#minho drabbles

[strayingawayy]

the great kitten swap...

where minho's little girl's beloved kitty gets lost, and he can't see his baby girl upset now, can he?

the living room was alive with the sound of tiny, gleeful giggles as sora darted around the couch, her three-year-old legs moving as fast as they could. her cheeks were flushed pink, and her tangled hair bounced with each step. in her sights was her constant companion, a mischievous kitten named nari, who dashed out of reach like it was all part of the game.

minho leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee, his lips quirking into a smile. beside him, you were flipping through a book, though your attention kept drifting to the scene in front of you.

“she’s going to tire herself out chasing that poor kitten,” you murmured with a chuckle, nudging minho.

he hummed in agreement, though his grin widened. “nari seems to enjoy the attention. they’re like two peas in a pod.”

but that peaceful, happy moment was short-lived.

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

it started the next morning. sora wandered into the kitchen, clutching her leebit plushie , her eyes wide and worried.

“papa,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “where’s nari?”

minho stiffened, his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. your gaze snapped to him, a silent exchange passing between the two of you. he cleared his throat, crouching down to sora’s level.

“maybe nari’s playing hide-and-seek,” he offered, his tone far too casual.

sora frowned, her lower lip wobbling. “but she always wins.”

you sighed, crouching beside them and rubbing sora’s back soothingly. “don’t worry, sweetheart. we’ll find her. she probably found a really good hiding spot this time.”

but as the day stretched on and there was still no sign of nari, panic began to set in.

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

for a week, minho scoured the neighborhood, asking neighbors and checking every nook and cranny in and around the house. you called shelters, posted online, and even stuck up flyers. but nari was nowhere to be found.

sora, meanwhile, grew quieter by the day, her usual sunny demeanor dulled by the absence of her best friend. it broke your heart.

one evening, as the two of you sat on the couch brainstorming what to do, minho suddenly snapped his fingers. “i have an idea.”

you raised an eyebrow. “should i be worried?”

he smirked. “when are you not?”

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

the next afternoon, minho arrived home with a small carrier in hand. when he opened it, out stepped a kitten—a near-identical twin of nari. you stared at him, equal parts impressed and incredulous.

“minho, is this…?”

“nari 2.0,” he said with a sheepish grin. “sora’s too little to notice the difference, right?”

you sighed, shaking your head. “this is either going to work perfectly or blow up in our faces.”

but to both your surprise and relief, sora squealed with delight the moment she saw “nari” again.

“she’s so shiny now!” she exclaimed, scooping up the kitten and spinning in a circle.

minho shot you a triumphant look. you just rolled your eyes and smiled.

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

two weeks passed, and things were going smoothly. sora was back to her bubbly self, and the imposter kitten seemed perfectly content in its new role. but then, on an otherwise uneventful tuesday afternoon, you heard a familiar meow from the front door.

minho froze mid-step, his eyes snapping toward the sound.

“oh no,” he muttered.

the real nari was back.

she strutted into the house like she owned the place, her tail flicking with the confidence of a queen reclaiming her throne. sora, who was playing in the living room, looked up and gasped, her eyes darting between the two cats.

“papa,” she said slowly, pointing at the original nari. “who’s that?”

you and minho exchanged panicked glances.

“that’s…” minho began, his mind clearly scrambling for an answer. “that’s nari’s…secret cousin. yeah, her cousin.”

“her cousin?” sora asked, her head tilting in confusion.

“yup,” you chimed in, forcing a bright smile. “her name is…miso.”

sora blinked, her gaze shifting between the two cats again. finally, she nodded. “okay. hi, miso!”

both of you exhaled in relief. crisis averted—at least for now.

⠀ ‎ ♡^᪲᪲᪲...

for the next few weeks, the house became a circus of sorts, with the two cats adjusting to their shared life and sora happily doting on both of them. the original nari didn’t seem to mind the imposter, and miso quickly learned to share the attention.

one evening, as you tucked sora into bed, she looked up at you with a sly smile.

“umm...papa?” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of mischief. “i know miso is nari.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you glanced at minho, who looked just as stunned.

“you do?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

sora nodded, her smile widening. “but it’s okay. i like having two naris.”

minho chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “you’re too smart for us, you know that?”

she giggled, curling under her blanket. “goodnight. i love you.”

as you turned off the light, you exchanged a look with minho, both of you grinning. your family might have been a little unconventional, and chaotic. but it was absolutely perfect.

inspired by this and requested by @wandamaxoff

[tasteleeknow]

MINORS DNI. sucking on his fingers. minho's pov.

Sweet. That's how he'd describe you. His sweet girl. Even as you kneel on the floor with his fingers in your hot little mouth. Even as your eyes water from taking them a little too deep. Even as your lips glisten with spit.

He settles a little more into the couch cushions as you look up at him from your position between his knees. It's easier to spread a little more like this, adjust himself as his cock throbs in his sweats.

Then your fingers wrap around his wrist lightly, a comforting hold more than anything else. He was the one in control, pressing his fingers between your lips almost rhythmically as he prepares you to take him properly. He finds himself in a trance at a few points, fixated on the little facial expressions you make — on the way your eyes close and your nose scrunches when you're a little too eager.

And then there's your mouth. Warm, plush lips and hot little tongue getting his fingers all messy. It's the messiness he likes. His sweet girl all messy just for him.

A small sound slips from your throat, the kind of sound that makes him want to fall forward and press you into the floor. Fuck you into it. It's so fucking sweet.

"Alright?"

You blink at him, lashes fluttering. Then you nod, moist lips still wrapped around his fingers — unwilling to give them up.

Time slows in moments like these. He knows it's a memory forming; it's something he'll think about on night's you're gone, in lonely showers with the same fingers wrapped around his leaking cock.

He'll think about this. He'll remember how warm you are, how fucking warm and wet and sweet. He'll remember the little whines and whimpers as you wordlessly reassure him you love this almost as much as he does.

Then your bottom lip relaxes and your mouth is dropping open, tongue lolling out a little — the tips of his fingers resting on your slippery tongue.

"Fuck," he breathes, dragging his fingers down slowly over your bottom lip in awe.

Then he's hooking his finger under your chin and lifting your head a little more, forcing your mouth closed. You look at him in a way that stirs something heavy in his chest, like you're simply waiting for what he will do next. Trust. Love. He can't pinpoint it exactly, but it has him pressing the palm of his hand into his crotch — desperate not to spill into his pants.

It's a mistake. The moment he draws back from you — dropping his head back against the couch — you're crawling up onto his lap. He grips your hips before your get too close; before you put any pressure on his twitching cock.

"Wait," he gasps, eyes clenched tight.

You listen. Of course you do. His sweet fucking girl. He presses his wet fingers into your bare skin as he catches his breath, blindly finding the precious little sliver between your top and your underwear.

"Okay," he says eventually, blinking his eyes open as you fall over him — warm lips pressing to his neck before he can even lift his head. He savours it for a moment, the feeling of your body pressing him into the soft cushions — the wetness your lips leave on his skin.

Then he tangles his fingers in your hair and guides you away from his neck gently. He can see the mess you've made much better this close. Your lips are swollen, almost puffy. He's fucking incapable of preventing his mind from spiralling directly to how puffy your cunt looks when he's spent enough time with your legs around his head.

"You're so good," he murmurers before he's even aware of the thought crossing his mind. It's an involuntary slip of the tongue, his subconscious breaking free while he's distracted.

But then your head drops. Shy.

He tugs you forward, lifting your head and mashing his lips to yours. He's not good at words. Not when he's feeling this much. Never in the moments that fucking matter. He'd spent too long wishing it was different. Now he knows the best he can do to compensate is this: he shows you.

[niki-phoria]

결국에 닿을 너란 destiny / i promise you

pairing: lee minho x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 514

notes: little late but happy yoongi day <33 rewatched a skz code ep and can't stop thinking about minho so here we are, based on this clip and this pic, minho pls don't ever cut your hair i beg, not proofread !! pls forgive any mistakes, title from skz - phobia

“your hair is getting so long,” you say, reaching over to hand LEE MINHO a water bottle. he’s panting slightly, still catching his breath after hours of working to polish the final few aspects of the new choreography. 

minho hums softly in response. he takes the bottle with a grateful smile, murmuring a soft “thanks” before he downs the water inside. he reaches up, brushing his bangs aside when he runs his hand through his hair. his bangs frame his face when they fall back into place. “i should trim it soon. it’s blocking my eyes.”

“don’t.” you reach up, twisting a strand between your fingers. his hair feels soft against your fingers. minho’s eyes flutter shut; a quiet sigh threatens to escape his just barely parted lips. you can just barely see the faint pink tint that lingers on his mouth.

you smile softly, taking the opportunity to continue playing with his hair. your fingers weave through the strands with ease, pushing minho’s hair behind his ears before pulling a few strands loose. he’s watching you now; the corners of his mouth twist into the softest grin. beneath the harsh lights covering the ceiling of the practice room you can just barely see how the tips of his ears are tinted a shade of light pink. “i like it like this.”

minho smiles brightly. your hands fall away from his hair, now resting against his shoulders. his shoes scuff against the polished floors as he takes a step closer to you. “i’m glad you do.”

you can’t help the way your own smile grows when minho leans in. he reaches up, gingerly cupping your face in his hands. his thumb brushes against the edge of your cheekbone, running along the apples of your cheek. 

minho holds you softly - tenderly. as if you’re a precious gem he’s afraid of breaking. his skin feels warm against yours, though his touch sends shivers down your spine. butterflies swarm throughout your stomach with an unrelenting pace. 

“i love you,” minho whispers. he leans in so close that it makes your breath hitch. his nose just barely brushes against your own. his breath ghosts against your lips. “so much.”

you curl your fingers into the fabric of his t-shirt, tugging him even closer. minho smirks ever so softly at your growing impatience. his own hands move to rest against your hips. his fingertips trail against the hem of your shirt, threatening to slip just beneath the fabric. 

a quiet gasp escapes him when you finally pull him in, pressing your lips against his. despite his surprise, minho reacts quickly. his hands relax against your waist. you fall into a steady rhythm - a dance you’ve unknowingly practiced many times before. 

minho is the first to pull away, pressing a chaste kiss against your cheek before you can complain. this time he raises a hand to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with a gentle smile. “i love you, too,” you say softly in response, earning a bright grin in return. 

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or reblogging !! and if you want to support me, check out my other works here <33

[skzinka]

“ AUTUMN ROMANCE ” ft. lee minho

timeline : may, 2022

summary : with tears in her eyes and a battered heart, inka seems once again to be drawn towards a dream far from reality.

word count : 1.6k

a/n : hi... it's been a while.......^_^

the rain fell heavily against the window of kalaya's bedroom, as she looked out with a blank, pensive, distant gaze. millions of thoughts floated through her head, like millions of different voices engaged in a million opposing conversations — she felt sick. a sigh left her lips as she snapped out of her trance, moving her hands slowly to furiously rub her eyes and temples, trying to calm her racing mind. “what's up with me lately,” she muttered to herself, her fingers lost in the black strands of her hair.

in fact, she knew very well why she felt so agitated — only one possible answer was the conclusion of all these disturbances, a single first name that rolled off her tongue so often. her feelings were abused, tossed back and forth, making her lose herself a little more each time. it was frustrating and tiring, because she felt as if she couldn't see the end of that situation that should have been resolved a long time ago.

but just as she was about to leave her room to take a deep breath of fresh air, she came face to face with the one person who haunted her thoughts day and night. “you're home early,” she muttered quietly, her eyes fled minho's instantly, as she sank back into the suffocating air of her room.

“what? do you want me to go back to the agency?” the boy chuckled teasingly, inviting himself into inka's bedroom by walking over to her bed and dropping onto it. she rolled her eyes, mechanically fiddling with a lock of her long hair before sitting down on the edge of her desk. “of course not, idiot,” she began, her voice slightly defensive before turning sulky, “i just didn't expect to run into you now.”

a soft laugh coming out of his mouth sent a shiver down inka's spine, as she tried so hard to hide the furious pounding of her heart. she was back in that state of mind where the slightest gesture, laugh or anything from minho melted her heart like marshmallow. the brunette looked away again, observing her own reflection in the bedroom mirror, feeling guilty at how pathetic she looked in this situation.

“what were you doing before i arrived?” he suddenly asked her, his eyes scanning every corner of inka's room : from the pile of books carelessly left on the floor beside her bed, to the many photos taped to her wall, to her half-open wardrobe, which seemed far tidier than that of the boys in the dorm. but when she finally spoke, his eyes fell on her silhouette, scrutinizing the way her lips moved as she spoke — though he couldn't hear the words rolling off her tongue, too busy remembering the taste of that mouth he'd already had the opportunity to savor.

god, he miss it.

kalaya noticed that he wasn't paying the slightest attention to what she was saying, even though minho's piercing gaze was perfectly focused on her. she slowed her saliva, flickering her eyes when they seemed to meet his, her heart missing an umpteenth beat.

