lipstick-and-libraries

[lipstick-and-libraries]

Lanterns and Lightning Pt. 5

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: When Minho invites you to his family’s prestigious cultural festival, the evening becomes a collision of expectations and vulnerability. As a storm traps you together, secrets unravel, and the line between friendship and something more blurs.

𓋜 Notes:

hello my sweets!

I hope you're still having fun with this series, it's gotten longer now than I ever expected and since it shows that longer series dont seem to do so well I will have this wrapped up in the next 2 chapters or so, but dont think nothing interesting will happen because of that! (and while i do still enjoy this fandom, there will be many more things to come surrounding different interests of mine :) )

I hope you do enjoy this chapter, life is hectic, and this is one escape that makes it better, for me and hopefully for you.

Now buckle in and hold on tight, but most importantly, have fun!! <3

taglist<3:

@finnbbl

@literallysza

@knivesdoingcartwheels

@teaandbacon

@dragonwitchy

@formula1mount

@strayk1ds143

@uhsophiesblog

@iweirdthingsblog

@random-human02

@elizabethgracie

@verycoolmiyah

@mintydump

@shiiiii-okayyyy

@munsonsquinn

@tagakalat

@mirahyun

@cultish-corner

@reiofsuns2001

@chrissy2001

The library was quiet, afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows as Minho and (Y/N) hunched over their project notes. A week had passed since their 'study' night together, and though neither had acknowledged the shift between them outright, the air crackled with unspoken tension. Minho’s knee bounced under the table as he scribbled meaningless annotations in the margin of his notebook, his thoughts spiraling.

(Y/N) glanced up, her pen pausing mid-sentence. “You’ve been staring at that page for ten minutes. What’s wrong?”

Minho stiffened.

“Nothing.”

She arched a brow.

“Liar. You’ve rewritten the same sentence three times.”

He tossed his pen down, running a hand through his hair. His father’s text from that morning burned in his pocket: Bring someone respectable to the festival. No distractions.

The words felt like a noose.

“My family’s hosting this… thing,” he blurted.

“A cultural festival. For my dad’s foundation.”

(Y/N) tilted her head, waiting.

He swallowed, avoiding her gaze.

“I need a plus-one. Someone who can handle the… atmosphere.”

Her lips twitched. “Atmosphere?”

“Formal. Judgmental. My dad interrogating you about your bloodline and GPA,” he muttered, picking at the edge of his notebook.

She leaned back, studying him.

“And you’re asking me?”

He met her eyes then, his throat tight.

“You’re the only person I trust not to bolt when he starts grilling you about your ‘prospects.’”

The silence stretched, heavy and charged. (Y/N) tapped her pen against the table, her expression unreadable. Minho’s chest ached—had he misread everything?

Then she smiled, soft and sly.

“Do I get a fancy dress code?”

He exhaled sharply, relief flooding him.

“Yeah. But I’ll buy yours. If you want.”

She laughed, the sound warm and bright.

“Deal. But only if you promise not to vanish into ‘perfect son’ mode all night.”

Minho’s lips quirked.

“Deal.”

Later, alone in his dorm, he opened the anonymous blog, typing with shaky fingers:

Anonymous: Asked her to step into the lion’s den with me. She said yes. Why does that scare me more than the lions? —M.

Minho stood in front of the mirror in his dorm, adjusting his tie for what felt like the hundredth time. The crisp white shirt and tailored blazer were a far cry from his usual casual attire, but tonight wasn’t about him. It was about surviving his family’s annual cultural festival—a grand event hosted by his father to celebrate Korean heritage and, more importantly, to flaunt the achievements of the Moon family.

“You look like you’re about to walk into a war zone,” Q remarked, lounging on his bed with a bag of chips.

“Feels like it,” Minho muttered, smoothing down his hair.

Dae, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a game controller in hand, glanced up. “Why are you so stressed? It’s just a dinner. And you’re bringing (Y/N), right? She’s cool. She’ll handle your family like a pro.”

Minho shot him a look. “You don’t know my family.”

