#bodyguard!minho

[hansomeskz]

Devil Like Me Chapter 1

Han Jisung is the devil of the music industry, but he’s tired of being alone.

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Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | Epilogue

NOTE: I am trying to decide which fic I want to post next!! I was going to post a fic I have inspired by Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine but I also have one ready to go inspired by The 30th by Billie Eilish!! let me know which you would prefer :’)

Jisung can hear the people around him speaking, discussing his most recent scandal, but the words aren’t quite reaching him. He feels like he’s underwater, hearing muffled and vision swimming.

“Isn’t that right, Han?” A voice cuts through the fog in his brain, forcing him to look up. He meets eyes with his manager across the table. “Right.”

“See? He’s perfectly content with the sacrifices he’s making. His group owes him their success, no?” She shuffles some of the papers in front of her, pulling out magazine clippings.

“Just look how often they’re in the news nowadays. This never would’ve happened if it wasn’t for Han’s behaviour.” His manager sounds proud, but a deep and acidic shame eats him from the inside out.

He’s not the person in the clippings, he thinks. Pictures of him in clubs attached to women he’d never met before sit in front of him. He feels sick.

“Well, as long as it keeps 3Racha in the news, then it can’t really hurt,” somebody on his team says. He bites back a laugh. It doesn’t hurt the band, but Jisung has had an ache in his chest from the first day. The meeting continues, but nobody speaks another word to him.

Afterwards, his manager walks him back to the dorms. “Now remember, Han. The company party is tonight. We’d love to see you cause a scene. I have people ready to record you at any second so we can leak the footage.”

“Okay.” His stomach is twisting in knots as his hand rests on the door handle. “Does it have to be like this?” He asks suddenly, turning to his manager.

“I didn’t realize you wanted to lose everything you’ve worked so hard for, Han. If your band’s ready for their careers to end, then no. But is that really what you want?” She’s speaking gently like she cares so much about him. As if she wants to keep him safe. He knows it’s stupid, but he believes her.

“You’re right. I’ll see you later, then.” He slips inside the dorm, sighing. Chan barely glances up at him as he walks towards his room.

“How was the meeting?” The older boy asks. Jisung shrugs, taking a quick detour to pour himself a glass of water. He feels like he’s suffocating.

“Wow, I feel so enlightened,” Chan says dryly, turning to face him. “Why don’t you talk to me anymore, Han-ah?”

“Hyung, it was just a meeting.”

“You always come back looking so miserable. I just wish I knew what was going on, you know? What if I went with you?” Chan stands, approaching Jisung cautiously. Jisung shakes his head, clutching the glass tight enough that he wonders if it’ll break. He wishes it would.

“They’re just meetings for me , hyung. You know that.” Jisung reaches out to squeeze Chan’s arm gently, offering a small smile in an effort to look reassuring. Chan doesn’t return it. Instead he turns, closing his laptop and picking up his gear. “Right,” he says. “You know, Han, I don’t even really know you anymore. It really hurts, losing you. I hope we get you back someday.” Chan looks at him, frowning. When Jisung doesn’t reply, he shakes his head and disappears into his room.

The tightness in Jisung’s chest doesn’t let up. It constricts his lungs until it feels like he can’t breathe, hot tears pooling in his eyes. He quickly shuts himself in his bedroom, knees giving out before he can make it to his bed.

As he gasps for breath he thinks that the worst part of all of this is that he has to do it alone. Over the years he pushed all of his friends and family away until he was completely and utterly alone. While he’s gotten good at dealing with it all by himself, he doesn’t think it’s fair he has to. It’s times like these, he thinks, he could really use somebody.

The music is too loud, taking any ability to think away from Jisung. But it’s not like he could think in this state either way, his vision blurred and veins buzzing.

Mobs of people pass Jisung, sneering at him. His heart aches but he does nothing to combat it, only shooting them a cocky smirk. He can play this game, if only for the sake of his friends. His manager is close to his side, pointing out different women planted nearby for Jisung to “use as he sees fit”. He feels nauseous.

As he’s scanning the room his eyes land on somebody he’s never seen before. The man is tall, fair-skinned. He’s not smiling, the solemn look intensifying his carved cheekbones and sharp nose. Jisung takes special note of his dark eyes, if only because they are burning holes through him.

He wants to look away, wants to pay attention to what his manager is whispering in his ear, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from the dark-haired man. The decision to look away is made for him as a large group passes in front of him. When the crowd has cleared, the mysterious stranger is gone.

Jisung is forced back into his role at the party, but he can’t shake the thoughts of the man staring right through him. Jisung feels naked; like this man has right through his charade. He takes another shot.

His manager guides him through the crowd, leaving his side when he’s only feet away from a blonde who’s been eyeing him for the better part of an hour. “Hey, you’re Han, right?” She’s smiling flirtatiously at him, chest stuck out a little.

“I’m whoever you want me to be.” He flashes her his most dazzling smile, stomach twisting when she all but swoons. She runs a hand down his arm, leaning closer. “You know, you’re even cuter in person.”

Jisung’s heart is lodged so high in his throat that he feels like he’s chewing on it. “Thanks,” he dips his head down a little, and she closes the gap to press their lips together. He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know that cameras are flashing nearby.

Once satisfied with the number of camera clicks, he gently pushes the girl away. She starts speaking and he assumes she’s suggesting they slip away from the party, but he doesn’t wait around long enough to hear.

When Jisung lifts his eyes from the ground, shame burning somewhere in his chest, he meets eyes with the same stranger from earlier. The man has his head tilted slightly, looking deep in thought.

Jisung feels his gaze boring through him again, it’s not mean or judgemental like he’s used to. Instead, it’s concerned. This man sees something in Jisung that most others don’t. He looks away, feeling heat crawling up his neck. When he looks back the man’s gone back to his conversation, back turned.

It’s so confusing, Jisung thinks. He’s never seen this man before, why is he so concerned with what Jisung is doing?

“Han,” his manager says, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looks at her, spotting the short ginger standing next to her. “I have somebody who wants to dance with you.”

He smiles at her, offering his hand. “Then we shouldn’t waste any time.” He pulls the girl to the centre of the dance floor. It’s nice to lose himself for a second. Even if all eyes are on him and even with the girl grinding back against him, he’s able to drift into the music.

His manager waves at him from the side of the dance floor a few minutes later, reminding him he’s supposed to be putting on a show. He sends back a subtle nod, his hands running down the girl’s sides. She smiles at him as he grabs fistfuls of her ass, slotting their lips together.

Their bodies move in time with the music, camera clicks acting as some fucked up metronome. Jisung doesn’t want to be here. He pulls away as the girl tries to tangle her fingers into his hair, a sour look on his face.

“You’re fucking up my hair,” he mutters before disappearing into the crowd, happy to have an excuse to escape. He can see his manager approaching him quickly, so he makes a beeline for the bathroom. Inside he just takes a second, leaning against the counter. As he lifts his head, facing his reflection in the mirror, he wonders how this is what his life has become.

He never asked for this. Or maybe he did. It started innocently enough, doing nothing but speaking candidly on lives as a trainee. His carefree nature captured the attention of a fairly sizable audience, and the label saw that too. As his following grew, so did the pressure from the label executives. Now he’s here, he thinks, hiding in the bathroom, being made out to be some out-of-control idol.

He catches sight of somebody emerging from one of the stalls, the tall brunet from before. “Oh, Han. I didn’t realize you were in here,” he says, offering him a warm smile. Jisung ignores it, pretending to be incredibly interested in his chipping nail polish.

“Are you enjoying the party?” Jisung isn’t sure why this man is still speaking to him. He glances at him before turning on the taps, washing his hands to give himself a reason to be here. The other man mirrors his actions.

“I’m having a blast,” Jisung mumbles.

“That’s good. Well, if you want to chat or anything, I’ll be at the bar.” The man smiles brightly at him. Jisung can’t seem to return it, anger bubbling in his chest. He just scoffs at the offer, pushing past the brunet to escape.

His manager is waiting outside the door for him, arms crossed. She guides him back through the crowds, discussing the buzz his escapades from this evening are already getting him, saying something about retweets or quote tweets or whatever the fuck she thinks makes his misery worth it for the company. He doesn’t listen.

Instead, his mind turns back to this man who’s been haunting him all night. He doesn’t understand the gentle concern that crosses the stranger’s face each time they lock eyes. He doesn’t know if he’s deserving of the kindness offered over the bathroom sinks.

His memory of the stranger’s kindness is warm in contrast to the glares he receives from the party-goers around him, causing anxiety to start swirling somewhere inside him. His manager whispers a reminder of the scene they’d promised the executives earlier today.

Jisung is frustrated, confused, tired, and drunk. This meltdown, he thinks, is the last thing he needs to do before he’s allowed to leave. He lets the anger and anxiety crackle inside his chest, searching the room for the perfect target.

His eyes land on the kind stranger from before, leaning against the bar, sipping on a drink. Jisung doesn’t understand him, he doesn’t know why he seems so overly concerned.

Jisung crosses the room to him quickly, slamming a hand down on the bar. “So what’s your fucking problem?” He asks, staring up at him. The man’s eyes go wide briefly before his expression softens. “Are you okay?”

“What- seriously, what is your fucking issue ? You’ve been staring me down all night. Can you not mind your fucking business?” Jisung can hear his voice get louder, but the man in front of him seems completely unphased.

“You just seemed so overwhelmed all night, I just thought…” The dark-haired stranger trails off, cocking his head to the side. “Thought what, that you fucking know a thing about me?” Jisung scoffs, eyes drifting over the crowd of people that have gathered to watch. He couldn’t count all the phones filming them even if he wanted to. He turns his fiery gaze back to his target, shoving him.

“Mind your fucking business and stop being such a fucking freak.” Jisung turns to the crowd, disgust evident on his face. He’s not quite sure if he’s disgusted at the crowd or at himself. The stranger still has an expression of warm concern on his face despite everything.

When his manager gives him a slight nod, he turns quickly, making his leave.

The ride home is long and Jisung is so tired. He wonders how much of his meltdown is for show and how much stems from something real. He resents that not a single person knows him anymore.

He stares out his window, blinking back tears. He really hates the person he’s become, but it’s all he knows. Against his better judgment, he scrolls through the comments on the Instagram post from earlier tonight. His chest aches more with every word.

They call for the removal of Jisung from 3Racha, most comments are riddled with insults and death threats. He wonders if there’s any validity in the claims that his friends would be better off without him, and then he wonders if he can even call them his friends anymore.

When he stumbles through the door of the dorm, Changbin and Chan are sitting together, watching a movie. Changbin eyes Jisung warily, while Chan regards him with concern. “Another night out?” Changbin asks, trying to hide his disgust.

Jisung’s stomach churns. He wants to stop, talk with the people he’s grown up with, find enough words to tell them how sorry he is and how much he loves them, but the contents of his stomach are caught in his throat.

He’s lucky enough to make it to the bathroom in time, crashing to his knees as he lets go of everything he’s consumed tonight. Chan comes after a few minutes, a glass of water in hand.

“You should really take it easy, Hannie…” He places a warm hand on Jisung’s back, rubbing gentle circles into it. The first few tears to trickle down his cheeks are nothing but a result of his stomach flipping upside down, but then he finds he can’t stop them.

Chan frowns, pulling him closer. He doesn’t leave Jisung’s side, reminding him to take sips of water and stroking his hair. Each wave of nausea hits Jisung harder, complicated by his sniffs and hiccups.

“Let’s get you to bed, hm?” Chan stands, offering Jisung his hands. He takes them, letting the older tug him to his feet. They quietly pad down the hall and into Jisung’s room.

It’s been a long time since Chan’s even seen Jisung’s room. Stacks of letters written by 3Racha fans cover most surfaces, a small section cleared out on his desk where Jisung writes most of his lyrics. Chan’s eyes drift over the state of the room before he returns to the task at hand.

Jisung sits on the edge of his bed as Chan helps him wipe off his makeup and softly whispers to the younger boy.

“I’m sorry Hannie. It’s going to be okay, you know? We’re doing this together… You know we’re just worried about you.” Chan brushes some stray strands of hair off of Jisung’s forehead. Jisung shakes his head, a weak sob bubbling past his lips.

“You’ll never understand what I’m going through,” Jisung cries, burying his face in his hands. He doesn’t see the way the warmth disappears from Chan’s face.

“Just get some sleep, Han-ah.” Chan carefully manoeuvers the younger boy so he’s lying down, tucking him in. “You’ve had a long night.”

Jisung is out cold before Chan flicks off the lights.

Jisung sits beside his manager, staring down at the table to avoid making eye contact with the label executives sitting across from them. He can hear that they’re all speaking, even catching his name a few times, but he can’t convince himself to focus for longer than a few seconds.

“…Security…”

“…safety risks…”

“…threats of violence…”

“…stalkers…”

He knows whatever they’re discussing is important based on their tones and tries to tune in. It’s useless, though. His mind wanders to Chan and Changbin and the way they look at him nowadays. It wanders to the stranger at the party who seems to see through Jisung’s act.

He’s pulled from his thoughts when his manager nudges him gently. “Do you understand?” She asks. Jisung blinks at her before rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I’m sorry, I missed it. What was the question?”

His manager sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is really important, Han. With the increase in violent threats, we’ve hired security for you. You’re not to go anywhere without your new bodyguard, do you understand?”

Jisung’s heart sinks. He tries to keep away from the feedback he receives so he hadn’t realized how bad it’s gotten. He nods solemnly, looking around the room. He spots him, then. The stranger from the party.

Today he’s dressed in all black, still watching Jisung with the same careful, soft gaze.

“He’ll be staying a few doors down from you in the dorms so that he can be on scene if anything happens,” the executive across from him explains. Jisung swallows thickly, nodding.

They don’t include Jisung in the rest of the discussion, talking about action plans that he can’t even begin to fathom. His eyes wander around the room instead, trying to find something to distract himself.

The man from the party doesn’t look away from Jisung, seemingly deep in thought. Jisung meets his eyes and quirks an eyebrow. The bodyguard doesn’t back down, instead intensifying his gaze.

After only a few seconds it’s completely unbearable. Jisung looks at anyone but him for the rest of the meeting.

His manager helps him approach the man once everything is wrapped up. “Han, this is Minho. He’ll be your lifeline while we get everything sorted out.” She gestures to the brunet, trying to offer a reassuring smile. Minho sticks out his hand, smiling warmly at Jisung. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Han.”

Jisung hesitates but shakes his hand. “Thank you for this. I feel safer already,” he says through a forced smile. Minho gives his hand the gentlest squeeze before pulling away. “I’m happy to help.”

Jisung’s manager claps him on the back, smiling at him. “Get home safe, kid. We’ll see you tomorrow night?” He had completely forgotten about the performance, anxiety swirling in his stomach. “Oh, yeah.”

Minho guides Jisung out of the room, then. They silently navigate through the twisting hallways and the blond is grateful that Minho isn’t pushing conversation. The entire ride home is quiet too, Jisung listening to the older boy humming along to whatever is playing on the radio.

When he’s worried he’ll spiral, the doubt and anxiety creeping into the edges of his mind, he turns to Minho. The brunet is watching him, offering a small smile when their eyes meet.

“So what’s your deal? Why are you always staring at me?” Jisung wrings his hands, frowning. Minho’s eyes go wide briefly before his kind smile returns.

“You always look kind of lost. I just like to keep an eye on you, you know… just in case.”

“Just in case what?” Jisung feels so naked. The fact that the older man can see right through him is so scary to him. Minho just shrugs lightly, looking out the window.

“In case you need somebody.”

“You don’t even know me. Come on, you’ve seen all the new stories about me.”

“I try not to put a lot of worth into stories written by people who have never met you,” Minho says quietly, curling his arms across his chest.

Jisung can feel the anxiety eating away at him, crumpling him into nothing. If Minho gets to know him, then what? He will let him down time after time, and the younger boy just can’t let that happen.

The words bubble out before he can stop them, slipping past his lips dripping in venom. “You don’t know anything about me. You’ve been talking like you know what the fuck I’m thinking. You don’t, and you won’t. Just do your fucking  job and leave me alone.”

He looks away before he can catch the look of shock on Minho’s face. He misses the way the shock morphs into concern. They don’t speak again the rest of the way home.

Instead, they silently trudge through the halls of the dorms, the older boy keeping in step with Jisung. When they stop just outside the 3Racha dorm, Minho grabs his arm gently. “Jisung… If you need anything, I’m right down the hall,” he digs through the pocket inside his jacket before handing over a small business card. “You can call or text the number on here if you’re going out. Just give me a heads up, okay?”

Jisung scoffs but snatches the card out of his hand, stepping into the apartment and slamming the door behind him. Changbin looks up from his good, raising his eyebrows. The blond just sends him a nasty look and shuts himself in his room.

He finds himself curled under his sheets, feeling like he might be drowning. Minho is so confusing to him. It's scary to think that somebody cares so much about him without knowing a single thing about him.  He keeps himself isolated on purpose.  Thoughts of all of the hurt he had to dish out to keep people from knowing the truth flood his mind. He thinks about the look on his mom’s face the day he cut ties with his family.

He remembers when he first started out, all of his friends were so supportive of him and his mom used to brag about him any chance she got. Once the articles started to surface, she got more and more concerned.  The only way to protect her, he thinks, was that he kept her as far away from him as he could. Once his family was out of the picture, he started to see the concern surface from the others around him. Losing Chan and Changbin hurt the most, he thinks. The room around him is growing so hot.

Jisung pushes him out of bed, horrified to see it’s hours later and the sun has disappeared below the horizon. The air in his room feels stale, suffocating him alongside his thoughts. He has to get out of here. The thought crosses his mind to call Minho, but he decides against it. He’s received threats for years, he thinks. How could it be that bad?

He nearly makes it down to the corner store. Music is blaring through his earbuds, drowning out the world around him. He taps one gently to pause the music when somebody grabs his arm.

He spins on his heels, finding himself face-to-face with a crowd of young girls. They couldn’t be older than 16 or 17, but the crazed look in their eyes shoots fear through every inch of his body. They’re screaming. The words aren’t quite reaching Jisung but he knows it can’t be anything good. He’s shaking, now, taking steps backwards. The angry teens press forward past every inch Jisung tries to put between them.

The girls are harshly grabbing at him now, all he can really do is put his hands up to shield his face and try to put more distance between them. It’s useless, though. They press on, shoving him through their yelling, various threats and insults being hurled at him so loudly that he can't even comprehend them. Cameras flash nearby instead of any of the vultures coming to help. Jisung curses the parasites that work for the tabloids as his heart pounds against his chest. Hands grab roughly at every inch of him, the yelling getting louder and more aggressive.

It’s not until the girls are scrambling backwards that Jisung recognizes an even louder voice from behind him.

“What’s going on here?” The voice asks the girls, who turn to put as much distance between themselves and Jisung’s saviour as they can, sprinting into the night. When he turns to thank the stranger, he realizes it wasn’t a stranger at all.

Minho stands there, holding a few bags full of what Jisung can only assume to be food from the convenience store. The older boy drops the bags in favour of pulling the blond into a tight hug. “Ji, are you okay?” Jisung struggles to catch his breath, pressing his face into Minho’s neck. They don’t pull apart until his chest loosens, adrenaline wearing off.

“Thank you,” he chokes out, blinking quickly. His eyes are wide and brimming with tears, features only softening when Minho caresses his cheek gently. “That looked really scary, Jisung. Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve walked you to the store.”

“I didn’t think it would be like this…” Jisung trails off, looking at his feet. His throat tightens, making it harder for him to go on. Minho places a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Do you still want to go to the convenience store? I can always share my snacks if you’re not up for it.” The brunet sounds so warm and genuine. Jisung shakes his head softly.

“I just want to go home.”

“Come on, then.” Minho’s hand stays settled in the small of Jisung’s back, not moving the entire walk back home. Jisung thanks him quietly at his door before slipping inside, not turning back to spare him a look. He saves Minho's number into his contacts the second he slips back into bed, mind spinning from what's just happened.

Jisung thinks about the girls and how angry they were. He understands that he's a bad person in their eyes but it's hard for him to comprehend. People hate him so much that they would assault him? The blond spends hours staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it. Does he really deserve all of this?

He does, though. He thinks about everything he's done to not only the strangers forced onto him by his label, but to his friends and his family. He thinks about the horrible things he's called people he loves to try to scare them off. He thinks about how it worked.

Jisung is alone, truly. When his new persona hit the tabloids, many of his older friends jumped ship themselves. Any stragglers left were ripped to shreds by Han. He tries to comfort himself by remembering it's just an alter ego created by his label, but it does nothing to fill the void left in his heart. He misses his friends and wants to go home. Jisung doesn't want to live like this anymore. There must be something he can do, he thinks. Something to show the world who he really is.

Everything he's done so far has made him a person who deserves this reality. It's wishful thinking to hope that he'll find a way to show everyone the difference between Jisung and Han. Despite the knowledge that nobody will ever know the difference between the two, it's all he dreams about that night.

#han #han jisung #minho #lee minho #lee know #minsung #angst #idol!han #bodyguard!minho #sunshine and sunshine protector #mlm #not multi level marketing tho #fanfic #stray kids #skz #stray kids fic

[hanjisick]

Orders.

genre. mafia au. bodyguard!lee know x fem!reader

desc. your father is an elite, high ranking official in a mafia family. after your first kidnapping, a bodyguard was hired to ensure your safety.

warnings. nsfw. fingering & sex. torture. kidnapping. murder. violence.

wc. 10k

✉️ : this is my first writing after a 9 month hiatus. i apologize for the unannounced break and i will be answering and writing again shortly. enjoy! :)

You sit in a wooden chair, wheezing and thrashing from days of sleep deprivation and torment. Your body aches, wrists bruised and bloody from the ropes, and you almost feel like giving in and spilling Daddy’s secrets— allowing them to kill you and the family.

But you knew better than that. You knew that you'd be saved.

The gunshots and cries for help weren't unexpected from above the dark bunker.

With an ear-piercing creak, the door swings open and the shadow of a man emerges through the doorstep, shoes squeaking with fresh blood underneath.

He doesn’t let out a single word as he kneels to grab your face and examine it. Your attention follows the ring on his finger. An insignia that he is part of the family. You can depend on him.

But still, you wince, sharply inhaling as his fingers aggravate your wounds.

“Don’t get their blood in my wounds, I don’t know what kind of freaks they are,” You grumble, voice husky from days of screaming.

You let him turn your head, retaining eye contact with the floor as you grit your teeth.

“Relax,” he mumbles, “I don’t bite.”

He leans closer to examine your wounds. “You took a lot of hits. How many people are here?”

He draws back as you reply, “Can’t tell you exactly.”

“About four of them grabbed me while I was leaving the house— stupid on their part, no wonder you were here so shortly,” You trail off before catching yourself back on topic.

“But I’ve only seen three different men since I’ve been here. Only to beat me and interrogate me. Don’t worry, I didn’t say anything to put Daddy at risk.”

“I heard two other unrecognizable voices. That would make nine people in the building that I know of. Of course, there could always be more. How many did you shoot?”

“Six,” he responds before looking down at your scrapes and wounds again.

You feel him caress your cheek once more, his cold skin sending shivers down your spine.

“You’re in bad shape.”

“If there’s more here, we need to get out as soon as possible. We can worry about my wounds as soon as these people aren’t on our ass.”

You struggle in your bounds, the ropes burning your already bloody wrists, “Could you untie me, first?”

“Don’t move.”

You obey his command, halting as he unties the ropes, uncovering the painful burn marks and blisters.

“That fucking hurt,” you rotate your wrists, “I could’ve gotten out without your help eventually, though.” Your voice is rough, breath coming out in harsh, sharp drags.

“Sure, you would’ve.”

You stumble to your feet as he pulls you into him for safety. He reeks of gunpowder and high-dollar cologne— presumably something that Daddy has made sure that he has the money for.

“Stay close to me, when we get to the front, you go out first and then I’ll leave right after.”

You follow the unfamiliar man out of the maze, almost slipping on the floor blanketed in blood.

You adjust to the bright sunlight— and it feels gentle against your damaged skin. It seems like time has stood still while you were captured. “Did Daddy order you a car?”

“Yes,” he answers, “Some men are waiting out front to take us to the closest hospital— which isn’t too far.”

“I’m being hospitalized?” You follow him into the backseat, finally slacking for a moment ontop of the fresh leather.

“It’s not my choice to have you taken to the hospital, it’s the orders.”

“Do I have a statement to tell the nurse?” You look at him in concern.

“Am I supposed to say, ‘Oh, I was kidnapped by Daddy’s enemies! By the way, he’s in the mafia! Who wants to arrest Daddy?’”

“Tell them you fell down the stairs.” His flat tone contrasts your own, remaining unfazed.

“How would that cover up my wrists' burn marks?” You hold up the bloody and bruised dents, “Nobody gets these from falling down the stairs. There's way too much blood— and some of it isn’t even mine.”

He raises an eyebrow, looking over to the burn marks on your wrist and then back to you.

“Then tell them you accidentally burnt yourself while cooking.”

“Are you even listening to me? Are you stupid?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, not seeming to care about the situation.

“It’s not hard to pay them to be silent.”

“How about I tell them that I was heavily bullied at school and a couple of classmates did this to me? I think that could work.”

You two arrive at the front entrance of the emergency room, he follows behind you, strolling through the automatic door.

“I’m fine, really, I was just beaten by classmates,” You lie through your teeth to the front desk, “My boyfriend took me here to get it checked out.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You comply with the nurses as they check your weight and interview you.

“I don’t have any stab wounds, at least I don’t think so— I don’t remember what they did to me. I was held captive for a few,” Your voice trails off as you wince at a sudden pang.

You glance down at your bleeding side and are unexpectedly whacked with all of the distress that you had been repressing at once.

Your vision starts to fade, face pale as a ghost.

The man rushes over as they carry you to a bed, and he kneels beside you to review your condition. Your body is pale and cold, breathing jagged and rapid.

You hear the whispers of the staff panicking. One nurse checks your pulse, and another elevates your legs.

“I need my blood sugar up,” the first words that come out of your mouth sound weak and painful.

You look over at the man beside you.

You need to lie. But you don’t even know his name.

“Boyfriend,” you determine, “please get me a sugary drink from the vending machine.”

A subtle smirk forms upon his lips, but it vanishes as soon as it appears.

“Fine,” he rises to his feet.

You hiss as the nurses sterilize your wounds, shrieking and thrashing on the mattress at the sting. You try to stay still, but the pain is intolerable.

Footsteps echo and you find the man returning with a chocolate bar, which he holds out to you. He brings it close to your lips and holds the chocolate against your mouth for you to take a bite, “Slowly.”

“I told you to get me a drink,” You disregard his command, biting the chocolate quickly, almost aggressively.

His lips turn up, amused by your action.

The nurses finish stitching up your deep gashes and bandaging your wounds, recommending that you stay the night.

“Pay for the bill with Daddy’s cash and let’s get out of here,” you state coldly, “I need to shower and get all of this blood out of my hair. I don’t want to stay here.”

“As long as you can walk by yourself, we can leave right away.” He replies. The man takes out a wad of bills quickly counts the money and pays for the bill.

You stay speechless until entering the car.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your bodyguard. Your father hired me to look out for you after the kidnapping.”

You nod in acknowledgment. “Will you be staying at the estate with me? Or is it a ‘only when I leave the house’ kind of deal?”

“My primary duty is to protect you from anyone or anything that could harm you, whether that be outside or inside the house. I could go wherever you wish me to follow you, and I will be there.”

“You won’t sleep in bed with me though, right?”

He stays silent for a moment.

“You are correct, I am here to protect, nothing more. I will not sleep next to you. I am merely your bodyguard and take your orders.”

“Good boy,” you grin, “I bet Daddy will pay you very nicely. Why else would you take this job? How much does he give you? Either way, I’m sure you have enough to buy a mansion.”

The bodyguard holds back an eye roll. “I will have more than enough money. Not only that but he also provides me with a home.” He adds with a smirk.

“Good.” You reply.

You fall silent, allowing him to drive, taking in the past few days.

You were never worried about surviving, You understood that Daddy would handle it. But you didn’t expect to be as hurt as you were.

He could’ve saved you sooner.

“When we get home, order the chef to make me something sweet, I deserve a treat,” you state, “I’m going to shower and you are not allowed to enter my bathroom under any circumstance. Even if I’m dying.”

“You would die before letting me enter your bathroom? I get it.” He retorts.

Once you both arrive at the estate, you stumble out of the car. You don’t linger for him.

You’re welcomed by a handful of workers as you enter the home, but ignore them as you make a beeline up the stairs and towards the bedroom.

The door locks behind you and the room is silent. You feel the weariness creep on as your wounds sting. You lean against the door, sliding down.

After a moment of peace, you head towards the shower to comb the dried blood out of your hair.

You scrub your face carefully, avoiding the stitches above your eyebrows.

You wash your body entirely, removing the blood stains with soap, water, and a wash rag. Then you comb out the dried blood.

Once you finish, you dry yourself off and dress in a plain, silk nightdress.

Leaving your bedroom, you turn to look for your guard. He is at the doorway of your room when you walk out. His eyes roam around your body for a brief moment, examining the nightgown.

“Do you require assistance?”

“Did you place an order for something sweet, like I asked?” You peer at his suit, moving in to adjust his tie.

He follows your hand as it moves, eyeing you for a few moments before he utters, “I did, the chef will be bringing it to your room once it’s prepared.”

“Good boy.”

You look up at his face once you are pleased with the positioning. You grimace at his sharp, cold face. The blood was dried, brown, and unpleasing. The man’s hand relaxes on the gun holstered on his hip.

“I order you to come into my bedroom.”

His eyebrows crease. He understands his role as your bodyguard— nonetheless, he doesn’t get a kick out of being ordered around in this tone.

He takes a deep breath. “Your wish is my command.”

The room is massive, a silk-covered canopy bed sits in the center of it. He pays no mind to looking around, concentrating on the job at hand.

“Sit down on my bed,” you demand, steering towards the bathroom and pushing open the double doors.

He obeys your orders without question, crossing his legs, and keeping his hand resting beside his gun.

