#linospuddin

Minho really liked the bunny thing, you could tell.

Out of all the aspects of his crafted idol persona, that was one he genuinely enjoyed. Aegyo, strange fancalls, the intense spotlight on him at all times, you knew it all irked him. But the bunny thing?

Yeah, he liked that.

You knew by the way he sent you a photo everytime the stylists would add bunny accessories, or get him a hat or a headband with dangly white ears- it lit him up. He loved his skzoo, leebit. He loved when the fans leaned into the gimmick, gifting him little carrot plushies because, you know, he was the bunny.

Oftentimes he came home with the hats and the headbands and the pins and the gifts he was allowed to keep. And even on his off time, if he saw something with bunny ears he would get them, telling you that stays would probably like it- you just smiled and nodded.

He loved it.

You couldn't decide how you felt about the ears.

Well, of course you loved them, he looked so cute on stage with his toothy grin and white accessories. That was something you couldn't deny. But you also couldn't deny the strange swirl in your stomach when he would casually place the ears on at home with you.

Were you attracted to it? To the ears?

To.. the bunny thing?

It felt weird, he shared so much of that with fans, it felt like you were intruding by getting turned on when he wore a pair of animal ears.

Of course you didn't tell him that, you teased him about being such a cute little bunny until his ears went red. You waited until it wouldn't be deemed suspicious and jumped his bones, having him pound into you with his overwhelming dancer stamina- he never minded, he had the sex drive of a b..

A bunny.

Fuck.

For a fancy dress party, since he had so much of the stuff, Minho thought he'd make his costume bunny themed.

"Judy Hopps? The rabbit?" You cocked your head at the ears and police badge he held up at you.

"Come on, you can be Nick Wilde, it'll be cute." He rolled his eyes, "it's for couples, I can't do it without you. You'll be a sexy Mr Wilde, I swear."

That wasn't the problem.

The problem was Minho dressed up as a police officer with those damned ears on that worried you. How were you supposed to be normal around that? That and alcohol, no less.

You gulped.

"Look, I'll go show you how good the costumes will be, then you'll be convinced, hm?"

You didn't know about convinced.

"Sure," you nodded, a puff of amused air leaving your nose when he practically hopped away to the bedroom.

Your boyfriend borrowed the officer uniform from the recent skz code that they had finished filming as soon as he got a whiff of the costume party- ecstatic at the immediate idea that he had for a couples costume with you.

When he re-emerged you had to bite your lip to keep in an instinctual moan, you were lucky he was looking down fixing his tie when he sauntered back in so that he didn't see how quickly you snapped your thighs shut at the sight of him.

Fuck me.

"Now you can't tell me this doesn't look good," he smirked, leaning against the doorway and watching your eyes run down his body. "I know right."

He looked fucking delectable in that uniform. Long sleeved blue shirt hugging his arms and chest like a second skin, dark grey slacks painting his legs like the tempting trap they were, and those black boots, god. The police vest and the handcuffs too would've been enough for you to pounce and demand that you didn't show to tonights party, if it weren't for those ears.

Those fucking bunny ears, the headband itself was hidden in his hair, you couldn't even see where they were attached.

"And look," he raised his eyebrows and chin in a quick smug movement as he turnt to show the little white tail peaking out from his slacks.

What the fuck.

"How.. um, how is that-?"

"I cut a hole and wiggled it through from the inside, smart right? It won't fall off that way, and you can't see the elastic either."

You nodded, blushing from how embarrassing it was that you were dripping at the fact he was dressing up as a cartoon bunny. You couldn't even make out like it was the uniform because you didn't have this visceral a reaction when he came home to you last week in the same attire. Minus the accessories of course.

So you couldn't fucking do anything.

If he noticed he didn't point it out, luckily, favouring chucking the clothes he'd picked out for you instead into your lap.

"Try it on," he grinned, "you'll like it."

Eager to get out of his sight, you ran to the bathroom, dropping the clothes onto the closed toilet seat to star at your flustered expression in the mirror.

Fuck.

You turned on the tap to splash some cold water onto your flaming face.

Get ahold of yourself.

Breathing in shakily, you changed into the Nick Wilde costume that Minho had graciously found for you. He clearly wanted this to happen, you couldn't possibly say no to him when he seemed so excited, and besides- the costume was really good.

The green Hawaiian shirt that he found ran a little small so you had to keep the first few buttons undone, but that was probably part of his master plan. The cute beige skater skirt matched with the leg warmers, and the purple tie hung nicely under the collar. It definitely looked good on you, you'd give him that.

You braced yourself for the gorgeous sight of your bunny boyfriend again and unlocked the door to the bathroom.

"Fuck, see, sexy Mr Wilde, what did I say?" He grinned, pulling you out into the hallway until the two of you stood in front of the full length mirror.

Yeah, this was a great couples costume.

Minho laughed triumphantly to himself as he slipped a pair of fox ears into your hair, one hand coming down to hold your waist once he was finished. He watched you through the mirror.

"I told you it'd look good didn't I?"

"Yeah, it's good."

You could feel the shakiness in your tone betraying you, and you reached up to adjust the ears so that he wouldn't focus on the raging blush creeping up your neck.

"So?"

"So what?"

You kept your answers short, not wanting to accidentally let out how much you wanted him to ruin you with those damned ears on.

"So we look hot, do you want to stick with these costumes then?"

"Sure," you tossed your wrist flippantly, budging past him and back into the bathroom.

"Hey, if you really don't w-"

"I said it's good, Min, let's get ready."

Hiding how sexually frustrated you were from your boyfriend was getting harder with every drop of alcohol in your system- and you had been sending him some very mixed signals all evening. You hung off of his arm, staring up at his ears everytime he wasn't looking directly at you, though you'd turn away the second he tried to kiss you.

He huffed out playfully each time, wrongly assuming you were just being cute with him, but not pushing any further until you were sat on the couch besides him, just happy admiring your boyfriend while he engaged in conversation.

It was going well, no one was speaking to you, and you were well content to twirl your hair through your fingers, licking your lips as you clearly ogled him next to you. Heart eyes and fidgety body, anyone could tell what was going through your mind. The alcohol dulled your personal threshold of socially acceptable PDA, but you didn't care one bit.

Everything was fine.

Minho's hand came down to rest on your leg.

Everything was not fine.

You breathed in, holding the air in your lungs as he squeezed and gently moved down your thigh.

Oh no, no, no.

He didn't turn towards you, just kept talking like he wasn't almost edging you on the spot with just his hand. The further down your leg he travelled, the more the sirens in your mind blared, the red alarm lights clouding your intoxicated mind. He'd know, he'd feel it, he'd realise that you have some sort of weird raging kink for your boyfriend in bunny attire.

You quickly wrapped your hand around his wrist, stopping him from moving any further. He looked at you then.

His lusted smirk backed you into the point of no return, those fucking ears slipping to the side like they were real and he was actually moving them.

Oh god.

You scowled, pushing his hand off of you and knocking his balance a little.

The group looked over at the two of you for a second, but they moved on with their conversation easily enough as Minho turnt his body to corner the two of you out.

"You okay?" He asked, cocking his head to the side. They moved again, the headband adjusted to the centre of gravity change on his head.

"Fine," you clenched your jaw.

His eyebrows furrowed at you.

"Y/n, don't lie to me," Minho said sternly, making you gulp down the moan that threatened to bubble out.

"I'm not."

"You're not?"

Fuck, your man was gorgeous. He was the meaning of the word temptation, he was everything dangerous inside you, he was everything. He placed his gloved hand on your cheek, tilting your face up to his.

You shook your head in return, watching with half lidded eyes as he placed his other hand on the seatrest, looming over you while he pushed closer to kiss you. You hummed in pleasure when your lips connected, scissoring your thighs together, your hands immediately wrapping around his neck, tangling in his hair.

You wanted him so bad, you needed him, you'd needed him the whole evening.

Minho nibbled on your lip gently just when your fingers brushed over the headband hidden in his hair. Your eyes snapped open.

Shit.

With your hands flat on his chest, you pushed him back, albeit a little harder than you intended- and stood from the couch. His shocked and confused face wasn't enough to garner any sympathy from you when he'd been teasing you all evening with his costume, and you stalked off- barging past anyone that was in your way.

Stupid Minho in those stupid ears, looking all pretty, looking like he wants to fuck you.

Why did you have to have a thing for him dressed as a bunny?

You imagined his face between your legs, the ears peeking over the top so you could play with and tug on them while he ate you out. You imagined watching them slip further forward with every thrust into you, his little cotton tail shaking with the force. You imagined him with a collar and a leash on, mocking you, trying to goad you into using it but you were too far gone- too fucked out to think about anything other than how he was making you cum over and over again.

Minho caught up to you quickly.

You registered his figure in your line of sight a second too late, before you had a moment to react there wasn't enough time to dash away. He roughly yanked your wrist, pulling you against him for a beat before you were tumbling into a bathroom as he locked the door behind him. You stumbled back onto the closed toilet seat, gulping down your arousal.

Minho's dark eyes glared at you, his toned arms on show as he folded them over his chest, broad shoulders filling out the blue shirt with the rolled up sleeves. He looked down his nose at you, his jaw tightening and the bunny ears falling forward slightly. The sight of him was so intimidating, so fucking hot.

You stood your ground, straightening up, heart pounding in your chest, heat buzzing through your veins. The consequences of your actions were about to knock you off your feet, and you hated how much you were looking forward to it.

Minho took a step closer, the music outside nothing but a low thrumming now. His voice, low and controlled, sent a shiver down your spine. "What's your problem?"

You tried to maintain a neutral expression, but you couldn't resist rolling your eyes. "I don't have a problem."

His expression flashed dangerously, but there was a hint of something else there too- acknowledgment of the game you were playing. "Don't lie to me," he said, his voice dropping even lower, "you've been acting up all night."

You gulped, biting your lip, and his eyes flashed with recognition at your reaction.

He knew.

Your boyfriend stalked forward, stopping inches away from where you were seated. The air between you felt thick with tension, it pooled between your legs. His gloved fingers tilted your face up to look at his, his grip on your chin a little rougher than usual. The way he looked down at you was so attractive, it made your breathing start to stutter.

"What the fuck is all the attitude for?" Minho's voice was a low growl, sending a shiver through you. His eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign that you were uncomfortable. He didn't find one.

You couldn't help but be mesmerized by his sudden intensity, the way it made you feel both vulnerable and excited.

"Talk."

"I... I didn't mean to have an attitude," you stammered, your previous confidence dripping down the drain with every second.

Minho's grip on your chin tightened ever so slightly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. "That's not what I asked." he furrowed his brows. "You think I can't tell when you're horny?"

Your breath hitched, the anticipation becoming unbearable. His touch, the closeness of his body, all the alcohol in your system- it all combined to create a steady mix of fear and desire. You had pissed him off, and there was no turning back now.

"My baby's all hot and bothered, but she's being a fucking brat about it." He narrowed his eyes, "what is it you're not telling me?"

"The ears.." You whispered, trailing off into just a breath of air. You tried to get away from his scrutinizing gaze but his grip on you was rock hard, forcing you into submission.

"Spit it out."

"The bunny thing!" You whined, scrunching your face up into a pout, "the ears and the.. the tail, it's.."

His smirk took the rest of your sentence away from you, the words dissapating on your tongue. You fell into a silence. Eyes flitting over his costume, the tie, the cuffs, the belt, the ears, god, the ears- you started to salivate.

"Oh, you like the bunny thing?" He cocked his head.

You nodded, swallowing thickly.

"Do these turn you on?" Minho grinned coyly, his free hand playing with the ear on the left.

You nodded again, a particularly deep breath bleeding into a longing moan.

"Didn't want to admit you were into that, huh?"

He chuckled lowly when you shook your head, gazing down into your lap where your hands fiddled.

"Acting out because you discovered a new kink," your boyfriend hummed, "were you embarrassed because the bunny ears got you all wet? Didn't want me to know?"

"Minho," you whined, his efforts to embarrass you further getting you impossibly more aroused.

"What? Am I wrong? Let's see."

He dipped down to his knees, crouching in front of where you sat, and slowly spread your knees open with a mischievous smirk. The man bunched your skirt up, revealing the sight of your drenched panties to his eager eyes.

"Oh look at you," he cooed, "poor baby."

He trailed one finger over the inside of your thighs, collecting the slick that had been dripping since he first tried on the costume- his face sparkled with awe.

"So fucking wet, no wonder you were being a brat, bet it aches so bad."

"Min please," you gulped, breathless already, "please touch me."

"All this because of a little headband?" He whistled, more to himself than you- completely ignoring your pleading and standing straight again. "You should've just told me."

"B-"

"Quiet."

You didn't need to be told twice.

"They all think I'm an asshole because you were acting up," he crossed his arms, though he didn't look too mad about it. "Asked me what I had said."

If you had witnessed the abrupt exit that you made as an onlooker then you would've thought he upset you too, yeah, you would've thought he was an asshole too.

"Get up."

You stood, your legs feeling like jelly, unsteady beneath you- barely holding your weight.

Minho's strong hands pushed you against the door, his forearm pressed over your shoulder blades to keep you pinned while his other hand cuffed your wrists behind your back. The click of the metal reverberated in your head, a small whimper leaving your lips as you tried to struggle away from his grasp.

His breath was hot against your skin, chuckling lowly as his body pressed against you, his unyielding grip on you contrasting with the feather like touches of his finger tips smoothing down your body until he got to the bottom of your skirt.

