Uarmyhusband - You Are The Standard For Happiness ♡

.. CIRCUS WAS ALL THAT AND MORE!

Ok I know Stray Kids are good, there is a reason why they are my ults, but this release? The song? The music video? The choreo (as much as we see from the MV)? The OUTFITS? Ate and left no crumbs.

You think it's good and then it gets better and you're like "ok cool" and then IT GETS BETTER!

Hyunjin's vine aunt vibes he gave off with every line? Changbin in the checkered fit? Ring ring ring juggling we gon' burn this down? Jeongin's Harley hair???? His and Seungmin's vocals? HAN'S ENGLISH??? Chan somehow giving off dad vibes? THE SHINY THINGIES IN MINHOS HAIR PAIRED WITH THE JEAN FIT???? IT WAS ALL AMAZING!

Have I watched the music video at least like 7 times by now? Yes. Will I continue? Absolutely.

hypothetically (so no reblogging just to say i cant do that, play the game!), if you could only listen to ONE kpop song on repeat for a whole day, what would it be?

Two Little Horns | Masterlist |

Pairing: Minho x fem!reader Word Count: 9.3k Genre: Enemies to lovers, suggestive, college au Warnings: Heavily suggestive content, kinda intense makeout scene, use of she/her pronouns, profanity, bickering / arguing, slight physical violence (punching, shoving, etc), let me know if I missed anything

Summary: Minho never liked you, that was painfully obvious, but the feeling was mutual. You both had clawed your way to the top of the class at the dance academy and were in constant competition with each other, always at each other's throats about one thing or another. When one of your teachers has had enough of your bickering, he pairs you two together on a project that will impact your final grade. Minho's unpredictable and forward behavior only serves to irritate you, while your devilish and demanding attitude seems to only fuel his fire. Can you two sort your differences and create an entire routine together, or are you doomed to failure in the face of your discourse? What happens when feelings of disgust and hatred start to twist into forbidden pleasure? A/n: If you have time to read, you have time to reblog. I mean that in the nicest way possible, because likes do not count towards the algorithm. This has not been proofread, good luck y'all. Please send corrections to my ask box. ost: Horns - Bryce Fox

[she got horns like a devil, pointed at me] [and there's nowhere to run from the fire she breathes]

"No, no, she's doing it entirely wrong!" Minho exclaimed, standing up from his seat in front of the practice stage and pointing at you. "She's so bouncy, she's missing beats and-" "Minho." The teacher interrupted sternly, gesturing for him to sit back down. "Are you the teacher today? Should I just go home and let you take over?" The sarcasm in his voice was obvious, causing Minho to mumble a quick apology and return to his seat.

"At least I'm not as stiff as a robot." You spat from the stage, glaring at the boy that had been making your life miserable since you got here. You couldn't pinpoint exactly what had set him off, but a few people hinted to the fact that you scored higher than him on the placement test for this class. It was a feat no other student could seem to accomplish, out-ranking the ruthless top student. You were well on your way to dethroning him and he clearly wasn't happy about it.

"Both of you cut it out." The teacher corrected you as you gave a huff and Minho responded with a smirk. "Minho, why don't you come up here and join (your name). That way we can take a look at your individual styles and discuss the differences."

"I don't want to dance with them!" You both called out in unison, causing a few classmates to snicker at the pink hue floating onto both of your cheeks. Occasionally you both were on the same page and it was somewhat painful to think about how similar you could be.

"And you're not always going to like the person you end up being on a stage with, but you have to learn to get over it and be civil." The teacher had a point, but Minho was the kind of person that would make you quit a job and never look back. You'd never accept a contract if it meant having to deal with him, the constant nitpicking and sarcasm only fueling your anger.

Trudging his way onto the stage with you, you couldn't help but notice how well put together Minho looked at all times. Sure, you hated him, but you also knew how ridiculously attractive he was despite his rotten attitude. Every feature of his face perfectly placed and proportioned, his hair falling in a frame just above his eyes that were locked on you. You both stood in complete silence, staring each other down like two predators competing for the only prey in sight.

"What are you staring at?" He snapped, lowering his head slightly to adjust the angle of his gaze in an attempt to intimidate you. You knew this trick all too well, you weren't going to fall for it. There was nothing intimidating about a spoiled brat.

"You'd be hot if you weren't such a whiny bitch about everything." You responded under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough to not alert the teacher. If nothing else, you were brutally honest.

"Oh, is that so?" His voice was quiet and suddenly smooth, his eyebrow raised in both curiosity and suspicion as he ran his tongue along his bottom lip. Before he got a chance to take advantage of the moment, the teacher was already counting you off and you both nearly missed the beat.

"Notice how Minho is perfectly on beat? Each move beginning and ending exactly in tune with the counts. That's the kind of precision you all should strive to have." The teacher explained as the class watched him for a moment. You could feel Minho's ego getting bigger by the second, though it was entirely undeserved. "On the other hand you have (your name), who sometimes will hold a beat just a moment over the count. Now, normally this would become an issue. But if you listen closely to the music behind it, you can see that it fits perfectly to the emotions being expressed. Her body flows with the feeling of the song, which gives a lot of stage presence to something that would normally feel scripted." The class nodded, now watching you for a moment before turning to the teacher as you finished the choreography. "You should aim to be the best of both of them. Precise and passionate."

