armpittae

[armpittae]

☆ STRAY KIDS REALIZING THEY ARE IN LOVE WITH YOU

pairing: stray kids x fem!reader

genre: fluff, idol!au + non-idol!au , 2.2k

a/n: finally managed to finish this one 🫡

back to masterlist!

☆ BANGCHAN

bangchan realizes it late at night on a tuesday. it's around two or three am when bangchan's phone buzzes, one time, two times and a third time before it stays silent for a few minutes. he's hesitant to pick up the device from its location–which is screen down on the desk– but his thoughts soon get interupted by a fourth buzz. he sighs in relief and smiles, it's you.

less than ten minutes later, you walk in the studio, holding a grocery bag in your right hand. bangchan told you that you didn't need to come and that you should sleep since you had work at eight am that day but you still decided to come over. not everybody would sacrifice a night of sleep to take care of a friend, to make sure he eats and drinks enough.

bangchan falls asleep around five in the morning, on the couch, a blanket draped over his body that you so carefully placed there to keep him warm. you stay up a bit to clean up, throwing away the ramen boxes and organizing all the papers on his desk before you settle next to him and fall asleep less than three minutes after.

when he wakes up that morning, you're a gone but a cup of coffee and a note await him. you remind him to rest and bangchan can't help but blush at the little heart next to your name. you're a great friend but that day, he hopes for you to be more than friends.

☆ LEE KNOW

it was unexpected for him, it came out of nowhere and at once. the boys had invited you to go on a short trip to a cabin with them and you had happily agreed, organizing and helping chan with preparing everything. when the two cars parked in front of your apartment, you immediately hopped into the car with minho, sliding in next to him and giving him a smile so big he could tell how joyful you were. from the moment you exited the city, banter and laughter filled the car. it was a chilly but sunny afternoon and having you by his side, so openly carefree, made him all the more content. lee know wasn’t really listening to the conversation, mainly admiring you, but suddenly something drags him out of his reverie. you’re playfully arguing with han and apparently you’re talking about lee know’s cats. the boy’s too peaceful to interrupt the two of you so he listens. he can’t help but grin when you describe his three cats, using your fingers to show there are three and naming them while han watches, baffled. it’s not anything extraordinary but the way you gush about them, having taken the time to learn their names and be able to recognize them, makes lee know blush. for the rest of the trip, the dancer is shyly watching you out of the corner of his eye, heart beating fast in his chest.

☆ CHANGBIN

it’s a normal cloudy day, the wind making the fallen leaves twirl in the air, but you’re not too bothered by it, headphones on and music blasting in your ears. it was changbin’s idea to meet at the gym after his normal practice schedule, so that he could finally help you out while you stepped inside a gym for the first time in your life. you don’t think you have ever been more nervous for this, feeling as if everyone had their eyes fixed on your every movement. when you almost wanted to called it quits and run out of there, changbin entered the luxe room, waving to other jacked guys as he walked past them towards you. he was quick to grin at you, seeing your wary expression and patted your head. changbin knows you hate the gym and everything that could resemble a sport so he’s quick to reassure you, to tell you that you’re doing a good job and that he knows you can do it, making your already red face heat up even more. he shrugs off your stares as silent screams of distress, not wanting to get his hopes up and convince himself that you ogle his arms only because he’s showing you the right movement and not because his biceps are on full display. when the short but intense gym session is over and you’re all sweaty and aching all over, you let your head fall against his chest as you sit still on one of the benches. changbin’s heart beats loudly in his chest and he hopes you can’t hear it. he lets you take a two minute nap there, way too mesmerized by your sleeping figure to even dare wake you up, already feeling guilt creeping up at the thought of going to the gym daily with you, hands linked and shared kisses.

☆ HYUNJIN

hyunjin’s tired, legs feeling like jelly and muscles aching all over. he gulps down the plastic water bottle, sweat dripping down his temples and staining the collar of his tank top. his back is pressed against the floor-to-ceiling mirror and the fabric of his top sticks to his skin. the clock is slowly ticking, his heavy breathing echoing off the walls. when the door to the practice room opens, he doesn’t need to see to know who it is, preferring to keep his head low. your perfume fills the room and hyunjin regains his senses, eyes slowly blinking open to see you staring at him with a stern expression. he knows you don’t like it when he gets home late– he likes to tell himself you only worry about his whereabouts when it’s his turn to do the dishes. you squat down next to him, the back of your hand touching his burning forehead. you loudly scowl at him and he only chuckles tiredly in return, he’s way too out of it to notice the way your stare softens and your lips turn into a worrying pout before you’re back to your normal state. he lets you bring him home to your shared apartment, nodding along to whatever you’re saying, chewing him out for being so careless. the warmth of your apartment hits him like a truck and he grins, as if high. you continue to drag him with you, making sure he doesn’t bump into anything as you slowly help him take off his shoes. you tuck him in, starry eyes looking for any sign of discomfort on his face. he knows you only want what's best for him, that you genuinely care and worry about him. and that thought alone is enough for him to want to give you his full heart, silently calling after you as you close his bedroom door behind you. maybe next time you would hear his pleas, next time when he doesn’t have a burning fever.

☆ JISUNG

han realizes he loves you more than a simple friend during a hangout. it’s a friday evening and your friends’ weekly ‘movie date’. normally, han’s one of the happiest and loudest people during those few hours, but this time he’s quieter, a little isolated. you’re not the only one that noticed but he brushed it off as being tired, effectively but suspiciously convincing the others. you realize pretty fast it’s not because he’s tired when you notice his bouncing knee and fidgety fingers. han could feel you staring, teeth gnawing on the straw of his sugar-filled drink. but then he looks down at the floor, trying to avoid the incoming headache, and he can feel the lack of eyes on him. he only realizes you’re next to him when your hand touches his, your fingers coming to squeeze and entangle with his on your lap, thumb rubbing circles on his skin. you send him a reassuring smile, one full of comfort and love, and suddenly jisung feels warm. it’s a weird feeling but not unpleasant and when you lay your head on his shoulder and start to hum one of his favorite songs, he knows that the butterflies in his stomach are going to be difficult to get rid of.

☆ FELIX

he realizes it when he's baking with you. in the middle of making some cookies, he suddenly sneezes and sends flour flying everywhere. on your face, clothes and kitchen counters and walls. the flour hangs in the air for a few seconds before it drops down to the floor in a very slow and dramatic way. there's an awkward silence for a few seconds and he thinks you are going to scold him or be pissed at him for making a mess but instead, you throw your head back and laugh.

you laugh so hard it echoes through the room as you clutch your stomach, gripping onto the counter tightly as you try to stand up straight. felix is baffled and that's when you take action, grabbing a handful of the white powder and throwing it directly on him before running around the counter, grabbing another handful of flour to defend yourself.

he watches in awe as you slightly but excitedly jump up and down and prepare yourself for his attack. a blush creeps up on his cheeks and his heart beats in his chest like it's on fire. that's when he knows he loves you. he realizes it when you are covered in flour but smilling nonetheless. in that moment, felix knows that he fell deeply and inevitably in love with you.

☆ SEUNGMIN

seungmin sighs again, for the sixth time since you forced your way into his room ten minutes prior. you continue to ignore him as he spins on his desk chair, watching you flip through his old middle school photobook from a few feet away. you’re laying down comfortably on your stomach on his bed, feet linked together and swinging in the air as you let out breathy giggles every few seconds. normally, seungmin would already have tried to rip the photobook from your arms, but you had been particularly nice to him the day prior– bringing him the extra brownies felix helped you make– so he thinks that letting you get your way for an hour or two won’t hurt his ego too much. your phone buzzes from his bedside table but you don’t move to grab it, leaving the boy curious. it buzzes again and when you do grab it this time, you put it down a second later, now on mute. seungmin stares at you, a puzzled look on his face before you finally turn to him, probing him to ask why you didn’t reply. you only give him a smile, one so sweet that his heart skips a beat. you voice is soft, words rolling off your tongue. “i prefer to be with you, the others can wait.” suddenly seungmin’s head is spinning, at a loss for words. he doesn’t know what’s happening to him, why he’s suddenly so reactive to every detail. it’s a weird feeling, really, but he lets himself fall into it, the feeling of being loved and loving so new and daring that he can’t get enough of it.

☆ JEONGIN

jeongin isn’t too sure why he’s even there, silently watching from his seat on the couch as you’re running around their dorm, going back and forth between the bathroom, the hallway and the bedroom your bag is in. all his friends are laughing and joking around, poking fun at you and your panicked and disheveled appearance. you’re stressing, smiling nervously when bangchan asks you if you’re ready. jeongin has never seen you so giddy but so stressed at the same time, noticing how you’re picking at your nails and playing with the strap of your bag. you’re pretty too, he thinks. a scowl takes over his face, he never really realized how pretty you were, usually the thought of finding you attractive never even entered his mind. he gets up and walks over to you, waiting for you to notice him. in your nervous state you turn towards him, colored lips in a tight line. he takes a step forward and his hand hovers over the side of your face until you nod, allowing him to brush the few strands of hair out of your face. he pushes them behind your ears, softly patting your head and massaging your temples. you instantly relax and he can’t help but smile. when you’re out the door, with chan following behind you, car keys in hand, jeongin feels his face heat up, butterflies flying free in his stomach. he doesn’t really register what his friends say, replaying the image of you waving them goodbye with the prettiest smile he’s ever seen. the boy lets himself drown in the cushions of the couch, sighing and an upcoming headache already on its way. if only he had complimented you then, maybe you would have realized his words were laced with newly discovered love and only maybe then you wouldn’t have walked out the door, yelling at your older brother to hurry up so you wouldn’t be late to your date.

taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @raevyng @yoonzin0 @pointlessapple @yyx2 @yeokill

please do not copy, steal or repost any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

[armpittae]

tenderness | chapter 8: all fall down

[noun] /ˈtendərnəs/

1. the quality of being gentle, kind, or loving

2. the feeling of pain, aching, or soreness

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: in a world where soulmates are rare and precious, you don’t know why the universe has decided to give you one. you never could have imagined that they would be an idol, and one that you worked with at that, or the challenges that would arise from your bond.

chapter word count: 4.1k

chapter warnings: injury, blood, sasaeng fans

a/n: really wanted to get this chapter out today, so i'm not super happy with it. might end up editing the ending later haha

i am not a doctor and i did minimal research on anything medical related

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter | read it on ao3

Over the past few years, Chan has grown relatively used to large crowds. At concerts and events, he’s excited to have the chance to see so many faces and hear their cheers. So when their security team warns them that the airport is much busier than usual and to take extra care about sticking together, he takes it in stride and doesn’t think too much of it. The group is in varying states of tiredness and everyone just wants to get home. Airport crowds are a nuisance, but nothing new. 

They file out of the plane and line up before they reach the public area. Seungmin is leading the way, Chan is last as usual, and Jisung is sandwiched between Changbin and Minho near the back. A few staff pad the front and back of the line while security surrounds the whole group.

The second that the doors open, they’re subjected to the roar of the crowd that gets even louder when they spot them. Even with headphones in, Chan blanches at the sudden increase in noise and is thankful that his mask probably covered most of his reaction. It seems that the amount of people that usually greet them at the airport has more than doubled and they’re all desperate for an interaction. It's a cacophony of fans calling out their names, love declarations, and screams that make it hard to think.

Ahead of him, the kids are urged forward, but he can barely see them through the bright pops of camera flashes and the sea of bodies pushing at them. The bodyguard closest to Chan rests a hand on his shoulder casually, but his grip is like steel, both guiding him and making sure that they don’t get separated. 

Y/n must also be subjected to the ebb and flow of the crowd as she runs straight into Chan at one point, sparking the Charge between them momentarily. Chan looks back to make sure that she’s okay, but she just gestures for him to keep going, anything she might be trying to say being drowned out by the screams and hidden by the mask that she’s wearing. Knowing that he's definitely being filmed, Chan keeps his head down and swallows his concern. The last thing he wants is rumours that might involve Y/n or put any sort of extra attention on her.

The crowd reaches a fever pitch, and multiple cries for Jisung prompts Chan to look up again to search for him. When he finally manages to spot him, it becomes clear that he’s being helped up from the ground. Chan can’t tell if it’s a result of stumbling from poor visibility or an overzealous push from fans, but he attempts to tamp down the simmering anger that he feels building in his gut. He hates that he can't be there to protect Jisung and calm him down. Regardless of the reason that he fell, this wouldn't have happened if they were given more space. They're grateful for their fans, but this is too much.

They need to get out of here and now.

The screaming is deafening now and seems to be coming from all directions. He thinks he can hear security yelling directions, but it’s hard to decipher what they’re saying and who they’re saying it to. With the increased noise comes more pressure as people jockey for a closer position, mercilessly jostling other bodies out of the way. Chan tries to ignore it all, solely focused on getting everyone into the vans waiting for them and making sure they’re unharmed. 

The crowd surges forward and they're finally given the space that they need to reach the doors and spill out onto the outdoor concourse. From there it's only a short distance to where a manager is shepherding them into the idling vans. 

They had lined up based on dorms, so Changbin basically hauls Jisung into the van with Hyunjin, while Minho had ushers all of the younger members into their vehicle with no time wasted trying to organise further.

Chan collapses into his seat and everyone in the van seems to let out a sigh of relief the second that the door closes, sealing them away from the frenzy and most of the noise. There's a brief moment to double check that all the members are present before they pull away from the curb.

Chan twists around to confirm there are no injuries. Other than some bruises and scratches on their arms, they're all relatively unharmed, but definitely rattled. Their fans are generally well behaved and respectful of personal space, so this type of encounter is unsettling, but a good reminder to stay vigilant. They're lucky that things didn't escalate to a point where somebody got seriously hurt, but that might not be the case next time. Chan makes a mental note to request some sort of increased security or additional protective measures to guarantee the safety of the members and all the fans. 

Normally, they would spread out in the van to give each other as much space as possible, but today, Jisung stays practically squished between Hyunjin and Changbin who have their arms wrapped around him and are trying their best to soothe him. 

Knowing there’s nothing he can do from where he’s sitting, Chan opts for pulling out his phone and shooting Y/n a quick text. He wasn’t able to catch a glimpse of her after he noticed Jisung fell and has no clue how much she did or didn’t see. He doesn’t want her worrying about their safety.

[5:17 pm - sent]

Sorry that was more chaotic than usual haha

Wasn’t expecting so many people to be there...

We’re all fine even if it looked crazy... 

Hope everything is okay on your side and see you at the dorms later

He keeps the messages succinct, knowing that Y/n likely won’t have a chance to read his message until later. Just like with their regular schedules, the staff are all brought back to the company and sometimes she gets held back to finish something or go out for food or drinks. He’s hoping that the crowds died down after they left to make it easier to haul all the luggage and equipment away. 

He taps out another message to Minho to reassure him that everyone with him is physically okay, just unnerved and receives a similar response. They agree to all go to the 3RACHA+Hyunjin dorms instead of splitting up, sensing that everyone would feel a bit better if they stuck together for the time being. Relieved, he drops his phone into his backpack and settles into his seat. Without the rush of adrenaline from the airport and the high from the concerts, he can feel how exhausted his body is. It's worse than usual, a bone deep tiredness that doesn’t feel like it’ll be improved no matter how much he sleeps.

It’s the Charge, or lack thereof, he realises. The past few days have been such a blur of travelling and concerts that he hadn’t noticed that he’s barely spent any time with Y/n. He resolves to make up for it this week. They have a bit of a break before the next leg of their tour continues and while Chan has a lot that he wants to finish during that period, he can afford to set aside a few extra hours for Charging. Although he knows that he can probably power through with this level of energy- he’s done it in the past- he feels guilty thinking that it would mean Y/n has to do the same.

When they make it back to the dorms, he calls dibs on the shower, intent on burrowing into his bed the second that he’s cleaned off all the airplane grime. He feels significantly better after washing up and changing into clean clothes, so he wanders towards the kitchen to try to eat something as he waits for Y/n to get back. The second that he enters the living room, all conversations cut off and the members turn to look at him with grave expressions. 