"I'm gonna make sure you can't walk out of this bathroom," he whispered, relishing in the way you trembled with anticipation. "Show everyone you were just being a brat because you needed to be fucked by your 'cute little bunny.'"

You released a shaky sigh.

"Mm, don't think I forgot about all that," he laughed, his gravelly tone coursing through your veins. His grip on the cuffs tightened just enough for you to whine out, reminding you that he was the one calling the shots, punishing you. "Still think the ears are cute now?"

His fingers dipped under your skirt, teasingly trailing over your panties, sticky with your arousal already.

"Min," you gulped, your voice wobbling slightly, sighs tumbling from your lips. "Minho, they.. they'll all hear."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "Good," he murmured, "they'll know I'm teaching you a lesson."

His foot kicked between yours, forcing your legs further apart- still pressed roughly against the door. He smirked as you arched your back for him. Minho moved your underwear to the side, a low hum rumbling from his chest when he was met with no friction from your walls pushing his middle two fingers inside.

"Wow, you really like this, huh?" He smirked, closing his teeth around the shell of your ear, his husky voice melting your limbs. "Do you even need me to stretch you out?"

You violently shook your head, squeezing around his fingers while he slipped them in and out slowly- no resistance. He watched you wiggle in the cuffs, reacting to his actions.

He bit his lip.

"No? Why don't you tell me what you want?"

"Fuck me," the words falling from your lips without any hesitation, "I need you."

"Yeah? Do you need your bunny's cock, sweetheart?"

You nodded, looking over your shoulder at his smug face.

"Say it. Beg for it."

"Please Min," you gulped, "I need your cock, need my bunny's cock, please."

You never thought that the sound of a belt unbuckling could have you weak in the knees. But as the metallic clinking broke the rythmic sound of your heavy breathing mingling together, goosebumps raised to the surface of your skin, shivers running down your spine.

He worked slowly, tantalisingly, the sound of the leather sliding through the belt loops of his slacks heightening your senses. Minho dropped it to the floor and you gasped, breath catching in your throat when the next sounds you heard were his zipper and a low chuckle.

"Are you ready?"

He kissed your neck, one hand wrapped around himself- lining up with your entrance. The other he dug into your shoulder, keeping you pinned.

"Y-Yes, I'm ready."

Your boyfriend pushed into you, taking a hold of your waist as he groaned out louder with every inch, resting his forehead on the back of your head.

"I want to hear you."

He bottomed out with no resistance, slowly pulling out until only his tip remained inside you-

"I want them to hear you."

Slamming back inside, he ripped gutteral moans out of your throat as your body thudded against the door with his every thrust.

"I want them all to know what I'm doing to you."

The rythmic pounding of the wood against the door frame, the poor little bathroom latch straining and clanking, the loud jingling of the handcuffs chains- Minho's deep groans, your desperate whimpers and moans, it wasn't hard to guess.

"Fuck," he breathed into your hair, grasping at your hips, shoving your pussy down on his cock to meet his every thrust. "You're so fucking wet."

You managed to open your eyes, your cheek wedged against the hard surface. Minho stared down, squeezing your flesh between his fingers, licking his lips- unable to take his eyes away from the sight of his cock dissapearing into you.

Flushed red face, intense and fierce, drops of sweat gathering under his chin. The bunny ears were slipping further and further down his head with every thrust just like you'd imagined and you felt like you were going insane.

He noticed you clenching wildly, his smirk stretching into a grin when he noticed you were fixated on his headband.

"Are you gonna cum?" He asked, tilting his head.

Your whines were getting louder, pitching up, and your hands were helplessly pulling against the handcuffs- if he hadn't had you pinned in place he was sure you'd have been squirming all over the place. He knew you were close.

You nodded wildly, screaming in pleasure as he slammed into you repeatedly, hitting that spongy spot inside of you with every hard stroke. So deep, so full, so fast. The knot in your stomach strained, barely holding itself together, little strings snapping every time his thrusts shoved you against the door.

"M-Minho.. oh god, I'm close!"

"That's it, fucking scream my name."

"Minho! Fuck, Min-!"

Ragged whimpers tumbled out of your mouth when you came, melting between your boyfriend and the door- your legs almost giving out underneath you. Minho squeezed your ass, throwing his head back- one, two, three more hard thrusts until he bottomed out and stayed there, emptying his cum into you with a relieved sigh.

In a swift movement, he pulled your panties back from the side, cupping your core with his palm.

"My snack for when we get home," he snickered, pulling down the back of your skirt, taking a second to admire your slumped, fucked out figure against the door. "Are you okay baby?"

"Mhm," you nodded dreamily, flexing your wrists as he twisted the little key in the lock of the cuffs to let them drop to the floor.

Minho's gentle touch to your cheeks was a deceptive switch up from his rough treatment of you a minute ago. He pressed his soft lips against yours, eyes sparkling when he pulled back with a pretty smile.

"Such a cute little bunny," you hummed.

"Careful," he smirked, "or I won't be able to wait until we get out of here."

"Yeah? What's stopping you?"

Knock! Knock!

Shit.

current taglist for everything: @linos-kitten @agi-ppangx @milf-ivy @stayinlimbo @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @azuna-sz @linocz @kth988 @bookobsessedfreak @astronomicallyyy @skzooluvr

Your boyfriend remained humble no matter how much you showered his cooking in praise and compliments, crediting everything to his mother and her insistence on teaching him how to make his own food when he was growing up.

The sizzling in the kitchen drew you towards him like a moth to a flame, and you crept through the hallway, not wanting to startle him out of his chef-haze as you lovingly dubbed it.

His back was turnt to you, focused intently on the vegetables he was chopping, his hair catching on his eyelashes every time he moved to flick the herbs around with the butter in the frying pan beside him. Black t-shirt and joggers tied together with his favourite apron, and you couldn't forget the silly cat slippers that he continuously insists on wearing the minute he steps through the door even though you bought them as a joke gift.

You thought the squeaks they made everytime he took a step would get old very quickly, but they didn't- and he wears them all the time. They're actually quite handy for tracking him around the house.

And sometimes, if you're quiet, and he doesn't think you're watching, you catch him making baby jumps on the spot to hear the noises when he's been standing still for too long. He's cute.

He'll deny it if you point it out.

The sight of him made your heart swell with affection. His broad shoulders moved under the shirt with a kind of effortless grace as he stirred the pan, and you could just see the edges of his profile- strong jawline, high cheekbones, the slight curve of his lips as he hummed a tune you couldn't place.

You stood for a moment admiring him, leant against the doorframe, you could hardly describe the feeling in your body when you saw him.

It was like small little fireworks lit up your poor heart with just a glance, any glance, it was the same when you were dating and getting to know eachother, and it would always be the same. Being with Minho was like a constant honeymoon phase, and you didn't think it was ending anytime soon.

Your perfect man, perfect perfect, he had you so helpless all the time, wrapped around his little finger, he was a dream.

A dream you couldn't keep your hands off.

You stepped forward quietly, a mischievous smile playing on your lips, not content to just watch any longer. "Hey hot stuff," you whistled, your voice soft but teasing.

Minho looked over his shoulder immediately, his face lighting up with a smile that reached his pretty eyes, making them crinkle at the corners.

Yeah, you really were helpless.

"Trying to sneak up on me again, hm?"

"Did it work?"

"A little."

You grinned, giddily skipping over to him and slipping your arms around his waist, resting your head against his strong back. You couldn't help your wandering fingers from inching underneath his shirt, splaying your hands over his stomach and drinking in his body heat.

"Hi baby," he laughed softly, and you could feel the vibrations in his chest shake your head.

"Minho," you murmured, inhaling deeply, "it smells amazing in here."

Your self restraint was concerningly low, unable to resist keeping your hands still for more than a second before you were exploring the body you knew so well for the nth time.

"It's nothing special," he replied modestly, and you huffed out before he even finished his retort.

"Don't act like you're not cooking a michelin star meal," you teased, peeking over his shoulder. "Steak?"

He hummed, nodding his head. "Is that okay? I fancied it, but I can make you something else if-"

"Steak is perfect," you smiled, squeezing him gently. "I don't care what I eat, anything you could make is perfect."

Your hands settled over the soft muscle of his pecs, squishing him between your fingers and letting out the satisfied giggles that you always did when he let you play with his boobs.

He scoffed with a laugh, "I know you don't care, I have to force feed you nutrients half the time."

You playfully slapped his chest from under his shirt, giggling when he let out an over the top yelp and twisted around in your embrace, pulling you closer.

"Tell me I'm wrong."

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a grin.

Minho's finger and thumb held your chin, tilting your face up to him- cocking an eyebrow to dare you to challenge him. You didn't, and his lips melted onto yours with a smile, buttering up your cheeks with kisses.

"How long left?"

"About 20 minutes."

You pushed out an exaggerated groan, still feeling him up- this time gliding your fingers over his shoulder blades, the man's shirt bunched up over your arms.

"That's so long."

"It's not."

"It is," you pouted, sticking your tongue out.

"Mm, what are you in a rush for?" He tilted his head knowingly, "hungry?"

"Very." You winked.

Minho laughed, but he didn't give you the intended reaction that you hoped to receive with your innuendo. That being he abandons the kitchen for the bedroom instead.

No, he turned back around and headed over to the sink, peering inside. Your hands slipped out from underneath the fabric.

"Can you do the dishes?" He asked.

"I will if you cook shirtless."

His lips quirked up, "why would I do that?"

"Apparently it makes the food taste better."

Minho raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk spreading across his face. "Oh, really? You think I don't know what you're up to?"

You giggled. "I can't do the dishes without entertainment."

He laughed, the sound warm and rich, filling the kitchen. "Is that so?"

"It is so so," you said with a mischievous grin. "What? I can be good."

"No you can't."

"I can!"

Minho shook his head, clearly amused. "Why don't you go see if there are any more dishes? I seem to remember someone leaving a cup and plate out there yesterday."

You huffed dramatically but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. Slowly shuffling into the front room, your eyes found the culprits that Minho was talking about- the ones you had in fact forgotten about from yesterday. You gathered the cup and plate, shaking your head at your own forgetfulness.

You spotted an empty glass on the coffee table that wasn't yours, and your face lit up mischevously as you swiped it to place with yours.

Something to rub in his face.

As you returned to the kitchen, any teasing that you were going to throw him back about the glass was forgotten, immediately replaced with a giggle of excitement.

Minho stood at the stove again, though with his shirt off, the muscles in his back and shoulders flexing as he stirred the pan of vegetables is the view that you're greeted with when you step back in the room.

He rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile.

"Happy now?"

"Mhm," you replied, barely setting the stuff on the counter before you rushed closer to him.

Your fingertips grazed his honey skin, trickling down his spine and pressing into his cute little back dimples. He breathed in quietly.

"Dishes." He tutted and shook his head, but you could tell he was preening from the attention.

"Fine," you sighed wistfully, but you made no attempt to move besides your hands holding his lips- thumbs stroking circles into his sides.

He chuckled, looking behind at you as he added a dash of seasoning to the pan. "Would you stop trying to distract me?"

"Is it working?"

"No. I really want this steak," he laughed, the sizzling of the pan growing tenfold when he laid the two pieces of meat into the hot butter.

Your hands sneakily headed down, grabbing his ass with each palm and squeezing heartily. "But I really want this cake."

He yelped in shock, quickly turning and grabbing your hands- greeted by your coy smirk.

"What?" You pushed forward, "not my fault you're so tempting."

"You just can't take your hands off me can you?" He smiled, gently letting your hands free so he could hold your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Nope, it's all I wanna do."

"Too bad," he hummed, dipping down to kiss you. "You have to wait until after dinner."

"Min," you pouted, "please? I'll cook you a steak right after."

His subtle grimace made your fake scowl break into a laugh.

"Fine, then I'll cook you a steak if you don't come fuck me right now."

He giggled, biting his plush bottom lip and looking to the left at the door.

"See, you know you want me."

"Baby I always want you," Minho rolled his eyes, "but it'll be done in 10 minutes."

"We can be done in 10 minutes."

"Don't lie," he snickered, "if we could be done in 10 then I wouldn't be late for work so often, would I?"

You smirked, resting the side of your head on his shoulder, kissing the patch of his neck that he bared to you.

"Y/n."

"I can't believe you're turning down sex."

He shook his head, almost whining- like this was the hardest decision he'd ever had to make, "I'm not turning it down, just postponing."

"I don't think I'll be in the mood after I eat."

"Really?" He said exasperatedly.

"Unfortunately so," you grinned, gently closing your teeth around his skin.

"You're impossible," he huffed, his hands snaking under your thighs as he hoisted you up to carry you.

"You love it."

He chuckled, turning the heat of the stove off- leaving the half cooked steaks for him to deal with later when he was finally done with you.

"I do."

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Minho froze, feeling the weight of your gaze on him, watching his shoulders lift slightly. There was no room to pretend he hadn't just been caught off guard. It was in moments like this when he cursed your uncanny ability to speak your mind confidently, something that he had never been able to do.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to reveal more than he was ready for- especially without confessing the unspoken feelings he had for you. Ones that he had been trying to push away. But he didn't want to offend you either.

"It's.. not a party," he mumbled, looking down at the unfinished sandwich he had been making. "More of.. a get together."

"With all your friends?" you scoffed, prompting him to glance up, meeting your now-intense gaze.

The phone had been abandoned in your pocket, and he felt a surge of discomfort at your sudden undivided attention. The desire to run away from the conversation tugged at him, the tempting option of faking a heart attack to get out of it seeming like the best one.

"Why don't you want them to meet me?"