"Are we done up here?" You asked, rolling your eyes and giving Minho a shove to create space between the two of you. Just because you had ended the choreography so close to each other didn't mean he had to stay there. Stumbling slightly, he shot you a glare and moved to shove you back, though you leaned out of the way to ensure he would just bump into you instead. "Excuse me? Stay the fuck away from me." You hissed, giving him a smug smirk.

"Minho-" The teacher started, but was quickly interrupted.

"She shoved me first, did you not see that?" He raised his voice, pointing at you as your smug expression melted into a pout of pure innocence.

"I don't care who started it, you're not children. Act like the young adults you are and behave. I shouldn't have to say this to someone your age." You turned to walk off the stage, winking back at Minho as you ran your fingers through your hair. Getting him in trouble was oddly satisfying, as was irritating him right back. Two could play this ridiculous game.

"But she-"

"You know what? Why don't we make the next project a partner project? You two can work together to get over your differences." Stopping in your tracks at the instructions, you whipped your head around to look at the teacher in disbelief. As you opened your mouth to speak, he held up a hand to stop you. "You'll be getting an email with the instructions and each other's contact information. I fully expect to not see either of you in class until the due date. I've had enough of your bickering."

"But sir I-" You started.

"I suggest you figure out your issues and promptly get over them, as this will be part of your final grade. You both are far too advanced to need any more of this class until finals week. I'm sure you'll do fine."

"This is your fault!" You both shouted at each other, pointing fingers with eyes wide and panicked. More snickering from your classmates had you frustrated enough to just give up the fight, it wasn't worth getting any further punishments.

"Fuck you!" You called, stomping out of the door and slamming it behind you.

"I know you want to!" Minho called after you, following your path out the door but finding that you had already run off. He'd catch you again eventually... you did have to work with him, after all.

-----

"He's punishing both of us." Minho's voice over the phone was clearly irritated as you both read over the email together. "Give an emotionally provoking performance, but points will be docked for every move that doesn't fit perfectly within the counts." He sighed.

"That's not difficult, if you'd just have some feelings for five minutes." You scoffed in response.

"You say that like you can stay within the counts. You'll have us failing in the first minute." His attitude was obvious and you were definitely not looking forward to this project in the slightest. "And the song he chose for us? Icing on the fucking cake. It sounds like a stripper's song... the beats are so slowed and heavy. Every count is loud and obvious."

"Good thing I used to be one." Your response was instant, not skipping a beat. Sometimes you surprised yourself with your own wittiness. The extended silence followed by a concerning monotone made you giggle, though you covered your mouth to muffle it.

"Are you serious?" Though you couldn't see it, you were sure his eyes were a bit wide and he had a slightly raised eyebrow. Surely the comment would pique his interest a bit.

"Wouldn't you love to know." There was a low hum in response and you could feel your face begin to heat up a bit. "Just... meet me in the courtyard in like, an hour? We need to start putting this together."

"Yes ma'am. Should I bring your coffee too, since you wanna talk to me like I'm your servant?" The sarcasm was thick but you were ready to throw it right back at him.

"Oh, good idea. Iced latte with whole milk and three sugars, thanks." You quickly hung up before he could come up with a response.

When you arrived at the courtyard in front of the main building, you weren't surprised to find Minho already sitting on a bench waiting for you. If you were on time, he was early. Anything to show you up.

"I see you didn't bring my coffee." You smirked, shrugging your bag off your shoulder and onto the ground in front of him.

"You're an insufferable devil woman." Minho scoffed in response before reaching behind his own bag to hand you the exact coffee you had requested. "But I always keep my word." Though surprised, you gently took the cup from his hands with a mumbled 'thanks'. It was strange to see his name scribbled on the cup, even stranger that he had taken the time to stop and buy it for you. He didn't have a coffee of his own, meaning he had gone out of his way for you. This had to be a trap somehow.

"I strive to be. Glad it's working." Your flat tone seemed to irritate him a bit, his eyes narrowing in your direction as you continued to speak. "So I was thinking of some choreo on the way here-"

"There's no need for your input, I can put an entire routine together myself. I just have to figure out a way to teach it to you." He rose to his feet, taking a step closer to you.

"It's my project too, you arrogant fuck. You're going to take my input and you're going to fucking like it." You took a heavy step towards him this time, your body language shifting as your fuse was already beginning to burn. Something about your tone made Minho's blood begin to boil in an unexpected way. In any other situation, he would make a sarcastic comment and simply walk away. He had no time for such immature banter... except when it came to you. You could keep him backed into a corner all day and he'd continue to fight you, constantly searching for a moment of weakness to strike back. Something about you kept him coming back.

"My arrogance is earned. Can you say the same?" He stepped closer still, a smug smirk plastered across his face as your anger was building. He knew what buttons he was pressing and he intended to keep pressing them until you began to combust.

