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star lost with you | hyunjin au

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him.

there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again.

he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you.

hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

fic type: written series

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, mature content, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden (?) romance, slowburn (!), soulmate au (kind of), star-crossed lovers

status: ongoing.

if you’d like to support me and my writing, you can buy me a coffee here! thank you so much.

comment to be a part of the taglist, if you’re interested !

playlist | my discord server | moodboard #1 #2 #3 #4

1. the boy in the art store

2. the night at the bowling alley

3. strawberry streusel

4. endless supply of twinkies

5. the aftermath

6. the perfect present

7. remnants of dreams

8. neon painted hearts

9. the morning after

10. the tickets were just an excuse

11. imagine you in the night sky

12. the summer carnival and him

13. his love account book

14. farewell, neverland

15. cruel summer

16. mosaic broken hearts

17. right where you left me

⇢

anon list (taken emojis) 🧚‍♀️

⇢

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

some of the stories may contain mature content, only interact with if 18+, warnings are mentioned before each part. my page, and the stories are not intended to be read by minors.

please scroll past my blog if you’re uncomfortable with fanfiction as a form of creative writing. thank you !

only fools fall for you | hyunjin sm au

synopsis:

you’re excited to finally get a new start at university, majoring in the thing you love the most; dancing, and you’re positive that absolutely nothing can ruin the quintessential college experience for you.

that is, until you run into your lifelong rival, hwang hyunjin and to make things worse…you can’t seem to get rid of him.

pairing: dancer! hyunjin x dancer! reader

fic type: social media au + written parts

genre: college au, angst, enemies to lovers, smut, mature content, friends with benefits, some fluff, slowburn (!)

status: complete

if you’d like to support me and my writing, you can buy me a coffee here! thank you so much.

masterlist:

playlist

yns squad

hyunjins squad

1. a fresh start

2. not a cat, minho

3. i need new friends

4. number one fan

5. a hopefully hot boy

6. bane of my existence

7. i blame felix

8. a beautiful dancer

9. did you just defend hyunjin

10. be more passionate

11. the enemy you know

12. should i be offended

13. is this even legal

14. the bar is so low

15. not a bad kisser

16. ready, ready baby

17. the morning after

18. what happened last night

19. showstopping

20. being sick

21. im gonna kill him

22. a pretty face

23. dramatic entrance

24. distracted

25. communication can help

26. the world would be a better place

27. get back at him

28. what i want

29. nothing to hide

30. you’ve matured

31. beautiful face but a terrible personality

32. one and done

33. you sound whipped

34. i want you to

35. does this make up for it

36. don’t say no

37. play with fire

38. weather forecast, wet

39. more important than ramen

40. you up?

41. not fighting anymore

42. english lit can wait

43. am i allowed to kiss you

44. red lights

45. the view

46. corn dogs

47. chaeprincess

48. i hate people

49. looking out for hyunjin

50. talk to yeji

51. how can you be sure ?

52. happy birthday han

53. everything okay ?

54. what happened in high school

55. happy for you

56. safe space

57. what’s kkami

58. yeji knows

59. moving on

60. you need to get out

61. unforgettable night

62. daisy

63. hatred is a strong word

64. not afraid to show it

65. hopeless romantic

66. not your business

67. have faith

68. little star

69. epilogue part 1 : the world is a better place

70. epilogue part 2: look where that got us

Hwang Hyunjin Fics recs Pt. 1

bold = completed, italics = on going, 🌸 = personal favourites

Written Series

Star Lost With You by @/hyunjinspark 🌸

On Tour by @/seospicybin (Hyunjin x Reader x Felix) 🌸

Starlost by @/jeonginify 🌸

Twin Flame by @/hwajin 🌸

Velvet Opiate by @/hh0320

Four of Wands by @/straywrds

Hotel Vermillion by @/cb97percent

goodnight n go by @/cosmic-railwayxo

FREEZE 땡 by @/j-0ne25

Hunger by @/under-and-over-the-moon 🌸

Mine by @/milkandhyunnie

All for Nothing by @/hyunfilms 🌸

Begin Again by @/starrgaziinggg

Enough For You by @/lotus-dly

The Zone by @/cb97percent 🌸

Experienced by @/ballelino

Hell Above by @/kim-miyeon

Red Moon by @/lixiepeach (OT8x Reader but HyunChan focused)🌸

No Catching Feelings by @/puppy-byun 🌸

Sharp Edges by @/straywrds 🌸

Dangerous by @/minghaoyoudoin

The Guy Next Door by @/jl-micasea-fics

SMAUs

Only Fools Fall For You by @/hyunjinspark

All I Know is Your Name by @/imagine-a-life-like-this

I Fell For You By Accident by @/imagine-a-life-like-this

Technical Difficulties by @/ahgastae

Crush Culture by @/1-800-hyunlix

It's Just A Mistake by @/seosracha

Love Risk by @/feelbokkie 🌸

I Choose You by @/3rachasaucy

How We Fell by @/strayzid

saudade by @/strayzid 🌸

The View by @/luvrhyune

Sweet Like Candy by @/staysuki

Star-Crossed Enemies by @/mingiswow

The Boy is Bad News by @/milkandhyunnie 🌸

Watercolor by @/jinhyun 🌸

Yellow by @/burningupp

how to get back at your ex by @/telesvng

Maybe it's not our fault by @/cosmic-railwayxo

Hearts Full of Honey by @/staysuki

Heart Attack by @/cupidsheqrts

Chit Chat by @/sugrlamb

Pt.2 (i'm sorry i read too much)

In my dreams

Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.

Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

skz song series

cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.

a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3

You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.

But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.

Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.

You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.

Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.

And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.

You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.

So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.

You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.

You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now. 

You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks. 

"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks. 

"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.

"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words. 

"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will. 

"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen. 

"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."

You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice. 

"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all." 

Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.

"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.

"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."

"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."

"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.

"I’m not coming."

"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.

"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.

"I’ll see you at 5?"

"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.

Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.  

"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.

"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.

"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.

But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.

Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.

Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.

But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.

So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.  

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.

For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.

You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.  

"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused. 

"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it." 

You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right. 

"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up. 

"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest. 

"I already watched this movie."

"Really? Why are you watching it again?"

"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out. 

You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue. 

His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.

"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.

"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.

You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.

"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"

"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.

"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.

"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.

"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.

"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.

"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.

"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."

Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.

"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.

You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.

You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.

The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.

His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place

"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?

"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.

"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.

"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.

You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.

Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.

Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.

It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-

"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.

"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.

He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.

"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"

"No?"

"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."

"I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.

"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.

You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.

"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous." 

"I do?"

"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face. 

"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."

This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time." 

A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.

"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem." 

I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away

"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world. 

"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently. 

"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice. 

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rythme, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.

You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much. 

Bonus 

"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.

"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.

"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.

"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.

"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."

"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.

"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.

"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.

"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."

writing is so fun

he's just a kpop boy to YOU, not to me though we signed marriage documents

oh I could never say that tbh

I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life but at least I’m not a Larrie

lee know arms

favorite genres of lee know (14/?)

masterlist | l.mh

last updated: 20/12/2022

notes:

- all suggestive/smut works depict minho as a softdom! unless stated otherwise.

- all works depict reader as a fem bodied sub.

- do NOT interact with my 18+ content if you're a minor, ageless, default or empty blog.

- i do not take requests, however soft/hard hours are always open to discuss ♡ and i might write something based on it if i'm inspired/motivated enough.

- anything in the "prompts" section could be used as inspiration for other writing, just make sure to tag me & link back to my post ♡ i would love to read it!

- please keep in mind that english isn't my first language, so i apologize for any grammatical mistakes or if something doesn't make sense haha

[the content on this blog is purely fictional and in no way represents lee minho or stray kids as individuals.]

— fluff

• prompts/soft hours

bento lunches. sticker. soft cuddly minho. sticky notes. peachy. sleepy night banters. kdrama night. nightmares.

• short blurbs

sweet cravings.

minho comes back from his workout session all tired and craving something sweet. a pleasant surprise waits for him at home.

attention ft. languagexflowers, rachalixie & septicrebel

when you're working on your laptop and he wants your undivided attention.

insomnia.

when minho can't sleep so he makes it your problem.

• drabbles (2k+)

first snow.

having a crush on your manager was already bad enough. but him offering to walk you to the subway station after work made it even worse... or better?

— very suggestive

• short blurbs

dizzy.

upon seeing you in nothing but his tank top, minho can't hide his (not so normal) fascination with your small chest.

when dori interrupts*events*

a morning-after round two is interrupted by dori, the number one cockblocker, literally.

drunk on you.

slow makeout sessions with pleasure-dom!minho.

pussy cat: Prologue. (see: smut - drabbles)

minho jokingly calls you pussycat and upon seeing your -very not normal- reaction, proceeds to be a whole menace about it.

— smut

• prompts/hard thoughts

condescending minho. his athletic duality. making a mess on his leather pants. throat training. being condescendingly sweet. when you strain your moans. strength difference kink *tw body image. pussy slapper/tapper minho. he needs you but you had a long tiring day. marking & humming. sickly sweet minho & denial. he treats you like his cats. minho & edging. his extensive foreplay. dumbification. legs up.

he controls a vibrator on a dinner night at home. ft. tasteracha

cockwarming him while on your desk.

he controls a vibrator while you watch a movie.

minchan teasing you (ft. chan). op: channiesposts

• short blurbs

dessert with a view.

going on a picnic with no panties on.

tag teamed.

minchan threesome prompts (ft. chan).

addicted to you. op: channiesposts

when you make him beg for his release.

new pleasures.

minho is determined to make you cum from nipple play only.

take it.

minho fucking you on a chair. that's it.

breathe.

when you feel so overwhelmed that he has to remind you of basic survival instincts.

louder.

minho didn't know slow sex could make you this loud. in his dorm.

versatile chef.

ogling at your boyfriend's hands while he cooks makes you blurt out that you've never been fingered before. he takes matters into his own hands. literally.

ambidextrous.

being able to use both hands just as well can be very useful, minho knows that better than anyone else.

floaty.

after being fucked into a trance where you can't tell what's safe or not, minho has to make sure you're taken care of.

sweet treat.

for minho's birthday, you cater to both his love for sweets and your body.

• drabbles (2k+)

pretty boy.

taking your chance to take care of your dom after a long day, you shower him with praise until he submits under you... or not? body worship go brrr.

pussy cat.

a joke about minho loving his cats more than you takes an unexpected turn as he tries to show you that he loves you the most.

© lino-nyangi on tumblr. please do not repost to other platforms, translate or claim as your own!

instead of you [party twenty-eight] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

Jisung was waiting on the bed when you made it back to your room. He raised his eyebrows expectantly when you came into view.

“So where were you?” he asked. 

All you’d responded to his text with was be right there, not giving him an answer of any sort. You had tried to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse for why you weren’t in the room yourself, but that had evidently backfired on you since you still had nothing. You’d tied your wet hair back in the hopes of making it look less obvious that you had just taken a shower since you were still wearing your dirty clothes, but that was honestly the least of your worries

“I was with Minho,” you answered, figuring a half-truth was better than a full lie.

“Doing what?” 

“He felt bad for me, I guess. Didn’t want me to be alone so he invited me to hang out.”

Jisung seemed to buy it, but he still looked confused. “You know you didn’t have to say yes, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I know. I said yes because I wanted to. Your brothers can be fun to be around.”

 “I guess,” he murmured.

“Not as fun as you, don’t worry,” you reassured him. 

“I wasn’t worried!”

“Sure you weren’t.”

He brushes you off by shaking his head in denial before changing the subject. “Anyway, did you guys eat? Are you hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“I think there’s a place down the street that’s still open where we could go grab some soup, if you’re feeling up for it.”

“Sure, but didn’t you already eat with Felix?”

“Yeah, I was just gonna tag along so you could have some company.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

The streets were unsurprisingly empty. It was strange to see the wide sidewalks devoid of all of the foot traffic you had grown accustomed to in big cities like this. The restaurant Jisung had mentioned was a little hole-in-the-wall noodle shop squished in between department stores. A flickering neon sign hanging in the window above the door was the only indication that it was still open and you still hesitated before pushing open the door, just in case it was actually closed and they had forgotten to turn off the sign. 

It was about as busy as you’d expected. There were couples and groups of friends scattered throughout the room, all grabbing a quick bite to eat at the only place whose kitchen was still open at the late hour. 

Everyone else was dressed to go out and you were still wearing your stupid Han Family Vacation t-shirt. Jisung had put on a hoodie over his so at least you weren’t matching. 

He helped you order from the English menu and then picked a booth for you both in the back of the restaurant. 

“Thanks for this,” you sighed, holding up the receipt and gesturing to the place.

“Least I could do after ditching you.”

“You didn’t ditch me, Ji. I had to practically beg you to go to that thing with Felix.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.”

“You’re so stubborn!” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Why do you think we’re best friends?”

“Because you didn’t know anybody when you started school and I was the first sorry sucker that you stumbled across.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Shut up.”

You tried to kick him underneath the table but he saw it coming and moved his leg before your foot could make contact. 

“Nice try.”

A server delivered your soup shortly after the kicking incident and dropped off a plate of dumplings as well. You almost told them you didn’t order them, but Jisung simply thanked them and slid the plate over to his side of the table.

“I thought you already ate,” you mumbled in confusion.

“I did but that was hours ago,” he responded defensively. “And I know you hate eating alone.”

You smiled gratefully and leaned down to slurp up some of the broth from your miso soup. It burned your tongue a little, but you still managed to swallow it. Soup was best piping hot anyway- unless of course, it’s a fruit bisque or gazpacho, but that’s a different story. 

When soup is hot, you can feel it warming you from the inside out. That’s why everyone eats it when it’s cold outside or when they’re sick with chills. At least, that’s what your mother always told you to get you to eat soup. 

The miso soup wasn’t your mother’s chicken noodle that was actually from a can, but it still comforted you the same. Your cramps had already subsided from the medicine you took… and from the orgasm Minho had given you, but food also soothed the ache. 

“Want a dumpling?” Jisung offered, holding one of the wontons out to you with his chopsticks. 

You opened your mouth as an answer and he fed it to you, nearly dropping it into your soup in the process. 

“Pretty good, right?” he asked. 

“Very good,” you agreed. 

Once you were both done you cleared your bowls and set them in the bin by the door, thanking the cashier again before letting yourselves out. You were in no rush to get back to the hotel, but you did have to get up early the next day to get everything on the itinerary done before your flight in the evening. 

You took another shower when you made it back to your room, saving yourself the trouble of lying to Jisung again. You needed to get the fried food smell out of your hair anyway. 

You crawled into bed after trading the shower with Jisung, willing yourself to fall asleep before he was done so that you wouldn’t have to lie awake next to him feeling guilty like you had the night prior. 

