Can I Ask Something And I 100% Mean This Seriously, Not Trying To Be Rude But . Whats The Appeal Of All

can I ask something and I 100% mean this seriously, not trying to be rude but …. what’s the appeal of all the angst of the bet series? it doesn’t even end nicely, it’s just about you getting hurt and the skz member being an ass, isn’t that a little sad?

legit curious but no judgement, many people seem to be into it hahaha i’m just trying to understand <3

I get where ur going but my explanation is, AT LEAST FOR ME:

I like the feeling of getting hurt through stories and for some it’s kind of a stress reliever bc u can get mad and release that anger on the story. Some people also just like to read it bc it amuses them. Honestly, I’m not the best at explaining so that’s abt it.🤷‍♀️😭

I like being sad sometimes bc being hurt in something fictional is better than real life🥹 Also you know the outcome of the story so it gives more comfort. In life, you don’t know where it’s headed. So for some(me), it’s like a source of comfort.

But ye don’t worry. What you’re saying is completely understandable and it would be relatable but atm I can’t relate🥲 YEP!!!

Why is this so🥹

Artist’s pov

It was late, it had to be.

You stood in front of your oval bathroom mirror doing your skincare, the last part of your going to bed routine. You wanted nothing more than falling asleep in your boyfriend’s arms after another long and exhausting day, but being a woman required a bit of work at times.

As you pondered the fancy creams and expensive serums into your face you noticed your boyfriend watching you. Hyunjin loved spending time with you, even if it meant just being in the same room as you. He was leaning comfortably against the counter. His dark hair was tied up into a bun, he was wearing a matching dark sweater and accentuated his look with his golden glasses which he did not need but liked to wear anyway.

He watched you cautiously, not taking his eyes off you for even a second. His gaze was intense, yet curious and complimented the small smile on his plush lips.

“Jinnie, why are you watching me?” You spoke to his reflection in the mirror.

He chuckled silently. “How can I not watch you? You’re beautiful, darling.”

You brushed his sweet compliment off by laughing awkwardly. “Yeah right, the bags under my eyes and wrinkles on my face scream beauty.”

The look on his face abruptly changed as he realized what you had just said. He got up and walked right over to you. Even after being with him for some time it was still challenging to withstand his demeanor. His musky scent and seductive aura had you intoxicated without him even trying. You tried turning your head to get a proper look at him but Hyunjin held you in place and whispered into your ear.

“I don’t want you to say that ever again. Do you hear me?”

Hyunjin looked into your eyes in the reflection of the mirror and whispered barely audibly. “Look at yourself. Look how beautiful your features are. You are so used to them that you don’t even recognize them anymore, darling.”

You darted your eyes away from his and started observing your own features. Not everything was bad about yourself, but it was hard noticing anything but flaws lately. Most times you only saw your aging face and the changes your body was undergoing. Wrinkles, creases, sagging skin – it felt like youth was running from you and you tried your best to catch up. You really wanted to love yourself the way he loved you but that wasn’t an easy feat. Not only did you feel ashamed about the way you looked, but also about not being able to love yourself. Those feelings weighed heavy on your heart, no matter how hard you tried to conceive them.

Hyunjin watched you watching yourself and frowned, very well aware that you were not seeing yourself as he was seeing you.

„Y/N“, he placed a sweet kiss on your neck, „look at me, please.“

His kiss brought you out of your head and back to reality – a reality in which this beautiful man was head over heels in love with you. It took you a second to concentrate on his words as his touch alone let you drift off to your bedroom instantly. You faced him in the mirror and he smiled coyly. “Good girl.”

He was still standing behind you, his strong arms on both of your sides, his head tilted and resting on your shoulder.

“You are so precious to me. It baffles me how you cannot comprehend your own beauty, y/n. When I look at you, I only see love. And strength. I see beauty and grace. I see so much life in you, I can’t help but falling in love with my gorgeous muse over and over again.”

You started choking up. No one had ever said those words to you. No one had ever seen you like that, especially not someone as perfect as Hyunjin. He took your small hands into his and placed them over your tummy – squeezing them lightly. You watched him place kisses all over your neck, making eye contact after each one. You relaxed more into his touch – you allowed yourself to receive the love he was offering.

Hyunjin noticed this too and spun you around. Your fingers intertwined, foreheads resting against each other, breath synchronized. You felt close to him - not only physically, but emotionally.

„Oh and also, the bags under your eyes?“, he leaned back as he spoke to you, „proof of your hard work. You work so hard to achieve your dreams and I like that. Your ambition is very sexy, darling.“

You wanted to smile but broke into a heartfelt laughter as he placed kisses under your eyes.

He also giggled. „Stop laughing, I can’t kiss you properly. Wait no, forget that. I love your laugh. I love how much you do it - you always find humor in any situation. It‘s…”. He stumbled for words. “It’s so easy to be with you, y/n. You make me so happy. You make me feel light and carefree. I love going through life like that and I don’t want you to ever change. Let those wrinkles be the proof of a life spent in joy.”

He traced the fine lines on your face and smiled sincerely. You believed his every word, knowing he meant what he said. You grabbed his right hand and placed a fond kiss on it, thanking him.

He looked at you confused. “What are you thanking me for, darling?”

Now it was your time to chuckle and place sweet kisses on top of him. “Thank you for loving me when I’m not able to.”

do u have a masterlist I’m in love with ur work omg

I'm sorry I don't currently have one since I don't have much work out. But I'll have one out soon along with a introduction post

This was so cute and amazing🥹. like how did I go from crying to awww to kicking my feet and giggling?🤷🏻‍♀️

Also reblogging bc i need something to distract ppl waiting for my pt.2 😭

could we try again?

pairing: minho x fem!reader

synopsis: When your best friend Minho returns to town four years after disappearing off the face of the earth you’re a little less than excited about it. Feeling heart broken and betrayed you refuse his attempt at reconciliation. That’s until you discover the real reason why he left all those years ago.

warnings: no major warnings, implied smut but nothing explicit, angst, best friends to almost lovers to lovers, happy ending

✿: @hhwangsmoon @straywrds @l3visbby @armysantiny @hwajin @casualtaelyn @staybangchan @hopeladybug @midsoulz @aestheticsluut @venustired @abiaswreck @deathlypink @djeniryuu @rachabreathing @alyszaen @starlostseungmin @bokk-minnie @spicymooseeyes @downbadreading @moasworld @ren0325 @ketchupaeternum @like-a-diamondinthesky @itsgivingitalian @sea-moon-star @idkluvutellme

one.

