StrayerThings @strayerthings - Tumblr Blog

A little death never killed anybody (18+)

Synopsis: As lead curator at The Egyptian Museum of Cairo, you would think you’d be treated with respect at The National Museum of Korea. Especially as guest lecturer on one of the most valuable artifacts in the world. Apparently not, you realise, while you’re being chucked out the door by the most obnoxiously gorgeous man you’ve ever seen. Oh, he has no idea what he’s in for.

Content info: Minho x afab reader, one-shot, non-idol Minho, enemies to lovers trope, slight angst/fluff/smut

General Warnings: Smut (specifics under the cut), unwanted attention (nothing too serious)

Word Count: 12k

Strayerthings Masterlist

a/n: It's heeeereeee! I tried something different - let me know how you find it! If you have any requests for the next one, pop me a message 🌻🖤

Smut: dom/sub dynamics, semi-public fingering, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (don't), nickname (kitten)

Explicit content - minors do not interact.

Man you were tired. The flight had been long, not to mention the preparations before and after. You had gone straight to the National Museum of Korea as soon as you landed. Didn’t want the damned thing out of your sight. But now where was he? You were supposed to meet thirty minutes ago but there was no one around and he wasn’t picking up. The displays were pretty, however, so you wandered aimlessly around whilst calling your boss. God, you needed a shower.

“Hello, Y/n? Did everything go to plan?”

“Hey! Yeah, well, I’m at the museum but I can’t locate Dr Son? He’s not answering and this place is massive…” You trailed off as you noticed a beautiful canopic jar, topped by the baboon head of Hapy. New Kingdom for sure. Your boss said he would try his phone and get back to you. It was just as you had your nose to the glass that you noticed a man standing off to the side. This gave you a fresh wave of hope and so you turned around and approached him.

“Hi! Sorry, but do you work here?”

The man stared disdainfully down at your outfit and you followed his line of vision. So what if you were wearing ripped jeans and a comfy tee? You admit, your stained sneakers were a bit overkill but you had just flown from Cairo for god’s sake. You looked back up at him and noticed what he was wearing - crisply pressed black trousers, shiny shoes, a white shirt rolled up to his elbows and the most ridiculous watch you’d ever seen. Inflated kingdom for sure. But you had to admit - if it weren’t for the massive scowl on his chiseled visage, he would have been quite pretty to look at. His dark hair framed his face well and his pouty, pink lips softened his sharp features. He still hadn’t answered you so you cleared your throat and spoke slower - just in case he couldn’t understand. Foolproof method as always.

“I’m looking for Dr Son, head curator?” You mimed and gestured as best you could but still nothing. It was only when you pulled up the Google translate app that his mouth moved.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You blinked. The museum was open, wasn’t it? You scanned the room and found a few people studying the display cases. You turned back to him in confusion.

“I’m sorry, what do you mean? I’m looking for your head cu-”

“Do you know how priceless the artifacts in this museum are? How much it cost to have this masterpiece built in the Yongsan Family Park? And here you are, sauntering in, wearing those atrocious clothes and obnoxiously ranting into your phone. It is absolutely disrespectful to the patrons - not to mention the way you just greeted me. ‘Hi?’ Learn a couple words of Korean if you’re going to explore our culture. If you don’t believe me, look around you!”

You followed his instructions wordlessly, noticing how some people were glancing your way.

Fuck. The colour bled across your cheeks and you had never felt so embarrassed in your life. Swallowing your indignation, you struggled to meet his gaze - opting to stare at your Air Forces instead. But no. Who was he to treat you like this? You had simply asked him a question and this was his response? You tilted your face up and shot him a glare - he sneered at what he saw.

“I will tell Dr Son that a… vagrant has arrived for his attention but I reserve the right to remove you from the premises so you will kindly wait outside.”

The skin had tightened around his eyes and you knew this was no joke. You trailed after him dumbly and stepped outside, heart racing and hands clenching. You stood there fuming for a good fifteen minutes until you realised that he was, indeed, not going to find the head curator for you.

Fucking son of a bitch.

“And so, for the first time in history, The Egyptian Museum of Cairo has done us the great honour of lending our humble institution this monumental find. It will change the way we interpret the transition to life after death in the Ancient world. This would not have been possible without our tenacious benefactors as they have been working for months to secure the transportation and exhibition space. The museum has, thus, invited all of you, our esteemed members of society, to witness the unveiling of our rarest artifact, the Book of the Dead of the Priest of Horus, Imhotep.”

Minho nodded in approval from where he stood at the front of the hall. He was drinking in the words of Dr Son as he, himself, had worked to the bone in order to make this happen. He sipped the Moët champagne as the stress evaporated from his shoulders. Ever since he’d heard this text was held in Cairo, he had found himself obsessed. Perhaps it was macabre but he’d always been fascinated with death. Or, rather, eternal life. Elysian fields, Nirvana, Field of Reeds - call it what you will but Minho was ravenous. That’s not to say he believed in it but he didn’t want to not believe in it. To dismiss it was to give in to the notion that this was all there was. He was in a constant state of ennui and he felt the tie around his neck choke him more and more as the days went on. Oh, don’t misunderstand, he wasn’t religious, he didn’t believe in a Christian heaven or hell. Where was the fun in that? No, he wanted the Pagan amalgamation of pleasures and beauty. Where human flaws thrived and that was okay. So when he’d caught wind of a new text detailing the ceremony of entering the Egyptian afterlife he booked a ticket and studied the script in depth. It was fascinating, so much so that he needed to have it displayed to the Korean public. He pumped money into the museum, appealed to dear Dr Son and voila, six months later here he was. The exhibition would only run for a few weeks but still. The triumph dripped sweetly off his tongue.

“Here to guide us through this momentous occasion is a jack of all trades. She has been working on this item for a year now and has travelled all the way from Cairo in order to share her findings. She has quite the reputation in the way of curating and conservating as she has worked in many of the world's finest museums - among those being the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg and the British Museum in London. She will be here to help the educators and then will return the book to its rightful place. Please give a warm welcome to Dr L/n!”

The clapping started but Minho couldn’t see anything. The woman had clearly been standing at the back and the audience parted as she strode forward. When she entered his line of sight, his breath hitched. Now this was a woman. Her dress had clearly been tailored to the theme as the gold lamé material was an obvious indication of a modernised Old Kingdom look. The shimmering skirt flowed around her toned legs, the bodice clung to her just right and the straps snaked across her torso sensually. He thought it couldn’t get any better until he noticed how her skirt was split on either side. It was scandalous. It was sexy. He studied her side profile as she walked past him - her jewelry was understated, just a simple gold band around her upper arm and her hair was slightly curled. He thought back to the pitiful excuse he had encountered that morning and shivered in anticipation. He would make her notice him. But then the most horrific thing happened. As she climbed the steps, thanked the good doctor and turned around to face the crowd, he choked on his champagne. It was you.

