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txtsoobean · 2 days ago

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The amount of excitement I got from reading the words Legacy Day, omg! I have always loved the Ever After High series and I love how you took the main plot of it and changed it to fit your story.

➳ written on paper. lmh

pairing: (skz) lee minho x fem!reader

As the daughter of the previous Snow White, your story requires an evil witch to take the antagonist’s spot—someone who would help lead you towards your happily ever after. That was where Minho’s role comes in.

genre/s: fantasy au, storybook/fairytales next generation au, forbidden lovers(ish), angst, fluff, drama in general, a dash of humor, son of the evil queen minho x daughter of snow white reader, kinda ever after high au but with a twist

warning/s: mentions of death (no actual dying), themes of bullying & discrimination (story roles), mentions of cheating (its not minho dw), political(?) corruption & deception, swearing, crying... lots, hyunjin is kinda an asshole for a while im so sorry

wc: 16.6k

note: tysm for the people who took interest in the teaser! i hope this makes the wait worth it <3 also this is my first time writing a fic this long, so feedback would be greatly appreciated^^

2022 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Legacy Day.

A momentous event where the students of Storybook High pledge to all of the magical world to follow in the same footsteps as their fairytale parents. In this school, the students range from the offspring of protagonists to mere side characters—the sons and daughters of antagonists are here too.

You see, when children of this magical world turn eleven, they are sent to study at Storybook High to learn more about the realm and the stories that led to its establishment. One is expected to complete the full nine-year curriculum and sign the Book of Legends on the first day of eighth grade, sealing their fate forever. This day is called "Legacy Day."

The process of signing one’s fate has been followed for many years. Some were less willing than the others, of course—but at the end of the day, no one had ever dared not to sign. This was greatly influenced by the saying that if you don’t, then your story will disappear along with you. As one would have already guessed, that belief sparked a heated debate about whether it was true or not. After all, there were a lot of fairytale children that despised their so-called "fate".

And that leads us exactly to our current event.

Silence wraps the massive hall as all eyes are fixated on one person standing on top of the tall stage. Tension hung heavily in the air, a result created by seeing who was facing them all. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation, finding your hands clasped while your eyes were glued on Minho—who was nervously staring at the book in front of him.

Minho was what they could classify as your partner. Not in a romantic way (you suppose), but more so with your stories. As the daughter of the previous Snow White, your story requires an evil witch to take the antagonist’s spot—someone who would help lead you towards your happily ever after.

That was where Minho’s role comes in.

"I am Minho, son of the Evil Queen. And," he takes a shaky breath. "I pledge..."

Everyone watching is on the tips of their toes. Minho was most well known as the person who hated their fate more than anyone else. He was practically the face of the "rebellious teens," as the others called them, who claimed they would write their own stories instead. Being the son of the Evil Queen—the same person who poisoned your very own mother and got herself locked up inside the mirror prison, his story calls for him to do the same to you.

Surprisingly, Minho was far from what you would’ve expected as the next Evil King.

From the moment you got your acceptance letter, your parents had already warned you to never befriend Minho. They said that he’d be mean, despicable, a rotten apple, and basically evil as a whole. "Mind your own business in the dorm room, sweetheart," you remember your mother telling you as she smoothed out your dress in the carriage. "Your roommate will be the enemy. I know it sounds scary, but it’s only natural. Both of your fates are tied together. However, do not worry, my love. It’ll be over as soon as possible," she comforted you.

Well, it turns out your parents were very wrong.

Minho was nothing short of sweet and caring. Sure, he was a bit cold at times, but his frosty exterior did not speak for him the same way his heart did at all. He was fun, playful, and easy to get along with. You found yourself forming a friendly dynamic with him sooner than you expected.

"I pledge," Minho visibly gritted his teeth to force out the words he feared for the longest time. Eyes shifting, he looked at you—wordlessly pleading for you to help him escape. But, having nothing much you could do, you could only give him a small smile of encouragement. He had to do this.

There was no other choice.

Feeling defeated, he took the quill and stopped below the page. This was it—he’s expected to sign any second now, you thought bitterly. Even if one despised their fate, it was the only way to live in this world. The harsh truth that all of you had to endure.

Yet just when you were about to relax, Minho’s eyes suddenly changed from hesitant to determined. Your eyes automatically widened in horror. As his friend and roommate for the seven years you’ve been at this school, that look was something you knew very well.

He can’t be thinking of—no way!

"No," he spat out strongly. The crowd collectively gasps at his words. "I’m not signing this bullshit."

In one quick motion, the book was slammed shut.

The sound of distressed reactions took over the hall as the magic mirrors showcasing the event shattered one by one. Fear quickly spread amongst the mass of people, the emotion emphasized by the now dimming lighting. Your body froze in shock and disbelief at what Minho had just done. This—this can’t be happening, right?

Your eyes closed instinctively as you shook silently beneath the stage. You two can’t just disappear like this! What on earth was Minho thinking? Sure, you had already signed your story, but without Minho, would it even still exist? Both of your fates are broken now—if there even is one by the end of this.

You hoped the disappearing process would be painless because you really weren’t ready to experience suffering for something you didn’t ask for in the first place. A few seconds passed by as you waited for the inevitable.

But it never came.

Instead, you found yourself feeling nothing that was out of the ordinary. As you slowly raise your head to look at the situation, your eyes catch sight of Minho’s disapproving ones. In the short minute that you had that small breakdown, he had already stepped off the stage and was now proceeding to head away from the hall.

The look he gave you made your eyes burn in hot fury.

Is he serious? Why is he even disappointed? Can he really blame you for getting scared when he’s the one who put both of your lives in danger? You signed the book—you even signed it for him! All in an effort to make sure that both of your stories won’t vanish into thin air.

So what made him betray you like that?

Your clicking heels echoed loudly throughout the hallway as you walked briskly to follow his speedy figure. "Minho!" you called out to him, tone filled with frustration. Luckily, that seemed to halt his steps.

Finally catching up, you stopped just a few meters behind his back. The air was cold and lightly frosted over your warm skin. The once lively corridor was now bleak and seemed very unwelcoming. There was an unspoken hostility felt between you and Minho, as the two of you stood there for a moment—not saying anything. Something you had already expected.

What can you even say after all that?

Minho sighs in exasperation before turning around and facing you. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, refusing to venture to his face, which was carved with torment. You tried to reach your hand out to touch him, but he swatted your hand away gently. "...What do you want?"

You found your mind blanking for a moment after finally getting a better look at him. Minho looked ethereal at that moment, even through the show of his obvious pain. The moonlight suited him, you thought. It framed his whole being in its sparkling glow.

Nevertheless, it wasn't long until you remembered why you were in front of him in the first place.

"...Why?" you rasped out. All the previous events and emotions begin to flood back, overwhelming you beyond belief. "Why would you do that!?" you shrieked at him. Minho clenched his jaw at your words.

"You... you could've disappeared! I could've disappeared! What were you thinking—"

"But we didn't!" he yelled back. Your words immediately clumped up and stuck in your throat, unable to get out. "We didn't disappear! So I'm asking you now Y/N, what do you want?" Minho seethed.

What did you want? What else could you possibly want? All you wished for was to live properly and survive. But to achieve that in this world, he had to—

"Sign the book," you pleaded desperately. And even through the hurt gaze he set on you, you continued to try and reason with him.

"Please just sign the book. I'll do anything you want. You want to change your destiny, right? We can make it work! Do you perhaps want a throne? I'll give you mine willingly. You don't have to be thrown into the mirror prison," your voice was becoming shakier by the second from the intensity of the situation. "See? It's not really that hard, Minho! You could still change the events even if you signed the book. I know you're scared to live a life you don’t want, but—"

"When will you understand that it's not about me!?" he cried out.

The sheer amount of emotion in Minho's voice takes you by surprise. It was raw, and undoubtedly broken. His words pierced your heart sharply, and you inwardly winced as you felt the imaginary arrows sink deeper. Through the ache, you forced out a reply, "...Pardon?"

Minho hastily wiped the few tears that managed to escape, and said, "I don’t want a throne, and I'm not scared of going to that prison. In fact, with what they're expecting me to do, I really do deserve it! Just—just like my mother..."

He's... not? Then why go through all this trouble for a rebellion? He even appears to be willing to poison you—

"But I'm different from her. I don't want to hurt you," he added weakly, "Ever. I could never bring myself to do it, Y/N. And I knew if I signed that damned book, fate would somehow find a way for me to fulfill the story, even against my wishes. And... I can't have that."

"But what about the story now? If it disappears, we—"

"Oh please, Y/N. What are we doing right now, huh? Talking! We didn't disappear like all the legends used to say."

"But we still could!" you stubbornly retorted.

Minho huffed and rolled his eyes, "So what? I'd rather that happen than my story."

The frigid tension that formed between the two of you engulfed the whole space. At this point, you were sure that if someone were to walk in on the two of you, there was a good chance they would end up coughing ice.

"You don't mean that," you warned, glaring at him. "I know well that you aren't implying that you'd rather die than... live?" The words you uttered weighed heavy on your tongue.

He simply shrugged casually in response, "Why not? I have nothing to look forward to in my supposed future anyway. Unlike your kind who get all the happy endings, we're just here to make you guys look good—what? Don't look at me like that. You know damn well it's true," he scoffed venomously. "A lot of us don't even like our stories, but look at how we're forced to do it for you to live happily ever after."

His words set fire inside of you once again. How dare he assume you had it easy too? Maybe on paper it did—you could admit that. You were a protagonist and a royal, after all, destined to have a happy ending and live a lavish life. But you knew that if you closely examined the cards you'd been dealt with, it was far from the ideal storybook ending people made it out to be. You couldn't help but laugh at the irony.

"Do you really think I like my story too?" You questioned him with a wry chuckle. "Do you really think I want to be poisoned? Then get rescued by a prince who, mind you, doesn't even love me! And then say I have to marry him too? It's bad enough Hyunjin openly displays to the public that he doesn't have an ounce of care about my well-being, but he's even shoving it into my face that he already likes someone else! Tell me who in the world wants to be a second choice, let alone be cheated on?"

"Then you shouldn't have signed it."

His blunt words hit you like a truck. Finally feeling the crash of all the events that happened, you broke out into tears. The moonlight you praised him in earlier now serves as a humiliating reminder of what’s to come. Minho stares at your sobbing face one last time before walking away.

And all you could think about was how he could be right.

The bustling crowd of the school cafeteria is loud as always—but this time, there was a glaringly obvious tense atmosphere that followed everyone. You couldn’t help but sigh at the troublesome situation.

It's been a tough week for you in terms of your social life. The number of pitiful looks you've received, as well as "You can get through this," greetings from your fellow peers who played as protagonists, was astounding. On a normal day before, they would never have spared you a single glance unless they needed something. But now, you’ve practically become the center of their conversations.

And even at the very moment, you’ve got all their attention. One would think their stares were due to you wearing something obnoxious—but you were literally just trying to eat. You roll your eyes in annoyance.

So much for a good lunch.

"Maybe if you weren’t in such a critical situation right now, then they wouldn’t be eyeing you like a display," Seungmin commented from across the table. You threw some grains of rice towards him.

"Or, I don’t know, they could mind their own business?"

"As if that would ever happen," the son of the Queen of Hearts muttered. "They’d rather watch the world explode than pass on drama."

In a way, he was right. Storybook High was not just any normal school—it was also the center of gossip throughout the entire realm. As you were the next generation of citizens, the spotlight currently shines brightly on your generation.

Felix chuckled. "It’s funny to see how different the two sides view you." The reminder of the current unity status of the student body from the next Hansel (his mother is actually Gretel, but Felix’s cousin was a girl, so they agreed to switch) immediately sucked all the remaining life from your body. "The Royals pity you, while the Rebels are curious about where you stand."

The Royals and the Rebels.

Division between the student population had been at an all-time high ever since that little stunt Minho pulled on Legacy Day. What was once a peaceful crowd quickly developed into a dangerous war zone. Granted, the people’s divisions already existed even before the school was founded. The most obvious one was being sorted into "Protagonists," "Antagonists," and "Side Characters." But it looks like with the current rise in rebellion of teens who aren’t satisfied with their fates, a new division has arisen.

And it worsened with Minho’s refusal to sign his story.

You see, after the both of you left the hall to have your little "chat"—many of those who wanted to write a new destiny for themselves also refused to sign. These people, including Minho himself, are now classified as "Rebels." This placed them on the bad side of the (now called) "Royals", who wanted to follow their predetermined happily ever afters.

Not everyone opposing the Rebels is actually royalty, but the majority of them are. This was what earned the group's generalized title as "Royals." Although, some of the non-royalty protagonists took advantage of the opportunity to act like one. One of them is Yeri, Goldilocks' daughter—

"Hey Y/N!" You hear a familiar voice call out. Well, speak of the devil. Yeri happily rushes over to your current table, an action Hyunjin clearly did not appreciate. Oh, did you mention you were eating lunch with him? No? Good. He’s not that special anyway.

Deciding to be a decent person, you turned around and greeted the girl, "A pleasant day to you too, Yeri. What can I help you with?" Seungmin and Felix quickly followed up with their pleasantries, while Hyunjin only grunted as his greeting. If this jackass—

"Oh, yes certainly," she chirps joyfully. You kind of envy her personality. For being the next Snow White, you were nowhere near being as positive as your mother. You lightly smiled at Yeri for her to continue, "Well, you see, I’m writing a new scoop for my blog about Legacy Day! Could you be a dear and tell me what you think of what happened?"

Your smile vanishes in a flash.

Is this a joke? Why are they asking you, of all people? It’s either she’s completely clueless or this is a sick way of putting you down. The nerve of them to attempt to humiliate you like this.

Felix tries to intervene, seeing your reaction. "Yeri, actually—"

A sudden mocking laugh rang through your ears, successfully cutting Felix off. "Please, Yeri. You can interview me instead. Let’s leave little Snow White alone, yeah? She’s already dealing with so much!"

Seungmin didn’t even try to hide his distaste for the new face that entered the scene—a contrast to Hyunjin, who finally cracked a smile for the first time since he sat at the table.

Of course he would. The voice belonged to the one and only Mina. The daughter of the Swan Princess, now the Swan Queen.

Just great. What does she want now? You never knew what her problem was. She has always had a personal vendetta against you and is hellbent on making your life as miserable as possible. Not very successful, but bothersome nonetheless.

Right—she’s also the one dating Hyunjin. The awfully paired Prince Charming to your Snow White.

Your friends used to say that she was just jealous of you. And while there was a good percentage for that to be true, you personally think she’s just a shitty person in general. Her not-so-best reputation among the student body certainly backed that up. Her and Hyunjin suit each other, you thought to yourself.

"I’m so sorry, Y/N! I swear I didn’t mean to offend you," Yeri quickly apologized. Your head was slowly starting to hurt from all this dramatic nonsense. And unfortunately for you, Hyunjin finally decides to speak up, "Mina is right. Y/N must be having such a hard time, especially knowing her story might not happen anymore."

What the fuck. Is he for real?

Apparently he is, because he chose to leave your group at the table and walk away with the other two girls. Oh—would you look at that. Totally expected of him. You groaned as you rested your head on the lunch table.

"Why does he even decide to hang around us?" Seungmin scowled at Hyunjin’s retreating figure. "It’s not as if he likes any of us."

You poked at your tray with a spoon, "His parents probably forced him to because of me. Who knows, maybe they’re scary."

Hyunjin was… not necessarily a bad person. In the eyes of other people, he really wasn’t. He had a good reputation amongst your peers (a stark contrast to his girlfriend), and was often called the "ideal prince." Yet, for some reason you can’t understand, he was nothing less than a pain for you and your friends.

"Until now, I don’t get his issue. You haven’t been treating him half as bad as he does to you," Felix sips on his juice. "Is the idea of kissing you in a casket that nightmare inducing for him? You’re literally the one dying, Y/N."

From the very start, you knew Hyunjin did not like that he was the assigned prince to you. He never explained why though, and you always thought it was because, ironically, he likes apples. You’re honestly surprised he even signed his story! For the longest time, you believed he was going to end up siding with the Rebels.

Well, to be fair, he is still a prince destined for a happy ending—no matter the partner assigned to him. Maybe he also couldn’t give up the luxury. Or like you, believed that he would disappear too. All valid reasons in your book.

Speaking of Rebels, you lifted your head to look at Minho’s direction. You’ve noticed him sitting near the window since lunch started, and the sight of him alone made your heart ache with worry. From what you’ve seen, people have been avoiding him like the plague ever since the Legacy Day incident happened. Aside from when he was with his friends, all others who refused to sign their stories, Minho was seen on his own for the most part.

You were well aware that a lot of Royals had been badmouthing him intensely too. The complete opposite to the pity treatment you’ve been receiving, even though you knew they could care less. And to be honest, it’d be better if they actually acted that way instead.

"Jeez, look over there," Felix whispered. "A Royal table and a Rebel table are arguing."

How amusing. It looks like you really owe Minho an apology. He was right about most of the Royals. One of the only exceptions would probably be your friends and Jisung. He was genuinely worried enough to tell you that he was willing to be your prince instead, if Hyunjin (his best friend, by the way. How that happened, you would never know.) was ever planning on flaking out. You politely declined him, though. Your stories would clash too much. After all, he was the main protagonist of his own story too—being the son of the Frog Prince and all. The poor guy also had a massive hopeless crush on Pinocchio’s daughter.

Back to Minho, the two of you haven’t spoken for the past week. The dorm room both of you shared became too quiet, not a single word being uttered throughout the hours it was occupied. And whenever you did try to talk to him, he would simply ignore you, even leaving the room if it wasn't yet past curfew.

Maybe you should try it now?

"Hey," you tried to get your two friends’ attention, "Should I talk to Minho?"

Seungmin peeled his eyes away from the fight that was occurring a few tables away. "Go for it? You’ve been all mopey and sad for the past week. It’s about time you and him made up." Felix agreed with a short nod.

"Alright, wish me luck."

Deciding to test the waters, you stood up from your seat. The nerves are starting to form, and the words you wanted to say are lost in the sea of your thoughts once again. Taking a deep breath, you told yourself you could do it.

It was just Minho, after all. You two are close friends, right? Even though you’re supposed to be enemies in front of everyone else, of course. Talking to him shouldn’t be this hard. It’s all in your head, Y/N. You can do it.

Now—okay, maybe not.

As soon as you finally get the courage to move, you spot his friends approaching him. It looks like you lost your chance again. He would surely use his friends as an excuse to avoid you. Running your hand through your hair, you backed out of your plan right away and sat down.

Felix snorted, "Too late, huh?"

You’ll just have to talk to him soon.

Minho was not in class.

Normally, this fact wouldn’t bother you too much—but it was currently culinary class. His favorite class out of them all.

Other students knew of this fact too. And while they used to think it was because he was secretly determined to successfully poison you in the future, you knew that it was just because he genuinely liked cooking. So the mere fact that he wasn’t anywhere to be seen at that moment concerned you greatly.

Chan, your cooking partner for this session, took notice of your fidgety actions. "Are you okay?" he asked. "You look really anxious. Is it perhaps because of me?" His question surprised you.

What? Why would you be—oh. Chan was someone who sided with the rebels. He was good friends with Minho too, the two of them sharing the same sentiment of not wanting to be antagonists in anyone’s lives. You knew being told to be the next Big Bad Wolf hadn't been an easy task for him. And because you're technically a royal, he might be thinking you despise his guts as well.

"Oh, not at all! I’m so sorry... I’m just concerned about Minho," he hums at your answer. Taking out the chopping board, he replies, "Is it because he’s not here? Yeah, I could totally relate to your thought process. Shocked the heck out of me too, actually."

You nod aggressively, "Exactly! He never skips culinary class. There was this one time when he was having such a bad headache, yet still insisted on attending this class for that day."

In general, it was quite unlikely for Minho to skip any classes at all. He was someone who valued education and was very vocal about it. That, and something about not wanting to act like his mother when she was still in school. Minho was determined to be a model student, proving to others that he was nowhere near evil.

"Yeah, it sounds like him alright," Chan says, laughing. "Who knows? Maybe he’s just really tired today." You think carefully about his words.

It was a reasonable guess, but Minho? Too tired to cook? Unheard of! Unless he’s really sick and can’t attend the class because of the health protocols. He seemed okay this morning, though? Sure, you can’t really tell since the both of you haven’t interacted in a while (you should really try talking to him again, it’s been 3 days since the cafeteria attempt), and you only had this class together for this year—

Wait a minute.

