Warnings: strangers-to-enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, blood, explicit(?) but no actual smut, mentions of sex, fluff
Word count: approximately 4k
Note from author: inspired by “CINEMA” music video and kdrama “Happiness”. Enjoy!!!🤍
“What was that?” you asked, straightening your back slightly and glancing around. The chilly air of the underground parking lot slipped under your jacket, making you shiver unpleasantly, but you paid no attention to the goosebumps on your arms. Your gaze was drawn into the darkness of the tunnel, where the lamps had long since burned out.
Seungmin tightened his grip on the baseball bat with his gloved hand, giving a slight shrug of his shoulders, and looked in the same direction as you.
“Let’s just go,” he exhaled, and you noticed the tension radiating from his lean figure.
Pressing your lips together and adjusting the strap of the backpack full of supplies you had stolen — though it hardly felt like stealing — from an abandoned store near your apartment complex, you followed Seungmin.
Glancing at his slightly tired face, you couldn’t help but note to yourself that you needed to trim his hair again; it was already starting to fall awkwardly onto his forehead and tickle his eyelashes. Last time, he’d been skeptical about your offer to help, but it had turned out pretty well — and he hadn’t complained.
He pressed the elevator button and stepped back slightly, closer to you, while glancing around cautiously. You closed your eyes for a second, hearing the distant, sickening howl of the infected echoing through the parking lot.
“Come on, come on,” you whispered nervously, biting your lip and watching the panel, counting the floors. Seungmin turned, peering into the dark tunnel. He looked focused, but you knew both of you were already exhausted from the day’s encounter with the infected, and one more fight — especially with no real way to escape — could be the end of you both.
Finally, in the suffocating silence, the loud, blessed sound of the elevator arriving and its doors sliding open echoed through the garage. Almost immediately, zombies responded from the tunnel, and the pounding of their feet reached your ears.
You grabbed Seungmin’s hand and yanked him into the elevator, frantically jabbing the door close button. Your breath caught in your throat as you glimpsed the rotting figures emerging into the light, sprinting toward you. They were still far, but you gripped Seungmin’s gloved hand tightly, and he squeezed back just as hard.
The doors closed, and the elevator began to rise, leaving the screams and howls behind. After two more floors, you finally exhaled, letting go of his hand and leaning against the wall.
“I thought we were dead,” Seungmin said, and you answered with a soft, nervous laugh — adrenaline still racing through your veins, keeping you from fully relaxing.
“Me too.”
He stood beside you, and you watched the numbers change in silence until the elevator stopped at the eighth floor. Thankfully, today you hadn’t run into any other residents — people you didn’t like one bit, who always bickered during the monthly meetings, constantly showing off and pretending to be something they weren’t. You could never trust them — not like you trusted Seungmin.
It was strange, really. You had hated each other once, just neighbors constantly at odds since day one when you asked him to turn down his music and he refused, saying he was rehearsing. Who would’ve thought that one day people would go mad with a contagious disease, turning into monsters that hunted the living? And who would’ve thought that you and Seungmin would choose to live together for safety, that his music would no longer irritate you, and that his presence would bring peace instead of anger?
Just like now, as he let you step out of the elevator first, his hand briefly touching your lower back as he walked beside you to your apartment. He stopped by the door, entering the code into the lock while you glanced up at the familiar number: 143.
As usual, he held the door open for you. You kicked off your sneakers in the hallway before walking further inside while he locked up, mirroring your actions and shedding his gloves, resting the baseball bat against the wall. You remembered how he used to love playing baseball with his friends on weekends.
Now, he didn’t even know if they were still alive — communication was completely cut off, and the radio only repeated the same grim news about the growing number of infected and empty promises from politicians to save the survivors. But help never came. Weeks blurred into months, and hope was slowly bleeding away.
Neither of you knew if your families were still alive, but there was nothing you could do except wait and only venture outside when absolutely necessary.