🐍

You squared your shoulders and proudly lifted your gaze to the audience. This was it, your moment. You lived for this. You stared affectionately at the display case next to you and sighed, arranging your thoughts. You started your lecture.

“This papyrus is inscribed for a priest of the god Horus named Imhotep. His coffin was found in 1913 at the cemetery of Meir, and this papyrus most likely comes from his burial. It was designed to help Imhotep make a successful transition from death to eternal life, and to ensure his safety and well-being in the realm of the dead. Written in a cursive script known as hieratic and read from right to left, it is divided into 182 columns, each containing one or more spells, incantations, or prayers. A continuous frieze of scenes along the top, as well as larger drawings filling the height of the papyrus, illustrate or substitute for individual spells. Neither texts nor images follow a narrative sequence, but instead represent a compilation of spells grouped, to some extent, by theme.”

As you spoke your eyes scanned the room, your confidence blooming at how the people drank you in, eyes sparkling. There was only one audience member not looking too pleased and your words faltered as you faced the man. It was him. Dressed impeccably, ringed-fingers gripping his champagne flute, he was gorgeous. But it was his expression that shook you out of that thought. You maintained strong eye contact for a second and as you saw his jaw clench, a smirk painted your lips. It was a pure Pretty Woman moment and the feeling rushed through your blood. His eyes narrowed and you continued to speak, turning away again. You detailed some of the spells and aspects of Imhotep’s tailored afterlife and when you were done, the applause was deafening. You bowed slightly, grinning from ear to ear, the gala continued and for the rest of the evening, you went around and met the suits.

This was always the worst part for you. It wasn’t that you were shy or intimidated - rather the opposite. The benefactors pissed you off. Most of them weren’t interested in history at all - they just wanted to throw their money around and get off on the “importance” they exuded. As they were so entitled, they expected the staff to lie down at their feet - or, when it came to you, to get you on your knees. You weren’t going to apologise for dressing up at these things and you certainly weren’t going to step down for looking too young but the way they leered at you made your stomach curl in disgust. Furthermore, you could admit that perhaps you had committed a fashion faux pas in this country because none of the other ladies had any decolletage on display and they certainly didn’t have slits as high as yours. You narrowly avoided face-palming yourself and sucked in a deep breath, enduring their eyes on your legs.

You noticed a look of awe on a woman’s face and turned around to see the insufferable git from this morning make his way to you. His eyes were sharp and even though you could see the steam coming out of his ears, he was still breathtaking. You internally groaned, must he look like this? You grabbed the nearest waiter and performed a disappearing act on a couple of champagne flutes.

The asshole placed himself opposite you in a ring of people who had lazily drifted closer, finery dripping off their forms. The woman who had ogled him earlier (to be fair, most did) leaned forward.

“Mr Lee, how good of you to join us.”

He threw her a cheeky grin, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world as you well know.”

She clapped her hands together excitedly, “Oh, that’s right! Dr L/N, this is the man who personally advocated to bring your treasure in. It was all he would discuss in our meetings and truth be told, if I hadn’t heard your presentation today, I would have said he probably knew more about it! This is Mr Lee Minho.”

The Mr in question maintained eye contact with you throughout her spiel. It felt like a challenge and you weren’t about to lose. He was severe, obviously stubborn and waited for you to greet him first. You smiled sweetly and coyly replied with, “We’ve met. He was ever so accommodating when I found myself lost.”

He took a swig of his champagne, jaw ticking. You were starting to enjoy this gala. A man spoke up and introduced himself as Mr Cho Daniel. He started in on some questions while the others listened attentively. He wasn’t half bad-looking, black hair and a winning smile but it didn’t seem to quite reach his eyes and that, in itself, unsettled you.

“Dr L/N, what brought you to Cairo? I mean, I know the collection is impressive but isn’t it so incredibly dangerous for a single woman like yourself?” He leaned forward and his gaze focused downwards for a split second. Yup, don’t like this guy.

You raised your chin. “When one is passionate about something - to the point of excess - that won’t stop you. Ancient magic has always been in the back of my mind, since I was a kid. The fact that humans could come up with such ideas, such incredible places of worship, customs, death rites and gods. It was inconceivable to me and to be honest, my curiosity to understand their minds is what drove me forward. No offense, but don’t you feel a sense of resigned acceptance, banality in your daily routines? Where is the fire that had spurred these people on? So I had to follow my path. But don’t worry, I learned some tricks along the way. I worked in Iran before this and held my own by learning some Western Persian and a little self-defense. Now I get by with elementary Arabic and a pushy attitude. Simply put, foreign customs and sexism will not deter me.”

As Minho watched you, he got angry at himself for the grudging respect he was feeling. You had the same outlook in life and it pissed him off to a momentous degree. He had to nip this in the bud but as he knew he would be working closely with you for the next few weeks (due to being the sole reason for the arrival of the artifact) he would need to get into your good books. He also hated the way Cho was staring at you, not listening to a word you were saying. The guy was a notorious creep and Minho couldn’t help moving closer to you as subtly as he could.

Your eyes flickered to him and you felt your neck heat up. You stared at your empty glass accusingly and excused yourself to find the bathroom.

🐍

As you made your way through a corridor, a deep voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Ms, if I could have a word?”

It's Doctor, you asshole. You paused and slowly turned around. Minho approached you carefully and when he was close enough he stilled, not saying anything. You couldn’t read his expression and felt yourself getting angrier by the second. You raised your eyebrow. He cleared his throat.

“Right, well. I’ve come to apologise. I realise we may have started on the wrong foot - although you can hardly blame me - but we will be working together from now on and I really don’t need any more antagonism. I suppose I can teach you some manners and then that will make it easier.”

As he went on, your mouth had fallen open of its own accord. You actually couldn’t believe the gall of this man. You’d had enough.

He looked at you with an expectant expression. Did he really think that was an apology?

“Go fuck yourself, Mr Lee.”

As you turned around, a firm hand gripped your upper arm and spun you back. He was closer than ever, staring down at you with stormy eyes. He continued to scrutinise you silently and when his eyes ran down your form you felt a traitorous trickle of something low in your belly. It seemed to last an age but finally he let go, walking backwards for a couple of steps, a faint smirk on his face, before turning and striding away.

The next morning, you were late. Hardly surprising, really. In Cairo, the sun always woke you up and you had time to enjoy a coffee on your balcony. This was not the case in Seoul and you lamented the lack of sustenance as you almost tripped over your Mary Janes whilst running into the conference room to meet the staff formally. Shit. The whole space was filled, people quiet and listening. They turned their heads collectively in your direction, causing you to self-consciously smooth your short skirt before finding a seat. There was one smile in the room and she happened to have an empty spot next to her - you gratefully sank in and she leaned towards you.

“I’m Rachel and I’ll be your assistant.”