Immediately, he’s on edge again and all the tension from earlier is back.

“Is everything okay?” he asks cautiously. It’s clear that Jisung, Felix, and Jeongin are crying and the rest of the members are suspiciously teary-eyed, other than Minho who just looks murderous. “Did something happen?”

He sits beside Felix, who’s on the couch closest to him and puts an arm around him. Felix instantly inches closer, buries his face into Chan’s neck, and starts sobbing freely, tears soaking into the front of Chan’s shirt and making him panic more. Chan surreptitiously pats him down, searching for some sort of injury, but finds nothing. It makes him feel better and worse at the same time. 

“We- Yonghwan called-” Changbin finally says. The words come out roughly, like it had been a struggle to get them out. “He said-” The tears that he’s been holding back finally come out and he can’t finish his sentence, wiping at his face roughly.

“What?” Chan demands, when nobody continues Changbin’s explanation. He hates this feeling of being in the dark, he wants to know what has made everyone this upset and what he can do to fix it.

“It’s Y/n.” Felix’s voice is rough and even deeper than usual from crying, Chan can feel it against his skin more than he can hear it. “Hyung…”

Chan didn’t think that his stomach could feel worse, but it seems to twist into a tighter knot at Felix’s words. On autopilot, he continues to rub Felix’s back, but his hands are now feeling weak and he’s glad that he’s already sitting. It takes a couple of deep breaths, but eventually Felix is able to calm down enough to speak again.

“Hyung… Y/n- There was a sasaeng… At the airport.” 

Everything seems to stop.

His mind, which was previously racing, can’t seem to process anything anymore and the next few moments feel like a dream or, more accurately, a nightmare. Felix is crying earnestly again and Chan vaguely thinks that he should be too, but instead he’s numb, detached from his emotions, unmoored. He’s aware of someone grabbing his bag and putting it into his hands, helping him into his shoes, and leading him into the lobby of their building, but it feels like his mind is no longer connected to his body. He doesn’t even remember when he put on the beanie or mask that he’s currently wearing.

He desperately wants this to be a nightmare, that someone will shake him awake and he’ll find out that he accidentally fell asleep the second he got home.

He’s jolted back to reality by a voice calling his name. It’s Felix, who is also holding onto both his shoulders. He’s stopped crying as hard, but unshed tears still glitter in his eyes and there are teartracks running down his face. It’s clear that he’s trying hard to keep himself together for Chan’s sake.

“Hyung, the car is here. Are you going to be okay going by yourself?”

“Yes,” he hears himself say. His voice sounds strange, void of emotion. He knows that he has to be okay, that really, there’s no choice because the chance of being recognised would be much higher if he goes with anyone other than staff. He has to be okay, for Y/n.

“Okay. Yonghwan-hyung is going to take you to the hospital.”

“Okay.” Chan starts to walk away.

“Hyung,” Felix calls out, voice still hoarse with emotion. “Promise me you won’t go on Twitter?”

“What? Why? I-”

“Just promise. Okay?”

“I promise.”

But it festers inside of him, not knowing what’s going on, not really. Yonghwan has barely spoken, other than a couple words to guide him into the car and reassure him that they were going to get to the hospital as fast as possible. 

After 20 minutes of being stuck in traffic, Chan takes out his phone and unlocks it. It’s clogged with notifications from various staff members, but they’re from half an hour ago and are ambiguous, just telling him to call different people. He swipes everything away without replying and opens up Naver with the intention to look up how far away they are from the hospital. Before he can get that far, he’s distracted by the trending search terms. 

‘Stray Kids,’ ‘Incheon Airport,’ and ‘Sasaeng’ are all in the top 10. His finger hovers over each one for a moment, before locking his phone. He doesn’t know if he wants to read an impersonal or speculative article that might overdramatise what happened.

He only lasts another minute before he reaches for his phone again. Even though he can still hear Felix’s voice warning him to avoid it, he can’t help but open the Twitter app. It’s probably going to be worse than reading articles, but it’s killing him to have so little information.

He needs to know what happened.

His Twitter timeline is pandemonium. There’s a mixture of tweets that can be separated into three different categories. The first are ones demanding that videos and photos be taken down, that post links to accounts calling that they be blocked, and warnings to avoid retweeting information. They’re mostly vague and the replies are littered with people asking what happened. Chan scours through them briefly, but all questions are met with ‘DM me’ or something similar.

The second is a set of hashtags trending, #thankyouskijigi, #prayforskijigii, that talk about how grateful they are that Y/n was there to protect Chan and general well-wishes for a quick recovery. This only heightens Chan’s anxiety. He’s not sure why he’s being named specifically, but nothing he can think of is good. Either way, it feels wrong to see that Y/n is being praised for being injured instead of Chan.

The last is what Chan is really searching for. Any photos or videos that he can find of the incident. He has to sift through a number of deleted posts and broken links. There’s a few that are easy to find, but they were clearly taken in the midst of the chaos and the blurriness means that it’s hard to see any details.

There’s an awful clip that Chan somehow manages to find. He’s thankful that he records his screen while watching it because when he clicks to see the replies, the video has already been either deleted by the poster or removed by Twitter. Whoever is filming it has unsteady hands, but they’re close enough that you can still see everything. Y/n is lying curled up on the ground clutching her stomach, the sasaeng nowhere in sight. Chan still can’t tell what kind of injury Y/n has, until she props herself up a bit more and peels back the baggy sweatshirt that she’s wearing to expose her abdomen more.

It looks bad. There’s blood and there’s lots of it.

The light-coloured shirt she’s wearing underneath makes the blood that’s seeping into it obvious in a way that the dark hoodie concealed. The splotch is alarmingly large and seems to be expanding every second even with Y/n’s hand pressed tightly against where the wound must be. It spills onto the floor now that the hoodie isn’t soaking it up anymore. The second that the injury is revealed, the crowd panics. Half the people recoil, while the other half rush forward.

The filmer is one of the latter, dropping their phone to their side so that you can’t see anything, but not stopping the recording. At first, Chan doesn’t think there’s anything else to the video. The audio keeps peaking, overwhelmed by the screaming, but in the last few seconds, he can suddenly make out Y/n’s voice. It’s surprisingly stable, though tight with pain.

“-please send medical services to Incheon Airport? At the terminal 2 arrival hall. There’s a young female who has been stabbed.” There’s a series of pauses and moments where Y/n continues to talk. She's obviously answering questions by the person on the other end of the phone. "I'm- she's conscious, yes… Yes, lucid… In the abdomen… Two times…”

The video ends abruptly and Chan’s left staring at his own face reflecting against his phone’s dark screen. 

He feels sick. 

He feels nothing.

He-

He closes the video and searches for another.

Pictures, videos, accounts from people who were at the airport, he saves everything. He continues frantically combing through as many links and tweets that he can, especially if they have descriptions of the sasaeng or capture her face clearly.

The best- or maybe the worst, based on the way that it makes Chan’s stomach drop- video is a livestream that somehow hasn’t been deleted or edited yet. It was taken by a fan who seems to be on a stepladder or something that provides them some extra height although if they’re further away. The video is an hour long, but Chan scans through the first section that’s from before they had arrived and starts to play when he first sees Seungmin appear.

This new angle makes it obvious how intentional everything was. There’s a distinct moment when the crowd that’s offscreen shifts, likely reacting to Jisung’s fall, and a corresponding ripple through the rest of the crowd. Chan remembers that, the sudden push as everyone wanted to see what was happening and a renewed effort from the security team to get them outside.

There’s a brief second when there’s a gap between the security team that’s just barely big enough for the sasaeng to slip through unnoticed. The first time he watches the video, he almost misses it. She heads directly towards Chan, partially aided by the general movement of the crowd, and it sends shivers down his back to know how close she was to him without him knowing. With nondescript clothes, a lack of a camera, and a mask covering the lower half of her face, she almost blends into the rest of the staff members. 

Before she can reach Chan, she’s intercepted by Y/n who looks like she’s aware of the sasaeng’s presence based on the purposeful step that positions her right in between the sasaeng and Chan. The sasaeng has no time to react and the two of them crash into each other and tumble to the ground.

After that, the video gets too shaky to see what’s happening and cuts off before showing anything else.

“Chan-ssi!” Yonghwan’s voice takes Chan’s attention away from his phone. When he looks up, he can see that the car is idling at the side entrance of the hospital that he normally uses. “Did you hear me?”

“Uhm.”

“Just go in and talk to the reception, tell them you’re looking for Y/n-ssi. They’ll take you to her. I have to go park the car and then I’ll join you.”

—

The person that helps Chan at the front desk seems to be familiar with Y/n's case right when he mentions her name. Her posture straightens and she checks Chan's ID to confirm that he's her soulmate before leading him away, pressing buttons on a pager as she does so. She walks briskly and stops in front of a closed door, sliding it open and motioning for him to enter before heading towards the nurses' station.

Chan steps into the room and when he sees Y/n, it feels like he’s been punched in the gut. He physically recoils, shoulder hitting the door frame as he takes a step back.

She looks so small, in the middle of the bed, hooked up to a number of IV’s, other tubes, and monitoring equipment. Her face is pale, more so than usual, and her eyes are closed. 

For one awful moment, all Chan can think is that she looks dead. 

He slowly approaches Y/n’s side and gingerly rests his hand on her exposed arm, mindful of all the tubes and cords that she’s connected to. The Charge has never felt so reassuring, a steady transfer of energy that reminds Chan that she’s still alive. The nurse excuses herself, but Chan barely notices, too focused on Y/n and the constant drone of the heart rate monitor.

He startles when the doctor enters the room.

“Ah, you are Y/n-nim’s soulmate?” he asks. When Chan confirms, he brightens. “Perfect! Before anything, let’s get you up on the bed with her so that you can Charge properly.”

The doctor helps Chan manoeuvre himself so that he’s curled around Y/n. He shrugs off his hoodie so that he’s just left with his t-shirt and shorts to match Y/n so that they can have as much direct contact as possible. Chan knows he usually runs hotter than most people, but Y/n’s skin is colder than usual, even with the warmth of the Charge between them.

Yonghwan appears partway through the doctor’s explanation of Y/n’s injuries which is probably for the better because other than confirming that she’s stable for now, he hasn’t been able to concentrate. Instead, he holds onto Y/n’s hand, the one that doesn’t have an IV line in it, and intertwines their fingers. He’s always marvelled at the size difference between their hands.

The moment Y/n's heartbeat picks up from the steady rhythm that Chan has now gotten used to, his seems to do the same. It’s close to sunrise, but Chan hasn’t even come close to falling asleep. The time has somehow both inched by, stretched out like pulling taffy, and passed in the blink of an eye. Embarrassingly, he didn’t even notice when the doctor, then later Yonghwan, left the room. Only realising when he noticed the lights dimming automatically when visiting hours ended.

He’s alternated between doom scrolling on social media, texting the group chat since most of the boys are still awake as well, and waiting for any sort of updates from Yonghwan or JYPE. He’s restless, but has done his best to barely move, not wanting to disturb Y/n or any of the equipment she’s hooked up to. 

She comes to slowly and Chan feels like he can barely breathe, chest tight with anticipation of her regaining consciousness. Her eyes flutter open and she squints, even though the lights have been dimmed almost all the way down.

He helps incline the bed slightly, lets her have the tiniest sip of water, just enough to wet her mouth, then gives her a little bit more once he knows she won't choke.

He can tell the second she's awake enough to recognise his presence. Her eyes widen and her heart rate speeds up. She tries to lever herself up, but Chan presses a hand onto her shoulder, keeping herself in place. She tries to put a hand on his arm and her eyes scan his form.

"Stay still, you're hurt," he chides gently when she makes a questioning noise.

"Chan?” she gets out.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“You’re safe?”

Chan doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry at her concern. She's on some strong drugs and is still recovering from anaesthesia, it's obvious from the slight haze in her eyes, her sluggish movements, and the difficulty she seems to have putting words to her thoughts. Yet her first thoughts are about him.

"Yes, I'm safe. The rest of the boys are safe. They’re all at home," he reassures her. She doesn't seem to believe him, reaching for him again agitatedly.

“Were you hurt?” 

“Y/n, it’s okay. Everything is okay, I’m not hurt.” Chan takes Y/n’s hand in his again, pressing it against his chest so that she can feel his heartbeat. “Can you feel that? You protected me."

At that Y/n finally calms, settling back against her pillow. Before he can say anything else, she’s already drifted off again. With his free hand, Chan smooths out the hairs that frame her face and she subconsciously leans into his touch. Unable to help himself, he presses a careful kiss to her forehead.

He stares at her peaceful looking face, a mixture of guilt, fear, and worry churning in his stomach. He can’t believe that he was so close to losing her and he knows that he’ll do everything in his power to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.

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[armpittae]

texts with changbin

notes: anon! i finally got inspo to do 10 texts! this is for you!

©️ hotteoki | do not repost

hehe

[armpittae]

PLS do soft text with bf chan 🫶🫶

notes: this wasn't very soft rip so i added a few more some hours later HAHA don't look at the times

©️ hotteoki | do not repost

[armpittae]

IVE NEVER CLICKED ON SOMETHING SO FAST

this was literally the cutest thing I’ve ever read. the way the language is spoken and all the nuances are so fun and apparently my kryptonite??? 😭 I can’t tell you how much this made my day. I love everything about this 💕

tenderness | bonus scene: banmal

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: the first time you call chan, 'oppa.'

this is a bonus scene taking place in the tenderness universe, but you don't have to have read tenderness to read this fic! just know that the main character is currently a manager for stray kids. she's also chan's soulmate, which explains why she lives in the dorms with him.

chapter word count: 1.6k

warnings: none!

a/n: a bit of fluff was requested by one of the readers on ao3. the term 'banmal' is used to describe informal speech in korean and is usually for casual conversation between friends, relatives, or people younger than you. i can't properly demonstrate the way that the main character's speech level changes since speech levels don't exist the same way in english. i only modified the honorifics that y/n uses to address the members. this was my first time writing fluff, it was surprisingly fun!

tenderness masterlist | read it on ao3

“Noona?” You and Jisung are lounging in the living room after a schedule that miraculously ended early. You're not sure where the other guys are and you don't really care, it's nice to have one on one time with Jisung. 

“Hm?” You drag your eyes away from the drama that the two of you have been half heartedly been watching to find him deep in thought.

“You called me Jisung-ssi earlier. You always do that. Why?”

“Ah,” you say, flustered. “It just still feels weird to talk to you guys informally. I don’t want anybody to get the wrong idea.”

“But you don’t call Felix, Felix-ssi! I’ve even heard you call him Lixie before! Why is he special?” Jisung whines.

“It’s different!” you defend yourself. “We talk in English mostly. There’s not really any honorifics or levels of speech. It’d be weirder if I did speak formally to him.”

“Sounds like an excuse, but okay. What do you call Channie-hyung?” he asks with a particular gleam in his eyes.

“Chan-ssi,” you say matter-of-factly. You have to bite back a laugh at the disappointed noise he makes at your response.

“Minho-hyung?”

“Minho-ssi.”

“Changbinnie-hyung?”

“Changbin-ssi,” you reply dutifully.

“You guys are the same age! It doesn’t make sense!” he groans.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting,” you say, amused. “I talk to all of you the same.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re hopeless.” He shakes his head dramatically. “You’re soulmates with Channie-hyung! That means you’re basically family to all of us. Listen, at work? Sure, fine, you can be all polite and formal, I get it. But in the dorms?”

“Jisu-”

“Here, the guys are coming over for dinner tonight. Please please please, can you call Minho-hyung oppa to his face?”

“What? No!” you say immediately.

“Pleaseee,” he draws out the word playfully. He shuffles closer and takes your hands in his, pouting exaggeratedly. “Just once! I just want to see his reaction! I know that all of us have told you at one point to speak to us comfortably. He wouldn’t get mad at you, I promise!”

