#lee know au

[godslino]

MINHO’S LOVE IS | minho drabble.

Minho’s love is quiet. It’s lingering touches and wandering eyes from across the room. It’s shared glances when someone says something funny, your eyes immediately finding one another with a knowing look. It’s his back against the headboard as he scrolls through his phone, his other hand playing mindlessly with your hair while you watch tv. It’s the damp soil of the plant you swear you’ll be able to take care of all on your own, already watered by the time you wake up in the morning, Minho long gone for a day of practice. It’s the way he orders for you at restaurants, already knowing what foods you’re comfortable with. It’s the extra french fries that keep showing up on your plate, an innocent look on his face when you catch him in the act.

Minho’s love is warm. It’s the feeling of his jacket being draped over you when you fall asleep in the car. It’s his breath against your neck at night when he pulls you into his chest and tightens his arm around your middle. It’s the soft skin of his stomach when you shove your cold feet under his shirt, laughing as he shakes his head but still lets you get away with it. It’s his hands when he maps out your body, the blankets pulled tight around the both of you, fingertips trailing every dip and curve of your figure like he’s seeing it for the first time.

Minho’s love is loud. It’s laughter when he chases you down the hallway after you refuse to hug him, his body covered in sweat from the gym. It’s music blasting from a speaker in the kitchen while he cooks your favorite meal. It’s him screaming at the other guys to quiet down when he’s on facetime with you, the ocean-wide distance not enough to keep you apart. It’s the way he calls out to you, an excited “I’m hoooome!” when he gets back from a long day of work.

Minho’s love is gentle. It’s the press of his lips against yours when you open your eyes in the morning. It’s the tug of his fingers on the sleeve of your jacket when he pulls you towards the inner part of the sidewalk and takes your place instead. It’s his hand on the small of your back whenever you’re out in public, a reminder that he’s there. It’s his thumbs swiping the tears off of your cheeks when it all becomes too much to handle. It’s the way he holds you like he means it, like you’re something he’s scared of losing, as he promises over and over that he’ll never break you.

Minho’s love is quiet, warm, loud, and gentle. Minho’s love is more than just three words whispered into the space between your lips. Minho’s love is immeasurable in size and unexplainable in essence.

Minho’s love, to you, is everything.

[ tags: @102598s @snowyquokka @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @palindrome969 @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @astronomicallyyy @doohnut @linocz ]

**colored tags indicate my inability to link your account. this could be due to an error when you filled out the google form or you do not have tags on.

[straylightdream]

SUDDEN DESIRE - 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: lee minho x f.reader

college au / established relationship / roommate au

↳ you always thought you knew exactly what you wanted in life. But being with Minho makes you realize you want so much more with him.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pregnancy scare, lots of emotions, talks about the future and having kids. 18+ only. Smut warnings below the cut.

𝐚𝐧: can be read as one shot but there is a connecting PART ONE called Lover Of Mine. I have a soft spot for this couple and definitely wanted to write more for them. This is a part of my connecting connect stray kids college au series SSFW. You don’t need to read the other stories to know what’s going on.

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of knocking the mc up, passionate intercourse. Names such as: pretty, and angel

This whole situation feels a little too calm. Your night you had planned with Minho took a little turn when you realized you hadn’t started your period three weeks ago like you were supposed to. Nursing school had been extra stressful and you hadn’t really thought about it until Minho mentioned it.

Sitting on the bathroom floor with Minho sitting next you can’t seem to wrap your mind around the fact that neither of you seemed freaked out at the fact that you might be pregnant. You fiddle with the sleeve of your sweater while Minho scrolls through instagram on his phone looking at different photos of cats. He doesn’t seem nervous at all.

It’s been almost a year and half since the first time you slept together and you’re both extremely happy with your relationship. You’re in the middle of your nursing program, and Minho is in grad school. The thought of having a child at this stage in your life should make you sick, but it doesn’t.

“So what happens if I’m pregnant?” You glance at him.

Closing his phone he knits his eyebrows together as he stares at you. “I don’t know. I mean I want to have kids one day and I clearly love you. I’ve said this since the beginning when we first started sleeping together. If I get you pregnant you’ll look great.” He reaches over resting his hand on your cheek, “And you know the kid would be cute as hell.”

“Why doesn’t this freak me out?” You lean into his hand.

“I’m honestly not freaked out. If you’re pregnant the only thing we would have to figure out is where we would move. I don’t know if Hyunjin is ready to live with a baby. I could always pause grad school, to be honest I’m not worried.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a baby,” you still had things you wanted to do before you had a child. “This feels a little too soon. Like where would we even raise a baby?”

“We can cross that bridge when we get there if you’re pregnant.”

The timer on your phone goes off and you don’t move, you just silently stare at the pregnancy test still sitting on the floor. Minho leans over pressing his lips to your shoulder before he reaches out taking the test. He stares at it a moment before passing it to you. Your eyes lock on the bold blue words that read, “not pregnant”. Instantly you feel relieved.

“I’m probably late because of stress,” you sigh.

“Are you disappointed you aren’t pregnant?” He picks up on your sad tone.

You can’t fully explain the emotions you’re going through. You’re relieved you’re not pregnant, because you definitely aren’t ready for a child. But there is this little part of you that is sad that won’t be having Minho baby. “No, I'm not disappointed.”

You stand up taking the pregnancy test with you as you walk off to your room. You toss the test in the trash bin by your desk hoping that Hyunjin or his girlfriend won’t see the test.

Minho walks into your room leaning against the door frame. His eyes are trained on you as you move around your room. “Pretty, can you come here?”

Stopping in your tracks you pause for a moment before you walk over to him. He takes your face in both of his hands before he leans in pressing his lips to yours for a gentle kiss.

“What’s going on in your head?”

“For the longest time I didn’t think I wanted to have kids, but being with you has really changed my mind.” You suddenly feel emotional being this vulnerable with him. “The thought that I could be pregnant right now really made me realize that’s something I truly want with you in the future.”

A smile spreads across his lips, “you know we have talked about so many things since we met, and I thought we had talked about everything when we got together and I realize we never talked about what we wanted with marriage and kids and stuff of that nature.”

“The way you love coming inside me, and your breeding kink I just assumed you wanted kids.” You almost blush instantly thinking about all the filthy things he has said to you while in bed.

“I’m like you. I didn't really have a desire to have kids before you. To be quite honest I thought I would just be a cat dad.” He lets out a soft laugh and you can’t help but instantly smile.

“So does this mean after we both graduate maybe we can have a baby?”

“Is that what you want?”

Silently you nod.

“You don’t have to ask me twice to knock you up.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes as a soft laugh passes your lips. “In all seriousness Minho, we should probably properly plan that all out and probably find a place of our own.”

“We’ll figure all that out later. How about we think about it in two years. By then we should both be working good jobs and we can find our own place.”

“You know that means I’m gonna have to stop my birth control?” You step back from him smirking. “That means your little breeding kink can fully be explored.” His eyes narrow in on you with each step back you take.

“Does my pretty girl want me to breed her?” Steps towards you. “Do you want me to knock you up?” Your pulse races at his words. “Say the word pretty and I’ll breed you so damn full.”

“I’m on birth control you can’t breed me,” you tease.

“Baby I can fuck you so good that your birth control can’t even stop me.” He takes two big steps towards you. He grabs you by the waist before crashing his lips into your.

“Hey YN,” Hyunjin yells, walking up to your open door.

Minho pulls away from you instantly and you look over at the door to see an embarrassed Hyunjin standing there with his ears red. In the whole time you have all lived together this is really the first time Hyunjin has stumbled in on an intimate moment.

A heavy sigh passes Minho’s lips as he sits down on the edge of your bed. “Hyunjin what’s up?”

“Um I’m sorry if I walked in on something,” he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry, nothing is happening. Minho left the door open.”

“Um Chan just texted me asking me if we all wanted to come over to his place for dinner?”

You want to tell Hyunjin you want to stay home tonight but you don’t. You look over at Minho whose eyes are focused on you. He pats your butt gently, something he does often. “We’re gonna pass Hyunjin. She’s not feeling good and I’m gonna stay home with her.”

“Okay I’ll let them know,” Hyunjin rushes out of your room, closing the door behind him.

You exhale the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. Sitting on the edge of the bed you lean into Minho resting your head on his shoulder. “I feel like I need a nap.”

“Come on, let's cuddle.” He moves crawling back on your bed.

Curling up next to him you rest your head on his chest. Your arm drapes across his stomach clinging to him. “What happened to you wanting to fuck me?”

“I don’t think you need that right now, pretty. I think right now you just need me to hold you.” He gently rubs your side. Your thoughts are all over the place you didn’t think a pregnancy scare would leave you being so confused.

“Why do I feel so conflicted after taking that pregnancy test?”

“It’s normal to feel that way. You’re allowed to feel conflicted,” he leans down pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I love you Minho.”

“I love you too, kitten.”

-

You lay in bed with Minho for an hour before he convinces you to get out of bed. You find yourself sitting in the bathtub with Minho. His arms wrapped around your stomach pressing his lips to your bare shoulder. You have the apartment to yourself. Hyunjin went over to Chan’s with Jeongin.

“Are you scared of what life holds after college?” You break the comfortable silence that has taken over the bathroom.

“I used to be, but I don’t now.” He sounds so calm. “My outlook on life has really changed since we got together. I’m not worried about the future like I used to be. I know we’ll figure things out together.”

“Minho you’re the first person I have been with that makes me excited for what the future holds for us.”

After taking a bath Minho orders take out and sits on your bed eating it with you. Even after being together for over a year you still have separate rooms, but recently Minho has been in your room nonstop. It’s to the point now you exclusively sleep in your room. Minho even stores his pajamas in your dresser.

After eating it takes very little effort for Minho to have you naked and laying on your back as he hovers over you. His body practically plastered to you. Your legs are spread wide with his cock fitted snugly inside you. You hold his face in both your hands. His eyes are locked on yours and you can’t help the warming feeling in your chest. Nobody has ever made you feel quite like Minho does. Maybe that’s because before you were together you were friends first. You loved him as your friend long before you were in love with him.

“Thank you for taking care of me today.” You needed Minho today. From the moment you thought you might be pregnant you knew you needed him by your side.

“I love being able to take care of you,” he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your nose.

“I went through a lot of emotions today, and I’m really happy that I’m with you.” You mean everything you say to him. He’s truly special to you.

“Pretty is that your way of saying I love you?” He cocks his eyebrow at you.

“I thought it was clear I love you?” You can’t help but tease him right back. “Why don’t you show me how much you love me?” Your hands crawl down his tone back landing on his butt cheek. A smile spreads across his lips as you squeeze it. He rolls his hips forward with a firm thrust. You gasp at the feeling of him hitting just the right spot.

“Pretty I’ll show you just how much I love you.”

He sits up on his hunches with his length still inside you. His hands hold your hips with a firm grip as he rocks his hips into you over and over. Your breasts bounce with each thrust. One of your hands grips one of your breasts while the other grips the sheets below you. Looking up you find Minho staring right at you. One of his hands leaves your hip and travels up your stomach slowly. He takes your hand that was holding your breast away from your skin. He laced his fingers with yours and stills his hips. There’s a moment of silence where the only thing that can be heard is both your breathing.

“Minho?” You lean up on your elbows.

“Yes my angel?

“Can we change positions?” Silently he nods, removing himself from you. “Can I ride you?”

He doesn’t say anything, he just moves so he sits with his back against your headboard. Crawling across the bed you straddle his thighs quickly sinking down on his length. “Please touch me,” you whisper. You want nothing more than for him to touch every part of your body and soul. Without another word he leans forward and starts leaving a wet trail of kisses up the base of your neck. His hands travel down your back until they both grip your butt cheeks pulling your body towards him dragging you up his length. You follow his lead, rolling your hips. Your lips crash together muffling the moans that pass your lips.

Pulling your lips away, your forehead rests against him as you move your hips faster. Your thighs burn from the work but you don’t care. You want nothing more than to fully be engulfed in his touch. Leaning back you let out a loud moan. You count your blessings that your roommates aren’t home. The last thing you need is for either of them to hear you practically screaming Minho's name.

“Oh god,” you moan.

“Fuck,” he seems just as lost in pleasure as you. “You’re still so fucking tight.”

Leaning back you rest your hands on his thighs. You roll your hips over and over again. When he reaches down rubbing his thumb across your sensitive bundle of nerves it feels as if he set your body on fire. His thumb makes quick circles on your clit causing you to moan his name. He knows all the right ways to touch you.

“Pretty are you gonna come?” You can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut as your release is rapidly approaching. You nod your head quickly, holding back another moan. “Pretty it’s okay, you can come.”

Your eyes snap open and look into his warm ones. He continues his work on your clit as your high washes over you. You practically scream his name gripping his thighs as you slowly move your hips riding out your high.

You still for a moment leaning forward resting your forehead against his. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. He pulls back slightly. The smile on his face is something you might not ever forget.

“Can I change the position this time?” He asks, causing a soft laugh to pass your lips. You crawl off him laying on your back with your legs spread. He moves so he’s in his original position resting on top of you. He slides into you with ease. He starts moving right away this time. He sets a slow but steady pace. This time his lips are on yours the whole time. Your lips move together as he keeps his slow pace before he falls apart moaning your name finishing inside you just like he does every single time. When come down from his high he doesn’t leave you. He stays snug inside you. He’s pressing gentle kisses across your face causing you to smile.

“Is this what my future holds?” You ask.

“Are you asking if your future is me fucking you until you can’t move?”

“Minho I can move,” you laugh, lifting your arms.

“You can’t tell me you won’t have jello legs if you stood up?” He cocks his eyebrow at you.

“I’ll give you that. But what I really mean is when I’m sad are you always gonna try and cheer me up?”

“I will do whatever makes you pretty happy. I will hold you, kiss you, and do anything to make you smile,” he pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “And if I get to fuck you until you can’t walk that’s a bonus.”

“I love you so much,” you say as he slowly pulls out or you.

“I love you too.” He jumps out of bed and quickly runs off to the bathroom still naked and comes back with a warm washcloth. “Now time for me to clean up my mess.”

The little things Minho does they that’s a constant reminder that you truly found the right person for you. He makes you so happy without even really trying. You love him so much and you know he loves you.

[shabzy1644]

What your camera roll would look like dating Lee Know

[daydreams-after-dark]

Billionaire Lee Minho and his Pretty Little Plaything

You're at billionaire Lee Minho's extravagant party at some fancy historical manor, where unbeknownst to you he want to make you his "Plaything".

Before you know what's happening you find yourself in a room with Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin. Minho has plans for you but he doesn't know you can play games too.

Pairing: Lee Know x fem reader, Changbin x fem reader, Hyunjin x fem reader.

Word count: 8k approx

a/n: This story was originally posted on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams called "Minho meets his match".

WARNINGS: NSFW // contains depictions of explicit sexual content // some m x m stuff // unsafe vagina sex // vaginal fingering // explicit language // oral sex female // oral sex male // nudity // sex in front of others // mild blood kink // choking // anal fingering // attempted anal sex // plaything kink // ejaculation // female ejaculation // cum eating

You felt the dark rappers eyes watching you as soon as you stepped into party, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

He was weighing you up, you could tell, making you feel self conscious and short of breath. Trying to compose your racing heart, you smoothed down the satin fabric of your long slinky black dress (the one with the thigh high split) as you made your way to the make shift bar across the room, hoping he’d lose interest in you.

But his stare bored into your back, burning into your skin and through your flesh melting your insides.

“A sparkling wine please.” You said to the bar tender, and he passed you your glass of alcohol.

You hadn’t intended to come to the party but your boss said it would be a good idea to make an appearance and so here you were, begrudgingly. You preferred a quiet night with your stories.

You sipped your drink and took in your surroundings. The party was being hosted by billionaire Lee Minho, one of the most eligible bachelors of the moment. The man had an impeccable reputation as a respectable gentleman. You hadn’t ever heard a negative or scandalous thing about him. Not even a whisper. “Hmmm” you scoffed, either he was incredibly boring or incredibly careful.

But, he was intriguing, you thought to yourself. Look at this place. Who would host a glamorous party in an historical Manor instead of the newest and flashiest club? You cast your eyes around the room. The place was pulsing with people and the music was pounding through the sound system that had been set up.

The manor felt more like a castle, and you loved the stone pillars and architecture. You admired the grand staircase that made it’s way up the second floor, to what you could only assume were offices or accommodation. You didn’t really know what was up there, and you didn’t get a chance to wonder either because when you dropped your eyes from the upper level you locked eyes on the dark rapper leaning against the wall next to the staircase.

Changbin was his name, and he was a popular music artist. A well known rapper and producer. He was also Lee Minho’s right hand man. Or security guard. You weren’t quite sure what his relationship with Lee Minho entailed, but he was never far away.

You didn’t realise you were biting your lower lip as you watched him watch you, his arms were crossed over his broad, chest and he had one booted foot resting against the wall behind. He opened his pouty mouth slightly and you felt your cheeks reddening as he unashamedly looked you up and down.

Your melted insides now felt like they were pooling in your vagina and moistening your panties. You shouldn’t be turned on but you were. You clenched your vagina walls and you felt an ache to be filled and stretched. How dare he stare at you like this? How dare he make you feel this way?

You downed the remainder of your beverage and slammed the empty glass on a nearby table before you boldly walked towards him. He didn’t budge. He didn’t even look away. He just kept his eyes locked on you as though your were the tastiest thing he’d ever seen. You didn’t take your eyes off him either and you found it thrilling to be challenging him like this.

You had almost reached him, but at the last second you turned to your left and went up the stairs.

You didn’t even know where you were heading, but there was no way you were going to give Changbin the satisfaction of you approaching him. He would have thought that his dark stare had somehow cast a spell on you and that you needed to be his, and that you’d fall straight into his trap… or lap. But you didn’t like giving in to people that easily. You were agitated that your body was betraying your thoughts and challenging your willpower. That’s why you went upstairs. To get away from the situation, and you hoped he wouldn’t follow you. Well your brain was hoping that he wouldn’t follow you… what your body was hoping for you weren’t so sure.

The landing presented you with two options - a dark, narrow hallway to the left, or a long, somewhat lit hallway directly in front of you. You decided to go with the second option. The hallway was wide with many doors along both sides, and a large window at the end. There were wall lamps between each of the doors lighting the way.

You suddenly felt a surge of panic when you realised that if Changbin had followed you then where would you hide? What if all of the doors were locked? You felt trapped as your heart rate increased and your hairs stood on end (again). You were about to look over your shoulder to see if he had followed you, but before you could even turn your head a hand grabbed your arm and pushed you back hard against the wall. You let out a squeal and your eyes widened as Changbin stood close to you, trapping you with his arms resting on either of side of your head.

“This…” he whispered “is an out of bounds area. You shouldn’t be up here.” His voice was cold and stern and his eyes were dark and challenging.

“I was just looking for the bathroom.” You said defiantly. Who could argue with the call of nature, right?

Changbin clicked his tongue as it to say that’s the oldest excuse in the book.

He stepped even closer to you, his body pressed against yours making you feel weak in the knees. You could feel his length hardening in his trousers and your molten insides were really seeping out of you now. You weren’t about to let on that he was affecting you this way.

He released his right hand from the wall and his fingers ghosted your cheek, your neck, the side of you breast and stomach, but he didn’t touch you until he placed it on your left hip. Your breath hitched and got caught in your throat, but you stared, no, glared at him trying to gain some sort of control or power over the situation. But he simply dug his teeth into his lip and dropped his gaze to your lips and then further to the top of your cleavage.

The hand he still had pressed against the wall softly landed on the spaghetti strap of your dress, slipping his finger underneath. But he didn’t slide it off your shoulder. He seemed to be contemplating what he wanted to do. What he could do. He knew all it would take was to slip the flimsy strap down your arm and you’d be exposed to him. He let out a long exhale.

Then his eyes snapped back up to yours as he snapped out of his thoughts.

“Anyway, I guess it doesn’t really matter that you’re up here. Mister Lee has asked me to collect you. He’s requested your presence.”

He’s what? Why would Lee Minho want to see you? How does he even know who you are?

Your intuition kicked into gear. Something didn’t seem right. There was absolutely no reason for him to need to see you. What could he possibly want with you? Minho seemed far too squeaky clean on the outside to really be squeaky clean, and that made you suspicious.

You felt the urge to get out of there. Fast.

Adrenaline kicked in and you kicked Changbin in the leg as hard as you could, startling him and making him step back. Now was your chance, but he was blocking your way back towards the stairs.

That left you having to run up the hallway, testing doors. Most of them were locked. What were you going to do?

Chanbgin quickly recovered and was slowly closing in on you. But he didn’t seem rushed or panicked. It was like in those horror movies where the victim would be running away from the serial killer who would simply walk calmly in pursuit, and then eventually... you didn't want to think about that.

In your frantic attempt to get away, you managed to find an unlocked door. Thank Fuck. You felt a wave of relief as you stepped inside and closed the door, locking it from the inside. You leaned your head against the door panting. You were safe for now.

Once you caught your breath and calmed your racing heart, you turned around to see where you were. That’s when you saw him. Lee Minho sitting on a brown leather couch, arms outstretched along he backrest, and in his lap was a man’s head, sucking his cock.

“Look Hyunjin, my plaything has arrived.” He said amused as he smirked and gave you the deadliest glare you’d ever seen.

———

You stood fixed to the spot. What the actual fuck was happening?

Hyunjin lifted his head and looked up at you. You didn’t know where to look, your eyes darting between Hyunjin’s puffy, slobbery lips, and Minho’s throbbing, angry cock before snapping back up to meet Minho’s deadly stare.

“Do you like what you see, pretty lady?” He sneered.

This was messed up. You had to get the fuck out of there. You spun around and went for the door, hoping to God that Changbin had given up on you and gone back downstairs. But as you opened the door ready to bolt you ran smack bang into a hard chest. Changbin.

He’d been standing outside the door and now he was edging you back into the room.

You didn’t dare let the three men see your fear that was coursing through you, or that other feeling that you were ignoring, as you were backed towards the edge of an unoccupied couch.

“Sit.” Changbin instructed and gently pushed you into the chair and then he proceeded to sit in the armchair opposite you, crossing his arms and staring you down.

You look to the two men on the couch on your right. Hyunjin had now sat up and was sitting with his legs crossed, leaning on his hand and watching you curiously. He had his tongue poked out between his plump, red lips and strands of black hair had escaped his pointy tail, making him look disheveled.

The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the most interesting and unique creature he’d ever laid eyes on, while at the same time that’s how you were looking at him too.

Fuck, he was stunning, you thought. He was wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he’d paired it with black dress pants. Designer for sure.

If Changbin’s eyes bored through your skin and melted your insides, then Hyunjin’s eyes set you on fire.

You folded your arms across your chest, fully aware that it pushed your cleavage up, and crossed one leg over the other, the split in your dress exposing almost the entire length of your leg. You might be scared, but you certainly weren't shy.

