a/n: Think of this as an epilogue - if I get enough requests, I'll write the original, historical fic!
You trail your fingers along the glossy green leaves of the hedges, basking in the sunlight. The fresh scent of oranges always calms you this time of year, when the heat soaks into your skin and lights up your soul. You’ve spent all day in the lush garden of the Italian villa but how could you not? It’s the strangest thing - at this exact time every year, you find yourself at the same spot, the Villa Doria-Pamphili on the outskirts of Rome. And, at this exact time, you always find yourself empty when you leave. You can’t explain it but as you gaze around, taking in the gorgeous 15th century fountains, ancient Roman statues and rolling fields, you feel a sort of yearning. A longing for another time and another human. It’s almost as though you’ve been here in a different sense. You know things about this garden that others do not, your friends watch you with odd expressions as your eyes glimmer and your breath hitches. You feel yourself inhale deeply as you enter the huge and heavy stone gates - as though you are back to where it all began.
The sun is setting slowly now, the pinks and oranges settling over the skyline, and you do not find it within yourself to appreciate it. Once again, you are left with a sense of hopelessness. For what you are searching for, you don’t know. You just know that you did not find it. Your fingers reach down to lift your skirts in order to avoid a puddle but then you stop yourself. You’re wearing jeans, you always wear jeans - you’ve never even voluntarily worn a skirt for god’s sake! You may have to check in with your therapist when you get home but honestly, that woman is useless when it comes to your dilemma. Nothing she says ever sways you from your pilgrimage. Nothing anyone says ever changes your mind. You hate it but you wouldn’t be you without it. Deep down, you know this.
You look up at the palace, your heart sinking. The white marble walls beckon to you, flashing images of portrait galleries and scarlet-hued plush chaises. There is a bedroom with aquamarine silk hangings and an ivory-handled brush on the bureau. A cracked Dutch-style basin and a gilded mirror in front of the armoire. You know all this…and yet you don’t. Why? Because you’ve never been there. You’ve never been inside. You’ve never fallen down those slippery stairs, clinging to the balustrade in panic as your ankle rolled under you. Looking into warm, chocolate eyes as a man helps you up in the nick of time, white shirt billowing as he bends down to inspect you. Where did that come from? That last vision is new and it leaves you shaking. You realise you can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard. It chews you up, spits you out, and then you work to recover only to have it happen to you again.
As you turn to leave your life behind, you feel eyes on you. One pair, to be exact. It sends your heart racing and you snap your head up, ready to run from this intrusion. But when you lock eyes, your body freezes and your chest feels tight. There, in front of you, is a man. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Stylish, black slacks and a soft, white shirt, loosely buttoned up. You roam up - shiny black hair framing his face, lips plush and nose straight. He should have his hair tied up as it always suited him best, you muse, before catching yourself. What? But your inner monologue stops when you study his eyes. His whiskey eyes are curious as he studies you too. They narrow in concern and you realise you have tears trailing down your cheeks. You feel anguish. And happiness. It is an unspeakable experience. He steps forward and you feel strong yet smooth fingers softly stroke them away. He moves back immediately and stutters out an apology.
“Mi dispiace…”
“It’s okay,” you murmur. His eyes flash - in relief, you think - and he continues.
“I shouldn’t have done that…I don’t know why I did that. But I wanted to, I needed to. For some reason. This must make no sense to you.”
This familiar stranger is awkward with his words and it stirs something inside of you. A memory. A memory of being disturbed in these very gardens by this very man. It was night and everything was bathed in moonlight. You had just pushed your way out of the villa before your cousins could see your frustrations and you were blindly following the hedges. It was when you were sitting on a stone ledge leading to the fountains, angry tears streaming down your face, that this man had crossed your path. You should have been alarmed at being in his company alone but the way he had so sweetly apologised to you made you relax completely. It is the exact man standing in front of you now and yet, it cannot be either of you as the woman in the vision is wearing a constricting corset - oh how those bloody things hurt! - and the man is wearing an overcoat. But…
You can’t bring yourself to walk away, knowing that this would be the greatest mistake in your lifetime. It would all be for nothing. Every year, every trip, every heartbreak.You reach out a hand, inviting him to take it - he does. His fingers entwine with yours and your chest surges. The visions start up, clouding your mind and sight - of having long conversations in the library, of being protected against your family, of being pursued, of fervent kisses in the gardens, and of slow love-making sessions. You feel yourself encased in warm, comforting arms, shivering in his hold. You look up, he is openly crying now too. He cups your face and presses his lips softly against yours. It is familiar. It is relief and longing incarnate. It is him and it is you. Forehead resting against yours, he says the words that right your world.
“After all this time, we’ve come home.”
🖤 Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment with your thoughts!
a/n: Think of this as an epilogue - if I get enough requests, I'll write the original, historical fic!
You trail your fingers along the glossy green leaves of the hedges, basking in the sunlight. The fresh scent of oranges always calms you this time of year, when the heat soaks into your skin and lights up your soul. You’ve spent all day in the lush garden of the Italian villa but how could you not? It’s the strangest thing - at this exact time every year, you find yourself at the same spot, the Villa Doria-Pamphili on the outskirts of Rome. And, at this exact time, you always find yourself empty when you leave. You can’t explain it but as you gaze around, taking in the gorgeous 15th century fountains, ancient Roman statues and rolling fields, you feel a sort of yearning. A longing for another time and another human. It’s almost as though you’ve been here in a different sense. You know things about this garden that others do not, your friends watch you with odd expressions as your eyes glimmer and your breath hitches. You feel yourself inhale deeply as you enter the huge and heavy stone gates - as though you are back to where it all began.
The sun is setting slowly now, the pinks and oranges settling over the skyline, and you do not find it within yourself to appreciate it. Once again, you are left with a sense of hopelessness. For what you are searching for, you don’t know. You just know that you did not find it. Your fingers reach down to lift your skirts in order to avoid a puddle but then you stop yourself. You’re wearing jeans, you always wear jeans - you’ve never even voluntarily worn a skirt for god’s sake! You may have to check in with your therapist when you get home but honestly, that woman is useless when it comes to your dilemma. Nothing she says ever sways you from your pilgrimage. Nothing anyone says ever changes your mind. You hate it but you wouldn’t be you without it. Deep down, you know this.
You look up at the palace, your heart sinking. The white marble walls beckon to you, flashing images of portrait galleries and scarlet-hued plush chaises. There is a bedroom with aquamarine silk hangings and an ivory-handled brush on the bureau. A cracked Dutch-style basin and a gilded mirror in front of the armoire. You know all this…and yet you don’t. Why? Because you’ve never been there. You’ve never been inside. You’ve never fallen down those slippery stairs, clinging to the balustrade in panic as your ankle rolled under you. Looking into warm, chocolate eyes as a man helps you up in the nick of time, white shirt billowing as he bends down to inspect you. Where did that come from? That last vision is new and it leaves you shaking. You realise you can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard. It chews you up, spits you out, and then you work to recover only to have it happen to you again.
As you turn to leave your life behind, you feel eyes on you. One pair, to be exact. It sends your heart racing and you snap your head up, ready to run from this intrusion. But when you lock eyes, your body freezes and your chest feels tight. There, in front of you, is a man. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Stylish, black slacks and a soft, white shirt, loosely buttoned up. You roam up - shiny black hair framing his face, lips plush and nose straight. He should have his hair tied up as it always suited him best, you muse, before catching yourself. What? But your inner monologue stops when you study his eyes. His whiskey eyes are curious as he studies you too. They narrow in concern and you realise you have tears trailing down your cheeks. You feel anguish. And happiness. It is an unspeakable experience. He steps forward and you feel strong yet smooth fingers softly stroke them away. He moves back immediately and stutters out an apology.
“Mi dispiace…”
“It’s okay,” you murmur. His eyes flash - in relief, you think - and he continues.
“I shouldn’t have done that…I don’t know why I did that. But I wanted to, I needed to. For some reason. This must make no sense to you.”
This familiar stranger is awkward with his words and it stirs something inside of you. A memory. A memory of being disturbed in these very gardens by this very man. It was night and everything was bathed in moonlight. You had just pushed your way out of the villa before your cousins could see your frustrations and you were blindly following the hedges. It was when you were sitting on a stone ledge leading to the fountains, angry tears streaming down your face, that this man had crossed your path. You should have been alarmed at being in his company alone but the way he had so sweetly apologised to you made you relax completely. It is the exact man standing in front of you now and yet, it cannot be either of you as the woman in the vision is wearing a constricting corset - oh how those bloody things hurt! - and the man is wearing an overcoat. But…
You can’t bring yourself to walk away, knowing that this would be the greatest mistake in your lifetime. It would all be for nothing. Every year, every trip, every heartbreak.You reach out a hand, inviting him to take it - he does. His fingers entwine with yours and your chest surges. The visions start up, clouding your mind and sight - of having long conversations in the library, of being protected against your family, of being pursued, of fervent kisses in the gardens, and of slow love-making sessions. You feel yourself encased in warm, comforting arms, shivering in his hold. You look up, he is openly crying now too. He cups your face and presses his lips softly against yours. It is familiar. It is relief and longing incarnate. It is him and it is you. Forehead resting against yours, he says the words that right your world.
“After all this time, we’ve come home.”
🖤 Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment with your thoughts!
a/n: Think of this as an epilogue - if I get enough requests, I'll write the original, historical fic!
You trail your fingers along the glossy green leaves of the hedges, basking in the sunlight. The fresh scent of oranges always calms you this time of year, when the heat soaks into your skin and lights up your soul. You’ve spent all day in the lush garden of the Italian villa but how could you not? It’s the strangest thing - at this exact time every year, you find yourself at the same spot, the Villa Doria-Pamphili on the outskirts of Rome. And, at this exact time, you always find yourself empty when you leave. You can’t explain it but as you gaze around, taking in the gorgeous 15th century fountains, ancient Roman statues and rolling fields, you feel a sort of yearning. A longing for another time and another human. It’s almost as though you’ve been here in a different sense. You know things about this garden that others do not, your friends watch you with odd expressions as your eyes glimmer and your breath hitches. You feel yourself inhale deeply as you enter the huge and heavy stone gates - as though you are back to where it all began.
The sun is setting slowly now, the pinks and oranges settling over the skyline, and you do not find it within yourself to appreciate it. Once again, you are left with a sense of hopelessness. For what you are searching for, you don’t know. You just know that you did not find it. Your fingers reach down to lift your skirts in order to avoid a puddle but then you stop yourself. You’re wearing jeans, you always wear jeans - you’ve never even voluntarily worn a skirt for god’s sake! You may have to check in with your therapist when you get home but honestly, that woman is useless when it comes to your dilemma. Nothing she says ever sways you from your pilgrimage. Nothing anyone says ever changes your mind. You hate it but you wouldn’t be you without it. Deep down, you know this.
You look up at the palace, your heart sinking. The white marble walls beckon to you, flashing images of portrait galleries and scarlet-hued plush chaises. There is a bedroom with aquamarine silk hangings and an ivory-handled brush on the bureau. A cracked Dutch-style basin and a gilded mirror in front of the armoire. You know all this…and yet you don’t. Why? Because you’ve never been there. You’ve never been inside. You’ve never fallen down those slippery stairs, clinging to the balustrade in panic as your ankle rolled under you. Looking into warm, chocolate eyes as a man helps you up in the nick of time, white shirt billowing as he bends down to inspect you. Where did that come from? That last vision is new and it leaves you shaking. You realise you can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard. It chews you up, spits you out, and then you work to recover only to have it happen to you again.
As you turn to leave your life behind, you feel eyes on you. One pair, to be exact. It sends your heart racing and you snap your head up, ready to run from this intrusion. But when you lock eyes, your body freezes and your chest feels tight. There, in front of you, is a man. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Stylish, black slacks and a soft, white shirt, loosely buttoned up. You roam up - shiny black hair framing his face, lips plush and nose straight. He should have his hair tied up as it always suited him best, you muse, before catching yourself. What? But your inner monologue stops when you study his eyes. His whiskey eyes are curious as he studies you too. They narrow in concern and you realise you have tears trailing down your cheeks. You feel anguish. And happiness. It is an unspeakable experience. He steps forward and you feel strong yet smooth fingers softly stroke them away. He moves back immediately and stutters out an apology.