“..i could be full of shit since you're not even listening to me.” she pouted, crossing her arms against her chest and turning her body slightly so he was now almost facing her back. the change in her position seemed to snap minho out of his trance. the guy blinked several times before clearing his throat as he tried to regain his composure. “sorry, i was distracted.” he apologized, his eyes finally leaving kalaya's face to stare at an invisible point in the void.

“distracted, uh?” she pointed out, not understanding how he could have been so suddenly distracted, “what could have distracted you so much in my room?”

she raised an eyebrow, turning her face towards him, and instantly regretted having asked him that question. it was almost too easy : she'd handed him a perch and he wasn't about to let it go to waste. she could see in his eyes that he knew exactly what to say to make her lose her temper and fall at his feet again, as she always did.

“you.” he answered without a moment's hesitation, his voice as confidently as possible. her breath caught in her throat, as she felt her cheeks burn suddenly, her hands become clammy in spite of herself — she didn't know what to say, the words blurring in her mind as if a huge tornado had taken possession of her. she was a mess. inka was content to watch him silently, scrutinizing his every move when minho rose from her bed to approach her slowly.

she felt minho's left hand slide over her hip, clinging around her as delicately as the summer breeze hugs her hips on the beach. a second after, the palm of his right hand settle on her cheek, and suddenly, she could look nowhere but into his deep brown eyes. he was so close that she could feel his hot breath landing on her face, her own breathing now neglected. “it's you who distracts me,” he murmured suddenly, in a voice so low it could have been an auditory hallucination — but he decided to continue expressing his thoughts, making ignorance suddenly impossible, “everything about you is so distracting.”

it felt like the palm of his hand was burning her skin, the pulsations of her troubled heart echoing in her head like hammer blows. but of course, she couldn't help pressing her cheek weakly against his hand, seeking the slightest source of warmth and the softness of his fingers on her. she was totally under the influence of her heart, her brain no longer responding to anything — nothing mattered when minho seemed so easily accessible.

“minho..” inka murmured softly, unable to pronounce anything other than his name, which sounded so sweet to her ears. the mere sight of her reacting prompted minho to continue on his course. pressing his hand against her cheek, he tilted the girl's head slightly to one side, using this as an opportunity to approach her, the tip of his nose grazing hers. “your eyes,” he first whispered, despite his gaze riveted on her lips as he spoke, “your voice, your body,” he added, while his hand clinging to her hip slowly moved to find itself completely wrapped around her.

tears were already beginning to prickle her eyes, overwhelmed by the happiness and destruction that engulfed her little by little every time he spoke another word. for her own sake, she should probably push him away, screaming at her to stop making her heart suffer every second — but all that seemed impossible. because minho seemed so real under her fingers, that it wasn't just another dream disturbing her nights. it was beyond her strength.

she didn't even have time to try and string three words together before he spoke again, in an even lower voice than before. “your lips..” a shiver instantly ran down the length of her spine, her hands clutching at minho' sweatshirt despite herself, being the only thing she could hold on to at that very moment. “i think about kissing you all the time,” he added, this time looking right into her eyes, as if trying to make her understand how sincere his words were despite the difficult situation that enveloped them both.

she suddenly found it hard to breathe, her eyes practically gorged with tears that threatened to roll down her rosy cheeks at any moment. she pursed her lips together, her fingers gripping the material of his sweatshirt so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “it's so complicated,” she murmured, “it's so hard, i can't.. my heart hurts so bad.” her words hung in the air for a moment, the young man's eyes gazing intently into hers, as if minho were drowning completely in her speech, absorbed by her emotions. “minho, you return like autumn and i fall every time..” her trembling voice breaking mid-sentence as her cold hands settled on the elder's cheeks.

kalaya seemed to be caught up in a torrent of emotions, her thoughts both negative and positive, making it impossible to think or make any rational decisions. her pupils seemed unstable, her gaze juggling from one eye to the other — she seemed so fragile, one gesture and she's gone to dust. minho had noticed everything : the boy knew every one of her reactions and facial expressions, he knew precisely that she was stuck in a torment of despair right now. so he decided to act on the spur of the moment, in a way that was no doubt flawed.

and he kissed her.

then suddenly, nothing. a black hole formed in her thoughts as minho's lips met hers unexpectedly. it was warm, soft, comforting, as delicious as the memories she'd tried to escape from deep inside her. she could no longer think — her body reacting on its own, closing her eyes and melting completely against his mouth. minho took this as a green light and kissed her more firmly, letting every sensation, every emotion shine through in this kiss he had held back so long. it was as if we were lifting a child's punishment, as if we were allowing him to do the same stupid thing again, but this time behind his parents' backs. obviously, he didn't sincerely think that kissing kalaya was a mistake — quite the contrary, but he knew he wouldn't be able to do it again because that the moment she came back to her senses, a wall would once again be erected between the two of them.

but for the moment, he preferred to concentrate on the sweet taste of her lips, the feel of her fingers on his skin, the delicious scent of her perfume tickling his nostrils. nothing else but her.

✧⠁taglist : @quaissants @writerblock-sucks @mynameisnotlaura @alyszaen @felixsbrat @alixnsuperstxr

[fantastic-bby]

Pairing: Reader x Minho

Word count: 1.3k

Genre: Angst | Brother's Best Friend type thing | Non-Idol AU | Breakup AU | Twin Brother!Felix

Plans don't go the way you hoped and you think it's better to be the asshole in the break up for his sake.

Masterlist

[6:40]

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Minho huffs upon hearing your rushed footsteps kicking through the smooth, fine, sand. 

He doesn’t make much effort to look away from the ocean even when you mutter an apology, gaze completely fixated to the movement of the waves crashing along and taking in the rhythm that it naturally creates. 

Shoes neatly placed beside him, Minho has his legs extended to let the cold water just wash onto his bare feet and calves. 

“Overslept,” you say and sit beside him, your own shoes tossed haphazardly beside you to mimic the zen-like position that Minho seems to have put himself in. “When I got downstairs, Felix freaked out and thought that I was a ghost, so he dropped his glass and we had to clean it up.”

“You’re brother’s strange,” Minho states plainly. 

“I know.” 

Once comfortable on the sand with the water splashing over your legs, you close your eyes and lean backwards with your hands holding you up. 

You’ve known Minho for a few years. He moved to Sydney while you were still in high school and quickly became acquainted with your twin brother after meeting for the first time in the school’s dance club. 

Not long after that, he became a regular at your house; spending weekends over playing video games or dragging you and Felix out to get McDonald’s because he was hungry. Most nights, though, Minho would try to drag only you out to watch the sunrise at the beach not that far away from the neighbourhood. 

The spot soon became somewhat of a date spot for the two of you. The first time he confessed to you was while you were watching the sunrise, when he asked you out, it was at the beach—the first time you gathered the courage to kiss Minho was with the waves crashing behind you like some romantic scene straight out of a drama. 

And even after Minho graduated high school and went into university, he still kept his promise of meeting you at the beach almost everyday. It was as if that specific spot on the shoreline was just your place; somewhere that only the two of you shared. 

To say that Felix was shocked—and mildly horrified—when he accidentally found the two of you in the middle of a date was an understatement. Your, typically, sweet and sunshine brother had almost gone berserk, calling Minho ‘half a rat’s ass because I’m going to find the rest of the rat and make you whole again’. 

Yeah… it didn’t entirely make sense… but the rage was oddly reassuring to you because at least you knew that he had your back. What wasn’t reassuring was the way Felix chased him around the parking lot of the mall for almost an hour, calling Minho all kinds of profanities for even thinking of touching his beloved ‘baby’ twin—because he was born a minute earlier. 

The moment’s quiet, serene, as the two of you bask in the comfort of each other’s presence. Your eyes are closed as you lean back on your arms and just take in the beach through every once of your senses; the cold water on legs, the fine sand on your skin, the smell of the beach, and the taste of salt that lingers in the air.

“I’m going back to Korea in three months.”

And your heart drops. 

But you can’t say you’re entirely surprised. 

“I thought you said you were coming to London with Felix and I,” you claim, turning to him. 

“Yeah, but…” Minho trails off, letting out a sigh. “We all knew I was still considering it. I need to go back, (Y/n). But that means that you’re coming with, right?” 

He turns to look at you, hopeful. You made a promise saying that wherever he goes, you’d go, too. That included in his decision of whether or not he would go to London or back to Seoul to finish his final year. 

But you realised your mistake in making that promise because if you followed Minho to Seoul for university, Felix would have to learn to figure out the challenges of university and a new country all on his own. You can’t find it in yourself to leave him alone in a place so unfamiliar despite knowing that he’s a tough cookie. 

Nothing can take down Lee Felix; the man with a heart of gold and a mentality basically built out of steel.

Minho knows that, which is why he wasn’t too surprised when you promised that you would come with him. 

“Right… (Y/n)?” 

 “I—” you cut yourself off and let out a loud sigh of frustration. “You can’t make me choose between you and my brother, Minho,” you say harshly. “I made that promise under the assumption that we would be going to the same place together—the three of us.”

Shock completely paints his features, eyebrows knitting together in disbelief and lips parted. This is the first time that you’ve ever spoken to him this harshly and even you know that.

“You can’t be fucking serious right now,” Minho mutters. “I’m not making you choose. You made the decision on your own—you promised.” 

“Yeah! So, I did!” you laugh bitterly. “I’m sorry. I was under the impression that we would’ve gone to London anyway.” 

“That’s not fucking fair. You knew that I was torn between going home and going to London. You can’t just pull this shit out of nowhere—do you know how insane you sound right now? You lied to me because you ‘assumed that we were all going to London’? Be fucking realistic, (Y/n),” he scoffs.  

“Oh, come on, Minho. Did you really expect that I’d follow you? Felix would be all alone in London! I can’t just leave him!”

“He’ll fucking survive, (Y/n)! He’s not a child—he’s a grown man for fuck’s sake!” 

“He’s still my brother!” 

“I—” Minho quickly cuts himself off and takes a deep breath, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as he sighs shakily. “You know what? I can’t have this conversation right now” he mutters while shaking his head and standing. He grabs his shoes from beside him and stands, “let’s talk about this later. When we’re calm.”

His effort in still trying to stay calm in order to not accidentally hurt you makes you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to desperately try and stop the tears from breaking through. But you take a deep breath to compose yourself and re-open your eyes. 

“We’re over,” you say, trying your best to stay as emotionless as possible, it’s for the best; you think. This way Minho would have a reason to not love you anymore. 

He’ll move on faster. 

The statement makes Minho halt in the middle of brushing sand off of his pants and he looks at you in disbelief, hurt completely painting his features. 

“Is that really how you want to end this? You’re just throwing away those years like it was nothing?” His voice has lowered to a whisper, as though the very thought of it is cursed to say aloud. When you don’t say anything or even turn to look at him, Minho’s voice becomes more pained, “we can talk about this—l-like we always have. Come on…” 

He doesn’t make any attempt to get closer, nor does he actually say anything else. All Minho does is stare; eyes boring into the back of your head as you maintain the appearance and stare at the horizon. 

“Okay,” he finally says, voice cracking. “If that’s what you want, then okay. Just… if you wanna talk about it in the morning, I’ll still be waiting.” 

The way Minho’s voice shakes, the strain in his words, right before his footsteps drag through the sand until they become more distant is enough to have you squeezing your eyes shut and letting the tears start to roll. 

And when the Sun starts to peak over the horizon, you can’t stop yourself from sobbing at what you’ve just done. 

[yangbbokari]

Philiphobia?

Pairing/AU/Trope: Lee Know x gn!reader, Strangers to friends to lovers, Non!Idol AU

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: just a bunch of mental issues, emotions, and insecurities

A.N: Just a little drabble bc I've been a bit more emotional lately☹️😓 and I need to make up for all the series I have not been getting out to y'all🤭

For as long as you could remember, you were scared. Of not would people would usually say, like spiders and snakes. In fact, those things intrigued you. What really made you terrified, was love. Your upbringing didn't help it either.

The love between your parents seemed so pure and loving. That's what you wanted. You wanted a love like your parents'. Your hopes and dreams were to be shattered though. Soon after your 11th birthday, all hell broke loose. Secrets were unvieled, revealing the lies and flaws between this so seemingly perfect relationship.

Your mother had been cheated on throughout her whole 20 year relationship with your father. Your father would try to manipulate your mother into thinking it was her fault. He was exetremely controlling and narcissistic. Also very hypocritical. Screaming and crying fits in the middle of the night left you restless. Mom would run away from home every chance she got until she eventually completely left your life after signing divorce papers. If not everyday, every week, your dad would remind you that you're the reason your mother left.