Although you were directing a death stare Minho, you registered in your peripheral Changbin stiffen and grip the chair arms, and Hyunjin slinked down like a feline onto his side to lean on couch arm to continue watching you.

Minho just stared right back at you. His eyes were dark, like Changbin’s, but there was something else there. There was a sinisterness, a glimmer of evil behind his eyes, like this was a game.

But you were good at playing games too.

Minho was about to meet his match.

---------------------------

“Okay. Look. This…” you gesture around the room “is well and truly fucked up. I don’t know who you are, or what you want. And what do you mean by ‘plaything’ anyway? And what makes you think that I’m it? You don’t fucking know me!” you ranted, not pausing, not giving them a chance to interject. You were absolutely fuming mad. "Who the fuck are you people?"

Hyunjin silently laughed to himself, and Changbin didn’t budge. Minho smirked, one corner of his mouth curling up.

“Are you quite finished?” he sounded amused as you continued to glare at him.

“Of course you know who we are,” he scoffed. “And we know who you are.” You swallowed hard.

“And… by ‘plaything’” the smirk and amusement leaving his face and replaced with a cold expression. “I mean I am going to fuck you however I like, as many times as I like, and… as hard as I like. And when you beg me to stop… I’ll just keep going…and when I do stop, well” he paused for a moment then whispered “you’ll want me to do it again.”

Your mouth hung open in disbelief as you let his words sink in. What a presumptuous asshole! How dare he be so fucking cocky. How dare he think he can request your presence and then do whatever the fuck he wants with you?

“But,” Minho’s calculating voice broke your frantic thoughts. “I’m not going to fuck you until you beg for it.”

You couldn’t help yourself but burst out laughing. What the actual fuck?

“So,” you tried to control your condescending laugh “you’re not going to do anything until I beg you?” you shook your head. Wow. “Don’t you think that’s a bit, I don’t know, up yourself?” you raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down. He was actually very attractive, but there would be no way in hell that you would ever beg him to have sex with you. Out of principle. But you were intrigued, and you were curious to see how this would unfold.

Minho said nothing, but his equally condescending stare told you he that he thought he knew better.

His eyes silently challenged you. “You can try to fight this all you like, but you will beg me to fuck you. That, I can promise.” He said, whispering the last part. It sent chills down your spine. You glared at him for what felt like a whole minute.

“Not if you beg me for it first.” You said coldly. Minho looked taken aback. He wasn’t expecting you to challenge him like this. He might’ve expected you to simply leave, but actually dare to suggest that he’d be the one doing the begging? Well this sounded interesting to him and you could see it in his facial expression.

He nodded his head “Okay, I get it, your a feisty one. I should’ve expected that. But I think you will be sorely disappointed.”

“Yes, well we’ll see won’t we?” you responded.

Hyunjin looked thrilled with what was unfolding as he looked wide-eyed between the you and Minho. Changbin just continued to sit silently like a stoic statue.

Now you needed to think of a way to get Minho to beg you to let him fuck you. Just that thought alone jolted you into the realisation that what if he did beg? Would you really want that? Would you really let him do that to you?

You studied Minho while you contemplated what to do. Physically he looked fucking sexy, his face was pleasant when he didn’t have a sinister expression (which by the way the sinister expression did do things to you that you didn’t dare want to admit). His body seemed toned and fit, although it was hiding under a dinner suit. Then there was his cock, which had been put back in his trousers. You could tell from that quick glimpse earlier it was impressive, and you were certain he knew how to use it well.

But his arrogance and self assuredness really pissed you off and fired you up. It ignited your competitive side. You liked to win, and you fucking hated to lose.

So yes, you would let him fuck you if he begged you.

And with that you made your first move.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly. His eyes darted to yours curiously. “Come sit on the floor in front of me.” You ushered him down to the floor, and like a slinky panther he slid to the floor and sat at your feet.

“You’re really pretty close up.” He giggled.

“You think?” you smiled back at him. Hyunjin’s eyes followed your exposed leg from the ankle all the way up to the top of your thigh and he licked his lips.

“Do you like what you see?” you taunted. Hyunjin nodded “Hmmm…yes.” He whispered.

“You can touch me if you want, Hyunjin.” And you snapped your eyes up to Minho who shrugged and made a face like he didn’t care.

Hyunjin brought a finger to your ankle and traced a long, delicate finger slowly up your shin, over your knee and along the top of your thigh. It sent a shiver through you and you could feel yourself burning up.

“I know you like sucking cock, Hyunjin, but… do you like eating pussy too?” Hyunjin’s head snapped up and he nodded excitedly. “I fucking love eating pussy.”

You leaned in close to Hyunjin’s ear and whispered “Do you want to be a brat to Minho and eat my pussy?”

You leaned back on the sofa and Hyunjin slid your dress up to spread your knees wide. He let out a wobbly exhale and his tongue hung out of the corner of his mouth. And for a long moment he just admired you, gazing between your legs before sliding your underwear off. You looked at Minho and you caught him swallowing hard.

From where Changbin sat across the room he had a full view of your pussy and you could see it was having an affect on him. His mouth had parted again and his eyes had that same hungry look that he had when he watched you earlier downstairs.

Hyunjin dove between your legs and it took you by surprise, making you squeal. Minho laughed from the side.

Hyunjin knew what he was doing, building you up to three long, slender fingers in no time at all. His wicked tongue doing obscene things to your lips and clit. His fingers expertly pressed into your g-spot and it made you come undone within 5 minutes, shaking and clenching around his mouth and fingers.

Once you came down from your high, you pushed Hyunjin away and instructed him to lay on the shag rug in front of the couches. You knelt between his legs to undo his trousers and released his long cock. How the fuck were you going to suck him off? He was simply too long! You quickly worked out that the best way to tackle this was to straddle Hyunjin’s chest, that way his cock would enter your mouth at a much better angle to take him in your throat.

But you still couldn’t get him all in. But boy did you try. You fought back the urge to gag, tears ran down your face, saliva dribbled out the corners of your mouth and down his length. You used your hand to take care of what you couldn’t take with your mouth, and you found a steady rhythm that seemed to be driving Hyunjin wild.

You felt his hands land on your ass and then slide your dress up over your hips so he could get another good look at you before pulling you back to sit on his face. His tongue dove into your pussy and his perfect lips sucked on your clit again. He lifted you off his face slightly so he could run his thumb along your folds, slicking it up, and pushing it into your second entrance while pulling you back down onto his face. You groaned at the burning stretch and rolled your hips, grinding and sliding your wetness all over his face.

Hyunjin was losing control under you, grunting and bucking his hips up into your face as he painted your throat in cum, making you literally choke on his cock and semen.

You were so close to orgasm but you had other ideas and you lifted yourself up off of Hyunjin.

“Naww… but I haven’t felt that pussy around my cock yet.” He whined as he laid spent on the floor.

“Patience, Hyunjin.” you reassured him.

You stole a glance up at Minho. His eyes were nearly black with rage as he scowled at you disapprovingly.

So he didn’t like what you were doing? Good.

You set your sights on Changbin next. You crawled towards him and he parted his legs so you could kneel in between them. With hooded eyes you looked up at him. His eyes were cloudy with lust, and his fucking pouty lips were driving you crazy. And he was hard, so fucking hard in his trousers. You reached for his belt. You wanted to relief him of his erection, but he grabbed your wrist and shook his head.

“I don’t want your slutty mouth around my cock until you’ve kissed me.” He said gruffly, and pulled you up to straddle his lap.

Wow that sentence started off so dirty and ended so… sweet, you thought and you leaned in to gently kiss his mouth. He tasted like whiskey and toothpaste, and it didn’t take long before you were devouring his mouth and sinking your tongue in to connect with his. You lifted your dress out of the way so that your bare pussy rubbed against his trousers, the friction feeling delicious. His hands roamed your back, caressed your ass, guiding you as you ground against his hardness.

You were shaking with desire and you were dying to come again “I need you inside me, Changbin.” You panted. You shifted back so you could access his fly and hastily released his cock, and slid yourself down over his shaft.

Changbin grunted and he looked like he was in pain as you rode him slowly.

“Fucking hell you feel so good.” He grunted and he buried his face in your neck.

Changbin definitely had some girth to him and you mewled at how stretched open he made you feel. He reached up to your spaghetti strap and this time he tucked a finger underneath the flimsy string and tugged it off your shoulder. He repeated the action for the other strap and allowed the top of your dress to slip down to reveal your breasts.

Changbin’s mouth latched onto a nipple, nibbling and flicking it with his tongue. His other hand giving your other breast a meaty squeeze.

“Turn her around, Changbin.” Hyunjin suggested. “Let Minho see her face while she’s being fucked.”

With one last growl and a bite of your nipple, Changbin easily lifted you off his cock so you could turn around.

With one foot on placed on the seat either side of his thighs, you lowered yourself back down onto his dick and leaned back against his chest.

“Take off her dress.” Hyunjin prompted.

Minho remained silent, but never looked away.

Changbin lifted your dress over your head and tossed it to the side. Now you were fully naked and completely exposed. You felt a rush of adrenaline as Hyunjin watched you with fascination. Changbin’s hands roamed your naked form, before landing back on your breasts. He seemed to love your tits. And you loved the way his hands felt as he fondled them.

You leaned your head right back against Changbin’s shoulder, offering him your neck. He took it willingly, sucking your pulse.

You felt Hyunjin’s hands under your thighs, lifting your legs up so that your knees were pushed against your chest. You had no control of the thrusting now, and you were at the mercy of the two men.

Hyunjin would slide you halfway up Changbin’s cock and Changbin would roll his hips up into you completely, then he’d roll back out. Then Hyunjin would slide you up part way and drop you back down full force onto the rapper’s cock. Sometimes they’d work together where Hyunjin would lift you up almost the whole way off Changbin and then forcefully ram you back down at the same time Changbin would snap his hips up. It made you cry out in pleasure.

Then Hyunjin found your clit with his tongue and that was truly more than you could bare. With one hand around Chsngbin’s neck, the other in Hyunjin’s hair, your gaze drifted to Minho. His mouth was hung open and his eyes now had a different look to them. You couldn’t quite pick what it was about them, but the way he looked a you sent you hurtling towards orgasm.

It sent Changbin over the edge too, and you felt his cum spurt up into you as he screamed out an animalistic growl.

As you came down, you realised how truly exhausted you were, and it took you a while to stop shaking.

Hyunjin wasted absolutely no time pulling you off Changbin. He was hard again and he was dying to fuck you.

He laid you down on the carpet and you felt Changbin’s cum seeping out of you onto the rug. You hoped no one would notice.

“Let me fuck that back into you.” Hyunjin whispered deviously. The man was beautiful, but fuck he was bratty too.

He hovered above you and gazed at you momentarily, then he dove into your neck at the same time he drove his cock into you. You winced as he hit your cervix, but it didn’t seem to bother him, and he kept trying to inch as much of himself into as he could with every thrust. He was immersed in his own world, as he smashed into you, and as much as it wasn’t comfortable, you were still willing to take it.

Just when you thought tears were going to spring from your eyes, Hyunjin flipped onto his back, taking you along with him so your were on top. This new position allowed you to control the depth of Hyunjin, offering your cervix some respite. Before you had time to register it, you felt Changbin at your side offering you his cock. You took it in your mouth, and enthusiastically worked it like your life depended on it.

“Fuck that’s hot” Hyunjin sighed underneath you as he watched you sucking Changbin off.

“Changbin, come fuck her with me…help me tear up her insides.”

Your eyes widened in fear and you knew that Minho and Changbin saw your reaction. You accidentally bit down on Changbin’s dick, and he pulled out with a yelp.

“S-sorry.” You whispered desperately to him.

“Come on Binnie, I’m not going to last long.” Hyunjin whined.

Changbin looked like he’d seen a ghost. “No… I can’t,” he shook his head. “I..I don’t want to.” And with that he abruptly did up his trousers and hastily left the room.

“Well I wanna fuck your ass even if he doesn’t.” Hyunjin announced, not in the slightest bit fazed that his friend just stormed off. He lifted you off his cock and pushed you down onto your stomach and rubbed the head of his cock through your lips to line himself up with your back entrance.

But before he had a chance to penetrate you, he was suddenly thrown off you.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Minho roared. Hyunjin looked up at him bewildered. Minho glared furiously at Hyunjin. “I said get the fuck out of here. NOW!” and he dragged him by the collar and thew him out the door.

Minho turned back to you, and you saw an expression you hadn’t seen before. It was concern.

You felt like such a fool, and so fucking pathetic sitting there naked on the rug with cum still leaking out of you.

You didn’t want to look at Minho. He went to the corner of the room and returned with a throw blanket and wrapped it around your naked body.

“I think you’ve done more than enough, don’t you?” he said sternly. He lifted you up and carried you to the couch and sat you beside him.

He reached to the table next to couch and poured a glass of water. “Here.” He said pointing the glass at you. You took it begrudgingly and drank it down in one gulp. You were absolutely parched.

“Look, I just want to check…” he started, but you looked away. Minho took your chin in his hand and turned it back forcing you to look directly at him. “I want to know you’re okay.” His eyes searched yours, looking for any indication that you were hurt.

The walls you had up when you entered this room suddenly felt like they were going to crumble. You sucked in your bottom lip, squeezed your eyes closed and nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.” Your voice was so small.

Minho stroked your cheek, moving some loose strands of hair off your face. There wasn’t a hint of malice in his expression now.

“That’s better.” He said as he pushed the last strands of hair behind your ear.

His touch felt tender, as he tightened the blanket more snugly around you.

His eyes were warm as they drank in your lips.

You hated it. You wanted to scream at him. How dare he suddenly be so… so kind?

Then you kissed him.

---------------------

You pulled away abruptly, shocked at yourself.

Minho held your gaze with soft eyes but you could tell his mind was at work.

Then he reached around the back of your head and leaned in to kiss you. His kiss was a mix of urgency and care and you melted into it fast. His tongue dipped delicately into your mouth to catch yours. The man knew how to kiss, and the way it made you feel you knew you didn’t have much hope of resisting him.

It set you on fire, and without thinking you climbed onto his lap and straddled him, not breaking contact with his mouth even for a moment. The blanket slipped off you as one hand cupped his face and other one grabbed him greedily around the back of his neck. Minho’s hands were all over you, frantically trying to be everywhere at once. Everywhere except where you desperately wanted him to be. You unbuttoned his shirt, practically ripping it from his body, and explored his chest with your hands. You tried to grind on his crotch and you could feel he was aroused. He was so hard in his trousers, you thought it would somehow unzip his pants and spring free by itself.

“Minho,” you sounded so desperate and you hated it.

He leaned back and took a good look at your naked body then tilted his head up to meet your eyes. He brushed your jawline with his thumb.

He knew what you wanted. You knew your eyes were begging him to touch you.

“Say it for me, beautiful.” He said with a strained voice and dark, hungry eyes. The need in his voice took you by surprise. He gripped your hips and ground his crotch against you. “I can’t do it unless you beg, remember?” he panted. He was basically begging you to beg him, and you knew he was on the verge of giving in.

“Beg me to be your plaything, Minho” you cooed in response.

Minho snickered. “That’s not how this works.” He hissed, and leaned up to nibble your ear. “But you are making it so very hard.” He sighed.

You reached down to palm his trousers. “I know I am.” You smiled devilishly.

Minho, with what looked like all his self control, pulled right back and stopped touching you completely. It seemed he hoped this move would make you cave. And you nearly did. But you decided to take a gamble.

“Fine, Minho.” You huffed. “I said from the start I wouldn’t beg. And, I said if you begged me to, I would be your plaything. But if you’re not going to…” You slid off Minho’s lap and covered yourself with the blanket.

Minho winced at the sudden loss of being able to see and feel your body that was literally in his lap a moment ago.

You picked up your crumpled dress and panties and turned your back to Minho so you could get dressed.

The blanket pooled around you feet as it dropped to the floor and you struggled to untangle the dress from the mess Changbin made when he took it off you. How the fuck did he manage to get it half inside out?

You almost had the dress back the right way, and was about to step into it when you felt Minho’s arms wrap around your waist.

“Please stay,” he whispered into your ear and holding you close against his bare chest. “Please be mine tonight.”

You felt his hot breath on your neck and it sent your head in a spin.

“I need you.” His hands slid down your sides, your head fell back against his shoulder. “I have to be inside you.” He licked a trail from your shoulder up to your ear and then took the lobe in his mouth.

“How badly do you want it.” Your voice was barely a whisper. You were enjoying what his words were doing to you. He was fucking seducing you. And it was working.

“I’m fucking begging you to let me taste you. And feel you. And. Fuck. You.”

Every single part of your body was begging for him to own you, yet he was the one who said it first. It didn’t make you feel like you’d won. It made you feel wanted.

Minho spun you around to face him and stared straight into your eyes, waiting for your answer.

“I wanna be your plaything, Minho,” you said. “Fuck me however you want, as long as you want and as hard as you want. I wanna feel what you can do to me.” You said silkily and undid his trousers and dropped them to the floor, allowing Minho to step out of them. He looked God-like. “I need you to-”

Minho kissed you slow and deep and you wrapped your legs around him as he lifted you up and placed you lengthwise on the couch.

He was on top of you, pinning you down and devouring you in the most tender way possible. You thought he’d just throw you down and fuck you stupid.

His kisses were firm but careful and the pace slow and steady. It was like he was making love to you with just his mouth and it sent tingles down your spine. His hard cock pressed against you but he didn’t attempt to penetrate you. You wanted him to though.

As the kiss continued, little moans escaped both of you and your bodies began to react by writhing against one another.

Minho smiled against your mouth and peeled his lips away from yours “I’m gonna kiss your pussy like this now.”

He kissed his way down your body, slowing down when he reached your pubic bone so he could pay extra attention there. He kissed the crease where your thigh joined your body and he nibbled your inner thigh.

You whimpered when his precious lips made contact with your labia and clitoris. He kissed you in exactly the same way he kissed your mouth. Soft. Tender. Slow. Intentional. His tongue gently dipped in to caress your clit while his lips pressed against your swollen labia. Every now and then he’d gently suck or flick your clit with the tip of his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch this mysterious man do these wickedly sensual things to you.

He looked up at you with smiling eyes and you were certain he was actually smiling. You were melting into the couch, you’d never been given this type of attention from any of your previous lovers. It was heavenly.

You watched as Minho moved his kisses down to your entrance, where they became hungrier and more urgent. But still so gentle. You must have been dripping wet by now. And you absolutely ached for him to be inside you.

“Minho… you’re so soft…and careful…” you could barely speak.

“And…is that a problem?” he teased playfully.

“I…just… don’t… understand..” Why couldn’t you talk properly?

Minho licked a stripe up through your lips and lifted his head. But he didn’t take his eyes off your pussy.

“You see… If I go softly and give your sweet pussy proper attention,” he dipped his head and kissed you. His voice was low and husky and his eyes became so dark you thought they’d turned black. “You’ll be able to take more of what I’m going to give you,” he sucked on your clit. “you’ll be able to stretch wider…” He slid a finger through your dripping folds and brought it to his mouth to suck it clean.

You thought you were going to come on the spot.

“You’ll be able to take it deeper…” he brought his finger back down to tease your entrance. “And…” he paused. “it’ll make the pain feel more….exquisite when I hurt you.” And he slid his finger into you and pressed against your g-spot bringing you almost to -

He removed his fingers just as you were about to come. You clenched your fists and squeezed you vagina hoping to bring on the release. But you’d lost it. Fucking bastard!

He knew exactly what he’d done. The satisfaction on his face was as plain as day.

“Now beautiful,” he blew cold air on your lips to deliberately make you squirm. “You’re gonna take four fingers for me, okay?”

Your eyes bulged. You’d never take four fingers before. Minho saw your horrified expression. “You’ve never had anyone stretch you open like that, hmm?” he lifted an eyebrow.

You shook your head quickly.

Minho reached down to the floor and picked up the blanket and placed it under you body. Then he found a stray cushion and placed in under your head, kissing your mouth then shimmying his way back down to get to work.

He brought two fingers to your entrance, as his mouth found your clit again. You moaned as he slipped his digits inside of you.

“Trust me beautiful. Your body can take it, I promise. You want to be a good plaything don’t you?” He purposefully avoided your g-spot as he slowly fucked you with his two fingers. You began to move your hips against him. Two fingers wasn’t enough.

Minho removed his fingers only to find you again with three. You sucked in your breath as he squeezed into you. This was the kind of stretch you loved and you mewled as he started to slowly pump you with them.

“Baby, shhh… slow your breathing…I need you to relax. Can you do that for me beautiful.” He slowed down his thrusts even further and kissed your stomach before looking up at you.

“Are you ready to take the last one? Can you be a good plaything and take it for me?”

“Mm-hmm… please.” You wanted to feel whatever he was willing to give you. Even if that scared you a little.

Minho pushed one of your legs to hang off the side of the couch, the other he pushed up towards your chest, and brought all four fingers to your entrance. “You’re such a good girl. Trust me, your body knows what to do.” And he edged the tips of his fingers into you.

You cried out at the stretch. It was like nothing you’d ever felt. You had friends who talked of doing this easily, but it was new for you, and you weren't one hundred percent sure you could manage it.

Your threw your hands above your head and gripped the top edge of the cushion your head was laying on. You felt like you were going to suffocate, and your pussy felt like it was going to split in two.

Minho moved slowly. He wasn’t in a rush. “Fuck you are taking me so fucking well.”

Were you? You dared to steal a glance at his face. His mouth hung open and his hazy, dark eyes were fixated on what his hand was doing to you. You could see how aroused this was making him, and it made you want to take every inch of him.

Laying your head back down on the cushion you immersed yourself in the feeling of him stretching you further as his fingers buried deeper. It was overwhelming, but addictive. You allowed yourself to moan loudly and cry out as the sensations intensified. You thought he was buried all the way in, but somehow he inched in even further.

“Fuck! Oh…uh…shit…” you cried out louder than ever.

You had lost any sense of your surroundings, the only thing you could focus on was the sensations in your body. You felt drunk and light headed as all the blood flow was down the other end. You felt like you were swimming in euphoria.

“That’s it… you look so fucking beautiful taking this. But I think you can take more.” Said Minho.

Then you registered his fingers on your other entrance. Jesus Christ, what was he going to do?

“Your pretty little hole is begging me to stretch it too.” He said smoothly, and he pushed his finger past the rim.

It seemed it really was begging to be stretched because you moaned with such relief that you were almost about to cry tears.

Satisfied, Minho moved up to two fingers. It burned, but it felt incredible.

“I told you the pain would feel exquisite, didn’t I?” He cooed.

“Yes!” you practically screamed. In fact you were sure that the party downstairs could hear your cries of pleasure.