The bodyguard keeps a close, attentive eye on the doors, supervising the way that you soak a washrag with warm water, squeezing out the excess.

You sit beside him, grabbing his chin and leaning into his face. He tenses.

“Relax, I don’t bite,” you smirk, reiterating his first words from the moment he met you back to him, massaging the dried blood off of his face, “No guard of mine will have a messy appearance.”

You can tell that he feels uneasy, but he can’t reject you. If you wish for him to relax, he will make an effort to relax.

You can’t help but notice his complexion when he isn’t scowling. The apathy melts away as you wipe the dried blood, giving you a new perspective on his appearance.

“You’re handsome,” you state bluntly, “Especially without blood covering your face.”

You toss the rag into the laundry basket carelessly, waiting for a maid to take care of it.

“Thank you.”

“What is your name? You never told me.”

His eyebrows arch slightly at the question.“It’s Minho.”

“I am Y/N,” You reply, holding out your hand to shake his own. His grip is firm and warm.

He keeps a stoic face as he glances at your face and back at your hand, as if he is searching for an ulterior motive behind this handshake.

The food.

The bell rings and the sound of it shatters the stillness of the room. Minho’s head jolts towards the door, hand back on his gun.

He rises instantly, opening it to reveal the maid with a tray of sweet snacks.

He takes it from her. “I will bring it in.”

“What a good boy, Minho,” you praise, clapping your hands together as he sets the tray on your lap.

“I don’t take you for a man who enjoys sweet food much. Do you like sweets?”

“Sometimes.”

You unwrap a piece of high-dollar chocolate, “I command you to open your mouth.”

Minho can’t deny you, it would be disobeying your orders.

He opens his mouth as the chocolate is positioned between his lips.

You relish in the chocolates with Minho and once finished, you set the tray on the floor for a maid to pick up at sunrise.

“I don’t think I mind you being around all that much, Daddy makes good decisions.” You lay down on the mattress.

“Your father does make good decisions.”

His gaze wavered on your face until you drifted off to sleep. Only then did they slowly trail down to your body.

The way your body was built captivated him. Minho was glued to your sleeping form.

He stayed in the room, taking a seat on a chair in the corner to watch you.

He didn’t know how long it had been since you had dozed off, but by the way that the room was now pitch black and noiseless aside from your figure rising and falling, he would imagine that it had been a couple of hours.

“How long are you going to sit there?” Your sleep-filled voice questions him, causing him to snap out of his daze, hand reaching for his gun out of instinct.

“Do you sleep? Are you allowed to sleep?”

“I will only remain in the room as long as you order me to. I do sleep,” He replies, “Now is there anything else you need my assistance with? Or can I return to my duties?”

“So you’re only staying in the room because I ordered you two hours ago?” There’s a tinge of dismay in your voice, but it was masked by sleep, “You can leave if you want, I don’t mind.”

Minho felt a sudden pit in his stomach. You sounded disappointed by his statement.

Your words are perplexing him, and he can’t conclude what you want from him. To stay or to go?

“Should I stay for a bit longer?”

You were already asleep again once he had responded.

You and Minho both wake to a maid opening the blinds and ringing a bell. You groan, stretching your body.

“Miss, let’s get you dressed for today.”

She pulls your nightgown up above your head as Minho’s eyes wander toward your laced underwear.

“What’s on my schedule for today?”

He quickly forces his gaze to look away and stares back at the maid.

“We want you to heal from your injuries, miss,” she answers, “we will start with a nutritious breakfast to encourage recovery, and attend to your injuries, and then you will speak with Daddy about your incident.”

The maid buttons your fitted dress, glancing in Minho’s direction, “Your bodyguard will need to be there for your conversation with Daddy.”

“He will?”

“He needs to tell Daddy what he witnessed from the facility.”

You nod, following her lead down the stairs and towards the breakfast table.

Minho follows suit, remaining at your side the entire time and he watches you eat, staying observant and cautious.

“Are you hungry?”

This question catches Minho off guard.

“No.” He adds in a dull tone— but in actuality, he is starving. He was entrusted to watch over you. He shouldn’t eat on the clock.

“Maid, go order,” You look Minho up and down, “A side of crepes. Blueberry crepes. And two cups of coffee.”

The maid hurries to the kitchen to place the order, and it is brought out a couple of minutes later.

He stares at the crepes being placed on the table, and his belly grumbles. “Thank you.”

The maid carries the mugs of coffee to the table. But it doesn’t take Minho long to catch sight of her cunning smile and the perplexing liquid that the maid slipped into the mugs of coffee.

He stares quietly, calculating his next action.

“Don’t drink it.”

“Why not?”

Minho’s sight narrows as you bring the cup of coffee to your lips.

This time, his tone is warning and direct. “It’s better that you don’t.”

You halt your sip at his harsh command.

The maid pulls out a handgun swiftly after realizing that she has been caught, aiming it at you.

A switch swiftly flips inside of him.

He lunges forward, grabbing the woman’s wrist and twisting the gun to the right, snapping a couple of fingers in the process.

It’s a rapid movement, and he had little time to think before shooting her in the head, watching the life leave her body. His face is apathetic and almost casual.

The maid’s blood spilled onto the floor as the others ran to clean it up.

“He passed the test, we can keep him. A promising guard so far,” Daddy compliments from behind you, “Urgently acting to protect. He knew that she was mindless and weak. He comprehends crises well.”

The older man slips a wad of cash into the breast pocket of Minho’s suit. “Good on protecting her. That was a setup with a stupid maid who was just aching to betray us. You will have the same fate if you are wavered by another team.”

“I think he’s a good boy. He won’t betray me.”

“Y/N, meet me at my office. Guard, follow her.” He swiftly turns away to lead the two of you as you eye Minho.

“You can relax now. No more tests.”

He nods in understanding, heeding silently towards the office.

“Tell me about what you saw at the facility.”

You nod. “Four men had taken me from our garden entrance and used Chloroform to knock me unconscious. I woke up in their van, where my hands and legs were tied. I heard them talking about what they planned to get out of me. They had intentions of murdering me if they got to a week of no answers.”

Minho listens to your explanation with hawk-like eyes, paying close attention to all the details and descriptions.

You clear your throat, running your fingers across your bruised wrist, “I was tied to a chair in their questioning room, and they used forms of torture for me to open up.”

“I was deprived of sleep and beaten if they caught me closing my eyes— trying to get my lack of sleep to cause me to open up about your activities.”

Daddy nodded solemnly, leaning into his chair.

“Waterboarding was their favorite method, but they enjoyed beating me. I assume that was mainly for fun.”

You continued, “Minho appeared and killed a couple of them and saved me, but most are still alive.”

“Still alive? You didn’t find and kill them, bodyguard, why?” Daddy’s intense eyes moved toward Minho, who appeared unbothered.

The fact that he missed a few guys is enough to drive him crazy.

“I had to get her to safety as soon as possible.”

Daddy merely nods. “I will send my men after them. Y/N, did you get any names?”

“They wouldn’t tell me anything about themselves, but I saw a couple of signs of their rival gang.”

“Guard,” he veered towards Minho, “Describe the faces that you saw. I need as much information as possible.”

“They look to be between the ages of 20 to 30, their faces covered in scars. One man had dark skin, and his facial scars were faded. His most notable feature was a slit across his brow. He wore a dark suit. I left him alive but with a bullet in his arm. The other man had a lighter skin tone and his scars were similar to knife wounds. He had gotten away.”

The boss nods.

“Good. I can work with that. Never let my little girl get into trouble like that again, alright?”

The second the words ‘my little girl’ leave his mouth, Minho can’t help but gaze at you. He observes your reactions and motions.

His heart beats by hearing his boss call you that, and his attention is now focused on every single twitch that you make.

“The nurses will be waiting in her bedroom shortly. Be good and do as they say.” He adds, snapping Minho back to him.

“Guard, do not let her go against any of the nurses' rules. She can be convincing. Do not give into it.”

“Yes Sir.”

You roll your eyes, turning away to leave the room.

“Stay safe.” That is the last utterance of the boss before you drag Minho out of the room and towards the bedroom.

“Sit on the bed,” a nurse commands you, and you quickly obey.

She dabs at your abdomen stitches with antiseptic soap and your eyebrows furrow.

“You can’t move around much, got it? No exercising for three weeks until we get these stitches out.”

You agree as she moves on to your wrists, rubbing cream into them, “You’re going to visit us twice a day for six days until the healing is almost complete.”

She yanks a bandage off of your face, causing you to groan in pain. She rubs another ointment on it before substituting it with fresh dressing.

Minho supervises each step that the nurse takes, noticing how she takes care of your body as if it’s her most precious gift.

She turns to Minho, “I need you to make sure that she’s well rested, drinking enough water, and not doing many straining activities. Take her back here once again in the evening, and then we will see her again this time tomorrow morning, got it?”

“Yes, I will take care of her.”

“What about him, nurse?” You eye the small cuts across his face and hands.

She smiles and leans over to you. “He is well trained. Trust me, he’ll survive a few scratches.”

Your eyes narrow. “I order you to treat his wounds to the best of your abilities.”

She sighs. “Yes ma’am.”

She moves towards Minho and checks his wounds, patching the ones that were newly caused. She brushes his face softly with an ointment.

“I don’t like it when my guards don’t keep up a good appearance,” you try to explain away your worry for him, “and being injured will only slow you down when protecting me.”

The man stares straight ahead, listening carefully. “I’m fine. I’ll recover just fine. I don’t need much care as you do.”

“Let her rest now,” the nurse tells Minho, “order the maids to bring her a glass of water and have her sip on it until lunchtime.”

Once she leaves, Minho turns towards you, “I’ll make sure the maids bring you water. You need to stay hydrated”

Once water is on your table, your gaze returns to Minho

“Now, I order you to sit down on my bed with me.”

He examines you with a neutral expression and waits for you to say what you mean, not wishing to assume or take anything wrongly.

“Sit down with me,” you demand again, patting the spot beside you, waiting for him to follow suit.

As soon as you ask him to, Minho does not waver. He sits down beside you, body brushing your own.

You turn to meet his cold expression with intensity. “Do you like your job so far?

Minho is taken off guard by your switch of topic. He stays where he is sitting, but turns his body as well and faces you.

“I enjoy my duties.”

“Good. Because I’m fond of you. You’re handsome, and you are good at your job.”

He stares at you with slight surprise. “Thank you.”

Your hands grab for his, playing with the ring on his finger.

Then, you reach your hands higher, tugging his sleeve up to reveal a cluster of scars littered across his forearm.

“How long have you been in the business?”

“Since I was fourteen. I was trained from a very young age.”

“Have you always been in Daddy’s family?”

“I was loyal to your Daddy from the moment I knew what this life was like. I haven’t had a moment of doubt.”

“Good. That means you won’t leave us, right?”

“I will serve your family until my last breath. You have nothing to fear about that.”

“What a good boy,” you reach to ruffle his hair, landing a swift kiss on his sliced cheek. “That’s exactly what I like to hear.”

Minho stiffens.

“I order you to take off your jacket. I want to see your body. To see if you’re strong enough to be a good guard.”

Your words are sharp as a knife and they cut deep through his defense system. His jaw clamps and his breathing accelerates.

Minho swallows his breath, nodding his head. His movements are rigid, starting to cautiously peel off his jacket. It takes him a moment to unbutton it, but once his jacket is off, he stays there, waiting.

You slide his jacket to the floor, touching the muscles of his bicep through his button-down. “You’re fit. That’s good.”

Minho yearns for you to keep feeling him. To keep praising him. He swallows. Your words sound like a honey trap to him, and it’s working as intended.

“I order you to take off your tie.”

“Yes.”

That is all that he says, slowly slipping his tie from underneath his collar and tossing it aside.

Unexpectedly, you’re climbing on top of his body. “Take off your button-down.”

He unbuttons his shirt as your eyes sear into his chest. He is now only wearing a black undershirt.

“So many clothes,” you sigh out, groping his bare arms. You run your hands across his biceps, listening to him shudder underneath the touch.

“Take off your undershirt now. I want to see your chest.”

You can feel the heat radiating off him as he shivers. His body is now sensitive, and your hands are making it worse for him.

Your orders are evident, and he hastily lifts off his undershirt, waiting for what is next.

You can see his whole chest with all of its blemishes, with every muscle covered in sweat, exposed for you.

Your hands travel down his chest and abdomen, feeling each ragged scar with your bruised fingers. The delicate contact causes his breath to catch and a soft groan leaves him, fighting to not show that he relishes in your touch.

“Let me kiss you.”

He stares at you for a moment before his eyebrows slightly shift— his way of showing you that he approves of that request.

Minho leans in slightly and closes his eyes, gently placing a timid kiss on your lips.

You smirk against him, pushing him to lie against the bed frame and deepening the kiss. Your hands reach for his dark hair, clasping a handful in your grip.

He kisses you deeply and wraps his arms around you to pull you in closer, offering full control to you. His breath speeds up.

You pull away after a moment, lips brushing against his as you catch your breath, but only for an instant before moving towards his jaw, sucking marks onto his skin.

Minho quivers at your touch, his breathing speeding up once more as you leave red and purple blemishes on his skin. He bites his lip to stop himself from groaning.

Your mouth moves from his jaw to his neck, leaving kisses and hickeys all across him, making sure that he is covered in them.

Your hips grind against him, breathing heavily with anticipation as you make your way to his chest.

Your hands and mouth are touching all of him, and each sensation triggers a reaction that he tries to conceal.

Your lips hover back to his lips, staring at him longingly. “Do I have to command you for you to do anything to me? You don’t have to ask. You have my permission. Do whatever you want.”

You can see his gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth, to your neck, and then towards your chest.

You swiftly lift yourself off of him to let him remove your dress, leaving your body as bare as his own.

You grasp onto his neck, bringing him in for another deep kiss. Minho remains silent as he kisses you, allowing you to leave him as many marks as you desire.

“What are you thinking, Minho? Speak to me.”

He takes a moment, letting out an unstable breath. “I’m thinking of what you are doing to me. I,” he stammers, “I want to make you feel good.”

“Then do it. Please.”

“I don’t want to harm you,” he breathes out, “you’re injured.”

“The nurses said to not do,” Minho presses his eyes shut as you bring your hips up to meet his, “fuck, anything straining.”

“Remember what Daddy said? I can be convincing.” You sneer as your bodyguard fails to keep his cool composure, but the aching cock pressing into you is giving his true desires away.

You eye his internal struggle between following your orders and his cravings, or the nurse and his boss.

“I don’t want to hurt you. I can go relieve myself in the bathroom.”

“I like being hurt.”

You notice his lip twitch at the comment, and you decide to provoke him further, grinding into him, and set a steady rhythm with your hips.

He groans as his head drops back, tugging onto your hair and trying desperately to control his breath, “Please, Y/N, I just want to take care of you.”

“You can take care of me in another way.”

“I need to follow orders.”

“Then I order you to fuck me.”

His eyes pinch shut as he tries to clear his head and reason with himself.

Perhaps if he were gentle, it would be alright.

But how long could he remain gentle when you were splayed out in front of him, willing to take anything that he gave to you?

He made his decision, gripping your shoulders gently and flipping you, pinning you to the bed, and surveying your face for any discomfort.

When he finds none, he impatiently unclasps his belt, throwing it to the floor along with his dress pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

You hold yourself up by your elbows, thighs pressed together and mouth watering at the man in front of you.

His hands were delicate, although they could easily snap you in half, as he unclasped your bra, leaving your top half bare.

Minho stopped to take in the view for a moment before grabbing at one of your breasts, his mouth attaching to the other.

Your whines were like music to him— something that he wanted to hear more of.

Your back arched in pleasure as he moved one hand down to your thigh, caressing it for a moment before slowly slipping his hand into your panties.

“Try to stay quiet, darling, I don’t want any staff checking on us,” He hushed you with his lips attaching to your own once again, feeling your wetness all over his calloused hands.

His thumb brushed against your clit and you whimpered into his mouth, clenching around nothing.

Minho then plunged two fingers deep inside of you and curled them. He was becoming lost in pleasing you, overlooking his own ache between his legs.

Your thighs shook beneath him, feeling him brush against your g-spot brutally. “Minho please, please just fuck me. I want you inside of me so bad.”

At your request, he slipped his fingers out, feeling your cries against his lips from the loss of friction.

“Yes ma’am.” He pulled away from your lips, replacing them with his now dripping fingers, lapping it up with his tongue.

Next, your ruined panties were yanked off of you, with his boxers soon to come after.

One hand gently relaxes on your hips, cautious to avoid aggravating your injuries as he uses the other to guide himself inside of you, a deep groan followed by your whines.

He gives you a moment to handle the stretch, but you hardly need it, already begging for him to move.

Minho cautiously thrusts, taking in a deep breath and furrowing his eyebrows in concentration. 
This is the ultimate test of patience for him. He needs to be as gentle as possible with you.

Ultimately, he sets a slow pace, hands locating themselves on either side of you, letting out uneven breaths as he tries to control himself from how good you feel around him.

“You really do care, don’t you?” Your hand reaches to cup his face, gazing into his eyes that are hazy with pleasure.

He keeps his response short, too concentrated on the waves of bliss through each thrust, “I do care.”

“Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?”

You study him, watching his adam’s apple move as he swallows deeply, inhaling sharply. He halts his thrusts for a brief instant.

“Both, maybe. I can’t tell.”

That was enough for you to continue, grabbing another handful of his hair and bringing him in for another hungry, deep kiss.

With each deep thrust, Minho’s mind got hazier and hazier, losing himself to pleasure bit by bit. You could feel it by the way his rhythm became rough and desperate, and his pace picked up.

One of his hands left your side, creeping towards your throbbing clit, causing you to let out sobs, all of which he ate up with his mouth against your own.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He coos, knowing that you’re too lost in bliss to respond.

He takes your whines as a ‘yes’, his thumb rubbing circles faster, coaxing your orgasm out of you.

Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing your eyes closed and letting out a lengthy, drawn-out moan as his pace picked up even further.

“Just like that. You’re so good for me, so, so good, fuck,” he talked you through your orgasm between his thrusts, chasing his own high.

His brows crease, hips stuttering at how good it felt to have you gripping so tightly onto his cock. Finally, he let go, his load spilling inside of you and seeping out.

Both of you took an instant to catch your breath, coming down from your highs.

His hands slowly traced your curves in contentment, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell.

Finally, he has a justification to gape at your body up close.

From your jawline to your hickey-covered chest, down to your bruised sides and stitches near your abdomen, and— Oh fuck.

Your wounds.

Minho slowly pulls away, feeling a sense of post-nut clarity and fright.

His hand slides away from your body, staring at you with concern.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, your own anxiety suddenly displayed on your face, “Do you regret it?”

“No! No,” He panics, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?“

Back in reality now, your wounds ache and your head pounds with exhaustion and overexertion.

His mind calculates the solutions to the situation— ways to explain to the nurses, to fix you, to help you feel better.

It was his shortcoming, after all. He let his urges get to him.

“Let’s run you a bath.” He pulls himself up, tugging on his boxers and heading towards the bathroom.

You hear the tap turn on, lying in bed trying to catch your breath. Your breath is harsh from both adrenaline and pain, but you can’t help but feel as though the latter is more of the cause.

You had slept with a small handful of men, primarily Daddy’s men, but none of them were quite like Minho.

He was tough but breakable. He was still kindhearted at his core— something that wasn’t all that common in the business.

You could tell from the way that he ran the bath, bare muscles glistening from sweat, running his hand through the water to make sure that it was the ideal temperature. How concerned he was about your protection, even through his pleasure.

Not many other men that you’ve met throughout your life have been the same way.

You’re quite fond of the man that you have just met.

You hear the water shut off and footsteps coming towards the room. He holds a faint smile as his steps come towards the bed. Your gaze slowly wanders to his physique.

“It’s ready for you.” He says in a slight whisper.

“I order you to pick me up and bring me to the bath.”

He nods at your order, hooking his arms underneath your thighs and back, his strong grip securing you.

You inhale the powerful stench of gunpowder stuck to his skin, finding comfort in your bodyguard’s presence.

“Will you wash my hair?”

Studying his expression, it’s hard to read, but you let him carry you and place you into the water.

‘I do care,’ you recall his words.

‘Is it because you’re my bodyguard or something more?’ ‘Both, maybe. I can’t tell.’

Perhaps you had feelings for the man, especially while he massaged shampoo into your scalp with tough hands, making sure to rub your temples.

“Have you ever been a bodyguard before?”

When Minho hears your question, he hums while he proceeds to wash you, working on scrubbing the areas where he touched you earlier. “No, you’re the first one I’ve been a bodyguard for.”

“I did things for your father before this. Not as a bodyguard, a more, I guess, dangerous role,” he dismisses the question.

“Is that so?” You fall to silence as he continues to wash you, taking his time and guaranteeing that he gets every part. He hesitates when he washes around your injuries— every stroke and movement of his hands is smooth and temperate.

“Let me relax for a minute alone,” you murmur, “You should put your clothes back on, the maids should be here any moment to take my order for lunch. They won’t find it suspicious that I’m bathing, but they will question why you’re with me.”

Minho nods and pulls away from your body.

He stands up and his feet splash on the wet floor. He takes a double take at your closed eyes.

The way your body floats in the bath is something that catches his attention. You look very pleasing in such a vulnerable position.

He leaves the room, cracking the door to make sure that you are safe.

Minho buttons up his wrinkled shirt, pulling the jacket over it and smoothing it out to ensure that nobody suspects anything.

Minho’s eyes turn to the maid who enters the room with the ring of a bell.

His demeanor is unfazed, a hand on the gun in his pocket once more. He holds eye contact, his stare intense.

He would make sure that there wasn’t another incident.

“Where is Miss Y/N?”

“She is bathing at the moment.”

She nods, walking towards the bathroom and knocking on the door.

You hum, allowing her to enter.

“What would you like for lunch, ma’am?”

“I don’t know, surprise me.”

A few seconds go by as you immerse yourself entirely in the water before rising back to the surface.

“Minho,” you call out, “What would you like?”

You hear the faint sigh that Minho gives as a response back to your question.

“I’ll just have a sandwich or something, whatever you have is fine.” He replies to both you and the maid as she exits the bathroom, fulfilling her duty of reporting your lunch choice.

The bedroom door shuts behind her.

“Minho!” You call out once again, “I order you to take me out of the bath.”

A few seconds pass before you hear Minho’s footsteps come near the bathroom once again. He grabs a towel as you stand, body bare and dripping with water.

His eyes have an intense focus as he reaches out his hand.

Minho pulls you up from the bath wraps the towel around you, making sure to cover all of you, and begins to dry off your hair.

“Minho,” you begin, “Daddy can’t know about what happened. He’d shoot you dead on the spot.”

Minho pauses for a moment, his eyes darting across the floor.

He is silent for a moment. “I won’t reveal anything to him.”

“Good boy,” you cling to the towel covering your body, “Go fetch a maid to dress me. While she does so, I want you to change out of that suit and shower before lunch.”

“Then I’ll go shower now. I’ll be back.”

You hum in agreement, stepping towards your bedroom as a maid rings the bell.

You drop your towel, letting her sift through your drawers to find decent clothing.

She eyes a hickey on your breast, along with the other injuries across your body from the kidnapping.

“Your injuries look agitated, Miss Y/N, are you sure that a bath was the best idea for you?”

“Don’t question me,” you grumble, “I took a bath because I wanted to.”

“Yes, miss.” She pulls the dress above your head smoothes it out, and clasps a necklace behind your neck.

“You’re all set for lunch.”

The moment that you come out of your room, you can feel his presence. He is leaning against the front door of the room with an unreadable expression.

He has another suit on, a fresh one. Minho’s previously muskier, dark scent has been replaced by a new, sweeter fragrance.

“First shower at the estate?” You question, “Our soaps are quite lovely and mild on the skin. You smell wonderful.”

Minho’s lips curl at the compliment, looking you up and down, “Seems that we both are putting our best foot forward.”

You look around to see if anyone is watching before leaning to ruffle his damp hair and leave a kiss on his cheek, taking the man by complete surprise. He makes an effort to regain his composure, but you can see that his cheeks are blushed from the touch.

As soon as you lean in to lock arms, you feel him lean over to you to whisper something.

“I would love to do that with you again.”

You froze in your spot, heat rushing to your thighs.

You must regain your composure, caught off guard by his blunt words, something unlike the ordinary nature of Minho.

He takes a seat across from you, watching every move that the maid makes to be sure that she doesn’t try anything— he has learned his lesson.

“Pressed Italian Picnic Sandwiches and tea,” The maid states, setting the plates on the table.

You scrunch my nose up. “What’s in it?”

“Artisanal prosciutto, aged provolone, and sun-dried tomatoes inside of a crusty ciabatta,” She doesn’t hesitate to list the ingredients, “and a fragrant blend of rare loose-leaf teas with fresh cream and sugar cubes.”

She sets the teapot and cups out, along with a carton of cream and a bowl of sugar cubes.

Minho’s hand rests on his gun, waiting for her to leave before taking a sip of tea.

You follow his action, dumping a couple of cubes into your tea and bringing it to your lips.

I finish my lunch with Minho.

“Let’s go back to my room now. I'm exhausted.”

Minho nods his head and you both finish up the meals quickly.

You both leave the dining area and stroll back to your bedroom.

As soon as you get back into the room, you feel Minho close the door behind you.

You don’t hesitate to climb into bed and lie down.

The guard looks over at you, observing the way that your chest rises and falls as you breathe. He notices every movement that your body is making.

“I command you to lay down with me.” You lean back against the bed, your body still and eyes focused on his unmoving body.

He slips off his shoes silently, slipping into the canopy bed.

You grin, curling at his side, pressing against his body.

His breathing is deep and steady as he struggles to get into a more comfortable position.

Your mind began racing with questions about the mysterious man that you were slowly falling for, burying yourself further into the sheets.

“Minho,” you start slowly, “How did you become tangled with our family?”

Minho stays silent for a few moments and you feel his body shift a little against yours.

“I didn’t have a lot of money or family growing up,” he kept his answer short and simply, “the moment that this job came my way, I took it. The people connected to this business have always stayed on the down low, so this is an easy job to keep."

“Daddy seems to like you,” you grit your teeth.

Minho turns to you on the bed and sits up a little. He looks at you from top to bottom, reading the worry on your face with ease.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“He will kill you on the spot if he finds out. He’s done that to almost every man who has flirted or slept with me.”

You pause for a moment. “God forbid the one he hired as my bodyguard.”

“I am not so easily killed.” The words leave his mouth with a tinge of arrogance.

“I trust you.”

“Good.”

There is stillness between you both for a time, but he breaks it by grabbing your chin and leaning in to kiss you. You soothe into his touch, smiling against his lips briefly before he pulls away.

“I order you to stay here. Like this.”

It’s not difficult for you to drift off to sleep beside him, and as always, Minho pursues your request, keeping a close eye on you. You relax, your breathing slow, and he notes all of the occasional twitches and movements that you make in your sleep.

A couple of hours later, the door is knocked on by a maid.

“Dinner order?”

Minho jolts awake from the knock on the door, a hand swiftly placed on your shoulder to protect you from any threats before turning his head towards the noise.

His voice is full of sleep. “Repeat that?”

As she opens the door, there is a look of inquiry on her face, one that she won’t ask to ensure her job and health.

“Is she asleep?” She questions instead, glancing over at your peaceful figure.

He turns his head towards you to double-check, observing your napping body.

“Yes.”

“Alright. I’ll advise the chef to prepare her dinner later tonight.”

She gives a sharp nod to the guard and scurries out of the room, quietly shutting the door to not disturb the girl.

Minho’s eyes rest on the door for a moment, fully alert now with a hand resting on his gun.

Eventually, he turns over to you. He has his eyes on you for a few seconds before leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, letting out a small sigh.

You stir at the warm touch, scrunching your face up and stretching your body.

“What time is it?” You ask groggily before burying your head into his neck.

“Dinner is in about half an hour. You hungry?”

“Not really,” you pull yourself up and rub your sleep-filled eyes.

He notices your body shiver as you pull yourself up. Minho lets out a short exhale.

“Did you sleep?”

“A bit.” He doesn’t look away or turn his head as he admires the way you stand and stretch your body, smoothing your dress of its wrinkles.

You walk towards your vanity mirror, plopping down in the chair to readjust your necklace to the center. A few marks on your collarbone catch your eye.

“The nurses will be in shortly.” You grit your teeth. “I hope they don’t notice.”

“They won’t notice.”

His figure can be seen from behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His lips are turned upwards as he watches you fix your appearance.

You pull out a couple of foundations and concealers, working on concealing the marks left from earlier.

“The maids wouldn’t, but the nurses will tell the difference between a hickey and a bruise. Especially since these are fresh.”

Even though you are busy with your makeup and covering up the bruises, Minho’s eyes are never off of you. It is a feeling that you will have to get used to— always having a watchful eye on you.

Once you were satisfied with the coverage, you rose from your seat quickly.

“Get up, we’re going to dinner.”

“So bossy.” He retorts. “What will you have?”

“I want to go out, let’s go somewhere fancy. Daddy will pay.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You want to go out when you have had a beating just two days ago?”

He asks it like he thinks it’s an absurd idea, almost condescendingly, yet his tone of voice is soft and full of concern for you, causing your stomach to flip inside out.

“I’m tired of staying inside already. This estate is suffocating,” you pull on your slip-on shoes.

“That’s how I got myself into this mess in the first place. I left the house and got kidnapped. That won’t happen with you here.”

“I guess you’re right. We’ll go somewhere nice.”

“Good. I’ll go tell Daddy.” You leave the door open for Minho to come after but don’t wait for him, yet you can tell that he follows behind silently, attending to the way your body moves in the dress as you make your way down the halls.

The door is slightly ajar, so when you knock, it pushes open with a creak, revealing your father inside.

Minho stands behind you like a shadow, his lips pressed into a straight line, gaze locked on your father, keeping his distance from the both of you.

“Come inside,” the older man invites both of them with a welcoming grin, “sit.”

You can sense that your father has something on his mind, which is never a good sign.

“I was going to call you to my office shortly, anyway.” Instantly you assume the worst.

You sit down, taking a seat in front of him. Minho is still standing in the back, his priority on you and your father.

