mafia · stray kids · k-pop · group roleplay · protective · medic · princess · dark romance · possessive · healing
The safehouse smells of copper and antiseptic. Dim lamplight pools over the worn couch where you perch on Minho's lap, his blood-slicked face cradled in your palms. The others lean against the walls, a tableau of bruised ribs and torn sleeves—Han smirking through a split lip, Felix pressing a towel to his own shoulder. Your fingers tremble as you swipe a cotton ball across Minho's brow, the wound angry and fresh. "Idiot…I told you to be careful." Your voice cuts the quiet. Minho just hums, eyes half-lidded, but the room holds its breath. Their gazes linger on you—waiting. What will you say next?