Lee Minho Romance - Tumblr Posts

Of Course, Professor (Drabble)

Pairing: Professor! Lee Know x Female Reader

Genre: Romantic. Smut. Fluff.

Summary: A spicy but sweet night at home.

Warnings: Explicit language and explicit depictions of sex.

WC: 950

A/N: I was originally going to end the main story with some 🌶️ but I changed my mind and never finished the scene. You all voted for spicy domestic fluff over raunchy, totally unethical office smut - which btw I'm proud af of you all lmaooo - so here it is.

“What are you working on?” Minho asks as he sits beside you on the couch with a pile of papers in his lap. 

You look up from your sketchbook and shrug, “I’m trying to sketch out some ideas, I’d like to put some original paintings in my classroom as decoration.” 

He looks over your shoulder onto the notebook in front of you, “I like all the different shapes in this one.” 

“I like it too,” you turn your head and peck his lips with yours, “I think I’m going to do it in really bright, bold colors. The kids will like it.” 

“They’ll love it,” he smiles, “Are you nervous for school to start?” 

“No,” you say sheepishly then chuckle, “but yes. It’s been a while since I was in a classroom, and when I was I was still a student, with a veteran teacher to correct my mistakes - being in a room alone, with no one there to fix it if I mess up is intimidating. Then again, it’s just art, how bad could I possibly fuck them up?” you laugh and Minho chuckles too. 

“It’s not just art,” he takes your sketchbook and starts flipping through, “To at least one of those children, it’s going to be the most important class they ever take. Years - decades - from now they’ll remember what they learned from the teacher who taught them that their art mattered, that it was important. They’ll think of you every time they pick up a brush, or pencil and I can’t think of a more perfect person for the job.” 

You stare at him, a soft smile playing at your lips.

“What?” he grins back, “Is there something on my face?” 

You shake your head and crawl over him, pushing his paperwork to the side, your legs straddling his lap and you take his face in your hands. 

“I just can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t know how sweet and soft you were,” you tell him, pressing your lips against his. 

“Mmm,” he moans into your mouth, “I am not.” 

“You are.” 

He tosses you over onto your back and you giggle, “And I can’t believe you ever thought you were going to be a lawyer,” he clicks his teeth and sorts his papers back in order, shaking them at you, “No discipline at all. Your classes don’t begin until August, but some of us are teaching Summer classes and Sunday is my day to grade…”

As he lectures you, you slide your shorts and underwear off. When he looks back his eyes go dark as you allow your knees to gently fall apart. 

He makes a raspy sound in his throat as his eyes narrow, “No fucking discipline…” he mutters, tossing the papers on the coffee table. 

“Then teach me some, Professor,” you bite your lip. 

He chuckles as he pulls his shirt over his head, “A pointless endeavor. I spoil you is what I do,” he grins, situating himself between your legs. He begins kissing the inside of your thighs, the cool air hitting your center tells you you’re already soaked. 

He dips a finger into your cunt and twists, your hips come off the couch and you sigh. He continues to pump you while his tongue paints swirls of pleasure over every centimeter of your pussy. He’s so fucking good. You find yourself burying your fingers in his hair, latching him onto you as you move your hips with his mouth as the pleasure builds. Every time he eats you out you try to hold it, to stop yourself from coming just to bask in how good his tongue feels on you, but maybe he’s right - you have no discipline. You spread your legs as far as they go and stiffen, your orgasm hitting you in rhythmic waves. 

“More,” you manage to squeak out. 

“Spoiled,” he whispers back, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm as he pulls the rest of his clothes off and resumes his place between your legs. 

He grabs your hands and holds them in place above your head, his lips come down on one of your nipples and he gently sucks and licks wide languid strokes over the sensitive bud. You squirm beneath him, needing to feel him inside you. Finally he relents, and removes his mouth from your breast, still stiffly holding your hands while he pushes into you. 

He pauses for a moment, even all these months later both of you still need a second to adapt to him deep inside you. It’s more than a physical connection of body parts, it feels incendiary, it feels right - it feels like love. 