And that waiting — in total uncertainty — was slowly eating you alive. You didn’t talk about it, but you didn’t need to; it was clear in Seungmin’s empty gaze, in your own nightly nightmares, in the exhaustion and dark circles under your eyes, and even in the slight weight loss from rationing food.
You headed to the kitchen, dropping your bag onto the floor and leaning against the table, hearing Seungmin’s quiet footsteps behind you.
“How are you?” he asked casually.
“I’m fine,” you answered after a brief pause. “And you?”
“I’ll live,” he shrugged, bending down next to the bag and beginning to pull out the contents. Feeling your gaze, he added, “It’s my turn to make dinner tonight. Go take a shower.”
You frowned.
“Is it?” you said, glancing toward the small chore schedule pinned on the wall — but he stood up and easily took your hand, turning you to face him.
“Just go.”
You stared at each other: his dark eyes, usually filled with teasing mischief, now uncharacteristically soft.
“Alright,” you said finally, pressing your lips together. He hesitated just a second longer than necessary before letting go of your wrist, and you exhaled quietly.
You stayed under the hot water until your skin turned red and the mirror fogged up. Drying off, you pulled on a familiar jumper over your T-shirt and soft pajama pants before returning to the kitchen. Seungmin had taken off his jacket, remaining in a shirt and jeans with, standing with his back to you, stirring something in the pot. Your heart skipped at the sight of his broad shoulders, and for a wild moment, you wanted to walk over and hug him, feeling like he could protect you from anything — even if the sky fell.
But you didn’t. Instead, you stood beside him, glancing at the pleasant-smelling kimchi jjigae.
“Go and shower. I’ll finish up here,” you said, reaching for the spatula.
He gave you a small, amused smile, meeting your gaze.
“You won’t mess it up?”
You rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully with your elbow, making him fake a pout.
“How cruel.”
You laughed, shoving him lightly again as he dodged, smiling as well.
“I’ll just eat it all myself,” you warned.
He tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, and your eyes widened slightly, not fully processing what had just happened.
“Liar.”
And with that, he disappeared down the hall. A moment later, you heard the bathroom door close.
“Idiot,” you muttered under your breath, stirring the stew and ignoring the growing warmth in your cheeks.
***
Days went by, but help never arrived. Going outside was tantamount to suicide, as the number of zombies had increased dramatically. The last time, you and Seungmin barely managed to escape.
The balcony door was slightly ajar, letting in a gentle summer breeze that swayed the curtains. You were folding freshly washed bed linens into neat piles, occasionally stopping to lift a glass of water to your lips.
Seungmin was resting on the couch nearby after washing the dishes. You had chosen his apartment to live in because it was much larger than yours, and now you shared household duties between the two of you. This week, you were handling the laundry, while he took care of the dishes.
His eyes were closed, and his face was relaxed. He had fallen asleep, forgetting to take off his glasses. His hair no longer fell into his face, as you had given him a haircut last weekend. Before Seungmin, you had never helped anyone with this, but each time it got better. The corner of your lips curled up at the memory of him sitting in the bathroom chair in front of the mirror while you flitted around him with scissors. He occasionally made jokes, but mostly sat still, gazing at you in the mirror.
“What?” you asked, meeting his gaze in the reflection.
He remained silent.
You involuntarily stared at his face — sleeping, calm. He wasn’t furrowing his brows or looking upset, and that made you happy. It also made you a little embarrassed because he was incredibly handsome, even when he was just breathing.
You shook your head, pushing those thoughts away, and focused back on your task.
When you finished, you were about to go back to your bedroom, where you shared one bed. In the first weeks of living together, you tried to take turns sleeping on the couch, but soon gave up because it was uncomfortable, and neither of you was getting enough rest. Now, you slept together, with a pillow in the middle of the bed to divide you. Though, it often ended up on the floor by morning, but that was a minor detail.