It must have worked because the next time you opened your eyes it was light outside. It was your alarm, not the sunlight, that had woken you up though. You rolled over with a groan to shut it off, noticing you had a couple of texts from Minho. Jisung was waking up next to you so you ignored them, turning your phone face down on the bedside table just in case he looked over. 

“Ready for another day of family fun?” he groaned. 

“Always.”

You got ready together and packed the rest of your things in your suitcase. Since you were only in Beijing for a couple of days, you hadn’t really made the effort to unpack. Everything was easily stuffed back into your luggage in a matter of minutes. You helped Jisung with his while he brushed his teeth. He had always been slow to get ready. 

Despite your best friend’s speed or lack thereof, you and Jisung were the first ones down in the lobby. The rest of his family members trickled in slowly. First Felix, then Minho, and finally his parents. 

You checked your bags with a luggage storage facility a block or so from the hotel so that you could walk around the city without worrying about it. The service was actually quite cheap and came with an option to insure your items just in case anything were to happen to them. You didn’t have anything valuable in your belongings aside from your laptop, but even that wasn’t anything crazy expensive. You couldn’t say the same of the rest of the Hans. Minho’s backpack alone was some fancy brand you didn’t recognize. Dom paid the extra fee for the insurance and herded everyone outside so that you could make it to the Forbidden City before scrambling to the airport. 

- 

You’d think with how much traveling you’d been doing in the past month that you’d be used to the chaos of airport security and customs but somehow you were still caught off guard by the TSA agents randomly selecting you to be searched. 

“Fucking again?” you muttered to yourself as they pulled you aside.

“You’re just lucky, babe,” Jisung said sweetly with a pat on your back.

This time, he waited for you while the rest of the Hans went ahead to the gate. It didn’t take as long since you were the only one from the group that was selected. 

“They’re about to start boarding, c’mon,” he ushered you through the terminal as soon as you were released, leading you by the hand as you weaved through the crowds. The whole ordeal gave you a strange sense of deja vu. 

His parents were waiting by the front desk at the gate. They explained that Felix and Minho had already boarded and that you and Jisung should go ahead and board too while they sorted something out. 

“Do you think everything’s okay?” you asked as you scanned your boarding pass. 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he assured you, not sounding entirely confident in the matter. 

“I can take the middle seat this time,” you offered, shimmying through the aisle so that you could walk and talk to Jisung at the same time. 

“Are you sure? It’s a long flight.”

“I’m sure,” you insisted. “You’ve sat in the middle like every time so far.”

“That’s because I want you to be comfortable.”

“That’s very chivalrous of you.”

“I know, I’m a great boyfriend.”

You rolled your eyes and let Jisung squeeze by to settle into the window seat before sliding in next to him. You made eye contact with Minho as you hovered in the aisle. He was a handful of rows back with Felix and some stranger. He raised two fingers to his eyebrow in a cocky little salute, making you roll your eyes yet again. 

Minho’s pick for the family trip was Bali, Indonesia. Unfortunately, there was no direct flight to Bali from Beijing which meant that you’d have to make two connections before finally touching down on the island. 

Jisung told you that he picked it because he was a sucker for nostalgia. Apparently, the three of them had visited together a few years ago during one of the tour legs for his backup dancing and had the best time. He had loved it so much that he’d wanted to go back ever since and bring their parents but was so busy that he never had the chance until now. 

The seat next to you stayed empty until the very last minute, giving you the false hope that you’d score extra space. It was eventually filled by a girl who looked to be about your age, who greeted you and Jisung politely before sticking her AirPods in her ears and ignoring you entirely.

You could tell that your best friend was into her as soon as he laid eyes on her. She was exactly his type- thick, tall, and she wasn’t giving him an ounce of attention. She checked all of his boxes.

“Keep it in your pants,” you muttered, unsure of whether she could hear you and/or speak English. You didn’t care either way.

“I wasn’t going to do anything,” he shot back defensively. 

“Yeah, well your eyes are about to pop out of your head. Dial it back.”

“Shhh!”

“Oh sorry, am I embarrassing you?”

“Yes, kind of.”

“Sucks.”

“You’re the worst wing-woman ever.”

You nudged him subtly with your shoulder. “I’m not a wing-woman, I’m your girlfriend.”

“I know, I know.”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Yes, dear,” he sighed and laced his fingers with yours. 

You leaned over to whisper in his ear. “Maybe she could be our third.”

His eyes widened. “Really?” 

“No!”

In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind having a threesome with a stranger, especially if they were as pretty as the woman next to you. It wouldn’t be your first time. But you could never cross that line with your best friend, especially now that you were involved with Minho.

You felt a little guilty for cockblocking him since you were getting laid, by his brother of all people, but there was just no feasible way to make it happen for him. 

“Even if you did have enough game to pull her, there’s no way you’d be able to get away with a quickie in between flights.”

You kept glancing at the girl next to you out of fear that she was listening in and totally creeped out and horrified by your conversation about her, but she still had her earbuds in and appeared to have dozed off. 

“You don’t know what I’m capable of!”

“Yes, I do! I’ve spent too many nights in your living room being forced to hear what you’re capable of.”

Jisung scoffed at you. “Perv.”

“What part of ‘forced to hear’ didn’t click?” 

He glared but didn’t respond. Your whispering was beginning to get heated so you mutually decided to stop talking for the time being so that no one would be able to overhear you. Instead, you just traded increasingly absurd looks until you both got bored. 

Jisung was the first to fall asleep, slumping against the wall of the plane in a position that couldn’t be comfortable. He’d forgotten to close the shade of the window so you leaned over and closed it for him so that the setting sun wouldn’t wake him up. 

You were about to join him, leaning over to rest your head against his shoulder when your phone buzzed in your back pocket. You weren’t used to receiving notifications on a plane, but the airline you were flying had in-flight service. You had to shift awkwardly in order to reach your pocket and not wake either of the people beside you up. 

The message made you want to scoff aloud. 

M: is ji asleep?? come to the back ;)

You sat up straight and craned your neck to try and catch Minho’s eye, but his head was down, probably buried in his phone. 

Y: what? no.

M: why not

Y: just because he’s asleep doesn’t mean i can come see you for no reason that’d be weird

M: are you just saying that because you’re afraid he’ll wake up?

Y: well yeah kind of

M: he won’t

Y: you don’t know that

M: c’mon, i’ll make it worth your time

Y: can’t you just tell me what this is about

M: but that ruins the surprise :(

Y: what surprise could you possibly have 30,000 feet in the air

Y: and don’t say your dick

M: …

Y: you’re so fucking annoying

M: all i’m saying is i haven’t joined the mile high club yet

Y: this is a commercial flight with your entire family. we’re not fucking on this plane.

M: worth a shot

Y: you’re insufferable

M: you love it

You sighed and put your phone face down in your lap, taking a quick glance to your left to see if Jisung was still asleep. He was still slumped against the wall with his eyes shut, seemingly dead to the world. You tried to do the same but it was hard from the middle seat. You were paranoid that if you were to doze off you’d accidentally lean over onto the stranger next to you. You’d seen enough rom-coms to know how awkward that would be.

You settled on scrolling through the in-flight movies on the little screen attached to the seat in front of you. You’d have to buy a pair of earbuds to watch anything, but you figured it would be worth it if it meant you wouldn’t be bored out of your mind for the next three hours. 

There was a mix of Chinese and international films but everything was dubbed in Chinese either way and only a select few offered English subtitles. You picked one that you’d seen a little bit of press for back home and bought the earbuds from a flight attendant when they came around with the snacks. 

-

It was late when your first flight landed and everyone was feeling worn out from all the tourism and traveling but you still had two more flights to catch before you’d finally be in Bali. The layover in the Hong Kong airport was two hours and you spent it trying to sleep whilst curled up next to Jisung in one of the stiff leathery chairs in front of the gate. Your exhaustion allowed you to fade in and out of consciousness fairly easily, but you were having trouble staying asleep. Each time you’d drift off you would suddenly jolt awake in a panic, thinking you were late for something. 

Every time it happened, Jisung would assure you that he’d wake you up when it was time to board the plane, that you could rest, that they wouldn’t leave without you. Eventually, you gave up on the idea of getting any sleep altogether and resolved to just stay awake until you were on the next flight. 

“I know this is the part of the trip where everyone’s getting tired,” Dom had said when you were walking from one side of the Hong Kong airport to the other, “but that’s why we saved the more relaxing destinations for the latter end- so we can all get some rest.”

His words did little to comfort you considering most of your energy was being spent keeping up with all the lies you were telling everyone but you smiled and nodded with the rest of the group anyway, trying to play along as always. 

The second flight was about the same length as the first and this time you got the window seat. Jisung sat in the middle with Felix on his right and Minho and their parents filled up the row behind you. 

“You should sleep,” Jisung suggested, brushing your hair out of your eyes. 

“I’ve been trying to,” you grumbled back, unable to soften the tone of your voice. 

You felt bad for snapping at him. He didn’t deserve that. Not after everything else you were doing behind his back. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled in apology. 

“It’s okay. I know you’re tired,” he assured you, making you feel even guiltier. “Do you want me to rub your head?”

You could only shake your head in response, not trusting yourself to speak. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to cry and turned your head towards the wall as your eyes welled up with tears. You didn’t even try to stop it, knowing it would be even more obvious if you did. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hide it from Jisung either, even if he couldn’t see your face. He knew you too well, knew your body language. But he didn’t ask about it, likely not wanting to alert Felix, who was oblivious, that anything was wrong. 

Thankfully, the crying exhausted you even more and you were able to fall asleep, only to be woken up again when the flight landed at the second layover stop.

It was a shame that you wouldn’t be able to properly visit Malaysia but at least their airport was pretty nice. It had been several hours since you’d last eaten so Nikki ordered a bunch of food for everyone to share from the only kiosk that was open in the middle of the night. You shared a thing of white rice with Jisung but you didn’t have much of an appetite to try anything else which was a bummer since you didn’t know when you’d have another chance to.  

The third and final flight was a few hours later. By then, you’d had a little food and sleep so you weren’t feeling as dramatically miserable as before but the numb feeling of guilt still lingered in your stomach. You assumed that wouldn’t change- not until you came clean to Jisung about… everything. And you couldn’t see yourself doing that any time in the foreseeable future because you were a pussy. 

You’d rather end this fling with Minho now and take it to your grave than lose your friendship with Jisung. Was sleeping with someone twice considered a fling? Regardless, you had to end it before you got too attached. You weren’t sure what it was for Minho, but until he said otherwise you would stay under the impression that it was just sex. Again, it didn’t really matter what it was. You just had to put an end to it. You weren’t sure why you thought you could finally give into the sexual tension just because Minho found out you weren’t actually dating his brother but it didn’t matter now. It was too late and you were already suffering the consequences of your actions. 

You’d given Jisung the window seat again which left you sandwiched in between him and Minho this time around, and being so close to him was making it difficult not to think about the intimate moments you’d shared with him. Your arms were just barely brushing against the armrest and yet that was the only part of your body that you could feel. He was just so warm that your attention was drawn to wherever your bodies connected- be it your arms, your lips, your thighs… but you couldn’t think about that now. Not when you were trying to cut yourself off from him in order to save your friendship. You wouldn’t have sex with Minho again. You couldn’t.

You were shaken from your thoughts by Minho nudging your shoulder. You gave him a questioning look, wondering what he would have to say to you with your best friend sleeping right there. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, smirking as he did. 

“Wanna have sex?”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!

iou tags: @gimmeurtmi @phobia0325 @fwess @hipsdofangirl @galaxleeknow @urmomma0324 @bangmechanpls @102598s @farfromsugafanfic @ritzy-roo @dimpledsatan @bvselines @wonderfulshinee @imwithurmother @smollquokka @rosexjimin @skizzel @endzii23 @lady-lena @kwanisms @ch4nniebang @lilramennoodle @babyphotos0325 @dearalice @sojohns @mistlitmoonlight @yoontaethings @babebatter @mal-lunar-28 @shy-kisu @zerefdragn33l @downbadreading @sana-within-you @saquso @bunnispaces @reianagarcia @hyunehans @imtooyoungforthisshit @i8rsie @honeslykindahorny @214racha @hgema @chillllllli @vixensss @smhlino @feiyaa @borahae-reads @bigbearenergy @hoodiesandicedcoffee @darkacademic2512 @y00nzin0 @i8yul @shinypieceofgarbage @woozarts @just-a-little-delulu @djeniryuu @hbzzzbork000 @mimzibee @sofiaslayed @kangyounghyunhands @lexxxxs-things @baejinswrld @gaysontheprince @emogril @ngengngeng

add yourself to my taglist here!

STOLEN LOVE

Synopsis: Bang Yn and Lee Minho were the perfect couple in all their college, just two sweethearts who fell in love with each other, so why Yn suddenly breaks up with Minho to go back in Australia? No one knew the answer. Now, three years later, she’s back in her city but she has a someone else with her: her daughter, Aera, Minho’s daughter. What’s going to happen when her ex applies to be Aera’s babysitter?

Pairing: LeeMinho x f!reader — non idol Au, college Au

Genre: exes to lovers

Warnings: Minho is a bad boy, mention of sex (well they have a baby so), some angst (i will try my best to make you guys cry), a very protective Chan

Characters: Stray Kids, Jake from Enhypen, Rosé from Blackpink (she’s a soloist here), Christian Yu.

Starting: 01/07/2023

Send ask/comment to be added to this series taglist!

Permanent taglist

Profiles

Aussies (+Jeongin) | the workers ( + Hyunjin)

Chapters

↬ 001. Aera (written)

↬ 002. Bro’s wild

↬ 003.F in chat for Han

↬ 004. Yn found work

↬ 005. Momma’s boy

↬ 006. Am I Cupid?

↬ 007. Ariana what are you doing here?

↬ 008. light skin stare

↬009. Dada

[More to be add]

Permanent taglist: @kailoveskpopstuff @aishidaishi @zoeeeeeeeeee @toshijimafarms @mynameisnotlaura @meowmeowisdaname @soobin-chois @vampcharxter @phenomenalgirl9 @crazyllamasurfer @tasteskz-sworld @teti-menchon0604 @uno7 (i can’t tag you anymore sorry) @lethallyprotected @marcillfll @bangchansbae @kpopstanforlife2007 @lenilla15 @beautifulcolorgarden @whitney321

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

hi bbs. i'm participating in my first kinktober throughout the month of october in the form of a collab with @gimmeurtmi and @tasteracha. we'll be taking turns writing for different days.

i will not be using a taglist. check in with this masterlist each day for a new link. as always: dni if you are under 18, do not repost to other sites, share your feedback with each author and enjoy!