You squeezed your eyes tight and gripped the cushion, and now that he was fully inside of you, your hips started to rock for more friction.

“Hmm you’re ready for me to really finger fuck you now?”

God. Yes.

You expected him to start thrusting his hand in and out of you, instead it was more of a grind, aiming and digging his fingers forcefully into your sensitive g-spot.

He removed his fingers from your ass and you whined, but he was back with more, you weren’t sure how many, and you didn’t dare to look. Instead you lost yourself to Minho, surrendering to him as he played with you.

His mouth somehow found your clitoris, his mouth hot and hungry. You were writhing and bucking up into his face and hands. You felt like you were going to choke because your could hardly breath. Your back arched and your cries became screams as your body stiffened then convulsed around the man between your legs.

You felt a sudden, forceful release on top of your orgasm. Shit! You thought you’d peed yourself. Your eyes shot open and you looked down to find Minho who was lapping up all of your juices. You were horrified.

Minho looked up pleased with himself. “Fuck, I’d never seen a woman squirt before!”.

Holy fuck. You ejaculated?

Before you had a chance to process what had just happened, Minho removed his fingers from you and crawled up to you face and hovered above you.

“Taste yourself.” He whispered and crashed his lips on yours. This was the first ravenous and messy kiss you’d shared.

“Lick these clean for me, little plaything.” He said and pushed all four fingers that had just been buried in your pussy into your mouth. You eagerly took them, greedily sucking your wetness off of his perfect fingers.

“Minho?” you held his face in your hands.

“Yeah, beautiful?” he smiled and kissed your neck.

“I need you to fuck me. I…just…just can’t get enough of you.” You couldn’t help admitting how you felt. It wasn’t like you to be this vulnerable, but Minho had literally and figuratively opened you up, exposing you and there were no more walls to hide behind.

Minho’s smile turned into a smirk.

“Okay,” he kissed your cheek. “But I fuck rough.” He said stroking your face.

“I can take it.” You pant.

Minho raised an eyebrow “Of course you will, beautiful. I’ll make you take it.” He said low.

With one hand Minho gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head. You looked down as he grasped his cock in his other hand, giving it a few good pumps, not that he needed to. His cock was throbbing and so hard it looked painful.

He was probably around the same length as Hyunjin, but a with a little more girth. You remembered how hard it was to take him, and you swore you felt your cervix beg you to stop this instant.

But you didn’t want to stop. For some reason you trusted Minho with your body. You knew that he’d know how to fuck you properly.

Both you and Minho watched his cock slam into your vagina in one thrust. He cried out a low groan and closed his eyes. He absolutely ravished your neck, your breasts, your mouth, sucking and biting you as he slammed into you at a brutal pace. You tasted blood on his mouth as he kissed you. He must have broken some skin, but you weren’t sure where. You didn’t care. The pain felt good. The pain did feel… exquisite.

Minho hovered above you, your hands were still pinned above your head as he stroked your cheek with the other. He locked his eyes on yours as he slid his hand down to your neck and loosely gripping it.

His mouth was hung open again, and you could see a tiny smear of blood on the corner of his lip. His cheeks were flushed pink like he was drunk, and his eyes… they weren’t evil or malicious, but they were deadly.

You weren’t frightened, you were excited. Having this man’s hand around your neck while he was pinning you down and fucking you was the most erotic and thrilling thing you’ve ever experienced. How would you ever go back to vanilla sex?

“Choke me, Minho.” You didn’t recognise your voice. It didn’t sound like it came from you. But every fibre of being wanted him to completely own you. Every part of you wanted to be his plaything.

A flash of doubt crossed Minho’s face, but it was only for a second. The deadly expression returning as his fingers squeezed around your neck. He let go of your hands to prop himself up on his elbow so he could focus on your face properly. You felt lightheaded, but you could still breath, you just couldn’t get a full breath in. Minho didn’t take his eyes off yours, and when he was satisfied that he wasn’t squeezing too hard, he began to fuck you again. Brutally. Relentlessly. Unforgivingly.

He slammed into your cervix and forced his entire length inside of you on each thrust. But it didn’t feel like when Hyunjin was bruising your cervix, you wanted this, you welcomed it. It felt good.

Your hands explored Minho’s sweaty body, his muscles flexing and moving underneath your fingertips. The man was strong but also flexible, and he moved like a dancer above you, while he grunted like a wild animal on every thrust. And you mewled every time he punched into your cervix.

Minho experimented with his grip on your neck. He’d squeeze a little tighter and watch you reaction, or he’d loosen it and caress you tenderly. You felt yourself go tingly and thought you were going to float away. Other times you thought you were going to pass out. But you never did. Minho somehow knew your limits, and would only dance on the edge of them, never taking you beyond what you could manage.

“Come for me.” He commanded softly, and you fucking did, pulsing around his cock and shaking uncontrollably. It was like you really were his plaything, responding to his every whim.

Suddenly, Minho growled like a beast, and leaned back on his knees, letting go of your neck. He hooked your legs over his shoulder and lifted your hips up to meet his.

You thought he was fucking you rough before, but he kicked it up to another level as he chased his orgasm. Just the sight of him losing control brought on another one for you and then you felt him. His hot pulsing release, marking you, owning you. Ruining you.

He slumped back down on you, laying there wordless for a full five minutes.

Eventually, he propped himself up above you and kissed you just like he did earlier. A slow, careful, meaningful kiss. He peeled away and smiled like he was the luckiest man alive, and you grinned back at him. He looked happy. You were happy.

“That was pretty incredible.” He said kissing you again. “I’m not sure I could ever have someone else after that. I think you might have wrecked me” He added.

You felt your heart race, even though you knew he was just saying that because he'd just had sex with you.

“Well… it was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had!” you laughed.

“Aren’t you glad I let you be my plaything then?” he teased.

“Aren’t you glad you begged me?” you challenged.

Minho pulled out of you and got up to get his phone, the sat himself back on the couch, pulling your legs across his lap.

He dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. “Hey! Yeah, can you bring some food and drinks up to me? Yeah anything’s fine..” He said, then hung up.

“You’re probably starving after that. I know I am.”

Now that you thought about it, you were hungry, and thirsty. You sat up and made for your clothes, but Minho caught your arm. “Hey, we’re far from finished you know?” he said.

Oh. “But I thought… with the food coming…”

Minho chuckled softly and shook his head.

“We’re gonna eat, catch our breath…” he leaned in close. “And then you’re going to do to me exactly what you did to Hyunjin and Changbin.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @itshannjisung @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @newhope8 @sunshinesquokka @queenmea604

[arcanesea]

cat cafe | lee minho x reader | 721 w.

Co-owning a cat cafe has been a successful attempt to make a side income for Minho. Plus point because he gets to see them more frequently than his actual cats.

Another plus point because you're his co-owner.

"We really need to talk about the interior design. I feel like it's too dull and need more color or something," you said on the phone. You admit the location of this cafe is a bit... secluded. But with the power of social media, you believe this place can thrive.

On the other line, Minho was looking through his laptop screen. Scrolling through countless pictures about "Cat cafe interior designs." He knows absolutely nothing about interior design, but if you say so, he'll find a way to make it work. You talk more about changing this and that, what's the most important thing to do according to you and the internet.

"I hope you're actually listening," you said quietly. You realize that he hasn't spoken any words since he picked up the phone 5 minutes ago.

"I am!" Minho assured. He had already texted his friends for recommendations.

"M'kay, well, let's talk about this more when you have free time," you proposed.

"How about tomorrow?" he asks. "I'll make appointments with an interior designer so we can talk about it."

You open your mouth to protest, Minho is a responsible co-owner. Sometimes too responsible that he immediately agrees to everything you say. Of course, you're not complaining, but it never failed to fluster you.

"Are you free around lunch?" Minho asks again. You confirmed your free schedule for tomorrow before writing down some of your ideas.

"How did you even find an interior designer that quick?" you asked Minho when he walked into the cafe the next morning. He decided that it would be best if both of you talked first and sort out some things.

"Let's say I have... friends... who have connections..." he drawled. Your eyes widen at the confession. "It'll be great, trust me," Minho adds.

Around lunch, a middle-aged woman walked inside the cafe, looking around the place. You quickly notice this and nudge Minho's elbow. He stood up instantly, approaching the woman before guiding her to where you were sitting.

After exchanging names, she took out a catalog. Colors drained from Minho's face, a grave mistake that prompted you to look at him in confusion.

"Sorry," you said softly, "uh... I think there's a misunderstanding here." You smiled thinly. The words on the cover of the catalog look both funny and scary at the same time.

"Newlyweds Home: Interior Strategies"

Minho gulps down, mentally cursing himself.

"Oh?" the designer questioned. Looking as confused as you are. "Well, yesterday Minho said he and his partner need a consultation for a co-owned space, wouldn't that be your new home?" she continues.

"It's the cafe," Minho answered. Although his hands are itchy to snatch the catalog and look at the details of each page. He's looking at your expression, wondering if you're interested. Like he is.

"Oh!" she exclaims. Laughing awkwardly. "Well, you see, I'm actually specialized in residential interior design, not commercial ones, though I can do it as well, but I'd rather refer you to someone I know if that's okay..."

Minho inhales sharply, a smile formed on his lips. "That would be amazing, thanks!"

And just like that, the woman quickly put back the catalog in her bag, took out a name card, and slid it over to Minho. All three of you talk for a moment before Minho escorts her out.

For a split second, you were actually thinking about what it's like to actually have your own home. Build your own family. With Minho.

"Well that was awkward," Minho said when he came back in. You punched his shoulder playfully. Unable to get over the silliness. "How would I know if residential and commercial interior design is different?" he tried to defend himself. Following you to the back room.

"Well, maybe next time we'll do the research together, dummy," you said, taking a glass of water. Your cheeks feel hot for no particular reason.

"Agree," Minho answered.

Maybe next time, both of you will still consider the residential interior design too. Maybe when both of you had the courage to actually let the heart lead for once.

a/n. minho is such a "whatever you say, beautiful" typa person i just know it in my heart. also mutual pining!! isn't it frustrating to read? ((bcs it is frustrating to write...)) my reader self was like "kiss already!" but no... for this one you get to decide what happens next ((or should i make a second installation? lmk heheh<3))

[moonlightskids]

playful bites

werewolf au! (fluff, slightly nsfw)

minho was watching you run around with the younger wolves. the pack was out on the big backyard of the house that opened to the forest and some meters deeper, into the town’s lake. you, jisung, hyunjin, felix and seungmin were playing tag on your wolf form, as the older ones discussed topics you had little to no interest on.

the smile on minho’s face as he watches you wrestle with hyunjin,the biggest wolf of the pack, and win, pinning him to the ground, fangs on his neck and a mix of legs and furr, could rival jeongin’s famous bread one. after hyunjin, you go for felix, winning over him easly as the honey colored wolf worries about hurting you more than the competition at hand, you take this kind of games way too seriously for no reason, trying to prove your worth as the mate of the second in command. satisfied with taking down the two wolves, you trot slowly to the porch were changbin and chan seemed to be having a heated conversation about something you don´t quite catch.

moving to the side were minho is sitting, legs propped on the coffee table, you sit in your back legs, looking at him expectantly, your eyes have that mischevious light that minho recognizes as a dare and he scoffs in response. he turns his head to the side quickly but you don’t miss the glint in his eyes that matches yours.

“you want me to join?” he asks, a playful tone on his question. you nod eagerly and after looking at the others laying on the grass with tired expressions he agrees with a sigh, you’re his responsability after all and he is nothing but a gentleman, if his mate wants to roll around on the ground till he, inevitably, ends up on top of you and with another win to add to your scoreboard, so be it, you asked for it.

standing up, he goes back inside the house, you watch attentively as his form dissapears behind the column that separates the back’s big entrance and the kitchen, a confused whine coming out only to be silenced when minho comes back in his wolf form, a 7ft dark brown wolf, not as tall as hyunjin’s but definitely boader and more handsome, if that’s an adjective you’ll use to describe an animal anyways.

minho walks towards you and nudges your head softly with his muzzle. the action making you close your eyes, totally infatuated with his touch and scent, the smell of burning wood and peppermint so strong it makes you dizzy, but no enough to forget why you called him over. 

winning against minho is not an easy fit, he might not be as strong as chan and changbin but his mischevious side is too good at playing dirty. his expression changes into one of fake annoyance as if he knows what you’re planning on doing and without a warning he snaps at you, almost catching your nape and ending the game, but in a lucky moment you move away right on time and start running with minho chasing you. the two of you run around the line of threes, but without going in, the forest can be tricky and you’re not the only pack of supernatural being on the zone.

you last a total of three minutes before he finally tackles you down to the floor, in your defense, you had been playing around for a while and you were already tired, yeah that’s why you lost so soon and not because you got distracted with a squirrel. he bites you on the neck, his way of stopping you from trying to get away fom him. when he’s sure you won’t move anymore, he let’s go of you, rolling over to lay on his tummy, closing his eyes as if saying he’s done enough to entertain you, but you know better than to listen to him so without a warning, you put your muzzle under him, roll him over and lay on top of him.

“great job, y/n” chan yells from his place at the house where he is sitting with his own mate. at the words of his pack mate, minho rolls his eyes and pushes you gently so he can lay on top of you now, his tongue licking your face, you growl at him, you notice it didn’t sound as playful as you had wished when you see him stand up, still hovering over you and baring his teeth, an even deeper growl coming from him. you whine softly, nozzling closer to him asking for forgiveness, he scoffs shaking his head and moving off of you.

chan most have told everyone to go back inside cause when you get your head off of minho’s neck, the boys start walking in, changing into their human form one by one. when everyone’s already in their rooms, minho and you make your ways to your shared bedroom.

after you’re done changing and go back down to the livingroom, you find the boys scattered around. jeongin is back from school and is laying flat on the floor, still with his uniform on. running you throw yourself on him, a groan coming from his pouty mouth, but before you can even start a play fight you feel minho’s arms around you, pulling you away from the youngest boy.

“what do you think you’re doing?”, his voice is serious but you can see a light smile on his face.

“i just wanna play”, you pout, trying to convince him to let you down, instead, he puts you over his shoulder and carries you back upstairs and you hear a ’please don’t be loud’ from jeongin before your mate closes the door.

you enter your room and minho finally puts you down, rather ungracefully causing you to fall into the bed head first, “that was mean” you whine as you sit up and try to get your hair in order.

minho rolls his eyes at you, but before you can start complaining even more, he gives you a meaningful look and you tense, “i’m in charge of taking care of you and the pack, but you’re making it really hard”, his words lack the usual seriousness he uses when he’s talking the pack’s wellbeing but you can see in the way his mouth tenses that he means what he’s saying.

you lay back on the bed slowly, still looking at him and sigh, “i just wanna have some fun”, minho sits next to you, taking you in his arms you can sit on his lap. 

“i know, but not everything can be a game”, now is your turn to roll your eyes at him, “we’re still on high alert after what happened to jisung, remember?”. two weeks ago, jisung was walking back from his classes when a group of hunters appeared out of nowhere, if it hadn’t been for changbin who was close by things might have been worst than a couple of scraps. you nod in understanding and hear him sigh happily.

he moves dropping you, this time softly, on the bed and gives you a kiss on your forehead, “now”, he says sliding his cold hand under your shirt, “how about we play a little”, when his eyes lock on yours they’re a warm deep shade of gold.

“ok” you whisper out breath from that light contact and he kisses you, a warm sweet kiss, “i love you, minho”

“i love you too”, he says firmly before hiding his face on your neck, humming happily at your sweet scent.

——————————————————————————

adding to the werwofl au craziness. can’t remember if this fits with my other werewolf ones but i hope you guys like it! let me know if you’re interested in a continuation or if you want werewolf aus for the other members.

[starlostseungmin]

— friends, lmh.

pairing: minho x gn!reader genre: angst warnings: profanity, kissing, minho is a jerk, not proofread. word count: 1.1k notes: here's the lee know angst i promised. lol. it's from the poll, but anyway, i've got a short free time tonight so here it is! don't forget to comment and reblog! thank you lovely ♡

his back met the white wall painfully as you pushed him against it. a wince of pain from his mouth escalated quickly but he drew a smirk on his face. he never felt so sincere with you to begin with. if it weren’t for jisung telling you how minho has been doing shits behind your back, you’d be one gullible person with an innocent perspective. you know it is risky to have this kind of relationship with him, but you can’t blame yourself for falling in love. he gave signs of affection but they were all mixed signals. you shouldn’t act like this, being all hurt and crying until your mascara runs down your cheeks. what’s the point of crying over a player? 

“what the hell are we?” you asked, tears streaming down your face. 

minho just let out a soft chuckle, not giving a shit on what you were feeling that night. the question keeps repeating all the time, yet he couldn’t give you a decent answer. maybe he’s just playing with you after finding out you like him despite the rumors (which were proven true). a player who loves to leave broken pieces of fragile hearts. he is that jerk. all those feelings you have and the days being spent with you mean nothing to him. if he is this heartless, he shouldn’t have played the game in the first place. 

“fuck you!” your voice echoes through the quiet room of your apartment. his face was hard to read, and his eyes seemed to be sympatheticーnothing. 

maybe there were times that he used to hold you when you were crying and upset with him, a kiss would seal all the complaints and his touch would make your body burn, wanting for more. he did things that made you fall into his trap but never reassured you what kind of relationship you have. you could feel how you were treated like an object when he wakes up usually at 5 in the morning from your bed as you lie naked underneath the sheets. minho often stays with youーthe controversy of doing this without any label made you question your worth. 

maybe you were just blinded by love that you couldn’t see his flaws. maybe he is a skilled player that could make his victims swoon over him. shit blow things up and you couldn’t get up. you love him so much that you just want to be used and be gullible. but jisung’s nagging made you come through. you wanted to be more than just friends with benefits and yet minho wanted to remain the same. he doesn’t love you, none of those affections were real and even if you get mad at him, nothing will change anything. minho is still that jerk. 

“i thought we agreed that we’re just friends,” he said, sounding like a total asshole. of course, he knew, he always knew. 

“but i love you!” you cried. minho just stared back, confused as to why you were acting like this. everything means nothing. 

“well i don’t, y/n,” he said. “don’t be so dramatic about this,” the sound of your palm slapping his cheek was loud enough to leave him in shock. it was painful, but nothing compares to what you were feeling. minho stood there frozen for being caught off guard. “y/n,” 

your hands were shaking, eyes darted on him filled with pain as your tears never stopped streaming. maybe he might have a change of heart or develop some feelings for you, even for one bit. he saw you so bent out of shape. you admit that you are also at fault for letting down your guard when you totally agreed to be just friends with benefits and now you’re here.

“am i really nothing? those things we did were nothing?” you asked as your voice cracked and shaky. he never saw you being so hyped up before and now he’s sure that you really want to blow shit up. 

“you don’t really understand do you?” minho scoffed. “we’re just friends y/n, nothing is really up with usー” 

“tell me we weren’t just friends! this doesn’t make much sense to me minho!” you said. “fuck! ignore that friends-with-benefits bullshit, iー” you paused, running your hands on your face. “fuck, i can’t believe i fell for you. i’m getting some fresh air,” you said and were about to take the exit from your apartment when he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around as he pulled you closer to his bodyーa hand around your waist, and his hand wrapping your wrist lightly. he stared straight into your eyes, you were left dumbfounded when he looks at you with a serious look, an expression that is confusing and hard to read. “what the fuck are you doing? let me go you fucker!” you said, but he didn’t listen. 

“i didn’t know you would act up like this y/n,” he smiled as he turned you around, pushing you as your back hits the wall. jerk. you looked at him, unknown of your feelings yet your heart started to beat faster than usual. why is your heart so fragile when it comes to him anyway? he’s not even your boyfriend. “do you like me that much?” he smirked as you avoided his eye contact but his fingers grabbed your chin to face him again, cheeks started to flush yet your eyes filled with irritation. 

“you heartless jerk,” you retorted when his lips met yours. his hand fell on your name, pulling you closer for much access to your lips as he gives a desperate one. you tried to push him away but he would just keep on pulling you deeper. his kisses never fail to give you butterflies in your stomach but right now, you don’t know anymore. there were several attempts of pushing him away until he decided to let go. the kiss is not worth it anymore. you hate him as much as you hate yourself for getting caught in his trap. maybe it was time to put an end to things. minho never loved you. it was just a game where he would use you for his past time and pleasure. 

you left your apartment that night and minho stared at the door where you took the exit. maybe it was all wrong and he was desperate about you. but the fact that the damage has already been done, he wouldn’t be able to fix things now. the regret he felt, the sadness and heartbreakーmaybe minho felt something for you, even if just a smidge. but how would he be able to get you back when you cut it all off? a sigh escaped from your lips as you burned all the pictures you had with him, but then there’s minho who keeps on staring at your window from the street, wanting to change and make up. yet he knew it won’t be all easy. 

taglist : @wolfchanchan ,, @1-800-lixie ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @lix-ables ,, @zoe8stay ,, @gwynsapphire ,, @cherryhanji ,, @lixesque ,, @seungly ,, @sleepyleeji ,, @comet-falls ,, @kim-seung-mo ,, @ppiri-bahng ,, @myjisung ,, @snow-pegasus ,, @milkybonya ,, @l3visbby ,, @wilczachannn ,, @asters-abditory ,, @tangylemonade ,, @hwan-g ,, @awkwardnesshabitat ,, @chrispychans ,, @therealhyunjingf ,, @hyunverse ,, @starseungs ,, @skizzen ,, @lino-jagiyaa ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @rachabreathing ,, @svngiem

[snowyquokka]

my latest wip

[latteseungs]

boxer : lee know

boxer : lmh

pairing: boxer!lee know x reader genre: mutual pining, angst, fluff, best friends to lovers!au, boxer!au, fight for my way au, ft. boxer!changbin, boxer!felix, and hyunjin. word count: 5.7k warnings: multiple mentions of blood, wounds, injuries, slight violence, explicit language, nicknames (baby, babe), slightly proof read - please tell me if i missed anything disclaimer: heavily inspired by the kdrama fight for my way. it may (?) contain spoilers of some sort. this is NOT the exact same plot as the drama. it is just inspired by some scenes.

✦ 。description: what will you do if you’re afraid of seeing your best friend of twenty years get hurt yet his dream is to become a boxer? and to add some spice into the mix, you think you can’t hide that you’re hopelessly in love with him anymore.

📓 .ﾟ𓂃 masterlist | click here for my taglist feedback is always welcome! reblogs are very much appreciated <3

“You’re already ugly enough. Why would you let other people do that for you by beating your ass?”

Minho gave you a piercing glare while he folded his blankets. You were the one that wanted to box him at that moment when he mentioned that he’s training to be a professional boxer again after eight years. You thought you and his family made it well aware that all of you cannot bear seeing him hurt, but of course, when did he ever listen?

“If I was ugly, then girls won’t be lining up to get boxing lessons from me, idiot,” he huffed, probably still very offended that you called him ugly.