You paused, glancing at him before sighing. You gently covered him with the blanket from the back of the couch. Then you hesitated, carefully took off his glasses, folded them, and set them on the table before leaving, never noticing the serene smile that spread across his face.
***
In your childhood, your mom told you that the feeling of falling in love was similar to the feeling of fear. You always thought it was some strange nonsense, but now, you suddenly understood what she meant.
Everything was going according to plan. You went on another shopping trip, when suddenly you encountered the infected, and everything happened too quickly. One moment, you saw Seungmin in front of you, and the next, he was knocked to the ground by a zombie. Without thinking, you swung a bat at the infected, sending it flying into the nearest wall, and quickly grabbed Seungmin’s hand to help him up.
He shook his head, then quickly squeezed your hand in return, and you ran. You ran with all your might, not stopping despite the burning in your lungs, the exhaustion, and the pain in your muscles. You kept running, and you could barely remember how you ended up in the apartment.
Seungmin slid down the hallway wall, breathing heavily. You looked at him, hearing your own heavy breathing as you knelt down in front of him. Your trembling hand found the sleeve of his jacket, gripping the fabric tightly as your anxious eyes met his surprised ones.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused, and then his eyes widened. “You… are crying?”
You sniffed, quickly wiping your tears and lowering your head in embarrassment.
“What? Does something hurt?” Seungmin panicked, touching your hand, and more tears flowed from his question.
“Better worry about yourself,” you replied, wiping your tears. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did they bite you?” you asked, scanning his face for injuries.
“No, I don’t think so,” he replied, still stunned.
“Good,” you answered, louder than necessary, and stood up, heading to the bathroom to take a shower and figure things out.
Why had you cried? Was it fear for yourself? No. Definitely not. But admitting the real reason, even to yourself, was something you refused to acknowledge. You had also made a fool of yourself in front of Seungmin…
You scolded yourself, but Seungmin didn’t say a word all evening. He simply placed a bowl of seaweed soup in front of you before retreating to your bedroom.
Late that night, when the room was only dimly lit by the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, you woke up, despite being exhausted, staring at the ceiling. You could feel how your shirt clung uncomfortably to your body, just like your hair stuck to your sweaty face. You carefully sat up so as not to wake Seungmin, trying to calm your breathing that had been disrupted by a nightmare, but none of your usual techniques worked. So, you quietly stood up, threw on a light sweater, and quietly opened the balcony door, stepping outside and leaning on the railing. From below, you could hear the distant wail of the infected, and see a few figures wandering in the darkness. At night, they always came out, disliking the sunlight during the day.
You shivered from a sudden gust of wind, biting your lip and wiping the tears that had welled up with the sleeve of your sweater.
“Idiot. Stop crying,” you whispered to yourself, exhaling sharply.
And then you felt his warm hands wrap around you from behind, pulling you against his solid chest. You froze, feeling Seungmin press his face into your neck, his breath tickling your ear.
“Why did you leave?” he asked quietly, and the deep, post-sleep voice sent a shiver down your spine.
“And why did you get up?” you replied, questioning him in return.
“I asked first,” he whispered, inhaling the scent of your hair.
You swallowed, then said, “I had a nightmare.”
You might have thought he didn’t hear you if his arms hadn’t tightened around you.
“Your turn to answer.”
You heard a soft chuckle by your ear.
“I missed you.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words.
“I can’t sleep without you.”
“And what about the pillow, the boundaries?” you tried, trying to keep your composure.
He exhaled loudly against your neck, sending a rush of goosebumps across your body.
“To hell with the pillow and the boundaries,” he said, and you felt his lips almost weightlessly touch your neck.
“Why were you crying?” he asked, gently leaving another kiss on your jaw when he didn’t meet any resistance.
“I was scared,” you said, then felt the need to add, knowing he was waiting for more: “For you. When that zombie attacked you today, I thought I was going to die from worry.”
He paused, as if pondering something, before pulling back. Your heart dropped, scared that he would reject you, thinking your words were silly and unnecessary.