They say if you love someone, let them go and if they return to you it was meant to be. If they don’t, well, their love was never truly yours to begin with.

You hadn’t been the one to let go, not willingly anyway.

Minho had told you he loved you and then days later he was gone. There wasn’t a trace of him to be found besides crumpled bed sheets and a photo of the two of you beneath his pillow. He had up and left his shared apartment without so much of a word to you or to his roommates.

No one knew where he went. There were no calls, no texts, no letters. There was nothing to tell any of you what had happened.

You had been the most heartbroken out of all of them. Many years of your life were spent pining after Minho. You watched him fall in love and get his heart broken while you stood by and waited for the day he would see you as more than just a friend. Then finally, many years and another horrible breakup later, he had finally uttered a confession you had yearned to hear.

“I’m tired of pretending to love other people when all my heart wants is you.”

Those words had continued to haunt you.

None of your lives had been the same without him. Hyunjin had lost his dance mentor. Chan and Changbin had lost their roommate and you—you had lost the love of your life.

The four of you had tried to contact anyone that might know what happened to him; old childhood friends and family members alike, only to be met with the same answer.

No one knew where he had gone—or rather no one would tell you where he had gone.

Now four grueling years have passed.

You had already gone through all of the stages of grief and then repeated them all over again. You felt numb in his absence. It was hard at first to go about your day-to-day life without him. For so long he had been your other half—both as a friend and a lover—that to not have him by your side felt wrong.

You felt empty.

Minho had been the only man you ever loved and the one you had lost. You had no idea where he had gone, but no matter how confused and hurt you were, you still wanted him to come back to you.

One night you found yourself outside of your friend’s apartment, scuffing your shoes against the welcome mat as you waited for one of them to open the door.

The warm summer days had soon turned into crisp autumn nights and while you often found yourself appreciating the cold every now and then you could practically smell the popcorn wafting from their apartment calling your name. Your stomach gurgled at the buttery smell, hearing shuffling behind the door before it was being pulled open. Butter and spice hit you instantly, a mix that you didn't ever find yourself thinking you’d like but somehow you didn’t mind if it was coming from Changbin.

“Hey,” he greets you, stepping aside so that you can make your way into the apartment.

A shiver wracks through your body as the warmth envelopes you.

“Sorry for leaving you outside. Chan almost burnt down the kitchen right before you arrived.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE WHO LEFT THE POPCORN OVER THE OPEN FLAME AND WALKED OFF,” you hear Chan yell from the kitchen.

You watch Changbin roll his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest.

“Always trying to blame me,” he huffs.

Then his eyes shift to you, a soft pout forming on his lips.

“You know I’m innocent don’t you Y/n?”

That damn pout. Seo Changbin was really too cute for his own good.

Before you can say anything, Chan’s popping his head around the corner—fixing you both with a glare.

“You,” he points at Changbin.

“Go clean up your mess.”

“And you,” his eyes soften when they meet your gaze, making his way towards you before wrapping his arms around you.

“Go get comfy on the couch. You look like you’ve had a long day,” he says as he pulls back, gently ruffling your hair before dragging Changbin to the kitchen by his ear—resulting in a whine from the other.

A giggle slips past your lips as you watch the two of them go.

Shortly after, the three of you are wholed up in the living room—bowls of popcorn in laps and on the coffee table laughing at some cheesy movie Chan has picked out to watch. It’s not long after the movie is over that Changbin gets a call from Jisung, asking him to come down to the studio.

“I’m sorry I have to bail on our movie date Y/n,” Changbin pouts before bending down to give you a hug.

“Uh I’m literally right here,” your eldest friend mumbles.

You giggle at Chan’s pout.

“It’s alright. Be safe, okay?”

Changbin nods before clapping Chan on the shoulder and making his way out of the apartment.

Chan raises an eyebrow at you before nodding towards the door that Changbin had just exited through.

“Should I be jealous?”

You roll your eyes as you pull your knees to your chest.

“Of what? Me being nice?”

Chan laughs.

“That seemed a little more than nice to me Y/n.”

You frown at him, turning your attention to the credits still rolling on the screen.

“You know it’s not like that,” you mumble, a mop of brown hair and catlike eyes flashing through your mind.

“I’m sorry I was just messing around–.”

“It’s fine. You don’t have to apologize.”

You meet his gaze which has softened significantly.

“I like Changbin.”

Chan nods as he plays with the edge of the popcorn bowl.

“But I don’t think it can ever be anything more than just that. At least not right now.”

Silence passes over the two of you momentarily.

“You still love him.”

It wasn’t a question but a simple statement that had your chest tightening. You nodded before leaning back against the couch.

“I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You didn’t say much else. You wanted to but there was nothing left to say. It had been four years and you still couldn’t bring yourself to go any further than the living room of their apartment. As much as you loved Jisung you couldn’t accept that Minho’s old room had been taken over by him.

Sometimes it felt like his existence had just been your mind playing tricks on you.

As the world moved on you still couldn’t and you were scared that you never would.

“Are we still on for Friday,” Chan asks, changing the subject to which you were grateful.

You shrugged as you grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl propped on his lap.

“I’m not sure Channie. You know parties aren’t really my thing.”

“I know but—but we are celebrating your promotion,” he added suddenly before shoving some of the popcorn into his mouth.

“So you have to come!”

You cocked an eyebrow at his seemingly innocent expression.

“Now it’s celebrating my promotion? With people who don’t even know I exist?”

Chan shot you a sheepish smile.

“That’s not true. You know some of them!”

You rolled your eyes before reaching out to take another handful of popcorn but Chan held the bowl out of your reach.

“Chan—.”

“I’ll make sure the fridge is stocked with your favorite drink,” he tried, bottom lip jutting out.

You sigh as you lean back against the couch. He was making it hard for you to say no to him.

“Better not let anyone touch it this time Chan.”

“No one will touch your precious drinks.”

“I’m serious. If I come only to find out that Hyunjin has downed them all again he’s not going to remain pretty for very long.”

“I’ll make sure to pass on the message,” he laughs.

two.

Tonight couldn't get any worse.

You had half a mind to just turn around and go home. The muffled music coming from inside of the apartment wasn’t doing anything to help the headache you were currently sporting.

In all honesty, your phone had been on its last moments of life anyway. Although dropping it in a puddle on your way to work earlier that day hadn’t been ideal, what was even less ideal was the fact that your new phone wouldn’t be in store until Monday.

Three days without a phone. You could do it.

