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moni-logues · 10 days

Text

What the cat dragged in

Pairing: Lee Know x reader (afab, she/her)

Genre: smut, angst, strangers-to-lovers (kinda); 5+1

Summary: You followed Minho home because you had nowhere else to go. Then you kept following... all the way into his heart, but not his bed.

aka five times you and Minho don't fuck and one time you do.

Content: reader is 16yo in the first section (nothing sexual or romantic happens but there are suggestions of it), couple of references to human/sex trafficking; the gang are useless crime idiots but this is only barely relevant; interrupted foreplay; attempted car sex; unprotected piv sex; fingering; a lot of kissing tbh

Word count: 13.5k

A/N: SO this whole thing actually started HERE in JUNE (jfc, I thought I'd been thinking about this since like, October or something but, no no, a full ten months!!!!). It has drifted from that somewhat but that was its beginning and, honestly, I'm kind of stoked about this fic. I really like how it came out and it's my FIRST MINHO. It's taken me SO long to get around to my bestest evil catdad.

Huge thanks to @violetsiren90 for beta-ing! and also for reading it half-finished when I really needed some encouragment. AND for the title

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FIRST

“Why don’t you fuck off?”

The voice came from behind you. It was low and cold and threatening. It was directed at Shindong, the man in front of you, whom you were sure was this close to offering to take you home. You whipped around to see who had uttered it.

Your immediate thought was that he was too short and too slight to be walking up with that level of aggression. Your second thought was interrupted by the spark that shot up your arm when he grabbed your hand. You’d have pulled it back, but his grip was solid and your arm didn’t budge.

“What the fuck do you want, Minho?” your companion replied, all the charm sliding off his face, replaced with a loathing, arrogant sneer.

“I want you to fuck off.”

“She yours? Might want to keep a closer eye on her; she was just about to come home with me.”

The stranger’s hand squeezed yours, so hard it started to hurt. He offered nothing in response.

Both men continued to stare at each other. Shindong had inches on Minho – both height and breadth – and you couldn’t believe your eyes when you saw him hesitating. He flicked his eyes between you and Minho.

“What if I want to fight you for her?”

“What if I told you she’s not legal?”

Shindong hesitated, moved just a fraction backwards, no longer leaning in, looming over the two of you. He rolled his eyes and gave a heartless chuckle.

“Not worth the fucking bother,” he muttered as he walked away.

Minho, still a stranger to you, still holding your hand, who hadn’t even looked your way, pulled you sharply by said hand, storming off and taking you with him. You followed him into one of the warehouse’s many dark corners. He kicked out the couple who were two clothing items shy of a citation for public indecency, and only then did he let you go. Only then did he turn his dark, flaming eyes on you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked.

Shindong had been your lifeline. What did this guy think he was playing at?

Your vehemence took him off-guard, surprise flashing across his face, until his scowl returned, worse than before. You understood now why he made Shindong hesitate. His gaze was fierce, penetrating, his jaw set, his mouth a taut, grim line. You would never show your hand to anyone, but a cold droplet of fear slithered down your spine. You straightened it, rolled your shoulders back, lifted your head. You wouldn’t let him intimidate you.

“Do you know him?” he asked, voice still low, still threatening.

Not personally. Not until that evening. But people like him came with a reputation that preceded them. A reputation that you were relying upon being based in fact. A reputation that had spread all around your school and beyond, but that you had heard from a source close to the truth. It was close enough that you were able to find him here, in a part of town you’d never been to. It was close enough that you were able to pick Shindong out from this crowd. Close enough that when you approached him and he laughed at you – young, naïve, foolish, all of those things you were sure he thought – you were able to drop his cousin’s name and he suddenly took you seriously. That was what you had been hoping for. A connection was all you needed to keep you covered for a night, at least. Just one would be something.

And then this guy showed up.

“I was about to.”

Minho’s top lip curled, just a fraction, his nose barely wrinkling with the movement, but you got his meaning. Disgust. He could be as disgusted as he liked; that wasn’t your problem. Your problem was that his disgust had led him to chase away your only lead.

Or was he? Was Shindong your only option?

You changed tack. Realised that maybe you had another now. Minho, whoever the fuck he was, had approached you as if he knew you and scared off the competition. That must have been it. Despite the way he glowered at you, absolutely no interest or desire lurking behind his dark eyes, you figured you had nothing left to lose.

You relaxed a little, pouted your lips, played up to the damsel in distress he might have thought you were.

“But if he’s so awful, I guess I can only thank you,” you said, making your voice soft, your eyes a little wider. You lifted your lips in a tiny, shy smile and then put a hand to them, your thumb and index finger tugging a little on your bottom lip, hoping it made you look small, nervous, sweet.

He gave you no reaction. He continued to glare, his stance unchanged, unmoving. So you moved. You stepped towards him: shy, little bird steps, until you were so close that he moved backwards.

“Thanks for looking out for me. Your name’s Minho, right?”

His eyes tightened minutely. He didn’t reply.

“I’d like to thank you properly,” you said, sliding your body into his, pressing just one finger against his chest. You fluttered your lashes up at him.

His face changed immediately. Eyes wide, mouth dropping, and he was stumbling backwards, pressing himself against the wall.

“What the fuck are you doing? What are you, fifteen?”

Embarrassment licked your cheeks like flames and your scowl returned.

“I’m sixteen!”

“Wow, big age. My mistake. By all means, let’s fuck, Sixteen.”

His sarcasm was biting but you hadn’t given yourself up yet.

“Don’t you want to?” you asked, innocently. “You must have sent Shindong away for a reason. If not this, then what?”

He let out a sigh so aggrieved it was almost a shout. He rolled his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, where are your parents?” he asked, but it was muttered, almost under his breath and you didn’t know if you were supposed to answer. You did anyway.

“Dead.”

His lack of reaction grated. He didn’t flinch. There was no surprise, no guilt on his face. He had robbed you of Shindong and now he had robbed you of your fun: getting a reaction out of people as a poor, orphaned, little Annie was as close as you got these days. Then again, he wasn’t a well-meaning aunt or nosy teacher. He knew what this place was; he knew, or at least knew of, Shindong. Maybe your hand-grenade was, here, little more than a snap.

“And this is your great life plan? Offering sexual favours to predators?”

He gestured widely to the room behind you, and you could only assume he did not mean to include himself in that group.

Actually, it was your plan. Kind of… Insofar as you had any sort of plan at all. You would not be telling him that. You kept your mouth shut tight and jaw clenched, refusing to look down, to be the one to break the eye contact.

“You know he’s a fucking bad guy,” he said, more softly than he had said anything so far but the hard edge remained.

“And what are you, my hero?”

“Absolutely fucking not. I do not want to have anything to do with whatever mess you are making of your life, but I’m not about to let that cunt take off with a child.”

“I am not a child!” you shouted, right in his face.

He took it, impassive, unimpressed even.

“That’s exactly what a child would say.”

You wanted to hit him. You wanted to smash him in his beautifully sharp jaw, or break that perfect, delicate nose of his. You were just about not stupid enough to try. How did he even know you were young? You knew you didn’t look it; you were always getting told you looked older than you were. How did he know? Why did he care?

“Go on then,” you said, darkly. “Leave. If I’m not your fucking problem, why don’t you fuck off?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t move.

“Worried I’ll get murdered?”

You lifted your hands to your open mouth, eyes widened, a mockery of fear.

His face and tone were flat when he responded.

“There are things worse than death.”

Then he pushed past you and out of the door.

You took one shaky breath and walked after him before you could talk yourself out of it. You decided that, one way or another, this guy owed you and it was time to collect.

You followed him, not too closely, but not exactly hiding it, for over a mile. You wondered, at one point, if he was trying to lose you, if he was actually heading to his destination or just trying to outlast you. You’d show him. You were a long-distance runner at school; you were extremely confident you could keep up.

So confident, in fact, so determined were you not to lose him, that you were too slow to notice him slowing, to notice him stopping, to very nearly not stop yourself walking into him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked, not turning to look at you.

“I’m walking here.”

“Stop following me.”

“I’m not following you.”

He raised his eyes skyward. He stood for a moment and you stood, too, waiting for him to continue – walking or talking, you didn’t know which. He finally turned around and looked at you, everything about him a little softer than before. Not soft, but softer.

“You can’t follow me,” he told you slowly, emphatically. “I am not looking after you. I am not your fath-“

“I don’t have a fucking father.”

He scoffed.

“Yeah, that much is very clear, Sixteen.”

“I’m not sixteen!”

He frowned.

“That’s what you told me.”

“That’s not my fucking name! Stop saying it like I’m a child. How old are you anyway?”

“Old enough to know better.”

“What does that mean?”

“Go home, Sixteen.”

“I don’t have a home.”

“Well you can’t have mine.”

He turned on his heel and continued walking, a little faster this time, increasing his pace to a jog as he crossed the road. You knew he hoped you wouldn’t be able to follow, that the flashing green man would disappear before you could make it, but you’d been underestimated before.

After another mile or so, you saw him take his phone from his pocket and put it to his ear. You couldn’t quite hear what he was saying but you thought it sounded like Japanese. Was he Japanese?

It hadn’t missed you, the knowledge that you had no knowledge of this man. You understood that you were, as far as you knew, in as much danger following him home as you had been going with Shindong. But you literally had no other options. It was follow this guy somewhere or wander around on the street all night; it was too cold to stay out. You hadn’t thought beyond that when you’d left your house earlier that day. Hadn’t thought much at all, except about getting out.

Now you were out. Mission accomplished. And you had no idea what to do next.

You almost missed him ducking into a narrow side street, but you caught the door he rushed through just before it shut. He disappeared from view through another door, off to the left of the dingy, dimly lit corridor you found yourself in. You stalked up to it – it wasn’t even fully closed – but something made you hesitate.

Suddenly the fear that you had been suppressing all night raised its head. Was this a lion’s den? A serpents’ nest? Was Minho playing some kind of long game, saving you from Shindong so you would trust him, so you would follow him here, so he could…?

“Are you going to fucking stand out there all night?” you heard a voice call from inside. It had to be Minho’s but you wouldn’t have bet on it.

You fixed your face, your scowl reappearing, and kicked the door open with excessive force.

It was just a bar. Just him, sitting on a stool with a beer in his hand, and one other guy, standing opposite, looking at you with his eyebrows raised in the way a parent does when they catch their child doing something naughty.

“You break that door, I’m going to make you pay for it,” he said, in an accent that you knew wasn’t local.

And, just like a defiant child, you slammed it shut without breaking eye contact. He turned to Minho.

“Thanks, man. You had to bring home a fucking streetrat.”

“I am not a streetrat,” you spat.

“No?” Minho chimed in. “Then where’s your home?”

“Fuck off.”

“I really wish you would.”

You sat down in a booth just off to your left and stared him down.

“She can’t stay here,” the stranger said to Minho, as if you were no longer there.

“I didn’t bring her; she just came.”

He, the newest stranger, looked between you and Minho for several seconds. He was looking at Minho when he spoke again.

“One night. That’s it. And she’s your responsibility.”

He heaved a box full of empty glass bottles into his arms and wandered away, through a different door, mumbling something about ‘strays’.

“Who was that?” you demanded as Minho continued to sip at his beer.

You realised that you hadn’t actually been introduced to him either. And he hadn’t asked for your name. You wondered if he would now.

“None of your fucking business,” he answered, finally moving from the stool to walk behind the bar.

He opened the cash register and took bags from a cubby just below it. He produced a tiny pencil from his pocket and tore off a strip of the receipt roll. He took out the cash and started to count. You watched his lips move silently as he flicked quickly through the notes, pausing to drop a stack onto the bar and write a number down. He picked up the next stack and repeated.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned, not looking up, not even, apparently, pausing in his counting. “Even if you got your urchin mitts on it, you wouldn’t make it to the door.”

You believed him, but you weren’t planning some kind of move. You didn’t need his money. You were just watching.

You watched until all the notes and all the coins were accounted for, until they had been put into bags and those bags into a box and Minho turned to follow his friend. You stood from your seat and went after him.

There were two doors, you realised. Minho took the left. It led to an office. The other guy must’ve taken the right because the room was empty except for furniture and, in the corner, a safe. Minho dumped the box before it and turned to you.

“Turn around.”

“Worried I’ll crack the code?” you asked with your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Just turn around.”

You did as you were told without a fight because, at that point, there was nowhere else to go. You couldn’t admit defeat and walk out of there; you weren’t sure that Minho wouldn’t make you do just that. It was a knife-edge, being the obnoxious, vile brat that you were. You’d stormed past boundaries before but, well, look where it got you. You were tired and worried enough now to decide you would stop pushing your luck. It had been stretched far enough already.

There was a second of silence before you heard the beeping of the buttons pressed and the shuffling of bags, the clink of coins, the thunk of a bigger, metallic something against the walls of the safe. He didn’t tell you when he was finished, didn’t say you could turn back around. He just walked past you, out of the office, turning the light off as he went. As soon as you were out of the door, he shut and locked it.

You followed him back to the bar and he did the same thing: turned off the lights and held a door for you (not politely, not because he was being nice), following you through it and locking this one behind him, too. You walked to the end of the corridor and he gestured you down some wooden stairs that creaked as if they would break under your weight. He turned the corridor light off, too, and locked the door at the top of the steps.

This was it. You were locked in. There were at least two locks between you and escape. When Minho shoved past you to the left and opened yet another door, your stomach sank a little further. Three locked doors. He didn’t hold this one for you but he didn’t slam it in your face either, so you rolled your shoulders back, put on your game face and walked through.

You almost regretted it when you saw where it led. It was possibly the worst place you had ever seen. It wasn’t messy, but there was something dirty about the room anyway. Outdoor furniture inside; everything vaguely brown in a way that you didn’t think it had been fresh out of the box; everything tired and worn and sagging; the naked lightbulb dim and humming as it shone; the fridge, scratched and dented and shoved into a corner, also hummed, managing to sound as well as look tired. It was bleak. It was grey. It made you feel like things were crawling on you and you’d only just stepped foot in it.

You half expected your feet to stick to the floor when you took a few steps forward. They didn’t but the carpet was so old and worn that you had no idea what colour it was originally; in places, you could see the floorboards clearly through the threads.

Minho pointed to the sofa.

“There,” was all he said.

Then he disappeared out of the room. You gingerly sat on the edge, wondering if you should be more concerned about your health or your safety. Maybe you were sheltered here, but you pictured a thousand and one diseases squirming on the cushions. It wasn’t fair to, because you could see that it was cleaned. The room wasn’t filthy; there were no crumbs or water rings on the coffee table; there was no rubbish littering the floor; the sink was empty and a stack of plates and bowls stood beside it, washed if not yet dried. Minho was clearly diligent.

Minho and whoever else lived here. There were too many doors leading off this room for him to be here alone.

Your curiosity was stopped in its tracks when he reappeared with a pillow and a towel. He threw the pillow wordlessly at one end of the sofa and then he raised the towel a little.

“I don’t have any blankets. Don’t get cold.”

You scoffed a laugh and were grateful that he ignored it. You weren’t indignant; you weren’t being a brat this time. You were dismayed. You couldn’t believe it. A house with no spare blankets. You were going to sleep under a towel. You glanced around you for a final time, tears pricking in your eyes, fingers at your lips, picking nervously. You weren’t going to die here, you told yourself. Probably. You were probably not going to die here and that was all you needed.

You stood up, turned off the light, tested the door handle (not sure if you wanted it to be locked or unlocked), then returned to the sofa. You took off your shoes, took your bag from your back and hugged it tightly to your chest. You lay in the dark, in a stranger’s horrible house, alone, tired, more vulnerable than you would ever admit. You cried silently, reluctantly grateful for the towel, until you fell asleep.

SECOND

“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to everyone! Happy birthday to you!”

You only got one birthday a year. The whole group of you. There wasn’t enough to stretch to everyone getting an individual birthday, an individual cake, a day off. So the middle day of the year, 2nd July, was chosen and you all had a birthday together.

One cake, one candle each, six people blowing them out. Most unsanitary, but, by now, there wasn’t much you hadn’t shared so a little spit didn’t even register.

You were too drunk by far, which was stupid really. It wasn’t even your first time drinking legally (because your real birthday wasn’t until later in the year), so there was no reason for you to behave as if you had never had a drink before. You should have learnt a little self-control.

But it was your birthdays. So you kept having one more and one more and one more. As did everyone else.

“Nineteen!” Minho called as he fell into the booth next to you.

“I thought I was Sixteen?”

He shrugged.

“You do still act like it.”

You shoved him, almost hard enough to push him off his seat completely. He shoved you back.

“Shut up, Minnie.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, plotting death for using the nickname he loathed above all others, and you sent a simpering smile back at him.

“You’re a little squirt, anyone ever tell you that?”

You rolled your eyes.

“You, literally all the time, because you are for some reason desperate to sound like the oldest grandpa in the room.”

He let out a growling sort of cry, dramatic because he’d also had too much to drink. Then he stood.

“BYE, Sixteen!”

If someone didn’t know the two of you, it would seem as if nothing had changed in the time since you met: both antagonistic, unlikable, as hard as you could make yourselves, forced together and barely tolerating it.

Those who did know you, however, knew that things were very different now. Minho had, reluctantly, taken responsibility for you and, when you had grown up just enough to realise what that had meant, you felt all your hard resolve melt.

They had very little, this ragtag bunch of kids (barely older than you) but they shared everything between them. Never quite enough to go around, money from legitimate enterprises never stretching far enough and having to be supported by money from less than legitimate means. You were a liability. In every sense. The only girl, a stranger, certainly not (at that time) a criminal. But Minho took responsibility and the others let you in.

When you had learnt to see past your own nose, you saw the myriad ways in which they took care of each other. The silent, invisible way Minho cared for his friends. For you. You hadn’t forgotten the sting of electricity you’d felt when he held your hand way back when. Before you’d even seen him, before you knew his name, before any of this. You felt it all the time now. You were a live wire for him.

No one in the group was stupid enough to refer to you as siblings or even joke that you acted like them. Your feelings for Minho were your most closely guarded secret but that didn’t mean everyone didn’t know. You were pretty sure even Minho himself knew. Not that he would ever act on it. He pretended not to notice, you thought. You had pushed close to the edge of being kicked out enough times to know that some things were still precarious. To know that he would never risk his weird family by acknowledging there was anything more than friendship between you. If it even was between you. He had given you very little reason to believe your feelings were reciprocated. So you did your best to ignore them.

They became a fact of life. Like the fact that Minho was the only one Chan trusted to count the cash (not because the others weren’t trustworthy; they just weren’t accurate). Like the fact that Chan had the final say on everything. Like the fact that he would never abuse that authority and act for anything other than the wellbeing of the entire group. It just was.

And it wasn’t like you were stupid enough to pine. You had some pride. Plenty, in fact.

You stood from the booth and sauntered to the bar where your sometime-boyfriend, Johnny, was getting another drink.

“Babe,” you whined, draping yourself over his back, hooking your chin over his shoulder.

“Babe,” he whined back, copying, mocking.

“Entertain me, I’m bored.”

“It’s your party.”

You pouted and forced him to join you on the makeshift dancefloor. You refused to notice that Minho left it as soon as you joined, his face dropping, looking only at Johnny and never once pleased about it.

Chan had cut off the booze supply hours ago and the sun was thinking about raising its head above the horizon, which meant that, far from being wasted and happy and giddy and passing out in your bed, your hangover was already crawling in and you were tired and irritable. Johnny had pissed you off sometime before the booze dried up and then pissed off entirely before you’d begun to sober up, so you’d spent the smallest hours of the morning making your bad mood everyone else’s problem.

Everyone except Minho. Because whilst you were always determined, at these moments, to needle him, to want to get under his skin, to want to scrape it back and spit on it, he was never there. He managed to avoid your venom and, even when he didn’t, seemed immune. He would just slow-blink at you as if he were looking through you and turn away. It boiled your blood and he knew it.

You stomped downstairs to the same shithole basement you’d walked into two years ago. Everyone else had either left or gone to bed already, you thought. You expected it to be empty. It wasn’t.

“Fuck sake, Mouse,” you spat, using your usual nickname, his preferred one (… preferred being too strong a term; it was the one he allowed you to use without retaliation). “Why are you sitting on your own like a fucking loser?”

“You know he treats you like a fucking loser?”

He turned to lean over the back of the sofa, looking tired under his eyes but energetic within them.

“Fuck off,” you returned. “As if you give a shit who I date.”

“Date? That’s what you call it?” He scoffed, deliberately, exaggeratedly, as if you wouldn’t otherwise have recognised his scorn. “He treats you like dirt.”

“You would know.”

He was on his feet and in front of you before you could blink.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You’d had about enough of it, you decided at that moment. Not enough sleep, too much alcohol, and just enough of this bullshit. You grabbed the front of his T-shirt and pulled him with force towards you. You took him by the back of the neck and kissed him, hard and like you meant it. Because you did. It only took him a second to push you back, hands firm on your shoulders, holding you away from him. His face had lost his usual mask – the blank, passive, flat-eyed one that he used to stare people out with unnatural stillness – but he was still keeping you out; it was guarded, flashes in his eyes being stamped out with every blink, his jaw held tight and his mouth shut.