You wrap your legs around his hips so he can go as deep as he needs to, his open mouth against your neck spilling rapid breaths and dirty, sexy secrets. You know he’s close, so you lift your hips slightly because you’re so in tune with him that you know it will hit just right, know it will push you over the edge too and he needs it. 

When the coil all wound up inside you springs, you spasm around him and he moans, freezing all movement except for the throbbing of his cock spilling inside you. He remains on top of you for several moments, letting his breath return to normal. He lets go of your fists and slides his palm over yours, lacing your fingers together as he plants kisses along your cheek and jawline, his cock softening inside your body. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your temple, eyes closed. 

You use your free hand to wipe his sweaty bangs from his face, you kiss his nose and lips, “I love you too Minho.” 

THE END

Endnotes:

Thank you for reading, and here's your virtual smooooooch 😘

My Sluts for Minho tag list / people who asked to be tagged in pt 2: @katieraven , @linocz , @screamobubbles , @hpnsfwaddict , @simpforleeknaur also @moni-logues (so she doesn’t send me threatening discord messages 😂) …If I missed you somehow I’m sorry, I’ve got zero organization methods when approaching tag lists and relied on re-reading the replies on the main fic to remember who asked, so if you asked a different way it probably got lost in my brain 🙃

Safe. (Part Three)

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem. Reader x Lee Minho

Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous. 

Warnings: Explicit language. Explicit depictions of sex (some chapters will be more explicit than others sexually). Violence. Blood. Trauma injuries. (Organized) Crime. Emotional manipulation. Discussion of murder and physical assault. Medical inaccuracy galore. Smoking. Past addiction. 18+ Only.

Chapter WC: 5.5k

Read Part One and Part Two here.

~ PART THREE ~

“Okay, let’s look at the options,” Christopher starts hanging dress bags around the room. “I think this red would look really great with-,”

“No,” you say quickly. You would rather give blood until you pass out than play dress up for a night out that you’re dreading. 

“Oh-kay,” he blinks, then goes over to unzip the next bag, “This one is a lavender number, and I know it’s not Spring, but hear me out-,”

“No.” 

Christopher looks like his eye is about to start twitching and his lips move into a tight line, “Did you maybe have something in mind?” 

“Is there a black option?” you ask. Black feels appropriate. 

“Black option,” he claps his hands together and looks around at his bags, “Of course there’s a black option, there’s always a black option.” He runs across the room and unzips another bag, pulling out the skirt of a black satin gown with a slit that makes you blush from where you sit but you said black - and if you refuse this one, Chris might actually strangle you with the straps of a high heel. 

When you emerge from the closet Christophers eyes widen, “Holy shit,” he says. 

“Don’t start,” you roll your eyes, then turn to look at yourself in the full length mirror. You do have to admit that it fits perfectly, it looks as if it was custom made just for you. The slit in the front is dangerously high, and the neckline is dangerously low - it’s a dangerous dress, you think. Which feels even more appropriate for the evening, you want to be dangerous. 

“You look…phenomenal actually,” Chris smiles.

“Thanks,” you blush. 

“I don’t do hair and makeup, but Jisoo will be here around 5pm to doll you up, she works at the salon Minhos wife used to own, she’s very good,” Christopher says, lining up some shoe options. 

Your eyes widen and the very breath in your lungs seems to deflate, “Minho has a wife?”

Chris pauses for a moment and looks around the room as if you aren’t completely alone in the house. “He used to, she died - she was killed by one of Kims men when she was out visiting a friend. They saw the SUV and thought it was Minho.” 

“Fuck,” you cover your mouth with your hand, “I didn’t know that.” 

“Well you wouldn’t, it happened three years ago, and he never talks about it anymore. He was a complete mess for a long time, barely spoke, didn’t seem to give a fuck about the job anymore, none of us were sure if he was ever going to come around, a lot of the guards left and ran off to Kim of all fucking people. The ones who stayed were well rewarded when he finally started to put himself back together, but he doesn’t talk about it, he’s never been the same,” he shares. 