DAY ONE — breeding kink with chan

DAY TWO — edging with seungmin

DAY THREE — spit kink/oral fixation with minho

DAY FOUR — body worship with changbin

DAY FIVE — exhibition with hyunjin

DAY SIX — corruption with chan

DAY SEVEN — sensory deprivation with felix

DAY EIGHT — bj with seungmin

DAY NINE — a/b/o with minho and hyunjin

DAY TEN — voyeurism with jeongin

DAY ELEVEN — guided masturbation with felix

DAY TWELVE — shower with jisung

DAY THIRTEEN — camcorder with minho

DAY FOURTEEN — cockwarming with chan

DAY FIFTEEN — intercrural/frottage with jeongin

DAY SIXTEEN — toys with felix and jisung

DAY SEVENTEEN — strength kink with changbin

DAY EIGHTEEN — size kink with chan

DAY NINETEEN — in public with hyunjin

DAY TWENTY — dress up/roleplay with minho and seungmin

DAY TWENTY ONE — cumplay with felix

DAY TWENTY TWO — thigh riding with minho

DAY TWENTY THREE — blindfolds with seungmin and jeongin

DAY TWENTY FOUR — corruption/priest kink with hyunjin

DAY TWENTY FIVE — free use with chan and changbin

DAY TWENTY SIX — somnophilia with jisung

DAY TWENTY SEVEN — library with hyunjin

DAY TWENTY EIGHT — corruption with seungmin

DAY TWENTY NINE — mirror with minho

DAY THIRTY — sensory deprivation with changbin

DAY THIRTY ONE — halloween with ot8

PERIOD

blue side of the sky (lmh) | eleven.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut

—word count: 4.1k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, a little look into mrs. pak and oc's relationship at work, mentions of cancer, flashbacks - one is just a random little moment with friends and the other is more oc x minho centered.., oc x san content, most of this is centered on oc's feelings 🥺

"So, are you seeing your friend today?" Mrs. Pak turns to you while you stand at the register, smiling as she puts a small bouquet together next to you.

"San?" She nods. "Yes. We're just going to eat and catch a movie."

"Sounds like a date?" You giggle.

"Nooo." You elongate your response. "We're just friends, Mrs. Pak."

"Have you guys hung out before?"

"Every now and then, we'd see each other for a meal or to walk around. Nothing too extravagant." You chuckle. "We talk almost everyday."

"That's sweet. Do you enjoy his company?"

"I do. He's very nice. I feel comfortable around him, and I feel like that's been hard for me post-accident." You look at her. It hasn't been long since you've started working with Mrs. Pak, but she was easy to confide in. You opened up to her about your accident, losing your mom and not remembering those details— losing every bit of you and not remembering things before the accident. You told her you felt like you were finally settling in in this world, this new chapter, new reality. It's been very difficult, but you were starting to feel comfortable and at ease.

The same thing goes for Mrs. Pak, as she's had help come and go in the shop. But, she's never felt so.. content and happy with your presence. You could simply walk into the room and Mrs. Pak feels like she'd never be alone. For awhile, she's felt alone— especially after she suddenly lost her husband to cancer.

But now, you're here and she feels better. Happier. More alive.

And she's not sure how you do it, but she is grateful. She is grateful you are helping, she is grateful you care. She is grateful you are here.

"That's good, no? It's important that you surround yourself around good people." You smile.

"Yeah. I agree."

"What if he likes you?" You raise a brow and shake your head with a small giggle. "I mean of course, you can always be friends. But, what if?"

"Then, I'm not so sure. He's very sweet. I just don't think—" You let out a breath. "I don't know—" Pause. "Maybe I'm not ready?" But, before you can follow up with an explanation, Mrs. Pak is jumping in.

"I don't think it's that, love. I think you'll be ready when the right time comes." She smiles. "I think you have your mind set on someone else." You blush.

"W-what? No." 

"I can see it in those lovely eyes of yours, dear." She giggles as you look back down to your hands, remembering the time you've been spending with your friends, with Minho— times at the studio, his café, random kick-its in the city.

Most importantly, you think about how Minho started to feel more and more like your bestfriend. But lately, he's felt a little warmer, a little closer. He looks at you a little differently, keeps you close a little differently.

Like you are his bestfriend,

Like you remind him of love— a certain memory, probably a certain form of love.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | HANGING OUT AT THE FOODIELAND NIGHT MARKET A COUPLE OF NIGHTS AGO

"Dude, dude, dude!" Jisung excitedly calls out. "I need to try those garlic noodles with the lobster. Ooh, and the bungeoppang?!" Jisung starts to point in every direction. "Wait, the ramen burgers—"

"Can we just make our way around?" Seungmin pushes him aside.

"Why, do you plan on eating the entire night market?" Jisung tries to be sassy with his response.

"Yeah, maybe?" Seungmin snaps back, making Chan shakes his head.

"Okay, shut up. Let's just walk." Chan starts to lead the way by walking backwards. He shoots a smile at you before asking: "What about you though, Y/N? Anything catch your eye? We'll go there first."

"Hm, I'm not sure yet. I'm kinda down for whatever." You shrug a bit, tugging at the ends of your sweater sleeves while Minho stands next to you.

"Garlic noodles it is!" Jisung says with a little dance, causing Seungmin to smack him upside the head as the group starts to make their way over to the food booth.

"Are you okay? Are you cold?" Minho looks down at you with concern.

"A bit. I probably shouldn't have left my jacket in the car, huh?" You giggle and he nods.

"Have to say Jisung was right for that one." He does a slight head tilt before he's removing his zip up and placing it over your shoulders. "Better?"

"Oh, Minho. You don't have to, you're in a t-shirt—" He shrugs.

"It's okay, Y/N. I can live." He chuckles a bit. "It's not too bad for me. I'd rather you be comfortable than not." You slip your arms into the sleeves.

"Thank you." He smiles.

"Yeah." He continues to remain by your side as the group falls in line at the first food vendor. Jisung is venting about his coworker to Seungmin and Chan, his eyes subtly falling on Minho's jacket that you're currently wearing.

"You shouldn't have left your jacket in the car, cielo." Jisung does a slight pout. "Do you need me to run back and—"

"No, it's fine! Minho's will do." You look up at Minho and he nods in agreement.

"It's fine? Why stress?" Minho furrows his brows at him, making Jisung shrug.

"Okay then. Don't come crying to me when you get cold." He points at Minho.

"Why on earth why I do that? I wouldn't, even if you were the last person here."

"Good, I don't wanna help you anyway." Jisung spits back, making you roll your eyes and shove him forward."

"Pachi, the line is moving." He inches forward with another shove from Chan.

"Why is everyone fucking pushing me today?!"

"Because we can literally lose our spot in line!" Chan says with a low groan. "I knew this was gonna be a headache." He continues to go on while him, Seungmin and Jisung stand in front of you and Minho. The line continues to move until your group is at the front, with Chan offering to pay for everyone to make it easier. 

Afterwards, the group decides to make their way around to get drinks and dessert— you opting for some sugarcane juice and bungeoppang that you'll share. You slide yourself onto the top of the picnic table, with Minho standing next to you; Jisung, Chan and Seungmin occupying the rest of the space on your opposite side. 

"This was really good." You set aside the noodles and sip on your juice. 

"See, what'd I tell you?" Jisung smiles. "So good. I think I'm gonna go around some more."

"For what?" Seungmin asks.

"I wanna try some other stuff." Jisung stands. "Anybody wanna come?"

"I'll go." Seungmin joins him.

"Pass." Chan adds. "I'm actually going to check out that booth really quickly." He points at one of the retail vendors, stretching as he stands and gets ready to head over.

"I'm good." You say with a small smile.

"Same." Minho says before sipping on his drink.

"Party poopers." Jisung says. "Cielo, text me if you want something else." You nod, watching as they turn and start to walk back towards the food booths, Chan already at the retail booth he was eyeing. 

"You sure you don't want anything else?" You shake your head and raise the bungeoppang up to Minho. 

"No, this will do me some good. Split this with me?" He nods, taking the bungeoppang as he sits next to you and makes an even split down the middle. You smile as he hands you your piece, gobbling it up quicker than expected. Minho smiles just as you finish up, wiping your hands on the napkin by the table. You miss some crumbs at the corner of your mouth, and he's suddenly having to force himself to not reach. Though, it feels like the worst internal battle and he knows he's going to lose this one the moment you look back up at him. "W-what?" You look at Minho staring at you, confused. He smiles and laughs a bit before he takes his thumb to the corner of your lip and wipes away at the lingering crumbs. You watch, blushing as he takes his thumb away and wipes it on his napkin. "Oh."

"All good."

"You sure?" You ask and he chuckles.

"I think so." He tilts his head to the side to quickly scan the other corner of your mouth. "Yeah, you're good."

"Thank you." You smile toothlessly at him and he wants to scream. God, you're so cute. Why was he such a fucking dumbass? "You're taking care of me a lot tonight."

"I'm happy to."

☁︎ END

You look down at your hands, unsure of what to say. Because Mrs. Pak is probably right— no, she is. You're just not sure what it means for you, or him. 

He is your bestfriend.

Why do you feel much more for him? 

Why do you feel connected at a much, much deeper level?

Too attached, almost.

"I hope you know that it's totally okay. But maybe, it's something you'll need to confront earlier than later. To keep your friendship with San?"

"You're right." You tell her with a small, pursed smile. "If it comes up tonight, I'll just.. be honest with him."

"It's the only way to do it, hun." You nod in agreement before shifting your attention to the couple that just walked in.

The rest of your shift goes by rather quickly, with you cleaning around the shop and helping make one last bouquet before San strolls in. He has a huge smile on his face, waving to you just as he makes his way closer.

"San, hey." You giggle as he makes it to the counter, eyeing the single roses off to the side.

"Hey! Sorry, am I bit early?" You shake your head as you wrap up the bouquet you were working on.

"No, I'm just finishing this up!" At this point, Mrs. Pak comes out from the back of the shop after rearranging the pre-ordered bouquets for tomorrow. 

"Hi." She smiles at him. "You must be San."

"And you must be Mrs. Pak." He reciprocates the smile and shakes her hand. "I've heard a lot about you! Good things."

"Oh, good. I'd hope so."

"Is it okay if I steal Y/N away for the remainder of the evening?"

"Of course." She winks at you as you undo your apron and hang it on the rack behind the counter. "Please keep her safe."

"Absolutely." He says. "It was really nice to meet you, Mrs. Pak. I hope to see you more often."

"Likewise." You bid your goodbye to Mrs. Pak, ensuring she'd be okay to close up before leaving. You throw your jacket on as you walk out of the shop, following San out onto the street— the sun heavily beaming down, giving its last burst of energy before it slowly sinks below the horizon. You quickly glance over at Sunday Morning, then shift your attention to San. "How was work today?" He asks as he leads you down to the main street.

"It was good! A bit busy, but nothing too bad." You continue to look up at him as he walks alongside of you. "What'd you do today, Sannie?"

"Hm, I worked out this morning, did some groceries and cleaned my apartment."

"Sounds like another good, productive day."

"It was. I like it when my days are good and productive." You laugh.

"So, where are we going first?"

"Well, I thought we should try out this place a few blocks down that is popular for their unagi." He smiles. "Hm, then there's Peace Piece nearby that has some good pies. I really like their drinks too."

"That sounds yummy."

"Yeah?" He laughs. "Good to know. Hopefully it'll be Y/N approved once we eat." You giggle and nod, reassuring him that you'll find any place he takes you to delicious. The walk is nice at this time of day, some streets busier than others, but it's nice. It's not long until you get to the restaurant, where San has already made a reservation to avoid the long wait. You're immediately seated in the far corner of the restaurant next to the windows, with San pulling out your chair first before settling himself in. They serve water and tea while the both of you skim through the menu, with San voicing out his recommendations and what he thinks would be good to order.

At this point, you're hungry and you agree to his plan. Everything on the menu looks amazing, and you trust San's taste.

You spend some time talking about your days and how things have been, and San has been unloading some of his work drama while you eat away. He talks about how he wants to travel again soon, but this time with JJ and their friends— whenever they all are ready and can align on schedules. Which, turns the conversation to his time away and how scary it was for him at first. San has always openly talked about being away and how different it was, but he's never really had a chance to touch up on his feelings about the entire thing. You're glad he's comfortable confiding in you, because you feel the same way. You feel like you could be honest with San, and you genuinely find a true friend in him.

As promised, he takes you to Peace Piece after since there's time to kill before the next plan. The both of you share a big, hefty slice of banana cream pie to top everything off. Afterwards, San takes you to the movies since this is the only weekend they're holding a special Studio Ghibli event. Surprisingly, you don't run into anyone you know being that the theater is located in a popular plaza.

At least to your knowledge.

Too bad Minho was around with some friends, and he does catch you with San— even though you're a good couple of feet away from him. He sees you holding onto San's arm, the two of you engaging in a lively conversation that has you laughing and smiling at him on your walk over to the movies.

And his heart breaks.

No wonder you hadn't been so responsive today. Maybe you really did like San, and Minho needed to accept it. Because he's been unfair to you before, and he'd hate to do that again. You deserved to be happy; whatever that happiness looked like to you.

He would never get in the way of that.

"Dude let's just go to the restaurant down the street, I'm hungry." Hyunjin says to one of their other friends, beginning to lead the way. "—Coming or what?" Minho barely catches onto his last question because he's too focused on watching you and San walk into the theater. It pulls him out of his thoughts enough to respond with a silent nod and a pursed smile.

Long fucking night ahead for him.

San bought two tickets for Spirited Away, selecting seats in the middle section of the theater. You plop onto the comfy, recliner chair, watching as San props his feet up and also gets comfortable. He leans over to ask if you want anything to snack on, but you tell him you'll pass as you're still feeling stuffed from dinner and dessert. Shortly after, the theater fills up and the movie is off to a start.

You're enjoying the movie so much that you miss the way San glances over at you from time to time, softly smiling at the way your eyes light up at every scene, how you're so focused and full of curiosity. Your hand rests on the middle console and San feels like such a silly little boy for even having the thought, but he acts on it anyway— resting his hand on the console right next to yours, hand slightly twitching, aching, to pull yours into his.

You don't really notice it though, at least not right now. The movie brings these small bits and feelings of nostalgia, and suddenly, you miss your friends.

Minho.

Not that San was bad company, but you kinda wish he was around.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when you feel San's hand brush over yours. You look at him and he politely asks for permission through his eyes. You give him a tiny smile and he proceeds to lace his fingers with yours. His hand is warm, and it doesn't make you uncomfortable. It feels nice, but it also doesn't feel right.

In a way where you think your hand belongs in someone else's, how your fingers are meant to be laced with another's.

Warmth felt from another's hand.