"If you think I'm arrogant-" You were cut off as you stepped forward, feeling his breath for only a brief moment before his hands gave a hard shove to your chest. Stumbling back in surprise, you gritted your teeth and allowed your vision to go red. A short fuse was certainly an understatement when it came to your tolerance of Minho. With a swift lunge, you placed a punch square into his chest, causing a gasp to escape him as you partially knocked the air out of his lungs. In some sick way, it looked like he had enjoyed it, a smile playing across his lips as he chuckled.

"You're a fool, you know that?" He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to lose your composure, he wanted you to touch him in any way he could get you to. In a twisted way he enjoyed it, though he couldn't quite put a finger on the reason. Something about your attitude and devilish nature just got him in some way, but admitting that would be admitting weakness. Instead, he'd continue to toy with you. "C'mon, keep fighting. I'm recording all of it so I can create the choreography from it."

For someone as irritating and condescending as he was, Minho certainly was brilliant. What a better way to bring passion and emotion into the routine than to literally be fighting each other like you did on a daily basis. With a huff, you lunged at him again, this time his hand catching your wrist before you could land another blow. In response, he twisted your arm around to the side, pulling you around to face away from him before jabbing an elbow into the crook of your neck. You let out a whine that had a hint of pleasure laced into it. This was certainly a strange feeling, considering how angry you had been just a moment ago. But this was just as much a dance as it was a fight, and you knew how to flow with someone like him.

He went to reach for you as you leaned to the side, avoiding his grip as you pulled your phone out and hastily started the music. You both gave a silent, understanding look as you placed the device on the ground and turned the volume up. Once more you approached each other, steps matching the beat of the song. You reached for his shirt, pulling him close before pushing him back, perfectly in time with the count. He snaked behind you, wrapping his arm around your chest and bending you back, allowing you to fall into his grip before boosting you back up to your feet.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught his fist coming towards your arm. Surprising even yourself, you put your hand up just in time to catch him before the impact. A group had gathered around now, both confused and fascinated by the sight. At first glance it appeared to be a childish sparring match, but the crowd was beginning to watch the routine unfolding before them. As much as it disgusted you to think about, you both were so in sync with each other that the choreography would be a breeze to work out.

"Is that all you've got?" His voice was condescending, fingers dancing up your chest and around your neck. Freezing in place, you allowed him to wrap his thumb and finger just under your chin, pressing on the well known 'safe spots' to give the feeling of a lack of air without the danger. His head cocked to the side, an almost lustful expression painted on his face as he seemed to stare straight into your soul. If anyone was the devil, it certainly had to be him.

Feeling yourself becoming lightheaded, you suddenly realized he was actually doing this... in front of everyone! He was actually giving you the feeling of being choked out and you were too busy enjoying it to stop him. Giving a quick double tap on his wrist, he let go immediately and placed a hand on your back to stabilize you as you stumbled. You wanted to say something about it, but you knew he'd simply brush it off and make you look like the fool. Instead, you wanted to get a reaction out of him that would hopefully be as dumbfounded as yours was. After a moment of skillfully moving around each other, you reached your own hand up to his neck. As you went to squeeze, a muffled chuckle came from him as he ran his fingers roughly into your hair, pulling your head back and to the side. On cue, you moved with him to avoid more pain, making it appear that this was all part of the routine and he hadn't just caught you completely off guard. As your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, you knew he was winning. His goal was to break you and you were starting to crack already.

His grip loosened and you slipped away, slightly out of beat this time but you were beginning to panic. You had to get back at him in some way, but the song was almost over. There was a lull in movement as you both contemplated your next steps, a normal part of creating a new routine from scratch. You both gravitated towards each other once more, this time with a series of hand and arm movement isolations that mirrored each other. On the last beat of the song, you brought your lips to his ear, giving a small sigh that caused him to grab your arm and let out a stifled groan. His grip dug into your skin as he tried to compose himself, both of you frozen in this compromising position for what seemed like an eternity. The sweet taste of an unlikely victory sat well on your tongue as you caught sight of the flustered look on his face. Cheeks red, eyes darting around, and breathing a bit more labored than you'd expect from someone with his amount of stamina. As you tried to pull away, his grip tightened and held you in place for a moment, presumably to give him enough cover to pull himself together. His glare returned once more as you were freed from his hold.

"I'll look at the video when I get back to the dorm and start creating a routine from there." His tone was rushed as he gathered up his phone and handed yours back to you as well. Throwing his belongings back into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he turned to walk away without another word.

"So that's it? You put me through all of that and I don't even get to be part of the process?" You called after him, your brain still trying to figure out exactly what had just happened between you two.

"Call me when you wake up tomorrow. We'll have a long day ahead of us." Of course he would ignore your comment, when did he ever care what you had to say? He was going to make this project entirely about him and you were going to have to force your way into it. It was going to be a long day indeed.

-----

5am sharp, you made it a point to be up as ridiculously early as possible. Anything you could do to annoy the absolute life out of Minho throughout this entire process was worth waking up at this ungodly hour. As you listened to the phone ring, you were surprised to hear him pick up after only a few seconds.

"Finally, you're awake." His voice was stern, acting as though he had been awake and ready before you called. There was no way.

"Don't act like you've been up all morning. It's 5am, get off your high horse." You rolled your eyes, knowing he couldn't see but he could certainly hear it in your voice.