You only shared culinary class with him this year? He—he couldn’t have avoided this class because it was the only class you two had together, right? He wouldn’t go as far as skipping his favorite class just to avoid you?

News flash, Y/N. He totally could. And that’s most likely what happened.

You huffed at the pettiness of the idea. If he doesn’t want you to convince him to sign the book that badly, then you won’t! Like it’d even matter at this point. Too much damage has already been done.

The look on your face must’ve been clear as day, because you hear Chan sigh from beside you. You flushed in embarrassment. While chopping the carrot, Chan decides to break the silence. "You think he’s avoiding you, huh?" he said, as you gave him a short nod. "Did he tell you that?"

"No, not really," you awkwardly responded. "We—we haven’t been talking."

Chan starts aggressively chopping, "Minho, that idiot. I told him to talk to you!" You stopped steering the soup you two were working on. The volume of his sigh worsened. You couldn’t help but snicker at his obvious stress.

"That guy really," he said, finishing up. "Don’t worry, Y/N. He’ll come around soon. He just needs more time to think."

Time to think... He had a point. Maybe you needed time to think too.

For the past few days, you’ve been really preoccupied with the relationship between you and Minho, along with the growing suspicion that the Royals were starting to outcast you (their pity phase must be over now). Because of that, you haven’t had the luxury of really thinking about everything. From the events that happened on Legacy Day to figuring out what you actually believed in—there was still a lot to unpack.

But before you could completely immerse yourself in your mind, panicked squeals diverted your attention to the cooking booth right beside Chan and yours—where two of your classmates were rummaging around in an attempt to stop the boiling pot from spilling over.

"Uh, hey Chan, can you help?" Changbin, the Mad Hatter’s son, awkwardly calls out. Right beside him was a malfunctioning Jeongin, seemingly under more stress than the former. Chan’s eyes widened, "What did you even do?"

"It was Jeongin’s idea!" Changbin whined to your partner. The mentioned guy protests, "It was clearly a joke! I didn’t think you would actually do it!"

Ah—the son of the Cheshire Cat causes mischief once again.

Groaning, Chan turns to look at you. "Sorry Y/N, can you handle the soup first? I’ll just help them real quick," you give him a thumbs up, "Thanks. Just put the ones I chopped in the pot, then stir until cooked." You did exactly as you were told. While waiting for the soup to cook, you decided to take the opportunity and start what you should’ve done earlier.

First of all, Legacy Day.

At first, you were terrified that Minho had finalized his stance that he wouldn’t follow his story. All your life, you were led to believe that following one’s destiny was the only way to continue living. You never questioned it as a result—it was quite straightforward anyway. Signing the Book of Legends was a life or death situation. And as a young child, disappearing so early in life was not the most appealing concept.

But that belief was shattered on Legacy Day, along with the magic mirrors that surrounded the hall. You and Minho didn’t fade away. Heck, even Hyunjin didn’t fade away, and he was supposed to be tied to both of your stories too!

So what does that mean to you?

Simple. Your life was a lie.

The whole "follow the destiny given to you" was full of crap, and you can’t believe you let yourself be trapped in that mindset for too long. In the first place, you never even wanted to be the next Snow White. No matter how many times your parents made the concept sound appealing, you just never understood the reason why you had to be poisoned and then saved by a prince. With a kiss too? Magic existed here, yes, but was that really enough to get rid of literal poison?

Plus, if the kiss needed to be from true love, then you were damned from the start—there was no way Hyunjin would end up loving you enough for that to work. And you’d really rather not touch his plump lips. If you did, Mina just might stab you in your casket, successfully killing you for a second time in a row.

It’d be "Snow White: Bad Ending" for that one.

If you really thought about it, the only other reason you signed the book was for Minho. Aside from your own life, you cared a lot about his too. Minho was your best friend, your partner, and an overall important person to you. If him living meant you had to throw away your freedom, then so be it. You won’t let Minho vanish from this world wrongfully.

You loved him too much for that.

Love. Certainly, a strong word. You still don’t know what kind of love you held for the son of the Evil Queen exactly, but you knew you did love him. Did he feel the same too? You hoped so. If his words from Legacy Day spoke any truth, then he did care about you a lot. What he did contradicted your survival plan for the both of you, but from his point of view, it was also his way of protecting you and him.

So then, where do you stand?

It’s—it’s hard to decide at the moment. On one hand, you had the life you were conditioned to have growing up, and on the other hand, it was where you could be free. Saying it was comfort versus your dream would be an understatement. And while you wanted to dream as much as the Rebels did, that life hasn’t been proven to be very stable yet in your eyes.

Maybe you could just wait a bit more to choose. You wanted to talk to Minho first and see what he had to say. But so far—you think you might be on the verge of regretting ever signing your fate.

"Uh... Y/N," Chan said, tapping your shoulder and jolting you out of your thoughts. "The soup might be cooked already."

You gasped, "Oh, right! My bad, Chan." He waved away your apology, "Nah, it’s all good. Just turn the fire off and I’ll plate the soup." He started placing the bowls down.

Glancing over at Changbin and Jeongin’s side, you just now realized they were gone. "What did they go?" you ask. Chan grimaced at his friends’ situation. "Got called by the teacher. They’re probably getting scolded outside." You cringed.

"That’s… unfortunate."

Culinary class ended not long after.

The regret of having signed the book was getting stronger, alright.

Walking down the school corridors, the difference between the Royals and the Rebels suddenly seems more evident to your observing eyes. It was the hour right after the last classes ended, meaning everyone would be gathered in the halls. Students were all leaving classrooms, organizing their lockers, and conversing with friends—something you couldn’t do because Seungmin had choir practice, while Felix was off to the library.

In all your eighteen years of living, never once have you felt as painfully uncomfortable as at this very moment. It was like someone had pulled the blindfold that you had been forced to wear all the way back to when you were still a kid.

So what was this jarring difference between the two sides, you asked?

The Royals were unapologetically shitting on the Rebels while the latter minded their own business. How surprising, right? And even with people hovering over their backs for the most part, they were still the ones with wide smiles and exciting chatter—meanwhile the opposite side that was too busy pampering themselves, still found the time and need to sneer at any Rebel who passed by. You winced at their actions, genuinely ashamed.

God forbid that you had acted like they did before. Even though you knew you weren’t half as bad as them because of befriending Minho, there was still a big chance you had those moments unconsciously. And you hated that thought. It’s absolutely detestable! Downright vile! The Rebels just wanted their chances of living happily ever after too. What was so wrong with that?

It was at that moment that you realized that the influence ran deep. That there was some sort of ‘worthy’ and ‘not worthy’ mindset that plagued the protagonists’ side of the division—even through the peace that you thought the school had before. As someone who was also exposed to that lifestyle since you were born, you could see where they were coming from, but at the same time, you were highly repulsed by the thought. The list of things you wanted to tell Minho grew longer by the second you stayed in this hallway.

You sped away from the scene, deciding to head to the school balconies. You figured studying with a good view would keep your thoughts at bay for a while. If you spent another minute in the midst of all that, you would probably end up choosing to resign your crown at the next possible moment. And you didn’t want to do something too life-changing impulsively. Turning the corner to reach your destination, the sudden sight caught you off guard.

It was Hyunjin and Mina. Making out in broad daylight, without shame.

They were hidden by the pillars that stood as support for the entryway of the balconies. But you could still see them very clearly from where you stood. You doubt they could see you, though. Whether it was because you were well hidden, or they were too engrossed in sucking each other's faces—you really didn’t want to know.

Admittedly, there was a part of you that wanted to earn Hyunjin’s affection. He was to be your husband, after all. It was only natural to want a marriage with love, or at the very least, respect. But out of everything, you could never blame Hyunjin for liking someone else. You even supported him, even if his girlfriend was someone who you could never stand to be in the same room with. Anyone should be able to love who they want to, as well as marry who they want to, responsibly. Not some nonsense book about those who came before you—

Holy shit. Your life is so fucked.

You were the one being told who to love and marry by that book. The one whose life is to be lived and told through a script. The situation you were trapped in had never been clearer than at this very moment, and it crashed on you like that one little pig’s pile of bricks.

Silent tears flowed out of your eyes as you thought of the future. Happily ever after, your ass. You're going to be married to an asshole who can’t even respect you as a prospective wife who’s in the same boat as him, and would rather choose someone else over you! Not to mention, he has to bring you back from the dead first—what if he takes the chance and just leaves you to rot? Where's the happy ending in that?

Through a watery vision, you noticed your sight suddenly dimming as you felt a hand softly wrap around your eyes, blocking your view of the couple. The sudden force caused your back to collide against a strong chest. A sudden action, but you didn’t scream. Because you recognized that scent right away.

"You big baby. If you hate it that much, why’d you sign the book?"

It’s Minho.

God, you missed his voice. It feels like it’s been forever. Feeling the relief of having him close again on top of your devastation for the future, you felt yourself starting to cry harder. He sighed at your tears, deciding to drag you away from the balconies.

"Seriously, Y/N. You have to stop pining after him. It’s not even worth it," he snarkily comments. While messily wiping your tears, you let out a small laugh. "I’m not." You both came to a stop in the middle of an empty corridor.

Finally, he turns to face you. Rolling his eyes playfully, he started wiping the remaining tears from your face. "You are such a big baby," he says, to which you slap his chest lightly, "I’m not!"

He squished your cheeks in response to your protest. "Look at you, saying the same thing over and over again like a child," he cooed. Slapping his chest more strongly, he coughed out a wail of complaint.

"What? So you're finally deciding to talk to me now?" You glared at him. Those words seemed to get through to Minho, because he started rubbing the nape of his neck awkwardly.

Diverting eye contact, he replies, "Yeah, about that—I’m really sorry."

You looked at him, not convinced in the slightest. "Did Chan talk to you?" you asked. The guy did say he told Minho to talk to you. Maybe Minho finally took his advice after another round of suggestions.

It turns out the answer to your question looked like a no, because he seemed genuinely confused at what you said. "... No? Why?"

Shaking your head, you waved him off. But Minho, being Minho, decided to dig deeper into the topic. "Did you two talk about me? What did you say?" he pressed further. Glaring at him, you pushed past him and started walking down the corridor. He trailed you like a lost puppy.

"Y/N, come on," he says, grabbing your waist and pulling you both to a halt. The gesture left you absolutely speechless. "What’d you say about me, hm?" he whispered in your ear.

Feeling steam rushing out of your ears, you immediately pulled away. He laughs at your flustered face. "Why would you—what?" You started rambling more random words, "Minho!"

"Yes, that’s me," he jested. After seeing the amusement on his face, you quickly composed yourself. What is up with him today? Sure, he was normally playful, but not like this! You don’t think this Minho was good for your heart—if the way it was racing indicated anything severe.

Minho crossed his arms, frowning a bit. "Why are you so secretive about it? Did you both talk shit about me?" he raised an eyebrow in suspicion. You shook your head to deny his claim, "Not at all. We just talked about why you weren’t in culinary class earlier." His shoulders seemed to sag in relief.

It's not like you’d ever talk bad about him in the first place.

"Ah that," he started, "I was called to the principal’s office." The revelation has you startled. Why was he called in there? Are they expelling him? No way! They can’t do that! That’s absurd—

At your alarmed reaction, he immediately grabbed your shoulders and assured you, "Hey, hey. It’s not anything bad, I promise, okay?" He waited until you were able to compile your thoughts. You gazed into his eyes to see if he was telling the truth. And just as he said, his pretty eyes held no lies.

"Then... why were you called then?" you asked. He visibly cringed at the question. Upon seeing his response, you quickly connected the dots and trapped him in a tight hug. Minho was not someone who made a big deal of most things that happened, so earning this kind of reaction from him could mean one thing: "Did—did they make you talk to her?"

His head dipping into the crook of your neck weakly was enough to tell you that your assumption had been correct. The school had pulled out the mirror that the Evil Queen was imprisoned in and made him talk to her. This now showed the school’s stance on the issue to you.

They were not taking Minho’s rebellion positively in the slightest.

Pulling him closer, you comforted him in the same way you’ve done multiple times before. As one would have deduced from seeing this side of Minho, he and his mother did not have a good relationship. She was the face of evil, someone who was truly rotten to the core. Minho wanted to be nothing like her. And he damn made sure of that. Unlike her, Minho was determined to live as a good citizen of the magical world. That alone made him stronger than most of the heroes you knew.

He started shifting in your embrace. You instantly knew he was about to say something. "Y/N, can you answer me seriously?" he asked softly. Nodding, you kept holding him. "Why did you actually sign the book?"

You paused for a moment, thinking about your true answer seriously. The two of you had to have this talk sooner or later. It was the main source of your conflict, the reason for all the days spent avoiding each other. Not addressing it would just be pushing aside the topic until it explodes again. So you prepared yourself for what's to come.

"I didn’t want to lose you."

Your honest words infuriated Minho, "So you’re willing to live a life you don’t want just so I won’t disappear!?" He pulled away from your embrace. You could only look at him with blank eyes. What could you even say to that? Correcting him would not do anything.

Because he was completely right.

"Why are you mad? You’re also the one who refused to sign the book because you would rather die than hurt me," you pointed out the hypocrisy behind his words. "You were so willing to sacrifice yourself so that I could live safely. So why can’t I do that too?"

"Y/N, that’s not the same—"

"I told you we could have still made it work even if we both signed the book. You know that too."

"You know I can’t—"

"Why?" you whimpered, feeling the dam of your tears starting to break once again. This was way too many mood swings in a day for your liking. You don’t think you could take any more crying after this. "Just like you’re afraid of fate tying you to end up hurting me, I’m scared of it taking you away from me too! So tell me, what exactly is the difference, Minho?"

This got him to think for a second, the gears in his head turning and twisting to make sense of what you had just uttered. And when he finally reached a conclusion, his eyes widened in shock. It looks like you have both finally reached common ground.

It was his turn to hug you tightly now, frantically apologizing for the way he acted. "You're such an idiot," you muttered into his chest. He simply agreed with you. "I’m sorry too."

"I know. I already forgive you."

"And I’m sorry for Legacy Day. The thought that you could disappear at any moment and I’d never see you again blinded me. I wasn’t even thinking twice about what I was saying at the moment. I—I also didn’t want to go," you sniffled. "It’s just that I really believed that we had to sign to—"

"You don’t have to explain. It’s okay, I understand now." Minho shushed you. "I was in the wrong too. Emotions just got to the best of me, so I lashed out. I’ve had time to think though, and you just gave me another realization earlier too."

The both of you simply wanted the best for the other in the only way you knew how. Unfortunately, your methods were completely different. But that doesn’t change the fact that all you both wished for was each other's safety, and this was just one big misunderstanding.

"Are we okay now?" You asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

And that was all you needed to hear.

The same night Minho was called to the principal’s office, your parents contacted you through your mirror phone—demanding that you convince Minho to change his mind. You were so tired from the flurry of emotions you went through for the day that you merely responded that you would, not even meaning what you said.

That seemed to please them, though, since they immediately said goodbyes with their usual overly affectionate tone—which, after your big realization, sounded a lot more artificial than you remembered.

Great. Now you’re even questioning your own parents’ love.

Your exhausted groan simply received a raised eyebrow from Minho, who was minding his own business at his side of the room. "Looks like you’ll be back to convincing me to be your Evil King again?" he snickered in the background.

Flopping (not-so-gracefully) on your bed, you let out a whine of annoyance. "No, but I don’t want to deal with them right now."

Minho hums in agreement, "I don’t blame you. Seeing as you cried two times in the span of 30 minutes earlier," his joking tone was not lost on you, however, so you just laughed the comment off.

"Fuck you, really."

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. After directing an eye roll towards him, you stood up to enter the bathroom. "Since when did you curse?" he inquires excitedly, like a kid asking if they could buy something. You reached for the toothpaste, "I actually curse a lot in my mind. I just don’t use it out loud because they told me that it was unbecoming of a princess to do so." He couldn’t see you, but you were making that air quote gesture.

"Use it more around me, it sounds nice."

"It's foul words, Minho," you said, voice muffled by the toothpaste foam, "And I doubt it actually sounds nice."

When silence was all you got back, you scoffed in annoyance. He was so petty at times. You took a bit more time in the bathroom, doing what was needed for your night routine. Minho hasn’t made a noise for a while now, so you let yourself think he’s knocked out cold. After rinsing your mouth one last time, you get ready to leave the bathroom.

You really should’ve seen what was coming.

"Boo," Minho says, suddenly appearing right beside you. You quickly suppressed the urge to scream in consideration of the rooms right beside yours. Irritated, you yell, "What the hell!"

Unbeknownst to you, that was his plan all along.

"Another swear!" Oh, of course he would. You wanted to be mad, but found your anger dissipating instead. The sparkle in his eyes, hearing you curse once again, was too adorable for you to stand.

Minho spent the rest of the night teaching you more swear words. It was unnecessary, but you let him do it. You have been waiting to talk to him for days now—and you surely won’t let this go to waste.

The next couple of days were an absolute nightmare, though. Good things come with a price, you guess. This had to be the world’s way of making you pay back the luck you spent in trying to reconcile with Minho.

Mina has been constantly going after you again, with a passion to humiliate your whole being. Other Royals have been pulling you aside to ask for updates on Minho’s decision to sign the book, to which you only politely smiled at them and left. Oh, if you could only sneer back at them like they’d been doing to him. But with the little restraint you had left, you remembered that most of the student body didn’t actually know you and Minho were good friends (it was Minho’s idea back in second grade—something about you not getting targeted).

And above all that, you had your parents spamming your mirror phone every hour of the day to remind you about the task they gave you. No matter how many times you told them that Minho would not be changing his mind, they kept on insisting.

"No one would say no to you, Y/N! You’re the next Snow White!" your mother states, as if that would change anything at all. Your eye felt the need to twitch as her reminder. "He won’t. Plus, you’re the one who told me not to befriend him. Now you expect him to go along with what I say?" you reasoned.

"This isn’t a yes or no situation, darling. He has to do it."

No he doesn’t.

"Enough, mom. It won’t happen," you tried to keep your tone as respectful as possible. "I have a class soon; let’s talk some other time."

"Applebun—" you hung up the phone.

Gripping the device tightly, you let your locker close with a bang. Multiple eyes turn in your direction. You gave them an apologetic gesture. Shoot—if you don’t control your emotions soon, it’s going to affect you in class.

"Oh? Did little Snow White just have a tantrum? How disappointing that I missed it," Mina’s shrill voice rang through the halls. Her heels are loudly clicking against the floor, cutting you from your thoughts. She really never misses a beat, huh? It was annoying, but you had to praise her for her consistency.

Pasting on a practiced grin, you faced her. "Good day to you too, Mina. Looks like Hyunjin isn’t with you right now," you commented. "Did he finally get tired of you?"

You fought the urge to snicker as soon as you saw the effect this had on her. With a huff, she replies, "He has something to do right now but will meet me for lunch. Right, did he not tell you? We’re eating lunch together from now on. He doesn’t really want to be seen with you anymore." Oh, a decent insult!

Deciding to keep the retort to yourself, you just shrugged it off nonchalantly. "Good for both of you. Have fun!" you cheerfully responded, before walking past her.

"Wha—you!"

Y/N-1, Mina-0. You mentally counted.

Turning the corner, you spot Minho leaning against the wall, back hunched from silently wheezing. "Seriously," you exhaled, "Why are you suddenly everywhere now?" After finishing his quick laughing fit, he turned to look at you.

"She deserved it," he commented. You stared at him, unamused. "Of course you would think that." You felt a few gazes directed at the two of you.

Right, this might be an odd sight for them.

If you think about it, what's the point of hiding now? Minho won’t sign his fate, so yours might have been changed. So, does that mean you can be friends in public now too? Should you test it out?

"Y/N, are you alright?" Minho worried.

You eyed your surroundings carefully. This could end up badly if you don’t do it correctly. There was a big chance either that Minho’s reputation could worsen, or the Royals would decide to hate you—ah fuck it.

They can go cry about it if they want.

Grabbing his hand, you started leading the both of you down the halls. He looked at you in shock, "Wait, what are you doing?" The Royals, who saw your exchange, left their mouths open like a gaping fish. On the other hand, you noticed the Rebels' eyes light up with interest. Minho also spotted this, but before he could say anything else, you dragged him away faster.