San holds your hand for the rest of the movie, even as you walk out of the theater and out to the car. He opens your door like the true gentleman he is before hopping in his seat and driving off to another location. He mentions the small beach near your house and you nod, going along with his plans since he's been great the entire night. You like spending time with San, there's no question about it.

But, you know why he wants to take you to the beach.

You know why he has that look in his eyes, you know why he looks at you the way he does.

You have to be honest, it's the only way.

Arriving at the beach, there's only a few cars parked in the lot with people walking along the sand or sitting to watch the waves under the night sky. San puts the car in park, but he doesn't get out. The car is still on, just to have the soft music playing in the background.

Thank god, it can at least fill the void when you tell him the truth.

You are nervous.

"It's so pretty tonight. The sky is so clear."

"I know, isn't it?" You lean forward to get a better view of the moon, and the way its light hits the surface of the water. "I don't remember if I used to come here often, but I hope I did. It's perfect."

"I'm sure. There's no way you'd let the opportunity pass." You both chuckle. "I.. actually wanted to talk to you about something. I figured this would be the perfect setting for it, especially before ending the night." He settles into the driver's seat before looking at you. "I honestly don't even think it's a secret anymore, but it doesn't even matter." He says with another nervous chuckle. "I wanted you to know that my feelings for you have grown." He looks at you, genuinely and truly looks at you. And it breaks your heart that you don't feel the same, that you can't be this person for San even though part of you kinda wishes you could be. "I can understand if you're not ready or anything, I don't want to rush you. But, in the amount of time we've gotten to get to know each other and hang out, I've come to care for you. A lot. We get along really well, and it's been awhile since I've felt this way with someone. Since I've felt so comfortable. And, this might sound like a stupid line but I really think you're perfect. I mean that. "

"San." You say in a gentle tone as you grab his hand and caress the top with your thumb. "You're seriously the sweetest. It's really flattering to hear that, and I'm really glad I can make you feel comfortable and everything. I really am happy that you were able to open up to me." You let out a small, shaky breath before subtly biting your lip and fiddling with your fingers. You gain more courage to look at him again, eyes wide and full of worry. But, the longer you take to respond fully, the more he begins to understand, the more he knows where this is going—

And he should've prepared for it. He should've expected it. But, it still stings a bit.

You will always be his.

You will always be Minho's.

"I—" You start but San shakes his head. "I just don't want to ruin what we built. You know? As friends. I really am grateful we've gotten close."

"You don't have to explain, Y/N." He gives off a small laugh.

"No, but, I'm just afraid. I'm.. not sure I can be the person you need me to be, San. You're amazing, you're good at everything, you're incredibly sweet—" You sigh. "I'm re-learning how to exist and I don't even know where things will take me." Truthfully, you didn't think he would be able to understand you, understand this— all of you. And you didn't want to be that pressure for him, that time-consuming, that much of a responsibility.

Because you know you will be.

"I understand." He says with a soft smile. "But, you are doing great, Y/N. Don't ever discredit yourself. You've gone through a lot and you haven't given up. Plus, look at you. You're getting back into the things that you love."

"I'm sorry, Sannie. I really am." You say, close to a whisper. "I wish I could be that person for you, but I'm still trying to figure myself out. You deserve someone who can give you their all and be present with you throughout everything and anything. I'm so sorry." You repeat.

"Don't be." He lifts your chin with his finger and gives off a tiny chuckle. "Don't be, okay?" He repeats. "I promise you everything is fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." You give him a reassuring, toothless smile. "But, Y/N?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"You should tell him." You furrow your brows at him with a slight head tilt. 

"But—"

"I can just tell." He chuckles a bit before starting the car. "I'm sure he wants to talk to you about it, too."

☁︎ FLASHBACK | THE OTHER EVENING

"Hi." You race to your phone in the kitchen after showering and getting ready for bed, noticing it's Minho on the other end.

"Hey. Sorry, didn't mean to bother." You chuckle.

"I'm just at home, Minho. You're not a bother at all. Are you okay?" He sighs and nods, even though you can't see him.

"Yeah, kinda. I'm just really tired. I wanted to drop by and hang out with you for a bit, but I can barely keep my eyes open." You look at the clock and notice how it's barely 10pm. Minho must be exhausted lately.

"It's okay. You can always swing by on other days." You plop onto your bed after shutting off your lights, though you opt to keep your christmas lights on even as you settle under the sheets.

"Yeah." You can hear him yawn a bit before shuffling in his bed. "How was your day?"

"It was alright. I just went to the pottery studio before my shift at the shop."

"Cute. What did you make today?"

"I attempted to make a Kirby planter for my succulents." You chuckle. "Keyword is attempted. I hope it turns out okay because I need to re-pot my succulents soon."

"I'm sure it'll turn out great." He smiles a bit. 

"Did you have a busy day?"

"Very."

"Why don't you sleep?" You softly ask him as you lay on your side, exhaustion slowly hitting you as well.

"Mm, I wanted to hear your voice." He responds. "I didn't get to see you so I— I thought I could at least call you and talk to you." You giggle.

"But, you're tired. Are you sure that's it?" Minho thinks about your question because no, that's not it. Not at all. He wants to tell you how much he misses you, and how much he's been thinking about you. How he wishes he can hold you and kiss your cheek, your hand. How he always gets butterflies when he sees you because he likes you— 

No, loves you.

Because he does love you.

He fucked up.

He loves you.

"Minho?" You call out for him. "Are you still there?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"I thought you fell asleep."

"No. I was thinking about something."

"Like what?"

"Stuff." You chuckle.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I hope you know you can always talk to me about anything."

"I know. I just.. nevermind." He sighs and shuts his eyes. "I need to sort out my thoughts first, that's all."

"Hm." You hum. "Okay." It's obvious Minho is holding back from whatever he needs to say, but you will never force him until he's ready to. 

"You might hate me for it." He suddenly says, close to a whisper.

"Why would I ever do that? There's nothing wrong with sorting through your feelings." You say in a way that's so innocent and so.. caring, that his heart does flips in his chest. It aches. "I couldn't hate you even if I tried." It's this statement that makes Minho's heart officially crumble into pieces because even though it's reassuring to hear—

He knows there is a possibility you will.

"I don't know." He chuckles a bit. "I'm just tired I guess, I'm kinda going off the rails now."

"Go to sleep soon. I'll sleep too."

"Okay." He pauses. "Y/N?"

"Yes?" He pauses again. You patiently wait on the other end even as your eyes shut.

"I—" He lets out a breath. "I hope you rest well." He deflects.

"I hope you do, too. Will I see you this week?"

"You will."

"Try not to think about it too much now, okay? I don't want you to go to bed upset." You sleepily say.

"Hm." Minho hums. "I'll try to."

☁︎ END

♡ taglist: @ppiri-bahng @jihanlovic @meloncremesoda @sweetlikecherry @asjkdk @hoes4lino @skzddicted @skzho @edgaralienpoe @harui-zen @bestleeknowstan @havenwithleeknow @septicrebel @heesdazed @borahae-reads @yoontaethings @pearbunny @bintificreads @lukeys-giggle @ajxreads @everglowdaisies @allaboutsan @endzii23 @leeknowsramen @heres-your-ramen2000 @morningstardada @mal-lunar-28 @downbadreading @lilysophie @feelikecinderella @urmomma0324 @ddazed-lhs @djeniryuu @melanctton @i8rsie @maru-matt @sleepyleeji @taerifin @nattisbored @jisunglyricist @m111nho @drhsthl @nixtape-foryou @arminseas @guiltycoco @syuuji @sulkygyu @cadihyo @reianagarcia @leeknowyah @smndjdufuehr @dprkbyn @xxibreinaxx @mxnsxngie [bold = can’t tag 😭]

LOOKALIKE ; jang wonyoung

non-idol! jang wonyoung x non-idol! reader

SYNOPSIS ;  wonyoung hated herself for letting y/n go, almost as much as she hated her annoyingly smug girlfriend (who everyone hates except for y/n). she knows it's probably too late, but that's not gonna stop her from trying to get her back.

TAGS ; non-idol x non-idol! reader, university au, college au, wlw, angst, fluff, idol au, exs to friends to lovers, slow burn, crack, smau

WARNINGS ; strong language, drama, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation and abuse, slut shaming, overworking, toxic school life, mild violence, suggestive jokes, suicide jokes, mentions of sexual acts

FEATURING ; ive, aespa, kim minju, jo yuri, choi yena, mentions of itzy, nmixx and various other idols

STATUS ; ONGOING!

UPDATE TIMES ; 3x a week! (monday, wednesday, and friday)

PLAYLIST!!

profiles. SUMA. WYS-THERAPISTS. 01S-AND-THEIR-BABIES. HAIKYUU-IRL.

chapters.

01. SHE WANTS A HAPPY COOKIE FAMILY

02. i MISJ HER SMM

03. BRO THAT'S GAEUL??

04. does she look like this

05. wonyoung?

06. what? x3

07. bc i love you

08. let me be delulu

09. unlike you

10. on my way!

bonus: all too well

11. REI DELETE

12. sum naruto shit

13. keep smiling.

14. men from itaewon

15. IS IT ME???

16. pls [REDACTED] me

17. yh ok wtvr.

18. pissy pants

bonus: she was better

19. A HICKEY?

20. PARTY???

21. Y/N. GO.

22. eat a dick

23. ill give you a whore

bonus: mansion parties

bonus: jimin's l/n y/n.

bonus: wish you were sober

24. where r u?

25. HUUUUH?

26. in secret.

bonus: peace.

27. you're a minjeong

28. KILL NAOI REI.

29. adopt a friend!

30. virgin

bonus: gravity

31. WHAT IS THAT?

32. love birds

33. ill txt u ltr

34. more than me?

35. this.

36. sexy number

bonus: why.

37. my crescent roll

38. baby pls.

39. hyewon

40. youre so cute

41. TAKE UR MEDS?

42. flowers

43. idc

bonus: minjeong-unnie

44. i need you

45. jiyn

46. huh :D?

more to come...

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@serenitygrace24 @moontealemonpie @writingficsblog @kittyeij @cutieseo @limbforalimb @ahnneyong @yumtooki @lcv3lies @sserajeans @jiwoneiric @babycubchae @trsrina @xyxlyn @misumiausworld @slowlyturninggay291 @awkwardtoafault @captivq @ddeonutz @noiacha @sserabey @d7dream @slowlyturninggay291 @lvwr @perfectsunlight @forever-in-the-sky2 @juhyunsthirdwife @uzumakioden @txtbrainrot @rosiehrs @yunjinhart @skisk1 @bzeus28 @deeznutzryu @jisooftme @danistolemyheart @li0ilthecxnt @eggomi @ddoxhan @zhivaxo @sweet-dhrafts @livelaughloveyujin @luveuly @marimo-anura @yunnybunnyy @ivy-aurora @wonyoluvr

lee minho masterlist

⋆ ★lee minho | leeknow | 이 민호

sfw and nsfw &lt;3

sfw

1. you are hurt, i know- a | leeknow looks at the scars running down your body and a frown graces his delicate features. when you turn away, brushing away his concerned gaze, his chest tightens with an inexplicable feeling of discomfort. when he sees you finally find comfort in the warm arms, he feels the deeper sorrow.

you will never find comfort in his arms.

secret agent/spy au, unrequited love, mentions of violence, scars, dark past, featuring jungkook from bts, wc- 4K

2. -its cold outside, come to me- a, f, st | it was the christmas season once again which meant two weeks away at your family’s vacation house. the only problem? lee minho. your brothers annoying best friend who was joining you this time. whats worse? you both hate each others guts more than anything.

enemies to lovers, brothers best friend, heaps of angst, extreme tooth rotting fluff to make up for the angst, christmas themes, cliche tropes and moments, basically self indulgent, wc- 8K+2K= 10/11K

part one- its cold outside come to me

part two- 24 to 25 bae, just stay with me

3. nickname- a,f | - you and minho have been best friends for years, too close for platonic feelings but you’re both too stubborn to acknowledge that. that is until minho starts seeing you get close to another guy and feels the sudden wave of unfamiliar feelings, no he firmly believes that its not jealousy.

female reader x minho best friends to lovers! requested- no,wc-1.6K

4. i’ll hide you in my heart- a, f | lee minho was supposed to love you like an elder brother, you were his best friends little sister after all.

female reader x minho, brothers best friend au! forbidden love au! college au! angst, suggestive, fluff, swearing, mentions of sex, alcohol use, menstruation, negative views on menstruation, allusions to bullying, implications of sexual activity, clubbing, overprotective older brother chan, emotionally constipated minho, oblivious love, repressed emotions, slow burn. wc- 10K

____

nsfw

1. you want the both of us?- s | working for stray kids was a dream come true. however, you’d never expected to catch the eye of the two most dangerous members who were after your heart. will you be able to handle both of them? and the dangers they bring for your heart?

minho x female reader x hyunjin, mentions of friends with benefits, casual sex scenes mentioned, public sex, smut, fingering, oral, protected sex, petnames, multiple partners, sex in public places, blindfolding, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, threesome, FILTH but with PLOT, very dirty lmao

requested- yes, wc- probably 20-30K

release date-  december

part one, part two- tba

2. 7:42 pm | leggings- s | “your ass looks hot” - lee minho

working out with your boyfriend led to some other *uh uh* not so decent activities. but hey, you sweated and your heartbeat reached peaks, maybe it was a good active session after all.

smut, suggestive, ~sexual tension~, foreplay, mentions of sex, use of petnames, kinda pervy leeknow lmao but only for his girlfriend,

requested- no, wc- 0.5K

3. covetous- s |  you were fangirling over another members abs, and minho couldn’t have that happen

female reader x lee minho, smut, nothing too detailed or graphic, just a drabble,

requested- yes, wc-0.5K

4. 8:45 pm - s | don’t send minho nudes when he’s at work. don’t. / smut

5. you know how to move kitten- s | you loved how your boyfriend looked in thigh chains and corsets and you just couldn’t help yourself.

female reader x minho, smut, pwp, heavy making out, use of pet name- kitten, thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, body worship

6. free use with leeknow - smut oneshot

7. smut drabble - erotic humiliation with leeknow

-8. meeting you, loving you - a, f, s | - a loving yet lonely single father and a warm and loving pre school teacher. you were just supposed to be a friend he and his daughter found comfort in but when his heart sings for more, he cannot help but cave in. 

or

the one where minho ends up meeting you and then loving you. 

female reader x minho, acquaintances to friends to lovers, single dad! minho, slow burn, emotionally constipated characters, obvious romantic feelings, repressed emotions, smut, explicit sexual content but only in part two, part one is smut free and second part can be skipped, swearing, alcohol use.

wc- 12K + 6K = 18K, release date- 5 september

skz masterlist

Chapter 12: The Mess We Made

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, choking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: “Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?”  