From there stemmed all your mental illnesses and psychiatric disorders. Attachment issues, abandoment issues, commitment issues, and trust issues. Depression and anxiety were at high. Difficulties with expressing your emotions.

At first, you didn't really notice it. To you, it was normal. Until you saw the way other people acted and it seemed different. Different than you at least.

You craved the love and the attention. But when offered it, you pushed it away and chose to turn from it. You wanted someone to take you into a long embrace yet, you would distance yourself. You wanted someone to tell you sweet words and praise you yet, they were like poison to your ears.

You wanted someone to love and to love you. It wasn't as easy as you thought though. Your feelings were not something you knew how to deal with.

Everytime you fell in love you'd confess without missing a beat. Only to be turned down. When you weren't turned down though, you didn't know how to show your love. You'd shy away. This only made you hurt the person more than loving them. So they'd leave.

Your fantasies were filled with friends to lovers tropes. They were never to be fulfilled though. Because you knew, those people that you fell for, would never like you back. So you held back your confessions. That wasn't easy either. You'd get attached quickly but too scared to commit to an actual relationship.

You wanted to be married with children in the future. But for you, you were so sure you'd end up alone. You didn't know how to deal with the feelings of love. You didn't want to. It was too hard to understand. And that only resulted in you distancing yourself from other people.

This made it harder for you to form a deep connection or bond.

That was until you met Minho. He was everything you dreamed of. He understood you in ways no one else could. It wasn't easily shown, but you knew. You knew of everything he'd do for you.

He was kind, caring and patient. Others knew him as cold and arrogant. But to you, he was almost an angel.

When you'd have your emotonal breakdowns, he'd stay by your side. He wouldn't hug you because he knew that was difficult for you to do. So he'd wait by your side and gently hum a song he knew that comforted you. He also knew, his presence was enough for you to calm down. He'd hold you by your shoulders and nod his head. He knew, it wasn't easy for you to tell him. Tell him of how you felt and what you were gong through. He'd let your shuddering breaths explain instead.

You met Minho during your first year of college. He was known as the ice prince. A very good-looking guy with a heart made of ice. That wasn't good news to you, so you stayed out of his path. It was a good startegy until one day, you accidentally ran into him at a store. You happened to be working as the cashier while he, a customer.

From then on, he'd attempt to get closer to you. But it wasn't as if he was being cocky and all over your space. He'd just show up and bring a gift with him. Eventually he found our socials and dm'd you. Your friendship quickly jumpstarted. Before you knew it, you were in love. But, of course you wouldn't tell him. So he told you instead. Like previously stated, he wouldn't say things outright. That being said, he slid a note into your pocket while hanging out.

When you found it after you got home, you were more than thrilled. That was the beginning of your relationship and two achievements fullfilled.

☑️Friends to lovers~ ☑️Love

Over the course of your relationship, Minho would help you cope. As you did for him. He had always paid close atention to your likes, dislikes, habits, and feelings. That made your bond grow stronger everyday. More things were checked off.

☑️Attention ☑️Deep connection or bond

Whenever you'd make a mistake he'd tell you that it was just a learning experience and you could do better next time. Whenever you did amazing, he'd tell you how proud he was. Everytime you'd do something specal for him, he'd remind you how thankful and lucky he is to have you. Everyday he'd leave notes all over the house just to tell you how much he loves you.

☑️sweet words and praise

Now there was only one thing left, marriage. You were already happy enough. In fact, you wouldn't be upset if Minho never chose to marry you. But Minho did that for you too.

On university graduation day, Minho knelt on one knee and proposed to you. That day was the happiest time of your life. Of course you agreed. How could you not? The kiss the two of you shared was passionate but soft. Everything was falling into place perfectly. A year and a half later, the wedding was held.

You walked down the isle together, grinning from ear to ear. Vows were made and rings were exchanged. Minho was just as stunning as always. There was nothing more you could ever ask for.

☑️marriage

By now, it's your 3 year anniversary and he took you to a cat cafe. How cliche of him. Having 3 cats at home already clearly didn't suffice. But Sooni, Doongi, and Dori didn't mind.

☑️Children

All that you've dreamed of since you were a child came true and it was all thanks to one person in particular, Lee Minho. He is your beacon of light in a dark tunnel. He is your only shelter in a raging storm. He's your big shady tree on a hot summer day. He's the wings that have carried you this far after you've fallen down. He's the one you love.

As you lay in bed, you turn to him and he turned to you. No words were spoken but it was clear what was being conveyed.

"I love you." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A.N again: hope you guys enjoyed pls leave comments or tell me if I need to make adjustments to my work since I'm still a rookie at this. But have a nice day/night everyone!!!😊🫶🏻💖💗❤️

[minhosimthings]

Vanilla Meat

Synopsis: In which your husband makes your weird pregnancy cravings.

Pairings: Husband!Minho × pregnant reader (fem duh)

Warnings: FLUFFY SHIT YEAH. Mention of throwing up, mention of food

A/N: One more drabble because I have writer's block rn. Absolutely cannot write another chapter. College is getting more work filled, so I'll try to update more often if I can! Oh btw, I took inspo from my cousin! She had really weird cravings when she was preggers and she told me some stories so this is based off of that!

Your mouth tasted so weird today. And you had no idea why. Oh wait you did have an idea. And that was the baby growing in your currently ravenous stomach. Being pregnant was harder than you thought (and your mom had told you) and now, at five and half months, your mouth started craving weird things. Thankfully you had a husband and said husband was a simp for you so he would basically make you anything you asked for, but not before giving you the biggest side eye ever.

"Kitten you ok?" Minho was leaning against your side as you bent over the toilet seat. Morning sickness had gotten worse since your fourth month even though your doctor assured you that morning sickness usually subsides by the fourth month. But then again, as I said, dear audience, you were a weird person. "Yeah I think I'm fine. I, uh, alright don't get mad but I didn't take my meds today." Minho sighed deeply at your words as he helped you get back on your feet. He knew you hated taking meds, pills especially since you didn't like the way they got stuck in your throat and you had to force it down although you enjoyed doing that with other things. Minho helped you get comfortably into bed and tucked the corners of your baby blue blanket in just like the way you like it. You smiled sweetly at him, silently appreciating your husband for doing so much for you. "Kitten please you've got to take those meds. I know you don't like them but I don't like avocado and you forced me to try them so now you're gonna have to pay me back." You pouted and furrowed your brows at his words. You tried to put on the best puppy eyes you could but you knew they wouldn't work on the sexy man standing in front off you, in a black turtleneck sweater with rolled up sleeves which made you kinda horny. Minho sighed again and cupped your face gently and said, in a tone unlike his normal one, "How about I make you something and then you take the meds?" Your eyes lit up at that as you did a tiny bounce and looked at Minho, like a child looking at the ice cream man. "Only if you take the meds though." Minho added sternly gently moving his hands to your aching legs. You thought for a moment before extending your hand out and shaking Minho's after which he placed a gentle kiss on your hand. "I'll make some japchae and order your favourite songpyeon ok?" "Actually baby?" Your voice stopped Minho as he made to get up. "Can you make me something weird?" Minho's face contorted into one of humour as he knelt down to your level and said, "Well of course your Highness. What delight would you like today?" You let out a tiny giggle and booped his nose. "I want meat." Minho was kind of taken back as he placed his hands softly on your belly and asked "That's it? Our baby is craving for dada's famous meat?" You tried to hide your mischievous smile and instead said in a playfully commanding voice, "Yes. Our baby is craving the best grilled meat in the kingdom. Oh and I would prefer if it was last night's meat please." Minho got up and kissed your forehead gently, but not before doing a tiny curtsey "Your wish is my command, Your Highness. Anything to go with the meat? Pudding perhaps?" "Can you also get me some of that vanilla ice cream Jisung left here last night?" Minho smiled and gently squeezed your hand before disappearing through the bedroom door.

He came back a few minutes (read : hours, since you were an inpatient and hungry pregnant woman) with a blue porcelain plate and your favourite pink bowl, which you expected was filled with ice cream. You pulled out your tiny bed table and settled it on the bedsheets as Minho put the delicious meat down along with the ice cream and to your disappointment, your packet of pills. You decided, however not to pull a face, and instead thanked your husband for bringing food to you. "Your welcome Jagiya. But you need to take the pills alright? Otherwise you can't see Doongie for a whole week." You let out a dramatic gasp at his words at his words and gave him a flying kiss, which he gratefully took. You took some of the slightly charred meat and picked up your ice cream spoon as Minho watched with curiosity, his cat like eyes wide open to form those cute star filled ones no one could resist. You then, to the horror of your husband, scooped some of the ice cream, put it on your piece of meat and then proceeded to put the entire thing in your mouth as Minho watched on very disgusted. He let out a very heavy sigh and said "Kitten, I know you're pregnant and I know all of your weird all cravings. And they've been normal usually like fish with mayo but kitten really? Vanilla ice cream with meat?" You looked Minho's cute frame and jut out your bottom lip to form a pout. "Just try It once Min. You'll like this I promise." Minho sighed again and said, "If I try it, because you've peaked my interest now, what will I get in return?" You thought for a moment and said "You can name our baby." Minho's eyes, now lit up with determination and excitement as he teased you, "Really kitten? Are you stooping that low for me to try your cravings?" You merely shrugged your shoulders and prepared another bite of the vanilla Meat for Minho as he took a deep breath and leaned forward, as if he was ready for combat. You gently pushed the meat into Minho's mouth and waited for his reaction, which, quite possibly, was the most adorable thing you have ever seen in your life. His closed eyes slowly opened and widened to form two big globes and mouth stayed closed. You couldn't decipher the expression on his face, but you knew it was the same expression he did whenever he ate pudding. "It's that good huh?" You questioned him. He was quick to shake his head. "That was the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten in my life, well except for Jisungie's cooking. Im gonna go wash up, while you eat the rest of your definetly not edible food." You threw him a sarcastic smile as he got up and went downstairs. You happily ate the rest of your food, with the nice thought in your head that Minho was definitely going to make this for you again. You didn't have the heart to tell him the next morning, that you heard him call Jisung in the dead of the night with the words, "Dude you gotta try meat with vanilla ice cream."

Epilogue

"Hon how are you eating that?" Minho was laying on his pillow, watching you eat Oreos with pieces of raw fish. You shrugged your shoulders and continued eating. "I mean it's what your twins are craving." "Alright then." You slightly smirked and turned your head towards Minho as he turned his head with the speed of lighting to face you. "WE'RE HAVING TWINS?"

[gfksn]

genre: fluff 

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none

author’s note: i’ve had this in my drafts well over a year now and personally, i think it’s about time that i posted something of substance on this blog. happy reading <3

you trudged toward the park; the only place (other than your cramped apartment) where you truly seemed to find solace after a long day’s work. with a drawn-out sigh, you dropped your bag and slumped onto the wooden bench, a dreadful weight being lifted off your shoulders. your eyes fluttered shut as you grew fond of every cool breeze that blew past. no feeling could come near to this. it was just you, the evening sun and-

“meow”

huh? you sat up, eyes trailing downward only to see an orange tabby with a confused expression much like your own. you cooed at the sight, lightly patting the empty space beside you in hopes of catching the small cat’s attention; and it did. the corners of your lips curled into a wide smile as the feline rubbed it’s head against your outstretched hand.

“what’re you doing here buddy?” you mumbled, gently scratching the cat’s chin and earning a soft purr in response. “just enjoying the evening, huh?” you stroked your thumb against the ginger fur, the feline’s eyes forming crescents at the affection. 

“i envy you.” 

“meow”

you laughed softly, finding your sudden confession to the stray ridiculous, but you had to admit, you felt strangely relieved.

you looked up at the evening sky before pulling the sleeve of your coat back to check your watch. it was getting late. you couldn’t believe that you’d just spent who know how’s long simply petting a stray cat. you slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder before turning to the small ginger, doe eyes staring right back at you. it broke your heart to leave. with a few gentle strokes to its head and a light tug to its ears, you bid the stray goodbye, promising to be back tomorrow.

-

minho eased himself down onto the park bench, a heavy sigh escaping him; feet finally being given a rest after such a long day. he shut his eyes as the autumn wind brushed past him. at last, peace and quiet. 

“meow”

-

"finally,” you muttered as the clock struck five, signaling your freedom for the rest of the evening. with hurried movements, you packed away your belongings and began booking it toward the exit. 

“y/n!” your shoulders immediately slumped at the sound of your supervisor’s voice.

“yes ma’am?” your tone was cheerful despite your bitter, tired expression.

“i need you to stay for an extra twenty minutes tomorrow to get some paperwork done.” she was, without a doubt, the bearer of bad news. as much as you hated the idea, it was your job after all. you swallowed your pride and with a simple “yes ma’am” you left for evening.