“That’s what I fucking mean, Minho,” you hissed.

“How dare you?” he hissed back, voice so low in his throat you almost couldn’t hear it. “You have no fucking idea.”

His blinks weren’t quick enough this time to hide all the anger burning in his eyes.

“No idea of what? What?!”

His lip curled and he let you go. He let his guard down around you more than he should have: shrugged you off and turned his back on you. You took both palms and pushed him. He tumbled forward, catching his foot on a side table, pulling it down with him as he hit the floor. Cat-like in his reflexes, he was on his feet before the table had stopped rocking. He charged straight at you and continued until you were pressed up against the door, until he was pressed up against you.

“You want a kiss?” he asked and every part of you should have been screaming yes, because you did.

You did want a kiss, but nothing about this was how you wanted it. It was a threat, not an offer. You’d been threatened with worse. You jutted your chin out a little, always standing up, never backing down.

“You going to give me one?”

His eyes flicked towards your lips, hovered there a second, like he was really thinking about it. They stayed there a little longer and doubt was picking up speed on its race to your consciousness. You thought he wouldn’t. You thought he would. You still couldn’t predict his behaviour. You thought you had him pinned and then he flipped you. You always thought you had him on the ropes, but you never really did.

You were impatient, tiring of this, doubt and insecurity and embarrassment swelling up inside you and you opened your mouth to tell him to go away, to fuck off and die, to do something vile to himself. It was at that moment that his eyes met yours again, for a split second that sent a streak of ice through your blood, and then his mouth was on yours.

You had never once looked a gift horse in the mouth, but even if you had wanted to, even if you had decided before he did it that you would push him off, return his rejection, you couldn’t possibly have done it now. His lips were soft, his hands still tight around your arms. He crowded you further against the door, your bodies pressing together as he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, asking for entry. You gave it to him. Your hands snaked up his chest and into his hair; it was softer than you’d expected, silky. For a moment, you were disarmed by it. Soft. He never let his softness show if he could help it. Only rarely. Only when he felt safe enough to let his guard down did it ever come creeping out from its hiding place. But here it was, sprouting from the top of his head. Here it was, pressed against your lips, brushing your tongue. You felt weak at the knees.

As far as kisses go, it was the best you’d had. Fire and ice fighting: goosebumps erupting on your skin as it flushed hot, making you shiver. His mouth was warm and wet and sweet and you were desperate for more, knowing that he was kissing you just right and that you weren’t doing the same. You were too eager, too greedy, too needy. This wouldn’t be enough. Couldn’t be enough. Just his lips on yours, his tongue rolling with yours, his hands still pinning your sides. You couldn’t stop here. You had to have him. All.

You whined when he pulled back, when his grip on you loosened, and you opened your eyes expecting his to be soft and liquid, to be those sweet, round boba eyes he didn’t show enough of.

They were hard and flat. He moved away from you in one, long step and back was that impassive blankness he loved so much.

“Happy fucking birthday,” he said.

He stalked off to his bedroom and shut the door.

You stayed, glued to the front door, shaking. With anger, probably. With embarrassment, maybe. With something akin to heartbreak, but you would never admit it. The roaring in your ears, the screaming of invective at both yourself and Minho in your head so loud that you didn’t hear the sound of a key in the lock, weren’t aware that someone was trying to get in until they were shoving at the door, pushing you with it.

“What the fuck?” came a quiet whine from the other side of it as he slowly pushed you away and got the door open. “Why were you trying to keep me out?”

Jisung’s hamster cheeks were full of kimbap, the other half of the roll still in his hand, and his eyes were wide with that cute, pitiful look he carried off so perfectly.

You ignored him. You stomped into your bedroom and slammed the door as hard as you could.

THIRD

Despite having your own bedroom (graciously offered up by Changbin and very ungraciously accepted by you), privacy in the small basement flat was an issue. Which is why you were huddled in the farthest corner of it, fists stuffed in your mouth, crying as quietly as you could in the dead of night.

You lived with five men, but you had not yet found someone to date who would take the threat of them seriously. They did make threats, on occasion, when they had to. Because you had not yet found a man who could treat you as anything more than shit but you had, apparently, found the least bothered and most unfazed men in the city. The one before last had barely flinched when all five of them had battered down his door to come for you, when you had finally managed to get a message out that he was keeping you there.

You never found out what happened to him. You didn’t ask and no one told you.

This one hadn’t been that bad. That was the problem. You had thought he was nice. You had thought (as you had so many times before) that he might actually be the first to treat you right.

You were wrong. So, you were crying in the corner of your room. You didn’t always cry. In fact, you didn’t often cry. Rarely, even. It meant that, when you did, the floodgates opened and you found it hard to stop. You found it almost impossible to breathe, desperately snatching air between sobs. Your head was already pounding, your face aching. It was total and complete the way it overtook you. So much so that you didn’t notice the presence of another person until they sat down beside you.

You gasped, as much as you could amongst your shaking, shallow breaths, and were only slightly comforted that it was him. He said nothing. He pulled you towards him and held you like that until the storm had passed.

You continued to sit in silence as your tears dried on your face, as your heartrate settled and your breathing became even. He didn’t make a move to let you go and you didn’t make one either. You were tired. You were sad. You were, though you wouldn’t admit it, a little bit heartbroken. This bit of comfort was exactly what you wanted.

You didn’t want him to say anything. You didn’t want to hear it. That you’d done it again. That you’d never learn. That, somehow, you were gullible and easy to fool despite the fact that you had been hardening yourself against vulnerability of every kind since you were a child. That men just found a way to get beyond your defences—that bad men found a way. The good ones didn’t find you at all.

“His loss,” was what he said.

You lifted your head, tears still clinging to your lashes, drying on your cheeks. He had that look on his face that he saved for you: the soft, sweet one he gave you when you’d earnt it or when you needed it. The one that made your insides curdle, that even now made your heart skip a beat, that you wanted to fall into forever, that had sealed your fate so many years ago now. He blinked slowly at you, cat-like as always, and brushed your hair from your face.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came. Your voice was trapped in your throat because he was still looking at you like that but his eyes kept flicking down, then back up, then down again at longer and longer intervals until he closed them completely and brought his lips to yours.

You didn’t have to think twice. Didn’t have to think at all. Your body did the thinking for you. Your hands pushed into his hair and your legs pushed you up so you could slot them down either side of his hips. His hands found your waist and then the soft skin on the other side of your t-shirt.

This was nothing like the first time. You remembered it all too well: the electricity, the anger, the volcano of feelings you’d tried to suppress rumbling and threatening to erupt, to blow the lid off the equilibrium you’d found. The hunger, the desperation, your own neediness spoiling it all.

You weren’t desperate anymore, for his approval, for his love, for whatever he would give you. You wanted it all, would lay yourself on the floor and kiss his feet if he asked, with no hesitation, but you always knew he wouldn’t ask. You’d got used to that.

Except now he was kissing you – he had kissed you – and his hands were squeezing at your waist and it was slow. Controlled. Deliberate. There was nothing accidental about the way his tongue rolled over yours, the way his teeth bit at your bottom lip, the way his hands pulled you lower on his lap, pulled you closer to him until there wasn’t so much as a breath of air between you.

“Mouse,” you murmured, quietly into his mouth.

He shook his head minutely, a tiny hum swallowed by you when he pressed your lips together again. No talking. Fine. You didn’t need to talk. If he kept kissing you, kept touching you, you wouldn’t need to utter another word again. But you couldn’t stop the little gasp when he sank his teeth into the sensitive skin of your neck, the moan rising in your throat when he ran his tongue over the same spot, hurting then soothing. Like always.

It made your brain turn fuzzy, static wavering in your mind, as all your conscious thoughts turned to liquid, melting into Minho’s mouth, swallowed down by him, eaten whole.

Then the front door slammed hard.

“Guys!” Chan shouted, in a way that he never did.

You heard him pounding on doors, opening them, starting with Changbin and Hyunjin’s on the right.

You sprang apart like two north magnets, instinctively repelled by one another, just in time for Chan to burst through the door and scan the room for you, too wired, too stressed to register that it might have been weird for you to be sitting on the floor like you were, certainly not noticing your kiss-bitten lips or heavy breathing or the way Minho’s hair was ruffled like it had just had a fist in it.

“We’ve got to go,” Chan announced. “Like, right fucking now.”

FOURTH

No one wanted to up the ante. No one wanted to start getting involved with the organised crime lot. Your crime was… disorganised. It was local. It was just you doing the things you needed to, skirting around the law to survive. It wasn’t really crime, not if you squinted hard enough. Then the police raided the bar (which was illegal in pretty much every way that mattered) and you had nowhere left to go.

There was just enough of the trust your parents left you (which you got access to at 21) to secure a new apartment (one that was not underground) and a small buy-in with a group of much larger, older, more experienced criminals. There was very little else you could’ve done at that point. Or so you all told yourselves.

The apartment was an upgrade in every way but size. It was newer and above-ground which meant it stayed warm and didn’t get damp. It had windows which let the sun in. It had enough room for two sofas so everyone could sit comfortably. It had a gas hob which really only Chan and Minho cared about, but they cared a lot. It had two bathrooms with reliably hot water and good pressure. It did not get power cuts. It did not always smell musty. It was not brown and beige and grey. But it did have fewer rooms to be parcelled out between you all.

The last one had four rooms that served as bedrooms. This had three. Between six. There had been furious arguments and endless straw-pulling and no one was happy with the results. It took a few weeks but eventually things shook out as they always should have.

You shared with Minho because he was the only one who was willing. You both had reputations for being scary (in totally opposite ways: you the raging bull to his still, fathomless water); you loved to take your bad moods out on one another; he was the only one you ever willingly let see you when you were sad and small and vulnerable. Besides which, no one else would dare try to take the space at your side from him. So you shared a bedroom: two twin beds on opposite sides of the room, because Minho refused to sleep in a bunk bed and you refused to sleep together in a double. There was little room for anything else.

You complained about the sleeping arrangements almost daily. You loved the hot water and the sunlight and the not-mouldiness of the apartment, but some days, you couldn’t bear the way you couldn’t get away from Minho.

You’d thought you had it bad. This was even worse.

Four days. Four days, so far, staying (squatting) in a vile, empty, dilapidated villa apartment, staring out of a window, waiting for something to happen. Just you and Minho and one room. For four days and counting.

It was Minho’s turn to watch and he sat at the monitor, diligent, hard-working, as always, whilst you were supposed to be catching up on sleep. Instead, you were lying on what passed for a bed, tossing an apple into the air and catching it, over and over and-

“You going to stop that?” Minho asked, with his trademark tone: both light and threatening.

“Nope!”

“Want me to make you?”

You flicked your eyes over to him: he was studying the monitor seriously, but you were sure he had been looking at you.

You hadn’t spoken about that night. Partly because you hadn’t had the time. You’d jumped up from the floor of your bedroom, grabbed as much stuff as you could fit in the first bag you could find and the six of you had legged it, making it out just in time to watch the police cars roll up and trash the place.

“There was so much fucking money in that safe,” Chan had said, plaintively, staring at the sky. That was when you’d offered up yours.

You had had to find somewhere to live, and fast. You’d all had to find jobs, something to do, some way to make money that wasn’t connected to the bar. You had been passing like ships in the night, meeting only to argue about shower time and sleeping arrangements. Then Changbin had come home with a suggestion. You’d argued about that, too, but in the end, it was unanimous. Go in with the bigger boys or – well, there was no ‘or’. That was the point.

So you and Minho were working recon. You’d pulled the short straw in more ways than one. It was the longest you had spent together. Ever. Confined for days in this space.

On the first day, he refused to talk to you at all.

On the second, you made everything into an argument because at least you could get a rise out of him.

On the third, he had seemed to thaw. Something had softened and you talked, like friends, like you used to. You laughed and joked and it wasn’t so bad.

Now it was the fourth day and that ice had returned. He had frozen over, doubled-down on silence. No sooner had you had warmed up than he was giving you frostbite, chilblains. Whiplash. Those ten words were the first he’d spoken to you all day.

“No,” you answered. “I don’t want you to make me.”

You paused, wondering if the words you were considering were a sign that you were going mad, that being cooped up in this space had sent you a little doolally. The unbearable nothingness of your days passing like sludge forcing all those hidden thoughts forward, with nothing to distract you from them. The words were certainly risky, but Minho had shown his hand. He had kissed you. Like he meant it. And you knew he would’ve continued to kiss you had Chan not interrupted. He’d have continued to do a whole lot more than just kiss you.

And you were bored.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said plainly, catching the apple in front of your face and turning to look at him.

He was still studying the monitor. Nothing on his face gave anything away: surprise, disgust, lust, laughter. Nothing. You were used to that.

“We’re on a job.”

“Yeah, and it’s boring and nothing is happening and who fucking cares? I would rather have sex.”

He sighed and rolled his head to look at you.

“Really, Sixteen? Now is the time you want to bring this up?”

“Stop calling me Sixteen.”

“I always call you Sixteen.”

“You always call me Sixteen when you want to put me in my place or make me feel like a child. I’m not a fucking child anymore.”

“I know you aren’t.”

“Then why won’t you fuck me?”

He laughed and your blood began to simmer.

“There’s more that I look for than just ‘is not a child’.”

“Don’t try to act like you don’t want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to.”

“Well then, shall we?”

He smirked and the glint in his eye was new to you.

“We’re on a job.”

“Stop saying that!” you cried, stalking the three steps from your side of the room to his.

You manoeuvred yourself into his lap, blocking the monitor from his view, and took his face in your hands.

“We’re on a job and nothing is happening and nothing will continue to happen for ages yet, so why don’t we make it a little less fucking boring?”

You knew he wanted to. Could see his pupils dilate. Watched his eyes flick to your lips and your chest and back up. This might have been all he wanted: sex and nothing more. You didn’t know. Weren’t interested in having that conversation. Were convinced that it didn’t matter either way. If he only wanted sex, you would give it. Give it until it was too late and he was in too deep to come back out. Hadn’t worked before but there was a first time for everything.

But even that was beside the point. You were desperately bored and bored of being desperate for him and there was one stone that would kill both those birds.

“Mouse,” you said quietly, keeping your voice low, as you placed a kiss on his jaw, as you spread your knees a little wider, sinking lower into his lap. “Come on.”

His hands were on your thighs, neither encouraging nor discouraging, just holding tight. He didn’t respond as you continued to press kisses to his face, to his neck, grinding your hips over him slowly. You could feel his pulse beat fast, noticed the way his breathing was getting heavier, his fingers dipping deeper into your skin, until it hurt. Until he stopped pretending he was going to continue to work, stopped pretending that he could resist you.

“Fuck,” he gasped, his voice hoarse.

He gripped the hair at the back of your head and pulled you from his neck, tumbling you both to the floor. You didn’t want it to be fast, but you’d take it any way he’d give it. So when his hands pulled at your t-shirt, you let him take it off as you unclasped your bra. He didn’t give you time to fumble with the hem of his top, to discard it for him; he dipped his head straight down, swirling your nipple with his tongue, sucking it into his mouth; he rested his weight on one elbow and his other hand descended. You were grateful you had no buttons, no zips to contend with, just the loose, elasticated band of a pair of leggings that had seen better days. Minho’s fingers slipped beneath it and he circled his fingers around your clit, the fabric of your underwear dulling the sensation only slightly.

This was moving even faster than you’d expected but you’d been waiting so long already. Blood rushed to the surface of your skin and your breath began to shudder. Underwear now pushed to the side, you gasped when Minho ran a finger through your folds, shivered when he moaned at what he found there. He brought his lips back to yours but you turned away to let his name drop from your open mouth.

“Mouse...”

“Shut up,” he said firmly as he sank two fingers into your slick cunt and stole your breath with another kiss.

You couldn’t talk but you could moan. Could whine. Could whimper as his fingers moved inside you, as he ground his palm against your clit, as he made your thighs twitch and walls spasm. You tried not to lose your mind completely, to stay grounded, to stay present now that this was finally, really, actually happening. You reached your own hands down to Minho’s trousers; he hadn’t got the no-buttons, no-zips memo and your fingers fumbled with both. They shook with adrenalin as you popped the button through the hole and dragged the metal zip down. You pushed them away from you, off his hips, and had one hand in his boxers when the crackle of the walkie-talkie cut through Minho’s moan.

You both froze.

“Minho? What’s happening? Chan said they’re on the move?”

You glanced at each other, for one more frozen second, and then the world lurched into overdrive. Minho clambered to the monitor with his trousers around his ankles and, as soon as he saw the screen, started swearing viciously, tugging at his clothes and throwing your t-shirt back at you.

“What’s happening?” you asked, breathless for all the wrong reasons now.

“They’re clearing out,” Minho reported into the walkie-talkie, ignoring you but answering your question anyway. “Two loads have left, a third on its way.”

“Shit! How did you miss it? What the fuck were you doing?”

“Nothing! We lost the feed for a minute but it came back quickly and then they were already moving.”

He shot you a glance, something between panicked plea and angry admonishment. It wasn’t often he was caught on the hop, wasn’t ever. You, however, were used to being on the wrong side of things, so you re-dressed quickly and had already started packing your shit up. No matter how sideways this went, you could take two positives from it. One, you wouldn’t have to stay locked up here with Minho any longer. Two, he definitely, definitely wanted to fuck you.

FIFTH

You still hadn’t talked about it. You continued to share a bedroom, sleep there every night, wake there every morning but you had not once discussed the twice now that you had almost had sex. You were waiting for him to bring it up, even though you knew he never would. He wasn’t a coward, not ever, but if there was one word to describe him it was loyal and you knew he would protect your group with his life. And that also meant not pursuing whatever it was that was between you. Because it was a risk. It could jeopardise the stability of what you had established—what Chan had established long before you ever came into the picture.

But you were digging your heels in this time. You’d already come on too strong. Your pride was being wounded with each day that passed, with each day that he continued to pass you up. You’d crack first. You knew you would. You always did. Minho was unbreakable. You weren’t. But you wanted to pretend, for at least a little while, that you could be. That you could be impenetrable, too.

“Shit shit shit shit shit,” Junho repeated as he slammed into the car, instructing Minho to drive before the door was even shut.

Minho didn’t need telling twice.

“Where to?”

“Safe house,” he gasped, ragged breathing setting your teeth on edge.

You didn’t ask what had happened. What had gone wrong. That didn’t matter as much as getting out. Getting Junho out. You were disposable, still. You knew that. Even Minho. You were runts; you also still had something to make up for given what happened on your last assignment. So you travelled in silence. Junho in the back, breathing heavily; you didn’t turn around to see if he was ok. You didn’t want to know. You assumed he wasn’t but as long as you could hear him breathing, you knew he was alive.

Minho was facing forward, eyes scanning the roads ahead, reflexes allowing him to run red lights without accident – in this part of the city, no one would stop a flashy car like this for speeding, for driving recklessly. That was what they all did. His jaw was tense, eyes tight. He looked calm but you could see his little legs kicking under the water. You knew him well enough by now.

You didn’t keep your eyes on the road. You kept them on him. Felt like someone needed to be watching out for him, too – not that there was anything you could have done to be helpful anyway. There were always two in the getaway car. That was the rule and you didn’t ask why because you didn’t want to know the answer.

As a teen, you had thought you knew everything. You were old enough now to know not only that you knew nothing but also that you preferred it that way. Need to know basis. For everything. All the time.

Minho slowed, driving more carefully as the car left the city, winding across hills, negotiating turns that you’d have driven straight over, plummeting you all to a miserable death. He turned the headlights off at the mile marker he’d been told about, one that you’d already forgotten, and crawled, slower still, up to the house, blanketed in darkness, hidden by an overgrown and untended garden.

Junho grunted.

“Thanks. Wait until I give the signal then get the fuck out of here. Do not go anywhere you’ve ever met with us. Ditch the car when you can; destroy the plates.”

He didn’t wait for a response. You watched him stagger away and then waited until the light in the top right room flicked on and off and on and off again.

Minho put the car in reverse and slowly backed out. At a further mile marker, he turned the lights on. He continued to climb, driving away from the city still, until the car reached the top of the hill. The lights from the city were so bright you almost didn’t need the headlights at all. It didn’t feel a safe place to stop. Too visible.

Then Minho slowly and quietly backed the car into nook on the hillside. No doubt worn away from years of cars trying to pass each other on the narrow road, it barely contained the car, but it put it in some shadow and no one would hit you.

He turned the engine off and let his hands fall to his lap. His head tipped back against the headrest and he sighed.

“You ok?”

You asked him all the time and he never gave a serious answer because he always was. And if he wasn’t, he certainly wasn’t going to talk about it. But you asked all the same.

He nodded then turned to you.

“You?”

You laughed nervously, suddenly feeling the last twenty minutes as the adrenalin began to drain.

“Kind of feel like I could hurl.”

He laughed too and nodded again.

“I feel like I want to sleep for a thousand years but also like I could run a marathon,” you continued.

“I feel half-dead already but also fucking invincible.”