“What?”

“You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them” he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. “You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I’m an asshole but I’m also brutally in love with you.”    

Keep reading

instead of you [part twenty-four] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, smut adjacent... you'll see (mdni)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

Jisung was gone when you woke up the next morning. The sheets beside you were cold, meaning he hadn’t been there for a while. You reached for your phone to see if you had any messages from him, but when you checked it there was nothing. 

You didn’t have much on the itinerary today so you could go back to sleep if you wanted to, but you figured you should probably get up and find Jiisung before doing anything else. 

You got dressed and ventured into the living area, stumbling across Minho sitting shirtless on the couch. You suppressed a sigh, and brushed past him into the kitchen. Jisung wasn’t there either. There was tea brewing in a kettle on the stove so you knew he couldn’t be far, but you were back at square one with your search. 

Reluctantly, you sulked back to where Minho was. It was hard to ‘keep your distance’ from him when you were sharing a living space- even if you weren’t sharing a room anymore. 

“Do you know where my boyfriend is?”

Minho flinched, like he didn’t expect you to address him, but recovered quickly, lips easing into a smirk. “What, am I not good enough company?”

It was especially hard to keep your distance when he said things like that- mostly because you wanted to smack the grin off of his face. 

You scowled. “Do you know where he is or not?”

“He’s on the balcony.”

You left Minho where he was and found your best friend exactly where his brother said he would be. He was sitting with his mother at the dining table with the book he’d borrowed from you laying open on the glass surface. 

You could tell he’d responded to some of your annotations from the different colored ink in the margins. Neither of you had very good handwriting so it could be difficult to tell apart, which is why you always wrote in different colors. You used black pens, Jisung used blue. 

Leaving little messages between the pages of books was you and Jisung’s thing, well, one of your many things, but you found yourself wondering what it would be like to annotate a book for Minho. Would he think your dumb jokes were funny? Would he like the same lines as you? Get annoyed by the protagonist- you stopped yourself there, unable to go any further with that train of thought. Sexual fantasies were one thing, but domestic fantasies... you couldn’t let yourself go down that road. 

Nikki was the first to notice you standing there and she waved you over with a grin, pulling out an empty chair for you. 

“Good morning! How’d you sleep?”

“Really good, thank you.” 

Jisung spoke next before you could return the formality. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. I thought I might have to go in there and wake you up before we head out to the museums.”

You forced a chuckle as you settled in the seat, throwing your best friend a glare when his mother wasn’t looking. 

“Your tea is almost ready,” you said, suddenly remembering. “The kettle was making a lot of noise.”

“Oh thanks, baby.” Jisung leaned forward to push himself up, but his mom beat him to it. 

“I’ll get it, you two stay here.”

“Are you sure, mom?” he asked. “I can just go grab it really fast.”

“No, no,” she assured him. “I’ve got it.”

“Thank you.”

“Would you like any, y/n?” 

You shook your head. “Oh, no thank you.”

“I’ve been trying to get her on it for years, trust me. She’s partial to coffee.”

“She’s my one true love, I can’t cheat on her.”

The truth was you did drink tea sometimes, but you didn’t really care for the way Jisung made it. 

“You’re in tea’s birthplace,” he argued. “If you’re going to have it anywhere, it should be here!”

“And to your point, if I drink tea here, I’d rather go get it from somewhere authentic.”

Jisung shrugged in defeat, cracking a smile. “Fair enough.”

You waited until Nikki was inside to shove him.  “Can you not make me look bad in front of your mom?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“I sleep in late, I don’t like tea?”

He chuckled, still rubbing his arm. “Those aren’t bad things!”

“You’re Korean. Isn’t not liking tea considered treason?” 

“Well, you’re not Korean.”

“Exactly, I don’t want her to think I’m some classless American or something.”

“She doesn’t! Where are you getting these ideas from?” he cocked his head to the side, voice tinged with concern. “She loves you, trust me.” 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. 

“Nothing to be sorry for,” he assured you and grabbed your hand, giving it a quick squeeze. 

You tried to relax a little, rolling your shoulders and your neck to relieve some of the tension. 

“You okay, baby?” he pressed, running his thumb along your knuckles. 

Just then you heard the door to the apartment open and close. Nikki appeared at the table a moment later with a mug in each hand. 

“Thanks, mom,” Jisung said gratefully as he accepted the drink from her. His eyes flitted back to your face, still waiting for your answer. 

“What are we doing tonight?” you asked, deciding to change the subject.

He hesitated before answering, like he didn’t want to move on without knowing what was bothering you. But you didn’t give him much of a choice. 

“Minho and Felix were mentioning getting drunk tonight.”

“Again?” you mused, making Nikki grin as she took a sip of her tea. 

Bold of you to say, for someone who usually spent her weeknights at a fraternity house. You could tell Jisung was thinking the same thing. He quirked an eyebrow up at you in question, but thankfully didn’t verbalize his thoughts. That would definitely be something to tarnish your character in his mother’s eyes if he were to mention it in front of her. 

“I think the bar upstairs is doing a karaoke night or something. Wanna go?”

Jisung still didn’t know about the decision you’d made to avoid alcohol. Because knowing that would mean he’d have to know about why you’d made said decision. You didn’t think you would ever be able to tell your best friend that you’d kissed his brother- or that he’d kissed you for that matter and then you’d kissed him like a week later while you were completely sober. 

He also didn’t know about your other agreement, the one that you’d made with Minho, the one where you had agreed to stay away from each other. 

So you just nodded easily in agreement, resolving silently to be the designated sober friend of the night, even though you didn’t have to drive anywhere. 

Of course, it was foolish to think that alcohol was to blame for your decision-making. You knew it only lowered your inhibitions. It didn’t alter the chemistry of your brain or turn you into a different person. But you hoped that staying dry, or somewhat dry, for the rest of the trip would help keep you out of trouble. 

-

“Come on, y/n, you have to do a song!”

It was Minho, of course, who was urging you to get up on stage and make a fool of yourself in front of the entire bar. 

“Trust me, you do not want to hear me sing,” you insisted. “And this isn’t me being humble or anything. I’m not hiding some incredible talent like girls do in the movies, I promise.”

“That’s never stopped you before!” Jisung chimed in. “You love karaoke. Are you embarrassed because they’re here?” he nodded toward his brothers and you stared down at the table without answering, pretty much confirming what he’d suggested. 

And he’s right, you do love karaoke, but that’s because most of the time you’re halfway to blacking out by the time you get on stage, and this time you’re stone-cold sober. All of the fun of karaoke comes from being too gone to care that you’re ruining a cultural masterpiece and doing a disservice to whoever the original artist is. 

The only people who enjoyed doing karaoke sober were people with a humiliation kink. 

Plus, this bar was a lot nicer than the bars you were used to doing karaoke in. Everyone was dressed in semi-formal attire, including yourself, and you didn’t know if you’d be able to relax in this atmosphere. 

“We could do a duet,” Jisung offered. “I know we do a pretty decent Wish I Was a Cowboy.”

“We cannot do a country song here.”

“Then what song do you want to do? You pick.”

“I don’t know,” you whined. “Do we have to?”

“We don’t have to, but I know you’ll have fun. You always do!” You grumbled under your breath because you knew he was right. “Maybe you just need a little more liquid courage, hm?” Jisung pushed your drink closer to you with a knowing grin. 

He didn’t know the daiquiri in front of you was actually a virgin daiquiri, didn’t know you’d slipped away to the bar when you said you were going to the bathroom to ask the bartender to make your drink nonalcoholic. 

You knew the only reason you were hesitating on getting up on that stage was the lack of alcohol in your system. 

“If you do a duet, Minho and I will do a duet,” Felix propositioned. “And you can choose the song.”

Now that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. 

“Fine. Get me a shot.”

“Atta girl.”

-

Twenty minutes later the DJ was calling you and Jisung to the front of the room. The tequila was still burning your throat even though you’d chased it with your daiquiri. You could tell Jisung was feeling it too from the way he grimaced and cleared his throat before standing from his seat. 

You took his hand and let him lead you through the small crowd. The bar was probably a little busier than it was on a normal night because of the event, but it still wasn’t packed. 

Still, the amount of people you were going to have to sing in front of made you nervous. One shot had turned into three, against your better judgment, to try and shake the anxiety and you were definitely feeling it, but the nerves hadn’t subsided. 

The DJ confirmed your song choice with Jisung and then reiterated it to the audience in Mandarin and English. You’d chosen Kesha’s “We R Who We R” on a whim. It wasn’t really a duet song, but you knew all of the words and you knew your best friend did too. 

Your eyes found Minho’s automatically- even with the stage lights shining in your face, even with the sea of people in front of you, you were drawn to him. You told yourself it was because you already knew where he was, you’d just been sitting there, and he was familiar. You were nervous, and you didn’t know anyone else here other than Jisung’s brothers. Of course you’d look for comfort. 

He gave you an encouraging thumbs up as the music started to swell from the speakers and you forced yourself to look away, cheeks burning. The tequila had been a bad idea. 

Thankfully, the song was over as soon as it started. At least, that’s how it felt. One of the reasons you didn’t mind karaoke was that you’d black out the second you stepped foot on stage and then regain consciousness once you were finished performing. It was fun because you weren’t self-conscious of embarrassing yourself in the moment, and then you’d get to laugh at yourself later if one of your friends had filmed it. 

“Great job,” Felix complimented upon your return to the table. Minho clapped Jisung on the back approvingly. 

“Y/n carried,” Jisung said proudly, leaning back and placing a hand on your thigh. “She always does.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t even remember what we just did. The song started playing and that’s it. I came back to when they were all clapping.”

“Well your autopilot is very impressive,” Felix continued. 

“Thanks. Years of practice.”

“What do you mean?” Minho asked. 

“It used to happen all the time in high school too...” you trailed off, mumbling the next part. “I was a theater kid.”

“What?” 

Jisung smirked at your embarrassed expression while his brothers gawked at you. “Makes sense, right?” he teased. 

“Shut the fuck up,” you spat. 

“That explains so much,” Minho whispered. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Anyway, you did great, babe,” Jisung said. “Promise.”

“As long as I hit most of the notes I’m happy.”

“Okay, now pick a song for me and Minho. We’re up in a few more rounds.”

Felix passed you the book of choices for you to look over, even though you’d already flipped through everything when you and Jisung went. Instinctively, you looked up to Minho for some kind of guidance. You didn’t want to pick something they wouldn’t like. But he just grinned.

“Pick your poison.”

You ended up recruiting Jisung for the decision since he knew the two boys way better than you did. He pointed out a couple of options for you to choose from and you eventually went with Promiscuous Girl by Nelly Furtado and Timbaland which proved to be a mistake. You chose it because you thought they’d make fun of themselves and have a good time with it, and they did, but Minho also pulled out a side of him you’d never seen before and that was a problem. 

It was a problem because he took Timbaland’s part and the lower octave definitely had an effect on you. Not only that, but the way he worked the stage like he owned it made your insides twist. He was pretty confident on a normal day, but this was on a different level. It was clear that he wasn’t taking himself too seriously, but that he also knew how to perform, which was making you feel all sorts of things. Instead of interacting with each other, Minho and Felix involved the crowd, acting like they were singing about them. And of course, Minho locked eyes with you and wouldn’t look away. His gaze broke away a couple of times when he turned to face different sections of the audience, but it always came back to you. 

At some point, you weren’t even registering the lyrics anymore, just watching his hips move to the rhythm like you were being hypnotized. 

“He’s such a show-off,” Jisung mumbled in your ear. “He’s got a career in dance and never lets anyone forget it.”

“They’re upstaging us,” you muttered back. 

“Yeah, fuck them.”

“We should leave,” you joked, still not able to tear your eyes away from the stage. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to stand if you tried. “We can’t stand for this kind of disrespect.”

“At least they don’t have our chemistry,” he pointed out.

“That’s true. We have that advantage. It would have been a little concerning if they did.”

Jisung laughed, and nodded in agreement, turning his head back toward the performance. 

It was like Minho could feel the shift in your attention, like he knew you were fully focused on him again, because he threw a wink in your direction, biting his lip to suppress a smirk.  

“Jesus, are they trying to seduce the entire bar?” 

Nope, just me.

He was probably just doing it to be annoying, to get under your skin or something. He was the one who had said it was a good idea to keep your distance from each other so you knew it didn’t mean anything. 

Still, you felt hot all over and stole a sip of Jisung’s drink to try and cool down. You’d already finished yours. But you forgot that his actually had vodka in it and almost spit it all over the table. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” your best friend asked frantically, hitting you a couple of times on the back in case you were choking. 

“Just strong,” is all you were able to manage. 

“Here, I’ll get you some water.” 

“No, I got it,” you insisted. “I have to go to the bathroom anyway.”

That was a lie, but you did want to splash some cold water on your face to ease the heat that had risen to your cheeks during Minho and Felix’s performance. The song was over now and you didn’t want them to see you so flustered so you needed to be gone before they came back over to the table. 

You were up before Jisung could protest, and wove through the tables to the back of the bar where the hallway for the restrooms were. You were nearly there when you heard your name being called from behind you and you whipped around before you could think better of it. 

It was Minho, because who else would it be? He had his hands in the pockets of his slacks, Rolex just barely peeking out from where it was fastened around his wrist. You hated that you noticed that. You hated that you noticed the veins that traveled up his arms and disappeared under the rolled sleeves of his white dress shirt. You hated that you noticed everything about him. 

“What are you doing back here?” you asked. 

“Looking for you,” he confessed. “Thought you might’ve been upset.”

“Upset about what?”

He took a step closer to you. You were tempted to back away, but you stood your ground. The hallway was already pretty small and in a couple of moves of this chess game you were playing with him you’d be backed into a corner, literally. 

“About the karaoke thing.”

“What karaoke thing?”

“Well, it could be a number of things,” he explained. “I feel bad about pressuring you to do a song when you didn’t want to, for one.”

“You didn’t pressure me.”

“I kind of did.”

“Not any more than my own boyfriend was.” 

He shrugged indifferently, but it was stiff. His shoulders moved up and down in a rehearsed manner. It didn’t come naturally. 

“It’s just karaoke,” you added. 

“Well, yeah, but then I also thought you might be upset about me and Felix’s song- or my part of the song, I guess.”

Had he noticed you acting weird? Or was he suddenly remorseful over eye-fucking you for three straight minutes in front of your boyfriend? Either way, you weren’t sure why he would care. 

“I picked the song, why would I be upset?”

“I mean, you got up as soon as it ended. I thought you might be rushing out because I overstepped or something.”

“Do you think you overstepped?” you asked, throwing the ball back into his court. 

Minho pressed his lips into a thin line as he contemplated how to answer your question. 

“Not everything is about you,” you scoffed before he could respond, even though you had definitely just been running to the bathroom to splash water on your face because of him. 