The man looks over at Minho. Their eyes lock for a moment. “Guard, go lock the door. There is a conversation that needs to be had.”

Minho nods and he turns his head, locking the door behind him.

He turns his attention back to you, who is frozen in your seat, breath hitching.

The elite man fiddles with a pen at his desk, clicking it to drown out the tense silence.

The silence in the room seems so heavy that you wonder how neither you nor Minho is feeling sick. Judging by the thick atmosphere between the three of you, it is easy to tell that he isn’t pleased right now.

He fidgets with the pen and you wait for him to finally speak.

“Do you find my daughter to be precious, Guard?” He addresses Minho with a stern voice, finally setting the pen down at his wooden desk with a smack.

“Yes sir,” Minho replies flatly.

“Are you willing to protect her at all costs, even at your life?”

After moments of silence, he answers back confidently. “Yes sir. I am.”

A hand comes to rest at his side, toying loudly with a handgun, which he eventually pulls out of his pocket.

Tears begin to well up in your eyes, yet Minho stays concentrated. There isn’t a single sign of fear on his face. He is unshaken, calm, and collected as if he had been foreseeing this exact scenario.

“Do you know why you were assigned to guard my daughter, Minho?”

“I know the reasons.”

“There was a leak to the rivals from a previous staff member that I had a precious daughter in my life,” He turns towards you, “the one that I had climbed to the top of my career to protect and assure her safety and security.”

He cleared his throat before darting back to Minho, “It took less than a day for her to be taken from my hands and placed in the hands of one of my greatest enemies.”

Minho pays attention to every word that he speaks and clears his throat, waiting for your father to continue.

“I care for my daughter more than anything in the world. Which is why I had appointed the most valuable, honest, and competent man in the family to ensure her protection.”

Minho nods.

“Please don’t kill him, Daddy.”

The boss meets you with cold eyes, disregarding your words to proceed with his lecture. “You are my most prized possession. I would hurt anyone or anything to make sure that not a single person touches you. The men who kidnapped you are all taken care of, wiped out by my command.”

He continues. “I know everything that goes on in your life. Every meal, every kiss, every injury, the staff must report every minor thing that occurs in your day. I have eyes on you at all times, and you’re more than aware of that.”

Your shoulders stiffen. He knew.

“Minho,” his stare is burning into the other man, “I’ll get to the point. Did you sleep with my daughter?”

He doesn’t blink. His body tenses up and his voice remains neutral.

“Yes.”

The boss turns the safety off of his firearm and you dig your head into your hands, unable to observe the scene that is about to unfold.

The gunshot is fired, but the man deliberately aims to the left of Minho, grazing his cheek with the bullet before standing up instantly from his seat. The guard doesn’t react with more than a blink as the blood pools at the cut.

“I trust you, Minho. You are a good man. If there is a single person who I would choose to give my daughter to, it would be you.”

Finally, Minho takes this as a sign to let his guard down for a moment as his shoulders drop, lip quivering slightly. It was evident that there was more emotion that the guard was holding back, especially when he took a moment to look away.

“You have my approval.”

Your eyes widen.

“Take care of my daughter. If you break her heart, I’ll feed your own heart to her for supper.”

“Understood.”

“Take her to dinner,” a wad of cash is pulled out from one of the drawers, “buy her flowers and anything else that she asks for.”

“Yes sir.” He responds, “I’ll make sure that she gets the treatment that she deserves.”

You run to embrace your father, to which he places an arm around you, rubbing your back before pulling away.

“Get yourself dressed more sufficiently, I will have a car ready for you soon.”

Minho follows you out of his office, letting out a breath that he had been holding in once the door was closed.

“Did you hear that?” Do you know what this means?” You beam at the man before grabbing at his cheeks and pulling him in for a kiss.

He lets out a surprised noise, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing back.

When you break the kiss, he stares back at you with the first big smile that you’ve seen from him displayed on his face.

“Let’s get you ready.”

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[writingforstraykids]

Pretty Boy- War of Hearts preview

Pairing: Chanlix (mention of Minchan | Minsung | Y/N)

Word Count: 4532

Summary: Watching his best friend and former lover Minho getting married breaks Chan's heart. Leaving the wedding early he gets pulled over for speeding by a surprisingly handsome officer...

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, friends to lovers to friends, minsung is getting married, chan gets a little drunk, bodyguard!chan, officer!felix, mafia boss!minho, smut, sub!felix, dom!chan, strangers to lovers, anxious!min

A/N: Soo I didn't plan on posting anything of the mafia series I've been working on yet but I thought I could use this chapter since it's very Chanlix centered🤭 I hope you guys like the first glimpse at the series (yn at the beginning only here). Hope you like it miu @miuracha 💕💕

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You sit down with them, taking Felix’s previous place, and look at Chan curiously. “Now I really wanna know how the two of you met. Felix isn’t usually like this.”

“I wasn’t either,” Chan giggles softly and rubs his face. “Fine, but I won’t tell you all the details,” he giggles, thinking back to the night he met Felix.

Four years ago

Chan watches the newly wedded couple in front of him, keeping up the fake smile he has been wearing for hours. Minho smiles brightly, kissing Jisung for the hundredth time tonight, and pulls him in close as they sway across the dance floor. The golden ring on his hand shines brightly beneath the lights, and so do those beautiful brown eyes he fell in love with all these years ago.

Minho's happiness is his top priority, especially after those last couple of years. Chan stopped counting the nights Minho clung to him in feverish nightmares, searching for him to hold him when he felt like falling apart. Now he's happy with someone else. It shouldn't matter. It should be enough to see him smile again, to be so purely in love and finally feel at peace. It should be, but it isn't.

Chan's heart breaks with every kiss he watches. It shatters with every loving gaze Minho gifts to Jisung and not him. Hearing them exchanging vows and tying the knot was by far the worst moment of his life since he lost his parents. He takes another sip of his drink and presses his lips together tightly, getting a little emotional. He needs to get out of here. Chan pushes himself off his chair and grabs the keys to his motorcycle.

"Channie, hyung," Minho's soft voice stops him, and turning around, he can see them coming toward him. "You're leaving already?"

"I'm not feeling so well, I'm sorry, Min," he lies smoothly.

"Oh no, what's wrong?" he asks worriedly, eyes scanning his body for possible signs of discomfort.

"Nothing, I'll be fine," he waves him off.

"Chan," Minho frowns at him.

"Min, sweetie," Jisung chimes in gently. "Let him go if he needs to rest, you have enough other bodyguards around."

"Yeah, but this is my best friend," Minho argues softly, not knowing how hurtful those two little words are for Chan. Jisung gives him a meaningful glance before excusing himself to go and talk to a friend of his. Minho gives him a quick kiss, and Chan is gone when he turns back around.

Chan races down the stairs of the wedding venue Minho rented and blindly fumbles for his keys as tears burn in his eyes. He reaches his bike and grabs his helmet, hands shaking as he unclasps it.

"Chan!" Minho calls out for him, rushing down the stairs and coming to a halt in front of him. He frowns seeing the tears in his eyes. "Oh, Channie, that bad?" he asks worriedly.

"I'm just feeling really sick right now, that's all," he says quietly, lowering his gaze to the floor.

"Let me drive you home then," he suggests.

"Min, this is your wedding," he argues. "You can't just vanish."

"I can do whatever I want," he snorts.

"Wouldn't be fair to him, would it?" he asks, and Minho's smile falters.

"He'd get it. You're my best friend, and if you feel like shit, it's my responsibility to take care of you."

"No, Minnie, it's my responsibility to take care of you. You're supposed to be in there with your husband-" he chokes on the word and swallows hard.

Minho gently grabs his hand, his ring burning against Chan's skin. "Channie, dear," he says softly. "I just…be careful, okay?"

"Of course," he nods quickly.

"Promise me," Minho asks gently.

"Min," Chan sighs, finally wanting to get away from this.

"Promise me you'll be careful. I couldn't handle it if something happened to you," he says, the grip around his hand growing stronger.

"I promise I'll be fine," he says, carefully easing his hand out of Minho's. He looks up and smiles at him bravely. "Go and have fun, alright?" he asks, and Minho nods hesitantly, searching his eyes.

He watches him climbing onto his bike and grabbing the helmet. He can tell something is very wrong, and he doubts it's what Chan says it is. Chan wouldn't leave his side because of that, he never does. "I love you, you know that right?" he asks timidly, and Chan freezes in his movements for a short moment.

"I love you," Chan answers just as timidly, and his gaze softens a little, meeting Minho's wide, confused eyes. "You look beautiful," he tells him gently, and Minho blushes almost instantly. "Thank you," he whispers.

"Come here," Chan sighs, and Minho steps closer. He hugs him tight and smiles as Minho holds onto him firmly. "You're doing great. I'm proud of you, Minnie," he says softly.

Minho's hold on him tightens. "Please don't go?"

Chan pulls back, cupping his cheek out of reflex. "You'll be fine."

"I feel safer when you're here," he confesses anxiously.

Chan shakes his head firmly, leaning in and planting a short, light kiss on his forehead. "You'll be fine," he whispers, and pulling back, there are tears burning in his eyes all over again.

Minho watches him, stunned, as he puts on the helmet and grabs his keys. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course," he promises, putting on his gloves.

"It's you and me against the world, right?" he asks timidly.

Chan feels like laughing at that. Minho just got married to Jisung but still thinks it's them against the rest. "Always, kitten," he says softly before starting the engine.

Minho stands still for a moment as Chan races off and nervously fidgets with his suit. He wonders if Chan would be alright and get home safely. Minho flinches softly as someone wraps their arms around him, hand resting on his chest.

"Hey there," Jisung says gently, kissing his cheek. "You're alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he nods and squeezes his hand, leaning back into him.

"He'll be okay," he tells him soothingly.

"I'm not sure this time," Minho shakes his head, deep in thought.

"He always is, he has to. He'd never leave you here if he didn't think you'd be safe," he points out, and Minho hums agreeingly. "Come on now, we have a party to celebrate," he says, gently pulling him with him.

-

Chan blinks away his tears, racing down the streets rather aimlessly. He doesn't want to go back home yet, he'll feel even lonelier in that big house without Min there. He has no other place to go, though. His parents are gone, there aren't any siblings, and Minho is all he had his whole life. The only constant variable in his life got ripped away for good. The safe house is over an hour away and full of memories. He can't escape it.

Chan speeds up a little, the wind pulling at his jacket, but he doesn't care. He'll just keep on driving all night and stay away from home for a bit. He notices the red light too late and curses to himself softly, that could've gone very wrong.

A loud siren behind him startles him a little, and glancing back through his mirror, he notices a police car getting closer. "Oh, for fucks sake," he curses and stops at the side of the road.

Felix parks behind him and hops out of the car. "That fucker really got some nerves," he whispers to himself, making his way over. "Excuse me, Sir, you-" he starts and loses track of his thoughts as the guy takes off his helmet. He meets a pair of soft and incredibly sad chocolate orbs he feels like he could drown in if he maintains eye contact for too long. Dark curls frame his face effortlessly, and god, those full lips. A quick glance down his body makes him suspect he's quite fit, and Felix scolds himself for getting all dreamy about a member of the mafia. It must be him.

"Yes, officer?" he asks patiently, resting the helmet on his thigh.

"You, uhm, you were speeding. And you ignored a red light," he tells him, frowning softly at his amused expression.

"I'm aware of that, thank you," he nods.

"That's not a kind reminder," Felix protests softly. "I just pulled you over because -."

"I don't get pulled over," Chan says calmly, and judging by Felix's stunned expression, he has no clue who he's talking to. "Ever heard of Minho Lee?"

Felix's eyes widen and he nods quickly. "Yeah, I did."

"Well, guess what, I'm pretty important to him. So remember this," he says, vaguely waving at himself and the motorcycle. "And don't pull me over again."

"I don't think I can-" he stammers.

Chan sighs heavily and reaches out for him, pushing aside his jacket gently to check the name tag. "Great, another fucking Lee who's ruining my day."

"You ruined that by yourself, Sir. I just reminded you of the law," Felix frowns, almost a little offended.

"The law's debatable," Chan shrugs and squints his eyes at him. He takes in the sight of him in his uniform and has to bite back a smirk, meeting his very confused brown eyes. Dark hair falls around his face, highlighting the freckles on it. He looks cute. " You're new here, aren't you?"

"Actually, I've been living here for my whole-."

"At the police force, darling," Chan huffs, and Felix's eyes widen, a soft blush creeping up his neck. Oh.

"I'm-Yes, I'm new," he nods quickly.

"I can tell," he says and smiles at him fondly. "Still so eager to do things right."

"We should," Felix nods quickly, subconsciously straightening his uniform.

"But they don't. And you won't if you want to survive this job," he nods thoughtfully. "You'll notice soon enough. Try staying away from Han's men, they're horrible to cops."

"Okay," he nods, wondering why the hell he is listening to this crap. "Sir, are you drunk?" he asks after a moment of silence.

Chan laughs out loud, and it's the first time today. "I'm not joking, stay away from the Han family. They're dangerous. It'd be a shame if they'd mess up that pretty face of yours," he says, and Felix's blush deepens. "But to answer your question, yes, I had a little too much."

"Then that's another reason you shouldn't be driving," Felix points out kindly.

"I have to get home somehow," he shrugs, staring up at the sky, slowly changing colors as the sun begins to set.

"You have no one to pick you up?" he asks, feeling pity for him.

"My best friend got married to another guy today. I have no one else," he tells him, not really sure why the fuck he'd be telling that to some random police officer.

"That's why you're drunk and driving so reckless," he hums understandingly. "You're heartbroken, aren't you?"

"What if I was?" he asks and watches him observantly. His brown hair shines beneath the setting sun, eyes sparkle beautifully. Chan can't help but think again about how effortlessly beautiful Officer Lee is.

"Then I'd feel sorry for pulling you over…but on second thought, not really. There's no use putting yourself at risk because someone hasn't found you fitting for themselves," he says very gently, observing Chan's eyes. "Maybe you're not the right person for him, but I'm sure you'll find your missing piece one day."

"Well, thanks for the advice, Officer Lee," he snorts and once more checks him out. Oh, fuck it. "When does your shift end tonight?"

Felix glances at his watch. "In five minutes," he tells him.

"May I take you out for dinner after? Make up for the trouble I caused you?" he asks smoothly, and Felix's eyes widen before he gathers himself quickly again.

"Purely that?" he asks, and Chan raises his eyebrow at him.

"You're bolder than you look," he smirks. "Not really, no."

"Well, then skip the politeness and take what you so clearly want," Felix announces, not without blushing heavily.

Chan sees right through him and nods to himself. "If you let me," he nods reluctantly.

"Please," Felix nods, growing a bit shy. He crosses his arms behind his chest to hide his hands shaking.

Chan looks at him, amused. "I don't know if you're naive or touch starved to get into bed with some stranger, but I'll take it."

"I know very well who you are, Mr. Bahng," he says, and surprise flashes in Chan's eyes. "You're the head bodyguard of Mr. Lee, and that best friend you've been talking about is the very same person. You're in love with your boss."

"Huh," Chan laughs stunned. "And that doesn't stop you from climbing into bed with me?"

"That's what makes it exciting," he corrects him, and Chan smirks.

"I believe your five minutes are over, dear," he says calmly, and Felix hums softly. "Keep up, alright?" he asks, putting his helmet back on.

"You bet," he grins.

-

Felix gets onto the motorcycle behind him, wrapping his arms around him to steady himself. They decided to park the car back at the police station to avoid raising suspicions, and Chan kept his helmet on as Felix did.

"Hold on tight," Chan tells him, and Felix hums, agreeing. He starts the engine and drives off with him. He knows Minho would be pissed knowing he brought a police officer back home, but he couldn't care less. He just wanted to forget and feel good for a night.

Chan soon parks in front of the mansion and hops off his bike, taking off his helmet. Felix does as well and smiles at him shyly. "Come on in," Chan chuckles and leads the way.

Felix follows him through the front door, looking around curiously. Chan takes the helmet from him and puts it aside, reaching into a small closet drawer next to the door. He pulls out a piece of soft silk and gives him an apologetic smile. "He'd kill me if I'd led you through the house with your eyes open."

"Oh, okay," Felix nods gently, swallowing nervously as Chan steps closer. Their eyes meet, and sparks ignite between them. "Can I kiss you?" he asks politely.

Chan chuckles softly and cups his face, pulling him into a gentle kiss. A soft sound escapes Felix's lips, and he grips Chan's suit jacket, pulling him close. Chan's arm snakes around his waist, and he lets him enjoy that feeling. It has been years since he kissed someone and he only realizes now how much he had missed it.

Felix takes a few steps back, pulling him with him until his back hits the wall. Chan braces himself on the wall, caging him in, and the moment Felix parts his lips to catch his breath, Chan's tongue slides into his mouth. A low groan escapes him as their tongues slide against each other sensually. He reaches up, burying his hand in those thick curls and arches into him. Chan's playing with his hair, pulling at it as he deepens the kiss.

Neither of them notice the front door opening until someone clears their throat. "Channie?"

Chan flinches heavily and pulls back panting, turning to look at him. Minho stands there, still in his wedding suit, and watches him with wide eyes. "Min, you're back already?"

Felix connects the dots and realizes the man in front of them is Minho Lee, one of the most important people in town.

"I-uh, I came to check on you, but you seem to feel fine again," he says, nodding slowly. He looks a little hurt, realizing Chan hasn't felt sick. "So you're…you're not feeling sick?"

"Not anymore," Chan answers, and he isn't even lying. He hasn't been feeling exactly well the whole day, watching the love of his life marrying another man.

"Mhm, okay," Minho nods quietly before his eyes fall onto Felix. "And that is?"

Felix bows gently before him, dark messed-up hair falling into his face. "I'm Officer Felix Lee, Sir," he introduces himself. "It's an honor to meet you."

Minho frowns at him softly. "Not really, there's nothing special about me other than my mother's legacy," he says and looks back at Chan. "Why are you bringing a police officer back home without my permission?"

"Since when am I asking for permission?" Chan gives back and glances at Felix. "Felix and I just met, we've decided to have some fun tonight."

Felix smiles at the way his name rolls off his tongue. "You can cover my eyes now, by the way," he chimes in gently. "I've probably seen too much already."

Chan smiles softly and nods, pulling the silk from his pocket. He steps behind him and soothingly squeezes his shoulder. "Close your eyes, pretty," he says and locks eyes with Minho as he covers Felix's eyes. "Don't you have a husband to get back to?" he asks, more coldly than he intended to.

"I-I guess I do," he nods, not fully understanding why his heart hurts and his stomach cramps with jealousy as he watches Felix. He just got married; for fucks sake, why is he so focused on Chan? "We'll talk about this later, Chan."

"Nothing to talk about, you won't do much different tonight," he shrugs and wraps his arm around Felix's waist, pulling him in. Felix leans back into him, breath hitching as Chan places a kiss just below his ear.

"Why?" Minho asks, barely audibly pointing at Felix. "You're usually not like that."

"You broke my heart, that's why," he says, and Minho's face falls. "It's nothing new, and I won't stand in your way if you're happy with him. But let me deal with my side of emotions the way I prefer."

"I-I'm sorry," he whispers, tears brimming his eyes.

"No, you're not," Chan says quietly. "Because you don't have to." He steps in front of Felix and lifts him up after a gentle warning.

Felix wraps his legs around his waist, arms around his neck, and nudges his nose against Chan's clumsily. He leans to his ear as he plays with the base of his hair. "Need you so bad, Channie hyung," he whispers, not seeing the beautiful smile breaking across Chan's face.

"Don't worry, sunshine, I got you," he gives back lowly and exchanges a last glance with Minho before carrying Felix up the stairs.

"But I am sorry," Minho whispers to himself, anxiously fidgeting with the sleeves of his suit. His chest tightens a little, and he sucks in a sharp breath. He never wanted to hurt Chan like that. Never. Had he been faking to be happy for him for years now?

-

Chan gently sets Felix down as they reach the corridor to his room, taking the fabric from his eyes. Felix's soft eyes flutter open and meet his. "No wonder you fell for him, he's incredibly handsome up close," Felix states, making Chan chuckle, surprised.

"Stop talking about Min, alright?" he asks gently and cups his face. "He's not important tonight."

Felix nods kindly and fondles down his sides almost hesitantly. "Where's your room?"

"Just over there." Chan gently caresses his cheeks and pulls him into a kiss. Felix's hands rest on his hips as he kisses back fiercely. They get lost in the feeling for another bit before Chan takes the lead and walks them to his room, never breaking apart. Chan kicks the door closed behind them and turns the key, trapping Felix between the door and his body.

"Can I?" Felix asks, reaching for Chan's suit jacket. Chan hums gently, and Felix brushes the jacket off his shoulders, locking eyes with him as he starts opening the buttons of his shirt. Felix hesitantly lets his hands roam his skin once he's done and bites his lower lip hard at the thought of the rest of him. "Fuck," he breathes out, a little stunned, as Chan grabs his neck and pulls him in again.

Chan pushes his thigh between his legs, smirking as Felix's jaw drops. "Feels good, pretty boy?"

"Uhuh," Felix nods dumbly, pressing down against him needily.

"Go on," he encourages him and reaches for the first button of his uniform. "I'll start taking that off for you while you do."

Felix doesn't need a second invitation, grinding down against his thigh with a low groan. He watches as Chan unbuttons his uniform and shivers with need as Chan's fingers brush against his bare skin in the process.

Chan notices and glances at him curiously. "You haven't been touched in a while, have you?"

"Not really," he confesses, blushing heavily. "It's a bit of a weakness of mine," he adds, glancing at him through his lashes.

"How much time do you have?" Chan asks, and Felix swallows audibly.

"For you, all night," he breathes out.

Chan hums softly and picks him up, carrying him to his bed. He lowers Felix into the pillows and climbs onto the bed, hovering over him. "May I make up for the time you missed then?"

"Please do," Felix nods shyly. He watches with interest as Chan gets comfortable between his legs, bracing himself next to his head. His lips plant tiny kisses down his jaw before they land on his neck. Felix melts into the sheets beneath him as Chan starts kissing his neck, leaving small bites all over it, slowly moving down to his collarbone. Sinking his hand into his curls, he whines softly as Chan's lips travel further, tongue lapping at his nipples.

Chan has no idea how long he stays like that, exploring Felix's body with his tongue, teeth, lips, and hands. The man beneath him writhes in the sheets, soft, helpless sounds tumbling from his lips. Chan's face is buried between his thighs by now, having worked up his way both of his legs. Felix's body is littered with reddish marks by now and covered in sweat, worked up from Chan's pleasurable touches. Looking up, he smiles at the sight of him. His dark hair sticks to his face, brown eyes blown with lust, lips swollen and parted. "Enjoying yourself, pretty?"

Felix hums, agreeing, and bites his lip hard as Chan gently eases off his boxers. His head falls back as Chan teasingly licks up his shaft and massages his balls with his hand. "Ch-Chan," he chokes out.

"Get on your hands and knees for me, will you?" he asks, and Felix nods, eager to please him and finally get what he wants. Felix turns around, knees buckling a little. Chan reaches for his bedside table, grabbing a bottle of lube and some condoms for later. He spreads Felix's cheeks with his fingers and licks up between them. A guttural moan falls from Felix's lips at that, pushing back the moment Chan's tongue pushes against his hole. Chan switches between tongue and fingers, working him open slowly. Felix's arms collapse as he locates his prostate, and Chan bites back a moan at the weak sound leaving his lips.

"Channie - stop," he pleads quietly, face buried in the pillow. "Fuck, please," he whimpers.

"What's wrong?" he asks, fingertips brushing against his prostate once again.

"I'm gonna-" Felix squeezes his eyes shut, body shaking as Chan massages his prostate so perfectly. It's too much. Too much after all those teasing and loving touches before, too much after being touched so right after all this time. Felix's body tenses up, and he releases into the sheets beneath him with a weak sound. His face flushes red with embarrassment, and he hides in the pillow. "Fuck, sorry."

Chan leans down, kissing his spine, and shakes his head. "Nothing to be sorry for."

Felix frowns softly and peaks at him timidly. "But I came without asking for permission."

Chan blinks at him, heart melting at the sincere apologetic look on Felix's face. "I told you I'd make up for that time you missed. I wanted you to feel that good."

Felix's blush deepens. "So you're not mad?"

"No," he tells him with a kind smile, and Felix's heart melts. That's a new one.

"I think I'm ready for you now," he tells him with a sheepish smile. "Can I take care of you now?"

"Okay," Chan nods gently and lets Felix guide him onto his back. He watches him curiously as Felix straddles his lap, eyes fluttering as Felix wraps his hand around his so far untouched dick. Felix flicks his thumb over the tip and strokes him a few times before handing him the condom. Once Chan is ready, he pours some lube into his hand, stroking Chan once again and getting into position. Chan's face contorts in pleasure as Felix slowly sinks down on him.

Felix braces himself on his chest, moaning softly as he tries to adjust to his size. He experimentally moves his hips and allows himself to relax and sink down deeper. "Feel so fucking full already," he groans deliciously.

Chan moans, relieved once he's buried fully inside of him, and rests his hands on his hips. "You're okay?" he asks, watching Felix observantly.

"Yeah," he nods, panting a little. "Just need a moment."

"Take your time," he says gently, rubbing his hips soothingly.

"Okay," Felix says to himself, lifting his hips and sinking back down on him after a moment. They both moan at the movement, and Felix repeats it, Chan's hips meeting his this time. He braces himself on his chest and works out a rhythm that feels good for them both. Felix moves eagerly on top of him, moans falling freely from his mouth by now.

Chan beneath him has his head thrown back into the pillow, jaw growing slack at the tightness of Felix around him. After all, it's been a while for him too. "Fuck, Felix," he groans softly.

Felix tries to angle his hips a little differently to hit his prostate but doesn't fully succeed. After a few tries, a frustrated whimper leaves his mouth, and Chan glances up at him.

His breath hitches, seeing tears brimming Felix's eyes, and he has to bite back a groan. Wow, he didn't know he had a thing for that. "You're okay, pretty boy?" he asks gently, and Felix shakes his head, whining softly.

"Need more," he admits, and Chan understands, gently patting his hips.

"Let me help," he says reassuringly, and Felix does, letting him angle his hips a little differently. Chan thrusts up into him, and Felix rewards him with a deep, relieved moan, nails digging into his torso. Chan's eyes roll back at the way Felix clenches around him, moaning obscenely loud and shaking on top of him. "Fucks sake," he breathes out, pounding up into him desperately. Felix slams his hips down against him, their moans growing louder. They chase their high together, pushing each other over the edge soon after. Felix collapses against him, and Chan lazily thrusts up into him still, rubbing his back soothingly.

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

After a moment of silence, Felix glances at him with a shy smile. "Again?" Chan kisses him fiercely as an answer, flipping them over in the process. Again.

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @atinyniki @mal-lunar-28 @lilmisssona @aaasia111 @galaxycatdrawz @kthstrawberryshortcake @channieaddict @soullostinspaceandtime @malfoygalaxies @rebecca-johnson-28 @sundownimup-1 @aalexyuuuhm

#stray kids #skz #mafia au #bodyguard!chan #officer!felix #mafia boss!minho #chanlix fluff #chanlix smut #chan smut #chan fluff #chan angst #felix smut #felix fluff #minho angst #minsung #minsung fluff #minchan angst #poly!skz #poly!stray kids #war of hearts #preview

[rairecs]

title: break in case of emergency author: martyrsdaughter rating: explicit wordcount: 72339 pairing: han jisung/lee minho fandom: stray kids summary:

How could someone this handsome guard anyone? Wouldn’t he be more of a distraction than a threat? Maybe that’s his secret weapon—maybe he uses his face to hypnotize people into leaving the person he’s protecting alone. It sounds like the plot of an anime. There should be an anime like that out there; Jisung makes a note to search bodyguard anime when he’s home for the evening.

Jisung hires a human anti-anxiety pill. 

link

#stray kids fic #stray kids fic rec #minsung #lee know #han jisung #lee minho #au: canon divergence #bodyguard #soul bond #mutual pining #tw: anxiety #author: martyrsdaughter #wc: 70000 #this was so good that all i wanted to do was read this and ignore all of my responsibilities

[straykats]

taking a break from work and watching the skz cosmopolitan vid and i'm telling you guys. bodyguard changbin. i'll write it one day. i know there's probably a handful of bodyguard changbin out there but i wanna do it vmnjsknvjsk

#and also minho. i have a very very very specific idea of bodyguard minho. #kat talks

[bahablastplz]

SKZ Recs (NSFW)

As a chronic fanfic reader, I have a lot of recommendations. So, these are the ones I think about the most. All of them include smut, so they're 18+. Red text indicates fics on AO3. Go support these amazing authors!! Enjoy!! <3

Bang Chan 

The SKZ house @writeonwhiskey (Chan x reader x Hyunjin…SKZ but make it a frat… and also sexy) 

Silent cry @j-0ne25 (Fake dating/friends to lovers, live laugh hurt comfort… emphasis on the hurt) 

Love is intuitive @skzonthebrain (forbidden love and angst… so emotional and loving <3) 

Kinktober Day 8 @dreaming-medium (breeding, best friend, fake dating, so sweet and spicy) 

Summer in Seoul @writeonwhiskey (strangers to lovers, summer love, spicy and romantic) 

Saturday mornings @skzdarlings (Chan/reader/Seungmin where Seungmin is an absolute menace that gets reader in trouble… dom Chan is so good in this one omg) 

It’s cold out @therhythmafterthesummer (roommate Chan is going through his rut… oops there’s more ABO on this list than I realized sorry not sorry) 

Bodyguard: The first guard @skzdarlings (A sequel to the bodyguard, an ongoing work that has elements of enemies to lovers and great, in-depth world building and character development)

However you want it, lover-lover @cbini (you ask your bf Chan to step on you after watching spicy edits of him on tiktok omg)

More than just friends @kwanisms (roommate Chan is entering his rut... he's usually able to control himself but this time you're ovulating. sprinkle some brat taming in here as well and it's so delicious)

Lee Know 

The Experience Project @leeknowsallyoursecrets (Enemies to lovers Lee Know, really good plot and relationship building!) 