-

without thinking much of it, you found yourself in the park, sitting at the same bench awaiting the arrival of the small feline. you tapped your fingers against the wood, looking around for your much anticipated company.

“where are you?” you mumbled a small pout forming on your lips, “i could really use the company right about now.”

as if on cue, the orange tabby emerged from the bushes, meowing softly once you were in sight. you reached out, allowing the cat to touch your fingertips with its nose.

“almost thought i wouldn’t see you.” the cat hopped onto the bench beside you and rubbed its head against your side causing you to let out a light chuckle. oh, how you wished you could take the feline home with you, only, your work didn’t make it possible with its long hours and occasional overtime, which reminded you;

“i have to stay an extra twenty minutes at work tomorrow, so i’m not sure if you’ll see me.” you didn’t pay much attention to the fact that you were currently filling the stray in on your work schedule, but that didn’t make it any less unusual. nevertheless, you still shared your news with it. you had company after all.

you hummed as you scratched the cat’s chin. “i have to go now, hopefully i’ll get to see you tomorrow.” the cat only looked up at you and meowed in response. adorable

-

it was currently five o’ clock. any other day you’d be pretty happy about it, but not today.

“it’s only twenty minutes y/n, shouldn’t be too bad.” just as you said that, your supervisor dropped a stack of papers onto your desk.

great

-

you straightened your back and rolled your shoulders. your nose scrunched as a slight aching in your muscles was now present. “i really need a new job,” you muttered to yourself, “but at least all the paperwork’s done.”

you checked the clock, it’s been well over twenty minutes. if it weren’t for the few employees scattered here and there, the office might as well be empty. but that was none of your concern in that moment, all you wanted was to find yourself in the comforts of your apartment.

that was all you longed for, yet here you were, seated in the park, waiting for the orange tabby you’d grown quite fond of.

you glanced at your watch for the nth time that evening, as if that would make the stray arrive any faster. it’s not like he knew the time and was aware of when your shift would end. but that didn’t stop you from waiting. you waited and waited, but to no avail. soon enough, you decided to take on the task of finding the cat yourself.

after a few ‘pspsps’s and rustling through the park’s shrubs like a maniac, you finally found your orange tabby… seated on a park bench with someone else. admittedly, you felt a tinge of jealousy toward the man it was with. but you still you admired the way he interacted with the feline. the way he gazed at it with nothing but pure affection, a soft smile sitting prettily on his lips; his perfect lips. you slowly emerged from behind the shrub where you were hiding and approached the two.

“sorry to interrupt your moment,” you spoke, slightly startling the pair. “but, i was kind of looking for this little guy here.” you gestured toward the feline.

the man watched as the cat hopped off of his lap and sauntered toward you, rubbing its side along your leg. you laughed softly before bending down and petting it.

“is he your cat?” he asked and you could’ve sworn you heard his heart shatter the moment he did, sadness evident in his expression.

“no no no, i — ” you quickly replied, waving your hands in front of you. you watched the man’s shoulders relax as you spoke. you looked at him, then at the orange tabby. you sighed and made your way over to the bench. “may i?” you asked, gesturing toward the bench. the man nodded and you sat beside him.

“to be honest, this little guy has been keeping me company for the past few days.” you reached your hand out and called the tabby over to you, smiling softly as the feline touched your fingertips with its nose. “and he’s the sweetest thing ever,” you added, now looking over to the man beside you.

“i just wasn’t aware that he was seeing someone behind my back,” you joked. the stray ‘meowed’ in response before hopping onto the bench between you and the stranger. you both reached out to pet him, hands brushing against each other’s. you retracted your hand, letting them fall onto your lap. it was a mere accident but that didn’t stop your heartbeat from quickening.

“seems like life hasn’t exactly been the best for the both of us, huh?” you looked up at the man, watching his expression as he scratched the feline’s chin. he was breathtaking.

“yeah,” you muttered, eyes not leaving the stranger. he finally looked up at you, blinking slowly as the corner of his lips turned up into the faintest of smiles. you felt a chill run up your spine, you weren’t sure what caused it; the chilly autumn breeze or the way this man was looking at you. amidst your thoughts, which were currently filled with how charming this guy’s smile was, you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of thankfulness toward your supervisor. if you hadn’t stayed back, you probably would’ve never seen…

“what’s your name?” the man chuckled dryly, a bit taken aback by your abrupt question.

“minho.”

-

on rare occasions when your supervisor asked you for some extra time spent in the office, you can’t help but reminisce about the day you met minho. sure you see each other almost everyday — given that his work hours are longer than yours — but that doesn’t take away the giddy feeling you get whenever he’s around.

after what felt like ages, minho finally worked up the courage to ask you out. to which you obviously said yes. as for the stray, you both decided to take him in, only this time instead of being called ‘buddy’ or ‘guy’, he was now know as soonie.

you didn’t believe in fate, but there seemed to be no other explanation to you meeting soonie, which further led to you meeting minho. despite what you believed, you were sure of one thing. where the once stray cat roamed, following closely was your one true love.

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[jisungsdaydreamer]

district nine — l.mh

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

SYNOPSIS For the very first time in his life, eighteen year-old Minho is left to fight his demons alone, far from home and everything dear to him. New places, new people, new things to fear— it's an endless tightrope strung by the unknown. But what Minho does not know is that he will never walk it alone.

Pairing: Lee Know-centric story featuring the rest of skz. No pairings apply. Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, college au Warnings: themes of loss and grief, minor character death, fear of water/aquaphobia, post-traumatic stress disorder, mentions of underage drinking/alcohol Word Count: 4k

*Written for @k-labels debut event. My submission is for District 9 by Stray Kids.

“You’ll be okay, Minho.”

Minho tries to swallow the anxiety rising in his throat, fighting the urge to look up at his father one more time. The waves are calm today, rising and falling like the movement of his chest at night. However, the comfort of Minho’s bedroom is missing from the scene, replaced with the familiar fear that Minho always feels whenever he’s around bodies of water. 

“I’m scared, Dad.” Minho clings to his father’s sailing vest while staring down at the murky depths of the river. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Minho hears his father sigh in affection, more than frustration, before he bends down to match his height. He runs his hand through his son’s hair, tousling it like the balmy summer breeze overhead. 

“As long as I’m here, I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” Minho’s father kisses his soft head before standing up once more and getting back to work. “See? You’re all safe.”

Minho nods unconvincingly, trying not to squish the soft grilled cheese sandwich in his hands. He really wishes he brought his stress ball with him. “Okay.”

“Cheer up, Minho! Your grandpa used to bring me here all the time, when I was your age,” Minho’s father calls out from where he’s busy reeling in a long line of thick rope and cramming it into a little metal box for safe-keeping.

“Hmph.”

It’s the perfect weather to be outside on the river, which is frequented by many others in their small town on idyllic days like these. Minho, however, would rather be back home, either assisting his mother in the kitchen or playing with his cats. But his father insisted on taking him on a boating trip, and he couldn’t refuse, not when he barely saw his father these days. He knows his father is facing an immense amount of pressure at work, and that this would help him relax. Still, he can’t help the feeling of foreboding twisting and turning in his stomach.

Minho decides to abandon the sandwich after all, nauseated by both fear and the way the boat consistently rocks against the current. He looks out at the water once more, glaring down at the river like he can subdue it with a withering gaze. As if his expression has summoned something, a little fish pops up into his vision, its brightly-colored scales flashing right beneath the surface.

Intrigued, Minho breaks off a small part of sandwich crust and throws it out into the water. The fish cautiously approaches the particle of bread, before eating it. Now momentarily distracted by the way the fish looks up at him, as if pleading for more, Minho tosses out a couple more crumbs, but this time, closer. The fish swims towards him like Minho wants it to, its little fins wagging happily as it eats.

Minho laughs for the first time today, prompting his father to look over his shoulder. “Having fun, Minho?”

“Maybe.”

“Good. But be careful— don’t go to close to the edge. The river is unpredictable.”

Minho sighs. Grown-ups. “I know that, Dad.”

By now, multiple fish have surfaced, eager for scraps like their lucky friend, and Minho indulges them, sharing his midday snack with all hungry for it. After a few minutes, his sandwich is finally gone, and the fish just gaze up at him. He shakes his head at them sadly. “I don’t have anymore left, guys.” 

Not wanting to see them go, however, Minho very tentatively stretches out his hand to the water, wondering if the fish would come to him. They don’t dare to come near, but Minho takes it as a sign to try even harder; the fish were just so pretty. Maybe if he caught one, he could put it in a jar and beg his parents to let him keep it as a pet. He’d name it Lino, so they both have rhyming names. Obviously, he can’t introduce Lino to his cats, but still, Lino would be his friend, a better one to replace the mean people who made fun of him at school. Lino would be Minho’s, and he’d be Lino’s.

Minho leans over the edge, all of his previous apprehension forgotten as his fingertips skim the cool water. The fish splash in the water, trying to escape Minho’s grasp, flicking little droplets of water onto the bare skin of his arms. Maybe this really isn’t that bad, Minho thinks, smiling to himself.

One of the fish darts in the water near Minho’s hand, making him giggle in amusement. His entire upper body is hanging off the edge now, only his feet anchoring him to the belly of the boat. “Just a little closer…” 

Just as Minho’s little hand is about to close around the fish, the boat suddenly lurches, and he ends up clasping a handful of river water instead of his target. Minho tries to pull himself back to stand so he can complain about his loss properly, before he loses his balance. The next thing he knows, he’s being catapulted over the side of the boat and falling headfirst into the river with a frightened shout. 

The first thing he feels after his body painfully careens through the water is how shockingly cold the water is, enveloping him like a frigid, suffocating blanket. The currents that lie below the surface finally manifest, showing their true colors as they swirl his body around like a rag doll. Minho remembers reading about such a phenomenon in some nature article, that sometimes, even though a small body of water may look peaceful, the sinister truth is hidden right under.

Minho gasps for air in the frothing rapids, fighting to keep his face from lolling to the side and trying to make his waterlogged body move, but to no avail. He was always too scared of the water to learn how to swim, even at their neighborhood swimming pool. Amongst other irrelevant reasons, it’s why he always gets bullied at school, why the other kids always make a big show of flashing their invitations to pool parties to him. He was never invited, and he never cared either, beyond that twinge of sadness in his chest. But now, all he can hear is the raucous roaring of the river around him, and for a moment, perhaps someone yelling his name from up above. But that sensation is soon lost, as Minho begins to submit to the strength of the water.

Before he finally succumbs, however, he feels a different kind of pressure on his body, strong arms circling his legs and propelling him upwards. Minho thrusts his own flailing limbs forward, trying to drag himself to the surface. The struggle barely works, as Minho’s hands finally locate the side of the boat, grabbing at the material and trying to find the side railing. Minho’s savior clutches at his ankles from down below, giving him a final push up and into safety.

As soon as Minho’s hips hit the bottom of the little boat, he ignores the pain in his side from the hard impact, scrambling to the edge of the boat once more. This time, he holds the railing like it’s his lifeline— which it very well may be. 

“Dad!” His eyes frantically search the water for any signs of his father, for the man who saved his life, but the action is to no avail. “DAD?!”

His efforts are fruitless, because the water doesn’t stir, calm once more and faithfully concealing the monstrosity hiding in it. The swallows chirp from nearby riverbanks, and the sun shines down on the river. Everything seems as it was before, except this time, the piercing, guttural cry of both Minho’s realization and grief cuts through the air. No, nothing is the same, and it never will be.

10 years later.

Minho wipes the sweat off of his brow as he stacks the storage containers on top of each other; the lack of air conditioning in the room is truly a menace to his efforts. Fortunately, the work is almost over, his bed already neatly made and clothes pressed and folded in the little wardrobe assigned to him. 

“You should really take some rest, Minho.” Minho’s mother looks over at him, placing the back of her hand on Minho’s heated forehead. “You’ll tire yourself out.”

“It’s okay, Mom.” Minho turns away from her, trying to mask his trepidations with indifference. He takes some of the extra hangers strewn about and hangs up them, before shutting the closet door and glancing around the room, satisfied. Everything is in order, just how he always needs it to be.

“Sweetheart, you can talk to me,” she sighs, wrapping her arms around his stiff shoulders, leading him to his bed and sitting him down. Minho stares straight ahead, avoiding her gaze. If she looked into his eyes, she’d see straight through his facade, more than she already has. “I know it’s hard.”

“I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

But she does, she always does worry for him, and Minho knows that. He hasn’t ever been away for home for more than a few hours at a time; this is the first time he’ll be far from home, and permanently, too. 

“I love you so much. You know that, right?” She whispers, hugging him tightly.