"It's not that.." He began, the words faltering on his tongue, but despite his efforts to deny it, he knew it was exactly that.

One of Minho's past relationship had left him weary, the betrayal he had experienced had broken his trust and left him uneasy at the thought of opening up to anyone new. The wounds inflicted by his ex-partner's infidelity ran deep despite how much he tried to get over it as quickly as he could.

There was no time limit on grief and healing, he knew that, but he felt as if it had been long enough now- 7 months, and he was still so hung up on the feeling of someone who he thought was one of his closest friends and his girlfriend running around behind his back.

Despite his facade of indifference that he made sure to emphasize when they were both telling him they didn't mean to hurt him, Minho had made the painful decision to sever ties with both his friend Woojin and his ex-girlfriend the moment he discovered what was happening behind his back. For months, mind you, he didn't let himself he convinced by their cries.

They wouldn't have done it if they cared.

He had acted as if their actions hadn't fazed him, burying the hurt and anger deep within himself. But despite his attempts to move on and just forget, here he was, still thinking about it, still letting it linger.

As much as Minho tried to deny it, those ghosts still haunted him and hung over something potentially happening with you. The fear of being hurt again had tainted his view on introducing his friends and his love interests, causing him to view every interaction through a lens of suspicion and doubt. He couldn't shake the feeling that history might repeat itself, even though he felt that he could trust you- he knew that he could if he even stepped up and told you how he felt for you.

But.. he was just your friend. At the moment, he wouldn't even have an excuse for getting hurt again if you did happen to like one of his friends more than platonically.

He just couldn't do it. Not yet.

As he thought about the idea of introducing you to his friends, he found himself replaying memories of his past relationship, the signs of deception he had missed like when his girlfriend kept finding excuses to visit Woojin and have him come over. The thought of exposing you to his social circle filled him with dread, as if doing so would somehow invite the same pain and betrayal back into his life despite you not even being his girlfriend in the first place.

Even with his growing feelings for you, Minho couldn't silence the nagging voice in the back of his mind, whispering warnings of more hurting and avoiding his pain. Until he could just forget and move on, the prospect of introducing you to his friends remained something he didn't want to cross just yet.

And he also couldn't tell you all that.

"I didn't think you'd get along with them."

The words felt hollow to his own ears even as he was speaking them, and he knew by the look on your face that you knew he was lying. He knew it was a terrible excuse.

"If you don't want me there, it's okay," you replied calmly as you looked down, but there was a hint of dissapointment in your voice. "Just don't lie to me."

Minho felt a pang of guilt in his heart, he knew he owed you the truth- honestly, it was rich of him to withhold it from you when that's what caused all his pain and heartbreak in the first place.

Oh but he did want you there, he really did. But it couldn't be as a friend. It couldn't be as the girl from nextdoor, Minho's neighbour. He wanted you to be Minho's girlfriend, to be by his side, on his arm so that he could shield you away.

But he couldn't, of course, so he didn't invite you.

The thought of you mingling with his unfortunately attractive and funny friend group filled him with a sense of unease. He couldn't bear the idea of any of them showing interest in you, let alone the possibility of you reciprocating those feelings. The thought gnawed at him, that one of them could be better for you than him. One of them probably wouldn't keep you away and under wraps, trying to keep you all to themselves.

He knew that he had to confront his insecurities or let you in.. or let you go, just something. This current arrangement really wasn't working for anyone but him.

As you laughed to yourself and stood up, Minho felt something strange wash over him. He wanted to ask what was so amusing, to understand the thoughts racing through your mind, but the words caught in his throat when you looked up at him.

"Enjoy your party," you announced suddenly, your tone letting him know of the sadness in your words. Minho's heart sank as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

I want you there.

Just say it. Say it.

His feet were still planted in the kitchen and his mouth was still sewn shut as his front door clicked shut gently behind you.

Fuck.

It wasn't a party, it was a get together, he was definitely right about that. In his mind parties usually contain more than 8 people, and they.. party? This was just him and his friends messing about at his house, a get together if you will.

But Minho felt awful, he couldn't stomach the fact that you might be mad at him, or that he might've made you think he was embarrassed or ashamed to introduce you to his friends.

"Lighten up," Jisung laughed, passing him yet another beer. "Or tell me what's wrong."

"I'm not gonna talk even if you get me drunk," he scoffed, taking it anyway- he already was tipsy but he was confident in his ability to not blabber while drunk.

"Is it cause the girl from next door isn't here?" Seungmin smiled coyly, a delightful addition to the conversation.

"No," he defended, obviously too quick for it to be a natural lie, but he wasn't going to let up.

The girl from next door.

See, that's what he didn't want, he didn't want you to just be the girl from next door. He wanted it to be y/n, his girlfriend, who happens to also live next door.

The one who let him rant and rant about his ex girlfriend, who comforted him and told him it was okay for him to be upset and hurt- the only one he truly told that he was upset and hurt. The one who knows his cats and his house inside out, who always offers to help him and give him company, who laughs at his jokes when he knows they're not funny, who planted all your favourite flowers in his garden that you had to tend to- he suspected it was an excuse to come over but of course he didn't care, it made the view outside his window pretty, especially when you were there.

The one he really really likes, despite it all.

"Where is she again?" Felix asked, popping his head into the conversation, prompting Minho to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"She's busy," he shrugged, taking a swig from his bottle and hoping they weren't going to notice the redness of his ears.

"Doing what?"

Seungmin again, with that stupid smirk.

"She didn't say, I don't know, why would I know?"

"Alright, I got it."

The sensation of two hands shaking him from behind the couch startled him, causing him to jolt slightly and spilling beer over his shirt. He blinked, trying to process the unexpected interruption.

"Why don't you tell her how you feel already?" the voice laughed, tone filled with a mix of teasing and just a plain urge for him to stop torturing himself.

Minho's heart skipped a beat. They knew? They all knew?

Well, if they didn't, Chan certainly didn't leave room for misinterpretation.

There was no escaping it now, their knowing looks trapping him inside his head. The truth hung heavy in the air, demanding to be acknowledged.

"I- I don't.." he started, his words struggling to articulate his thoughts and fuck now he was blushing and they were all going to tease him about it and never let it die. With a sudden surge of panic, he jumped up from his seat, eager for an escape.

"I'm getting a new shirt."

As Minho climbed the stairs, grumbling under his breath, the echoes of laughter from his living room bounced up the walls.

Felix followed him up, a soft sound of a knock on his door and a short grunt from Minho as he was pulling off his shirt.

"We're just joking." He smiled, always so bright and cheerful.

"Yeah," he shrugged, pursing his lips, "I know."

"There's nothing wrong with having feelings for her."

"Yeah I know," he huffed, bringing his hand up to rub at his red cheeks that he hid from Felix by facing the opposite direction- digging through his drawers for another shirt.

The younger man sat on the edge of his bed, kicking his feet gently, eyeing the way that Minho was turned away. Yet another attempt from him to hide.

"You're allowed to move on, it's been long enough."

"Yeah.."

It has, right? It's been more than half a year, why is he still dwelling on what happened? He's sure the two of them aren't hung up on him after cheating on him.

"I know."

You spotted a man leaning against Minho's wall, his posture relaxed and yet commanding- in a gentle way. A surge of curiosity washed over you as you observed him, realizing that this was one of his friends, one that he for some reason didn't want to meet you. He seemed nice enough.

From his physique, it was evident that he was athletic, his muscular build contrasting with Minho's somewhat leaner frame. He had been getting bigger lately though, especially within the last few weeks.

...

It was hard not to notice.

Really, how weren't you supposed to see? It was like everytime you saw him coming home from the gym he was wearing one of those tight black shirts that accentuated everyth-

As if sensing your gaze, the man looked up and caught your eye. A warm smile spread across his face, accompanied by a friendly wave. You returned the gesture with a smile of your own.

The mystery friend beckoned you over, a sense of intrigue pulling you away from the mindless crochet you had been engrossed in. With a slight skip in your step, you abandoned the half-finished blanket for Doongie and headed to the door.

A wry smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you took in the irony. Even when you were mad at him, he was still so present- in everything. You couldn't help but be reminded of him in the simplest of activities. The thought brought a mixture of exasperation and longing.

Despite the uncertainties of whatever it was that was lingering between you and Minho at the moment, there was a glimmer of excitement in the prospect of connecting with his friend, if only for a moment before you were banished away again.

Banished may be a strong word, but it's how you felt.

You just couldn't wrap your head around why he didn't want you to meet his friends. He'd already met yours and it went great, they all loved him. Your neighbour had met your parents, even, helped them move their luggage from the car when he noticed then from the kitchen window when they came to stay with you for a weekend.

What a nice man, they had said.

"I'm Chris," the mystery man smiled, holding his hand out.

You took it gladly, "y/n, you're a friend of Min's?"

He nodded, "yeah, we dance together."

"That's so cool! How long have you been dancing for?"

One of Minhos dance friends, from his team you're guessing, he vaguely mentions them every once in a while, not that he ever gives you any information about them that you don't have to pry out of his grasp.

"Like.. years, I can't remember a time when I didn't dance."

You smiled, "that's great that you're so passionate, are you all dancers?"

He saw you looking towards the back door, a longing expression dancing across your features slightly- not wanting to reveal how much it had hurt your feelings that he didn't want you there.

"Yeah we're all dancers," Chan smiled sympathetically, he wasn't sure what was going on between you two, but it didn't take a genius to figure out you weren't happy about not being in there with the rest of them. "He didn't tell you?"

"I knew he had dancer friends but that was it."

He nodded, a thoughtful pout flashing across his lips. "Come in?"

"Oh.. no," you quickly laughed, failing at not letting your new acquaintance know you were troubled. "Min didn't invite me and I don't.. you know, it'd be rude."

"He didn't invite you?"

"No," you smiled with a pityful giggle.

Chan's brain was whirring, trying to put things together in his head- he'd said you were busy and that was why you weren't there. But you didn't seem to be busy at all, frankly. And now it's revealed that Minho didn't even invite you?

"Why wouldn't he?"

"That's what I thought," you agreed, tossing your wrists out, "I asked him a few days ago and he just made up some stupid reason."

Chris tutted, entertaining the beginning of your rant with a smile on his face as he gestured for you to continue.

Something tipped him off that you had some things to say about the situation.

"He said he was worried I wouldn't get along with you guys?"

"Stupid," he nodded.

"Yes! Thank you, I mean, it's not the end of the world if one of you didn't like me.. you know, and he's- Minho's met all of my friends and he's met my parents and I don't even know your names? "

"Damn, he doesn't mention us at all?" Chan laughed, his dimples making an appearance as he laughed at your huffed expression.

You smiled exasperatedly, "I practically know nothing."

He opened his mouth to reply, but your eyes spotted a second man who peeked his head out of the front door to see where your new friend had gone.

You waved immediately, catching his attention- and causing Chan to turn back to see who you had found.

"Oh Changbin, this is y/n," he cocked his head, and you didn't miss the questioning look he sent Chan at the mention of your name.

"Not busy?"

"Well, I was crocheting a little cat blanket 5 minutes ago but I'd much rather be talking to you guys," you smiled warmly.

"Ahh nice to meet you then," he grinned- shaking your hand, "you got a cat?"

"No, it's for Doongie, but don't tell Min."

"Surprise?"

"It won't be, but also I'm mad at him at the moment."

They laughed, leaning against the wall as you stayed your side of the painted white fence.

Your neighbour had helped you paint it actually, dropped everything to assist you as soon as you'd mentioned in a passing comment that you were tired of the reddish woodstain of it.

Navigating the emotional signals that Minho sent your way was like trying to decipher a complex puzzle with no clear solution. His actions often left you feeling confused, yet there was always an undeniable allure to him that never failed to captivate you.

It was a constant tug of war, each conflicting emotion fighting for dominance in your heart. One moment, his words or actions would make you think he liked you, and the next, he would do something like this that had you doubting it all- pushing you away and lying to you.

Despite the rollercoaster of emotions, there was a magnetic pull to Minho that you couldn't deny. Honestly, his enigmatic nature only added to how captivated you were by him, drawing you in deeper even as you struggled to make sense of his pushing and pulling.

There was a part of you that couldn't help but be utterly smitten by him. The mere thought of him never failed to set your heart aflutter even when he was being like this and you were annoyed with him.

The rest of the boys slowly filtered outside to join Chan and Changbin and you, each taking a second to introduce themselves and say hi before easily being caught up to speed on the topic of conversation. More so, investigation on why Minho hadn't wanted his friends to meet you.

They were a loud bunch, the 6 of them, and they clearly had no reservations or boundaries with personal questions- which seemed to be the only real reason you could think of that he wouldn't want them around you.

The question that hung in the air- "Do you like him?" -caught you off guard, causing your cheeks to flush with embarrassment. It was a blunt inquiry that left little room for evasion, one that you didn't expect straight away.

Despite your best efforts to maintain composure, your reaction would have been enough. With a sheepish smile, you acknowledged the obvious, knowing that there was no point in denying what was already written across your flushed face.

"That's so cute! He-" One of them started, being elbowed in the side by the one with fluffy hair that was stood besides him.

"He.. what?" You asked, observing the smiles and glances that passed between the group in front of you. You laughed, "what is it?"

As Minho descended the stairs with Felix, anticipation bubbling within him after the strangely therapeutic heart to heart he'd had with his younger member- about how he should confess, just get it over with atleast.

A sour taste filled his mouth, and his heart sank in his chest as he realized that the laughter he heard was emanating from outside the front door. Your laughter, and theirs.