He held his hand out and it trembled. You clasped it between yours and held it tight. He smiled; from where you were sitting, it looked like a smirk, but then he turned more fully towards you and it wasn’t. It was sweet. His eyes were gleaming. Your mouth dried.

“Half-dead, huh?” And you knew you were going to say it. You always knew you would be the one with which it would raise its head. “How about a little dead? A little death, even?”

“Sixteen…”

His voice had that warning tone to it but the gleam in his eyes remained and you’d broken the seal now. Were going to push this as far as he’d let you.

“Mouse…”

You saw him waver. Absolutely, definitely, were certain that he was considering it. Until a car came over the crest of the hill and its headlights flashed in at you; at the same moment, Minho’s phone buzzed from the cup holder it had been thrown in. You jumped. He jumped. Whatever moment there had been was gone now.

Minho took his hand from your grasp and checked his phone. Then he put the car in gear.

“We’ve got to get out of here.”

You expected it to be quick. Expected it to be simple. It turned out to be neither. You had managed to destroy the plates and were very near clear of the car you’d now abandoned when you, once again, found trouble (‘why did it always have to be you?’ you had asked yourself fleetingly as Minho shoved you towards your own piece of shit car that had been waiting for your getaway; he had not waited for you to be fully seated or your door to be closed before he slammed a foot on the accelerator and squealed off). The two of you were screaming around corners, tearing out of the city in whichever direction provided the easiest escape. With the headlights off and the city lights streaming into the distance, you could barely see the road in front of you, had no idea how Minho was still driving straight. You trusted him with your life and it was just as well, because it was in his hands. His, yours, and potentially everyone else’s, too.

The summer sun was minutes away from popping its head above the horizon when you were finally able to return home.

You sat in silence for a few moments. You had moved beyond exhaustion into this kind of frayed, wired alertness. You felt your eyelids dropping even as your heart still hammered. Minho’s hand found yours.

“Mouse,” you said, letting the rest of it fall away unspoken.

“Yeah,” he replied but you didn’t know if that was his answer. “Just give me a minute.”

You were too tired to argue so you let silence fall again. You were almost dropping off, head just beginning to nod, when he tugged on your hand.

“Come here.”

You turned. You leant. His other hand cupped the back of your head and pulled you closer. He kissed you. Electricity crackled and a surge of energy rushed through you. It was happening again. He was kissing you. You couldn’t let this time pass by.

You scrambled in your chair, forgetting to undo your seatbelt, being pulled back by it and swearing coarsely when your lips broke from his. You clambered over the gearstick and the handbrake and fell with one foot heavily in the footwell as Minho slid his seat all the way back. You didn’t have time to care about the jarring in your knee or the bump on your head as it hit the roof. Could barely feel it. Didn’t matter.

Well, it didn’t matter until it did. Until there wasn’t really room enough for you to straddle him. Until you were pressing yourself up against the roof so there would be room for him to get his hands to his belt. Until you lost your balance and fell backwards, landing with bump on the steering wheel, which blared out into the dark dawn street.

“Fucking hell,” Minho muttered. “Get in the back.”

More willingly than you ever had, you did as you were told. He moved his seat forward again, all the way, and you watched him climb through to you, hands reaching for him. It was no less awkward. Not enough room to lie down. Still not enough height to sit. Not space enough between the back and front to kneel. It was messy and uncoordinated, grabbing for anything, taking what you could get, knocking into the window and falling off the seat, kicking and elbowing each other in a tangle.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Minho roared, in an uncharacteristic display of frustration. “No use. Not happening.”

He sat back and sighed, trousers undone but still around his hips. He pushed his hands through his hair and you tried to settle demurely next to him, smoothing your own hair, zipping up your jeans, swallowing hard as you fought to accept that he was right. It was not happening. Not here. Not now.

You stared through the car window and were sure you could’ve punched straight through it. You wanted to. It was the window, Minho, or yourself. Couldn’t effectively punch yourself. Knew you wouldn’t dare hit your mouse. Your fingernails pressed sharply into your palm as you squeezed your fists tightly.

A hand covered yours. Gentle. You looked at Minho and there he was: your secret, soft guy. You unfurled your fingers and he linked them with his own.

“Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s just go home.”

FIRST

You tramped into the apartment, bringing your bad mood with you. Everyone was sick of it by now – you were sick of it, but you couldn’t shake it.

Minho was avoiding you. That much was clear. He had been avoiding you since you tried and failed to fuck in the car. You didn’t know why because you didn’t care. You had reached the end of your tether with the universe. Three times now. But still no cigar. You wondered – asked yourself a hundred times a day – what it was going to take to make this happen.

Frustrated didn’t even begin to cover it. You could go out and hook up with whoever you liked. You could get yourself off just fine. But it ran so much deeper than that. If you pulled at the thread, it tugged on your heartstrings, all tangled up in knots. It hurt. It pulled at something so deeply interwoven with your very being; all anyone had to do was follow it to its source and they could destroy you. All anyone had to do was cut it and they’d cut you, too.

You didn’t like that. Hated it, in fact. Hated that all this tugging and wiggling had opened up a hole and you could feel your vulnerability exposed. You could feel weakness leaking out of you, seeping from your pores, visible to the naked eye, for anyone to see.

It made you bitter. Made you angry. Made you lash out even when you shouldn’t have. Because you were always on the defensive. Even now. Especially now.

You knew the others were talking about you. About Minho. About the two of you. Knew it from the awkward silences when you walked in a room and the furtive glances and the group chat that had grown curiously quiet, leaving you to assume that there was a separate one you weren’t a part of.

You were beginning to lose your patience and you were not starting with a plentiful supply.

You lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to calm your rage. You had woken with it, just like every other day this week, and it would not leave you. You breathed slowly and carefully and tried to think of difficult and boring things.

You thought only of Minho.

Then he opened the door. He hesitated – you could feel him standing there, assessing – and then shut it, leaving you alone. As the door clicked, you felt that tug. You felt the knots tighten, so impossibly tight now that the joins weren’t even visible. You jumped up and threw yourself through the door.

“Stop fucking ignoring me!”

You hadn’t meant to shout.

Minho turned and looked at you. His stillness enraged you further. He didn’t say anything.

“Are you going to fucking say anything?!”

“What do you want me to say?”

“ANYTHING! You haven’t spoken to me for weeks! You literally walk out of rooms if I’m in them! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You think this is easy?”

His voice was cold and sharp as steel. His head cocked lightly to the side and his eyes narrowed, peering at you, looking inside you.

“You think I want it to be like this?-”

“I don’t know what you fucking want!”

His nostrils flared. This delighted you. He was annoyed and you loved it.

“Not once,” you continued, still shouting because you couldn’t rein it in, “have you ever fucking told me. Not once have you ever actually said what you want! That you want me. Do you? Fucking do you? Because I don’t fucking know anymore! Every time we get close, you get further away from me! I’m not a fucking yo-yo, Minho. You can’t play with me-”

“Play with you? You think I’m playing? What part of this is a game?”

His voice was rising now, too, his perfectly blank mask slipping.

“It’s never been a game, Sixteen! Not once in the entire time since we met has it been a game! How are you still not getting it? Junho almost fucking died and if he had, it would have been our fault! We all almost ended up in prison because of the fucking bar. The night we met you almost got yourself trafficked! It’s not a game! You act like life is so fucking simple! It’s not!”

“IT IS! It can be that fucking simple! Stop overthinking! Stop taking everything so fucking seriously!-”

“It is serious! That’s what you don’t get!”

He was close now, had been inching closer and closer, and he was looking down at you, his eyes black as pitch, his jaw tight, his breath struggling through clenched teeth.

“You don’t get it and you never have.”

His voice was quiet, back to that steel that sent a chill down your spine.

“Everywhere you go, I look out for you. Everywhere you are, I am responsible for you. It’s been nine fucking years, Sixteen, and you are everywhere I go.”

Your vision tunnelled, stomach fell to your feet. You had to look away and hated yourself for it. You never flinched. You never backed down. You were never the first to retreat. Except for him. You couldn’t bear to look in his eyes, to see what loathing and disdain they held for you. Your embarrassment was on your cheeks already and pricking in your eyes.

Then his nose nudged yours and he took more steps forward. He pushed you slowly against the wall and you cursed yourself for retreating to it.

“You are in my life and in my bedroom and in my fucking head,” he whispered. “All the time. All the fucking time. And I haven’t been able to do shit about it because you are my job. You are mine to protect. Everyone knows it. Everyone knows I would burn this place to the ground for you. I would scorch the earth. I would drain the sea. For you. Don’t you get it? When it comes to you, I’m a fucking liability.”

You risked it. A glance. Lifted your eyes for less than a second but you had to do it again. Had to stop there, be sure you were really seeing what you thought you were.

Soft, round, liquid eyes. An openness in his face that he hadn��t let you into before. His mouth was still a grim line, turned down at the corners so slightly, had it been anyone but you, it would have gone unnoticed.

“Mouse...”

You tried to whisper but could barely manage that, his name creeping out on a hoarse gasp.

He moved his face closer to yours, lips almost touching.

“Don’t you get it?” he repeated.

You got it. Because everything he said was true for you, too. You’d started out as a liability, for sure, but you had continued to be one because Minho was your north star. Not Chan. Not the group. Not whatever sense of purpose you might have derived from the life you had cobbled together. If he said jump, you wouldn’t ask a thing. You would jump. You’d been following him since day one and, then, it might have been desperation, a lack of options. Now... well, there was still desperation: a desperate need for him, a desperate desire to be wanted by him, kissed by him, touched by him. You had other options. Options you would never take, not as long as he existed. You would stop existing before you ever thought of leaving him.

You nodded, feeling more like a foolish, vulnerable 16-year-old than you had when you were foolish and vulnerable and 16.

He sighed, breath sweet with the pudding he could never resist, and you were closing your eyes, tilting your chin up, expecting him to give in.

He turned away. You watched him, mouth agape in disbelief, as he pushed his hands through his hair.

“FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” you screamed, bringing your hands down on his back in something that was half-shove, half-slap.

He had whipped around before you could lower your arms and you found your wrists caught in his hands.

“You don’t fucking stop, do you?” he hissed.

“Why would I stop?! I don’t want to stop, Minho! And nor do you! You can’t say you don’t! Because I KNOW. I KNOW you want it. I know you want me. And I’m fucking throwing myself at you. Take me! TAKE ME!”

His eyes were hard and dark. His fingers pushed so tightly into your wrists that you could feel your pulse against them. He was breathing heavily, nostrils flaring but lips shut tight, pressed together in a thin line.

“Take. Me,” you repeated, level and firm, not sure if he would, but sure that, if he didn’t, things would never be the same again.

You couldn’t do this a fourth time. Couldn’t put yourself in his hands, have him take you, and then... Not. And then stop. And then act as if you didn’t exist. That thread between you, tied up in your heartstrings, was taut, stretched, at its limit. And so were you.

The pause was painful. Excruciatingly long. Adrenalin coursed through you, making you hot, making you shake, making your heart beat so hard against your ribs you thought they might break. Thought your heart might break. Hadn’t been willing to admit how fragile it was but it felt like venetian glass now. You could already feel the cracks forming, the web extending, the shards-

He kissed you. Pulled you roughly towards him by your wrists and kissed you. Put his hands on your hips, then slid them under your top, and still kissed you. He was kissing you. It took a few seconds to slip back into your body, to feel it, the soft petal of his lips against yours, the sharp bite of his teeth, the wet warmth of his tongue. You forgot your shattering heart and grabbed his T-shirt, using it to pull him closer, to drag him into your shared bedroom.

Not that he needed dragging. You stumbled over each other’s feet as you tried to kiss and walk and grope all at once. You tumbled backwards onto his bed and took the brief separation as an opportunity to lose your top, to unclasp your bra. Your hands were in the waistband of your joggers when Minho climbed over you, topless now too, breathless as he mirrored your actions, pushing his trousers and his boxers over his hips. He huffed a frustrated sigh as you giggled, as he stood back up to take them all the way off, to kick them off his ankles and take yours away, too.

He didn’t give you time for admiration, for appraisal. He lay his body over you and his lips pressed against yours, quickly, firmly, before trailing them across your jaw and down your neck. He was every bit as vicious as you thought he would be, teeth nipping at your sensitive skin, sinking into your soft flesh. You wanted him to mark you, wanted the proof of it to last. You scraped your nails down his back and he hissed when you broke the skin. Hissed but didn’t complain. Hissed and moved his mouth lower, swirling his tongue around your nipple, sinking his teeth into that, too.

When you tugged on his hair, he pulled off, looked at you, his face an open question. You shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you panted. “I like it. I just want to pull your hair.”

He laughed and clamped his teeth over your breast again, harder this time, so you keened and your back arched into him. You twisted his roots in your fist and he moaned, eyes flicking up to yours as he kissed across the valley of your chest.

“Do that again.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, tipping your head back, doing as he had asked and tugging hard.

The ache you felt for him had ballooned inside you, taken up all your hollow spaces. There was your flushed skin and your fluttering heart, your rushing blood and your deep, persistent ache for Minho. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Mouse,” you whispered, voice tight with desire. “Touch me, please.”

You never asked. You didn’t beg. If you liked a guy, you let them do what they wanted with you, and if you didn’t, you took what you wanted. It was always one-sided.

But this wasn’t. It was Minho. It was the fathomless depth in his eyes as he lay his mouth all over you. It was the slip of his fingers through your soaked folds as he sucked sweet bruises against your neck. It was the sound of a moan caught in his throat when you wrapped your fingers around his hard, leaking length. It was mutual. It was reciprocated.

It was burning you up, hotter and sweeter than you’d ever felt before. His fingers sinking into your core made you shudder with delight. The twitch in his cock as you brushed your thumb over his head made your mouth water. The sound of his mumbled sweet nothings pressed against your skin, whispered in your ear, licked straight into your mouth, made you dizzy.

“So soft,” he said. “So wet... Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful... I’ve wanted this for so long... Wanted you...”

He used your name, your real one, the one he didn’t learn (didn’t ask for) for months after you met. You returned the favour, ‘Minho’ tripping from your lips, until he shook his head.

“Mouse,” he murmured, mouth still pressed against yours. “‘Mouse’ is yours.”

“Mouse,” you echoed and he nodded before kissing you so that you could say nothing at all.

You barely spoke, couldn’t catch your breath enough to form the words, couldn’t engage your faculties to find any to say. Minho spoke, though, more than you had ever heard him speak: praise and exclamation and remembrance and, yes, even admonition, but it was all so sweet, syrupy, dripping from his tongue like honey. You’d never heard him speak like this before, never had him melt in your hands or in your mouth, never felt him as easy and pliable as this.

It wasn’t just his body. It wasn’t just the perfect smoothness of his warm, soft skin. It wasn’t just the stretch, the fullness, he made inside you, the insistent rhythm of his hips thrusting his cock tightly into your slick, waiting warmth. It wasn’t just his wet, sugary mouth, at your lips, at your jaw, at your clavicle. It wasn’t just all these things he was doing to you, all the things you were doing to him.

It was his open eyes, round and shining and fluttering closed as your walls clenched around him. It was the tenderness in them, the depth he was letting you see, for more than just seconds at a time. It was the gentle tracing of your face with his fingers, even as he fucked into you, even as his teeth drew blood beneath your skin. It was Minho, the entirety of him. Yours. Finally yours. Finally giving in to you, giving himself to you.

You got it. You had said you did and you had, but now, beneath him in his bed as he loved you, you actually understood the magnitude of it. His feelings for you. Yours for him. Held back behind a dam for so many years and now, the dam had broken. Now came the deluge that would flood the world, could drown everyone in it.

To hell with them, you thought. To hell with anyone else. You found what you needed almost a decade ago. He found you. You found each other, somehow, by some miracle.

When the pleasure swelled up in your core, toes curling, back breaking, you cried out with all the breath you had in your lungs, felt tears sting in your eyes, and the following inhale wobbled and shook. Minho paused, pressed his forehead against yours, kissed you lightly, didn’t have to ask the question out loud.

You nodded and kissed him again, then again, each time hungrier than the last. You didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want to feel anything but this, but him. He moved slower now, though, hips rolling smoothly, lips not leaving yours, even when he spoke, even when he murmured how fucking good you felt, how much better than he’d imagined, how hard he was trying not to come, how he didn’t want this to end.

You couldn’t take it. Thought you really would cry, thought you would collapse entirely under his weight, under the weight of everything you’d been carrying around, all these feelings: all this love and fear and frustration. He pushed you to the edge again without even trying, your red thread thoroughly tangled, inseparable now, and pulling a greater ecstasy from you than you had ever known.

He couldn’t hold out either, his final, sharp thrusts filling you with his sticky release. You held him there, as close as he could be. He kissed you, so light it was barely there, his fingers grazing your face as he pushed the hair from your brow.

“Mouse,” you choked, tears threatening your waterline.

He kissed you again, that little butterfly kiss; you’d never seen him be this gentle.

“Sixteen,” he whispered and, for possibly the first time, it didn’t sound like disdain, didn’t come accompanied by a smirk or an eye-roll; it was hushed and secret and just for you.

As it had always been.

You lay on his chest, bodies pressed together in the small, single bed, as they would have been even if the bed were bigger.

“I want some water,” he said, lips against your forehead before he manoeuvred himself out from underneath you. “Want a drink?”

You nodded and he smiled down at you as he fetched clean underwear and pulled a T-shirt over his head.

You watched him go, watched him open the door, and then heard the sound of party poppers, whoops, and applause.

The apartment was empty. Had been empty when you entered your bedroom. In the midst of everything, you had failed to notice the gang return home. They had not failed to notice you and Minho.

“Fucking finally!”

“You mean, they finally fucked?”

Laughter resounded from the living room. Minho turned around, closed the door, and climbed back into bed without a word.

#skz fanfic #skz smut #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lino x reader #lino fic #lino smut #minho x reader #lee minho #minho fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #lee minho fanfic

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sluttywonwoo · 8 months

Text

instead of you [part twenty-six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, angst, smut (mdni)

word count: 5.1k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

additional smut warnings: oral (f receiving), protected sex, multiple orgasms

The silence that followed your admission was excruciating. You wished you knew what Minho was thinking. He was impossible to read, aside from the evident anger written all over his face. His body language didn’t give much away either. He was closed off, arms folded across his chest, chin raised just slightly.

“So who are you then?” he demanded, tone even despite being the exact opposite mere moments ago.

“What?”

“Who are you? Are you just some girl that Jisung is using?”

“What the fuck, no!”

“Why are you acting like that’s some outrageous possibility? I just found out you’ve been lying to everyone all summer!”

“I’ve been Jisung’s best friend for like four years now, I’m all over his Instagram! Felix came to visit us and we all hung out, there are pictures of that too. I can’t believe you’d think I’m some random person!”

“You’ll have to forgive me for not thinking completely rationally right now!” he spat. “Why the hell would Jisung lie about- why would he say he had a girlfriend if he didn’t?”

“It’s a long story,” you mumbled with a sigh. “But we really don’t have time to get into that right now. I came up here because I was supposed to bring you back to the room.”

Minho made a face. “What, why?”

“Your cousins called.”

The shift in his demeanor was immediate. He visibly perked up, but only briefly, before seeming to remember the conversation he was having. “Jeongin and Yoon?”

“Yeah. Everyone else is on FaceTime with them right now. I told everyone I’d come to get you so that none of them would have to miss out on talking to him,” you explained. “So we should probably get going because I don’t know how long he has to chat.”

“Fine,” Minho surrendered easily, “but we’re not done talking about this.”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” you sighed again, still feeling nauseous. With everything that had already happened, you knew there was no way that this could end well. But now, now that one person knew it was all a lie, you were fucked. “Just… don’t tell anyone, please?”

He pursed his lips but nodded. “You sure have a lot of secrets to keep track of, don’t you?”

It was meant to sting, and it did, but you didn’t let him see the crack in the glass.

“I could say the same for you.”

You slipped into your room as soon as you got back to the penthouse, not wanting to face any of the other Hans, especially not your best friend. You collapsed onto the bed with a muffled scream into your pillow.

You expected yourself to start crying, but the tears didn’t come. They wouldn’t come. The initial panic had been replaced with numbness. Apathy personified, you could feel it spreading from your heart out through your veins, creating a tingling sensation that reached the very tips of your fingers.

You had to tell Jisung, right? He’d understand… probably. You hadn’t told Minho. He figured it out on his own. Yeah, you should tell Jisung and then you could also come clean about… everything else. Maybe. But maybe you could also take it to your grave since it seemed like any possibility of you and Minho becoming an item, whatever that implied, was out of the question now. You knew he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore. Not after tonight. You couldn’t erase his look of betrayal from your mind no matter how hard you tried.

Just how many people were you hurting by merely being on this trip? There was no way to know for sure, not that knowing would make you feel any less guilty.

Maybe it was better not to tell Jisung. Maybe you could pretend like everything was fine, and then it would be. But that was what had gotten you in trouble in the first place.

You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep until you woke up with a jolt some hours later. The room was dark. The lamp had been switched off and the blinds were shut. Jisung was snoring softly beside you. He was tucked under the covers while you were still laying on top of them.