Sanguis Limerence @jl-micasea-fics (Vampire OT8, Lee Know x Reader x Chan, SUPER good world building, especially in their sequel with the backstories… I was so invested. And it’s super hot)

Barb Wired Brat @roseykat (BDSM Lee Know with reader going into subspace… awakened things in me) 

Audience @gimmeurtmi (2 min, wet dreams, exhibitionism, degradation… yeah) 

Well Shit @2chopsticks2eyes (Brother’s best friend, inexperienced reader, enemies to lovers and fwb… literally so good) 

Sea May Rise, Sky May Fall @skzms (Lee Know x Reader x Han, ongoing series, Pirate AU with beautiful world building, in-depth characters and great smut)

rsvp @cbini (teasing dom vampire boyfriend Minho and you get the punishment you deserve... brat taming and so so so sexy like it's insane)

Changbin 

 The accidental acquisition of sugar @skzdarlings (accidental sugar daddy Changbin x reader that’s absolutely hilarious with great smut) 

Valentine’s series ‘do you really think you’re in a position to give orders’) @skzdarlings (forbidden love/romeo & juliet style but with gun play… um this was so hot tho) 

Close your eyes (...And count to seven) @MysteryBird (Possessive gang leader bf! Changbin that you’re trying to piss off by sleeping with the other members… 100k+ words and so delicious) 

Hyunjin 

Praise kink Hyunjin @dreaming-medium (A kinktober fic, enemies to lovers detective Hyunjin… absolutely delicious) 

Snowed In @moonjxsung (really artistic, heartfelt, and beautifully written)  

Jury’s still out @straywrds (rivals to hooking up/hate sex… super spicy and hot) 

Dressing down @jl-micasea-fics (shopping trip with best friend Hyunjin turns out spicy ahh the chemistry) 

Han 

Watch your six  @dreaming-medium (sensory deprivation kinktober ah this is engraved in my brain) 

The same but different @skzdarlings (ahh hanlix fairy au where they’re linked with great world building and is so funny… I maybeee think about this every day) 

Sea May Rise, Sky May Fall @skzms (Lee Know x Reader x Han, ongoing series, Pirate AU with beautiful world building, in-depth characters and great smut)

Felix 

The bodyguard @skzdarlings (Forced proximity, enemies to lovers, had me SUPER invested and made me cry) 

The same but different @skzdarlings (ahh hanlix fairy au where they’re linked with great world building and is so funny… I maybee think about this every day) 

Snap out of it @2baabbies (Felix gives you the option to either go home with your shitty boyfriend or go home with him at the end of the night ahhh!!) 

Seungmin 

Bet on it @skzonthebrain (Academic rivals, enemies to lovers and such good tension/chemistry) 

Audience @gimmeurtmi (2 min, wet dreams, exhibitionism, degradation… yeah) 

Saturday mornings @skzdarlings (Chan/reader/Seungmin where Seungmin is an absolute menace that gets reader in trouble… dom Chan is so good in this one omg) 

Seungmin + hairpulling @straykeedz (kinktober fic, best friend Seungmin finds out you have a thing for hairpulling and can't get you out of his head... this is taken straight from the deepest depths of my fantasies i s2g)

no nut november @gimmeurtmi (this whole nnn series is fantastic but seeing Seungmin lose his composure because of his breeding kink does something for me)

august is a fever @seungminheart (mean dom Seungmin... you don't think he is really into you so you see how far you can push him/I love mean dom Seungmin and I think this fic does it just right)

I.N. 

Lavender boy @hyunsvngs (A/B/O Alpha jeongin… super sexy and great dynamics) 

Clueless @jeongin-lvr (inexperienced big dick I.N. that just wants to make reader feel good… also omg he’s so hot in this pls) 

Better and better @seungminheart (sharing a bed, best friend Jeongin, amazing banter, soft dom Jeongin, brat taming, every trope from my hopes and dreams)

Third leg? @beesspacedotorg (huge dick alpha Innie... some brat taming, great banter and dynamics and sexy)

OT8 

Sharing a bed series @skzdarlings (Best trope ever and they really do it justice) (Chan's is linked but you should read all 8)

Sharing is caring @skzms (Minsung x reader x OT8… really well written spice) 

Fake texts @thefantasyden (I swear these are like crack I read them every single time) 

Kinktober23 @roseykat (one of the first SKZ blogs that I started reading that really brought me deep into the fandom… My fav from this is Table Manners and Bible Studies, and it has a part 2)

All Bark no Bite @doitforbangchan (Main pairing is Chan x Reader with some OT8, it's an ABO au with some really good spice)

Masterlist

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz #skz smut #skz x you #skz x reader #skz imagines #bang chan #chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan x you #lee know #lee minho #minho #skz minho #stray kids minho #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee know x you #stray kids fanfic #changbin #seo changbin #chan smut #chan x reader #changbin x reader #changbin smut

[l1xvanter]

SKZ fic recs !!

-- most of these are felix, and some of them are jisung and minho :3

-- {❤️‍🩹} = angst {💋} = mature/suggestive {💞} = fluff || pink means personal favorite !!

-- they are organized by member and word count

⟡ ᶻz﹒l.felix﹒➳﹒

should i stay or should i go? 1.6k by @sachifukyo ❤️‍🩹

take a chance 2.4k by @smuttystraykidsthoughts 💋💞

soulmates 2.8k by @writingpei 💞

23.02 4.1k by @lettersfromaphrodite 💋💞

that hufflepuff boy 5.1k by @kkami-writes 💋💞

kinktober day 5 5.7k by @dreaming-medium 💋

why does it hurt 6.7k by @skz317cb97 ❤️‍🩹💋���

hey, hey, golden boy! 11k by @staysuki ❤️‍🩹💞

dogfight 12.1k by @bbujiikseu-archived ❤️‍🩹💋💞

matters of the head and heart 13.1k by @skzsauce01 💞

warm light at daybreak 14k by @moonflowerchanniesgirl ❤️‍🩹💞

felix navidad 16.4k by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids ❤️‍🩹💞

forgive me for what i haven’t done 17.5k by @rachalixie ❤️‍🩹

beauty and the beast 18.8k by @comet-falls ❤️‍🩹💞

lee felix’s guide to hating you 21k by @yyxgin ❤️‍🩹💞

seasons 24k by @moonjxsung ❤️‍🩹💋

aurora 21.8k by @changbunnies ❤️‍🩹💋💞

★﹒﹒l.minho﹔﹪﹒➔

call of the siren 5.7k by @tasteleeknow 💋💞

when we twisted shadows back into stars 15.3k by @skazoo ❤️‍🩹💞

out of my mind 15.6k by @luvknow ❤️‍🩹💞

swordsman 16.5k by @missinghan ❤️‍🩹💞

the enemies to lovers project 18k+by @softukiyos ❤️‍🩹💞

conflict, conceal, confess, 18.1k by @fizzydrink698 💋

in another lifetime 18.9k by @luvknow ❤️‍🩹💞

labyrinth 20k by @soobnny ❤️‍🩹💞

fields 23.5k by @hoes4lino ❤️‍🩹💞

lost in translation 26.5k by @moonjxsung ❤️‍🩹💋💞

୨୧﹑h.jisung ﹕ ‧₊˚ ⋅

on my mind 8.6k by @staytheword 💋

catfish…? 9.2k by @seungminheart 💋

sakura 12.4k by @j-0ne25 💋💞

series !! (all felix x reader) ༻*ੈ✩

happy pills by @seospicybin 18.7k words total; finished ❤️‍🩹💋💞

[a cute series for a quick read <3]

twin flame series by @seospicybin 31.2k words total; finished ❤️‍🩹💋💞

[caused emotional trauma tbh, i was crying at 2am]

fairy flowers by @hyunsvngs 36.8k words total; finished ❤️‍🩹💋💞

[this one is insanely fluffy and cute i liked almost died from how sweet it was]

too hot to handle series by @seospicybin 38.5k words total; finished 💋💞

[this series also has versions for leeknow, chan, han, and changbin]

off the deep end by @stayxlix 82.3k words; ongoing ❤️‍🩹💋

[words cannot begin to explain how good this series is, if you have some time and sanity to spare, please read this !!!]

bodyguard au by @skzdarlings 110k words total; finished ❤️‍🩹💋💞

[INSANELY GOOD. please read this, it also has a oneshot that goes with it. went through hell and back while reading this i was so invested.]

#felix angst #felix scenarios #felix fluff #felix x reader #lee felix #felix imagines #felix lee #felix smut #felix x y/n #felix x you #lee know x reader #lee know #lee minho #lee minho smut #lee know smut #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #skz fic recs

[bluejutdae]

• friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jeongin x Noona!reader

Chan , Minho, Changbin Jisung , Felix, Seungmin

genre: friends to lovers

Warnings: none

The restaurant is nice, the food is delicious. Your date is horrible.

That’s what you get for trusting dating apps and giving in the peer pressure of your colleagues and downloading the aforementioned app. On paper, this guy is perfect: tall, pretty, loves animals and has an interesting job. In reality he’s an incel and, despite your protests, decided to sit on your side of the table so he can try and cop a feel every now and then.

You even tried texting Changbin for an easy way out of this date but your friend isn’t answering. It would have been useful having him here, since he’s good at looking like a bad guy… and his arms and shoulders help a lot. You have half a mind to text Chan, or Minho, since they’re also good at scaring people off, but you’re not sure you want to bother them.

The one person you’re absolutely not going to text (and not going to tell about this date to) is Jeongin. It’s already awkward enough that you have a massive crush on him, you’re not going to ask him to rescue you.

Your crush will go away eventually. Doesn’t matter that you could celebrate its first birthday in just a few weeks, it’s just a silly little crush. This is what you tell yourself, at least.

Your feeling started growing little by little but, the moment you realized, you also realized you were fucked. And not in a fun way. Why did you have to fall for the pretty, younger, talented guy who is guarded by 7 hyungs like they’re bodyguards? On top of this, you’re pretty sure Minho’s onto you. You can see it in his eyes anytime you laugh a little too loud at Jeongin’s jokes and you look at him a little too long.

Unbeknown to you, Jeongin is looking at you right now. And he’s boiling. He’s so ready to jump the guy that keeps scooting closer to you, uncaring of the fact that you keep scooting away from him. The same guy keeps touching your arm and your hair despite you asking him not to do it.

Jeongin is a time bomb. And he’d have intervened sooner, but how is he going to explain the fact that he’s here because he followed you after he heard you talking about going on a date? One thing is having a crush on his noona, another thing is following her to make sure she’s not going home with her date safe.

To Jeongin, his noona is so pretty, so kind, so perfect, no one deserves her.

Sadly, not even him.

Not that he has a chance.

He can’t forbid you to go on dates, but he can make sure you’re okay and that you’re gonna think of him while you’re with other guys. So he takes out his phone and quickly types a text.

You spot Jeongin in the restaurant and a thousand questions start wandering in your mind. Why is he here? And why did he text you knowing you were there? What was that about the guy being a loser? In your peripheral vision you see him pay for his dinner and come closer to your table, so you prepare yourself to pretend he’s your cousin or friend whom you haven’t seen in a while and you want to catch up with. What you don’t expect is for him to sit so close to you he’s almost in your lap, with an arm around your shoulders and a sexy smirk on his face.

“Noona, you’re too pretty to be wasting time with this guy.” he says, and his voice is loud, too loud. Your date starts to protest his words and ask questions, but you’re too taken aback by Jeongin’s behavior to answer. The younger guy is cocky, his usually cute smile is now a cruel smirk when directed to your date and when directed to you is… flirtatious?

“Innie” your tone is almost admonishing, but you don’t really have it in you to reprimand him.

“And who is this kid?” asks your date, after having tossed his napkin on the table. His stand is one of dare towards Jeongin and his tone is provocative.

“This kid is the one who’s taking her home.” Jeongin replies, a mocking smile on his lips. It’s time you step in, or this can get ugly way too fast. With a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder you try to tell him to tone it down a little and with a polite and contrite expression you turn to your date. “I think our night should end here. I’m sorry if I’ve wasted your time, but we’re not really a good fit.”

“And you’re really gonna go home with this kid?” You take a deep breath. You might put up with someone insulting you, but you don’t like the tone he’s using to talk about Jeongin. You roll your eyes and signal Jeongin to get up so you can leave. Reaching into your purse you grab your wallet to pay for dinner. “Yes, I'm gonna go home with him. Try to be less of a creepy pushy asshole and maybe one day some girl might consider going home with you. In the meantime, I hope women will recognize quickly what type of men you are.”

You grab Innie’s hand, who in the meantime is giving the guy a gloating smile, and make him follow you outside or the restaurant. You try to let his hand go but he holds your with determination and leads you to a close playground. You sit on the swings and for a minute you’re silent, swinging in the night, enjoying the fresh air.

“I need you to explain, Innie.”

“Do I have to, Noona?” What is he going to tell you? The truth or a lie? You nod in his direction and then occupy yourself with trying to spot a few stars in the night sky, waiting for him to explain. He seems to think about what to say, hands fidgeting in his lap and his teeth worrying his lip.

“I followed you.” Your head turns towards him so fast you give yourself whiplash. “You what?”

“I was worried! You decided to go on a date with a guy you met on a dating app!” His tone sounds accusing, but you know him enough to know there’s something more. “And I was right. The guy was an asshole. I wanted to punch him when he kept touching you even though you tried to get at a safe distance.”

“Innie… I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. You don’t have to worry about me. You don’t have to… to protect me.” He makes a face like he just ate something he hates. “How did you even find out about the date?”

“I heard you talking on the phone. Sorry I followed you.”“It’s okay, just don’t do it anymore, uh? Let Noona worry for you, not the opposite. I’m the older one.”

You thought it was the right thing to say, but apparently it was not, because Jeongin stopped swinging on his swing and he’s making an expression you don’t want to see in his face. He looks sad and almost in pain.“Jeonginnie?” You ask in a tiny voice, trying to understand what was that you said that can justify his reaction.

“Is this all I’ll ever be? Just a dongsaeng?” He kicks softly at the sand at your feet, head bowed down and words hushed.

“What do you mean? You’re my dongsaeng. Why is that bad?” He shakes his head and doesn’t answer but you can hear him sigh.

“It’s not bad, just…” he shakes his head again and gets up. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

“Wait, Jeongin…” despite your words, he keeps slowly walking away from you, so you follow him quickly until you reach him. Walking side by side you try to think back to yours and his words, but you can’t seem to grasp the problem.

“Jeongin, what’s wrong?” He keeps walking and when you try to hold his hand to slow him down and face him, he takes it away. Uh, this hurts.

“Innie, c’mon, talk to me. Noona’s sorry, okay? Tell me what I did wrong and I’ll fix it.” Maybe he’s angry he feels like he has to watch your back? “I won’t make you worry anymore, that’s my job since I’m older.” The moment your last word is out of your mouth, he stops on his track.

“Stop saying that, you’re making it worse!” He's loud now. Which isn’t uncommon, but not in this kind of circumstances.

“I don’t understand.”

A gust of wind makes you shiver and, to fight the sudden cold, you hug yourself. You hate fighting with Jeongin, and luckily it doesn’t happen often, but now you’re having an hard time understanding what even the fight is about.

Seeing you shiver, Jeongin takes off his jacket and puts it on your shoulders. “No, Innie. You’ll be cold like that, you need it more than I do!” He holds it around your shoulder with more force.

“Stop, stop, stop it! Stop treating me like a kid. I know I’m younger and I’m just a kid but stop always making it so painfully obvious. I know I’ll never be more than your dongsaeng, I know you’ll never look at me and see a man, but fuck, stop doing this all the time. Once, just once, let me take care of you. Let me be something more than just a kid in your eyes.”

“But-“

“No, I get it, okay? It’s embarrassing knowing a younger guy has a crush on you, you probably laugh about it with your other friends because it’s pathetic, I’m pathetic, but Noona… today I got to help you and I was so proud of myself but then that asshole called me a kid and you didn’t correct him. And I realized that, no matter how hard I try, I’ll always be just a kid to you.”

Being young, being considered the youngest and therefore the one who needs coddling and help is one of the things he hates the most. And you knew, you talked about how he hates being babied by his hyungs. You prided yourself for being someone who wouldn’t treat him like that. Yes, you let him get away with things cause he’s endearing and your dongsaeng, but you didn’t realize you’re part of the problem.

On one thing he’s wrong, tho. You don’t see him as a kid, you do consider him a man, but telling him wouldn’t be effective. So you do the next best thing you think will send the right message. You kiss him.

His lips are warm against yours and, after the initial shock, he’s kissing you back. Your hands raise to reach around his neck and rest there, holding him close to you

Soon, too soon, he’s moving away a little to look at you.

“What’s this?”

“You’re wrong about something, Jeonginnie. I’ve always looked at you and seen a man. I didn’t know you have a crush on me, or I would have done this sooner. Because I have a crush on you. And I felt like I had no right to want you.”

His smile is blinding, and you love to see him like this.

“You have a crush on me, Noona?”

“I do. Is that okay?” Instead of answering you with words, he kisses you again and his smile can be felt in the kiss.

“Innie, I know you’re not a kid. But can I still call you my baby?” The wind carries his laugh and you feel so happy you want to dance.

“As long as I’m yours, you can call me whatever you want.”

Hand in hand, his jacket still on your shoulders, you walk home and you’re the happiest you’ve been in a while.

(The day after, he wakes up with a sore throat and a mild fever. You don’t have it in you to scold him, and you promised yourself not to baby him, so you let his hyungs do that and you play the role of a good girlfriend and you cuddle him in his bed.

When Minho enters the room and sees you this close, you swear he’s threatening you in Morse code or telepathically: if you hurt him, you’ll have to answer to us all. But you’ll do the same, so you nod and give him a little smile. Deal.)

#bluejutdae #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz #jeongin x you #jeongin fanfic #jeongin x reader #jeongin scenarios #Jeongin x Noona #stray kids fake texts #skz fake texts

[houpss]

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐊𝐙 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬

aggression, a little angst, vanilla and fluff

Some members will have not only points, but also background. Some won't have it (!)

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧

This man is possessive and quite jealous. Chan is an adult man with formed emotions and convictions, and one of his convictions is that he never shares his own, be it members or his personal belongings.He, of course, knew personal boundaries and understood what was possible and what was not. But when it came to jealousy...

It was the evening of a closed fashion show in France, where SKZ flew and you flew with them. You were also a significant figure in the modeling industry and that is why you were invited to the show. K-pop stars and American industry stars gathered there: singers, directors, models and actors. Absolutely everyone was there. Chan knew that this was a noisy event and that's why Stray Kids fit in perfectly there. There was a fashionable party, an atmosphere of fun filled the halls and Chan liked it, until the moment he saw that you were surrounded by male attention.

This man will literally become overprotective and he will follow you with his eyes unless you are near him.

No, Chan didn't get jealous often. He has 8 members, Chan has a big and generous heart!

Only small children of their parents are jealous when they pay attention to someone other than their child. But Chan, after all, could and knew how to be jealous, he did it.

You felt his cold and patronizing gaze from meters away in the hall, this aura hovered around you.

As soon as you are near him, he will immediately calm down.

He will immediately return to the state of the kind and smiling Chris!

"Awww my Y/N is so beautiful todaay"

"My princess stole the show here."

He's literally very soft.

After such a scene he will be your "bodyguard", when you talk to someone, he is nearby. He quietly check that no one is doing unnecessary things.

When you return to your hotel room, Channie will become very soft and clingy.

"Y/n! Chris is tired and wants your hugs!"

"Chris wants Y/n's soft kisses"

You laugh softly at him and you clearly give him what he asks for.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰

Minho wasn't one to get jealous a lot. He was deeply convinced of his and your feelings. Jealousy is too stupid. But this was only the case up to a certain point.

You were also a dancer and for a large-scale show you were given a dance number with your colleague. The dance was quite energetic, sexy and literally amazing. Minho saw your training and didn’t pay much attention to it. You would never cheat on him. You talked about it so much that it made Minho nervous, but he remained silent. He knew it was important to you. There was a show tonight where you performed with your colleague. Minho sat in the hall with Jisung and Jeongin. Some time passed before your number began, it was the middle of the show. Oh, it seems this fellow colleague is too close to you, this was not planned.

Minho's eyes instantly narrowed as he watched this creep touch and dance with you.

The muscles in Minho's face began to flex as he clenched his jaw.

He arches an eyebrow and snorts, he could have done it much better.

By the end of the performance, jealousy consumed him.

He wanted to kill this guy. Minho was cruel.

After the performance, he left Jisung and Jeongin in the hall while he went to your dressing room.

He urgently wanted to see and feel you.

You sat in front of the mirror and took off your makeup.

"That guy allowed himself too much, my dear."

"What are you talking about, Ho?"

"No one dares to touch you the way I touch you."

He leaned towards you and buried his nose in your hair, his hands on your shoulders.

“Next time, I’ll dance with you myself.” He would like to add to his sentence: “I’ll fuck you in front of that guy so that he understands everything himself,” but he remained silent.

Your gentle kiss will even improve the situation somewhat. Minho is your home cat again.

𝐒𝐞𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧

You and Changbin go to the gym together, he works out his muscles, and you do stretching and yoga. You and Changbin were passionate about sports, it was an integral part of your couple! There were many men and women in the room, Changbin was always a little jealous. He just loves you too much!

But this time it turned out that you were training in different halls of the same sports complex. You worked out in the gym with other women, but Changbin was paranoid that men were staring at you.

This man will not be able to train normally and will only think about you.

He won't be able to continue training until he checks on you.

He will spy on you 🥷

From time to time he will run from gym to gym and watch you do yoga surrounded by other women.

It calmed him down...

After your training, he will hug you tightly and kiss the top of your head.

This man will become very loud and happy in your presence.

"My Y/n is so sweet! Binnie is happy again"

𝐇𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

Hwang Hyunjin was perfect, such a guy had everything he wanted, but most importantly he had you. He wasn't overly jealous, but "you're mine" and that wasn't discussed. He hated the idea that there was someone else who could touch you the way he touched you and tell you the things he told you.

When he left SKZ on tours or events in another country, he would definitely become overprotective from a distance. He's just afraid that someone will take his place, maybe you can find someone more ideal than him? Expect constant video calls and unobtrusive questions from him, he may be too dramatic or whiny, this is normal. One evening you will be talking via video call, because you stayed in Seoul and Hyunjin in France.

"I saw your posts on Instagram, are you hanging out with someone?? 🥺"

"Yeah,Jinnie, I finally met a friend I haven't seen for a very long time."

"Let him not allow himself too much—"

"ARE YOU JEALOUS?"

Hwang Hyunjin and jealousy? never.

"She was holding your hand too tightly in that photo! This woman allows herself a lot."

"You're literally jealous right now~"

"This is not jealousy, but ordinary boundaries 😡"

"You're very cute when you're jealous, I love you"

He will turn into a puddle after these words.

𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

Han Jisung doesn't know how to be jealous.

He is absolutely confident in both you and himself.

But some trainee from JYP ENTERTAINMENT became interested in you and showed you signs of attention.

At first he didn't pay attention to it.

It didn't bother him because you were always near.

But then he began to notice that you would either smile at this guy or talk to him in the corridors of the company.

He, he'll get worried.

You will notice this.

Jisung will become less cheerful or tender with you, slowly moving away.

You sit him next to you and make him talk.

"Have you found someone better than me?"

"Why do you think that, Hannie?"

He will look at you sadly, now he is not happy and will not joke.

"You spend so much time with that trainee guy...–”

"Oooh...he doesn't know Korean, so he asked me to help him! but between us there is only a working relationship"

will this calm him down?

Not really.

He will reach out for your hug and sigh softly when you hug him back.

"Tell me right away if he bothers you 😡"

"HAN JISUNG–"

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

This boy is very shy and touchy :((

When he is jealous, he will be like a pet...In the sense that he will follow you everywhere and he will look so sad.

He just overheard your talk on the phone and didn't like the content.

"Do not you love me anymore?"

He sniffled, it seemed the boy had been crying for a long time.

He was a flower, and you were his sun.

He will sit next to you on the couch and press against your side. His head is now on your chest and his legs are wrapped around yours, he's like a koala.

He's just afraid that you'll leave.

"Why do you think that, freckle?"

You haven’t really changed into your home clothes, because you just came from the street.

You stroke Felix's blond hair, looking at his tear-stained face.

"You...you...went somewhere, before that I heard your telephone talk...sorry"

He literally wouldn't be able to speak properly because the tears were choking his throat again.

He will cry and bury his nose in your chest. Please don't leave him.

"Baby, I was at a meeting of directors, I was urgently called there"

You chuckle quietly and tuck his hair behind his ear.

He is your gentle angel.

"Really...?you won't leave me?" his eyes brightened as he sniffled and looked at you.

You nod affirmatively and kiss his forehead.

He will cry even more because he will be ashamed...

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧

Seungmin wasn't someone who got jealous a lot or often, he didn't care about that. But he reacts quite brightly when Someone allows himself too much towards you.

He would be angry and not understand alone, he would come up with a lot for himself and would be even more offended by you. He would pull away and give you freedom. Moreover, you can not communicate like this for several days, that suits him.

It really made you nervous that Seungmin could leave so easily and then come back as if nothing had happened, he never explained the reasons. The boy did as he saw fit. You may be able to catch him and get him to talk, he will be quite rude, but eventually he will break down and quietly admit that he feels insecure because of your actions. You felt so offended because Seungmo didn’t tell you right away, but only confessed now. Now you will agree to immediately talk about your jealousy and fears every time. Seungmin will really try his best for you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

Maknae is also quite jealous, due to the fact that his hyungs are loving guys, this extends to you, but Jeongin doesn’t like it. You spend time with boys a lot, which can cause Jeongin to get nervous and say something like "Hey! Don't touch her", then SKZ will turn their attention from you to Ninnie.

In general, you and Jeongin are like two big children for SKZ, even if you are older than Jeongin. You are a sociable, bright and talkative person, people are drawn to you. Jeongin notices this and tries to tone it down a bit, he wants all your attention. He just gets a little angry when there is increased attention to you and tries to immediately concentrate your attention on himself!

"Why Hyungs coming at you like that..."

"They just love me too much~"

"THEY CAN'T LOVE YOU THE WAY I LOVE YOU"

The maknae is furious, you are his only one.

You immediately start laughing and kiss him on both cheeks, making him squint like a fox.

No one will want to offend this beautiful little fox.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz headcanons #stray kids imagines #skz female member #skz female oc #skz hyunjin #skz reactions #skz x female reader #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids reactions #stray kids x female reader #skz imagines #skz bang chan #skz lee know #skz changbin #skz jisung #skz felix #skz seungmin #skz jeongin #skz i.n #skz angst #skz fic #stray kids angst #angst #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #fluff #bang chan

[hanjisunglover]

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 - minsung.

pairing: Han Jisung x Lee Minho x fem!reader

genre: smut, consensual threesome, bffs to fwb

word count: 3k

warnings: mention of using aphrodisiac chocolate, possessive behaviours, jisung and minho are a little manipulative, spit kink, using of pet names, they guys calls yn slut twice, sub yn, dom minho, switch jisung, dirty talks, oral receiving (m to f), double penetration, breeding.

summary: y/n is jisung's best friend, and everybody knows that with jisung's pack, you have also Minho's pack. They are always together, they share everything.. and everyone.

"This is a bad idea," you murmur, as you walk right beside Jisung, to entering the airport. Around you two the staff and the bodyguards with the other members are walking in the check-in area, ready to go straight to the lounge of the VIP section.

"Why?"

"Stays doesn't really like me," taking the decision to go with Jisung, your best friend, with his teammates and the staff for the concert in Tokyo wasn't the right idea. You know Jisung since you were a little kid, you guys just can read each other's thoughts. "Oh c'mon, they like you."

“They don’t,” Minho talks, right beside you, now you’re between Jisung and Minho and this doesn’t change the things, its just make it worse. “See?”

You say pointing at the fact that Minho just showed - a really annoyed face. Not that he doesn’t like Stays, he just knows them better, he pays more attention that he shares. Jisung roll his eyes and sigh, shaking his head, “well better, more for me,” Jisung whispers blushing lightly, hoping that you didn’t actually hear what he said, and you didn’t in fact. But Minho heard, Minho heard and he’s smirking.

"also, I appreciate that you guys want me around, I just, wanted it really clear," the two guys just chuckles at your words, making everything even more comfortable for you.

You met Jisung before Minho, a really nice guy. Always around with his headphones, flirty, making you feel like more than just friends. You know. It’s clear. But you guys never talked about being something, it would be too weird. Or that's what you think. He just knows that he would be the best boyfriend for you, he would move the world to make you smile, you’re the main topic in his days. Minho on the other hand at first was really cold with you, he is someone that it’s really introvert, making really hard to get close or just share some words. He didn’t like you, when you went to present yourself at a party with the other members he hated your dress because he wanted to rip that off your gorgeous curves.

"y/n? wanna take a sip?" Felix's voice wakes you up from the thoughts in your head as he moves the straw of his coffee toward you, you just smile as you get close to the drink, sticking out your tongue lightly to take the straw in your mouth but before the contact jisung move the straw away, "take mine. it's the same."

His voice sounds pissed, but you don't let this overreacting action conditioning your feelings and you do the same exact thing under Jisung's and Minho's gaze. That small action of you sucking jisung's straw makes the guy need to look away, or else his hard erection would be too obvious. Minho, on the other hand, saw everything.

As you guys take a sit on the chairs in the VIP lounge, you feel something weird growing between you and your two friends. "what's wrong?"

"nothing," both of them talk, at the same time, you cross your legs, one over the other and Jisung casually put his arm around your waist, a move that a normal friend would do. right? or at least that’s normal for your friendship with him.

"y/n why you decided to wear a dress?" Jisung mumble next to you, his gaze it's obviously on your thighs, that it's clear as a sunny day; you don't know why but that feels actually.. nice, to have his eyes on your body like that. You blush. "I mean, why not?"

"why not?" Minho sigh a chuckle right next to you, he's such a big watcher, especially when it's about his best friend and his little friend. His tone is sarcastic, because in their opinion you should not wear that dress. Not for the others, not in front of other people, that’s their property that gives too much imagination for the rest of the audience. But you’re not supposed to know that.