Dread washed over him as he approached the open door, the sound of conversation growing louder with each step.

He couldn't help but notice the easy rapport and laughter that flowed effortlessly between you all. His heart clenched with a mixture of pride and apprehension as he watched you interact with his friends, your charisma and beauty shining brightly despite the cloudy sky.

He observed the undeniable chemistry between you and his friend group and felt his limbs grow heavy. He couldn't help but feel overshadowed by their charisma and charm, and a wave of self-doubt washed over him as he imagined you comparing him to them just like what had happened 7 months ago. Or 8, or 9, who knew when she realised Woojin was better?

He couldn't shake the thought that you might find his friends more appealing, more suited to you than he could ever hope to be. They were all disgustingly handsome, and he knew it was an undeniable fact- there was no use in hoping you didn't notice.

A hand patting his shoulder jolted him forward out of the hallway, and the circle around you parted like the red sea at Minho's arrival, tension thickening the air around the two of you as you fixed your gaze on his guilty expression. His laughter sounded nervous, an attempt to diffuse the palpable tension that hung between you.

"So you've met everyone," Minho hummed, his voice strained with anxiety as he attempted to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable confrontation that he knew was brewing before him.

But you weren't about to let him off the hook so easily.

"Why would you tell them I was busy?" you questioned, tone laced with a mix of exasperation and disappointment. Your accusation sent a shiver down Minho's spine- he knew you could see right through him.

"Y/n," Minho mumbled, stepping closer to the fence, grateful for Chan's intervention as he ushered the rest of their friends back inside.

Minho knew he needed to address the issue now, head on, no more avoidance.

"I didn't... I-" he began, his words stumbling over each other as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

"What's so bad about me that your friends can't even meet me?" you interrupted, your voice tinted with hurt.

"Nothing! No, no that's not-" Minho protested, his heart sinking at the thought of you thinking it was anything negative to do with you. He scrambled for the right words, desperate to reassure you that it was his own insecurities and fears.

"It's fine.. Min," you sighed, your disappointment palpable as you began walking towards your slightly ajar front door. "I won't-"

The sound of Minho effortlessly jumping the fence behind you made you scoff in disbelief, but before you could react, you felt a gentle tug on your summer dress. You met his gaze when you turned back to face him, vulnerability reflecting in his eyes.

"I didn't want you to meet them," he confessed, sucking in a breath like that was his big confession.

You knew that.

Minho blinked owlishly at you, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he glanced down at his hand, releasing the fabric of your dress that he had bunched up in his palm.

"I... thought you'd like them more than me."

"What?" you scrunched your face in confusion, disbelief washing over you like a gentle wave as you struggled to process his confession. The idea that Minho could doubt himself in comparison to his friends that you'd just met left you feeling bewildered and saddened.

The man who had done everything you ever asked, kept you company when you needed it, listened to you rant and vent to him more times than you could count, drank with you until he had to tuck you into bed and stumble back down to the couch because even though he was drunk too you were always his first priority. The one who brought you countless portions of food that he claimed to have leftover, who let you come over and see the cats whenever you wanted even if it was just an excuse to see him.

Minho's feet shuffled on the concrete of your doorstep.

The wind blew the falling blooms of your cherry blossom tree between the two of you- a few resting gently in his black hair as he pouted down at the ground.

"What are you talking about, Minho?"

"I thought... if you met my friends, you wouldn't... I thought I wouldn't have a shot with you anymore," he sighed. "I don't know if I ever did."

Minho's big eyes met yours and his bottom lip slipped under his teeth.

"And now I've blown it anyway, right? You're mad at me?"

He looked up, silently begging for you to just put him out of his misery- at least tell him he didn't have a chance, tell him which of his friends had inevitably caught your affection.

Tell him so that he could stop looking at you like you were his entire world, admiring the beauty in such a simple expression. Even now, with your eyes scrunched at him in disbelief, he saw a cherry blossom land in your hair- finding the sudden urge to reach over and tuck that strand of hair behind your ear.

He'd keep the flower in, it's pretty.

It suits you. It matches your pretty summer dress that you wore even though it wasn't summer- it was hardly the weather for a dress like that and yet you wore it because you liked it and god he just..

He had to tell you.

"I love you," he spoke, his voice barely audible above the sound of the birds tweeting around in the background. "And I was scared. And I didn't want you to like any of them more than me, just like she did.."

Minho's admission of self-doubt tugged at you, empathy stirring within you as you recalled the frustration you had felt when he had told you about his ex-girlfriend. The mere thought of someone cheating on Minho, the most perfect man you had ever met, filled you with anger.

You wondered how you didn't realise your feelings for him then, honestly, and god knows he was too filled with hurt to process the fact that you were telling him how amazing he was and how lucky anyone would be to have him and if you had him you definitely wouldn't ever let him go.

You couldn't bear to see him in this anguish any longer, yearning for a closure than only you could provide.

"Min," you pursed your lips, voice soft yet stern like you were telling him off for even thinking that. "I like your friends, they're cool, but.. I love you."

His eyes sparkled with the hope and relief you'd just instilled in him.

"You're so perfect, I.. I couldn't imagine ever looking at anyone the way I look at you."

Bashful laughter peaked from Minho's throat as he shook his head, his mouth opening to say something, anything, but you beat him to it. Your lips gently pressed against his, a tender gesture that left him momentarily stunned.

A squeak of surprise escaped him as his eyebrows shot up, his hands hovering in the air as if suspended in disbelief. But as the warmth of your kiss enveloped him, all his doubt melted away, replaced by a rush of overwhelming affection and gratitude.

With a soft sigh of contentment he leaned into the kiss, his hands finding your hips as yours rested on his chest, finally getting to savour the sweet taste of your lips against his own.

The muffled sound of cheers and clapping made the two of you swing your heads around in surprise. There, all 7 of his friends had their faces pressed against the glass of Minho's kitchen window, alight with joy and pride.

You and Minho shared a sheepish glance before bursting into laughter, and as he backed away to finally bring you to his 'get together', you decided it didn't even mean that much to you anymore. Not after what had just happened anyway. You'd waited way too long.

You grabbed his hand, waving goodbye to his friends and dragging the man stumbling inside your house so that you were away from prying eyes and teasing smiles.

The shy grin that graced his lips made you need to push him against the door, listen to the gasp that escaped him and watch the way his ears went bright red.

Perfect, he was perfect, down to all his little tells and quirks.

"Go easy on me," he giggled nervously, "I didn't mean to hide it for so long."

You hummed, basking in his stuttered breathing as you played with the hem of his shirt- your fingers grazing the warm skin of his stomach underneath.

"Say please."

Taglist: @linos-kitten @agi-ppangx @milf-ivy @stayinlimbo @lastgreatamericandynasty1

(taglist has two lines now, yippee!! TYSM 🫶)

You stood in the cool night air, your breath forming small clouds in front of you as you gazed up at Minho's window, hugging your arms over the thin layer of your cardigan. A mischievous grin spread across your lips as you reached up, hoisting yourself onto his balcony so that you could hover your fingers over his window latch.

It was rusty and fragile, and it looked like it hadn't been used since it was installed many years ago. With the gentlest of twists, the lock snapped open with a gratifying click.

You stifled a giggle, your heart fluttering with images of him completely flustered when he woke up to find you beside him, completely unaware. The thrill of sneaking in sent your pulse skyrocketing.

With a swift push, you opened the window, his hinges creaking ever so slightly, but you didn't care enough to stop pushing.

You took a deep breath and hoisted yourself through, your barely tied boots hitting his carpet softly.

As your eyes adjusted to his room, your gaze swept across the new surroundings, the soft glow of the moonlight letting you see well enough. Posters of his favourite bands stuck haphazardly across the walls, a guitar casually leaning against the bookshelf- filled with novels and poetry and manga. You smiled as you saw his desk, cluttered with his notes and random sketches, crumpled pieces of paper stacked underneath his cans of mountain dew. His room felt just like him, adorably chaotic.

As you tiptoed closer to his bed, your eyes landed on him, sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. He looked so cute, his tousled black hair splayed across his forehead, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Minho was so.. Minho.

It was hard to ignore the desire he planted in you.

You were so entranced by the thought of him that you didn't even notice anything blocking your path to him until your foot was firmly in his bin.

With a surprised giggle, you stumbled forward, falling down to the foot of his bed as your arms reached out to steady yourself- unintentionally jostling him awake.

Minho's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, confusion was all you could read on his face as he sat up, rubbing his face with his hands. He blinked a couple of times, trying to process the sight of you in front of him.

"Y-Y/n, what are you doing in my room?" He mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

You couldn't help but giggle slightly, a desire filled blush heating up your cheeks as your eyes observed his confusion. With a deliberate seductiveness, you climbed forward, crawling on top of him.

"Sorry, i just really need to ride you." You hummed, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth.

"What?!" He whisper yelled.

Minho leaned back instinctively, his adam's apple visibly bobbing in his throat as he gulped.

Your heart raced as you moved forward, shrugging off your cardigan as you settled into his lap. With one hand, you caressed his chest over his black t shirt, the other fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.

"Wait- W- Ride me?" He stammered, his ears glowing red.

Oh, he was adorable.

Part of you just didn't understand how he inspired such wicked thoughts in you, but 90% of you couldn't care less, wanting to spend the time before your inevitable social slaughter with him inside you.

"Just shut up, take your shirt off," you whispered against his lips, pressing them together with a soft yet desperate urgency.

He took a second to process your statement, your lips moving on his, your hands tugging his hair, before he let out a low moan. Minho's mind seemed to catch up then.

He nodded quickly, his hands fumbling to find the hem of his shirt beneath his duvet so that he could raise it up and over his head. You heard his breathing quicken as he chucked it somewhere behind you, but you were shoving your tongue between his lips before he could even catch a break.

Your hands seemed to move of their own accord, clammering at his shoulders as you grinded against him.

"Ahh.. god," he murmured, his mouth pulling into a nervous smile as he squeezed his eyes shut cutely. "I-Is this because of-"

"Yeah," you bit his bottom lip, "don't focus on that, Min, just touch me."

"Alright, okay.." He whispered, his hands tentatively climbing your body, caressing your arms, gently tracing your collarbones until he held your face in his palms with so much softness that it almost made you laugh.

"No, Minho, I need it hard." You urged him, lifting your hips for a second so you could yank away the covers between your bodies.

As you pressed yourself back into his lap, you felt the thickness in his boxers between your legs. You sighed and rocked your hips back and forth, watching the way his teeth claimed his bottom lip- a small whimper escaping anyway.

He heard your words because he nodded, but the furthest he got with your plead was cradling your face with maybe a smidge more force as he leant his head back against the wall.

"Harder," you huffed, and his eyes fluttered open nervously, flicking up and down your body.

"Really? H-harder?"

"Mm," you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. "Slap me, pull my ha-"

"Yeah.. O-Okay," he gulped, sliding his hand round to gather your hair in a fist, tugging your head back.

He winced, and you just knew he was about to apologise before he heard the relieved moan unabashedly leave you. Minho seemed to falter, his other hand dropping straight to your ass to deliver a quick, slightly nervous tap.

"That's it.. yeah," you grinned, "come on, more."

The next moments seemed to trigger realisation in him. It was like watching the light bulb spark right above his head as confidence started to flicker in his anxious heart. He shifted his weight underneath you, gripping your waist firmly as he guided your strokes.

The man leaned in with a grin, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was deeper and more assured than the first. It sent a rush of heat through you, your desire igniting tenfold as he started to reciprocate stronger.

"How did you.. Mm, even find my address?"

"Shh," you giggled, grabbing his chin and pulling his head down as you raised to your knees. "Don't ask."

He laughed breathlessly, his eyes flicking down, confronted with the sight of his straining bulge. Luckily, he had the common sense to know what it was you wanted, and quickly pulled his boxers down past his cock.

"God, you're beautiful." You praised him, licking the underside of his jaw. "You know that?"

He shook his head, parting his lips to respond, except nothing but a strangled gasp ever left him as you sunk down until he bottomed out inside of you.

"Fuck," you hissed, gripping his shoulders. "Wow."

"Y-Yeah," he moaned, the sweet sound muffled as he slapped his palm over his mouth. "Wow."

Using your leverage, you raised your hips slowly until just his tip was being sucked inside you- and you dropped your body until you were flush against him again. He struggled to keep quiet when you started to bounce, sticking true to your need for hard and rough.

"G-God, wait-"

"I can't, Min," you whined, giving him a little slap to the chest.

You could hardly think with all the sensations, Minho's long length stroking that soft spot inside you with every drop of your hips. His hands desperately tugging at every piece of flesh he could fit between his fingers to try and keep up. His strong thighs twitching and snapping up underneath you, subconsciously trying to reach deeper and deeper.

"Baby, Y/n, b-baby.." He hissed, choking out the words between whimpers.

"Yeah?" You sighed out blissfully.

"M'gonna.. uhhng, I'm.. oh.."

Adorable.

You tugged at his black hair, your breath bouncing off of the shell of his ear as you bit your lip.

"Please.. Min, w-wait, I'm not done yet."

He nodded eagerly, longing to please you at heart- although the sentiment came with a string of whines and louder moans as he squeezed his nails into your thighs.

"You're.. g-going to wake your parents-" you chuckled.

Minho cringed, but the expression lasted no longer than a second before it melted back into ecstasy. The thought seemed to enter one ear and pour out the other as you kept bouncing up and down, your walls milking his cock.