You groaned at the comment, throwing your spoon on the drain. You won’t be able to knock some sense into him, especially now that his pride is on the line. The boxer that cheated in a match against Minho is back at being the meathead he is. For some reason, Seo Changbin, a rich and famous boxer, is shitting on Minho again for being unable to make it in the sport. You don’t understand the fact that Changbin is probably swimming in money, so why is he suddenly getting interested in Minho, who has already made peace with his career a long time ago.

“Wow. I bet all those girls pay for lessons just to drool at you, Coach Minho,” sarcastic as ever, you angrily washed the dishes. Doongie started meowing beside you, hating the noise that you were making. You stuck a tongue out at him. And this is why Dori is your favorite.

“Oh, they do…” Minho trailed off, trying to gauge your reaction. “Some really love touching my biceps when they tend to fall down—”

“Who the fuck falls down during a training session for boxing?” you exclaimed, bubbly water going all over the place, some of it landing on Doongie’s face. Minho may have been your friend for the longest time, but you won’t hold yourself back from being the one who would bruise his face if he keeps mentioning the girls he trains for fun.

It may have been a mistake to hint that you were starting to feel more for him. Last week, you told him that he’s suddenly making your heart flutter— cheesy. But you haven’t told him you really felt. It was kind of… a warning. It’s like you’re giving him a chance to decide if he wants things to go further with you, let things remain as they are, or worse, create some distance. You’re not really expecting anything from him, guessing he was still kind of hung up from his toxic (but long-time) ex-girlfriend, Hyewon. So if he still chooses Hyewon over you or your friendship over being with you, then that shit would hurt, but you were ready for it.

Since the day you kind of admitted your feelings, it looks like he decided to be normal for now. But then again, you can’t help but think that he was testing where your limit was with him. He should be thankful that you already built a ‘tolerance wall’ for all his attempts to break your composure. But that tolerance wall is being torn apart brick by brick. He shouldn’t be surprised that you will be the one kissing him the next time he does something stupid (or, in other words, cute and sweet).

“Ya! You’re wasting water. Turn off the tap!” Minho shouted while he laughed, splashing you with water before he turned it off himself. He ignored you for the most part as he continued doing the dishes for you and wiping away the stray bubbles in his cat’s face.

Minho screamed through the phone, dragging every syllable of your name. Your eyebrow arched in question. It was around one in the morning, and he was calling you… sounding very drunk. Remembering that he mentioned something about having a few drinks with old friends, you didn’t really think he would get drunk, especially not on a weekday.

It was pretty noisy on the other end of the line, but you could hear your friend’s loud hiccups. “You…” he paused with another hiccup. “I like you.”

Glancing at the caller ID, you made sure it was really Lee Minho calling you. Your screen flashed with his name. And just like that, your heart was to your throat once again.

The things you feel because of him are really out of this world. It’s like he has you wrapped around his finger, and he probably does. You’re just too scared to admit it.

“Minho?” You tried to confirm again, still not believing what you were hearing.

“Yes! It’s me! I said what I said!” He yelled. “I like you.”

“Eh?!”

At this point, you were choking on air. You tapped your face a couple of times, making sure you were awake. Are you that whipped that you’re starting to imagine things? You were definitely not. Is he too drunk to not even know what he’s talking about? Probably.

“Ya, are you deaf? I like you,” Minho slurred, but you could hear him clearly. Was it the alcohol talking? But you also know that he doesn’t do irrational shit like this. He would usually let someone hold his phone to prevent butt and drunken calls based on his multiple experiences. So why is he suddenly calling you to say these things?

Finally calming down a notch, you cleared your throat, heart still probably stuck there, “are you sure?”

“What do you mean, am I sure? Yeah, I’m sure! Why won’t you believe me?” He cried out, probably annoyed by now. “I’ve probably said it a hundred times now.”

Somehow, your brain just forgot all the words in all existing languages because you just managed a small “oh.”

In the end, you just told him that he had had enough to drink and should probably go to sleep because you were sure he would complain of a shattering headache in the morning. Surprisingly, he agreed. No arguments, no bickering; he even said good night.

Minho was probably out good. As for you, you couldn’t sleep. Thinking if he really just told you how he felt. Your mind was racing with what will happen to the two of you. What would you be after tonight?

Not together. That’s what you are. That’s your current relationship with Minho. Minho, who was stumbling down the hallway of your apartment building, eyes still half open. Your eyes traveled to his arms that were around… Hyewon. Of course.

You cringed at the way he called him oppa in that sickly sweet voice of hers when you know very well that that wasn’t how she usually talked. “Oppa, c’mon, just a little bit closer,” she said, hand around his waist as he tried to balance her very hungover ex-boyfriend. Minho groaned at her as a reply, barely walking.

Finally, having had enough of Hyewon’s shit, you followed them inside Minho’s apartment. She slowly put him down on his couch as you stood there waiting for her to wrap up her little act.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You went straight to the point, not caring if Minho heard you. He knows well enough how much you hate her. How can you not when you got drunk too many times while comforting Minho for all the shit she did to him. She breaks his heart, but at the end of the day, she’s the one crawling back to him. The worst part? He keeps taking her back.

Hyewon sighed as if she was already bored with you, “do you know this thing called ‘minding your own business?’ You should try it sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes at her, hands curling on your side. “Stop putting him on a hook. You and I both know that he doesn’t deserve that.”

She ignored you as she got water and aspirin from the medicine cabinet. You hate how she knows where everything is. You hate how she knows aspirin and water can already cure Minho’s hangover. You hate how she’s the one taking care of Minho right now.

“I thought Minho already said enough was enough with you?” You continued to question her.

“If enough was enough, he wouldn’t be calling me at seven in the morning, asking me to come to pick him up.”

Being run over by a train was what it felt like hearing what she said. But you continued your brave and unfazed façade with her, not wanting to look weak. “Are you sure? Maybe you’re creating fucked up stories again for your own benefit.”

“You’re the one to talk,” she scoffed, walking closer to you. She was trying to intimidate you. You could feel how she stared you down like you were nothing but dirt to her. “Minho won’t ever look at you more than a friend. Know your place.”

Another train ran you over. Once again, you were left in tangles, with no idea what to do or feel. The only right thing Hyewon did was to leave the room before you did. You returned to your apartment not long after, not daring to check on Minho because it felt like you couldn’t bear to look at him even if he was asleep.

“Why are you making me feel like this, Lee Minho, you shithead,” you whispered to yourself, sliding down on your door and landing on the cold floor. One minute he says he likes you, and the next minute he’s going home with his ex-girlfriend, with hands all over her.

“You’re going out again?” Minho asked as you were locking the door. You have been trying to avoid him since that one morning. You’re guessing that he doesn’t remember anything that happened that day, so you were sure that he doesn’t even remember your phone call with him. It makes you think it didn’t happen, but your phone call log says otherwise.

It was nice of him not to ask why you’re suddenly making your distance, probably giving your privacy and respecting your boundaries. God, even when avoiding him, he sounds so fucking sweet to you.

Today, though, it feels like it’s finally taking a toll on him. No early breakfasts with him, no drinking on the rooftop, and he has not even stepped a single foot in your apartment and vice versa. You were starting to miss his cats even if Doongie is always so bratty whenever you come over. It’s better to be liked by Soonie and Dori rather than getting hated by all three of them, anyway (yeah, they all hate Hyewon).

Minho bumped your shoulder with his hands in his pockets, looking at you with his doll-like eyes. “Let me drive you. Where are you headed?”

You lightly shook your head by giving him a soft smile, “Hyunjin’s gonna pick me up.” Hyunjin, the oh-so-gorgeous guy you have been seeing on a couple of dates, is on his way to pick you up for another one. You thought that if you weren’t getting over Minho anytime soon, you might as well try and date to distract yourself, right?

Right…?

A soft ‘oh’ came out of Minho’s lips, eyes traveling down to his feet. He cleared his throat before looking back at you, “Can you at least come to my match next week?” He said, voice almost whispering.

You sighed, “you know the answer to that,” you mumbled, shoulders dropping. Even if you want to see and support him, you just cannot torture yourself like that. You have made it well known to him since day one that you wouldn’t be able to support him as much as you did before, but you would do your best. You can’t just sit and watch him take punches, no matter how petty that sounds.

“You date other guys, then you at least won’t go to my match?”

Confused, that was what Minho was feeling. What was all the “heart fluttering confession” you made when you’re just going to go out with another guy? Were you toying with his feelings? You can’t just drop a bomb like that on him and not expect any effect on him. It was already bothering him that you weren’t talking to him these days, but now you’re seeing other people? You didn’t even bother telling him about the guy. All Minho knows is that he was an old co-worker of yours. Minho bets he looks way better anyway.

The elevator bell dinged, and there exited someone sporting long blonde hair. He looked and walked like a model that you see on magazine covers. Minho’s mouth almost dropped to the ground when the guy greeted you. He suddenly felt conscious of how he looked in his sweats and hoodie.

Minho guesses that this is the man you’re seeing. He looked like he came from a fashion show and went straight here.

“Hyunjin, you didn’t have to come to pick me up all the way here,” you said shyly, slightly grabbing his arm and guiding him back towards the elevators.

You were so close to getting away until Minho called. “Aren’t you at least going to introduce me?” he said from behind. You turned your head to him to see him tapping his feet, arms crossed. You let out an internal groan, trying your best not to roll your eyes at him. He’s being protective again when he doesn’t need to be. Sometimes he still treats you like you were the same helpless girl back when you were kids when he knows you could fend for yourself.

Taking in a deep breath, you forced a smile. “Hyunjin, this is my neighbor, Minho,” you said through your teeth, not wanting your date to get the wrong idea. Minho looked at you questioningly at your introduction before bowing back to the man beside you.

“Best friend. I’m actually y/n’s best friend,” Minho offered his hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin accepted the handshake, and you were already pushing him away before Minho could corner him and ask him more questions like a strict father. “C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” you said, two hands now in his arms to get him to start moving.

“It was nice meeting you!” Hyunjin exclaimed from his shoulder to Minho as you dragged him to the elevator. You don’t even see him, but you were sure as hell that he did not return the smile back.

The music blared in the speakers as Minho stepped foot before the boxing ring. Lights were on him, and he could hear screams, cheers, cameras, and the host introducing him. He took a deep breath, eyes wandering the crowd to see at least a glimpse of you, but to his disappointment, you were nowhere to be found.

Minho didn’t really expect you to be there. At least a visit to his dressing room before the match started would make a huge difference. Every time someone opened the door, his eyes immediately shot to the person that entered, but he would frown to see that it wasn’t you. Every time his phone lit up, he thought it was you sending a message to wish him luck, but every single time, he sighed, resorting to just turning off his phone.

It was shitty how Changbin’s team moved the fight to an earlier date, knowing that Minho would be tired. They must think he couldn’t win if he was drained and out of it as he joined a couple of amateur boxing matches.

This is how Changbin is at the top of his game. He won multiple times, not a single ugly record because he turned the boxing industry into his own playground with his money. He makes people his little pawns for amusement. He keeps his career record spotless by making twists and turns just with a couple wads of cash. Typical.

“You can do this,” coach Lee patted Minho’s back, assuring him that he would do great. He saw Changbin from the other end of the ring, looking smug with his multiple staff members.

Removing his shirt and wearing his mouthpiece, he gave coach Lee a quick hug before stepping inside the ring. Changbin gave him a stare-down, but Minho didn’t budge. It would take more than a look to shake him up.

This was probably the biggest match in his career, yet all he could think about was where you were and why weren’t you here to watch him. The referee was holding Minho’s glove and his competitor’s, but his mind and eyes were elsewhere.

That’s when he saw you. All the referee’s words suddenly blurred into nothingness as he stared at you. He can barely see your face with your cap on, but how can he not recognize you when you wore his favorite hoodie, hands to your ears even if the match hasn’t even started yet. He scoffed happily when you were startled by a bell ding. You were so endearing and adorable that Minho could feel his chest physically tighten.

If any jitters and nervousness were in Minho’s bloodstream, it was gone within seconds. He bumped his gloves together, eyes never leaving the other man in front of him. Changbin was very buff compared to him, who was merely lean for a boxer. But that didn’t mean Minho wasn’t good at his passion.

Two rounds flashed through, Changbin now sporting a bleeding eyebrow and a crooked nose. Minho was barely touched, but he has to admit that he was starting to feel quite tired. But when he took a glimpse of your figure, looking so tiny and afraid in that little corner, he knew that he needed to end the match soon.

“Ya. Why are you crying?”

For more than twenty years that you were his best friend, you swore you would never see him get beat up in a boxing match again. You could still feel yourself crumble as you pushed the hospital bed where he lay to the emergency room, unconscious and covered with blood. He was so stupid for agreeing to do this again. But who were you to prevent him from continuing his dream?

“Hey,” Minho said in a softer tone. “I won. you can open your eyes now.”

Sniffing, you slowly put your hands down from covering your ears. You could hear multiple camera shutters around you, whispers and mumbles about who you were surrounding your senses. Still, all you could feel right then was Minho’s hand on your leg, doing his best to comfort you.

You opened your eyes, and you were absolutely overwhelmed. You were not gobsmacked with all the stares you were receiving but at how Minho looked at you. For some reason, you couldn’t breathe. The way he looked at you was so… heavy, not in a wrong way but in a good-heart-wrenching-gut-twisting-way.

“But do you really have to do this?” Tears still spilled from your eyes even if he’s right in front of you, perfectly fine and unharmed. You thought that you could do it. You thought that you could see him fight again. But you can not even be more wrong. With every punch on him, it was like you felt it too. You were too damn scared that the past would repeat itself. You just can’t bear seeing him in a hospital again, barely breathing and barely awake.

But Minho didn’t respond. He just stared at you, a slight smile crawling up his lips.

“I’m in trouble,” he mumbled, caressing your thigh. “you look so pretty even when you cry.”

He stood up, grabbed your hand, and helped you stand up. He effortlessly guided you through the crowd of photographers, journalists, and audiences that formed a group in front of you. It was so noisy and chaotic, but through all that chaos, all you can see is Minho holding your hand tightly as he walked confidently with you right behind him.

That’s when you know that you’re in trouble too.

When you arrived backstage, you slowly separated your hand from Minho’s hold, feeling like you were back in the real world.

“You have to stop doing things like this,” you whispered to him. You were afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself any longer. Sometimes, you just want to tell him everything to get over it. But a part of you knows that you should just let him go and let him be with Hyewon if that’s what he really wants.

Minho looked confused, trying to take back your hand, but you stopped him. “Please stop,” you were starting to hate how desperate you sounded. It was so pitiful.

“I’m really starting to fall in love with you, Minho.”

He was shocked, mouth agape as he blinked at you. But you didn’t let him answer nor react, trying to avoid your expected heartbreak from the guy you were so sure would never hurt you. “I know, okay? I know that it’s not me. I know it’s stupid to tell you this. I know that you’re getting back with Hyewon.

“So Minho, please, stop doing things like this so it would be easier for me to stop myself from falling in love with you. Please, spare me the heartbreak.”

“Minho! There you are!” Coach Lee exclaimed, tears starting to form as his eyes landed on Minho. “Let’s go and celebrate! I’ve always known that you could do it!”

Minho was dumbfounded. Everything was happening all at once at a fast speed. He didn’t know which emotion to feel. It was like information overload in his brain, him winning, you think he was getting back together with his ex… you falling in love with him. Everything was suddenly all over the place.

No matter how hard Minho tries, he can’t find the words to say. It’s been around three days, and all he did was train at the gym from dawn ’til midnight. Now he’s just staring at the ceiling, back on the boxing ring’s floor as he removed his hand wraps. There was no sign of you in person nor through texts or calls. Ironic how he thinks about that because it feels like he’s living in the gym now.

“Minho, go home and rest. You don’t have to keep pushing yourself like this,” Coach Lee called from the other side of the ring. The words just passed through Minho’s ears, eyes still blank. He was so confused and overwhelmed by all the events, and now even with the match against Changbin being over, he can’t help but keep training.

“Minho,” he heard Coach Lee’s voice in a much stricter tone, making him stand up.

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” He grudged, picking up his gloves from the floor.

He shouldn’t be this scared of bumping into you when he gets home, but he is. He doesn’t even know what to tell you. He’s so afraid to say the wrong things that it would ruin everything for the both of you.

What confused him even more, is that you were dating. You were dating such a handsome guy at that. First, you hint something about having feelings for him, then you date, then tell him you’re falling in love? What is up with that? Was he not getting it? Was he missing a piece in this sort of puzzle that you have?

Twisting his car keys in one hand and holding onto the strap of his bag with the other, he finally exited the gym.

“Hyung!” Someone called out to him. He was surprised to bump into Felix, carrying his boxing gloves as he greeted Minho with a big, bright smile.

“Felix! I didn’t know we go to the same gym?” Minho gave the younger one a side hug. He was pretty close with Felix considering that they both went to the same school and were even in the same dance crew when they were in high school. The last time he saw him was at the party he threw a few weeks ago, where Minho got extremely wasted that he didn’t even remember how he got home.

They chatted for a while before Felix finally said his goodbyes as he had a training appointment. Minho was about to leave when Felix mentioned something. “Say hi to your girlfriend for me!”

“Girlfriend?” The last time he checked, he didn’t have a girlfriend, especially a few weeks ago.

“Yeah! Is y/n not your girlfriend yet?” Felix asked, also genuinely confused with the situation.

“Oh no, no, we’re not together,” Minho was not even convinced with his own answer. He has no idea where Felix got the information he knew at the moment. Still, it wasn’t foreign to Minho as you were both mistaken as a couple multiple times before.

Felix seemed embarrassed from the assumption he made, cheeks quite red. “Oh, sorry, Hyung. I thought you were finally together when you called her last time we were together.”

Called? Last time they were together? What?

“Sorry, my memory is kinda hazy from that day. Can I ask what I told her?”

“You were practically screaming on the phone that you liked her.”

You were about to open your apartment door when your phone rang in your pocket. Looking at the caller ID, you immediately put it back and entered your home. You were not in the mood to talk to Minho after he avoided you for three days. You know you don’t have the right to even be mad because maybe this was his decision, but you can’t help it. You two have been attached to the bone for the longest time, yet rejecting and facing you seemed impossible.

He could have just said it to your face if he didn’t like you.

This week was nothing but tiring for you. You also met up with Hyunjin to call it quits with him, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to have feelings for him. He was nice, sweet, and such a good catch. Still, you just can’t let anything develop between you, knowing he might be the only one working the relationship. You didn’t want to lead him on.

Your phone started ringing again, the same person you were trying not to think about on the other line. You didn’t even care and pressed ignore before switching to silent mode. Peace and quiet were the only things you wanted tonight after a long week, but that was immediately out of the picture when someone came pounding on the door.

Groaning, you stood up, still in your work clothes as you came to answer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You stumbled on your feet, stepping back. Minho was panting, asking you the question a little aggressively. He was still in his training clothes, and from the looks of it, he had just got home.

You looked at him, not knowing what he was talking about. “Tell you what?”

“All this time, you knew, and you didn’t tell me?” He asked again, a little less aggressive than the first time. He ran a hand through his glistening hair. Sweat trailed down his forehead. Did he come running here?

“Tell you what?”

“That I liked you!”

Minho looked at you expectantly, but you just stood there, still having no idea what was happening. He was tired of going around circles with you that he just leaned in, kissing you with everything he had. He dropped his things to the ground, hands circling your waist as he kissed you deeper.

For once, you finally stopped thinking, kissing him back with the same passion as he did with you. All these years, you did nothing but overanalyze situations and did what you thought was the best for everyone but you. Not once did you fight for what you wanted. Not once did you let yourself have feelings for your best friend because you think he deserved someone better. Not once did you fight Hyewon even with all the shitty things she did because you thought Minho loved her so much. But today, right now, at this very moment, you choose yourself over everyone else.

Lips still attached to yours, Minho led you inside your apartment, closing the door with his foot, but he did not let go of you once. Your back hit the wall, but his hands pushed your body to his. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, and it felt heavenly as you opened your mouth for him.

You held his face and slowly released your lips from his, taking in a breath. His other arm was on the side of your head as it caged you to the wall. Your heart was pounding loudly, and you swear you think Minho heard it too from how he was so close to you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked again, softer, giving you a peck.

You bit your lip, preventing the smile from growing from the way he kissed you. “You were drunk. You didn’t know what you were saying.” He was about to rebut, you could see from the way his face contorted, but you stopped him with a quick kiss, and that was effective enough to silence him and get his face all red. “Also, you came home still a bit drunk with Hyewon.”

Minho stood straight, but his hands still sat gently on your waist, making your heart beat erratically. “Hyewon?” He questioned, to which you nodded. He seemed confused by what you said as he tried recollecting the memories of that day.

“She also said that you called her to pick you up. She told me that you wouldn’t see me other than a best friend, so I just let you guys be,” Even after he kissed you, you were scared to see his reaction. But Minho put his hand on your chin and lifted your face so you could look at him.

He looked intently at your eyes, and you felt your gut twist the same way it turned the day of his match. He was terrifyingly beautiful that it made your breath hitch every single time.

“You are my best friend,” he started, face inching closer to yours. “But I also like you… very much,” he kissed you again, gentler this time. His lips were nothing you imagined, but they were plump and flushed against yours perfectly.

“Wait, so she’s not your girlfriend?” You asked, hands to his chest.

“She’s not you.”

“Who even said I agreed to be your girlfriend?” You questioned playfully. Minho responded with a slight pinch to your side, which made you giggle and squirm in his hold.

“But seriously, why was she taking you home that day?” You asked in a more serious tone as you combed through his hair. Minho hummed quietly as you gently scratched the back of his head. You smiled, remembering that he was just a huge human cat.

“She crashed the party uninvited that day. My memory is quite hazy with what happened, but you could check my phone and see that I even blocked her number like I told you a few months ago.” Minho moaned softly, resting his head on your hand, eyes closing at the contact.

You sighed happily, looking at every part of his face. From his eyebrows to his unfairly long eyelashes, his sharp nose, and his now slightly swollen lips. You can’t believe that someone like him was in your arms, looking like a greek statue of some sort.

“Enough about me,” he suddenly said, eyes opening. “You’re the one that dated an actual model.” You laughed at that, his lips forming to pout as you continued to giggle. It did seem like he was pretty jealous the day he met Hyunjin, but you just passed it off as his protective instincts over you.

“That Hyunjin guy was gorgeous.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to think I made the wrong decision of breaking up with him,” you teased, smirking at your best friend.

Kissing Minho’s pout away, you whispered to his lips, “but I would choose you over him any day.” Hyunjin was a walking fashion model, but you would give the world to just keep on choosing Minho over and over again.