You rolled over and felt for your phone, finding it underneath your pillow. You were surprised to see that you had missed a text from Minho. It was from an hour and a half ago and just said can you meet me in room 422?

You weren’t sure if he would still be waiting there since it had been so long since he sent the message, but you responded with a tentative sure and quietly snuck out of your bedroom. You hoped Jisung wouldn’t wake up before you returned. Having to explain where you were or why you were there would only complicate things. You still hadn’t decided whether or not to tell him… anything. You needed more time to think things through. At least, that’s the excuse you told yourself.

The fourth floor was eerily quiet, reminding you of how late it was. Stepping off the elevator into the hallway felt like a mistake, like you were trespassing on private property. Minho hadn’t replied to your text so you didn’t know if he was still awake, but you knocked at the door anyway. He answered after the second knock.

“There you are,” he said and stepped aside to let you in. He seemed to have cooled down, which was a good sign, but there was still tension lingering between you.

You slid by him, stopping in the entryway just past the door. The room he had summoned you to was just a plain hotel room. There was a queen-size bed in the middle of the room and a desk in the corner, but not much else.

“You can sit wherever.”

You nodded in acknowledgment and perched yourself on the edge of the bed. Minho followed you but refrained from sitting, choosing to lean back against the dresser so that he could face you.

“Why’d you want to meet me here?” you asked.

“I, uh, thought that talking in my room back at the apartment would look kind of weird if anyone saw us,” he explained awkwardly, “and the walls are thin too.”

“Alright, you have a point,” you admitted with a shaky exhale. “Whose room is this?”

“It’s mine. I went down to the lobby and booked it for the night.”

Oh to have a K-pop-sized disposable income.

“Oh, right. Should have thought of that.” You swallowed thickly, trying still to appear calm, cool, and collected. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”

You realized that Minho hadn’t mentioned wanting to talk in his text. You were just assuming. But given the events of the night, you felt that it was a pretty safe assumption to make.

“I wanted to know why you and Jisung lied to everyone,” he took a brief pause before continuing, “and why I now have to lie to everyone too.”

You bit your tongue, stopping yourself before you could point out that he was already lying to everyone, and just nodded.

“So the thing is, when he told your parents he had a girlfriend, he did have a girlfriend. They broke up, like, less than a week after he told them that and I guess he was too embarrassed to break the news because they were so excited for him and had already invited her on the trip. Jisung figured that maybe he’d have another girlfriend by the time he actually had to go on the trip, but when the end of the semester rolled around and he didn’t, I kind of filled the vacancy because he asked me to.”

“But why?” Minho pressed. “Why was it so important for him to be dating someone?”

“I don’t know, actually. He told me that it was to make your parents happy because they were always bugging him about his dating life, but I thought there might have been another reason that he just wasn’t telling me.”

Minho hummed thoughtfully. “Mom and dad are pretty nosy about our lives, but I don’t know why he would feel pressured to be in a relationship.”

“I think he felt like he had something to prove,” you said, choosing your words carefully. You knew how rocky Jisung’s relationship with his older brother was, at least from what he told you. You didn’t want to give Minho anything he could hold against him. “You’re not going to say anything to your parents or Felix, are you?”

“No,” he answered immediately and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “That’s his prerogative, I suppose. I don’t want to start anything between us- it’s not my place to say anything, really.”

“Thank you.”

He let his arms drop to his sides but didn’t move from where he was standing. “So, there’s really nothing going on between you and Jisung?”

“No, I swear.”

“Even after spending all this time together on the trip?”

“Nope, we spend all of our time together anyway.”

“So are you… friends with benefits?” he asked.

“No. We’ve made out a few times, but it really just happens when we’re drunk. We never slept together.”

“But what about…” he trailed off, but you understood what he was talking about instantly.

“Oh, no! That was all fake. We just did that to sell it more, and sometimes to mess with you guys.”

“I knew there was no way he could be that good,” Minho whispered.

You chuckled but came to your friend’s defense. “He seems to do pretty well for himself. Girls usually call him back after staying over so he must be doing something right.”

“I can’t believe it was fake,” Minho mumbled, mostly to himself. “Sorry, I’m still processing this.”

“Take your time.”

You leaned back on the palms of your hands, feeling a little more relaxed now that you knew he didn’t hate you.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked finally, letting the mask fall the tiniest bit. “After I kissed you the first time? Or when you kissed me back? This whole time I’ve felt like such an asshole for- for everything that happened.”

“I thought about it,” you admitted, “but Jisung and I agreed that it would stay between us. I’m sorry.”

“I get why you didn’t. I just wish it could have been different.”

“Me too,” you agreed.

Minho crossed over to the bed and sat down next to you.

“I’m sorry I went through your stuff.”

You threw your head back laughing. You hadn’t expected him to say that. “It’s fine. Honestly, it’s a relief not to have to keep up the act around you anymore.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?” Minho raised an eyebrow and grinned, making you shy away from his gaze.

You looked down at your lap.

“Because it was exhausting! I don’t know how to act.” It was a half-truth, and you suspected that he knew it.

“You had me fooled.”

You managed to look back up at him only to find him staring at your lips. This was not how you imagined this conversation going at all.

“Maybe I should change career paths then,” you choked out.

“Yeah, maybe.”

A few more beats of silence lapsed between you before Minho spoke again.

“All of this time we could have been doing this,” he murmured gently.

You scrunched your face up in confusion. “What’s ‘doing this’?”

He leaned forward and bridged the gap between you by pressing his lips to yours to answer your question. His hand came up to your hair instinctively, muscle memory, and brushed it out of your face before cupping your jaw. You melted into him like you had done too many times before, letting him trace the curves of your face with his thumb like he was trying to memorize it.

His palm was warm and you could feel the calluses on his hand against your cheek. You were the first to moan, any embarrassment long forgotten as you climbed onto his lap.

Minho accommodated your weight easily, hands immediately coming down to grab your ass. He allowed you to push him down so that he was lying flat on the bed with you straddling his waist.

Minho slipped his tongue into your mouth as the kiss intensified, teasing you with it. You whimpered when he pulled away, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. Minho just smirked and used the opportunity to flip you over so that he was on top.

Then his lips were back on you, brushing against your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. As soon as you felt his teeth graze your skin you pushed his head back and gave him a look. It was his turn to pout.

“You can’t leave marks, idiot.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he said apologetically, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know that he didn’t mean it whatsoever. “Well, you can mark me up as much as you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “Lucky me.”

Minho ignored your comment and raised himself onto his hands, still hovering over you. He looked pretty, even in the dim, yellowy hotel room light. His lips were already a bit puffy, but he hadn’t even been kissing you for that long. You briefly wondered how they’d look after making out with your cunt, all swollen and glossy. You tried to squeeze your thighs together at the thought, legs closing around Minho’s hips instead. He seemed pleased at your eagerness and rewarded you with another kiss.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked when he came up for air. You nodded. “Here, lift up a little.”

You did as he asked so that he could work the t-shirt over your head, laughing when he tossed it on the floor.

“You weren’t wearing a bra?”

“I was about to go to sleep!”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Likely story.”

“No, you’re right. I came here in my pajamas fully intending to seduce you.”

“Well, it worked.”

“Of course it did. Men are so easy.”

He shook his head, tongue poking his cheek. “You’re going to regret saying that.”

You cocked your head to the side, fully aware that Minho had the physical upper hand. “We’ll see.”

As soon as the words left your mouth Minho’s hands were on your boobs, effectively shutting you up. He circled a thumb around each of your nipples, smirking when you gasped and arched your back.

“Barely even touching you and look how eager you are for me,” he mused.

“T-take your shirt off too.” It was meant to be a command, but it sounded more like a plea.

“What’s the magic word?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fine, since you asked so nicely.”

Minho reached behind his neck and yanked his t-shirt off, throwing it in the same general direction as he had thrown yours. You had seen Minho shirtless plenty of times before and you still couldn’t help but stare. His body looked like one of those statues you had seen in the Louvre, carved out of marble by one of the artists they named the Ninja Turtles after.

You reached out to touch his chest, running your fingertips along his pale skin.

“Can I take these off too?” Minho asked, playing with the hem of your sweats. He snapped the elastic band against your hip, making you flinch.

“Yes, please get them off of me, it’s hot,” you whined.

You were left in just your underwear beneath him. You were usually pretty confident with sexual partners, but with Minho you felt exposed, vulnerable. You felt the urge to cover yourself, even though he was looking at you like you were a star amongst the cosmos.

He repositioned himself lower in between your legs and before you could ask what he was doing, he pressed his tongue against your clothed cunt, licking a fat stripe between your folds.

You cried out in surprise, hips bucking into his face as a string of curses left your mouth.

Minho raised his head, smiling sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ve been imagining what you taste like for weeks. I just had to know.”

“It felt good,” you assured him, silently begging him to continue. “Was it what you hoped it would be?”

“Better. Can I please keep going?”

“God, yes.”

He placed a hand on either one of your thighs to hold you down as he buried his head in between your legs again. He teased you with his tongue over your panties, finding your clit in an impressively short amount of time. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing his head against you. He groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening as you pulled his hair.

“Please, need more,” you whined.

And Minho was all too willing to give you exactly that. Instead of taking the time to take your panties off, he just pulled them to the side so that he could have complete access to your pussy. He went back to work and you both moaned. His tongue was wet and warm and felt perfect on your clit. You frowned when he started moving lower, confused as to what he was doing until you felt his tongue working you open. No one had ever tongue-fucked you before and you thought you might cum from that alone.

Minho paused again to catch his breath. “Fuck, I knew you were wet, but I didn’t expect you to be this wet,” he rasped out.

“Sorry,” you hissed, cheeks warm with embarrassment.

“Who the fuck ever told you to apologize for being turned on?”

“N-no one.”

“Good, because it’s hot.”

You scoffed.

“Lay back down,” Minho said, nodding at you to punctuate his point.

You rolled your eyes at him but did as he said anyway. “You’re so bossy.”

“Do you want me to keep going or not?”

“Fine, fine. Sorry.”

“I fucking knew you were a brat,” he sneered.

“What gave it away?” you asked sweetly.

“Take a wild guess.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows again despite just being told to lie down. “And what are you going to do about it?”

Instead of answering, Minho hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed, making you lose your balance and yelp in surprise. You watched his shoulder muscles flex as he used his strength to push your hips down, preventing you from squirming. The sight was enough to make you want to squeeze your thighs together, but of course, Minho was stopping you from doing just that.

He pulled your panties off completely this time, apparently frustrated with the obstacle in his way. They joined the heap of clothes on the ground. You didn’t even need to look at them to know that they were ruined.

His mouth was back on you before you could get another word in, causing any snarky remark you’d been about to make dissolve into a moan. It was a little sloppy at first. He had yet to fully regain his bearings, but dove in headfirst anyway. Kisses against the crux of your thigh, nips at your hip bones. Teasing and experimental.

His touch didn’t have the practiced familiarity of a lover. Each movement was eager, exploratory. He was learning your body like he had all the time in the world, but you were growing impatient.

Your hands flew to his hair again as he finally laved his tongue over your clit. You suppressed your moans this time, remembering what he had said about the neighbors.

“Fuck, keep going,” you hissed, encouraging him to continue. “Please keep going.”

You could feel Minho smirking against your pussy, but you didn’t care. He could be as cocky as he wanted if he was going to make you feel this good.

It didn’t take much to get you to the edge. It had been a while since you’d gotten laid, and you had been wanting Minho for God knows how long… you would usually be embarrassed, not want to give a man a bigger ego than he already had, but you had a feeling Minho was trying to get you to cum before fucking you and you wanted him inside of you as quickly as possible. If anything, you were doing him a favor.

“C-close, Min. ‘M really close!”

You could barely make out the muffled “already?” that came from him between your legs, but you still rolled your eyes anyway, half-tempted to push his head away.

He guided two of his fingers inside of you, giving you something to clench around as you came. The intention behind the action is what did it. He clearly cared about your pleasure which was rare to find in a partner, especially when said partner was a man.

You came almost instantly, catching Minho off-guard as if “I’m close” hadn’t been warning enough. He must have taken it as an advanced notice rather than an immediate head’s up. He grunted in surprise as you bucked your hips up into his face, but recovered quickly, helping you ride out the orgasm until you relaxed back on the bed.

He lifted his head finally, grinning like he’d just won the lottery, and sucked your arousal off of his fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand shortly afterward.

“Good?” he asked.

“Really good,” you managed to choke out.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, take your pants off.”

Minho chuckled. “Should’ve known you’d only want me for my body.”

You pursed your lips but didn’t bother responding. You both knew that wasn’t true. Otherwise, why would you be risking everything just to fuck him?

Minho pushed himself off of the bed and shimmied out of his pants. As good as he looked in the gray sweats, you knew he would look even better with them off. And you were right. Even though he was still wearing his briefs, you could see the outline of his dick much more prominently. It made your mouth water and you sat up and shifted onto your knees to return the favor he had just given you.

Minho saw you reaching out for him but shook his head.

“I need to feel you,” he said, voice strained. “If that’s okay. I already almost came in my pants just from eating you out, I won’t last.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Not many men would admit to that.”

“Not many men would admit to getting off on making their partner feel good? You’re right.”

You watched as he picked his pants up off the floor and pulled a condom out of one of the pockets.

“Oh now you have a condom?” you teased.

“Look, I usually have them on me, I just didn’t that night,” he exclaimed in defense, the thin foil packet between his teeth. He ripped it open and pulled the rubber out, only pausing when you spoke again.

“You don’t keep them in your wallet, do you?”

“I do, but I change them out pretty often. Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.”

With that settled, he slipped out of his underwear and rolled the condom on with ease. He joined you on the bed a moment later. You laid back and waited for Minho to position himself.

“Wait-” you whispered suddenly, having been so in the moment that you had almost forgotten. “Are you clean?”

Minho let out a sigh of relief, probably having thought something was wrong. “Yeah, I got tested like two months ago.”

“But the other night with that girl-”

“I didn’t sleep with her.”

“Oh. Why?”

“I mean, I fully intended to, if I’m being honest. But I just… couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t get it up?”

“Something like that,” he sighed. “I probably should’ve asked this before going down on you, but you’re clean too, right?”

You nodded. “I get tested all the time and I haven’t had sex in a while.”

“That makes two of us.”

You looked at him expectantly. “You may… continue.”

“I’m surprised that didn’t immediately make my dick soft.”

“Oh, give me a break. My brain is still fuzzy from cumming.”

He snorted. “You’re welcome.”

“I can’t believe that didn’t immediately make me dry up.”

“I’m allowed to be cocky!” he protested. “I made you cum in, what, a minute flat?”

“It took longer than a minute!”

“I don’t know about that. I think we should check the replay.”

“You’re such a dork.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “And that must really turn you on. ‘Cause last time I checked you were dripping onto the sheets.”

“I-” you had nothing. You squeezed your thighs around Minho’s waist, trying to coax him inside of you. “Just stick it in already!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he repeated.

You held onto his arms as he pushed himself in, sighing in relief at the fullness. He wasn’t the biggest you’d ever had, but he was still sizable. You had to take a second to adjust to the stretch before he could start to move. He fit perfectly, at least that’s what it felt like. You were positive he could tell how much you liked his cock from the way you unconsciously clenched around him, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to care. If his ego inflated to the size of the moon after this, fuck it.

“Fuck, st-stop doing that,” Minho stuttered, pressing one of his hands against your hip to try and keep you still.

“I’m not doing anything!”

“You’re, God, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he hissed. “If you keep clenching like that I’m gonna cum.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t even realize.”

You took a deep breath and willed your body to relax. It had been so long since you’d been properly fucked and you didn’t want it to be over before it even started.

“Are you good to keep going?” Minho asked once he’d regained some semblance of composure.

“Yeah,” you breathed out. “Yeah, fuck please move.”

He leaned down to kiss you as he began to rock his hips into yours and you met him halfway. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and nipped at your bottom lip when you pulled away.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” he confessed, voice raspy.

Baby was new. And it made you whimper in response.

“So goddamn tight. It’s like your pussy was made for me.”

Did he say this to every girl he fucked? Because it sounded like a line, but it was working like a charm on you.

As if he realized he was rambling, he busied his mouth in other ways. He kissed your neck, careful not to leave marks, before moving down to the valley of your breasts where he continued his work. The way he lowered himself onto you pushed his cock in even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible.

His lips were warm. They were so warm. Each kiss felt like you were touching the sun. You could feel the heat against your skin even as he moved away, pressing kisses elsewhere.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Minho asked.

You hadn’t even realized that you had been smiling, or that he had stopped kissing you. He was going faster now too. You hadn’t noticed that either. You were far too gone, clearly.

“Feels good,” was as much as you could manage, but that seemed to satisfy Minho.

“Yeah? Have I fucked you dumb already?” he cooed condescendingly.

You nodded. “Feels sooo good. Feel so full.”

You’d be embarrassed by your barely-comprehensible sentences, but you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure in that moment. You doubted you’d even remember what you said in the morning.

“You close again, baby?”

“Uh huh.”

“Fuck, me too. I’ll get you there, though. I’ll make you feel even better.”

He brought one of his hands down to your clit and used his thumb to rub somewhat uncoordinated circles on it. He was gentler than he had been before, like he knew you were still sensitive from cumming the first time. The added stimulation brought you back to the edge in record time and all you could do to alert Minho of what was happening was frantically grab his bicep and squeeze it repeatedly.

“Gonna cum? Go ahead, baby.”

Your entire body tensed as your second orgasm of the night washed over you. Minho fucked you through it again, announcing that he was cumming right as you started to come down. Watching his face scrunch up in pleasure as he came was almost enough to send you into a third orgasm. His eyes shut and his mouth fell open into an O shape as his hips faltered. He didn’t stop thrusting until he was certain he’d given you every last drop of his cum, choking out a string of curses followed by your name through gritted teeth.

He collapsed on top of you seconds later, completely spent and still inside of you.

“Fuck, that was good,” he panted. You nodded in agreement, wincing when you felt him pull out. “You okay?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I can walk. My legs feel like jelly.”

“Would another orgasm help?”

“No,” you groaned. “I can’t take another one.”

“I was kidding. C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up and back to your room.”

“Nooo, I’m tired,” you whined.

“I know, I know,” he said softly, “but you can’t sleep here. Unless you want Jisung to find out?”

“Fine,” you mumbled. Your eyes were closed, but you could hear him moving around the hotel room. “Just give me like five minutes to nap.”

“You know I can’t do that.” When you opened your eyes he was wearing pants again and standing beside the bed waiting for you. “You need to shower. And pee. A UTI in the middle of vacation would really suck.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You’re impossible.”

“You knew that before sleeping with me.”

“Yeah, and I still did it anyway. Now, get up.”

“You’re so bossy,” you muttered under your breath, repeating the sentiment you had already voiced. Minho just chuckled and helped you to your feet.

“You seemed to like that earlier.”

“Yeah, when you were making me cum.”

“Well, I won’t be able to make you cum anymore if you contract an infection. So I have to be bossy or else you won’t listen.”

“Or else you won’t listen,” you mocked.

Minho grinned despite himself and shook his head at you. “We should’ve started doing this way sooner.”

hope y'all liked this one :) lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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secretsecretbunny · 2 months

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Just friends: stray kids smau.

Part two: "MewMin."

paring: lee minho x f!reader - roommate!skz

genre: fluff, angst, comedy, (future smut), smau, roommates au.

warnings for this chapter: weed use, mild sexual jokes, relentless flirting, honestly that's it, this is mostly fluff.

intro || part one || part 1.5

As you stretch your arms overhead, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, putting on an oversized t-shirt and your favorite pair of pajama shorts. It may have appeared that you weren't wearing any pants, but you didn't care and were confident that nobody else would either, as long as you were comfortable. As you leave your room, you make your way towards the basement stairs, passing by the kitchen where Chan and Seungmin are busy preparing their breakfasts. The aroma of freshly toasted bread fills the air as you walk down the hallway.

"morning!" you said, your voice still a bit raspy from sleep.

"morning, sweetheart" Chan responded, motioning you in for a hug.

You took a few more steps into the kitchen, feeling the coldness of the tile floor against your bare feet as you wrapped your arms around Chan's waist and rested your head on his chest, enjoying the warmth his body provided. "You should really be sleeping more" he mumbled into your hair.

You sighed "I know I know, but I have caffeine!" You chirped as you pulled away from the hug.

"You're gonna be shaking like a damn chihuahua if you don't chill with the caffeine" Seungmin said as he took a bite of his food. You turned around to face him.

"oh so I get shit for drinking too much caffeine but Innie doesn't? Double standard ass bitch." Seungmin just rolled his eyes. You looked him up and down for a moment, he was dressed in a nice black button up with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, matching black slacks, and nice shoes. He was adorned with gold necklaces and rings while his hair was parted in the middle.

"You look hot, where you going?" you asked with a tilt of your head. His face scrunched up in disgust, despite his flushed cheeks, making Chan laugh.