You smiled and shook her hand. She noticed you staring at her coffee like a long-lost sibling and chuckled, signalling to someone. When you had your first gulp, you took in your surroundings. These people looked professional. Most were much older than you and Rachel and their outfits were crisp. You subtly tried to remove a stubborn crease on your white chiffon blouse, to no avail. Rachel hid a smile behind her fist and you took her in - she looked to be mid-twenties with sleek hair and elf-like features. She seemed to have a permanent smile on her face and you found yourself quite excited to work with her. A throat cleared near you and when you turned towards the sound your sight was assaulted by Mr Lee sitting diagonally from you. He had a brow lifted and you scowled back, not realising that everyone was staring at you.

“Ms L/N, we are waiting for you.” You could hear the smugness in his tone and tried your best not to chuck your mug at his head. But, suddenly his words hit you. You whipped around and noticed the speaker had stopped…speaking. He repeated himself for your benefit and you smiled sheepishly, introducing yourself briefly.

“So, Dr L/n here, will be training the floor staff in introducing the book to customers for the next few days. She will also walk us through the set up and preservation of the artifact. I hope you’ll all make her feel welcome and that when she leaves, she’ll be comfortable in the knowledge that our staff is well-trained.”

People politely smiled and tipped their heads in your direction. All except one, of course.

🐍

After the meeting, you found yourself in a small room having a silent staring competition with around eight staff members. Rachel sent you an enthusiastic thumbs-up and you bolstered yourself, stepping forward slightly.

“Good morning, I hope we can work well together. If you have suggestions on how to improve our team or any queries, you are more than welcome to approach me. I’m so excited to share this with you.”

You cringed inwardly but relaxed slightly when genuine smiles graced their faces. You started handing out guides on the artifact, letting them get a general feel for the content. As you were waiting, you noticed the man of your nightmares slip into the room. He was wearing black pressed trousers and a white Oxford shirt. His hair was styled to perfection and his arms bulged where his sleeves were rolled up. He had the most pompous watch on his wrist again. One does not need a freaking time-turning device. You marched over, not noticing his eyes dip briefly, and pasted a fake smile onto your face.

“Mr Lee, just checking in?”

His lips twitched. “No, I’m on this project. Getting a feel of the process, if you will.” Perfect.

You struggled to keep your face pleasant and thrust the guide into his hand.

“Great, then try to keep up. If you need further guidance, don’t hesitate to ask my assistant.” Poor Rachel.

You took a deep breath and started, walking back to the front as you did so. You put the first few symbols on the projector while the staff followed along with the guides.

“Who knows how to read hieroglyphs?” Only around half raised their hands and the others shifted nervously. You smiled at them in reassurance. “That’s okay! It’s what I’m here for. As you can see,” You gestured to the slides, “Hieroglyphs can be read from the left or the right. The way to determine the direction is to look for a face and read towards it. The Book of the Dead of Imhotep reads from the right as you can see here. The bird is looking to the right so we start there.” You then pointed to two symbols stacked on top of each other and continued. “If they look like that, it needs to be read from top to bottom. This was done to conserve space.”

You heard a shuffle and looked up to find that the asshole had carelessly chucked the guide to the table next to him, scoffing in amusement. Gritting your teeth, you soldiered on. “No vowels here, only consonants and some are sounds. Much like cyrillic. Generally we just use ‘e’ as the vowel. To make matters a little more confusing, sometimes the objects are actually pictures instead of sounds/letters. I have included the most important sounds and ideograms for this specific document in the guide so all you need to do is memorise that before you start learning the next step of the priest’s story. It’s fairly straightforward as I was told you know the general workings of an Egyptian journey to the afterlife. It includes a list of spells and the ceremonial weighing of the heart before being taken to the Field of Reeds. We can start studying the text together when I put the copies of the book on the screen.”

You gave yourself a mental pat on the back as you took in the enthusiasm of your team. They were eager to learn and you were swelling with pride. Until you noticed the bastard, however. You saw his back as he left the room. Fury rippling through you, you made a quick excuse, allowing the others to study the guide as you bolted after the man.

“Excuse me!”

He turned around nonchalantly, something flickering in his eyes.

“Yes?”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To my office?”

“I thought you wanted to be part of the process.”

“I do.”

You gaped at his faux confused expression.

“So? That means you need to learn the process! You can’t go around acting like you’re better than the people in there whilst learning nothing!”

You noticed his hand clenching before smoothing out as he moved towards you. He bent down patronisingly and you took an involuntary step back.

“I am way past the rudimentary stage of reading hieroglyphs, Ms L/n, on account of studying the text myself in its rightful place. I can even point out the details that you, yourself, have missed. When you get to the challenging bit, which I assume will take some time, I will be there.”

When he noticed your mouth gaping at him, he nodded to himself and stalked off, leaving you in a dark corridor again.

🐍

Fuck this insufferable woman. Fuck her.

Minho slammed his door shut and leaned heavily against it, chest heaving. What was it about this woman that drove him to the edge? He thought he could handle being in the same room as you and, for a while, things went well. Until he started to get swept up in your voice, the authoritative yet soothing tone creeping down his spine. The way you delved into a subject that had fascinated him for years resonated deep inside his gut and those legs! He thought back to the numerous pairs of legs he’d seen from different angles and wondered what made yours so special. The thought struck him - perhaps it was the enticing concoction of the legs and the brains. The brains that hated him through no fault of his own, mind you. But he had a solution - he was going to find another combination of legs and brains thus putting this catastrophe to bed. Well, specifically not to bed. He texted his best mate.

🐍

“Oh Minho, you are too funny!”

The giggles grated his eardrums and he struggled to maintain a (normal) smile while the gorgeous specimen clung onto his arm. It had been no chase in the slightest. He and Chan had sauntered over to the bar and within five seconds a beautifully svelte creature had placed her sleek red nails on his bicep. He flexed helpfully. He checked to make sure that she had shapely calves and sure enough, she did. Phase one - complete. Next, to check for brains.

“So what do you do, sweetheart?”

“I take supplements everyday, do fifty squats and then create content for my followers.”

Sigh. A damn shame really - never in his life did he have to reject a woman who did squats. Nevertheless, he let her gently go and waited for the next one. Chan widened his eyes in disbelief to which Minho merely shrugged and straightened his jacket. Sure enough, a lovely brunette sidled up, a devilish gleam in her eye. Interesting. He glanced her over, phase one most definitely complete.

“What do you do, sweetheart?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

Minho’s eyebrows raised at that - could he dare to dream? They fell into an easy chatter, drinks flowing, but when she slid closer his brain hiccoughed. He squinted, taking her features in. Similar but the eyes weren’t right - there was no furrow to her brow, no semblance of anger or disgust. Why did that unsettle him? He tried to brush it off, continuing to pick her brain, sliding his arm around her waist, but when she leaned in he froze. Why was she trying to kiss him? She wasn’t supposed to want to do that. As her lips touched his, he groaned and realised the issue. She, quite simply, wasn’t you. Fuck that woman!