"I've been up since 4, but who's keeping track, really? Meet me at the practice studio, and bring food. We'll be here all day. I assume you have nothing better to do." The scoff at the end of his remark made you want to hang up, block his number, and fail your final just so you didn't have to work with him anymore. But of course the competitiveness in you wouldn't let you, you wanted to prove to him that you could handle anything he threw at you with grace. Time to put your horns on, little devil, you've got a long day ahead of you.

Stumbling into the practice room after finishing the last bite of your bland sandwich from the student cafe, you suddenly realized what you had forgotten - your coffee. All you had was water. How were you going to put up with Minho's bullshit without some-

"Iced latte with whole milk and three sugars, right?" A smug smirk playing across his face, there was Minho with your coffee in hand. "I figured you'd be in too much of a hurry to remember." Once again you timidly took the cup, a word of gratitude uttered under your breath as you sat your bag down.

"So I'm assuming today I'm learning the choreography, then I can practice on my own? You know, limiting our contact so we don't drive each other insane?" You questioned as you sipped your coffee and began your usual set of stretches.

"You think you can learn a whole routine in one day?" Minho laughed, shaking his head in disbelief of your optimism. "I think it'll take me a week just to teach you half of it." He continued, breath hitching for a moment as you casually bent yourself backwards, back arched perfectly, just to see if you were still able to. It had been a while since you had tried to use your devilish charm to throw someone off, perhaps you should dust off your skills.

"I'll have it memorized by the end of today." You insisted, hands on your hips as you stared him down. He appeared to be slightly flustered, though it was a fleeting expression that quickly returned to that of borderline disgust at your words.

"Whatever you say, princess." There was venom in his words, but you were far too tired to care right now. His attempt to rile you up would have to wait until the adrenaline kicked in.

"It's too early to be contemplating murder, but try me again in a few hours." You retorted with a wink that shot electricity down Minho's spine. Though he would never admit it, going so far as to beat the pulp out of anyone that suggested it, your little devil horns always seemed to get the best of him. He had never met anyone that was at his level of skill and wit until he laid eyes on you. He was determined to pick and prod at you until he broke you down, much like a schoolboy teasing the cute girl on the playground until she cries. Emotions just... weren't his thing.

Hours seemed to fly by as you impressed him with your ability to learn the choreography. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good at putting together a routine that was as visually pleasing as it was challenging. He was certainly going to give you a run for your money, but that was his plan all along. If you were truly up to his level of skill, you'd pull the dance off with ease and earn him an easy A. It was a win-win situation for both of you.

"You're off count. When I pull back, you're supposed to come with me, but you're putting your foot forward on the wrong beat." Minho sneered, pointing down at your feet that were supposedly out of position. You had counted it in your head, not to mention the hours you spent listening to the song on repeat to memorize the counts. You were not wrong, not in the least bit. "Run it again."

"You're off count!" You shouted, watching him pull back an entire two counts early. Was he really going to try to blame this on you?

"I'm never off count." He scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Do it yourself, then. Prove me wrong." You braced your fist against the wall, ready to beat it on the paneling to make the counts louder in his ear. With another scoff he agreed, signaling for you to count him off. As he began the part you were debating with him, you began to bang your fist to the counts, calling them out as loudly as you could. You could see the disgust on his face, but it only fueled you more. "Three! Four! You're! Off! Count!"

"Well if you weren't making so much noise." He spat, approaching you with every intent to rile you up again. It wasn't going to work this time though, you knew you were right and so did he. Meeting his gaze and holding it hostage until he spoke again, you knew you were about to win this battle. Quite a few minutes of silence followed, both at a stalemate to see who would crack first. With a huff, Minho turned away from you. "I think we should take a break. Meet me back here in an hour." With that, he grabbed his own bag and slammed the door behind him. What a pretentious prick he was, not as perfect as he'd like to think, but too proud to admit it.

Your dorm was too far to walk back, it would take at least 20 minutes to get there, not to mention the temptation to go back to bed would be overwhelming for you. With no real friends on campus yet and nowhere familiar to go, you plopped down on the floor with your lunch and stared at yourself in the mirror. Minho was so arrogant, insufferable, and a downright headache for you. But when he was standing there, breath falling on your face as he didn't dare break eye contact, you wanted to put your hands on him. Not necessarily in a violent manner, but you weren't sure what intentions you would have. Something about him was magnetizing and you absolutely despised it.

-----

"Once more, without me this time." Minho commanded, restarting the song as you stared at him through the mirror.

"Oh, you think I'm watching you for hints?" Raising an eyebrow, you challenged his words. He certainly didn't think highly of you, did he?

"Absolutely. Nobody learns my routines in just a day." But as you danced, you were beginning to prove him wrong. Every count he mouthed was perfectly synced to your movements. You could see him watching your reflection in the mirror, his stoic figure behind you almost made you nervous. You never did like it when people stood behind you, especially people that have proven multiple times that they despise you.

"Are you willing to take any of my input yet?" You asked with an eyeroll, grabbing a towel out of your bag to dab the sweat off your face. The practice studio was always way too hot but the air conditioning was perpetually broken, go figure. Minho's head tilted slightly to the side, admiring your bravery but also curious as to what you could possibly come up with.