"Don’t mind them. Let’s just head to class. It’s culinary."

And while you felt significantly lighter at that moment from the burden of hiding your relationship with Minho being off your shoulders, the consequences followed up soon after.

By the time the moon said its greetings, your parents had already heard of what happened. Whoever snitched worked fast. But at least you now have the opportunity to tell them the truth about you and Minho.

Your parents’ lectures engulfed the whole room while Minho sat beside you for emotional support. "What are you doing, making friends with the enemy? Do you have any ounce of shame!?" Your father’s booming voice was heard.

Maybe you really don’t have any shame. You were so grateful that they even chose to voice call instead of a video chat—if your parents saw Minho holding your hand beside you whilst glaring at the window in an attempt to still leave respect for them, they would have freaked past no return.

"I knew the school shouldn’t have placed both of you together in one room. Nothing good was ever going to come out of that situation," your mother ranted. Is she really saying that now? She was the one who told you it was natural to be dormmates with Minho back then. Then again, it wasn’t the first time she changed her mind when the result didn't benefit her.

After a short pause, she spoke up again, "What? So you’re not answering now? Oh, honey! That guy is such a bad influence. How did we let this happen?"

Could they not? They talk as if they’ve already met him!

Feeling Minho give your hand a squeeze, you got the courage to speak up. "...You don’t know him. He’s nothing like his mother, so stop saying that," your unsteady voice spoke. Answering back to your parents was never an easy thing for you to do. "Minho’s a great—uh, friend. He helped me realize that there was so much more than just trapping yourself in a predetermined future. I actually—I don’t even want to be Snow White..."

Your parents were silenced by what you had just said. "What do you mean you don’t want to be Snow White? Why not? Your life is already set for you! You’ll marry Hyunjin too—"

"Hyunjin already has a girlfriend. I’m not sure how you two never knew that, but he doesn’t even like me! Like, at all! Good for you that your pairing worked out well, but I’ve tried for years to get him to respect me even as a friend—but it never happened, and probably never will," you desperately explain.

"At this point, I’d rather marry Minho!"

The person mentioned visibly stiffened up beside you, the hand holding yours tightening. You felt your face flush in embarrassment. In the heat of the moment, you blurted out your thoughts carelessly. You hoped this wouldn’t cause a rift in your relationship with him again, because you’re not too sure if you can handle another week of Minho ignoring you.

But you meant what you said.

That’s right. You would rather marry Minho than some ‘ideal prince’ who can’t even treat you like a decent person.

In fact, married life with Minho doesn’t sound bad at all! If anything, you were actually willing to do it if he agreed. It was something you had considered before—a few years back, when you had a massive crush on him. Perhaps the crush never even went away like you had thought. You might have just gotten used to him to the point that what you felt evolved from just a crush to comfort and trust. Who could blame you, really? He’s kind, fun, knows you well, can cook, and is even handsome. He could easily be one of the top Prince Charmings in this school if given the chance.

"I know you just want the best for me—or even if you don't, I can’t find myself caring anymore. But basically, what I think is best for me is not marrying Hyunjin, or being Snow White," you spoke. "I’m already eighteen. Can I please have the chance to choose for myself? Minho won’t sign the Book of Legends either way, so my story might not even turn out the same."

"Choose your own destiny? You already have a good one—"

"Honey," your mother interjects, "It's a scary world out there. There will be lots of people who want to hurt you!"

You sigh, "Yes, Mom, I know. And I’ll figure something out along the way. But can’t you stop to think that maybe those same people didn’t have any other choice because they were bound to the fate they signed? They deserved the right to choose who they truly wanted to be too."

There was the sound of shifting from the other line. You knew your parents would be hard to convince, but it was worth a shot. This was for the better. It would be great if they managed to spread awareness to the older generation as well.

"Your father and I will think about it," you hear your mother cough. Hope sparked inside you. "Thank you, Mom."

"Sure, sweetie. Talk to you soon."

The line falls flat after that.

Exhausted from the mental gymnastics you had to perform, you immediately melt into Minho’s shoulder. When he doesn’t say anything, you finally realize that he hasn’t moved an inch since you said you’d rather marry him than your assigned prince. "Minho?" you nudged.

He finally snaps out of the trance he trapped himself in, but chooses to stare at you silently. You tilt your head in confusion and ask, "Are you alright?"

"... Marriage?" he squeaked out.

Oh. Does he not like the idea of marrying you?

You sulked. Sure, you weren’t exactly what they called wife material. Growing up as royalty meant you had other people to do things for you. However, you also prided yourself on being a quick learner. If Minho wants someone that knows how to do house chores, then you are more than willing to learn!

He must have noticed your mood going down, because he started panicking. "No—I, uh, didn’t mean it... like that," he reasoned, "I was just caught off guard! People don’t really look at me and think that I’d make a good husband, y’know?"

You slapped his arm harshly. He complained almost instantly at the pain.

"You absolute liar! You’d rival Hyunjin’s rank easily if you were classified as a Prince Charming," you huffed in protest. He turns red at the compliment. Feeling accomplished but wanting to mess with him more, you decided to add: "Don’t sign up for Prince classes though."

Offended, he retorts, "Why not? You just told me I’d be a good prince!"

"I want you to be my prince only," you replied in a casual tone.

Minho’s face burned even brighter.

There was definitely a difference in the way the Royals treated you the next day. Word travels fast, but their attitudes switch up faster. It wasn’t like you really cared. Most of them chose to avoid you completely, while some were very vocal about their newfound hatred towards you.

And as you predicted, Mina was the ringleader of the latter group.

"How interesting, isn’t it, Y/N? Snow White and the Evil King, together?" She approached you at your locker, "Do you have a death wish or something? Or maybe your standards have just fallen so low?"

You didn’t want to waste your words on her, so you preoccupied yourself with fixing your textbooks. It’s no use anyway. Anything you say will just go in one ear and out the other when it comes to her. However, that reaction didn’t seem to satisfy her enough because she poked at you further.

"So we’re right then? Ah, but I must say, you two make such a great couple! Two poor souls who lost their stories. How tragic," you clenched your teeth to avoid accidentally laying a hand on her, because that would just cause unnecessary drama. "You’re still lucky to be alive. I wonder how long it’s going to take before life gives up on both of you—either way, it looks like fate already did."

You slammed your locker closed, making a startling noise. Mina jumped at your actions before quickly composing herself to appear more confident. You’ve had enough of her antics.

"Did anyone ever tell you how annoying your voice is? No? Oh, well. Can you just do us all a favor and shut up? You never even say anything important, so just save your breath for something that’s actually worth it."

"I’m sorry?"

"Not forgiven. But it’s about time you apologized," you sassed.

Mina’s face flushed with anger. Threateningly raising her arm, she aimed to hit you. "You’re nothing now, Y/N. So learn your place—" you shut your eyes instinctively, waiting for the impact.

As much as you wanted to fight back physically, you were currently at a major disadvantage with the school now that you’ve exposed your friendship with Minho. They’ve most likely classified you as a threat now too. It was better to take the slap and leave Mina with the bigger accountability to deal with.

You waited for it, but the slap never came.

"Mina, you are so pathetic. Do you know that?" A voice you knew very well spoke. "Have some shame and look at your actions, will you. Is all of it worth it?" You opened your eyes.

"Get your hands off my girl, Minho," Hyunjin arrived growling while trying to get in between the two. Minho released the grip he had on Mina’s arm. Scoffing, he responded, "Now you’re here too? Tell us, won't you, Hyunjin? How long will you keep defending her actions? She’s going to end up severely hurting someone if this continues." Hyunjin started shifting uncomfortably.

He should know better than to let this continue. Mina isn’t a notorious bully, but she should learn to be more responsible for her actions. Sooner or later, her attitude might be her greatest downfall. Mina glared hotly at Minho, absolutely livid.

In the midst of the two’s humiliation, you noticed a crowd around the four of you. You were glad to know that they have nothing else to do than eavesdrop on any kind of drama. But before you could speak out to the impromptu audience, a blinding flash suddenly stole all the attention. You spotted Yeri standing in the front of the group, shaking with wide eyes while holding her mirror phone up.

Did she just take a photo?

Quickly realizing the situation, Hyunjin dragged a still fuming Mina away. Minho noticed this and yelled, "Get back here!" You quickly pull him back before he ends up chasing after them. "What—Y/N!"

"Leave it."

"What do you mean leave it—no? They’ve crossed so many lines," he seethed in anger. Seeing the crowd still present, you decide to escape as well. "We’ll deal with it some other time. But first, let’s get out of here."

You found yourself dragging Minho down the hall again like yesterday. Only this time, he was burning with fury. It wasn’t always that you got to witness him being this mad. Normally, he calms down faster than he becomes agitated. You were embarrassed to admit that you found Minho's rage attractive.

The two of you entered the lawns of the school garden, where you decided to stop and let him cool down. Minho was still huffing in quiet anger at the two schoolmates you encountered earlier.

"Stop frowning," you said, pinching his cheeks. Minho growls, not appreciating the gesture. It looks like he’s still in a bad mood. Not wanting to make it worse, you slowly let go of him.

Turns out he did not like that, though, because he quickly catches one of your hands and presses it back to the side of his face. "Why did you not fight back? You handled her so well before." The gesture made your heart swell.

"If my parents are now aware that we’re not actually on bad terms, then the school must be too," you sighed, "Adding the fact that I’ve already told them I don’t want to follow my story, if things escalated to the point where we had to be called in earlier, they’re definitely going to side with Mina."

"Is this about me again? You signed the book; it was me who didn’t—"

"I regret it."

Minho spluttered at your words, "Wait, what?" You avoided his surprised eyes. This was something you hadn’t told him yet. Well, anyone yet—you only came to the conclusion last night while talking to your parents.

"I know you said you didn’t want to be Snow White, but you never said you regretted signing," he says. You hugged your arms, "I never said I really wanted to either. It was just something I thought was a necessity. But now that it’s been proven the whole sign or die thing was a big hoax, I wish I hadn’t."

You looked at Minho, greatly troubled. "Honestly? I’m scared. I know I’ve been saying that since you won’t sign anyway, my story won’t happen the way it was supposed to—but just like everything else, we don’t know if that’s even true too," you bit your lip in distress, "What if fate just replaces your role with another person? Did I really trap myself in a scripted future?"

All the flaws in your previous plan started to surface without mercy. It could work in another timeline, one where Minho had signed the book. But seeing that he hasn’t, what happens to you now? Would the legacy just adjust and take Minho out of it completely? Is that what they actually meant by your story disappearing?

Will you somehow end up forgetting Minho?

The mere thought of that alone terrorizes you. A life without Minho would be meaningless by your standards. He was the person who brought color to your monochrome life of royalty and bettered you as a person. Forgetting him would be equivalent to going back to that way of living.

"Y/N," Minho called out softly. The sea of your thoughts were raging with all sorts of negativity, making his heart ache for you. "Like you said, we’ll find a way even if you sealed your fate, okay? I’ll be here with you every step of the way."

"But what if—"

"None of that," he said firmly. "I’m not leaving you alone, whether you like it or not."

You exhaled, trying to calm yourself. He’s right. The two of you can still be together if you really want to. Fate can just suck it up and deal with it.

Fuck being Snow White anyways.

"I hate apples," you grumbled. Minho laughs at your remark, knowing exactly what you meant. "I know. So you don’t have to be Snow White around me," he cups your face gently.

"Just be my Y/N."

"What do you mean the Book of Legends was stolen!?" A loud yell full of disbelief was heard throughout the entire cafeteria. The whole area went dead silent faster than the prideful hare. You stopped scooping up your food midway, watching as Seungmin and Felix both look at each other with wide eyes.

What?

"Changbin, seriously!" Jeongin’s mortified voice echoed in the quiet room. The students were all frozen in their respective spots, trying to process the information that had just dropped on them. What was supposed to be a normal lunch suddenly transformed into a time of anxiety.

"... Are you for real?" Someone asked the two troublemakers. "This isn’t another prank, right? Cause that’s not a good thing to joke about," they said icily.

The Book of Legends is missing? What madman would have the courage to do such a risky thing? That book is the center of this world—a relic if one must say. To harm it would most likely result in a mass extinction of people!

A crash was heard a few meters from where you sat. Someone had fainted and knocked the whole table over. Multiple people were trying to help the unconscious student out of the mess.

"I—uh, well..." Jeongin started. All eyes were on the guy as he stood there, fidgeting nervously. Deciding to get it over with, he cleared his throat and continued, "I was passing by the Principal’s office and overheard it..."

Cue chaos.

Murmurs of panic covered the whole cafeteria. Everyone was worried about what could possibly happen if the book was ever in the wrong hands.

It was a powerful object that could change lives in an instant. Fate and legacy are strong concepts in this world, after all. They're literally the foundation of your society.

"Is this really happening?" Felix said, looking very queasy. Seungmin scooted away from him instantly. "Control yourself, Felix. You don’t want to puke right now."

"Who could have done it?" You thought out loud, "And why? There’s nothing to gain from taking the book, right? Unless you’re a psychopath who wants to destroy the world."

Seungmin looks at you appalled. "Why are you thinking about mass murder?"

"I don’t know! There’s literally no other reason to steal the book! It’s not as if you can erase the signatures of those who... signed…" A realization hit the three of you.

Felix gasped in shock. "Is that even possible?" He questioned. Seungmin considered the idea. "There’s magic here, Felix. Technically, anything is possible."

"But the worst thing is that it might not even stop there," he added. "There may be a loophole in which you can sign another person’s story and make it yours." The idea concerned you heavily.

Could that actually happen? So then what would happen to the ones who got their original story stolen? Wait, if this is allowed, then that would make the entire concept of having a story assigned at birth useless—you could literally just pick one to sign at Legacy Day!

There must be more to this than you originally thought. And it wasn’t looking too good. "It’s not lining up," you muttered.

"What isn’t?"

"The Book of Legends," you lowered your voice, "I’ve never thought of it like that before, but you might be onto something Seungmin."

Felix gave you a confused look. "Like he said, it really is technically possible for someone to follow another story than theirs. If that’s a thing, then why have an assigned destiny for each one of us in the first place?" You pointed it out to them.

The two were startled by the revelation. You were right. There would be absolutely no need for an assigned fate if anyone could just choose what they wanted—heck, the Book of Legends might not even be needed at all.

The right to choose what future they wanted for themselves has been the main thing the Rebels fought for, and knowing the school was against it (basing off the actions they took against Minho), the same place the Book of Legends was kept and handled, what could this mean for the truth?

The pressing question now is: what exactly is the Book of Legends, and why are we told to follow only those stories that are in the book?

"This is making me doubt everything," Seungmin mumbles. You gulped as you looked at the still fear-stricken cafeteria.

"You should."

Later that night, you found yourself unable to sleep due to the plaguing thoughts from events that unfolded earlier. There had to be an explanation for all this, you thought.

The white ceiling on your side of the room looked very interesting to you at that moment. It was also very useful, seeing as you could make an imaginary conspiracy board on it. You don’t know what time it was currently, but you found yourself unable to care.

A messy rustling of sheets was heard over on Minho’s side of the room. You decided to look over in mere curiosity. Like you, he was also comfortably tucked in bed, staring at the ceiling. It looks like both of you can’t sleep.

"A lot on your mind?" He starts the conversation. You nod against your plush pillows. "Thinking about lunch earlier this day..." Minho hummed at your answer.

"Care to share?"

"I don’t know… I’m not too sure about it yet. Jumping to conclusions wouldn’t do me any good," you sighed, exhausted from thinking. You wanted to avoid spreading something that was untrue—and to do that, there were a lot of things you still had to consider carefully. There were sounds of movement coming from Minho’s location. "Do you want to take a breather? You might drown in those thoughts again."

You sat up, glancing over at him. There he was, pulling a warm hoodie over his head. "Where are you going?"

"We. Where are we going," he walks over and throws another hoodie at you. It smelled nice. The scent was from the same soap he used to wash his clothes. You caught yourself smiling unconsciously. Pulling you up from your bed, he grins at you.

"We’re going out."

And that's how you found yourself sliding down a sturdy rope from your dorm balcony to the ground below.

Curfew had already commenced a couple hours ago, which only really hit you once you saw the unfiltered darkness of the night. You could clearly hear the crickets loudly chirping around you—something you didn’t get to hear that often because of the soundproofing spell cast on the school’s walls.

"I can’t believe I’m doing this," you squealed joyfully, enjoying the feeling of thrill. In your peripheral vision, you saw the tips of Minho’s own lips twitch upwards.

Light footsteps from the two of you permeated the area as he led you towards the entrance of the forest near the dorm building. "Is this the first time you’ve snuck out?" He asks at a low volume, trying to avoid the threat of getting caught.

"Yes," you reply. "I've never had the chance to do it before. Have you?"

He chuckles at you. "Plenty. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed how I sneak out at night sometimes." You blinked at his confession. Racking your brain for any memories of Minho mysteriously disappearing in the cold hours of the night, you came up with nothing. "No?"

"It's probably because you're already asleep when I leave," he says as he leads you two down a narrow path. The area you were heading to must be surrounded by trees, somewhere deep in the small forest. "Why have you never invited me?" You approached him with your complaint.

"Again, you were literally dead asleep."

"Just wake me up. I’ll catch up with a nap after getting poisoned," you joked. Minho clicks his tongue at the reminder. "Not happening. Ever."

Seeing his face twist grumpily, you poked at his side. Minho pushes your hand away, feeling ticklish.

After another minute of walking, you finally reached a large clearing. Minho stepped aside to give you a good view, as if proudly presenting the location. You gasp, amazed at the sight before you.

It was a big lake, something you never thought of the school having before.

The scenery was beautifully surrounded by large bushy trees, forming a wall-like barrier around the body of water. That must be why it wasn’t easily seen from the outside. You noticed that the trees had a blue-ish glow, a result of the moonlight bouncing off the lake’s water. It helped give off a peaceful ambience, one where you could feel your worries dissolving in the chilly night.

You look around in wonder. "I didn’t know they had a lake here!" Minho heads over closer towards the lake’s shore to sit. You sped up when he called you over.

"I found this back in third grade," he explains while picking up a rock near him. "It wasn’t on the school map, so I was surprised to see it too."

The water was certainly not lacking in appeal either. It was so crystal clear that you could see all the different kinds of rocks littered underneath it. As you looked further, you realized the lake was quite deep in the middle because you couldn’t see its floor anymore.

"This place is very therapeutic, huh?"

Minho examined the rocks he was holding and responded, "Yeah. I come here to relax whenever I’m really stressed." He stood up and threw one of the rocks towards the water. You both watched as it skipped a few times before sinking. "I actually went here after the Legacy Day event."

Right. That must’ve been after your fight.

You let a comfortable silence take over your conversation, simply enjoying the company of one another. In the span of a few weeks, a lot has happened to the two of you. From misunderstandings that led to a fight, to making up and thinking about the future—you could say that those events really helped your change as a person, even in a short amount of time.

But there was another thing that bothered you at the present.

"What do you think about what happened to the book?" You asked Minho. He continued skipping rocks. "You mean the Book of Legends?"

"Yeah."

"Shocking," he chuckled. "I never thought someone would ever have the balls to do such a stupid thing."

Stupid was one way to say it. The Book of Legends was a highly secured item that only a select few people had access to. For someone to get past security, they had to be really stealthy to the point where you couldn’t notice them—that or not be classified as a threat.

"Why do you think they did it?"

Minho shrugs. "Maybe as a prank. I mean, what else can you really do with that book anyway?" He turned around to face you and asked, "Why?"

Should you tell him? It’s not even a confirmed theory, and there was a chance that you couldn’t actually erase the signatures, let alone steal another person’s story. However, Minho was someone who knew magic very well and could be a useful source of information.

"Me, Seungmin, and Felix were talking about it at lunch and thought that maybe there was a way to remove a signature from a signed story, or steal it as your own?" Minho dropped the remaining rocks.

"Wait, are you serious?"

You bit your lip. "It’s not yet confirmed, but Seungmin said it could be possible. We have magic and all that. As a magic user though, do you think it's possible?"

He thinks about it carefully. Magic was a complicated subject to dive into because it has so many layers. And because of that, Seungmin was correct that anything could be done technically with the help of magic.