“I’m not going to do it,” you laugh, trying to disentangle your hands.

“You can tell him that I forced you to! I’ll volunteer to clean the dishes after dinner! I’ll be better about cleaning the bathroom! I’ll buy you bubble tea for a week! I’ll buy you new shoes! I’ll stop changing my mind a million times when we’re trying to decide what to order during schedules! I'll write you a song! Please please please, Y/n-noona!”

“I-” you falter. Jisung immediately brightens, his mouth curves into a heart-shaped smile. “Fine. Only because you look so cute.”

Jisung cheers, jumping up and punching the air with his fists.

“You’re the best!!”

“I’m going to blame you for it,” you warn.

“Of course. Even if hyung kills me, it’ll be worth it in the moment.” He beams.

—

At dinner, Jisung sits to your left and every few minutes, he nudges your leg in an attempt to prompt you into speaking. You ignore it, continuing to eat as if nothing is happening. Yes, you agreed to follow along with Jisung’s silly idea, but you still want it to happen naturally, otherwise it would be even more out of place. As much as this is kind of a joke, it is starting to feel a bit strange always using polite speech and you're curious to see how everyone will react.

Opportunity strikes when you stretch to grab one of the side dishes that happen to be in front of Minho. You can't quite reach it sitting, but before you can stand, Minho picks up one of the serving utensils and picks out the best piece, placing it into your bowl. He serves himself next, but you know it's just to play off his kind gesture. You're genuinely grateful for his thoughtfulness.

“Thank you, Minho-oppa,” you say, making sure to keep your voice casual.

Everyone freezes. Minho is good at maintaining his nonchalant expression, but his ears betray him by slowly turning red. Your cheeks are flushed to match and even without looking, you can tell the rest of the boys are stunned. It takes a great effort on your part to not turn to glance at Chan, although you can practically feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jeongin elbow Hyunjin in the stomach and mouth "Oppa?" in disbelief.

Finally, Minho recovers enough to clear his throat loudly and say, "it's nothing, I was going to get some anyway."

Jisung, on the other hand, is grinning like an idiot.

“Hyung! You should have seen your reaction, I wish I had taken a picture!” He cries out, laughing loudly.

“What reaction?” Minho tries to play it off.

“Hyung, your ears.” Hyunjin tugs on one teasingly, then instantly apologises and cowers when Minho turns to glare at him.

"Call me oppa too, Y/n!" Changbin says excitedly, standing up to serve you from the dish closest to him.

"We're the same age, Changbin-ah, I'm not going to call you oppa," you tease. He just laughs, delighted to be on the receiving end of your more casual speech.

“If Y/n calls Minho-hyung oppa, does that mean she needs to call Chan-hyung ajhussi?” Seungmin pipes up. Across the table, Hyunjin dissolves into laughter at the thought.

—

Chan doesn’t mention it all evening, even though the boys continue to tease Minho, calling him ‘oppa’ instead of ‘hyung’ when they address him and taking every opportunity to call Chan ‘ajhussi’. They’ve both given out countless headlocks in revenge, but it’s all in good humour. Eventually, Minho, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin head home, and the rest of the boys drift off into their own rooms.

After washing up, you join Chan in his room, not wanting to hog the bathroom for any longer than required. He’s already set to sleep and had been sitting in bed scrolling on his phone until you had walked in. Through the reflection of the little mirror that you’re using to do your skincare routine, you can see that he’s watching you.

“You know,” he says steadily. “You can- you can call me that too, if you want.” You pause at the carefully worded request. You make eye contact with him through the mirror and watch as the tips of his ears and the tops of his cheeks slowly pinkens.

“Call you what?” you ask, deliberately playing oblivious.

“You know,” he flounders.

“Do I?" you wonder, tapping a finger to your lips teasingly.

“I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable, I just thought that if you were going to talk to the boys more casually then you can do the same. You’re my soulmate, things don’t have to be so formal all the time.  I don’t want to force you to do anything, but I wouldn’t mind, at all! I know Jisung probably was the one to get you to say that to Minho and it was really funny to see his reaction. Uhm. I mean, you can really call me anything that you want! Chan-ssi. Chan-oppa. Chan-ah, actually no that’s kind of weird maybe not that one. Uh if it makes it less weird you can use my English name too! Chris, Christopher, whatever,” he trails off, then buries his face in his hands with a groan. “Sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

You're finished your skincare routine so you put away all the containers and turn in your seat so that you're fully facing him. You take a second to collect yourself, then pitch your voice so it's small and cutesy, a far cry from how you normally talk.

"Oppa," you test. His eyes immediately shoot up to meet yours, cheeks darkening more than they had before. "Do you want me to call you Channie-oppa?" You tilt your head to one side and widen your eyes.

"Argh.” This time, he turns to smash his face in his pillow to hide himself, pulling the blanket over his head for good measure.

"Channie-oppa, why are you hiding? I thought this is what you wanted." You lightly tug at the blanket, but he holds it tight, shaking his head vigorously. You've never been the type to perform aegyo, but it's surprisingly fun and you can't deny that you're enjoying Chan's reaction. After another minute, he pokes his head out looking a bit sheepish.

“You are really cute when you say that,” he admits. “And I really like to hear that you feel comfortable using banmal with us.”

“I am comfortable with everyone, I have for a while,” you say. “And you’re also really cute when I call you oppa.”

His eyes crinkle as he smiles and you take the opportunity to lean forward and poke one of the dimples that appear. In retaliation, he grips the corners of the blanket and collects you in his arms, effectively swallowing you in the mess of fabric. He pulls you so that you lose balance and fall onto the bed, cradled in his arms. You feel so safe in his embrace and the both of you momentarily fall silent.

“Okay, I think we should sleep now,” Chan says eventually. “Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night… Channie-Oppa,” you respond.

Even though you can’t see Chan in the dark, you know that he’s smiling. It’s enough that you drift off to sleep with a smile as well.

tenderness masterlist | read it on ao3

[armpittae]

ten things han jisung says when he thinks you’re asleep — fluff, established relationship, little angst

chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | HAN | felix | seungmin | jeongin

that marks the end of this series!

one. there's this song that's been stuck in my head for days now. it's called love me harder by the woodz. i think you'll really like it too. i think i can't stop listening to it because it reminds me of you. there's a line that goes, 'everyday in my head, i think you're the one', and i always find myself thinking about you. i really think you're the one for me, pretty girl. i'll find a time to tell you this when you're awake. i'm just nervous i'll scare you away if you found out just how much i love you.

two. i still think about the first time you ever kissed me. i don't think i'll ever forget about it. ah, you have me wrapped up around your finger, darling.

three. lee know makes fun of me because i've been watching a lot of romance anime lately. he's just jealous because i have someone as lovely as you to think about when we watch them together.

four. thank you for being exactly the way that you are and for giving me a love i've needed my whole life.

five. i don't think my jokes are very funny. i said the same joke i told you last night to the boys today, but they didn't laugh as hard as you did. seungmin even made fun of me. thank you for laughing at all my jokes. even when they aren't funny. seeing you smile is enough of an accomplishment for me.

six. ah, i can't believe i'm with the girl i've been in love with for forever in college. someone pinch me, actually let me pinch myse—ouch. okay, this is real. this is real. oh my god, this is real, and i'm in love with you and you're in love with me. i love you. i'm completely, endlessly, madly in love with you. i can't believe you're actually here and sleeping next to me. i'm not dreaming this up, not in the way i did before. this is real. wow.

seven. you know, there were so many times i thought of giving up. but, you believing in me was enough reason why i didn't stop even when i lost hope sometimes. thank you for believing in me. you make me strong.

eight. it's getting bad again. i'm scared you'll eventually see me the way that i see myself, and you'll end up leaving.

nine. you're my person, did you know? in that show you keep talking about. what was it, grey's anatomy? i can be your meredith, or the other one. i don't really know how this works because i haven't seen a single episode. i just listen to you when you rant about it. but you're my person. my favorite person, in fact.

ten. you make me feel so human.

[armpittae]

request. you falling asleep on skz’s chest and telling them you love them for the first time in your sleep

sorry it took me so long, anon! but here is the request u sent me

BANG CHAN

— it would be a little late in the night when you finally fall asleep, maybe around 11pm. it’s one of the rare days chan doesn’t allow himself to fall prisoner to another all-nighter (not that it ever bothered you, but chan’s been making effort in spending more time with you in the present instead of in his head)

— he definitely sleeps better with you, how could he not? with your head on his chest and your cheek a little mushed and your lips in a small pout and your ear to his heart. it’s perfect circumstances to sleep and your breathing is such a lullaby to him, and a reminder to ground himself in the present more to enjoy moments like these. you guys don’t get to cuddle often so it’s nice to take everything in when he can

— chan’s just on the verge of falling asleep when you say it and i think he wouldn’t be able to believe it first (talk about an instant alarm ?). he’d just blink down at you for a moment before the sweetest smile plasters on his face, the crinkled eyes until they almost disappear and lip biting type to stop himself from smiling too much

— his heart would just expand tenfold because you really are the person he sees himself with in the future and to hear those three words he’s almost told you a million times before leave your lips is just so reassuring and so beautiful to him; that you love him back, and he can’t wait to tell you in the morning

— when he’s finally processed it, he’d lean down to kiss you .. just every part of your face. but like, he’s so careful about it so you don’t wake up

— he falls asleep maybe half an hour later because all his life his mind has been running and running and running but with you in his arms, and those three words, he feels so safe that he allows his mind to rest. sometimes, it’s enough to just let his heart beat and love

❝ i love you. god, i love you too. i’ve been wanting to say it for so long now. ❞

LEE MINHO

— i think lee know’s def the type to know he’s in love first because it’s such a drastic difference to suddenly consider you in everything when he used to never do it before and he’s not oblivious to his feelings. like he’s the same but also so different ? little gestures of love would build up to his light bulb moment that he is so in love with you and he wants nothing more than to tell you but he doesn’t want to scare you off

— you stay over at his house when it happens. doing schoolwork? cramming for a paper? somewhere along those lines. you never notice the time when you’re with him and suddenly seconds turn into hours and it’s too late for you to commute home and lee know’s mom used their car so he can’t drive you home either. just proposes you stay over bc it’s not like you haven’t done it before

— you two always spend silence in comfort so he doesn’t know you’re asleep at first when you say those three words to him and the way you say it is so faint that he almost misses it. but he doesn’t. he hears it loud and clear

— his heart swells even more when he looks down to see your eyes closed and your mouth slightly parted and his response is just the fondest expression on his face. the most endearing smile and a finger brushing over your features because wow, this is the girl that snuck her way into his heart and unknowingly stole every part of him

— would brush your hair out of your face to see you properly before finally whispering that he loves you too. he’d say the three words the next morning.

— years later, he’d always brag he was the first to tell you that he loved you but you’d never know it was you. it’s a little secret he keeps to himself, and the moment is so intimate that it’s his only

❝ ah, (name). you’re all i’ve ever wanted, did you know? ❞

SEO CHANGBIN

— for changbin, i truly believe there is no moment of sudden realization. he’s well acquainted with love like i think he’s most in touch with that emotion. he feels so deeply and i think he learned most of that from his mother. he wouldn’t be afraid to embarrass himself in the name of love. in fact, he thinks it’s the greatest feeling on earth and it’s something you shouldn’t ever take for granted (i’m sorry, i’m a softie changbin enthusiast)

— everything is steady with him. loves you more day by day by day but he’s always known he’s been in love with you and nothing is ever overwhelming with him like it’s always so safe

— when you say it, he feels his heart beat 98383 times faster because what do you mean the person he’s so in love with loves him back ? like i feel like it just doesn’t cross his mind honestly. like he loves you and that’s that and he’s satisfied with loving you but suddenly his whole world just stops when he hears those words

— changbin would try to keep his position still though, even though he feels like jumping around and spinning you around in his arms but he just doesn’t want to shake you awake from your sleep

— spends the rest of the night thinking about you saying that you love him. there’s nothing more beautiful than the reciprocation of a feeling of love so great

❝ i love you, and that’s always been enough for me, but god does it feel so great to hear it from you. ❞

HWANG HYUNJIN

— he loves like in movies, in books, in art. despite being such a hopeless romantic though, everything is actually so new to him. it’s only with you that he experiences that shortness of breath, that jumble of words, that all-nighter because you can’t stop thinking about the person you love the most, and those damn butterflies

— even the first time you fall asleep on his chest, he freaks out. and he freaks out even after the 9183th time but who can blame him? he may look like such an expert, such a poet, such a man of love, but he’s nothing more than a boy who’s falling in love for the first time

— so, it is the 9184th time you’re asleep on his chest and he has a hand running through your hair when you mumble it in your sleep

— FREEZES. for maybe a good 5 mins? honestly it feels like forever because he really is frozen. and then, that music plays. the music when the love interest shows up on the screen in movies. it plays in his head and his heart is pouncing like crazy and it’s just such a moment to be in love

— pulls you closer when he finally recomposes himself and has the most lovesick smile on his face for maybe an hour before he allows himself to fall asleep because this is all he’s ever dreamed of

❝ you’re someone straight out of my dreams. ❞

HAN JISUNG

— to me, jisung feels a little reckless when he loves. but like, not in a bad way. it’s more like, he’s been careful his whole life and keeping on a guard because he values his silence and his comfort over everything else but god, when he loves? he jumps straight in. he jumps even without the guarantee of anyone catching him. when he loves, there is no doubt, no second guessing. he simply dives head first

— he’s falling again, falling and falling, it’s never ending. even as you fall asleep on his chest one afternoon after watching a movie together

— he JERKS the moment he hears you say it like actually just jerks from his place and accidentally wakes you up from your slumber

— you freak when you wake up thinking that something must’ve happened because he’s staring at you with wide eyes but at the same time, he’s also apologizing for accidentally waking you up. you’re just in the process of asking him about it when he cuts you off by kissing you

— when you kiss him back, there is nothing in his head but “wow, so this must be the feeling of being caught” because he’s finally landed safely in your arms after all that falling

— don’t be mistaken though, he’d fall over and over again because the feeling of having you catch him is so addicting

❝ (name), is this real? ❞

LEE FELIX

— oh felix, the sweetest boy who falls in love in the sweetest way. definitely is the type to see colors brighter and hear music louder and just have all his feelings amplify because of you. stars come together when you look at him and he feels himself revolving around you like he’s just !!! there is no explaining how deep this boy loves. it’ll be like fireworks, like earthquakes, like thunderstorms but it’ll also feel like breathing and the quiet patter of rain. you get every variant of love with him because he’s so adamant on showing you every part of him

— you two cuddle up to each other all the time. he loves skinship, he loves physical touch, he loves holding you and being held and kissing you and hugging you and everything that makes it feel like you’re close to him so he doesn’t question when you fall asleep on his chest

— he’s on his phone, probably taking a picture or video of you when you suddenly say it. there’s just instant tears in his eyes the moment the words leave your mouth. he cries because he’s overwhelmed that you feel the same way about him and he’s scolding himself for being so dramatic over it but also he seriously cannot stop crying like what have you done to him?

— smiles and cries and laughs and leans down to kiss your head over and over and over and you can only ask why his eyes are so red and puffed when you wake up and he wastes no time to tell you that he loves you. drops it immediately. he’s been waiting forever to say it anyway (actually, he’s said it quite a few times but only when he thinks you can’t hear)

— won’t stop saying it anymore like every hour is a good opportunity to tell you that he loves you

❝ i can’t get over how beautiful it is to love and it’s all thanks to you. ❞

KIM SEUNGMIN

— the peak best friends to lovers story. seungmin isn’t the type to throw the feeling of love around. he isn’t the type to fall in love quickly either. he falls in love in moments you spend as friends, but it also kind of takes him such a long time to admit it because he’s always rejected the idea of romance and the gentle emotions that come with it. he’s so used to teasing and tough love that he suddenly can’t function properly when he realizes he’s growing softer because of you

— seungmin holds out from saying ‘i love you’, mostly because it’s hard to rid the stubbornness he’s carried all his life, but don’t get me wrong. there are so many times when he’s almost said it but stopped himself before he could. maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to startle you either. it’s a scary feeling after all, and being his best friend, you know about all his flaws. how could you choose to love him despite it all?