“Mi dispiace…”
“It’s okay,” you murmur. His eyes flash - in relief, you think - and he continues.
“I shouldn’t have done that…I don’t know why I did that. But I wanted to, I needed to. For some reason. This must make no sense to you.”
This familiar stranger is awkward with his words and it stirs something inside of you. A memory. A memory of being disturbed in these very gardens by this very man. It was night and everything was bathed in moonlight. You had just pushed your way out of the villa before your cousins could see your frustrations and you were blindly following the hedges. It was when you were sitting on a stone ledge leading to the fountains, angry tears streaming down your face, that this man had crossed your path. You should have been alarmed at being in his company alone but the way he had so sweetly apologised to you made you relax completely. It is the exact man standing in front of you now and yet, it cannot be either of you as the woman in the vision is wearing a constricting corset - oh how those bloody things hurt! - and the man is wearing an overcoat. But…
You can’t bring yourself to walk away, knowing that this would be the greatest mistake in your lifetime. It would all be for nothing. Every year, every trip, every heartbreak.You reach out a hand, inviting him to take it - he does. His fingers entwine with yours and your chest surges. The visions start up, clouding your mind and sight - of having long conversations in the library, of being protected against your family, of being pursued, of fervent kisses in the gardens, and of slow love-making sessions. You feel yourself encased in warm, comforting arms, shivering in his hold. You look up, he is openly crying now too. He cups your face and presses his lips softly against yours. It is familiar. It is relief and longing incarnate. It is him and it is you. Forehead resting against yours, he says the words that right your world.
“After all this time, we’ve come home.”
🖤 Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment with your thoughts!
a/n: Think of this as an epilogue - if I get enough requests, I'll write the original, historical fic!
You trail your fingers along the glossy green leaves of the hedges, basking in the sunlight. The fresh scent of oranges always calms you this time of year, when the heat soaks into your skin and lights up your soul. You’ve spent all day in the lush garden of the Italian villa but how could you not? It’s the strangest thing - at this exact time every year, you find yourself at the same spot, the Villa Doria-Pamphili on the outskirts of Rome. And, at this exact time, you always find yourself empty when you leave. You can’t explain it but as you gaze around, taking in the gorgeous 15th century fountains, ancient Roman statues and rolling fields, you feel a sort of yearning. A longing for another time and another human. It’s almost as though you’ve been here in a different sense. You know things about this garden that others do not, your friends watch you with odd expressions as your eyes glimmer and your breath hitches. You feel yourself inhale deeply as you enter the huge and heavy stone gates - as though you are back to where it all began.
The sun is setting slowly now, the pinks and oranges settling over the skyline, and you do not find it within yourself to appreciate it. Once again, you are left with a sense of hopelessness. For what you are searching for, you don’t know. You just know that you did not find it. Your fingers reach down to lift your skirts in order to avoid a puddle but then you stop yourself. You’re wearing jeans, you always wear jeans - you’ve never even voluntarily worn a skirt for god’s sake! You may have to check in with your therapist when you get home but honestly, that woman is useless when it comes to your dilemma. Nothing she says ever sways you from your pilgrimage. Nothing anyone says ever changes your mind. You hate it but you wouldn’t be you without it. Deep down, you know this.
You look up at the palace, your heart sinking. The white marble walls beckon to you, flashing images of portrait galleries and scarlet-hued plush chaises. There is a bedroom with aquamarine silk hangings and an ivory-handled brush on the bureau. A cracked Dutch-style basin and a gilded mirror in front of the armoire. You know all this…and yet you don’t. Why? Because you’ve never been there. You’ve never been inside. You’ve never fallen down those slippery stairs, clinging to the balustrade in panic as your ankle rolled under you. Looking into warm, chocolate eyes as a man helps you up in the nick of time, white shirt billowing as he bends down to inspect you. Where did that come from? That last vision is new and it leaves you shaking. You realise you can’t do this anymore. It’s too hard. It chews you up, spits you out, and then you work to recover only to have it happen to you again.
As you turn to leave your life behind, you feel eyes on you. One pair, to be exact. It sends your heart racing and you snap your head up, ready to run from this intrusion. But when you lock eyes, your body freezes and your chest feels tight. There, in front of you, is a man. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Stylish, black slacks and a soft, white shirt, loosely buttoned up. You roam up - shiny black hair framing his face, lips plush and nose straight. He should have his hair tied up as it always suited him best, you muse, before catching yourself. What? But your inner monologue stops when you study his eyes. His whiskey eyes are curious as he studies you too. They narrow in concern and you realise you have tears trailing down your cheeks. You feel anguish. And happiness. It is an unspeakable experience. He steps forward and you feel strong yet smooth fingers softly stroke them away. He moves back immediately and stutters out an apology.
“Mi dispiace…”
“It’s okay,” you murmur. His eyes flash - in relief, you think - and he continues.
“I shouldn’t have done that…I don’t know why I did that. But I wanted to, I needed to. For some reason. This must make no sense to you.”
This familiar stranger is awkward with his words and it stirs something inside of you. A memory. A memory of being disturbed in these very gardens by this very man. It was night and everything was bathed in moonlight. You had just pushed your way out of the villa before your cousins could see your frustrations and you were blindly following the hedges. It was when you were sitting on a stone ledge leading to the fountains, angry tears streaming down your face, that this man had crossed your path. You should have been alarmed at being in his company alone but the way he had so sweetly apologised to you made you relax completely. It is the exact man standing in front of you now and yet, it cannot be either of you as the woman in the vision is wearing a constricting corset - oh how those bloody things hurt! - and the man is wearing an overcoat. But…
You can’t bring yourself to walk away, knowing that this would be the greatest mistake in your lifetime. It would all be for nothing. Every year, every trip, every heartbreak.You reach out a hand, inviting him to take it - he does. His fingers entwine with yours and your chest surges. The visions start up, clouding your mind and sight - of having long conversations in the library, of being protected against your family, of being pursued, of fervent kisses in the gardens, and of slow love-making sessions. You feel yourself encased in warm, comforting arms, shivering in his hold. You look up, he is openly crying now too. He cups your face and presses his lips softly against yours. It is familiar. It is relief and longing incarnate. It is him and it is you. Forehead resting against yours, he says the words that right your world.
“After all this time, we’ve come home.”
🖤 Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment with your thoughts!
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.
Synopsis: Caught in a stressful situation, you do the only thing you can think of - texting your friend's older brother, Chan. However, was that really the better option?
General Warnings: Smut (specifics under the cut), unwilling drug use and comedown, swearing
Word count: 10.5k
Strayerthings Masterlist
a/n: Hey readers! Long time no see - hope your holidays were fantastic. As promised, I'm releasing this in January. Please let me know your thoughts and don't forget to reblog! There is a sensitive scene filled with macho bullshit at the start but it doesn't last long. I must say, writing for Chan is always such a ride. Anyways, enjoy! 🖤🌻
“Look at Y/n for example, she’s hot but also a gaming nerd obsessed with Kpop so she hardly gets any. We should be going after girls like that since they’re not the sluts showing their tits on OnlyFans.”
You slid further into the couch, trying to make yourself look small. Your mind was a haze and you could hardly stand up for yourself like you normally would. Your colleague was making the most ridiculous, sexist statements that screamed ‘Andrew Tate’ but all you could do was try and hide your shaking nerves. It had gotten so bad that your teeth were chattering. Jack had always been nice to you and you thought he was a solid guy but a different side was brought out when he revealed the party favours. You had accepted the invitation to his house warming without worrying about what the night would hold - your plan was to show up, act impressed at the large space, have one drink and then bounce. It couldn’t have been further from the truth because now you were sitting in a room with around six people, coming down from the coke they had pressured you into taking (you were too inebriated to say no) and he was spouting all this bullshit about how women were always out to get each other and kissing you all over your face. The more invasive he got about your body, your sex life and the inferiority of women, the more you froze up. You had never felt so unsafe before so you stumbled to the bathroom, trying to think fast - who could you message to come get you? It was 3 am in the city and most people were either too drunk or asleep. Who could you count on to always answer the phone? Who would you feel safe with whilst coming down? The questions were racing through your brain and you were about to give up when a name hit you square in the face. He was here. You thought hard about this - he had arrived the previous day and you hadn’t seen him in years. Would you really want your friend’s older brother seeing you high? Yes, you had kept in touch over the years - he had even gotten you a VIP ticket at a discount price - but this was too much. Suddenly, a knocking startled you out of your reverie.
“Y/n?”
It was Jack.
“What are you doing in there? Do another line with us because you’re looking way too sober, you can stay over!”
Oh fuck no.
You texted Chan.
You didn’t know how much time had passed - perched miserably on the couch, staring into space when a banging was heard over the music. The others looked at each other warily and a girl proceeded to open the door, widening her eyes. In strode a medium-length, broad-chested man wearing a tight black t-shirt, ripped jeans and a black cap pulled low over his face. His silver earring glinted in the soft lighting. He tipped his head at her slightly and then looked up, serious eyes searching for something. When they landed on you, his jaw clenched. Hard. You struggled to focus but you were pretty sure you looked wrecked. Crossing the room, he knelt down at your side, glaring at the guy next to you who shifted further away.
“Y/n.”
“Channie,” you breathed out, relief etched across your features.
He cupped your cheek softly and sucked in a breath, finally taking note of the situation. When he saw the white lines of powder on the mirror in the middle of the table, his head whipped back to you with a questioning frown - you could only nod in response, too ashamed to admit to it verbally. His frown deepened and you instinctively cowered back in response - why did you think it was a good idea to text him? But, as if he knew what you were thinking, he grabbed your hand and rubbed soothing circles into the back of it, trying his best to school his expression.
“Knew it was too good to be true.”
Why couldn’t he just shut up? Chan shifted himself so that he was facing the rest of the room, scowl deepening with every second.
“What?”
Jack eyed him from where he was pacing, “I said it was too good to be true. Here I was, thinking that Y/n was so innocent - I was actually telling her to go to Korea to hook up before she grows old in order to satisfy her curiosity. With that hair, those tits and face - they would definitely notice her! But I had no idea she had already found herself one. Careful, Y/n, don’t turn into one of those loose bitches.”
There was so much to unpack here and your eyes widened in horror, frustrated tears pooling in your eyes. How dare this asshole speak about a culture like that? All you did was appreciate Kpop, the fact that he had implied it was a fetish for you had your brain spiraling. You didn’t even care about the remarks about your body - he had insinuated that you were sleeping with Chan and that you were only sleeping with him because he was Korean. You didn’t know where to look, humiliated and furious beyond belief. You opened your mouth, about to rip him a new one, but the man next to you had stood up, hands balled lightly into fists and eyes stern.
“Say one more thing to her and I’ll tear your head off.”
You couldn’t look up, too anxious to lift your head but the tone of his voice sent a ripple of fear through you. You could see it mirrored in the others’ faces because they immediately grabbed Jack and whispered in his ear. He casually sat down with a grin.
“I’m just messing around, man, what you do with your free time is not my problem. You sound like you’re from around here - have a line with us, let’s chat. What’s your type?”
Oh, this guy was deranged. Chan turned to you again, trying to meet your eyes in order to assess the damage. When he saw the panic he gently helped you up, pushing past the others with an arm around your shoulders. He silently led you down the stairs and while you waited for an uber, he held you close. You shook in his warmth, his strong arms encircling you - you were too embarrassed to look at him and he knew this so he whispered soothing words into your ear. He helped you into the car and when the driver set off, he started to talk.
“You all right?”
You studiously avoided him and he gently touched your hand, waiting a while before trying again.
“Y/n, look at me.”
You sighed and looked at him from the corner of your eye. He noticed something outside the window and straightened up.
“We can talk inside.”
Inside? You saw that you were entering an underground carpark of a hotel and turned to face him fully with an eyebrow cocked.