"It... might be a thing," Minho considers. "It’s quite a possibility. This is really bad though, because it would mean the book being stolen could potentially cause major damage to our world." With his insight, the situation becomes so much more frightening to think about the outcome.

Is that what the person who stole the book planned to do?

"That book is causing so many problems," he sighs tiredly. You had to agree with him. The Book of Legends has literally been the source of most of your problems, especially knowing that the way your world works is because of the stories within it.

Minho sat back down beside you. "I wish that thing just never existed," you muttered under your breath. He stares at you, amazed at what he had just heard.

"Your way of thinking has really changed."

"How could I not?" You said, feeling agitated. "There’s a ton of stuff that doesn’t make sense in the beliefs I had before. I’m kind of ashamed that I’ve only noticed it recently."

Minho pinches your cheek. "It’s never too late," he teased. "At least you’re willing to admit your shortcomings. I like that about you."

"Don’t fall for me too much," you joked. When he didn't retort, you glanced at him. However, instead of the annoyed reaction you expected, he was giving you a soft look.

"What if I already did?"

Your brain immediately short-circuited. Wait, he does? Does Minho actually like you? This isn’t a dream, right? Maybe you fell asleep earlier, and this was just your brain playing tricks on you—

"It’s real, Y/N," he pulls you out of your doubts. "Don’t be pressured to give me an answer. It’s fine if you just see me as a friend." You catch the tips of his ears turning red.

Oh God, you think you’re going to pass out.

This was Minho. Your partner in crime, Minho. The ideal man of your dreams, Minho. Once upon a time, you had a massive crush on him, Minho. And here he was telling you he liked you? Like, romantically? What can you even say to that?

If only your parents could see you two now. You’d love to rub it in their faces that he turned out to be so much better than Hyunjin.

At your extended silence, Minho looked away. He looks really embarrassed, so you decided to end his suffering.

"I did also have a crush on you a few years back," you admitted shyly. He snaps his head towards you. "A few years back? What about now?" He asked.

You shrugged, trying to mess with him. "I don’t know," you replied. He dramatically wilts at your words. At his endearing reaction, you couldn’t help but break the act. "But I’m willing to try."

His soul comes back to him at the snap of a finger. "Really? Are you for sure?" He giddily looks for your confirmation. When you nodded at him with a smile, he almost jumped from joy. "I could literally kiss you right now," he announces, feeling breathless.

"Do it."

You didn’t have to tell him twice. It was like living fifteen-year-old you’s greatest dream, except this time, you were actually going to kiss Minho. The peaceful vibe of the area turned romantic as the two of you got closer. But just when you were about to close the gap, a movement in the woods caught your eye.

"Jisung?"

"Are you really saying someone else’s name while you’re about to kiss me?" Minho says, dumbfounded. You hastily waved your hands in denial. "No! I mean that it’s literally Jisung!" You pointed behind him.

Once Minho turned towards the direction you told him, the two of you saw Jisung, frozen in his tracks. You looked at him, confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uhm... What are you doing here too?" He squeaks out, sounding frightened.

Jisung was trembling like someone had just caught him in the act of doing something illegal. Something you didn’t understand because he’s literally the one who caught you and Minho almost kissing.

"Are you—" The words you were about to say dried up completely after your eyes traveled down to the object he was currently clutching with his whole strength. Hold on.

Is that the Book of Legends?

You choked on air. "Did—were you the one—" Your eyes stayed fixed on the supposedly missing book. Jisung panics and quickly hides it behind his back, as if that would erase both yours and Minho’s memory of ever seeing it on his hands. Minho abruptly stood up.

"Jisung, what have you done?" He stepped forward, scaring the poor guy even more. "Do you even know how big of a deal this is?"

Then, the unexpected happens.

"And what if I do!?" Jisung snaps.

You were taken aback. This was a side of him you’ve never seen before. Well, the two of you aren’t exactly close friends, but you’ve always seen Jisung as having a cheerful personality. The case of him getting angry, let alone annoyed, seems so foreign to you. Minho's eyes narrowed at him.

"...Please tell us you aren't planning something bad," he slowly said, attempting to approach Jisung. But the latter takes a few steps back.

"This book is a curse!" Jisung reasons, pointing at the book. He looks at it with such hatred that you never thought would be possible to come from him. "Don't you see it? Everyone is getting torn apart just because of this damned book! The school is a mess, my friends are all fighting, and the person I like won’t even give us a chance, all because of this—this thing!"

It was as clear as the lake's water that Jisung was hurting. You could see the unshed tears piling up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He was determined to get his point across: the book had to be disposed of. And he was the martyr; volunteering to do it himself.

"Jisung, just think for a moment—"

"How easy for you to say, Minho!" He scoffed in disdain. "You haven’t signed yet. You’re still free to do everything you want without anything tying you down—"

"And that almost cost me my life!" Minho reminds him. "If the saying was true, I wouldn’t even be here talking to you right now, Jisung."

You decided to speak too, "Jisung, please. We don’t know the extent of the importance that book holds. It could literally end up destroying the world in the worst case scenario."

He looks at you in disbelief, not believing his own ears at what you had said.

"Why are you even defending it? I know you don’t like your story either, Y/N. If we just get rid of it, then we can be free," Jisung appeals, trying to get you on his side. You shook your head. He was a bit too far gone. "Jisung, we could literally die."

"I know, okay!?" He wails. "But I’ve gotten this far already. This isn’t something I can just undo!" Jisung falls roughly to the floor, greatly distressed.

His desperation was evident in his sobs. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Jisung was Hyunjin’s best friend, as well as his roommate—but Jisung was also close to Changbin and Jeongin. The whole Rebel and Royals thing must have been devastating for him. He was also one of the people who signed the book before Minho’s outburst back on Legacy Day. Something you knew he only did because there was no other choice, just like what happened to you. Jisung also had the ability to turn into a frog at will, a trait that evolved for the line of the Frog Prince. He must’ve snuck through security as one to reach the chamber they placed the book in. How he got through the magic barriers, though, was beyond you. But that didn’t matter at the moment.

Minho walks over and grabs Jisung’s shoulder, lightly squeezing it. "You can still return it... We won’t tell on you as long as you don’t get caught," Minho turns to you. "Just promise us you’ll return it, okay?" You nod your head in agreement. Jisung manages a confirmation through his sniffles.

"Let’s head back. You can return it early in the morning, Jisung."

A loud bang abruptly woke you and Minho up. Feeling distraught, you sat up to find the source of the disturbance. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but what you saw was not what you expected at all.

"Did you seriously sleep in one bed?" Hyunjin asks, looking at the two of you. "And you called me and Mina bad."

What the hell was he doing here?

Like reading your mind, Minho pulls you back towards his chest. "What the hell are you doing here?" He sleepily glares at the intruder.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at Minho’s reaction. Instead of finally leaving, he shuts the door he flew open and sits on your sofa. You and Minho watched as he made himself comfortable, completely ignoring both of you in your current intimate position. Hyunjin stares back, unamused.

"So I can’t be comfy too? Have some hospitality, geez."

You pinched your nose bridge before asking, "So? What’s your business here?" Hyunjin had a visible lightbulb moment. Is he serious—

"I have news!" He announces. "About the Book of Legends."

You light up. "Oh! Did Jisung manage to return it—" Minho clasped a hand over your mouth to shut you up. Fuck, you forgot that Hyunjin might not be aware. You both eyed him awkwardly, looking for a way to cover up your mistake. Hyunjin snorts at the comical scene.

"Don’t worry, I already know. I helped him return it earlier."

You let out a relieved sigh. "Thank God. I thought Jisung was toast now." Hyunjin grabbed a sofa pillow to hug. Is he planning to stay here or what? "Do you have anything else to say—"

"It’s fake."

Minho, who finally came out of his sleepy spell, gave Hyunjin a confused look. "What’s fake?" The former pursed his lips, obviously conflicted about what he was about to say.

"The Book of Legends is fake."

Did Jisung steal a dummy? Wait, does this mean he got caught? You are now alarmed at the possible indication. "Is Jisung okay?"

To your relief, Hyunjin confirmed that the other prince was indeed safe. You don’t know what you would do if he was ever found out to be the one who attempted to steal the Book of Legends. That was a crime worth getting expelled and imprisoned for, even worse than Minho disrupting this year’s Legacy Day event.

"How’d you find out it was fake?" Minho asked.

"We were passing by the principal’s office after returning the book to the chamber. The door was slightly open, and we heard him ordering another to this person over the phone. At first we thought it was for a dummy until the actual one was back, but it turns out the book wasn’t even this all-powerful relic! It’s literally just an enchanted book to make those fancy visuals—"

"Hold on, you mean the whole concept of the Book of Legends is fake? Not just the one Jisung stole?" You yelled at the unexpected revelation. "Then what the fuck is the Book of Legends for then?"

Hyunjin looked shocked. "You curse?"

"Answer me!"

He raised his hand up when you attempted to launch at him. Minho quickly held you back. "Calm down, woman. And you ask me why I don’t want to marry you." Minho gave him a pointed look.

"Let’s not go there right now."

"No need to get all possessive on me, loverboy. I have no plans to take her away." Hyunjin tells Minho. The latter only snarls sourly. "You better not."

"Hello? Are we just going to brush off that the Book of Legends isn’t true?"

Hyunjin retorts, "It’s real. Just not in the way we believed it was. It’s literally just a book filled with stories enchanted with magic to make it look fancy." You stared daggers at him.

"Get Jisung. You’re so useless."

He whined. "It’s not my fault! I don’t know much else other than that either! Jisung went straight to Yeri to see if she could post the news. We’re hoping to get the issue investigated professionally."

"How are you so sure they aren’t in on this too? Maybe we’ve been living under the control of the officials for so long!" Minho stroked your hair, in an attempt to calm you down. "Isn't that the point of a government?" shrugs Hyunjin.

You threw a pillow at him.

"Can you not!?" He shrieked. Minho groaned at the chaotic scene. "Thank you for the news, Hyunjin, but this could really wait until lunch or something," he locked you in place so that you wouldn’t attack the poor guy any more, "Unless you have anything else you want to say?"

Hyunjin went silent. He placed the pillow back to rest on the sofa, and sat properly. Clearing his throat, he finally spoke.

"I wanted to say sorry to Y/N," he admits. "There isn’t an explanation I can give you for why I treated you the way I did other than I was immature and hated the idea of not being able to choose who I married—which is a bad excuse because it’s not like you liked that either. Compared to the two of us, you treated me much better than I did to you, even if we were in the same boat." You blinked.

"I’m working on myself, and Mina is too. So I hope you can forgive us someday. You don’t have to like us, though. We'd understand that much."

Well, this was unexpected. Hyunjin and Mina weren’t total bullies, but they still had a hand in the multiple times you were hurt. It would be hard to forget, but you think you could manage to forgive them in the near future at the very least. If they were willing to change, that was enough for you.

"I’ll think about it," you replied to him. The simple positive response was enough to make him smile. "Thanks."

Hyunjin stood up and headed towards the door. "I’ll leave you two lovebirds now. School starts in two hours, by the way. Might as well get ready; there’s bound to be lots of people in the cafeteria soon," he bids, closing the door not long after.

You lay back down, covering yourself with the blanket. Minho laughs and joins you.

"Thirty more minutes."

A day after the shocking truth of the Book of Legends came out on Yeri’s blog, an investigation was launched into the case. And just a mere two days after that, Jisung and Hyunjin’s finding was confirmed—which appalled the whole realm.

It turns out, there was so much more to the fake Book of Legends. Storybook High’s current principal comes from a long line of people who were all high-ranking officials in this world. It was also from this family that the concept of stories was traced back to: the Grimm Family. After careful investigation, they found out that one of their first ancestors responsible for the stories was a very ambitious writer, who wished for his works to come to life. With the help of his older brother, who was a strong magic user, he learned magic with his goals in mind. And with the magic he had gained, he made the legitimate Book of Legends.

It was a book containing all of his stories, with different parts dedicated to all of the characters. But there was a curse embedded into the book; if one signed a character’s story, they would end up living the same life as them.

Satisfied with his work, the Grimm ancestor went around towns, trying to find people to trick into signing the pages under the guise that it meant they liked the story. As one could have probably guessed by now, you were the generations that came after those victims.

That didn’t mean your Book of Legends had the same curse, though.

Apparently, the original book has long since disappeared, only really affecting the first generation of those who signed it. The Grimm ancestor did not live long enough to make another one for his victims’ offspring, though, and in an effort to save their father’s work, his children vowed to continue the stories no matter what—which was still the Grimm Family’s main goal in the current time.

The truth wasn’t uncovered earlier because the Grimm Family quickly took over the world’s power positions and buried the information—making it only accessible to those in on the plan. Following this, they also found out that the current Grimm governing the school had a brother who they locked up in prison wrongfully because he opposed their family’s plans.

What a ride.

"This is so messed up," Chan gasped from across the table, setting down his mirror phone that had the news displayed. "I knew it was sketchy, but not this sketchy!" Felix agrees with him, reaching over Seungmin’s tray to grab his brownie.

Yours and Minho’s friend group (plus Hyunjin and Jisung, who were connected to Changbin) were currently seated at one table, eating their respective lunches. The full result of the investigation just came out earlier this morning, and many were still processing the bomb that just dropped.

"It’s great to know we’ve been living a lie all along," Jeongin chirps sarcastically. Jisung smiled at the group. "But at least now they've abolished it, right? We’re all free now!"

Oh, that was another thing that happened. After the arrest of the remaining Grimm Family members that were involved with the scheme, the new officials completely tore the "follow your story" concept apart and encouraged everyone to write their own destinies. As a result, many of those who heavily sided with the Royals division apologized for their actions and were now working to improve themselves.

"Took them long enough," Minho said, placing an apple on your tray. You pinched his arm. "Ouch!" Seungmin had the audacity to look disgusted.

"Can you two flirt somewhere else?"

"Fine," Minho said, standing up and dragging you along. Gagging noises were heard from the table as the two of you left. You laughed, very amused at their reactions. When Minho stops the both of you in an empty corridor, you joked, "Why do we always end up in a hallway?"

He chuckles at your comment. "Who knows," he stepped closer, "But I know I haven’t gotten that kiss yet." You rolled your eyes at his suggestion. "I can’t believe we ended up together. We're literally supposed to be enemies," you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Minho snickers. "That’s only written on paper anyway," he leans forward.

"Paper can easily be torn."

taglist 🏷️ : @h0neydewmoon @ni-sh @xazucaradictax @autumn-lv @hyuka-luvbot @openlylazybookreader @aunty-tiger-potato @mafegarcia @peachesandcream-9 @strwbrryblues @skzpdf @sidekidzz

#starseungs — library.#stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee minho imagines #lee know imagines #lee minho #favorite

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kyufeed · 2 days ago

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how to be an idol: go live, fuck up a pudding, end live ✅

#002 #mg:stray kids #m:lino #stray kids #skz #lino #lee minho #userhyunchanz #forparker #useroro #ninitual #tuserflora #anateogift #useranusia #eritual #hennatual #vivitual #sorry if u dont like them btw.. dont know who to tag

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withleeknow · 19 hours ago

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🐰🍓🥟

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laynnnnn · 3 days ago

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| Stray Kids ‘ 合 (HOP) ’ | Wallpapers / Lockscreen | ›› please give credits if you take my work ! ›› пожалуйста, сохраняйте кредиты если берете мои работы !

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broken-glowsticks · 2 days ago

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UHM OH MY GOD I HOPE HE FINDS HIS GIRL?! Bitch should've left her number at least!!

When the Rain Stops

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader

W/c: 9.8k

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of smoking, mentions of cheating, brief comment about calories, use of pet names, sex in a public establishment (no one is around), oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, squirting

Synopsis: A passing storm during a road trip forces you to seek shelter in a little dive bar on the outskirts of town, and you find yourself drawn to the bartender.

18+. Mdni!

•

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, wringing out your stringy wet hair onto the black carpet below you. You know the weather forecast predicted rain- hell, your family even warned you about it when you left their place this morning. But true to your bad luck, you severely underestimated just how much of it. Now, you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere while you wait for the storm to pass.

Okay, maybe not technically the middle of nowhere. But a shitty dive bar surrounded by nothing for miles upon miles isn’t really something to write home about. You know it could be worse- at least here you have access to unlimited alcohol and mozzarella sticks. But a quick look around tells you that’s not enough to redeem it for you.

The place is undoubtedly small, pool tables and red leather booths housing most of the space. Where there’s vacancy at the tables, the servers haven’t bothered to clean up yet, passing by stacks of dirty plates and silverware to serve guests sitting at other tables. A group of men chatter amongst themselves at one of the pool tables, and a single man is sat at the open bar.

You settle on a spot at the open bar, sitting two barstools away from the man and drying your feet on the rug below you.

“What can I get you?” A voice overhead says dryly, and you respond without looking up.

“Just a Coke, maybe? Diet, please.”

You hear the man scoff a little as he retreats, and then you finally look up, slightly offended at his reaction.

He’s walking away from the bar when you see him, only the back of his head visible from behind the counter where you’re sat.

As he disappears into the back to grab a coke, you pull your cell phone out of your bag. You wipe raindrops off the screen with the sleeve of your sweater, pushing the lock button to catch up on unread texts. There are only two, both from your parents, warning you about the rain and requesting you turn back for the night.

You shoot them back a text, assuring them you’ve found someplace safe to stay, and that you won’t be driving in this rain until the storm blows over. But the truth is, you’re rather unsure of that yourself. Your phone currently reads at 26% battery, the storm is predicted to go on for several hours, and there are seemingly no hotels nearby to stay the night. Chances are, you’re going to be here for a good while.

A veiny hand places an iced glass of your Diet Coke in front of you as you finish sending the texts, and you look up to lock eyes with the bartender.

He’s rather tall, with light brown hair that falls just above his soft round eyes, totally contradicting the sharpness in his jawline and nose bridge. The man is dressed formally in a white button-up shirt and a black tie, rolled up halfway at the sleeves, the top two buttons undone to reveal just a glimpse of his broadened chest.

“Is that it?” He asks. His stare is cold and serious, and you find yourself a little intimidated in this proximity to him.

“Yes, thank you. Do you happen to have a phone charger?”

He scoffs again.

“This isn’t a convenience store.”

“I’m aware,” you reply with narrowed eyes. “I just need to make a few calls.”

“There’s a pay phone in the back.”

It’s your turn to scoff. He’s calculated with his words, like he’s trying his best to get you to leave the bar. But you’re as stubborn as they come, and it’ll take a lot more than rude customer service to make you leave in this storm.

“Look, I’m not using a pay phone unless you’re supplying quarters. You don’t have an iPhone charger?”

He rolls his eyes.

“No, I don’t have an iPhone charger. And I’m not supplying you with anything- this isn’t a convenience store. Unless you want a vodka sprite or some chicken wings, I think we’re all done here.”

Before you can reply, he turns on his heel, making his way back to the kitchen and disappearing behind the double doors once again.

The doors swing in and out a few times before coming to a halt, and you stare through the circular window as he resumes cooking something in the kitchen.

Unpleasant- the personalities of everyone in your parents’ neighboring town, miles away from your apartment in the city. It reminds you precisely why you seldom visit these parts.

“Don’t take it personal,” a voice from beside you says. He shifts to face you from his bar stool. “He’s always like that.”

The stranger is well-dressed in a coat and slacks, his black hair styled neatly out of his face.

“Surprised he keeps any business at all with an attitude like that.”

“The locals don’t get the worst of it,” he continues. “Mostly us city-dwellers he despises.”

A small smile forms on your face. “You’re from the city too?”

“Yeah!” he replies enthusiastically. “I’m just passing through for the weekend.”

“Me too! Though I got stuck on the way back home. Doesn’t seem like we’ll be able to leave for a few hours.”

“Oh yeah,” the man says. “It’s really bad out there.”

You shift your attention to the large window at the back of the bar- the rain is still coming down in sheets over the glistening black pavement, nothing visible beyond the blurry traffic lights as the trees melt into an abyss of darkness. The roads appear empty and the parking lot seems fuller than usual for a bar like this.

“I’m Jisung, by the way,” he says finally.

You turn back to him and nod once. “Y/n. It’s great to meet you.”