“I’m sorry, love, but this isn’t going to work. Allergies, you see.”

She flounced off in a huff leaving him to endure the wrath of his friend. He felt himself enveloped in Chan’s arms and struggled to push him off.

“What the fuck? Get off me!”

“Sssh, it’s okay. You’ve finally lost it and I’m here for you. Next up, we book you into a wellness retreat.”

Minho simply slumped in his embrace, vowing to get over his fixation before you left.

You were getting better at ignoring each other. When his looming frame entered your vision, you would stare straight ahead and stride past him. It seemed to work most of the time as he was never in your sessions due to it not being ‘challenging’ enough. You tried to suppress your respect when it came to the man. You had the initial impression of him as being a spoilt freeloader who threw money at anything that looked pretty. Quite the opposite was true as your colleagues told you about his passion for the museum and its contents. The way he flew all the way to Egypt to study something he was interested in. He took some courses on the topic, learnt ancient languages and inserted himself where he could. They sang his praises and, at first, you thought they had been paid off but you started to notice the little things - how he always lent a helping hand to those he came across, the way he could carry an informed conversation with the curator, even the way he smiled at visitors. It was unnerving. But, even though these attributes tried their best to sway you, he would always dunk you back in freezing waters. It was how he looked at you, the way he wouldn’t try to hide his displeasure at being in your vicinity. His gorgeous eyes (damn him) would narrow into slits, his back would stiffen and he would look you up and down as if you were dressed in rags. You thought you looked quite nice - skirts, professional blouses - hell, you had caught people looking at you appreciatively but you felt terribly self conscious in his presence.

In fact, he was staring at you like that now when the man you met at the gala, Daniel, greeted you, pressing a coffee into your hand. This was the second time in the span of a few days that he had come to chat with you. You had been wary at first, as he didn’t leave the best first impression, but you soon felt you might have misjudged him as he had been perfectly cordial and friendly towards you since then. You tried to stay engaged in the conversation but he was making it very difficult as he was positively shooting you daggers just behind Daniel. You shifted uncomfortably on your feet - why was he so hellbent on targeting you? And why did it make you heat up on the inside? You found him attractive, yes, but surely that wasn’t enough to deter you from entertaining other men? Daniel was attractive too so why couldn’t you stop glancing at Minho? As if he could read your thoughts, the bastard in question sported a smirk on his face and you quickly shook your head, trying to come back to reality. God, you hated this man.

“No?”

You looked at the man opposite you. “Sorry, what?”

Daniel scratched the back of his neck, face unreadable, “I was asking if you would want to actually go out for a coffee sometime..”

Your eyes widened and you struggled to think of what to say. It was a little awkward being scrutinised from the side but you realised that this might be exactly what you need. You were thirsty, you hadn’t been out with anyone in a long time so that must be the reason for the incomprehensible pull you were feeling towards him. Planting a confident smile on your face, you replied with, “I’d love to.”

As you walked away, you thought you noticed Minho looking even more vexed than before - if that were even possible.

🐍

Minho watched as Daniel turned around and looked him straight in the eye. His brow lifted in question while a self-satisfied grin appeared. He wanted to wipe that off his face.

“What?”

“You know what, Cho.”

Daniel slithered forward, “I am merely taking a guest colleague out for a tour around the city. If she happens to be into me then that’s just a bonus.”

Minho shook his head in disgust as he watched him saunter away, blood boiling. There was no way in hell that he would let that happen. Feelings aside, Daniel was a predator. He had a reputation for getting the woman into bed on the first date and then ghosting. The issue here wasn’t so much the sex, it was the way he enjoyed it. Minho had seen bruises on some of his dates (new colleagues of theirs) and heard about his fascination with certain drugs to enhance the experience. He tried to get to the bottom of it but the women could never fully say that they didn’t consent to it. As much as he disliked you, he wouldn’t let that happen.

A couple days later you gather the group for the next lesson. They had been working diligently on learning hieroglyphic texts and how to preserve the particular specimen. Things were about to get even more challenging but you were sure they could handle it.

“Good morning! I want to applaud your effort these last few days - you have advanced at a fantastic pace and today you’re going to go even further.”

They started murmuring in curiosity as Rachel handed out the guides. Some of their faces paled when they read the title: Hieratic Script.

“Okay I know this sounds daunting but once you get a hang of the patterns you’ll be fine!”

You started playing with your rings nervously as you noticed how some were grumbling. You couldn’t understand them but knew resentment when you saw it. All right, so not everyone is into it. Just keep your head up and continue.

“So, as you can see Hieratic uses a type of cursive writing and -”

“Why do we need to learn this?”

You looked at the older man who had spoken in bewilderment.

“Sorry?”

“Why do we need to go into so much depth for one artifact that people will not even study for so long? Learning hieroglyphs was fun and useful but this is too complicated. We don’t have the time for it and I don’t see the point in knowing it.”

Some of the others whispered in agreement and you felt your anxiety spiking. Weren’t you here for this very purpose? To teach them in order to further their knowledge and career? You specialised in ancient languages and this was your project. You needed to calm down but the hurt at his blasé attitude was creeping in. As you were trying to come up with a respectful retort, another voice cut in. It was low and confident.

“You need to learn this as it is important for the future of this museum. Do you not want international historians to use us for their studies? What about university students? As it stands, the numbers are dwindling and providing courses like this could really benefit everyone in this room. Besides, this expert has left her home and flown all the way to a foreign country, by herself, in order to share her career with you. The least you could do is show respect and work with her. Also, stop talking about her in Korean. She is more experienced than any of you and I will have you reported.”

He was breathing a little harder at this point and you felt your mouth open in shock. He raked his hand through his hair and nodded at you with a tightened jaw before returning to the back. You had no idea he was here and you also had no idea why you were currently so aroused. You had to stop yourself from squeezing your thighs together as this was highly inappropriate and caught the eye of Rachel who winked at you with a disbelieving grin. Fuck my life. You straightened up and shot him a small smile before starting your course.

“Okay so. While hieroglyphics can be read from either side, hieratic script can only be read from right to left.The Egyptians adopted this style for efficiency. It was more convenient and ink on papyrus was the common method. Most religious texts were written in this way and that is why more than half of our book consists of this.”

You noticed Minho nodding along and listening intently. Guess the challenging part has finally come to fruition. Your anxiety dissipated at his support as everyone cooperated. It pissed you off to no end that they were complying to him rather than you but you would take it. Overall, it was a good lesson and you were more than satisfied at the end. They had a long way to go but it was mostly self-study now. As soon as you were done, you shot out of there - the awareness he instilled in you was so disconcerting that you were convinced you would melt into a puddle if you remained in the same room any longer. You felt a heated gaze on your back as you moved past.

🐍

Things were winding down for the evening as you made your way down the corridor. You were exhausted and needed to soak in a hot bath. As you rounded the corner you came face to face with Daniel who looked like he had been waiting for something.