But instead, he softly touched your shoulders, turning you toward him and studying your face. He didn’t laugh at your concerns. His expression was serious but relaxed, as if this was what he had wanted to hear. There was something else in his gaze, something dark and unfamiliar, and it made you feel as though the temperature had risen a few degrees, causing you to blush.
“You worried about me?” he asked softly, leaning in closer, meeting your gaze. “You say you were afraid you’d die from worrying?” he continued.
“But you’re still denying the obvious,” he whispered.
“Seungmin…” you began.
“We don’t need that stupid pillow,” his face twisted, and he squeezed your shoulders. “And stop running every time you’re in pain. Just tell me. Tell me everything. Wake me up in the middle of the night, cry as much as you want. Just stay with me,” he touched your face, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.
“Seungmin,” you whispered, feeling tears begin to sting your eyes again.
He exhaled.
“Yes, darling?”
And you let the tears fall down your cheeks. Seungmin pulled you into his embrace, burying his face in your neck, his hands holding you tightly. And you cried — quietly, letting all the tears and emotions that had built up over the past months flow free.
“You’re amazing, you’ve been so strong,” he whispered, his eyes wet too. You were both so broken and battered by life that there was no strength left for anything. You weren’t sure you would still be here if he hadn’t been with you, and he felt the same. You had become everything to each other in this world, spiraling into ruin, and you weren’t planning to let go of each other for even a second. Time was slipping away, slipping through your fingers, and you didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. Maybe you would die. So why not take the risk?
This didn’t feel like a melodramatic tearjerker. He pulled you to him, kissing you hungrily as if it were the last time. Your teeth clicked together as he guided you into the apartment, only parting from you long enough to close the balcony door before he was everywhere again, taking the breath from your lungs.
Your back hit the bed’s mattress, and he loomed over you. His hands traced every curve of your body as his mouth captured each of your ragged breaths. He was a little like a drunken man, but not from alcohol — from you, the feel of your skin against his, your fingers in his hair, which you tugged at as he lowered himself further and further.
The clothes had long been thrown onto the floor and forgotten, and his hand slid under your back, holding you steady as you arched towards him. His lips caught your soft moans, while his other hand gripped your hip, pushing it up and leaving small red marks on it from his fingers. He kissed your shoulders, collarbones, chest—everything he could touch, every inch. He bit your shoulder, occasionally throwing his head back in ecstasy, chasing his high, whispering sweet nonsense mixed with dirty words into your ears at which your face grew even redder, the movement of his hips making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl.
When he fell onto his back beside you, breathing heavily, the dawn was just beginning outside the window, and the sun still hadn’t risen. The sheets were crumpled, and the bedroom, now truly yours, was hot, smelling of sweat and sex.
You felt his gaze on you, and then you felt him pulling you closer, leaving a kiss on your temple.
“You need to drink some water,” he murmured into your skin. “I’ll be right back, don’t fall asleep yet.”
He left, and when the warmth of his body left you, you found you had no strength to move, blinking stupidly and staring at the ceiling. He returned a few minutes later with a bottle of water in his hand and a wet towel. He gently wiped your thighs and held the bottle to your lips, carefully supporting your head while you drank.
“Is everything okay?” he asked softly, kissing you again.
You kissed him back and met his gaze.
“Better than ever,” you replied, weakly smiling, and he smiled back, running his hand through your hair.
“Lie next to me,” you mumbled, feeling fatigue take over. He obediently lay down, pulling you close and closing his eyes.
“Sleep. And when you wake up, I’ll be right here.”
***
It was a good time, filled with kisses, laughter, and a temporary escape from everything happening around you. You felt safe, needed, and loved for the first time in a long while. Seungmin had found an old player and music discs, and even brought out his guitar, hitting all the notes with his beautiful voice, though occasionally missing them because of his laughter, watching your awkward dancing. Nevertheless, his eyes were full of tenderness, and your heart melted.