As Jisung indulges you in conversation about city life, you learn he’s a businessman who visits the area on Saturdays when he gathers in the town with old friends. He also lives alone in a high-rise apartment, he’s single, and he comes to this particular dive bar for the chicken wings. Ones he insists you have to try, so you waive over the bartender to place another order.

“Excuse me, could we get an order of chicken wings?”

The bartender scribbles something and walks away quickly, hardly acknowledging you the way he did earlier.

“You know,” Jisung says. “Maybe the rain isn’t such a bad thing.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve been talking to the prettiest girl in this bar for the last 30 minutes. Beats being stuck in traffic any day.”

You feel your whole face turn a bright shade of crimson as he grins flirtatiously. Of course, the other way around stands true, too; his features resemble that of a model’s, and you're pretty sure the other girls in the bar have been eyeing him since you walked in.

Before you can respond, the bartender returns, setting a plate down in front of you and some silverware.

“Enjoy,” he says plainly, and he blinks a few times before leaving again.

“Jeez, it’s like he doesn’t even want to work here,” you tell Jisung.

He says nothing in response- he simply slides the plate over to you, ushering for you to choose a piece.

And you do, carefully balancing the saucy cut between your forefinger and thumb as Jisung taps his against yours.

“Cheers,” he says happily. “To the rain.”

The chicken is the best you’ve had in a while- in fact, you can’t recall having better food at any bar before this.

“Wow, you were right, Jisung. this is phenomenal!”

“It’s Minho’s recipe,” he replies with a mouthful of food.

“Who’s Minho?”

Jisung nods in the direction of the bar, where the bartender is cleaning off a glass with a white towel. He raises his eyebrows once at you, as if to confirm he’s indeed the topic of conversation, and you turn back to Jisung.

“It’s really good,” you say loudly, with the intention of Minho hearing your compliment.

But Minho doesn’t respond, instead sauntering over and refilling your Diet Coke. His eyes visibly avoid yours, guarded, like you might instigate another quarreling match with him at any given second. But he also blinks rapidly as he pours your beverage, almost as if he’s trying not to say something himself. You analyze his mannerisms briefly, before brushing them off and enjoying your food again. He’s probably just still peeved from earlier.

“Do you want to play a round of pool?” Jisung interrupts your thoughts. “Not to scare you, but I’m kind of terrible at it.”

His eyes form little crescents as he laughs loudly, and the gloomy vibe in the bar seems to brighten from the sound alone.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

Three rounds in, Jisung is practically sober again, reeling off the high from winning three times against you. He might be terrible, but you’re evidently far worse than he claims to be.

“If I win this match, you let me take you out on a date. How does that sound?” Jisung says through laughter, though he’s entirely serious about the proposal.

Your cue stick prods at his ribs as you smile back in agreement. “And if you lose?”

“I won’t lose,” Jisung retorts. “Might as well pick a restaurant now.”

It’s a failure already, Jisung having only two stripes left while you’re still stuck with all 8 solids. He takes his aim at the cue ball, halting his laughter briefly to position his cue stick, and then cheering loudly as the ball disappears into its nearest hole. You watch with bated breath as he repeats the process, only this time, he misses.

“Hey,” you whine. “You only brought up our proposal midway through this round. At least I deserve a chance card!”

He scoffs. “Pick a chance then. I doubt it’ll get you 7 balls closer to your competition.”

You scan the room in deep thought, one hand resting under your chin and atop the cue stick; and then, the idea hits you.

“He’ll play for me,” you announce, nodding toward the direction of where Minho is wiping down the counter with a rag. He looks up momentarily, furrowing his brows when he notices the shared looks of you and Jisung.

“Get over here!” Jisung shouts, and a few patrons of the tables nearby encourage the invitation, cheering and applauding.

“No,” Minho says as he shakes his head shyly. “I’m busy.”

“There’s literally no one around,” Jisung retorts. “Come on, I know you can try at least once.”

“He’s scared he’ll lose,” you chime in. “And then you’ll have to take me out on a date.”

You swear you see Minho’s eyes narrow, and then he dries his hands with the same rag before setting it down.

“One round only. If I win, you tip double.”

“Deal,” says Jisung, and you watch Minho strut over to the table.

He’s taller than you assumed, towering over you in a black pair of slacks that lengthen his muscular legs. In preparation, Minho cuffs up his sleeves a few more times, buttoning them at the forearm and loosening his collar. You try your hardest not to stare, but it’s a seemingly impossible task, you quickly realize, as he takes your cue stick and positions himself over the table. One loose strand of brown hair falls into his face, and you resist the urge to move it out of the way for him.

The tables nearby are quiet as Minho pulls back, and then aims, the first of your solids rolling into the hole with ease.

“Oh fuck you,” Jisung groans, and Minho positions himself over the next target. Aim, roll back, perfect shot.

Tables around you begin to gather around yours, watching silently as Minho repeats his method. Aim, roll, shoot. The heavy sound of a solid rolling down the velvety surface, and the satisfying plink as it finds its home inside the hole.

Only two solids remain, and Jisung rests his head on his cue stick as Minho takes aim again. “I can’t watch. Someone tell me if he gets it.”

Aim… roll… and double plink- both solids disappear into the hole beneath them, effectively ending the match between the two. The patrons clap and cheer loudly, and Jisung throws his hands in the air, groaning in annoyance. “Fuck, man! You didn’t say you knew how to play pool?”

Minho shrugs, not a hint of a smile on his face as he retrieves the balls and organizes them on the table again. Jisung slides him a twenty, and he shoots you a quick glance, nodding once as he leaves the table and disappears back into the kitchen. You wonder again what he’s thinking about, briefly worried you’ve annoyed him by pulling him away from his work.

“Hey,” Jisung says, snapping you out of your tranced state. “Did you want to… maybe… get out of here? I know a hotel just a few blocks from the bar. We can walk fast.”

You think it over momentarily, weighing your options. The rain has no intention of stopping anytime soon, and you’re dying for a shower at this point. You’re also persuaded by the idea of a warm bed- not to mention, a warm body, for the night.

“Sure! I’m just going to run to the bathroom, I’ll meet you outside.”

The reflection in the mirror looks rough, staring back at you like this, desperately fixing the smudged makeup to the best of your ability and spritzing perfume. It’s been a while since you hooked up with a random person- especially one from a dive bar like this, but somehow you trust him. He’s funny, sweet, and he’s undoubtedly attractive. Plus, maybe a hookup will distract you from the current state of things.

When you exit, you make your way past the barstools, thanking Minho briefly. His lips curl up into a hint of a smile, and you can’t help but feel bad for him- he’s stuck in this shitty bar regardless, dealing with obnoxious patrons seeking shelter from the storm and cleaning up after their drunken messes. He may be a little rude, but it’s deserved, you think, as he cleans off your dishes.

Finally exiting the bar, you look around for Jisung, shielding your eyes from sheets of rain and squinting against the dark sky. The only source of light is a hanging light beside the wooden bar sign, and it illuminates nothing past your immediate eyesight.

“Jisung?” You call, being met only with the sounds of heavy rainfall and swaying leaves.

“Jisung?”

The wind blows violently, and you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering against the brutal cold. A man enters the bar beside you, keeping the door open and ushering you inside. And you do enter again, marching straight to the bar to search for Jisung.

“Excuse me,” you say to Minho, who is busy preparing a beer on tap for another patron. “Did you see the man who was here earlier? Tall, black hair, suit?”

“You mean Jisung?” He says without looking at you, and you perk up at his name.

“Yes! Did you see where he went?”

“Yeah,” Minho replies dryly. “I told him you changed your mind about him.”

“You- what?”

Minho says nothing again, filling another mug of beer and sliding it across the counter to a patron.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

“He’s bad news,” Minho shrugs.

The words circle in your head for a good minute while you make sense of them. Minho ruined your chances at going home with Jisung- because he’s “bad news”? What does he even know about him?

“Why do you say that?” The question escapes your lips before you can ponder a more insightful one.

“I know him,” he replies casually. “Like I said- bad news.”

Frustration builds up steadily inside of you, turning your ears a bright shade of crimson and knitting your brows together in pure confusion.

“Who are you to determine that? You’re just a bartender! It’s none of your damn business who I leave with!”

He slaps a palm on the counter, not particularly hard, but enough to startle you a little.

“Actually, it is. I have a legal obligation to ensure my patrons don’t leave here inebriated behind a vehicle, or with strange men. And I saved you from the latter. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanking you?” You scoff. “Since I walked in here you’ve been nothing but a complete douche! There’s nothing to thank you for.”

“Then don’t,” Minho says. “I did my part either way.”

You stutter momentarily, settling on silence as he exits back to the kitchen and leaves you standing at the counter. The current state of things feels much like they did when you first entered- drenched from the rain, frustrated, and annoyed with the bartender. Only now, you can add cockblocked to the list, all thanks to Minho.

Two hours past the incident, your phone is completely dead. It’s just past 11 when the rain stills just for a little bit, and hoards of patrons file out of the bar to complete their short trips home. You remain stuck however, knowing the rain will pick up again if you attempt the six hour drive back right now. The bar is nearly empty at this hour, only two people sat at a far table, and the quiet swing of jazz music is now audible from your little booth. The peeling leather of the red seats below you is rather itchy, and the dim lantern hanging over you gives an orange-ish glow to the wooden table beneath you. You scribble mindless doodles on a stack of napkins in front of you, trying your best to pass the agonizing time spent here.

As you finalize the petals of a messy flower drawn on the napkin, a plate is set down in front of you, along with a glass of what you presume is Diet Coke. The smell instantly makes your mouth water- a cheesy omelet coupled with a side of french fries, steam still wafting off the plate and up into the glow of the booth’s lighting. You look up to see none other than Minho, and before you can protest, he slides into the booth across from you, setting a fork down on your napkin.

“You should eat,” he says. “It’s been a while.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“It’s on me,” Minho emphasizes, and you finally look up from your drawing.

“Look,” he begins. “Jisung has been coming here for years. He’s a cool dude, I get it.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly like I have a chance with him anymore,” you turn back to your drawing.

“He’s also married,” Minho finishes.

At that, your head snaps up at him, eyes widened in shock.

“What? But he said-”

“Yeah, that’s what he always says. It’s kind of his thing- picking up girls from the bar and taking them to that one hotel. I told you, he’s bad news.”

Silence washes over the booth as you swallow nervously. He shrugs apologetically, fiddling with his fingers as you begin to speak.

“Sorry. I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t. I just didn’t want you to come back here crying tomorrow morning like the last girl did.”

It hits you like a ton of bricks- Minho really was looking after you. You’d almost left this strange dive bar, in the middle of nowhere, to sleep with a married man in a sketchy hotel. In hindsight, it was stupid you ever agreed.

“At least eat some fries,” he says, and you remember the plate in front of you. You comply with his request, taking a bite of the still-warm fries which almost melt on your tongue.

“These are really good,” you tell him. “He was right about the food, at least.”

“I’m kind of a big deal here,” Minho says as he leans back. He smirks- the first time you’ve seen an expression on his face tonight.

“I’m sure. How did you get so good at pool, anyway?”

“I work at a dive bar,” Minho says. “Girls ask me to play with them all the time.”

“Do they now? Your reluctance earlier says otherwise.”

“Oh they do,” Minho says. “When they’re as shitty as you, I’m the chance card.”

“Hey!” You shout. Minho giggles, his head thrown back as his eyes form little crescents in amusement. His laugh makes you laugh, too, the musical sound of it making your heartbeat quicken a little. It’s melodic and lighthearted, and you almost forget you’re stuck with him in this hell of a bar. There’s a glow to him at this time of night.

“Run it back,” you say as his laughter dies down. “And I’ll show you I’m not entirely terrible.”

“Better hope you don’t lose,” he says. “You won’t have a chance card this time.”

You still suck at pool. Minho clears the table in two quick rounds, and you’ve barely had time to practice with your cue stick because it’s hardly ever your turn.

“Alright,” Minho says. “I’ll let you have this turn. It’s boring watching you stand there all night.”

You approach the table, positioning your cue stick and taking aim at your first solid of the match.

“Use your thumb on the front hand,” he chimes in.

“Like this?”

“No, it should be between your thumb and pointer finger.”

“Like I’m pinching it?” You ask confused, and Minho chuckles.

“Here.”

Before you can adjust your cue stick again, Minho is behind you, one hand finding yours at the front of the cue stick and positioning it between your thumb and pointer finger like he explained. His hands are cold to the touch, and you’re intimidated having him this close to you. The other hand gently grips your elbow, moving it back a little as he scans the current trajectory. His face is dangerously close to yours, hair falling beautifully into his eyes as he moves, lips parted in concentration and the gentle flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks.

“There. Try now.”

You do as he instructs, rolling back and taking aim at your solid. Aim, shoot… and the familiar roll of your ball across the table. Only this time, it’s followed by the satisfying sound of falling into its respective hole.

“Oh my gosh!” You exclaim. “That’s only the third one I’ve gotten tonight!”

Minho chuckles, amused with your ardent reaction. “Your aim isn’t bad at all. It’s just your positioning.”

He turns to smile at you, momentarily unaware of how close he is to you. He’s towering over you, lips pulled into a mischievous grin as your eyes glimmer, still reeling off the high of scoring. For a brief second, your eyes flicker down to his lips, maybe a little too obviously, and then back up at his eyes.

“I should probably get back to the kitchen,” Minho says nervously. “I think that table ordered drinks like one round ago.”

“Yeah,” you reply, a little hurt that he’s leaving again. “I’m pretty tired, anyway.”

“You want something else to eat?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Good luck with work, though!” You avert his gaze fully now, mentally tracing the pattern on the rug below you.

When Minho leaves, you can’t help but mentally scold yourself. He’s just a bartender- one whose job is to serve you drinks and keep you out of trouble here. Not some friend to stand around and play pool with, regardless of how good he is, or hypnotizing it feels when he touches you.

At 1am, the bar is officially empty. The last few patrons leave after a round of gin vodkas, somehow getting an Uber despite the storm and leaving home for the night. You debate getting a room at the nearby hotel, but there’s no way you’ll be able to reserve a room this late, and your phone is still dead. It would probably be smart to attempt some method of getting home, but a part of you strangely doesn’t want to leave the bar anymore. It feels like a vessel into another universe, like time doesn’t exist here, like the storm or the ride home aren’t important as long as you’re sat in this little booth. You’re well aware the bar closes in an hour, but you’d rather wait until the hour to decide what to do.

Of course, part of it could be the bartender. You don’t want to like Minho, but you can’t quite make sense of him, either. He’s attractive, but reserved. He’s outgoing, but he has his guard up. And his walls break down when he’s enjoying himself, but he builds them up quickly again, and you can’t understand what triggers it. He’s much like the bar is- safe and homely, yet mysterious and alluring.

As you take a sip of your Diet Coke, neck craned to watch the show playing on the tv above you, a familiar face scoots into the booth across from you.

“Subway,” he says.

“What?”

“Jeopardy. Restaurants by slogan: Eat Fresh. It’s Subway.” He's referring to the episode of Jeopardy you’ve been watching for the past half hour.

“Everyone knows that,” you say with a smile.

You expect him to defend himself, but instead he laughs and shakes his head.

“Either our diet cokes are really good, or you’re not in any rush to get home.”

You sigh, swirling your straw around your third can of Coke and shrugging.

“I can’t make it home in this rain. The roads are closed going my direction, anyway.”

“Where’s home?”

“Far from here. In the city.”

Minho sits back comfortably now, arms crossed in front of him as he listens to you speak.

“City girl. I guessed it.”

“What gave me away?” You ask with a smile.

“iPhone charger request. And you drink Diet Coke exclusively.”

“I don’t like to waste my calories!” You argue.

“You’re in a dive bar.”

The two of you share laughter at your admission, and you can feel your cheeks heat up again. He sure knows how to make you laugh.

“I’ll probably get a motel room for tonight,” you say. “I think there’s one walking distance from here.”

“The nearest one is a shithole. I’m pretty sure someone died there, like, a few months ago.”

You exhale deeply, poking around at your drink with your straw.

“I have work on Monday. I have to get some shut-eye or I won’t be able to get home even if it does stop raining.”

Minho glances around the bar, observing the vacant tables and empty parking lot.

“Yah, Jeongin-ah!” He shouts suddenly, and a figure appears around the kitchen door, peering over at your table.

“Yeah?”

“Clock out,” Minho says. “We’re closing an hour early.”

“An hour? But what if-”

“No one else is coming in this rain. Just grab your stuff And get home safely. I’ll handle the rest of the tables.”

Jeongin’s gaze darts over at you quickly, and then back to Minho, as he nods without saying another word. He disappears into the kitchen once again, presumably to gather his belongings.

“You don’t have to close on account of me,” you say finally, a little unsure of his motives. “I can walk to the motel from here.”

He scoffs, sliding out from the booth and gathering a stack of dirty dishes from the table beside you. “I told you, it’s not safe. You can chill here for the next hour while I do closing procedures, and if it’s still raining, I can at least give you a ride there.”

“Why should I trust you?” You ask, hint of sarcasm present in your voice, but still cautious.

“Technically you shouldn’t,” he says with a smile. “But you’re free to call the cops on me whenever you want.”

“Nice try. My phone's dead.” You shoot him a smile, knowing he’s just messing with you, but wanting to entertain his little game nonetheless.

“Back room, third drawer in the file cabinet. There should be a phone charger there.”

You gasp and scoff. “I thought this wasn’t a convenience store!”

“It’s not,” Minho says, flashing you a toothy smile as he makes his way to the kitchen and calls out over his shoulder. “It’s a dive bar. My dive bar.”

Minho scrubs grease off the plates while you dry mugs on the counter adjacent to him and arrange them neatly in a row.

“So you haven’t left this town in years?” You ask Minho, continuing the conversation you’ve been having with him for the past 45 minutes.

“I drive to the city probably once a year,” he replies. “Hate it.”

“Why?”

“It’s too busy. I prefer simple. Simple people, simple places. A simple life.”

“How can you say that when you’ve never experienced it the other way around before?”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Experienced a simpler life. Outside of the city.”

“Well… kind of. I mean, I moved out the second I turned 18. Grew up in the suburbs, but I traveled to the city every chance I got. I always knew I wanted to be there.”

“So you’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible?”

“I guess not.”

He wipes his forehead with the back of his arm.

“I grew up in the city.”

“You did?”

“Hated it,” Minho says.

“Why’s that?”

“I was… easily distracted. Got involved with a lot of bad crowds. Never knew what I wanted. Worked as a private chef for a while, actually.”

You stop drying the mug you’re working on and look at him in utter shock.

“You?”

“Me,” he affirms with a chuckle. “I quit one random day five years ago and moved out here with every penny I saved. Obtained ownership of this bar and haven’t looked back since.”

You nod at his words, resuming your task as he shuts off the water.

“Takes some courage, I’ll give you that.”

Minho leans back against the counter and rests his hands on the table behind him. He smirks at you knowingly, and you can feel his eyes pierce through you out of your peripheral vision.

“What?” You say with a blushing grin.

“Nothing,” he replies. “You make a good employee here.”

“Yeah, right,” you say sarcastically, lining up the last mug on the counter and turning around to face him.

“I’d probably start a fire with running water or something crazy.”

He laughs again, shaking his head as you cross your arms.

“I need to close up the registers,” Minho says. “You want to hang out here until I’m done?”

“Sure,” you reply, and he bows slightly.

“I’ll try to be fast.”

Minho leaves to the back office as you wipe your hands with a dish rag, smiling in a daze.

While Minho counts change in the office, you explore the place a bit, making your way around the pool tables to the back of the bar. It’s then that you notice a tall staircase almost hidden away in a back corner. You slowly make your way up the stairs, tip-toeing so as not to startle Minho while he’s in the office closing up for the night. The creaky wooden stairs are muffled by the sound of the rain outside.

When you reach the top, you lean on the banister, looking down on the bar and taking in the view. It looks especially charming like this, illuminated only by the golden neon sign hung over the bar counter and reflecting off the big glass cabinets. Entrance through a small doorway leads to a single, dark room, and you turn on the dim light to explore the room.

There are only two things in the room- another pool table, visibly much older than the others downstairs, and an old arcade game. Upon closer inspection, you find that the game is a run-down version of Pac-Man, one of your favorite arcade games growing up. The giant yellow display is decorated with whimsical little drawings of Pac-Man and ghosts, and you can’t help but crack a smile at the sight, remembering the days you used to play as a kid.