"I'll humor it." Giving a nod, he gestured for you to show him what you had come up with. Surprised by his willingness to hear you out, you had almost entirely forgotten what you were going to suggest.

"Ah, so... this part." You stuttered a bit, unsure of how to approach him with a suggestion as you moved your body into the pose. Some people took offense to changes in their choreography and you didn't know how he was going to react. Though you could deal with just about any reaction he gave, you were exhausted and didn't feel like having another round of yelling. "You know how it has the piano melody? If we both kinda circled each other to those down beats, we could start to lean into each other." You motioned for him to come closer to you, watching his expression carefully. His smirk was a bit different this time, though you couldn't place the emotion behind it. Just as you suggested, he leaned into you to mirror your pose. "Right, and when the music pauses, put your hand on my neck and then come back up when the instrumental comes back in."

"I see. You know the teacher gets uncomfortable when dances get a bit too... sensual. I like the way you think." Pride, the smirk was pride. He was... proud? Of your modification? He gave an airy laugh at your slightly stunned expression, his fingers dancing their way up your neck and resting on the same two spots as before.

"He wanted to make us uncomfortable working together, we'll make him squirm." Just as quickly as his hand had pressed onto your skin, he took it away and stepped back.

"Shall we try it with the music?" You nodded in response as he queued up the song, skipping through to the part in question. As you waited for the correct count, you could see the gears turning in his head. He was going to add something, change something, try to throw you off in some way. This was a game to him.

Just as you instructed, he followed your lead when you began to circle around, both of you leaning into each other and becoming dangerously close. Breath mixing in the air before you, you could still smell the hint of cologne beneath the sweat and you had to wonder what kind of person would put cologne on before a day of dancing.

"Follow me this time." He whispered as his fingers crept up to the sweet spots on your neck, giving it a light press that caused your eyes to flutter slightly. Before the pause between this pose and the instrumental kicking back in, he tugged down on you with his free hand. You dropped to your knees at the same time as him, your throat still clutched between his fingers. As soon as the correct beat hit, you used your arm to smack his away. "Very clever, I like it." His voice was sincere for once as he made his way over to his phone to pause the music. "I'll figure out a good way for us to get off the floor after that part but you did exactly what I was hoping you would do." He raised and eyebrow at you as he continued. "Keep making changes like that, perhaps you're not as useless as I thought you were." Of course every compliment had to come with a backhanded comment, were you really surprised? It seemed impossible for Minho to just say something positive and leave it at that.

"Could you possibly say something nice without ruining it? Just once?" You snapped, your glare locking with his.

"Perhaps." Grabbing a water bottle from his bag and snapping the cap open, he seemed to think on his words for a moment before taking a drink. "I don't think you've earned it yet, though."

"Earned it?" Your voice was filled with disgust, finally breaking your gaze to hastily pack your belongings into your bag. "You're so-"

"Insufferable? So I've been told." His smug tone and expression made you want to lash out but you were simply too tired. You both had been in this practice studio for almost 12 hours now, all you wanted to do was go back to your dorm and get into bed. But as you made your way out the door and down the hallway connecting the building to the outside, you began to hear rain. Peering out the window of the hallway, you could see it was absolutely pouring down rain outside.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You groaned, realizing that you didn't even have a jacket to keep you warm and your dorm was way too long of a walk. You'd be soaked to your bones before you even got halfway there. Tired, starving, and frustrated, you could've cried if you weren't so focused on keeping up your image. Suddenly there was a jacket being wrapped around your shoulders and you nearly jumped at the sensation. Pulling the fabric close, the familiar scent of cologne surrounded you and you spun around to see Minho.

"How far do you have to walk?" His tone was soft this time, a look of genuine concern on his face as he briefly looked out the window and back to you.

"Twenty minutes, all the way to the other side of campus and then some." You sighed.

"My dorm is in the next building, why don't you come with me?" Cocking your head to the side, you wondered what exactly he was planning. He didn't like you, why would he be willing to help you? This had to be a trap, he had to be up to something. Recognizing the concern on your face, he quickly continued. "Just until the rain lets up. If you get sick and miss the final, I fail. I'd rather you be a minor inconvenience than have my grade tarnished by someone else." Looking at the rainstorm once more, you realized that you didn't have much of a choice. He was right, you'd probably end up sick if you walked home in this and that was the last thing you needed to deal with. If this was a trick, you'd just have to be the fool for once.

-----

"They usually hide from anyone that isn't me." Minho was surprised to see all three of his furry companions crawling out from under various furniture in the dorm, all vocalizing their disapproval of him being gone all day.

"You snuck cats into the dorms? I could get you expelled."

"And you snuck into an all boys dorm. You'd be expelled as well." He seemed entirely unbothered by your threat, though he knew as well as you did that it was an empty one. If he was rich enough to have his own personal dorm on the top floor, he was certainly rich enough to pay off any faculty to keep his name in good standing.

Carefully placing your bag on the floor and removing your wet shoes and jacket, you plopped down onto his bed without a second thought. You held out your hand and made a clicking noise with your tongue, an attempt to entice one of the cats to come to you. Lucky you, two of the three quickly made their way to your hand, bumping their heads against it and rubbing against your legs. A small smile tugged at your lips as one of the cats hopped into your lap, purring and rubbing their head against your chin.