“You can’t honestly believe I would drop you off at your place after all that’s happened, right? Especially in this condition…” His voice had softened and he was back to stroking your hand. You just blinked and turned away again, feeling his hand retract.
When the car stopped, he opened the door for you, guiding you in with a gentle hand on the small of your back. He pulled out a keycard and you were ushered into an elevator. A thought struck you and you forced out a hushed question.
“Chan, we’re not going to your room, are we? What if the others found out?”
“Don’t worry, I booked another room as soon as you texted.”
Oh. You felt something that you couldn’t identify. Why would he do all this for you? Where was the boy who would push you into the pool as kids, who’d lock you out the house when you came over? You studied him surreptitiously - at least, you thought you were discreet. It had been years since you’d last seen him - you had obviously seen photos and videos, being a fan of their music, but nothing compared to the real thing. His shoulders had broadened, his face had become more defined and the look in his eyes had matured. When did his arms turn into those? Even in your beaten down state, you could appreciate this evolution. But you shook your head, you would not think of him like that. You hadn’t really spoken to his sister since you grew apart in first year but it was still slightly odd to find her brother attractive. You’d had a puppy crush on him back then but wasn’t that normal? It didn’t feel normal right now. You felt like a creep and tried not to let your admiration show. He and Lily only had a few years between them and you used to go over there quite often as kids which is why you had exchanged the odd message every couple years or so. He must have seen you as the annoyance of his childhood - especially now. He led you to your room at the end of the corridor, keeping his hand on you. You wished he would let go and just step back.
When you were inside he turned to you.
“Have a seat and I’ll be right back.”
You grabbed his hand as he tried to walk past you, silently asking him not to leave you. He removed his hand carefully and cupped your face, murmuring, “Don’t worry, I’m just getting you some clothes. Take a shower and I’ll be back before you know it.”
You slowly nodded and took a deep breath, watching him leave then you looked around. The room was magnificent. Everything was lit up in a soft, golden glow and the furniture was plush and new. The bed was monstrous and looked like you would sink straight into the mattress. But none of that registered with you - you felt disgusting. A dark cloud of insecurity had settled over you, chilling you to the bone. You had never done that particular drug before but the comedown was bleak. You felt so vulnerable, convinced that no one would be there for you. If Chan hadn’t been in the country, how would this night have ended? The chill had numbed you, made you apathetic - you were upset but couldn’t get the emotion out. You wandered into the bathroom, hoping the heat from the shower would warm you up and get you to feel something.
A soft knock on the door had you startling out of your thought process. Chan’s voice came through, telling you he had left the clothes outside the bathroom. You heard his footsteps retreat back into the room. When had he gotten back? You realised you’d been in the shower for a while, trying to get the heat back into your bones but it hadn’t worked. You felt cold. Cold and alone. You wrapped a towel around your shivering shoulders and cracked the door open, swiping an arm out for the clothing. You pulled on the navy blue t-shirt which was wonderfully baggy and settled on your thighs but the pyjama trousers were way too uncomfortable so you decided to forgo those. You were now faced with a dilemma - do you don your underwear or do you go commando in order to separate yourself from the night’s events? You skipped the panties. The shirt was so long that he wouldn’t notice anyway - at least, you hoped not.
You exited the room, still feeling nothing but the biting cold. Chan was settled on a champagne coloured armchair on the other side of the room, freshly showered and dressed in a black t-shirt and soft, cotton shorts. His dark hair was still damp and he was busy running his hand through it, looking tired. As soon as he saw you he froze, eyes raking down your bare legs. You almost felt a spark. Almost. When he noticed you shudder, he nodded towards the bedside table closest to him where a steaming cup of tea sat. You gingerly walked around the bed to his side and opened the duvet, sliding into the bed and propping yourself up against the headboard as gracefully as possible - your mind was still numb yet full of images, you needed this cloying frost to dissipate.
“Y/n.”
You lifted your mouth from the cup, sighing in defeat as the hot water still did nothing for your nerves. You wanted to scream but the emotion was so deeply embedded into your chest that you couldn’t claw it out.
“Y/n.”
You met his gaze timidly. He was bent over, resting his elbows on his muscular thighs to be closer to you and you took in every detail. Tired but warm eyes, curly hair, prominent nose and a plush mouth. A plush mouth that was pulled down in a concerned grimace. Again, you almost felt something stir.
“How are you feeling?”
You cleared your throat and willed yourself to speak but only a whisper was heard, “Better now, thanks to you.”
He narrowed his eyes but did not refute you.
“What happened tonight?”
“I went to a housewarming party and took drugs, that’s all.” You couldn’t bear to go into details, it was all too raw.
“Did you accept the coke willingly?”
You thought about it, did you consent? To be honest, you couldn’t remember much of how it started.
“Well, I didn’t say no…”
“Were you drunk when they offered you some?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever taken it before?”
“No.”
“Fuck.”
“I’m sorry..”
Chan snapped his head up from where he had been glaring at the floor and looked at you in confusion, “For what?”
You didn’t want to talk about it but knew you had to since you owed him that much, “For what he said. About you. You have to know - that isn’t - I would never…” Chan made a furious noise at the back of his throat.
“Don’t apologise for that asshole! You have nothing to feel guilty about - how long have we known each other? I know you. You have a kind and beautiful soul. God, when he said those things about you, about your body - I thought I was going to have to bury a corpse. You don’t go near him again, got it?”
You didn’t respond, looking down at your hands until you felt him remove your cup.
“Hey. Don’t cry, I’m here now - you’re safe.” You hadn’t even registered the icy droplets running down your cheeks. He grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes, “How are you feeling? Are you sober?”
You numbly nodded your head and stated in a small voice, “I can’t feel anything except the cold - I can’t warm up.”
“Here, move up.” He slipped into the bed and tugged you down, coaxing you into turning on your side and wrapping his arms around you - effectively spooning you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you finally felt a spark of heat run up your back. Turns out, you needed to feel safe in order to heat up. But it was still not enough. Chan felt you shiver and pulled you closer, not an inch of space between you. He then started talking in order to distract you.
“Are you still a horror fanatic?”
“What?”
“I remember you and Lily being obsessed with those god-awful movies about possession and zombies - remember thinking, how could these munchkins enjoy that stuff? But then, your true colours revealed themselves and I was more terrified of you two, to be honest.”
You chuckled weakly along with him and bit back, “Hey, it’s not my fault you were scared of your own shadow - you made it way too easy to get back at you for all the times you’d bully us.” He shifted behind you with a sound of incredulity, “Excuse me, how was I able to be the bully when two vicious girls were ganging up on me all the time. If anything, I’m the victim here.” He giggled, hugging you tighter instinctively and you bit back a gasp. His face was now buried in your neck and you suddenly lost the ability to breathe.
“Do you ever talk to Lily?” He murmured against your skin.
Sighing, you felt yourself grow sad again. “No… I let us drift at uni, didn’t make enough effort with all the shit I had going on. I feel so guilty, she must hate -” He cut you off, turning you to face him.
“Hey. No, she doesn’t. I know my sister and she has a tendency to get swept up in her own life, she is just as much to blame and she’ll come around if you reach out. Besides, no one could ever hate you.”
He stared into your eyes for a couple seconds and you felt yourself heat up some more. But it was still not enough. The frost would dissipate for a few moments and then insidiously pull you back in again. At this point, you didn’t know what to do and he must have recognised the insecurity in your eyes because he gently brushed your hair away from your face.
“Y/n…” he breathed. “What’s up?”
Your lip trembled.
“I’m so cold.”
“Still?”
The frustration pulled at his features as his mind raced. He entwined his legs with yours and stroked your hair and then… And then he softly pressed his full lips against your forehead, lingering. The warmth trickled from that point all the way to your toes and you let out a relieved sigh. He took note and rested his forehead against yours - the calm gradually stretched until it twisted into something else, something heavy. It built until he tilted your face up slowly but instead of stopping there, he searched your eyes carefully and found whatever he was looking for because his own widened and you felt his heart race as he pressed his nose against yours.
You felt dizzy but this was the boost of emotion you were chasing so you closed the distance and brushed your lips against his. It wasn’t fireworks, not by a long shot. It was the comfort you needed which was a million times better. You moved slowly in tandem, experimentally angling your heads and applying different degrees of pressure - when you accepted his silky tongue he melted into your mouth, hand moving down to your hip.
You couldn’t believe this was happening - kissing Channie after all these years was never on the agenda. You were so lost in your head that when he made a strangled noise and pulled back, staring at you in a panic, you were thoroughly confused. Did you do something wrong? Were you a bad kisser?
“You’re not wearing any underwear!”
Oh. Right. Fuck.
You looked down quickly, realising he had been stroking your naked hip under the shirt. Where his fingers trailed, a line of fire was left in their wake - the desire was clogging your throat. Not enough. He made to disentangle himself but you weren’t about to let that happen so you pulled him back, swinging your leg over his hip, grinding up against his clothed erection. You both keened hard into each other’s mouths, caught up in the situation. The frosty darkness had started to seep from you entirely and you felt the knot unravel in your chest but all of a sudden, Chan pulled back, panic flitting across his face again. His chest was heaving in exertion and something else, you weren’t sure what.
“We can’t… we can’t do this.”
“Why!” Your outburst shocked the both of you but you didn’t care. Anything to feel. Anything to get rid of the gnawing ache of fear inside of you.
“Please, Chan, please, I need this. I need to feel warm, I need to feel safe, I need to get rid of this pain, I can’t….” You didn’t even notice the tears running down your face in absolute devastation. He quickly moved back in and cupped your face, whispering, “Hey, sshh, sweetheart, you’re okay. You’re okay. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
You quietened down, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he gently pushed you onto your back and caged you in. He lifted up to rip his shirt off and then leaned back over you, bringing his lips down to yours. When you tried to remove yours too, however, he grabbed your wrists to stop you.
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing this my way.” Never breaking eye contact, he parted your legs and settled between them. He brushed your hair to the side and when he started to softly suck a mark into your neck, his hips started rolling. And rolling. And rolling.
“Fuck, Channie!”
You were in agony. There was so much, almost too much. His strong arms kept you close, the heat from his shining chest washing over you - you were separated by the thin layer of his cotton shorts but nothing could prevent you from feeling his enormous, leaking member grinding against your pulsing clit. You begged to remove your shirt but he wouldn’t let you, hands staying over the material - he didn’t even caress your breasts. You couldn’t worry about it though, not when he was giving it to you so good.
“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” you panted against his skin to which he groaned a response.
“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby?” He started sucking harsher marks onto your collar bones, speeding up his movements.
“Cum for me, sweetheart.”
The orgasm ripped through you - it was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the fire spread over you, burning everything in its wake.
You were finally safe.
When he was sure you had come down from your high, he lifted his head, looking at you. Simply looking at you with blown pupils and you had no idea what he was thinking but, at that moment, you didn’t mind. He kissed you sweetly and rolled off you, spooning you again. Before you drifted off, you heard a faint murmur into your hair.
“Good night, baby girl.”
The sun was high in the sky when you woke up. When you woke up alone in a hotel room, to be exact. You tried to rack your brain in your sleepy state and it took you a few moments but boy, did it pay off when the memories came rushing back. Chan had brought you here. Chan had brought you here and you’d had dry sex. But wait… You sat up swiftly. Where did he go? Did he not enjoy it? You remembered your mindblowing orgasm but couldn’t remember his. Oh god. You had embarrassed yourself. You had begged him to fuck you and he hadn’t even enjoyed it. You had taken advantage of him in your desperate state and it was a pity fuck. Quite frankly, you wanted to disappear. As you turned around to bury yourself into the pillow, two foreign items on the bedside table caught your eye - a coffee cup and a paper bag. There was no note. Good old Chan, despite thinking you were pathetic, he still took care of you. You grabbed your phone off the table, checking for messages but none were from him. What was interesting was the notification you received about a concert that night - a certain Stray Kids concert you would be attending as a VIP. You sucked in a deep breath and then let out a huge..
“FUCK!”
“What’s he staring at?”
“I don’t think it’s a what, I think it’s a who.”
“I can hear you.”