“True,” Dae conceded, shrugging. “But (Y/N) seems like she can handle anything. She’s got that… vibe, you know?”

Minho didn’t respond, but Dae’s words lingered in his mind. (Y/N) did have a way of making things seem less daunting, even if she didn’t realize it. Still, the thought of introducing her to his parents—especially his father—made his stomach churn.

(Y/N) was waiting outside her dorm when Minho arrived to pick her up. She looked effortlessly elegant in a simple dark red dress, her hair loosely curled and her makeup minimal. When she saw him, she smiled, and for a moment, Minho forgot how to breathe.

“You clean up nice,” she teased, her eyes scanning his outfit.

“You too,” he replied, his voice a little rougher than intended. He cleared his throat. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, falling into step beside him.

The ride to the festival was quiet, the hum of the car’s engine filling the silence. Minho kept glancing at (Y/N), trying to gauge her mood. She seemed calm, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was dragging her into something she didn’t fully understand.

“So, what’s the deal with this festival?” she asked, breaking the silence. “Your dad’s a big deal, right?”

Minho nodded, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Yeah. He’s… intense. This festival is his way of showing off. It’s all about tradition, excellence, and making sure everyone knows the Moon family is perfect.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Sounds fun.”

He snorted. “It’s not. Just… stick close to me, okay?”

She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ve got your back.”

The festival was held in a grand hall adorned with traditional Korean decorations—lanterns, hanbok displays, and intricate calligraphy. The air was thick with the scent of food and the sound of traditional music. Minho’s parents stood near the entrance, greeting guests with practiced smiles.

“Minho!” his stepmother exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she spotted him. She was dressed in a stunning hanbok, her elegance commanding attention. “And you must be (Y/N). It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

(Y/N) smiled politely, shaking her hand. “It’s an honor to be here, Mrs. Moon.”

Minho’s father, a tall man with an imposing presence, stepped forward. His gaze was sharp, scrutinizing (Y/N) in a way that made Minho’s skin crawl. “Minho tells us you’re working on a project together,” he said, his tone neutral but laced with expectation.

“Yes, sir,” (Y/N) replied, her voice steady. “We’re analyzing themes of identity in modern literature.”

Mr. Moon nodded, though his expression gave nothing away. “Interesting. Minho could use the intellectual stimulation.”

Minho clenched his jaw but said nothing. (Y/N), however, didn’t miss a beat. “Actually, Minho’s been a great partner. His insights have been invaluable.”

Minho’s father raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by her response. Before he could say more, (Y/N) smoothly redirected the conversation. “The decorations are beautiful. Did you design them yourself, Mrs. Moon?”

Minho’s stepmother beamed, launching into an explanation of the festival’s theme. Minho shot (Y/N) a grateful look, which she returned with a subtle wink.

As the evening progressed, Minho found himself relaxing more than he expected. (Y/N) had a way of diffusing tension, whether it was through her quick wit or her genuine interest in the people around her. She even managed to charm his notoriously hard-to-please aunt, who declared her “a breath of fresh air.”

At one point, Minho’s stepmother pulled him aside. “She’s lovely, Minho. I can see why you like her.”

Minho blinked, caught off guard. “It’s not like that. We’re just… friends.”

His stepmother gave him a knowing smile. “If you say so.”

Later that night, as they drove back to campus, the sky opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour. By the time they reached the dorms, the power was out, leaving the building in darkness.

“Great,” Minho muttered, pulling out his phone to use as a flashlight. “Guess we’re stuck here.”

(Y/N) laughed, shaking the rain from her hair. “Could be worse. At least we’ve got candles. You can come over”

They made their way to her room, where Kitty had already lit a few candles, casting a warm glow over the space. “Power’s out everywhere,” Kitty announced, grabbing her bag. “I’m heading to Yuri’s. You two have fun!”

Before either of them could protest, she was gone, leaving Minho and (Y/N) alone in the flickering light.

They sat on the floor, a blanket draped over their shoulders as the storm raged outside. The candles flickered, casting shadows on the walls. For a while, they talked about the festival, laughing over some of the more awkward moments.