"What are their names?" You asked as the furry friend made itself comfortable on your lap, enjoying the attention and gentle head scratches.

"That one is Soonie, and you've got Dori by your feet." Reaching down to pick up the third feline, he began to grin at their meowing. "And Doongie right here is very upset that I've been gone all day." You wanted to laugh at the childish voice he used with the cat, perhaps even use it as blackmail, but it was adorable and you hated to admit it. As soon as you got him alone and away from prying eyes, Minho actually seemed like a decent person. Perhaps he was just keeping up an image, much like you.

"They're probably hungry." You suggested, hand resting on the purring cat in your lap as you looked up. He reached into a drawer, grabbing a small plastic tube and handing it to you.

"Just open it and squeeze it a little, they'll lick it right out of the tube. It's their favorite treat." As instructed, you tore the plastic and gave it a gentle squeeze. Doongie leaped out of Minho's arms to join you on the bed, nearly jumping on Soonie's head. Dori was soon climbing up your legs, and before you knew it you had all the cats in your lap happily enjoying their treat. You started to giggle as they shoved each other out of the way and took turns eating. "Cats are funny little things. They'd never really admit they like someone, but look at them. They can't get enough of you right now."

"It's because I have food. Anyone can be easily persuaded with food." You joked, squeezing more of the treat out of the tube for the cats.

"Is that so? You wouldn't happen to be hungry, would you?" You snorted at his comment before realizing he was serious. Wait, was he trying to make conversation or was he actually hitting on you? Talk about emotional whiplash.

"Are you hitting on me?" You hadn't meant to ask so bluntly, but the words just slipped out in the moment. He studied your face for a moment before responding with a scoff.

"Why would I do that? We hate each other." He raised an eyebrow and gave a very knowing smirk. You were onto him, but he wouldn't come clean that easily. No, he'd make the devil work for her confession... if he would give one at all.

"But you-"

"I was simply trying to be polite, nothing more." He insisted as he got out three small bowls and filled them with cat food. As quickly as the cats had flocked to you, they were on the other side of the room meowing and pacing. As soon as the bowls touched the floor, they all began to quiet down and eat peacefully next to each other. "Fickle little things. One moment they love you, the next they couldn't care less."

Making his way towards the bed, Minho sat down in the small space between you and the headboard. As you turned to watch the cats, you felt fingers through your hair, tugging at the knots that had formed in the soaked strands. Angling your head back every time his fingers snagged, you wanted to ask him why in the hell he was touching you in the first place. You hadn't given him permission, he hadn't asked, and yet every time you opened your mouth to snap at him, the words hitched in your throat. Another snag, a bit harder this time, caused you to force air from your throat that barely produced a sound but caused your face to turn a few shades of pink.

"Oh?" His voice had a devious tone to it, quiet but clear as day. You didn't dare meet his gaze as he continued to rake through your damp hair, until he stopped on a particular knot that didn't want to come out easily. You could feel him wrap the strand of hair around his fingers before twisting his hand around and giving a good tug. Your head snapped back, spine arched, and a choked moan escaped your lips before you could stop it. This wasn't happening, right? This was a dream, a nightmare even, but surely not reality.

Suddenly his arm snaked its way around your body, grabbing at the small of your waist and forcing you around to face him. Releasing your hair from his grip and letting it fall against the side of your face, he admired the bright red hue of your cheeks and your wide, stunned eyes. Exactly as he wanted you, just as flustered as you had made him yesterday in front of all those people.

"What? A little tug on your hair and suddenly those horns disappear?" Low and smooth, his words were like rich caramel on your tongue as you found yourself pressing your lips to his. You weren't entirely sure what you were doing, your body acting of its own accord as you allowed his tongue to dance with yours and his hands to secure themselves on the edges of your hip bones. You despised him. His arrogance, his attitude, and the way he had you melting into him as he eased himself onto his back and pulled you atop him. You couldn't stop kissing him if you wanted to, you were trapped in whatever spell he had you under. A part of you didn't want to though, as you pushed your body against his embrace.

Finally he let you up for air, and you gave an inaudible gasp as you sat up straight. His hands were still gripping your hips that were now straddled onto either side of him, your aching knees holding up all of your weight. You tried to avert your gaze, there had to be something else in your line of sight that wasn't him. Failing to find a distraction, your eyes fell back onto him. You expected a smug smile, but instead were met with admiration for a few brief moments. Minho couldn't hold that kind of look for very long though, the smugness that you were anticipating was making its way across his face once more.

His hold on your hips tightened, pushing your weight down onto him and dragging you across his lap. The small amount of friction was enough to make your head spin but you needed a way out. This was your rival, your sworn enemy... what were you doing on top of him in his bed?

"It stopped raining." Your voice was a stunned squeak, eyes wide as you dropped your gaze from the window and back to him. Letting go of your hips and sitting up, his face was dangerously close to yours as he spoke.