You watched movies in the evenings, cooked together, or had long conversations in the bedroom, lying under the blanket in each other’s arms. You started wearing his clothes, and at first, he pretended to be annoyed, calling you a thief, but the smile on his face gave him away.
You even took out the old camera from his closet while going through things, and recorded a video, talking about how life had changed, frequently interrupted by jokes to lighten the mood.
“I love you,” he said one day, in a completely casual tone, while you were painting your nails with a nail polish you had found in a store during your latest outing into the outside world.
You looked up at him.
“What did you say?”
He smiled, leaning against the back of the couch, looking at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
“I said I love you.”
You blinked, then blinked again, and again, and he laughed, watching your face turn redder by the second.
“That’s beautiful,” he said, reaching out to touch your face, still smiling. “When you blush, I really want to devour you.”
You shook your head, trying to hit his hand.
“You’re annoying,” you muttered as he caught your hand and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
“Careful, you’ll ruin your nails,” he smirked. “And we both know that’s a lie. You love me.”
You pressed your lips together in annoyance.
“I do,” you said, noticing how his eyes sparkled. “Sometimes it feels like I love you too much.”
He pulled you closer, kissing you.
“Nonsense. I never have enough of you.”
***
But there were tough times too. Like when you were bitten, and you panicked day and night, unable to sleep or eat, worried you might harm Seungmin. You clearly remembered the look of horror on his face when he saw the blood after pulling the infected person away from you. You were very afraid of becoming like that.
You thought about running away so he would be safe, but he firmly refused, making you promise that you would get through it together and that you would tell him if you felt any changes.
You waited, nervously removing the bandage and looking at the ugly bite mark on your leg. But the days passed, and nothing happened, while the disinfected wound healed.
“This is good,” Seungmin muttered, examining the bite and relaxing a little.
You could see how hard it had been for him all this time. How he hadn’t slept, worrying about you, how he checked your temperature and pulse every hour at night.
“Sorry,” you whispered as he looked at you. “You were so worried.”
He cupped your face in his hands, smiling faintly.
“Why are you apologising, silly? I should be the one apologizing for this happening to you.”
“But it’s not your fault,” you replied.
“And yet I feel guilty.”
And you knew he wasn’t lying. He had been torturing himself with the thought that it should have been him, that it was all his fault.
“Stop being ridiculous,” you pulled him closer, fixing his hair.
“You’re not to blame, do you hear me? Seungmo. You saved me back then, and you’re always by my side. Don’t you dare blame yourself, okay?”
He looked into your eyes for a long moment before sighing helplessly and nodding.
***
A month later, it became clear that you were immune to the virus, as no changes had occurred or were expected, and the wound only left a scar. You returned to your normal routine, even recording another video, talking about this strange incident.
Meanwhile, you could feel Seungmin’s nervousness whenever the topic of another outing came up. You tried to reassure him that everything would be fine and that there was still some time before it, so he should stop worrying, and you firmly told him that he wasn’t going anywhere alone anyway.
Although it became a little easier after accepting the fact that nothing was likely to change, and that there was no hope for rescue, especially after surviving a zombie bite, it was still just as scary as before to go out, but now you had some vague assurance that not everything was lost. You worried more about Seungmin, unsure if he had immunity to the virus himself.
But you didn’t have to find out, because one day, there was a knock on the door. Seungmin approached it cautiously, meeting your gaze, tightening his grip on the knife in his hand before peeking through the peephole.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and then his eyes widened.
“What’s going on?” you nervously asked, watching in surprise as Seungmin opened the door and immediately hugged the stranger.
And the stranger turned out to be none other than Lee Minho—his friend, whom you vaguely remembered from before the zombie apocalypse, when they used to meet often and play catch together at the park. Behind Minho was another familiar guy, whom Seungmin also hugged. You think his name was Jeongin. Both were in military uniforms.
“You… How…?” Seungmin couldn’t gather himself, and you rubbed his back, noticing the tears in his eyes.