But as the night wore on, the conversation grew quieter, more introspective.

“Your family’s… a lot,” (Y/N) said finally, her voice soft. “But I can see why you care so much about what they think.”

Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s exhausting, though. Trying to live up to their expectations.”

She turned to look at him, her eyes searching his face. “You don’t have to, you know. You’re enough just as you are.”

Her words hit him like a punch to the chest. He looked away, his throat tight. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” she pressed gently.

He hesitated, then let out a shaky breath. “Because… I’ve spent my whole life trying to be perfect. For them, for everyone. But with you… I don’t have to pretend. And that scares me.”

(Y/N) reached out, her hand brushing his. “You don’t have to be perfect, Minho. Not with me.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. The storm, the expectations, the weight of everything—it all faded away, leaving only the two of them.

Minho leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he whispered. “And I don’t know what to do with that.”

(Y/N) smiled, her breath warm against his skin. “You don’t have to do anything. Just… be here.”

The storm outside raged on, thunder shaking the walls of (Y/N)’s dorm room as candlelight flickered across their faces. Minho’s confession hung in the air like a live wire, raw and electric. Her hand still brushed his, the touch sending a current through him that made his chest ache.

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he repeated, his voice barely audible over the rain. “And I… I can’t stop thinking about you. Even when I try.”

(Y/N)’s breath hitched, her eyes locked on his. The candlelight caught the gold flecks in her irises, and for a moment, Minho forgot how to speak. Her fingers tightened around his, grounding him as the world spun.

“What are you saying?” she whispered, though the answer was already written in the way she leaned closer, her lips parting ever so slightly.

Minho’s pulse roared in his ears. Every rational thought—every fear of ruining their friendship, every warning about his family’s expectations—crumbled under the weight of wanting. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “I’m saying I’m done pretending. I’m saying I… I need you, (Y/N).”

The admission hung between them, fragile and trembling. Then, with a shuddering breath, he closed the distance.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was a collision of months of unspoken tension, a wildfire ignited by the spark they’d both tried to smother. (Y/N) tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his lips desperate and searching. The blanket slipped from their shoulders, forgotten, as Minho’s hands slid down her back, anchoring her against him. The taste of her—sweet, like the green tea she’d sipped earlier—drove him mad.

When they finally broke apart, gasping for air, Minho rested his forehead against hers, his voice ragged. “I’ve wanted to do that since… God, I don’t even know when.”

(Y/N) laughed breathlessly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “Took you long enough.”

He huffed a laugh, but his expression sobered. “This isn’t just… a moment, okay? I’m in this. With you.”

She studied him, her gaze soft but searching. “Even if it’s messy? Even if your family—?”

“Especially then,” he interrupted, pressing a kiss to her palm. “You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense to me.”

The admission hung between them, fragile and real. (Y/N) leaned in, her lips brushing his in a promise. “Then we’re in this together.”

The power returned hours later, flooding the room with harsh fluorescent light. They stayed tangled on the floor, (Y/N)’s head resting on Minho’s chest as his fingers traced idle patterns on her arm. The storm had quieted to a drizzle, the world outside feeling miles away.

“You should stay,” she murmured, her voice drowsy. “Kitty won’t be back until morning.”

Minho pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The next morning, Minho slipped back into his dorm just as Q and Dae were stumbling out of their rooms.

“Dude, where’ve you been?” Q squinted at him, clutching a cereal bowl. “You look like you got hit by a truck. A happy truck.”

Dae snorted, leaning against the doorframe. “More like a (Y/N)-shaped truck.”

Minho froze, his ears burning. “Shut up.”

Q’s eyes widened. “Wait. Did you—?”

“None of your business,” Minho snapped, but the grin tugging at his lips betrayed him.

Dae whooped, throwing a pillow at him. “Told you she’d crack him!”

“You’re both insufferable,” Minho muttered, though he couldn’t fight the warmth spreading through his chest.

Later, alone at his desk, he pulled out his phone and opened the anonymous blog. His thumb hovered over the keyboard before typing:

“Turns out, letting someone see the real you isn’t the end of the world. It’s the beginning. —M.”