You try the on switch, being met with a buzzing noise and the glow of red marquee lights, but nothing appears on the screen. Bummer, you think to yourself.

“It’s never turned on,” a voice says behind you, and you let out a shout, startled at the sudden noise.

When you turn around, Minho is standing with his hands in his pockets, a black blazer thrown over his button up shirt and a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Got it as a donation a few months ago and it’s lived up here ever since. I think it’d be a hit, if it actually worked.”

You turn back to the machine, observing the gentle hum from the static on the monitor display.

“It’s probably something with the PCB,” you reply, and Minho turns to look at you.

“The what?”

“The printed circuit board,” You repeat, setting your purse down on the floor beside you. “You have a screwdriver?”

Minho’s brows furrow together in confusion, but he nods slowly. “Yeah, sure.”

He leaves momentarily and returns with the requested tool, watching as you drop to your knees and unscrew the door to the cabinet.

“The lights turn on, which is a good thing,” you explain to him. “Means the monitor is still in good condition. So It’s probably just slowed down with general wear.”

When the cabinet door is off, Minho leans back against the pool table and observes as you pull out little parts from the myriad of pieces along the circuit.

“I figured,” You say, sitting back with a tissue in hand. “The EPROMs and ROMs are all warped.”

You pull a bobby pin out from your hair, gently wiggling the pins back in place before cleaning them off with a tissue.

Minho is lost as he watches you, mouth agape at the level of focus in your expression, tongue poking out between your lips as you move with purpose and determination. He realizes he may have undermined you this whole time, thinking secretly you’d crave a simpler life, when all along it was your intelligence and wit that drew you to the city. You’re as complex as the city, he thinks. You can’t be confined within the safety of these four walls like he can. And maybe he’s complex, too. But he’s not sure of himself the way you seem to be.

When you’re finished wiping down the acronyms of pieces, you fit them back in and screw back on the door. Minho watches curiously as you plug in the machine again, reaching around the frame for the switch and flipping it on.

The familiar hum of the screen starts up again, only this time it flashes a bright white color, and then displays PAC-MAN as soft music begins to play.

“Holy shit,” Minho says with a breathy chuckle. “That would've been thousands to get repaired.”

“Take it as a thank you,” you say. “For helping me out tonight.”

You hoist yourself up on the pool table and gesture to the display as he stares in awe. “Try it!”

Minho presses the red START button, chuckling when the familiar tune starts up and the game begins. He makes it through a few rows before getting eaten by a pixelated ghost, groaning when the game flashes GAME OVER and starts up another round.

But he doesn’t resume playing, instead turning around to face you with an unmoving expression.

“It’s drizzling,” he says, looking past you out the little window.

“Mhm,” you reply, though you’re not registering a word he's saying anymore. He’s dangerously close to you again, eye-level with you while you’re sat atop the pool table and not taking your gaze off him.

He seems to be trembling with anticipation, his gaze flickering down to your lips and back up to your eyes, hoping you’ll notice the motion and do something, anything with it.

“We should probably get going,” You say in a whisper.

He swallows cautiously. “Yeah.”

“Right now that the rain is a little lighter.”

“Yeah,” he says again, though neither of you make any move to leave.

“Thanks for tonight,” you reply, your eyes fully locked on his lips now.

Minho begins to say something, but his voice hitches in his throat, instead opting to swallow and and take a single step forward. And before you can say another word, his face tilts in front of you, gently pressing his lips to yours.

He kisses you gently, but he doesn’t waste any time, hands caressing your waist in his embrace and pressing up against you. He tastes like mint, his tongue mixing the flavor with the taste of Diet Coke still in your mouth. When he pulls away, he says nothing, searching your expression for a sign of how you’re feeling. You say nothing, too, eyes flickering over his serious gaze and waiting for him to break the silence.

When he still doesn’t talk, you reach out to grab his collar, pulling him toward you again. You kiss him first this time, slipping your tongue inside his parted lips to taste him fully, gripping his collar like you might lose him if you let go.

“Fuck,” Minho says, pulling away and breathing heavily. He squeezes his eyes shut, a nervous expression tugging at his lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t do this,” Minho replies. “With patrons. I just… I don’t know what got into me…”

His words trail off as you work little kisses down his jawline and neck, nibbling over his clavicle and humming greedily against him.

“What if I wanted you to?”

Minho stares at the ceiling as you work him, breath hitching in his throat as you trail even lower.

You pull away from him, tilting his gaze down to meet yours with a hand on his cheek.

“Say you don’t want to kiss me again,” you clarify. “Say it, and I’ll stop.”

His eyes narrow, piercing through yours as his hands rest gently on your upper thighs.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” Minho says seriously.

Your heart drops instantly, the anticipation that had built up pending his answer quickly fizzling as his words pierce through you. Your throat is dry, dozens of questions circling your mind, but nothing that comes to fruition amidst your disappointment. Guess it wasn’t the way you’d read into it all night.

“Okay.” Your voice is shaky, doing nothing to mask your disappointment.

“I don’t want to kiss you,” Minho says again quickly, his thumbs tracing circle patterns on your thighs. He leans in again, lips just barely grazing over yours as he speaks in a whisper. “I want you right here, on this table, right now. I want to do a lot more than just kiss you.”

Your heartbeat resumes, pulsing wildly as he scans your face for a reaction. You don’t grant him one through your facial expressions- rather, you pull him in by his collar once again, closing the gap between you and kissing him even harder this time. You can feel Minho smirking into the kiss, amused with how desperate you are at the simple admission.

His hands snake up your sweater, grabbing desperately at your lower back and pressing into you with his hips. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist, neck craned to the side for easy access while he begins to work kisses down your neck now.

“You really suck at pool,” Minho says as he smiles against your skin. His lips find yours again, giving you repeated chaste kisses as you tangle your hands in his hair. His lips feel familiar on yours- almost like you’ve done this a hundred times before. You can’t imagine a version of him you weren’t kissing like this.

“You’re calculated,” you say, smiling as you loosen the black tie around his neck.

“How so?”

“No phone charger, you only agree to play pool when a date with Jisung is on the line, and you’ve gotten me to stick around this long? You’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Minho throws his head back a little, his eyebrows arching as he laughs loudly.

“You might be a genius at fixing arcade games, but you don’t have everything figured out the way you think you do.”

“Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

He pulls away again, completing your task of loosening his tie, and then discarding it completely on the table beside you.

“It stopped raining 15 minutes ago,” he says slyly. “And suddenly you’re in no rush to go home anymore.”

His eyebrows are raised as his hands caress your thighs, moving higher until he’s grazing your hip bones with his fingertips. You don’t reply, suddenly hot at his words, and knowing he’s in fact entirely correct about it. It’s the opportunity you’ve been waiting around for all night- a break in the rainfall to get back to your car and make it to a hotel for the night. But paired against the other opportunity right in front of you- the one wearing nothing but a loosened white shirt and a devilish smirk on his face, you can’t do much but resort to the latter.

“You gonna spread for me?” Minho asks in a gentle teasing tone, his voice much quieter than before as your breath hitches in your throat. You nod, disregarding his first statement and doing as you’re told, slipping off your jeans and opening your legs just enough so that he can move his fingertips to graze your inner thighs. It feels dirty like this, so sinful for your skin to make contact with the velvety table below you. But you’re too dazed with lust, completely encapsulated by his movements to do anything except obey him.

“Good girl,” Minho replies, and your heartbeat quickens at the praise.

His hands dance in gentle back and forth motions along your thighs, gradually getting closer to your core, until his middle finger rests gently atop your clothed clit.

Your eyes dart down to his hand briefly, waiting desperately for him to touch you, to kiss you, anything.

“Look at me,” Minho says.

And you do, making eye contact again with his cold stare, piercing salaciously through your doe eyes.

Another smirk grows on his face as he crouches lower, and lower, dropping to his knees until he’s eye level with your aching pussy.

“Please…” you say, resting your weight back on your palms and spreading your legs further for him. Your breaths are labored, eyebrows arched up at just the thought of his tongue on you.

“Please what?”

“Please, would you… eat me out?” You request quietly, somehow internally panicked that he’ll decline.

But he doesn’t- instead he loops a finger through your underwear, pulling down in a sudden motion, eyes widened at the sight of you like this. You’re swollen with arousal, clit visibly quivering at the proximity of his breath against your folds. Your pussy is deliciously sopping for him, glazed juices painting your cunt all for him.

“God,” he breaks the silence. “You’re soaking. I could probably put it in now and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?”

You don’t answer him, tucking strands of hair behind your ears and looking down on him with anticipation.

“Okay,” Minho says with a slight chuckle. “Just relax for me.”

And without wasting another minute, his hands find purchase on your knees, scooting you closer to the edge of the table before finally burying his face in you. His tongue licks a long stripe along your pussy, smiling at the taste, before his lips latch themselves around your clit and suck harshly.

Your eyes roll back almost instantly, completely lost in the sensation of his tongue gliding back and forth over your folds like a starved animal. His plump lips remain latched to your clit, suckling with lewd wet noises and basking in the flavor of your arousal for him. As your legs tremble with pleasure, your hands quickly find themselves tangled in his hair, grinding him up against you and using his face to satisfy the delicious ache between your legs. Minho is well aware of your desperation, pulling away mere centimeters to grin at your reaction.

“Don’t stop,” you say, massaging his tresses in encouragement to keep going. Minho chuckles, this time latching on to your bundle of nerves with a gentle graze of his bunny teeth. He nibbles tenderly, eyes rolling up to watch your reaction as you sense the shift in his actions.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out frantically. “That feels so fucking good."

Minho smiles into your pussy, giving one small lick with his tongue before utilizing his velvety lips on your clit once again.

“Mmh…” he hums into your pussy, sending divine vibrations that tickle your arousal and instinctively make you moan for him.

“You taste so good,” Minho says between suckling. “I wanna make you cum for me.”

You nod down at him, rubbing little circles on his scalp and throwing your head back when he dips his tongue into your entrance.

“Oh god!”

At first he takes little kitten licks at your entrance, coming back up to kiss your clit repeatedly while you wait in anticipation. And then he brings a hand up to your entrance, sliding one finger in and working it around your pussy as he continues the unwavering attention on your bundle of nerves.

“Yeah, just like that,” you encourage him.

“You like it when I do both at once?” Minho inquires with a knowing smile.

“Yes, fuck” you can hardly answer him between the high-pitched moans that fill the dark room.

“Like when I fill you up?” A kiss on your clit. “Like when I taste you?” He laps at your folds. “Like when I fuck you like this?” Two fingers pump in and out of you now, smearing your arousal back on your clit which he wastes no time lapping up on his tongue.

“Yes, fuck Minho! Please, I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum, then. Want you to make a mess on my face.”

His fingers pump at an even faster pace while he sucks your clit between his teeth and emits a deep moan against your wetness. The vibration of his voice gives attention to the rest of your aching pussy, which finally contracts desperately around his fingers as you leak cum on his tongue. Minho licks you clean, chuckling against you when he takes your clit between his teeth again and hears you gasp in overstimulation.

Both of you say nothing as he stands back up, eye-level to you once again, his chin glazed in your juices. He rests his hands on your thighs as he did before, leaning in to press a sweet kiss on your lips and smile against you. Your hands toy with his belt buckle, tracing the pattern in your fingertips before slowly undoing the buckle and snaking the belt out from the loops on his trousers.

“Let me return the favor?” You ask against his lips, and he takes a sharp breath when you unzip his pants.

“Can I be honest?” Minho replies, and you pull away to look him in the eyes. His round eyes are dark, hooded with lust and curiously peering back at you.

He grins sheepishly, massaging your thighs with the palms of his hands as he speaks. “I think I’ve been hard for you the second you walked in here.”

The words make your heart flutter, suddenly much more aware of his contact against your skin, an insatiable desire to satisfy him and let him do whatever he may please.

Maybe you were the one mistaken all night- maybe Minho’s curt attitude and cold demeanor wasn’t in fact discourteousness at all. Perhaps he was just as drawn to you as you were to him. And now here you are, each drawn to the other like moths to a burning flame, eager to explore and make the fleeting moment last in any way you could.

You laugh at his admission, moving strands of hair out from his face and tucking your face in the crook of his neck, where he presses a chaste kiss to your temple through nervous laughter of his own.

“Yeah?” You say finally. “What are you going to do about it?”

Minho narrows his eyes with a challenging expression, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you off the table, where he now towers over you and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Turn around,” he orders candidly. Your heart flutters again at the implication- him ordering you around like this when he’s already satisfied you once. But the tone he maintains is both sweet and inviting, and you know his intentions are the same as yours.

You follow his command, facing the pool table as he presses you against the edge, arms wrapping around your waist and peppering your shoulders in little kisses.

His hands snake up your sweater, where he now cups your breasts in his large palms and unclasps your bra. Once you’re bare, you hear him pull down his trousers, the muffled sound sending chills down your spine. If you weren’t dripping with anticipation before, you certainly are now. Minho latches his lips onto your throat, suckling just enough to mark purple bruises along your neck and collarbones. Part of you wants to deny him the little pleasure, reminding him that you have work on Monday and you can’t show up looking like you spent the weekend at a frat party. But the way his skewed front teeth nibble at your flesh stings delightfully, and you can’t bring yourself to protest it.

It’s then that you feel him behind you- his erection pressing into your upper thigh. He pushes into you with force, grinding softly on your skin and moaning against your neck when he feels you lean back into him.

One of your hands reaches out to palm him over the fabric of his boxers, and he lets out a soft whimper at the contact.

“Jesus,” he says “I can’t wait anymore. Prop your leg up for me, baby. On the- yeah, just like that.”

He guides you with one hand, moving your thigh up so that he has better access to your cunt as he palms himself more with his other hand.

“Is this okay?” Minho asks, now freeing his cock from his boxers and tapping gently at your entrance. The sensation of his bare flesh against yours has you in a daze, desperate to be filled up by him.

“Mhm,” you say, drunk off the feeling of him behind you like this.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, breathing heavily as he jerks himself a few times. And without another minute to spare, he’s sliding himself inside of you, bottoming out almost instantaneously as your pussy takes him with ease.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out. “You’re so big.”

Minho smiles against your neck, pressing one chaste kiss and gathering your hair out from in front of your face.

He starts with gentle thrusts, panting in your ear and letting his hands wander all over your body as he moves. Your eyebrows arch up in pleasure, mouth agape as he picks up the pace, the wet sounds of his thrusting teeming all around you.

“God, you take me so well,” Minho breathes. “You’re so wet for me still.”

You can barely respond to him, one hand reaching up to tilt his jaw toward you so you can kiss him on the mouth again, your lips drooling with saliva and fucked-out with pleasure.

“I’m close,” Minho says into your mouth, pausing his thrusts momentarily to then pick up the pace again, much faster and with even more force.

“Ah- me too.”

As he moves in and out of your sopping cunt, one of his hands sprawls out across your tummy, pushing down with gentle pressure as he thrusts. You feel your insides contract at the sensation, now much closer to your release.

“Fuck, M-Min I’m gonna,”

He smiles against your neck again, amused with your reaction to the little move.

“Let go,” he says breathlessly into your ear. “I know you can give me a second one.”

His hand pushes down a little more, now tickling your insides with the constrained sensation against your abdomen.

And between his thrusts, you feel yourself let go around him, letting out a series of breathy moans as you cum on his still-moving cock. Only this time, you let go of everything, trickling fluids over him and the edge of the table, soaking the floor with remnants of you.

Minho’s orgasm follows just seconds after, breathing out melodic whimpers and moans as he feels you squirt, shooting ropes of his cum inside of you and fondling your breasts through his orgasm. He thrusts every last drop back into you, pulling out when he feels you shudder from overstimulation once again.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses as he pulls out. “You made a mess for me, baby.”

When you’re both finished, you’re quick to dress yourself, pulling your sweater back over your head and buttoning your jeans once again. Minho turns around while you get dressed, well aware that he was inside of you just minutes ago, but wanting to respect your boundaries now that you’re no longer being intimate. He gets dressed too, observing through the little window how the rain hasn’t started again in the entirety you’ve been up here. When you’re done, he turns back around, shooting you a little smile as you fix your hair.

“What?” You inquire, mirroring his expression as he stares back at you.

“Where have you been?” Minho asks simply.

“Hm?”

“Where have you been all my life?”

You cock your head a little, not missing the way he blinks nervously a few times after asking the question.

“Not the suburbs,” you reply with a smile. “That’s for sure.”

The gentle lull of jazz music rings through Minho’s ears as he wakes, glancing around to take in his surroundings. He’s sprawled out on the dingy red couch in the back room, still wearing last night’s clothes, hair glued to his forehead under a sheen layer of sweat. The clamoring of dishes startles him, and he furrows his brows together in annoyance as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Minho?” A voice says, and he shuts his eyes preemptively at the inquiry. “Did you…sleep here?”

When his eyelids flutter open again, he’s met with Jeongin, who’s already showered and dressed for his noon opening shift, clutching the till in both hands as he observes Minho’s disheveled state.

Beside him, the little folding table is in disarray, empty bottles of coke and peanut shells scattered everywhere. His mind goes back to last night- the arcade game, kissing you in the spare room upstairs. Fucking you over the pool table at ungodly hours of the night.

After you’d both finished, you agreed to stay in the back room downstairs until daylight when it was a bit safer to be on the road again. You and Minho chatted over diet cokes and a game of cards, between makeout sessions and desperate groping at each other in the dim light of the room. He wanted so badly to make love to you all over again, resisting the urge only because he didn’t want you to think all of this was just for sex. And maybe it started that way, when he fled back to the kitchen after helping you adjust your cue stick during a round of pool in an attempt to hide his raging hard-on. But somewhere along the way, he was also encapsulated by you- by your endearing obsession with Diet Coke, your ability to carry a conversation with a total stranger in these circumstances, and undoubtedly, your unique talent at fixing things.

It was just past 5 when you left, doing a double-take at Minho’s snoring figure to ensure he was actually asleep. You wanted to thank him- in fact, you stood over him for several minutes, playing the conversation in your head of how this would go.

“I’m leaving now- thanks for the life-changing sex and the free sodas. Call me if you’re ever in the city you despise.”

There was no good way to go about it- any which way, you knew that the two of you were destined for very different things, to live completely separate lives.

“You’ve never lived without the notion of wanting to migrate as soon as possible,” Minho had said to you earlier, and you knew he was right, even still longing to one day get out of this province, and maybe even this country. A simpler life scared you- exactly what Minho chased after. And perhaps by extension, chasing after Minho scared you, too.

The dive bar suddenly feels suffocating to Minho, still looming with the rotten scent of cigarettes and beers. For the first time ever, he feels boxed in, much too confined by the four walls and the foggy window at the back.

“I’m leaving,” Minho says, quickly gathering his bag and his blazer from off the floor.

“Where are you going?” Jeongin asks, still holding the till and scanning Minho with a worried expression on his face.

Minho isn’t sure where- in fact, he’s not quite sure about anything right now. All he knows is that you’ve sparked something in him, something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time. The days of working as a private chef paint vivid memories in his mind, days which he still had passion within him, trying new recipes late through the night and never ceasing to better his methods. A time that now feels one lifetime ago, much more complex in juxtaposition with this new life. Except maybe simple wasn’t the solution all along- for once, he’s determined to bask in all your complexities, even if it means sacrificing everything he left the city to pursue.

“I’m going to the city,” Minho says, combing through his hair with his fingers.

“The city? I thought you hated it there?”

Minho says nothing, sauntering to the door and fishing his car keys out of the drawer by the register.

“Oh, and Jeongin-ah?”

“Yes?”

“Call someone to move that arcade game downstairs.”

“The Pac-Man one? It doesn’t work-”

“It does now,” Minho replies. “Just promise me it’ll be down here when I get back.”

“Sure thing. But- how’d you get it to work?”

And without looking back, Minho approaches the double doors, keys in hand, no particular destination in mind. The gray clouds have nearly cleared up by now, fresh hues of blue painting the vast sky that overlooks the day ahead. The city calls out to him from afar, bustling traffic and busy roads clouded in pollution. But this time, he answers, in hopes you’ll be there, too.