“Did you think we were going to leave you?” Minho smirked, but it was clear he was happy to see his friend. Then, Jeongin and Minho noticed you, greeting you with surprise, obviously remembering your past tension with Seungmin.
They explained that as soon as they escaped their area with infected people, they joined the other survivors and had been trying to reach you for a long time. Now the rest of their group was clearing the complex of zombies, and a helicopter was waiting for the survivors on the roof. They reassured Seungmin that the other five of his friends were alive and well.
It took you and Seungmin no more than fifteen minutes to throw the essentials into your backpacks, change clothes, and go back into the corridor to meet Minho and Jeongin. Minho looked at your joined hands, then smirked, glancing at Seungmin’s face.
“So, are you two together now?”
Seungmin squeezed your hand tighter, and you looked at him.
“Together,” he smiled and turned his gaze to you.
In the helicopter, sitting next to Seungmin, your fingers intertwined, you were sure that everything would be alright now.
Rating: mature?? but not really, there’s just some kissing— warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, brief mention of murder, prostitution and human trafficking; gangs, criminals etc. apologies if I forgot something!!
Pairing: Kim Seungmin x fem!reader
Word count: 2k approximately
Synopsis: “It’s dangerous to meet a woman who fully understands you. It usually ends with marriage” — Oscar Wilde
Note from author: this is my first ever fanfic on here, not proof read + English is not even my second language, but I hope you like it and please leave any comments or point out anything you think needs correction or could have been done better(I accept criticism in a respectful form)!!!
The clouds loomed heavily over Seoul like harbingers of misfortune. The streets lay empty, illuminated only by the dim glow of streetlights and the occasional hum of passing cars.
Seungmin’s trainers splashed lightly in a puddle left behind by the evening rain, sending ripples across its surface and distorting the reflection of a neon sign that read “ODDINARY”. The soft chime of a bell announced his entrance, and Seungmin shivered, rolling his shoulders as if to shrug off the damp chill of the brooding weather outside.
“We’re closed—oh, it’s you,” muttered Chan, barely glancing up as his narrowed eyes remained fixed on his laptop screen.
Seungmin scoffed, pulling out a stool on the opposite side of the bar and placing a stack of papers in front of Chan.
“Done already?” Chan raised an eyebrow, scanning the contents with mild interest.
Seungmin merely nodded, tugging at the cuff of his leather jacket as his gaze swept the room, lingering momentarily on an unfinished cup of coffee.
“He cracked pretty quickly when I brought up his new sweetheart,” Seungmin said, his face twisting in disgust. Chan let out a satisfied chuckle.
“Good work. He will not be causing any trouble now that we have got that ace up our sleeve—and he has signed the deal.”
Having completed his task, Seungmin quickly lost interest in the conversation. Chan was the leader of their gang, while Seungmin acted as his right-hand man, handling negotiations and finances. The “ODDINARY” club was a front, masquerading as a modest café while running as a covert organisation. Those who knew where to look and whom to ask would find themselves descending a staircase into an entirely different world—one where any demand could be fulfilled, except for murder, prostitution, and human trafficking.
At the helm of this rising powerhouse in Seoul’s underground scene, alongside Chan and Seungmin, were six other members. They were rarely seen by outsiders, but their reputations preceded them, spreading like wildfire.
“Where’s Han?” Seungmin asked, his face a bit too indifferent.
“Worried?”
“Not at all.”
Chan laughed.
“She’ll be fine.”
“I wasn’t asking about her,” Seungmin retorted, his expression tightening. But they both knew the truth.
You and Han had been sent on a mission. Han was usually tasked with blackmail and resolving disputes, often ending in a fight he preferred to avoid. You, on the other hand, were the gang’s secret thief, the best spy they had. Dubbed “the Wraith” in underground circles, you were a master of slipping in and out unnoticed, leaving no trace except the secrets you had stolen.