You clenched around him wildly as you felt yourself rocketing towards an orgasm. The room was filled with the lewd noises of sex, his bed banging against the wall and the metal creaking rhythmically. If that wasn't enough, the two of you were hardly trying to keep it down.

"Fuck!" He grabbed your hips, forcefully speeding up your pace to keep some sense of control. "I.. I c-can't wait.."

You nodded, biting your lip until it tuned white. "Mm, f-uck, cum then."

"Are.. are you sure?"

"On the pill," you clarified, easing the restraint in his expression, you had been too desperate to bother with a condom.

His eyes almost rolled back into his head at the thought of cumming inside of you, and it seemed to do him in, because seconds later he was rooting your hips flush to his. Minho's fingers dug into your skin, pressing you down, pinning you against him while he shot the milky white ropes of his release inside of you.

You squirmed, trying to rock against him for your own orgasm for only a single moment before you gave up and shot your hand between your legs- the pads of your fingers rubbing your clit vigorously. You chased the climax that very almost got away from you, but you managed to cream on his cock without much more effort.

His eyes fluttered open just in time to watch you arch your back and hang your head with a blissful smile. Minho mirrored your expression, his nerves alight with the thrill of fucking while the possibility of being caught dangled in front of his nose, but he managed to relax anyway.

His body slid down the wall slightly, his fingers gently brushing the hair from your face, unsticking it from your forehead.

"Did- um, was that okay?" He asked quietly, the shyness seeming to seep back into him the longer he watched you come down.

"It was perfect, Minho." You giggled, easing his worry. "But I'm not letting you sleep anytime soon."

"A-ah.." He murmured, his face flushing boyishly. "You want more?"

With a teasing grin, you carded your fingers across his scalp, exposing his face to you properly after his bangs were swept away. You couldn't help but admire the way his skin got redder, contrasting his midnight hair.

"You better chug that mountain dew, Min."

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Usually you could keep a sense of normalcy when you were around him, even alone with him your feelings had never been this hard to regulate- yet now as he moved forward to lean on the counter, your hands started to shake slightly and you knew why.

This reaction to him was from everything, the whole night, your friends who had taken it upon themselves to float forward your feelings for Minho, and everything since.

The space of five or six hours changed everything.

Their words had lit the fire of anxiety underneath you, he had been sat just across from you the whole time and you weren't ready to face the music yet.

The kitchen suddenly felt too small and way too intimate.

21:10

Your group was lounged around the living room casually, the air filled with the scent of pizza and alcohol, and the low hum of background music- just laughing and drinking as other people you didn't know as well passed by in the background.

You were sat cross-legged on the floor with Ryujin, a soft cushion at your back, feeling the slight buzz of your first drink and the gentle warmth of the room as her head rested on your lap. Minho was there too, sprawled comfortably on the couch opposite you, his laughter blending seamlessly with everyone else's as you watched Jisung lean over to whisper something in his ear.

He grinned at you, and you mirrored his expression before sticking your tongue out. The man feigned offence, clutching his heart like you had deeply hurt him, and a fit of giggles left you in the form of breathy bursts of air through your nose.

The game started off light, with questions bouncing from favorite movies to embarrassing moments, each progressively getting more private as you all collectively got more comfortable with it.

Then it happened.

It was your turn, and the room's attention turned to you with a mix of curiosity and mischief as Jeongin dared you to admit if you had a crush on anyone after you had forfeited the truth that had been along the same lines.

Crafty and sly, something that you would've never expected from the youngest of you all had you not grown up with him.

"Well, we all know it's Minho that she likes, right?" Seungmin teased, a knowing smile pulling at his lips.

The sudden focus on you and him sent a wave of heat to your cheeks.

Your eyes instinctively sought his, looking for any sign of a reaction, you weren't expecting him to have known- you were good at hiding it. Or, atleast you thought you had been.

There was a brief moment, a flicker of surprise in his eyes maybe, before he covered it with a sheepish shrug, his expression once again unreadable apart from the cherry red of his ears. The air seemed to stop moving around you, thick with tension as you were made acutely aware of every gaze fixed on you, waiting for a confirmation or a denial.

"Um, I don't- that's not-" you stammered, the words tangling on your tongue. "We're just friends."

A feeble attempt to deflect, to put the lid back on the box that you hadn't planned on opening right then and there, in a game of truth or dare.

But the damage had been done the second that Jeongin opened his calculative mouth. It was just Seungmin that dealt the final blow.

"Sure, sure, just friends," he echoed.

00:43

"Need help with that?" Minho asked, cocking his head towards the bottle you were struggling to open. His voice, usually so familiar, now sent a shiver down your spine.

"Oh, sure, thanks," you managed to say, handing it over, trying not to let your hand drop the stupid bottle right onto the floor.

Drunk, you must be real drunk.

As he easily opened it, his eyes met yours, and for a moment, it was as if all the noise from the other room faded into a charged silence.

"You doing okay still?" he asked, genuine concern flickering in his gaze. It was a simple question, but loaded with a weight that you couldn't quite dissect.

Maybe he was checking back in after your friends had continued to tease you, or he was concerned about how inebriated you had been getting despite his advice to slow down- so much so that you couldn't even make yourself the next drink without help.

Who knows which one? You had lost count a while ago.

You took the bottle back, fingers brushing against his for just a second, sparking an involuntary flutter in your stomach.

"Mhm, just... it's hot in here, right?" you deflected, pouring your drink with what you hoped was a hand steadier than your voice sounded.

Minho chuckled, a sound that usually comforted you but now seemed to contribute to the nervous excitement building inside you. Too nervous, too excited- and too full of vodka to have a proper grasp on what you might let slip the longer you were alone like this.

"Maybe it's me," he said, his grin stretching across his beautiful features.

You can say that again.

"Oh, thanks," the man laughed, his expression turning bashful as your face paled.

Shit!

Definitely too many drinks.

21:16

Needing a moment away from the heat of all those eyes, especially Minho's, the kitchen offered a brief sanctuary, a place to gather your thoughts and slow the race of your heart.

Or maybe it was the next shot you were pouring that was the real sanctuary?

Who knows? Who cares?

You were barely a minute into your refuge when the door swung open again. You didn't have to look up to know it was Minho; the slight pause in his movements paired with the soft exhale, it was all stupidly familiar to you, like you'd memorized him enough you knew who it was with your eyes closed.

"Hey, you okay?"

His voice was laced with something more, not just the casual check-in of a friend but something that seemed more personal, more curious to your distress.

You nodded, managing a small smile.

"Yeah, just needed a break," you admitted.

Minho moved closer, his presence no longer the comforting warmth you used to appreciate, especially after all that.

"He's just messing around, you know? Don't take it too seriously," he smiled, but there was a hesitance in his tone, as if he was speaking as much to himself as he was you.

"I know," you replied, finally meeting his gaze. "It's just.."

There was a pause then, you didn't finish your sentence and he didn't start one. Minho seemed to contemplate his next words carefully, aware that the line of your friendship was more fragile right now than either of you wanted to admit.

"If it ..bothers you, I mean- I can tell them to stop. Really, it's no big deal," he offered, the unspoken weight of his words suggesting that maybe, just maybe..

It was then you realized that he can't have just followed you out of concern, but maybe it had affected him too. There was a possibility that your friends' jokes were something that he wanted answered.

Was he going to ask?

Please, don't ask.

"Thanks, that.. means a lot," you found yourself saying in return. "But it's okay, don't worry. We know that we're friends."

He nodded, a small smile gracing his lips, acknowledging the agreement to maintain the status quo, at least for now.

You thought that you had gotten away with it, scraped by and kept yourself away from that much more embarrassment- but before you could return with your next drink, Minho paused in the doorway of the kitchen.

His hand rested lightly on the frame, turning back to you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Was it... I mean, is it true?" His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, immediately making you fix your gaze onto your heeled feet rather than his face.

For a moment you were too struck with nervousness to respond properly. The fear that he might start teasing you as well, or worse, that your admission might somehow ruin the easy friendship you had been maintaining left you scrambling for the right words.

"I, um," you started, composure faltering under his stare. The warmth in his eyes did nothing to ease the sudden dryness in your throat. "It's just- they're just joking, like you said. We're friends, right?"

But the word 'friends' felt hollow on your tongue, too simple to describe the tangle of emotions you had been trying to navigate, to contain. Your voice betrayed the uncertainty you felt, wavering slightly.

You hoped he didn't notice, but it was Minho after all.

He studied you for a moment longer, trying to figure out the truth hidden in your stammered response. Then he nodded with the slightest hint of hesitation.

"Yeah, of course. Friends."

But the way he said it, god, so low and thoughtful.

It all lingered as he looked down at you, emotions and all, a mix between confessing and just the plain denial you'd been favouring, before he stepped back.

"Let's get back," he suggested with an airy smile, his voice returning to its usual easy tone as the room started to fill with other people that wanted refills or somewhere that wasn't the main rooms. "Will you need another drink? Or was that shot enough?"

00:44

"You're hot too, I guess it's both of us, hm?"

So simple and direct, the compliment hung in the air, imbued with all the straight honesty that Minho always seemed to present. It was that that made you certain he was telling you the truth, not just saying something back to be polite.

Your heart, doing a pretty pityful job at beating regularly- seemed to pause again, and then try to hammer out of your chest with double the intensity. Things like that weren't outside the realm of the type of joking your friendship with him held, but.. the timing, god, after everything that happened just tonight?

The way he said it, and the look in his eyes, and the subtle way he leant in..

You were a kitchen away from the eyes and ears of your group who you were sure would jump at the opportunity to use what had just been casually shared between the two of you to poke fun- you weren't even alone in the kitchen anymore. But conversations flowing between the random guests, and the fact that they were just random guests, it seemed to not make you need to shy too far away.

Usual responses that you could've come up with sober, something witty or a quick change of topic, none of it came to you. Instead, you locked eyes with him, searching for a sign that he was just playing- or that he didn't mean it as seriously as he said it.

You didn't find anything though.

Just an open, strangely earnest smile painted on his face.

"I guess we.. make quite a pair," you managed, the words leaving your throat in barely anything more than a whisper. "Thanks."

Minho's smile deepened, reaching his eyes and lighting them up with that familiar little twinkle that made your next breath feel impossible.

"I think we do too."

22:23

Minho noticed quickly that you were indulging in the drinks a bit more freely than usual. Each time you reached for another, giddy laughter spilling from you despite the absence of anything funny in the general vicinity, a twinge of concern flickered through him.

"Easy," he joked after your third shot in a few long minutes, the laughter in his voice not quite reaching his eyes. "You're going to start seeing two of me, you can barely handle one."

His comment earned a playful shove from you but your balance was skewed by the alcohol, causing you to bump into him.

You giggled out a small sorry, and he shrugged it off.

As the night progressed- the concept of time for him seemed to blur. On one hand, it really hadn't been that long, maybe an hour, the room growing more and more congested, but with the rate that you were drinking the night could've very well been over. He kept himself instinctively close to you, while you also pushed more drinks into his hands too, he didn't want to leave your side.

It wasn't just that that had him worried; it was the way people moved in situations like these, too close, too careless, too drunk. So, when the crowd pushed you slightly towards him again, Minho's hand found its way to your waist to steady you, to guide you safely through the bodies.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice a low thrum in your ear over the noise.

But.. if he was honest with himself, the concern was only part of it. The other part was that same longing, as always. The warmth of you against his palm, the way you looked up and smiled, thanked him even, so trusting and genuine, made his heart skip. It wasn't just the need to protect you; it was the desire to be close, and claim even just a moment while pretending he just cared.

He was watching over you more than he usually would, in times when he would let you go to pass the reigns of responsibility over to Ryujin, instead he steered you away and took you outside to get fresh air. When Jisung or Chan came to grab him he took you along, and left as soon as you wanted to wander off.

Why was he doing this now?

Even more than usual, after he had tried.

Just then he had tried, outright asked you if it was true that you had feelings for him and you confirmed that you were just friends.

Then he had agreed. So, really, who could he blame but himself.

It was stupid to let his heart keep fluttering like this, to try and stay close to you like he always did after the little flame in his heart had been extinguished.

00:46

Your defenses were down, stripped away by the honesty of the moment and the cruel clutch of the alcohol that made your thoughts fuzz and blur at the edges.

A pair..

The confession just.. slipped out.

An unguarded, honest spill of words, simple and raw.

"I lied! I do like you."

The moment the words left your lips, it all crashed back, along with all the effort that you'd gone through to convince yourself (and him) that you were just friends. The weight of the sudden confession, what you'd just admitted, hit you full force.

With a streak of panic, your hand shot up to your mouth to cover it- as if trying to shove the words back inside and undo it.

His reaction took a while. You saw the gears moving behind his frozen face, the shutter for a fraction of a second, the way his eyebrows twitched down into a little confused frown.

You cringed at yourself from deep within, scrunching your face up and letting out a muffled groan.

Well.

You never intended to confess like that, or ever, especially not tonight at least- with both of your minds doused in alcohol in the middle of Changbin's kitchen at.. 12:46 am.

Minho, after an eternity of (a few) seconds, seemed to gather himself. 

"You do?" he asked, his voice a mix of surprise, curiosity, and something else, a tenderness that you hadn't even dared to hope for.

You'd noticed it throughout the night, but you refused to let yourself hope.

There was a delicate thread next, on the verge of snapping- the confirmation, the point of no return. You could say no, -ha! april fools?- a few days late if you really didn't want it out. But what use would that be?

You knew, he knew..

Go on, pull it, snap it.

Your heart was already racing, pounding against your chest with a ferocity that made you dizzy, or maybe that was just the vodka sloshing through your veins, now a regrettable decision.