You didn’t even bother knocking on the door, knowing that no one would hear you anyway. You slipped inside, the smell of sweat and alcohol so thick that it made you feel lightheaded. Most of the party goers were in the living room, drinking and laughing away. You spotted Chan in the midst of it all, his arms stretched over the back of the couch as he talked to Felix who sat on his right. You spotted a few more familiar faces here and there but overall the majority of the bodies filling the apartment you had been unfamiliar with.

You decided to head straight for the kitchen. It had been pretty much deserted except for a few people who had opted for a quieter place to chat. Your eyes landed on the cups and bottles scattered about the countertop. If one thing could save your day it would be the drinks that Chan had bribed you with. You head straight to the fridge, pulling open the door to find them untouched, a small sticky note attached to them that read ‘for Y/n only!’ You couldn’t help but to smile at the note before pulling a bottle out.

You settled on one of the bar stools, scooting the abandoned cups and snacks away from you before leaning against the granite. The music continues to play from the other room as you take a swig of your drink, letting out a sigh at the taste.

“I heard you threatened my life over those things,” a voice sounds from your left.

Turning, you find a surprisingly sober Hyunjin eyeing you from the doorway with a small smirk on his lips.

You shrug before taking another sip of the drink.

“Not your life, just your face. It was the only way to ensure that I would get at least one this time.”

The blonde laughs as he makes his way towards your slumped figure, sliding onto the stool next to you.

“I can’t believe you Y/n. I thought I was your favorite,” he pouted as he propped his chin on one of his hands.

A smile tugged at the corner of your lips, reaching out to ruffle his hair. Hyunjin whined as he swatted at your hand.

“Of course you’re my favorite Hyun. But I had to put me first,” you giggle, already feeling a little dizzy from the few sips you had taken.

Hyunjin beams at you.

“Better not let Changbin hear you say that.”

Your smile falls ever so slightly at the mention of your other friend. This was the second person that had mentioned him now and from the way Hyunjin’s eyebrows were wagging at you, you knew he had meant it in the same way Chan had.

“There’s nothing going on between us Jinnie,” you sigh, eyeing the bottle in front of you.

A part of you knew that their comments and teasing were only harmless, they would never do anything to hurt you and you knew that. But ever since you and Changbin had gotten closer after Minho left, you couldn’t help but to think that a small part of all of them wanted you to move on. But no matter how nice Changbin was, he wasn't Minho. It had been four years but your heart couldn’t let him go. It wouldn’t be fair to Changbin.

Before Hyunjin could say anything, Chan’s stumbling into the kitchen—eyes wide and frantic as he searches the room for something or rather someone. He makes his way towards you, eyes wide as he scans you from head to toe.

“Y/n why haven’t you been answering your phone,” Chan asked as he shakes your shoulders slightly, panic evident in his features.

You grumble at the motion, removing his hands from your shoulders.

“Dropped it in a puddle earlier. I won’t have another one until Monday.”

“S-So you didn’t get any of my messages?”

Chan seemed stiff as you looked him up and down.

“No, why? Is something wrong—.”

“You need to leave.”

You were a bit taken aback by the sternness in his voice.

“Hyung–,” Hyunjin starts but you cut him off.

“Excuse me? Weren’t you the one that practically begged me to come? I just got here!”

He dragged a hand through his hair, clearly distressed.

“Yes but I just need you to go. I’ll explain everything later okay?”

“Chan I—.”

“Hyung, Felix is trying to hang from the ceiling fan again,” Jisung slurs as he stumbles into the kitchen.

Chan sighs, brows furrowing in clear frustration.

“Come help me Hyunjin,” the older man states as he turns towards the blonde.

“Y/n,” his voice is desperate, eyes pleading as they search yours.

You nod, a feeling of uneasiness overcoming you.

“Y-Yeah okay. I’ll go.”

Chan nods before ushering the other two to follow him. Your eyes fall back to the bottle in your hand, throwing it back as you finish the drink. You pull yourself from the stool and discard your bottle, moving to the fridge to retrieve another one before you take your leave. The sticky note catches your eye once more and an uncomfortable feeling forms in the pit of your stomach.

Chan’s scene only moments earlier had left you feeling uneasy.

Why did he want you to leave?

Too busy staring at the yellow piece of paper, you didn’t realize that the answer to your question had wandered into the kitchen. That was until their presence was right beside you.

Someone clears their throat, pulling you out of your clouded thoughts.

“Sorry I was just—,” your words die on the tip of your tongue as your gaze meets his.

For a passing moment, the two of you just stare at one another.

“Hey,” he breathes, a small smile on his face as he takes you in.

Strands of now ash blond hair fall into his eyes, watching as his hands slip into the pockets of his leather jacket as he greets you.

You felt as though the wind had just been knocked out of you. You thought about this moment more than you cared to admit—what it would be like to see him again. In that daydream you had leapt into his arms, and had cried tears of happiness. But in reality, all the feelings you had bottled up these past few years had managed to resurface with a single word.

You felt nothing but hurt.

“Hey?”

Minho blinks down at you, his smile slowly faltering.

You scoff as you shut the fridge door with more force than you intended before turning to him.

“Four years and all you have to say to me is hey?”

Your voice has risen at this point, causing other partygoers to cast curious looks in your direction. Minho winces slightly at the sharpness in your tone, reaching a hand out towards you.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

You try your best to ignore the hurt that flashes across his face. Tears begin to surface as you push past him. You make your way through the house, a call of your name getting lost somewhere in the crowd as you make your way to the door. Before you know it you’re out of the house and on the street.

It isn’t until you’re halfway down the block that you realize why Chan had been so distressed.

You should have left without question.

Maybe then you could have saved yourself from the heartache that was currently suffocating you.

three.

When you wake up the next morning you think it had all just been a bad dream.

You hadn’t drank that much but your head pounded as if you had consumed an entire pack and then some. Your joints popped as you sat up, letting out a small groan as you did so. The shirt and shorts you sported caused you to frown.

“You're up,” you startle at the voice sounding from your bedroom door.

Chan makes his way over to you looking exactly how you feel. His curly hair is a mess and the bags under his eyes tell you he hadn’t slept properly.

Your couch hadn’t been the best for sleeping anyway.

It was silent between the two of you. There was so much to say, so many feelings that needed to be discussed but you couldn’t find the words.

“Thank you for changing my clothes,” you whisper, voice hoarse from crying.

Chan looks at you then, a soft huff leaving him.

“I know that’s not what you want to say,” he says.