"So you'll be going home, I assume?" His tone was nonchalant, as if you both weren't in the most compromising position that enemies could be in. You gave a nod as you quickly climbed off the bed and slipped your shoes back on. "Wear my jacket, otherwise security might spot you on your way out."

Slipping the jacket on without a word, you made your way to the door as he followed. You gave a quick pat on the head to each of the three cats and before you knew it, you were stepping out of the elevator. The walk home was a blur, but somehow you managed to pick up food on your way there and eat at least half of it before you could even get into your dorm. Collapsing onto your bed, you didn't even bother to take off your sweaty clothes or his oversized jacket. Right now you wanted nothing more than sleep, you could wash his scent off of you in the morning.

-----

Was he seriously going to act like nothing happened?

A week of practicing together, constantly drilling the same moves over and over until you were sick of seeing each other, and not one single word about what happened? How do you just... make out with your worst enemy and not even try to hold it against them?

Every day like clockwork, he'd show up at the practice studio before you with your favorite coffee in hand. You'd thank him under your breath, snarl at whatever snide remark he made, and begin your respective stretches on opposite sides of the room. But once the music started, the atmosphere completely changed. You were two very different people as soon as you began to work together, as soon as you could put hands on each other in a way that didn't compromise the images you both kept up. Ever since the rumors had started when someone caught you wearing his trademark jacket, you both had doubled down on the public displays of hatred, going so far as to schedule arguments in the courtyard just to prove a point.

But scheduling a public argument sounded like something that two people heavily in denial would do.

"You're distracted." Minho's tone was stern, staccato, and absolutely sick of you. "Don't get soft on me now, little devil. The final is in a couple days." The words threatened to suffocate you as they sat in the air, your mind racing with thoughts and not a single one of them was a witty comeback. He stared at you in the mirror, noticing the blank look on your face and began to grow concerned. "At least tell me you hate me or something, you're starting to scare me."

"That's the thing..." You started, mouth moving before your brain could catch up to it as you nearly said something you might regret. Biting the inside of your cheek, it took all your self control to not just spill your feelings out onto the floor. What was it about being alone with him that changed you? Your hatred for him was so strong that it seemed to have burned itself out.

"Don't say it. Not yet." His fingers curled around your shoulder as his voice was barely above a whisper in your ear, his breath warm on your skin. "You're far too stubborn to give up the fight now."

Your stunned expression was obvious as his lips curled into a smirk before he retreated to the other side of the room. He was casually rummaging in his bag while you were still trying to process what he had just said, the gears finally turning at just the right speed to realize that this, too, was a game. Everything was a game to him, including this absolutely forbidden passion that lived just below the surface of your mutual hatred. But in a way, he was right. Your stubbornness is what had you biting your cheek to keep a confession from rolling off your tongue, you weren't willing to crack just yet. No, you wanted to tease and taunt him right back, break him before he could break you.

"We hate each other until the final." You concluded, examining what looked like a silk ribbon in his hands. "After that, all bets are off."

"Then I fully expect you to put all of your emotions into our performance, no matter what they may be. Make me feel what you feel, and I will do the same for you." The way his eyes seemed to burn into your soul left you breathless for a moment, knowing exactly what he was asking of you. Keep a level head until the final performance, then put everything on the table once you're together on the stage. Neither of you wanted to waste the raw emotion threatening to break the surface and bubble over, you had already made the mistake of letting the feelings seep out once.

Letting the ribbon in his hands unravel, you watched with curiosity as Minho handed you the other end and began backing up until you were quite a few feet away from each other. You looked down at the silk, unsure of what new idea he was adding just a couple days before the performance. Whatever it was, you were sure you'd have it mastered in record time.

"In the last fight sequence, instead of me putting my arms around you, I thought I could catch you in the ribbon. We separate, you take one end with you, and for the rest of the routine we start to slowly drag each other in." He suggested, demonstrating how he wrapped the ribbon around his hand to shorten the length. "If you fold it on the down beats, and I fold it on the up beats, we should end up..." He paused, walking towards you until there was less than an inch between the two of you. "Exactly like this, tied together."

You couldn't help yourself as you gave an additional tug on the ribbon, bringing him that much closer to you. His composure was cracking, you could see it as his eyes fell to your lips and quickly darted back up. But you were going to play with him just a bit longer, you knew you could get him to buckle first if you played your cards right.

"With the music?" You suggested, letting go of the ribbon as soon as he began to lean in. Clearly a bit flustered at his own actions, he frantically rolled the ribbon up and tucked it under his wristband as he fumbled for his phone to start the music. Quickly skipping to the correct part, he sat the phone on the floor and joined you as you counted off.

Skilled as he was, you hadn't noticed him pulling the ribbon out of the wristband, convinced that he had forgotten about it already. Wrapping you up in the smooth silk, you quickly came up with an easier way to slip out of his grip. When it was just his arms, he made sure to keep them loose enough that you could shove them away to turn and face him, but the ribbon didn't allow you such leeway. Instead you pressed your back against his body, grabbing the ribbon as you slipped down and out of his grip, your figure sliding against his in a way that sent electricity through you. This, of course, changed the tone of the choreography. Instead of you fighting to get away, you were simply teasing the control back into your hands, a very fitting scenario at this point.