He’s long overdue for a haircut, but he didn’t bother getting one. With the shaggy locks falling into his deep brown eyes, along with how his features have finely sharpened over the years, he looks more and more like his father. His mother always says how his father would have been so proud of him.

Minho sighs, patting his Mother’s back gently. “I know, Mom. I know.”

The sound of the dormitory room door opening with a bang makes them both jerk in shock, and they both look over at the entrance. A boy enters, a tangled string of headphones looped around his neck as he drags in a suitcase behind himself. His slender frame is tucked into a plain, baggy t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans, and wears a baseball cap backwards, loose tufts of inky hair peaking out from under.

He pays Minho and his mother no mind as they silently watch him from Minho’s side of the room. The boy doesn’t bother with unpacking his suitcase, just wordlessly dumping its contents into a pile on the mattress before flopping onto his stomach, next to it. He scrolls through his phone for a few moments, before seemingly noticing the other occupants for the very first time. He gives them a small glance over his shoulder, before flicking his eyes back to his phone screen.

“Jisung,” he mutters, barely making an effort to be heard.

Minho blinks, before his mother gives him an encouraging nod to introduce himself as well. “I’m Minho. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Cool.”

Jisung doesn't say anything else, opting to fall silent once more in favor of whatever is so much more entertaining on his phone. Minho looks back at his mother, perplexed, who mirrors the emotion. Obviously, this Jisung isn’t interested in conversation, or much of a relationship with his roommate. Minho’s mother shakes her head, smoothing out a wrinkle in Minho’s jacket. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright? I can stay a little longer if you want me to.”

“You should go now, Mom. The welcome orientation is starting soon.” Minho tilts his cheek, accepting the kiss his mother places there. She’ll be gone eventually, and it’s better sooner than later, so he can prepare himself.

He walks his mother out of the building, where their second hand minivan is parked. And as soon as they both arrived, his mother is gone, and so is the comfort of her love, her presence. Minho just stands there, rooted to the spot on the sidewalk, watching his mother drive away until the vehicle turns a corner and disappears from his vision.

Adopting his customary blank expression, he makes his way back to the room, passing giddy students and their teary yet proud families. He steps inside and finds Jisung already passed out on his bare mattress, phone lying haphazardly on his chest.

Minho’s turns to sit back down at his desk and read a book for a little, maybe, when he feels something crunch under his shoe. He looks down to see an empty potato chips packet; obviously Jisung’s, and it must have been blown over from the other side because of the gusts of air coming in through the window. Minho glances at Jisung’s slumbering form for a moment, as if waiting for the boy to wake and clean up his mess. But he doesn’t, so with an exhausted grunt, Minho picks up the packet and disposes of it in his trash can, along with his hopes of making any friends here.

Minho weaves through the throngs of partygoers, trying not to pass out. The deafening beat of the bass reverberates throughout the vast room, prolonging the aching headache he’s had since yesterday afternoon. The first week of classes just finished; the workload was heavy, but Minho enjoyed his books more than people, anyway, so that didn’t prove much of a hardship. 

As for friends, he hadn’t made any. He’d intentionally put up a cold aura so that no one would come near him; he didn’t have the patience to brush anyone off. It’s why he can’t complain too much about Jisung— the guy just left him alone and let him do whatever he needed. Minho’s one grievance about him, however, would be how messy he is. Minho’s side of the room is always kept tidy, while at any time in the day, it looks like a tornado ripped through Jisung’s. 

It’s why Minho used the party as an opportunity to escape the dorm, to get away from the filth that he would have to share with Jisung. Even though he knew it would be a bad idea to come out to the back-to-school bash for freshmen that one of the fraternities was throwing, he came anyway. But he should have known better than to try and fit in with all of the other perfectly normal eighteen year-olds here. He’s never been a party person anyway, so here he is now, floating around like a loser while trying to find the nearest exit from the frat house’s outdoor patio.

But his progress is cut off when a heavily drunk frat boy crashes into Minho’s side, shoving him towards the pool that Minho unfortunately failed to notice the dizzying proximity of. Head whipped to the side, Minho stumbles, getting an eyeful of the turquoise, lighted waters of the pool, and moments later, he’s shoved in, an awful case of deja vu written just for him.

It feels like the whole world comes to a standstill when his body smashes into the water. Someone turns off the music, and people gather around to watch everything unfold like a movie. No one makes a move to help him, just letting out intoxicated chuckles at the scene like it’s something truly comical, nothing serious. And it shouldn’t be, barely a few feet of water deep. But Minho still doesn’t know how to swim, and so he thrashes mindlessly in the water, mind frozen over with panic.

Minho tries to scream for help, but it comes out garbled, with all of the chlorine forcing its way into his mouth and keeping him from forming coherent words. The memories of that terrible day come rushing back to Minho. Him, splayed out, afraid and all alone. Him staring out at the water, praying for his father to come back. The rescue boat coming to take him back, wrapping his small, shivering form in a thick towel. His father’s lifeless body being extracted from the river by the patrols, Minho’s mother crying in his ear. 

He’d been saved that day, but nobody was coming for him now. Good, Minho thinks. It was his fault, that day. It should have been Minho and not his father. Minho stops trying to make an effort, and this time, it’s by his own choice. He lets the terror paralyze him, and finally, he’s getting what he deserves. He’s so resigned to his fate that he barely registers someone’s arms around him, steadying him in the water. 

“What in the hell are you doing?”

Jisung’s voice fills Minho’s ears, hurtling him back into reality. Minho feels Jisung’s arms tighten around his waist, and their legs knock against each other in the water. But the agitation doesn’t leave Minho’s body, as he keeps lashing his limbs out in the water.

“I— I can’t swim.” He croaks, trying to inhale and exhale to calm himself down, a technique his therapist taught him long ago. It doesn’t work.

For a moment, Minho thinks that he’s somehow imagined the help, that he’s already died and this is his soul’s strange way of coping. But then Jisung speaks up again, quietly. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”

For such a small person, Jisung really is strong, dragging both himself and Minho to the edge of the pool, where he grabs the railing and hoists himself up, before helping Minho out as well. Their audience steps away from the spectacle, going back to their own business, leaving Minho to sputter and cough, while Jisung just watches.

When he’s finished spitting out the mouthfuls of water that he swallowed, Minho looks over at Jisung. He doesn’t know if he really means it, but he says it anyway, because the last time, he never got the chance to. “Thank you.”

“Be careful.” Jisung stands up, stretching out his hand to Minho, who gingerly accepts it. “You never know when some hammered idiot is going to bump into you.”

In an unsaid agreement, the two boys leave the party instantly, having experienced enough of the party culture to last them for the rest of the year. They head towards the bus stop a few minutes walk away, instead of navigating the still-unfamiliar campus in the darkness. Minho walks with his arms wrapped around himself, stealing glances at the other boy, who stares straight ahead, whistling some random tune to himself.

“What song is that?” Minho hesitantly breaks the silence, his hatred for it outweighing the one he carries for conversation, for once. 

“Something I made up,” Jisung states, with a careless shrug.

Minho takes Jisung’s willingness to answer as a sign for him to keep going, to ask the questions that tug at him. “Why didn’t your parents come with you to help you move-in?”

Jisung doesn’t look at him, kicking at a pebble in his way. “Don’t have any.”

“As in—”

“They’re dead,” Jisung says shortly. “Car crash.”

Minho’s insides fill with something akin to sorrow. “I didn’t mean to—”

Jisung cuts Minho off for a second time, but now finally meets his eyes. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Minho shakes his head, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “How are you able to be so… normal? How can you just move on like that? You seem perfectly fine.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything for a moment, before listlessly gazing up at the sky above him. “Everyone has their own demons. Just depends on who’s better at hiding them.”

Minho keeps quiet and hangs his head down, trying not to let Jisung see the tears stinging his eyes.If Jisung notices, he doesn’t say anything, even when Minho’s voice comes out choked. “Does it ever go away, Jisung? The pain?”

“I don’t know, Minho. I can’t say yes for you, because sometimes it does go away, and sometimes it doesn’t.” Jisung sighs. “But we’ve all lost someone. The best we can do is keep moving forward.”

Minho doesn’t see the point in covering up his tears anymore; his roommate saw a lot more of him tonight than he’d have expected from anyone. The dampness streams down his cheeks freely, but Jisung still doesn’t comment on it, and for that, Minho is grateful. “I don’t feel ready— for any of this. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“No one does, trust me.” Jisung bumps Minho’s shoulder lightly, and usually, Minho would flinch away from touch like that. But he doesn’t, not this time. “But I guess that suffering with a friend is a little better than doing it alone.”

“I guess.” Minho cracks a rare smile at the other boy, as their ride pulls up in front of them.

They both get onto steps of the shuttle, met with the blindingly fluorescent lighting of the inside. The driver scans the newcomers, looking at them with an eyebrow raised. “Both of you headed to Levanter Dormitory?”

“Yes,” Jisung answers.

“What a coincidence.” The man laughs, and Minho stares at him in confusion. “Everyone else on here is also headed to Levanter. Makes my job a whole lot easier.”

Jisung makes his way to the very back of the bus, Minho following suit. There are only six other people on the bus. All of them are dozing off— a common sight at this hour— except for two of the boys— one dressed all in black and the other wearing a navy sweatshirt with the shape of a puppy embroidered on it. Minho passes by them, recognizing their faces from the past few days— in either quick glimpses or snippets of their conversations echoing in the dorm hallways—before taking his seat next to Jisung.

The drive is long, due to road construction happening even this late at night, but no one says anything. And the quiet doesn’t feel uneasy— it’s comfortable, being able to sit and revel in the absence of the pressure to seem interesting. They revel in the mundane aspects of life; Minho fiddles with his hands in his lap, planning out the next day in his head, while Jisung just looks out the window at the city lights whizzing by. 

A loud noise outside cuts through the sanctity, making everyone jump in their plastic seats, and the ones who were previous asleep blink their eyes slowly in waking up. They all gaze out the windows, their young, pensive hearts expecting the worst. Instead, they’re met with the dazzling sight of fireworks, golden sparks exploding above the view of the towering skyscrapers.

The boys exclaim out loud, not bothering to conceal the youthful idealism in their voices of awe. Jisung presses himself up against the window, his breath fogging up the glass. Minho grins, strangely pleased by this new, playful color to his roommate, one that’s just as interesting as his contemplative one. The fireworks keep erupting, casting a hazy glow on everyone’s skin.

“I wish I had my phone to take a picture,” one of the other passengers says out loud, to no one in particular. “I forgot it in my room.”

Minho glances at the speaker, a heartbreakingly handsome boy who looks more like an AI than an eighteen-year old kid. “You can borrow mine.”

The boy smiles at him in thanks, accepting Minho’s phone and using it to zoom in on the lit-up sky. Minho tears his eyes away from the window to look at the others on the bus. Everyone here has their own pain, their own secrets, their own story. Minho would like to know them, and maybe one day very soon, he just might. 

Because Minho knows that every day won’t be easy. There will be days in which time feels like it’s just barely ticking by, and others when it’s moving too fast, leaving stressed students with only seconds to finish their exams. There will be festival days and sleepless nights, good days and bad. But the negative thoughts will always outdo the positive ones if he gives them the strength to do so. 

He’s pushed others away for long enough, unwilling to forgive them, the world, and most of all, himself. But he’s now realized that life really does go on, that the beauty of it manifests in different ways every single day, whether it’s getting pulled out of a frat house pool or bearing witness to a brilliant aerial display. He understands that he just has to keep looking for it, that small light. And maybe these people— the very ones sitting with him on this simple shuttle back to his new home, the ones who could change his life in an instant— could help him find it one day.

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thank you to my impending college first-year worries for permeating my mind & forcing me to write this. Also, quick shout out to the lovely @simpforyongbokk for being my wonderful beta-reader. Honestly... I don't expect this story to get much attention, but either way, I'm dedicating it to all of the others like me, the people who will also be far from home soon enough, those with big fears and even bigger dreams— here's to growing up. Here's to 18.

-Dreamy

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

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©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

[sakurangelic]

Love Fool (2/?)

pairing: student!minho x student!gn!reader feat. student!seungmin genre: enemies to lovers combined with school au summary: Lee Y/N is the new student of the MAXIDENT university. Though, it seems like Y/N gets in some trouble with the popular guy, Lee Minho, right in the first day. Do they grow to hate each other or... love each other? warnings: none word count: 1.5k words (1,578) a/n: make sure to read the first part if you haven't done so! 1 | 2 | 3

"Thanks a lot for ruining my first day, Minho", you grunted and sat at a random desk in anger. You crossed your legs and arms, your tongue poking your cheek, as annoyance was clearly visible on your face. How could you not? After all, you got in trouble on the first day, all because of a stupid boy!