You sigh as you run your hands over your face, cringing at how dry and rough your face feels beneath your fingers.

“I don’t know what to say Chan.”

Without warning, Chan wordlessly pulls you against him, arms wrapping around your frame as you tuck your face against his neck.

“Did you see me leave,” you ask as you pull back.

Chan hesitates before shaking his head.

“I came back to the kitchen and found Minho.”

You nod as your eyes fall to your lap.

“He told me you had left—asked me to go and find you because he didn’t want to upset you even more.”

You nod unknowing of what to say.

“It’s all really sudden isn’t it? I didn’t expect him to come back at all, let alone show up at my apartment last night.”

You don’t say anything, watching as Chan drags his hands through his hair.

“He wants to meet to talk later.”

You nod as you play with your fingers.

“He wants us all to go to his place.”

His place? He had a place here? How long had he been back exactly?

“I understand if you don’t want to go. He told me to pass the message along to you but he understands if you don’t want to see him.”

“I don’t—I can’t right now,” your voice is shaky.

“Hey,” Chan whispers, his palm gently soothing over your back.

“You have every right to be angry with him, we all do. If you aren’t ready then that’s okay.”

You nod as you rest your head against his shoulder.

“Will I ever be ready,” you find yourself wondering out loud.

“One day,” he says as he softly squeezes your shoulder.

“But there’s no rush. Go at your own pace and talk to him when you are ready.”

Your curiosity doesn’t seem to overpower your broken heart.

You couldn’t face him right now.

four.

You let out a sigh, taking in the trees as you leaned back against the park bench.

Fall was finally starting to set upon your quaint little town. The seasonal decorations filled the shops of windows and the trees began to change their color with the arrival of the crisp autumn air.

A laugh left your throat but there was no humor behind it.

Minho had left at the beginning of fall and somehow managed to return around the same time.

Half a month had passed since then, the world still moved and yet you couldn't bring yourself to move with it. You hadn't seen your friends since then and you had begun to miss them.

In truth, you missed Minho too.

The night after the party all of them had went to Minho’s place. All that they had told you was that it was worth hearing Minho out but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

All of the hurt and anger had taken over that night. Tipsy and heartbroken, you had lashed out on the one man you were yearning to see again. You sigh as you lean forward, letting your head fall into your gloved hands.

How could you ever face him again?

A small giggle pulled you out of your thoughts. Lifting your head in the direction of the source your eyes spotted a little girl, crouched beneath a tree as she held her hand out towards a stray cat. You frowned as you looked around, noticing that there wasn't an adult with her. You got up from the bench, making your way towards the child.

The cat sensed your presence before she did, ears perking up as the leaves crunched softly between your feet. You stopped a few steps away, squatting down and holding your hand out to the small creature eyeing you curiously. The cat darted towards you, sniffing at your fingertips before rubbing its head against your palm.

"Kitty likes you," you hear the little girl laugh.

You eyes meet hers where she watches you and the cat from where she's slumped against the tree.

"I think the kitty likes you too," you laugh before lifting the stray into your arms.

The child lets out a sound of wonder as she makes her way towards you on her little legs. She reaches a chubby hand out to pat gently at the cat's head, giggling when it gives her a few licks. Something about her wide, catlike eyes seemed familiar to you.

"You really like cats huh," you ask, watching as the little girl nods enthusiastically.

"Daddy and I have three kitties!"

You couldn't help but to smile as she recalled her cats and what they looked like to you.

"Oh really? And where is your dad–.”

“Yena!”

You freeze at the sound of his voice.

“Daddy,” the child called as she ran towards the voice behind you.

Your hands began to shake, a small meow leaving the cat in your arms as if it sensed your distress. The cat climbed out of your embrace, walking in the direction that the little girl had wandered off.

“I told you to stay right by my side! You can’t just wander off like that!”

Minho’s voice was firm as he scolded the child. As you turned, you noticed the discarded bag of food on the ground, Minho's hands placed firmly on the little girl’s shoulders.

“M’sorry,” the little girl hung her head, “I just saw a kitty and I wanted to pet it.”

You watch as Minho takes a deep breath, the tension slipping from his shoulders as Yena bends down to pet the cat rubbing against her legs.

“Promise you won’t do that again. I thought I lost you,” his last words were mumbled, but you both had heard them nonetheless.

Yena shook her head, her little hands coming up to cup Minho’s face.

“I’m not lost, I'm right here!”

Minho couldn’t help but laugh at the child, taking her small hands into his own.

“Just don’t do it again. Promise,” he asked, holding out his pinky.

She made a sound as she wrapped her little pinky around his.

“Promise!”

Minho nodded before standing and brushing the grass from his jeans before retrieving the bag of food.

“I’m really sorry Miss,” he speaks to you as he collects his things.

“I was paying for our food and she—.”

His words stop as his eyes meet yours.

“Y/n.”

The way he says your name has your stomach churning. Minho’s eyes shift worriedly between his child and you.

He looked scared.

You open your mouth but nothing seems to come out.

“I’m sorry for the trouble I caused Miss Y/n.”

Your gaze was torn from his at the child's voice, a soft pout on her face as she blinked up at you.

Now you know why they were so familiar. They were his eyes.

You shook your head, plastering a smile on your face as you bent down.

“It’s alright sweetheart. But don’t run off from your dad again okay? You really scared him.”

You hear Minho’s breath hitch slightly but you pay no mind to it as the little girl nods at you.

“I won't.”

When you stand back up you're faced with a conflicted Minho. You want to run, you want to cry, you want to scream. But you don’t, you don’t do anything.

“Daddy can Miss Y/n come to eat with us? I like her,” the little girl exclaims before beaming up at you.

“Oh well—.” Minho casts an unsure glance in your direction.

“I’m sure Miss Y/n is very busy.”

The child pouts and your chest clenches.

Copy and paste.

She was Minho’s child through and through.

Despite the sudden and unexpected revelation you couldn’t help but to fear that Yena’s mother would also be there.

“Are you busy,” the child asks and Minho frowns at her for being so bold but his gaze flickers towards you as they both await your answer.

“I’m not.”

You should have said yes. You should have said yes and walked away from them.

Minho looks a bit relieved that you are even considering going with them.

“Then please join us. Only if you would like to of course.”

Minho wasn’t pushing you but rather allowing you to choose.

Despite the way your stomach rolled you nodded nonetheless.

five.

Minho’s home wasn’t all that far from yours. In fact, it was about a 10 minute walk from your place. A part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he had chosen this place on purpose.