Seungmin was often accompanied by you on assignments, growing accustomed to your silent presence in the shadows. Over time, he had become so used to you being by his side that your absence left him uneasy—though he’d never admit it aloud.
You rarely found yourself in trouble, but the fact that you were out with Han today unsettled him. Perhaps it was a colleague’s concern, or maybe it was Han’s knack for diving headfirst into chaos. Or, perhaps, a hint of jealousy he would not dare acknowledge.
The thought flitted through his mind, and Seungmin shook it off with a scowl as he raised from the stool.
“I’m off. You’ve got the report,” he said, heading towards the door.
“Say hi to the Wraith for me!” Chan called after him, his laughter following Seungmin out of the café.
Seungmin’s jaw tightened. Chan’s perceptiveness was both his greatest asset and his most infuriating trait. It was unsettling how easily Chan could read him, especially when it came to matters Seungmin wasn’t ready to confront, even within himself.
The autumn wind bit through his jacket as Seungmin climbed the stairs and strode down the hallway, glancing out at the city below. The club gave its members places to live, and although he could have afforded a luxurious flat elsewhere, he preferred the cosy apartment he kept on the top floor of the building. By chance—or not—your flat was only a few doors away. Barely anyone else lived on the top floor — it was only him, you, Felix and Jeongin, who were considered the hackers of their organisation and only showed when they wanted to be found, or during the monthly meetings to discuss things. You were absent most of the time as well, sent by Chan on the missions, and as a spy, honestly speaking, it could take days or even weeks to get information he needed. Seungmin himself went home only to gather his thoughts or to simply sleep, in other times preferring to deal with work until exhaustion caught up to him.
He found his hand instinctively reaching for his keys, but his gaze drifted to your door. He swallowed, the keys jangling between his fingers as he debated with himself. Finally, with a sigh, he gave in and stepped closer. His fingers hovered over the doorbell, hesitation freezing him mid-motion. What was he doing? What would he even say? If you weren’t home, and he could pretend this never happened, so eventually he pressed the doorbell and waited, his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers as he found himself growing more nervous by each passing second.
The faint click of the lock made his stomach drop, and the door creaked open slightly. Your eyes met his—guarded at first, but softening the moment you recognised him. Seungmin opened his mouth, searching for words, but they died on his lips as the door swung wider. His eyes swept over you, instantly noticing the scratch on your face, the bloodstains on the sleeves of your dark purple blouse, and the small cut on your collarbone. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his gaze hardened.
“What happened?” he asked grimly, his voice low and steady, but with an edge sharp enough to cut through steel.
You hesitated, lowering your head as you stepped aside, silently inviting him in. He blinked, then stepped into the flat, closing the door behind him. His eyes never left you as you led him into the living room, your footsteps soft against the floor. Sometimes he reminded you of a puppy — with his furrowed eyebrows or pouty lips when he didn’t like something. But right now he was more of a rattlesnake following its prey, gliding smoothly, almost inaudibly, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
You stopped in front of the table with your back turned to him. You could tell he was waiting for an explanation.
“Who?” he asked quietly, and your heart stuttered in your chest before racing faster.
His tone was calm, almost gentle—the same tone he used when he was about to end someone. He wasn’t just angry; he was furious.
“Give me a name.”
“Seungmin…”
“Where’s Jisung?”
“It’s not his fault.”
You turned to face him, years of training and extreme self-control the only things keeping your legs steady beneath his piercing gaze.
“They knew I was coming and hired a killer to wait on the roof,” you explained, noting the slight twitch of his fingers.
“You don’t need to kill anyone—I’ve already taken care of it,” you added firmly. “Chan will know soon enough; Han’s gone to report back.”
Seungmin said nothing, but the tension in his stance was palpable. You sighed, turning away to unbutton your blouse and shrug it off your shoulders. Beneath it, you wore a tank top, but you still heard the faint shuffle behind you as he respectfully averted his gaze.