"yeah.. I mean, what's wrong with that?"

"everything it's wrong with that," Jisung talks after some seconds of silence, his arm grab your waist tight, almost scared that you can leave soon, "come here, the sit it's cold, I don't want your thighs to freeze."

You almost trip for the quick grab that jisung has on your hips, that moves you - almost lifting from your seat on his lap. you are now, sitting, on his lap. with his hand erection pressing on your ass. You can clearly feel it, your blush just increase more, spreading all over your cheeks. Jisung’s hands are holding your waist, almost like you’re gonna run away from his comfort sit. Minho move close to Jisung now, his arm on the back of jisung's seat and their eyes are locked in your back, you can feel their gazes. You can hear the low talking that they are making about some things that you don’t know, your hands are under your knees right on jisung’s, that makes the guy almost cum in his pants at your touch.

Is not the first time that you are on jisung's lap, but it's the first time that you are on his lap with a dress on, and this light dress makes you feel all of his big dick - and you can tell that it's thick. You can hear Minho chuckles as you move uncomfortably on jisung's lap, makes the guy contain at his best the whimpers, "look who's having fun here."

You turn your head a little towards the oldest, you know exactly what he means, "'m not.. 'm not doin anything," you murmurs, the oldest move closer, brushing your hair with his hand as he travel down on your back, slightly touching jisung's pants and your ass. "but you are, sweetheart."

The tension grow between the three of you, you cover your face with your hands, sigh deeply. "all shy and innocence, but you're a naughty one don't you?" Jisung's whispers in your ear, you feel shivers down your spine. "oh, there she is," Minho chuckles as he stroke jisung's hair with his hand, moving him closer to your shoulder, "so damn cute."

Their murmurs are making you really embarrassed, your thighs press against each other, your moves keep grinding almost too naturally to explain. That makes them knows that, you are ready for them.

The whole trip the two guys keep teasing you, touching your thighs, almost under your skirt; making squirm every time. They were having so much fun with you and your cute little reactions, that was almost enough to satisfy them.

After their concert you are really tired, you went to Japan with them because ‘they needed their lucky charm’, you think it was just a cheap excuse to have you around. Night that you’re complaining. You like being around them, jokes are always in the air, the playful attitude that they gives to you every time you step in a room, it’s something that you’re grateful for it. You yawn as you walk along the hall, toward your room for a shower and then some sleep but then your phone ring, and it's a jisung's text.

jisungie | 22:03 : hey :) are you in your room?

y/n | 22:04 : not yet, I need a shower ㅜㅜ

jisungie | 22:04 : come in my room, me and minho wants to make you try something that we found in the airport!

jisungie | 22:05 : not trying to kill you haha i promise baby

You roll your eyes at the sight of the texts but you agreed, they are your best friends, why lying or hurting you? You turn on your feet and you start to walk on the opposite direction, to Jisung's room. Your mind start to wonder around, getting lost in your thoughts , about their 'thing' to try. You don't have any clue, to be honest, they left you with Chan and Felix at the airport for ten minutes and they came back with a plastic bag, and a big smirk in their faces. You couldn't see what was it, not that you were really interested, you were more interested in why they were all touchy and so needy with you. That never happened before, you tried to ask but they were pretty careless. They knows that you liked ‘cause your reaction was pretty clear.

You knock at the door, where your friends are in, you can hear their voices that are talking and some low music in the back. Maybe some of the new songs that Jisung is keeping hide from the public, but you can hear the tone of his voice in the bars it’s darker, almost sexual for how good it sounds. You swallow feeling suddenly really hot all over your body, you don’t actually know what to expect, but you trust them more than anyone else.

You decide to knock a couple times, your eyes lock in the sight of the door that feels smooth at the touch. Your mind still working on extra hours at the thought of what it could be that they want you to try.

“There she is,” Minho’s voice it’s higher than usual, more giggly, more shaky. You raise your eyebrows surprised at the sudden happy atmosphere that is in the air as your step inside Jisung’s hotel room. “Hey guys! are you still high from the concert?”

"I wanna fuck you slow with the lights on."

“High? we are not high!” Jisung's voice it's even higher as both of them start to laugh together, you look around the room just to check if there's any sign of drugs in the room, but nothing. Except for a little box with blank and dark red colors, the writing in the box is not clear, it's in Korean and you can't really understand much of it. But if your instinct is not wrong, you are almost sure that it is aphrodisiac chocolate.

The words of the song makes your body shivers with your cheeks that are getting warmer and warmer. You sits between the two guys, they propose you to try, because why not? is not gonna effect you.. right?

You're not really sure but your fingers grab a small piece of the dark chocolate, is not your favorite type, you're more a fan of milk chocolate but you go for it. You can feel your body warm up after a couple seconds, your body feel relaxed and your mind it's getting blurry. Is this really working on you? you can just feel Minho's hand finishing on your thigh, squeezing your skin lightly almost to wake you up from your flow of thoughts. "y/n I told you to not wear the dress tonight."

His voice is a confused slur, too high on chocolate, feeling the blood in his veins warm at your presence right among them; he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. Jisung grunts nodding, totally agreeing with his best friend, "couldn't take my eyes off, I even messed up the choreography because of you."

Your cheeks grows red, "'m sorry.. I wanted to be pretty for you guys." A muffled moan comes from Jisung's throat as he puts his head in his hands, "pretty for us?" He's losing is control for your soft voice, he can imagine vividly the feeling of your skin in his hands; he's craving to have a single taste of you.

"do you wanna be pretty for us princess?" Minho talks, his breath it's right against your skin, you can almost feels his lips against the nape of your neck, you feel almost magnetise towards them. You gently nods: your mind already going blank. Your not sure if it's because of the high of the chocolate, or the huge attraction that you feel towards them, but you can't stop yourself from pushing your body on them. You gives them the permission, and then it takes them two seconds before pushing you down the bed, your soft dress already on the floor and you're half naked under their hungry eyes.

Jisung bend over to kiss your shoulder, his delicate fingers moves the shoulder pads down, letting you breathless. Minho caress your legs, from the ankles to your inner thighs. "so fuckin pretty now." His fingers are pressing against your flesh, making you shivers and arch your back, and they are just starting it.

"please," you murmurs as you squeeze your thighs together, going totally against what Minho wants, 'cause he grab your knees and he spread them wide again, "if you want to, keep this pretty legs open."

Jisung kiss your neck, his gently pecks are full of passion, you don't care if it's due the chocolate or the true desire, you just know that it feels amazing. Jisung's tongue trace your skin, making you whimper under them two, Minho chuckles grabbing gently your hand, kissing softly your wrist.

The younger moves feeling a rush of pleasure that he needs to relieve, their clothes are feeling too tight for the whole tension, Jisung moves between your thighs his hands massaging your flesh as he lean his soft cheek on your inner thigh as his eyes are locked on your soaking wet panties. "so wet."

Minho moves his smooth hands on your back, unclasping the bra and letting your tits free making their mouth watering, "God, 'm getting impatient." Your chuckles just makes them whimpering, their hands explode your body, desiring and possessing it.

You gasp so loud that makes them shivers when Jisung's tongue get in touch with your panties, you can feel yourself getting even wetter for the light touch, he's getting over the edge and it's not even close to getting in your pussy. Minho's eyes are half closed for the sight their actions, he moves the panties aside letting Jisung finally taste your wet folds. Jisung's eyes almost roll back completely for the taste of your nectar, his tongue licks and grind against your slit making you shake and moan. The music mix of her moans of pleasure it's the best thing that Minho have ever heard. Jisung is impatient, every licks and every moves of his tongue on her fold makes his nose hits her clit enough to make her arch her back. "o-oh god!"

Minho bend over, his tongue pass over her nipple, his other hand massage the other tit, palpating briskly as his teeth nibble the already hardened nipple. Your hands between their hair as they workship your body with need.

Jisung eats you out like a starving man, like he never touched a pussy before, his hands as squeezing, stroking, caressing your thighs and ass. Your legs on his shoulders and his face buries in your cunt, that's the best feeling that you ever felt before. And you're not a virgin.

The overstimulation that Minho is giving to your sensitive nipples is making you almost cum, "'m so close, i.. I have to — ugh, cum!" Your voice it's so pitch high, your legs shakes around the younger's head and your hands are traveling down Minho's lap with the intention of giving him the same pleasure that she's feeling.

"not yet, wait, please," jisung’s voice mumbles as he flicks his tongue over and over against your entrance, making your toes curl in pleasure. Minho move one of his hand on jisung's hair, pushing him close to her pussy making him whimper for dominance. Your hand touches lightly Minho's lap, making the oldest groan against your tits, you can't stop your orgasm to hit you with pleasure.

You're breathless, jisung laps your folds again before breaking the contact with a moan, his face it's the expression of the pleasure that he just felt, maybe even more than you did. Minho grab the back of his neck, kissing him roughly, he desire to feel you against his lips more than anything else, Jisung close his eyes as he kiss minho back, their tongues curls to each other making the kiss even wetter now.

Minho moves his hand on jisung's pants, unbuttoning his jeans and letting the younger with just his boxers, you gasp at the sight of the view, making your way on minho's pants, to do the exact same thing.

When you find yourself kissing one of the two men as the other one kiss your neck, marking you and biting your skin, to make sure that the next morning you're gonna remember every single action of this. Because you want to remember this, and they want it too.

"look at you, so wet," Minho whispers in your ear as he spread your thighs, Jisung moves behind you as he keep kissing you, he's such a messy kisser. You can feel minho's hard length pressing against your folds, you break the kiss with the guy behind you to look at the oldest, "m-minho please.. I need you.."

"such a whining baby." His chuckles fill your lungs as Jisung move his hand around your neck, squeezing it lightly just to make pressure around it, "only him? I feel jealous," Jisung whispers in your other ear, breathing deeply as his hips grind against your ass, making you back arch to the feeling of both of them, so tempt to enter in you.

"mhm, she's gonna have us both right? cause you're a good slut." His words makes you even wetter now, jisung and Minho connect their lips once again as you gasp and moan louder to feel minho's cock pushing himself inside your pussy. "feel so good," the oldest whimper and moan against jisung's lips, the other guy hold the back of his head with his hand.

You arch your back against jisung's chest, and you can feel jisung's cock pressing against your slit already stretch out where minho keep thrusting in you without stopping. His stamina will drive you crazy.

"Jisung, get in, please," you beg the younger as you grind your hips towards them, Minho is just pushing himself, you can feel everything, you can feel this muscles contract; their cocks grinding against each other inside you and that makes you scream for pleasure. Having both of inside you right now is the best thing that you ever felt.

They move together, with the best synchronization that just them two could have, you're between them as they hold your hips and thighs, minho kiss you as jisung bites your shoulder, "it's fucking good, this.. a-ah! amazing.."

"perfect pussy, sluttie," Jisung groan in your ear as your back, breathing heavily as you can just be there, feeling the best sex in your life because of your two best friends. You open your mouth for breath and the guy is behind you grab your chin, turning your face to him and he collect saliva in his mouth and then spits on yours, that feels almost too much good to be true.

Their cum exploding in your cunt, filling you up at the same time as they moan loudly, the overstimulation makes you squirm and shakes all over her body. Your juices is mix with theirs now, running down your thighs as you slowly move away from their bodies, too sore to talk; to sore to actually be able to face them. "you are, quite something," Minho chuckles breathless, as he moves beside Jisung, his head falls on your shoulder, grabbing gently your hand. Your eyes are falling down, you're feeling the chocolate-effect slowly release from your body as your second orgasm.

"we should buy more chocolate."

author note! finally, I finished this work! I hoped you guys likes it ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა @lyramundana

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[changbunnies]

All About You, (18+)

♡ Pairing: Royal Knight/Bodyguard!Minho x Princess!Reader

♡ Genre: royal au, historical au, arranged marriage au (reader only), age gap, angst, kind of forbidden love? (maybe more than kind of), basically porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k

♡ Summary: You, the princess who ran away from the castle after finding out your father, the king, has finalized your arranged marriage. Minho, your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, tasked with bringing you back home at all costs. When found, you hit Minho with a very interesting proposition- for him to be the one you share all your "firsts" with, instead of your inevitable husband.

♡ Warnings: age gap !! reader is ~23 while minho is in his 40s, please don't read if this makes you uncomfortable!, uneven power dynamics, outdated traditions and views on women to suit the setting, brief reference to death by guillotine, and death in general, mentions of injury and swordfighting

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): lowkey corruption kink, loss of virginity (reader), petnames (princess (mostly as a title), good girl), slight sub + dom dynamics, soft dom minho, submissive reader, a lot of kissing (should be expected from me atp), nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), slight overstim, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, creampie

♡ Notes: at this point i am determined to write a royal, historical au fic for every member, and my newest offering to you is minho <3 i was literally possessed writing this like once the idea hit my brain i had to get it out asap lmao you can also read the story on my ao3 here, and if you're interested you can also check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. In recent years, he had one job, and one job only, and that was to take care of the princess. Make sure she’s safe, escort her to where she needs to be and watch over her at all times- that’s all. Not always an easy job, but one of vital importance that Minho took with utmost seriousness. In the 3 years it’s been since becoming your royal knight and glorified bodyguard, he never messed up this critically. 

You always had a rebellious streak and challenged authority, everyone in the castle knew that. And part of Minho’s job, apart from keeping you safe, was keeping you in check- and the king made it extremely clear that failing to do so was not an option. So he lost track of the amount of times he uttered the words “Princess, please think rationally,” or “Please consider your responsibility to the kingdom, don’t do this,” in a near desperate attempt to get you to listen to reason. 

And today, he fucked up the worst he ever had. He knew you were upset tonight, but he was under the impression he successfully calmed you down, and that you wouldn’t do anything rash. He turned his back to you, thinking the storm had been quelled, and that you’d listen to your father, even if doing so felt like pulling teeth. He underestimated however, just how deep your sadness and anger truly ran, and the very moment you saw an opening, you took it. 

You fled from the castle with blind determination, nowhere to go and with little of value in your hands, fueled purely by the desire to escape your unfair circumstances, and live your own life by your own means. You may not believe it, but Minho understood, and felt for you- he really did. But that didn’t change what his duty was, and even if it made you hate him, he had to do his job to the best of his ability. 

So now here he was, roaming the streets looking for you, the hours passing in a blur. You must’ve done a good job of concealing your identity, because no one he asked had seen a young woman matching your description, and as the minutes ticked by, and sunset turned to midnight, he was at a complete loss of what to do. He made record time combing the entire bustling town, stopping into places full to the brim with people in the hopes he’d catch a glimpse of you in the crowd, and yet there seemed to be no trace of you anywhere. 

It was easy for someone to hide their presence in a crowd, or in the rowdy environment of a tavern, and you were more than intelligent enough to blend into a crowd and divert attention away from yourself. It was entirely possible that Minho had seen you at some point, and simply didn’t realize it, though he liked to believe he’d recognize you anywhere, no matter what you wore. Minho scowled, clenching his teeth as he scanned the dark horizon of the treeline; should he check the outer walls of the town for a clue, or double back and check the streets again?

He doubts you made it out of the town easily, considering you likely had no money on your person and little experience with the realities of the world. You were intelligent, yes, but sheltered; he could easily imagine you quickly getting in over your head, thinking you could make it to the next town without issue, only to end up lost and in need of help, with no one for miles to hear your desperate cries. 

Fuck. If he couldn’t find you, his head would most certainly be meeting the cold steel of a guillotine. He had no family who would mourn his loss, but still, he wasn’t ready to face his mortality. And the king, despite being someone he could call a close friend, would spare no mercy if he failed to keep his one and only daughter safe. But really, there was more to it than just the threat of death that kept him searching for you. Believe it or not, he genuinely wanted you safe and well, and he'd do anything to ensure you made it back home, even if it made you curse him for the rest of his days. 

As if God himself heard his prayers and decided to grant him a miracle, Minho sees you- there, on the outskirts of town, holding your cold hands up to your face and letting your breath warm them. It’s dark, the street barely even illuminated enough to discern your recognizable features, but he knows without a doubt that it's you standing there in the cold street, because truly, he knows you anywhere. 

By the time you realize you’ve been spotted and recognized, it’s already much too late to flee. Minho approached you with utmost haste, reaching out and grabbing your arm, lest you make the foolish decision to try to escape again. His hold, while not rough enough to hurt you, is firm, and it only takes one attempt at pulling your arm from his hold to know this is it; your escape attempt has failed, and you’ll be dragged back to the castle and reprimanded for your “temper tantrum.” 

Your father never listens to you, no matter how hard you try to make him understand and see your point of view. Maybe if you were born a boy, your opinions would be important to him, and he’d see you are more than an object to pawn off to whatever man gave him the most political power. “Princess-” “I’m not going home,” you interject before he even has a chance, though you already know it’s in vain. There is no avoiding returning to your glorified prison now that Sir Minho has you in his grasp. 

He sighs, but his face changes to one of sympathy, his grip on your arm loosening ever so slightly. “Can we at least go to an inn room? It’s not safe for a young lady to be on the streets at night,” he reasons with you, as gently as he can manage. Normally Minho is quite stern with you, but you get the impression that he feels being stern isn’t the right approach tonight. You’re known for expressing yourself very vocally, even when doing so is extremely ill-advised, and he is well aware of how opinionated and fiery you are. 

But treating this display as anything other than a genuine act of desperation, a culmination of years of perceived disrespect and conformity, would be another critical error- one he can’t afford to make. So he will be firm, yes, but gentle in his approach. You frown as you look at him; you’re stubborn by nature, and part of you wants to fight against him until the bitter end, but he’s not wrong about the streets being unsafe for you at night. You know he won’t let you escape again come morning, but that’ll have to be a problem for later; for right now, you really should heed his advice and go to an inn for the night. 

“Fine,” you concede, much to Minho’s relief. He could’ve forced you to go with him if he really needed to, but he’d rather avoid doing something so unpleasant. He leads you to a nearby tavern, which is still bustling with activity even at the late hour. He keeps you close as he pushes through the crowd of rowdy drunks to the dual innkeep-bartender, hoping that there is still a room available. The man departs, coming back with a key dangling in hand, “You’re in luck. Last room’s all yours.” 

Minho thanks the man and pulls out his satchel to pay him, leaving a few extra coins as a tip before stashing it back in his pocket, along with the key he was given, and the two of you go up the stairs together. “There’s only one bed,” you comment as you step inside the room, though Minho doesn’t seem to care much about that fact. “That’s fine, don’t plan on sleeping anyways,” he says as he removes his leather scabbard from his back, resting it against the back of the chair in the corner of the room. 

You frown as you sit on the bed and watch him; he must’ve been in a hurry when he received word you fled from the castle, as he wasn’t wearing any of his armor, strictly in casual wear you’d very rarely seen him in. Probably for the best, you think, because if anyone saw a royal knight desperately searching the streets, multiple alarms would be raised. He lights the fireplace, hoping to quickly spread some heat throughout the cold room, before he sits in the chair, crossing his arms and watching you carefully. 

Deserved, you suppose. How is he supposed to trust you’re not going to flee at the first available moment just as before? You certainly don’t make his job easy for him; he can’t take his eyes off you for a second. The silence between you lingers for some time, the crackling of the fire the only sound either of you hear, apart from the muffled patrons enjoying their drinks downstairs. Minho, despite his relaxed posture, looks like he’d be ready to jump up at a moment's notice should he need to. 

You sigh; should you just try to sleep? It’d feel awkward and uncomfortable to try to fall asleep with someone's eyes boring holes into you, but you really didn’t give him much of a choice. “Do you want to tell me why you ran away from the castle?” Minho asks suddenly, breaking the tempered silence between you. “You already know the answer to that,” you respond, crossing your own arms now. 

“Is marrying Sir Jin really so bad?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Yes, obviously. I don’t want to. Not that you or my father care about me or anything I think.” Minho’s brow furrows, the frown on his face growing. “Princess, you know that’s not true. I do care about you.” “Do you? I haven’t been able to tell in the slightest,” you counter a bit harshly, “and you could help me if you wanted to, you know. I’d be fine out there if I was with you.”

Okay, maybe you’re not being fair to Minho right now. You do know he cares, but realistically, what is he supposed to do? If he disobeyed your fathers orders, he’d be lucky if his only punishment was a swift death. He was assigned to you because your father trusts him to do the right thing and follow orders dutifully, a trust that is usually not misplaced. But he has to admit, the more and more time he spends with you, the more he feels for you. 

Minho never knew your father, the king, to be an unreasonable or cruel man, but in your eyes, he might as well be the devil himself. And maybe he is cruel- because how do you strip someone of their freedom and choices for your own gain, and not see the harm it causes, the wrong in it? You are more than a pawn, more than a subject, more than his daughter- you are a person. A person with thoughts, feelings, and opinions as real as any mans, who did not deserve to be treated lesser than for the simple crime of being born a girl. 

But what is Minho if not an upholder of the status quo? He was just a single man, and even if he recognized how unfairly you were treated in comparison to the golden child that was your elder brother, what was he supposed to do? He always performed his tasks dutifully and without question, and it wasn’t until he met you that he began to struggle with what he should do, and what he wants to do.

And maybe he could get you out of this town, help you live a quiet, modest life somewhere new, away from the watchful eye of your father. Where he could be your protector, same as now, but without the guilt, burden, or threats. You know you shouldn’t take your frustrations about your life out on Minho, but he’s really all you have. You trust him with your life, and he’s shown you multiple times that he cares about you beyond the duty he has to you, or to your father. He's your only confidant, the only person in the world you can rely on. 

Your eyes linger on the scar across his nose- he got it protecting you, the other man’s sword barely missing his eyes and cutting just across his face, and it was only one of many scars he obtained in his service to you. He’d pick you up and run with you in his arms when you were injured, he’d fight off attackers without breaking a sweat, sustain injury after injury all to make sure you were safe. You’d watch his back, always stunned and mesmerized at the ease at which he cut down your enemies, as if they were nothing but paper. 

When he’d turn back to you, breathing heavy and sweat only just starting to trickle on his brow, his eyes would turn from the harshest winter chill to the gentle warmth of a spring morning. He was quiet, stern, but his care ran far deeper than one would think just by looking at him, and all you had to do to see the true depth of his feelings was look in his eyes. So you knew it was unfair to accuse him of not caring about you, to expect him to go above and beyond for you, to ask that he go against your father to give you what you want, but you were just so sad, frustrated, angry, that you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Maybe you’ll grow to love him if you give him a chance,” Minho suggests; you both know that’s never going to happen, but what else can he say? He never married, and had no children, dedicated to his duty as he was; he had no real advice to offer someone when it came to love, romance, and the like, but he imagined it wasn’t impossible to fall in love if you just met Sir Jin with an open mind.

But as stated, that’s never going to happen. You’re stubborn to a fault, and once you’ve decided something, there’s no changing it. The best Minho can ever manage to do is get you to reconsider, but even then, you’re still likely to go about things the way you originally wanted to, with no regard for consequences or keeping up appearances. You’re a fiery woman, there was no doubt about it, and you don’t let go of things easily. 

“The mere thought of giving that man all my firsts makes me sick, it’s vile,” you scrunch up your nose, making your distaste for the man very clear. Minho doesn’t even think you’ve actually met the man yet, but you’ve already decided you hate him, that you don’t want to marry him, and so you’ll be firmly stuck in your opinion no matter what anyone says. 

“Maybe this isn’t advice I should be giving you, but.. You don’t necessarily have to. To give him your firsts, or love him. Find someone you do love, even if you have to keep it a secret, and hold him with all you’ve got. It still wouldn’t be ideal, of course, but.. Well, it’d be something, at least.” Really, Minho is supposed to encourage you to be an obedient daughter and listen to your father without question, but he knows you well enough to know that’s a fool's errand. 

You’re never going to listen, never going to be obedient, never going to stop being opinionated. So what’s the next, most realistic piece of advice he can give? Lie, of course. Make your father and inevitable husband believe you’re a good, obedient wife and daughter, and then go live the life you really want behind their backs. It's dishonest as all hell, and there would be consequences if you got caught, but if you’re going to be miserable no matter what you do, you might as well try, right? It’s what Minho would do if he were you, anyways. 

“What about you?” you ask and Minho raises a brow in question. “What about me?” he asks, and what you respond with makes him feel like the air has been punched out of his lungs. “What if I gave my firsts to you?” Did he hear you right? There must be some mistake with his ears, there’s absolutely no way you said what he thinks you did. “You.. what?” Surely you can’t be serious about this. You’re the princess, and he’s just the man who happens to be your guard, a man who is your fathers age at that. 

But the way you look at him, he can tell you’re not joking in the slightest. “Princess, I couldn’t possibly accept that,” Minho says sternly, his arms no longer crossed but instead resting on the arms of the chair, hands beginning to grip tightly so he can ground himself and try to make sense of this insane situation. “Why not? I’d be happier if I gave it to someone like you. I trust you,” you say so nonchalantly it makes his head reel. What the fuck is happening right now? 

Minho was the ideal man, at least in your opinion. He was handsome, mature, realistic and practical, knew how to reel you in without disregarding the root of what you feel or being disrespectful to you. He never dismissed how you felt, made you feel over emotional or like a fool who overreacts; he’d ask you to see reason, sure, urge you to think more before acting, but he never, never made you feel like your feelings were invalid. And he genuinely cared about you, and you liked him, were attracted to him, so if the opportunity presented itself then.. Why not take the chance? 

Fuck. Minho was absolutely fucked. You were just freshly 20 when Minho first met you and became your guard, and hard as he tried to never see you beyond the platonic, he’s always viewed you as an attractive young woman. He liked your fiery spirit, liked how you had the bravery and gall to challenge authority, a skill that in recent months he felt he was sorely lacking. Your attitude was refreshing, and despite your circumstances, you never acted like a damsel in need of his help. 

In a different life, in another world, maybe you two could have met as equals, not painfully stuck to the rules of an unfair, unforgiving reality. You’d be each other's foil, you, the impassioned dreamer with as many thoughts and ideas as there were stars in the sky, and he the realist, who didn’t dim your light but tempered it into a steady, sustainable flame. You’d take him out on adventures, out of the strict box of his comfort zone, and he’d ground you more firmly to reality, never discouraging your dreams but making sure you took the necessary steps in the right way, responsibly, matching one another perfectly, complementary and meant for each other. 

But that’s not your reality, and you both know it. There would never be any coming back from this if you go through with it, and there’s no ideal, happy future for you two to share. “I’m not so disillusioned to think this would be anything other than sex for you,” you continue, and he swallows, mind still racing impossibly, “but it’d be much more meaningful for me with you than some bastard I don’t like in the slightest.” 

You’re wrong. So wrong, and you don’t even know it. It would never be “just sex” with you. You mean much, much more to him than you even realize. “You won’t regret asking a man like me? There’d be no taking it back once it’s done,” Minho can’t help but ask, rationality and reason desperately trying to gain control. 

Despite what your father may believe, you’re a grown woman capable of making your own decisions. And this is a decision you make with full knowledge of what it means for you, more than willing to accept whatever consequences may arise for committing such a sin. In an ideal world, you’d be allowed to love who you wish, live where you wish, do what you wish. 

But this isn’t an ideal world, and if there is only one thing you can ever be granted in this life that feels as if it isn’t even your own, it would be this- to have one night, just one night, where you can be the person you want to be, with Minho by your side. “You’re free to reject me if you’re not attracted to me, but.. My only regret would have been not trying. So I ask, are you not attracted to me?” 

He looks you over carefully, grip on the armrests tightening. Admitting that he’s attracted to you may as well be a death sentence. But he can’t lie to you, completely at your mercy. Fuck the king, it’s you he’s really loyal to. All he’s ever done, all he ever will do, it’s always for you. He’s always tried to act in your best interest, to do the right thing, to keep you safe and protected. But does keeping you safe even matter if you’re miserable? 

“I am,” Minho swallows, answering honestly despite his better judgment, “You have no idea how attracted to you I am.” “So why hesitate?” you ask, fingers trail down your lap, over your knees, to where the very bottom of your dress lies. He watches you, eyes darting from your hands back to your face. You’re watching him too, carefully, considering his every reaction before you make your next move, impressively calculated. 

You take the hem of your dress in your hands, pulling it up leisurely, getting it halfway up your thighs, and Minho is in front of you in an instant, his hands grabbing your wrists and stopping you from lifting it any further. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Princess,” he breathes, voice low and strained; he can’t lose control of his desires, but fuck, you’re making it so hard. You look up at him, meeting his gaze with the same fiery determination you always have, but there’s more there than just that this time. Desire, want, need- all for him.

Fuck it. He’s going to get burned, but maybe it’s worth it. You’ll be his funeral pyre, engulfing him in your flame until all that remains are the ashes of the man he was supposed to be. And what a beautiful way to end his life it will be, lost between your thighs, feeling your nails dig and claw at his skin. He lets go of your wrists, one of his hands coming to cup your face, thumb tracing over your bottom lip. 

“Has anyone ever kissed you, Princess?” he asks and you give a slight shake of the head, breathing a soft “No..” He hums, and there’s a twisted sort of pleasure he derives from knowing he’ll be your first in every conceivable way. You’re not “innocent,” he knows you’re not, but there’s something about being your first kiss, your first cock, your first everything that makes him crazy. 

“And you want me to be the first one to kiss you?” he follows up with another question, corners of his mouth threatening to twist into a smile when you nod, a soft, honest “yes” leaving your lips effortlessly. He leans down towards you, keeping your head tilted up so he can easily meet your lips. He does so softly, treating you with care. His lips are softer than you expected, and the feeling of them against your own fills you with butterflies. 

He carefully tilts you back, and you let your body fall back onto the mattress, head hitting the surprisingly soft pillows. Minho crawls over you, spreading your legs apart just enough to get between them, your dress now hiked all the way up your thighs. He’s hovering over you, looking down at you with so much love and lust and that it leaves you speechless. “I’ll need you to listen to me tonight. Can you do that for me?” he asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw, under your ear, your neck. 