— even so, he is still powerless to love. no one can ever go above the feeling no matter how hard he tries. when you say it in your sleep, he finally lets go of whatever he’s been holding on for so long. he’s ready to willingly admit he’s in love with you and has been for such a long time

— he runs a hand through your hair, just thinking of how comforting it is to be with you, of how you make him smile without even having to be there with him. just the thought of you makes him so happy and it’s infuriating because why does losing to love feel so much like winning instead? is it because it’s you he’s falling in love with?

— would ask you if you’re sure because he’s someone that values sureness, honesty, and just Purpose. he loves on purpose and he wants to make sure you love him by your own choice too. he’s always chosen to take every step closer to you all his life

❝ do you really mean that? please mean it. ❞

YANG JEONGIN

— time always slows when you’re with him. he also gives me romance between friends because like seungmin, he’s not the type to take love lightly. he only ever says the three words in important moments. he never wants to just throw those words around because romance is so important to him, and he’s always been the one to seek for it because it’s so beautiful

— when he meets you, he just thinks, so this is what love is. he understands now why people tell stories about it, why it’s subject to so many songs. he understands when he looks in your eyes

— it’s an afternoon of teasing where your eyes meet and you just double in laughter because whatever the hell you’re talking about is so funny to only the two of you. the boys will never understand the language you’ve crafted for yourselves

— you fall asleep after having played games and ran around and teased each other all afternoon and it’s in his arms while the two of you are watching a movie

— when you say it, he falls silent. he closes his eyes and crosses his fingers and prays he isn’t just dreaming this up, might pinch himself even because it’s just so unreal to him that you love him like he might be the Foolish silly type but when he loves, he really does give it his all

— you wake up at one of the louder scenes of the movies and you’re like ??? why is jeongin staring at you like that so you’re like stop staring .. but he kind of just grins really LOVESICK and you’re like oh my god what is happening. he’s looking at you different and his eyes are softer

— with a yank of your shirt, he kisses you and mumbles how much he loves you against your lips

❝ i love you. and i will choose to love you everytime. ❞

[armpittae]

a snip from a seungmin wip 👀

[armpittae]

hey this fic is now my favorite fic

I now live inside this fic thank you

Invisible thread

pairing : minho x reader

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

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

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

word count : 20k

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

You have always been first in your class.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

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

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

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

"I have an idea."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

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

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

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

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

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

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

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

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

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

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

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

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

"And right now, how do you feel?"

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

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

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

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

"I do too."

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

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

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

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

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

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

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

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

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

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

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

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

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

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

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

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

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

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

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

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

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

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

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

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

"What's there to miss?"

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

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

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

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

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

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

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

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

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

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ll ask her."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I only tell my friends."

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

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

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

[armpittae]

stray kids and their fav ways to show affection 

pairing: stray kids members x reader (gender neutral)

type: scenario 

summary: the skz members and their fav way to so you they love you

warnings: none. pure fluff

a/n: please read info before requesting

masterlist | info

—————————

chan- this face… thing? i really don’t know how to describe it but he kinda just puts his face into yours especially when you’re not giving him the attention he needs or just to pester you in a cute way. it’s usually followed up with a “ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ” (ex. here) but he also does this like into your cheek followed by kisses. there really is no such thing as personal space with chris sometimes

minho- love taps. specifically to your bum but it’s usually to your bum or thigh. lino ass chaser pretty much every time you or he passes by. nothing ever hard or painful, just a nice little tap to let you know he cares… about your bum

changbin- hand holding. he is always keeping a grip on your hand. every time the two of you sit next to each other he has your hand in his left and his phone in his right. it specifically has to be his left too. he’ll pout and whine if you sit on his right. 

hyunjin- burying his face in your neck. every time you hug or sometimes he’ll pull you into his lap when he’s sitting and he just burrows into the crook of your neck. he’s so cute. or when he hugs you or you’re sitting in his lap, he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder when he talks to someone or he’s like scrolling on his phone.

jisung- kisses. y’all knew this was coming. he can’t help himself. he’s finally found someone who he can actually give kisses to so he’s gonna beg for them all the time. he grabs on to your hand saying, “popo!” over and over with his lips pursed until he gets what he wants. he doesn’t even care if it’s on the lips or cheeks, he just wants a kiss.

felix- cuddles. he nestles into your side happily with little head wiggles into you as he gets comfortable. he always does with the happiest smile on his face. if you’re standing, he’ll cuddle you from behind and rest his head on your shoulder. so cute.

seungmin- pinky holding. he’s not super big on affection, especially in public but he’s subconsciously started taking your pinky while he’s talking, scrolling, or walking next to you. it’s just a small gesture to let you know he’s thinking of you.

jeongin- head pats. whether he’s giving or getting he loves them. he thinks it’s so cute when you’re sitting down all tiny being adorable he can’t help himself not to *pat pat* your head. it’s usually followed up with stroking down your hair while he smiles at you affectionately. when you pat his head he looks up at you and his smile gets wider.

[armpittae]

His Damn Sleeveless Shirt

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Han Jisung x Female!Reader

Genre: Fluff, strangers-to-lovers, lowkey enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, one bed trope.

Word Count: 11,518

Warnings: Some swearing, suggestive, mentions of sex, drinking, a glimpse of predebut Han.

Summary: When Seungmin suggests a little holiday trip with his school friends that you have never met, you don’t hesitate to turn his offer down. Of course, he insists and you give in. Thinking it would be the worst vacation, you soon realize it’s not as bad when Han Jisung is around.

A/N: This took me forever and I’m shitty with writing good endings so bear with me please… I hope you’ll enjoy as much as I did when writing it!

You hated winter, really. The cold, the dirty snow on the roads, the storms, the ice… all of it. It wasn’t always like this, you used to love it. So much that your father had made it a tradition to go ice skating with hot choco every holiday season. However, ever since you moved out of your parents’ house to live on your own, the city made the season feel like a nightmare. You truly hated it. Somehow, the only aspect that you still appreciated was the hot choco.

Keep reading

[armpittae]

you are my safe haven ('your eyes' series)

♡ "You were the first person I thought of at the moment."

pairing: lee minho x reader.

genre: fluff, angst.

word count: 10,426

warnings: swearing, unrequited love mentioned, minho being minho (savage and flirty). (not proofread yet!)

summary: your relationship with minho has always been tricky. either he was roasting the shit out of you, or he was flirting with you shamelessly. when things start to get complicated with your childhood friend, chan, why is he the first one who come up in your mind?

a/n: this one took me so long to write, but it might be my favourite one ever. i just fucking love lee minho, lmao. i'm so sorry for not posting as regularly as i used to, i'm very much struggling with school and other, but i'm trying my best! anyway, enjoy~

SERIES MASTERLIST

You and Chan met when your parents used to live across from each other. Being a year apart only, it made things easy for the both of you to get along. You had gone through everything together whether it was growing up, changing schools, making friends, etc. The last big step you had taken together was moving on your college's campus. You roomed with a nice but shy healthcare student, Youngmi. Although she wasn't a social butterfly like Chan was, she grew more at ease with you as time passed.

Another semester starting meant more homework and less free time, and that involved no more nights out with Chan at the local diner. Over the holidays, his friend, Minho, had started to come on your usual hangouts. Nothing against him, but his presence did affect your relationship with Chan. Your crush on him had only been growing since college started and Minho's presence wasn't much of an help if you wanted to confess at some point. Anyway, it's not like you could tell Chan that his friend was causing you problem when really he was doing nothing wrong.

Your first day was finally over. Checking your message app, you saw nothing from Chan. Weird, since he would always answer you. Your last class was with Minho, and after you had put everything in your bag, he was still at his desk, not having moved a bit other than jamming to his music.

"Minho, can you not?"

The man acted as if he had heard nothing and went on with humming happily to the song he was listening to. Despite how much your friendship with him had improved, he remained one of the few people you would give away to Satan to save yourself with no hesitation.

"Min." you tried again, but you were left with no response.

Out of impatience, you snatched his earphones out of his ears, resulting to Minho spatting out one insult after the other. "I was vibing, you moron! You're seriously no fun, weirdo."

"Wow, I'm so affected by your lame insults." you rolled your eyes.

"I'm going soft on you, kitten."

And here it was again, the sudden shift from insults to flirts. Quite honestly, you never understood how he managed to pass from one another so smoothly, nor could you comprehend how it took you by surprise each time. But that's what Minho is, a flirty jerk who loves to provoke.

"Why are you so pressed, anyway?" he asked as he lazily followed you out of the class.

"We're going to the diner, remember?"

"I forgot, actually. See, that's why I need you around." he winked, but you dismissed his antics.

"Chan hasn't replied to my messages yet, it's not like him."

"It's the first day of school, I bet he has hundreds of meetings."

He was surely right, but you learnt with time to not base your thoughts off of Minho's because he never cared about anything other than himself. And right now, he didn't give a damn about Chan not replying to you.

"I don't know, should I call Bin to see if he's with him?"

Minho deadpanned at you. "Are you his mom or something? He's fine, probably just busy. Plus, I'm here. Can't you enjoy my company for once?"

You sent him a disgusted look, unimpressed, as you went outside. That's when, from afar, you saw your best friend. He was as handsome as ever, still wearing his oversized black clothes, and laughing cutely. And he was laughing with a girl. You had literally never seen her before, though you were convinced to know everyone in Chan's social circle.

"I told you he's okay." Minho huffed.

"Sure." you replied, unfocused. "Wait here for a moment, will you?"

You passed your bag to him, not letting him protest, and you ran to Chan to hug him from the back. He was startled for a bit, until he realized you were the one who took him by surprise.

"Hey, there!" he smiled widely before hugging you back tightly, ruffling your hair in a sweet manner. "I haven't seen you all day, where were you?"

"Class... And the best out of this is that I get to finish the day with Lee Minho." you fake-gagged.

"He's not that bad, just a bit annoying." he chuckled. "How was it, other than that?"

"Fine, I suppose. I just really don't want to be back in class. The teachers went over their planned projects, and I wanted to shoot myself just then."

"Don't say that, you'll do just fine. I know it." he said, rubbing your back.

"Thanks, Channie." you blushed a little.

Chan soon realized he had been ignoring his new friend since you appeared. "Y/N, this is Eunhee. She's in my sound art practices class. Eunhee, this is my best friend, Y/N."

You ignored the pang in your heart from the label he used for you, but still greeted the girl sweetly. "Hi! Happy to meet you!"

"Likewise." she replied, seemingly uneasy by your presence despite her polite smile. "I can go find my dorm alone if you two want to hang out."

You turned your attention to Chan expectedly, but his answer crushed you a bit. "No, no. I'll show you." he hurried to tell her, before looking at you sadly. "Do you mind going without me for today? I'll join you later."

You tried your very best to hide your disappointment, but let's say it wasn't much of a success. "Yeah, sure. Do you want Minho and I to order for you?"

"It's fine, thanks. Later?"

He brought you in his arms again, kissing the top of your head as some sort of apology. You felt down enough, you didn't want to break your façade in front of him. So you hurried to join Minho back, who had patiently waited for you at the same spot. He frowned upon seeing your glossy eyes, but you didn't let him question it. You took your bag from him and started to walk to the diner immediately. However, Minho was stubborn. He sped up his pace to catch up with your own and fixated his gaze on you. You attempted to ignore it, but he can be very intimidating when he wants to be.

"What?" you snapped at him, annoyed.

"You like Chan."

You stopped on your tracks and looked at him incredulously. "You're seeing things."

He scoffed as he stopped walking as well. "Please." he elongated the word. "You're almost drooling at the sight of him. And when he's not with us, you only talk about him."

"I don't drool! And I talk about him because we barely have anything in common."

He smirked. "Now, now, kitten. You barely know anything about me, how can you be so sure?"

"You're a pain in the ass." you groaned, starting to walk again.

He followed closely as he laughed alone. "This is a fact, though. We barely talk about anything else than Chan. You must like him, then."

"Then talk about something else, if it bothers you that much."

He paused for a second, trying to think of any moment you two had without mentioning the older man. He could not think of a single one. He had tried to get to know you on many occasions, but Chan would always end up being the main topic. He had noticed way before today that you had a crush on Chan, but he thought it wasn't his place to bring it up. However, today was different. He was sick of seeing you check him out from afar and do nothing about it, so he thought of giving you a little push. Clearly, you were more stubborn than he initially thought.

"Do you actually want to talk with me?"

You let out a chuckle. "I mean, sure?"

"You don't seem sure."

"Like you said, we don't know much about each other, other than our mutual friend."

You reached the diner and opened the door to let Minho in first. He didn't wait for you to sit at the usual table you would be at with Chan. You joined him quickly, and he sent you a sly smirk.

"What is it now?" you breathed out.

"I want to talk."

You shrugged your shoulders, acting uninterested. "Please do."

"Do you even remember my cats' names?"

The question was unexpected for your part. In all of the things he could have brought up, you expected school, life experiences or hobbies, but certainly not his cats.

"I do, actually." you proudly responded, and he quirked an eyebrow. "I'm telling you, I remember!"

"What are they?"

"Soonie and Dori."

He gasped, putting a hand on his chest to enhance the dramatization of his reaction. "How dare you forget about my beloved Doongie?"

"My bad." you nonchalantly shrugged.

"You're such a bad friend."

"Are we even friends, Min?" you huffed.

"I only allow certain people to call me Min, actually."

You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but Chan entering the place interrupted you. For the first time in your life, you wished he hadn't come join you so soon. He said hi to Minho briefly, before coming to sit down next to you. The server soon came to take your orders, and you asked for your usual burgers.

"Who was your little friend?" Minho asked Chan on purpose, resulting to getting a death stare from you.

"Eunhee. She just tranferred here, so I was showing her around. She's very nice, actually. She even writes lyrics like me! I read some of it, and she's got some talent."

Hearing him talk about someone else with so much praise did not feel good. Nonetheless, you smiled along Chan's talk and pitched in the conversation from time to time.

"I'm sure the two of you would get along well." he finished his monologue about the girl.

"Yeah, she sounds fun."

The night came to an end quickly, and Minho insisted on paying for the food, despite Chab's protests. You were walking to your dorm, when Chan had to go a separate way since he wasn't living close to you. He hugged you good night, and was off to go home.

Minho kept quiet as he walked you home. He didn't mind since his building was next to yours. Although the silence was enjoyable, he felt like something was off. You were acting as if he wasn't there and he couldn't help but notice when you sniffled discreetly.

"You like him that much, uh?"

Not in the mood for his teasing, you groaned in annoyance. "Shut up, Min."

"I'm genuinely asking." You hesitated, not sure if you should be telling him about this. "Hey, I'm serious."

He stopped you and put his hand on your shoulders. While Minho was never one for physical contact, you did know he would not think about it when it comes to his close ones. Apparently, he did care about you more than you thought. For some reason, you trusted him enough to tell him. Probably because it was becoming too much of a burden that you needed to confide to someone.

"I'll always be a little sister in his eyes, right?"

He didn't actually expect you to say anything, but he was pleasantly surprised you did. "Depends, things like this can change, you know."

"You don't get it. I've tried for years to get this man's attention, and the moment he meets Eunhee, he seems infatuated with her..."

"For years?"

You nodded your head slowly, ashamed to have been looking at the same man for that long. It's not like you did not try, you actually dated here and there. Nonetheless, Chan was always the one to pick you up after each breakup.

"Rough." Minho simply said.

You ended up changing subjects, as he started to spill out about his cats. He said he rented a dorm for himself so he could have his babies with him, and that he did not think it through when bringing in his third one. Especially because Dori has so much more energy than the two others.