“Y/n! Good to see you. Hey, what are you doing right now? Fancy getting that glass of wine?”

Something about his demeanor was a bit too cloying for your taste and you were really not in the mood. Besides, when did you agree to a drink in the evening? You pasted a smile onto your face.

“Uhh, I agreed to a coffee during the daytime. So we’ll just stick to that, yeah?” You made to move past him but he blocked the way.

“I mean, we can still grab a coffee, can we not? We didn’t specify a time.”

You started to consider it but felt someone come up behind you.

“She has dinner plans.”

What? Daniel sneered at Minho in response.

“With you?”

“Yes. Let’s go, Dr.”

You realised he had finally called you by your appropriate title and decided to blindly follow him as you heard Daniel say he would make a plan soon. When you were outside, he nodded at you and made to walk away.

“Wait-”

He turned around, face closed off.

“Why did you do that? Why did you make my choice for me?”

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later. Make sure to stay away from him.”

You felt anger rising, “I don’t think I can use the Rosetta Stone to decipher your response so you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

His chest rose as he glared at you, slowly moving closer. “Again, trust me when I say you should avoid the prick. He’s… not a good guy.”

Something in his words made you truly believe that he was not just messing you around to piss you off so you nodded. He turned to walk away but you remembered something.

“Wait,” he looked annoyed now, “I forgot to thank you for what you did in the lesson. I’m still unsure and you helped a lot.”

His features softened slightly and he hesitated before murmuring, “You don’t need to thank me, you deserve the respect - but you’re welcome.” You smiled at him and parted ways, grabbing your taxi. You were definitely not going to think about him in that hot bath.

It was the first day of the exhibition and you were nervous as hell. Sure, you wouldn’t be doing the tours but you needed it to go well. You paced around and smiled at the patrons awkwardly. You dressed for the occasion - hair up, skirt, heels - but you still felt out of place. You were watching the guides work their magic. You didn’t understand the talk but they seemed to be engaging the group as they bent over the display case. Fingers touched the glass and you tried to hold in your squeak of indignation. Before you could march over there, you felt a strong hand push a cup into your hands.

“Here. Drink this - green tea for your nerves.”

You looked up at the not-so-much-an-asshole-anymore and smiled in gratitude. He kept his stare forward but did not look antagonised. Your gaze swept over him and sighed inwardly. You tried so hard to look good, why was life unfair? He looked effortlessly handsome, clear skin shining, plush lips pursed in concentration and suit pristine. The shirt was just tight enough to show off his prominent shoulders. But wait… as you looked up at his eyes again, you saw he had been doing the exact same thing to your body and it was no longer in derision. It looked like admiration. You both whipped your heads back to the scene before you, subtle blushes creeping over your skin. He made sure that you were drinking your tea before he nodded and walked away. You shook your head in amazement - what had just happened? How did the two of you become (moderately) friendly in the space of two weeks? He stood up for you, helped you with Daniel and brought you tea. Baby steps but you no longer wanted to tear his hair out. He felt like a teammate. A teammate I would shag. No! Despite his change of heart, it was not enough to indicate that he was into you too. You tried to stay focused. Turning around, you found Rachel grinning at you with a raised eyebrow. Not again.

“Getting cosy with the ‘asshole’?”

“No! He just saw me freaking out, is all.”

“Y/n, that is not all. I saw the way you were staring at each other. It’s been going on for quite a while but nowhere near as blatant as today. I say, go for it. As far as I know, he’s single and a man like that should not go to waste. Have some fun while you’re here!”

You really liked her but you couldn’t open your mind to this possibility. You wouldn’t mind having fun but not with him. For some reason, you felt like that would be crossing a boundary. That it wouldn’t be just fun and you weren’t sure you could handle that.

“Let me know if you know of any single, casual flings around.” You walked off before she could protest.

🐍

Minho had to, once again, escape your presence. It was just tea. Just goddamned tea and he only made you some because you looked ready to strangle the children running around. You didn’t have to send him that fucking smile! The way it lit up your face was so unsteadying that he found himself looking down only to be met by your stunning curves in that skirt. The heels weren’t helping him either. He couldn’t pull himself away - your body was like a magnet and the only way his eyes could move was up or down. As he raked his gaze up, he noticed your cinched in waist and, heaven smite him, your full breasts straining against the blouse. He was drawn in by the curve of your bare neck - what it would feel like to place his lips there. Very softly. He wanted to undo your hair and curl his fingers into it harshly, pull you up against him and…

For god’s sake!

Now was not the time. Ever was not the time. But especially now as he was surrounded by people. He would probably be escorted off the premises if anyone stared at him hard enough. So he escaped to the bathroom where he could adjust himself. He really needed to get home because if he had to smell your shampoo again he would flip and probably do something very destructive. Like pin you up against the wall or hoist you up onto that display case or…

Fuck! Focus!

He checked the time and deemed it late enough to make an honorable exit. He walked swiftly to his office seeing a new group around the book. A begrudging smile lifted his features. It really was a success - his desire as he first laid eyes upon it in Cairo had come true. People were engaging, asking questions and staring at it in wonder. The guides were perfect as well, sharing mini tips on symbols and features of the hieratic. The woman had done it and she had done it well. He would never admit it but he had learned so much in her last couple sessions - he had tried to teach himself hieratic in the past but she had managed to solve some issues with just a few tips that never crossed his mind. If he could just look at her without leering he would be sure to mention that she should be proud of herself. Speak of the devil. No, I’m not ready!

He watched as you walked towards him with a small smile, no less lovely, on your face but he couldn’t handle it. He glared at you without fully realising and closed off his body language. He watched, heart sinking, as your face contorted into a confused grimace and you lowered your head, blinking rapidly. You hurried past him quickly and his steps faltered before smoothly continuing. This was for the best. Sure, on occasion he dallied with women but somehow, with you, it seemed different. He didn’t know how to feel around you and this was all temporary. Yes, this was for the best.

The next evening you were in the storeroom, gathering your things together. It was late but you absolutely needed to clean the display case with a loving intensity and, in a manner of speaking, coo at your baby. It certainly wasn’t healthy, you knew this, and you also knew you needed a new hobby or someone to care for. It had been pretty lonely up until now. Your travels and survival skills had made you very independent but you often caught yourself obsessing over your latest project while the rest of the world passed you by. Perhaps when you got back you would venture out more, meet new people, integrate into a group and finally have some good sex. Just a thought.

As you turned around to pick up your bag, you heard a throat clearing by the door. It was Daniel. You knew what was coming so you straightened up and got ready to decline his invitation once again.

“Hey, Y/n”

“Daniel! What a surprise, I was just leaving.”

“Perfect, I was hoping to go for a drink and chat about what a success your exhibition has been. The people are loving it and it is arranged…quite well.”

Yeah, okay, this guy has no idea what he’s talking about. Not surprised.

“Sounds good but not today, I’m afraid, it’s been a long week with all this happening. I’ll let you know when I’m free!”