"You're not any better, Y/N", Minho growled and glared at you. He sat at the teacher's desk, placing his legs on it and crossing them.

You glanced over at him with a dumbfounded expression, slightly raising your eyebrow as you asked, "Are you even allowed to sit there? It's the teacher's desk after all; there are so many free student desks here…"

"Who?"

"Y—"

"Asked", he added.

You blinked. You were confused about his words and how any of them made sense. You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Who asked, you bird brain." Minho mocked me and rolled his eyes, letting his head fall and staring at the ceiling. "Do I have to remind you? I'm Lee Minho."

"Yeah, right, okay…" you whispered, feeling a bit hurt about his rude attitude. Obviously, you wouldn't care about such a person with attitude issues, but it really ruined your mood and motivation that school in South Korea will go well. You still remember how excited you felt when you arrived at your aunt's house and couldn't believe you made it to MAXIDENT University, one of the hardest performing arts and dance universities to get into and the best one in South Korea.

But then you remembered. It's just the first day. You have so many days, months, and years ahead to experience. You can't let a jerk like Minho make you give up, especially after all the years of hard work and learning to get here. And coming back to a country where you struggle with the language, yet still doing your best. You were sure that, despite the language barrier, you were going to find your friend group and make good memories with them.

Internally, you smiled to yourself. On the outside, you kept the same neutral expression on your face. You didn't want the male to bring up the fact that you randomly smiled for no reason, in dead silence, and make fun of it till your last breath in this building. In order to help the time pass and distract yourself from the fact that Minho was quite literally standing in front of you at the teacher's desk that he apparently claims is "his own desk", you searched through your school bag for your notebook. In the metallic spiral ring, there was a pencil that was designed by you with colourful duct tape, which you later drew cute and small doodles on, such as hearts, cats, diamonds, flowers, and more. As for the notebook cover, it was filled with different kinds of stickers that you had collected throughout your childhood, and your name was written on it, both in English and Korean.

You took out the pencil from the metallic spiral ring, opened an empty page, and started doodling the first thing that came to mind: your aunt's collection of plants and flowers. It was no surprise when you remembered how much of a big fan of nature she is and how she's a botanist. You could only remember how she would always babysit you during the summer, back when you were little, because of your mom who was busy with work. She would show you her collection of books and encyclopaedias about plants, explaining them in a fun and charming way. If you were lucky, your aunt would sometimes even bring you to the botanic garden she works at, and you would always admire the different kinds of plants. Something she always told you and, till this day, you still remember it is: 'See how every plant is different, but beautiful in their own way? That's how we humans are'. Such words fascinated you at that age, and, well… they still do.

Reminiscing about these childhood memories definitely helped you feel better and forget about what happened moments ago. By now, you had finished drawing about four or five plants out of, who knows, how many your aunt had. You tried counting once, but you weren't really that bored to count till the end. You probably gave up after 10 anyway, from what you remember.

Even though you kept yourself busy with this stuff, when you suddenly stopped drawing, that's when you realised just how loud the silence was. Then the question popped: What has Minho been doing the whole time? You did tell yourself to not pay him any attention, but it just seemed so weird for him to be this quiet. While it was wrong to assume whether he's usually loud or quiet after barely meeting him, based on the impression you got and how hard he showed off the fact he's "really popular", you wouldn't be necessarily surprised for him to find himself always having to say something in any situation. Then, why didn't he continue the conversation from earlier?

That's when you realised you were feeling a gaze on you. Your eyes slowly travelled up and met Minho's. You were slightly shocked to see the look in his eyes. He was completely lost in his thoughts and seemed to try figuring something out as he was staring at your birthmark. Between your right cheek and eye, you had a small mole with a soft shade of cocoa, looking like a perfectly drawn circle.

"What?", You broke the silence with your sudden question before the male looked away as if nothing had happened.

An awkward silence (pun intended) fell, and you were staring at him, waiting for him to do or say something, as you slowly placed the pencil in your notebook. Suddenly, Minho got up, fixed the tie on his uniform, and put his hand in his pockets as he made his way out of the detention room. All you could do was just watch him leave, your eyes still waiting for an answer. The door shut behind him, and your eyes remained fixed on it for a minute.

You tucked your lips and turned your head to the clock above the board. A sigh of slight annoyance left your lips when you realised that you didn't check the time when you entered detention because you were too mad to think about how long you were going to stay here. Neither did the teacher mention how long detention would last for you two, unless it was an unspoken rule that you had no idea about. Everything felt frustrating; why were you lost about this stuff? You were starting to doubt how easily you were going to adapt yourself in this new environment compared to the people in your year who had an year to get used to it. - "So, Lee Y/N from 'S' Class (another pun), which is my class, why are you still not in detention?", one of the teachers that was apparently your homeroom teacher questioned.

You were standing there awkwardly, slowly smiling awkwardly, and trying to find a way to explain it. "Well, Mr. Ahn didn't tell us how long detention would last…" You paused for a moment and continued, "I'm new here, and I thought that if Lee Minho left, then that would mean detention was over." You bowed at her, nervous about her reaction.

"Alright, I'll let it pass this time. You're new here, and his leaving did confuse you. I would have preferred you to have asked Mr. Ahn before leaving; he tends to be forgetful and wants to quickly send students to detention to continue his lessons…", Ms. Kang slowly nodded and rambled on.

"But anyways, you said you needed help with taking your notes from the classes you missed during detention, right?"

"Yes, that's right. I haven't gotten the chance to make any friends in my class", you explained quickly, hoping Ms. Kang would find a solution and just let you go home.

"Oh, I have just the right student for you to give you the notes! He's the class president, Kim Seungmin. Here, this is his phone number, and you can text him to send you the notes", Ms. Kang showed you the number on her phone screen, and you added that number as 'Kim Seungmin'.

You once again bowed to her and gave her a sweet smile. "Thank you so much, Ms. Kang! And I apologise for the mess."

"No worries, but I expect you tomorrow to do better, Lee Y/N. See you tomorrow."

You watched as your homeroom teacher walked away, going to the teacher's room to grab her stuff. You sighed, tilting your head on the sides to crack it, and made your way home. - When you arrived home, you sat at your desk and went on your phone. You tapped on the contact named 'Kim Seungmin' and stared at the empty conversation. You were hesitating to text anything, but you knew that you really needed those notes. With a slight nervousness, you texted Seungmin. To your luck, he was quick to reply and send the notes to you. Thanking him, you went to write the notes and study them.

You wondered what would happen tomorrow. After all, Ms. Kang hoped that you wouldn't get into another trouble like today.

[spacequokka]

Page 34

You pushed away from your desk and slouched in your chair, rubbing your eyes with a muted yawn. You’d been sitting there for what had to be years at this point, scouring the raw data from the startup company’s sales.

“If you’re too tired to keep up, maybe you should quit and call it a night.” Minho dropped a folder on your desk. “Don’t need to fix your mistakes, too.”

You nearly cussed at him, proof he was right. Normally, he could never get a reaction out of you when you were fully rested and caffeinated. But for fuck’s sake, you wouldn’t admit it out loud. The department was on crunch time and needed everyone working on this project. Clocking out now would ensure a shitty performance review and another year’s worth of work to get that promotion. You needed caffeine. Ignoring his snide remark you stood up.

“Oh, you’re really gonna—”

“Piss off. No one listens to you,” you mumbled as you stepped around him and shuffled over to the coffee station. A mistake really since he was obviously desperate for attention. The grin said it all as he followed.

“The teacher’s pet speaks!”

“Oh, God.” You groaned picking up a cup.

“Tell me, while I have the time to spare, why is it you thought you’d do better in accounting than—say—advertising or sales? While you’re creative and have the talent for design, you’re pretty shit at numbers.”

You bit your tongue and filled the cup with coffee. You shouldn’t entertain him. Heaven only knew why he insisted on bothering you day in and day out. At this point, even HR was sick of him. But he only bothered you like this. He was utterly pleasant with everyone else on payroll.

“No one would blame you if you transferred, you know. It would make life easier for everyone else—”

You slammed the coffee pot down on the counter and it shattered sending coffee spilling everywhere. Seeing red, you seized him by the throat and squeezed. “Listen here, you dickless, whiny asshat. I do my job just as good—if not better—than you do yours. If you don’t shut the fuck up I will shove my foot down your fucking throat and stomp on your fucking liver—are you getting a fucking boner?”

[tasteleeknow]

LIVING IN THE RUINS

minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.

“Excuse me?”

You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 

She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 

He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 

“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 

“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 

Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 

The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 

Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 

She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.

The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’

Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 

You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 

The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 

—

Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 

You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 

He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 

“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 

“God, you scared me.” 

It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 

You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 

You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 

You love him. 

It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 

The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 

You loved him. 

It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 

It falls. 

You’re pathetic without it. 

All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 

Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 

It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 

But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 

That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 

What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 

Not an option. 

“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 

You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 

“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 

He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 

“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 

You shake your head. 

His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 

“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 

Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 

“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 

They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 

“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 

“Not really.” 

His eyebrows pull together. 

“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 

His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 

You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 

“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 

Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 

He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 

The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 

His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—

“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 

You nod dumbly.

He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 

He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 

“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 

“I—” 

“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 

His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 

Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 

“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.

“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 

When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.

[hyunsvngs]

lee know the cuddlebug who will headbutt your chest or stomach if youre not giving him attention and cuddles 🤧🤧🤧

aww this is so much softer than where my headspace has been lately & lbr, i need it ♡

minho is definitely a needy boyfriend, much needier than he lets on. he's like an aloof little stray cat sometimes; he'll definitely pretend that he isn't craving your love and affection, even if it's what he's been thinking about all day.

he'll often smother you with affection under the guise of comforting you. "come here, baby, i know you've had a long day," he'll say as he brings you into his arms, hushing your protests of "my day's been fine actually," with "shh, you don't need to pretend for me." you just have to humour him, and pretend you're rubbing his back, scratching his head and kissing his cheeks for your own benefit.

if you don't give in, though, clingy minho will emerge. he'll sidle up to you on the couch, and if you're distracted by your phone, a book, the tv, he'll slowly begin to get agitated.

"hey y/n?" "yeah, minho?" ...and then he'll only poke your arm, nudge your shin with his foot, or simply stare at you. he will not, under any circumstances, verbally tell you what he wants. you already know, of course, because he's way more obvious than he thinks.

his pokes and jabs and whines will increase, the crease between his eyebrows growing deeper. eventually, he'll knock your phone/book out of your hands, in true catlike fashion. he'll stare at you innocently, as if to say wow, how did it fly out of your hand like that?

if you still didn't play along, it wouldn't be long before he gave up and pounced on you. headbutting your stomach, nuzzling into your chest and neck, climbing onto your lap until there was physically no way you could avoid him.

it's beyond tempting to coo at him, "aww is someone in a cuddly mood today?" but it's not worth the glare it earns you. it's best to just enjoy the sweet warmth of the boy in your arms, cherish the gentle kisses he peppers across your skin, hold him tight as he snuggles you in return.

[sunshineangel0]

kim seungmin + corruption kink/oral fixation/innocence kink

“You ever had someone go down on you before?”

The question lands like a slap—low, smug, right against your inner thigh as Seungmin’s mouth moves higher, leaving a trail of heat with every kiss.

You shake your head, breath stuttering, heart pounding so loud you’re sure he can hear it. “N-no…”

He chuckles. Quiet, pleased. His lips brush your skin again, softer this time. “Yeah. I figured.”

You’re already spread out for him—laid back, trembling, soaked through your panties like you’ve been waiting for this moment your whole life. Like you were made for this. And maybe you were.

Seungmin drags a hand up your thigh, slow and easy. Like he has all night to take you apart.

“You always get this wet just from someone talking dirty?” he murmurs, eyes flicking up to catch your reaction. “That innocent little brain of yours must be short-circuiting right now.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Just slides his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, lets them snap back against your skin with a soft pop before tugging them down—inch by inch, deliberate, like he’s unwrapping a gift.

The second you’re bare, he freezes. Stares. And then exhales like it physically knocked the wind out of him.

“Fuck. Look at you.” His voice drops lower, almost reverent. “Dripping and untouched. You’ve really been keeping this all to yourself?”

Your face burns, but you nod—shaky, exposed, helpless under his gaze.

He grins. “That’s adorable.”

Then his expression shifts—his smile softens into something darker, more dangerous. Like he’s already ten steps ahead, imagining everything he’s going to do to you.

“I’m gonna ruin you,” he says, steady as ever, voice calm and precise like he’s delivering a fact. “You realize that, right?”

You nod before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

He doesn’t waste another second.

The moment his mouth touches you, everything else disappears. His lips are soft, tongue slow, licking into you like he’s savoring every inch. Long, teasing strokes that make your toes curl and your spine arch.