He blinked, clearly not expecting you to take the conversation in that direction. “I know.”

You put your hands on your hips and cocked your head to the side. “Do you?”

“Listen, I know things between us are complicated-”

“You’re the one who said we should stay away from each other, yet here you are following me to the bathroom. Where does Jisung think you are? What if he comes to check on me?”

“He won’t.”

“How do you know?”

Minho sighed in exasperation, taking a hand out of his pocket to run it through his styled curls. “Do you ever stop worrying?”

“I think the situation warrants it,” you reasoned. 

“And what exactly is the situation?” he asked, taking another step closer. 

“You tell me,” you countered. 

You were both dancing around it, neither of you wanting to admit it. Minho has a career in dance. Jisung’s words echoed in your head as you stared his older brother down. You knew you were going to be the one to get burned in the end no matter how things turned out, especially now that the fire was growing so out of control. Wild, destroying everything in its path. You could feel it in your stomach, the incandescence that drew you to Minho. You could see the embers in his eyes too. 

Minho was the first to make a move this time. Instead of answering, he cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back almost immediately, practically melting into him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

He steadied you by moving his hands from your cheeks to your waist. His strong frame cradled your crumbling one, and he stumbled backward as he pulled you into the men’s room. He leaned his back into the door to open it, mouth never leaving yours. 

The bathroom was empty, thankfully, but you didn’t think you would’ve cared if it wasn’t. Minho turned you around and pressed you into the sinks, teeth grazing your shoulders as he ground his hips into yours from behind. 

The dim lighting was another thing you were thankful for. That way, he couldn’t see how wrecked you already looked in the reflection of the mirror. Your hands clutched at the edge of the marble countertop as you tried to keep your knees from buckling. He hadn’t even touched you, not really, and you were struggling to catch your breath. 

Minho’s hands ran over your ass, squeezing before he spun you back around and kissed you again. Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, the alcohol in your system doing nothing to help your coordination. 

He chuckled against your mouth and grabbed your hands with his, stilling them. 

“Let me,” he whispered. 

You nodded wordlessly and watched as he popped a few buttons of the dress shirt- not enough to be completely open, but enough to show off his chest, and you felt your mouth go dry as you shamelessly ogled him. He smirked at your reaction and ran a hand through his hair. You didn’t even remember grabbing his hair like that, but evidently, you had gotten carried away in more ways than one.

 He grabbed your hips and hoisted you up onto the counter, laughing when you nearly fell into one of the sinks. You spread your legs for him, letting him slot himself between them as he placed a hand on each of your thighs and slipped his fingers beneath the hem of your skirt. You couldn’t help but grind yourself against him, desperate for some type of relief. The ache was getting to be too much. You felt so empty, and you just wanted something inside of you. 

“Please, Minho,” you gasped. 

“Please, what?” he quipped back, kissing you again to punctuate the question. 

“I need...” you trailed off. 

Were you really going to say it? Were you really going throw your morals out the window and fuck your best friend’s brother just because you were drunk and horny and couldn’t seem to stay away from him? Clearly, you’d stooped below the moral high ground weeks ago when you’d gotten yourself off to the thought of him, and when you kissed him. You’d already crossed so many lines, broken so many of the rules of you and Jisung’s agreement. Yet this line was the line, and if you didn’t think there was redemption for you before, there certainly wouldn’t be after this. 

It was as if you were at the gates of hell, and instead of turning away and running for the hills, you were being lured into the heat. You weren’t even trying to fight it. You’d burn willingly with Minho if he would step into the flames with you. 

Minho spoke before you could get another word in and whatever resolve you had left evaporated. “You have no idea how badly I want you,” he rasped.

“I think I might have some idea,” you teased, squeezing your thighs around his waist, effectively pressing his erection into your stomach. 

The fact that you could feel how hard he was through his pants was only turning you on more, and it made you wonder if he could feel your arousal too. Wearing a skirt hadn’t been the best idea in hindsight. The only layer between your pussy and anything else was the panties you were wearing, and the material they were made out of was pretty thin. If Minho pulled away and there was a wet patch on his slacks from you, you might die from embarrassment. 

“Wish I could take you up against the glass,” he muttered, nodding in the direction of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the far side of the restroom. “Where the whole city could see.”

The hotel bar was a rooftop bar atop a skyscraper. No one would be able to see you, and you both knew that, but the idea of it made you clench around nothing nonetheless. 

He latched his mouth to your neck and began working on the straps of your shirt. He slid them down your shoulders, exposing more of your cleavage in the process. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue on your skin, and he seemed to like that. Your sounds spurred him on, and his head dipped lower and lower until he was at the valley of your breasts. You were about to beg him not to stop when the door to the bathroom flung open suddenly, making you both freeze where you were. 

It was no one you knew, just one of the other patrons of the bar, but you were still completely mortified to be caught in such a compromising position. Minho was quick to react and shielded your half-naked body with his, holding you close to him so that the person couldn’t see your state of undress. 

The stranger turned around and left just as quickly as they’d come in, but it had been enough to break the spell. 

Minho let go of you and awkwardly stepped backward, hastily redoing the buttons on his shirt. He was quiet now and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. You knew there was no chance of picking up where you’d left off. It was over. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I don’t know what came over me.”

You straightened your skirt and hopped off the counter. You did know what came over him. It was the same thing that came over him the first time he kissed you, and the time he kissed you back, but you decided not to say anything about it. You had no room to talk anyway. 

“I, uh, I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to, because I do,” he stressed, looking pained. “But you’re my brother’s girlfriend, and that’s... that’s just a line I can’t cross. I can’t do that to him. I know we’ve already crossed so many lines... b-but as long as you’re his nothing can happen between us.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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Invisible thread

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jeonglixverse’s fic recs

here are some of my favourite fics i’ve read ! all fics listed below are all straykids :D

anything that contains smut will be highlighted in red! and all fics posted are a mix of fem!reader or gn!reader ˗ˏˋ post will be constantly updated !! ˎˊ˗

⇢ ˗ˏˋ ot8 ࿐ྂ dad!skz random texts ↳ by @seungbinbin stray kids as cliche romance tropes ↳ by @luvtak - 2.2k tender tendencies ↳ by @charmercharm3r what are we? │bit of angst, fluff. ↳ by @cosmic-railwayxo when you help them shave │fluff. ↳ by @143hyunes your mom hasn't paid me to date you this month │fluff, humor. ↳ by @jinhyun you go to another groups concert │fluff, humor. ↳ by @jinhyun

⇢ ˗ˏˋ bang chan ࿐ྂ safe with me │angst, fluff. ↳ by @thevampywolf - 2.5k insomnia w/minho │angst, smut, fluff, fwb, f2l. ↳ by @j-0ne25 - 64.9k stations and destinations │fluff, angst, childhood f2l. ↳ by @sulfurcosmos - 9.8k unprofessional │angst, smut, slowburn, coworkers to lovers. ↳ by @exxxtraoddinary - 58k myth - beach house │f2l. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 1.1k zip │smut, fluff. ↳ by @cb97percent - 3.4k

⇢ ˗ˏˋ lee minho ࿐ྂ insomnia w/bangchan │angst, smut, fluff. ↳ by @j-0ne25 - 64.9k jealousy, jealousy │fluff, s2l. ↳ by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids - 4.9k pick me ups │hurt, comfort, established relationship. ↳ by @gimmeurtmi - 2.5k youngblood │angst, fluff, bsf2l. ↳ by @changbeanie - 17.4k kiss me │fluff, established relationship. ↳ by @soobnny - 1.4k labyrinth │angst, fluff, slowburn, bsf2l. ↳ by @soobnny - 20k invisible thread │angst, fluff, slowburn, academic rivals to lovers. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 20k the only exception - paramore │slowburn, s2l. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 3.7k fields │angst, smut, fluff. ↳ by @hoes4lino - 23.5k excuses │fluff, established relationship. ↳ by @jinhyun - 2.3k angels in bodycons │smut. ↳ by @charmercharm3r - 5.2k lovely & sweet │angst, smut, fluff. ↳ by @tasteleeknow - 6.3k zipper │smut, fluff, established relationship. ↳ by @tasteleeknow - 4.3k ghost of you pt.1 pt.2 │angst, smut, fluff. ↳ by @telesvng - 15.5k & 14.8k love equation │angst, fluff, f2l. ↳ by @hanjisungz-remade - 11.5k

⇢ ˗ˏˋ seo changbin ࿐ྂ the alternative - lyn lapid │brother's bsf. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 2.5k

⇢ ˗ˏˋ hwang hyunjin ࿐ྂ somebody else - the 1975 │exes to lovers. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 2.6k

⇢ ˗ˏˋ han jisung ࿐ྂ bakcburner - niki │angst, exes. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 1.1k

⇢ ˗ˏˋ lee felix ࿐ྂ if the world was ending - jp saxe, julia michaels │bsf2l. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 3.2k all i ever wanted │angst, fluff, roommates to lovers. ↳ by @miel-ji - 6.6k playdate │s2l. ↳ by @bbujiikseu-archived - 14.8k hey, hey, golden boy! │angst, fluff. ↳ by @staysuki - 11k sunshine │bit of angst, fluff, smut, f2l. ↳ by @j-0ne25 - 7.4k

⇢ ˗ˏˋ kim seungmin ࿐ྂ in my dreams - tearliner │e2l. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 4.5k

⇢ ˗ˏˋ yang jeongin ࿐ྂ you're sexy i'm sexy - eric nam│f2l. ↳ by @astraystayyh - 1.6k adulthood can wait │fluff, established relationship. ↳ by @inniejeonginnie - 1.3k better and better │angst, smut, fluff, bsf2l. ↳ by @seungminheart - 10.9k meet cute │fluff. ↳ by @inniejeonginnie - 2.2k blue dream │smut. ↳ by @charmercharm3r - 6.1k love is blind │angst, fluff. ↳ by @momobani - 12.5k touch │fluff, strangers to friends to lovers. ↳ by @luvtora - 1.4k i saw you in a dream │angst, suggestive, s2l. ↳ by @forgottenfourr - SMAU (ongoing)

Hi!

So, I'm not much of words, that's why I prefer giving ideas rather writing, sooooo...

Can you do something like: meeting 14 year old Jeongin (while reader is 14 as well) while reader was in a holiday with her family (younger brother included that is reader's partner in crime). They meet on the beach while both of them are in holiday and they find out they're soulmates (y'know those tiktok vids of finding who your soulmate is..? Something like that happened as well, maybe, just maybe, they have a soulmate sign that colors when the two soulmates make eye contact?). First kiss with him, as well as first love, but they drift off because reader was going back home, however he gives reader something for reader to remember him.

If you will do this, I also have an idea for a pt.2 bcs imagination is something I am full of. :)

Anyway, thanks!❤️

💭i could never forget you

pairing: yang jeongin x fem!reader

an: hii omg im so sorry you had to wait for so long !! i was struggling a little with this one, because i actually haven't really seen those tiktoks and i had to do lots of research so i apologise in advance if this is not what you had in mind :(( but!! i really hope you enjoy it<3 please let me know what do you think about it and thank you for this idea, it was a challenge but a very pleasant one<3 also please don't mind any grammar mistakes and typos

“ynnnn!” your brother whined right into your ear. you closed your book with a dramatic thud and looked up at him. his hair was wet - he must’ve just come out of the ocean - and he was staring at you with a huge pout on his face. “i’m bored,” he mumbled when he finally had your attention. you raised your eyebrows. “okay? what am i supposed to do about it?” you teased him, though you exactly knew he wanted you to just do something with him. your attempt to mess with him was met with yet another whine and you giggled at that, but proceeded to get up. “fine, what do you wanna do?” you asked, looking at your parents who were sunbathing right next to you, but didn’t seem to care too much about your plans. “let’s dig a hole here,” your brother pointed to a free part of the beach. you stared at him - you could’ve expected something like this. “and then let’s fill it with water.” you blinked, a bit confused. you were pretty sure you saw something like this on the internet a while ago and it didn’t end up positively. you thought about it a little and decided that, in fact, it's not a good idea. “okay, let’s do it then,” you picked up a plastic shovel and stuck it in the sand. 

an hour later and at least four reprimands from your parents the size of the hole was satisfying for both your brother and you. “now - you’re gonna stay here and keep an eye on the hole. i’m gonna go for some water,” your brother ordered and you saluted him jokingly, but obeyed nonetheless. you sat on the sand right next to the hole, breathing in the salty air and letting the wind mess your hair a bit. you observed people around you - an old couple feeding each other pieces of watermelon, the lady holding a tissue under her husband’s chin, and a younger couple, swimming together and splashing the water on each other, their laughter echoed all over the beach. you smiled to yourself slightly, deep inside wishing for a life like this in the future. you were young, so you still had time to find your soulmate. after all, your parents met when they were way over twenty years old and your aunt found her soulmate in her thirties. on the other hand, your friend from school accidentally met her soulmate when she was ten and the way she was bragging about the “beauty of the world in colours” was making you so incredibly jealous that you had no choice but to wonder when it was your turn. 

you were brought back to reality when you noticed a boy running towards the deep hole you dug. he was chasing a frisbee, his eyes so fixated on it that he didn’t even notice that something’s wrong and he kept running. you quickly got up and jumped into the hole to catch the boy before he could hurt himself. he let out a loud yelp when he slipped but you wrapped your arms around his torso. you helped him to get out of the hole and when he did, he turned around and reached out to you to help you get out of the hole, but as you were about to stretch your arm your eyes crossed and you swore the whole world stopped. you dreamt of this moment since you can’t remember when. you often wondered - did it hurt? was it overwhelming? you had so many questions, but were too scared to voice them. but now you knew. it was almost magical, you were now drowning in the boy’s brown eyes, his black hair was tousled by the wind. you took his hand in your and let him help you, never breaking eye contact. when you were finally out of the hole, you just stood there, hand in hand with the boy, both of you too astonished to even say a word. you didn’t know how much time passed, you were too focused on your soulmate standing right in front of you. 

your mother’s voice made you finally snap from this whole trance. you dropped the boy’s hand and looked at her. she looked mad. “yn, that’s enough, i told you to stop this whole digging! someone could’ve gotten hurt. apologise to this young man right now and fill the hole with sand. and for god’s sake, find your brother before he does something silly again,” she exclaimed, sounding more and more defeated with each word. she rubbed her eyes and went back to lay on the blanket. your attention was brought once again to the boy. “where are you staying?” you asked him in a hushed tone. he pointed a finger at one of the hotels by the beach. the same as you. “let’s meet at the reception at 7, okay? i think we have to talk about… this,” you added, doing a weird gesture with your hand. he nodded, still in shock. “i’m jeongin,” he stuttered finally. “i’m yn,” you introduced yourself and hesitantly started walking towards the shore to look for your brother, leaving jeongin alone. 

your friend was right - the world in colour is breathtaking. you’d spent your whole day just looking around, taking in the beauty of everything you could lay your eyes on. you finally could see why your mom always complimented you when you wore your yellow dress, the colour of your dress accentuating your eyes, and why she liked red roses so much. you thought to yourself that you might start liking them too. 