You would've been in an odd position, now crouched on the floor with the ribbon in hand when you should've been standing. But if you thought you were quick to the draw, he was even quicker, backing up with a tight grip on the ribbon that appeared to be pulling you to your feet. He was further enforcing the change in attitude, now enticing you to follow him in a game of cat and mouse. Who was going to win control by the end of the song?

When you both came together at the end of the song, breathing heavy as your eyes threatened to burn into each other, there was a moment where you realized something. You had never been able to work with someone as easily as you did with Minho. Your skills were so evenly matched and your ability to improvise was rivaled only by his ability to respond to it, unwilling to let you win any encounter you had with him. The experience had been both irritating and exhilarating, two top students fighting to outdo each other in their own project only to realize they're one in the same. As your next words left you, there was no longer any regret behind them, just a subtle hint of desperation in the moment.

"You can hate me again in five minutes." Before you could take a breath, he had you pinned against the mirror, roughly crashing his lips against yours as he gave a low sigh. The sound caused you to grab the front of his shirt in your fist, pulling him as close as you possibly could while his tongue invited itself between your parted lips. But this was the last time until the performance, you swore it to yourself. In five minutes you would hate each other again and that was that.

-----

Minho looked stunning, though admittedly he always did. You would've never told him to his face but he always looked so perfectly put together, even more-so in a flashy performance outfit. But right now you hated him, and you were about to give the entire audience a story about how that exact feeling was no longer genuine. Your dislike of him was simply an act at this point, a necessary performance until this grade was in the system and you could relax.

His arrogance was practically dripping off of him, the way he stepped so confidently towards you, his finger lightly brushing under your chin with a wink. He knew what he could do to you, but he also knew you'd be able to dish it all back to him and he loved every second of it. Your attitude was a perfect compliment to him, you were the outspoken spitfire he had always longed to have by his side and you were only a few minutes away from finally being his. As much as you wanted to act like you were unsure of how you'd handle your feelings, you knew you couldn't say no to him.

The silence before the music started was almost deafening, though you were prepared to tune out everything except the music and Minho. There was no teacher, no student audience, no cameras, no stage lights... just you and him. The teacher asked if you were ready to start and both of you nodded, nervousness melting away in the presence of each other. It was amazing just how quickly your feelings had twisted and changed.

As the music began it was like a trance, the counts echoing in your head as you made your way through every motion. With every mock punch and shove, you let your body flow into the movement to create the illusion of much bigger moves. A clever tactic to ensure that nothing was overlooked and add power to the performance, though it seemed powerful enough without dramatics. That was something you had always admired about Minho - his ability to make every performance bigger than it actually was. He didn't have to be center stage to capture attention, he would simply bait your gaze towards him with his presence alone.

His fingers fluttering up your neck to squeeze your throat had the teacher rubbing his temples between his fingers. Of course you two were going to be dramatic and obscene, he should've expected it, though he hadn't even counted on you two getting along well enough to show up for the final.

Down onto your knees you both went, eliciting small gasps from the students watching you. Some moves were forbidden, but some were simply frowned upon and avoided out of respect, and you were certainly walking a fine line being choked out on your knees. The smirk on Minho's face as he glanced at the teacher before returning his gaze to you caused your face to heat up, a pink hue sneaking its way across your cheeks, though your makeup hid it well. You had become so accustomed to his smirk that you didn't realize how much you had craved it in the days leading up to the final, having not seen him since the last practice.

The ribbon he chose for the performance was a glittery silk, reflecting under the stage lights and matching the sparkly design of your outfits. He wrapped it around your body as usual, but when you pressed your back against him and slid down, you felt one of his nails graze the skin of your neck before quickly returning to its position. Even now he was going to tease and taunt you, begging you to do the same even though you both knew you'd crack as soon as you were dismissed from the stage.

You were breathless at the end of the song, Minho's face mere inches from yours as you both were trying to steady your breathing. The lights and outfits made it impossible to perform without overheating, your forehead shining with sweat as you waited for the teacher to dismiss you. You subtly gave an extra tug on the ribbon, watching Minho's expression melt into a smile as he leaned his forehead against yours. He didn't care that you were going to be docked points for not holding your positions at the end of the routine, he didn't care that every student was whispering to the person next to them about you two, and he definitely didn't care that the teacher was scolding him as he took you into his arms.

It was all you could do to keep your composure until you were both in the hallway, the cool air from the vents feeling heavenly right now as you stripped off any unnecessary piece of your outfit. Before you could say a word to him, Minho was already kissing you like he hadn't seen you in months, his hands securing themselves on your waist. The few students walking by gave stunned expressions and frantically called out to each other about the rumors being true. But you didn't care, it was all background noise to you at this point as you melted into his hold.

"You hear that? They're all saying you're my girlfriend now." He was still struggling to catch his breath, his voice low and airy against your lips. You smiled against him, lips brushing against his and whispering your response loud enough for only him to hear.

"I mean, they're not wrong."

Wait. Personality test. Reblog with whether you hate it when someone sings along to the music in the car or you think singing along is cool. Personally, I HATE it.

vulnerability is like so hard, if I told you anything sappy please know that I had a hand to hand combat with seven layers of embarrassment and repression