You gasp—sharp and high—and he groans like that sound alone is enough to get him off.

“Mm, fuck,” he mutters into you, voice muffled by your pussy. “Knew you’d taste sweet. But this? Shit. You’re gonna ruin me right back.”

He starts working you over like it’s a challenge. Like he needs to know exactly how to break you with just his mouth.

Your hands find his hair, gripping tight, not to pull him away—but to keep him right there.

“Already shaking,” he murmurs, tongue flicking your clit in short, fast strokes that make your legs jerk. “How’d you go this long without someone doing this to you? That’s criminal.”

You try to answer—anything—but all that comes out is a whimper.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes, dragging his tongue lower, then back up in one slow, filthy lick. “I’ll make sure you never go without again.”

He grips your thighs, pulls you closer, his mouth greedier now—messy, wet, loud. The kind of head that feels like worship and destruction at the same time.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispers against you, voice too tender for how rough his tongue is working you. “Let go. Wanna hear you fall apart.”

It takes one more flick—perfect and precise—and then you’re gone.

You cry out, hips bucking, thighs closing in around his head. He groans, sucking you through it, like he loves the way you shake, the way you moan his name like a prayer.

When you finally go limp, chest heaving, he pulls back—face soaked, lips shiny, eyes blown wide.

He licks his lips slowly, smirking. “Pretty little virgin pussy,” he says, voice rough. “You think I’m stopping after just one?”

He moves up your body, mouth finding your neck, fingers already sliding between your thighs again.

“No, baby. We’re just getting started.”

©sunshineangel0 𖹭 if you liked this work, please consider reblogging, commenting or liking! xoxo franzi 💋

skz general: @velvetmoonlght @scarlet789 @estella-novella @nightmarenyxx @channiesluvrclub @slut4junho @bobaluvzz @channiesbaby1433 @wonniesjungdimple @mythicmochi

(if you wanna be added to the taglist comment below!)

[fluffylino]

serpent hybrid hyunjin 🌱🐍🌱

hyunjin never acted like this. you had never seen him behave so much like a serpent. was he experiencing an unusual kind of heat? did snakes do that...well u just gotta find out

i love this concept so much ill scream-

reblogging > liking

-contains mature themes (two dicks and a split tongue ahhh)

snake hybrids weren't exactly judged well in society. stereotypical beliefs calling them mean slithery liars who manipulate people.

they were just misjudged. misunderstood hybrids who needed affection too. maybe the energy exhuded made them look tough and deadly but deep down they were sweeter than even bunny hybrids.

thats why your boyfriend, hyunjin is always by your side.

theres nothing quite different about snake hybrids. except for the patches of scales on different parts of their body.

however some had no scales, instead just forked tongues. hyunjin was no exception. patient and mind numbingly soft at all times. snuggling into you every now and then.

thats why when you step into the house,you aren't expecting the strong whiff of a certain peculiar smell. its musky and fills the whole apartment.

you don't even know what you're smelling until you're embraced by him. his body warm, reeking of musk. intoxicating your senses.

"hyun-" you let out hurriedly, dropping your bag on the ground in shock. his face buried in your neck. hands running all over your body.

practically pushing you against the door, slipping his left hand between your legs while his right hand grabbed your backside. gasping at the way you seem to float off the ground. he's picking you up quicker than you can even process.

"what's going on? baby?" you say, trying to wriggle out of his firm hold. he's stronger than before and he continues holding you off the ground.

hyunjin hisses.

he fucking hisses.

and your eyes widen. thats only the second time he's ever hissed at you. once during an argument and right now. did that mean he was angry?

"heat." is all he says, huffing as he slams the bedroom door open. throwing you on the bed. not caring at the funny way, you bounced on the soft mattress.

"what do you mean? I thought snakes..don't get heats..."

you questioned. watching as he paced around the room, trying to control himself.

taking off his hoodie. arms out on display. shining with a thin layer of sweat. his hair soaked.

"fuck i don't know...i was washing our clothes and i got the smell of your shirt..."

he mumbles, and your eyes go down to where theres a prominent bulge in his pants. a wet patch staining the material.

"and its like my senses went wild. all I was thinking of was you. fucking you over and over again..." hyunjin slurs, his forked tongue peeking out.

"jinnie...your tongue"

you whisper. intrigued at how his tongue slipped past his lips every few seconds. he had never done that before.

"i can't control it-" he covers his mouth, gazing at you with needy eyes.

were his eyes always so sharp, you wondered.

"its okay baby, breathe" you reassure, opening your arms for him to come to you. and he does. resting his head on your shoulder, his weight pressing you down into the bed.

leaning into kiss him innocently when all of a sudden, his hands are on either side of your face, pulling you in for a needy kiss.

brain shutting off at the feeling of his forked tongue licking into your mouth. forcing you to be submissive because you knew you wouldn't win this battle.

.

🌱

.

"j-jinnie" squirming under him.

his hands pinning your lower half down. head buried between your legs. your toes curling everytime he maneuvered his tongue to simultaneously flick at your sensitive clit and slip between your swollen lips.

"shhh"

u don't know if he's shushing you or hissing at you.

because the next thing you feel is his fork like tongue pushing all over your folds. fingers digging into your hips with strength that had your cunt throbbing.

whining at the loss as he lifts his head up. teasingly using the tips of his wet muscle to prod at your bundle of nerves. face contorting in pleasure at your taste. breath heavy on your warmth.

"breed." he blurts out, surprising himself. your mouth opening in shock when his nails dig into your waist.

his nails had grown longer, into claws and the once hardly noticeable scales on his forearms became visible. gradient shade of black and grey.

"hyun! h-hyunjin, baby b-bab-"

writhing higher into the mattress as he pushed your legs further apart.

nestling his split tongue over your swollen pussy. teasingly managing to place your clit in the Y of his wet muscle.

had his tongue grown longer because you could feel him so deep...

.

.

"h-hyun?" you whisper, gripping his arm to relax your body for him. scales textured and rough under your calloused palm.

"m'right here, baby" hyunjin cooes. placing a hand flat on your lower stomach. eyes fixed on where he was prepping you.

with both his dicks. rubbing the tip over your folds while the other pressed into your entrance. leaking more and more slick that mixed with your own arousal.

"almost in, my love" nudging the first one in with extreme care. your fingers grasping at him. his jaw hanging open as he pushed in, groaning when he slid halfway in.

spreading your thighs so he could start to push his second dick in. the sensation and stretch making you cry in a mix of pain and pleasure.

snake hybrids had two features that only a person who they were close to, would find out about. a forked long tongue means their dicks are the same as well.

hyunjin was not particularly big. actually he was slightly above average considering snake hybrids had longer lengths and lesser girths.

hyunjin had thicker girths and the length of both his dicks were just perfect. neither too big nor too small.

but right now, he felt bigger.

he felt longer. he felt hot.

thats why when he pushes both of them past your entrance, you let out a muffled scream. eyes rolling back at the fullness. quite literally stuffed like this, for the first time.

"f-fuck gonna take me all in"

lowering himself to look down at you. his arms on either side of your head. placing his larger hands on your face. lips brushing against your open mouth.

"thats my precious girl~" and your pussy spasms around him.

getting him soaked because the way the word 'precious' rolled off his tongue, could make you cum on the spot. rolling his s's and a few other alphabets in a serpent like way. something he'd usually never do.

a firm thrust that has your hands flying up to hold onto him. clawing at his back while he buried himself deeper into your cunt. stretching you out with every rough movement.

the scales on his back were larger and travelled down his spine. groaning as you scratched down his back, hard enough to leave red imprints.

"gonna take my cum like a good mate, yes~" hyunjin hisses, watching you so closely. letting his tongue run over your front teeth, all the way down to your bottom lip.

you nod at his statement. wrapping your legs around his waist. pulling him closer. not caring if his patterns of uneven scales scratched you here and there.

plush lips kissing you with such intensity. his nose pressing into your cheek. pushing you deeper into the pillow. trailing a hand down to where your chest touched his. grabbing a handful of flesh and squeezing hard enough to make you arch your back.

taking the opportunity to thrust in deeper. your bottom half nearly lifted off the bed with his strength.

pads of his fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nubs. hooking your leg higher so he could change the angle. filling you up with warmth. it makes your eyes struggle to stay open.

this was nowhere near over...

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

hiss hiss need more snake hyunjin ideas FUVKKKKK

part two

[lieslab]

Maybe dreams are meant for sleeping

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Minho X gn reader

Summary: Your boyfriend's sudden coldness towards you causes you to assume the worst.

Genre: Angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I've been giggling over this for a while now. Shout out to the requestee because this made me giggle and kick my feet. I love a good misunderstanding that leads to something exciting. Anyway, since my schedule was train wrecked, I'll post my next fic on Sunday, schedule on Monday, another fic on Tuesday <3

_ _ _

Rain-swollen clouds burst open at approximately four-something in the morning. The heavens opened and the rain poured. It hit the roof so hard, Minho was certain his movement would be muted, but your body had other plans. 

Twenty minutes later, your arms wrapped around the robe you put on. The shuffling of your house slippers fell victim to the pounding rain drops above. Minho’s body sat in the dim fridge light. He moved about in the dark kitchen, stirring through items, and looking for last night’s leftovers. 

He didn’t realize you were there until you reached up and flicked on the kitchen light. “Minho?” You called, reaching up to rub your sleepy eyes. “Minho? What are you doing? It’s so early, you should be sleeping.” 

He froze with his eyes locked on the glass container of rice. He made a large batch last night. Large enough, it’d last the two of you a few days. He planned to put it with his lunch. Of course, he could have eaten in the building’s canteen, but he wasn’t sure he’d have the time. 

Lately, the guys had been so busy. Time muddled between their busy schedules. Management wanted everything done all at once. Twenty-four hours wasn’t enough time for a single day. You understood that, right? 

“I have to go to work early.” He avoided your sleepy eyes. Instead, he spun back to the marbled countertop. He worked quickly, placing the leftovers into his lunchbox. “I didn’t know until late last night. You were asleep when I got the text from my manager. There’s a photoshoot we have to attend.” 

“I wish I would have known. I wanted to make breakfast for us to enjoy together. I’ll have to wait for another day.” 

He nodded and sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah. I’ll let you know when I’m not so busy. I’ll try to talk to management. I’ll see you later.” 

You waited for the words, but they never came. You shut your eyes, expecting the warmth of his body, but that didn’t show up either. He left you standing alone in the kitchen. Without kisses. Without an “I love you.” He left your heart as cold as the downpouring rain outside. 

Your eyes reopened. You assumed he’d rush back and make amends, but he didn’t. The front door opened and then it shut. A faint jingle of keys, the lock turned, and then nothing. You were left alone to your own thoughts. 

A deep breath in and letting it out slowly. It hurt, the startling realization that you weren’t imagining things. Distance grew between you and Minho. You couldn’t place what you did wrong. 

It's always been a fear, deep down, he’d find someone better than you. Maybe, he finally realized he didn’t have the time for love in his life. Being an idol is hard. He spoke so openly about it, maybe his own words struck a chord in his heart. A realization drove the point home and now he’d abandon you, unsure of how to state the truth. 

You tried not to let it bother you, but it stung. Invisible wasps flew above your head and stung your brain; a thousand different thoughts, each one pierced the skin with a more potent venom. 

It all circled back and clouded your self-worth. What if you weren’t good enough? What if he really did find someone better? What if? What if? What if? 

It’s always been good, the relationship between the two of you. You cherished it with everything you had. It meant whispered words of affection while you played with his hair. A silent fondness in your eyes while you watched him consume the food you made. 

He always joked he could make the dish better. Suggesting things to add, gesturing to different items housed in their locations. Nonetheless, he still ate everything you put in front of him. Every grain of rice, every smear of sauce, he scooped it up with his spoon and swallowed it. He never thanked you out loud, it was more of a silent thing. 

He’d wash the dishes afterwards, insisting he had to do them because you spent so much time cooking. Other times, he’d walk behind you and wrap his arms around your body; a human-formed shroud of love. He didn’t need to thank you for the dish. You would have made him a thousand dishes without the need for compliments. 

Compliments were nice, but the warmth washed over you when he scooped up a second bowl. Ladling in broth, using chopsticks to grab more meat, scooping up vegetables while he mindlessly said something needed seasoned more. Yet, when you offered him the option, he refused, insisting he’d manage. 

The one time he insisted something needed more salt, he added a few more sprinkles. Popping the warm dumpling in his mouth, he paused and his eyes widened. An eye twitched and you forced a hand over your mouth to keep your laughter at bay. He never proclaimed something needed more salt again. 

In the silence, ground sausage sat in the fridge. Eggs hid in the darkness of a cardboard carton. You purchased fresh bagels from a bakery last night. You figured you’d have so many hours before they lost that fresh-baked taste. 