"Thanks, Min." you said as you came to the front door of your building.

"For?"

"I don't know. For being there."

"Sure." he shrugged his shoulders. "Good night, Y/N."

"Good night."

You really tried to make Youngmi feel at ease around your friends, and mutiple times. The girl had not much interest in coming out of her shell. You understood that, but having been in college for three years already, you would have expected her to open up more. Still, her befriending you was already a success.

"This is, like, the only free break I have this week, so enjoy while I'm here." Chan laughed out as he headed towards the cafeteria.

"What if I don't?" you joked.

"Then you are revoked from any bestie privileges. No more driving you home after a night out."

You gasped as to seem shocked. "Who would tuck me in and treat my hangover, then?"

"Youngmi can do that." he shrugged as he nodded his head towards the girl walking next to you.

She didn't say anything as she looked at you in confusion. "What?"

"Nevermind." you sighed.

"Hey, Y/N, look." You followed to where Chan was pointing as he tugged your side, and your eyes landed on Eunhee and Jeongin sitting at a table. "We should join them."

"I don't think we should do that." Youngmi spoke.

"I thought you knew Jeongin and get along with him well."

"We don't want to impose ourselves." you added.

"It can't be too bad. Plus, Eunhee is very easygoing. Let's go."

No matter what you were going to say, you knew Chan was not going to change his mind. You forced yourself to follow him, and Youngmi had the same expression on her face. When you reached the two others, Jeongin's face turned red as his gaze stuck on Youngmi.

"Hey." she waved at him shyly.

"Do you mind if we join?" Chan asked, although he was already sitting down.

"Go ahead." Eunhee replied kindly.

Hesitant, you still sat down and started to eat. Chan began to discuss with Jeongin while the remaining three of you kept quiet. You and Eunhee exchanged some glances, and you felt bad for being so on the edge around her. She hadn't done anything other than being friendly, and it wasn't fair from you to give her the side eye.

Looking around, you tried to find Minho in the crowd. You spotted him quickly, but he did not see you as his eyes were set on someone else. More specifically, Byeol, his ex-girlfriend. He was sitting across from her and they were exchanging obvious glares. You were starting to wonder why he even sat with her, since he had previously told you he doesn't like to think about her. You observed the two of them for a bit, until they shifted glares into smiles. What the hell was happening?

"Youngmi." you turned to your friend. "Don't you think it's weird he's hanging out with her?"

The girl shrugged, since she didn't know them that much. "It looks normal to me."

You then heard someone choke, which turned your attention to Eunhee, who was coughing like crazy. As Jeongin attempted to make her feel better, you took out a napkin and wiped off the water she had spilled. She gave you a small smile, thankful.

"What do you mean, me? What did I do?" she said after she stopped coughing.

"She asked me if I'd be interested in tutoring you."

You hadn't noticed that Chan was the one she was talking to, until he answered. Tutoring? Wasn't he busy enough already? You chuckled as you thought this was an horrible idea, and Eunhee did the same, visibly seeing this as ridiculous as you were.

"What's funny?" he asked Jeongin, not sure to have caught on what made you two laugh.

The young man shrugged, not very interested in the conversation. "I mean, do you even have time to tutor? You barely have any time for the guys and I."

"It would be during the class period." Eunhee groaned at Chan, seemingly not happy with what she was hearing. " She said you're going to fail if you keep going like this."

“Come on, Chan. We’re barely halfway through the term. I can manage myself.”

“Not sure about that. You have halfway left that you can use to actually get better instead of barely passing.”

She gave you a look, almost pleading for your help, but you really didn't know what to tell her. So you shrugged your shoulders, and turned back to Youngmi to continue chatting.

“I’ll think about it…” you heard Eunhee say.

Lunch time went on pretty quickly. Youngmi had class, so you walked with her to her course. Your day was pretty much over, and you were planning to hang out with the boys for the evening. But nights at the diner shifted to you and Minho being alone while Chan needed to attend the student association meetings. Either that, or he was too tired and wanted to rest.

Unlike what you would have expected, it didn't affect you as much. Minho was much different than your best friend, there was no doubt. His weird behaviour, though, was odd enough to make you forget that Chan had pretty much abandoned you. He was still consistent with his texts, but you barely actually saw him around, today being an exception.

You joined Minho in front of the restaurant, and didn't bother waiting for Chan since you knew it would only be the two of you. He started to talk about his day and other fun things. But honestly, your focus was not cooperating as you were mostly in your thoughts.

"No, but can you blame anyone? Hyunjin's butt is great." Minho went on with his story-telling.

You mixed your milkshake with your straw in boredom, as you nodded along Minho's talk. "Yeah yeah, Hyunjin's butt is nice."

He raised an eyebrow, offended by your lack of commitment in this one-way discussion. "You're not listening."

"I am! I just told you Hyunjin's butt is nice!"

"Y/N, you've never seen the guy." he rolled his eyes at you.

"That is untrue!" you raised your finger to point at him in defense. "He's the one looking like he was made by angels, right?"

Minho scoffed, a smirk forming. "That would be me, princess." His cockiness almost got to you as you were at loss of words. "And we both know my ass is cuter."

You snorted at his statement. To be fair, you had checked his ass once, and there was no denial that he had a good one. You were not going to feed this ego of his, however. Just then, a ping was heard from your phone.

Chan: Hey! Changbin and I would like to have a little gathering with the others tomorrow. You in?

Y/N: If that means I can finally see you, yes!

Chan: I'm so sorry about that! I had so many meetings and so much work to do. It's supposed to be mostly done, though, so hopefully we can see each other more from now on.

Y/N: Otherwise, I'm complaining to the school that I want my best friend back.

Chan: Stop, you know I'll never leave you.

Chan: See you tomorrow?

Y/N: See you tomorrow.

"Something tells me Channie's the one you're texting." Minho teased.

"Shut you. I could say the same with you texting Byeol earlier."

This spilled out of your mouth without you thinking. You did not understand why it bothered you this much when he was chatting with his ex-girlfriend at the beginning of your night together. It was surely because it was impolite to be on your phone when you're hanging with someone already. Though, you just did the same and he was not bothered at all.

Minho blinked a few times as his eyes were set on you, before he breathed out a huff. "What do you mean?"

You stuttered as you tried to explain yourself. "I-I... She and you were- I meant, earlier today-"

He grinned at your sudden change in attitude. He rarely saw you shy or embarrassed, because you were rarely in this kind of state and also because you were good at hiding your emotions. To say he didn't like it would be a lie. You were damn adorable with the flush on your cheeks, and he had to suppress himself from slipping out a comment about it.

"You were definitely not listening to me earlier, then." You frowned before gesturing for him to continue. "The whole butt thing was because Byeol had accidentally texted me instead of her friend, and she was complimenting Hyunjin's ass in that message. That's why I was laughing then."

"Oh." you breathed out as you nodded your head slowly.

"If it makes you feel any better, I smile much more when you're texting me." he winked.

"Now, for real, you need to shut up."

Being the first one to get to Chan's dorm, you made yourself at home as you sprawled across his couch, scrolling through your social medias. Chan had plans with Minho and would be coming home with him later, so you hadn't seen him yet. Changbin, however, was there.

"Do you think this is a good plan?" he sighed loudly.

Frankly speaking, you had not listened to one word he said since you were too focused on replaying the cat video Minho had just sent you. "Uh? Yeah. It's an excellent plan." you replied nonchalantly, before chuckling at the video again.

"And, you were not listening." Changbin let out a sigh. "Is this Minho's cat?" he asked, upon seeing the ginger feline on your phone.

"Yeah. Soonie fell off this morning while he was filming him. Poor kitty, but this is quite hilarious. Especially Minho panicking and running to save his child." you went on to explain, a smile still on your face.

"You have it for Minho, now?"

You froze in action from his words. "What?"

He realized that, maybe, he shouldn't have said anything as he scratched his head while awkwardly chuckling. "Forget it."

The doorbell rang and Changbin almost ran to the door to open it. He let it Chunhwa before giving her a big hug. She had brought drinks for the evening, so she straight went to put them in the refrigerator.

"Hey, Y/N!" she waved at you.

"Hi." you smiled. "What did you get for us?"

She raised a pack of beer and a bottle filled with a dark-coloured liquid. "Beers for the guys, and I found this fruit punch thing. I thought we could try it out." she shrugged as she put them down, and pulled a Fanta out of her grocery bag. "And I got this for our Jisung."

"About that." Changbin started. "He won't come tonight. He said something along the lines that Hwayoung was out with some guy and that he didn't want what happened last time to repeat itself."

Last time you hung out all together, Hwayoung had went on a date before joining you and was looking like a wreck. Jisung had to comfort her in Chan's room, and let's say some stuff happened.

"Oh well, I'll have the Fanta, then." you said as you got up to take it from your friend's hand.

Soon enough, the guys came back after they stopped by the convenience store to buy some snacks. While Changbin had already placed the board game on the table, Chunhwa took the time to help out Chan prepared the ramen soups he bought. Minho sat next to you and thanked the girl as she gave him the food.

"Where is Jisung?" he asked as he started to dig into his soup.

"He's probably comforting Hwayoung again." Changbin answered, which made you feel bad for him.

"If he keeps doing this, he'll end up in a deep depression." you breathed out before the entire room nodded in agreement.

"You're one to say that." Minho said as he nudged your arm.

You glared at him before hitting his arm playfully. You only hoped Chan didn't get what he meant by that. The evening continued as you all picked your pawns to play. You exchanged simultaneously since it had been a while since you saw each other. Changbin and Chunhwa were being painfully obvious about their crushes on each other, and Minho kept on bugging you, claiming you were cheating.

"I talked with Eunhee." Chan said, clapping his hands together which took you aback.

"And?" you frowned.

"She accepted my offer. I told you she would."

Your heart sank. No matter when you would talk with him, he always brought her up. Even if you took your feelings out of the situation, it almost looked as if he wasn't your best friend anymore and it hurt. You felt Minho putting a hand on your thigh, probably to bring you some kind of support.

You forced yourself to smile, before managing to say a small "That's great."

You could see that Chan noticed your lack of enthusiasm, but he went on nonetheless. "Yeah, I'll text her the details later. It'll probably be once or twice a week. Depends on her level, honestly."

"Right." you coughed out as you felt a lump forming in your throat, and Minho was quick to notice as he tightened his grip on you slightly. "Sorry, I have a headache. Minho." The boy shot his head up immediately. "Do you mind helping me get some medicine?"

"Yes, of course." he assured before standing up and offering his hand to help you up.

He gave you a worried smile as you came face to face with him. You didn't know when it started exactly, but he had started to let himself be more vulnerable around you. You almost never saw him having any sort of emotions. Seeing him care this much about you made you feel both weirded out and safe.

Chan watched the scene happen in front of his eyes and frowned in confusion. "Are you alright? I can help if you want and-"

"No." you immediately shut him up. "I'm okay, really. Thanks."

The poor guy was left even more confused when Minho took you away, bringing you to the bathroom. You both closed the door and you stood in front of each other for a moment without saying anything. While he was waiting for you to talk, you genuinely just wanted to enjoy his presence. But as the silence grew, Minho finally decided to break it.

"You could have asked Chunhwa to help you." he said, since he didn't why exactly you chose him to comfort you.

You shrugged, not too sure either. "You were the first person I thought of at the moment. I mean, you had a pretty strong grip on my thigh."

He coughed awkwardly, his ears turning red. "I see. And yeah, sorry about that.

"It's okay. It kind of helped, actually." you admitted.

Another silence took over, but he was the first to speak again. "Do you want me to talk to him?"

Your eyes widened at his proposition. "Are you crazy? Don't do that."

"No, I won't tell him about your crush, or whatever. I can mention to him that it's annoying that he only talks about her." he shrugged his shoulders.

"Min, we both only talk about Chan whenever we are together." you stated the obvious. "I bet you are more annoyed about that."

"Fair enough, but you don't bring up how talented and amazing he is every two seconds."

You laughed at this, and it visibly made Minho relax. If he managed to make you smile a little, that was good enough for him.

"Still, you don't need to do that. It's just as if I'm losing a friend, that's all."

"Do you want to go back home? I can walk you there."

You hummed quietly while nodding a yes slowly. "Actually, yes, that would be nice."

He took a step closer before rubbing the side of your arm, not forgetting to replace the hair that had fallen onto your face as well. "Then, we shall take you home, princess."

You hoped he didn't feel your heartbeat fasten its pace, nor your heavy breathing. He was never a physical person, and his touch felt electrifying. You knew damn well he was only doing this for you to feel better about your whole situation with your best friend, but you were starting to wonder if a part of him actually enjoyed these kinds of moments.

Your train of thoughts was stopped when he let go of you to open the door again, letting you walk out first. As you joined the others, you saw Changbin and Chunghwa being in their own world, and Chan giggling at his phone, most likely texting Eunhee. Oddly enough, it did not pain you as it did earlier. Somehow, feeling Minho's body hovering behind you in a protective way compensated.

"I'll go home, if you don't mind." you said to nobody in particular.

Chan let go of his phone, while the two others simply gave you a thumbs up before going on with whatever they were doing. "This early?" Chan asked.

"Sorry, I don't feel so well." you attempted a smile.

Chan stood up and joined you at the front door, concern all over his face. "Let me walk you to your dorm, at least."

You shook you head as a no before gesturing to the man standing behind you.. "Minho's coming with me already. Thank you."

"Alright." he trailed off before he gave you a tight hug. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Always. Good night Chan. Bye, guys!" you addressed to the others.

You were quick to leave, and you felt bad Minho had to keep up with your fast walking. Nonetheless, he didn't complain and you found yourself outside of the building soon, breathing in the fresh air.

"What are you going to do for the rest of your night?" Minho asked.

You pondered for a minute, trying to figure out the options in your mind, but nothing came up. "I don't know. Knowing Youngmi, she's already sleeping. That means I can't do much other than sleep too."

"Are you tired?" he asked, and you answered with a no. "My place is close to yours, if you want to hang out."

You never went over at his, meaning you never met his cats. This was a good opportunity to get some cuddles with them, that only if Minho allowed you.

"Do I get to snuggle with Soonie, Doongie and Dori?"

He frowned. "Who do you think you are? Some privileged woman? The cats are off-limit." To that, you pouted at him. "Y/N, no."

"You want to me to feel better or not?"

"You seem to be doing good, now."

"Min, pretty please." you whined like a child.

He let out a sigh, deadpanning at you. "Fine. Not more than an hour of cuddles, though."

Feeling victorious, you took his hand and dragged him rapidly to his dorm. He almost fell from your sudden excitement, which took him by surprise. You were especially strong for someone who barely did anything else than study and work. At his building, he took the lead since you didn't know where he lived exactly. He let you inside first, being the well-mannered man he is, and you were greeted by an orange ball of floof who was visibly confused upon seeing someone who is not Minho.

"Doongie." he said before pointing to the other orange cat who was sitting on the cat tree in the corner of the room. "Soonie. And I have no idea where Dori is."

"You sent me so many photos of them, I would have recognized them without your help."

He sent a glare your way. "Just be grateful you get to meet them."

"Yes, thank you, Min." you laughed before crouching down to pet the cat. "Hello, Doongie." you cooed at him.

Minho huffed at the sight. His cat seemed to be liking you a lot. He went to Soonie, only to see Dori jumping on the cat tree to join his brother. He pat their heads lovingly. At least, he still had those two who didn't betray him. However, he realized he spoke too soon when you joined him to scratch the cats' bellies.

"You traitors." he muttered at his children. "It looks like they love you more than me."

"I'm just that much likeable." you teased.

"Sure you are, kitten."

Your eyes widened as realization hit you. "You call me kitten because of your cats?"

"Why else?" he shrugged as if it was nothing. "I like cats and I like you. This is only logical."

Your eyes went even wider, you heartbeat pacing faster. Did he just tell you he liked you? The Lee Minho who was known to be the most detached person on Earth, the one who never showed his true emotions.