You can, because it’s Minho. He’d never hurt you, never try to control you, never make you feel lesser than. So you can listen to him, because you trust him with your care; he’ll take good care of you, you know he will. He smiles when you nod, and you see him smile so rarely that it makes your heart skip a beat; his role always requires him to be so stern and straight faced, that seeing him smile down at you like this is enough to melt you into a puddle. 

“You’re a good girl when you want to be, hmm?” he hums against your neck, resuming his trail of kisses against your skin, and you can’t explain why, but the words and tone he says them in makes your stomach flip. If you were in a different world, and didn’t have to return home to the castle tomorrow, he’d take his time marking your neck, filling it with pretty shades of blue, purple, and red, sinking his teeth into your soft, supple skin.

He just knows you’d look so pretty like that, and the way you react when his breath tickles your skin and his lips linger, tells him you’d like it too. His fingers trail down your body, finding the hem of your dress and pulling it up over your chest. You lift your back off the bed when he separates from your neck, pulling your dress off the rest of the way and discarding it to the floor. He kisses you as he fiddles with the straps of your bra, effortlessly unhooking it in the back and pulling it down your arms and off your body. 

He may have never married, but he’s no stranger to being with and pleasuring women. And he’ll make sure he makes this a night you’ll always remember for all the right reasons. Capturing your lips in another kiss, his hands take in your now bare breasts, gently kneading and squeezing. You try to squeeze your legs together, but his place between your thighs stops the act from happening, and he chuckles against your lips when he realizes what you’re doing. 

“Be patient, Princess, I’ll take good care of you,” he whispers before kissing you again, and you let out a small whine, not knowing exactly what you want but knowing you want something. You gasp when he takes your nipples between your fingers and pinches them, not too hard of course, but enough to give him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your body shudders, you feel dizzy with pleasure and excitement, and the feeling of his tongue circling yours is impossibly intoxicating. 

One of his hands travels down, over your stomach, coming between your bodies to feel your heat over your panties. He’s barely even begun and you’re already soaking the fabric, your eager anticipation for more of his touch palpable beyond all else. He nips at your bottom lip, gently tugging it between his teeth before soothing the sting with kitten licks, his hand slipping inside your panties to feel how slick you’ve gotten directly. 

Your body jolts when his fingers run between your folds, and he barely has to move them at all to get his fingers completely coated in your juices. He pulls back to look at you, taking in the sight of your flushed face and swollen lips, pretty and perfect. You’re panting, breathless, overwhelmed in the best way possible. You keen when his fingers rub over your clit in circles, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you lift your head from the pillows to watch. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks, suppressing a grin when you whine and quickly nod your head. “Want more, want you,” you mutter, the most timid you’ve ever been in regards to a man. He coos, giving you a sweet kiss as he continues his stimulation to your sensitive spot. “Remember what I said? Patience, Princess, you’ll get what you want. We can’t rush and have you getting hurt, can we?” 

You pout as you concede, and God, he finds that so cute; he’s never seen you actually act shy and pouty before, and it makes him want to give you the entire world. He’ll give you everything you want, anything you ask for, but he’ll have to remember to tease you first so he can see that cute expression on your face before he gives in to your whims. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ready for my cock, so just be a good girl and follow my lead until then. You can do that for me easily, can’t you?”

Another shy nod, another adorable flushed look that makes his cock throb in his trousers. It was a little intimidating for you, knowing how experienced Minho must be due to his age, and feeling like you must fall short in comparison to other women, women who knew what they were doing, but really, that was just your own insecurity talking. He didn’t mind at all that you were inexperienced; in fact, it excited him for reasons he didn’t entirely understand. 

Maybe it was the knowledge that he was the first to touch your skin, or maybe that someone as determined and fiery as you are is allowing yourself to concede control, to let him be in charge of your pleasure, trusting him to bring you to utmost bliss. What bigger display of trust could you ever show him? Your glassy, pleading eyes, begging him for more but still waiting for it just as he asked- you’re too good for him. He’s going to ruin you. 

He takes his fingers away, and you have to physically stop yourself from whining at the lack of contact, lest he remind you again about “being patient.” “Open your mouth for me,” Minho requests, and though you are a bit confused, you do as he asks immediately, obeying without question. Fuck, that’s hot; the image of you, mouth open, tongue slightly sticking out and waiting to receive whatever he gives you is something he never wants to forget. 

Minho slides two of his fingers into your mouth, instructing you to lick, to get his fingers nice and wet. Truthfully, you were more than lubricated enough to take his fingers without this step, but he couldn’t resist the urge to see you this way. He pushes his fingers in your mouth down to the knuckle, and you persist with coating them in your saliva even as you gag and tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

He showers you with praise, slipping his fingers out of your mouth when he feels satisfied with the work you’ve done on them, kissing your cheeks, feeling the heat of your face on his lips. Slipping his hand back inside your panties, he presses the tips of his wet fingers to your hole, and you instinctively suck in a breath, body unconsciously tensing from the anticipation. “You have to relax, Princess, it won’t feel good if you’re tense,” he explains sweetly, shaking his head when you mutter a soft apology. 

“Don’t be sorry, not for that. Just focus on me, hmm? On this,” he whispers, his lips lingering on yours in a deep, impassioned kiss. His fingers stay completely still until he feels your body start to release its tension, heeding his advice to focus more on his kisses than the motion of his fingers. He keeps kissing you even as the first of his fingers finally starts to push inside you, and you moan into his mouth, hot pleasure licking your skin. 

He moves his finger in and out slowly, making sure you’re well adjusted before he pushes in another one, hooking his fingers to find that delicious sweet spot he knows will have you crying his name in no time. You gasp loudly when he finds it, your hands twisting the sheets beneath you between your fingers, your entire body trembling. It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, and when he picks up his pace, hitting your spot over and over as he brings his thumb to your clit, you know you won’t last long at all.

“M-Minho, I’m- I’m gonna-” you try to warn him, but the words die in your throat, the pleasure too overwhelming to continue to try and form a sentence. He simply hums, continuing his motions until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, sharp, shuddery gasps and moans tumbling from your lips as your orgasm takes you. “That’s it, just let go, just like that, I’ve got you,” he praises, pressing kisses to your hot skin, helping you ride out your high.

Before you can even fully recollect your breath and get your racing heart back under control, he’s pushing a third finger inside, the trembling in your body intensifying from the addition. “You need more to get ready for me,” he tells you, and in your fucked out state all you can do is nod, taking his word as gospel truth, “need to stretch you good to make sure my cock fits.” All you can do is lay there and take the onslaught of pleasure, unable to think of about anything other than how full and good his fingers make you feel. 

You don’t even register that he’s moved your down your body and tugged your panties to the side until his tongue is meeting your clit, swirling around it in expertly practiced circles, making you desperately cry out his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging harshly as your hips buck up to keep feeling the delicious sensation his tongue provides you. He flattens his tongue and lets you grind against it as you want, the motions of his fingers not stuttering or ceasing despite the movement of your hips. 

You feel the familiar heat pooling your stomach, another orgasm approaching quickly, the sounds you release turning into desperate whines and whimpers as you chase the feeling. It only takes a few more rolls of your hips and thrusts of his fingers to have you releasing all over his face, your juices gushing around his fingers. He sits up and pulls his fingers out when your body falls limp, chest heaving and ears ringing as you try to recover from the mind-blowing experience you just had. 

Your eyes are closed, and you can feel his weight shift, can hear the soft clink of his belt unbuckling, followed by the rustling of clothes. You open your eyes to see Minho’s cock is now out, his hand lazily pumping it and spreading the pre-cum that accumulated and dripped over his time focusing on you. You reach a hand out to touch it, to replace his hand with your own, but he grabs your hand before you can, instead making you intertwine your fingers. 

“Tonight’s all about you, Princess. Don’t worry about taking care of me,” he says, kissing the back of your hand and then holding it down right above your head; you’re not quite pinned, easily able to snake your hand out of his hold if you wanted to, but you have to admit, you like the feeling of his hand keeping yours held down. He rubs his cock between your folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, though you didn’t miss the subtle smirk on his face when you whined from the feeling of his tip rubbing against your clit.

“Squeeze my hand if you need to,” Minho tells you before taking your free hand and bringing it up to his shoulder, “and hold onto me.” Your heart squeezes in your chest; the hidden romantic in you yearns to tell him you love him, to thank him for taking such good care of you, to express how you never want this night to end, but you know that would be a mistake. Neither of you can afford to let your emotions spill out, so you swallow them down the best you can, deciding to just live in this moment, to experience it for all that it is and all that it means for you.

The initial push is slow, and thanks to his diligent preparation, there is little physical pain or discomfort you experience from the stretch of his cock. A slight sting, sure, but nothing you can’t easily handle, and it’s barely even recognizable when compared to the pleasant fullness you feel. So when you squeeze his hand, and your eyes well with tears, it’s not because you are pained; it’s because you finally have something you want, a happiness you thought would forever elude you.

He takes his free hand and wipes away the tears from your eyes, a soft look of concern on his face. “Hurts?” he asks, but you shake your head quickly. “Feels good, I just.. I..” you struggle with the words, knowing you can’t express how you actually feel even if you felt you could. “I know. You don’t have to say it, I know,” Minho speaks to you softly, and the kiss he gives you very nearly makes you sob.

There’s still a few inches left before he’s fully inside you, and he pushes the remainder in slowly as he continues to kiss you, his free hand now rubbing soothing circles on your hip with his thumb. Minho does well at maintaining composure, staying firmly in control of himself and his body despite the way your walls squeeze and suck him in, despite the way you whimper when you feel him throb, or cry out against his lips when his tip kisses your deepest spots.

“That’s a good girl, taking all I give you, doing so well,” he praises you some more, and you love when he tells you how good you’re doing if the way you clench around him is any indicator. “Fuck, Princess-” he groans when he finally starts to move, pulling out and pressing back in much more slowly than he normally would, but the wet friction you provide him is delicious. “Minho, I-” you start, interrupted by a sharp gasp when he finds your sweet spot with his cock.

He looks at you as he stills his hips, patiently waiting for you to continue in case what you have to say is important, or a request for him to stop. You swallow, face heating up but determined to get out what you want to say. “J-Just this once, I don’t want to be the princess. Call me by name, please-” Oh, that’s what you want? He can do that, easily; he’s already groaned your name countless times in the privacy of his room, stroking his cock to the thought of you.

The sound of your name falling from his lips as he resumes the thrust of his hips has you clenching hard, stars erupting in your vision as he picks up his pace, beginning to quickly and mercilessly hit your spot, over and over again. He takes one of your legs and props it up over his shoulder, allowing more of his cock to fill you up, the creaking of the bed and the sound of skin slapping beginning to overpower the noise from downstairs.

Taking his other hand away from yours, you’ll have to forgive him, he licks his fingers and then brings them to your clit, wanting nothing more than to see and feel you release on his cock. It only takes a few more thrusts and circles from his fingers to have you crying out his name as you cum, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as your body shakes and legs tremble. But Minho hasn’t cum yet, so he’s not quite done with you, not that you mind in the slightest; you’ll let him chase his pleasure as long as he wishes, even if it leaves you a drooling, fucked out mess in the end.

He pulls out of you, just long enough to sit against the headboard, and then he’s pulling you on top of him, guiding you to sink back down on his cock and sit fully in his lap. The new position has you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, Minho guiding the movement of your hips with his hands as he thrusts up into you. He’s quite literally doing all the work, but that’s perfectly fine; this night is supposed to be about you, after all, and he doesn’t want you to lift a pretty little finger. Just let him use you a little until he cums, that’s all he needs.

You’re panting against his neck, head laid on his shoulder and nails digging into the skin of his back beneath his shoulder blades. The sting of your nails in his skin is just how he imagined it to be, and his head is falling back against the headboard, low grunts and groans of your name leaving freely as his cock throbs and twitches, getting closer and closer to his release. He uses one of his hands to grab your face and lift it up to his, crashing his lips to yours in a desperate, impassioned display of love and lust.

A few more snaps of his hips and you feel his cum spurting inside you in long, thick ropes, the sensation sending you forward into yet another orgasm of your own, your desperate sounds muffled only by Minho’s mouth on yours. Your body collapses against his when the moment slows to a stop, both of your chests heaving and breaths heavy as you lie against him, his arms wrapped around you snuggly and keeping you upright against his chest. 

You can hear the quick, erratic beating of his heart as he catches his breath, looking up at him to see his eyes closed and sweat trailing down his brow towards his cheek. He looks beautiful like this, you think; you hope he thought the same of you. Even as his cock starts to soften, neither of you move, and though your legs protest and beg to be stretched out, you refuse to leave your spot on Minho’s lap.

“Are you alright, Princess?” he asks once he’s collected himself, pushing your hair from your face and wiping the sweat from your brow. “Mhm, just want to stay like this,” you reply, and Minho smiles softly, rubbing over your shoulders and down your back in a sweet gesture of comfort. You’re silent like this for some time, just simply enjoying the feeling of him, the sound of the crackling fire, the warmth he and this room provides you.

“Does my happiness really have to end here?” you can’t help but quietly ask, and Minho is quiet for a moment, carefully considering before he speaks. In a different world, in a different time, in a different place, maybe the two of you are meant to be. There’s comfort in imagining yourself there, truly happy with Minho, letting him care for you while not snuffing out the flame that is your pride, ambition, and spirit.

It’s not meant to be, you both know that to be true. To be with each other required great risk, sacrifice, hardship. But again he has to wonder, is being safe worth the cost of happiness? Would you even truly be “alive” if your every moment was spent miserably? He doesn’t want to see the very core of what makes you you be snuffed out by selfish, idiotic men and their expectations of what you should be.

You’re much younger than him, and it would be impossible for him to be there for you for the rest of your life, but he can be for the rest of his, at least. “Maybe not,” he answers, unsure of what the future holds for the two of you, but not entirely ready to give up so easily. He could accept his fate, accept that love is something out of his reach, but it’s your happiness on the line that makes him want to fight for it. 

There’s a lot he could lose by helping you escape this life you feel trapped in, but he’d rather see you happy than wasting your days away in the castle, subservient to a man you loathe. Your love isn’t meant to be, but that’s okay; he’ll help you all the same. He’s loyal to you, and only you, he’s decided- so if you make your future husband, your father, the entire kingdom your enemy, then they’ll be his enemy too. And it’ll all be worth it just to see you smile for a little bit longer.

#skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #skz smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #not me posting a fic again literally 4 days after my last one i am serious when i say i was possessed to write this #also not posting between the hours of 4-7am for once that is a win for me !! #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

[zeroeightzeroone]

homesick - han jisung

love collection

genre: comfort, angst? soft

pairings: fem!reader (infp) x idol!han jisung (istp)

warnings: none?

wc ~3.7k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

you miss your boyfriend–you miss him a lot.

how could you not?

all you have wanted to do for the past couple of weeks is throw your arms around jisung and hold him close. you want to keep your boyfriend so tightly against your chest that you're encapsulated by the warmth radiating off his body, the warmth that never fails to comfort you, resting your head against his chest to listen to how his heart beats in tandem with your own. you miss the physical closeness with jisung.

stray kids has been on tour since late april this year, and the last leg of the tour is expected to end early april next year. while that's quite a long time for the boys to be away, they'd be back in asia in late july and on a break until the tour kicks back up in early september. it's currently the beginning of july.

thankfully, you weren't taking any summer courses. through the grace of whatever higher power there is up there, you managed to convince your boss to let you work remotely so you could join jisung and the boys for two weeks during the japanese leg of their tour back at the beginning of june.

you loved watching jisung perform. seeing him firsthand from the crowd, in his element when he's on stage, performing his art and perfecting his craft, makes your heart lurch; you fall for the man all over again, watching him up there. seeing it firsthand is completely different from watching videos of him–you can feel the energy radiating off him when he's up there.

at the end of those two weeks, you and the boys ended up in the same place: the airport. you were boarding a plane back to seoul, and they were boarding a plane to their first tour stop in america. due to the influx of reporters and fans waiting at narita international airport, your goodbyes to the boys and their staff had to be in the hotel, inside your rooms, hours before checkout time.

knock, knock, knock.

"come in!" you call whoever is on the other side of the door; if it's any of the boys, then they will be accompanied by jisung, who has the extra room key for your room.

you grunt in a squatting position as you move your luggage from laying on the ground, on its back, to standing upright on its wheels. you hear the keycard machine beep from the other side of the door in confirmation as you're hunched over, wheeling your luggage up against the wall before standing up straight and rubbing your palms against your jeans. you watch as the front door opens to reveal the eight boys, jisung in front, holding the keycard to your hotel room. behind them, the managers and some guards come into the room with them, but the bodyguards stay outside.

"y/n!" felix whines with a pout as he pushes forward, running to you and enveloping you in his arms, "fly safe, okay?"

you pat the freckled boy's back appreciatively as you nod.

"make sure you text ji when you land, okay?"

"i will, but you guys will still be in the air when he gets that message."

felix pulls away, his hands on your shoulders as he looks at you, "still, it's the thought that counts." you smile and giggle at felix, who moves aside for the next couple of members to say their goodbyes to you.

your exchanges with jeongin, minho and changbin are on the shorter side; brief hugs with jeongin and changbin, who thank you for coming to support them in concert, meanwhile minho gives you a half hug and pats your head as he bids you farewell, thanking you for taking two weeks out of the many months jisung will spend talking about how much he'll miss you.

meanwhile, hyunjin, chan and seungmin's hugs last a little longer when you're swayed around a little bit and told to be safe, get a lot of rest on the plane and not miss them too much. chan lets you know that if there is any other time you're going to be free when they're on tour, let them know, and they'll arrange everything for you–from the plane tickets to where you're staying–anything at all.

seungmin, the member you're closest to after your boyfriend, whispers in your ear quietly to ensure it's kept between the two of you: "i know you're going to ask me to take care of jisung for you, so don't worry about that. don't worry about hannie; we all got him."

the reassurance brings a smile to your face, and your grip on seungmin gets tighter in appreciation. the boy sways your bodies back and forth, patting your back when you separate. when he pulls away, he steps aside to reveal your boyfriend standing there with a pout, his big, brown eyes glossy as tears build up at his waterline. you have to bite your lip to keep from sobbing.

you were already feeling on the verge of tears when felix came rushing in and pulled you into a hug. chan's words about arranging anything and everything if you're free, then seungmin assuring you that they'll look out for your boyfriend while on tour and now, here's your boyfriend, your hannie, your jisung, looking at you with teary eyes.

you open your arms and jisung runs into them, prompting you to take a step back at the sudden impact, but jisung's tight grip around your waist protects you from any chance of falling backward. jisung buries his face in the crook of your neck while your arms are wrapped around his neck, your chin resting on his shoulder as your eyes are squeezed shut. your grip on each other is tight, knowing that once either of you lets go, the next time you'll be in each other's arms is in two months.

jisung lets a choked whimper slip out that he tries to hide with a cough. you smack his back gently, "ya!"

you clear your throat, trying your best to stay composed and stern as you utter the next words.

"if you cry, i'm going to cry too!" your voice cracks and trembles as you speak.

"i'm not crying," he denies. though his voice is muffled from his head buried in the crook of your neck, you can clearly hear that it's softer than usual, shaky, and uneasy.

you let out a pained laugh, "liar." the tears flow down your cheeks as you hold him even tighter.

"i'm not lying!" jisung continues to deny. he lifts his head up from your neck, and you stand there, still in each other's arms, looking at each other, "see."

what you see is how jisung's cheeks are flushed, wet with tears that probably fell and landed on the fabric of the hoodie you're wearing, his lashes clumped together with tears as he tries to keep his lips pursed together when they're trembling and threatening to go back to that pout. on the other hand, your tears are freely falling as you stare up at your boyfriend through your fluttering lids, mouth opening and closing as you breathe heavily through your pouted lips, cheeks also flushed and damp. you smack his chest.

"what?" he whines.

you open your mouth to laugh at him, but instead, a sob comes out. you fall back into his arms and bury your face into his chest as you cry.

"look who's crying now," jisung retorts as his arms move around your body again, holding you close. one hand rests on the small of your back while the other caresses your hair.

"yeah, the both of you," minho teases and jisung glares at the boy, but the older one just smiles back.

the rest of the boys watch the exchange between you and jisung with a slight ache in their chests as they remember how hard it was to say goodbye to their friends and family before leaving. chan looks around and he gathers everyone to leave, wanting to give you and jisung a minute alone to say your goodbyes before the driver takes you to the airport.

pulling away, jisung moves his hands to your face and brushes your hair back, some strands sticking to your skin because of tears as you hiccup. even when your hair is out of your face, he continues to stroke your hair back while the other hand is on your cheek, gently caressing the skin with the pad of his thumb. the two of you stare up at each other, sniffling.

"i love you," jisung whispers, his voice hoarse from crying.

you nod, sniffling and hiccuping in return, "i love you too."

jisung smiles down at you, "hey, i'll be back before you know it."

your eyelids flutter as you blink quickly, and your hands play with the back of the sweatshirt jisung is wearing.

"i'll text you everyday," he reminds, "i'll call you as much as i can, and as much our schedules and the time zones allow for."

you sigh shakily, "i'm gonna miss you so much."

"i'm going to miss you so much too, my love," jisung brushes your hair back again, "god, i wish i could just take you with me. two months away from you? that's too long."

you snicker, nodding in agreement, "i do too. but hey, i'll get to see so many videos of you taken by stay, doing your thing on stage."

your boyfriend smiles, gazing down at you lovingly.

"i'm so proud of you. look at you," you sigh, lips curled up in a smile, "my boyfriend is going on a world tour."

"do you know what that means?" you tilt your head in confusion, "souvenirs from every stop that remind me of you!"

since he left, both of you have been sending texts daily and video calls whenever your schedules permit it and when the time zones line up enough so it isn't too early or too late for either of you.

sometimes your calls only prompt you to miss jisung even more, wishing he was next to you and that his voice wasn't just coming through a device while he's on the other side of the world, but the distance also means you continue to long for the day jisung comes home. you know his parents long for that day as well, his mother sending you texts every couple of days asking when you're free so you can go out together. as jisung likes to put it–spending time with her future daughter-in-law.

however, as the number of days away from jisung increases, the number of days before jisung returns also decreases. with that in mind, you try to stay positive and look forward to the day he comes home.

now that the boys are in america, they've been quite busy rehearsing, checking and then rechecking their formations and any technical details that could go wrong during the concerts, the process repeating at each venue as they sync up their equipment with the new venues. their team organizing and making sure everything is okay with the venue and other organizers. as a result, jisung has been too busy to call late at night as he passes out the moment he's in his hotel room from the venue, then waking up a couple hours later to hop on a flight to the next destination.

he sends you texts here and there throughout his day, sending random photos of himself and the members during rehearsals or before and after the show. on jisung's end, he sent a text over when he landed early in the morning, saying he could probably hop on a call quickly when he gets to the hotel, seeing as they're going to be in inglewood for a little over a week for two shows instead of one. you were about to leave work when the message came through. going home for the evening when the message reminded you of your phone call with jisung's mother.

"hello, eomeonim (mother-in-law)," you greet when the line connects.

"y/n, myeoneuri (daughter-in-law)," she speaks into the phone, her tone sweet as usual. she doesn't say anything for a moment before speaking, "is this a bad time? you don't sound like you're at home?"

"ah, sorry eomeonim," you apologize, "i just got off the bus, but i'm on the way home now. but don't worry, i can talk if you need me."

"ah okay, i won't keep you too long then, myeoneuri," she assures before continuing, "have you spoken to jisung on the phone recently?"

you hum as you think, "I think it's been a couple of days since our last phone call; why? is he okay?"

you hear jisung's mother sigh on the other end of the line, "i'm a little worried, if i'm honest," you hum in acknowledgment and she continues, "he sounded quite down on our phone call yesterday and the day before. he told me not to worry when i asked… i know this might be a lot, but would you mind talking to him? if it's you, he'll open up more–at least, he'll have talked about what's on his mind."

"yeah, yeah, of course," you agree, "i'll see if we can call tonight, and i'll check up on him, see how he's doing, eomeonim. don't worry too much, i'm sure ji is okay!"

she chuckles on the other end, "ah, you sound just like him, y/n. don't tell him i sent you!"

you laugh in response to her rushed addition at the end of her statement: "i won't say anything," she sighs in relief, "was there anything else you were curious about?"

she hums, "nothing else, thank you so much, myeoneuri. i'll see you on the weekend, okay? come over whenever you want! the door is always open for you!"

your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you smile, "thank you, i'll see you in a couple of days. bye eomeonim!"

"goodbye, myeoneuri! get home safely. i love you," she bids her farewells, which you exchange right back with her before she hangs up the call.

thinking back to that conversation, you wonder what worried jisung's mother about him; was it how he spoke? his tone? the words he used? was he quite active in the conversation, or did he seem more passive? you wonder what exactly she meant by jisung sounding quite down, but you guess you'll figure it out when he calls you in the morning.

it's around eight in the morning when your phone rings from the bedside table. yunjin should already be awake and ready for work, so the ringer volume doesn't wake anyone up except you. you roll around, feeling around the bedside table for the device. you accept his call quickly and place the phone to your ear.

a deep yawn leaves your lips before you say, "ji baby?"

you hear him hum in acknowledgment on the other end before he replies, "yeah, baby, it's me." a sleepy smile forms on your lips at the sound of his voice. " did I wake you?"

you groan softly as you flick the lamp on, the sudden brightness causing you to squint, "yes but i don't mind. i just wanna hear your voice. are you back at the hotel now?"

"yeah, we got back a while ago. i just wanted to be ready for bed before calling; this way i can fall asleep while you're on the line," jisung explains, and you feel your cheeks heat up at his sentiments.

he continues to talk about what they did today. you're gradually more awake and more attentive as the minutes pass, so eventually, you realize what jisung's mother was referring to when it sounded like he's been down. jisung is speaking monotone, his voice softer, and when he speaks, it sounds like his mind is elsewhere.

when he's finished, you decide to segway into that conversation, "how are you feeling?"

he pauses for a moment, taken aback before he shrugs, "i'm tired, it's been a long day of rehearsal. what about you? how are you feeling?"

"i'm doing good, i'm hearing your voice, so i'm doing great," you answer quickly before he tries to shift the conversation to you, "are you physically tired or?"

jisung is lying in bed as he speaks to you, looking up at the ceiling and thinking of his replies, "yeah. dancing and all."

"emotionally?"

"emotionally?" he repeats to which you confirm, "i mean… i'm okay–better now since i'm hearing your voice after a couple of days… it's been a busy last couple of days."

you nod, running a hand through your tangled hair as you listen to jisung on the other end. his tone is still distracted as his words graze over how he's feeling, avoiding delving deeper into it. realizing that maybe he isn't ready to delve deeper into his emotions, you allow him to shift the conversation to your life and what you've been up to while he's been on tour–asking you how work has been and if anything new has occurred. you answer jisung honestly; there is nothing new at work as it's the same job you've had since getting into university; the only new events would be the lunch you have on the weekend with jisung's mother, aunt and grandmother.

the latter part of your updates brings a smile to jisung's lips, his heart warming at the thought of the most important women in his life spending quality time together. but at the same time, hearing your updates about your life back at home, no matter how small you think they are or if they're the same things that always happen, has jisung's chest aching in a completely different way.

"ji?" you call, not hearing anything coming from his end, "did you fall asleep?" you pause to listen, to survey whether or not you hear soft snores or heavy breathing that indicate that he is indeed asleep.

instead, jisung responds after a couple of moments, "i'm still here. i'm awake."

"are you okay?" you wonder, "if you're tired then i can go–"

"no, don't go," he quickly interrupts, "sorry."

"don't apologize, i just wanna make sure you're okay," you reassure, and you hear him hum in acknowledgment.

"i miss you," he declares softly, his voice solemn as he speaks.

"i miss you too, ji," you sigh, instinctively clutching the pillow closer to your chest.

the boy on the other end ponders for a moment before continuing, "i miss you a lot. i don't really know how to explain it," jisung blinks up at the ceiling, "i miss you all the time, but when we get back to the hotel or when i'm not performing, i miss you even more."

jisung's eyebrows knit in frustration as he continues to explain himself.

"i love being on stage, i love performing," he states, "i can't explain how i feel when i'm performing either, but… there's a feeling of contentment or fullness? i don't know… i just know i love to be up there. but…"

"but?" you encourage him to continue as his words trail off.

"but when i get back to the hotel, or when it's all over, i feel tired: the adrenaline doesn't last as long as it usually does. but even though i'm tired, it's hard to fall asleep."

you aren't sure where to place jisung's words, unsure if you've ever felt the way he's been feeling lately, uncertain if you can relate, but at the least, you want to understand and reassure him that you're there.

"there's a feeling of emptiness that kinda just sits there when i'm not on stage," his voice is softer when he says the word 'emptiness' like it's a fragile word, one he's unsure of, "i wasn't sure what it was before but listening to you talk started to help me realize what caused the emptiness."

"something i said helped you realize?" you repeat for clarification.

"yeah, listening to you talk about home, work, the local cafes, the conversations you have with my mom–just everything about your life at home," jisung lists, "i'm feeling homesick."

your lips part in awe when the last word leaves his mouth, the singular word allowing you to reconceptualize what he said previously and gain a greater understanding.

"i tried my best to distract myself and rehearse more to combat those feelings of emptiness but nothing seemed to work; it just stuck there. listening to you helped combat some of my homesickness but…"

"but it's still there," you finish his sentence, and he agrees with a sigh.

"i love being onstage, i feel so alive when i'm up there," now, when jisung speaks, his tone is clearer, and his thoughts are clearer, the way he's speaking signalling that instead of being lost in his own thoughts he's got both feet on the ground and he's working through them, "but i miss home so much. god… i miss you so damn much."

you smile sadly when you hear him sniffle.

"i miss my bed at the dorms, the air fryer at the dorms that we don't even use. i miss the smell of your laundry detergent and shampoo, i miss being in your arms, and you playing with my hair. i miss being at home."

jisung cries softly as he speaks, sniffling and continuing to list off the things that he misses at home. it brings tears to your eyes; using your comforter to dab the tears off your face.

"hey…" you call into the phone, "would it help if i sent little voice messages throughout the day so you could hear my voice? i can send pictures of things you love here too? just a couple more weeks, and you'll be here, and i'll hold you so tightly you get sick of me."