"Ew. Anyway.. I'm heading over to Gucci and then Prada to get some dog clothes for the pups I'm walking today." he explained.

"You shop at Gucci and Prada for dogs?" you ask incredulously.

"Yes? And?" he replied in defense.

As you left the kitchen, you couldn't help but shake your head with a hint of amusement. "Nothing, just suddenly I'm a dog." You said with a laugh.

"Yeah well I'm not buying you shit!" He shouted down the hallway, his words chasing after you as you made your way towards the stairs that led to Jisung's room.

You walked down the stairs and passed through the spacious game room, which was filled with a variety of entertainment options, including a few arcade machines, an air hockey table, and a dart board mounted on the far wall. Rounding the corner you peeked into Jisung's room. "Hanji? You're clothed right?" you asked cautiously. He laughed "no, I'm stark naked and smoking a fat bowl." he said sarcastically. "Oh hell yeah" you said, dramatically bursting into the room. As you laughed uncontrollably, you collapsed onto one of his soft couches. He quickly passed you the bong with a chuckle, shaking his head at your dramatics. "well, the fat bowl part was true at least" you accepted the bong, lighting the bowl and taking a decent sized hit before you blew the smoke out slowly. God you loved a good wake n bake.

The sudden buzzing of your phone signaled an update awaited you in the group chat.

You slowly savored the coffee Jeongin had brewed for you, already feeling the effects of the RedBull but still yearning for more caffeine. Six hours or less of sleep wasn't uncommon for you, but it certainly wasn't enough to feel rested. The weed kept the caffeine jitters at bay and you were content vegging out on the sofa in Jisung's basement bedroom.

You lived in a spacious and luxurious house, so it was no surprise that the basement was just as impressive. It was modeled the same as the rest of the place, with the exception of the lack of windows. Jisung's room was adorned with purple LED lights and chill music played in the background, creating a peaceful atmosphere that was perfect for starting your day.

After sending your last message to the group chat and locking your phone, you let out a sigh as you set it down on the coffee table in front of you. Jisung sat on the smaller sofa across from you, giving you an inquisitive look with his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes fixed intently on yours. You raised an eyebrow back at him "What?" you asked. "not to be the bitch in another bitches business.." he started, slouching further into the sofa "but you do know they're just worried, right?" he asked hesitantly. You gave a gentle smile before another sigh escaped you. "Yeah, I know, but I'm good, promise." you said. Jisung nodded in response.

The door creaked open further and both of you leaned forward to see who was entering. "Hey, just me." Minho said as he stepped inside. "gimme a couple hits, my body is screaming from this morning's routine" he complained. Jisung sat up, handing him the bong. Minho took a hit, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling. "So, wasn't trying to eavesdrop but.." he turned to you, face unreadable "you are like.. safe.. right?" he asked, referring to your work. You carefully chewed on your bottom lip for a few seconds, gathering your thoughts before responding. "I mean.. yeah. I'm safe." Minho looked at you, unsure if he really believed you or not. You smiled, placing a hand on his cheek. "Don't worry about it." You dropped your hand and Minho let out a huff.

"Anyway.. what are your guys plans for the day?" You asked. Jisung hummed in thought. "I'm probably just chilling here all day." he said with a shrug. Minho looked at you. "I was thinking about going to the Spring festival they're holding at the park. It'd probably be boring alone though.. if you wanted to come with." he said nonchalantly, as if he wasn't already planning on asking you to go. You perked up. "Will you buy me snacks?" You gazed at him with pleading eyes, resembling those of a puppy, and paired it with an endearing smile that lit up your whole face. The combination was irresistible, making him burst into laughter. "Yeah yeah, I'll buy you snacks, princess" he said, rolling his eyes. "Hell yeah! I'm in." Minho turned towards Jisung. "You wanna tag along.. orrr?" he asked him, giving him a look that you couldn't quite decipher. Ji just smirked "Nah. You two have fun." He said, giving Minho a knowing look. "Okay. We'll head out around three, yeah?" He asked you, you nodded. "Yeah, sounds good!" As Minho rose to his feet, he tenderly patted your head before making his way towards the exit. "I'm gonna go make myself some food, I'll see you later though." he said walking out of Jisung's room and back up the stairs.

Ji fixed his gaze on you, his right eyebrow arched in a subtle yet unmistakable gesture of inquiry. "What?" You asked with a confused expression on your face. "Nothing it just.. kinda sounds like a date." He said with a sly grin and an exaggerated eyebrow wiggle, emphasizing his point in a playful manner. You rolled your eyes. "We're just friends, Hanjiiiii" he laughed. "Whatever you say, bug."

You and Jisung smoked another bowl and engaged in conversation while enjoying music, laughing over absolute bullshit until you decided to get ready for the festival with Minho. "Have fun on your daaaate~" Ji mocked in a singsong voice as you stood up from the sofa, his tone was playful but slightly sarcastic. You threw a pillow at his face and laughed before quickly scurrying off to your room.

You chose a cozy and laid-back outfit, consisting of a soft grey sweater, a stylish denim skirt, and your trusty white sneakers, perfect for walking around. For your hairstyle, you opted to keep your strands flowing freely, adding an effortless touch to your overall look. When you stepped out of your room, you narrowly avoided bumping into Minho as he was stopped in front of your door. "Oh, hey. I was just about to get you." He said with a laugh. "You ready?" You nodded "yup! Let's head out!" you said, pulling him along. "You wanna get cheap coffee before?" He asked. "Duh"

Following the stop for coffee where you stayed to savor the drinks, you continued on to the festival, where you were greeted by the vibrant colors of springtime as you approached the park. The sweet scent of blooming flowers mingled with mouthwatering smells from an array of food stalls wafting through the atmosphere. After quickly exiting the car, your excited bouncing drew Minho's attention. "Where to first?" You asked Minho who had an amused smile on his face. "I promised you snacks, no?" he said with a grin. "Let's go get you something good." With graceful precision, you maneuvered around the car and latched onto Minho's arm. "I want something sweet and deep fried!!" You exclaimed. He chuckled as he guided you towards the array of food stalls, each one tempting your senses with its unique aroma. The sweet and savory smells mingled in the air, making your mouth water in anticipation. As you scanned the row of stalls, your eyes landed on a particular stand that caught your attention: Cherry blossom powdered donuts. You pointed to it excitedly. "thaaaaaat". Minho laughed at your excitement, throwing his head back. "Okay okay okay" he laughed out.

As you approached the stall, your face dropped. "Wait, Min, these are expensive. I'm not letting you buy these!" You said, pulling out your wallet. Before you could even pull out your card, Minho quickly and sneakily grabbed your wallet from your hands, shoving it in his own pocket. "Don't even think about it, princess." He said, looking at you intensely. "Miiiin" you whined "aht, shut it." Without hesitation, he extracted his wallet from his other pocket and handed over money to cover the cost of two donuts. You pouted. "I could've totally paid for mine!" With a sly grin spreading across his face, Minho reached out and affectionately tapped his fingers beneath your chin. "I know you could have. I simply didn't want you to, freak." You rolled your eyes. "Fine but I owe you." This made him grin. "Yeah? What are you gonna pay me back with?" He asked with a tilt of his head and a wink. Your face flushed a bit at his sudden flirtatious attitude, and you could feel the heat rising to the surface. You hid it by walking over to a bench that sat beneath one of the many beautiful pink trees. He laughed as he followed you to the bench, where you both sat down and enjoyed your donuts.

You basically devoured your donut in just two bites, while Minho had barely taken his first bite. He looked at you with a hint of amusement and wiped away some powder that had gathered on your bottom lip with his thumb, swiping over it slowly. The soft pad of his thumb meeting your sensitive lip had goosebumps rising on your neck. Your heart stupidly skipped a beat at the gesture. 'Jesus, y/n. This is Minho, what the hell is your problem?'. Maybe it was because of Ji's teasing about this being a date, but you had promised yourself ages ago that nothing could ever happen between you and any of the boys. You refused to be responsible for the fallout of your closely knit group. Not after the rumor almost destroyed everything. All you'd be doing is proving the rumor right.

You turned your head, clearing your throat. "Remember last time we came to the spring festival?" You asked him. With a gentle smile playing on his lips, he relaxed into the bench, letting out a soft laugh. "Yeah. I had to hold your stupid hand the entire time because you freaked out and started crying when I went out of sight for two minutes." He said, reminiscing. "It was ten minutes, Min!! I thought you ditched me.." you pouted. "I would never." He said, nudging your shoulder, the contact warm. You nodded "Yeah, I know. But I was already ditched that day by the guy I was supposed to be there with. I thought maybe I just sucked to be around." You huffed with a nervous laugh.

Minho's fingers grazed against your skin as he tenderly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, making your heart flutter. "Nah, you're my favorite person to be around." God he needed to stop. No, you needed to stop. It's not like he was even doing anything particularly.. flirty. Was he? This was normal behavior within your friend group, so why should it feel different with Minho? You sucked in a breath. "I thought I was a freak." You teased. He laughed. "I mean, a freak could be a good thing, depending on where you're at." He said wiggling his eyebrows. Now you were laughing. You smacked his arm. "Jesus Christ, Min." You said rolling your eyes. "is that what you scream in bed too?" He said, his voice low. You looked at him, tongue in cheek. "Wouldn't you like to know?" You asked sarcastically. Minho merely shrugged. "Maybe." You just shook your head with another roll of your eyes. "You're impossible, Lee Minho."

The two of you went back and forth for a while, making jokes and conversation before deciding to walk around the festival some more. With so many things to look at, you could hardly focus on just one thing. Suddenly you came to a stop in front of a stall with a dart board game, eyeing what was possibly the cutest grumpy looking cat plush. It honestly reminded you of Minho. "Got your eye on something, princess?" Minho asked, backtracking to you. You simply nodded. "Give me my wallet. I want to win that cat!" You explained, pointing at the stuffed animal. He laughed. "That weird looking thing?" You stifled a smile. "Funny you say that, I was just thinking that it looked like you." Minho threw a hand to his chest with a dramatic gasp. "How dare you, I am MUCH cuter than that thing." You rolled your eyes, making a grabby hand, asking for your wallet.

Minho simply shook his head "Not a chance, princess. I invited you, I'm paying." he said. "Minnnn no! You know how I feel about people spending money on me!" You huffed. "And y/nnnnn you know how I enjoy spending money on people!" He mocked. You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking out your plan for a moment before you were suddenly lunging at him, reaching for his jacket pocket in a swift motion. With one arm securely around his waist, you attempted to slide your other hand into his pocket. Minho was cackling as he pulled at your wrist, his fingers deftly working it away from his pocket before using the position to pull you close to him, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized that your faces were now only inches apart as he beamed at you with an unrestrained grin, making you halt. "Nice try, princess, but back off." He whispered. As he spoke, you could feel the gentle whisper of his breath on your lips. It was as if time stood still for a moment before you felt yourself blushing and taking an involuntary step backwards. Minho smiled. "Good girl.. now, let's get you that cat." He approached the dart booth, handed the operator a few dollars, and received a fistful of darts in exchange.

As you watched him throw the darts, you shielded your eyes from the sun's rays. The first dart hit its mark in the center immediately. The man removed it before Minho threw the second dart, also landing it directly in the middle. You raised your eyebrows, impressed. The actions repeated in the same way until all the darts were gone, earning you your chunky, angry cat. As Minho handed you the plush creature, you couldn't help but beam at it with excitement. With a grin spreading across your face, you gently squished its cheeks. "I love him." You cooed, making Minho laugh. "You really think that thing looks like me?" He asked. You looked at him, then back to the plush, smile still on your face. "Absolutely. Grumpy, but undeniably cute." You giggled out. You missed the subtle, yet noticeable pink hue that suddenly seized his entire face while you were fixated on the cat, completely absorbed in your own thoughts. Minho reached out with his hand and ruffled your hair, causing a few strands to fall out of place before he began walking away. "whatever you say". After catching up to him, you kept pace with him and cradled the soft toy against your chest, exuding happiness.

As you walked side by side, you made your way towards an old wooden bridge that stretched across the serene lake. The sun was warm and casting a bright glow over the water as you stepped onto the creaky boards of the bridge. You stopped midway, taking in the breathtaking view around you while listening to the gentle lapping of the waves. "We should take a selfie!" You exclaimed, pulling out your phone. "Sure, princess." He said, leaning against the railing. Capturing a good picture proved to be more challenging than expected, and you found yourself attempting different poses and angles, all while letting out annoyed sighs when they didn't work as planned. This caught the attention of an older woman on the other side of the bridge. "Oh! Let me take a photo for you two!" She said sweetly. "Oh! Thank you so much, ma'am, I'd really appreciate that!" You said with a smile, handing her your phone.

You sat your cat plush nearby and stood next to Minho, your hands clasped behind your back as Minho leaned closer to you. The woman lowered the camera. "Oh come on, I'm sure a lovely couple like you can strike a more romantic pose than that!" She said with a laugh. Your eyes widened as Minho chuckled. "Oh! We're not-" But before you could even complete your thought, Minho was already turning in your direction with lightning speed, enveloping you securely within his strong arms while lifting you off the ground. You gasped, wrapping your arms around his neck for stability. "That's more like it!" she exclaimed excitedly. "Min, what the hell?" you whispered. He huffed out an airy laugh. "Relax, princess. It's just a photo. I won't drop you." You could feel the warmth of his chest against yours, and his breath on your neck, making you flustered yet again. Unwilling to let your flushed face be documented, you angled your head so that your face was out of view of the camera's lens.

The woman snapped the photo and looked at it with a smile as Minho put you back down and lightly stroked your cheek with the tips of his fingers. You were distracted for a moment, unable to break your eye contact with Min before the woman handed your phone back to you. "It came out perfect!" She said with a smile. You snapped back to reality. "Thank you so much, ma'am" you said as you took your phone back. She waved off the praise as she went back to her own business. You and Minho looked at the photo for a moment before you tucked your phone back into your pocket. You were still feeling a bit flustered as Minho threw an arm around your shoulder nonchalantly, pulling you close to him. "Where to next?" He asked you. You shrugged "uh, you wanna get something to drink?" You asked. He nodded "sure thing." He replied. "Any way you'll let me pay this time?" You asked, looking up at him with a playful glare. "No way in hell, baby." You rolled your eyes at his response. "Fine, whatever." He simply laughed at your reply "I love when you're compliant." He purred. You playfully pushed him away, you holding back a grin as he cackled.

You and Minho walked over to the nearby drink stand, scanning the menu board as you waited in line. When it was your turn, you ordered a cherry blossom lemonade for yourself while Minho chose a strawberry cream drink. The two of you sat near the water, swapping drinks every so often as you made conversation and watched the sun set, your shoulders pressed together. You were both laughing at an old college story when a yawn escaped you. You looked at the time on your phone. It was only 9pm, but you were already feeling exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before. The darkness outside seemed to be closing in on you, making your eyelids feel heavy and your body begged for rest. You rested your head on Minho's shoulder momentarily, enjoying the comfort he provided.

"You ready to head back?" He asked you, noticing your sleepy state. You nodded. "Yeah I'm exhausted." You admitted. He stood up, offering you his hand and helping you up. You grabbed your grumpy cat and you both headed to the car, Minho never releasing your hand.

The ride home was spent singing along to a few songs, smiles plastered on your faces. Minho couldn't help but steal a glance at you, his heart skipping a beat as he took in the sight of you happily belting out one of his favorite songs with your eyes closed, completely absorbed in the music. He focused his attention back on the road just as you opened your eyes, completely missing his gaze.

As you finally arrived home and stepped back inside, you were greeted by the chaotic screams of Jisung and Felix, who were fully immersed in Mario Kart. You laughed at them as you passed. "Welcome back, Bug!" Ji called out as you passed by. "Hey, I'm here too, you know." Minho shouted back. "Yeah yeah you too, loverboy." Jisung responded dismissively. You laughed as Minho rolled his eyes.

"Anyway, I'm gonna go hit the shower before I settle. Today was fun." He said, brushing your arm with his finger tips as he walked by. "Okay. Goodnight, Min." You responded softly. "Goodnight, princess."

After arriving back to your room, you put on some comfy clothes and settled onto your bed to catch up with everyone in the group chat.

As you set your phone down next to you, you can't help but think about all that happened today. Suddenly, Minho's smiling face pops into your head. The way he was so close to you all day, his thumb brushing over your lip, his flirty jokes, his arm around your shoulder, his face close to yours.. your face felt hot just thinking about it. No. Stop. You literally can't do this. You promised yourself you never would. Not with any of the boys. You couldn't. You couldn't because you didn't want to risk your friendships and you couldn't because of your job. It was just all out of the question. No matter what your feelings truly were. Besides, Minho didn't feel that way about you, regardless of how much he jokingly flirted with words and actions. His intentions were probably never serious.

As you were running your hands down your face, your phone suddenly buzzed again. Thinking it was likely the group chat, you picked it up to check, but much to your surprise, it turned out be a private message from Minho.

You smiled at the photo. It really was cute.. you wondered what things would be like if Minho wasn't part of your friend group. If he was just a guy you met, maybe in a coffee shop or a bookstore. You didn't let yourself entertain the thought for long, flicking off your lamp and curling into your blankets in a swift motion, almost as if you were trying to escape the notion that had just crossed your mind, you pulled your grumpy cat to your chest and buried your face in it.

MewMin, you decided to name him. He would have to do...

a/n:

Guys I did it. I finished part two 😭 y'all asked for fluff so I did my best to give you fluff!! Please please let me know what you think by commenting, reblogging, or sending me an ask!! Thank you so much for your patience!! I love you!! -Bunny 🐰💕

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#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lino x reader #lee minho #lee know #lino #minho #skz #stray kids #skz fake texts #stray kids fake texts #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz smau #stray kids smau #series: just friends #bunbunworks #skz fic #stray kids fic

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ccawz · 9 months

Text

Tangerines

a/n: written a while ago, when I saw something about peeling an orange for a loved one is like saying ‘I love you.’ also cause I’m getting a tangerine tattoo for loml bsk 🍊

lee know x gn!reader (implied member) 205 wc, fluff

“I hate peeling these things,” Minho grumbled, tossing the tangerine peel with a look of disgust. “Hate it.” You hum, watching with furrowed brows as he bites into it instead of peeling the slices.

After filming his solo scenes, Minho made his way to the dressing room, sighing in content as he thought about the snacks waiting for him. He really wants a tangerine, but doesn’t want to go through the hassle of peeling it.

“Hey,” you call him, waving him over to your spot on the couch. He situated himself so his legs would hang over your lap and quirked a brow when you handed him a small bowl of the fruit he was dreaming of, lips parting when he saw they’d been peeled. “You said you hated peeling them.”

“You listened to that?” He asks, feeling a lump form in his throat when you stare at him.

“I always listen to you.” You look away when he does, clearing your throat nervously. Minho leans closer to you with newfound confidence, biting into the small fruit graciously. “But I don’t like the way you eat those.”

His eyes smile, and juice slightly dribbles from the corner of his lips when he grins. “It’s faster.”

#skz x gn reader #stray kids x gender neutral reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x male reader #skz x 9th member #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #minho x reader #lino x reader

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jinxhallows · 7 months

Text

kinktober #oo1 | costume party

KINKTOBER 2023 || jinxhallows costume party (knife play) || lino x fem!reader summary: you and minho have been together for some time now, and you two get invited to an adult costume party at your local community center. not otherwise having an excuse to get dressed up, you convince him to go with you... warnings: knifeplay and all the things that entails (like SHARP BLADES and the DANGER OF BEING CUT, knicks, blood, etc), suggestively dub-con if you literally SQUINT, non-idol AU word count: 2.5k masterlist - click here

You have to admit, when the two of you agree on your Halloween costumes, you don't expect his choice to elicit such a reaction from you. You find yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting the fluffy bunny tail attached to your costume. You crane your head over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the reflection to figure out what's happening. Just as you're struggling to make sense of it, your boyfriend enters the room. He's fully dressed as Ghostface for the annual Halloween party downtown. Kneeling down, he positions himself at eye level with your derrière, taking the tail into his hands with meticulous care.

With skilled fingers, he expertly repins the tail where it should be. Standing up, he lifts the Ghostface mask off his face, revealing a grin that speaks of mischief and excitement.

“I look pretty badass, don't I?” He asks, holding up his prop knife and pulling his mask back down over his face. "You do," you admit, trying to hide a smirk, "but the Fisher-Price butcher knife ain't cutting it, get it? Cutting it." Minho slides his mask back atop his head. He’s not amused.

His lids drop, and there isn't a trace of a smile on his face. He has taken your comment personally, particularly your jab at his choice of prop.

Your playful banter continues, and he retorts, "I could always get a real one, you know. We have plenty in the kitchen."

"And we would get arrested? You can't have real weapons at a Halloween party, Min. Are you crazy?"

His response is simply, "Yes."

You exchange a bemused look for a few seconds before grabbing your purse off the bathroom counter.

"Come on," you sigh, a grin breaking through the tension. "We're gonna be late." -

You both arrive at the costume party just in time to socialize with everyone and start drinking. It's right in the middle of the peak attendance time, so various creatures and ghouls with intriguing costumes fill the venue.