Chan turned around from where he had been standing backstage and the two who had been observing him, Hyunjin and Jisung, took the opportunity to sneak around him. They craned their necks as they located the object of his scrutiny. The smaller crowd had walked in to see their soundcheck and so it was easy to spot you.
“Ahhhh is that the girl you raced to help last night, Ch-rizz-topher?”
“Ooh I can see why, she’s hot!”
“Shut the fuck up, Hyunjin.” Chan rubbed his temple and stared at you again, brows furrowing as he noticed a young guy lead you to your seat, hand on your lower back. He couldn’t blame him though - you looked amazing. You were wearing a tight contraption in your skin colour with red outlines tucked into black jeans, and a black leather jacket thrown over. The corset gave the impression that your torso was bare with blazing streaks across your body and he visibly twitched. Why did you have to wear that? The guilt was eating away at him already.
“What are you guys staring at?” Minho and Changbin had just joined the fray.
“Chan-hyung’s girl!”
Minho moved closer, “The girl from last night? She’s hot.”
Changbin eagerly nodded along and Chan could feel his blood pressure rising.
“Guys, she is not my girl. Simply Lily’s friend who needed help.”
“Hey Seungmin! Check out Chan-hyung’s hot girlfriend who happens to be Lily’s friend!”
“Jesus Christ, Jeongin!”
Chan had had enough. He couldn’t have this distracting them right now. They were about to go onstage in a city near his home and they needed to focus. He decided it would be best for everyone if he ignored you so, squaring his shoulders, he said something that he thought would end the discussion.
“She’s like a sister to me.”
“So you mean she’s available? OW, WHAT THE FU-”
You were right. You had embarrassed yourself last night. There were a number of factors that led up to this conclusion. Firstly, he hadn’t texted you since the incident. You chalked it up to his schedule but you were slightly hurt by the notion that he didn’t want to check up on you. Despite your mortification, you had dressed up really nicely - you weren’t sure why as you would not let it get to you. He was just busy. But now, as he walked down the stage, right past you, he kept his eyes carefully trained away from you. You knew he was aware of you, it was obvious by the way his jaw was clenched. You sighed inwardly - this was awful. Would you get the chance to apologise or would he shut you out completely? At this thought, your throat closed up but you were getting ahead of yourself. One step at a time.
The concert was incredible. You had never had so much fun in your life despite feeling the underlying stress of the situation. The boys were so talented and gorgeous. You admired Chan and even though you knew you shouldn’t, the events of the previous night flitted through your mind. When he hugged Minho tightly from behind, you felt his arms around you too - soothing you to sleep. When he brushed the hair from Felix’s eyes, you felt his featherlight touch as he dried your tears. When he lifted his shirt you were reminded of the smooth, hard muscles rippling under your fingertips as he brought you to your demise; and when he turned around, you remembered the firmness of that ass, clenching in your grip. Fuck - this was not happening. You were not growing feelings for him, were you? He had simply helped you out platonically and the way he was ignoring you proved that. But you found yourself questioning everything when he pulled his tight pants lower surreptitiously, showing his happy trail and briefs. You saw him look at other girls and your heart dropped - his dimple was on full display for everyone but you… You were shaken from your maudlin thoughts, however, when the other members drew your attention. They seemed to have taken quite a shine to you, completing hearts and throwing big smiles your way. It didn’t seem like a coincidence by the way that Chan visibly tensed up and pulled Hyunjin away from your side of the stage or smacked Changbin over the head when he sat down and stared at you during a speech. How much did they know? They were quite obviously getting a rise out of him and you were kind of enjoying it immensely. You were about to give up hope completely until something finally happened. It was during Red Lights. Chan was directly in front of you when he was doing his floor work and when he lifted himself up somewhat, his eyes locked with yours. You felt the air escape your lungs. The way his revealing jacket gleamed in the red spotlight, making his firm chest glow; the way the sweat trailed down his neck; the way his pretty pink mouth parted. All that made you dizzy but what had you wet was his stare. His stare. The way his dark eyes drove into you, the way his brows furrowed in consternation. You couldn’t decipher what he was feeling but you needed him. You hoped he craved you too. You were royally screwed.
The members were backstage while the audience was watching a video, getting ready for the final number. Minho saw Chan nervously darting his eyes to the wall, as if he had suddenly received the gift of X-ray vision. Chuckling lightly, he rested his chin on his shoulder and proceeded to play the part of the devil.
“How you doing?”
“Fine.”
“She’s alone here, right?”
“Yeah. Wait, I mean, I think so?”
“She staying at the hotel again?”
“How did you know where she stayed?” Chan turned to him in confusion. Minho merely smirked which annoyed him further and he turned back around, moving to catch a glimpse of you. His second in command zeroed in again.
“So? She coming with us?”
“No.” Chan grit his teeth, wanting nothing more to do with the situation. Nothing more to do with you.
“But… how will she get home? You can’t expect her to wait outside, in the cold, in the dark, alone, for a random taxi?”
Chan faltered at that. What kind of person would he be if he left you alone without checking up on you? He thought back to how small, vulnerable, scared you looked sitting on that couch and his heart clenched, the anger stirred. He still had your room since he didn’t know how much time you needed to rest so what was stopping him? He didn’t want to think about the answer to that question.
“Fine.” We probably have something to discuss anyway.
You were singing along with the final number when you heard a voice in your ear, shocking the bejeezus out of you. You turned around to find the young, attractive usher from earlier hovering - he beckoned you closer and told you to meet him by the side door as soon as the audience started filing out. You tentatively agreed, knowing what this meant and wondering what the fuck you were going to say when you were face to face with the man you simultaneously wanted to kick and kiss. As you turned back to the stage you caught him quickly turning his gaze away from the two of you - did you perhaps affect him in the same way? No, surely not. He was probably just annoyed at his protective instincts - that’s what landed you in this mess in the first place.
You realised you had zoned out because when you came to, most were cheering and moving around to leave. This was your cue. You moved to the door behind you and loitered a bit until the staff member came to get you. His name was James and he really was very nice but you couldn’t reciprocate his flirting - not when you were about to meet him. He led you through the corridor all the way to the back of the building and knocked on the door of the green room. You felt a warm sensation on your lower back and noticed his hand resting there - before you could ask him to remove it the door opened, revealing a wet-haired Changbin in fresh clothes. He opened the door with a wide smile and stepped back to let you in. You looked beyond him and saw Chan staring daggers at the man behind you who dropped his hand reluctantly. You thanked him gently and walked in.
You knew this was a mistake the moment you did because Chan went back to ignoring you, making you feel very out of place. The room was big, couches settled against the walls and make-up stations set up in the middle but, because of the absolute rejection, you felt the walls squeeze you in from all sides. Your heart stuttered and you started to instinctively move back. This was worse than you thought. How would you two ever be able to go back to normal? You wanted to be alone to mourn your childhood but, just as you were about to make your excuses and leave, a hand guided you to the couch where you were gently pushed down. The man followed you swiftly and sat by your side - it was almost invasive. You turned your head and found yourself staring at the most beautiful pair of lips. Hyunjin. His voice was like molten silk, sliding over your nerves, settling you.
“So what’s your name?”
“Y/n.”
“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
You heard a scoff from somewhere and straightened up, refusing to appear vulnerable. Minho jumped into your line of sight and towered over you, gripping the couch.
“So. You’re the girl Chan valiantly rescued last night.” He smirked evilly, shooting a look at him who had his back to you, shoulders tensed. He still hadn’t acknowledged you. Minho, undeterred, was on a roll.
“How long have you known each other? Because he was frantic when he got the message from you. You two must be awfully close. Isn’t that right, Chan? I think he’d practically do anything for you.”
You schooled your breathing and answered without thinking, using his childhood nickname, “Well Channie and I -”
“Of course, I would. She’s basically my little sister.”
He didn’t look at you as he cut you off and you fought to swallow down the bile comprised of hurt, shame, anger. You knew he was in the right since you forced him into what had happened but you couldn’t help it. You needed to be wanted, you needed to be seen as a woman so you decided to fight fire with fire and focus on the members instead. You let a mask slide across your features.
Leaning back, you smiled demurely up at Minho, saying nothing in return. You took in the other boys - they were all so striking, so unique. Jeongin was staring at you shyly, Seungmin was maintaining nonchalant eye contact and Jisung was adjusting his belt. Good god. Felix had made himself comfy on the other side of you and thrown his arm around your shoulders, murmuring into your ear with his deep voice.
“If I may be so bold, I love your outfit. The red really pops against your smooth skin.” At this point, your face had started to match said colour. What were they playing at? You couldn’t say you weren’t relishing in it, however, as your inner brat was trying to rear its ugly head.
You crossed your legs and pushed your chest out slightly, noticing that Chan had now turned around and was staring balefully at the others. You couldn’t help but stare at him, his annoyance rolling off him in waves. The way the black tank hugged his torso as he crossed his arms really had you pulsing.
“Thanks, I am feeling a tad warm right now though so I might take off this jacket - could someone help me?”
Changbin appeared out of nowhere, pulling you upright and helping you out of it. You practically purred out a thanks and pretended not to notice how Chan’s scowl had deepened dramatically. The boys raked their eyes unabashedly over your body and when you turned you heard an appreciative gasp. You felt someone’s fingers trail over your shoulder and realised what they had seen.
“Your tattoo... So fragile, so delicate, so dark.” You realised it was Hyunjin and shivered when he brushed your hair to the side, seeing that it flowed up the back of your neck. It wasn’t a big tattoo by any means but you looked over your shoulder and caught Chan staring at it, eyes wide. You felt a quiet sense of satisfaction which was masking your lingering hurt so, clinging onto it, you gave Hyunjin a cheeky smile and reached out to touch his new piercing, eyes locked on his. His hair was shorter, shimmering maroon and his shirt was showcasing his collarbones. He was beautiful. He seemed just as entranced by you so he leaned in.
“Are you single then?”
“All right, Jesus! Stop acting like horny teenagers - she’s here because we’re helping her, what use is that when you’re harassing her? Y/n, put your damn jacket on - I can see the goosebumps from here.”
Chan started aggressively gathering his things, muttering under his breath. Hyunjin’s eyes gleamed at you and it all fell into place. They were all baiting him…and it had worked. As everyone got their bags, you moved to slip past them to the door.
“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Chan was grimacing at you, arms crossed.
“You guys are getting ready to leave? Didn’t want to be in the way. Have a safe flight and well done for the great concert.” He was being an absolute prick and you realised that a written message three years from now would be sufficient. But as you started to open the door, a strong hand kept it closed, an arm effectively caging you in. You turned your head slightly and was met by his hard stare. Fuck me. You quickly looked behind you to see all the boys simultaneously turn and stare at a particularly ugly painting.
“I like the…brush strokes.”
“Yes, the mustard yellow is quite…prominent.”
Chan lowered his voice, “You’re here because the hotel room is still available and we don’t want you going home alone. Please… just go there.”
You grit your teeth and tried to tug at the door but his hand wrapped securely around yours and held you still. He leaned in, face unreadable, “What’s going on with you? I’m getting worried.” Your heart clenched painfully and you schooled your expression.
“Oh, don’t worry about me big bro - I’ll be fine.” He flinched and you cast your eyes down, feeling slightly guilty. You sighed, adding, “But I’ll take you up on your offer as I’m too fucking tired to find an uber in this madness.”
Everyone was quick to gather their things and when it came time to leave, you received your instructions.
“We will head out first, draw the crowd in and so forth. Once we’re on the road, you’ll follow us in a company car. You have your room key card?”
You nodded mutely and stared at the ground - so he wasn’t going to talk to you later. The disappointment and relief twirled into a glutinous mess and you felt sick. Someone approached you with a black cap and face mask, and you looked up to see Hyunjin in front of you. He gave you a gentle smile and silently asked if he could apply them. You nodded again and he slowly slid your mask into place, fingers trailing across your cheekbones. A hiss came out of nowhere and suddenly a new person had taken over. From behind you, Chan ran his fingers through your hair - you had seen him approach you but even if you hadn’t, you would recognise those fingers anywhere. The way they raked across your scalp had you seeing stars, the sensation threw you back to the bed where this had all started. You thought you might be imagining it but you could feel his heart race through his shirt and you shivered. After he had balled your hair up, under the cap, you were ready. He stepped back and avoided your gaze. You noticed Jisung clutching his chest, expression cooing and Jeongin blushing in the back. You rolled your eyes and watched the members move towards the van. Just as you started contemplating making a run for it, a harsh voice whispered in your ear.