He hit send, then leaned back in his chair, a quiet smile on his face. For the first time, the future didn’t feel like a burden. It felt like a promise.

[lipstick-and-libraries]

Between the Lines

PT. 4

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: When You and Minho are paired for a class project, unexpected moments of honesty and tension arise. Between late-night conversations and shared silences, you discover that some things are harder to hide than you thought.

𓋜 Notes:

Hello my loves!!

I know that I take a while to upload, however, i fully intend to finish this small series and still give you more than just 4 chapters, soo..what would you think about another chapter coming out directly after this as a thank you for everyone who so kindly supports my thoughts that I didnt expect anyone to see.

Anyhow, I hope you guys are fans of slowburn and heartbreak because from now on this rollercoaster will get a little more bumpy, love will do that to you, and especially to You and Minho <3

𓋜 Taglist:

@finnbbl

@literallysza

@knivesdoingcartwheels

@teaandbacon

@dragonwitchy

@formula1mount

@strayk1ds143

@uhsophiesblog

@iweirdthingsblog

@random-human02

@elizabethgracie

@verycoolmiyah

@mintydump

@shiiiii-okayyyy

@munsonsquinn

@tagakalat

@mirahyun

@cultish-corner

A special thank you to everyone on the taglist, i love you guys ꨄ

Please do let me know if i have forgotten you, i keep the names in my notes app so i shouldnt forget anyone but if it happens anyway i am deeply sorry

If you want to be added to the taglist, just put it in the comments, your reposts or in my asks, even if I havent answered I 100% have seen it and added you <33

Enough talking from my side though, enjoy you study date with Minho

The buzz from the creative showcase announcement still lingered around KISS like an unspoken challenge. Posters were plastered on every wall, reminding students of the looming event hosted by none other than Minho’s father—a showcase designed to highlight the best talents at the school. For most, it was an opportunity. For Minho, it was a reminder of everything he tried to avoid: expectations, vulnerability, and being seen beyond the carefully curated persona he presented to the world.

But none of that mattered right now.

Because Minho was staring at the name list posted outside his literature class, and there it was—bold and undeniable:

Group Project Partners: Minho & (Y/N)

He blinked, hoping his eyes were deceiving him. They weren’t.

“Wow,” Q’s voice broke through Minho’s silent panic, appearing over his shoulder with an amused grin. “Fate really isn’t subtle, huh?”

Dae chuckled beside him, leaning casually against the wall. “You’ll survive. Maybe.”

Minho shot them both a glare before shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s just a project. No big deal.”

But it was a big deal. Because every time he was around (Y/N), he turned into the version of himself he didn’t recognize—awkward, uncertain, and far too aware of every glance, every word, every silence. She had this way of looking at him, like she could see past the walls he’d built, and it unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

The first meeting was scheduled for the library, an attempt to maintain some semblance of professionalism. Minho arrived early—an unfamiliar habit—but he told himself it was because he wanted to pick the best table. Definitely not because he was nervous.

He chose a spot near the back, where the shelves of books created a semi-private alcove. The table was sturdy, the chairs comfortable, and the lighting just bright enough to work without being harsh. He set his bag down, pulled out his notebook, and tried to focus on the assignment sheet. But his mind kept drifting, replaying every interaction he’d ever had with (Y/N), searching for clues on how to navigate this.

When she finally arrived, balancing her laptop and a stack of books, she gave him a polite nod. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Minho replied, sitting up straighter than necessary. He gestured to the chair across from him. “I figured this spot would be quiet enough.”

“Good call,” she said, sliding into the seat and setting her things down. She opened her laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating her face as she pulled up their assignment. “So, any ideas?”

Minho scrambled to focus. “Uh, yeah. Maybe we could… compare themes? Like, how the author explores identity or something.”

(Y/N) glanced at him, her expression neutral. “That’s vague.”

“Well, it’s a start,” he muttered defensively, crossing his arms over his chest.

She sighed softly, but there was no malice in it. “Okay. Let’s break it down.”