Amid the crowd, you notice a few Ghostface costumes, a popular choice for Halloween. As you stand in the hallway, waiting in line for the bathroom, you don't pay much attention to the people passing by who are also dressed like your boyfriend.

You've had a couple of drinks, and your tolerance isn't high, so your battery is rapidly running out after almost two hours at the party. You lean against the wall next to the bathroom with a sigh, growing annoyed at how long the person in front of you is taking. You pull out your phone and start texting Minho:

im over it.

Almost instantly, the bubbles indicating his reply in progress pop up,

me 2

wya?

You start typing your response.

"What's your favorite scary movie?"

In the dimly lit hallway of the community center, the presence of someone behind you initially startles you. However, when you turn around and see the person in a Ghostface costume, you roll your eyes.

"Haha, you got me, asshole."

The individual tilts their head to the side, extending their arm and flicking a thumb to reveal a very real, very sharp switchblade.

You step back immediately, your eyes wide with shock. This isn't your boyfriend; it has to be one of the other partygoers.

That's when you hear it—Minho's laughter, muffled underneath the mask as he slides it atop his head.

"Fisher Price, huh?" he teases.

You shove him with the heel of your hand into his chest, and the person ahead of you exits the bathroom, glancing between the two of you standing on either side of the door before walking away. You manage to catch the door before it closes and enter the stall, your earlier fright quickly dissipating. As you lock the stall, you can hear the DJ outside, urging everyone to hit the dance floor at that very moment.

"Good, perfect timing for us to slip out," you think to yourself.

You finish up, clean yourself, and go to wash your hands, rubbing them together with soap until they get nice and foamy. As you look up at yourself in the mirror, you notice that your makeup has lasted far longer than expected, and your nose is still marked with bunny whiskers drawn onto your cheeks.

You can't help but crinkle your nose at your reflection. You actually look really fucking cute.

The doorknob twists and pushes open, and you scramble across the room, an immediate realization dawning upon you—you'd forgotten to lock the door.

"Back up." Minho commands with a hushed urgency through the slender crack in the doorway. Instinctively, you grip the other side of the door, momentarily mistaken, thinking it might be someone else. However, the recognition in his eyes eases your anxiety. You yield, taking a few steps backward, granting him entry. As he crosses the threshold, you efficiently swing the door closed behind him, the definitive click of the lock resounding through the room. “There’s no way you had to go to the bathroom that bad.” You say, turning away from the door and facing the mirror. Leaning forward, you meticulously adjust your bunny ears, finessing them to sit perfectly centered. In the reflection, you observe your makeup once again, and pinch your upper eyelash, delicately securing the tiny, unruly section that threatened to lift.

In that moment, Minho's hands snake around your waist, pulling you into a close embrace from behind. His chin nestles atop your shoulder, the mask he was wearing still perched atop his head. A contented smile spreads across his face, his eyes sealed shut. He's intoxicated, not just from the night but from his deep affection for you.

“You make such an incredibly cute bunny, you know that?” He whispers, his lips tenderly pressing against your cheek. “Yeah, I do. That’s why I dressed up as one tonight, duh.” His smile drops as he opens his eyes. Again. He’s not amused. He sighs thoughtfully, the air in the room thickening. “You know, sometimes I fantasize about strangling you in your sleep.” You struggle to stifle the snigger that bubbles up from within you. "Yeah?" you taunt, subtly pressing your body back into his, playfully swaying your bunny tail as laughter escapes your lips. You secure his hands that rest gently on your tummy, holding them in place. “What part gets you off more? The struggle, or my last breath?” “Oh I don’t know…” Minho's response carries a sudden shift in tone, his voice adopting an unexpectedly innocent quality as he slyly slips his hand from underneath yours. His fingers trace along your hips, leisurely making their way to his back pocket, all the while maintaining unbroken eye contact with your reflection in the mirror.

“If I had to pick, I’d say that fear,” In one swift, chilling motion, he retrieves a switchblade from his back pocket, the audible click of its deployment making you involuntarily wince. The cold metal of the blade is brought swiftly to your neck, its back pressed gently against your throat, and you instinctively clutch his thighs behind you, a tremor of unease coursing through you at the unsettling contact of the knife against your skin. “That, right there, the moment before you die, when you really realize it’s about to be over.” Minho continues, his gaze dropping from your eyes to focus on the delicate curve of your jaw, which tilts slightly to the left. Your chest rises and falls beneath the ominous presence of his weapon, your breaths growing more pronounced. A heavy silence ensues, broken only by the sound of his sharp inhale through his teeth. “Yeah, that’s the part that gets me off.” “Min, this isn’t funny-” His left arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer as his warm breath brushes against your ear. “Y/N, nobody’s laughing.” A lump forms in your throat, noticeable even through your thick swallow, as you feel the cold edge of the blade he's holding.

The sudden change in your posture prompts a furrow in his brow, his gaze shifting downwards to where your cheeks curve beneath the sides of your bodysuit, creating a tantalizing silhouette that pushes further against his growing erection. “You’re really getting hard…at the idea…of murdering me. Min, that’s–” “It’s not to the idea of murdering you, I was fucking kidd–” “-kinda sexy?” It's enough to halt Minho in his tracks, a wry, half-hearted chuckle escaping his lips while a faint smile lingers on his face. With a casual gesture, he lowers the knife to his side, shaking his head in amused disbelief at your side before he returns his gaze to your reflection in the mirror.

Your own response is an infectious giggle, and he simply shrugs, readjusting his mask over his handsome features. “You’re so weird,” Minho remarks with a touch of humor in his voice, his dark chuckle gradually subsiding. His left hand gently cradles your jaw, tilting your head upward. With precision, he places the tip of the knife right at the junction where your ear meets your neck. You remain entirely compliant, entranced by the sensation of the blade's subtle pressure against your skin. It's a subtle reminder that even the smallest movement could lead to an inadvertent cut. Surprisingly, both of you find yourselves unexpectedly at ease. “Is this seriously turning you on?” he inquires, curiosity tingeing his voice as he traces the blade's edge down the side of your neck, towards the apex of your full breasts. You watch him in the mirror, and yeah, Minho is pretty to look at, especially when he fucks you, yet, in this moment, his disguise as Ghostface adds an intriguing layer of taboo to the situation, as if you're venturing into uncharted territory.

"Hey," his voice pierces the air, sharp and commanding, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “I asked you a question, and you know I don’t like being ignored.” “Y-Yeah,” you breathe, your voice trembling slightly, “I don’t know why, but it's turning me on.” “I know why,” A soft chuckle escapes Minho's lips, and he allows the blade to glide toward the V-shaped neckline of your bodysuit. Applying the gentlest of pressure, the fabric splits almost instantly, without the need for any sawing motion. As he pushes further down, the knife cleanly separates your suit into two, stopping only when it reaches your navel piercing. “Because you’re the one fantasizing about me killing you.” As soon as he says it, it becomes clear. Those nights you’ve spent with your hand around your throat, stars bursting behind your eyes as you would work yourself into a state of frenzied pleasure, gasping out his name. It wasn’t just about being choked, Minho does plenty of that in the bedroom with you, instead, it was about pushing the boundaries, teetering on the precipice of discomfort, and riding the exhilarating edge towards climax. It had always been a deeply personal exploration, something you'd never shared aloud, let alone admitted.

Yet now, as Minho uncovers your secret desire, you find yourself rendered blissfully ecstatic by the mere sensation of a switchblade brushing your skin at various points on your body.

“You ruined m-my costume,” You make a poor attempt at resistance as his left palm squeezes your breast, causing you to grip the edge of the ceramic sink harder.

“You wanted me to,” Minho presses the flat side of the blade flush between your folds, your breath quickens as he grabs your chin, directing your face back to the mirror.

“Say it.”

“I wanted you to.” You give in.

“Wanted me to what?”

You swallow. “I wanted you to ruin my costume.”

Minho takes the knife away, pulling his mask up and off, shaking his hair out as he looks at you in the mirror. “My, you do make a reaaally hot bunny, baby, do you see yourself?” His voice is getting raspier as his gaze falls onto your body in front of him, down your back, and he angles his hips forward, against your tail.

“Thank you, baby.”

You have no choice, his grip underneath your jaw is still tight. You move your head up and down, barely, acknowledging yourself the way he’s asked you to.

Your submissive tone takes him by surprise as he looks back up to you. “Where’d all that attitude go?” He cocks a smile, and you flinch as you feel him slip his knife between your skin and the fabric of the gusset of your bodysuit. He wastes no time in cutting it, the stretchy fabric snapping against your skin as it separates.

Minho puts the knife between his teeth, using both hands to rip the nude stockings, another senseless layer keeping him away from your delicious pussy, followed by your thin g-string that he slides aside, bringing his hand back to pull the waist of his pants down, gripping the base of his cock that sits so perfectly at your dripping entrance.

Then you have the audacity to speak up.

“Min, hold on,” Your sense returns, if only for a few seconds, “We’re at a party, what if we get caught?”

It’s enough to get him to remove the knife from his teeth and hold the dull side against your throat, but pressing in enough to make your breathing more audible.

“We won’t get caught if you keep your mouth shut.” His eyes watch you from the side, his mouth slightly ajar, as he slides himself the rest of the way inside of you to the hilt. He laughs under his breath, thrusting inside you again, a little harder this time.

“Good bunny,” you bite your lip hard to contain yourself as he slaps your ass, holding onto your hip as he fucks you, never, not once, letting up off your throat.

“M-Min-“

“Shh,” he whispers, the tip of it against your lower lip, “Be quiet and let me fuck you, you’ve been asking for it all night.”

You extend your tongue, the blade flattened against the moist muscle, and your eyes roll back involuntarily as you release an audible, desperate moan. Sensing his proximity to climax, you feel the pressure ease on his blade, his ragged breaths escaping through his flaring nostrils. His head falls back, the blade clattering into the bowl of the sink, warm, sticky spurts of cum painting your walls, his hips spasming while you contract around him. You instinctively push back, stimulated by the feeling, your inner muscles squeezing him, while his hands come to rest on your hips, torn between wanting to stop you and being too ensnared in the pleasure's aftermath to act.

Finally, he regains his composure, blinking and widening his eyes as he lets out a sigh, his cheeks puffing up momentarily. He gazes at your reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah, you definitely get off on the idea of murdering me.” you remark, picking up his switchblade and securely locking it back in its place. You turn to face him, a smirk playing on your lips. "And you'd better escort me out the back; I'm completely exposed now, you asshole." You gracefully move past him into the stall, tending to the remnants of his release running down your bare thighs and legs.

He chuckles,

“Ah, there’s the attitude.” - fin

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minkkumaz · 9 months

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DAMN THE MAN, SAVE THE EMPIRE

on the surface, you were beautifully perfect. inside, was a different story. this composure influences an argument between you and minho. he helps you realize that no one cares anyways.

PIERCE THE VEIL series

PAIRING lee minho x gn!reader WC 1.1k TAGS established relationship trope. minor arguing. cussing. petnames: honey, gorgeous. angst but not that severe. reader has problems with her feelings. OMI NOTE minho is secretly ptv coded and nobody can change my mind. hope yall enjoy the (kinda) back to back post muahaha.

everything on the outside remained perfectly porcelain, a fabricated smile resting on your face like a manufactured doll. a doll that was malleable, taking every punch swung it’s way. minho never appreciated the idea of this, how you just let people boss you around.

but you were happy, and that was the only thing that mattered. you adjusted to any weird situation or any uncomfortable circumstances.

yet when the door closed behind you and you were out of reach, tears escaped from your glossy eyes. everything cut into you at once, all the stress pouring into you like salt on an open wound. the apartment was empty, not a warm body to be found.

it seemed like the coast was clear as you let out strangled sobs. you let your body lean against the wall, slowly descending yourself down the cold plaster. carefully tucking your knees into the rest of your body you sat and cried.

all of your senses subsided, making it feel as if you were in a small orb incapable of feeling anything. what was once your safe space became a problem, as you felt panicked arms rush around your figure.

you didn’t hear a single footstep, nor any movement around you. so why did it feel like you were being held?

moving your head away from your knees, you look up to see what was happening. instead, you are met with a worried minho. he raised the pads of his fingers to wipe tears from your flushed cheeks, his other head holding the back of your head.

“honey, are you okay? why are you crying on the floor?” he mumbled, hugging your body into his.

“i– i’m fine! i’m okay, i just um tripped and it hurt.” you blatantly lie to him, pulling away. “i know you’re lying to me, i just want to help you.” he tries to take your hand, but you move it out of the way before he can grab it.

“minho, i’m fine. please drop it.” you stand up from your spot on the floor, ignoring the furry creatures that came over curiously.

“y/n.” he said sternly, grabbing hold of your wrist before you could get away.

you turned back on your heel, visibly frustrated. he wasn’t supposed to know as much as he was about to, and you know it’d kill him if he did.

“let me go, min. i told you it’s nothing, please.” you tried your best to wiggle out of his grip.

“why do you keep shutting yourself out to me? just tell me that at least.”

“i don’t have to tell you shit.” you spat. “god, i’m just trying to be helpful to you! are you so conceited that you won’t let me be there for you?” he argued with you.

“can’t you just believe that i’m okay? sure i was maybe crying a little but what does it matter to you?” you yelled, tears threatening to spill from your eyes once again, “you’re too busy to care anyways.”

“you know i can’t control my work schedule. you’re being selfish.”

“right, i’m the selfish.”

“you only see the dark side of my love for you, y/n. i want nothing more than to do what i can to help you.”

“theres not much you can do for me. i’m perfect. i’m okay.” you exhale deeply in an attempt to calm yourself.

“but that’s the thing, you aren’t.” he reaches his hand out to you again, in which you hesitantly take.

“minho please–”

“i know you think that– that you have to be some kind of flawless image all the time. and that nobody will take you seriously if you’re vulnerable.” he pauses for a second, recollecting his thoughts, “but nobody likes this shit anyways. i want you to stay true to yourself.”

“that’s easier for you to say. you can stay perfect behind closed doors, while i’m like this.” minho doesn’t respond. “is that what you wanted to hear? that maybe i’m going a little insane? that maybe i’m pulling out my fucking hair trying to maintain this?”

when his eyes trailed to your own, they were glistening with so much sadness. he wrapped his arms closer around you in an embrace. you stayed stiff in his hold, but this didn’t matter to him.

“what if i told you that i was constantly phasing out? that sometimes it feels like i’m wearing a second skin when i’m on stage.” he whispers into your ear, his breath sending chills down your spine.

“you do..?” you mumble innocently, finally letting yourself loosen up.

“of course i do. everyone does. chan does, han, changbin. you aren’t the only one that feels like they need to perfect all the time.”

“fuck. when you say it like that i feel like a terrible person.”

“oh honey. if anything, that only makes the feeling deeper. maybe we can’t afford to calm our minds, but at least know that you aren’t alone. you never are.” he pulls his head out of the crook of your neck, moving his hands to cup your face.

doongie moves from a spot in the corner with his cat bed and other siblings to curl around your legs his fur rubs softly against your ankle, making you feel slightly ticklish. minho laughed slightly at the small feline creature coming to comfort his other parent.

“see? even our kid is here for you.” you smile at his words, letting yourself fully relax in his arms.

he leans closer into your face, leaving a tender kiss on your lips. it feels comforting, like you finally got the chance to be at home after so many moments of worry. the longer you stayed in his touch, the more reassured you felt.

when he separated from you, you whimpered slightly at the loss of contact. this only enabled him to plant one more chaste kiss onto your lips.

it was sweet. everything you needed to know that this was your safe space. feeling nothing but the plump lips of your lover against yours.

“i’m so sorry for being upset with you and pushing you away from me..” you sigh, pressing your forehead up against his.

“you have nothing to apologize for. i told you that i just wanted to help you. just tell me what you want to hear.” he tells you.

“you’ve told me everything i need to know, minho. i will.. try to be more open from now on.” you promise.

“then how about we start with what has my world so worked up. i don’t want you to cry anymore.”

© 2023 minkkumaz, all rights reserved support your writers by reblogging + giving feedback! it is greatly encouraged and appreciated. thank you! → why feedback + reblogging is so important. ~ (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ if you'd like, donate to minkkumaz ! PIERCE THE VEIL series

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yournameloveskpop · 3 months

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Jealousy

Paring: Lee Know x Reader

Style: SFW, Angst, Fluff, Romance, Friendship

Word count: 743

Summery: Lee Know gets jealous over Hyunjin and Y/N closeness to the point he needs to leave for fresh air. Hyunjin suggests that y/N follows after him.

Minho's gaze lingered on y/n and Hyunjin, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He tried to focus on the conversation around him, but his attention kept drifting back to them. They were close, too close for his liking. Hyunjin's laughter echoed in his ears, and the sight of him being so tactile with y/n made Minho's heart clench uncomfortably.

A flash of annoyance crossed his face when Hyunjin casually wrapped an arm around y/n's waist, pulling her in for a selfie. His lips brushed her cheek in a playful peck, and that was the last straw for Minho. He abruptly stood up, his chair scraping against the floor, drawing startled glances from everyone. Without a word, he stormed out of the room, leaving a tense silence behind.

Outside, the cool air did little to calm his racing heart. Minho leaned against the wall, trying to process his feelings. It was no secret among the group that he harbored deep affection for y/n, but he had always kept these emotions to himself, especially around her.

Back inside, Hyunjin nudged y/n gently, a knowing look in his eyes. "You should go check on him," he suggested softly. "He might not say it, but he cares about you a lot."

Y/n hesitated for a moment, then nodded, understanding the unspoken feelings that Minho harbored. With a determined look, she excused herself and headed out to find Minho, hoping to bridge the gap that had formed between them. Y/n approached Minho with caution, her heart pounding in her chest. She found him still leaning against the wall, his figure tense. "Minho?" she called out softly, hoping not to startle him.

He looked up, his expression initially hard. "What are you doing here, y/n?" His voice had an edge, but his eyes betrayed a warmth that contradicted his words.

"I just wanted to make sure you're okay," she replied, stepping closer. "You seemed upset."

Minho scoffed lightly, trying to maintain his composure. "I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me."

Y/n noticed the strain in his voice, realizing that there was more to his feelings than he was letting on. "Minho, talk to me. What's going on?"

He hesitated, then let out a heavy sigh. "It's just... seeing you with Hyunjin. It's hard, you know?"

Y/n's heart skipped a beat. She had always sensed a certain tension from Minho, but she hadn't realized the depth of his feelings. "Minho, I..."

Before she could finish, Minho's emotions overflowed. "It's like I'm invisible to you whenever he's around. You’re with him all the time and I can't stand it, y/n. I can't..."

Not knowing how else to respond, y/n stepped forward and gently pressed her lips against his, silencing his words. The kiss was soft and tentative, a question more than a statement.

Minho froze for a moment, stunned. Then, slowly, he began to respond, his arms wrapping around her waist as he pulled her closer. The kiss deepened, filled with the pent-up emotions he had been holding back.

Meanwhile, back with the group, everyone turned to look at Hyunjin. The atmosphere was thick with unspoken questions.

"Did you know about this?" Changbin asked, his eyes wide.

Hyunjin just shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "I had a hunch," he admitted. "But I wasn't sure until now."

"Wow, I didn't see that coming," Felix commented, his eyes still fixed on the door where y/n had exited.

Seungmin nodded in agreement. "They always had a special connection, but I never thought..."

Han chimed in, "Well, it's about time, right? They've been dancing around each other for ages."

The group fell into a speculative chatter, wondering about the implications of this new development in Minho and y/n's relationship.

Back outside, Minho and y/n slowly broke the kiss, each searching the other's face for answers. "I've liked you for a long time, y/n," Minho confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/n's heart soared. "I had no idea, Minho. I just thought..."

He cupped her face gently, his gaze intense but full of affection. "No more thinking. Let's just be here, together."

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's embrace, the world around them fading into the background. It was a new beginning for both of them, a chance to explore what had been hidden in their hearts for so long.

#stray kids lee know #stray kids minho #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x female reader #lee minho #lee minho x reader #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lino x reader #skz lee know #skz minho #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x female reader #stray kids x female reader

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coupsie-daisies · 4 months

Text

Kinktober '23: Begging | Lee Minho

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), Kinktober 2023, College AU

Summary: A drunken encounter with a friend at a frat party leads to a possessive side of Minho that you never expected to see

WC: 2.8k

Warnings: heavy dom/sub dynamics, mean dom!Minho, jealousy, alcohol consumption, name calling (whore, slut), sir/master kink, reader is called kitten, spanking, fingering, implications of subspace, feelings, mild exhibitionism if you squint

A/N: I'm actually like,,,,really proud of this one so please please let me know what you think and maybe give it a reblog if you're feeling generous?

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha / @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

It was a dumb idea, you knew that when you decided to do it, but you were never one to pass up on a good time. A party at the boys' was always a good time. So you had dressed yourself up with your girls, making the walk across campus to the looming frat house in front of you.