Could that be why he reacted to your rejection the way he did? Is there actually some vulnerable piece inside him that hurts? You think about this long after Christopher is gone, and while Jisoo the stranger does your hair and makeup. You try to laugh at her jokes, carry on a normal conversation with the first female you’ve interacted with in months, but still, you can’t stop yourself from picturing a grieving Minho, his heart slowly turning to cold stone, uncaring - and for the first time since you’ve known him, you feel sorry for him, and you care about him. 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

From inside the car that’s dropping you off you see Minho, Seungmin and Hyunjin waiting in front of the Casino for you. Your stomach drops, and a mixture of excitement and dread overwhelm you. 

The car stops and Minho opens the door and offers you his hand as you get out, you try to keep it still so no one sees how shaky and nervous you are. 

“My God,” he looks you up and down, “You are stunning,” Minho traces your jawline with the tip of his finger. 

You shake your head, “Chris brought really beautiful dresses and Jisoo-,” 

“Nuh-uh,” Minho argues, “This is all you love, and you look amazing,” he smiles and offers you his arm. You take it, briefly making eye contact with Hyunjin, who isn’t even trying to hide the fact he’s staring at you. You clear your throat and brush imaginary wrinkles out of the satin. 

“You look pretty,” Seungmin says, looking anywhere but at you. 

Your eyes widen, “Sorry…is there an insult coming or did you actually just compliment me?” 

Seungmins eyes narrow, “Don’t push it…shut up,” he sneers before hurriedly skulking off into the casino. 

You’ve seen Minho’s Mirroh Casino lit up like a Christmas Tree towering over buildings on the edge of downtown for years - though you had no idea it belonged to him of course until you met him several months ago. You’d never stepped foot inside, in your previous life you didn’t really have the time nor the money to be spending evenings in a high end Casino. Then, after you started working for him, your nights were spent bandaging wounds, taking inventory of items, and anticipating the next injury - the thought of going out so far from your mind that it never even occurred to you. 

You keep mostly quiet as Minho walks you around, introducing you to people you’ve never seen, will probably never see again. You alternate between being awestruck at the extravagance of the place, politely making conversation with him and his associates, and pretending like you aren’t thinking about his tragically dead wife. You wish you could ask him if he’s okay, give him a hug - just do something. 

“Can you find something to keep yourself occupied, love? I need to have a private conversation with Mr. Jung for a few moments, play anything you’d like, I have you covered Kitten,” he rubs a gentle circle on your back and kisses your temple before departing towards a set of stairs. 

You’re not a gambler, and you’re about as skilled at Casino games as you are with open heart surgery. Which is to say, not at all. You stand in the middle of the giant space trying to decide, but probably just looking like an idiot. 

“You look lost,” Hyunjins voice comes up behind and you and you spin around, happy to have someone to talk to so you don’t look so clueless. 

“This isn’t really my scene,” you chuckle, fidgeting with your hands. 

“I didn’t want to comment on it before, but, when you got out of that car you took my breath away,” he smiles, “I’ve never seen someone look so beautiful,” he whispers. 

You look at him, “Be careful, I’ve been glued to Minho all night and I don’t need anyone in here reporting to him that the second his back is turned I’m falling all over you,” you warn him. 

“You’re probably right, but I’ve got a slew of new ideas for sketches, this dress should be illegal,” he grins. 

“Hyunjin,” your voice is a warning, you lower your voice, “I’ve been thinking about what happened the other night, the kiss,” you say quietly. 

“And?” 

“I feel safe with you,” you tell him honestly, “you’re the first person I’ve come across since starting all this that I’m not afraid of, that makes me smile, when you walk into view all my tension relaxes, and I know as long as you’re there everything will be okay. That’s how you make me feel. All I want is for you to wrap your arms around me and hold me and just exist in that feeling.”  

“Why do I feel a but coming?” he sighs, pretending to be interested in a coin machine. 