His apartment was nice—much nicer than your place a few streets away. Upon entry you had spotted three sets of eyes staring at you.

“Miss Y/n come meet our kitties,” Yena squeals before grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the couch.

You have already met the cats. Played with them, bought them gifts, even helped Minho to name Dori when he brought the kitten home.

But Yena didn’t know that and you weren’t sure Minho wanted her to know who you were at all.

However your thoughts are cut short when Minho speaks.

“Y/n has met them before Yena.”

His daughter stops on her tracks, tilting her head curiously at him.

“She has?”

Minho’s eyes flicker to yours.

“Y/n and I are—friends?”

You don’t miss the questioning tone on the last word but Yena does.

“You’re daddy’s friend?”

You look down to find the little girl staring up at you.

She looked as if Minho had crawled out of his baby photo and grew longer hair. The resemblance was unmistakable.

You nod before looking back at Minho.

“Your dad and I were very close.”

Minho swallows hard at that.

“Oh my gosh,” the little girl exclaims before dashing towards the hall.

“Be careful,” Minho yells to her but she’s already gone.

You observe him for a moment. He looks exhausted and you’re certain you would be as well.

The little girl returns moments later with a picture clutched in her hands.

“Is this you,” she asks before stretching her arm out towards you.

“Are you the angel daddy always talks about?”

You open your mouth to speak but before you can Minho is reaching for the picture.

“Okay little miss detective,” Minho laughs as he kneels in front of his daughter.

“Why don’t you go wash up so we can eat hm?”

Yena nods before taking off once more, this time towards what you assume is the bathroom.

When she’s gone Minho’s smile drops and instead is replaced with an apologetic look.

“Y/n I’m so sorry.”

You stare at him for a moment.

“For what exactly?”

Minho sighs, dropping your gaze as he looks down at the picture in his hands.

“There’s too much.”

You think you should be angry but the broken look on his face makes you think there’s more to the story. Minho would never intentionally hurt you. A part of you knew that.

“Maybe we can talk about it after dinner?”

Minho’s eyes meet yours once again, this time looking more hopeful.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

six.

Yena is just like her father.

She’s unbelievably mischievous but she’s also kind and incredibly smart.

Minho has her enrolled in dance classes which she informs you starts the following Monday. You’re certain that she will succeed in the skill just like her father had.

Minho’s gaze doesn’t leave you or his daughter; there's a fond look in his eyes as he observes the way you interact with one another.

It feels weird. A little too weird but at the same time it feels comfortable in a way.

There are still so many questions that have been left unanswered.

You will admit that a part of you felt relieved as you noticed the only pictures in the house were of Minho and Yena.

There was no sign of another woman.

As if Minho could sense your inner turmoil he cleared his throat, “I think it's a bedtime bun.”

Yena frowned, “Can we watch an episode of Cuddly Wuddly and Friends? Please?”

Minho sighs but gives in.

“Just one and then it’s bedtime. Go brush your teeth and then we will get your pajamas on.”

The TV show puts the child to sleep almost instantly.

All it takes is a few seconds of singing and colorful lights and Yena is out like a light.

You watch the way Minho caresses his daughter's hair gently. There’s a soft smile on his face as he watches her. But then it suddenly seems he remembers the presence next to him on the couch.

Minho’s smile slips slightly as he turns to you.

You aren’t sure what to say to him and neither does he to you.

“Can we talk?”

You nod, “Yeah. I’d like it if we did.”

Minho nods before carefully moving, removing himself from beneath the slumbering child. Once he makes sure Yena is comfortably tucked against the cushions he nods in the direction of the kitchen.

You take a seat atop one of the barstools while Minho makes tea for the two of you.

After he slides you your mug, he positions himself on the stool next to you.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Minho sighs.

He looks tired, not so much from being a father but rather an unknown weight he’s been carrying since the last time you saw him.

“How about why you just disappeared?”

The words come out more bitter than you intend them to.

Minho hunkers in on himself as he drags his hands down his face.

“What I did to you was unfair. I shouldn’t have run away like that. I will never be able to tell you how sorry I am for doing so.”

Minho turned to you, reaching out towards your clasped hands. When you don’t pull away, he intertwines your fingers together and you let him.

You missed his touch terribly.

“Min,” the nickname falls from your lips, “I’m so confused.”

“Ask me anything,” he breathes.

You stare at him for a moment, mouth opening and closing as you consider your words carefully.

“Did you—did I have anything to do with you leaving?”

Minho is quick to shake his head, squeezing your hands in reassurance as he does so.

“No Y/n. None of this was ever about you. I was a coward and I was afraid of what you were going to think of me if you found out the truth. I wanted you so much and I fucked up and lost you.”

You feel like a bucket of ice water is poured down your spine at his words.

“What do you mean?”

Minho’s gaze meets yours, he looks so defeated.

“Yena, she means the world to me,” he whispers.

“I just wish I could have had her with you instead.”

You feel your breath catch at the confession.

“Who’s her mother?”

One look at him and you already regret asking because you knew. That also explains why she’s not currently in the picture.

Minho’s ex has never been one to be tied down but you also knew that her family would have forced her to keep the baby. As you eye the child sleeping peacefully on the couch you are grateful that she did because you had never seen Minho love someone as much as he loved his daughter.

“I swear I didn’t know until a couple of weeks after you and I had confessed to one another. I would never hurt you like that. It was a drunk and stupid mistake,” Minho's voice is strained.

“What happened,” you found your voice after a few moments.

You knew you’d probably regret asking but you just wanted answers.

“We got drunk and yelled at each other and then well—,” Minho sighs as he looks over his shoulder as the sleeping child.

“I know I hurt you Y/n but I couldn’t face you. I felt like I had betrayed you even though we weren’t together at the time it happened. But I never intended to sleep with her. I woke up and didn’t remember a thing. I was afraid if I told you that you wouldn’t want to be with me. So I made the decision for you and that was wrong of me.”

You nodded as you took a shaky breath, staring down into your nearly empty cup of tea.

“It was. I loved you Minho. It would have been hard but I would have understood. I would have stayed with you.”

You watch as his face falls, eyes glossing over before quickly looking away.

“Hey,” you whisper as you squeeze his hand.

“Don’t hide from me anymore. Please?”

Minho's tears begin to fall as he turns towards you, letting his head fall into your shoulder. You gently run your fingers through his hair as his body wracks with silent sobs.

“I’m such a shitty person,” he laughs but there’s no humor behind it, “A shitty dad too.”

You shake your head as you squeeze his shoulder.