You expected to share a homemade breakfast with Minho, but his disappearance left your soul aching. You stared where his body once was. A coldness crept down your spine and your heart wavered. The burn of tears brimmed against your eyes, but you didn’t stop it. 

Like the downpouring rain, your sadness leaked out. It soaked your cheeks, but you didn’t wipe it away. Instead, you sniffled and flipped off the light. The early morning darkness made you feel worse. You spun around, heading back to the safety of your bedding. You’d cocoon yourself in and try to feel normal again. 

More importantly, you’d tried to pretend Minho was at work and not at someone else’s house, making their heart his newfound home. 

~ ~ ~ 

A few days later, the sound of forks scraping against porcelain plates caused your eardrums to shrivel. You winced when your own fork caught the plate. In front of you, Minho twirled pasta around his fork without a care in the world. 

You came home from work to the scent of tomatoes, oregano, and italian seasoning. Garlic wafted through the air and greeted you when you stepped into the kitchen. With his back to you, Minho used tongs to place pasta on plates. “You’re home just in time.” 

You hummed, unsure of what to say. Things between the two of you felt different since the other morning. You wanted to bring it up, but fear stopped you. What if you were right? What if he really moved on, or decided he didn't want to do this anymore? Whatever it was, you hated it. 

Fear kept you cautious and on the tip of your toes. Your heart wavered around him. Paranoia grew and you hated to admit it, but it followed you around like a shadow. When would he slip up? 

Maybe you’d overhear a phone conversation where he’d admit his real feelings. Perhaps, his new significant other would show up and you’d catch it all in the act. You couldn’t stand the waiting, it felt like torture. The scent of a body spray that wasn’t yours. A hoodie that Minho had never owned. 

So vigilant, you were on the constant lookout. You wanted to point and accuse him, drive the nail home, and have a final aha moment. You waited and waited, but it never came. The longer it went on, the more irritable and restless you became. 

If Minho could have his secrets and stop loving you, you could do it, too. In your own way, you’d play his game. You’d treat him just like he treated you. 

So you sat in silence at the kitchen table. Your fork scraped against the porcelain plate. You didn’t thank him for the meal. In fact, you didn’t say much of anything. You picked at your spaghetti, not feeling like you could consume much of it. The garlic bread, you managed to get in a few bites. 

“Are you feeling ill?” Minho asked after a while. 

You looked up blankly, not sure you heard him correctly. “Huh?” 

“I asked if you’re feeling okay. You’re not eating much. You’re not talking a lot either, it’s not like you.” 

You shrugged, brushing him off. The clock on the side of the egg-shell white wall ticked. Your fork scraped the plate again. You twirled the fork and waited. 

Minho stared at you and his eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t say anything else, he waited for a confession. You refused to break. Maybe you were being petty, or maybe you were giving him a taste of his own goddamn medicine. 

Hurt turned into annoyance and that annoyance grew into anger. You wanted him to hurt. You wanted to break his heart. You wanted to do everything you could to make him feel like how you felt. 

Hurt. 

Isolated. 

Angry. 

Afraid. 

You wanted him to be afraid. You wanted fear to grip his heart and squeeze, causing longing to take over. Maybe he’d realize you were irreplaceable that way. Without you, life would be miserable, wouldn’t it? 

The ticking of the clock marched on. Soft breaths came from your chests. You didn’t meet his eyes. Another sharp squeal of your fork. His eyebrows creased with worry and then his chair grated along the tiled floor. 

A hand reached out, gently cupping the top of your empty hand. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on with you?” You looked up for a brief moment, enough for your eyes to meet for a few seconds, and then you pulled away. 

Your hand left his. Anger rose up the back of your throat. The acidic tomato and basil seasoning of the pasta sauce swirled in the darkened depths of your stomach.“Nothing,” you mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze. “Nothing is wrong. I’m fine.” 

“Don’t do that. You’re clearly not fine. Talk to me. I can’t understand what’s happening to you.” 

“How ironic,” you grumbled. 

“What?” 

“I said I’m fine!” You snapped, jerking yourself away from the table. Your wooden chair jerked back with a loud sound and you stood up. “If you can’t understand the problem, Minho, maybe there isn’t one at all.” 

His face fell and his head tipped to the side. He watched your disappearing body in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He called after you. 

“Figure it out!” 

He sat in silence, unsure of the issue. Tears blurred your eyes, but you didn’t sob. You didn’t spin around and demand answers from him.

Instead, you stormed into your shared bedroom and slammed the door shut, a loud and cold action; the painful reminder that you wanted to be alone for now. 

~ ~ ~ 

Over the course of the next week, the relationship between the two of you grew more and more rocky. You avoided Minho more and more, pulling away from who you thought was the love of your life. In your eyes, he let you. 

You waited and waited for the day to come. You knew it was only a matter of time before the truth rolled out. At least, you were expecting it this time. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of breaking your heart. You broke your own heart mere days ago. 

He didn’t have time to explain himself. He couldn’t, not fully. Not when you worked and his work was dragging him further and further away from you. New things popped up. Fan signs, photoshoots, interviews, and the finishing touches on an album planned for early next year. 

He wanted to find the right time to confront you, but it never worked. You didn’t give him a chance. You’d been going to bed early. By the time he came home, you were sound asleep in bed. He didn’t want to wake you up, so he let you sleep. When you woke up, he’d already be back at the studio. 

You missed him like an abandoned dog craved the warm hand of their previous owner on a dark winter night. He filled your dreams. When you’d wake in the middle of the night, between his gentle snores, you’d roll over and curl into his body, holding him tight. You needed him far more than you’d admit out loud. 

Too afraid to lose you, Minho made plans for today. On a Friday, you’d be home earlier than usual. Today, so would he. He’d confront you and things would go back to how they should be. 

Dozing off on the suede couch, you didn’t hear the sound of Minho’s keys jingling and hitting the lock. The front door creaked open and he cautiously stepped inside. Holding his breath, he paused and waited. 

The murmurings of some romance show fell from the television. You picked romance because you were swaddled in your own self-pity. What better way to bring yourself down again? Watch random couples fall in love. Watch it pull them together and break apart in painstaking ways. Love has always been such a contradicting thing. 

When Minho called your name, you glanced up with half-droopy eyes. Sure you were dreaming, you mumbled his name. “Go away. I’m so mad at you, I don’t want to talk to you.” 

“Why are you mad at me?” 

“Because you’ve been distant and ignoring me.” Your bottom lip trembled. “It really hurts my feelings to watch you become so closed off. It’s like you don’t love me anymore.” 

“Is that what you think?” 

“So I’ve been trying to ignore you,” you continued, “because I can do that, too. I can ignore you and maybe you’ll see how much it hurts me. I can’t even recognize you anymore. What are we?” 

You jerked upright, letting the tears fall down your cheeks. “I love you, you know? I love you and you’re making me feel like I don’t exist.” A sweater sleeve wiped across your nose. “So who is it? Who is the lucky new person that stole your heart?”

“You are such an idiot.” 

“An idiot?” You wailed. “You broke my heart! It’s like you hate me now! I don’t even know what I-” Your words caught in your throat and a pathetic whimper came out. 

He walked over to you and gently grabbed your hand. “Hey, I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been nervous and I guess I’ve done this the wrong way.” 

“Nervous to break up with me?” 

His head shook and he smiled. “I can’t break up with the love of my life.” He reached up, gently brushing your hair back. “You look like a splotchy clown when you cry.” 

Your bottom lip trembled. He grabbed your other hand and squeezed, trying to hold onto you. “I’m not breaking up with you.” 

“Then why do you keep acting like it? Stop dancing around the question and tell me. Trust me, I can handle it.” 

“I…” He trailed off and sighed. “Just stay here for a moment, will you? I’ll show you instead of telling you. Just stay here and I’ll be right back.” 

“Promise?” 

He nodded and stood up. “Give me a minute and I’ll be back.” He spun around and disappeared.

You wiped at your eyes and blinked rapidly. Murmuring voices came from the television until you reached over and turned it off. When footsteps reappeared, you looked up. Minho approached you with a small box in his hand. 

“What is that?” 

He sank back down between your legs, letting his elbows rest on your thighs. “I’m sorry I haven’t been a good boyfriend lately. I’ve been struggling to keep this a secret. Every time I look at you, you make me want to blurt it out loud.” 

You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he meant. He lifted up the small black box. About the size of his palm, he reached down and tugged the box open. To your surprise, a ring sat pressed between two velvet flaps. Your eyes widened and you gasped, it jerked you right awake. 

“Wait, what?” 

“I was trying to figure out how to do it. I wanted to propose to you properly. I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I know you mentioned you wanted to get married. You’ve never exactly told me how you wanted to be proposed to. I didn’t want to ruin the surprise, but…” 

“This entire time, I thought you hated me. I should deck you for making me feel worthless. Is this my birth stone?” 

“Yeah. It’s pretty, isn’t it? Almost as pretty as you. Do you want to try it on?” 

You nodded and let him grab your hand. He popped the ring onto your left ring finger. As you observed the glimmering oval stone, he grabbed your other hand. “How does it feel?” 

“Perfect.” You didn’t take your eyes off of it. Instead, you lifted your hand, letting it catch the sunlight slipping through the window. “Why didn’t you bring this up from the start?” 

“You like surprises and I only get to propose to you once. I love you so much, but I was so nervous about this. I’ve been restless. Every time I look at you, I want to gush right then and there. You make me feel like a little kid with a huge crush.” 

Your bottom lip wobbled again and his face fell. “Hey, hey, please don’t cry. I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do it again. I’ll take the ring back and plan something grand. Tomorrow, I can-” 

“No.” 

“What?” 

“Yes.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Can you hear? I said yes, you loser. This implies we’re getting married. Look at it!” You shifted your hand again, letting the reflection sparkle. “It’s gorgeous.” 

“But-” 

“Do you want to marry me, or not?” 

“What? Of course, I do!” His hands dug into your thighs desperately. “Yes, absolutely. I want to see you walk down the aisle and everything. The whole nine-yards.” 

“Then yes. Let’s get married. What are we waiting for?” You tried to stand up. “Let’s go to the courthouse now.” 

“WHAT?” 

“You heard me. Come on,” you shifted again. “No take-backs. You wanna marry me soooo bad. You’re down so bad, you’re a simp.” 

His face went blank and he blinked. “I suppose I deserve that for being distant.” 

“You deserve to shine my shoes until next year.” 

“Hey!” 

But I’ll be nice and say you can make it up to me by doing the dishes for the next month. You know how I feel about the dishes.” 

“Only if you cook for the next month.” 

“Ha!” You reached out, playfully slapping his chest. “I knew it! You love my cooking!” 

“You can’t poison me if we’re engaged.” 

“But it still means I can kick your ass any time of day.” 

“Kiss it, you brat.” 

You stuck your tongue out. He reached up and pinched it between his fingers, causing you to freeze. Your cheeks went bright red and your eyes met his. 

“Fine. You can keep the ring, but we’re planning an actual wedding. We’re not rushing the wedding. We’re going to communicate and talk to one another. Do you understand me?” 

You timidly nodded and he let go of your tongue. You pulled back, wiping your face with your sleeve. “Wow, that was um…” 

“Hot?” He guessed. 

“Gross, actually. Now you’ve got my tongue germs. How does that feel?” 

He reached up and wiped his fingers against your bare thigh, causing you to squeal. “You really love pressing my buttons, don’t you? Keep pressing them and see how far that attitude gets you.” 

A grin lit up your face and he pulled away. “Don’t even start.” You grabbed his hand before he could get far. He groaned and tipped his head back. “What more do you want from me? I said I was sorry.” 

“I want a proper kiss.” 

“Oh, that I can do.” He jerked forward, grabbing the front of your shirt. He pulled you back to his face. “Just remember who’s in charge here.” 

You reached up, flicking his nose playfully. “Who has a ring on their finger and who doesn’t?” 

“You brat.” 

“Jackass.” 

“Dipshit.” 

“Bastard.” 

He opened his mouth, but you cut him off with your lips against his. Heated and flushed, you chased the kind of kiss you’d been missing out on. Desperate and hungry, you clutched the front of his shirt and pressed him closer to your body. 

You wanted it to last forever, but he pulled away after a few seconds. You whined his name in misery. “Easy there, brat. You’re kissing me so much, you’re forgetting to breathe. Take a deep breath before you end up dying from lack of oxygen.” 

“What a beautiful way to die.” 

“Who’s the simp now?” 

“Minho, shut the fuck up and kiss me again.” 

Before he did, his hand curled around yours and the cool ring brushed against his fingers. As your lips met again, he took pleasure in knowing you were his. His and his alone. 

Even if you were a brat, he loved you just the same as he always had; the same as he forever would.

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