#bro han be cheating left and right #stray kids #skz smut #lee minho #lee know #stray kids hard hours #lee know smut #lee know scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x you #I love pac man too <333

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stray-but-okay · 22 hours ago

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Some things are just not meant to be

#stray kids #skz #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #lee know #lee minho #sea breeze #SKZ Neighborhood Watch #SKZ CODE

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minho-knows · 13 hours ago

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LEE KNOW - SKZ CODE EP.63

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sugarushwriting · 3 days ago

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exotic dancer lee minho x reader

you just ended a relationship, your friends try to cheer you up

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

too lazy to proof read sorry

“come on it’ll be fun!”

“momo, you’re talking about male strippers!”

“ah ah, exotic dancers!” momo tsked.

momo and your three other friends dragged you into the strip club where the exotic male dancers were.

background context: you were just dumped by your fiancé of 6 months, who claimed he didn’t love you or wanted to be with you.

you both had dated on and off for 3 years, before he finally proposed 6 months ago. turns out he felt pressured and didn’t want to actually be with you anymore.

3 days ago you found him out in public with his new girlfriend. who yunjin did some digging on, and found your ex had been seeing her for 3 months.

while you two were engaged to be married.

it hurt you. you tried so hard to act like it didn’t, because truth be told, you weren’t actually happy with him. you also felt pressure and the need to be married.

you were in your late twenties, the only thing you had were your career and cats. although that was enough to you, it wasn’t enough for your parents. it wasn’t necessarily that they wanted grandkids, but someone who would take care of you once they pass on.

although you were independent, your parents didn’t want to see you grow old and alone.

inside, the club was all dark lights, poles galore, and shirtless men even more.

before taking a seat, you all stopped by the bar to grab drinks.

you weren’t complaining about the view, it’s just something you weren’t used to—or ever did.

“what am i supposed to do?” you asked lost, looking around.

momo led you and your friends to a booth, a pole and stage in the middle.

“relax, let the men dance for you, and tip!”

“do i touch them?”

“only if they invite you to.” momo winked.

you looked at the pamphlet on near the booth’s table, “it looks like this dancer’s name is, cat daddy?”

“mhm, he can be the daddy of my cat, any day.”

“sana, you don’t have a cat.”

“yes i do, and she’s purring right now.” sana laughed, mina, nayeon and momo joining in.

it took you a while to understand the innuendo, and you joined in the laughter, you all quickly quieting down when a man with cat ears came into view near the booth.

with a smirk, he bowed, his muscles showing off in the black sleeveless top he had on, and the tight black pants showing his strong thighs.

“i’m cat daddy, how can i help you beautiful ladies this evening?”

sana and mina fanned themselves, momo engaging in conversation with a pout, “our friend here just went through a terrible break up and could use a great distraction.” momo’s hands were on your shoulder to let the man know who it was.

“i’m sorry to hear that miss, but i can be of great service to distract you.”

“mhm, would you be a great service and give her a private dance? on me, of course, i’ll pay.” momo smirked, catching you off guard as your eyes went wide.

“mo—,” you went to say but she patted your bare thigh to get you to hush.

“of course, is the lady okay with that?” he turned to you, an eyebrow raised up. almost a little taunting or dare for you to say no.

“oh, yeah, i’m okay with that.” you replied.

with a smile, he grabbed your hand, your friends cheering in the back ground. the man led you in hand to the back, where many private rooms where, accompanied by a couple of guards by the main entrance.

“should i call you cat daddy? or is there another name i can use? or maybe you would like to know my name?” you rambled off. you ended up telling the man your name.

with a chuckle, he turned around to face you, a big smile plastered on his face. “i’ll all you kitten. fitting to my name, right?”

“i mean yeah—,”

“and you can just call me daddy.”

your eyes once again went wide, your body rigid at his words. not only your heart thumping in excitement, but also down south.

he pulled you into a vacant room, closing the door behind him, after turning the sign on the door, to say ‘occupied.’

he gestured for you to sit on the chair of the bed in the room.

you choose the bed as it looked the comfiest. “see, uh, i’ve never been at a place like this, so i don’t know what to do,” you rambled as you sat.

he never took his eyes off of you, like a predator stalking his prey.

you kept rambling, unaware of (or trying to ignore) him getting closer to you, soon his face right in front of yours, almost nose to nose.

“lay down kitten.”

“what—,”

you gasped when he forcefully laid you down, you suddenly sitting up on your forearms to look at him like he lost his damn mind.

that thought quickly went away, when he took off his shirt, almost teasingly, rolling his body as he did.

he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs so he stood in between them. grabbing your hands, he held them against his abs, your fingers scratching along, his head tilting back as he moaned lightly from your cold touch.

he guided your hands up to his chest, and around his neck, as he leaned down to your ear. “if you let me, i can make you forget and feel real good for whatever that ex of yours did.” he whispered, sending shivers down your body.

he leaned back to look you in your eyes, you lost in his. he looked so innocent with those eyes of his, but you had a feeling, deep down, he wasn’t so innocent when it came to bed activities.

you smirked, “as long as the ears stay on.”

he smiled back knowingly, “mhm, kitten, i knew you had a side to you that was masked by that innocent act.” he kissed your neck, and whispered, “call me minho.”

minho kissed you once, before his hands grabbed yours again, this time to his pants, wanting you to help him take them off.

you didn’t expect your girls day to turn into a girls night, let alone a night where you end up at an exotic male dancers strip club.

you didn’t expect tonight to become so entranced by a man you didn’t know, to want to know his secrets, wants, and find out why he chose this job or life.

you for sure didn’t expect to have helped a man undress, leaving on his cat ears, and he undressing you of your short skirt and top.

and lastly, you didn’t even think tonight would end up with you on your back, in said club, in a private room, having said man licking between your folds like it was his last day eating on earth.

“oh—oh my,” you gasped then moaned, your hand shooting to minho’s fluffy hair, your back arching off the bed.

his tongue worked between your folds, nose nudging your clit, fingers used to spread you more open for him.

minho hummed and moaned, quietly showing his appreciation for letting him between your thighs.

for the way he was making you feel, you wanted to thank him. ex definitely forgotten, your mind focused on minho’s tongue, the noises, and the grips his hands now had on your thighs to keep you open as you kept threatening to close the closer you got to coming on his tongue.

“minho, i’m—i’m,”

“i know kitten, let go for me, mhm?” he hummed kissing your clit, before his tongue burrowed deep in your opening, you soon becoming over sensitive.

“fuck!” you gasped out, hand gripped tight on minho’s hair, as you tried to calm your racing heart, your chest up and down.

minho kissed up your stomach, to your naked chest, deciding against overstimulating you. for now.

he licked one free nipple, then the other. he continued his way up to find your neck, his teeth latching the skin for a teasing bite.

minho sat up, knees on either side of you, you reached up to his calvin klein boxers, your fingers teasing the band. it sent chills through minho’s body, his dick becoming harder with the touch.

“don’t tease me, kitten.” he warned through a moan.

you smiled, taking out his dick from the tight black boxers, him hard and tip red, already leaking a bit of precome.

with a lick, you lightly brush led your tongue against his tip, before leaving a kiss. you pulled away, your thumb rubbing circles on the tip.

no hesitation, minho scooted closer as smoothly as he could with his boxers around his thighs, and shoved his dick in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with a gag.

you quickly adjusting yourself to his thickness, and grabbed minho’s ass in your hand as he did the work by rocking and rolling his hips against your mouth.

“that’s it baby, take all of me.” he moaned quietly, you getting wet by each second. you were ready for him to just ruin you between your legs. to leave his everlasting mark.

with spits of curses and moans, it didn’t take much longer until minho stilled and came in your mouth.

pulling out, some leaked from your lips, minho quickly running his tongue against the side of your lips before he kissed you, tongue forcing itself inbetween your lips, in your mouth.

spit mixing, sloppy and wet, minho slipped the boxers off of his thighs, never detaching his lips from yours. he laid over you, his tip teasing your folds and clit.

you bit his bottom lip, tugging it between your teeth. “ruin me. distract me more.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, as minho plunged his dick into you, no waiting for adjustment.

you let out a gasp at the intrusion, but the gasp was of pleasure, and minho hummed, loving the sounds from your lips.

“i’ll make you forget all about past men you thought could please you, kitten.” minho rolled his hips, to aim deeply into you as much as he could. he wanted to be slow first.

the way he rolled his hips, and whenever he did, hit the right spot in you.

“minho,” you squealed, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“mhm that’s it kitten, scream my name. minho—daddy, will make you forget all about those pathetic excuses of past mistakes.”

you could speak, so you just nodded. eyes closed, as tears threatened to spill at how good he was making you feel.

minho suddenly changed his pace from slow to rough. his hips snapping back before forward, your thighs wrapped around him, thigh on thigh skin slapping.

minho pulled out, getting off the bed, before he tugged you along with him.

you brain was gone dumb, as he guided you to the chair, you gripped one of the arms of the chair, minho lifted your right leg to rest on the chair as the other stayed flat on the floor.

minho plunged into you from behind, the new angle, literally causing your own pussy to squeal along with you. you gasped, mouth wide open, as minho rocked his hips from behind you, fucking into you from behind. cheeks clapping, his hand wrapped around your throat, his veins on display, as his index finger forced its way into your mouth.

you sucked on his finger, his pace never faltering, you felt your pussy leaking from all the wetness coming from you.

his other hand snuck around your body, so two of his fingers could start adding pressure to your clit, sending you to the edge.

you didn’t mean to, but you slightly bit his finger, before screaming out his name. “minho!”

your brain and mind really turned to mush, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your vision going dark.

you came hard around his dick, sure leaving a ring of white around the base.

but minho’s thrusts became rougher and sloppier, as he chased his own. he was finally overstimulating you into oblivion and submission.

one of your hand gripped the chair’s arm tightly, the other gripping minho’s forearm, he gripped your chin so your head rested against his chest, your eyes facing him the best to your ability.

your body was in a position you didn’t know was possible, back arched so much, minho loved the sight in front of him.

he loved watching his dick disappear between your folds, your ass hitting perfectly against his hips.

with one last thrust, minho grunted, pulling out to leave his come on your backside. thick and warm, he breathed heavily, as if he ran a marathon. you nearly collapsed on the chair, but minho caught you to help you back to the bed, placing you on the bed.

he grabbed some wet wipes that were placed on a table in the room (next to the condoms you both ignored) and wiped his come off of you, and wiping between your thighs gently before he cleaned up himself.

“how, how am i supposed to walk out there like nothing happened?” you groaned out, struggling to sit up.

minho laughed, “you don’t, you do the walk of shame.”

“there was nothing shameful about that.” you grinned. “other than maybe fucking in a club.” you rolled on your back, laid out.

no time to rethink life choices or reminisce about what just happened.

you had to first put your clothes (and find your underwear), then think of how to exit while steady on your feet.

it wasn’t that you were in pain, but more so still over stimulated losing feeling in your legs.

“there’s an exit out back. you can tell your friends to pick you up there if you want to avoid lookers.”

you nodded. “best idea.”

minho, back dressed, cat ears still on, he walked out to find your friends. you quickly dressed, still not finding your underwear, but did your best to look presentable.

minho walked back to the private room. “they’ll meet you out back with a rideshare. is your place far?”

you shook your head, “we rented a hotel a block away. we live about 2 hours away from here.”

“different city to avoid people you may know?”

you nodded shyly. “yeah.”

minho walked closer to help you stand up, “kind of disappointing you live so far from me kitten. i would have loved to see you again.”

you felt hot, nearly blushing. “um, you don’t need to sweet talk me. you made me feel better and distract me.”

minho’s finger went to your chin, you lift your head up to look into his eyes, “kitten, if you think i do what i just did with you, with anyone, you’re mistaken.”

he kissed your lips tenderly. “why me?” you whispered.

minho shrugged. “honestly don’t know.” he smiled when you initiated a kiss this time. “promise to come see me, again?”

“mhm, maybe.” you teased. minho gripped your hips, and you chuckled, “okay, yes, i will.”

“good. especially since i know you’ll want your blue underwear back.”

#fanfiction #stray kids #lee minho smut #minho one shot #stray kids x reader #stray kids lee know #lee know oneshot #lee know drabble #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee minho x reader #stray kids smut

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babybearcubbs · 3 days ago

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NAAAAAAAAH THE SEUNGMIN ONE IS INSANE I'M FUCKING DEAD OMG😭😭😭 I fucking FELT that omg but honestly love that so much

📱"Would you date other people if I wasn't born?" w/ BF!SKZ📱

☀️Feelbokkie M.list☀️

genre: some crack, some fluff

pov: 1st or 2nd Person (depending on how you view it)

description: asking boyfriend the very serious question of if they would date someone if you weren't born

pairing: bf!skz x gn!reader (individual)

warnings: swearing

screenshot count: 8

방찬 (Bang Chan)

이민호 (Lee Know)

서창빈 (Changbin)

황현진 (Hyunjin)

한지성 (Han)

이용복 (Felix)

김승민 (Seungmin)

양정인 (I.N)

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Permanent Taglist (closed)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyysfics @berryblog @jaydebow @junebug032 @boiohboii

@heistheavatar @lieslab @rainbae-anon @k-cock @hamburgers101

@mrswolfiechan @soulboundauthor @weird-bookworm @thisisnotjacinta @seungmyynie

@halesandy @kpopsstuffs @honeydew93 @beebee18 @stay278

@jaiuneamesolitaiire @babrieeee @brain-empty-only-draken @tenmii @blueforte

@jihanlovic @felixglow @nuronhe @soonyoungblr @phtogravi

@jiisungllvr @puppyminnnie

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 23 hours ago

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Friends to Lovers : Minho

Warnings : swearing, food, pet names (kitten)

A/N : With the idea I had in my head for this one, I ended up making Y/n a girl. But there are only a couple texts that references that. Regardless, I just wanted to let you know since I know my texts usually are gender neutral. I hope you still enjoy these ones as much as the others, and I'll try to keep my fake texts gender neutral in the future 💕

Synopsis : Growing up, you always just walked into Minho's family home. It became a habit, a routine. So much so that when Minho got a place of his own, he gave you a key and told you to come over whenever. Little did either of you know just how much was going to change.

@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @cadenonlinelive @weird-bookworm @turtledove824 @lakoya @lookitsjess @yukichan67 @xocandyy @alnex05 @qveenbibi @lghtdarling @palindrome969 @beebee18 @guiltycoco @goddess-of-the-dark @kaiyaba @theminimochi @joyofbebbanburg

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sheerfreesia007 · 8 hours ago

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Love Postage

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word count: 1,986

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: You’re used to traveling a lot for your career and would often buy Minho souvenirs from the places that you travel too. But what happens when you find a new way to show him that you’re thinking of him on your travels? And what happens when he displays those gestures proudly in his apartment?

Jagi: Sweetheart

Walking through the departure gate of your flight you enter the Cairo International Airport and take in a deep breath of air, after being on your flight for hours you were more than happy to finally be off of it and able to stretch your legs and breathe in fresh air. You’re traveling on a work trip for a project that has been months in the making and a project that you were not only spearheading for your company but also very passionate about. You were helping the start up of the Egyptian branch of your company and couldn’t wait to see all of your hard work come to fruition, this would now be your third time in Egypt and you were finally becoming comfortable with the country and the area that the new branch would be in.

As you walked through the airport towards the exit where you knew your counterpart here would be waiting for you, something brightly colored caught your eye in one of the little shops in the airport. Turning towards it you saw a tall spinning rack full of postcards with different scenes of Egypt on them. You grinned softly as you spotted one with a zoomed in picture of a camel. But you gasped softly when you found one with a picture of the three pyramids at sunset and a duo of camels in front. You quickly plucked the postcard from the rack and brought it to the register to pay for it knowing that your boyfriend Minho would love it.

Ever since you started dating Minho almost a year ago you had formed the habit of picking him up little souvenirs from all the places that you would travel to for work. It was your way of showing him that you were thinking about him on your travels and always wanting to show him that you cared. But recently you started noticing that his collection of souvenirs was becoming too big for him to store comfortably so you had figured that you would have to find a new way of showing him that you were thinking about him. As you paid for the postcard you thought maybe this would be an easier way for him to see that you cared and thought about him while you were away.

*-*-*-*

Two days later and half way through your work trip you were met with some down time that you were able to spend going sight seeing around the city. You had managed to tour the pyramids for a few hours before returning to your hotel room where you would need to get ready for dinner with the employees for the Egyptian branch. Laying back on your hotel bed you grabbed your phone and sent Minho a text asking if he was free for a video call. When you quickly received a response you couldn’t help but smile at his eagerness before your phone began to ring.

“Jagi!” he cried happily as his face appeared on your screen and you beamed happily at him.

“Hello my love.” you cooed at him and he bashfully smiled at your greeting just as Jisung could be heard in the background calling out for you.

“Hi Jagi!” Jisung called out and you laughed as Minho rolled his eyes at his best friend.

“She’s my Jagi, not yours.” he scolded Jisung who butted his way into the video screen causing you to laugh at the two of them as they bickered back and forth.

“I miss you. Both of you but mostly Minho.” you told them around your laughter and the two men settled together with their faces pressed together as they watched you on the screen.

“Are you having a good trip Jagi? Are you eating well?” Minho asked curiously as his eyes darted around the screen.

“No, ask her if she’s seen any of the tourist sights there.” Jisung argued and you grinned at the two of them

“I am eating well, I have a dinner that I have to get ready for a little bit. But I wanted to call you and tell you about the Pyramid tour that I went on today.” you told the both of them fondly. “It was so amazing being able to walk through some of the pyramids! It’s cramped in there in certain places but other parts of the pyramids opens up and you’re able to walk at full height.” you explain to them and they nod their heads along to your words. “I can’t wait to bring you here with me Minho.” you say wistfully and he grins lovingly at you at your words.

“When your company has the opening ceremony for the new branch, I will make sure that I can come with you. I’ll clear it with the company and we can go visit the Pyramids together.” he promises you and you blow him a kiss which makes his ear tint pink with delight.

“I would love that. How are you doing? Are you able to relax or are you all super busy with work?” you ask worriedly and Minho shakes his head at your questions.

“We’re okay Jagi. No need to worry about us.” Minho tells you fondly as he smiles softly at your worry.

“Alright, I have to start getting ready for dinner. I’ll send you a picture of my outfit before I go, okay?” you tell them and Minho nods while smiling at you. “I love and miss you Minho.” you say softly to him with a dreamy smile and he blushes heavily at your confession while Jisung makes kissy faces at you before pouting. “Love and miss you too Jisung.” you say teasingly while rolling your eyes as the man cheers and exits the screen with a holler as Minho scowls at him. “But I love you most Minho.” you say sweetly and he grins at you sweetly.

“Love and miss you too Jagi.” he tells you before hanging up on the call. As you get up from the bed you spot the plastic bag from the airport that holds your postcard in it and you grin widely. Moving to the desk in the corner you take the postcard out of the bag and grab the hotel pen that they provide. You think for a moment before you put the pen to the postcard and start writing out a lovely letter to Minho. When done you grin down at the postcard and make plans to have it mailed out before you leave for dinner.

*-*-*-*

The next time you see Minho it’s after your work trip and you’ve returned home, he invited you to his apartment for dinner to welcome you home and you gladly accepted. When you arrive he’s in the kitchen cooking already as you let yourself into his shared apartment with Jisung. You walk into the kitchen and wrap your arms around him behind as you press your body flush to his back humming softly as your lips graze his neck gently.

”Hello, my love.” You coo at him and he chuckles softly as he melts back into you while still stirring the food in the pot on the stove.

”Hello, Jagi.” He responds fondly to you. “Dinner will be ready shortly.” He says softly before turning his head and pressing a kiss to your temple. You breathe him in with a quiet hum as you squeeze him a little tighter in your arms. “You alright?” He asks quietly and you nod your head before resting your forehead on his shoulder.

”Just missed you.” You say softly and he pats your crossed hands on his stomach.

”I miss you too Jagi.” He tells you and you smile fondly at him before kissing his clothed shoulder and then let him go.

”I’m going to go put my overnight bag in your bedroom. Then I’ll be back and set the table.” You tell him and he nods at you before you slip out of the kitchen and head to where you had dropped your overnight bag. As you pass the desk resting against the wall near the living room you spot Minho’s cork board that he always pins important things to and something catches your eye. You halt your movement and turn to the cork board before a wide smile blossoms on your face, there in the middle of the cork board is your postcard from Egypt pinned as if it was the most important thing on that board and you feel your heart thud heavily in your chest with love for the man.