The music was spilling out onto the lawn alongside the chatting partygoers needing a break from the heat and noise of the inside. Among them you found Jeongin laughing with Beomgyu as the latter told him some story that necessitated wild gesturing and amusing facials. You waved as you made your way past into the house with Goeun following close behind you.

The warmth of the house hit you first, making goosebumps rise on your exposed arms, then the smell of alcohol and weed and the general musk of sweat that came with too many people cooped up in too few rooms hit and you scrunched up your nose. You'd adjust, but that was always the worst part of the party in your opinion.

The music was loud, the bass booming through your chest and leaving you feeling a little disconnected from reality, washing out the hum of conversations around you as you weaved in and out of the crowd, searching for one of the boys, or maybe a drink you could get yourself going with. Luckily for you, you found both of those things at the same time.

"You came! Good to see you," Chan said with a grin, pulling you into a hug before turning around and pouring a couple of different drinks into a cup and pressing it into your hand. "Minho should be around here somewhere, he's probably looking for you."

He poured his own drink while you took a sip of yours, scrunching up your nose.

"What the hell even is this?" You asked him, moving past him to pour more fruit punch into the cup to mask the brick wall that was the amount of alcohol in it. Chan laughed, taking a drink of his.

"Jisung's newest concoction. He says it doesn't leave you hungover. We'll see about that in the morning." He said. You laughed, shifting out of the way as more partygoers came in to find their drinks.

Chan was actually the first of the frat members that you'd met. He had tutored you in one of your classes, inviting you to the end of semester shindig they'd thrown. Which was where you met the others. Where you'd met Lee Minho.

Minho was your best friend at this point, the two of you fitting together in a way that you hadn't known you could fit with someone. He was smart, and funny, and just weird enough to take you by surprise over and over again. People had their preconceived notions about him, and you couldn't begin to understand where they came from. But what was more, that party was the first time you'd slept with Minho.

It had been some drunken encounter, the two of you kissing on a dare, and finding that you really weren't so against kissing each other. Or touching each other. Or fucking each other absolutely dumb. But it had never been weird after that, there was no real reason for it to be as you moved on with your lives as close friends, turning to each other when you wanted to relax. Sometimes that would mean going to the arcade, and sometimes that meant ending up in his bed and getting knowing looks from his brothers the next day.

Everyone knew about your arrangement, it wasn't something that either of you thought to keep a secret. That was sort of immature in your opinion, acting like grown adults couldn't have sex and still be normal about it. As if everything in a relationship boiled down to your knowledge of each other's bodies. And, most importantly, you weren't exclusive. The two of you had slept with other people, albeit rarely and - in your case at least - with very little satisfaction.

So it wasn't blasphemous for you to be dancing with Chan after that drink kicked in, even if he was a little more bold than he would usually be. His giggle in your ear when you played with his hair sent tingles down your spine, and the music drove the two of you to press closer. You had just been talking really, sharing stories about your past few months and the break that the two of you had both gone home for. You couldn't exactly remember how his hands ended up on your hips, or how your back was turned to him, arms snaking up around his shoulders as you looked at him over your shoulders,

The part you remembered the least, however, was winding up in Minho's bed, waking up with a raging headache and the lights boring into your still closed eyes. You groaned, rolling over and burying your face in the pillow only to hear Minho clear his throat.

"Wake up. I brought you water. And advil." He said, tossing the bottle of painkillers at you. His voice was sharper than you were used to, or maybe that was just the hangover. You made a mental note to tell Jisung that he was a bitch ass liar next time you saw him.

"You're good to me." You praised. He hummed, sitting on the edge of the bed and passing you the glass of water. You took a long swallow, sighing out in relief of the way that it eased the dryness in your throat.

"Have fun last night?" He asked. You closed your eyes.

"I think so? Must have cuz I don't think I remember most of it. Not after my third drink. Except when Goeun went home and left me with you." You said, rolling onto your side to look at him. Minho looked better than you figured you did, but he didn't generally drink much at the parties. If anything he'd get high and watch you make a fool of yourself with his friends. Which, you assumed, is exactly what you did last night. "So what did I miss?"

"Other than you practically fucking Chan in front of everyone?" He looked at you, jaw set tight, and you pushed yourself to sit up.

"There's no way that happened." You argued, and he rolled his eyes.

"It definitely fucking did. He was all over you, pretty sure you would have let him bend you over the beer pong table if he'd asked. Didn't know he was your type." He took the water, taking a drink from it himself before putting it down on the bedside table.

"He's not. We were just drunk and you know how we both are when we drink. We were just being friendly. You're overreacting, Min."

He moved so fast, so easily that it made you jump. In a single moment he was hovering over you, eyes dark and boring into you with your faces only inches apart.

"Am I? Overreacting? Or are you just so fucking neglected that you'd let anyone try to fuck you stupid?" He snapped. Your eyes went wide, stomach twisting with guilt and maybe just a little bit of arousal. He didn't generally talk down to you like that. He didn't actually talk much at all when he had you like this. You were beginning to wonder why not.

"No," You answered, voice sounding weak and small. He chuckled, reaching up to grab your jaw.

"No what?"

"No, sir, wouldn't let anyone fuck me. Don't want anyone else," You answered quickly.

"Took everything in me not to bring you up here and fuck you last night." He hissed, lips clashing against yours. He tasted minty and cool against your tongue, and you didn't want to imagine what you tasted like after last night, but he clearly didn't pay it any mind, diving into you and driving the kiss so hungrily that you were struggling to keep up. "But you were so wasted off your ass I couldn't do that. Wasn't gonna let anyone else do it either. But he fucking tried. He'd be stupid not to."

Then his mouth was trailing down your throat, nipping at the skin and suckling over the spot that he knew drove you wild every time. You squirmed under him, your fingers falling into his hair only for him to grab your wrist and pin it back against the bed.

You knew you'd have a mark by the time he was done, a big one if the stinging just under your jaw was any clue. He'd never marked you up before, and the feeling had you soaked already. You whined his name, and he left a harsh bite to your skin before pulling back to look at you.

"Please," You mumbled, feeling downright pathetic with the way he was looking at you.

"Please what?" He coaxed, voice condescendingly sweet. You rubbed your thighs together, trying to relieve the pressure that was distracting you.

"Please fuck me, need you so bad." You said. He laughed then, truly laughed at your plea.

"You think you deserve that? After trying to whore yourself out to my friend last night? I was right there, kitten, could have taken care of you but instead you decided to play games. And you lost." He said, moving back to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.

You were left just in one of his oversized shirts that he must have helped you change into before you fell asleep. He sat back, patting his lap. You squirmed, knowing exactly what was coming next. You knew better than to make him ask twice, but even as you moved to lay yourself over his lap, you whined.

"Sir, please. Didn't mean to be bad. Don't want punishment." You pouted. He scoffed, just pushing your shirt up so he could see the curve of your ass fully. He kneaded the supple flesh under his palm, listening to your begging before landing a slap against your ass.

You hissed, your legs kicking up in an attempt to escape. But Minho knew how you reacted, pushing your legs back down without even bothering to warn you.

"Do you ever want a punishment, kitten? Isn't that the point? You misbehave, you get punished. And Master is the one who decides when you get punished." He reminded you, smoothing his hand over the spot he'd spanked to soothe the burn. You whined, but nodded anyway.

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry! I'm really sorry." You promised him. And you were. You would never come on to the boys if you were sober, especially not Channie. And you would most certainly not want any of them to take care of you the way Minho does.

He didn't answer, just landed two more spanks against your ass, holding you tight when you writhed away from the pain. You sniffled, turning to look at him. He was watching you, eyes traveling up your legs, over the abused flesh of your ass, along to your waist, then he met your eyes.

"How many more do you deserve?" He asked. He always asked that question after the first few, once he was truly pushing you into your headspace. You pouted.

"Three more?" You asked. He nodded. He almost never argued with your decisions on the matter. After all, punishments were learning experiences and you knew what you needed.

"Good girl." He said, barely finishing before his hand came down on one cheek, then the other, then back again. You kicked your legs up again, and this time he let you, running his warm palms over your thighs.

"Can you touch me now?" You asked. He smiled, helping you back onto your position on the bed.

"Yeah, kitty, now I can touch you. Did so good." He promised, moving to kneel between your thighs. His fingers moved faster than you expected, knuckles brushing against your aching pussy and making you jolt, a tiny gasp falling from your lips.

"Please, please don't tease. I need it." You huffed, and he pressed a kiss to your lips.

"I know, I've got you. Just relax." He hummed as his fingertips slid between your folds, coating his fingers in your arousal and teasing against your clit with every swipe. It wasn't enough, but this was his favorite part. He liked working you up higher and higher and higher, he always said that it made it so much prettier when you came tumbling down.

His thumb found your clit, rubbing light circles against it, and your hips chased the feeling, needing a little more pressure, but still he eased off, never letting you get as close as you wanted to. Once you were finally relaxing into the feeling, he stopped, taking the opportunity to ease two long fingers into your eager hole.

You moaned, head lolling back against his pillow as he slid deeper into you, filling your hole with his fingers and curling them expertly in just the way that made you fall apart. His pace picked up gradually, his fingers pistoning into you and squelching in your wetness, the lewd sound serving to drive you closer to the end. He loved how wet you got for him, how desperate your body was for his touch. It went straight to his head. Both of them, actually.

"Close. Please can I cum?" You gasped out, fingers twisting into the blanket beneath you. Minho hummed as if thinking about it, all while moving his thumb against your clit in a messy slide that had you struggling to focus your vision. "Master,"

The title was a whine, pathetic and high and exactly the way he loved it.

"Beg for it. Show me how bad you want it." He decided, his hand coming to press against your lower abdomen slightly as his fingers bullied your gspot. You cursed loudly, panting with the attempt to keep from tipping over the edge without his permission.

"Min, please. Fuck, I need it so bad. Need to cum for you, need you to make me feel good. Can't hold it, just wanna cum on your fingers. Master, please," You couldn't lay still as you begged him to make you feel good. He took a minute to think as he continued fingering you.

"Could anyone else make your pussy cream like this?" He asked, and you shook your head adamantly, barely even processing the question. "Would you beg for Channie-hyung like this, hm? Let Jisung-ah use you like a little slut?"

"No! Never, just you. Promise, I'm just for you. All yours." You wailed. "Minho, please. Please I can't, I'm-" Your voice cut off in a sob, tears leaking from your eyes and wetting your cheeks as you tried to writhe away from the torment.

"Cum for me, then." He said. You weren't sure if you heard the words or if your body just reacted, but your pussy clenched around his fingers, sucking them in and soaking them in your cum. A scream of his name ripped from your throat, certainly loud enough for the others to hear, and his only response was a satisfied smirk. He worked you through the orgasm, waiting patiently for you to float back down to earth. It took a moment for your vision to clear up and your ears to stop ringing. When they did, you looked up at him, watching the way he lapped your juices off of his hand as if it were his favorite treat.

"Min," You whined, reaching out to him. He crashed against you, pulling you close and peppering your face with kisses.

"Such a good girl. You were amazing." He promised, pulling back to look at your face and using the back of his hand to wipe away any trace of tears. "Feel okay?"

You nodded, snuggling closer to him and breathing in his scent, the body wash he used and the warm cologne that lingered on his skin.

"Minho?" You mumbled, looking up at him. He reached down, brushing a lock of hair from your face with the fondest eyes.

"Yes?"

"I don't want anyone else. Just you." You promised him, nuzzling closer. "I always just wanted you."

"I always just wanted you too. I'm all yours, don't worry." He promised, tipping your chin up to press a kiss to your lips, and you melted into him, the lines between friendship and partners blurring and fading away until it was just you and Minho and nobody else in the world mattered in the least.

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1025flora · 5 months

Text

bf texts with lee minho

a/n not a ton here but i may do a part two!?!?!?!? lmk if u want that 🙏

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pyramid-of-starrs · 6 months

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seriously I'm so interested in your story about vampire minho and biting likeeee cannot wait ❣️

The Mansion in the woods

Kinktober request: 5 Vampire Leeknow, Biting

Pairing: Vampire LeeKnow x afab reader

Summary: You decided to take a scary camping trip with your friends and end up exploring the mansion in the woods. You find a ring that changes the entire course of your life.

Word Count: 3.0K

Kink: Biting

Warning: Biting, blood, fangs, unprotected sex

A/N: I was on vacation but I'm back lol, this isn't great but enjoy!

Minors dni

"Okay Y/N you're next, truth or dare?" I.N asked as he took a swig of his beer and asked as the fire cracked louder, the cold fall winds blew but the alcohol and blazing campfire kept you and your friends warm. The sweater given to you by your crush Han also kept you pretty cozy. You and a few of your friends decided to do a random camping trip this fall and when your best friend Yuna told you that Han and his friends would be there you were all in. After a long day of failed fishing and hiking you and your friends ate then the boys made a fire for everyone to sit around, a few shots and beers later you all started playing truth or dare, Chan having to jump in the freezing river naked and Lia having to tell the truth about her and Felix, now it was your turn.

"Dare." You answered trying to seem cool for everyone.

"Hmm... I dare you to spend the night at that creepy mansion in the woods." Right, the whole reason you were there in the first place, Changbin had heard a rumor about this older mansion deep in the woods and suggested that the group all go visit it. Yeji and a few of the other girls said it would be too scary, so the group landed on just camping nearby.

"By herself ?? Nah man pick something else." Han interjected, it made your face hot the way he jumped in to protect you.

"Then you go with her bodyguard Han." Chan said in a mocking tone.

"Why don't you go since you're the one suggesting it." Ryujin jumped in, everyone started to argue back and forth then you spoke up.

"Why don't we all go, it could be like a test of courage to see who can stay the longest, that was originally supposed to be the point of this trip anyways right?" when you finished talking everyone looked around at each other.

...

After about a 15 minute walk the group made it, everyone stood in front of the abandoned home after all the boys worked together to pry the mansions rusted gates open.

"Well... ladies first." Seungmin said then Changbin punched him in the arm.

"Come on guys, it can't be that bad right?" Hyunjin said looking at everyone hoping someone would agree. After much hesitation the group finally entered the house. The foyer was dusty but overall, the house was actually in much better shape than you thought it would be outside of the dust, vines and cobwebs. Everyone ventured deeper into the home, eventually everyone split up into their own groups, your heart was racing from fear but also because now you were alone with Han.

"Stay behind me Y/N, here hold my hand." Han reached his hand back for you to grab it as you both continued to walk but you tripped over a deep crack in the floor and fell on top of him instead. That's how you ended up here on top of your crush, both of you just gazing at each other.

"S-sorry, I tripped." You stuttered out, your brain started to short circuit.

"Y/N I.N told me you liked me, is that true?" he looked directly into your eyes and your face was flushed.

"Y-yeah."

Han wasted no time after your confirmation and kissed you, once you were over your state of shock you kissed him back, leaning deeper into him, you didn't think your first time with Han would be on the dirty floor of a possibly haunted mansion but the way he was gripping your ass and his tongue was exploring your mouth who knows. As the kiss continued the door to the room flew open and it startled the both of you, you looked back to see Chan with the group of your friends.

"See, I told ya'll they were fucking not killed by a ghost." Seungmin said, embarrassment written all over your face. You got up and helped Han up on the way up.

"Well, I'm so glad you two were in here getting chummy, come on lets go Ryujin fell and twisted her ankle, so we have to take her back to base camp." Chan said, you looked over to see Changbin holding Ryujin on his back. The group exited the room and left you and Han there.

“Let's head back then." He looked at you and smiled, while on your way out you saw a something bling in the corner of your eye under one of the chairs in the room, as Han continued out the room you ran over to investigate, it was a ring with a dark purple jewel in the middle, something about it was so alluring. You picked it up and it was almost like a voice telling you to put the ring on, you slid it onto your ring finger, and it fit perfectly, suddenly the rooms temperature drastically dropped, before you could acknowledge it Han called your name and you left.

...

It's been a week since the camping trip and everything was back to normal, you hadn't talk to Han about the kiss but honestly that was the last thing on your mind right now. You have barely been able to sleep since that day, always feeling like someone is watching you in the distance even when you are home alone or in your room, hearing a very random yet familiar voice in your head trying to tell you something and you keep having dreams about a man, a very handsome man that you never met before. The dream would be about you in the house in the forest, when you walked in the man just stood there with beautiful silver hair and gorgeous red eyes, you know you've never met this man before yet his aura felt so familiar, every time you tried to get closer to him you were awaken from your sleep. Later that night you decided that tonight would be the night that you would confront the man in your dreams. You laid down for bed and there you were, back in the forest standing in front of the abandoned mansion, when you walked through the doors you saw him standing at the top of the stairs looking down at you.

"W-who are you?" you yelled out, however that man didn't respond, instead he continued to watch you with a grin on his face.

"What do you want? Are you the one that's been watching me ?" again no response.

"Do you know me?" he slightly giggled at your question and stopped toying with you.

"Come back to see me if you want me to answer your questions my love." He walked away, his figure disappearing into the dark hallways of the mansion, before you could ask any more you were woken up, you were drenched in sweat and your mouth was dry, you needed to find out who this mystery man was.

...

You couldn't wait anymore and took a cold shower to wash off your sweat then got dressed and headed to the woods. You found yourself standing in front of the mansion door, you pushed the old door open and entered the foyer like in your dreams. You stood in the middle of the room and looked around to find no one but the room was chilled, you shivered and flashed your light around the room to find nothing.

"Hello?" you yelled out, no response but there was a whisper.

"Come to me my love..." You heard the voice echo, it came from up the stairs. You walked up the stairs, you felt beckoned to the master bedroom, you could see a light coming from under the door. You entered the bedroom, it was a decorated room with a large bed with red and black sheets and a comforter, the room with had electricity and was the only part of the house that was warm.

"Hello?" you called out again, that when the door to the connected bathroom open, steam seeped out and a man with a towel on came out. He had another towel to dry his wet hair, he tossed it to the side then gripped the towel sitting on his waist.

"You've finally arrived my love." the man’s cat like sharp eyes met yours and it made your heart skip a beat.

"Wh-who are you?" you asked hesitantly.

The man walked over to you, he stopped just in front of you, the room got cold, but you could feel the heat of his damp body. You looked down as your face started to heat up, he placed his fingers on your chin and lifted your face.

"Your heart, mind and body didn't tell you beloved ? I am the man of your dreams."

Thats when your eyes got wide, and you darted your eyes to his.

"It's you... you're the guy from my dreams, how? Why? What are y-" before you could spew anymore questions, he silenced you by kissing your lips. Though the kiss caught you off guard you didn't stop him at first since the kiss felt warm and welcoming, this wasn't like the kiss you shared with Han, for some reason this had meaning. Eventually you pushed off of him, his body stayed firm, and you took steps back.

"What are you doing?!" you demanded an answer, the man giggled at you.

"I guess I'll introduce myself, I am Minho, the owner of this house and your fiancé." as he talked, you lifted your eyebrow at the last part.

"Fiancé???" you questioned, and he smiled.

"Yes my love, fiancé, the ring you put on that you found in our home, it's an enchanted item I brought with me from home, it's meant to only be able to be worn by my soulmate, meaning only my true love can wear it, Truthfully I lost it years ago and gave up on finding love. I thought I was damned to roam this world alone for an eternity, that is until you came along and found it. Once you slipped it onto your lovely finger, we became soul bonded." He moved his hand from your chin to cup you hand bring it to his lips to kiss the ring, the beautiful purple jewel on the ring glowed for a moment and your heart started to beat faster.

"Wait, what do you mean for eternity... what are you?" Minho knew the question would come up at some point but he was surprised you caught on so fast, many humans can't tell he isn't one of them, instead of answering you he flashed his red eyes and open his mouth slightly, his k9 teeth began to grow into fangs and his nails grew into sharp talons. You stepped back a bit to drink in his slightly different appearance.

"Oh my god so you're saying accidentally soul bonded myself to a fucking vampire?" you said as you started to panic.

" Well, I'm old fashioned and prefer the name Nosferatu but yes vampire works as well. It's funny when I lured you and your friends to my manor my only intention was to drain you all but finding you, my love, was the ultimate outcome, I'll even forgive you for kissing that peasant human boy." His teeth and nails reverted back to normal, and he walked over to the bed to sit down.

"Right, Han... I've been so focused on thinking about you that I haven't went to see him... so, what happens now?" You questioned.

"Well, before we can marry, I have to turn you so we can spend our lives together." once he finished, he waved his hand for you to come closer, so you walked over to him.

"How would you do that, do you just bite me?" He smiled at you once you finished your question.

"Yes, but don't worry." He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his lap, he crossed his hands over your waist and placed his lips on your neck, you were both facing the same direction so you couldn't see what he was doing which made you feel shy. "I'll make this fun for both of us."

Minho reached his hand into your pants and slowly ran his fingers over your panty covered clit, a soft moan left your lips as his other hand reached for your breast and began to gently massage your fleshy mound. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder exposing you beautiful neck to him, a devious smile flashed on his face. you had your eyes closed then you felt a sting sensation on your neck and a feeling of liquid running down, you yelped at the pain but the sensation felt amazing, Minho had sunk his teeth into you, he removed his fangs from your neck and he started to lick up the blood, before you could enjoy the feeling of his tongue fully a burning sensation rushed through your body.