“yn? hi.” jeongin’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. he approached you, coming out from the elevator. you looked up at him, he was wearing a green t-shirt and he was smiling shyly at you. “hi,” you replied, getting up from the chair. you didn’t really know what to do - should you hug him? take his hand? it was so hard to figure this whole soulmate thing out, but you knew one thing - you felt comfortable around him. earlier, when you were holding hands at the beach, it all felt strangely right, considering that you always avoided contact with boys at your school. 

“so um…” you started awkwardly, slowly making your way to the hotel’s garden and making sure jeongin was following you. “how are you feeling?” good, you thought to yourself, it’s a good start. “confused, i guess? i mean, don’t get me wrong, i just didn’t expect to meet my soulmate here,” jeongin answered, his shoulders relaxing a little. you hummed in response, opening the door and breathing in the fresh air. you sat on a bench, looking up at the setting sun. the sky was stunning - you could spend an eternity just admiring the colour of it at sunset. “is it too soon to ask for your favourite colour?” jeongin was first to break the silence. you took a moment to process the question, though deep down you already knew the answer. “blue. it’s the rarest colour in nature and i’ve always wanted to appreciate it even before i knew what it looked like. and now that i know, it only convinced me that blue, in fact, is a very pretty colour,” you explained, playing with the hem of your dress. “you’re pretty…” jeongin whispered dreamily and your eyes widened. you were sure your cheeks were red, but maybe not as red as jeongin’s. “did i just say it out loud?” he mumbled, hiding his face in his hands to save himself from the embarrassment. you just laughed at that, placing your hand on his back and patting it a few times. “it’s okay. i guess it’s just a soulmate thing,” you added joyfully, realising that it was real life and not a dream. jeongin placed his head on your shoulder and you sat there for a long time, talking about everything and nothing, as if you knew each other for your whole lives. 

jeongin and you became inseparable. every morning after breakfast you rushed with him to the beach, swimming together and eating fruit from a local market. your parents were happy that you found a friend on your trip and even though you spent less time with them, they didn’t mind since you were having fun with jeongin. they even let you go with him to explore the town, eating local snacks and wandering in the narrow streets that resembled a labyrinth. you were glad you could get lost in this labyrinth with jeongin. you sat on a pavement in one of those streets, eating ice cream and admiring the world in colours. jeongin held your hand - it was gentle and innocent, but you felt as if your heart was about to burst out of your chest. you stole a glance at him, taking in all the details of his face. “oh, i think you have a little bit of ice cream here,” you pointed a finger on a corner of his lips. he tried to wipe it off but he missed the spot. “no, wait. here,” you exclaimed, wiping the ice cream yourself. when you did, you looked jeongin in the eyes, realising the proximity between you two. you backed off a bit, suddenly too shy to acknowledge the simple gesture, but jeongin placed a hand on your cheek and caressed it with his thumb. you loudly gulped but decided to close the distance between you and pecked him on the lips. it was short, some might not even consider it a “real kiss”, but it left both jeongin and you a blushing mess. you dropped your eyes to the ground but decided to lay your head on jeongin’s shoulder. you didn’t say anything after that, deciding to just relish in each other’s company instead.

the day of your departure came faster than you wanted and it was time to bid your goodbye with jeongin. you tried to keep your composure when you met him in the garden, but as soon as you saw his sad, faint smile, you broke down and tears started to stream down your face. jeongin hugged you tightly, letting you cry into his chest. “i got a little gift for you,” you heard his voice after a while. you looked up and jeongin cooed at the sight of your puffy eyes. his hand dove into the pocket of his jeans and he pulled out a little bag. “it’s not a lot, but i thought it might be cool if you had something to remember me,” he added, scratching the back of his neck. you took the bag from his hand and looked inside. it was a silver necklace with a rock in it. a blue rock. you felt the tears wail in your eyes again and you didn’t stop them from falling down your cheeks. “could you put it on my neck, please?” you uttered between sobs, sniffing loudly. he nodded and did as you told him, gently taking your hair out of the way. “done. now you’ll remember me forever,” jeongin chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little. you made eye contact with him and placed a feather like peck on his cheek. “i could never forget you, jeongin.”

taglist: @rosieposieshifts @iyenbread @flooo71

let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist🩵

feedback and reblogs highly appreciated🫶🏽

My Unlikely Hero

Word Count-3027

Summary-An unplanned trip to the store has you seeing your shy roommate in a new light.

Pairing-Jeongin x f!reader

Trope-Roommates to lovers AU

Warnings- Vulgarity, sexual language, unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), mentions of blood and minor injuries, mild harassment to reader, implied physical fight, MINORS DNI 18+

Tags- @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @babesindestroyland @lemonhongjoong @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @flowerboykun @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @kthpurplesyou @changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @ssaboala @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren

As always, thank you to @cafekitsune for use of banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

A/N- This is for an ask for @labyrinthonmymind I got a bit ago, sorry it took so long for me to get to it! I'm new to writing SKZ so I hope I did your ask and him justice. This was on my mind so I hope you like the idea I got from your ask!

You’d been hesitant at first to accept a male roommate when Jeongin showed up to look at the room.  The friend you’d originally moved in with had moved out of town and you needed to rent out the room.  When you’d put out the ad, you hadn’t thought to ask for only females, and only after receiving the call from him had it occurred to you.  

Regardless, you’d had him come to look at it, trying to figure out how to turn him down if he made you uncomfortable.  Despite your reservations at first, the man who had shown up was adorable, and his bright smile had you immediately letting down your guard.  His almost shy demeanor was actually what drew you in, and he was very respectful the entire visit.  

So when no one else had inquired about the room after a few more days, you’d called him to let him know it was his to move into at his convenience.  His delight was conveyed through his voice and you couldn’t help but smile at the infectious cheeriness of his personality.  

Within two days he had moved in, and he’d been exactly what you needed, financially, and as an ideal roommate.  He was clean, respectful and quiet.  Sometimes almost too quiet, you think, watching him shut his door to head out to wherever it was that he was going for the day.  

It had been three months since he’d moved in and you’d gotten a little closer to him.  He was sweet, caring, and very upbeat when you’d gotten him to actually talk with you about anything, but the majority of the time you attempted, he would just blush and clam up.  

When he was with his friends the rare times he’d had anyone over, he was loud, laughing and smiling, teasing them when they played games.  You’d even caught a little bit of his savage sense of humor, smiling to yourself as you happened to catch him prodding at one of the guys.  

Worried that you probably just made him uncomfortable, you pulled back a bit on being too pushy.  If he wanted to open up to you, he could.  You just couldn’t help wanting to know him better, possibly even become good friends.  So as he makes his way to the door to put on his shoes, you can’t help but go to say goodbye to him.  

“Jeongin…I’m um…making cookies today!  Do you have a cookie you like best?” you ask him, smiling at him.  His eyes get large as he looks up at you, darting back and forth as he seems to think about your question.   “Um..anything you make will be good.” he shrugs, a cute little smile on his face as he stands up, unable to meet your eyes.  

“Oh..uh okay.  Well…if you come back later I’ll have them on the counter!” you say, and he nods, turning to go out the door.  “Bye!” you wave at the closing door, then deflate a bit, wondering if you’d once again been too pushy.  Sighing, you just go back inside, turning up the music to dance along to now that you were all alone.

A bit later, after getting side tracked from your baking by some phone calls and random chores, you finally make your way to finish your cookie preparation.  You frown as you realize you don’t have enough eggs and you sigh, looking at the clock.  It was after 9pm so you’d have to just run to the corner store to grab them.  Shrugging at your bad planning skills, you slip on some shoes and hope it’ll be a nice quick trip, and that not many people will be out.  You just had on some sweat shorts and a tee, hair a bit of a mess, but it’s not like you were trying to impress anyone.  

Opening the door, the bell chimes and you notice there aren’t many people, and a wave of relief washes over you.  You notice the bored cashier reading some kind of book and make your way to the cooler to see what they have.  Grabbing a few snacks, along with your eggs, you make your way to the register when a group of young men enter the store.  

You just keep your head down and thank the uninterested cashier as you make your purchase, then turn to head out the door.  “Hey there cutie…” you hear but ignore the voice, pushing open the door.  “Awww, where you goin?” you gasp as your arm is suddenly grabbed and you’re yanked inside.  Scared, your eyes dart to the cashier who is turning away and you curse your bad luck.  “Uhh, please let go.” you manage, looking at the three guys.  

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” another asks and you yank your arm away, clutching your bag to your chest as you eye them.  “None of your business, excuse me..” you say and push open the door to leave.  You almost let out a sigh of relief but then you hear the chime of the door as it opens again, and the laughter of the men.  

Starting to walk fast, you glance behind but then your foot catches on the curb and you land on your knees, scraping them.  “Shit…” you mumble, checking your bag to see if you broke anything.  “Aww honey, did you hurt yourself? Let me make it all better..” “Please leave me alone..” you tell them, looking up at the men hovering over you now.  “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Come on, I’ll kiss it better for you-” one says, grabbing for you, but then you hear shouting.  

“YAH! HEY!  Get away from her!” you hear a male voice from behind you, then a bag is flying over your head, hitting one of the guys in the face.  Then a figure is launching himself at the men, a bunch of shouting and commotion causing you to just stare in confusion.  Startled, you jerk away as a hand settles on your shoulder.  “Are you alright?” a voice asks and you look up into a familiar face.  “Hyunjin?” you whisper, remembering one of Jeongin’s friends.  

“Yeah, are you hurt?” he asks, then frowns as he looks over at the men fighting, another having joined the figure you’d seen flash by.  Before you know it, it quiets down and all you can hear is the heavy breathing of the two men who had chased away your harassers.  “Idiot, what are you trying to do?” you hear one berating the other before a figure runs over to you, kneeling in front of you.  

“Oh my god, what did they do to you? Are you alright? Where are you hurt?”  it takes you a moment to recognize Jeongin, his normally cheerful smile replaced with anger and concern.  Realizing that they’d come at just the right time, you sniffle a little, trying to hold back a sob. “Thank you, I … they were kinda scary…” you manage. Jeongin is frowning at your scraped knees, his hands shaking as he seems to want to help but doesn’t want to touch you.  

“Thank this moron, flying over people and screaming.  Holy hell, I’ve never seen him run so fast.”  You look over and notice Changbin standing to the side, glancing down at Jeongin as he worries over you.  “Hyunjin, let’s go make sure those dicks aren’t coming back.  Can you get her home ok?” he nudges Jeongin with his toe and he just nods, waving them away as he never takes his eyes off of you.  

“I’m ok, really.” you tell him, but when his eyes meet yours, you don’t push it.  They soften as he watches you wince a bit at his glare, holding his hand out as he stands up.  “Come on, let’s go home.” He says, and you take his hand, letting him pull you up.  “My eggs!” you say, then check them.  Luckily they weren’t broken and you breathe a sigh of relief.  “Here, let me…” he says, taking the bag.  “I’ll protect your eggs with my life, promise.” he says, giving you a reassuring smile.  

He holds his hand out to you and you blush shyly as you take it tentatively.  “Just to make sure you don’t trip, if it makes you uncomfort-” “No! I…thank you….I’m ok with it…” you manage and he nods, turning to watch the other two walk away.  You both start towards the apartment, the silence between you almost comfortable as he holds onto your hand, checking to make sure you’re walking alright every so often.  

“I’m sorry that those men were bothering you.” he says, and you glance up at him, the concern back in his dark eyes.  “I’m so grateful that you came along, really.  They were just being annoying, but it was a little scary.” The long pretty eyes that you loved to watch squint into a smile were now filled with anger, his mouth twisted into a grimace.  “I wish I’d hit them a few more times…” he growls out and you gasp, the realization that he’d been in a fight finally hitting you.  Your brain is a little slow, but now you look down at the hand holding yours and feel your heart hurt over his bloodied knuckles.

“Jeongin! Oh no!” you cry, stopping to look closer, pulling his other hand up.  “It’s fine, really I-” “It’s not fine! You were hurt because of me!” you exclaim, feeling your eyes fill with tears.  “Really…” “Inside, now!” you drag him along, despite his protests behind you.  Once inside, you frown at him, pointing to the couch as you set the bag down in the kitchen.  “Sit.  No! Don’t argue-just go sit. That’s an order!” you tell him, running off to get your first aid kit.  

“Wow…ok ok..” he mumbles, and you hear him going into the living room.  He’s perched on the couch, a little lopsided smile on his face as you sit beside him.  “Really, I’m alright.” he tells you as you pull out antiseptic spray and bandaids.  “Jeongin…” you sigh at him, putting on some ointment after you clean the injured knuckles on both of his hands.  “Why did you throw yourself at them like that? You could have been hurt even worse…” you swallow hard, thinking what might have happened if they had fought back or …

“It doesn’t matter, they were bothering you.” he simply states and you glance up at him as you put the bandaids on.  His eyes were soft and caring, causing your breath to stop.  The elongated silence as you watch him has your cheeks heating up, and you see the telltale sign of pink on his as well.  “You…you saved me….” you blink at him, realizing at that moment that you just might have it bad for this man.  

Before you can stop yourself, you cup his face in both hands and place a light kiss on his lips.  He stiffens, then a small whimper escapes him as you draw back, hand over your mouth.  “Oh..oh…Jeongin..I’m so sorry.  That was horribly rude of -” You’re abruptly cut off as he dips his head to recapture your lips, but this time it's less soft, more eager as he tilts his head to lean into you.  

Shocked but excited, you throw your arms around his neck and part your lips for him.  Gasping, his tongue tentatively searches for yours, deepening the kiss as they meet.  He slows, then pulls back for a moment, tipping his forehead against yours.  You search his eyes as he watches you, his gaze almost questioning.  “You’re hurt too..let me…” he says, but you shake your head, watching his lips, going to lean in again. 

As your lips press to his, he smiles and laughs a little, then pulls you back again.  “Hey..you yelled at me…let me at least clean your wounds before…” he blushes again, biting his lip and looking at your scraped knees.  “Before?” you ask breathily and he groans, immediately reaching for the antiseptic spray with shaking hands.  

“Jeongin…” you murmur as you watch him clean your wounds hurriedly.  “Mmm?” he continues to apply ointment and bandaids much like you did for him.  “I..I like you.” you finally get out, your cheeks burning even though moments ago he was kissing you back.  You still feel nervous, worried he might be just reacting to the adrenaline of the fight.  