You made to move past him but the bastard couldn’t take a hint, moving into the room and, subsequently, closer to you.

“Let me take the stress off, I know a great steak place around the corner with the best wine. On me.”

His eyes glimmered and you froze, breathing sharply. What was happening? Why was he boxing you in? And why was this making you panic? You had a permanent job in one of the most dangerous countries in the world for christ’s sake! But this had never happened to you before… You tried to look past him to the door but the hallway was empty - you should have left earlier.

“You have such beautiful hair, how soft is it?”

You flinched as he ran a hand through it and you tried to make yourself look smaller, he cupped your cheek and tried for a soothing manner.

“One drink. You’re safe with me, I just want to show you what my city has to offer!”

You tried to push past him but an arm snaked around your waist.

“What is the matter with you? I know you western girls have a more liberal attitude and I’m the perfect choice for a night.”

As he leaned in even more, you heard footsteps moving closer. Oh thank god…

🐍

Minho had stayed longer than usual. He was handling some international calls and was lowkey trying to avoid running into you. As he left his office, shoes clicking and coat swishing, he noticed the light casting from your makeshift office. Groaning, he tried to hasten his steps so that you wouldn’t catch him but stilled when he heard a deeper voice. He couldn’t make it out but he recognised a hint of nerves in your replies. He walked forward quietly and when he realised who it was he snapped. He strode in and surveyed the scene. If it was consensual then this was very inappropriate - but it didn’t look like it. You were completely encircled by his arms and your head was down, seeming to be in fear. Cho was stroking your face and Minho saw red. He grabbed him by the neck and pulled him off you, face thunderous. When he was angry, he was dangerous. He never shouted or flaunted his ‘alpha male energy’. Instead, his voice was deadly calm and to the point. It slithered over your skin and seeped into your pores like poison. But oh, how he wanted to break this guy’s face right now.

“You never learn, do you?”

Cho tried to get out of his grip to no avail.

“What do you mean? We were just about to go for dinner!”

“The fuck you were. Leave. Now. And expect a call in the morning.”

He let Cho go who straightened up, face twisted into an ugly scowl.

“My, you really are a jealous bastard, aren’t you? Threatening to get me fired because she prefers my dick.”

Minho heard a whimper from behind him and swiftly pulled him close again, “Get the fuck out of here now before I do something I won’t regret. You’re done terrorising women.” He pushed him forcefully out the door and waited until he was sure he’d left. He pulled out his phone and dialed the man in charge, relaying the events. When he was sure it would be handled he turned around, finally taking you in. You were sagged against the wall, staring at the floor. He slowly moved towards you, careful to stay at a respectful distance.

🐍

“Are you all right?”

You realised it was over and the adrenaline left you, causing you to slide down the wall. You felt strong hands gripping your arms gently and looked up, staring into molten eyes.

“Just, let me, please.”

He released you and joined you on the floor, waiting for you to say something.

“Thank you.” Man, you were embarrassed. How many times would he have to bail you out of stressful situations? The guy didn’t even like you!

He hummed in response, eyes never leaving your face. You made to stand up but he stopped you.

“Have you eaten?”

You looked at him in surprise. How much worse could this get?

You managed to stand up and grab your bag. You felt him behind you.

“Don’t,” you muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Just, don’t. I don’t need your pity. I know you hate me and I’m going to cry if you keep this up.”

“What, I don’t hate you. Did Cho tell you that?”

You whirled around, fury coursing through you.

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t hate me? You glare at me, talk down to me, avoid me and criticise my clothing. I hate the look in your eyes when you see me…” Your face flushed in shame as your voice broke at the end of the sentence. You were giving away too much. You looked up and confirmed this as you noticed his jaw clenching.

“See? Like that.”

“I don’t hate you at all. You’re right about the way I treat you, I admit, but I’m doing it for the benefit of the both of us. Look, you don’t need this right now. Can I please order some food? I’m starving and I’m not leaving you alone.”

You stared at him numbly until he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry for how I’ve been acting. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your eyes started to water and, all of a sudden, you felt strong arms around you and a warm chest as you cried into it. You made a note to kick yourself later but it felt too good to resist. After a couple of minutes you lifted your head and he softly wiped at your cheeks with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Will you eat with me?”

You nodded your head and waited while he ordered.

🐍

Minho fetched the food and when he returned, he saw you sitting on the ground again. For some reason, you preferred it. He took off his jacket.

“Here.”

He made you move so that he could slide it under you. He sat next to you, still maintaining a distance, and opened the food containers. He made sure to keep his face open and friendly in order to make you feel safe but, if he were honest, he had never felt so frazzled in his life. He wanted to do a myriad of things - take an angry shower (brilliant for the soul), kill Cho and hold you. In no particular order. When he made sure that you were eating, he joined in. You ate in amiable silence for the most part until you didn’t.

“When?”

He furrowed his brows in confusion, “When what?”

“When did you come to Cairo to study my precio - the book?”

He hid a smile at your Freudian slip.

“It was about a year ago. I know the curator well, having been to Egypt a number of times and he knows all about my fascination with the afterlife. He called me as soon as it came in.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“I didn’t see you either.”

“Would it have changed anything if we’d met before?”

He looked down and hesitated to answer, this was unchartered waters.

“I don’t know,” he replied quietly.

You hummed and continued to eat.

“Why?”

Now it was your turn to appear confused.

“Why what?”

“Why do you keep moving?”

You thought about it for a second before replying. His eyes flickered to your lips and hung on when you started to speak.

“It started off as a way to escape my loneliness, keep busy, but then I fell in love with the lifestyle. Although, now I’m not sure it’s worth it anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m still lonely. For instance, right now, I’m still trying to figure out who to call in order to be comforted but I can’t think of anyone. It’s pathetic. I meet so many people but I never stay long enough to maintain meaningful relationships.”

His heart clenched, how could this brilliant woman not be loved? He related to it but he had an excuse - he was a cold bastard on the inside. What was yours?

“It’s not pathetic. Believe me, it’s not. I know exactly how you feel. Although, I have three beings who love me.”

Your heart raced as you looked at him for clarification - did he have someone? Was he not single? He noticed your stare and chuckled.

“My cats. They’re quite protective of me, you know.”

You grinned and wondered at your relief. Your next words sent him into laughter (though you didn’t know why it was funny).

“You sure they’re not just trying to smother you in your sleep?”

You nudged him and he nudged you back, slightly harder to showcase his strength, of course. How were you able to be so in tune and yet not understand what he felt for you? He recognised and accepted it now but it was not the time. It would probably never be the time. But as he watched you giggle at some of the things he said, he realised he was fucked.

🐍

As you both made to leave, he stayed close and you felt a firm hand on your lower back while he led you to the doors of the museum. The heat pulsed through your shirt and, instead of moving away, you embraced it. You felt safe. He took your number and made sure you were back at the hotel. You smiled at his message.