"Ah, Minho... I feel so hot." you said as you felt your body heating up and becoming more sensitive, suddenly the feeling of his fangs touching you and was driving you crazy.

"Don't worry beautiful, that’s just my venom entering your blood stream, I have to bite you a few more times so you can be nice and full of me." once he finished his moved his hands from your core to your waistband to inch your panty and pants off, you helped him because you wanted him, right now. Once your pants were off you spread your legs wide for him, he moved his fingers back to your core, you hadn't noticed how wet you were for him as he slid his 2 fingers into you with ease. Your moans could be heard throughout the empty mansion as he continued to work his digits in and out of your needy cunt and his tongue danced around the new holes on your neck until he kissed his way to your shoulder blade. The pace of his fingers sped up, your moans getting louder as you felt your climax on the rise, your hips bucked as you felt his pipe hard length growing under his towel, he detached his lips from your shoulder.

"Cum for me my love." He continued to pump his fingers into you, as you focused on how amazing his fast pace felt, you felt him bite into your shoulder, you yelled out a string of moans feeling your shoulder throb with pain as his fangs dug deep into you. You covered his fingers in cum as he pulled them out slowly and brought them to your lips, he didn't need to say anything you opened wide and took his digits into your hot mouth as you sucked all of your slick off of them, he popped his fingers from your mouth and you huffed and puffed heavily. You had never felt this way before, your entire body was hot like you had a fever, yet you were shivering, all you wanted was Minho, he was the only thing on your mind, the only want.

"Please, Minho, please fuck me, I need you so bad, I need your dick in me please." you started to beg, a tear sat at the corner of your eyes as you continued to buck your hips, your pussy was leaking and needy still.

"Of course my queen, I'll fill you up with my venom and my cum." he gently laid your hot body back onto the bed and crawled up to you, he clicked the bedside lamp off and removed the remainder of your clothes along with his towel, he couldn't help but to stop and stare as he looked over your body as it shined in the moonlight. "How was I so lucky to find such a beautiful wife." Your face heated up as he complimented you.

"When I take you home one day everyone will be so jealous of my beautiful wife, so perfect and made just for me." He continued as he gripped your legs and pulled you closer them placed them on his shoulders. He lined his dick up with your entrance then slowly sank into you, you felt like screaming, the sensation was like no other, you needed every inch of him in you, you felt feral like a wild animal in heat, he bottomed out in you then watched your face to make sure you were comfortable.

"Please, Minho, fuck me, break me." You begged, and he listened, he didn't waste another second and started to drill into you deeply, his long dick reaching your spot easily as he beat down your gummy walls with no hesitation.

"I'm going to make you all mine Y/N, would you like that?" he groaned out as your walls squeezed him.

"Yes please~ Make me all yours Minho, I want to be yours, I want to belong to only you." He hissed at your words, his pace becoming sloppy and animalistic, your tears started to flow as he pounded into, he drew his fangs once again you watched his eyes glow as his pupils split like a cat then he bit into your thigh, you yelled out once again as you came, you felt a rush of his seed begin to spill into your core, it was hot as he filled you up, he removed his teeth from your thigh and sucked and licked your blood, he wiped your blood from his mouth then laid next to you.

You both breathed heavily then you cupped his face and kissed him deeply, the metallic taste of your blood still on his tongue, you pulled back the kiss then pulled him into your body, he pulled the covers over your naked forms and held you tightly.

"Minho, I love you?" you said.

"I love you too beautiful and please, you can call me Lino, Minho is my royal court name." he said as he kissed your forehead

"Royal court??"

"I'll explain it later."

#kinktober 2023 #writenbypyramidofstars #leeknow smut #lee minho x reader #minho x reader #lee minho smut #lino smut #lino x reader #minho x you #minho smut #skz smut #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut

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yangjeonginniepics · 1 year

Text

Minor DNI. Mature/explicit content read at your own discretion. 18+ 🔞🔞🔞

Minho x sub!Reader

wordcount: 682

Cw: Smut, oral sex (M receiving), mentioned polyamory, free use, cum eating, cumming on food, dirty, dirty language, degrading, pet play, eating from a bowl.

Hello this is my first work here. English is not my first language and I alwqys had a hard time writing, but I decided to give myself this challenge. I accept constructive feedbacks but please be kind.

You woke up feeling dizzy, messy hair, dry mouth and that weird and familiar taste lingeringin your tongue. Standing up you made your way out of whomever's room you were in and made your way to the kitchen of your shared apartment being greeted by three of your roommates who were fixing themselves their breakfast.

"Had fun last night?" You heard Changbin chuckle as he held his laughter. "You ate so much I tought you were going to puke"

"There's no way she would puke, that's her favourite and her main source of protein. With how often she eats it, it's almost like breathing" Minho gave you a side smirk as he made fun of you "Do you want to eat anything? I can make it for you. But I am going to need your help."

Hearing that Changbin groaned and lifted himself off his chair while rolling his head in annoyance. "I really don't feel like it right now, you guys have fun" He left the of you alone in the kitchen.

Minho gave a weird look towards the direction Bin went but quickly turned to you as you approached the counter he was leaning over. "What do you want? Toast? Eggs? Rice? Ceareal? C'mon aswer me baby" He hooked his finger under your chin and made you look up to him "What's wrong? cat got your tongue?"

"Eggs" You shyly aswered still avoiding his eyes, to wich he responded by giving you a small smile.

"See that wasn't so hard now was it?" He said without wainting for you to reply as he turned to grab a pan and eggs so he could start cooking. "Well now you know what to do so this eggs turn out perfect for you" He kept doing what he had to to fry the eggs while turning his body slightly sideways for your better access.

"Goooo, whats taking you so long?" he gave you a side eye while you got onto you knees in front of him.

You pulled his pants down to reveal his already aching cock and wasted no time licking all over it before taking it into your mouth.

"I have to admit, Sungie was a visionary when he proposed the lingerie rule. At first I thought it would be hard because that was how we would be all the time ...." he took a deep breath before continuing "but it's not like we have to restrain ourselves at any moment, all it does is give us better access to your delicious body."

You kept sucking as he turned his attention more towards the stove to make sure he wouldn't burn anything. His precum and your saliva were now allover your cheeks and chin as you messing devoured his dick, absolutely addicted to the wight of his cock on your mouth not wanting to let go. You could feel the small twitchs it made along a few grunts from minho indicating he was close. He gave your head a little shove away from him but you refused to let go.

"I know you're a little cockwhore with nothing more than dicks in your mind, but you still listen to me you dumb slut." He said while slapping your face and getting you off of him. He gave himself a few more tucks before cumming on the eggs he was cooking and plating it.

Plating maybe a too generous of a word, he put the cum topped eggs into your little bowl and placed on the floor.

"There you go pet, enjoy your breakfast" he said tucking himself into his pants and leaving you alone in the kitchen to eat the burnt eggs he cooked for you.

You dug your head into the bowl, not that the eggs were good, but you were absolutely addicted to the taste of your partners' cum and could not let it go to waste.

As you ate head down on the floor you failed to notice the figure hungrily staring at you pulsating asshole that showed how happy you were with your meal.

----

I did not proofread it because if I did I would never post it, so I am taking this moment of courage to do so. Hope you like it, please let me know if you did so I might keep doing this as a series.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #minho smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lino smut #lino x reader #skz x reader

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sluttywonwoo · 4 months

Text

instead of you [part thirty-six] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, alcohol

word count: 3k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

“Nice hat.”

You gave Minho a sideways look. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s cute.”

You tipped the brim at him, grinning. “Thank you. Jisung picked it out.”

“He has good taste.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to the double entendre so you didn’t, choosing instead to direct your attention forward, where your fake boyfriend was teeing up.

Back at school, Jisung had gone off to play golf with a few of your mutual friends once or twice, but it was an expensive hobby, and as broke college students, they couldn’t exactly make a habit out of it. For a little while, Jisung worked as an assistant chef at a nearby country club for a couple of months which allowed him free access to their course in his off time, but juggling the job and his studies quickly became too much to handle and he couldn’t even keep up with his responsibilities, let alone have any free time to take advantage of the course.

Considering how long it had been since he last played, you weren’t expecting much from Jisung’s first swing, but when he stuck the golf ball with his club, it actually went relatively far. Of course, you didn’t have much knowledge of the sport to go off of when it came to gauging how well he was actually doing, but from the looks on his brothers’ faces, you assumed he’d done pretty well.

“Good job!” you cheered, running up to your best friend and kissing him on the cheek. “That was good right?”

He caught you with an arm around your waist and pulled you close. “Thanks, baby. It wasn’t bad, but it could have been better.”

“Whatever, you’re just being humble.”

“He’s not,” Felix piped up from behind the two of you. “Let me show you how a real golfer plays.”

You rolled your eyes in unison with Jisung but stepped back to let Felix tee up anyway, both watching as he took a couple of practice swings.

“How much do you want to bet he comes in last?” Jisung muttered in your ear.

“I’m not willing to go bankrupt over this, sorry.”

Jisung snorted and tried to muffle his laugh in your shoulder but it was still loud enough for his twin to hear.

“Oi! I don’t want to hear it when you’re up thirty points over me.”

“Yeah, we’ll see, Lix,” Jisung scoffed. “Just swing already! We don’t have all day, mate.”

Felix shot his brother a look but did as he was told. He rolled his shoulders and focused in on the ball, huffing out a breath and drawing the club back over his shoulder. He put more power into his swing than Jisung had but hit the ball with the edge of the clubhead instead of the center which sent it flying a little off to the left. From what you could see, the ball still landed on the pitch. It hadn’t gone into the trees or the lake, it was just in a trickier spot to clear.

“What was that you were saying about points?” Jisung asked smugly.

Felix groaned and turned back around to argue with him as Minho came up and took his place at the starting point.

“It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?” you muttered to Minho.

He gave you a tight half-smile and shrugged. “You have no idea.”

It had only been an hour since the boys started and you didn’t think you’d ever heard so many insults and curse words thrown around in such a short amount of time, which was saying something.

Jisung, Felix, and Minho were all neck and neck with each other, with Dom far ahead of all three of them.

The course itself was beautiful. It was just across the street from the resort you were staying at, right on the edge of the water. You were able to see the ocean from the tops of the faux hills on the green, sparkling with the reflection of the sun. The waves were dotted with little boats and surfers all enjoying the good weather and making the most out of the afternoon.

You would have been content to spend all day there if it wasn’t so hot and you weren’t forced to stand around listening to your best friend argue with his brothers.

“How many more holes are there?” you asked Nikki, leaning over and whispering quietly so that the others wouldn’t hear you.

“Too many.”

“Kill me now.”

“Why don’t we get ourselves a drink when the cart girl comes around? It’ll make the time go faster.”

You grinned. “I like the way you think.”

You weren’t a stranger to day drinking, not by a long shot, but you didn’t want to get too sloppy while the sun was still up. You had long since given up on the little pact you’d made with yourself not to drink for the remainder of the trip— not that you’d ever really followed it in the first place. Nikki got herself a High Noon when the aforementioned cart girl came by, so you did the same, insisting on covering the tab for both of you.

“Please?” you practically begged. “It’s literally the least I can do after everything you’ve done for me.”

She seemed to think about it for a minute. “Fine. I’ll let you do it this one time. But don’t get used to it.”

You did a little dance in celebration and handed over some cash to the cart girl after she popped the tabs on both of your cans.

“Want anything?” you called to the boys. “It’s on me!”

Felix was the only one to take you up on the offer, both Minho and Jisung making a fuss about not spending your money on them. Where was this attitude back at school? you asked yourself, scoffing at Jisung’s refusal.

“I’m in the lead, I can’t afford to lower my inhibitions now!” Dom said. “But when I win, I’ll treat you to a pint, even though you’re canoodling with one of my opponents.”

“I’m starting to think you guys have something against me,” you accused the two non-participants as you handed Felix his beer. “What, do you think I’m broke?”

“We’re just gentlemen,” Minho said pointedly, shooting Felix a look.

“You are broke,” Jisung muttered.

“Watch it,” you shot, waving your drink at him. “You’re not getting a sip now.”

“Babe, I didn’t want a sip to begin with.”

“Okay, well even if you change your mind you can’t have one.”

He laughed and shook his head at the ground, walking back over to the teeing-off point with his hands on his hips.

Nikki was right, the afternoon did indeed pass a lot quicker with drinks in your hands. They kept you cool in the heat of the sun and the alcohol made the hours blend into each other.

In the latter half of the game, you started to pay more attention. You had finally begun to pick up what was good and what was bad from everyone else’s reactions to the shots and could actually tell for yourself.

“Baby, can you switch this out for the driver?” Jisung asked, holding his current club out to you.

“Which one is that?”

“The big one.”

You selected the club he described and passed it to him, taking the one he’d just used to put back in the golf bag. He kissed you when you met him in the middle to swap the two, smiling against you when he noticed Minho looking on.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it,” he whispered in your ear. “It’s too fun to fuck with him.”

Confused, you turned around to see what he was talking about only to see Minho standing a few feet away with his tongue in his cheek.

“Thanks, baby,” Jisung said, putting his hand on the small of your back to remind you of what you were doing. “You make a cute caddy.”

Minho mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t catch but you figured that was probably for the best.

After golf, you hung out with Jisung’s family at the pool for a few hours before heading back up to the rooms to get ready for dinner.

“Do we need to dress nice?” you asked.

Jisung peeked out from the bathroom to answer you, shaking his wet hair dry with a towel.

“Uh, not like nice, nice but nicer than just jeans.”

“Okay, I can do that.”

You turned back to your open suitcase and rifled through it in search of something that fit the dress code.

“By the way, where did you go last night?”

“With Minho?”

“Yeah, you were gone for like hours. I fell asleep and then woke up randomly and you still weren’t back.”

“Minho took me to some beach.”

“Did you have sex with him?”

You looked up. “Yeah. Why?”

Jisung shrugged. “Just wondering.”

You could tell he wanted to say more but you didn’t push. If you did, you’d only be hurting your own feelings. He had told you that himself. Jisung had been very clear that he wasn’t ready to talk about the Minho thing with you so all you could do was be honest and answer the questions that he asked, even if it was awkward and uncomfortable.

You were so used to guilt by now that you almost didn’t notice the fresh wave that washed over you. You knew it was wrong to still sleep with Minho after everything— hell, you knew it was wrong before everything, but neither of those facts stopped you from doing it.

You realized Jisung was still looking at you so you shook it off and picked up a random sundress from your luggage.

“How’s this for tonight?”

“Looks good to me.”

An hour later, you and the rest of the Hans were seated around a table in a dimly lit restaurant. The sundress had been the right choice. The place was right on the water and open to the outdoor air so all of the other patrons were dressed pretty similarly.

Jisung ordered for you after you looked over the menu together like always. Your hands rested on the table, fingers entwined for his family to see. You had been doing this for so long now that it was almost second nature to you. You had fallen into the routine a long time ago but you didn’t even have to think about it anymore. You probably wouldn’t even be giving the action a second thought had it not been for Minho staring at your hands from across the table.

It looked like he was zoning out, like he wasn’t actually glaring at you holding hands with his brother but you couldn’t be sure. You kicked him gently in the shin to get his attention. He jolted and locked eyes with you immediately, erasing any trace of subtly.

“You okay there, son?” Dom asked, patting Minho on the back.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m fine. Just got a chill.”

Thankfully, everyone seemed to move past it and the conversation resumed. Dinner was otherwise uneventful. The boys recounted the golf game and Dom’s landslide win, while you just listened and nodded along when it felt right. It was a relief not to have to add anything to the discussion. You didn’t have the energy to.

Dom stayed true to his word from earlier and bought everyone a round from the bar at the restaurant. You weren’t a big beer drinker but you didn’t want to be rude so you suffered through the whole pint, ignoring Jisung’s worried glances from the side.

“You know I could have finished that for you,” he muttered.

“I don’t want to look like a pussy in front of your dad,” you hissed back. “He bought it for us. And I didn’t want to be left out.”

Your best friend scoffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You’ll do anything to prove a point, won’t you?”

“You know me.”

Minho pulled you aside after dinner, once you were back at the resort.

“Think you can ditch your ‘boyfriend’?” he whispered as you both fell back a couple of steps.

You stopped. “What, why?”

“I just want a moment alone with you.”

“A moment or several moments?” you challenged.

He smirked. “I’ll take whatever I can get.”

“I can’t keep blowing Jisung off,” you sighed, “and neither can you.’

“You know he doesn’t want anything to do with me right now.”

“That doesn’t mean you should stop trying!”

“Look, can we not do this right now? When they’re literally right there?”

“You’re the one who pulled me aside right in front of them.”

You watched his jaw clench in frustration but he didn’t say anything else because he knew you were right.

“Can you ditch him or not?”

You sighed again and looked back to Jisung. He was in what looked to be a heated debate with Felix. You didn’t need to hear it to know it was over something stupid.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Jisung barely bat an eye when you told him where you were going.

“Okay, be safe,” he said as he kicked off his shoes.

That’s it? That’s all he had to say to you? You wanted to ask him just that, but you were afraid of creating another rift between the two of you. Jisung had said he wasn’t ready to talk about it so you shouldn’t push, right? But was it wrong to keep leaving like this?

Going back and forth with yourself was only wasting time and Minho was still waiting for you downstairs. Fuck it.

You grabbed a spare room key from the dresser, shoved it in the pocket of your dress, and left without another word before you could change your mind.

Minho was right where you left him, leaning against the wall by the elevator hub. He grinned when he saw you.

“Thought you’d never escape.”

You rolled your eyes at him as you let him lead you through the lobby by the hand. You were still wary of people seeing you together but the lobby was seemingly empty.

“Jisung didn’t care. It was me who took forever.”

Minho paused, letting go of your hand as he gave you a concerned once over. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I don’t really want to talk about it. So, where are we going?”

He frowned, but only momentarily, quickly covering it up with a smile. “I- okay, um... remember how you said we don’t do ‘couple stuff’?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought maybe I could take you somewhere where we can do that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m taking you on a date, silly.”

“Really? Where?” When he didn’t answer, you groaned. “You and your stupid surprises.”

“It’s more fun this way and you know it,” he insisted, tugging you along by the hand.

“I like being prepared,” you argued.

He grinned. “So be prepared for a good time.”

The drive wasn’t far at all this time but you were confused when he pulled into a crowded lot. You were even more confused when he didn’t turn off the car or more to get out of it.

You turned to him in confusion. “Minho?”

“Y/n?” he parroted.

“Where are we?”

“We’re on our date.”

“Yes, but where?”

“Did you not see the sign when we turned in?” You shook your head. He grinned. “It’s a drive-in.”

“Really?”

“Why do you think no one’s getting out of their car?”

“I didn’t really notice, to be honest.”

“Too distracted by your hot date?”

You didn’t spare him a reaction. “How’d you find this place?”

“I did some research the other night,” he explained, “when you, you know, we talked about it. I figured this is about as close as we could get to a real date. At least right now.”

“That’s… really thoughtful.”

He shrugged. “Nah, it’s nothing, really.”

“Well I was going to kiss you, but if it’s nothing—”

“No, no. I want the kiss. Give me my kiss.”

You chuckled, relenting as you leaned in. He met you halfway over the center console and kissed you sweetly. It was short but eager, just enough to leave you wanting more.

You had to remind yourself not to get your hopes up. Sure, Minho was showing interest in you now, but what about when this was all over? Would he want to do long-distance? Did he want to date you at all? You had been telling yourself that it was just sex all this time but now you were on a date... but what did it mean? You could just ask but you were scared to ruin the moment, ruin whatever it was that was actually going on.

You’d been asking yourself the same questions for weeks now and the scary thing was, it seemed like Minho was serious about you. He had all but said it outright to you. And here he was taking you on a fucking date. It was you who kept pushing back. You told yourself it was because of Jisung, but if you were being honest with yourself that was only half of it. You were afraid of getting hurt. You had never been in a real relationship before for that very reason. Well, that and you liked being single. It seemed favorable considering the dating pool of your university.

“I want another one,” Minho murmured, leaning in again.

“Nope, that’s all you get for now,” you teased, even though you did very much want to kiss him again.

His lips parted in surprise. “Wha- why?”

“Because I only promised you one! I can’t just go giving my kisses away, can I?”

“Sure you can,” he argued.

“That would lessen their value. I can’t wager them to get what I want if they’re not worth anything.”

“Your kisses are very valuable to me,” Minho insisted.

“Because I’m sparing with them.”

Minho inched even closer to your face, eyes trained on your mouth. “So I can earn them,” you started to nod, “if I’m a good boy?”

You almost choked on nothing, swallowing a moan. Minho watched your reaction with a self-satisfied smile and then settled back in his seat, turning his attention to the giant projector screen at the front of the parking lot.

“We’ll see,” you muttered hoarsely.

He hummed, still looking forward. “I’ll be good then.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

#instead of you stray kids #instead of you skz #iou stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lino x reader #lee know smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee minho smut #lee minho x reader #lee know series #stray kids series

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