After putting your bag in his bedroom and returning to the kitchen you can’t help but to tease the sweet man. You walk up to him as he stands at the stove and press a quick kiss to his cheek which makes him jolt in surprise before turning to you with slightly tinted ears and wide eyes. You chuckle at his reaction and he clears his throat to try and distract himself from your gesture.

”What was that for?” He asked curiously and you grin at him.

”You put my silly little postcard up in the middle of your important cork board.” You tease him gently and he scoffs softly at you as he continues to cook. You figure he won’t respond to you so you turn to the cabinets and begin to pull out bowls and silverware for the two of you.

”Of course I put it in the middle. It’s the most important thing on that board.” He tells you honestly and you whip your head to stare at him with wide eyes. He smirks at your reaction before explaining more. “I loved your postcard. It made my heart race when I received it in the mail. And then when I read all your wants of bringing me to Egypt with you to show me all the sights that you’ve come to love already, it made my heart feel as if it was there in Egypt with you. Like I was already there sharing those experiences with you.” He admits. “Whenever I pass the board and see your postcard there I’m reminded of my reaction to receiving it and it’s like I’m receiving it all over again. It’s a reminder of how you think about me and love me even when you’re countries away. I love that reminder.” He said honestly and you beam happily at him before setting the bowls and silverware down. He turns to you hurriedly already knowing your plan of attack as you near him quickly. He wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you close before his lips fall against yours lovingly. “I absolutely adore you and the love you hold for me is something I hope to never lose.” He confesses softly against your lips and you hum at him.

”You never will, my love. You’re mine and I’m yours for however long we deem fit.” You tell him.

”And if I want forever?” He asks breathlessly as his eyes search your own.

”Then I will give you forever.” You whisper against his lips before pressing yours against his lovingly. He sighs softly against you before the two of you fall into your kiss.

*-*-*-*

Over the years the postcard was swapped with different ones from different countries that you traveled to for work telling Minho about the sights that you would like to take him to. But as the postcards were swapped for new ones soon pictures of the two of you in each country at different tourist sights started to appear on the important board. Some pictures even featured an excited Jisung as well. Soon the important cork board turned into a cork board filled with love and while Minho had originally planned for it to be filled with important things that he would have to keep track of he was perfectly fine with its new evolution.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho

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estellan0vella · 2 days ago

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Sunshine's Guide To Murder│Lee Minho

Chapter Twenty Eight: I Bite SS: 18 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 3.2K Content Warnings: talks of murder, talks of blunt force trauma, Minho butt hunter mentions, Previous Next Masterlist

The living room is bathed in the warm, amber glow of the setting sun. Dust motes drift lazily through the air, catching the light filtering through the partially drawn curtains. Hayun, Jisung, Minho, Felix, and Jeongin are sprawled across the couches. The coffee table is a war zone of empty snack bowls, discarded honey butter chip bags, and soju bottles in various stages of emptiness.

Hayun’s legs are stretched out across Minho’s lap on the loveseat, and he’s absentmindedly massaging her ankle while sipping from his soju bottle. His fingers press into the arch of her foot, eliciting the occasional involuntary sigh from her. The faint hum of TikTok videos plays from her phone, the screen illuminating her face in the dim room.

Jeongin leans forward in the armchair, tapping his fingers on the neck of his soju bottle, his expression one of barely contained excitement. “Hyunjin’s supposed to be here soon. The second he gets here, we’re updating the murder board. I’ve got markers, post-its, magnets. All the fucking works.”

Jisung groans dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “Dude, we’re supposed to be chilling, not solving crimes right now. You’re, like, aggressively obsessive about that board.”

Jeongin shrugs, unabashed, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Well, someone’s gotta keep this shit together. If it were up to someone, we’d all be sitting here watching Levi Ackerman edits and eating expired ramen.”

At the mention of Levi Ackerman, all eyes swivel toward Hayun. She’s curled up on her side, completely engrossed in her phone. She doesn’t even glance up, her thumb scrolling as Levi slices through Titans in slow motion, his signature scowl practically radiating from the tiny screen.

Minho leans over, peeking at her phone with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? Isn’t that guy, like 5’3” or some shit?”

Hayun finally tears her gaze away from her phone, her expression filled with righteous indignation. “Yeah, and?”

Minho smirks, leaning back against the loveseat. “Just saying, he’s not exactly intimidating. I could probably punt him across a field.”

Hayun scoffs, sitting up straighter, her tone dripping with mockery as she shows Minho her screen. “But could you look this good doing it?”

Minho narrows his eyes at her, and Felix nearly chokes on his drink, laughing. “Oh, she got you there,” Felix says, pointing at Minho with his bottle. “Levi might be short, but he’s got should have been the main character energy. You? You’re just the funny best friend.”

“Wow,” Minho mutters, holding a hand to his chest as if physically wounded. “The fucking disrespect in this house.”

Jisung jumps in, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “It’s not disrespect if it’s true, dude. Levi’s untouchable.”

Hayun smirks, leaning into the banter. “Exactly. Levi Ackerman came first. Sorry, Minho.”

The room erupts in laughter, and Minho throws his hands in the air, his smirk still lingering despite the ribbing. “You’re all traitors. Every single one of you.”

Jisung, emboldened by the chaos, sits up straighter, pointing a finger at Minho. “She can have a 2D boyfriend and a 3D one, but let’s be real, you two haven’t even put a label on it yet.”

Minho’s smirk falters slightly, his eyes narrowing as he shifts his attention to Jisung. “And have you put a label on it with Hyunjin? Or are you still just stuttering every time he calls you cute?”

The jab lands perfectly. Jisung freezes, his soju bottle halfway to his mouth. He glances around the room as if searching for an escape route. “Oh, wow, look at that! Is that a crack in the paint? Someone should definitely fix that.”

Jeongin leans back in his chair, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “You’re deflecting. That’s a classic guilty move, Ji.”

Felix nudges Jisung with his elbow, laughing. “Spill it, dude. Did you make out with him or what?”

Jisung glares at Felix, taking a long swig of soju before muttering, “You’re all fucking annoying. Maybe back off and focus on Hayun and Minho’s ‘will-they-won’t-they’ bullshit.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat as he rests his arm casually along the back, just behind Hayun’s shoulders. “There’s no mystery. I’m clearly her favourite.”

Hayun, without missing a beat, takes a sip of her soju and deadpans, “Right after Levi Ackerman.”

The room explodes into laughter again, and Minho throws his head back with a groan. “You wound me, princess,” he says, clutching his chest in mock agony.

Jisung is doubled over, laughing so hard tears are forming in his eyes. “She said what she said! You’re runner-up, my guy. You’ve been bested by a fucking anime character.”

Felix raises his bottle in a faux toast, his voice filled with mock solemnity. “To Minho: second place to a fictional character who’s shorter than most children.”

Jeongin chimes in, grinning. “Levi’s got that energy, though. Can’t compete with that.”

Minho flips them all off, shaking his head. “Fuck all of you. I’m done. You’re all banned from my car, my house, and my life.”

Hayun, still grinning, raises her glass and clinks it against his bottle. “Cheers to that, second place.”

Minho glares at her, but the corner of his mouth twitches upward, betraying his amusement. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The front door swings open, and Hyunjin strolls in with Chan, Changbin, and Seungmin trailing behind. Hyunjin doesn’t waste time, flopping onto the couch like it’s his own place. He pulls a bottle of soju from his tote bag.

“So,” Hyunjin starts, taking a swig before leaning back dramatically. “Yeji had severe blunt force trauma like I said in the group chat. The hit came from someone around her height, but that doesn’t narrow it down much. You know, heels, platforms, the whole deal.”

He pauses for effect, watching as the group leans in. “The weapon was cylindrical, like a pole or something. The dead person doctor wasn’t sure.”

Minho raises an eyebrow, resting his hand casually on Hayun’s shin as she reclines beside him on the loveseat. “And the guy just told you all of this? Just handed over the autopsy details?”

Hyunjin grins, his confidence borderline obnoxious. “Yeah. A sucker for crocodile tears. I pulled out my best ‘poor grieving cousin’ act. Flawless, if I do say so myself.”

Chan shakes his head, rubbing his temples. “You’re ridiculous.”

Hayun shifts, her legs still draped over Minho’s lap, and leans forward slightly. “Cylindrical, like a pole or-” Her voice trails off as her eyes lock onto the murder board. “A police baton.”

The room stills. Jeongin grabs a marker and strides to the board, scrawling “#1 Suspect” under Mr. Shin’s picture with bold strokes. The tension in the room tightens, like a noose around the group’s collective theory.

Jisung raises his bottle in a mock toast. “Honestly, we should digitize this board at this point. Easier to keep track of all the crazy shit we’ve been uncovering.”

Jeongin smirks, twirling the marker between his fingers. “Already done. It’s on my laptop, saved on two separate flash drives, just in case.”

Hayun nods approvingly. “See, this is why you’re the brains of the operation.”

Felix laughs, clinking his bottle against Jeongin’s. “And the most paranoid.”

Hayun, Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin all move to stand in the middle of the living room, passing the marker between them like they’re brainstorming for a high-stakes exam.

Jisung tosses the marker to Hayun. “Maybe Mr. Shin followed Yeji when she went to check on the body?”

Hayun catches it effortlessly, spinning it between her fingers. “What if he found out the truth? Ryujin killed Yuna, and Yeji stashed the body. He could’ve snapped.”

Felix grabs the marker mid-air. “But he didn’t kill Ryujin.”

Jeongin snatches it next, tapping it against his palm as he speaks. “Maybe he’s spacing it out. Put some time between the murders. Less obvious. Or maybe because he already lost one daughter and doesn't want to lose a second"

Felix nods thoughtfully, handing the marker back to Jisung. “Or what if Ryujin gave him some half-truth? Like, she wasn’t entirely sure about the plan she made with Yunnie to frame Mingi.”

Hayun narrows her eyes, crossing her arms. “So she gets ahead of it, tells her dad what Mingi did to her and how Yuna was involved.”

Jeongin adds, “Then she spins it so Yeji’s the villain. Says Yeji killed Yuna and forced Ryujin to stay quiet. Mr. Shin flips, makes Yeji take him to Yuna’s body, and then BAM!” He claps his hands for emphasis. “Smacks her over the head, she dies, and he dumps her in the tank.”

The four of them stop, staring at the board as though waiting for it to confirm their theory. The room feels electric with energy, theories bouncing off the walls.

From the corner of the room, Minho leans back, watching them with a bemused expression. Chan nudges him, gesturing at the chaos. “Is this… normal?”

Minho smirks, resting a hand on Hayun’s abandoned bottle of soju. “Completely. It’s how they think. They bounce ideas off each other until something sticks.”

Felix tosses the marker back to Hayun. “Ryujin didn’t know where Yeji hid Yuna’s body, right?”

Hayun nods, pacing slightly as she speaks. “Not until the news broke. Yeji was the only one who knew.”

Jisung catches the marker from her, spinning it dramatically. “Then Mr. Shin had to follow Yeji. Or maybe Ryujin told him Yeji was involved.”

Felix snatches it from Jisung with a quick grab. “What if he held Yeji at gunpoint? Forced her to take him to the body?”

Jeongin grabs the marker next, his voice cutting through the rising tension. “So we all agree? We're investigating Mr Shin?"

There’s a pause as the room collectively breathes in. Then, all at once, everyone says, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Hayun grabs another bottle of soju from the crate near the couch, twisting the cap off. She drops back onto the loveseat, and Minho immediately wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling her snugly into his side. She lets out a soft sigh, resting her head on his chest as she takes a sip of her drink.

Jisung, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his own bottle in hand, frowns thoughtfully. “Wait. How the fuck do we even go about investigating a police officer? Like, what’s the play here?”

Everyone falls silent for a moment, glancing around at each other like someone’s supposed to have a genius idea locked and loaded.

Seungmin finally breaks the silence with a deadpan expression. “Apparently, the jury’s out on that one.”

Chan leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, and shrugs. “Anyone got any ideas? Even bad ones. At this point, I’ll take literally anything.”

That’s all the encouragement Jisung, Hyunjin, and Changbin need. They light up like Christmas trees, clearly ready to share the absolute worst plans possible.

Jisung lifts his bottle in mock seriousness. “Okay, hear me out: we tunnel into the police station. Like, fucking gopher style. Steal his files, then scurry back out before anyone notices.”

Hayun raises her hand lazily from her spot against Minho. “Claustrophobic, so I’m out.”

Minho chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. “Smart move.”

Hyunjin sits up straighter, his face deadly serious. “Alright, my turn. I could seduce him.”

Felix squints at him. “He’s straight, though, right?”

Hyunjin shrugs dramatically, a smirk playing on his lips. “You don’t know until you know.”

Felix takes a slow sip of his soju, nodding in reluctant agreement. “That is… more than fair, actually.”

Changbin claps his hands together. “We fake reports of gas leaks in his neighbourhood. Say he needs to evacuate his house for safety.”

Jeongin blinks at him, his voice dry as the Sahara. “He’s a fucking police officer. He can check that shit.”

Hayun snorts softly against Minho’s chest, her shoulders shaking with quiet laughter.

Jisung, undeterred, raises his bottle like he’s making a toast. “We could kidnap him!”

Hyunjin jumps in immediately, smacking Jisung’s hand in a high five. “And torture him for answers!”

Minho groans loudly, staring at them like they’ve grown second heads. “They just need to hurry the fuck up and either fuck or get together or something.”

Hayun nods sagely, tipping her bottle toward Jisung and Hyunjin. “Agreed. It’s painful to watch.”

Jisung turns to Chan with a mock gasp after hearing Chan mutter about a lack of brain cells. “Excuse you! Hyunjin, Changbin and I are professional theorists, okay?”

Felix raises an eyebrow. “Theorists of what? Dumbass ideas?”

Jisung smirks. “Creative solutions.”

Hyunjin leans into the bit, flipping his hair dramatically. “Visionaries, if you will.”

Chan groans, running a hand down his face. “Why the fuck did I agree to come here tonight?”

“Because you love us,” Hayun says sweetly, raising her bottle in a toast to him.

Chan mutters something unintelligible into his drink, but his smirk gives him away.

Seungmin rolls his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “We’re doomed.”

The house is steeped in a drunken warmth when the group finally winds down from their chaotic night. Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Minho, and Seungmin have all decided to crash at the house, their earlier drinking rendering driving an impossibility.

Jeongin pulls Chan upstairs toward his bedroom with an easy grin, Chan following with his own subtle smirk. The two disappear into Jeongin’s room, the door clicking shut behind them without a word to the others.

Meanwhile, Felix drags a massive air mattress out of the airing cupboard, huffing as he unfolds it in the middle of the living room. “Help me with this shit,” he says, nudging Changbin with his foot.

“I’m not the one who owns it,” Changbin grumbles, but he helps anyway, rolling it flat as Hyunjin tosses some pillows and blankets onto it. Seungmin simply sits on the couch, sipping water and watching the chaos unfold with a faintly amused expression.

Once the mattress is ready, the three of them settle onto it, Hyunjin taking the middle and sprawling out dramatically. “Room for one more?” he jokes, earning himself an eye roll from Seungmin and a snort from Changbin.

“You’ll be lucky if we don’t smother you in your sleep,” Seungmin mutters, lying on his side and pulling a blanket over himself.

“Love you too,” Hyunjin chirps, before flopping onto his back with a satisfied sigh.

Felix heads into his room, mumbling something about needing to scroll through TikTok to relax. Jisung waves lazily before heading to his room, shutting the door behind him. Minho and Hayun linger in the hallway for a moment before Minho follows her into her bedroom.

Inside, Hayun flicks on her bedside lamp, the soft yellow glow washing over the room. She peels off her oversized jumper, revealing a black lace bralette and black yoga shorts beneath. Her fluffy Hufflepuff socks stay firmly in place, adding a touch of cosy absurdity to her otherwise sleek look.

Minho leans back against her door, watching her with a small smirk. “You really commit to the aesthetic, huh?” he teases, nodding toward the socks.

“Comfort first, Minho,” she retorts, tossing her jumper into the corner. “Unless you want to lecture me about dressing up to match my pyjamas.”

“Never,” Minho says with a grin as he pulls off his hoodie, followed by his t-shirt.

His toned torso gleams faintly in the dim light, and he doesn’t miss the way Hayun’s eyes flick over him before she quickly looks away. He chuckles quietly, stepping out of his cargo trousers until he’s down to his boxers.

Hayun climbs onto her bed, watching as Minho joins her. She stretches out, letting out a small groan. “Soju makes me so fucking tired,” she murmurs, her voice soft and lazy.

Minho nods as he pulls the blankets over both of them. “Yeah, it’s like a whole-body shutdown,” he agrees, lying on his side and curling around her. His chest presses flush against her back as he wraps an arm around her waist. The warmth of his body radiates through her, making her sigh softly.

Hayun’s voice is muffled against her pillow as she speaks. “Reckon Hyunjin will end up in Jisung’s bed?”

Minho snorts. “Probably. Those two are a disaster waiting to happen. You know something?”

The room falls into a still, golden glow as the faint sounds of the house settling outside Hayun’s door fade into silence. Minho shifts slightly, the playful ease he carried all night giving way to something softer, more serious. His arm tightens just slightly around her waist, pulling her closer as his breath brushes the back of her neck.

“You know…” His voice is low, almost hesitant, the weight of unspoken thoughts threading through his tone. “I never followed through on that text I sent after Mr. Han pulled his abduction bullshit.”

Hayun turns her head toward him, her curiosity piqued despite the quiet comfort of their position. Her voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a flicker of something earnest beneath it. “The one where you said you’d kill me and then kiss me for making you worry?”

Minho exhales a quiet laugh, his lips quirking in a faint smile that she can feel more than see. “Yeah, that one.” His tone softens, carrying a quiet intensity. “The killing part? Not as appealing.”

She smiles, her voice steady but laced with a playful edge. “And the kissing part?”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. The air between them grows heavier, the unspoken tension building as his fingers trail absently against the curve of her hip. Then he shifts, propping himself up on one elbow so he’s hovering just slightly over her. The dim light catches the flicker of emotion in his eyes, his expression unreadable but intent.

Minho’s gaze locks onto hers, the room shrinking until it feels like they’re the only two people in the world. The space between them hums with anticipation, every second stretching out like an eternity.

“Sounds fucking divine,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into a deeper, huskier register as he leans down, closing the distance.

When their lips meet, it’s soft at first but it deepens quickly. His hand cups her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek in a gesture so gentle it makes her heart stutter. Hayun’s fingers thread through his hair, tugging lightly as she tilts her head, pulling him closer. The kiss grows more deliberate, the world outside dissolving as they lose themselves in each other.

Minho’s lips move against hers like he’s memorizing the moment, his other hand pressing lightly against her waist to keep her grounded. Hayun feels a warmth spreading through her chest, a quiet intensity that’s equal parts comfort and fire. She’s not used to this. To letting herself be vulnerable, to feeling safe. But in Minho’s arms, it feels right.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against hers, his breaths coming a little quicker. His dark eyes flicker open, meeting hers with a small smile that softens the edges of his usual confidence.

“Well fuck,” he whispers, his voice rough around the edges. “Should’ve done that sooner.”

Hayun’s fingers linger in his hair, her lips still tingling. She chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. “Yeah. Took you long enough.”

Minho’s grin widens, a playful glint returning to his gaze. “Guess I was waiting for the right moment.”

He shifts back down, lying behind her once more and wrapping his arm around her waist again. His chest presses firmly against her back, his thumb resuming its soothing circles against her hip.

“You’re such a sap,” Hayun murmurs, her voice teasing but tinged with affection.

“And you fucking love it,” he fires back, his tone light but confident.

She smiles, her hand coming to rest on top of his where it lies against her stomach. She doesn’t say anything, but the small, contented sigh that escapes her lips says everything she doesn’t.

“Goodnight, princess,” Minho whispers, his voice a quiet murmur against her ear.

Hayun shifts slightly, leaning back into him. “Goodnight, Minho,” she replies, her voice soft and filled with a contentment she hasn’t felt in a long time.

As the room falls into silence, the gentle rhythm of their breathing syncs, the warmth of his body a steady presence at her back. Outside, the world keeps spinning, but here, wrapped in Minho’s arms, everything feels still, safe, and undeniably theirs.