“But…I can’t just waltz up to Minho and tell him I can’t be his plus one, and that I can’t continue,” you scoff, trying to think of a word that described your relationship, “Can’t continue whatever the fuck he and I are doing, because I have feelings for you. Can you imagine how that will turn out?” 

“I get that,” Hyunjin nods, “but I want you to know that I care about you deeply, I’m enamored with you, I think about you all the time, and I’m fine just being grateful for every second alone I might get with you. I don’t care if I have to keep it to myself, I keep so much shit a secret that it’s just my normal state of mind at this point, I can keep you a secret.” 

You stare at him, wishing you could throw your arms around him and kiss him, thank him for being such a light in the shadows for you, and apologize for taking so long to see him, and for not being able to take his hand in yours this very moment. 

“Blackjack,” he says, nodding over to a nearby table. 

“Pardon?” 

“Go play blackjack, it’s easy, and even if you bust every time Minho will take care of it. It’ll give you something to do, I’ve got to get back to my post, but I didn’t want the night to go by without me telling you how beautiful you look, or how I feel,” he smiles, “Have fun tonight, beautiful.” 

You watch him go before deciding to take his advice and sit down at the Blackjack table. 

To your utter shock you win four games in a row, and you find that you actually might be having a good time. 

“Evening,” a deep voice greets as a tall man takes a seat beside you. 

“Good evening,” you respond. 

“Good fortune at this table I hope? ‘Cause I’ve been getting slammed,” he jokes and you smile. 

“So far so good,” you laugh, “but I’m sure my luck is overdue to run out any minute.” 

“Ah, that’s the thing about luck, it’s fleeting,” he says seriously, his tone makes you uncomfortable. “Especially when you’re friends with Lee Minho,” he adds in a lower cadence. 

At this you look at him out of the corner of your eye but say nothing, you’ll play out the hand then leave. 

“I will say that it’s nice to see him out and about with someone, we all figured he’d get tired of the blowjobs from Han Jisungs adorable little mouth at some point,” he chuckles darkly, and you nearly gasp at his audacity. “I have to say, you’re an absolute vision, how much is he paying you for the evening?” 

“I’m not being paid to be here you asshole,” you spit, “and you are playing a very dangerous game,” you warn. When the dealer flips her cards you’ve lost, and you get up from the table. 

“Sit down, ___, we’re just having a chat,” he motions you with his fingers and something in his voice sounds so incredibly dangerous that you’re afraid to defy him. 

“How do you know my name?”

“I know everything about everyone,” the man grins, lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke in your face, you fan it away and look at your cards, “I know your name. I know that until four months ago you were working your ass off at the Anam Hospital until you found Lee bleeding in the parking lot, refusing to go into the emergency room, and you broke every rule in your precious book while you stole medical supplies and treated him in a van in the lot.” 

“Then I guess you already knew I wasn’t a paid escort, so either you’re just a fucking loser trying to insult me or you got a point to make with all this precious info - so make it,” you bite back. 

The man chuckles and takes another puff, “I like you. Know why? You got a mouth on you, despite being so fucking scared all the time - don’t deny it,” he shoots you a look when you start to argue, “You’re scared to death of what your life has become, I can smell the fear on you, but that mouth of yours doesn’t know when to quit huh?” 

“Must be the nurse in me,” you spit, “Do you want something? You got a rash or a burning sensation you need treated? Otherwise I’d like to go do literally anything else than sit here next to you.” 

“Don’t worry, I need to get back to my own date over there,” he points and you follow the line to see a pretty woman staring at him from across the room looking like she wants to leave, same, you think. 

“Then go,” you tell him. 

“I just want to know one thing,” he asks, throwing his cards down as he stands up, “Do you love each other?

“What?”

“You heard me.” 

“What do you care?” you demand instead of answering the ridiculous question. 

He smiles and snubs his cigarette out, “So that’s a no,” he laughs, “Good. I won’t feel so bad then,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering off with a shit eating grin. 

“Who are you?” 

The man just laughs and without looking back says, “I’ll be seeing you.” 