“Don’t you dare think about it. Stop being a brat and go to the hotel.”
“Come on, Channie! The car is waiting!” Minho cackled and Chan jogged on, scowling the whole way.
Once in the car, Chan’s mind raced. He felt like absolute scum. He had hurt you. He had hurt you the night before and it was evident in the way you interacted with him. He knew he was being standoffish but he was scared to look you in the eyes because everytime he did he was reminded of the tears glistening there as you begged him to fuck you. He didn’t even know he had a crying kink until you outright sobbed, clutched onto his shirt and stared beseechingly into his eyes. God, he had never been so hard in his life. He had let himself get swept up and now he was paying the price. He had acted like a frat boy and taken advantage of you in your vulnerable state. You. You, who knew who he really was, who had grown up with him - he was supposed to protect you, you fucking trusted him. He’d let one of the most important people to him down and he couldn’t bear to face you. He’d seen the hurt etched across your features while he was onstage and, like the coward he was, he ignored it. Like the coward he was, he had slipped out of your bed and fled. Like the coward he was, he didn’t message you, no matter how much he wanted to. And like a pervert…he had gotten himself off in the shower as soon as he could. How could he not when he noticed the patch of arousal you had left on his boxers? You probably hated him and he couldn’t face it. He instinctively gripped his seat as he remembered how you looked in the changing room. His heart had stuttered seeing you up close, your hair tousled, your eyes shining as you looked at the other members. He thought about that tattoo, when had you gotten that? It might quite possibly have been the sexiest thing he had ever seen. It reminded him of how you’d grown up without him, how you had bloomed into this gorgeous creature, how you were different yet not. He wanted to trace his fingers over it or better yet, his tongue but Hyunjin had beaten him to it and Chan had to hold himself back from strangling him. He didn’t know how you felt about him, he wasn’t supposed to want you but he couldn’t help it. When did he start liking you in this way? Did you like Hyunjin? The jealousy had flooded him when you touched his piercing with a smile. You had smiled at him like that when you were in his arms. Right before you cried and begged him to fuck you. Fuck. He was an absolute fucking mess.
He had to apologise to you, he had to make this right.
When you opened the door to your room, you froze. There, sitting in the same armchair as the night before, was Chan. He was staring hard at the carpet, saying nothing. After a while you slowly closed the door and shifted from one foot to the other, not sure what to do next - you didn’t particularly want to sit on that bed in front of him.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
His face was impassive as he looked at you, it made your heart hammer in your chest. He was angry at you - you wanted to melt into the carpet but knew it was better this way. You wanted him to just get it over with - yell at you and then leave. You didn’t deserve anything less. So, mustering up your courage, you made your way to the bed and perched on the side of the mattress closest to him. His eyes were dark and you forced yourself to maintain eye contact - he was really angry. Your lip trembled as you realised there was no going back for the two of you. This was the end of everything.
“Y/n. I need to say something to you - fuck.”
He hissed the last word as he noticed your eyes glinting. Scrambling out of the chair, he moved to the massive windows, back to you.
“Please stop crying,” he gritted out.
Embarrassed at how pathetic you must look to him, you hastily wiped your cheeks and stood up, moving towards him. When you placed a hand on his arm (you had to apologise to his face) he jerked away as though electrocuted, muttering, “I can’t do this.”
You turned away in defeat and made your way to the shower, thinking you would make it easier for him to leave. You found his pyjamas on the sink and choked back a sob, why was this so hard?
After scrubbing your skin for fifteen minutes, you ventured out. You wanted to curl up into a ball and berate yourself further for jumping the man who’d always been there for you in one way or another but you came face to face with Chan again. He hadn’t left, he was sprawled in the chair again. Why won’t he just leave? I would much rather send him a fruit basket than do this. You steeled your shoulders, opened your mouth, but before you could say something he cut in.
“I’m sorry.”
What?
He repeated it and looked you dead in the eye. It confused you so much that you stood there, gaping like a fish for a good few seconds. When you were finally able to get words out, your voice sounded shrill.
“Chan… what are you apologising for? I’m the one who should be doing that.”
His brow furrowed and he tilted his head questioningly.
You stepped forward slowly, it was now or never.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for last night - I forced myself on you. I begged you to sleep with me and you gave in. I assaulted you. I’m so fucking sorry!”
Now it was his turn to gape - he felt even worse than before.
“Is that the impression I gave you? That I didn’t want it?”
“You were hardly touching me, wouldn’t take my shirt off and you didn’t come!”
“That’s because I was forcing myself to stay calm and not lose control! You have no idea how incredible you looked under me, how fucking much I wanted to ruin you. I am so sorry. Even though I tried to restrain myself somewhat, I violated your trust in me. You were coming down from cocaine for god’s sake and I took advantage of you. I don’t even deserve to be alone with you right now.”
“No.”
You started to panic, hands shaking and breaths shallow. You couldn’t believe he was trying to do this again. To protect you and make you feel better about you assaulting him. Typical Chan. You’d had enough. Angry tears pooling in your eyes, you strode forward until you were standing right in front of him.
“You don’t get to do this. Not again! I fucking attacked you and now you’re trying to make me feel better? Chan, stop hiding your feelings - I know you’re resenting me right now and I need you to be honest. You’ve been ignoring me all evening, acting aggressive when I approach you. Saying you ‘can’t do this’ a moment ago. Stop being so nice!”
He had stood up by this point, towering over you.
“Being nice? I’m being nice? Do you want to know what I actually meant when I said I can’t do this?” There was no trace of empathy on his face and it made you nervous. Were you wrong? He continued on, moving even closer.
“You had just started crying and it turned me on. It fucking turned me on. Apparently I’m into that. If I didn’t shake you off, I would have taken you against the window for everyone to see. I’m disgusting.”
Your breath caught in your throat. God, you wanted him. He was about to move away in shame when you caught his wrist. He studied you carefully and noticed your dilated pupils, mouth parted and cheeks flushed. You loved his confession and it twisted something in his chest. He wrapped a hand around your hair and lifted your face up, admiring the silvery sheen of tears glistening on your cheeks. He groaned and with his free hand, wiped them away with his thumb. When he slid it into his mouth and sucked at the salty residue, you felt your guilt wash away. He wasn’t joking. And you were going to lose it.
Gripping the back of your neck, he bent down to lightly brush his lips against yours but you both stopped before sealing the deal. His eyes danced.
“Tell me to stop.”
“No.”
You mirrored his words, “Tell me to stop.”
His reply came fast and breathless.
“Never.”
The kiss was immediate, it was forceful with teeth clashing and lip biting.
He pushed you onto the bed and, this time, ripped your shirt off.
“As much as I love seeing you in my clothes, I just need to fucking check something.” He turned you onto your front and roughly brushed your hair out the way, stilling for a moment as he took in the sight. Your painted shoulder was glorious.
“When did you even get this?”
“Back in uni, six shots of tequila helped me gain the confidence to share my design with an artist.”
“So you’re saying, I leave you for a couple of years and you go wild? Shit, I’ll have to keep my eye on you in case you come back with a nose ring.” You felt his arousal through his shorts and smirked to yourself.
He bent his head down and finally got to slide his tongue slowly over the clean lines, causing you to shudder and arch your back. He licked up your shoulder, to your neck where he bit down. Hard. It had you bucking in his grasp and he sternly pushed your hips down.
“Oh baby - settle down unless you don’t want to come. At all.”
Your eyes rolled back into your head and you quietened down, panting in anticipation.
“Good girl.”
Fuck. When did he get so authoritative? He gripped your hair and bruised your mouth with his, licking into you. The pace was rough and you suddenly became aware of how gentle he had been with you when you needed him the previous night. He had gone at your pace, fluttered his fingers over you and made sure not to make you uncomfortable. You smiled into the kiss as you truly realised that he wasn’t reluctant, he was respectful - he was treasuring you. You were both idiots. He quirked a brow, feeling your smile and pulled away.
“What’s on your mind, baby girl?”
“Channie, you could never hurt me - not even if you tried.”
He understood your meaning, giggling shyly (how?), but decided to take your words literally.
“You sure about that?”
He bit the shell of your ear sharply and your eyes darkened in response. Now was not the time for sentimentalities. Ripping his shirt off, he flipped you over and nestled between your legs - his eyes trailed down and his lips quirked.
“You didn’t learn the last time?”
“I have a thing against wearing dirty undies after a shower.”
“Who are you?” His face tightened in thought and you needed to bring him back.
You cupped his face, “Chan, I need you to understand that I’m not the girl from your memories anymore. I’ve grown up - which you can clearly see - so please, don’t be gentle and don’t regret this. I want you and I realise I’ve kind of always wanted you - you were just either too thick to see it or you didn’t want to. I’ve grown up, I’ve dated and I still want you. Tell me you want this and then stop worrying about hurting me, if you’ll have me - I’m all yours. At least for tonight.” You swallowed thickly with nerves and waited for his response - would he finally see a beautiful, worldly woman (like the ones he must hang out with) or would he not be able to get past his impression of you, his little sister’s friend. You hoped it was the first. He took a few moments and you thought you might just cry which you did not want to happen as it would, apparently, just persuade him to fuck you.
He sucked in his bottom lip with a sigh and stared up at you from below his lashes. His warm brown eyes narrowed in something akin to concern. He opened his mouth and then thought better of it, leaning down to place a warm kiss against your forehead. You shuddered and waited, heart sinking.
“Y/n. I can’t promise that I’ll be able to separate you from the girl I knew when I was little. In fact, I don’t want to.” Your shoulders tensed and you waited for the inevitable rejection. What an unfortunate position to be doing this in.
“When I saw you on that couch yesterday, scared and so alone, an image of you crying in the rain hit me. I don’t know if you remember but you were sixteen - your parents had had a fight and gone to bed, forgetting to unlock the front door for you. I pulled you to your feet and cuddled you on Lily’s bed while we waited for her to get home. Anyways, you looked exactly the same, lost and feeling abandoned. I wanted to gather you in my arms again, I needed to protect you again. You mean so much to me and I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else. Just be Y/n, the annoying neighbour who I had a massive crush on before I left. Why do you think I kept in touch all these years? I needed some semblance of normalcy, I needed the comfort of home. I needed you. And I still do. So, stay with me as you. Yourself. Be mine.”
You let out a relieved laugh and he cradled your face again, whispering,“But you gotta stop doing this, darling, as you’ll send me to an early grave and you wouldn’t want to disappoint my fans now, would you?”
He was kissing a stray tear away and you decided you would indeed try your best to shed a few everyday if it meant getting this treatment.
Suddenly, you felt his breathing grow ragged as he looked you over.
“Now call me Channie again and let me have you.”
You bit back a whimper as he lowered his mouth to your neck and then, realising you were stark naked under him, you tugged at his waistband. He broke away for a second to rip both layers off and then captured your lips with his. It was a slow, deep kiss this time - as though you were savouring this pivotal moment together. His hands softly entwined in your hair again and yours slid leisurely over his back, running your nails over the tight planes of flesh. He hissed and you felt woozy, arousal dripping from your core. He slid his cock through your folds gently and held eye contact - it was almost too intense for you so you turned your face away, only for him to grip your chin and bring you back.
“Look at me. Please.”
You blinked and nodded dumbly, watching as he slid his fingers down to your begging hole. You were sopping, ready, and he knew this but a cheeky smile flashed across his features and you narrowed your eyes at him as he slowly made his way down your body. He trailed his tongue across your collarbones, flicked your nipples, grazed his teeth along your ribs and when he reached your pelvis he bit down on your hip. All while maintaining eye contact. You yelped and jerked your hips up from the bed but he easily draped a muscular arm across your torso, glaring at you.