"i'll never be sick of being in your arms," he remarks, "and if it isn't too much, i would love that, all of it." jisung smiles at your suggestions, appreciative of you and your ideas to help him combat his homesickness until he's back in seoul.

"i'll try my best."

"baby?" he coos, prompting a soft response from you, "do you think we can video call? i wanna see your face before i sleep. can you stay until i fall asleep?"

your cheeks heat up from your boyfriend's suggestion, and your heart feels giddy at seeing his face for a couple of minutes before he falls asleep. " of course, baby."

#hjs love collection #stray kids one shots #stray kids imagines #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #skz han fluff #skz han jisung fluff #skz han angst #skz jisung oneshot #skz jisung oneshots #skz jisung imagines #skz jisung imagine #skz jisung fluff #stray kids jisung one shots #stray kids jisung one shot #stray kids jisung imagines #stray kids jisung imagine #stray kids han imagine #stray kids hurt/comfort

[frenchkisstheabyss]

✶ Cellophane ✶

✶ Pairing: model!hyunjin x model!chubby!fem!reader, model!minho x model!chubby!fem!reader

✶ Genre: fluff, angst, suggestive

✶ Summary: After discovering that your lover's attending one of the most important events of your career with another woman, a friendly face appears to save the day and steal your heart in the process.

✶ Word Count: 3.1k-ish

✶ Warnings: Discussion of the reader's struggle as a chubby babe in the industry/her everyday life. Sex is referenced but no smut scenes. Drinking, a lil sprinkle of strong language, & I think that's all.

✶ A/N: I started this out with two parts in mind 🖤 part two here 🖤 but now it'll likely end up being three so, like, ya know thanks for coming along for the ride.

This should be one of the happiest days of your life. Only a handful of models your size have ever gotten the chance to walk the red carpet during Paris Fashion Week. It’s not that you haven’t earned it. You've worked your ass off for every contract you signed. Poured blood, sweat, and tears into this even when people said a girl like you could never make it.

Every bit of struggle you've endured has led to this moment. You should be popping bottles and screaming, “Fuck you!” to anyone who doubted you. Instead, you’re sitting in the back of a black SUV in your designer gown choking back tears behind tinted windows. 

The lights of a hundred cameras flash. Miniature supernovas bursting against the night sky. A bodyguard exits on the passenger’s side, a muscular man dressed in a nicely tailored black suit, and rounds the car to open your door. With shaky hands and weakened knees you try the breathing exercises your stylist taught you.

Place one hand on your belly. Inhale for 7 seconds. Exhale for 8. But you can’t bring yourself to do it. To let that breath out would be to set free everything you’ve been keeping inside. You can’t do it anymore. It’s too much to pretend that this doesn’t hurt.

Silently cursing Hyujin’s name you exhale for 1…2…3 and you’re right back to the morning when everything fell apart. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whisper, afraid to wake the sun up any more than it already has. Hyunjin wraps an arm around you, holding you close to him beneath the blankets of a bed he’s made love to you in countless times this weekend. He leans into your neck, committing your scent to memory, his fingers caressing the softness of your love handles. “Like what?” 

No one’s ever looked at you the way he does. Hyunjin’s obsessed with your beauty, fascinated by the elegance of your features. He strokes your cheek, his gaze laced with desire, and plants a trail of kisses up your throat. You inhale sharply at the little nibbles he sneaks in between, the air that fills your lungs somehow fresher when he’s around.

His hands trace the rise and fall of your hips, taking sensual handfuls of your plush. Your lips part and his mouth is at yours, sipping your dulcet moans like wine. He shifts his weight, preparing to turn you over when—

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Your phone vibrates on the bedside table, sending tremors through the porcelain tea cup beside it.

“Ssh, no. Ignore it,” Hyunjin begs, climbing on top of you. A curtain of dark hair falls around you tickling your cheeks. He’s all you can see. All you can feel. Your phone quiets for a brief moment before it sounds once more, the buzzing seemingly more aggressive this time. “Ugh, what do you want?” you groan, snatching it from the table.

Seeing your manager's name, you click to open the thread of texts and immediately wish that you hadn't. Being with Hyunjin has been like a dream but with every word you read, you're beginning to wake up. You’re being dragged back to the real world kicking and screaming. It can’t be true.

“Hyunjin, who—um,” you say, your voice already trembling, “Who is this?” Handing him your phone, you slip out of bed and throw on your robe. Hyunjin sits up, that ethereal glow draining from his face when he’s confronted by what’s on the screen. An article announcing his date to Paris Fashion Week, a doe-eyed blonde rocking a certified 00 couture dress who most certainly isn’t you.

You wait for him to say something—anything—to stop your heart from breaking. He rakes his fingers through his hair, nervously chewing at the inside of his cheek. “I was going to tell you—” “Oh, you were?” you snap, snatching your phone back, “When? The week of? The night of?” “I was going to tell you once I figured things out! This isn’t as easy as you think it is! My agency, they have this idea of who they want me to be with and—”

He doesn’t need to finish his sentence. You already know what he’s about to say. Some variation of what you’ve heard every day in this industry. “And it’s just not me, right? Good enough to be the fat girl you fuck in secret but god forbid anyone sees you with me.” You laugh to keep from crying but tears rush down your cheeks anyway. Hyunjin jumps to his feet, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and rushing to your side.

Hearing you say those things. Seeing you cry. Knowing it’s because of him. It kills him. “Don’t talk like that. I don’t think that way about you. You know that.” He grabs you by the wrist, attempting to bring you into his arms but you push him away. “Do I?” you ask, storming off to the bathroom uninterested in his answer. 

Locking the door behind you, you slump to the floor and cry into your soft cotton sleeves. The dream is over, Hyunjin’s pleas for you to open up drowned out to nothing. You’re fully awake now. And it fucking sucks. 

Your mind springs back to the present where the bodyguard patiently holds the car door open for you. Minho reaches over to take your hand, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” He’s been such a sweetheart. Not minding your shyness when he picked you up from your hotel or the silence on the ride here. Having you in his presence does more for him than words ever could.

Long before Hyunjin entered the picture, you and Minho would hang out at the occasional after-party or industry event. You'd even developed a bit of a crush on him that you let go of after convincing yourself it was one-sided. The other models would always fawn over how attractive he was but they were much too scared to approach him. “I heard he’s mean” they’d say but they couldn't have been more wrong about him.

Over time you came to find that Minho was a sweet, charming man who was unhinged in the best way once he had a few drinks in his system. That’s how he asked you to be his date. Sipping one too many cocktails at a party neither of you wanted to be at, he’d mentioned that he didn’t have a date. Maybe since you didn’t either the two of you could go together.

“As friends, of course” he emphasized.

Of course.  

Minho gently turns your head to look at him, careful not to ruin your makeup. “We really don’t have to do this. We can go get pizza or something.” “Go get pizza?” you laugh, sniffling a bit, “You wanna skip the most exclusive event of the year to get pizza?” Minho stares blankly at you, not understanding why that’s such a wild idea. “I mean, if it’s with you, why not?”

There’s a fluttering in your chest that you can’t control. The rekindling of something that can’t happen. “Ma’am,” the bodyguard says, gesturing for you to step outside. Minho leans forward shooting him a cutthroat glare that demands a few more seconds with you. “If you get nervous just look at me. I won’t leave your side. I’ve got you” he promises and, without question, you believe him. 

You’ve walked a thousand runways in 6 inch heels but those first few steps outside of the car make you feel like a baby deer, your heels teetering between gravel. Minho takes your hand again, keeping you glued to his side as you maneuver through the crowd. The atmosphere is electric. Photographers battle each other for the perfect photo.

A sea of assistants and styling teams buzz around their clients, terrified of losing them in the crowd. In front of you, Minho's manager goes back and forth with yours. A low, passive aggressive exchange that no one else notices besides the two of you. 

“I should’ve never let him pick her up. You’re late.”

“We were there on time. She was late coming out. This is on you.”

“On me? Bullshit!”

“I think they’re into each other. What do you think?” Minho whispers into your ear, making you crack your first smile of the night. You place a hand on his forearm, mulling it over. “Enemies to lovers vibes for sure.” A casually dressed woman approaches your managers, rattling information off to them for a second before you’re being herded towards the red carpet.

There’s no time to pace yourself. No time to breathe in for 7 and out for 8. You’re thrown in front of the cameras, effortlessly switching into model mode. You know how to sell a garment, striking poses that prove you were born to rock this dress. Minho’s no slouch, looking absolutely regal. His bone structure, a sight to behold from every angle, is particularly striking from where you stand.

He brings an arm around your waist, resting his hand on your side, “I’m really happy you came.” You feel a slight squeeze at your hip as your eyes meet and that fluttering in your chest sneaks back up on you. “Me too.”

 

Being invited to Paris Fashion Week is an honor in its own right. But being invited to an afterparty? That’s when you know you’ve made it. You’re in the inner circle now. One of the chosen few. A god in comparison to the mere ants who’ll scurry to worship you at the next event. At least that’s the way everyone acts and Hyunjin finds it nauseating.

He’s not one of them but he has to pretend to be. He has to smile and nod while people drone on about the most shallow, egocentric bullshit he’s ever heard. At least that’s what he usually does. Tonight he doesn’t have the energy to mask his irritation. How can he when you’re cozying up at the bar with Minho like he’s not even here?

Hyunjin’s gone out of his way to get you to see him, desperate for you to notice that he’d come alone, but you've been glued to Minho. You're in your element, radiating light, and it’s not fair that another man gets to bask in it. In you.

Is this why you’ve been ignoring his texts? Why every call has gone straight to voicemail? Blinded by rage, infinite possibilities racing through his mind, he’s charging across the room before he can think better of what he’s about to do. Spotting Hyunjin before he can reach you, Minho sneaks away from the bar to cut him off halfway.

“Hyunjin,” Minho grins, picking an invisible piece of lint from the younger man’s shoulder, “You weren’t about to do something stupid, were you?” Hyunjin slaps his hand away, in no mood for pleasantries. “If by 'stupid' you mean punching you then yes, I was.” Minho closes the distance between them, his face turning cold. “You wanna hit me? Do it.”

Hyunjin’s right hand tightens into a fist, the temptation to crack him in the jaw intensifying. Minho leans in, the tips of their noses nearly brushing. “Do it” he challenges, “Fight for her for once.” A group of designers walk by, one in particular has her eye on Hyunjin. Sensing that he’s being watched, he loosens his fist and takes a step back.

“Yeah,” Minho sighs, “Just like I thought. Your little threat was cute though.”

“Why are you doing this?” Hyunjin asks, packing all of the anguish of a scream into a whisper.

That question is an insult to Minho’s intelligence. As if he doesn’t know what he did. Hyunjin never would’ve known you existed if he hadn’t caught Minho scrolling your Instagram one night. Minho was lovestruck, falling for you more and more with each post he saw. Hyunjin’s hatred for him at this moment is nothing compared to what Minho felt when he found out the two of you were together. 

“Why am I doing this?” he snaps, “Because I love her and you…you only love that she loves you.” 

“Minho!” you sing, puncturing the steeled tension between them. You’d only turned away for a minute to chat up a friend. He couldn’t have gone too far. You scan the crowd, standing on the tips of your toes to find him. He reappears just as quietly as he vanished, making his way back to you. “Sorry, I had to…talk to someone.” There’s worry painted all over him. It’s in the crinkle of his brow and the clenching of his jaw. Something happened.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask, stroking his jawline with your thumbs. He closes his eyes, your touch soothing enough to make him forget where he is. “It’s nothing. I’m just—you wanna get out of here?” Opening his eyes, he’s met with nothing but pure excitement. “Totally. You owe me pizza anyway!” 

“Which one is this again?” you ask, leaning in to get a better look at Minho’s phone. “Doongie,” he answers, swiping to the next picture of an equally adorable cat, “And this is Soonie and Dori.” You take a bite of what might be the best slice of pizza you’ve ever had in your life, your lips forming a pout. “Ugh, they're so cute. I must cuddle them.” “You can if you want to meet them one day. Maybe. I don’t know.” Minho shoves his hands in his pockets, turning his attention to the crescent moon that watches over you, "Moon's pretty, isn't it?"

Seeing through this transparent attempt at avoiding his feelings immediately tunes you into those you’ve tried to suppress since the night he asked you out. This time last week you weren’t even sure you could survive the red carpet, too afraid of seeing Hyunjin to even consider coming. But now, standing here on this bridge in the picturesque Parc Monceau with a man so kind, so considerate, you can’t imagine being anywhere else.

Minho put everything into making sure this night was perfect for you. He stuck by you the entire time like he promised, doing whatever he could to keep you happy. You’ve never felt more special and it’s not because of some exclusive party invite or some absurdly expensive outfit. It’s because of him. 

“I’d really like that…to hang out with them. And you.” 

“You want to see me again?”

“Duh, of course, I do.”

Minho visibly deflates, bracing himself to be let down, “Just as friends?” You know you shouldn’t say what you’re about to but your heart has beat your brain into submission and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Friendship? Is that all you want from me?” “No, I want…” he pauses to catch his breath, choosing these next few words carefully.

You’re the cutest thing, standing here with your heels in one hand and pizza crust in the other. And you’re the only thing he wants. “Fuck it” he mumbles, kissing you with every drop of passion he’s held back since you met. It’s the type of kiss so steeped in longing that you taste it each time the warmth of his tongue tangles with yours.

He brings his arms around you, locking them in place to keep you close. You drop everything, your body going limp as the kiss deepens. “I want you,” he confesses, “Always wanted you.” That crush you had on him never quite went away. It's been here all along and is back with a vengeance. You can’t lie to yourself. There’s no use pretending. Not with the way he has your body aching for him, every part of you crying out for his attention.

You want him too. 

Morning breaks and the birds are already perched at the open window, singing a song that stirs you from your sleep. You sit up in bed, taking in your surroundings. In the rays of dawn, Minho’s hotel room reminds you of something ripped from the pages of a fairytale. Everything has an iridescent sheen to it, almost as if someone’s cast a spell on it. Even Minho, still half asleep beside you, seems to be made of magic.

If you reach out to touch him would he disappear? And with him, everything you shared last night? Minho grabs your arm, drawing you back under the covers. You go without resistance, eager to be held by him. You lay your head on his chest, your fingers drawing figure eights on his skin. Minho presses his lips to your forehead, caressing your arm with the same care he’d so diligently treated the rest of your body to.

Your body is, of course, immaculate. A gift from some goddess he must’ve mistakenly appeased. To have made love to it time and time again, hearing his name spill from your lips in the hush of the night, is to have realized a fantasy he never thought would happen. But it’s this moment—your smile like honey as you poke your head up to glimpse at him—and every moment like it that he’ll hold closest to his heart when you’ve parted ways.

In Minho’s gaze, you find adoration but there’s much more to it than that. There’s infinite acceptance and with it a longing to know you inside and out so that no part of you feels unloved. Minho turns onto his side, easing down in to kiss you when—

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz! Your phone vibrates at the foot of the bed and your stomach sinks.

You swear you can feel your intestines twisting themselves into knots. Not again. “I’ll get it,” Minho insists, reaching up to grab your phone. “Uh…thanks” you stutter, taking it with shaky hands. Clicking the button on the side, you see a string of texts from your manager.

It’s happening again. You’re tempted not to read them. This has only just started. You can’t lose it already. But you have to know. Opening the thread, you’re confronted with your worst fear. 

Only, you aren’t…

The texts are business as usual. Flight cancellations, fittings for your next event, complaints about Minho’s “cute but annoying” manager. “Is everything okay?” Minho asks, yawning as he curls up next to you. You toss your phone aside, going back in for a kiss, “The best they’ve ever been.”

#stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x female reader #stray kids x chubby reader #lee know x you #lee know x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #lee know angst #lee know fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #chubby reader #plus size reader

[killedpink]

이 민호 | reflecting light.

🎧 masterlist !?

💭 synopsis: after years of a push and pull relationship with your assigned bodyguard, you leap at the opportunity to get inside his head when you're stuck in a cabin miles from society. what you don't expect is that he wants the same thing that you yearn for.

🐈‍⬛ word count: 8.3k

📂 contains: female reader, bodyguard minho, mutual pining, unestablished relationship, food mention, pet names, virgin reader, first time, oral sex, cum consumption, hair pulling, marking, noise kink, slight fingering, corruption kink, unprotected sex, creampie.

there's no heat in the sun. it's the light that wakes you, tangled in bedsheets and your sleep tender body shielding your eyes from the unwelcome light. the space in the bed next to you is beginning to freeze. minho's gone. he's usually the first to wake in the morning. in other words: you're not worried he's wandered off. that's not his job. that's not who he is.

it takes you longer than you'd like to admit for you to roll out of the warm, lonely bed.

you spot him at the kitchen counter, the oak island flooded with wood-chips, food containers and weapons. you sit at one of the stools, face in your hands as you watch minho cook. pancakes. you smile at the realisation, fondness welling up in your half groggy mind.

"good morning." he mutters absentmindedly, baritone voice husky. it hasn't been long since he woke himself, you conclude. he's uncharacteristically chatty this morning. usually, the only chatter you hear before seven is the sizzle of breakfast onto the hot metal frypan. yet again, this whole outing has been different. the circumstances weren't: someone was close to hurting you and your dutiful minho took you out of the equation. but laying next to you? holding your sleeping body? striking a conversation for the fun of it? minho rarely, if ever did things like these. it distracted him, as he put it. better an awkward silence than your life on the line, he'd insist, plump lips in a tiny frown.

you turn to the window, watching the still world outside in fascination. the wintery breath in the air sinks down in a sheer fog, frosting the pane and obscuring the earth's memory of summer. "yes, it is," you smile, eyes squinting to find the outline of the half thawed lake.

minho pushes the plate of pancakes in front of you without another word. his back is facing you again. you sigh, "are we going to talk about last night?" he turns to you curiously, without saying anything. you feel something build inside of you. a feeling you haven't felt for a long, long while. it irks you — his professionalism is by far one of the most frustrating qualities of minho. it is simultaneously attractive and infuriating.

both of his hands hold the edge of the table, leaning closer to you, "you can talk. i'll listen." minho raises a brow expectantly. his hair is getting longer again; a dark, rich brown that shines an almost red when the light manages to catch it just right. it hangs in mid air, semi obscuring his deep chestnut eyes — everything about him was so feline.

you sigh in faux resignation, a lick of fury lingering in a corner of your heart. "you haven't been that close to me since.." you pause, trying not to swallow your words. minho gave you an opportunity to talk. you'd be a fool not to prove your capabilities to him. "since the beach." he finishes coolly, a knowing glint lingering in his dark eyes as he stares at you through his long black lashes. you nod, at a loss for words.

one of his hands ruffles his hair, huffing in restraint. "i didn't mean to argue with you last night. i was.." he paused, tips of his ears beginning to burn. "i held you because i was trying to apologise. i was harsh, and i regret that." there are mere inches in-between the both of you.

as much as it hurts to say, because it means you have to realise it, you are dissatisfied with minho's apology. "you apologise to me, but you'll do it again." minho visibly bristled at your response, despite his admirable efforts to contain himself. he shook his head, "that's unfair." his voice was sentimental, open and vulnerable.

you waited, soundlessly.

"it's my job to keep you safe. i've done that — i still do that. if i tell you everything, i will be killing you. don't you understand that? you can't know the things i do and expect to be safe. i devote my life to keeping you protected, so can't you do the one thing i ask?"

you bit down on your tongue, and your gaze loitered on minho's face with a profound sense of regret and admiration. even in unimaginable amounts of hurt and frustration, he had never raised his voice at you. your eyes glittered with tears. shameful tears. they're heavier and saltier than ones of happiness, or of sadness. if it was possible, your tears seemed to hurt minho more than it did you. his lips parted, showing off his bunny teeth, and the swell of his top lip looked even plumper. his eyes softened, into big, round stars.

you dig the heels of your hands into your wet eyes, "i'm so sorry, minho." and you truly are. he moves to hold you, his hands stroke your hair and he doesn't flinch when you bury your tear soaked face into his torso. softly, with hands as gentle as rain, he tucks you away into his arms.

"you have nothing to apologise for, sweetheart. eat your breakfast, okay?" minho's strong hand rubbed up and down the length of your back delicately, as if he were unsure if you would break. you nod weakly, guilt still devouring you from the inside out.

he called you sweetheart, you realised.

sweetheart. it sounded fascinating in his beautiful mouth.

_

the crackling fire felt worthless. cold still managed to seep into your bones — your aching, heavy bones. the only warmth you felt was from minho, who sprawled himself out on you from the left. he smelled heavenly. his skin was soft, and you could feel the outline of his muscles through his shirt. there was little room to move under the shared blanket. it all felt so domestic. so.. right. this is how you wanted to be with minho. but, you know he's only this close with you to preserve heat in the winter night. it turns the butterflies in your stomach and the unfiltered swoon in your head sour. you sink into the bed, eyes fixated on the brightly flickering fire.

"i hate that we're like this.." you mutter out loud, voice raw and likely catching on the emotion in your tone. you prepare to elaborate if minho bites. you expect him to whip his head to face you and beg you to expand on your statement. he doesn't.

"i know. i'm sorry." minho's voice is husky. he buries his head into the nape of your neck, a cool nose pressing against your warm skin. it forces goosebumps from you — eager and persistent. your hands ball into fists, your bottom lip wobbling. it hurts to be this close to him; because you are always craving more.

"why can't we be like this every day?" you ask, futilely. the more you try to understand about minho, the more you realise you don't know anything about him. he was an enigma, in body and soul. you felt him nuzzle into your skin in thought. his hand, rosy at the knuckles, delicately caresses your arm, and his actions speak for him. 'i want to be like this, too.' it weeps.

"i.. i don't know." minho answers truthfully. is it possible he truly doesn't know? it seems unlike him. you want to unwrap his secrets like flower petals, to open them fully and allow him to bloom in the rays of your sun. "i want us to be like this every day. i am sorry."

minho. gentle, determined, golden minho. his tone is sweet and his voice heavy. you hear the pain in his mind when he speaks. how can he apologise? the words feel wrong coming out of his mouth. they turn into knives and twist inside of your gut. your hand falls from your lap to hold minho's hand; and you give it an affectionate squeeze. a medley of 'i love you', and 'you have nothing to be sorry for' translates from your wordless affection.

with the wood devouring fire singing in the background, you decide your next words.

"how about.." you begin, trying to ignore the sounds of your thumping, childish heart in your ears. "we hang up the titles and the statuses — just for tonight — and be who we want to be?"

"i would like that very much." minho chuckles, and you feel his smile on your bare skin. you revel in it, and you're suddenly glad you're miles off of the grid, because you're sure minho's beaming would make every lightbulb burst with his brightness. "who do you want to be tonight, minho?" you inquire. minho's brain doesn't even register what he utters, his mouth working mindlessly and without restraint; just as you promised.

"yours."

you twist in his lap like a cloud, light and gleaming. gingerly, the pads of your fingers glide over minho's face to brush the light-kissed hair from his eyes. the apples of his cheeks peek through and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons as he smiles at your touch. the contours of his angelic face are made impossibly prettier by the firelight. his plump, rounded lips glow from the warm light of the fire — he looks so homely. minho notices your staring.

"kiss me. i've wanted it long enough," he pleads, breathless.

and so, you kiss him. in a flurry, your lips glide over minho's; his top lip captured between your teeth. his lips are warm and wet and soft and so addictive. you sigh into the kiss as you realise this is all you've wanted. ever since he kissed you in that forgotten beach where the cave will never hold the same water, you've been haunted by his soft, soft skin and his devoted touch. when you're in his arms everything clicks into place.

your lips migrate from his mouth, and stop on minho's cheeks. his skin is soft, there, too. then the jaw. nose. chin. forehead. cheekbone. you cannot stop yourself. you feel his teeth peek out from his pink lips in a smile. you love him and it's getting worse. you kiss him, intending to search and understand him. you move on your own, and adoringly kiss every inch of him that he presents to you. and minho is ready for you love. he cannot go another day of choking it back — not when it feels this enriching. you want to sob, and wail at the emotions welling up inside of you. you touch each other with the most excruciating tenderness. you use a lifetime of love to pour into minho. you keep hold of each time he made you laugh, and smile and feel safe, and thrust it all back to him, each swoon-worthy memory replaying in your head and devoting a kiss to it.

your kisses are thank yous, and i love yous, and i miss yous, and i forgive yous all at once.

the moon has never seen either of you like this before. the only time you've ever kissed was under the watchful eye of the morning sun, its rays exploding on the ocean's horizon and glittering over your shadowy cave. your lips regrettably part from minho's. he rests his forehead on yours, his unearthly lips parted and his watery brown eyes gleaming like a spell under the soft orange glow of the fire.

"from the moment i kissed you, i have not been alive since. my heart beats only for you." minho's voice is smoky, and it doesn't dare travel far. his eyes gaze into yours, and many words appear in your mind to help comprehend them: whiskey, ebony. almond, feline. sparkling. does he ever tire of being so beautiful? at times like these, where intimacy is first nature and no-one else in the world could dare to exist but each other, you conclude that it suits you fine if everyone else finds minho horrible. he is your secret. he is your minho. you love him like grief loves rain — endlessly and without restraint, end, or beginning.

you place a kiss to his temple, your eyes fluttered closed comfortably, "i am yours, minho. please, show me i am yours." you feel his chest vibrate with a low chuckle. the sound vines through your mind and its roots sink and grow into your heart. his touch sears into your skin. whether minho comes to you as a lover or an executioner, you are wholly ready to receive him.

minho's fingers cradle your cheeks, his hands gentle as he kisses up your neck. "tell me." he mutters. "do you want me because it's me," he nips at your throat. you shudder, eyes scrunched closed as you try to lose everything into his touch. "or do you want me because i'm the only one around?" he asks, and judging by his tone, he is impervious to either. your open palm presses against his chest. it pains you to clarify it, but you know it is because he has never been loved by anyone before.

"minho." you start. "no world exists in where i want you only for convenience." you see the way his shoulders twitch as he contains a sob. "in every lifetime, i love you." you watch him melt and unfold before you, his deep brown eyes filling with tears. minho blinks them away, slowly, "then, i want to be the last man to do this to you."

you can't help the smile on your lips from his assumption. you brought minho's brow level with your mouth, sore from longing, and sweetly kissed his forehead. his nose bridge is next — and it scrunches as he smiles. minho's face grew so quickly warm that you giggled. in the most unsubtle way possible, minho withdrew his hips so you wouldn't feel the heat there; he closed his pure, warm chestnut eyes, wordlessly begging you to continue. your mouth fell to his neck, peppering kisses in areas no-one would think to reach. "you are the first man to do this to me." you whisper against his jaw, and you swear you can feel his golden, tanned skin burst into a sizzling burn that rolls off of his body and onto yours.

his fingers find the hem of your thick sweater. he rolls the fabric between the pads of his fingers, "can i take this off?" minho asks. you nod, "of course." your voice is soft, slow and you realise you have waited your whole life for this moment. minho's skin is blazingly warm as he slides under your sweater and coaxed it off of your flushed body. you mirror his actions, tugging at his hoodie wordlessly. minho's movements blur together as they fly around his hoodie, leaving him shirtless and shivering from the onslaught of cold.

minho's golden skin was a plane of hard earned muscle. with a little help from the soft light, you could see occasional marks of fairer skin on his body. scars. his abs, ribs, arms and pecs were littered with shrapnel marks and in lesser places: bullet holes. his collarbones, like pillars, started at he base of his throat and spread to the ends of his shoulders. he was mythic, and held down by miles of smooth skin. at your staring, minho frowned. "it's not.. attractive, i know. i'm sorry." he bowed his head. had he gone mad?

"no." you protested, devoted fingers tracing the contours of his torso and running over the healed wounds. you watch a shiver roll down his spine at your touch, ghosting over his skin. he is so brave, and quiet, that you often forget of his suffering. "you do what you need to, i know. but, still — it suits you. minho, it's beyond attractive. it's impressive and.. beautiful." perhaps you had intended your words to be more profound, more complex, but at the sight of minho, you tend to lose your train of thought. your simple language was open; and it didn't hide how much you admired him. you love his scars because none of them come without a story. bravery, stupidity — as rare as it might be for him — minho has earned them all, and overcame them.

you delicately tuck a piece of wavy brunet hair behind minho's ear, stopping it from sweeping his ear. minho's eyes slipped closed for a moment, his thick lashes kissing the swells of his cheeks as he lets out a small, giddy laugh. it whirls around your head and makes your heart beat faster against your ribcage. it made your stomach flutter and twist like a gust of wind whipping through a spring-fresh tree. when minho opens his eyes again, his pupils look significantly more dilated than before, his pink tongue peeking out from his mouth to wet his lips. "can i touch you?"

your heart softens. a burning need to sob at his kindness overwhelms you and chokes your throat. "i get it's the gentleman thing to do," the pads of your fingers stroke his burning cheeks. "to keep asking me, but minho, you can do whatever you want to me."

you excite minho. he grins, scooping you onto his lap and burying his head into the crook of your neck, flushed skin against flushed skin. his fingers circle your hipbone, "i am only as gentlemanly as you want me to be." he muttered into your body, which trembles for his touch. you do not push minho away, instead hooking your fingers into the muscle of his shoulders and tug, pull, palm him closer to you. there will always be molecules between the both of you and it is infuriating.

like stars, the red of yours and minho's mouths collide. he breathes into your lungs; he is a wonderful creation and it's your first time seeing heaven. the deliciously veiny set of hands slide up from your hips, and he's brave enough to draw circles around your breasts with the pads of his thumbs. you expected to stay cold for a lot while longer; but your body grew scorching hot very soon. he has that effect on you. the feeling of his strong, muscular thighs between your legs forces your appetite for him to boil over in your gut.

minho had spent his whole life accommodating others. everything removable, and soft in him murdered and replaced with hardness and stoicism. vulnerably, he sits under you, open and waiting — begging for you to take him apart. his body pleads for you to sit on the bed of the long, toned muscle of his thigh. he prays you will rest your swirling head on the cushion of his stuttering heart. he is your home, do you not understand? make it yours.

your body tries to shudder as his index finger dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and traces your slit, minho's lips morphing into a smirk as he feels the damp fabric of your underwear. the texture of his veiny, strong hands feel so overwhelmingly good on your skin that you can't help yourself when your hips roll to follow his touch. your fingers sneak into his hair and tug at his roots, bringing his head up as you press your lips onto his. your insatiable mouth kissed minho with all the power you could possibly muster — making up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, even seconds that your lips had not been touching.

the way minho carefully thumbs your clit replaces the fluttery, airy feeling of arousal in your gut to the exact opposite: he replaces it with a heavy, empty ache that desperately needs to be filled for your sake. your mouths melt together, lips parting and tongues spreading the taste of the other in your mouths. minho's free hand hooks into the flesh of your hip to trap you, to stop them from rolling and grinding onto his lap, your cunt desperate to feel every inch of him. these touches feel like the start of forever. you want to touch him until his name is written on every atom used to craft you. in your eyes, the meaning of forever cannot hold you down from him.

desperation sits heavy on your tongue, and you want to plead and beg for minho to love you the same way tomorrow, and the next month, and the year after that. your fingers claw into his skin, and you shudder when he kisses your tongue with the same amount of devilishness he uses to charm your need for him into something carnal. minho pulls away from you, and you see his eyes light up as his mouth fills with something to say. words. you've had enough words for a lifetime, and yet you always find yourself stopping to hear his. you expect minho to maintain his gentlemanly behaviour, as he always did.