You watch as he approaches his pretty date and kisses her, then leads her toward the exit. You have zero time to think about the insane conversation before you feel someone's hand come down on your arm. 

“Get up,” Hyunjins voice is low and nervous.

“Oh - okay? What-,” 

“You were just speaking to Kim fucking Taehyung,” Hyunjin spits. 

“That was him? Oh shit…I didn’t know, Hyunjin I didn’t…” 

“Did you tell him anything that he can use against us?” Hyunjin asks urgently. 

“No! I barely said anything, he was just an asshole, I didn’t say anything!” 

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Hyunjin shakes his head. 

“Is Minho angry with me?” you’re scared again, and Kim Taehyungs voice echoes in your head - can everyone smell how scared you are all the time? 

“I don’t know,” Hyunjin stops you in front of two giant mahogany doors that presumably lead into Minhos private office. “Go on. It’ll all be okay.” 

You slide through the door Hyunjin opens for you and feel it shut with a heavy thud. Minho is alone, pouring two drinks and bringing them over to a lavish sitting area. You stay frozen to the spot, unsure of what’s to come. 

“Well, sit down,” he gestures to the sofa and you slowly make your way over, gently setting yourself on the cushion, unable to find any comfortable position. 

Minho hands you one of the glasses of amber liquid and you’re happy to have something to do with your hands.

“Hyunjin told you who you were just speaking with?” he asks, sipping his own glass.

You nod, “He said it was Kim Taehyung, but Minho you must believe me when I tell you that I had no idea who that man was, and all he did was insult me, insult you, then walk away, I told him nothing.” 

“I know,” he shrugs. “You don’t think I have microphones at every table in this building?” 

“So…you’re not upset with me?” your voice sounds so small in the gigantic space. 

Minho’s face scrunches up, “I really fucked with your head the other day, didn’t I?” he sighs, “No, ___, I’m not upset with you.” 

You visibly relax with relief and take a long sip of scotch, though typically you can’t stand the stuff. 

“Kim Taehyung and I have an exceptionally brutal, bloody history,” Minho explains, and you remember Christophers story about his wife being killed by Kims men. “We go through wanes and waxes of feuds, the fact that he had the audacity to walk into my Casino tonight tells me we’re about to march into another period of fighting for territory in the city, but I’m no longer interested in trying to negotiate or spill the blood of our guys - this time I’m going to kill him, or be killed, but I swear to God, it will end with one of us dead,” he says so coldly, so resolutely that it sends chills down your spine. 

“Minho…” you say his name, a sadness on it that you can’t quite explain. 

He looks at you from over his glass, that dark, wild danger seeping from somewhere deep in his eyes. It’s terrifying, but it’s also intoxicating. You don’t know what you’re doing, but you find yourself scooting across the couch, capturing the side of his face with your palm. You kind of hate that it makes you happy when he seems to melt into your hand. 

He sets his glass down and pulls you onto him, his lips coming down on yours, hands tightly gripping your hips. 

“Have I told you how delectable you look tonight?” he whispers, bunching the fabric of your dress up until you’re exposed from the waist down. 

“You might have,” you smile at him, brushing your fingers through his dark hair, giving the ends a little tug. 

He groans then lifts you up momentarily before dropping you roughly onto your back on the sofa. You watch as he towers over you, loosening his tie with one hand and downing the rest of his drink with the other before tossing the glass to some unseen place. 

“Good enough to eat,” he licks his lips and stares down at you in a way that sets your whole body ablaze. You bite down on the inside of your cheek as you watch him lower his mouth between your legs. He doesn’t waste time teasing or playing, he just moves the ridiculous, pointless thong you wore to the side and wraps his lips around your clit. 

You gasp, your fingers flying to his hair. You pant and try to stay quiet as he sucks and licks, the thought of a Casino full of people below seems to only fuel how hot the situation is. 

“Please…Minho…” 

“Want me to stop Kitten?” he smiles, wiping the wetness from his lips and chin. 