"..I do," you admitted, the words muffled behind your hands, still covering your face as if they could shield you from the consequences. Force you to think about whatever you were saying.

Minho took a step closer, "thank you for telling me," he said, his voice low and steady.

Not what you expected, honestly.

It wasn't a rejection, it wasn't what you feared, but it also wasn't a definite reciprocation. It wasn't the answer you'd almost hoped for.

But it was him through and through, straightforward- yet oh so very layered.

"Let's, um, talk about this when we're sober, okay? I want to make sure we understand each other, without.. any lies."

Now he's deflecting, making you wait, making you wonder.

In a rush of self doubting thoughts, desperation and desire masked by a thinly veiled cover of frustration with his evasion, the questions poured out.

"Do you like me back? Or are you just going to keep me guessing? Is this you playing hard to get or something? Are you going to reject me when we're sobered up?"

Definitely drunk.

The vulnerability you'd just poured out was overwhelming, dreading and hoping in equal measure. The possibility of rejection, especially now, felt like too much to bear, but the uncertainty was way worse. You were suspended in a limbo of your own making.

He wasn't helping.

Minho's reaction to your sudden outburst was a mixture of surprise and something akin to understanding.

For a moment, he didn't speak, again, and the silence stretched even longer out between you. Then, he took a deep breath, and when he spoke, his voice was steady, a little lilt in it that must've been amusement at your slurry of questions.

You had a hard time believing that he'd even drunk any of the drinks that you were handing him.

How had he sobered up?

"I'm not playing hard to get," he said, smiling a tiny bit. "And I'm not going to reject you either."

The fact that he didn't immediately confirm his feelings for you still left a part of you unsettled.

"I think... I think we need to talk about this more, sober," Minho continued, his gaze steady on yours, inviting you to see the sincerity in his eyes. "I don't wanna say something now that you won't remember. You deserve more than a spur of the moment response.."

23:09

"Would you slow down?" Minho laughed, a gentle plea laced with affection, as he gently reached for the bottle in your hand. "It's only 11 pm, there's time, don't worry."

You protested half-heartedly with a playful slap to his hand, the warmth of the alcohol making your words a little slurred. "I'm fine, Min, don't even worry about me," you insisted, but to your own ears, the words sounded unconvincing.

"I know you're fine, but you should just pace yourself a bit," he suggested, his voice softening as he guided you towards the open door leading to the back garden.

The cool night air hit you like a soft wave lapping over your thoughts, momentarily clearing your head the minute you stepped outside. The sounds of the party faded into a distant hum as he shut the door behind the two of you, replaced by the quiet rustle of leaves in the gentle wind.

"If you pass out now, you'll sleep until the morning, and I know you don't like to miss out."

As you flopped down against the railing of the porch, Minho dropped himself besides you, his body a steady comfort as you leant your head on his shoulder.

He took the bottle in his second attempt to rid you of it, starting to take sips of it himself instead of leaving it three quarters of the way full.

"I guess you could be right," you murmured, glancing up at him.

"You know I'm right."

"Fine, fine, I'll slow down, a tiny bit," you rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him with your cheek, "thanks."

"For what?"

"Making sure I don't miss out."

For looking out for me.

"It's what friends are for," he replied, returning your smile with a warmth that made your heart flutter a little bit.

"You really think we're friends?" you asked, your eyebrows raised in a coy challenge that left Minho momentarily flustered.

It was a simple question, one that seemed innocent enough on the surface, but Minho couldn't shake the feeling that there could be more to it.

Were you teasing him again?

Pretending not to like him, as you often did?

He'd think that if this night hadn't been such a.. such a game changer, a spark, so much to go on.

Were you teasing or were you probing, searching for something, giving him another chance to disagree?

He desperately wanted to ask, but the uncertainty left him at a loss for words. He searched your eyes for a hint, a clue to what you meant, but found only the same playful glint that had always been there, maddeningly unreadable.

"We.. we are friends, aren't we?" he replied finally, the nervousness evident in his voice despite his best efforts to sound casual. You seemed not to notice, thankfully.

"Mm, I guess so, I don't know if I want to be."

Shit? Shit. Shit?!

Your giggly response only added to Minho's internal turmoil. He desperately wanted to ask if you were on the same page, if you meant what he thought you meant. And before he could stop himself, the words spilled out, fueled by your liquid courage he'd been swigging and a desperate longing for clarity.

"I don't want to be..." he almost whispered, the words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken implications and a lot more tender than he wanted it to be.

That wasn't teasing, that was basically a confession.

He caught himself mid-sentence, the realization of how he was saying what he was saying hitting him like a ton of bricks. Quickly, he backtracked, trying to cover his drunken mistake by playing into what he thought you meant in the first place.

"Why would I want to be friends with you, you're such a loser," he grinned, the words forced and strained as he struggled to hide the wobble in his voice and the blush creeping up his cheeks.

No more alcohol for him, that was it.

He was done.

For a second he thought the delicate balance of your 'friendship' had been disrupted by his slip of the tongue. But as if by mutual agreement, you both let out a laugh, the sound carrying a hint of relief and a touch of uncertainty.

The rest of the night, Minho nursed nothing but a glass of water- determined not to let anything like that happen again.

If he was going to confess, he definitely wasn't going to do it drunk, when he could barely figure out what he was saying.

He wanted to be present, he didn't just want to blurt it out.

00:47

"I don't care what I deserve! God I just- I want you to like me back, I want you to just.. kiss me ..already," you said, your voice carrying a tremor of vulnerability beneath the frustration.

The words came out more forcefully than you intended, driven by your annoyance and that deep desire that had been building throughout the night.

Minho's reaction was immediate that time; the surprise flashed across his features straight away, not just at the blunt force of your words but also at the naked want they conveyed. You tugged on his shirt with a bitten lip and he was convinced his heart actually did stop, a gasp capturing and holding his lungs hostage.

Everything that had been building up, ever since Seungmin catalysed what would've been months of development into a single night, it all suddenly felt like it had reached its crescendo.

And then Minho quickly closed the distance between you. It wasn't just a response to your challenge, or just what had happened tonight; it was every moment before too, every glance exchanged and every flirty word. It was finally an acknowledgment of the connection that had been growing between you since day one, one that neither of you fully understood but felt deeply anyway.

When his lips finally met yours, it was with an urge that you felt deep in his chest as he sighed out. It was the kind of kiss that said what words couldn't, carrying with it all the feelings that the man hadn't been ready to voice until now.

When you broke apart, he gulped audibly, the look in his eyes one of relief as they flitted across your face and kept coming back to your lips.

"Wow I.." he started, his voice suddenly so hoarse, "I regret waiting so long, fuck."

His hand reached up to hold the collar of your dress in his fist.

"I like you, if it's still not obvious."

Minho tugged on the fabric, bringing your face forward yet again as he slotted his mouth back on yours, a desperate urge that contradicted his softly whispered words.

The cautions that swam around his brain about you not remembering his confession dissapated when he kissed you, who cares, he'd remind you again in the morning. In fact, he'd never let you forget.

Sure, he was a little tipsy still- and a conversation tomorrow was definitely necessary, but right now he needed to indulge.

You pulled against his shoulders, responding to him in kind- eagerly parting your lips when he gently poked his tongue against them. The world around you seemed to narrow down to just the space you occupied together.

This second one was different from the first; the two of you were surrendering, giving up your friendship for something more, finally. And though he knew the wisdom in waiting, in that instant, he couldn't have cared less anymore.

The magnetic pull towards you was too strong to resist.

Fueled by the heady mix of emotions and the lingering effects of alcohol, the kiss had enveloped you both in a bubble of intimacy. But the clatter of things falling off the counter to the floor shattered the moment, pulling you both back to reality with a jolt.

Startled, you leaned away from Minho, a sheepish laugh escaping your lips as you realized yet again that you weren't alone in the kitchen anymore. Your arm had taken the place of the bottles and glasses that were behind where he had just backed you against the counter.

Making awkward eye contact with the people in the kitchen that had turnt to look at what caused the obnoxious crashing caused flushes to appear on the two of your faces.

Sharing a glance with Minho, you both laughed nervously, the tension of the interrupted kiss dissipating into the air. It was a reminder that you weren't alone, you were surrounded by friends and acquaintances and frankly random people.

"Oops," you muttered, bending down to pick up the fallen objects, trying to shake off the uncomfortable feeling that lingered in the air. Minho joined in, his laughter mixing with yours as you both tried to play off the incident as nothing more than a clumsy mishap.

But even as you were doing something as mundane as clearing up the mess you'd created, a part of you couldn't shake that feeling, the way Minho's lips had pushed against yours, so soft and pillowy, the way his touch had ignited a fire within you.

As you straightened up, everything safely back on the counter, you shared another look with Minho.

You hung an invitation in the air, hesitant and filled with unspoken longing. "Do... you wanna, uh..." you started, the words trailing off as you struggled to find the right way to express what you were feeling, a sheepish blush creeping up your neck.

"Find somewhere... quieter?" he finished for you, his voice low and filled with something else. Something urgent. It was a simple suggestion, but the implication behind it was clear.

With a nod, you let out a breath of anticipation- your shoulders sucking up as you bounced up and down on your toes. You laughed playfully as you allowed the man to pull you out of the kitchen and through the hallway, his hand warm against yours.

"All our friends can see us 'sneaking off'," you remarked, a hint of mischief in your tone as you glanced out at the knowing smiles and glances between the members of your group as you passed by.

But Minho simply shrugged, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly.

"They all knew anyway."

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After dumping the shopping down into the kitchen, you heard his shoes tap on the floor a few times- almost running into the living room to flop down onto the couch and into your lap.

"Baby," he mumbled, wrapping his hands around your waist.

Oh, he wasn't going to make it easy for you.

You pryed his fingers off of you and stood, moving him off of your lap, his kicked puppy eyes staring up at you like you'd just committed several atrocities by not cuddling him.

"You didn't put the shopping away, silly."

He scrambled up to follow you into the kitchen, shuffling his feet as soon as he was back in your general vicinity, with a pout and sad sad eyes- he made grabby hands.

You could've folded right there.

Putting packets of food into his open palms, you flashed him an innocent smile and continued to unload the shopping.

Minho blew a short puff of air out of his nose and reluctantly helped.

After a few long seconds though he decided he wanted your attention again and placed his chin down on your shoulder, slinking his arms around your stomach.

"Min, come on," you said, shrugging him off to crouch down and begin putting the frozen produce away into the lower drawers.

He let out an angry huff and folded the empty bags to put back away for when they were next needed. His sulking didn't stop, every two seconds a forlorn sigh left his lips- hoping to make you turn around and notice him properly.

When you did, his eyes lit up, sparkling with hope that you would see his need for you to just sit him down and cuddle with him on the sofa.

"Minho?"

He nodded, raising his eyebrows and shuffling himself closer to where you sat on the floor. You placed your hand on his knee, and a smile began to grace his face.

"You forgot the milk."

His eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip protruding.

He really did look like he needed a hug, his eyes searching yours for that tug of sympathy that you usually felt when he came home all clingy like this. He'd be able to goad you into taking care of him, stroking your fingers through his hair and letting him fall asleep with his head buried into your chest.

Wasn't he making it obvious enough?

"I.. I'm sorry," he mumbled, effectively breaking your heart in two.

Oh he knew.

He knew you couldn't resist him when he was sad, when he gave you those eyes and his voice got all small- he knew you'd fold. The urge to tell him it was okay and that you didn't even really need the milk almost beat you out.

"Min.."

He glanced up.

Yes, he'd won.

The twinkle in his eyes resurfaced as he pulled himself forward and started to dump his body weight on you. Your lips turned into a downward smile, placing a hand on the back of his head as he rested it under your chin.

"..you're going to get it right?"

"Hm?"

"The milk, baby, you're gonna go get some?"

"Really? Do you really need it?" He looked up, his face scrunching into a confused moue.

You nodded.

Minho grumbled and hauled himself up, eyebrows pushed down over his eyes as he dragged his feet to the door. He looked back over his shoulder, anticipating you to tell him not to worry, and pull him back for a hug but you had already taken your focus off of him. He sighed yet again, waiting for your eyes to find him, but they never came.

Fine.

The door softly shut behind him.

Oh god that was too much. You didn't want to ever deny him his cuddles ever again, as soon as he was back you'd hug and kiss him until he couldn't take it anymore. Just one more look at that expression and you wouldn't be able to resist.

Though, when he did get back, he quietly placed the milk in the fridge and pattered through the hall to the bedroom- not coming to find you and ask for your attention again.

After a few minutes you realised he wasn't coming back out and jumped up to follow him inside.

"Minho," you tapped gently on the door, peeking in to see him balled up on the bed, his knees almost reaching his chest- scrolling through his phone with a permanent pout on his lips. "You wanna cuddle?"

His head snapped up, hesitantly leaning onto his elbows and narrowing his eyes at you- like you were going to rip it all away from him again if he accepted.

"I saw this video," you started, walking over to where he lay on your bed. "Of someone not petting their cat to see how it reacted."

Minho's chin pointed down, looking at you through his long eyelashes and immediately making you feel sorry for teasing him.

"I wanted to try it on you," you whispered, placing your forehead on his, "I'm sorry, baby, I just thought it'd be cute."

He huffed, but gave in as soon as your lips met his, sad glare melting into a little smile.

"And it was," you giggled quietly, "but I won't do it again, I promise, I'll give you all the cuddles from now on."