"do you trust me?" he asks, cryptically, his eyes gleaming and you're sure you can hear him purr if you concentrate on it over your thumping heart. with every breath in my body, you want to say. you do not; instead you kiss his temple and mutter, "of course." as sweetly and as genuine as one can muster when their body is aching for an orgasmic release. minho urges you off of his lap, and you follow his lead, slowly and curiously. you watch him with your head tilted to the side in fascination. even when you do not speak, a beautiful, sweet glow grows between the both of you.

his fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your sweatpants, pulling them and your underwear off in one motion. you instinctively closed your legs at the biting cold, a gasp leaving your throat and a shiver striking through you. minho's hands cupped both of your knees, "i need you to open up, sweetheart." can you do that for me? his eyes said, watching you intently. you have so much of him in your heart that it urges you to give in, to surrender yourself to minho and trust him, like you always do. so, you do exactly that.

you let minho place one of your legs above his shoulders, the inside of your knee fitting together against the curve of his shoulder like a puzzle. he buried himself between your legs, throwing himself to your body like you were an altar, and he a sacrifice. your cheeks burned — you felt so vulnerable and exposed. minho's thumbs spreads open your sex, unraveling you like a scholar would unravel the pages of a book: ravishing each morsel and dedicating a part of their life to it. minho kisses the inside of your thighs, the tip of his nose brushing against your skin and you sob. he is the only person to come this close to you.

at the feeling of his warm breath on your sex, you shudder, thighs tensing as you suck in a breath. you see minho's eyes stare into yours, peering up at you tenderly through his lashes. "let me take care of you. i promise you'll be okay." his voice is angelic as he purrs into your cunt. it makes you feel sinful, and you strangely surrender yourself into the feeling. you nod, "i trust you, minho." you breathe into a whisper. it takes a great effort not to allow your legs to squirm in minho's arms as he collects your arousal on his thumb, sampling your taste and spreading it through his mouth. is everything he does always this sexy?

he nestles into the softness of your thighs, the soft pink swells of his lips experimentally mouthing at your wet, velvet soft sex. you slope into his touch, soft and light moans sneaking into the cycle of your shaky breaths. pleased with your reaction, minho kisses your cunt just as intensely as he kissed your mouth, his tongue sinking into your slit and setting ablaze something that resided in the cage of your hips. your heel scattered around his toned back, hips bucking into his touch — you feel minho's warm spit drizzle down the inside of your legs from your sudden movement, and his mouth dips down to collect it like the world's most devoted servant.

the winter night has leeched enough heat from the earth to give you goosebumps; and you feel it is almost intentional. you feel minho smirk into your cunt and it's enough to drive you delirious. your desire for him begins to sound like hymns, and it gnaws through your restless skin and seeps into every corner of your mind. "need you," flutters from your mouth, drooling and lips parted. minho hums smugly at your confession, releasing himself from your cunt with an obscene smack. his head tilts up, swallowing his drool and your slick, his throat rolling in the sexiest way as he swallows, and immediately your half-working mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, and tonguing his neck.

minho covers your entire sex with his sweetly intense, red hot mouth. he chuckles fondly into your cunt when your fingernails press and dig into his forearms; when your back arches into his tongue and when you mewl out his name like you had just discovered it. you cry out minho's name over and over, until you're sure it's etched somewhere inside of your throat. the flat of minho's pink tongue rakes and slides against your slit, top to bottom and back up again. you sink into his touch and pray for his mercy as the tip of his nose bumps and prods at your sore, puffy clit. it has your lungs pouring out a squeal, until there's no breath left in you.

"fuck, don't shut up. no-one's around to hear." minho moans into you, eyeing the way your lips parted to sob and mewl his name. he gives your clit a satisfied kiss at the way you quickly obeyed him, his soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit and devotedly sucking. it puts goosebumps on his skin, at the way your fingers brush the wispy dark stray hairs out of minho’s face, clinging onto his hair and holding on for dear life; similarly, it feels like the same way he held onto your thighs. possessive.

you feel tears brim at your eyes, and you’re unsure of the meaning behind them. are you close to crying because of unfathomable pleasures that you’re unsure you can ever come down from – or because you don’t know if this is the first and last time that minho openly touches and loves you like he is now. he loves you continuously, and intensely, and you cannot bear to let this warm moment fade into a memory that will leave you utterly cold.

minho’s middle finger slips into your sobbing cunt, and the coldness of his skin inside of your searing heat tears a noise from your throat that makes him smirk. your heel digs into the hard, toned plane of his back. you want to tell him just how excellent of a job he’s doing, but when you try, all that comes out is “god minho!”. it makes the man in question chuckle at the double meaning. most commonly, it would be heard as ‘god, minho!’ — but his ego hears it as ‘god: minho!’ and it makes him want to worship you impossibly better than he already is.

how his jaw isn't tired, you don't know. with his skilled mouth, minho paints you a heaven of love with everything he's wanted to say. he's not pressed so tightly to you to preserve heat in the bitter, desolate mountains. your relationship with your bodyguard is complicated in every way. you want nothing more than to love each other the way your hearts beg to — but your lives obstruct that only wish. people talk, and in both of your worlds, these people are dangerous and will exploit your unity until the love for each other has been gutted and ripped from your tired, weary bodies. it is unsafe to brush your thumb over minho's lips, and it is unsafe to whisper 'i love you's', even when you're both deep into the night.

but here? where nothing else exists but each other, you are free to let the years worth of accumulated love flow freely from your bodies. but you know you will not stay like this forever. now that you've gotten this close; now that you've held his face, and hands, and body, you do not want to let go. but, eventually, you must. and you must let things go back to how they once were, as you did once before after minho cradled your sobbing body and tucked you into his bleeding middle, and kissed you so lovingly — so intensely, that you still feel the raw divinity of it all bleeding from the memory of his soft, soft pink lips.

he leaves your sobbing, sensitive body with a chaste, satisfied kiss. "beautiful." you hear him mutter, his voice soft and light. you, in your half-mad daze, stir after a few moments. minho's body heat is replaced by absolutely nothing. you give him a look he knows too well. what are you doing, he reads on your face. he smiles fondly, wiping your slick off of his lips and chin, "i want you to be closer to me. for your first time, you deserve intimacy." minho kisses up your torso, hands gliding up your thighs, over your hips. you lay there, bewildered by his honesty, his touch, his voice. there's no way he's real. you must have made him up in your mind, you're half sure of it. half sure because my god no one person could ever cook up someone this profound on their own. whichever god let minho out of their army is a fool.

your relationship with minho is always tested. when you first met him, he was cold and blunt and everything frustrating. his body was leaner then, and less experienced. he was mouthy and would always get into trouble, which rubbed off on you just as he was growing out of that phase. which, of course, birthed a new dynamic of minho having to pull you out of confrontations kicking and screaming and, many times, sobbing about how much you hated him. obviously you could never hate minho — but you were hurting, and so you wanted to hurt him the same way. in many instances, you confused 'i hate you' with 'i love you', when it came to minho. you had never surrendered yourself entirely to anyone before, and you are only now realising that minho had surrendered himself to you since the first day he met you. back then, the both of you were too scared to let your hearts speak, but when you and he are pressed together like this; his lips on your skin and your hands smoothing down his hair, you don't think you can ever go about life silently ever again.

you nod in surrender, sinking into his melodic voice like a rock in water, your hips aching with arousal and your skin flushed. you trust minho completely, and you show this by winding your hands around his neck, thumbs on his cheeks and fingers splayed in his hair and on his neck, and bring him into your kiss, pressing your lips to minho's like you were a love potion, sweet and hypnotic and so close to making his heart stop with each quick, needy peck on his plump, pink lips. you can feel his smile and you can see it written all over his face when you open your half-lidded eyes to see him: his long, thick lashes kissing the swells of his cheeks as his teeth peek out and his ears flush red. in your haze, you don't realise you've both sat up until you feel your hips absentmindedly rocking on your lap, desperate for friction and dripping on your sticky skin.

minho's large, veiny hand puts your fingertips on his belt. you don't remember when he took off his weapons from his holsters, but they're forgotten about and discarded somewhere on the icy cabin floor. your kiss is broken, but your love spell is not, and as you look into minho's deep brown eyes you see his love for you in them, shining like pearls on the ocean floor. you palm the rough leathery feel of his belt, and you realise what he's asking of you. he wants you to do this part — he wants it to be you who opens him up. minho's hot- scalding hot mouth kisses your neck and his teeth nips at your skin and you don't remember how you got his belt off, just that you did.

you want to tell him not to hold back, to pour everything out and let himself be vulnerable. for years he has swarmed your mind and forced you to guess everything about him — he has been your torturer in more ways than one ever since you met him. your time before knowing minho felt like a lifetime ago. maybe you weren't truly living until you heard his sweet voice purring in your ear and his commanding, skilled hands brushing against your skin with a challenging glint in his brown eyes. you plant a kiss on minho's jaw, a silent plea, the sounds of your wet lips smacking against his skin made him smirk, the skin of his deep cupid's bow curving into a smile.

the closest you and minho could get to each other wasn't nearly close enough. your eyes closed, hands winding around his body and your lips parted in concentration. your mind was slowly shutting down, allowing all sensations to your body to become the only thing that proves you're existing. that memory of the morning beach and the fresh feeling of minho's lips on your own is the last thing you think of: the salty ocean in the air and minho's body heat leaping out of his chest as he held you, just as you hold him now. even then, in his own way, he was trying to protect you.

minho's veiny hand holds the base of his warm, girthy cock as he introduces the head of his cock onto your dripping cunt. he gives you a once over, his paradoxically bambi-esque, feline eyes landing on yours. do you want this? his deep brown eyes ask. it melts your heart in more ways than one, and you give him a slow, deliberate nod.

“i won’t hurt you.” minho mutters, voice warm, as his dark eyes carefully linger on your eyes. he waits, until you give him a response, always looking for your consent. if someone were to cut you up and take a look at your heart, you feel as though it would be tender and bleeding and undoubtedly minho’s. your hand caresses his jaw for a moment.

“i know you won’t.” you don't realise you're smiling until minho's thumb brushes against your soft lips, trying to feel the words on your mouth. you take his hand in yours, fingers knotting together as he eases into you, piercing your entrance with his length and filling you up completely. you squeeze both his cock and his hand at the same time, tightening significantly when minho's sweat sticky chest hovered over yours, in all of his muscular, warm glory.

with faces in each other's necks, pulses in the other's ears, you realise breath by breath that you had been craving and needing this for years. minho kneels before you, his hand wrapped around your thigh to secure your position. you feel minho's throbbing cock in your sex with every breath, and the closer he inches inside of you, the worse the ache hits you all at once. his touch is like lightning, thunder clapping in your mind and electricity spreading mercilessly throughout your body. your fingernails press into minho's skin, a whimper bursting through your lips as he presses his hips into yours, his hilt just barely visible to him and your slick covering the both of you.

"you look perfect," minho mutters, thumb stroking your thigh. "just tell me when, beautiful." he cooed, somehow more than happy to kneel in a suspended state of pleasure just for your sake. he's perfectly content to just be in your soul as he always is; tormenting you. minho fills you to the brim and at your command, gives you two deep, fulfilling grinds into your sex, his brows furrowing and his eyes closing as he loses himself in your hot, deep cunt. the sounds are obscene and you're infinitely grateful minho happened to fuck you where no-one else could hear.

a part of you wants to be stained and branded as his, in fear he would ever leave you. but, for minho, the pain of living without you would be unimaginable. it's decided then and there, that in his next life, he would search for you and make you his; just as he is doing now. it's took him long enough. yours and minho's sweat tacky skin sticks together with a mind of their own, and following in your bodies' footsteps, you plant a kiss to minho's plump lips, then his nose bridge, his temple, begging and urging him on.

minho's hips and by extension, his cock, ruts into your sex; your sticky, wet arousal mixing and giving the illusion that you and he are melting into one another. you couldn't say where you end and he began. you swallow a sob, cunt clenching like molten silk on minho's length. he frowns at this, withdrawing his hips from you and leaving you in agonising emptiness, his lips on the shell of your ear and his hand forgetting your thigh and smoothing back your hair, "let me hear you." he muttered in that caramel voice of his. his tone was teasing and loving and commanding all at once.

who are you to deny him?

you squirm and squeal in his grip as minho’s wet, pink mouth kisses and licks down your torso, leaving a blazing trail of spit on your skin. at the same time, his slick, warm cock caresses your slit before sinking back into your waiting, inviting cunt. you live solely on the honey of his touch, intoxicated by the way minho truly savours every curve and inch of you. ironically enough, minho knows you too well, and he would like nothing more than to forget you for this moment; so he could discover and love you for the first time all over again.

the way minho’s length rutted into the scalding, blazing hollow of your sex between the cage of your hips could rewrite your history entirely. mewl after moan escaped from your lips, only contributing to the obscene sounds in the cabin: yours and minho’s moans mixed with the vulgar sounds of minho fucking your shared arousal into your sex, paired with the sound of the only bed creaking and smacking against the cabin wall created the perfect cocktail of ambience noise. the sensations of his touch is unimaginable and it leaves you melting into the mattress, mindless and drunk off of the entirely new experience. with every passing second, minho is immensely grateful that there’s no-one around the cabin you’re staying in for miles. not that it matters much, anyway: you’re the only person that exists when you’re caged between his arms like this. everyone else ceases to exist the moment you wind your hands around his neck and your dripping sex flutters beautifully around him.

the taste of the trying pains of loving the unavailable minho for years dissolve in your mouth. your eyes roll back in bliss while your eyelids start to close simultaneously, fingers hooked into minho’s burning hot skin. your hips meet his thrusts into you, the sound oddly reminiscent of waves colliding. minho likes it when your hips meet his, and he especially likes the noises you make when you meet like two magnets.

“does that feel good?” he asks when the tip of his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of you. he’s teasing you — of course he knows it feels good. he just wants to hear you say it, to stroke his ego. nails digging further into his toned muscle, you swallow a cry and nod, complicit with his plans. you’re unsure what you end up mewling out, stuck between recalling it as ‘so good’, or ‘you’re good’. either way, minho almost purrs at the praise and adjusts your hips around his sides, skilled hands holding you in place as he gives you a good view of his veiny, tanned arms. with a slight change of positions you are introduced to a new world of sensations.

minho’s cock sears into you, setting your inexperienced sex ablaze. you squeal, tears flowing down your flushed cheeks and your throat growing hoarse as you let out a stringed moan that’s interrupted and punctuated with each thrust minho bestows upon you. in other words, you’re completely lost in the feeling of minho’s wonderfully skilled cock burying itself into your aching, puffy cunt.

deep within the night, minho lets you in on what he’s thinking. “can’t believe you’re this innocent..” he swoons, smirking as his hand strokes your leg, still in the perfect position he manoeuvred you into. your eyes open to glare at him, regardless if his searing hot, hard cock is giving you all the relief your body could’ve wanted. the sight above you makes you fall in love with him all over again. minho has his eyes closed, long thick lashes resting on the swells of his cheeks, pink swollen lips parted and cheeks beginning to flush as his brows furrow in concentration. his body seemed carved out of marble as it laid bare above you; like some lost piece of art. each inch of tanned muscle and raised scar and mole made you want to throw yourself onto his altar and worship him at his temple. you knew he would protect you as a god, too.

he wants to take it slow- he truly does, he tries so hard, especially considering it’s your first time — but minho concludes you feel too good and the pleased moans that flows from your lips like honey are too beautiful to ignore. your touch only entices him, drawing him in to guzzle down your love potion like his life depends on it. the temperature between your sweaty, clammy bodies climbs drastically; a contrast between the rigidly biting cold that lay inside and outside the cabin. minho’s hips ruts into you and his throat pours out a groan, guttaral and deep and drawn out as your slick cunt pulses with the weight of minho’s cock inside of you, pressing onto your guts and leaving your mind entirely fuzzy, silent almost.

the only thing keeping your mind from being fully silent is minho’s sounds repeating like a broken record. he presses his skin against yours, “wanted to do this to you f’ so long,” he slurs, clearly drunk on electrifying pleasure as his hips piston wildly and desperately into your sex, his biceps flexing as he anchors himself to the mattress. if you had half a mind to form a coherent thought, you would’ve scolded him for not fucking you sooner — but instead you answer him by letting your teeth sink into his neck, barely enough to bruise but enough for minho, even in his sex maddened daze, to differentiate it from a playful nip.

he cries out a moan, so loud you’re sure you physically felt it. your cunt clenches in response, almost purring at his sounds as your calves flail across his back in a pathetically amateurish attempt to bring minho closer to you. no matter what, you’re never satisfied with the lack of distance. perhaps it’s because you have years of experience seeing him so far away from you, but you feel as though minho could disappear through your hands like smoke at any given moment: you need him close at all times. even when he’s the closest to you he’s ever been, it cannot compete with the way your chest bleeds from the distance between you.

love isn’t gentle like people say. in songs, paintings, poems - any forms of art, really, love is always expressed as a wonderfully soft feeling that makes one feel as though their life has only just begun. but, for you and minho, love has claws and teeth which wounds never fully heal from each blow to the soul. love, for you, is a bleeding, agonising feeling that drives you mad, yet you find yourself always crawling back for another bite.

minho’s thrusts grow erratic, less rhythmic and more grinding into your newly deflowered cunt, desperate and meaner, as if he’s trying to split you open. it certainly feels that way, each slam of his hips into yours is reminiscent of a whip, slashing your skin and leaving it searing red, burning hot and without a doubt bruising in the morning. it turns less like a journey and more like a crusade — like an animalistic, primal pilgrimage that needs to leave marks in case either of you forget this night ever happened.

you struggle to find air; your mouth exhaling moans and whimpers and your nose buried into minho’s neck, close to his pulse just to feel that he’s alive, breathing and you’re not, in fact, dreaming. minho’s tone graduates from whispers to mutters to borderline yelling. you have the excitement and passion to thank for that. minho’s close, you can tell. his forearms brackets your head as he mouths kisses on your pulse, nose pressed into your jawline and scarred chest flush against your pristine skin. he jackhammers his pulsing cock into your sopping, achingly puffy cunt with so much force and vehemence you’re unsure if he loves you or hates you. he beings to forget his strength, and you’re already dreading the soreness your body will greet you with when you wake tomorrow.

your blood swirls in your head, your ears hearing it more clearer over minho’s muttering, but the few words you can make out makes your back arch and your eyes roll, mindless and so pleased to finally let minho take you like this. you hear things like ‘all mine’, ‘ruined f’ anyone else’, and ‘gorgeous like this, taking me so well’. it puts a heat in the cage of your hips so burning, intense like molten lava and even then you’d rather a thousand burning suns than this violent heat. tears trickle down your face, rolling and collecting in the hollow of your collarbones, thighs twitching and despite not even standing you want nothing more than to collapse in on yourself.

minho, on the other hand, digs his fingernails into every inch of your skin, pushing himself inside of you so eagerly you genuinely let out a cry, chest heaving as he bottoms out, the feverish desire for you reaching its high as he ruts his hips into you, balls sore and heavy as his orgasm finds him more intensely and quicker than a gunshot. it’s almost instant: like a flash of white, he’s pumping your cunt with pearly hot cum with his throat exposed, fully vulnerable.

the stringy fluid between the both of you is never ending, your own orgasm hitting you so harshly that your voice falls silent, eyes screwed shut and clutching minho’s hand so tightly that blood cannot get to his fingers. you’re sobbing; writhing under him, cunt spasming and lungs thrashing inside of your body, desperate to get air inside themselves. devoted, loving minho is there to coax you through it, kissing at your sweat slicked temple and brushing hair out of your face, “attagirl, you’re alright, breathe, sweetheart. i’ve got you, there we go, deep breaths, such a good girl you are,” he coos, fawning over you and stroking your arm.

you swear that as you hit your orgasm, you felt realms blur together and as you unavoidably came down from your high, you’re disoriented and unsure which plane of reality you’ve landed on. you’re exhausted and you’re seeing everything from a different perspective, and you realise even from above, fucked out and more exhausted than you, minho looks angelic. his golden skin is glistening and glowing in the dim light like a statue, and you want nothing more than to take him in your arms and kiss him until there’s no love left in your body.

you pay no mind to the wetness of cum flowing out of your sex in sporadic waves, instead busying yourself with showering minho in a heaven of love, courtesy of your kisses and sweet talk. he blushes and smiles at your kisses, his arm wrapping you into his chest and holding the back of your head loosely and protectively.

on the brink of falling asleep, you realise you couldn’t care less if you’re not the same devoted lovers tomorrow, or even after your retreat to a desolate mountain cabin is finished. all that matters is now — and you’ve both expressed that if it was up to you, this night would be an everyday occurrence, as is falling asleep next to each other and the obligatory ‘i love yous’. now that you’re worn out, on your side and half asleep already, you nestle into minho’s body and surrender yourself to any outcome. the memory of this night is enough to keep you from a lifetime of longing and want. once again, your minho has proven his devotion to you, and once again you find yourself feeling invincible in his touch.

on the fragile knife’s edge of sleep, minho strokes your clammy skin and you’re certain you hear him mutter into your hair: “i don’t think i want to go back to being minho. i want to stay yours forever. won’t you let me?” and even half asleep, your heart simultaneously flutters and crumbles. the first thing you’ll do tomorrow is kiss him until your lips are bruised and tell minho over and over again how he cannot be anything but yours — no matter who objects, no matter the danger, you and minho will remain as you did tonight.

#skz #skz fanfic #stray kids #kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #female reader #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #lee minho #skz lee know #stray kids lee minho #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids minho #stray kids drabbles #skz minho #minho skz #minho x reader #stray kids imagine

[kkurades]

NEW JEANS ━━━━━ stray kids mini smau series

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CELEBRITY CRUSHES is someone everyone dreams to be with despite the ridiculousness and reality but what happens when the stray kids members actually have a shot with their celebrity crush?

genres: idol!stray kids, famous!fem!reader, smau, fluff, crack, angst?

warning: profanity, dark humour

author’s note: i love love love making smau’s but I often lose interest & want to start a new one so this seemed like a perfect idea! + yesterday was my birthday so i decided to do something different :D (btw all these smau’s will be ab 5-10 parts bc it’s a mini smau)

last updated: july 30th, 2023

tag list: @alyszaen, @soulphoenix1618, @what-the-y2k, @miin17, @kuic0re ( open )

pairing: idol!bang chan x rapper!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, colleagues to friends to lovers

summary: chan can’t remember a time where he wasn’t enchanted by you. your looks, voice and lyrics verses always managed to capture his heart so when he found out that you were a fan of 3racha he just had to collab with you and hopefully make you fall in love with him just like he is with you.

status: ongoing

CHAN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — ASAP !!

pairing: idol!lee minho x dancer!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to colleagues to lovers

summary: minho has been a fan of yours ever since he found out about you which was back in his bts back dancer era. so when he finally debuted in what grew to be one of the most successful kpop groups he prayed that you would deem them good enough to work together and it seemed like his prayers and wishes were answered when he found you stretching in the studio at four am in the morning.

status: upcoming

MINHO’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — ATTENTION !!

pairing: idol!seo changbin x boxer!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to friends to lovers

summary: changbin felt like crying when you got heavily injured during a fight which meant that you would go on a break for a few months to rest but you were apparently quite restless because not even three weeks after the statement of your hiatus you seemed to follow jeongin around as his new bodyguard for the time being and he couldn’t help but try and grab his only chance at love with you.

status: upcoming

CHANGBIN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — HYPEBOY !!

pairing: idol!hwang hyunjin x model!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to friends to lovers

summary: hyunjin was never able to speak coherently whenever he was in the same room as you which wasn’t very often. fortunately he often had the opportunity to go to events that you attended and his dreams came true when he found out that you were willing to do a photoshoot with him the only problem is that couldn’t properly speak around you.

status: upcoming

HYUNJIN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — SUPER SHY !!

pairing: idol!han jisung x actress!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, slight!angst, strangers to lovers

summary: jisung was proud to call himself your biggest fan. he watched every drama you played in and replayed your interviews multiple times a day. the other members had gotten sick of it after two years straight so chan decided to pull some strings to surprise jisung on his birthday and much to his delight you seemed to be enchanted by him what a shame that you already have a boyfriend.

status: upcoming

JISUNG’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — GET UP !!

pairing: idol!lee felix x streamer!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to friends to lovers

summary: felix has a usual daily routine. he does his job, comes home, sits down in his gaming chair and watches your videos and lives any time he can. but it wasn’t enough for him anymore so on valentines he decided to risk it and send you a bouquet of flowers with a number written on a card hidden between it. now he could only hope that you would be curious enough to text him.

status: upcoming

FELIX’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — ZERO !!

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x ice skater!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to lovers

summary: seungmin had only ever been able to admire you through a screen because of his busy schedules. so when he found out that one of his acquaintances was your best friend he just had to ask him for help. the only problem is that sunghoon didn’t do favours for free.

status: upcoming

SEUNGMIN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — OMG !!

pairing: idol!yang jeongin x fashion designer!fem!reader

genres: idol au, smau, written, fluff, crack, strangers to lovers

summary: jeongin would do anything for you, even beg chan and their manager to do a collab with your brand. fortunately they thought it would be a good idea because of your worldly known, luxe clothing brand. now the only thing that was left to do was try and convince your stubborn assistant to give them a chance and let them collaborate with your brand but lucky for them you were hooked the moment jeongin found your very beloved missing pet.

JEONGIN’S CELEBRITY CRUSH — DITTO !!

new jeans © kkurades, 2023.

#✩ ° ｡ new jeans #kpop smau #stray kids masterlist #stray kids social media au #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids smau #stray kids social au #skz x reader #skz #bangchan smau #bang chan x reader #lee know smau #lee know x reader #changbin smau #changbin x reader #hyunjin smau #hyunjin x reader #han jisung smau #han jisung x reader #felix smau #felix x reader #seungmin smau #seungmin x reader #jeongin smau #jeongin x reader

[silv3rswirls]

Their s/o is swarmed at the airport

Anon asks: Hello! Just discovered your work, so good! Could I request a reaction or one shot of bts or stray kids losing their s/o in the airport do to fans/security? It can be fluff or angst like they find them or leave w/out noticing they’re not with them. Thanks!

Note: Thank you for requesting!💕

♡Chan♡

Angry, stressed, and disappointed; he’s feeling just about every negative feeling possible during the ordeal. He couldn’t imagine feeling worse at that moment, but once you’re separated from him he’s just so overwhelmed. Despite the challenge, he does get a hold of you again, pulling you to the car while shouting at people to move aside. He comforts and checks on you, but stays upset over it all, and later addresses it while live.

♡Minho♡

He tries to speak up once fans begin to get too close, but when things really start to spiral he feels like he could fly off the handle at any moment. When he loses sight of you and no one will let him through to look for you, and security keeps trying to push him along, he anxiously waits for you in the car. When you’re back with him he hugs you and immediately apologizes.

♡Changbin♡

He turns into your bodyguard the moment things start to get out of control. He’s got an iron grip on you and is beelining for the car. He doesn't stop to shout or ask people to move away, he’s solely focused on getting to the car. He stays quite upset about it happening all day, and even the following week he’s left with a sour feeling.

♡Hyunjin♡

He’s scared when he realizes you’re nowhere in sight. He feels awful and even responsible for this happening, losing you only piles the guilt thicker. He engulfs you in a hug when everything calms, apologizing for not holding onto you tighter, not being able to get you in front of him rather than behind, etc. He’s clingy the rest of the day, scared to let you go.

♡Jisung♡

His anxiety was already high, so when the crowding and pushing started he felt like he could pass out. He makes sure to try to keep you in front of himself and hold onto you. But with all the pushing and pulling he ends up letting Chan help you get to the car sooner. You both help each other calm down after the incident.

♡Felix♡

He appreciates the respectful fans who tell the others to calm down, but ultimately it doesn’t help. “Please don’t touch them” he nearly pleads as people start to push the two of you apart and security pushes him along. He’s upset that security waited to help you after him, but it's forgotten once he’s got up in his arms again.

♡Seungmin♡

So visibly upset and angry, telling pushing fans to please get back and stop. He makes sure no one hurts you when he has the chance, keeping your hands firmly in his own. He stews in his anger throughout most of the day, but in the end, he can only hope nothing like that happens again.

♡Jeongin♡

He didn’t even realize you were gone until he got in the car and you didn’t follow. He sat anxiously waiting, unable to get back out of the car as you’re found and ushered up. He’s scared, apologizing, and hoping you aren’t upset with him over this. He hugs you tight, promising never to lose you like that again.

#stray kids reaction #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #Bang Chan #Lee Minho #Seo Changbin #Hwang Hyunjin #Han Jisung #Lee Felix #Kim Seungmin #Yang Jeongin