“No,” you shake your head back and forth frantically, your eyes darting down to the hardness bulging behind his pants. You slip your fingers under your underwear and pull, he helps you remove them easily. 

“My girl gets whatever she wants,” he chuckles darkly, removing his belt and unzipping his fly, shimmying his pants and boxers down his thighs. He hitches your thigh around his hips and lowers himself, teasing your clit with the head of his cock. 

“Mmm,” you whine, screwing your eyes shut, fresh manicure pawing at his hips to bring him closer, “please.” 

With that, he pushes into you deep and hard and you gasp, your back arching off the sofa as his hips thrust, snapping against the back of your thighs. He grabs your hands and pins them over your head, fucking into you like it’s going to fix every problem he’s ever had. You try to meet his thrusts with your hips, lifting yourself off the couch just so, and it ends up hitting the most delicious spot, you can’t stop your eyes from nearly rolling back into your brain. 

“Oh fuck,” you groan, “oh fuck, keep going, right there…fuck.” 

“You’re so fucking perfect, my perfect little slut,” he grunts, unpinning your hands. He slides his fingers gently around your throat, not squeezing but anchoring you down while he drives his cock into you like you asked. You can feel the whitehot pull in the pit of your abdomen, you dig your nails into his arms and he moans from deep within, he stills himself and spills into you just as you reach your own climax. 

He continues to pump in and out of you slowly, your eyes meet briefly and he’s about to say something when the door to his office opens. 

“Sir, Mr. Park has the intel-,” Hyunjins voice stops abruptly and you flinch, “Shit. I’m sorry,” he says and you don’t have to see his face to hear the surprise in his voice, surprise laced with hurt. 

“It’s fine,” Minho stands and pulls his pants back up while you lay motionless in front of him, out of Hyunjins line of sight, “Tell Park to give me five minutes, and arrange for ___s car to be pulled around please.” 

“Yes sir.” 

You sit up when you hear the door close, grab your panties off the floor and slide them back on. This was one hundred percent you, and you’re torn between feeling disgusted with yourself, and also wanting to ask Minho to come home with you. What has gotten into you? 

“I’ll come over tomorrow,” Minho says, and you wonder if he can sense your desire to not part ways just yet. 

“Okay,” you stand, voice quiet and legs still wobbly. 

“I don’t really let people in,” he says, “I don’t really want to, it’s not worth caring about people when you stand to lose them, but you’re making it very hard for me ___.” 

You’ve no idea what to say to that. The door opens again, and you brace yourself to look Hyunjin in the eyes right after he caught you fucking Minho after bearing his soul to you, but this time it’s Seungmin peeking his head in, “Car’s ready sir.” 

“Go on,” Minho nods to the door, “Get home safe.” 

You nod and turn on your heels, Seungmin silently escorts you down to the car, opens the door for you and shuts it, all without a word, thankfully. You don’t see Hyunjin again, and for that you’re also thankful, though you wager that it’s intentional on his part. 

You ride home, watching lights blur together as you get lost in your own thoughts. You don’t think about Minho or Hyunjin, you push those away violently. Instead you think of inventory, think of stitches, practice them in your head, and think of how you miss the hospital. How you miss the fact that between rounds, white boards, charting, and drama you never had a spare second to get lost in bad thoughts, guilty thoughts. At one point you’d have traded it for just about anything, but now you crave it. You want your old life back. Though you think it’s probably too late for that. 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

You’ve just gotten out of the shower and tucked yourself into bed when you hear the pounding on the door. You look at your phone - no missed calls or texts. The pounding continues and you push the blankets off of you, wrap a robe around you, grab your phone and make your way downstairs. 

You bet it’s Hyunjin, coming to tell you that he was wrong, that he never wants to see you or speak to you or even draw you on paper ever again. You almost open the door, but then Minhos voice in your head stops you. 

If anyone ever comes knocking and they haven’t called first, tell them they have to give you the password before you unlock the door. Hellevator. If they can’t produce that specific word then don’t you dare open the door, and call me immediately. 