"You like me?" you breathed out.

He rolled his eyes at you. "You're my friend, of couse I like you."

Oh. He meant that kind of liking. You were not certain on why it disappointed you so much. You thought you liked Chan. Well, you did, but ever since Minho came in the picture, you didn't know if you were starting to lie to yourself about your feelings for your best friend.

"Wow, Minho is finally admitting he actually likes having me around."

"Don't let it get into your head too much. This only happened because Chan's busy." he scoffed as he walked to the cupboard in his kitchen. "Now, do you want to feed the kitties?"

You didn't twice before hopping to join him. You helped him serve the cat food and put them on the ground. You observed them eat together, as you petted their backs. He was babying Dori and Doongie, while you were spoiling Soonie with scratches. Needless to say, you felt like you were two parents watching over their children. And if felt strangely comfortable. If someone told you months prior that you would be in Minho's place, feeding his cats, and feeling like you wished it'd be like this all the time, you would not believe them. Because you couldn't quite believe it at this instant.

"Did you want to do something in particular?" you asked after the cats were done eating.

"Hmm." he hummed, thinking for a moment. "We could watch a movie. I have some drinks if you want to do that while watching."

"Sounds good to me."

You opted for a comedy movie while Minho prepared the popcorn and the drinks. You both had already drank a little when you were at Chan's, but some more couldn't hurt. Mid-way through the film, you were already feeling tired and tipsy. Way more than tipsy. Of course, Minho noticed since you were starting to lean on him. He tried to move away, but it was like you were trying to absolutely have some sort of physical contact with him.

"Dude." he spat out when you were now full on laying on him.

"Uh?" you said as your eyes fluttered opened. "Ah, sorry, Min. I'm just very tired."

"Yeah, it's fine."

"Do you mind if I sleep here for tonight?" you mumbled out and Minho froze.

Normally, he would have kicked you out at that point without any second thoughts. However, your pleading eyes with your tired figure did something to him, and he couldn't just say no to you.

"I'll take the couch."

You pouted before shaking your head violently. "Sleep in your bed. I'll stay here."

"Y/N, you're not okay. Sleep in my bed."

"Or we can sleep together."

You took his lack of answer as a yes, and stood up on your feet clumsily. Luckily, he caught you in time before you tripped on yourself. You grabbed onto him to find some balance as he led you carefully to his bed. Once he tucked you in, he was about to leave, but you took his wrist to stop him.

"I said we can sleep together."

"I'll just wash up, I'll be back."

"Do you have cucumbers?"

He looked at you weirdly. Sure, you were drunk, but this was so random. You explained briefly it was for a skin care routine you wanted to do to relax. Although it now made sense, he didn't quite understand why you wanted to pamper yourself while being so tired. Nonetheless, he obliged and brought you sliced cucumbers.

"I'll go shower while you do your thingy."

"I'll wait for you."

Your behaviour was strange, but you were awfully cute and you smiled widely at him, hurrying him to go wash. He absolutely adored it, but he knew this was only because you drank. He beat himself up for wanting this to be genuine. The picture of you waiting for him to go to bed and falling asleep together was more than appealing to him. However, he had to remind himself that you like Chan, and that you've know the latter for years. He could never do that, come in-between the two of you. He finished his shower thoughts by simply telling himself to get over it. He didn't like you. He couldn't like you. Not like that.

When he came back in his room, he was met with the image of you watching a kids show on his personal TV. Some people would act like horny jerks when drunk, but you were a total child. Alongside with you was Dori, who you had somehow managed to kidnap to cuddle with. Minho loved it. But he couldn't.

"You didn't use the cucumbers." he pointed to the plate, still full of the vegetable

"I told you I'd wait for you."

He quirked an eyebrow, starting to see where this was going. "I am not doing some self-care shit with you."

"Min..." you pouted.

"No."

You pat the empty side of the bed and, lazily, Minho sat down as he was still glaring at you.

"Please."

"I'm going to sleep."

You huffed. "You're no fun. Chan would have done it."

Oh, how wrong was it of you to say that. It awoke something in Minho. Whether it was jealousy or pride, he didn't know, but he knew he didn't like it. Instantly, he picked two cucumbers and placed them on your cheeks.

"There. Happy?" he grumbled.

"Very much." you giggled. "Your turn."

You spent the next hour or so playing with cucumber slices, either throwing them at each other, eating them, or shoving them on Minho's eyes. It might had been the first time you saw him genuinely having fun. Not cocky or insufferable like he usually was. He was at ease, and so you were.

It was around 1am when you both grew too tired to continue your self-care session. You snuggled into the blankets and brought yourself closer to the man laying next to you. He stood still as he looked right back at you. He didn't stop himself from reaching out to the side of your face, patting your head.

"Thank you for tonight." you mumbled tiredly. "I think I like you too."

He immediately caught on that you were referring to your previous conversation. Fortunately, because otherwise, he would have went on full panic mode.

"That's good, pretty. Sleep well, alright?"

"You too, Min."

You and Minho were definitely no longer friends after that night, but nor had you stopped speaking to each other. Quite the opposite, actually. Think of any act of affection a couple would do, other than kissing, and there you got what was happening between the two of you. Chan had almost disappeared, now spending most of his time with Eunhee. That also meant your crush on him had completely vanished. It couldn't have stayed for long, anyway, after you woke up in Minho's bed that morning, realizing you had fallen in love with him instead.

"Strawberry." Minho said, standing up firmly for his choice of milkshake, as he nudged your arm.

"Chocolate." you said, coming closer to his face.

He sighed in frustration. "We had chocolate last time."

"If you're so pressed with your strawberry, just order one for yourself."

He smirked. "But you want us to share, don't you?"

It was annoying how right he was, and you huffed in defeat. "Strawberry it is."

"There you go. I knew you were going to give up."

"Shut up."

He took you by the waist and brought your closer, as if you were not close enough already on the small cushioned bench. You continued to bicker playfully, when you heard the front door's bell. Turning your attention on where the sound came from, you easily spotted Chan. He stood still, baffled at the sight in front of him. He started to question himself mentally, wondering if he had really cancelled on you two that much that he didn't notice you were dating. Coming back to his senses, he walked to your booth and sat in front of you.

"Hey, guys. Am I interrupting, or..?"

"Of course not." Minho exclaimed. "Glad to see you after, I don't know how long."

You could hear the pettiness in his voice, so you hit him slightly with your elbow before speaking. "We've all been busy, it's okay." you smiled. "So, what's new? How are things with Eunhee?"

"It's good, I guess. We had a... moment, and she is pretty much ignoring me since then." he explained, while looking pretty clueless.

"What kind of moment?" Minho asked, stretching out his arm to wrap it around you, which earned a look from Chan.

"Uh, I'm not too sure. We danced in my room-"

You cut him off with a laugh, and he glared at you. "That's the cheesiest thing you could have done." you snickered, and Minho soon joined you.

"Yeah, you two are no better. You were all over each other when I walked in." he rolled his eyes.

That was enough to shut the both of you, knowing well this was an unspoken thing you had going on. You never brought it up, and didn't intend on doing so anytime soon.

"So." Minho coughed out awkwardly. "Your moment?"

"Right." Chan nodded. "Well, we were dancing in my room and, I don't know what happened, but I almost kissed her. And, I don't know, she didn't look like she wanted to, so I back off. And now, I'm lowkey stressing out about it because I surely didn't want to make her uncomfortable."

"She wanted you to kiss her." you responded without hesitation.

"You think so?"

"Chan, I know so." You hesitated to continue with your point, but feeling Minho's hand rubbing your arm let you know it might be time to tell him. "I'm convinced she likes you, because she acts the same way I did with you."

He frowned his eyebrows. "You like me? Aren't you and Minho... well, you know?"

"I used to, and that's not important." you dismissed the topic. "What I'm saying is she keeps sending you memes to make you smile, she gets shy around you, she said yes to your tutoring..."

"And you told me she even bought you coffee for one of your lessons with her." Minho added.

He looked at you both, still uncertain. "Should I invite her to my party, then?"

"What party?"

"My end of the school term party. In two days."

"Go for it, yeah." Minho encouraged. "Are we invited?"

"If you promise to keep it in your pants, yes."

Right. A party. With girls. And Minho. The guy who hooked up here and there after his breakup with Byeol. The same one you were currently in love with. Great.

"You know me better." he laughed with Chan. "I'll behave, I promise."

Later, on the walk back to Minho's, since you had planned to stay at his place, you were more quiet than usual. You were holding hands, but your grip was loose, and you couldn't focus properly.

"What's wrong, kitten?" he asked worriedly.

"What do you think of Siyeon?" you said, mentioning a pretty girl in your common class.

"What is this question?" he chuckled, not sure in where you were going with this.

"She's cute, has good grades, is nice to everyone. And Chan is going to invite her at the party, probably."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Your point?"

"You could ask her out." you shrugged.

With that, Minho let go of your hand. "I could, but I won't."

"Why? Sorry, but it just hit me that you haven't gone out with someone in a very long time."

"I don't know. I suppose I'm not very in the mood of fucking around anymore. You also stopped talking about Chan with me. I'm not the only one acting differently." he pointed out.

"I said it earlier, I don't like Chan anymore." you rolled your eyes.

"Well, then. Our romantic lives are bland."

"They are."

The conversation was cut short as he didn't have anything else to say. He took your hand again, and led you to his dorm. You got there pretty quickly, and you still haven't said a word to each other.

The moment he closed his front door, he grabbed you by the waist to pull you closer and crashed his lips onto yours. You were taken aback at first, not sure on how you should be reacting, but it quickly faded as you melted into the kiss. While he was needy, he was also being extremely gentle with you, making sure he didn't hurt you in any way. It didn't take long for you to get to his room, and he pushed you down gently on the bed. Now hovering you, he deepened the kiss before moving down to place small pecks on your neck.

"Min." you mumbled with heavy breaths, and he hummed against your skin. "This is not a joke, right?"

He separated his mouth from your skin to look at you curiously. "What do you mean?"

"You used to be very... physical with other girls. I just want to make sure I'm not some doll you're playing with before throwing it away."

He looked at you with fondness as he stroke your cheek softly. "I thought I made it clear I've wanted you for months, now. Not just physically, like you said." He pecked your forehead. "If I can have you." Kissed your cheek. "I don't want the skin ship only, this time." He stopped as he glanced at your lips. "I want all of you."

You were the one to initiate this time when you brought him closer, kissing him hungrily. The unspoken tension there was before was no longer there. It was like kissing each other had dropped all of your walls, and you were now fully exposed to one another.

"I fucking hated it when you cried about Chan." he said in-between the kisses.

"Really?"

"Fuck, yes." he said, going back to sucking your neck.

"I hated how much you flirted, knowing you weren't sincere." you admitted.

"Trust me, kitten, I was fucking sincere."

You started to play with the hem of his shirt, tugging in a few times. He backed away and smirked at you before leading your hands to help him take off his shirt. The sight in front of you was mesmerizing. You already had the idea that he had a good body because of his dancing, but you certainly did not expect him to look this hot.

"Damn." you let out without thinking.

"I know, I'm hot." he winked at you.

"Of course, you know." you rolled your eyes.

"I'm joking." he chuckled as he pecked your lips. "Are you okay if we continue? I want you to feel comfortable."

"I'm more than okay."

The party started out well. You had come in advance to help Chan with the preparations, but mostly to help him calm down. The poor guy was so nervous, not knowing whether Eunhee was going to show up or not.

As people kept coming, you kept looking out for any signs of Minho. He texted you he had some errands to do for the cats before coming, but you just wanted to see him. After your night together, you spent the two next days doing finals which didn't allow you to meet up again. The morning after, however, he did ask you out on a date to which you gladly said yes. Although labels were not discussed, it wasn't necessary because you both knew you wanted the same thing.

"Hey, Jisung!" you welcomed the man as you opened the door.

"Still acting like Chan's place is yours?" he joked.

"I've come here so much, it's like my second home." you laughed with him. "Come on in!"

You joined back Chan in the kitchen as he was starting to prepare the snacks. You started helping him out, though you were very much distracted. Looking at your phone every minute or so, Chan pointed it out, making fun of you.

"You tell me to stop doing that with Eunhee, and you're doing the same with Minho."

You froze in place before slowly turning your head to him. "I never told you I was seeing Minho."

"Y/N, you two have been eye fucking each other for weeks. It did surprise me, but I'm not blind. You love him."

You blushed, as shyness crept over. "Yeah, he's really great."

"I can see that. I haven't see you so happy since, well, since forever actually. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you, Channie."

You exchanged smiles before going back to preparing the food. It felt great to spend some quality time with him after such a long time.

"You two fucked, haven't you?"

Your eyes widened from his words.

"Chan!"

"What?" he said innocently. "You have dark spots on your neck, that's all."

You grew embarrassed, but couldn't help but laugh. You haven't noticed until now that Minho had marked you that much. You thought he was being gentle enough to not have done so, but it was visibly the opposite. Just then, you noticed a familiar figure appear in front of you, which made the both of you shut up.

"HI! Eunhee, um, wow. You made it! I mean, I didn't expect you to be here. I should, uh-" Chan spilled out, straightening his posture.

Trying to prevent him from embarrassing himself any further, you hit him slightly with your elbow to shut him up before turning your attention to the girl in front of you. "Good to see you."

"You too. I hope I'm not interrupting." she flickered her gaze between the two.

"Of course not!" you denied, not wanting to give her the wrong image.

Chan stood there awkwardly before starting to walk away. "I should go greet the others. Talk to you later?" he told her, and you gave him a look as to ask him what he was doing.

You didn't know what to say to her. Seriously, it was Chan's responsibility to talk to her and fix whatever happened between them. You just kept on pouring bowls of chips, but ended speaking.

"I really didn't expect you here. Chan had kind of given up after you ignored him."

It came pettier than what you had intended, but at least the message was there.

"It wasn't intentional. I mean, I did purposely ignore him but I had reasons." she justified, but you shook your head for her to stop.

Her silence was torturing you as she was processing everything you told her. You replayed the scene in your mind, trying to spot anything you could have said wrongly. But nothing came to you.

"I'm not asking you to tell me why, you must have had good reasons. I just..." You hesitated to keep going, afraid you would be saying something you shouldn't. "He told me about how you almost kissed and I'm just letting you know that Chan is not someone to play around with. I don't know why he likes you so much while barely noticing me, but I'm warning you. You don't know him like I do and I know Chan is going to prioritize who he loves first. I don't want this thing going on with you two to be hurting anyone."

"I came here to fix things with him." she finally spoke. "I don't know the history between you two, and visibly you are closer than anyone here. If I hurt you in any way, I'm so sorry. I just wanted to pass my class, that's it."

You had definitely fucked up by indirectly mentioning your former crush on the guy. This was obviously not the outcome you were expecting, you simply wanted to let her know that Chan was precious and needed to be taken care of even when he didn't want to.

"No, I-"

"It's okay, Y/N. You two clearly have something going on. I know for a fact Chan doesn't like me like that and he's way better off with you."

She left before you could explain any further. You cursed under your breath as you tried to catch up to her. However, you were stopped when someone brought you into a hug before familiar lips met yours.

"Hey, there." Minho grinned at you. "You're looking beautiful."

While your heart wanted to stay with him and melt at his compliments, your mind knew you had to make things right with Eunhee.

"Thank you, Min. I have to do something real quick. Do you mind getting me a drink in the meantime?" you pecked his cheek. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Alright." he nodded before bringing you into another hug. He leaned on your side so his mouth could be next to your ear. "I'm sorry about the hickeys, by the way."

And he left. He was surely making you feel things, but now was not the moment. You walked through the crowd of people, trying to find Eunhee, but you simply couldn't as there were too many people. Looking behind you, your eyes laid on Chan, alone in the kitchen. You went to him as fast as you could.

"Chan!" you exclaimed out of breath. "Have you seen Eunhee?"