The man nodded, wrapping his arms around you for the third time, a content hum leaving his throat when you softly scratched his scalp- running your fingers through his hair and stroking the back of his head.

You didn't often wake up before he did, his idol routine having his body conditioned to early working hours making his natural clock attuned to waking up at times like 4 or 5am. But it was 6:30am and he was still resting soundly, and you were up.

You'd gone through the effort of taking a few hours nap yesterday so that you'd be able to wake up early for him on his birthday.

But you didn't count on this.

It was nice for a change. Being able to see him so peaceful, no frown lines or furrowed eyebrows, no sly smirk or cute dimples. Just resting.

You leant forward to kiss his cheek, leaving remnants of the pink lipstick you'd forgotten to wash off yesterday- but no matter. The sight of him so vulnerable with the mark of your lips on his cheek was surprisingly attractive. You slowly ducked down, pushing your head through the gap to get to his neck as you started to kiss the skin under his jawline, leaving little pink marks in a trail down to his collarbone.

Oh god, you thought to yourself as you admired him from above.

You might have a thing for this.

His face scrunched from the feeling, a little smile on the edge of his mouth that was just so adorable.

Shuffling down the bed, you kicked the covers off of him and over to your side to get better access as you undid the buttons of his shirt. You placed your lips down under his bellybutton, continuing to litter his stomach with those pretty pink kisses until his hand travelled over, smudging a few of them in his effort to quell an itch.

You scoffed, holding his wrist so he couldn't ruin anymore in his sleepiness, bringing the back of his hand to your mouth- where you kissed his knuckles, twisting to cover his palm in lipstick. You watched his fingers flex at the sensation, an audible hum leaving his throat while he turnt his head to nestle further into the pillow.

You almost just wanted to pounce on him, cover the patch of his neck he'd just revealed to you, but you also wanted him to gently wake up to being pampered.

It was a hard decision, but you remained diligent, teasingly nipping his arm as you traveled up- brushing your lips over every patch of skin until you were back to his shoulders.

"Mm," he purred, leaning into you as you sucked his neck, an unconscious smile spreading on his face.

It was clear he was still fast asleep, but the pleasant noises he was making had you glancing up each time, half expecting his eyes to be crinkled open and staring down with that mischievous glint and a coy smile.

You settled down besides him, still in his sleep his arm snaked around your torso, pulling you close as you kept prying those noises from his throat. That was when you noticed something sticking up in his boxers, and you couldn't help but dance your fingers down over his bulge.

It was almost instant that he fell silent, as if he was subconsciously trying to figure out what had changed, the cogs in his mind diligently turning as you began palming him through his underwear.

You smiled, kissing his cheek before pushing his waistband, letting it rest lower on his hips so you could close your hand around his dick.

His eyebrows furrowed down, blowing a small breath of air out of his nose and you smiled, gently biting on his bottom lip. "Mm, you feel that Minho?"

His breaths got deeper as you started to move up and down, your thumb swiping the little beads of precum that were forming and massaging his slit.

He started to shift under you, repositioning his shoulders- barely an inch away from arching his back as his tensing jaw fell slack.

Being able to see his natural reactions to you was delightful, especially because while he was awake he wouldn't have dreamed of letting you see his calm and nonchalant facade cracking not even 30 seconds into pumping him. Maybe he'd tease you with over the top moans, but you had to practically wrench this kind of thing from him usually. Still, you had to applaud his resolve if this was what he fought down each time.

"Ah, you're so cute, I don't know why you hide this from me," you smirked into his neck, "it's okay to let me take care of you sometimes."

His face scrunched as if he was subconsciously giving you attitude, quickly dropping the expression as you squeezed his base, twisting your hand sharply, cruising your thumb back over the tip and back down one of the veins.

Just how he liked it.

Minho's head turnt, burying his face in your hair and letting out his first moan, breathy, whiny, and unknowingly right in your ear.

You quickly leant up, checking to see if he was awake yet, but his eyes were still firmly clenched shut.

His eyebrows were tilted up, the wisps of hair that hung over his forehead were now sticking to the beads of sweat that were forming. His bottom lip was sucked into his mouth, and his cheeks and ears were slathered in this beautiful crimson colour.

Squirming under your actions, his hand that was wrapped around you grabbed at your t-shirt almost frantically. Trying to either tug you down or keep himself grounded as his spine curved dangerously off of the mattress, he released his grip and fastened it just as quick- like he couldn't decide how he wanted to approach this.

Every one of his breaths was almost a whimper now, raspy from being the first noises of the morning, his ribcage faltering under the pace of his heart. His hips found your rythym, grinding up into your hand everytime you raised it, desperately chasing your touch.

"You wanna cum?" You teased, relishing in the fact you wouldn't get any consequences for taunting him like this. "Bet you wanna cum so bad, huh Min?"

He bucked up, throwing his head back, and you imagined him protesting- trying so hard to pretend he wasn't being affected, but watching his raw arousal while he was sleeping was fucking delicious.

His body stuttered, pleasure wreaking its way through his unconscious figure as he grabbed onto you. Minho's eyes fluttered open before he pushed his head into your shoulder, whimpering into your skin, and immediately shutting them again as he came through your fingers.

"Fuck, fuck.." He panted, calming his breathing as you slowed your hand, spreading his orgasm all the way to his base like a lube.

"Morning Min," you smiled, twisting your body so you were laying on you stomach next to him, running your fingers through his damp hair.

"Morning," he laughed, looking up to the ceiling, "fuck that felt good."

"Yeah?" You hummed, "thought you'd like to wake up to that."

"Mmm, do I get this every day now?"

"It's only for special occasions," you scoffed, leaning into his hand that came up to hold your cheek.

"Oh? And what special occasion is this?"

"Ha ha, obviously your birthday."

"And yet.." The brunette smiled tiredly, stretching his limbs exaggeratedly with an over the top yawn sequence that you tried not to giggle over. "Yet I still haven't heard a happy birthday from you."

"Well I was thinking.." you trailed off, coyly glancing backwards at his dick that hadn't even gone the slightest soft yet. "I could give you your second gift."

"Birthday morning sex?" He gasped, a mischievous glint shining in his eye, that playful nature he doesn't often reveal until he's managed to get an iced coffee in his system clawing out. "My lifelong dream?"

"Indeed," you grinned. As you shuffled down the mattress, you climbed over his legs, holding your tongue out and keeping eye contact while you licked the cum off of his length until it was only your saliva left on it.

"Sexy," he winked, biting his lip- propped up on his elbows as he looked down at you.

"Don't you know it," you smirked, before jumping off to rummage through his bedside table. Hunting through random stuff cluttering his drawers that was mostly yours until you found what you were looking for and scrambling back to your previous position.

He gave you a puzzled look as you applied your lipstick, his head following the direction it went when you chucked it behind you. "What's that for?"

You bent down, placing a pink kiss right on his peachy tip, and trailing them all the way down to his base before looking back up to admire your handiwork.

"I've got a new thing for covering you in lipstick," you smirked, looking up at his awed expression.

"Shit," he murmured, a dreamy smile on his mouth- finally noticing the pout marks on the rest of his body.

"Me too."

Taglist: @linos-kitten @agi-ppangx @milf-ivy

If one were so unfortunate to catch a glimpse of a siren, their fate would have already been sealed- their souls already intertwined with the curse, forcing them to bend to the ocean's will.

Alone, heartbroken, and naive, you found yourself that fateful night, lost in the endless dark expanse of the ocean. Tears stained your cheeks, the anger that had boiled in you as your crew forced you off of your ship kicking and screaming into a little boat had long since faded to sadness, to despair. They had abandoned you, thrown you overboard knowing that the chance that you would find habitable land- let alone any at all, was slim.

With a heaviness weighing upon your heart, you layed back in your small rowboat, gazing up at the glowing white moon hanging in the sky.

There wasn't any sound that interrupted the gentle rythym of the ocean waves licking the sides of the wood, each rise and fall of the boat mimicking your chest as you sighed. The vast nothingness surrounding you was nothing more than a haunting embrace now. You had cried for hours, foolishly thrown the food they loaded the little vessel with over the edge into the water in anger- now your body was eating away at your brain with regret.

There was nothing left for you anymore.

Nothing left in the flask of safe drinking water, nothing left to eat in your boat apart from yourself, nothing left in the entire ocean to save you from death.

Yet you still couldn't feel any more rage, any more sadness, any more.. anything.

This was it.

This was the end.

With nothing but the emptiness gnawing at your soul, you considered finally surrendering to the ocean. But just as you were about to give in to the numbness of the waves, a gentle hum stirred you awake again. Reluctantly you opened your eyes, but it seemed to fade away when you actively tried to hear it.

Blinking away the haze of exhaustion, you shook your head slightly, deciding that you must be at the point of dehydration-induced hallucinations. You allowed your heavy eyelids to flutter shut once more, seeking refuge in the darkness.

Lock me in this dream.

But the melody came back, evolving from a simple to hum to a voice, words, lyrics even- to a love song. No, it was.. haunting, it wasn't a love song. Not really.

Don't let me go.

With a jolt, you sat up, heart pounding in your chest, gripping the sides of your little boat tightly. You swung your head around, scanning the deep blue waves stretching in every direction, but there was nothing to be seen except miles and miles of nothing.

Our story was beautiful.

Still the lyrics continued, as clear as if whoever it was was sat right next to you singing, its haunting sound cutting through the silence.

But now you're just a memory.

"Hello?" Your voice broke the enchanting melody, raspy from not being used.

The song ceased, and your heart seemed to start beating out of your chest with anxiety at the absence of company it left in its wake. With only a few lyrics, you had grown attached to the possibility that someone was out here with you.

Come back.

Your mind blanked as you watched the tip of a tail breach the surface of the water, too large to belong to any normal fish. It swirled gracefully, creating ripples that danced around it as if it was greeting you.

Now you really were hallucinating.

Maybe you had already passed on, this couldn't be real right?

Despite your disbelief, you tentatively waved back, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

The moonlight shone a shimmering glow upon the tail's beautiful green scales, just barely illuminating its graceful form as it hovered below the surface of the water. Dangerously intrigued, you tilted your head, pushing forward slightly over the edge of your boat- squinting in an attempt to turn the shadow underneath into a silhouette.

You gasped slightly when your eyes made out a striking resemblance to a human figure beneath the water- but it seemed to shy away at your reaction. The peek of its tail that it allowed you to have vanished back under the water, and your pulse raced with fear and fascination.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," you whispered, glancing over the waves with upturned eyebrows, waiting for it to come back.

Your heart skipped a beat as the boat rocked suddenly, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With another sharp gasp, you leaned back, gripping both of the edges tightly as you braced yourself.

Whatever it was, it must have quickly swam directly underneath you, the rush of the water rocking you side to side. Eyes wide, you held your breath and looked over the edge, not daring to move from the complete center of your boat in fear of capsizing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the same gentle voice spoke, carrying across the water a teasing lilt as it mimicked you.

"Who are you?" you asked, glancing around in every direction, unable to pinpoint the whereabouts of the voice.

"My name is Lee Minho," came the reply, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

"What do you want?" you asked, raising your own voice as you tried to steady your nerves, your breath coming in sharp bursts.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the monotonous lapping of waves against the side of the boat, before he responded.

"I want to help you."

"W-Why?" you stammered, the question lingering in the air as you waited for his response, your heart pounding in your chest.

"A pretty sailor like yourself shouldn't be all alone out here."

He spoke so softly that you didn't have any room to doubt his intentions, a little laugh escaping your lips as you looked down. Despite the circumstances, a sense of warmth washed over you at his words, a flicker of gratitude mingling with the shrinking uncertainty that clouded your mind.

"What is your name?"

"Y/n."

"Tell me what happened to you," he hummed, the sweetness of his voice gliding through the air, still blanketed in mystery.

Your throat tightened as memories stirred within you, but you shook your head in response. "Can I.. can I see you first?"

"I apologize," he chuckled softly, the sound rippling through the air as the water surface broke on your left, causing you to turn towards the disturbance.

There it was again, the tip of the tail, its emerald scales catching in the moonlight as it flopped over the edge of the wooden boat. And then two hands folded over the opposite side, making you gasp and draw back.

You watched as he lifted his head out of the water, his features also illuminated by the moon's soft glow. Sparkly brown eyes met yours, like the stars themselves were staring at you.

Your bottom jaw dropped slightly in awe at the breathtaking beauty before you. As he tilted his head, brushing his dark hair away from his forehead, a hauntingly ethereal smile graced his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

"How could I be so rude?"

Something about him stirred a longing within you, a deep want to reach out towards him, to let him take you into the depths of the sea, to let him help you.

With just his presence and his voice, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling of belonging that you had never known before- let alone out here at sea.

"You're beautiful," you mumbled, the words escaping your lips in a small whisper, unable to tear your gaze away from the mesmerizing sight before you.

The longer you stared into his eyes, the more everything around you seemed to fade away, the boundaries of your vision blurring until only he remained, a beacon of hope in the loneliness of the neverending water.

Your mind was quickly being consumed by an overwhelming desire to be as close to him as physically possible.

"Won't you tell me why you're all alone?" he asked, breaking the silence with a sense of tender curiosity.

"My... crew, they threw me overboard."

As you spoke, you felt yourself drawn closer to him, like you were being pulled towards him by a magnet.

He frowned at your words, a flicker clouding his mesmerizing gaze before he dipped back underneath the water. His sudden disappearance prompted a surge of panic within you, a primal instinct urging you to follow him into the depths below like he and you were attached with handcuffs.