Your hand freezes on the handle, “Give me the password!” you yell through the door, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest harder with every passing second of no answer. You unlock the phone in your hand and start to find the only contact you have saved in it. 

Suddenly one of the metal chairs on the front porch comes crashing through the window. You scream, running towards the kitchen for a knife. When you dare to look back you see three men closing in on you,  masks on their face, it’s the most terrifying image you’ve ever experienced. Like something out of a nightmare.  

Foolishly you point the knife at them, but the nearest man seems unimpressed as he forcefully smacks it out of your hand. 

“No, no!” you scream and try to run, but it seems like all you do is run straight into another mans chest, he turns you around, holding your hands painfully behind your back. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” you cry, throat searing with pain from the sheer volume of your voice. 

“Shut her up!” 

A thick, meaty fist comes down hard against the side of your jaw, you feel the inside of your cheek fill with blood almost instantly and you wonder if a tooth has been knocked out. Before you can process that, a hand comes down on your shoulder to hold you still against the man behind you, and the same meaty fist against your jaw comes down directly into your gut, knocking the wind out of you. Your knees buckle and the man from behind releases you, so you fall to the floor with a  hard smack. 

The men take turns kicking you in the back, the chest, the legs. The pain is so severe you black out every few seconds, only to come back to consciousness for another kick. 

You’re not sure how long they do this. It could be minutes or hours, but finally they seem to stop. One of them bends down, grabs you by the hair and pulls your face off the floor. 

“Tell your boyfriend Mr. Kim is waiting for his next move,” he laughs, then shoves your face into the floor violently, you can feel the blood seeping from your nostrils now. 

You lay there, you can see their boots moving towards the door, shuffling out. The digital clock on the entry table says it’s just after midnight. You lay your head back down on the floor and close your eyes. When you open them back up it’s almost two in the morning. The house is dark, but you see the reflection of the refrigerator light glinting off your phone a few feet away. You lay your hands flat against the hardwood and try to drag yourself. Everything hurts, it hurts so bad, and you have no idea how bad the damage could be. You could be bleeding out internally for all you know. You try again, this time you move your legs just a little for momentum. It takes several tries before you move more than just wiggling your body. 

Finally you make it to the phone, you unlock it, still on Minhos contact. You hit the call button and listen to the ringing echo in your ear. 

“Hello?” he answers and you start crying into the phone in painful sobs. 

“___? What’s wrong?” 

“Help,” you manage to gasp into the phone between screams and sobs, the taste of salty, bloody spit covering your tongue, your lips. 

“I’m coming baby, hold on.” 

Then everything goes dark again. 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

You hear the voices first, though everything sounds like it’s underwater. It’s when you feel the hands on you that you shoot up, screaming, flailing, begging them to stop. 

“__!! It’s me! It’s Hyunjin, sweetheart please!” 

“Give her a bit of space.” 

“God, they really fucked her up.” 

“What should we do?” 

All voices seem to be coming from different people, or they could be coming from the same person, you don’t know. You don’t care. 

“__, open your eyes, it’s alright, you’re safe now.” 

Safe. The very concept feels so far away right now that you actually laugh. You slowly open your eyes and wince at the bright light. Minho kneels before you, an indescribable expression on his face. Concern? Anger? Horror? You aren’t sure. You can feel your back propped up against someone, Hyunjin, you can smell his cologne. Seungmin and Changbin stand off in the background, hands in their pockets, looking at you like…well, like you’ve had the shit kicked out of you. 

“Can you stand darling?” Minho extends his hand to you, but you won’t touch it. 

You shake your head, the simple act a painful one, “You need to take me to a hospital,” you moan, “I need to get checked out, everything hurts so bad,” you sniff. You feel the tears spill down your face, hot and searing against your sore skin. Even crying hurts. 

“I’ll take you, come on,” Hyunjin says from behind. 

“You can’t go to any hospital,” Seungmin reminds him. “Especially with her all fucked up like this? They’ll throw down every red flag they can.” 

“He’s right,” Minho nods. 