Let me know if you need anything - a shoulder, a punching bag, a coffee, anything. I’m here.

Despite the detente, not much had changed between you at work. Yes, the malice had softened but Minho still found you annoying and you still found him a prat. You still fought like cats and dogs with the staff watching with widened eyes or leaving the room. In fact, now, for some reason, it had escalated. There was a fire in your eyes and an aggressive attitude thrown around but you welcomed it. Relished it even. You always came away with a chest heaving and face flushed - panties wet too but you tried not to think about that too much. As soon as his eyes darkened and his mouth opened, you knew you were in for it. And you gave as good as you got.

“What can’t you understand about our dress code?!”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing!”

“It’s trousers for one! As a female employee, you should be in skirts! What happened to the one you were wearing on the first day? It was perfectly adequate!”

“You’re full of shit because that’s so archaic! If you have such a problem then YOU wear it! Sure it would go lovely with your toned calves!”

You realised you had just complimented him and he had thought your skirt was merely “adequate”. Your eyes narrowed as he smirked and you stormed off, determined to burn all the skirts you had brought with you - especially the black one.

Minho hoped you would wear that sexy little black skirt again. He was positively furious when he came to work and realised he couldn’t admire your legs while sipping his morning coffee. What was the point of even being there? He was elated, however, at the fact that you were also checking him out and vowed to wear his most fitted trousers from now on so that you could admire his other asset from behind. He chuckled as he walked off, his morning exercise complete.

🐍

It had been a few days and the tension steadily growing between you had now reached the point where it clogged your synapses. You couldn’t think straight and fumbled many requests, earning confused glances from people. It wasn’t your fault. At all. The bastard had been teasing you relentlessly with his smirks, his molten eyes and his touches. When he escorted you to the car (he still did that if he was in the building) that damned hand would rest on your lower back. When he moved past you in a room he would lightly place his hands on your waist. When he innocently asked you a question he would come up right behind you in the storeroom. You hated it. You loved it. You returned it. You would casually suck on the end of your pen in front of him, enjoying the way his eyes flickered. You’d wear your tightest blouse, a little cleavage bared and push past him lightly. You’d never acted this way before, judging women who did, but now you could see what all the fuss was about. It made him ravenous. You’d look up, seeing him drinking you in - absolutely devouring you in his frustration. There was only one way this could go.

And go, it did. You had approximately a week left when a group of you were in the storeroom, sorting out the files. Minho stepped in with an unreadable expression on his face. Here we go again.

“You didn’t do as I asked.”

You racked your brain but couldn’t understand his anger.

“I’m wearing the skirt, aren’t I?”

“This isn’t about the bloody skirt. I explicitly told you to wait before taking our data analysis to Dr Son!”

You realised he was pissed at not being included, as he had helped, but this was ridiculous.

“I didn’t have time to wait! I don’t have time! I leave in a week!”

The other people followed the usual protocol, leaving the room and shutting the door quietly.

“You always do this! Never listening to me, doing what you want. And you’re so fucking self-righteous when someone calls you out.”

He had stalked closer to you, slowly rounding the table you were standing behind. You had never seen him so angry before - was it really because of this or was there something else bothering him?

“Not my problem if you leave early, job too boring for you? Need some time to relax?”

“You are so used to working alone, not considering others. Maybe that’s why you don’t make any friends. Maybe it’s your fault.”

You jerked back at how carelessly he threw your greatest insecurity at you. You were seething to the point that you couldn’t feel the cupboard at your back. He had moved to stand right in front of you, waiting for your response.

“Fuck you, Mr Lee.”

He snarled and closed the gap between you, roughly pushing you even further into the cupboard. You gripped his arms to stay upright and he took that as a sign to smash his lips to yours. You started to push him away but then realised you didn’t want to. His lips were so soft and his hands were so violent, kneading into your waist with a vengeance. His fingers moved up to grip your hair and you moaned into his mouth. You bit into his lower lip and he hissed, gripping you even harder. He moved down and bit into your neck. Hard. You keened at the sharp jolt of pain, hips jerking forward.

“What the fuck are your doing?!”

He whispered harshly into your ear.

“You deserve it.”

You shook your head despite grinding down onto his thigh which had firmly pinned you in place. He grinned.

“You know you do. Tell me you deserve it.”

His hand had moved to stroke your nipple through your shirt and you sighed, only to yelp when that very hand suddenly cupped your cunt through your skirt.

“Admit it. Admit you deserve this treatment because of the way you’ve been behaving.”

Your brain fogged as he started rubbing slow circles over your panties. You needed this, you needed him. But the fucking bastard knew this and stopped his ministrations. You found yourself pathetically canting your hips forward again, rubbing your clit on his palm.He removed his hand and kept you in place by your neck. Fuck this guy.

“I deserve it,” you whispered in defeat. Fine, I’m a desperate slut for this man.

“Good girl. Now let’s see how wet you are.”

You knew you were at work and, despite it being late, you also knew there was a small chance of someone walking in. But you didn’t care. You just didn’t fucking care.

He pushed your panties to the side and dipped a finger in.

“God fucking damnit. The things you do to me…”

He panted next to your ear as he added another finger, fucking you with it. He swallowed your loud cries and you were helpless to take it. You felt the burn building in your belly and started to shake.

“That’s it. I knew you’d love this. Now, before you come, are you going to disrespect me like this again?”

You stubbornly glared back at him and he quickened his pace even more, pushing you to the edge.

“I’m waiting.”

You were on the brink of exploding and just as your eyes teared up, you shook your head. He sighed in satisfaction and bit your ear lobe, causing you to tumble. Your mouth fell open, little cries spilling from it. As you came down, he kissed his way to where your neck ached and soothed it with his tongue.

“There you go. Glad we agree on something.”

He sucked on his fingers and then pulled back slightly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

You scoffed and then offered him a smirk. He chuckled and gently tucked your hair behind your ear.

“Can I take you to dinner?”

“Okay.”

The rest of the week passed in a blur. Now that Minho had tasted you, he really dreaded your impending departure. He wasn’t ready to let you go - he felt a modicum of shame after what had happened, though. He felt betrayed when you didn’t include him in the meeting but he knew it was more than that. He didn’t want you to go and it was making him panic. He had never lost it with anyone that way before but you seemed to be into it which just made him despair even more - he would just have to enjoy it while it lasted. Luckily, you didn’t pretend it never happened - you sent him secret smiles and touched his hand when you were near. He took his chance and kissed you softly when no one was around. It was not enough. It was everything.

On the last day, the staff threw a party - Minho had made sure of this. He watched with affection as you were embraced by everyone, a crack fissuring his heart. He didn’t realise that many of the members were studying him, knowing how he felt. It was pretty obvious. Rachel sidled up to him.

“You okay there, Lee?”

He didn’t even bother asking her to clarify.

“No.”

“You know, she’s single.”