When you took a better look at him, his face had nothing but confusion, sadness, and pure anger.

"What did you say to her?"

And, you were fucked. You shut your eyes closed, taking a deep breath to prepare yourself for the argument that you felt was coming. Chan was rarely mad, but you did not want to be around when he was. Now that he was actually pissed, it was even worse that it was at you.

"So you saw her."

Chan rolled his eyes, as if it was the most obvious thing. "She said you were waiting for me in the kitchen. What have you told her?"

"Nothing untrue, I swear." you breathed out, trying to be careful with your words. "I think she misinterpreted a lot of what I said."

"What did you say exactly?" he asked again, growing impatient.

You took a deep breath, and searched for any help around, but everyone was having fun and Minho was nowhere to be seen. "I might have spilled out I had a crush on you, but she took it as if I still do." He groaned in frustration, passing his hand through his curly locks. "I also said you like her, and I might have mentioned that you two being together could potentially end up hurting the both of you..."

If you thought he was furious earlier, now he was on full rage mode. Honestly, you had never seen him so mad, and it frightened you quite a bit.

"Why on Earth would say tell her that?" he almost growled at you.

"Why? For fuck's sake, Chan, how was I supposed to know what to tell her? You left me there because you were too much of a baby to face her yourself." you snapped at him, which he had seemingly not expected.

"You know me enough to not say shit like that! And I am hosting this whole thing and I saw people coming in. It was the least I could do."

"Fuck off with your lame excuse, because we both know Changbin was already doing so. And for your information, I don't know you as well as I used to because sir decided to disappear out of my life."

He huffed at you as he looked around. He was lost and didn't know what to do now.

"Yeah, I told you already that I'm sorry. But if you love me so much, you wouldn't have told her off by saying you have a crush on me." he yelled out, being heard by almost everyone in the room.

Behind him, you spotted Minho's eyes already staring at you. He was fuming too, walking towards your direction. You didn't know whether he was angry because of you or Chan, but you were definitely worried at that point.

"Y/N." he called out.

"Minho, can we not-"

"So it's Minho, now?" You exhaled loudly, wondering how the night had even took this turn. "I thought you said you were over him."

"Minho, stay out of this." Chan put his arm in front of him to prevent him from approaching you any closer.

You recognized the protectiveness Chan had of you within his tone, which reassured you a bit that he still cared, at least. Minho didn't fight back, but sent you a disappointed look instead.

"I'll leave you to it, then."

With that, he stormed out of the apartment, not looking back. Meanwhile, the tears you had been holding back until then flooded out and you broke down as Chan held you.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm sorry, it's my fault."

The softness he had after being so enraged took you by surprise, but you truly needed your best friend at the moment. "I'm sorry." you sobbed out.

"Y/N, it's okay. Don't be sorry. You know I can be pretty stupid, right?" he pat your head, and you nodded as a small laugh left your mouth. "I'm the one at fault, here. I should have talked to Eunhee myself, and I shouldn't have yelled at you. Minho is very sensitive, you know that, right? He'll come around, I'm sure of it."

It amazed you how he was still able to find the right words for any circumstances. You loved him, for real. But not that kind of love. This one was reserved for Minho. The only thing on your mind was to run after him. You hurt him, and you couldn't bear with the thought.

"Thank you, Chan. I'm also sorry."

He shook his head. "I told you to stop saying that." It made you chuckle.

"Do you think I should go after him?"

He smirked. "Go get your damsel in distress."

Still sobbing, you snorted at his words before you hurried to get out of his apartment. You felt grateful to have went so many times to his place to know his dorm number. Otherwise, you would have given up much quicker. You stopped in front of his door and knocked softly. You heard someone moving from the other side, and heard a sigh.

"Min." you called out.

To your shock, he opened the door, only a bit, and looked at you. He looked tired, and you noticed he had changed into his pyjamas. He hummed as a greeting, obviously still mad at what happened.

"Can we talk?"

He really didn't want to, but your puffy red eyes and simply the sight of you was enough to break him apart. So he let you in. You smiled widely when you were greeted by your favourite cats. You scratched their heads briefly, before turning your attention back on Minho. He was leaning in his counter (which was hot, let's be honest) and crossed his arms as he waited for you to talk.

"I really and certainly do not like Chan."

"Reassuring." he commented, but received a glare from you to tell him to let you speak.

"What happened was he left me alone with Eunhee and I said some things to her that she interpreted as if I still liked him. Chan got mad and he impulsively said that. I told him about us already, he knows."

He frowned at your words. "Us."

"Yeah, us." you repeated, taking a chance by walking up to him.

Thankfully, he let you place yourself right in front of him. He uncrossed his legs so you could have some space, and you approached him. You took his face in your hands, looking at him lovingly.

"What did you tell him about us, precisely?" he asked, placing his hands on your waist.

"I told him that you're great."

"Just that?"

"He knows we fucked."

He raised his eyebrows as he looked up. "Should have expected that."

You slapped his cheek playfully as you pouted, and he chuckled because you were just adorable. "Shut up."

"Sorry. Go on?" he laughed.

You got closer to him, your lips lingering over his. He would have kissed you, but he wanted to hear what you had left to say.

"And I admitted that I might love you."

He backed away, not having expected this. "Love?"

You sighed. "Dude, we've been acting like a couple for months, and we see each other pretty much every day. Don't act surprised."

He frowned even more. "Dude? Really? I call you princess, kitten, or pretty. And I get dude."

"Min." you whined, but he could only laugh.

He loved messing around with you, but he knew when to stop. "I'll be dude if that's what makes you happy, love."

You grinned from ear to ear. "Shall I take this as you love me too?"

"Don't make me say it, kitten."

You chuckled and played with his hair. He adjusted his posture and was now the one hovering you. His eyes went straight to your lips, and he didn't ask to kiss you before doing so. You smiled and kissed him back, not forgetting to hold him close.

"I fucking won over Bang Chan." he bragged after pulling away from you.

"That was an easy win." you snorted.

"Ah yeah? Am I that irresistible?"

"You know you are."

taglist: @lenilla15 | @muddy-waters | @nanaspalette | @nattisbored | @popcatx0 | @vanblack95 | @aestheticsluut | @thanxxskz | @minhoino | @fairywriter-oracle | @xhazmania | @taetertotsv

[armpittae]

𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐀𝐫𝐦𝐬

Pairings: lee minho x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: other than minho threatening y/n that he'll replace her toothpaste with mayonaise (endearingly), it's all good.

Word count: 734 words

Banners by: @kimjiho1 @celcero

A/n: random drabble brought to light by minho's beautiful long hair <3 enjoy!

"You need a haircut," you simply say as you rake your fingers through your boyfriend's locks as he lays on your lap, his eyes closed as he takes slow breaths. Minho only hums in reply, eyes fluttering open as he shifts to face you. "You think?" He asks with a huff as he fights the urge to close his eyes again once he feels you gently scratch his scalp. "I think so, yeah. I mean don't get me wrong, you look extra handsome with this new look of yours, but doesn't it get into your eyes or something?"

He was exhausted, no doubt about that. He spent the last few weeks practicing and preparing with his group for their remaining concerts and extra events in the months to come. He was only lucky that the company had let them take a 3-day break to recooperate and rest. Although a longer break would have been better, he was more than thankful to have at least a few days off to think about anything else but work. He went straight to you right away the moment his break has been filed, shoving whatever clothes he finds on the top of his closet into his bag, no longer caring if the shirts would get wrinkled afterwards.

He was at your front door 15 minutes tops.

"It does, yeah. Especially when I'm dancing." You can hear the exhaustion in his voice as he answers your question, making you huff out a lighthearted chuckle. "You can sleep, you know?"

"'M not sleepy," he slurs out, shifting his body again so he faces your stomach, lacing his left arm around your waist, holding you close. "Uhuh, yeah you're not." You say almost sarcastically, rolling your eyes at him before gently manuvering yourself out of his hold, making him whine at the lost of your warmth. "Come on, kitty cat. Let's get you to bed."

"Nooo, I'm already comfy here." His lips form into a pout as he childishly whines, something he rarely does because he knows you'd tease him after (how could you not, thougb? He just looks so adorable.)

"It may seem comfy now but I don't wanna hear you complain about your neck hurting when you wake up, so come on. We'll cuddle in the bedroom." With that, he opens his eyes again to glare at you, but he follows you nonetheless because he knows you're right. Besides, a cuddle does sound promising.

"You better cuddle with me or else I'll replace your toothpaste with mayonaise." You hear him grumble as he trails behind you, his socked feet shuffling against the wooden floors of your apartment. "Ooo I'm so scared, please don't." You retorted as you open your bedroom door, hands finding the remote control of your AC to beat the summer heat.

It didn't take long before the two of you finally settle in your bed with your back against the mattress while Minho nearly lays on top of you, his head resting on the top of your chest. Your hands resume their earlier position back in the couch, finger threading through his hair with the goal of making him fall asleep.

"Work was tough," he mumbles mindlessly, the steady rhythym of your heartbeat slowly lulling him to sleep. "I know, love. But we can talk about it later, mkay? We can take a nap first."

"Mhm, okay."

This was exactly what he needed after weeks of stress and exhaustion— peace, warmth, and you. You who didn't bug him to tell you how was work, you who immediately pulled him into a hug the moment your front door welcomed him in, you who made him feel safe inside the quiet space of his room. You, you, you.

Soft snores were soon exhaled through his nose, his body now limp and flat against yours as he finally embraces his exhaustion and sleeps, surrounded by none other than the safe haven that he found in your arms as you craddle him against you.

All the worries that burden him are gone for now. He can worry about that some other day. And as you kiss the top of his head, your eyelids now getting heavy with sleep, you feel him snuggle into you more.

You fall asleep shortly after with a content and peaceful Minho in your arms who'll definitely cook you your favorite meal when he wakes up.

[armpittae]

hii! i rlly liked your texts w skz, can i request some boyfriend texts with jisung maybe? 🥹🫶

notes: thank you sm, love! and of course you can!! 💋 + pls ignore the times i made these all at once 😭

©️ strayedstars | do not repost

[armpittae]

prank texting boyfriend skz 'imagine if we were dating'

notes: this has been in my drafts for so long i have over 10+ drafts to finish help

©️ strayedstars | do not repost

chan (방찬)

minho (민호)

changbin (창빈)

hyunjin (현진)

jisung (지성)

felix (용복)

seungmin (승민)

jeongin (정인)

[armpittae]

can you do where boyfriend! skz are teasing w reader but say a joke that hurts their feelings and they realize and immediately apologize and make it up to you (fluff)

hi anon!! ty for being my first ask, im excited to write! not sure if you wanted full stories/drabbles but i hope you like what i did! <3 also i'm a bit unwell and drained from work so pls be kind. took so long because i ended up writing a lot for some.... like a lot OOPS i trailed off a bit to make it more realistic but asjsdkkjasd anyways im sorry if it's not exactly what u wanted ;_; i did my best, plus i didn't want to make it all the same i guess? but yeah about .6k for each member!

warnings will be written below member names!! all under the cut~

warnings for all: not completely proof read but wanted to answer this prompt asap!! i'm half asleep it's 3am pls also all gender neutral!

┋bang chan ┋

context: grocery store is never fun, especially when your boyfriend doesn't know how hard it can be for you. new!relationship, domestic bliss grocery shopping for a night in

warnings: slight ableism??? before he knows??? idk, chan a bit spicy with his words so not complete fluff my b, some cussing, not the fluffiest pls im sorry idk what HAPPENED

word count: .6k

chan grunts at you, eyes rolling, "i told you it's the wrong one you dumb dumb. "

you look down at the japanese curry powder, trying to make sense of the words written before you. you haven't been with chan for long, but he's treated you better than anyone you've ever met. he's kind, giving and always knows how to make you feel better. he knows that you're happier when it rains, he knows that you get angry whenever you lose a game, he loves that you always defeat him at uno and enjoys how you make a week long parade about it. he already loves you but definitely doesn't know it yet.

there is one thing you're still trying to gauge about chan is how sometimes he can shoot first and ask questions later, and this is one of those moments.

chan frowns, pointing at the curry packet in your hand. "this is the spicy one."

"i'm sorry." you say in a low tone, still trying to read the packet but the font is harder to read, "they look the same."

chan snatches the packet from your hand, placing it back next to the seemingly same ones. "well maybe if you read it you properly for once. i had the runs for like 2 days last time. you know me and spicy no agree."

"i can't.... sometimes."

chan turns to you. "huh?"

you take in a deep breath and speak fast, "i have dyslexia."

"what?" he questions confused.

it's then when the penny drops after a moment of silence. realization a wave over him, all the times he told you to read properly, how many times he made tut noises at your replies not having complete context and how he would grunt when you didn't comprehend something.

"why didn't you tell me? there's nothing wrong with that...?" he prods, gaze gentle towards you.

you fumble with your hands, picking at the skin at the sides of your thumb, your mind trying to find what to say. "i dunno."

he sounds so apologetic when he eventually speaks, he wonders how he could have been stupid. it makes sense. all the times you've told him about your ex and how he called you stupid and dumb for not reading well, making fun of you and saying you just don't pay attention. "i made fun of you so much... wow i'm a dick-

"no it's okay" you interrupt him, a small smile on your lips not wanting him to be hurt.

chan purses his lips while taking your hands in his. he looks at your eyes, his own intense and apologetic. "no- it's not okay, i make fun of you so much for thinking you just didn't pay attention, shit, i'm sorry. i joke all the time about how your brain is always else where."

and with that chan knows that he definitely could have picked up the pieces earlier, that you said it to him, without words. "i'm just... fuck i'm sorry."

"i just you know with my ex they-"

chan pulls you in for a tight hug, as if hushing the words you were about to spill, your glasses pushed against your eyes but you don't mind. he smells like fresh baby powder, his own scent you love mixing in with the clothes he's wearing. you know chan's going to make up for it and that he'll do everything to make you feel better. because you love him too, you just don't know it yet either.

﹋﹋﹋

┋changbin ┋

context: changbin loves working out and you love watching him, even if you don't think he doesn't know. freshly known feelings, uni!au, living together in dorm (i know you said !boyfriend but this was too good not to write hehe)

warnings: CHANGBIN SHAMELESSLY FLIRTING ACK, implications of taking a relationship further (physically), voyeur reader lmao

word count: .5k

you turn your gaze over to your friend, housemate or whatever you two had going on was called. you'd never really thought of changbin as someone you'd like, his gentle an soft nature was a contrast to the man currently a few metres away from you. weights in hand and grunts slipping from his mouth. you lean your head back to get a better angle, the veins on his arm revealing themselves. you knew he liked you and you liked him, but neither of you would dare to open that pandoras box. well, not until tonight.

it's a moment later that changbin stops his routine, almost meeting your stare. you raise your brows, attention turning back to the laptop in front of you. what on earth was i doing? you think, pretending to type something into the computer.

"thirsty?" he asks you, pretending he didn't noticed your eyes on him every now and then for the last half hour.

you turn your attention to him "wha?"

he laughs into his chest, stretching out his arms, "you have drool on the side of your mouth."

"i do- i do not!" you say slamming the laptop down, folding your arms on your chest knowing you've been caught.

changbin laughs, sitting down on the couch next to you, "didn't know i owned a dog."

you had no idea he could be this cheeky, making fun of you for simply watching him. after all, you were perving in a sense.

"don't make fun of me! i know i was... watching."

a smile dances on his lips, knowing that you can be sensitive to these things. "i'm sorry." he almost sounds apologetic... almost. "but... it's just too good to catch you out." he says in a slow almost seemingly mocking way.

"stop it." you mumble, facing the other way. "you know i have issues with... bringing this stuff up."

changbin tugs on your ear to gain your attention, feeling bad for making you feel slightly uncomfortable. but hey, you were the one watching. he smiles and says, "i know i know, i'm just teasing. i'm really sorry."

"i know but... please don't, this is hard for me."