“Minho I can assure you that’s not true.”

He doesn’t look at you, only sniffs silently as he shifts to look at the sleeping child once more.

“What makes you say that?”

You shrug slightly as you find yourself looking at the slumbering child as well.

“She’s alive isn’t she?”

Your attempt at joking didn’t fail as Minho huffed a laugh against your shoulder.

“You got me there.”

“Plus she’s incredibly kind and polite and from what I can tell she has the biggest heart. She’s independent and strong willed. You’re doing an amazing job with her Min.”

A soft laugh leaves him as you continue running your fingers through his hair, missing the feeling of it between your fingers.

Minho wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against him as he dug his face into your neck.

The movement had your body stiffening, having to try and control the fluttering in your chest as he pressed further against you.

Four years and a child later but he was still the same Minho you fell in love with.

He presses a tentative kiss against your neck. When you don’t react negatively he presses another and then another, trailing his lips up your neck until you are face to face once more.

Minho gulps, red eyes flickering between yours and your lips.

“I never stopped loving you,” he breathed.

The confession sent a shudder throughout your body.

“I never stopped loving you,” you echoed back.

Minho released a breath neither of you realized he was holding before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was soft at first, the only roughness being that of Minho’s chapped lips.

But no kiss had ever felt more perfect than his.

His hands squeezed your waist where they had been resting causing a soft whimper to leave your lips. Minho growled lowly at the sound, his kiss becoming rougher and more rushed than before.

“M-Min wait,” you gasped as your hands pushed at his chest.

His eyes were hooded as they met yours, tongue darting out to wet his already spit slicked lips.

“You’re not leaving again, right? You’ll stay?”

Your words seemed to sober Minho up, pulling him out of whatever trance the kiss had on him.

“How could I ever leave again,” he whispered as he cast a glance at the sleeping child before meeting your gaze.

“How could I leave when everything I’ve always wanted is right here?”

After a long talk between the two of you, Minho had carefully removed Yena from the couch and carried her to bed.

He had asked you to stay and when you nodded he had taken you by the hand and led you to his bedroom. Once the door was shut tight Minho kissed you once more.

That kiss led to more kisses, deeper and deeper each time.

Those kisses had led to your back being pressed into the bed as Minho took you apart beneath him. Hushed whimpers and moans passed between the two of you as Minho made love to you.

He had brought you to ecstasy several times in the dwindling final hours of the night.

Laying with him in bed, naked limbs tangled together as your head rested on his chest—you think you feel truly happy for the first time in a long time.

“You look like an angel,” Minho had whispered as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the look in his gaze but you had never felt more loved.

“Can I ask you a question,” you whisper against his bare chest.

“Anything.”

“What did Yena mean earlier? When she asked me if I was the angel in that photo?”

Minho looked slightly embarrassed as his head fell back against the pillow before letting out a huff of laughter.

“I always talked to her about you. Even if you decided that you’d never want to see me again, I thought she deserved to know about the woman that stole my heart.”

You proppered yourself up to look down at him, a rush of heat spreading through your body as your gazes met.

“But why Angel? Why not use my real name instead?”

Minho shrugged as he cupped your face, guiding your own lips towards his before connecting them softly.

“That’s what I always referred to you as. Because that’s what you are,” he whispered against your lips.

“My angel.”

Your heart had been broken and empty for so long. But the look in Minho’s eyes and his words had mended that.

He had come back to you.

He had come home.

epilogue.

A few days later and you were on your way to see your friends again.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the prospect of being reunited with all of them for a game night.

Once Minho had made sure Yena was fastened in her car seat, he slid into the driver's side. His hand never left yours the entire way there.

After your night spent with Minho, it was like he hadn’t left at all.

Things fell back into place, Minho was by your side and your world started moving once more.

Chan had been the one to open the door upon your arrival. There was a smile on his face as he looked fondly between the three of you. Yena rushed to him, demanding for her Uncle Chan to pick her up which he instantly complied.

How could anyone resist her charm?

Upon entering, Chan had carried Yena into the kitchen and Minho had followed them after greeting both Jisung and Changbin.

As you made your way into the living room, Jisung had uttered something about forgetting to buy some things before making his way to the door, leaving both you and Changbin alone.

Your eyes fell on the man who had recently showered if the wet strands atop of his head were anything to go by.

“Slept well I presume,” Changbin smirks up at you.

It wasn’t a secret to anyone that you had been spending more time at Minho’s place than your own recently.

You felt your face flush at his suggestive tone.

“Shut up Bin,” you whine softly as you plop down on the couch next to him.

Changbin let out a laugh as he adjusted his glasses.

“Are you happy?”

Things between you and Changbin had been different than with you and your other friends. You’ll admit that with time, you might have even found yourself falling for Changbin. But with Minho’s return, the waltz that had been going on silently between you and Changbin had finally come to an end. Changbin didn’t seem too bothered by it so you know that you shouldn’t feel any guilt in being happy with the man you had never truly stopped loving.

“I am.”

Changbin smiled at you before reaching out to tousle your hair.

“Good. I’m glad. You deserve to be happy Y/n.”

Before you can say anything, Yena is bounding into the room and towards Changbin who easily lifts the child into his lap. Minho isn’t far behind, a soft smile on his face as his eyes fall on you. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of your head before taking a seat next to you.

Changbin’s words replay in your head as your lover settles next to you.

You deserved to be happy and after four years, you felt that you finally could be.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

One day, we will all find our man like this🥹🤞🏻💗

Bro you write Felix so well! I have an idea for a request if you're willing ^^

He buys the reader flowers a lot and keeps one from each bouquet so he knows when the rest are dying and he can buy them more! It doesn't have to be boyfriend!felix, I'll leave that up to you! Just something super cute and wholesome, love that!!

A Lesson in Gift-Giving

PAIRING - Felix x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS - Sometimes gift-giving doesn't go as smooth as you plan. Felix realizes the error of his ways after months away on tour.

WORDCOUNT - 2.5k

WARNINGS - Fluff, humor, newly-established relationship, which means there's a little miscommunication, but we get through it like champs ✊🏻

A/N - I love this idea so much! Got a little inspo just from your request, which I added in, hope you don't mind 😅 Wrote it as bf!Felix just cause it's a vibe.

"This is... definitely not getting out of hand."

You mutter these words to yourself as you stare down the latest delivery of fresh cut flowers sitting on your kitchen counter. Pink and white mini-carnations stare back at you in all their ruffled-petal glory, their sweet scent wafting through your personal space. The handwritten note between your fingers is cheesy and adorable; so very Felix. You scratch the side of your head in bemusement.