They worked in relative silence, punctuated by occasional questions and the awkward brush of hands when they reached for the same notebook. Minho tried to ignore the way his heart raced at the brief contact, the way her proximity made it hard to think straight. He wasn’t used to feeling this off-balance, and it frustrated him.

But the real shift happened two hours in.

Minho leaned back in his chair, frustrated with a section they couldn’t seem to crack. “This is pointless.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, not looking up from her notes. “The project or your attitude?”

He shot her a look, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes that disarmed him. “Both,” he admitted grudgingly.

She set her pen down and tilted her head, studying him. “Why do you always act like nothing bothers you?”

The question caught him off guard. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got this… façade,” she said, gesturing vaguely. “Like you’ve got everything figured out. But clearly, you don’t.”

Minho’s jaw tightened. “And you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

She shrugged. “No. But you make it pretty easy to see through the act.”

The words stung more than he expected because they were true. He looked away, his fingers tapping restlessly against the edge of the table. Before he could respond, her phone buzzed. She glanced at it briefly, then stood. “I need a break. Coffee?”

Minho hesitated, then stood too. “Yeah. Sure.”

The café near campus was quiet. They sat by the glass, sipping their drinks, the tension from earlier lingering like static. Minho stirred his coffee absently, watching the steam rise in delicate swirls.

“I didn’t mean to hit a nerve,” (Y/N) said eventually, her voice soft. She stirred her own drink, her gaze fixed on the swirling liquid.

Minho stared at his cup. “I’m just used to people assuming things about me, especially because my parents, well, mostly my father, aren't, well.."

He gets quieter with every word, his expression almost showing the hate he has for himself for even mentioning it, or hatred for his father, it was hard for (Y/N) to tell.

"I don’t usually care, but…”

She knew he wasn't going to continue on with the story about his parents, but (Y/N) let him, knowing that if he wanted to, he will bring it up again when he is ready to tell her.

“But?” she prompted gently, her eyes lifting to meet his.

“But you’re not ‘people,’” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended.

She blinked, clearly not expecting that. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Well, that’s vague.”

Minho laughed softly, the tension easing slightly. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“You’re not as complicated as you think, Minho,” she added, her gaze steady.

And just like that, the air shifted again.

That night, back in his dorm, Minho couldn’t shake the conversation. He sat at his desk, staring at his phone, his thumb hovering over the anonymous blog app.

Dae was scrolling on his phone, and Q was fiddling with his headphones, oblivious to Minho’s internal turmoil. Without overthinking, Minho typed:

“How do you stop caring about what someone thinks of you when they see through you so easily? Asking for a friend.”

He hit send before he could regret it, then tossed his phone aside, burying his face in his hands.

The next project meeting was different.

They worked in her dorm this time, Kitty buzzing around briefly before leaving with a sly, knowing grin. Minho tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the papers spread across the floor. For whatever reason, (Y/N), decided to dress up. Not that it mattered, in Minho's Eyes, she, for whatever reason, wasnt physically capable of ever looking bad anyway. She always looked… effortless.

“Do you ever write just for yourself?” Minho asked suddenly, surprising even himself.

She glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly. Minho wondered what that look was about, but decided not to question it for now

“Sometimes. Why?”

“Just curious.”

She hesitated, then reached for a notebook tucked under a pile of papers. “I guess writing helps me make sense of things. Even if no one reads it.”

Minho nodded, understanding more than he wanted to admit. “Yeah. I get that.”

After a pause, she added softly, “It’s scary, though. Being honest on paper.”

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “But it’s scarier being honest out loud.”

Their eyes met, something unspoken passing between them. For a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them, the weight of their shared vulnerability hanging in the air.

"I..", Minho hesitated, his eyes flicking between hers and the wall behind her.

The Room was dim, light enough to see the papers, but dark enough to hide (Y/N)'s quick glance at the subtle twitch in Minho's jaw.

Which is exactly why her next movement caught him so off-guard.

She lifted her hand, placing it on his cheek and softly caressing his jawline with her thumb.