“What did I say about moving?”
“Sorry…” you murmured, head in the clouds. You felt him chuckle, breath ghosting over your pussy. He hummed quietly and kissed your folds. It felt so good that you knew you’d be begging for more later. When his tongue swept over your slit you keened loudly, forcing yourself to stay still. He sucked your bud in between his plush lips and you felt your waterline pleading to release. No, this is too soon! You tried to keep your impending orgasm at bay but it was as though he knew all the right spots on you so as soon as his tongue slid inside you and lapped at your walls you lost it, thighs locking around his head and mouth open in a silent scream.
You felt him nip at your thigh and position himself over you, waiting for you to return to him. You lazily smiled at him, combing a hand through his messy locks and he kissed you all over your face, making you push at him.
“Tell me to stop before I make you scream.”
You widened your eyes as his confidence swept back at full force and choked out, “No.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He gripped your hip with one hand and sheathed himself in you, apparently deciding he couldn’t hold back anymore. And scream, you did.
“Fuck, Channie!”
He said nothing, starting off at a punishing pace and you felt the breath leave your lungs. You held onto his biceps, honestly trying not to pass out. You realised he adored edging you because the heat in your belly would build up at the abuse you endured by his thick cock slamming into your walls but, at the last minute, he would feel you clenching and change the pace. It was frustrating the hell out of you and you wouldn’t have it any other way. He had monumentally slowed down his pace when he started talking.
“How are you still so tight, baby girl? I’m so deep inside you and your wet cunt is still trying to suck me in. Fuck. Is this good for you? Do you like it when I take you like this?”
You let out an embarrassing noise, too fucked out to speak. At this, he slowed down even more.
“What was that? Speak to me - what do you want?” His face hovered over yours, smirking devilishly at you. God, you hated this man. You tried your best to glare at him and pulled your lips firmly shut, two could play at this game. He stopped completely and gripped your face hard, pushing his thumb into your mouth - you felt your eyes roll back as you instinctively clenched around him.
“Stop being a fucking brat, Y/n, and tell me what you want. Beg for it or I’ll make you cry.” He clearly was not going to move and your pussy ached so much as you had been going for quite a while. You realised that if you were going to sleep with him again, you would need to learn to hold your own but it wouldn’t be tonight. He heard a sound around his thumb and pulled it out.
“Hmm? What was that, sweetheart?”
“Cum. I need to cum. Now.” Your voice broke around the last word and he sucked in a breath, eyes darkened to black. He rose up on his knees and folded your legs up against his chest. You had thought it would be impossible but he was even deeper than before.
“If I see even one more tear, I’m going to stop.”
He started up his brutal pace, watching your face contort in the most delightful way. Your eyes took him in as much as you could - the furrow between his brow, his mouth hanging open, sweat trickling down his neck and shoulders. The way his arms bunched around your legs and the way he was breathing was coaxing you to the edge - when he started to feel you contract he licked his thumb and swiftly brought it down onto your clit. It sent you hurtling to your destruction, taking him with you.
Later, whilst facing each other on the bed, arms and legs tangled, you searched his eyes. The sparkle was there, no hint of regret in sight. You felt a surge of relief until you heard his next words.
“The sun’s not out yet and we are far from finished.”
Fuck.
Your body was sore. Really sore. It felt as though he had split you in two, you shuddered at all the positions you had tried (successfully). But you had been over-ambitious and now you were paying the price. Opening a weary eye, you looked around. It was morning, the sun was gently washing in from behind the light curtains…and there was nothing blocking it. Chan wasn’t there, Chan was gone. You struggled to sit up but managed to slouch against the headboard. Was something wrong? Had you fucked up again? You got nervous - when he said “be mine” did he mean “just for tonight?”. You racked your brain, trying to remember what time his flight was but the sound of your discarded phone ringing had you scrambling to reach for it. When you looked at the caller ID, the air returned to you.
“Channie?”
A warm chuckle met you and you sighed in happiness - until you realised he had destroyed you physically and ran. Was he already at the airport?
“Where are you?”
“I’m at a cafe, getting us some breakfast. In fact, I’m currently fighting over a Pain au Chocolat since I remember you liking those.”
“ …oh.”
“Baby, did you think I’d left you again?” You imagined him softly smiling into the phone and you mirrored his action as you heard his next words.
Content info: Chan x afab reader, one-shot drabble, CEO heir Chan (hinted at), fluff/smut/slight angst.
General Warnings: Smut (specifics under the cut), swearing.
Word count: 1.7k
StrayerThings Masterlist
a/n: Just a small thought I had - basically just porn with a sprinkle of plot. Enjoy!
Smut: unprotected sex (don't)
Explicit content - minors do not interact.
His breath hitched. Why were you here?
He looked around the smoky bar, spotting all the admiring looks directed at the stage. He couldn’t blame them - you looked incredible. Loose lilac sweater hanging off one shoulder, sleeves rolled up to expose the delicate tattoos winding around your forearms and fingers. Tight jeans hugging your thighs where you perched on the stool. You were busy crooning an acoustic version of Beauty in Death, microphone coyly cradled in your palm. When you lifted your head you caught his eye and a breathy gasp escaped you - his chest ached. His friends did not believe him when he said he had no idea you’d be here. It was where you’d met all those months ago, after all.
He should get out of here. But there was no way he’d leave now. Not when you maintained defiant eye contact throughout the set.
Your hair glinted in the spotlight causing images to flit through his mind. Of locks spreading across his pillow, running like silk through his fingers and then practically strangling him in his sleep. Your shoulder peeked out mischievously, causing him to remember the softness, the vulnerability of you baring yourself to him for the first time. Your lips puckered, reminding him of how he’d bitten them and then soothed them with his tongue. And finally, your eyes lifted to him and he was struck by the image of you crying. First in pleasure and then, weeks later, in pain. He felt himself tear up. What had he done? He knew, of course. He thought he had to - at the time. You were never supposed to be a part of his future. Just a distraction before he took on the responsibility of a lifetime. Before he settled down with an appropriate match. She was already chosen by his parents and all was on track. His wedding was now scheduled in a month yet he was far from happy - he’d barely had two conversations with the woman. She wasn’t you. Oh, how he wished it was you. Anything to have your soft body writhing under him, your head thrown back, your fingers embedded in his back. As good as the sex had been, it wasn’t the loss of that which left him cold. Although, that’s how it started, of course. Chan had donned a casual black outfit and escaped to a bar for the evening, he strode in with his friends and immediately noticed you. You were laughing at the bar and sipping on a whiskey. In your short dress, you had then flounced onstage and wowed everyone with your honeyed voice. How could he stay away? Why not let off some steam? The next morning, he’d woken up to your number on his bedside table and, though he knew it was foolish, he’d texted. Now here you were, two hearts broken and a whole lot left unsaid.
No, what left him a shell of a man, was your spirit. The way you could discuss anything - the way you didn’t hesitate to berate him, despite his high status in society. He loved how free you were. Most of all, he loved how gentle you were - how you accepted every part of him and encouraged him to pursue the dreams he never thought he could.
Quite simply, he loved you.
And in that moment, he realised what mattered. He needed a reason to be proud of himself again.
When you stepped off the stage, he followed. He watched as your jaw tightened, your back stiffened and you geared yourself for a fight.
That’s my girl.
You opened your mouth to give him a piece of your mind and he immediately covered it with his own. There was a clash of tongue before you eventually shoved him off. He smirked as he thought you could have done it sooner.
“Come with me.”
You gaped at him.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
He gripped your arm and forced you out the door - he could have taken you backstage but he needed to claim you in his bed. Luckily he lived a block away and he didn’t care that the doorman would see you. Not anymore.
You continued to swear at him profusely but didn’t fight back very much - you knew he would never hurt you…unless you asked, of course.
He swept you through the lobby, for all the world to see. He wanted people to see - he hoped it got out fast. He wanted the world to see who he belonged to. But then he faltered. What if you didn’t want him anymore? What if you hated him - what if you had someone else? He turned to you and you had your eyes widened, darting around nervously but you didn’t protest. You went along with him quite easily, actually. You wanted this!
As soon as his door closed, you rounded on him. Your hair was sparking and your heart was visibly racing. But it only spurred him on more. You were alive like this. You woke him up too. He grabbed you by the hips and pushed you against the wall. You had a tear of frustration running down your cheek and he lightly licked at it, causing you to freeze. He dipped his head to catch your eyes.
“I choose you.”
You shook your head vehemently on a sob and he cupped your face, willing you to look at him.
“I choose you.”
He was rewarded with a surge of your lips, the clawing of fingers on his jacket. He still wasn’t sure you fully understood but knew he would spend the rest of his days convincing you - mending you. Making you feel loved and seen.
He led you into his bedroom, relishing in the way your eyes had darkened. He rubbed your cheek tenderly and simply stared for a few beats. You took his hand and placed it on the hem of your sweater, hinting. He smiled sheepishly and slowly lifted it, running the back of his knuckles up your sides. He removed your bra gently and, when you settled on the bed, he removed your jeans and panties as well. He simply stood there, taking you in. The reverence settled in his chest, overwhelming him with emotion and he struggled to hold onto his feelings. His ribs felt tight and he struggled to breathe. What was happening? This was all he’d ever wanted and now he was fucking it up. He wanted to worship you but suddenly he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough. That he wouldn’t be enough. God, you were beautiful. Your eyes widened and glistened as you pulled yourself up and kneeled to embrace him. He let out a deep breath, calm washing over him as you burrowed your face into his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked.
“I know.”
“I just…”
“I know.”
“No, I-”
“Chan, I know. This will be hard but I’m all in - I’m yours, as long as you don’t throw me away again.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you. But I promise. I’m yours. I’ll never let you go again. I love you.”
He felt his shirt dampen, both his tears and yours. He pulled you up, snaked his fingers into your hair and kissed you fiercely, eager to claim you officially. He felt the mewl emanate from your lips and his cock twitched. My girl needs me. He pushed you back, none too gently, and stripped while maintaining eye contact. He ran his hands up your thighs, enjoying the supple skin under his fingertips. He bit your calf and started to lower himself to your core but you gripped his hair harshly, pulling him off.
“Later. I need you. Now. Need you inside.”
You could hardly formulate coherent sentences and he swelled up with pride.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
Your face softened and your next words struck home:
“Love, I trust you.”
With a growl he pushed your knees apart and thrust in smoothly. Your face contorted and he knew he needed to take care of you. He touched his nose to yours and gently drew circles around your bundle of nerves, waiting for you to relax.
“Sshh, darling, it’s okay - relax for me, beautiful.”
You let out a low moan and gripped his ass, begging him to move. He picked up a steady pace, eyes rolling back in his head as he felt the thick, warm slick of your cunt envelop him. How did he go so long without this? Without you? He swallowed down another swell of declaration and thrust deeper at your urging. He felt your hand creep towards your clit and clenched his stomach muscles as he lifted himself slightly. His mouth watered as he watched you take your pleasure, as you used him. This was why he loved you - you weren’t afraid to go for what you want. And you wanted him!
As he bent down to suck on your pebbled nipple, he took note of the low hum starting in your chest. When your velvet walls started to contract, instinct took over and he pumped into you animalistically. Anything for his girl. The screams you let out was almost enough to send him over the edge so, before your orgasm ended, he pulled out and harshly flipped you over, entering you from behind. Your body reacted violently and your back arched just right. You knew exactly how to please him and he went delirious with pleasure, thick ropes painting your insides. He encased you for a few minutes, intrinsically knowing you needed to feel his warmth around him. Needed the reassurance. After a while, he turned you over and lay on his side, running his fingers down your belly. He felt your fingers scrape against his abs and moaned in exasperation.
“Give it a minute.”
You smiled widely and it lit something up inside him, this was happening. This was really happening. He had your heart and you had his. He kissed you tenderly, stroking your neck. You lightly headbutted him off you and grabbed his face, eyes shining.
“I love you too.”
That's my girl.
🖤 Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment with your thoughts!
♪ All work contains mature content, minors do not interact.