His smile made you want to melt. Knowing that this smile is only for you and for you to see is heart-wrenching. Minho really had this kind of effect on you that no one could ever make you feel. For the longest time, you thought this was normal. You thought you would feel like this to any of your friends. But you were young and naïve to realize that you were absolutely smitten.

“For the record,” Minho hummed, resting his forehead against yours, “I would keep choosing you every day too.”

“Over Hyunjin?”

Copyright © 2022. latteseungs on tumblr. reposts are NOT allowed.

taglist:  @ckline35​, @suyesse, @idek-at-this-point-lol​ , @dionyseung-s, @skzpdf , @biribarabiribbaem , @http-ch1fuyu , @strwbwrrypoprocks , @102598s , @emmie5168 , @0coffee-slut0 , @horangheyy , @todorokiskitten​ , @bobacl0ud [i can’t tag those in bold :<] thank you so much for letting me tag you! i hope you enjoy <3 feel free to leave an ask to be removed ^^

author’s note: i am not gonna lie but i really had trouble writing this. i didn’t know where i wanted it to go and revised it multiple times. i hope the way it turned out is the best one out of all the options i was thinking about. :< also! there is kind of an extended version of this. i decided to cut the latter part since it didn’t really add to the plot. please leave something on my inbox if you want me to release it!

if you made it up to this point, you are a legend and i love you. thanks for stopping by. i hope you had a great time~ if you did, don’t forget to leave a note and reblog <3

[straylightdream]

“𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐈 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭“

Lee Minho x F.Reader

friends with benefits / roommates au

↳ The lines between friends and lovers is quick to blur. There isn’t anyone you would rather spend your time with, and he finds his sweet escape when he’s alone with you. What started out as casual thing that was supposed to be secret kept between the two of you leads to so much more. 

wc: 5.7k

warnings: soft dom! Minho, unprotected sex, rougher sex, dirty talk, begging, overstimulation, edging, dry humping, names such as: (kitten, angel), breeding kink, creampie, oral (male and female receiving), cum play and cum eating. Minho mentions knocking up the reader.

an: this is a part of my college skz series SSFW where you can read one or all the stories. Each boys story weaves together but they can be read as ones shots.

read here

[moonlitstay]

[11:04 pm] the stuffed toy cat in minho's hands stares back at him, making his heart ache. no matter how hard he tried to forget about you, he still found traces of you throughout his life.

the stuffed toy cat you had won him on your first date.

hair ties scattered throughout his room.

letters you had left him.

all of it reminding him of the night he broke up with you. while tears streamed down your face, he had walked away.

now here he is sitting on his bed, with the ghost of your first date, feeling selfishly lonely.

it kills him when he remembers the words he had said to you at the end.

he's the one who hurt you.

he's the one who broke up with you.

so why does he miss you so much?

[3rachak]

📌: “Friends”

seo changbin × fem! Reader

Friends

Genre: smau | best friends to lovers??

Cw. Suggestive, fluff, implied sex, cursing, friends to lovers??

📌: Pt 1

I honestly didn't know how to give it an ending, because I didn't want to give it a closed ending hahaha, but I think this is where it ends. 🫢

It was just a vague idea that seemed like a good idea at first, I hope you enjoyed it 🫶🏻

taglist:

@strayzid

@marcillfll

[hwangsify]

L.MH. — THESE ILLICIT PLEASURES.

pairing. lee minho x gn reader

genre. angst, fluff, exes to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden relationship au, idol au

warnings. food, mentions of blood and child abuse (non-graphic), alcohol

summary. after ghosting you for four years, your childhood best friend lee minho comes back into your life as a world renowned idol, awakening some buried feelings you've spent four years trying to push away.

length. oneshot

word count. 13.3k+

taglist. @starlostseungmin @ilynaevis @luvhyun3 @dnadoublefelixx @seung-scrittore @jungwonize

a/n. if you enjoyed this fic, please reblog it. i genuinely could not give two fucks about likes, if you actually liked this fic then just reblog— it's really not that hard !! also, a big thank you to @hh0320 for being the world's best beta-reader. i seriously could not have done it without you &lt;3

i. the uncanny (en)counter.

After ghosting you for four years straight, Lee Minho comes back into your life like this. 

Your mom texts you when college spring break comes around, insisting that you come back home to Gimpo for the duration of it. You text her back complaining that you’d rather not spend your vacation at home when there are so many better places to be. She texts you that she’ll cook samgyetang for you when you come and you give in, because her samgyetang is just that delectable. 

So technically, all of this is kind of your mom’s fault. 

You board a train to Gimpo a few days later. An old lady with an atrocious haircut keeps on prattling away next to you, going on and on about her grandchildren (who you could not give two fucks about) and how long it’s been since she’s last seen them, but you manage to tune her out. Eventually, she gets the message and shuts up, which you’re grateful for because it gives you a chance to catch up on some much-needed sleep. 

You’ve gotten used to it, shutting people out when they get too close. You’ve learned to build walls, to hold yourself carefully. After all, you cannot afford to have what happened four years ago happen again. 

When you finally arrive, you find that it’s not so bad after all. Your hometown has hardly changed, even after so long, and you can’t help the nostalgia that clogs up your throat as you walk through the streets. 

Your mom greets you warmly when you knock on the door of her apartment. She hasn’t changed much, either, although there are a few more gray strands of hair in her bun and some new wrinkles around her eyes. 

“By the way,” she says, after the two of you have finished dinner. “Mrs. Lee has been wanting to see you recently. You should go visit her.”

Your fingers tighten instinctively around your mug of tea. Looking up, you glare at her. “Minho’s mom?” 

“Who else?’

Despite the bitter tang that fills your mouth at the very thought of Minho, you can’t help but love someone like his mom. You run a hand through your hair and sigh. “Today? I’m kind of tired.”

Your mom scowls at you and you give in before she bursts into complaints about how lazy you’ve been getting recently, quickly shrugging on a sweater and slipping on your shoes. “Fine, fine. I’ll go.” 

The apartment is only a few floors down from your own— you suspect that the fact that you shared apartment complexes with Minho back when you were younger played an important role in securing your friendship. You reach the apartment in a matter of minutes, stopping by the doormat to knock hesitantly. 

It’s been four years since you last stood by the doorway of this apartment. Just seeing it leaves a bad taste in your mouth, your mind fuzzing with memories you’d very much like to forget. You stand there for an awkward two minutes, waiting for the door to crack open, and just when you’re about to forget it and make your way back to your own apartment, the door opens.

Lee Minho stands in the doorway, clad in a pair of cat slippers. 

You do the first sensible thing you can think of. You choke on air and burst into a coughing fit. 

His eyes widen at the sight of you, lips parting in shock. You can’t help but return the sentiment, although you can’t nearly express it quite as well due to the fact that you’re doubled over, wheezing. 

You’re still recovering from your paroxysm of coughing when Minho speaks up, voice achingly familiar in your ears. 

“What are you doing here?” 

You cough again and glare at him, eyes watering. “I should be asking you the same question.” 

“I can’t even stay at my own mother’s apartment anymore?” 

You frown, reluctant to admit that he’s actually got a point. “My mom told me that your mom wanted me to come visit.” 

He lets out a barely audible sigh and stands back to fully open the door. “Well, come in, then.” 

You step into the apartment and can barely keep from gasping because everything is just exactly how you remember it. There’s an embarrassing baby photo of Minho with tears streaming down his cheeks hanging by the living room couch that you used to tease him about all the time, and a cat litterbox sitting in the corner of the kitchen. The nostalgia hits you before you can choke it down, and you suddenly feel almost regretful. 

Minho’s mom shuffles into the living room from the kitchen, an apron tied around her waist. Her eyes crinkle into a wide smile at the sight of you, stepping forward to take your hands in her own. “Y/N! I’m so glad to see you, it’s been so long.” 

Minho is silent from next to you, watching your exchange quietly. You tip your head forwards in greeting, squeezing her hands gently and attempting a smile, although it comes out more as a grimace. “It’s been a while.”

She laughs. Minho’s laugh has always paralleled her own, and your chest squeezes tightly at the sound. Her eyes light on Minho and she smiles at you again. “You must have been startled to see Minho here as well.” 

“Ah..” you say, trailing off. ‘Startled’ isn’t even remotely close to the feeling in your chest right now. “I guess so.” 

“It’s been a while. You and Minho must have a lot of things to catch up on,” she presses again, eyes flickering between you and Minho. 

Fuck, you think. She doesn’t know. 

She doesn’t know that you and Minho haven’t talked in years, doesn’t know that you haven’t even bothered keeping in touch. When Minho had received that email from JYP Entertainment inviting him to join that survival show, you had begged him not to go. 

What will I do, you had asked, without you? 

Because, you see, you had loved Minho once, maybe a little more than you should have. And you had naively and stupidly believed that Minho loved you back. 

Four years ago was back when you still believed in love, in making a wish before blowing out the candles and in the idea of soulmates. You and Minho had wholly and solely believed that the two of you were going to change the world back then— back when the two of you were young and stupid but also undeniably content with life and all it had to offer. 

Minho shattered that contentedness the day he broke the news to you. You remember the heat of your tears as they brimmed and spilled over, the way Minho’s face crumpled in guilt. 

But Minho had already made his decision the moment he set his eyes on the email. He left you anyway, despite your pleas. You were too angry to bother contacting him after that, and he was too stubborn to contact you. 

And that was the end of that. 

But Minho’s mom stares at you with such expectant eyes and you can’t bring yourself to break it to her. So instead, you smile and nod. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

Minho shifts uncomfortably from next to you and his mom quickly shuffles to the doorway to kick on her shoes, grinning at you with dancing eyes. “Well, I’ve got a few errands to run, so I’ll leave you two to it. I’ll be back in an hour.”

And then she’s gone, and it’s just you and Minho. 

Minho clears his throat and comes to sit on an armchair next to you. In the awkward silence that follows, you finally manage to get a good look at him. 

He’s still just as pretty as always, if not prettier. The same perfect nose, same high cheekbones. The same catlike eyes that you fell in love with so many years ago. There’s a tiredness that seems to have settled itself permanently into the pallor of his skin that wasn’t there before he left, though, and the baby fat has long since gone from his cheeks. 

But despite it all, he is still your Minho. And you despise the fact that you cannot find it in yourself to push him away— now that he is in front of you like this, even after all these years spent telling yourself that you would never forgive Lee Minho for what he did. 

The door cracks open and Soonie strolls in, tail held high as he makes his way leisurely to sit by the couch cushion next to you. He’s hardly changed as well, which you’re glad for. You’ve always liked Soonie, with his wide amber eyes and perpetually swaying tail. You hold out a hand for him to sniff, running your fingertips along his soft fur. Minho watches in silence, dark bangs falling over his eyes. 

He’s dyed his hair black again, you notice. It suits him a little too much. The aching in your chest only intensifies when you set your eyes on him, so you look away after a bit. But Minho keeps his eyes on you, observing you quietly as you stroke Soonie in silence, unable to unstick the words at the back of your throat threatening to spill out. 

You can already feel yourself building up your walls again, stacking them up high to obscurify yourself from Minho’s dark eyes. 

But your walls are made of sand and Minho is the ocean in all of its angry glory. And your walls crumble apart as the tide rolls in, leaving you on the shore, shivering, stripped bare before Minho, like an offering. You know this, because you’ve seen it happen a thousand times before when you were younger. You could hide all you want, you know, but Minho has always seen right through you— like glass. 

You look away from him before your eyes can betray you, before he can sense the wrath pooling deep within your gut or the longing oozing out of every pore within your body. Instead, you run your fingers through Soonie’s fur, who has settled into your lap and has been purring away like some kind of furry motor for the past 5 minutes. 

“I didn’t know you dyed your hair black again.”

Minho blinks at you for a moment before nodding. “I dyed it a few months ago.”

“Ah,” you say, venom seeping into your words before you can stop it. “Sorry. It’s been hard to keep track of all your hair colors since you left. I mean, how long has it been? Four years? Without as much as a fucking text, too.”

Minho doesn’t even seem surprised at your anger, just tired. He sighs. 

“I’ve been busy these past couple of years.”

“So busy that you couldn’t even spare enough time to send me one fucking message?” you sneer. “Save it. I don’t want to hear your pathetic excuses.”

You find that you’re curling in on yourself reflexively, building your walls as high as they can go. But Minho looks at you with quiet eyes and you just know that he’s knocking down your walls faster than you can build them up. He can see right through you, see the hurt brimming within your chest, and you have never hated anyone like you have hated him for it. 

“I’m not trying to excuse what I’ve done,” he says, almost gently. As if he were talking to a trapped animal. You’d rather he yell at you or something, anything but this. “I know it was wrong. But it’s true that I have been busy, especially these days.”

You shake your head, eyebrows furrowed as you stare down into your lap. It’s hard to be mad at someone who speaks to you in such a way. For a long moment, the two of you sit there quietly, Soonie’s purring reverberating through the room. 

“Why are you even here?” you say, finally. 

“Our promotions recently just ended so I’m on break right now,” Minho says. “I’ll only be in Gimpo for the next week or so, though.” 

You want to say something harsh, just to watch his face crumble in guilt, like the day he told you about the JYP email. But instead, what comes out is— 

“Have you visited Gimpo before since you left?” 

Minho shakes his head, although he doesn’t meet your eyes as he speaks. “I’ve been too busy.”

Which strikes you as odd because even idols do get breaks and vacations, enough time to at least visit their parents and have a homecooked meal for once. But you don’t mention it. Instead, you nod and thread your fingers through Soonie’s fur. 

Minho clears his throat. 

“Did you get into Seoul National University like you planned to?” 

Your lips curl into a reluctant smile as you nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Except I hate my major, you want to say, because I chose computer science just for you. Because I thought we’d get into the university together. But you didn’t go, so now I’m stuck in the most prestigious university in Korea with a major I couldn’t give two fucks about. 

“That’s good,” Minho says. “Seoul National University was always your dream college.”

You nod. And before yet another awkward silence can settle into the atmosphere, the door swings open and Minho’s mom steps in, carrying several grocery bags. She beams at the sight of the two of you sitting together. “Had fun catching up?”

Forcing a smile, you nod. She sets the grocery bags on the floor of the apartment and turns to grin at you. “Why don’t you stay for dinner? I bought lots of pork today— I can make samgyeopsal for you and Minho.”

And despite the very appetizing idea of samgyeopsal, you think that you might just combust if you spend any more time in Minho’s presence, so you shake your head. “My mom will probably be expecting me back by now. I should probably go. I had a great time, though.”

“Oh,” she says, regretfully. “Well, come back anytime! I’m sure Minho has missed you a lot.”

Minho hisses softly through his teeth, glaring at his mom from his armchair. She promptly ignores him as she smiles at you cheerfully. 

Slipping on your shoes, you nod and thank her, stepping out of the door before she can say anything else. 

When you enter your mom’s apartment, the first thing you do is glare balefully at your mom, who’s nursing a cup of green tea and observing you closely from behind her wire-rimmed glasses. 

“You knew Minho had come back!” you snap accusingly, tugging off your sweater to toss it haphazardly onto the living room couch. 

“Well, what was I supposed to do?” she demands. “It was the perfect opportunity for the two of you to finally make up.”

“Me and Minho are never making up,” you say, decisively. “I can’t forgive him for what he did.”

“Well, you should at least try,” she declares, firmly. “I set up reservations for a cat café. You and Minho should go together.”

You open your mouth to inform her that she’s probably gone insane because there’s no way you’ll ever go to a cat café with Lee Minho after everything that he’s done but she cuts you off, smiling. “I already texted Minho’s mom about it. She thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Minho’s never going to agree,” you protest, eyes narrowed. Her smile widens. 

“Oh, but Minho did agree. He said that he wouldn’t mind,” she counters triumphantly. “So you really have no excuse.”

You suddenly regret ever boarding the train to Gimpo in the first place. 

ii. the morning after. 

When Minho arrives at your apartment at 9 am sharp, clad in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, you almost cancel on him altogether as the sudden weight of what you’re about to do hits you like a ton of bricks. 

Here you are, standing in front of Lee Minho himself after all these years, preparing to go to some cat café with him just because your mom insisted. 

It’s just a little insane. 

You’re about to open your mouth to tell him that maybe going to this cat café might not be the best idea after all, but your mom pushes you out of the door before you can utter a word, pointedly ignoring the way you glower at her. 

“Have fun at the café!” she grins. “Don’t come back home until dinner time!” 

And then she slams the door and you find yourself, for the second time in two days, left alone with Lee Minho. 

Sighing, you turn to face him. 

“Let’s get this over with,” you say, with a touch of resent in your voice. “Hopefully we won’t ever have to see each other again after this.” 

Minho says nothing, just tips his head towards you in silent assent, dark eyes meeting your own evenly. 

iii. of cats and iced americanos. 

The café proves to be not so bad after all. 

Minho keeps a baseball cap slung low over his eyes as you step into the shop, careful to conceal his identity. You marvel at how easily he blends into the background like this, his face obscured almost entirely beneath his cap and face mask. The people barely spare him a glance as he brushes past them, not one of them suspecting that he could possibly be Lee Minho, world renowned idol whose recent album just topped Billboard. 

A waitress escorts you into a secluded room, where the two of you come to sit down by a rounded table. The cats arrive shortly afterwards, slipping into the room with their swaying tails and feline eyes. Minho lights up at the sight of them, crouching down to run his fingers through their hair and scratch behind their ears. 

You sip your iced americano in silence and watch as he softens, observing how easily he unravels as a striped tabby comes to brush itself against his legs, purring loudly. A Siamese cat situates itself in your lap, a warm weight against your legs, and you allow it to run its rough tongue along your bare forearm. 

Eventually, when Minho has had enough of sitting on the floor, he comes to sit on the seat adjacent to your own. You observe him leisurely as he sweeps a hand through his hair, pushing his bangs away from his forehead, only for them to fall into his eyes yet again. 

You could stare at Minho like this for forever, you think. Despite your anger, you could never get tired of studying his face. He’s always been exceptionally pretty, and he’s grown up well these past four years. 

Maybe he’d be easier to hate if he didn’t look like some fucking god all the damn time, with his long eyelashes and finely-cut nose. 

You clear your throat. 

“How is it?” 

He turns to glance at you, frowning. “How is what?” 

“Being an idol. What’s it like?” 

You can’t say that you aren’t curious. You’ve never felt compelled to become an idol, the entire idea being rather unappealing to you, but you can’t help but wonder how it must feel to have a hundred thousand doting fans scattered all across the globe, practically rabid with their adoration for you. 

Minho tilts his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. A silence settles through the room as he contemplates your question. 

“It’s fucked up and incredible all at once,” he says after a long moment. “It’s kind of hard to describe in words. But there are moments that I’d gladly relive a hundred times over, and there are moments that I’d do anything to forget.” 

You run a finger through the condensation of your glass of iced americano, considering his answer. 

“I like my members a lot, though,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. “I didn’t think I’d like them too much when I first met them, but they’ve grown on me.”

Something fills his eyes at the very mention of his members, a prominent sheen of fondness spilling into his irises, and you feel your stomach twist itself into knots. You know this gaze, have seen it a thousand times before, because Minho used to look at you the same way four years ago. You swallow down the bitter bile that rises up in your throat and turn to glance at him. 

“Your members sound nice,” you say, although you don’t really mean it. You’ve seen them at least a hundred times by now on TV, and you cannot help the envy that fills your mouth every single time at the sight of them. You know it’s not their fault, but you can’t help but blame them for Minho’s leaving. A small, childish part of you desperately wants to believe this; that they took Minho away from you— just to have someone to blame. 

Minho lets out a small laugh and your heart clenches like a fist within your ribcage. 

God, you think, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard him laugh like this. 

“They’re like family to me,” he says, eyes soft. And resentment seeps deep into your skin at the warmth that laces his voice. 

You have seen enough. Physically unable to hold Minho’s gaze, you drop your eyes down to your lap. The Siamese cat left a few minutes ago; your legs feel chilly now that they are absent of the Siamese’s soft warmth. 

“Did you miss Gimpo?” you ask, not meeting his eyes. 

You both know that you don’t quite mean the question, not entirely. That there is another question laced beneath this one, one that you can’t quite bring yourself to ask. 

Did you miss me? 

Minho glances at you, although you’re still staring down at your lap. The heat of his gaze bores into you as he considers you, eyes heavy. Finally, after a long silence—

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I’ve missed Gimpo a lot. There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t thought of it.”

Minho’s voice is quiet as he speaks, barely audible despite the muted atmosphere of the room. He speaks casually, feigning indifference, dark bangs falling into his even darker eyes, iced americano lying abandoned in front of him.

And it is enough for you. 

Something within you gives way, softens underneath Minho’s gaze. The realization comes to you easily, almost gently, as if you had known all along. The same realization that you’ve spent years in denial of, burying it deep underneath your anger and regret. But it resurfaces the moment Minho admits that he’s missed you, and refuses to be buried once more. 

You’ve missed him, too. 

Minho observes you quietly, watches as your resilience crumbles into sand. 

He says nothing. The air smells of stale coffee grounds. 

iv. the fall.

Minho texts you for the first time in four years the next day. You stare at your phone in a mixture of shock and disbelief, the screen unbearingly bright against your eyes. 

[11:34 am] minho: do u want to come over? i’m making kimchi jjigae. 

You’re not quite sure what warranted this invitation. But you don’t have anything else to do, and you’ve warmed up considerably to Minho these past few days. The idea isn’t as repulsive to you as it might have been two days ago. 

Besides, you enjoy his company. More than you’d like to admit. 

[11:36 am] i’ll be there in 5 mins

You arrive at his apartment shortly. Minho tips his head towards you in a silent greeting as you slip into the apartment, a plaid apron tied around his waist as he hovers over the stove. You come to stand next to him, peering over his shoulder. 

“Didn’t know you could cook.”

Minho shrugs. “I only started a year ago or so. I got tired of ordering takeout all the time since my members can’t cook to save their lives.”

You glance around the kitchen. “Is your mom home?”

Minho shakes his head. “She said something about her crocheting class.”

You nod and lean back, perching on the kitchen countertop, observing Minho’s broad shoulders as he cooks. Minho turns to glance at you, eyes bright with amusement. “Is the fact that you accepted my invitation to come over a sign that you’ve finally forgiven me?” 

Your lips tug up into a half smile. 

“Absolutely not. You’re still the world’s biggest asshole for leaving me,” you say, watching silently as Minho puts the last finishing touches to the soup. He smiles and comes to stand directly in front of you, so close that you can see the faint scar next to his eyebrow. He used to complain about the scar all the time when he was younger, joking that it ruined his good looks. Four years later, you can hardly even see it at all— just a faint white line by his eyebrow. 

Something shifts between the two of you, the atmosphere tensing and thickening until you can hardly even bring yourself to breathe. 

“Is that so?” he asks, eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins.

You tell your heart to stop flopping around inside your chest like a fish as he leans in closer and nod. 