"okay okay," he whines, gently lacing his fingers in yours, testing the waters to see if you'd be okay with this affection. "i promise i won't make fun of you, but if you wanna watch feel free to, don't have to be shy about it."

a blush dances across your cheeks and ears, your tummy suddenly feeling a knot of embarrassment grow. "changbiiiin." you groan, planting your face into the couch cushion.

"okay maybe i lied, i'll definitely enjoy making fun of you."

﹋﹋﹋

┋hyunjin ┋

context: you hate feet. hyunjin thinks it's funny. established!relationship, living together

warnings: obvi mentions of feet?? mentions of vomit

word count: .6k

hyunjin knew you hated feet, just how they looked, how they acted and gripped on the damn floor whenever someone would walk bare foot. hyunjin loved walking around the house barefoot, and it sometimes made you feel woozy, just the image of your own feet touching the floor... imagine. you shivered at the thought, sitting down on the couch next to your boyfriend, his feet dangling off the edge of the couch.

you pat your legs, instructing him wordlessly to lay on your lap. he complies without a thought, scooching back and nestling his head into your soft legs. he let's out a gentle "mm" as he settles in. "soft" he coos, rubbing his head a few times before turning his attention back to his switch.

after another episode of your favourite show, hyunjin suddenly brings his feet up, inspecting one of them. "i think i have glass in this one."

"do you need to do that here?" you say in a tone, eyes avoiding the grippers in sight.

"nah can you just check this one?" he says with difficulty, throwing his foot back towards your face. if you weren't so grossed out you'd probably be impressed by his flexibility.

"hyunjin please--" you swat away his foot with your phone, pushing yourself back into the couch.

"nah see in the big toe right here."

"hyunjin! you know i hate feet stop!"

he struggles, folding his body further to get his left foot near you, "babe just look here near the nail."

and that's when you feel a lump in your throat, nearly retching at the sight. the rice dish you had earlier suddenly feeling not so settled.

"oh shit." hyunjin says in a shock turning his attention to you, hearing your strangled noise. "are you okay?"

"no i'm not okay, go away." you say behind your hand.

shit, he knows he did wrong. his seemingly funny joke was definitely taken too far. he feels bad, real bad. he knew you didn't like feet but not this much. it'd never really come into question the time you'd been together, but god he had no idea.

"jeez i'm sorry." he's unsure where to place his hands and fumbles, words not forming correctly.

you sit in silence for a moment before regaining your thoughts. "don't. fucking. do. that."

hyunjin's eyes are pleading, the guilt in his face almost makes you not want to get him back but then realise you can use this to your advantage. you look over at the massage oils on the table and back at him. "i have an idea."

and you know he'll do whatever it takes. he still had glass in his foot, but that wasn't important right now.

------

┋felix ┋

context: felix thinks your tummy is cute, but you're just not used to it.

warnings: mentions of weight, body issues, tight clothing, BUT ITS FLUFF I PROMISEEEE, felix just a silly soft goose

word count: .6k

"come out please." felix begs, head leaning against the door.

you're sitting in the bathroom on the floor, dressed in nothing but your boxer underwear and a tight bed shirt, felix's bed shirt. you can feel the anxiety seeping into your chest, the weight of reality hitting you. you and your boyfriend had been together for only a month, but this was the first night you were staying at his house. it was on a whim, since most of the trains and buses had stopped running. and of course, you had nothing to wear. so there you were, tight shirt and all. you've never been uncomfortable with your body, if anything you love your body. but for some reason the way that felix talked about your stomach irked you. maybe he meant it as a joke? what did he mean? either way you were upset and needed space for a moment.

"please, i didn't mean it like that." felix sighs against the door, "it's soft and i love it."

you cast a sad expression towards the door. still unwavering from your position. why do you have anxiety now about this? all he did was grab your tummy and tell you it's soft like a kitten belly, or how it reminds him of those marshmallows that fold and how much he loves it because it's you, and he loves you.

you hear nothing but the cracking of a knee, felix bending down to put his fingers through the gap of the door underneath. he splays his fingers like a cat trying to get in the bathroom, darting against the tiles.

"lemme in!" he chimes, grunting to get his fingers further in. "i'll get in either way!" he jokes, using both of his hands under door to attack. it makes you laugh. it reminds me of those videos of cats wanting to get into the bathroom, or videos of racoons grabbing food.

"am i close?" he jokes, moving his hands back and forth.

you groan, stifling a laugh as you get up to open the door. "not even." you say, being met with pleading eyes. you look down at him, his hands still pretending to search where the door once was.

but he suddenly swoops you into a hug, hands around your waist, his head pressed into your soft chest, enjoying the smell of his shirt mixing in with your scent.

you relinquish any negative thoughts you have, melting into the hug. "i know you didn't mean it like that but, i think i'm just nervous... because it's you."

he pulls back, arms still wrapped round your waist, probably a bit too tight. "it wasn't a joke, i do love it." his eye are filled with nothing but love and adoration for you, your body an your mind.

"just... choose different words, please... i'm not a roll of marshmallows."

felix pulls back suddenly before gently pressing a swift kiss to your lips. "tastes sweet." he retorts about your statement, ignoring your words before kissing you again.

"i'm-seri-ous." you say between kisses, you feel his his hands digging into your hips.

instead of stopping, he grins, love apparent in his eyes. "my marshmallow."

you roll your eyes, a bit of anxiety still in your throat but knowing he adores marshmallows, you figure it's okay for now.

﹋﹋﹋

┋jisung ┋

context: a park date is cute until you get attacked my a crow, jisung think's it's funny. established!relatonship

warnings: jisung being a weenie, swearing

word count: .5k

the ground collides with your chest, the mud clouding your vision and your new shirt you brought for the date probably ruined. yep, i definitely tripped and yes it was embarrassing. you think, shame in your chest. of all the days, why your one year anniversary?

all you hear is the cackle behind you getting louder, sharp inhales of breath echoing in your ears. jisung has no shame, actively laughing at you stacking it to the ground.

"ahaha! the crow!!" he gurgles still, bending forwards over the picnic blanket, almost choking on his spit.

"jisung!" you yell, getting to your feet, seeing the mess on the front of you. that fucking crow, why did it choose me?

"jisung!" you yell louder, stomping over to the blanket, definitely covered in mud, dripping behind you as you walk.

"i'm sorry babe i'm-" he says between breathes.

you grunt before wiping the mud from your chest, still feeling it covering half of your face. "it's not funny."

"it fucking is."

jisung's laughs come to a halt as he realised you're upset upset, not just whining like you usually do. he notices how your eyes are suddenly pooling with wells. he stands to his feet and gently holds out his hands, "baby-"

"no!" you grumble, pulling your arms away, tears rolling down your cheek. "i just bought this top. now it's ruined." your dejected tone unsettles jisung, instantly feeling bad for making fun of you.

he says nothing, confused on how to react. but he waits patiently, allowing you to let out your feelings. he's always been good at this, always been patient with you.

after a breath you look back at him, red rings dancing around your eyes.

he smirks as he walks over to the mud and plainly sits down in it as if it what he was meant to do all along. you let out a small laugh, your hands wiping the rest of the mud from your face.

"what?" he asks plainly, as if nothing is weird. he grabs a handful of the mud before pressing it to his shirt, and then another handful to his hair, rubbing it in. "what's funny?"

you laugh behind your mud covered hand walking over to him. he smiles up at you like a puppy, knowing that he's succeeded in making you feel better.

and there he is, completely covered in mud, way more than you are and in that moment you fall just a little bit more in love with him. you lean down and press a gentle but muddy kiss onto his lips.

he stares up at you with nothing else to say, just sitting in the mud. you decide to join him, plopping down next to him, hand in hand as you both just sit in silence and completely covered in mud.

with jisung you didn't always needs words, sometimes the things he did for you were enough.

﹋﹋﹋

┋lee know ┋

context: you're getting ready to go out with friends, but your hair has other ideas, established!relationship, living together.

warnings/other: kisses??? idk, cuss words

word count: .5k

"it's not working!" you huff, re-straightening the side of your bangs for the 6th time. minho was confused at first, wondering why you're so upset over something trivial and small from his point of view. but when he looks up from his phone to see you struggling, his left hand still lazily patting one of his cats. he speaks without thinking,

"it's definitely like a pigs tail." he chuckles, looking back at his phone. in his mind, he assumes that he was just making a light hearted joke, thinking it was cute the way you got so upset over something he coined as small. plus, pig tails are very cute if you think about it.

it wasn't until you made a little sob that he noticed how you were actually feeling. you stare in the mirror, realizing it in fact does look like a pigs tail.

"baby-" he let's out a small but gentle sigh, "i was joking,"

"no you weren't. it... does look like a pig tail." you say between a small dejected sob, lips curled down and hands at your side as you avoid the mirror.

"let me help?" he says so gently as he approaches the bathroom door. instead of letting him help, you just melt into his chest immediately, your sobs muffled by his shirt. "i look like shit." you say defeated.

he lets out a light laugh, kissing the top of your head a few times, "you never look like shit, you know... even with your pig tail."

you step back, immediately hitting the tight muscles of his chest with both of your fists, "fuck off i swear." you talk through your teeth, still frustrated but feeling the urge to laugh in your throat.

"there you are," he says pleased at your spice, fighting with you to place a kiss on your temple, your hand starts pushing on his jaw, his lips puckered and ready. "c'mere." he says through your fingers, still pushing his head towards you, his hands gripping at your neck. "let me-- love you."

after a few minutes of roughhouse struggle, you push him back, feeing slightly better. it's in this moment you realize that you in fact do not enjoy asking anyone for help. but you speak, dejected tone apparent. "yeah... please help."

and nothing else is said while he fixes your hair, gently pressing small kisses on your cheeks as he does so. he knows he can sometimes say things without thinking, but he also knows that you sometimes enjoy just as much as he does. it's why you love him and why you two work so well together. after a few minutes he steps back to admire his masterpiece, a triumphant smile on his lips. "hmm," he ponders, "i liked the pig tail better."

"oi, don't start again you little shit" you say as you begin chasing after him, giggles dancing in with his own as he runs down the hall, nearly slipping on the rug. "get back here! you're in for it!"

﹋﹋﹋

┋seungmin┋

context: seungmin needs to shut his mouth sometimes, even if he doesn't know it. established!relationship, living together

warnings: seungmin being a spicy bitch, some playful physical aggression, kissing

word count: .5k

seungmin has you completely pinned under him on the couch as he covers you with kisses, not relinquishing his hold. "how many times do i have to say it?"

you grunt at the fact that he's weirdly strong in these situations, and as much as you struggle against his hold he's just completely powering over you. just the other day you were the one that had to help him open a jar. but thats besides the point. here seungmin is, currently trying to wiggle his way out of the fact that he took a joke too far. you're determined not to let him get away that easy.

you struggle once more against his hold, your legs flailing underneath him but he's just too damn strong.

he lets out a struggled breath, still above you. his hair falling gently from his face, "isn't sorry enough?"

you turn your head to the side, bottom lip pouting. "no."

"baby-"

you tut at him, tone almost darted, "don't baby me! you've lost your rights."

a gentle grin finds itself to dance over seungmin's face, he likes it when you fight back. he likes it when you put him in his place but still give him enough wiggle room to feel in charge.

"okay," he says with raised brows, "you win. i apologise."

you realise this is the perfect opportunity to get him back, for him making that stupid joke about something he knew you were insecure about.

"oh, whats this? kim seungmin, apologising, what was that?" you speak sarcastically. you're still under his hold, but you'll let it slide for now. "sorry i didn't quite catch that after you made me feel like shit for an entire hour. repeat?"

"i... apologise. i took it too far and i'm sorry."

you feel your chest rise, suddenly enjoying the power that seungmin has given to you. it takes a lot for him to admit he's wrong or that he's done wrong, this is just so damn satisfying.

"actually..." he trails off, letting your hands free a second before quickly grabbing the back of your neck. the kiss he planted on you was fast, and before you knew it you were laying back down on the couch, head dizzy from the sudden kiss, "you can't just make me forgive you with kisses." you speak in a semi-daze.

seungmin presses a kiss to your cheek and then a few more to your lips, the taste sweeter everytime. "i can, actually."

yeah, he's absolutely right. wait, what were we arguing about?

﹋﹋﹋

┋jeongin┋

context: jeongin fucked up, and he wants to make it better. fresh!relationship

warnings: none? kissing maybes, TOO MUCH CUTE

word count: .5k

it only took jeongin about half an hour to attempt to make it up to you.

sometimes being with jeongin was hard, as you both communicated in very different ways, it definitely was something you needed to work on. though, the one thing you loved about him is the absolute time and effort he put into making everything just perfect for you. when it came to you, everything he did for you was worth it.

after taking a walk to calm your thoughts, you realized you were still frazzled from the way jeongin teased you and how you ended up crying, resulting in him just left behind in a confused state. sometimes it took a while for the penny to drop with him, but once he got it, he really got it.

you step through the front door of his house, gently removing your sandals to be met with the sound of jeongin jumping up from the couch, hands out in a display. "ta-da!" he yells, it startles you.

you turn to meet eyes with your boyfriend, his face with a stupid grin slapped across it.

"what is-" and that's when you notice the many items splayed across the ground. there's a few towels on the lounge table, a tub of what seems to be hot soapy water, a box of facemasks and some nail polish next to it. the lighting is low and your favourite soundtrack is playing. you notice the scent in the room, jasmine tea, your favourite.

jeongin takes a deep breath in before showcasing his wares. "salon de jeongin"

"babe i-"

he steps forward, taking your hands in his before guiding you to sit down. "cmon" he coaxes gently, his beautiful dark eyes watching your every step. you say nothing as you follow him, unsure of what's happening.

as if he knows you're going to speak, he places a gentle kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry."

you marvel at the sight in front of you once more. the fact that he built you a whole salon in his living room within thirty minutes is mind blowing. he knows your favourite scent, your favourite songs and all the products you use. you didn't even realize he had those.

you're still at a loss for words, unsure of where to put your hands or body. jeongin just points to the chair, silly grin still plastered on his face and eyes wide.

you sit down in the chair, eyes darting to jeongin. "does it cost extra for shellac on my nails?"

jeongin pouts in thought, "just a kiss."

"i can do that." you say back at him. and that's all it takes, you know you'll talk later about this and how you can communicate better but this... this was enough for now. more than enough.

"actually," jeongin ponders before leaning so damn close to your face, "i think it's about 4 kisses."

-

DAMN THAT WAS SO LONG I SPENT LIKE AGES DOING THIS MY BAD, i know it's not exactly what u said but oh well i wanted to make them all different!!!! ty for asking!!!!!! <3

[armpittae]

FINDING YOUR INNER CHILD WITH SKZ

GENRE: fluff. fondness and affection galore. very self indulgent and comforting. WORD COUNT: 4.5k (500 each)

a/n: a little celebration of hitting 3k before the end of the year! i’m so grateful to everyone that reads my work, interacts with me and encourages me to keep trying. writing is really therapeutic to me and hearing other people can find comfort in my work makes me feel really warm. thank you!

CHAN — CLIMBING TREES

“Keeping going!” he calls out to you from below. He watches you as you wrap your arms around a thicker branch and squeeze your eyes shut. 

“I can’t, I’ll fall!” you shout back. 

You took early morning walks together often, whenever he’d had trouble sleeping and pulled an accidental all-nighter. You said it’d help wear him out a little, tucking him into bed when you got home with a kiss to his forehead. The tree climbing? This was new. You’d made an offhand comment about how nice it would be able to fly up over the treeline and see the sunset. He’d suggested climbing a tree and you’d scoffed like it was completely ridiculous. He’d quickly discovered you’d never even attempted it, not even as a child. 

“You won’t fall,” he encourages. “I’ll catch you if you do.” 

“Catch me?” you question, peeking an eye open. 

“Mm, I got you.” 

Your other eye opens and you look down at him, koala gripping to the branch. “Promise?” 

He smiles. “Yeah, baby. I promise.” 

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