I love the openness, no mind games. His constant "That's my girl" gave me warmth and butterflies, 'cause he knows what he lost and what he had to reclaim, and he did. Gotta love a man who isn't afraid to wear his heart on his sleeve.
Content info: Chan x afab reader, one-shot drabble, CEO heir Chan (hinted at), fluff/smut/slight angst.
General Warnings: Smut (specifics under the cut), swearing.
Word count: 1.7k
StrayerThings Masterlist
a/n: Just a small thought I had - basically just porn with a sprinkle of plot. Enjoy!
Smut: unprotected sex (don't)
Explicit content - minors do not interact.
His breath hitched. Why were you here?
He looked around the smoky bar, spotting all the admiring looks directed at the stage. He couldn’t blame them - you looked incredible. Loose lilac sweater hanging off one shoulder, sleeves rolled up to expose the delicate tattoos winding around your forearms and fingers. Tight jeans hugging your thighs where you perched on the stool. You were busy crooning an acoustic version of Beauty in Death, microphone coyly cradled in your palm. When you lifted your head you caught his eye and a breathy gasp escaped you - his chest ached. His friends did not believe him when he said he had no idea you’d be here. It was where you’d met all those months ago, after all.
He should get out of here. But there was no way he’d leave now. Not when you maintained defiant eye contact throughout the set.
Your hair glinted in the spotlight causing images to flit through his mind. Of locks spreading across his pillow, running like silk through his fingers and then practically strangling him in his sleep. Your shoulder peeked out mischievously, causing him to remember the softness, the vulnerability of you baring yourself to him for the first time. Your lips puckered, reminding him of how he’d bitten them and then soothed them with his tongue. And finally, your eyes lifted to him and he was struck by the image of you crying. First in pleasure and then, weeks later, in pain. He felt himself tear up. What had he done? He knew, of course. He thought he had to - at the time. You were never supposed to be a part of his future. Just a distraction before he took on the responsibility of a lifetime. Before he settled down with an appropriate match. She was already chosen by his parents and all was on track. His wedding was now scheduled in a month yet he was far from happy - he’d barely had two conversations with the woman. She wasn’t you. Oh, how he wished it was you. Anything to have your soft body writhing under him, your head thrown back, your fingers embedded in his back. As good as the sex had been, it wasn’t the loss of that which left him cold. Although, that’s how it started, of course. Chan had donned a casual black outfit and escaped to a bar for the evening, he strode in with his friends and immediately noticed you. You were laughing at the bar and sipping on a whiskey. In your short dress, you had then flounced onstage and wowed everyone with your honeyed voice. How could he stay away? Why not let off some steam? The next morning, he’d woken up to your number on his bedside table and, though he knew it was foolish, he’d texted. Now here you were, two hearts broken and a whole lot left unsaid.
No, what left him a shell of a man, was your spirit. The way you could discuss anything - the way you didn’t hesitate to berate him, despite his high status in society. He loved how free you were. Most of all, he loved how gentle you were - how you accepted every part of him and encouraged him to pursue the dreams he never thought he could.
Quite simply, he loved you.
And in that moment, he realised what mattered. He needed a reason to be proud of himself again.
When you stepped off the stage, he followed. He watched as your jaw tightened, your back stiffened and you geared yourself for a fight.
That’s my girl.
You opened your mouth to give him a piece of your mind and he immediately covered it with his own. There was a clash of tongue before you eventually shoved him off. He smirked as he thought you could have done it sooner.
“Come with me.”
You gaped at him.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
He gripped your arm and forced you out the door - he could have taken you backstage but he needed to claim you in his bed. Luckily he lived a block away and he didn’t care that the doorman would see you. Not anymore.
You continued to swear at him profusely but didn’t fight back very much - you knew he would never hurt you…unless you asked, of course.
He swept you through the lobby, for all the world to see. He wanted people to see - he hoped it got out fast. He wanted the world to see who he belonged to. But then he faltered. What if you didn’t want him anymore? What if you hated him - what if you had someone else? He turned to you and you had your eyes widened, darting around nervously but you didn’t protest. You went along with him quite easily, actually. You wanted this!
As soon as his door closed, you rounded on him. Your hair was sparking and your heart was visibly racing. But it only spurred him on more. You were alive like this. You woke him up too. He grabbed you by the hips and pushed you against the wall. You had a tear of frustration running down your cheek and he lightly licked at it, causing you to freeze. He dipped his head to catch your eyes.
“I choose you.”
You shook your head vehemently on a sob and he cupped your face, willing you to look at him.
“I choose you.”
He was rewarded with a surge of your lips, the clawing of fingers on his jacket. He still wasn’t sure you fully understood but knew he would spend the rest of his days convincing you - mending you. Making you feel loved and seen.
He led you into his bedroom, relishing in the way your eyes had darkened. He rubbed your cheek tenderly and simply stared for a few beats. You took his hand and placed it on the hem of your sweater, hinting. He smiled sheepishly and slowly lifted it, running the back of his knuckles up your sides. He removed your bra gently and, when you settled on the bed, he removed your jeans and panties as well. He simply stood there, taking you in. The reverence settled in his chest, overwhelming him with emotion and he struggled to hold onto his feelings. His ribs felt tight and he struggled to breathe. What was happening? This was all he’d ever wanted and now he was fucking it up. He wanted to worship you but suddenly he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough. That he wouldn’t be enough. God, you were beautiful. Your eyes widened and glistened as you pulled yourself up and kneeled to embrace him. He let out a deep breath, calm washing over him as you burrowed your face into his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked.
“I know.”
“I just…”
“I know.”
“No, I-”
“Chan, I know. This will be hard but I’m all in - I’m yours, as long as you don’t throw me away again.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you. But I promise. I’m yours. I’ll never let you go again. I love you.”
He felt his shirt dampen, both his tears and yours. He pulled you up, snaked his fingers into your hair and kissed you fiercely, eager to claim you officially. He felt the mewl emanate from your lips and his cock twitched. My girl needs me. He pushed you back, none too gently, and stripped while maintaining eye contact. He ran his hands up your thighs, enjoying the supple skin under his fingertips. He bit your calf and started to lower himself to your core but you gripped his hair harshly, pulling him off.
“Later. I need you. Now. Need you inside.”
You could hardly formulate coherent sentences and he swelled up with pride.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
Your face softened and your next words struck home:
“Love, I trust you.”
With a growl he pushed your knees apart and thrust in smoothly. Your face contorted and he knew he needed to take care of you. He touched his nose to yours and gently drew circles around your bundle of nerves, waiting for you to relax.
“Sshh, darling, it’s okay - relax for me, beautiful.”
You let out a low moan and gripped his ass, begging him to move. He picked up a steady pace, eyes rolling back in his head as he felt the thick, warm slick of your cunt envelop him. How did he go so long without this? Without you? He swallowed down another swell of declaration and thrust deeper at your urging. He felt your hand creep towards your clit and clenched his stomach muscles as he lifted himself slightly. His mouth watered as he watched you take your pleasure, as you used him. This was why he loved you - you weren’t afraid to go for what you want. And you wanted him!
As he bent down to suck on your pebbled nipple, he took note of the low hum starting in your chest. When your velvet walls started to contract, instinct took over and he pumped into you animalistically. Anything for his girl. The screams you let out was almost enough to send him over the edge so, before your orgasm ended, he pulled out and harshly flipped you over, entering you from behind. Your body reacted violently and your back arched just right. You knew exactly how to please him and he went delirious with pleasure, thick ropes painting your insides. He encased you for a few minutes, intrinsically knowing you needed to feel his warmth around him. Needed the reassurance. After a while, he turned you over and lay on his side, running his fingers down your belly. He felt your fingers scrape against his abs and moaned in exasperation.
“Give it a minute.”
You smiled widely and it lit something up inside him, this was happening. This was really happening. He had your heart and you had his. He kissed you tenderly, stroking your neck. You lightly headbutted him off you and grabbed his face, eyes shining.
“I love you too.”
That's my girl.
🖤 Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment with your thoughts!
♪ All work contains mature content, minors do not interact.
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.
Content info: Chan x afab reader, one-shot drabble, CEO heir Chan (hinted at), fluff/smut/slight angst.
General Warnings: Smut (specifics under the cut), swearing.
Word count: 1.7k
StrayerThings Masterlist
a/n: Just a small thought I had - basically just porn with a sprinkle of plot. Enjoy!
Smut: unprotected sex (don't)
Explicit content - minors do not interact.
His breath hitched. Why were you here?
He looked around the smoky bar, spotting all the admiring looks directed at the stage. He couldn’t blame them - you looked incredible. Loose lilac sweater hanging off one shoulder, sleeves rolled up to expose the delicate tattoos winding around your forearms and fingers. Tight jeans hugging your thighs where you perched on the stool. You were busy crooning an acoustic version of Beauty in Death, microphone coyly cradled in your palm. When you lifted your head you caught his eye and a breathy gasp escaped you - his chest ached. His friends did not believe him when he said he had no idea you’d be here. It was where you’d met all those months ago, after all.
He should get out of here. But there was no way he’d leave now. Not when you maintained defiant eye contact throughout the set.
Your hair glinted in the spotlight causing images to flit through his mind. Of locks spreading across his pillow, running like silk through his fingers and then practically strangling him in his sleep. Your shoulder peeked out mischievously, causing him to remember the softness, the vulnerability of you baring yourself to him for the first time. Your lips puckered, reminding him of how he’d bitten them and then soothed them with his tongue. And finally, your eyes lifted to him and he was struck by the image of you crying. First in pleasure and then, weeks later, in pain. He felt himself tear up. What had he done? He knew, of course. He thought he had to - at the time. You were never supposed to be a part of his future. Just a distraction before he took on the responsibility of a lifetime. Before he settled down with an appropriate match. She was already chosen by his parents and all was on track. His wedding was now scheduled in a month yet he was far from happy - he’d barely had two conversations with the woman. She wasn’t you. Oh, how he wished it was you. Anything to have your soft body writhing under him, your head thrown back, your fingers embedded in his back. As good as the sex had been, it wasn’t the loss of that which left him cold. Although, that’s how it started, of course. Chan had donned a casual black outfit and escaped to a bar for the evening, he strode in with his friends and immediately noticed you. You were laughing at the bar and sipping on a whiskey. In your short dress, you had then flounced onstage and wowed everyone with your honeyed voice. How could he stay away? Why not let off some steam? The next morning, he’d woken up to your number on his bedside table and, though he knew it was foolish, he’d texted. Now here you were, two hearts broken and a whole lot left unsaid.
No, what left him a shell of a man, was your spirit. The way you could discuss anything - the way you didn’t hesitate to berate him, despite his high status in society. He loved how free you were. Most of all, he loved how gentle you were - how you accepted every part of him and encouraged him to pursue the dreams he never thought he could.
Quite simply, he loved you.
And in that moment, he realised what mattered. He needed a reason to be proud of himself again.
When you stepped off the stage, he followed. He watched as your jaw tightened, your back stiffened and you geared yourself for a fight.
That’s my girl.
You opened your mouth to give him a piece of your mind and he immediately covered it with his own. There was a clash of tongue before you eventually shoved him off. He smirked as he thought you could have done it sooner.
“Come with me.”
You gaped at him.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
He gripped your arm and forced you out the door - he could have taken you backstage but he needed to claim you in his bed. Luckily he lived a block away and he didn’t care that the doorman would see you. Not anymore.
You continued to swear at him profusely but didn’t fight back very much - you knew he would never hurt you…unless you asked, of course.
He swept you through the lobby, for all the world to see. He wanted people to see - he hoped it got out fast. He wanted the world to see who he belonged to. But then he faltered. What if you didn’t want him anymore? What if you hated him - what if you had someone else? He turned to you and you had your eyes widened, darting around nervously but you didn’t protest. You went along with him quite easily, actually. You wanted this!
As soon as his door closed, you rounded on him. Your hair was sparking and your heart was visibly racing. But it only spurred him on more. You were alive like this. You woke him up too. He grabbed you by the hips and pushed you against the wall. You had a tear of frustration running down your cheek and he lightly licked at it, causing you to freeze. He dipped his head to catch your eyes.