“I’m fine, really,” you murmured, wetting a cloth to clean the cut on your shoulder. “You don’t think I’m weak, do you? I handled it.”
You knew he didn’t see you as fragile, but the question was more for distraction than reassurance. Just as you raised the cloth to your wound, you felt his warm fingers wrap gently around your wrist. You turned slightly with a bewildered expression on your face as he took the cloth away from you.
“I can do it myself,” you whispered, biting your lip.
“I know,” he said softly. “But let me, please.”
A shiver ran down your spine, and you nodded. “Alright.”
His eyes met yours briefly before returning to your injury. The cool cloth pressed against your skin, soothing the sting. His frown deepened as he concentrated on cleaning the wound with surprising tenderness.
“Are you angry?” you asked quietly, breaking the silence.
“Not at you,” he replied, moving to the cut on your collarbone and stepping closer.
You could feel his breath against your cheek, and where his hands touched your skin, you felt it ignite underneath.
“I’m angry at the person who hurt you, a bit at Jisung for letting it happen, and at Chan for sending you on that mission.”
You raised an eyebrow, sensing he wasn’t finished.
“And?”
“And I’m angry at myself,” he admitted, his hands pausing as he met your gaze. For a moment, his usual guarded expression faltered, revealing a raw vulnerability. “For not being there with you.”
“Seungmin, it’s not your fault,” you said, as his fingers gently touched the skin just above the cut on your collarbone. “They underestimated the Wraith, and I made sure they paid their price…”
You barely finished speaking before his voice cut through yours.
“I don’t care what they think about our gang,” he replied through gritted teeth, his frustration evident. “Underestimating us is their mistake, but what makes my blood boil is that they dared to touch my Wraith.”
Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widening at his words. His hand tightened slightly on your shoulder as he leaned in and allowed his forehead to fall at the crook of your neck.
“I’m furious because they dared to touch my woman.”
Your cheeks flushed, and your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it. When he pulled back slightly, his face was mere inches from yours, his thumb brushing the scratch on your cheek with startling tenderness.
His words, his actions, the intensity of his gaze—it was overwhelming. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his in a fleeting, hesitant kiss. You pulled back quickly, unsure of his reaction.
But then his hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss—deeper, more desperate, as though he had been starved of this moment for far too long. His lips moved against yours with a fervour that left you breathless, his other arm wrapping around your waist to draw you closer.
Between kisses, he murmured words that sent shivers down your spine: “Mine. All mine.”
His words set your heart racing, his scent filling up all the space in your lungs. When you finally broke apart for air, his dark eyes bore into yours, his hand resting low on your waist, threatening to slip lower.
“My greatest weakness is you,” he whispered, and you kissed him again.
No words of love were needed. They were spoken through glances across the room during monthly meetings, through caring gestures and quiet concern. In every lifetime, you would find each other again, bound by a love that neither of you could deny—even if you were both too afraid to admit it.
Can we all just take a moment and appreciate how good looking he truly is?? I’m actually going insane. He’s like so pretty! And his hairstyle? Like omg ( ^ω^ ) And his smile, and his voice. I love him(in a normal and healthy amount) 🤍😔 He’s so silly as well.
You’re doing so well, and we’re proud of you🥹 You’re so amazing and funny, and STAYs wish you to be happy! Stay healthy and eat well, okay?? Take care of yourself. Do what you enjoy, and we’ll always be there for you, because STAYs love you!!!
Happy Birthday to our silly dance king💛🎀
(Soonie, Doongie and Dori are also congratulating him🙃)
I hope you know how much STAYs love you, and we wish you to be happy, stay healthy and also take care of yourself🫶🏻 Thank you for making STAYs feel so special, and we really appreciate all the efforts you and other members put into your work. Just know that we’re always there for you no matter what.
Thank you so much, you deserve all the happiness in the world❤️🫵🏻
titsay
annaxmalina
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
izzy806
pixelskylines