Most would say such a reaction to a bouquet of flowers was rude, considering it came from your boyfriend. But as you sit here amongst the variety of florals in your home, you think you've had enough to sustain you for the rest of the year.

It all began with one trip to a local Flea Market. You had stepped inside one of the mini shops on the way out only to catch the dashing white orchids in their pot on the shelf. Felix had offered to buy them for you as a little gift, and with hearts in your eyes, you had accepted. You stare at it now - a glorious centerpiece of four months that is absolutely thriving in its own right.

Then came the fresh cut peonies.

You were over the moon when Felix had surprised you with the first bouquet two weeks later, but you never could've imagined the deluge of flowers that would follow like clockwork. And you accepted all of them with the utmost gratitude. You'd also developed an odd relationship with the delivery guy over time; saying nothing verbally, but everything with the great art of facial miming, if that was even a thing.

The only thing about such a gift is that your place was beginning to look less like a home and more like a florist's shop. Your kitchen island not only held your thriving orchid display, but those same lush peonies, now dried in hues of dusty pinks. As your collection of flowers grew, so did your creativity. The flourishing arrangement of blooms that you had gotten for your four month anniversary had been carefully pressed between paper-towel-lined book pages for roughly two weeks before you were able to proudly display them in the frame above your bed.

It's safe to say you've turned just about every blank space in your home into a floral oasis over the last few months.

What was supposed to be a simple, romantic gesture was quickly derailing. Only problem was you had to be the one to stop it. After being with Felix for six months, you'd think such a simple conversation would be... well, simple. And yet, you stand here in a state of blooming panic.

A knock at the door brings you back to your current predicament. Your fingers twitch around the cardstock, crumpling the edge as your feet move in short strides toward the entrance. You're half expecting the delivery guy again, but as you swing the door open, you're even more surprised to find your boyfriend standing there with a smile that rivals the sun and-

"More flowers...!"

They're Dahlias this time - an arrangement of small but vibrant Orange Button blooms that compliment their larger, blushing Café au Lait companions. The contrast between them in both size and color is stunning; warm candle flames licking at the edges of whimsical ivory bones.

"Special delivery!" Felix's bubbly voice sets your heart in motion, and although you're seeing flower petals behind your eyelids, you can't help but smile at the cellophane-wrapped bouquet in his hand. A tote bag hangs off his other arm, filled to the brim with you can only guess what.

"Felix!?" You shake your head but lunge at him with open arms, a mix of confusion and excitement crossing your face. "Tour doesn't end for another three days. What are you doing here?"

"Last stop was canceled so I pulled some strings and caught a red-eye." He murmurs, burying his nose into your scalp. You feel him sink into your touch, a deep release of breath that says he's happy to be back home. God, did he miss you.

You pull away, ushering him inside and taking the flowers with the utmost care.

"Dahlias aren't even in season yet, where'd you get these?!"

You miss the furrow of his brow as he slugs his shoes off at the mat, following you through the immediate hallway.

"I may have pulled some more strings..." Felix trails off, footsteps faltering once he's in the open space of the kitchen and living room. He hears your laugh, lips quirking into a lopsided grin as he takes in the familiar centerpiece on the island. When you turn around, you catch those brown eyes shift from the orchids to the peonies that sit beside them. He points at the mummified bouquet with a tilt of his head.

"Are those~" He blinks, setting the tote bag down on the cool marble. "Are those the peonies I bought you for our one month?"

You hum an affirmative, lips thinning as you disappear down the hallway in search of a vase. Every single floral in your house is like a bright red flag in the apartment; waving rampantly in your peripheral as you pass through the living room. Good god, Felix hasn't even noticed those yet. The thought has you losing focus, fingers mindlessly shuffling through the vast collection of vases in the hall closet.

The crumpled petals in their muted pinks and creams stare back at the man as he leans against the kitchen island, chin resting in the palm of his hand with narrowed eyes. Felix would've expected these to be long gone by now. The peonies that had once been so vibrant and alive are nothing more than dried stems and petals in a ceramic vase. To him, they look less-than-lively in their current state. The sound of socked feet padding back into the living room shifts his attention. He doesn't even notice the other displays behind you, too focused on your presence alone.

"I'm no florist, Love, but these look like they're past their prime." There's a hint of a smile on his lips when he finishes his quip, and you can't help but chuckle. Twitchy fingers reach for the junk drawer handle, pulling it open with a lazy arm.

"I know they're not as beautiful as when you first gave them to me," You say, grabbing the set of pruners and scissors that rest among snack clips, rubber bands and the like, "but trust me when I say that they're still pretty."

"They look dead." He deadpans, padding around the island in few strides. He watches you work intently, leaning against the countertop as you cut the wrapping away and cut back the stems. The tap runs in the sink, cooler for the delicate blooms in your hands.

"They're not-" You start, filling the chosen vase a quarter of the way and mixing the food packet in. Your cheeks feel warm from the comment and you dip your head as you work. "Well, I guess they are technically dead..."

You hear the chuff of a laugh from your boyfriend and glance over your shoulder, quickly looking forward again when you find citrine eyes already on you. The grin on Felix's face is soft and yet you feel your face heat up even more. If he's teasing me about the peonies, what's he gonna say about the others?

"I dried them, so to me, they're just... frozen in time." You say, pruning the few leaves from the lower stems.

"You dried them?" He sounds surprised. You nod, placing the flowers into their yellow porcelain vase, fiddling with the placement of each blossom more than you should.

It's now, when you're preoccupied, that Felix's eyes rove over the island to the living room and his eyes widen. The Gladiolus bouquet from almost two weeks ago sits on the coffee table as a centerpiece, still alive by some miracle. Even more surprising, the Hydrangeas from a week and a half ago sit in a glass jar on the console table behind your sofa. The water in the makeshift vase is just about gone, settled in the base of the jar touching just the tips of the clipped stems.

"Baby, how are these still alive?" He asks, walking around the island towards the displays in the living area. Your attention shifts, following his movements as he stands there baffled by the still pristine blooms on the coffee table. Felix turns his head to you, your fingers laced in front of you as you move away from the Dahlias in their yellow porcelain vase.

"Felix, I have to tell you something."

Dark brows knit at your tone, voice mumbling and awkward as you tap your index nail onto your opposite ones.

"What, Love?"

"It's just- ah-" You let out a tense exhale, your heart beat picking up in your chest. "It's a little embarrassing to say, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but the flowers have gotten a bit out of hand... and..."