“I choose you.”
You shook your head vehemently on a sob and he cupped your face, willing you to look at him.
“I choose you.”
He was rewarded with a surge of your lips, the clawing of fingers on his jacket. He still wasn’t sure you fully understood but knew he would spend the rest of his days convincing you - mending you. Making you feel loved and seen.
He led you into his bedroom, relishing in the way your eyes had darkened. He rubbed your cheek tenderly and simply stared for a few beats. You took his hand and placed it on the hem of your sweater, hinting. He smiled sheepishly and slowly lifted it, running the back of his knuckles up your sides. He removed your bra gently and, when you settled on the bed, he removed your jeans and panties as well. He simply stood there, taking you in. The reverence settled in his chest, overwhelming him with emotion and he struggled to hold onto his feelings. His ribs felt tight and he struggled to breathe. What was happening? This was all he’d ever wanted and now he was fucking it up. He wanted to worship you but suddenly he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough. That he wouldn’t be enough. God, you were beautiful. Your eyes widened and glistened as you pulled yourself up and kneeled to embrace him. He let out a deep breath, calm washing over him as you burrowed your face into his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked.
“I know.”
“I just…”
“I know.”
“No, I-”
“Chan, I know. This will be hard but I’m all in - I’m yours, as long as you don’t throw me away again.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you. But I promise. I’m yours. I’ll never let you go again. I love you.”
He felt his shirt dampen, both his tears and yours. He pulled you up, snaked his fingers into your hair and kissed you fiercely, eager to claim you officially. He felt the mewl emanate from your lips and his cock twitched. My girl needs me. He pushed you back, none too gently, and stripped while maintaining eye contact. He ran his hands up your thighs, enjoying the supple skin under his fingertips. He bit your calf and started to lower himself to your core but you gripped his hair harshly, pulling him off.
“Later. I need you. Now. Need you inside.”
You could hardly formulate coherent sentences and he swelled up with pride.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
Your face softened and your next words struck home:
“Love, I trust you.”
With a growl he pushed your knees apart and thrust in smoothly. Your face contorted and he knew he needed to take care of you. He touched his nose to yours and gently drew circles around your bundle of nerves, waiting for you to relax.
“Sshh, darling, it’s okay - relax for me, beautiful.”
You let out a low moan and gripped his ass, begging him to move. He picked up a steady pace, eyes rolling back in his head as he felt the thick, warm slick of your cunt envelop him. How did he go so long without this? Without you? He swallowed down another swell of declaration and thrust deeper at your urging. He felt your hand creep towards your clit and clenched his stomach muscles as he lifted himself slightly. His mouth watered as he watched you take your pleasure, as you used him. This was why he loved you - you weren’t afraid to go for what you want. And you wanted him!
As he bent down to suck on your pebbled nipple, he took note of the low hum starting in your chest. When your velvet walls started to contract, instinct took over and he pumped into you animalistically. Anything for his girl. The screams you let out was almost enough to send him over the edge so, before your orgasm ended, he pulled out and harshly flipped you over, entering you from behind. Your body reacted violently and your back arched just right. You knew exactly how to please him and he went delirious with pleasure, thick ropes painting your insides. He encased you for a few minutes, intrinsically knowing you needed to feel his warmth around him. Needed the reassurance. After a while, he turned you over and lay on his side, running his fingers down your belly. He felt your fingers scrape against his abs and moaned in exasperation.
“Give it a minute.”
You smiled widely and it lit something up inside him, this was happening. This was really happening. He had your heart and you had his. He kissed you tenderly, stroking your neck. You lightly headbutted him off you and grabbed his face, eyes shining.
“I love you too.”
That's my girl.
🖤 Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment with your thoughts!
♪ All work contains mature content, minors do not interact.
Content info: Chan x afab reader, one-shot drabble, CEO heir Chan (hinted at), fluff/smut/slight angst.
General Warnings: Smut (specifics under the cut), swearing.
Word count: 1.7k
StrayerThings Masterlist
a/n: Just a small thought I had - basically just porn with a sprinkle of plot. Enjoy!
Smut: unprotected sex (don't)
Explicit content - minors do not interact.
His breath hitched. Why were you here?
He looked around the smoky bar, spotting all the admiring looks directed at the stage. He couldn’t blame them - you looked incredible. Loose lilac sweater hanging off one shoulder, sleeves rolled up to expose the delicate tattoos winding around your forearms and fingers. Tight jeans hugging your thighs where you perched on the stool. You were busy crooning an acoustic version of Beauty in Death, microphone coyly cradled in your palm. When you lifted your head you caught his eye and a breathy gasp escaped you - his chest ached. His friends did not believe him when he said he had no idea you’d be here. It was where you’d met all those months ago, after all.
He should get out of here. But there was no way he’d leave now. Not when you maintained defiant eye contact throughout the set.
Your hair glinted in the spotlight causing images to flit through his mind. Of locks spreading across his pillow, running like silk through his fingers and then practically strangling him in his sleep. Your shoulder peeked out mischievously, causing him to remember the softness, the vulnerability of you baring yourself to him for the first time. Your lips puckered, reminding him of how he’d bitten them and then soothed them with his tongue. And finally, your eyes lifted to him and he was struck by the image of you crying. First in pleasure and then, weeks later, in pain. He felt himself tear up. What had he done? He knew, of course. He thought he had to - at the time. You were never supposed to be a part of his future. Just a distraction before he took on the responsibility of a lifetime. Before he settled down with an appropriate match. She was already chosen by his parents and all was on track. His wedding was now scheduled in a month yet he was far from happy - he’d barely had two conversations with the woman. She wasn’t you. Oh, how he wished it was you. Anything to have your soft body writhing under him, your head thrown back, your fingers embedded in his back. As good as the sex had been, it wasn’t the loss of that which left him cold. Although, that’s how it started, of course. Chan had donned a casual black outfit and escaped to a bar for the evening, he strode in with his friends and immediately noticed you. You were laughing at the bar and sipping on a whiskey. In your short dress, you had then flounced onstage and wowed everyone with your honeyed voice. How could he stay away? Why not let off some steam? The next morning, he’d woken up to your number on his bedside table and, though he knew it was foolish, he’d texted. Now here you were, two hearts broken and a whole lot left unsaid.
No, what left him a shell of a man, was your spirit. The way you could discuss anything - the way you didn’t hesitate to berate him, despite his high status in society. He loved how free you were. Most of all, he loved how gentle you were - how you accepted every part of him and encouraged him to pursue the dreams he never thought he could.
Quite simply, he loved you.
And in that moment, he realised what mattered. He needed a reason to be proud of himself again.
When you stepped off the stage, he followed. He watched as your jaw tightened, your back stiffened and you geared yourself for a fight.
That’s my girl.
You opened your mouth to give him a piece of your mind and he immediately covered it with his own. There was a clash of tongue before you eventually shoved him off. He smirked as he thought you could have done it sooner.
“Come with me.”
You gaped at him.
“I’ve got nothing to say to you.”
He gripped your arm and forced you out the door - he could have taken you backstage but he needed to claim you in his bed. Luckily he lived a block away and he didn’t care that the doorman would see you. Not anymore.
You continued to swear at him profusely but didn’t fight back very much - you knew he would never hurt you…unless you asked, of course.
He swept you through the lobby, for all the world to see. He wanted people to see - he hoped it got out fast. He wanted the world to see who he belonged to. But then he faltered. What if you didn’t want him anymore? What if you hated him - what if you had someone else? He turned to you and you had your eyes widened, darting around nervously but you didn’t protest. You went along with him quite easily, actually. You wanted this!
As soon as his door closed, you rounded on him. Your hair was sparking and your heart was visibly racing. But it only spurred him on more. You were alive like this. You woke him up too. He grabbed you by the hips and pushed you against the wall. You had a tear of frustration running down your cheek and he lightly licked at it, causing you to freeze. He dipped his head to catch your eyes.
“I choose you.”
You shook your head vehemently on a sob and he cupped your face, willing you to look at him.
“I choose you.”
He was rewarded with a surge of your lips, the clawing of fingers on his jacket. He still wasn’t sure you fully understood but knew he would spend the rest of his days convincing you - mending you. Making you feel loved and seen.
He led you into his bedroom, relishing in the way your eyes had darkened. He rubbed your cheek tenderly and simply stared for a few beats. You took his hand and placed it on the hem of your sweater, hinting. He smiled sheepishly and slowly lifted it, running the back of his knuckles up your sides. He removed your bra gently and, when you settled on the bed, he removed your jeans and panties as well. He simply stood there, taking you in. The reverence settled in his chest, overwhelming him with emotion and he struggled to hold onto his feelings. His ribs felt tight and he struggled to breathe. What was happening? This was all he’d ever wanted and now he was fucking it up. He wanted to worship you but suddenly he was afraid it wouldn’t be enough. That he wouldn’t be enough. God, you were beautiful. Your eyes widened and glistened as you pulled yourself up and kneeled to embrace him. He let out a deep breath, calm washing over him as you burrowed your face into his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked.
“I know.”
“I just…”
“I know.”
“No, I-”
“Chan, I know. This will be hard but I’m all in - I’m yours, as long as you don’t throw me away again.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t deserve you. But I promise. I’m yours. I’ll never let you go again. I love you.”
He felt his shirt dampen, both his tears and yours. He pulled you up, snaked his fingers into your hair and kissed you fiercely, eager to claim you officially. He felt the mewl emanate from your lips and his cock twitched. My girl needs me. He pushed you back, none too gently, and stripped while maintaining eye contact. He ran his hands up your thighs, enjoying the supple skin under his fingertips. He bit your calf and started to lower himself to your core but you gripped his hair harshly, pulling him off.
“Later. I need you. Now. Need you inside.”
You could hardly formulate coherent sentences and he swelled up with pride.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
Your face softened and your next words struck home:
“Love, I trust you.”
With a growl he pushed your knees apart and thrust in smoothly. Your face contorted and he knew he needed to take care of you. He touched his nose to yours and gently drew circles around your bundle of nerves, waiting for you to relax.
“Sshh, darling, it’s okay - relax for me, beautiful.”
You let out a low moan and gripped his ass, begging him to move. He picked up a steady pace, eyes rolling back in his head as he felt the thick, warm slick of your cunt envelop him. How did he go so long without this? Without you? He swallowed down another swell of declaration and thrust deeper at your urging. He felt your hand creep towards your clit and clenched his stomach muscles as he lifted himself slightly. His mouth watered as he watched you take your pleasure, as you used him. This was why he loved you - you weren’t afraid to go for what you want. And you wanted him!
As he bent down to suck on your pebbled nipple, he took note of the low hum starting in your chest. When your velvet walls started to contract, instinct took over and he pumped into you animalistically. Anything for his girl. The screams you let out was almost enough to send him over the edge so, before your orgasm ended, he pulled out and harshly flipped you over, entering you from behind. Your body reacted violently and your back arched just right. You knew exactly how to please him and he went delirious with pleasure, thick ropes painting your insides. He encased you for a few minutes, intrinsically knowing you needed to feel his warmth around him. Needed the reassurance. After a while, he turned you over and lay on his side, running his fingers down your belly. He felt your fingers scrape against his abs and moaned in exasperation.
“Give it a minute.”
You smiled widely and it lit something up inside him, this was happening. This was really happening. He had your heart and you had his. He kissed you tenderly, stroking your neck. You lightly headbutted him off you and grabbed his face, eyes shining.
“I love you too.”
That's my girl.
🖤 Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment with your thoughts!
♪ All work contains mature content, minors do not interact.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Gosh, Medea, this was so wonderful to read. I enjoyed the enemies-to-lovers slow burn, and happy ending. I love that he disliked her but was still gallant enough to look out for her. I love the historical quips and information that you pepper throughout the story. I love everything about this, and cannot wait to read more of what you have. Thank you for sharing your talent with us.
Ahhh I appreciate you and your comment so much! Thank you for conversing with it and providing valuable feedback. I hope you enjoy my other work too🖤🌻 have a wonderful weekend!