“Well, I’d bloody hope so!” He looked at her incredulously and she let out a satisfied laugh.

“I knew it. Well, what I’m trying to say is - what’s stopping you?”

“You do know she’ll be thousands of miles away, right?”

She shrugged and walked off, leaving him with narrowed eyes and a mind racing with possibilities. There was something he had been considering but it wouldn’t be a good idea - would it?

“You want to come over for a drink?”

He whipped his head around and was met with your shy smile - he wanted to melt.

“I’ve got a better idea, why not come to mine?”

Your eyes widened adorably and you nodded. You both stole away and he led you to his car, hand on your back as per usual.

When you entered his apartment you gasped - it was gorgeous. All dark colours and modern furnishings. Well, all modern except for the artwork. And figurines. And tapestries. He was clearly obsessed with your topic and here was the proof. You asked if a painting of the mourning Egyptian women was just a copy (to make sure) and he simply smiled in response. What the actual fuck.

You didn’t question it - not wanting to know - and continued browsing. As you studied the jars on the shelves, you came face to face with glinting eyes. Very real eyes. You jumped back and then laughed as you realised you had just met one of his cats.

“That’s Soonie. He gets quite jealous of the other decorations - needs to shine the most, you see.”

You smiled and held out a hand, letting the cat bump its head gently against it.

“Where are the other two?”

“Dori and Doongie tend to play hide and seek for the first couple hours after I’ve returned. They’ve been especially mad at my working hours lately.”

You realised his voice was closer than before, right behind you to be exact. His hands glided up your arms and he pushed your hair off your shoulders, laying soft kisses along your nape.

You let out a breath, “What happened to that drink?”

“Do you want one?”

“No.”

“Good.”

🐍

Minho marvelled at your naked form on his bed - he couldn’t believe his luck. Your curves were even more spectacular up close and he ripped his shirt off quickly. He saw your eyes drinking him in (understandable, of course) and made to crawl onto the bed but you stopped him.

“All of it, Lee.”

Who was in charge now?

He straightened back up and slowly shucked his trousers and pants off, eyes never leaving your face. He lazily stroked his cock, watching as your tongue flicked out against your bottom lip. You got on your knees and made your way over, clearly impatient to get your hands around him - well, that’s what he thought, at least, until he felt your sinful tongue drag across his length.

“Oh fuck, kitten.”

You whimpered at the nickname and a shiver of excitement zipped down his spine. He looked down to see your big eyes on him, sucking in your cheeks. This was better than any of his fantasies. He held your hair in a loose ponytail and helped you to leisurely bob your head, letting you up for air every now and then. You took him in deeper and his head fell back as a groan left him. You were phenomenal. Through his haze of pleasure he noticed you rubbing your thighs together for friction and pulled your mouth off of him.

He lay down on his back and motioned for you to turn around.

“Sit on my face.”

The excitement on your face was almost comical as you positioned your knees on either side of him, facing his cock. You gingerly lowered yourself but gasped when he roughly grasped your thighs and pulled you down onto his mouth.

🐍

The feeling was astronomical. His tongue started off softly, lapping at your glistening folds. This all changed when you bent over and took his hardened cock into your mouth again - his strokes became stronger and he licked into you, slipping his tongue deep inside you, scooping out your juices. As you sucked him harder, he penetrated you deeper and you both became even more frenzied - determined to get the other one there first. You lost after he suddenly pulled your clit between his lips, sucking on it in earnest. He popped out of you as you wailed loud and clear, stars bursting behind your eyelids, not caring about his neighbours. You made to take him back into your mouth but he lifted you off him and pulled you in for a kiss instead. He looked downright edible, mouth shining in the soft glow of the lamp. You ran your hands over his steel chest and watched his breath hitch.

You were about to ask for a glass of water when he rolled you onto your back, got onto his knees and yanked you up by your hips.

Oh, fuck me.

He sank into you slowly and you felt your eyes cross at the sensation. This position was unreal, he was large and pushed deep into your swollen and slick cunt. When he was fully sheathed he kissed the side of your knee, waiting for you to adjust.

“God, you’re perfect.”

The way those words dripped off his tongue had you squirming. How many times am I going to come tonight?

As he started thrusting steadily, you knew your answer. Many, many times.

🐍

Minho had never been so proud of his stamina. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, eyes rolling to the back of your head - how was he able to hold out for so long? He leaned forward and licked a thick stripe over your pink nipple, relishing your reaction. He nipped at the other one playfully and felt you clench around him - a low growl escaping the back of his throat at the sensation. He made sure to graze your g-spot consistently in that first position, causing you to come. He made sure to stimulate your clit when he took you on your side, causing you to climax. He made sure to place some pressure on your arse when taking you from behind, causing you to orgasm. And, when he took you in missionary, he made sure to maintain eye contact, causing you to reach your little death. He followed you to your demise. He kissed you tenderly as you calmed down, both of you conveying what you couldn’t admit to out loud.

He watched you drink water, hoping you wouldn’t leave. He noticed the nerves mirrored on your face and immediately cradled you in his arms.

“Will you stay the night, kitten?”

Your features relaxed and you leaned into his chest, breathing him in. He felt you nod and pulled the blanket over the both of you, settling down for the night.

Dawn broke over the horizon, taking your dreams with it. You felt your heart clench and your stomach lurch as you realised today was the day. How unfair was it to lose another person? At this point it was better for your health to never form relationships again. You looked over to the disgustingly attractive man next to you. His hair fluffed around him, rosy lips slightly open, chest rising and falling steadily, and a strong arm draped over you. He felt you move and his grip tightened, making you tear up. You stared up at the ceiling, preparing yourself for the inevitable.

“Morning.”

His husky, low voice was devastating - this may have been the sexiest, yet most endearing, sound you had ever heard.

“Did you sleep okay?”

“I did.”

“Good. Oh, found them.”

You followed his line of sight and saw two gorgeous cats curled around each other at the foot of the bed. They seemed to have no issue with you being there.

“They’re beautiful. I’m glad you’re not alone.”

He heard the waver in your tone and studied your features. He moved closer and cupped your face.

“What’s bothering you, kitten?”

You could see he knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway.

“I know it’s ridiculous, I mean, we’ve only done this once but… I already miss you.”

He stared at you and you started to doubt yourself - was it just a fling between you two?

“I’ve been meaning to talk about this.”

Oh no…

“It was brought to my attention that an exhibition has just opened at a certain museum in Cairo. Called “Exalted Spirits: The Veneration of the Dead in Egypt”. Sounds absolutely fascinating and I’m pretty sure Dr Son wants me to go scout it out. You know, for research.”

Your eyes glimmered in disbelief as you took this in. You knew about this exhibition, of course, but that would mean he would have had to look this up a while ago. As this sank in, you watched his head turn back to his cats.

He murmured in thought, “They worship cats there, don’t they?”

A smile spread across your features and you didn’t bother to correct his time period blunder because you were just too busy kissing him.