“Sorry,” he breathes. “I’ll make it up to you.”

And then you’re kissing. 

Kissing, and Minho is gripping your waist with a gentle hand, his nose brushing against your cheek. Your body responds to his touch faster than your brain does and you find yourself melting into him, pulling him closer and running a hand through his dark locks of hair. 

You shouldn’t be doing this, you think. You shouldn’t be kissing Lee Minho, world renowned idol slash professional dancer slash ex best friend on his mom’s kitchen countertop. But it’s been so long since you’ve had him like this and you can’t resist it. 

The anger within you ignites again the moment your lips meet, consuming you wholly in its blaze. 

You want to devour him whole, to take and take and take until he has nothing left to give you. Minho hums against your lips and you are so greedy— all teeth and heated lips, demanding and begging him for more. 

Everything that you have kept within your walls for the past four years spills out of you. 

You want to have all of him, down to the faint scar that sits by his left eyebrow. You want him to run his fingers across the cracks of your misshapen heart, to take you in with all your bruises and flaws. 

Look, Lee Minho, for this is how you break a heart. Look at the destruction you have left in your wake, the hairline fractures that run along the flesh of my heart. Look, for you shattered me into a million pieces the day you left, and it was I who pieced myself back together again.

Look, Lee Minho, for you left me in Gimpo as a mere shell of a being, a husk of flesh and bone, and I have molded myself back into the shape of a human once more. 

You pull Minho closer into the kiss, lips slick with your own greed. 

The soup starts smoking before you can bother doing anything else. The two of you practically jump apart, flushed and panting. Minho’s ears color red as he quickly turns away from you to tend to the stew, lifting it off the stove and placing the steaming pot on the countertop. Clearing his throat, he spares a quick glance your way. “The soup’s ready.” 

You nod distractedly, hopping off the countertop to sit by the dining table. Minho slides a warm bowl of soup in front of you, face completely passive of any emotion as if the two of you weren’t making out a few minutes ago. You poke at the stew skeptically, doubtful of his cooking skills. 

Minho catches the suspicion in your eyes and lets out a laugh. “Don’t worry. It’s edible.”

The stew proves to be more than just edible when you finally take a sip. Minho grins as you nod approvingly at the rich saltiness of the soup, almost smug. “Good?” 

You nod. “Better than I expected from you, at least.” 

Minho scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“You always underestimated me. Even when we were younger.” 

You widen your eyes in mock protest. “When did I ever? I always had the highest confidence in your abilities.” 

“Right,” he grins. “Just like that time you predicted I’d get a 73 on my physics exam and I ended up getting a 97, right?” 

Exhaling softly, you swallow hard. Even after four years, you still remember everything in perfect detail. After Minho left, you treated every memory you ever made with him with utmost care, placing them in glass jars and setting them high in the shelves of your heart, where forgetfulness would not be able to reach them. Now that he’s finally come home, it’s as if he took every jar and smashed it to pieces, releasing a torrent of memories in his wake. 

Minho laughing on your seventh birthday, blue frosting smudged on the corners of his lips from the cheap grocery store cake your mother bought you. Minho kicking your leg from underneath the desk during chemistry class, lips quirking up in a grin when you turn to glare at him. Minho running a finger along the bruise decorating your cheek when you show up at his apartment, cheeks wet with tears after your father came back home drunk again. 

You swallow again, as if you could choke down the memories if you tried hard enough, dissolving them in the acid of your stomach. Minho peers at you with worried eyes. “You okay?” 

You are about to brush him off with a dismissive grin like you have an innumerable amount of times with others, before you remember that this is Minho. Minho, who has always been able to see right through you, who can read you at a glance, knocking down your walls with those dark eyes of his before you can put them back up again. Minho, who would never buy into your little white lies and halfhearted smiles. 

So you tell him the truth. 

“Just thinking about what we used to be,” you say. 

Minho drops his gaze down to his lap in understanding and before you can stop yourself—

“Why did you do it?” you ask, voice coming out smaller than you intended it to be. “Why did you still leave, even after everything I said?” 

You watch as Minho’s eyes darken at your question, lips curving downwards in a slight frown. You wait for his answer in silence, breath caught in your throat in anticipation, although you never know what to expect with someone like Minho. 

“I had to get away from him,” he finally says, after a long pause. 

“Who?”

“My dad. I had to get away from him.”

Oh.

Because you know of Minho’s dad and how he is, of the dementia pills that sit by his empty bedside and of the hardness that fills Minho’s eyes at the very mention of his father. And for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, because you have never felt so guilty in your entire life. Minho clenches and unclenches his hands into fists, knuckles painted white. 

“I thought I could handle it, you know,” he says, without looking at you. “I thought I could handle his.. episodes. When I was younger, they weren’t too bad— just scary. He’d mistake me for one of his childhood friends or his younger brother and start acting all weird and my mom would help calm him down. But he kept on getting worse as I got older and the doctor didn’t know what else to prescribe him so they just told my mom and I to keep a close eye on him and— fuck, it’s still so hard to think about.”

He swallows hard. 

“I came back home from dance practice one night and my dad was cutting up lettuce for dinner and he just started freaking out when I stepped into the house, yelling at me to get out— I think he thought I was his dad or something. And I didn’t know what to do because my mom had gone out and we had just ran out of his pills, and he kept on trying to stab me with the knife and— God, it was so fucking terrifying. He ended up nicking my wrist pretty badly— by the time my mom came back home there was blood splattered all over the kitchen floor, although everything ended up turning out okay. But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, you know? Like, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that I was coexisting in the same home with someone who had just tried to kill me.”

You don’t know what to say as you stare at him, breathless. He shakes his head. “It got so bad that he had to get hospitalized, eventually. And even then, he kept on mistaking me for his father. Like, he’d be all hooked up on all these machines and IV drips and the moment I’d come in he’d just start screaming at me to get out until the nurses rushed in to tranquilize him. And I just remember standing by his bedside, watching as the nurses stuck a bunch of syringes into his wrists to pump at least 13 different sedatives into his system, wanting nothing more than for him to die.” 

Minho lets out a sharp exhale, running a hand through his dark locks of hair. “I couldn’t handle it, afterwards. I felt so guilty all the fucking time for wanting my own fucking father to die and I couldn’t imagine what my mom would think if she ever found out and— I had to get away. So when JYP sent me that email, I jumped at the opportunity.” 

You open your mouth to say something— anything, really, although you doubt it’ll be much of a consolation to Minho, but he glares at you before you can say a word. 

“Don’t. You’ve never been good at comforting.”

So you don’t. Instead, you turn to stare at him, your mouth a hard line of resentment. “Why didn’t you at least tell me? All this time, I thought it was because you grew tired of me or something. You could have at least told me you left because of your dad.” 

Minho sighs. 

“I never thought you’d ever think of it that way,” he admits. “Besides, it was pathetic to tell you that I left just because of my sick dad.” 

You smile ruefully, and think about your own dad, with his cracked beer bottles and bloodshot eyes. “You’re not the only one with an asshole for a dad, you know.” 

“He wasn’t an asshole,” Minho says. “He was just sick. Very, very sick. He died a few months after I left. I couldn’t even bring myself to attend his fucking funeral, even though my mom begged like crazy.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t know, maybe things would have turned out differently if my dad wasn’t so messed up.”

You trace your finger along the rim of your bowl, lips curling into a smile. “Maybe you would have stayed here in Gimpo. With me.” 

Minho looks up from his soup to gaze at you, dark eyes soft. 

“I never wanted to leave you behind, you know. You were the world to me.” 

It’s unlike Minho to be so straightforward about his fondness. You study him, taking him in critically. Everything about him is so achingly familiar and foreign at the same time that it hurts to look at him. “But you hated your dad enough to leave your world behind, huh?” 

Minho leans forward, tipping his head towards your own. For a moment, the two of you consider each other, eyes heavy, breaths hitching in your throats. 

“I said I’m sorry already,” Minho says, lips curled into a wry smile. “What more do you want from me?” 

You tilt your head to the side, grinning. “I can think of a lot of things, actually.” 

And then you find yourself kissing your ex best friend for the second time since this morning. 

v. the deal. 

Later, when you are sprawled out in a mess of tangled limbs across the couch, breathless and panting, lips swollen from your exertions, Minho turns to gaze at you. You meet his eyes sluggishly, half-asleep in his arms.

“What is it?” 

Minho swallows, reaching up a hand to sweep back his bangs. “We can continue this, if you want.” 

You frown. “Continue what?” 

He gestures vaguely with his hands at your intertwined limbs. “Whatever this is. We can continue it, if you want to. It doesn’t have to be dating.” 

You feel your eyebrows knitting together. You had thought all of this would be a one-time thing, that Minho would disappear without a trace after his week in Gimpo ended. Now fully awake, you turn to stare at him. 

“You’re an idol,” you deadpan.

Minho lifts up a shoulder to rest more comfortably against the couch, arms tightening around your waist. “So?” 

“Do you have any idea what would happen if we were found out?” 

“Like I said, it doesn’t have to be dating.” 

You laugh shortly, although you don’t find all of this funny at the slightest. “Do you think it would look like that to your fans?” 

“We’ll be careful, then. No one has to know.” 

You sit up, untangling his arms from your waist. Minho watches you with indolent eyes, hair splayed out in a halo against the couch cushion. 

“One thing I don’t understand, though,” you say, frowning. “Why me?” 

Because Minho could quite literally have anyone he wanted, with his good looks and fame. Because just a few days ago, he went trending all over Twitter over a fucking fancam. Because Lee Minho lives so vividly, is so vibrant and colorful in everything that he does, especially compared to your own monochrome palette. And a small part of you wonders what he could possibly see in someone as mundane as you. 

He swallows, suddenly serious. “It’s so easy to be with you,” he says. “Maybe it’s just because we’ve known each other for such a long time, but it’s nice to spend time with you.” 

He watches as you consider him, eyes narrowed. 

“Think of it as stress relief,” he proposes, sensing your confusion. “That’s kind of how it feels. It’s hardly been three days, but this is the most relaxed I’ve been in a while.” 

Rationally speaking, the entire deal is bullshit. You know that a proposal like this one could only end badly, and Minho is too smart to not know as well. But both of you have missed each other a little too much over the years, and rationality has been thrown out the window ever since Minho kissed you on the kitchen countertop. 

So you wrap your arms around him and press your lips to his collarbone. Minho brushes his nose against the crown of your hair in a strangely affectionate gesture and you feel yourself shiver with delight, at the thrill of this entire affair. 

“Okay,” you say. “Stress relief.” 

vi. before the coffee gets cold.

Like this, the days pass in a blur. Everything happens a little too fast for your liking, and in the midst of Minho laughing because you accidentally tripped and fell on your ass in the middle of the ice skating rink and your mom ducking her head to hide a knowing a smile when you come home late after a long day at the amusement park with Minho, you faintly register that this is the happiest you’ve ever been in a very long time. 

The four days Minho had left at Gimpo faded away as quickly as they’d come and soon enough, you found yourself sitting next to him by the dining table of your apartment, a mug of coffee clutched in your hands, a mere thirty minutes before Minho was to leave for the airport to return to Seoul. 

Minho watches as you stir cream into your coffee, eyes trained down to the dull beige of your latte. 

“I’ll come back again, you know,” he says, voice soft. 

“You better,” you say, half jokingly, although your voice is devoid of any humor. “I’ll post your predebut pictures online if you don’t.” 

You both know that it’s an empty threat, but Minho feigns annoyance anyway. “The ones you took back when I had a terrible case of acne?” 

You feel your lips twist into a grin as Minho narrows his eyes menacingly. Before the two of you can launch into another one of your petty bickerings, you suddenly remember the gift you ordered off of Amazon a few days ago. 

“Oh, right,” you say, reaching behind you to pull out a box. “I got this for you. As a farewell present.” 

Minho lifts his eyebrows. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.” 

You shrug and gesture for him to open it. 

It’s a cat airpod case, the last one in stock. You had spent the better part of your shitty college wages to buy it, thinking it would be worth it just to see Minho’s face split into a grin at the sight of the airpod case. But now, as Minho cracks open the box to take the case into his hands, you all of a sudden regret ever buying the fucking present in the first place.

Because after all, this is Lee Minho. Who probably has a filthy rich net worth, judging from the Internet estimates, at least, and a million seller album despite the fact that it was only released a few weeks ago. Compared to him, your present seems trivial and insignificant. 

Minho examines your gift closely, eyes scrutinizing. And just as you’re about to snatch the case out of his hands, telling him to forget it, that it was just a joke, anyway, Minho reaches into his pocket to pull out his Airpods, fitting them neatly into the case. 

“I can finally stop worrying about losing my Airpods, now,” is all he says as he turns the case in his hands. 

You feel your chest swell as he grins at you, your lips tugging into a smile to mirror his own. Leaning forward, you reach out to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. “Maybe I can visit you sometime in Seoul. My university isn’t too far away from JYP.” 

Minho nods, leaning into your touch.  “I’d like that.” 

And then you watch as he stands up to leave, watch as he brushes off his jeans and shoulders his backpack, tugging a suitcase along with him. Everything is a little too familiar, a little too similar to how he left four years ago. Minho turns back to you at the doorway and touches his lips to your forehead, wrapping his arms around you. 

“I think I developed abandonment issues because of you,” you say. 

Minho laughs, a faraway sound in your ears. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I’ll come back this time, promise.” 

And then he’s gone. 

When you walk back to the dining table, a hundred years older, you find that your coffee has already gone cold. 

vii. after dark. 

The next time you meet Lee Minho is in the privacy of his own apartment. Minho is the one who first proposes it, a few months after he leaves for Seoul. By then, your spring break had long since ended, and you are back to your usual grind at your university. 

He texts you in the middle of organic biology class, your phone chiming embarrassingly loudly throughout the room. Your professor turns to glare at you over her half-moon glasses as the students collectively turn around from their desks to stare. 

“You know my policy about phones in class,” your professor reprimands. 

You mumble out an apology, cheeks red. The students slowly turn their attention back to the professor as she resumes explaining properties of lipids, and you seize the opportunity to quickly check the text. 

[9:52 am] minho: u should come over to my apartment

It’s a little too in character for Minho to text you something like this with zero context at all, so you don’t question it. You’re about to ask him how the fuck you’re supposed to know where his apartment is in the first place when he sends you his address. 

Holding your phone beneath your desk to keep it from your professor’s prying eyes, you carefully type out a message. 

[9:54 am] i have class

Minho responds almost immediately. 

[9:54 am] minho: come after class then. i can wait

So you do. You arrive at his apartment shortly after dark, when you should have been working on an overdue paper that you’ve been procrastinating on for a week by now. Minho’s eyes light up when he tugs open the door, lips tugging into a smile. 

His hair is purple now. There are dark circles under his eyes, a gray weariness settled deep into his skin. Stepping forward, you wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his chest tremble and then deflate as he exhales, sinking into your touch. 

“Sorry I took so long,” you say. Minho hums into your shoulder in a wordless acknowledgement of your apology, voice muffled. Detangling your intertwined arms, he takes a step back to study you. For a moment, the two of you drink each other in before Minho tugs you into the apartment. 

The moment you step into the apartment, you let out an exhale of air you didn’t know you were holding. Everything about his place is so undeniably Minho that it aches to observe it all. The cat clock hanging by the living room couch, the familiar scent of coffee that hangs heavy in the air. Minho watches you carefully as you take it all in. “Do you like it?” 

You avoid the question. 

“I thought you lived in the dorms with the other members.” 

“We moved out a few months ago,” Minho says. “JYP finally expanded our budget, and we thought it would be nice to have our own spaces. They still come over all the time though, or I go over to their places.” 

You nod wordlessly. The cat airpod case you gifted him a few months back is lying by the coffee table. Grinning, you pick it up, running a thumb along its top ridge. “You still have this?” 

Minho laughs. “Why? Do you want it back?” 

You shake your head, smiling. Something about the fact that he kept the airpod case even after all this time is terribly endearing to you, although you’d never admit it out loud. 

Minho shuffles into the kitchen, scrubbing a hand over his face wearily as he picks up a spatula. “Are you hungry? Should I cook something?” 

You hesitate, frowning as you observe Minho’s evident exhaustion. “Maybe I should cook instead?” 

Minho narrows his eyes skeptically. 

“Can you even cook?” 

You roll your eyes, stepping forward to yank the spatula out of Minho’s hands. “Of course I can cook.” 

(Which is a lie.) 

Yanking open his refrigerator, you take out a carton of eggs and a jar of kimchi. Minho hovers over your shoulder, hot breath ghosting over your neck as he speaks. “What are you making?” 

Brandishing a knife you just pulled out from his knife block, you flip open the carton of eggs to pull out a few. “Kimchi fried rice.” 

Minho lets out a derisive snort from behind you, evidently doubtful of your cuisine skills, causing you to turn around and glare at him. 

“Can you at least be more supportive? I’m trying to do you a favor here.” 

Minho nudges the bowl of eggs you just finished cracking, their yellow yolks jiggling as he pokes at it. “You got bits of shell stuck in the egg whites.” 

Hissing through your teeth, you pull out a pair of chopsticks to fish out the pieces of egg shell. Minho sighs. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to let me cook, you know. We both know I’m the superior chef between the two of us.” 

Snapping at him to shut up, you pull out a frying pan and proceed to make the worst dish of kimchi fried rice ever made in Korea. In the middle of preparing the kimchi, the eggs start to smoke. Minho yells at you over the din of the smoke alarm to turn off the fire as you dart around the kitchen, attempting to salvage the damage. Eventually, after about thirty minutes of chaos, you finally manage to quiet things down again and you and Minho sit down to a very poorly cooked dinner. 

Minho pokes at the rice tentatively with his chopsticks. The eggs are burnt to crisp and the rice is scorched black. In an attempt to make the dish a little more appetizing, you dumped chili paste all over the kimchi, overly-seasoning the rice in the process. 

Bracing yourself, you take a bite of the rice. It tastes exactly how it looks, burnt and blackened. Minho watches you as you chew. “Does it taste okay?” 

You resist the urge to throw up your mouthful of rice all over the dining table. Swallowing with some difficulty, you manage a pained grin. “It tastes great.” 

Minho tries a mouthful of rice and promptly gags the moment it hits his tongue. Staggering to the kitchen, he retches straight into the trashcan, eyes watering. You glare at him as he makes his way back to the table. 

“It wasn’t that bad.” 

Minho shakes his head. “I should sue you for food poisoning. Even Changbin isn’t this bad at cooking.” 

For a brief moment, the two of you sit in defeated silence, mourning the waste of perfectly good rice and kimchi. You’d argue more with him in defense of your cooking skills, but even you can’t bring yourself to stomach another mouthful of rice, which is saying something. Finally, Minho speaks up. 

“Do you want to just get Chinese takeout instead?” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Let’s do that.” 

The takeout arrives half an hour later, a banquet of Peking duck and Mapo tofu. The two of you dig in enthusiastically, having eaten nothing but burnt fried rice since this evening. 

By the time you have eaten yourselves sick, your stomachs full and sated, the moon hangs high in the sky. Minho rests with his head on your shoulder, half asleep as the two of you watch some Netflix show that neither of you could give two fucks about. 

Minho’s eyes are half-shut when you glance down at him from the TV screen, eyes heavy-lidded with sleep. You touch a finger to the ridge of his cheekbone, his skin warm beneath your fingertips. You run your finger along a scar against his temple, barely visible in the dimly lit room. Minho’s eyebrows knit together as you barely graze the scar with your fingertips, but he leans ever so slightly into your touch anyway. 

“What’s this from?” you ask. 

Minho’s eyes flutter open, his hand coming up to touch the scar. “Oh, this?” 

Something in his voice. Fractured glass, crumbling sandcastles. 

You glance at him, perplexed, and Minho breaks your gaze, glancing down until all you can see is his long eyelashes.

“My dad,” he says as an explanation, voice impossibly small. “I visited at the hospital a few days before I left and he went completely berserk, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me, yelling all this shit. He slammed my head into the cardiac monitor before the nurses could sedate him.” 

There is nothing left to say. Pressing his lips into a tight line, he goes silent. You gaze down at the boy pressed to your side, observing the weariness in the pallor of his skin and the slight downturn of his lips, and know that if you could, you would gladly give the world to see him happy. 

You run your finger along the scar once more. And maybe if you were dating instead of just messing around, you’d lean down and press your lips to his temple, right where his scar was. You’d take the pain in Minho’s eyes and cradle it gently to your chest, hold him as he trembled and tensed beneath your touch. But you aren’t dating, and there are walls of sand standing between the two of you. And you know that you can only stand within a certain proximity of Minho before things become dangerous, lines blurring and softening. So you drop your hand from his temple to place it in your lap and glance back to the drama. 

Next to you, Minho lets out a barely audible sigh. You are both tired of this, although you cannot bear to say it out loud. 

viii. as the lines blur. 

Minho proves to be remarkably adept at making up excuses to come and see you. 

He texts you the next day as you’re making your way back home that you left your hoodie at his place, before texting you some Korean BBQ restaurant to meet up at just so he can “return your hoodie.” You don’t bother telling him that you didn’t even bother wearing a hoodie yesterday in the first place, just because you want to see him just as badly. 

 “Where’s my hoodie?” you ask as you seat yourself next to Minho, lips curled into a wry smile. Minho grins at you from behind his mask, eyes crinkling. 

“I guess I forgot to bring it.” 

A few weeks later, Minho calls you to say that he made too much jjajangmyeon and needs someone to help him finish it. 

“I’m sure your members would be more than happy to help you eat it,” you say through the phone, grinning. 

He laughs. “Most of them don’t like jjajangmyeon.” 

You know that this is a dangerous game the two of you play, this loving in the dark. You’ve long stopped believing in happy endings, not after everything you’ve seen. But you have already lost Minho once, and you cannot bear to lose him again. 

This is the happiest you’ve been in forever, and despite the barriers between the two of you, it is enough to pretend that everything is as real as it seems. 

You see it in his eyes too, when he finally takes off his cap as he steps into the apartment, hair messy. When he adjusts his mask over his nose as the two of you pass by a group of girls, ducking his head down to cover his features. There is a weariness in his eyes that filters through him no matter how many times he covers it with a grin, a sort of simmering anger burning behind the dark depths of his pupils.

You would show Minho to the world if you could, whispering to them to look. The way his laughter is jagged at the edges when he is the happiest, though it is never like this on camera, where his laugh is always pretty and clipped. The dark circles beneath his eyes, although they have never seen him so before, for they are always covered in layers of makeup. 

For this is what it means to love someone: to take in all their flaws and blemishes and hold them closer for it all. 

ix. crumbling sandcastles.

This is how it all ends. 

You walk back home from college one day, arguing with Minho via text about the legitimacy of mint chocolate ice cream. You’ve been seeing each other more often recently, coming up with random alibis to meet up. You can’t say that you regret it. 