At your words, he fumbles the box of bandaids and they fall, then he’s picking them up, not even looking at you.  “I just…sorry…that was probably-” “I like you too.” he says, finally turning to you as he places the box on the coffee table.  “I really like you…I just didn’t know if it was appropriate…” he manages, glancing around the apartment.  

“Because roommates?” you ask him and he nods at you as he takes a seat next to you once more.  You reach out and take his hand, feeling even more bashful.  “I..yeah it’s a little…well…” you stammer, but as you look back up at him, his eyes are filled with want as he watches you and you can’t stop yourself as you grab his shirt to pull him in for another kiss.  

He hums as your lips meet, his hand finding its way onto the nape of your neck, caressing the bare skin there.  A shiver runs through you as you melt into him, your arms around him, fingers delving into his silky hair.  Suddenly he’s lifting you into his lap and you press yourself against him, feeling bold as your hand slips down to unbutton his shirt.  

A small whine escapes him as your hand skims the bare skin of his chest where the shirt is parted, and you feel the telltale sign of his arousal growing where you’re seated on him.  “We-I-oh god-” he gasps as you rub a thumb over his nipple, turning to adjust on him, straddling his hips as you push him back on the couch.  “Too fast?” you ask him, but he’s shaking his head as he lifts your shirt over your head, his arms wrapping around you.  “Whatever you want…I only want what you want…” he professes as he looks up at you as you cup his face in your palms.  “I want you.” is all you say and he groans, then he’s lifting you, carrying you to his room as you wrap your legs around him.  You let out a little giggle as he makes cute noises trying to maneuver around things, finally falling with you onto the bed.  He props himself above you, taking in your bra clad torso.  

You bite your lip as you slip your hand behind your back and unhook it, drawing it off to throw to the side.  His eyes glaze over at the sight of your naked breasts, then he’s shedding his unbuttoned shirt as well.  “Jeongin-” “Oh…are you alright-?” “Pants, take them off…” you whisper and he stops in shock for a moment, then he’s stripping everything off as you giggle at his expression.  

Your laugh is cut off as he grabs your shorts and yanks them off along with your underwear, then he’s between your legs.  “I’ll stop anytime it’s too-” “Don’t you dare stop.” you demand, fingers back in his hair and leaning up to reclaim his mouth eagerly.  “Want to feel you-” you mumble against his lips, drawing out a long moan from him as your hips lift against him.  

You can feel the underside of his rigid length slide along your slickness as he rubs against you, the pressure against your clit has you already gasping in pleasure.  “Jeongin, please…I want you so much…” you whine, and he slips his hand between you to grip himself, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance.  “Please!” you cry as he hesitates once more, then he’s stretching you, hips thrusting forward to bury himself deep within you.  

The collective moans you both let out are the only sounds as he just pauses as you pulse around him, then he’s pulling back, thrusting back into you with a wet slap.  “Oh god, yes!” you cry out, your hands on his shoulders.  He lifts your leg a bit and slips a hand under your ass to tilt you up, letting him go a bit deeper.  His face is contorted in bliss, watching you as he slowly builds up the power behind his thrusts, speeding up gradually.  

“You feel amazing, oh-god-” he groans out, lowering himself a bit to kiss you, his hand gripping the sheets as he sets a steady pace, drawing out cries from you that mix with his own.  The sounds of your bodies coming together, and the soft cries and moans from him has your womb throbbing, tightness building inside of your abdomen and your body starts to shake as you realize you’re close.  “Jeongin…JEONGIN- I-”  His hips stutter as your walls clench around him and his breath hitches.  “Oh GOD-I CAN’T …FUCK- “ he groans, but you lift your hips, urging him on.  

“Cum, Jeongin, cum with me…please….” you cry, your orgasm finally stealing your breath as you scream, then his cries are blending with yours as he thrusts once more inside of you, emptying himself in a flood within you.  “Oh-GOD–GOD YES-” he chokes out, your legs around his waist as you hold him against you.  He shudders on top of you, gasping as he finally gets his breath back, and goes limp on you.  

Swallowing and catching your own breath, you just run your fingers through his hair and smile as you kiss his forehead.  “Mmmm” is all you manage and he echoes the noise back at you, then you’re both giggling.  He rolls you both to the side, pushing your hair back, both of you damp with sweat.  “I really like you.” you whisper and he smiles, his grin a little cheeky.  “I sure hope so…after that…”   You giggle as you slap him playfully, then his mouth is pressed against yours again.  “So, I’m your boyfriend AND roommate now?”  he asks, an eyebrow raised. “My roommate, my boyfriend.  My hero.”

𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Yang Jeongin x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: your sweet, loving friend is finally able to get his hands on you.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, friends to more

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: possessiveness, pervert dom Jeongin, pwp, fingering, mentions of masturbation and sexual fantasies, cum eating, slight corruption kink. that's it I think

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4K

I'm having a Jeongin brainrot and I don't know how to stop it. oh, whatever. omgggg its been so long since I last published something like this wAAAAAHー

"Innie..."

His name slipped graciously from your lips, along with some spit that was sliding down your chin, hands on soft blonde-bleached hair, your fingers twisting between them and tugging some strands as if to soothe the stinging sensation in your core. A low grunt reached your ears after the action, and his tongue from flat got pointy and hard against your nipple, circling and flicking it, to then switch on sucking, his teeth grazing the soft spot making you jolt.

You didn't know what was happening exacly, but if something was sure it would've been your need to slide back and forth on his lap, shyly, feeling the rough material of his jeans brushing against your barely covered sex.

It didn't help that Jeongin had his hands safely placed on your ass, kneading your flesh to his liking, parting your cheeks to let your lace panties slide between them and tug upwards, making them brush your folds as well, just to later slip his long slender fingers under the material to place it where it was before. He rolled his eyes every time he felt the elastic hem of the latter dig into your plush skin, making it slightly pop up, overflow the clothing.

He languidly backed up from your chest, a strand of his saliva still connecting him to your breast. You saw his lashes fluttering as he looked up at you; his back was hurting from how hunched down he was to have you in his mouth, but he knew he wouldn't regret the pain the morning after.

"Yeah, pretty? Tell me" an arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer and have your naked chest on his shirt, getting it stained at the contact due to the remaining wetness, stroking your side rather gently opposed to the dirty situation.

Jeongin dreamed about this for so long, only God knew how much he wanted to have you like this, saying his name under your shaky breath while he had his hands and mouth on your perfect, oh so perfect body. The exact moment he saw you he wanted to have you. He wanted to ruin you for others, wanted to take you so good you wouldn't even think about anyone else's cock beside his. So, with all the patience he could find within himself, Jeongin became your friend.

"Innie please!"

Your desperate voice was even better than anything he had ever imagined while he pumped himself dry everytime he came home after hanging out with you. He had a thing for those cute skirts and dresses you often wore around him, and he was grateful whenever the weather would bless him by swaying them up enaugh for him to steal a glance of your underwear. So grateful whenever you always accepted his offer to go up the stairs first: "Y'know, if you trip I'm here ready to save you". But even if you wore pants, dear lord, anyone could see him staring at the outline of your ass or if particularly tight, the one between your thighs. Jeongin smiled brightly whenever you rested your elbows on any surface, squishing your tits together so that dark line would appear between them under your lascivious neckline. Sometimes he was lucky enaugh to witness your bra slightly showing, or even more.

Jeongin didn't even feel guilty, looking at you so disrespectfully, because it was as if you were doing it on purpose, riling him up. You didn't even question his touch, always being a bit too much to be the one of a friend: stroking your thigh under the table, hurrying his hands on your shirt to "fix it" while casually groping you, tugging your hair whenever you had it tied up, and so on.

And it was so easy to become close to you. Such a sweet girl, all you needed was a bit of special attention, teeth-rotting compliments... and yeah, with time he also grew fond of you and didn't want you just to have a good fuck. Jeongin put too much energy and love into your relationship to just use you one time and throw you away. You had to be his, and his only.

His thoughts were interrupted by a harsh movement of your hips, taking him back to reality where it wasn't a dream anymore. After this, he surely didn't have to fake having a stomach ache to be alone in your bathroom anymore, and stuff your used clothes in his mouth while he humped one of your towels.

"Okay pretty, okay, shh" Jeongin returned his attention to you, his precious jewel, to properly lift your skirt in a swift motion and let the cold air assault you, shivers rising up your spine.

"Want me to touch you? Hmm?" voice low with a condescending tone, simple yet dirty words directed to you making your cheeks so hot you felt your entire face on fire. Your uncertain nod, almost as if you were afraid to let yourself be at his mercy, made him chuckle and throw his head back on the couch. His eyes closed as he started to roam his hands around your belly, fingers tracing confused lines on it; an electric feeling everytime he touched you, clenching around nothing. You saw him take a deep breath, then open his eyes again finding them intensely staring into yours, sly smirk plastered on his face.

"Pretty, you have to ask properly if you want something, right? I thought I was a better teacher..." fakely disappointed, he clicked his tongue: "you'll make Innie sad if you're not clear, yeah? I can't read your little mind! Now, be a good girl and try again for me"

All those pet names, the look he was reserving to you only, his hot breath fanning over your neck where he started to trace kisses and bites... you didn't even notice a hand starting to travel down.

"Please make me feel good Jeongin! Need you..." embarassment taking your lungs too, struggling to breathe. Jeongin's expression softened, slowly guiding you to kiss him by caressing your nape. He pulled your panties aside, index and middle fingers sliding bewteen your pussy lips, slipping so easily. Jeongin hissed.

"Is it for me pretty? Is this pussy all wet for me?"

But he didn't give you a chance to reply, his palm angled upwards so your bundle of nerves was taken care of, too. "Clit so puffy... want it in my mouth later, okay?"

He knew you couldn't reply, your mouth wide open and eyes shut too tightly, you surely weren't hearing a thing... but it was alright, he was talking to himself after all. Heartbeat hammering in your ears, and he didn't even enter you yet. And it was so wrong but so right, Jeongin was treating you like a princess, you believed so, and you loved every second of it, so much that you didn't even remember how you ended up like that.

He gathered some of your juices, quickly depriving you of his digits from your cunt to take them in his mouth, sighing from contentment, thinking that all the wait was worth the pain while he greedly sucked and savored the taste.

"I wanna make you feel good, don't worry, but you have to promise me something sweetheart..."

Hand toying again with your sensitive spot, the free one wiped over your teary eyes. Lifting your gaze you told him to go on with your head, istintively biting your lip.

"You have to be mine. My good girl," slowly, painfully slowly, you felt him going up, up, up, insides burning due to the stretch... "and let me be the only one who can pleasure you. Deal?"

Jeongin felt as if he was in Heaven already. He got all of his finger's lenght up your entrance with his cold silver rings adorning you, while the ones in his other hand were about to decorate your neck. Your essence was leaking on his wrist and he felt you gripping on his shirt, biting down on his shoulder. His cock was exploding in his pants but he kept repeating to himself in his mind to be a little more patient. That he would've been rewarded for resisting for so long, that if he fully convinced you he could have you whenever and wherever he wanted. Just a little bit more...

"Deal! Wanna be yours Innie please touch me more!"

Got you. Oh, he didn't need any more pleading. You surely were in for a long night.

nepo babies masterlist

rich! yang jeongin x rich! fem! reader . smau series . fluff , ‘enemies’ to lovers , (maybe) angst , mutual pining , slightly suggestive , fast paced(?) , fake dating

yang jeongin is a bad influence—words that fell from your parents lips, almost as a warning. yet despite jeongin's behaviour, the yang family was well respected, and your father would have been foolish to refuse a business partnership with the multi-millionaires. the collaboration led to you attending school with jeongin, who mindlessly trailed after you wearing his infamous smirk as he attempted to pick you apart. phrases meant to send you crying falling from his lips as he slunk an arm over your shoulders, nose grazing your cheek as he muttered every rude word that came to his mind. eventually you graduated, as did jeongin—surprisingly. and as your classmates went into the world, you hoped jeongin would do just the same. you planned on staying in seoul for awhile, having recently gotten a modelling contract with laila magazine. but unfortunately for you, yang jeongin had other plans, ones involving: a yacht, champagne, and a midnight swim.

status ongoing ! taglist open !

navigation | stray kids masterlist

profiles 1! | profiles 2! | privs

001. youre ill

002. you rat

↳ 002.5 my first sober kiss (w)

003. this is actually disgusting

004. say less

↳ 004.5 it’s not a fight without snacks

005. your big baby?

006. hyunjin is majestic

007. why is he in the bath?

↳ 007.5 that man is whipped

008. idk why he refuses to smile

↳ 008.5 did you leave the ac on? (w)

009. homeless french cats

010. what does lee know?

011. roaches take this?

↳ 011.5 is he crying?

012. baby girl are you dumb?

↳ 012.5 look at my lawyer dawg i’m going to jail

013. he is not lying

more to be added…

taglist @uraverageatiny @lolob @akanexw @violetvoo @rubberduckieyourtheone @haewonluvr @jungwonismybias @hello-2-u-from-me @marcillfll @somsungiex @icedtealeaf @hannahhbahng @jaeheekangslover @kokoiinuts @jeongins-wife @sleeplessmin @sserafimez @skz-streamer @abbiestearsricochet

© ilovehimyourhonour

Phases Masterlist

3/3 Main Completed, ?/? Minor Completed

LMH, HJS

Masterlist

Story Synopsis: Whoever said patience is a virtue have never met Jisung and Minho.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, poly!minsung x fem!reader, lots of kissing and groping lol, more specific warnings in individual chapters

Main:

Preview

Phase One: Emotion Sickness

Phase Two: Wildfire

Phase Three: When He Sees Me

Minor:

Phase Four: The Bigger Bed

Drabbles: one, two

-

Series tag list: @bookwyrm28 @ladylexis @blankdyean @sujurunaway @mal-lunar-28 @pussy-drunk @bangchxnnie @lyramundana @bumblebee-zone @bloopreads @propertyoftoru @ana-stasssiaaa @iheartjozzy @kurxxmi @i-dont-know-me-either @alice630 @jellylver @luvminmin @abcdefgiwsmcty @felixbrownies143 @sevngmin148 @myprwttyhan @ener-energy @3rachasninja @jisuperboard @got-it-from-my-daddy @prncsscrybby @sunnysorasworld @httpfairy @marked-unknown @renovachrono @slid3er @chanlovesme @whosanaanyway @adorepjw @peterparkoure @starquokka @daddysspecialdollyworld @drikenz @skyvastbunny @faerie-bees @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @jamlessstars @angeldhd (also included those who reblogged with interest!)

A/N: If you want to be tagged just for this series, please leave a comment on this page or on the preview post! Or for future updates on all my other works, join my tag list!