You pause in your ramblings, glancing up to your boyfriend who is still fascinated by the week old flowers. He picks up the jar of Hydrangeas with a careful hand, eyeing the petals that have begun their wilting and drying process. Observing. Analyzing. For a moment you believe he's so focused on them that your words have gone unheard, but he shifts his gaze to yours with arched brows and narrowed browns.

"How'd you manage to keep these fresh so long? The florist's site said they'd last a little under a week if you were lucky."

You tilt your head toward the ceiling, pressing your lips together as you scratch at the nape of your neck.

"I may or may not have some background in floristry..." You trail, voice going higher as you speak. Your fingers clench over your thumb as your eyes flicker about the living space, avoiding eye contact. "It's part of why I'm telling you. I love the flowers, Felix, I really do. But, it's just becoming a bit much."

"Love," Felix sets the flowers down with a sigh, and you keep your eyes on the far wall out of shame. He's mad, disappointed... he's something! And it's not a good someth-

You startle at the feeling of warm hands cupping your cheeks and your wide eyes dart forward to meet his. He takes in your expression, noticing the nervous shifting and fidgeting. Felix offers you his full attention - a warm smile and warm eyes, those familiar crescents.

"Why are you so nerved up? There's nothing to be ashamed of, you know I support you in everything." He leans forward and in an instant you feel him press a kiss to your forehead. Your chest lightens at the gesture.

"So you're not mad?"

"Never! Though I wish you would've told me that you were knowledgeable in fresh cut flowers. I only sent you new ones after the flower I took from each bouquet wilted on me."

His confession makes you laugh, your eyes closing as you shake your head.

"I was wondering why one was missing from every delivery. I thought someone was shortchanging you!"

"No, I wanted you to have something to brighten up the place when I'm gone. I guess I didn't consider the idea of you knowing anything on flowers..." He trails, chuckling to himself. His hands leave your face, taking their familiar place wrapped around your waist as he pulls you into him. Felix's chin rests atop your head, and you bring your own arms around his torso, nails scratching lightly against his shoulder blades. You press your face into his chest.

"So, where'd you learn all your magical floristry skills from?" He asks, glancing around the place for any other old bouquets he'd gifted you.

"My grandfather." You murmur, tilting your head up to catch his eye. Your arms tighten around him. "He was always out in the garden, spent most of his lifetime caring for his flowers out there, I'm pretty sure. Everything he'd taught me was through his own trial and error."

"Well, sure seems like you've perfected some of his teachings." Felix muses, grinning down at you. A scoff leaves you and you wave away his high praises.

"It's nothing, really. I just enjoy the process." You feel your cheeks heating up again, so you press your face back into the fabric of his hoodie.

"It's nothing?" Felix's arms tighten around your waist, lifting you easily and sitting himself down on the couch so you're draped over his lap. You settle your face in the crook of his neck, feeling him huff out a content sigh as he relaxes into the cushions. "You are so humble... but you have to admit, you're a natural at this. Maybe we should open up a flower shop together, hm? I'll take the orders, you just do your thing with this beautiful mind of yours." He nuzzles his chin into the side of your head with a chuckle, fingers cascading over the skin of your hip.

"You gonna take orders on tour, too?" You tease, fighting back a grin.

"You betcha! Your talent can be shipped worldwide." He glances down to gauge your reaction, the corners of his lips curled up in a smug amusement. Though there's that genuine affection seeping through as well. The kind that makes your heart flutter. You roll your eyes, but your hostility is lost with the curl to your lips. You press a soft kiss to Felix's neck, his expression shifting as he rests his head against the back of the couch.

"You really think I could open a flower shop?"

"You could be anything you wanna be, Love." He says, shifting so that you're facing each other. He draws you closer, hands moving to the curve of your shoulders. You can feel his heart beating against your own, missing that skin-to-skin contact that he's been craving for the past few months on tour. The living room settles into contentedness for a moment; just fingers brushing skin and shallow breaths as you both keep your eyes on one another.

"I love you," Felix whispers, lips brushing against yours once, twice, until they fully connect in a sweet kiss.

"And I love you," You mumble, smiling against him. "but I'll happily take your brownies every week for the next year."

"No more flowers, then?" You scrunch your nose at his question, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from laughing at the ridiculousness of your situation.

"You are the biggest rom-com protagonist I've ever laid my eyes on."

Felix's eyes light up with a playful spark as he tilts his head to the side, a deep chuckle rumbling his chest.

"What can I say, I try." He's oh, so humble about it; eyebrows arching in a cocky manner, a lopsided grin on his lips. He presses another kiss to your lips, slow and lingering as his hands slip to your lower back. You can't help but smile against his mouth, bringing a hand up to tangle in the dark tresses of hair. He hums before pulling back, suddenly remembering something.

"Speaking of being the best boyfriend alive-"

"Your words, but sure-"

"-I brought some takeout and a few other gifts from overseas... but you said you wanted brownies soooo..." He looks off elsewhere, and you roll your eyes.

"Babe!"

Felix laughs, the sound a gentle melody to your ears. Your eyes meet again and he shoots you a loving smile, nodding toward the bag sitting on the counter.

"They're yours, Love." He murmurs, fingers tapping the side of your leg to usher you off the couch.

"C'mon. The quicker we eat, the quicker I get to cuddle you to sleep."

Psst!! If you made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read my work 💕 I appreciate you!

🌸Mumu's Blog🌸

Masterlist Personal Blog Stuff I reblog Mooties

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

K-POP INFO: Group- - Stray Kids - Txt - Enha - P1harmony - Eric Nam - Got7 - Exo - Ateez - (G)-idle - Twice - New Jeans - Everglow - Itzy - Nmixx - VCHA - Dreamcatcher - IVE - B1A4 - The Rose - Infinite - Jessi - Jamie - AleXa - Seventeen - Blackpink - BTS - NCT

Ult Bias- - Felix of skz - Mingi of atz - The8 of svt - Chaeyoung of Twice - Hanni of New Jeans - Suga of BTS - Minnie of (G)-Idle - Lexi of VCHA

MUMU'S BLOG INFO: I write mostly skz fanfics. I don't rly write for other groups, but if requested, I can. I mainly write angst and some fluff here and there. I don’t rly post much(I’m a lazy writer) so don’t expect me to update very often lol. All my works are purely fiction and I am in no way applying this to the idols in real life.

Anon list: 🥭, 🧈, 🫗

end note: Now with all that being said, sorry that this is hella long😭