Just as you’re about to enter your apartment complex, you hear your name. Turning around slowly, you find yourself staring directly at Bang Chan, the leader of Stray Kids. After Minho’s insistence, you learned the names of his other members and even watched a few of their music videos, and you find that you are able to recognize Chan in an instant. 

You jump back, startled, before hastily dipping your head forward in a bow. Chan mirrors you, bowing politely, before flashing you a tight smile.

“I’m sorry. You’re Y/N, right?” he says. “Do you have a minute? Maybe we can stop by a café or..” 

“You’re Bang Chan of Stray Kids,” you say, incredulous. 

Chan nods sheepishly, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah. I am.” 

“What are you even doing here? Don’t you have schedules or something?” 

You know you don’t sound exactly friendly, but really, you’re in such a state of shock that you physically seem unable to remember your manners. Chan lets out a short laugh. “I was hoping to meet you sometime. Minho’s told me a lot about you.” 

You flush at this, wondering what it exactly was that Minho said about you, and nod. “Sure. I have a minute.” 

So Chan takes you to a local park that he seems to be fond of, sitting adjacent to you on a rusty picnic table. You sit straight, staring at him expectantly. “So. What did you want to talk to me about?” 

Chan presses his lips into a firm line and sloshes the coffee in his paper cup. Finally, after a long moment, he looks up. There is no longer any trace of faux chivalry in his expression, only a firm resoluteness and beneath that, a dark worry. “I came to ask you if dating Minho is really a good idea,” he says, quietly. 

“We aren’t dating,” you say automatically, because this is what you have drilled into your head countless times these past few months. You had thought that if you kept your distance from Minho, refraining from dating, it would be easier to bear if he ever had to leave again. 

Chan raises his eyebrows. “Really? That’s not how Minho made it seem.” 

“I know it sounds like we are,” you say quickly. “But we reached a mutual agreement that we’d just mess around. You know, nothing official.” 

Chan nods slowly, although he still looks just as confused. “But I mean, if your relationship ever gets leaked, no one will ever see you two that way.” 

“I know,” you say. “We’ve been careful.” 

“Careful,” Chan echoes, and lets out a harsh laugh. You jump at the sound, cringing at the way it grates against your ears. He gives a dismissive shake of his head, smiling, although it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“That’s what they all say,” he says. “But they all got found out in the end, anyway.” 

“Minho and I aren’t like that,” you protest, although your argument sounds weak and distant in your ears. “Our relationship is more… detached.” 

This is a lie so blatant that you resist the urge to wince. 

Chan grimaces, taking a sip of his coffee. “I know I can’t do anything to stop the two of you, and if you two decide to continue whatever you have going on, it’s your choice. But I just wanted to say this.” 

You inhale, preparing to put your walls up already. Chan’s eyes are as dark as ink as he gazes at you, bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

“My members have come a long way to get to where we are today. I can’t risk having a single member ruin this all for us. To have a dating scandal right at the peak of our careers as of right now— it’ll ruin us.” 

There is a sense of finality in his words as he speaks. You meet his gaze quietly, unflinchingly, because that’s what you’ve always done— looked pain in the face and pretended that you were unafraid, even if you were barely holding together at the seams. 

“If the two of you ever get found out,” Chan says lowly. “I won’t hesitate to cut Minho off from the group. If it comes between saving the entire group or just one member, I will always choose my members.” 

He turns to go, standing up to brush off his jeans. He meets your eyes one last time as he reaches out to grab his half-empty coffee cup. “I hope you remember this when your names are all over Dispatch.” 

You lean back, feigning nonchalance although your hands are shaking so badly you can barely hold yourself up. “A bit selfish, don’t you think? Allowing one member to take the brunt of the fall just to save your reputation?” 

Chan’s eyes harden. 

“I think I deserve to be a little selfish,” he snaps. “I’ve spent the past twelve years worrying after others, fulfilling their every request.” 

Scrubbing a hand over his face, his chest deflates in a sigh. “I’m fucking tired.” 

And if you were braver, maybe you would grab his wrist before he turned to go to argue some more. But staring at this man, with his dark eye bags and bleached locks of hair, a strong sense of pity fills the cavity of your chest. 

He is tired of this too, maybe even more than you are. 

So you let him go. And after he’s long since disappeared, you gather up your things and make your way to your apartment, head underwater. 

x. how fairytales end.

You were four when your father came home drunk for the first time, nothing but slurred words and reeking breath. A shell of what he once was. Seven when your father slapped you across the face for the first time, just a flash of a calloused hand as it came down hard against your right cheek. Thirteen when he disappeared for good, leaving behind only the reek of beer and a collection of memories that you’d be more than happy to forget. 

Happy endings cannot possibly exist in a world like your own. 

This is what you tell yourself as you dial Minho’s phone number, what you drill into your head as the phone rings. You think about Minho with his dark eyes and jagged laugh, about how easily he elicits smiles out of you, about how he can read you at a glance. 

You think about what it means to love someone. 

Minho picks up on the third ring, his voice achingly familiar, even through the phone. “Hello?” 

“Minho,” you whisper. 

Minho picks up the note of fear in your voice before you can bury it under a facade of nonchalance. 

“What’s wrong?” he demands. You can practically hear his frown. “Did something happen?” 

You lean your head against the back of your couch, holding the phone so close to your cheek that it digs into your flesh. “Let’s end this.” 

The laugh Minho lets out comes out all wrong, half-strangled with not a trace of humor. “End what?” 

“You know what I mean. Do I have to spell it out for you?” 

A long silence. You run a finger along the waterlines of your eyes to brush away any gathering tears, but find that your eyes are dry. Maybe you’ve been preparing for this moment all along, knowing that there would be an end to all this drunken euphoria eventually. When Minho finally speaks, there is a desperation laced in his voice, one that he hasn’t bothered to mask. 

“Can I come over?” 

You are silent, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Minho tries again. 

“Please. Let me come over. Just once.” 

“Okay,” you say. “Just once.” 

xi. as the curtains draw.

Minho arrives at your apartment in record time, breathless. He reaches out to touch you when you open up the door, a hand coming up to brush against your cheek. You lean into his touch almost by instinct before jerking back, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest when hurt flashes in Minho’s eyes. 

“What happened?” he asks, voice hoarse. “Why would you want to end this, all of a sudden?” 

You drop your eyes down— afraid that you will unravel the moment your eyes meet. “It’s too risky,” you say. “What we have going on. I can’t bear it anymore.” 

You’ve put up your walls of sand again, building them so thick that even Minho is not able to break through. Or so you hope. 

Minho’s dark eyes bore holes into your skin as he studies you for a moment, before giving a dismissive shake of his head. “Bullshit. That’s bullshit.” 

You twist your mouth into a sneer. “What do you know? You’ve been gone for four years.” 

He takes a step back, flinching as if you had physically slapped him across the face. You haven’t mentioned his departure in ages, and bringing it up again is like ripping open an old wound. You watch as Minho’s face hardens, body tense as he takes a step forward. 

“You’re still a fucking coward, huh? Even after all this time.” 

You open your mouth to tell him to stop talking, to shut the fuck up, because you cannot bear to see just how far he’s seen into you. After all this time, he still knocks down your walls as if they were made of glass. 

You look up then, to study him. To take in this boy you have loved for fifteen years now, and to gather up the courage to push him away. “A coward?” 

“I know you love me,” he says. “But you’re scared to say so because you’re too afraid that I’ll leave again.” 

The words hang in the air for a moment before dissipating. You force a sneer, telling yourself that this is for the greater good. 

“Is that what you thought all this time?” you ask. “That I loved you?” 

Dig your nails deep into his flesh, break him open. Push him away before he can see right into you. Look away before you can catch the glimpse of hurt in his eyes, because you cannot afford to feel guilty. 

“You ghosted me for four years,” you say. “And you still think that I love you? That I ever loved you?” 

He opens his mouth to speak and you cut him off. 

“You were fun while it lasted. But you burnt out a long time ago,” you say. “And I should have ended all of this before it could have spiraled into this fucking trainwreck.” 

You can’t seem to stop the words from tumbling out of your mouth, pushing on heedlessly, blinded with your own need to keep him away. “You’re like a cigarette. Addictive in the moment, useless the moment you burn out,” you hear yourself say, although your voice sounds as if it’s underwater. “And now you’re just a stub, something I should have stamped out a long time ago.” 

It is then that you finally look up to meet his eyes one last time. 

“So I’m just finishing off what I should have thrown out a long time ago,” you say. Minho is silent as he stares at you, unflinching as his dark eyes sift through you. You take a step back, clutching the knob of your door so tightly that your knuckles turn white. 

“Leave,” you say. “I don’t want to see you again.” 

Minho leaves. Maybe a long time ago, you believed in fairytales, in happily ever after and driving off into the sunset. 

But that was an eternity ago. And this is no fairytale. 

You shuffle back into your apartment to make yourself coffee, hands shaking as you pour out the cream. 

xii. through the screen.

You melt back into your life before he came back as a shadow. You can feel yourself going through the movements; buying groceries, finishing up homework assignments, attending lectures, but you’re barely there, a ghost mimicking the motions of life. 

Minho goes viral a few weeks later over some fancam of him and Chou Tzuyu. Bitter bile rises up in your throat as you watch the two of them converse, heads tilted towards each other, lips curled into smiles. 

You tell yourself that it’s only natural that he’s moved on, although this isn’t much of a consolation, either. Your friends invite you out to drinks one night, sensing your moodiness, and you cancel out on them at the last minute, telling them that you’ve got a stomachache. They either don’t care or can’t tell, because they don’t bother prying past your half-assed excuse. 

Minho was the only one who had ever been able to see right through you, and now that he is gone, you are untouchable. And you would like to keep it that way. 

He will be the first and last person to ever make it behind your walls. 

Behind the screen, you watch as Minho continues to stitch his life back together, closing over the gaping wounds so seamlessly that it’s hard to believe the two of you ever loved each other in the first place. Pictures of Minho and Tzuyu surface all over Twitter, and you scroll through all of them endlessly, envy burning heavy at the back of your throat, a sour taste blossoming on your tongue as you bite back your pain. 

Just when you feel that you are unable to stand this world anymore, that you cannot bear to live your life as a shadow for a minute longer, the car accident happens. 

xii. as it all comes down. 

It happens like this. 

You receive a call from Minho’s mom, and your first instinct is to ignore it. Because you can’t bear to hear her voice, so similar to Minho’s, or to speak to her, acting as if you and Minho are still on good terms. But a small voice at the back of your mind nags at you to pick up the call, and so, against your better judgment, you do. 

When you pick up, her voice is hoarse and raw with fear. “Y/N. I thought you’d want to hear this.” 

Your heart dips as you clutch at your phone nervously. 

“Mrs. Lee? What’s wrong?” 

“There’s been a car accident in Itaewon. Minho’s been rendered unconscious.” 

It is then that she breaks into sobs, and all you can register is the way your world shatters and crumbles into shards of glass at her words, the way her sobs come out all wrong through the phone, as if underwater. 

For the first time in months, the fear within you makes you feel a little less like a ghost. 

Minho is still unconscious by the time you arrive at the hospital. The Stray Kids members are crowded around his bed when you burst into the room, but they easily part the moment you approach the hospital bed. 

Minho lies limp against the starched white linen of the hospital sheets, dark hair splayed out in a halo around his head. You can hardly make sense of it all, can hardly even register the absurdity of the entire situation. 

But amidst the turmoil that surrounds you, there is one thing that remains clear. And that is this: you cannot bear to lose the pain in the ass that is Lee Minho again. 

All your life, you have been afraid of being seen, afraid that they’d crack you open if they came too close. Fearing that they’d catch a glimpse of the monster inside if you let them in, the monster that you could only barely contain. 

But it is only now that you realize that perhaps it is not the worst thing to be seen by Lee Minho. Because you know all too well how he has seen every corner of you, and how he has loved you all the same for it all. 

You reach out a trembling hand to graze your thumb against the ridge of his cheekbone. He looks so peaceful like this, almost as if asleep. 

“Lee Minho,” you whisper, your voice barely audible against the incessant humming of the hospital machines. “Please wake up.” 

xiv. when you reach out with both hands. 

Minho finally wakes up three days later. 

You’re half-asleep by his hospital bed, cheek pressed against the sheets of his bed, hand intertwined with his own. His members left a few hours ago for practice, and the room is foreignly quiet without their soft murmurs or gentle peals of laughter. You’re just about to drift off completely to take the first nap you’ve taken in days when you hear your name. 

You jerk awake, sitting up so fast that you accidentally slam your knee against the bedframe. When you glance up, Minho is looking at you with tired eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. 

“Minho,” you say. And then you don’t know what else to say, so you just take a moment to stare dumbly at him. 

“Y/N,” he says hoarsely, voice rusty from disuse. “I thought I’d never see you again.” 

You notice that your fingers are still intertwined against the bed sheets, so you take a moment to yank your hand back, cheeks flushed. Standing up, you grab a cup of water that’s been sitting by his bedside and thrust it towards him. “Shut up and drink.” 

Minho glances down at his hands, both of which are attached to IV drips. Mumbling a string of curses underneath your breath, you raise the cup to his lips, tipping it forward for him to drink. Your hands are shaking so badly that a bit of the water slops out, trickling down the collar of his hospital gown, but he doesn’t seem to mind it much. 

When he finishes the cup, he turns back to you. 

“I can’t believe you came,” he says, head tilted as he takes you in. 

You flush again. 

“Idiot,” you mumble. “Of course I came.” 

Because you’d always come back to Minho, no matter how many times you ran away. 

He grins, eyes crinkling fondly as you glare at him. For a moment, an awkward silence settles in before he clears his throat. “You look like shit.” 

“You don’t look much better,” you shoot back. He’s not wrong though— you haven’t showered in three days and the meals you’ve had were few and far in between. You’d probably look a lot worse had it not been for Minho’s mom, who insisted on bringing you homecooked meals everyday and a fresh change of clothes. 

You’re about to launch into a lecture about how you’d kill him if he ever gets into a car accident again and does he know how worried you’ve been these past few days and what was he even thinking, getting hurt like that without your permission? But instead, what comes out is—

“Are you and Tzuyu really dating?” 

Minho lets out a choking sound, whipping his head up to stare at you. “Is that what you’ve been worried about this whole time?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Just answer the question.” 

“We aren’t dating,” he laughs. “We’ve just been hanging out more, mostly for fanservice. She’s already dating someone else.” 

You would like to say that relief didn’t course through your veins at this confession, that you didn’t let out a huge exhale of respite, but unfortunately, that would be a lie. Minho laughs again, eyes fond as he reaches out to brush his fingers against your wrist. 

“Did we really look like we were dating this whole time?” 

You glare at him. “That’s what everyone was saying at least. You could have at least texted me to clear things up.” 

“If I recall correctly, wasn’t it you who told me that you never wanted to see me again?” 

You have no refutation to this very reasonable point, so instead you opt to glare at him some more, cheeks coloring. Minho laughs again and reaches over to lace your fingers with his own, his skin warm and real against your fingers. 

You stare down at your intertwined hands and wonder how something so small could feel so impossibly right. Minho’s voice is gentle in your ears. 

“Y/N,” he says softly. “I don’t think there’s any point in denying all of this anymore.” 

Your eyes burn as you study your lap, cheeks flushed. When you finally speak, your voice is small and crumbling. “What are you going to do about it, then?” 

“Date me for real this time,” he says. And there is no trace of hesitation in his voice, only a gentle firmness. “I won’t leave you behind again. Promise.” 

You close your eyes and think about happy endings and what it means to love someone. And for the first time in an eternity, you break down your walls. And you let him in. 

Looking up, you gaze at Minho, this boy who you have adored for a lifetime now, and you smile. 

“Okay,” you say. 

And then he brings you close to him and you let him, allow him to trace over your every flaw and scar and allow him to love you for it all anyway. 

Maybe it’s true that you don’t believe in happy endings, that happily ever after could never exist in a world like your own. 

But right now, in this moment, you desperately want to believe in a happily ever after with Minho. 

xv. 10 years ago. 

Once upon a time, there lived a girl in a castle located deep within the forest. 

She was always alone, and always bored. So one day, she left the castle to find herself a friend to play with. 

She offered them all sorts of amazing gifts, but they never accepted her. They pushed her away and left, leaving her sitting in the dust. 

Later on, she found out why. A monster who carried with her the shadow of death. That’s what everyone called her. 

She was angry at everyone. Bitter towards the world who she had accepted with open arms, the world that had pushed her away and left her in the shadows. 

And even so, despite her anger, she one day rescued a boy from drowning. She dove deep within the murky waters and pulled the boy out of the river, dragging him onto the sandy shore of the river. 

She took in the boy, who lay limp against the sand of the river bank, hair slick with river water. The boy opened his eyes and took in the girl, with her angry eyes and her bitter shadow. 

And the moment the girl saw this boy, impossibly beautiful against the river bank, dark eyes tracing over her every feature, her bitter shadow disappeared. And from then on, the boy followed her around instead. 

And for the first time, the girl was happy. 

“That’s a terrible story,” you told 12-year old Minho when he recited this fairytale to you. 

Minho’s eyes had widened in protest. This was back when dementia pills didn’t sit by his father’s bedside, back when everything was so perfect that it felt almost wrong. 

“Why?” he had demanded, eyes narrowed. “I think it was a pretty good fairytale.”

You had shook your head dismissively. “It’s too perfect. No stories are that simple.” 

Minho had smiled then, a smile that you were captivated by even at the young age of 12. 

“But doesn’t it remind you of what it means to love someone?” he had asked, eyes a thousand years old as he gazed at you. 

You cross your arms skeptically over your chest. 

“To really see them for who they are and to follow them to the ends of the earth anyway,” Minho said slowly. “Maybe that’s what it means to love someone.” 

You had laughed then, and Minho had echoed your laugh a few seconds later. You were both young then, and free of the burdens of life. 

“Maybe,” you said. “Maybe.” 

[xonepeacelovex]

Hello! Can you make a scenario where Lee know bully’s you but actually likes you then you hurt yourself and he regrets it and can the reader not die🥹 if you do ty!

What if I told you I've fallen?

The doorbell rang but you pay no attention to it. You can't move, you don't have the energy to do so. Your body hurts and even little movements make your headache much worse. So you close your eyes, hoping that the delivery man will come back the next time you're better.

The doorbell rang again, you search for your phone, maybe it was your friends who came to visit you. But there's no message from Seungmin nor Hyunjin, they said they'll visit you after work with a promised dinner.

So who the hell is at your door in the middle of the day?

You got up from your bed with all your strength. It's about time to get some water and take your medicine. With the blanket around your face, without any care about how you'll look crazy, you opened the door.

Minho, the sole reason why are you in this state.

You coughed at his face, surprised and confused about why is he there. Frowning at him, you clearly said you are done with him. You'll not play his games anymore. It's been years since he started this beef with you. You don't know why he hates you so much. Is it because you became friends with his friends? The only reasonable explanation you can conclude is that he doesn't want you to be in his circle of friends. Cause it looks like he hated you since the start. But last night was the last straw, he made you wait in the middle of the rain.

"Why are you so pressed?" He said with a grin on his face, the umbrella covering him from the pouring rain.

"You made me wait for hours."

"It's not my fault. I don't have your phone number with me."

You know this routine, he'll put all the blame on you.

"Cause you refused to give your number to," he shrugs, "a stranger right?" He smiles, clearly enjoying this. Ugh. He's so annoying.

"You know what? If I'd known you are the one I'll be with today. I'll cancel everything. What was Changbin thinking this was a good idea?"

"Maybe that's why Changbin thinks this was a good idea."

"Well, it's not," shivering when a cold wind passed by. He observes you before walking a little close to where you at, "Why are you fuming? I'm doing you a favor here." The umbrella covers your head, but you are flustered with how close he is. Stepping back from him, he frowned at you.

Damn. Now you feel hot.

"I asked my friends to do this volunteering with me, not you."

"Well, your friends can't make it."

You sighed, maybe you'll do this some other time. It's raining hard.

"Just go home," you said before sneezing. You definitely will catch a cold. You started walking when Minho called you.

"Y/N..." You looked back, "Look Minho, this was supposed to be a good day with my friends."

"And I ruined it?" He said before you can even be finished what you'll say, "Because I'm the one who showed up?"

"The key word is friends. And we are not friends. We are far from that."

"Cause you don't want to be friends with me. I'm doing all I can to..."

"Oh please Minho. You are the one who hates me from the start. You know what? Let's stop this. We are not kids anymore to fight like this. If we don't want each other around then let's avoid each other. I'm so done having these arguments with you. Our friends are also tired of this for sure." You did not wait for whatever he'll say. Whether he agrees or not, you'll just avoid him.

You can't deal with this now. You are about to close your door when he stopped it with his foot.

"Ouch," he said, lifting it while hopping from the pain, you rolled your eyes, opening your door widely this time.

"What are you doing here?" He stopped hopping and stayed still, you noticed a plastic bag in his hand.

"Who's idea is this? Is it Chan?" Ready to call your friend to stop this.

"What? No."

"Seungmin? Why are they doing this?"

"Y/N," he sighs, "I'm here to say sorry."

You looked at him for a good second. You are really sick to hear such things. Are you hallucinating?

"I'm sorry Y/N. I did not mean to keep you waiting yesterday. I volunteered to accompany you because I thought maybe we can be closer if we spend time with each other." You just stared at him, processing everything. Minho? Saying sorry? Wanting to be closer to you? He sighs before continuing, "I don't hate you. I also don't want to be your friend." You scoffed at him, "Let me finish first. I don't want to be just your friend." Just a friend? What does it even mean? He took a deep breath, "What if I told you I've fallen?"

"Right? I think you bump your head somewhere. You are not making any sense right now."

He rolled his eyes at me, before shaking his head.

"Our friends are right. We are both dumb."

"Now, I am dumb?"

"No. I mean, I am dumb for getting your attention by annoying you, the densest person I know."

"Now, I am dense?"

He took a deep breath again, calming his nerves, "All the hints and you're just picking the bad things," Minho looked at me, "What I'm trying to say is, loudly and clearly, is that... "

And your whole world stops...

"I know it's such a childish act to tease you every time but I don't know how to even get your attention. I say things I did not mean because I'm so nervous around. Do things I normally would not because I don't know how to act around you. Just, it's not me when you're around. I'm a mess when I'm with you. Then Changbin suggested spending time with you, just the two of us and I agreed right away because it's you. I just want you to know the real Minho. The Minho who's not troublesome."

"Maybe bring me to the hospital right now. The fever is making me hallucinate things."

"Y/N," he walks towards you while you back away, "I- I..." he puts his hand on your forehead, "Never mind," he sighs before making accompanying you to your bedroom.

"Let's talk again once your fever is gone."

Copyright © 2022 xonepeacelovex All rights reserved.