“I don’t give a shit!” Hyunjin yells and it makes your ears ring, “What are they going to do? I don’t even have so much as a fucking parking ticket to my name, detain me? Big fucking deal!” 

“They’ll detain you, and as soon as Kims cops get word you’re in there, the only way you’ll come out is in a body bag,” Minho explains. 

The mention of the Kim name floods your thoughts with the deep, guttural words of the men who did this to you. 

“He said…” your lip shakes and you can’t get the words out. Minho kneels back down and grabs your hands with his. “They said to tell my boyfriend Mr. Kim is waiting for your next move.” 

Minhos jaw clenches, though you suspect he knew Kim was behind it regardless of the message. He stands back up and drags his hand down his face, “Seungmin, call Chris. He won’t be on anyone’s radar anywhere, he can escort her to the hospital. Changbin, call Felix and ask him to take the others to the new safehouse and get it set up for her, this one’s dead, no one comes back here.” 

Changbin pulls his phone out and leaves the room. Hyunjin continues to hold you on the floor, rocking you gently in his arms. 

“Even if Chris isn’t on any radars, they’re still going to know what happened to her,” Seungmin nods towards where you sit on the floor. 

“They can tell the staff she fell down the stairs,” Hyunjin suggests but to your surprise both you and Seungmin scoff at this. 

“They never believe that shit,” you say quietly. “I’ll tell them I got mugged walking home, Chris was a good samaritan that found me and brought me in, he can go wait in the car until I’m ready to be discharged, but I have to make sure nothing is bleeding internally, those bastards had to be wearing steel toed boots,” you groan, clutching your stomach. 

Seungmin nods with a sad smile and walks off to make the call. 

“We can’t let this go unpunished,” Hyunjin growls from behind you. 

“And we won’t,” Minho looks down at him with a lethal visage. 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

“What did they say?” Christopher asks as you struggle sliding into the passenger seat. 

“I’m not dying,” you pant, resting your head against the back of the seat. “Three cracked ribs, lots of deep bruising, a few lacerations but nothing that can’t be fixed with some pain killers and ice packs.” 

“Good,” he nods, “Minho and Hyunjin have been calling nonstop, do you want to call them back?” 

You shake your head, “No.” 

“Works for me,” he shrugs, “Did the hospital ask any questions?” 

“Obviously,” you scoff, “but I told them the same thing we said when we got there. You found me mugged, that’s why I didn’t have my ID or anything on me, I didn’t get to see who did it but he was wearing a mask and heavy black boots. They asked the police to come in and I gave them my statement but you and I both know they won’t look very hard. Eighty percent of the cops in this town are crooked, they probably already know who did this anyway. I doubt I’ll hear from them, especially since the address I gave them I won’t ever go back to again.” 

“Yeah,” Chris shakes his head, “I’m sorry sweetie, this all just…really fucking sucks for you. The new house is gorgeous though, if it’s any consolation, I think you’ll like it.” 

“I’m sure it’s nice,” you say, staring out the window, “but I won’t be staying long.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m out, and I know I shouldn’t be telling you this but I really don’t give a shit. I’m done. I’m not sticking around to wait for those…monsters to come back and finish me off, or get gunned down on my way to the fucking grocery store. No. I am out.” 

Chris reaches over and takes your hand in his with a gentle squeeze, “I hear what you’re saying, and I hope that you get what you want, but honey - and I say this with all the love - don’t hold your breath.”

Endnotes:

Endnotes:

Taglist: @katieraven @linocz @screamobubbles @hpnsfwaddict @simpforleeknaur @the-sweetest-rosie @hyunjinhoexxx @aeri-skzver @mbioooo0000 @seungminindabuilding @moni-logues @shioriyametho @jamlessstars @tirena1 @bswrldd @chartrucewhore @yaorzu-blog all for wanting to be tagged!! I appreciate you <3 If your name is in bold I still can't tag you for some reason, so I apologize!!

As per usual, if you've made it this far, here is your virtual smooch! Thank you for reading <3