Without hesitation, you leaned over the edge of the boat- almost turning it over, your heart racing, fingers grazing the surface of the water in a desperate attempt to reach him. It felt as though you were being pulled under, just the short wall of the boat keeping you from following him in that split second.

Minho's soft hand intertwined with yours, his touch gentle yet firm as he pulled himself back to the surface, his movements graceful as he rested on the boundary between the air and the water. With a thoughtful expression on his beautiful face, he gazed up at the moon, a soft glow lighting on the drops of water left in his hair.

"Don't go," you whispered, the words leaving your lips in a small plea as you tightened your grip on his hand.

He looked over at you then, those golden brown eyes meeting yours with a mixture of curiosity and contemplation. For a moment he remained silent, his expression unreadable as he seemed to search your eyes for something, tilting his head.

Then his other arm breached the water, a gentle hand reaching out to hold your cheek in a tender embrace. He was so delicate that it almost brought tears to your eyes.

"Might they come back for you? Your crew?" Minho asked, his eyebrow cocking slightly as he pulled himself further up, his gaze searching yours for any hint of uncertainty.

"They won't," you sighed, shaking your head.

For a moment you were slightly shocked by the smile that graced Minho's lips, the warmth of his touch soothing as he stroked your face comfortingly.

"Then you will be mine," he murmured softly.

As the two of you gazed into each others eyes, you knew that you had subconsciously accepted your fate- that his intentions weren't all good, but you couldn't have brought your conscious self to care.

"Are you a merman?" you asked, the question that had been lingering at the edge of your thoughts finally escaping your lips.

You only needed confirmation. Then you'd give yourself to him.

Minho's expression softened at your question. "I am a siren," he replied.

"Are you going to kill me?"

His boba eyes swirled with something like sadness, you thought, his voice as steady as ever. "I want to help you, I can give you a new life, a second chance."

There was a glimmer of hope blooming deep within you as you heard his words. A second chance? A new life?

You knew that surrendering to him meant giving your life, stepping into the unknown- but you also knew that it had been a chance you were willing to take from the moment you locked eyes.

"How... What happens?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you braced yourself.

"You give away your human life, and you are reborn," he explained, his words carrying a weight of inevitability that sent a shiver down your spine, like he was telling you the future, not giving you a choice.

"As... a siren? Like you? With you?"

"Yes, like me, my love," Minho replied, his voice soft and reassuring as he moved his hand to your shoulder, the other gently tilting your chin towards him, drawing you closer until your lips were just inches apart.

"Now all you have to do is say it," Minho whispered, his breath mingling with yours as he leaned in impossibly closer. "Say you give your life to me."

You gulped, the weight of his words heavy yet somehow liberating. With a trembling breath, you opened your mouth slightly, the words tumbling out so quietly that if it weren't for his haunting smile, you wouldn't have even believed he heard them.

"I give my life to you."

With a romantic tenderness, Minho finally pressed his soft lips to yours, the kiss filled with so much longing and passion that it made your head spin. His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer, drawing you down to the water until your faces were submerged, your lips still locked.

You felt a sense of weightlessness, like he was sucking all the remnants of the bad emotions away, a feeling of freedom washing over you.

The boat teetered on the edge of capsizing, a 45 degree angle, the edge almost letting the ocean inside until he released you. The boat rocked upwards, sending you lurching to the other edge. Your instinct was to follow forward, to find him again in the embrace of the water, but before you could act, he popped up, his chest resting against the edge of the boat while his arms and head balanced on your side.

"Come closer," Minho commanded, his voice a mesmerizing authority that seemed to pull you in like the tide, compelling you to obey him without question.

As if you were in a trance, you did, drawn by the allure of his entire being.

It was like you had relinquished control to him entirely.

The siren held your face gently, his touch tender as his thumb traced over your lips, leaving a trail of warmth despite the cold in the air. Slowly, his hands descended, caressing your neck with a feather-light touch, his fingertips brushing over your shoulders and holding the collar of your shirt.

You melted into him, and played with the ends of his black hair as he slowly undid the buttons.

He ran his fingers over you in fascination, as if dry skin was so unknown to him, had never been explored. He traced the contours of your torso, his touch igniting sparks within you that you could barely contain. You shuffled closer to the edge.

Without warning, he leaned in for another deep kiss, his lips meeting yours with an urgency that mirrored your desire. This time he brought himself up, rising from the water to pull you closer.

His lips dipped lower, trailing a path of soft kisses along your neck and collarbones, each touch igniting a wave of pleasure that coursed through your body and lit your nerves alight. A sigh escaped you as you held the back of his head.

"M-Minho."

His tongue ran down your sternum, coursing off to the left where he traced your hardened nipple- sucking it between his plush lips as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled your chest against his face as much as he could.

Struggling to keep your vision unblurred, you blinked away the haziness that came with him lavashing you with kisses- focusing on the changing shadow of his lower body under the water instead.

"Oh, Minho!" you exclaimed, your eyes widening in astonishment as you noticed the absence of his fish tail, replaced now by two feet, unmistakably human.

There was no longer a creature of the sea hanging on your boat- no, a real man. Beautiful, enchanting, seductive, but a real man nonetheless.

As the realization dawned upon you, a surge of wonder and disbelief filled your heart.

"You've given your body to me," he murmured into you, his words a gentle tickle against your skin. "Allow me to repay the favour."

The siren- no, man, pulled himself up and climbed into your boat, his movements somehow still as graceful as ever as you gasped at the sight of him.

All of him.

You couldn't help the squeak of surprise that escaped your lips as he immediately surged forward to capture you once again in his embrace. Half of his weight pressed you down into the wooden planks beneath, the other half being held up by his strong arms as he gazed down at you from above.

For a moment, you layed there in stunned silence, nothing except the erratic beating of your heart disrupting the waves of desire emmanating from the both of you.

Something trickled down from the bottom of your stomach to in-between your legs as your wide eyes took in the sight of his toned body- muscles dripping with water, glistening in the moonlight. With every freezing drop that landed on you, goosebumps raised on your skin, jolting your nerves awake.

Your senses were electrified and reacting to every sensation like you had a blindfold on. The subtle smell of salt and cloudy sea foam invaded your mind, and you could taste it on him too as he licked the moans from the tip of your tongue.

"Will you let me show you my gratitude?" He asked, dipping down again to bring more small bruises to the surface of your skin, decorating your chest like it was a canvas.

"Y-Yes, of course I will."

He hummed approvingly, one hand dancing down your stomach until the plane of skin he was so thoroughly admiring gave way to a worn leather skirt. Minho's eyebrows furrowed.

"Then take this off."

You made quick work of his command, removing your belt and undoing the intricate buttons and zips until it lay underneath you, useless, letting him see the rest of your naked body. You wondered if he couldn't navigate it. Maybe he had been a siren for a very long time.

Happy that there were no more obstacles, he continued to trace his fingers down your skin- a teasing smile pulling at the corners of his mouth when you held your breath.

"Y/n," he spoke softly, the first time he had used your name.

And oh, did it sound so delicious in that velvety, enchanting voice.

You looked up, finding his twinkling brown eyes searching your face for your reactions. Minho's slender fingers felt between your folds, his eyebrows raising in subtle surprise.

"So wet, not like your skin."

You gulped, audibly releasing a shaky sigh.

The man wasted no time in pushing a slender finger inside you, the heel of his palm grinding against your embarrassingly already swollen clit- drawing out a long whine from your throat.

Would it be more embarrassing to admit you had been dripping for him since he showed himself to you?

"Beautiful," he cocked his head gently, not looking down- but still at your face and how it contorted as he started to slowly pump in and out of you. "I couldn't resist taking you- out here.. all alone."

He found and massaged that spongy spot inside of you immediately, licking his lips at how your back arched when he wiggled a second finger in.

"Perhaps you lured me in."

His thumb drew tight circles around your clit while his middle fingers thrusted into you quicker and quicker, his pace speeding up and slowing down sporadically until you gripped his arm- feeling the tendons in his wrist flex erotically.

"M-Minho," you moaned, your jaw falling slack, "oh god."

"Yes, my love?"

"I'm close."

The words fell from your lips in a tangled mess with your erratic breaths, chest stuttering up and down as your body tried to account for the feel of him unwinding the tightly strung knot in your abdomen.

"Let go."

Your bottom lip turned white where you bit it so tightly you feared you could draw blood, your shoulders heaving up and down- slightly scratching against the uncomfortable wooden bottom of the boat.

"Do as I say," he commanded, slightly lifting his chin. "Remember, you surrendered yourself to me."

Loud, unabashed moans tumbled from you as your hands grappled the mans biceps for stability, gushing all over his fingers, clenching and trying to close your legs- but he didn't let you.

His lips pressed chaste kisses down your neck after you bared it to him.

"Minho," you whispered, cupping his cheeks and pulling his head up to yours.

You were still catching your breath, but you sacrificed it to slot your lips together once more, fingers tangling in his hair. It was like you were drowning when he wasn't kissing you and you weren't touching him, the haze in your mind couldn't have spread any further, every synapse bent on letting him have you.

"I'm yours, take me."

The illusion of free will was well and truly shattered.

Every cell in your body, down to the very fibre of your being, ached for him. Something was wired different in your brain, you felt the changes, the buzzing in your veins.

"Please," you mumbled, pulling at his arms, his shoulders, his lower back- your legs wrapping around his waist. "Minho, please."

You couldn't have been any more desperate.

He hummed lowly with a knowing smile, lining himself up with your entrance, his eyes swirling with lust as he held your hips firmly to the bottom of the boat.

"Don't let go of me," he whispered.

You wouldn't dare.

His teeth closed around a patch of your neck when he slowly pushed in, drawing a whine from your lips.

"Oh, fuck."

"May I move?" Minho tilted his head, one hand coming up to caress your cheek.

"N-not yet," you shook your head, subconsciously clenching around him. "Sorry."

You breathed in and squeezed your eyes shut. Adjusting to his size was hard, he was big- despite the fact he was still dripping wet and you were dripping wet, the friction still burned. You had to take a moment to adjust to him splitting you open.

"Don't apologise."

The former siren's soft hand snaked down, gently rubbing your clit and listening to your gradually relaxing sighs while he helped you get used to being so full.

"Okay," you nodded, your shoulders rising as you braced yourself. "Move, you can move."

Minho fucked you slowly, passionately, so attentively. His strokes reached so deep inside of you that you couldn't keep quiet, he perfectly fit- like he was made for you. Almost too perfect, but you couldn't even fathom thinking about that when he was splitting you open so devotedly, dedicating his body to you, giving you everything.

He talked you through it all, calling you pretty names, saying you were doing so well for him, giving up your body- he said he was so grateful, babbling his thanks while your toes were curling and your back was arching.

"Still okay, pretty sailor?"

Your eyes were practically rolling back. You kept your promise, never daring to let you go as he reached your soul with every thrust, circling your clit with his thumb, making you lose your mind.

You were pretty sure you already had.

"Mm, can't speak?" He smiled, nudging your cheek with his nose, slipping his tongue into your mouth for a lazy kiss. "Is it too much y/n?"

Registering his words, you hiccuped out a no, shaking your head and clinging to him even harder. "No, pl-please, Min-"

"Shh, it's okay," he softly pressed his lips to your nose, cheeks, jaw. "Are you close now?"

You nodded frantically. He kept bullying into you slowly, not letting up for a second.

"Let go for me, okay? Give me another."

Like a spell, like your mind and body were under his command- you did exactly as you were told.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, pressing your arching body against him as you almost convulsed from the wave of pleasure he forced on you. Clenching around his cock, you moaned loudly right into his ear until he groaned himself, squeezing your flesh in his hands while he filled you with cum.

The two of you took a minute to catch up with your breathing. Minho let go of you, pressing his hands into the wood below to lift his weight off of you slightly, those sparkly eyes surveying your face.

You smiled up at him blissfully, and the corners of his mouth turned up at your reaction before he flopped down into the little space next to you.

He hummed the same melody that had captured your heart as he placed one hand on your chest, using his finger to trace the little bruises left over your skin while he propped your head up on his other arm.

As the two of you lay side by side in the little rowboat, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you.

A new life, huh?

You felt his hand playing with the ends of your hair while you stared up at the moon with him, silently drinking in the stars and the faint pretty colours that decorated the vast blackness. You felt like you were drifting away into bliss, until a little whisper spoken into your ear cut through the quiet.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice scarily apathetic.

Minho's arms snaked underneath you, lifting your body and throwing you overboard without warning- a surge of fear and almost betrayal quickly replacing the love and adoration you'd felt seconds before. Realisation dawned upon you like a bolt of lightning, the truth clearing your lusted mind, but it was already too late.

It had been too late to save yourself since the second you saw him.

With a scream, you fell into the cold ocean, the water enveloping you like cruel tendrils pulling you under, the curse transforming your once human legs into an eerily beautiful turquoise tail.

You had been warned about the sirens plenty of times, you knew that they weren't to be trusted, that their charm was fake, beauty a lie. Yet you still fell victim to Minho's allure, one you couldn't even imagine after taking a final look at his blank gaze.

Lock me in this dream.

Your illusion of him shattered as he cocked his head to the side, watching you disappear under the surface with no emotion in those twinkling brown eyes that you could've leapt into meer moments ago.

Don't let me go.

Now you were just another victim, just another siren cursed to roam the ocean depths in search of unsuspecting sailors to capture with your charm.

Our story was beautiful.

You sang your sorrows every day, your voice echoing through the depths of the water, each word a copy of the haunting lyrics that had ensnared you into Minho's grasp.

But now you're just a memory.

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