[gamerwoo]

[SKZ Imprinted] Minho: One-Eighty (Part Three)

Anonymous asked: Queen, give the people what they want, and that would be minho’s imprinted part. 3! Make it dramatic, make it life changing, give our boy some peace. Thank you for all the amazing writing 💕

Characters: Minho x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, werewolf hunter au, hurt/comfort, lots of angst, violence, guns, shooting, blood, mentions of possible death and one mention of possible suicide but nothing happens, fluff at the end i swear!!!! (it’s about time huh lmao)

Word count: 4,698

Summary: You’ve done everything you possibly can to try to make it up to Minho and his pack, but at this point, you’re not sure if you can come back from what you’ve done.

a/n: things in bold are in english. also i hope this was very dramatic and life changing <3

Previous | Next | Imprinted Masterlist

You were on the couch when Elsie got home. She trudged in and kicked off her boots at the door like always before going to the couch and flopping down beside you with a long sigh.

“You were gone for a while,” you noted. “What’s wrong?”

Elsie just shook her head as it laid on the back of the couch, closing her eyes, “You don’t wanna know.”

“Well now I really want to know,” you scoffed.

“Look, _____, I love you, but I know you’ll wanna do some stupid shit when I tell you so it’s better--”

“If you’re keeping something about Minho from me--”

“It’s not about Minho, dude! Drop it,” she insisted, rubbing her face with her hands.

You stood from the couch, hands balling at your sides as you demanded, “It either has to do with Minho or Jungkook, and I wanna know what, so tell me right now, Elsie!”

Elsie cracked her eyes open and looked at you. She considered her options, unsure what you might do if she kept this from you, so she asked, “What if I don’t?”

“I’ll go find out alone,” you stated lowly, “and you can’t stop me.”

It was hard for Elsie to admit she wasn’t at least a little bit concerned for the pack when she left Seungcheol’s. But your sister was more concerned about keeping you safe over anyone else -- including the younger wolf she’d gotten not admittedly fond of, or her ‘mate’ who she was still trying to figure out. However, she knew you’d be hellbent on escaping the apartment to figure out what was wrong, and even though she was older and more experienced than you, she wasn’t sure if she could keep you trapped in the apartment all night. Plus, if anything did happen to Minho and you found out that you could’ve done something if Elsie had warned you, she knew you’d never forgive her.

With a groan, she put a hand to her forehead like she had a headache, “Tae got Chan.”

Your eyes widened as your heart sank, “What?!”

“I guess Tae was dating Aeri but she dumped him for Chan, and--”

“That’s why he skipped town?!” you realized. “Oh my god...he was dating Chan’s mate?! Holy shit--!”

“Alright, you wanted to know so bad, so can you focus?” Elsie interrupted, lifting her hand and looking up at you. “Chan’s pack is going after him, and they went to Bomi for help, but all she’s doing is helping them get in. They’re on their own after that.”

“Elsie, they’re going to die!” you cried.

“I don’t think Kookie’s with them, so maybe--”

“It doesn’t matter, you know how Namjoon and them are! Half of them are literal demons, they’ll--! ...Els...”

When you stopped panicking suddenly, Elsie got nervous. She stood and looked at you with concern, “_____...?”

Your eyes had focused elsewhere while you thought, but then they met your sister’s with a very slight grin, “Didn’t you get that angel blade off the market?”

Her eyes narrowed, “How’d you know about my angel blade...?”

Your smirk grew wider, “You’re either going to give it to me, or you’re going to bring it with us.”

“What does that mean?”

“Either you’re coming with me or I’m going alone.”

“_____, that’s literally insane. That’ll be the second time I’ve broken a treaty, and we’ll get double hell for it because it’s both of us. No way we’re making it out alive, and I--”

You gripped your sister’s arms tightly, “Will you stop trying to protect me?! I’m a big girl, I can handle myself, okay? And I already almost got Minho and his pack killed once. Els, I have to make it up to them. I need him to forgive me!”

Elsie studied you silently for what felt like forever, and you felt like time was ticking faster and faster with each passing moment. You stared into each others eyes, you waiting for her to respond, and her wondering what to do. Did she try to keep you safe, or did she let you try to redeem yourself but probably die trying?

-

Jeongin shifted, and that was when all hell really broke loose. As second in command while the alpha was subdued, Minho was doing his best to keep it together while also protecting the rest of his pack, but there was so much going on. Despite having less members than the pack, the hunters were just too strong and had too many weapons to use against them. Still Minho kept fighting until--

Bang!

The gunshot that boomed through the room took everyone by surprise, and all eyes turned to see what had happened.

“Chan!” Aeri cried as the alpha’s eyes widened and he sunk to the ground despite his mate’s best efforts.

Jeongin let out a howl and a growl ripped through Minho’s chest as his eyes zeroed in on the hunter with the gun. He yelled as he ran as fast as his legs would carrying him, throwing all his weight into the hunter, and they rolled to the ground together. Maybe this was a losing battle, but they would absolutely die trying to either get their alpha out to get the help he needed, or avenge him.

But suddenly, the lights turned off, and emergency red lights turned on. An alarm blared that made Minho flinch from the noise level hurting his ears. The hunters were clearly panicked, the one Minho had tackled scrambling to his feet as he asked their leader what to do next.

Suddenly, the door burst open. Minho turned to look, and--

‘_____.’

He just knew it was you under that helmet as you aimed your gun and fired at the first hunter you saw. The other figure -- he could tell was your sister now that he was focusing on you and not fighting the hunters -- pulled out a shiny blade from her holster and lunged at one of the hunters, who disappeared and reappeared elsewhere in a puff of smoke.

“Joon, they’ve got an angel blade!” they shouted.

‘Angel blade? Aren’t those for demon hunters?’ he thought to himself.

But knowing it was Elsie, he somehow was surprised she owned one.

Another gunshot went off, and his focus went back to you and never left you. You had aimed at someone else, and judging from the cry of pain, you didn’t miss. He hardly noticed the hunters deciding to retreat, and doing so by teleporting away. All he could focus on was you, his mate, who he hadn’t seen for way too long.

His brothers cowered in fear at the two strangers, but Minho stared like you were an angel coming to rescue them. Despite feeling indifferent toward you, now that you were in front of him after so long, he’d get down on his knees in front of you if you told him to.

“Demon hunters,” Changbin explained when Jisung had asked just who the hell these people were. “They’re the only people to have angel blades.”

Minho shook his head, barely letting out a, “N-no... That’s... No...”

Seungmin narrowed his eyes slightly as he took a step forward, recognizing his mate as well, “Elsie?”

Elsie lifted her helmet and tossed it to the side before letting down her hair, but Minho’s eyes were stuck on you. And even though he couldn’t see your eyes behind the shield, you had finally noticed his gaze. You were beyond nervous, but he could tell. He heard the quick thud of your heart as the two of you just stared at each other wordlessly, ignoring your sister and Seungmin going back and forth.

When Elsie tried explaining that it wasn’t her idea to show up, and Hyunjin wondered what exactly happened then, Minho finally got up and moved forward. His eyes stayed on you as he stopped in front of you and placed his hands on either side of your helmet. Slowly, he lifted it and met your eyes. His heart melted then and there, though he didn’t show any emotion other than awe like he had been. You, however, definitely looked nervous, but you still couldn’t peel your eyes away from him. It was like the two of you were in a trance.

You barely heard Felix breathe out, “Holy shit...”

“Can we focus here?!” Changbin demanded.

And then the pack was in full-on panic mode as they rushed to their alpha.

“_____...” Minho said your name as a breathy whisper, gently brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“Minho,” your voice was soft but full of relief, feeling this must be a good sign. You reached up for his face, “Minho, I--”

With his hand that touched your face, he quickly grabbed your hand -- his grip with soft, but the speed almost startled you -- and held it so you couldn’t touch him. His eyes closed as he told you, “You need to go home.”

Your eyes that shimmered with hope were dull again as your heart sank, “But Min--”

“Go,” he said more forcefully, but his voice was still soft. “Please.”

Then he dropped your hand, turned away from you, and strode over to his alpha.

-

“Hey,” Hansol rushed through the door with Kira helping Jamie in behind him, “is everyone okay? Did they make it back?”

“Everyone’s safe,” Seungcheol reassured him.

“Chan almost died,” Soonyoung stated like he was telling Hansol the weather outside.

Hansol gave him a weird look before looking to the younger pack on the couch, “Are you guys okay?”

“Shaken up, but...” as Felix trailed off, he looked at Minho who was sulking on the floor at the end of the couch, “...mostly okay.”

Hansol nodded his head toward the upset wolf, “What happened?”

“Elsie and _____ showed up,” Seungmin sighed. “I don’t think it helped him mentally all that much.”

Hansol’s eyes widened, “Are they okay?”

“They went home,” Seungmin nodded. “I hate to admit it but they did basically save us.”

“They posed as demon hunters,” Changbin explained as Jamie situated herself by his side. “They pulled their alarm and Elsie brought an angel blade -- no fucking idea how she got her hands on one, but can’t say I’m surprised.”

Jisung looked at Seungmin, commenting, “She’s scary.”

“No she isn’t,” Jeongin scoffed.

“Where’s Chris and Aeri?” Kira wondered.

“Upstairs in Josh’s room,” Wonwoo replied. “Him and Jaehee are staying in the spare room tonight.”

“Is he healing alright?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Aya assured her.

“So...we’re good?” Hansol checked.

Hyunjin nodded his head toward Minho who still wouldn’t look at anything other than the floor, “Not quite.”

Jeonghan sighed, “I still don’t really understand what the deal is. Doesn’t _____ still wanna be with him? So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is,” Minho snapped suddenly, his hard gaze landing on the older wolf, “that she almost killed my brothers. How am I supposed to just forgive that?”

“I’ll be honest, I’d be kind of insulted if you did forgive her that quickly,” Seungmin admitted with a shrug.

“His mate at least changed her mindset, meanwhile your mate still wants to kill us,” Jeongin stated with an almost disgusted look. “You can’t talk.”

“You’re the one that’s buddy-buddy with her. How can you say she wants to kill us?”

“I think they’re both pretty okay...” Felix shrugged.

“They’re both scary,” Jisung admitted quietly.

“I hate both of ‘em,” Hyunjin stated emotionlessly.

“Can you guys shut the fuck up?!” Minho burst.

“Okay, okay,” Changbin stepped in, holding his hands up to both parties calmly. “I don’t think the bickering is helping Minho’s mood. He’s clearly upset.”

“If you don’t want her to be your mate, why are you so upset that you saw her, anyway?” Hyunjin questioned.

Minho gave his brother a look like he was stupid -- which he kind of was, “I imprinted on her, I can’t un-imprint. I can’t help but love her, but...what she did...”

“I mean, if I could give my two cents on the matter,” Mingyu spoke up shyly. He cleared his throat and moved forward on the couch to speak to Minho. “When I first imprinted on Bomi, she was trying to kill Chan. She was sent to kill him or capture him or something, but she saw me and she felt the pull, and she shot me straight in the shoulder.”

“Yeah, just tell everyone we know, why don’t ya?” she mumbled from the doorway, arms crossing over her chest as she looked away.

“Oh, he’s already told everyone the story,” Seungcheol chuckled.

“I don’t hate you, do I?” Mingyu asked her. “Neither does Chan, right?”

“I kinda did for a while...” Chan muttered.

“But I still accepted you,” Mingyu stated. Then he turned to Minho again, whose expression was starting to soften as he took in the tall wolf’s words. “I knew she felt remorse as soon as she shot me. I saw the look on her face when she saw Chan cry, and I knew she wasn’t bad. Yeah, her intentions were, but she changed. And I knew maybe total change would be hard, but I knew there was hope. For you, you changed her before you were even put in that situation. And honestly, if her going in to face the hunters she worked with just to save you and your brothers doesn’t prove her to you, I don’t know what will.”

“She really did put her life on the line for your guys,” Bomi agreed. “I’ve worked with all of them long enough to know they take their deals seriously. Honestly, the fact they let Elsie off when she broke hers to rescue _____ and you guys is shocking. If they find out that they were the ‘demon hunters’ they retreated from...”

“One problem at a time, please,” Changbin said from where he was sitting beside Jamie again, sounding a little tired.

“Point is, she knows she fucked up, and she’s clearly trying to make it up to you -- all of you,” Mingyu continued. “And, no offense to your pack, but if you love her, you shouldn’t let their feelings stop you from being with her. Chan and everyone eventually came around; your brothers will, too.”

Minho’s eyes went from Mingyu to Bomi, “What were you saying about her brother’s crew?”

“Minho, that’s--”

He held his hand up to Changbin to silence him as he got up from the floor and strode over to Bomi, “How soon do you think they’d figure it out?”

Bomi shrugged, “I-I’m not really sure. I mean, we’ve all been so stressed about Bang Chan that I kinda overlooked that they could get caught... I-I’m sorry, Minho--”

Minho hardly turned to address the room as he said, “I’m going to find her.”

Felix stood, “Minho--”

Seungcheol put his arm out to stop Felix, “Let him go.”

“I’ll go with him,” Seungmin stated as Minho was already out the door. He stood and jogged to catch up.

“What, why?” Jisung exclaimed. “That’s just more of you to get into a bad situation!”

“Well he can’t do it alone,” Seungmin shrugged, turning and continuing to walk backwards so he could talk to the pack. “Besides, wherever _____ is, I’m sure my pain in the ass isn’t far behind.”

Then he turned around and jogged out of the house.

-

Elsie answered the knock, but she already knew who it was. She was in a t-shirt and some shorts, ready for the night despite the fact she knew she wouldn’t sleep at all that night.

When she opened the door, she saw a panicked Minho with Seungmin over his shoulder.

“Where’s _____?” Minho demanded as he pushed passed your sister.

She raised her eyebrows and slowly turned, “Alright, first of all, that’s fucking rude. I know you’re a werewolf but I didn’t think you were actually raised in a cave.

“Second, _____’s not here.”

Minho suddenly whipped around, “What? Where is she? Is she okay?”

Elsie just shrugged, “She said she had to go. She didn’t say how long or what for, and she didn’t say if she’d be back. I can’t stop her from leaving if she doesn’t wanna stick around with me.”

“What the fuck do you mean you didn’t stop her?!” he growled. “What if the hunters find her?!”

Elsie didn’t seem amused by his tone, but she just rolled her eyes and said, “They may seem tough, but those demons shit bricks when there’s even a sign of a demon hunter. They’re not gonna go back to their HQ for a while so they’ll never know it was us -- at least for a few days.”

“What if she does something stupid?!” he continued.

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “Then that’s on you, mutt. You’re the one who’s been avoiding her.”

Minho opened his mouth, but nothing came out. She was right. What could he say to that?

“I’ve done my fucking best to try to make her happy again,” she continued, “but all she can think about is you. She cries every. Fucking. Night over you. Her and I risked our lives for your dumb asses, and what does she get? ‘Go home,’ or whatever bullshit. I’m so tired of having to pick up the pieces of my sister’s broken heart that you just keep smashing to smaller and smaller pieces. I’m the one who’s been trying to clean up the mess you made, so don’t you dare blame me if something happens to her. Yes I let her leave, but what am I gonna do? Keep her a prisoner here and try to force-feed her every fucking day? None of this would even be a fucking issue if you just accepted her when she tried to make it up to you. Fuck you, Minho.”

“Okay, alright, he gets it,” Seungmin finally butted in, putting himself between his mate and his brother now that she was standing right in his face and pointing her finger into his chest.

Elsie’s eyes were filling with tears, unsure of what was going on with you now, but she knew that she’d already tried everything. You said you needed to go think, but who knew what you were going to do. Maybe you were going to leave and never come back. Nobody knew, but she couldn’t just keep you in a place you were still unhappy in. She felt utterly helpless and she 100% blamed Minho for it.

Minho looked away from Elsie’s eyes for a moment, staring at the floor.

“I have to find her,” he mumbled.

“Oh, now you want to make it right with her?” she let out a sharp laugh and shook her head. “Where the fuck do you get the audacity--”

“Alright, you need to calm down,” Seungmin said as he had to stop the older girl from trying to get by him to get to Minho. “I know you’re mad at him, but obviously what your sister wants is for Minho to just accept her. You need to let him go after her.”

“I don’t give a shit if he goes after her!” she burst. Her glare was back on Minho, and if looks could kill, he’d have been stabbed 37 times and then lit on fire. “But I swear to god, if you hurt her more, I’ll make damn sure you don’t make it to see sunlight.”

Ignoring his mate, Seungmin turned his head to Minho, “Go. I’ll stay here with her.”

As Minho quickly left the apartment, all he heard was Elsie saying, “I don’t need a babysitter!”

-

Tracking you down wasn’t the hard part. Minho could easily follow the imprinting pull and be led straight to you. The hard part was getting to you. You’d gone so far away already, and he wasn’t sure where you were headed or what the reason was. Thankfully, he didn’t sense that you were in any danger, but he knew that could change at a moment’s notice.

At some point, he began to recognize where he was going. You’d taken some long road trip that ended up circling back to the city he lived in. He recognized the streets, the signs, the buildings, until he got to his own shitty apartment complex. Your car was parked outside, so he went up to the building. He followed the pull all the way up to his apartment, where the door was closed but unlocked. He opened it, only to find the apartment completely in the dark. The blinds were closed, only small slivers of moonlight escaping. But with his perfect eyesight, he could still make you out, sitting curled up on the couch.

He walked over to the couch silently and stood there, waiting. He knew you knew he was there, but you didn’t say anything. All he heard was your breathing as your face was hidden in your knees that were up to your chest.

“_____,” he murmured, “what’re you doing here?”

Finally, you lifted your head. He could tell you had been crying for a while -- and hard, at that.

“What do you want me to do, Minho?” you sobbed.

The way his heart shattered was a physical pain in his chest. He had to grip the arm of the couch just to stay standing as he watched you fall apart at the other end.

“I just wanna take it back!” you blubbered, covering your mouth because you knew your hiccupped sobs that wracked your body were loud, but even muffling them didn’t seem to decrease the volume and only made the severity worse.

You wanted to go back in time and be honest from the start. You wished you knew then what you know now. You wanted to take everything back but nothing you seemed to do to try to make it right worked. And you just had to accept it. But how were you supposed to? How could you just move on from Minho? And what was he supposed to do? Just die without you? Honestly, you’d rather die before he did.

You crawled over to the other side of the couch and looked up into Minho’s golden eyes as he just stared, looking at you with his mouth agape and pity in his eyes.

“Just tell me what to do to fix it,” you begged. “I’ll do whatever you want. Please, Minho, I can’t--”

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around you, burying your head in his shoulder. You held onto him with every ounce of strength you had left, your cries being muffled by his shirt. You hadn’t cried this hard since the first few nights but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were crying so hard you thought you might throw up.

“You’re okay,” he said softly, choking back tears himself. He squeezed his eyes closed and buried his face in your hair, just letting you cry. “You’re okay, _____. I won’t let you go.”

Minho managed to climb over the arm and sit against it on the couch, cradling you in his lap while you continued to cry against him. He rocked you from side to side slowly, quietly shushing your cries but letting you get everything out. You still weren’t sure if he was just doing all of this to tell you there wasn’t a chance, so you clung to him like your life depended on it.

Over time, your cries got quieter, but the tears still kept coming.

“Tell me how to fix this,” you begged in a whisper. “I’ll do anything.”

“You’ve done more than enough, _____,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry I did this to you; I shouldn’t have done this to you.”

You wanted to tell him he didn’t have any reason to be sorry, but you could only reply with more tears. You felt so stupid for crying so much but you still couldn’t stop. You were scared this was some sort of delusion from crying too hard.

At some point, you felt yourself shift as Minho got his arms under you and moved to stand. He lifted you with him and carried you to the bedroom Changbin and Jamie shared, but he knew they wouldn’t be home, anyway. He laid you down in bed and got right in beside you, tucking both of you under the covers. 

You weren’t sure when the crying stopped or when sleep finally came, but you remembered feeling Minho’s warm lips against your head and forehead every now and then, and soft whispers that reassured you he wasn’t going anywhere.

However, you awoke only a couple hours later to Minho’s soft voice as he murmured to...someone. You assumed he was on the phone because as you came to, your ears started to pick up a quiet voice that was replying but you couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Yeah, she’s-- Well, she was asleep,” he chuckled softly, and then one of his hands started running through your hair. 

As you laid there slowly waking up and remembering what had happened, you realized you weren’t in his arms anymore, but one was still draped over you. He was also flush with your back so you still had contact with him. But you figured you would’ve noticed if he moved you. You must’ve been exhausted.

“Are you staying there tonight?” Minho asked the person on the phone. “...Is she mad? ...Well, if I die, I die, I guess. ...I will. ...Yeah, let them know we’re good. ...Thanks, Seungmin. ...Bye.

“Sorry for waking you up,” he said softly before pressing a kiss to your temple. He was propped up on his other arm while he was on the phone, but he stayed like that while he talked to you. “Your sister wanted to know if you were okay.”

“I pro--” you stopped to clear your throat, realizing you sounded like shit. “I probably freaked her out.”

“You should’ve seen how pissed she was at me,” he chuckled. “I don’t blame her, but...yeah.”

You rolled over to face him. You couldn’t see the way Minho looked at you, but you kind of hated knowing he could see you. You knew you probably looked like a train wreck.

“What happened?” you asked.

“How do you mean?” he wondered as he brushed hair away from your face.

“With you,” you clarified. “Why’d you...change your mind?”

He let out a chuckle, but it sounded sad. Then he sighed deeply and said, “I never stopped feeling my feelings for you, _____. They never stopped being so intense, either. I just... Did you know about Bomi and Mingyu?”

You snorted, “Of course I do. We thought she got caught but Yoongi found out what really happened. He was pissed but Namjoon said it was a lost cause considering how many there were -- and now plus Bomi.”

“Well, talking with them helped,” he told you, continuing to move his fingers through your hair. “And then I was reminded that your brother might be an issue, and I realized I could lose you...”

“Jungkook wouldn’t hurt me.”

“But when they find out you and Elsie tricked them?”

You shrugged, “I could take him.”

He laughed softly and leaned his head down to press a kiss to the center of your forehead, “Get some sleep. Lord knows neither of us have gotten much of it in a while.”

“Yeah, so you should be sleeping too,” you pointed out.

“I’m keeping watch.”

“I told you, Jungkook won’t--”

“No, I’m more scared of Elsie,” he admitted with another chuckle. “There’s no way Seungmin can control her.”

“You’d be surprised,” you muttered before pulling Minho to finally lay his head down. “Close your eyes.”

“Fine, alright,” he sighed. He moved around a bit with you to get comfortable before he settled and closed his eyes, listening to the beating of your heart. 

The room was silent for a while, and you were almost asleep before you heard him murmur, “I love you, _____. I never stopped and I never will.”

“Cheesy,” you mumbled, but after a pause you replied, “I love you, too.”