Minho was used to romantic affection and the touches that came with it, with this many people wanting to get atleast a part of you it was like a handshake at best, at least thats what he would usually think.

But this was...something else entirely.

His eyes went wide, looking at her without even attempting to hide it.

She chuckled, giving him a smile before leaning close to him, his eyes quickly switching from her eyes to her lips, only to repeat the same motion.

To his dissatisfaction, she only wrapped her arms around him tightly, rubbing small circles into his back. He hugged her back just as tight, without thinking about it at all

Minho was uncertain, but they almost felt heart shaped. Whether that was just his imagination, or reality, he didnt dare to ponder about it further.

She let go of him, resorting to only grabbing his hand and giving in three subtle squeezes.

Before either of them could break the moment by saying anything, Kitty burst through the door, dramatically complaining about Yuri, effectively shattering the tension.

But it didn’t matter.

Because the only thing he could think about, was how she didnt move her hand, not even by an inch, and to him, it felt like a promise.

[lipstick-and-libraries]

Echoes of the Heart PT. 3

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: A planned gala, Kitty's plans, managing your writing, and between all of that, the lingering feeling between you and Minho

𓋜 Notes: Thank you for waiting so patiently!! I have a lot going on rn but still want to give you your well deserved chapter, this might feel like a lot of progress in one, but I need the foundation for whats about to come ;)

Hope you have fun <3

Taglist <33: @finnbbl @literallysza @knivesdoingcartwheels @teaandbacon @dragonwitchy @alexandralibbre @formula1mount @strayk1ds143 @uhsophiesblog @iweirdthingsblog @random-human02 @elizabethgracie @verycoolmiyah @navs-bhat

The news broke over the school announcements during lunch. Students at KISS paused mid-bite as Headmaster Lim’s voice echoed through the speakers.

“Attention students: This year’s highly anticipated Creative Showcase will be held next Friday evening, sponsored by none other than world-renowned entertainment executive Mr. Kim Minho. Students are encouraged to participate in this event to share their talents and creativity. We look forward to seeing the incredible work our student body has to offer.”

Kitty perked up immediately, clapping her hands together. “Oh, this is perfect!” she exclaimed, looking at (Y/N), who sat across from her in the cafeteria.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow. “Perfect for what?”

“For you! You should totally sign up and read one of your poems or stories,” Kitty said.

“I don’t know…” (Y/N) said, hesitating. “Sharing my writing in front of a bunch of people sounds terrifying.”

“Oh, come on,” Kitty pressed. “It’s an amazing opportunity! Plus, you’ve been writing non-stop lately. This could be your moment!”

As Kitty continued to gush, Minho appeared, sliding into the seat beside (Y/N) with his usual air of nonchalance. “What’s she dragging you into now?”

“The showcase,” Kitty said before (Y/N) could reply. “She’s going to read one of her pieces.”

She thinks for a minute, looking Minho up and down before grinning

“What about you?” Kitty asked, turning her attention to Minho. “You should play something on the piano. You do still play, right?”

Minho stiffened, his usual smug expression faltering for a moment. “Not a chance.”

“Why not?” (Y/N) asked, genuinely curious.

“Because,” Minho said, leaning back in his chair, “it’s not my thing anymore.”

Kitty scoffed. “Your thing? Please. You were amazing at the gala last year. Everyone knows it.”

Minho rolled his eyes, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m not signing up. End of discussion.”

Later that evening, back in his dorm with Q and Dae, Minho couldn’t get the conversation out of his head.

“You’ve been quiet,” Q said, glancing up from his desk. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Minho said, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

Dae smirked. “Let me guess—something to do with (Y/N)?”

Minho shot him a glare. “No.”

Q snickered. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Minho sighed, tossing his phone onto the bed. “Fine. She’s signing up for that stupid showcase, and Kitty’s trying to drag me into it too.”

“And you’re not interested because…?” Q prompted.

“Because it’s pointless,” Minho said. “I don’t need to show off to a bunch of random people.”

“Or maybe,” Dae said, grinning, “you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Minho snapped.

“Then prove it,” Q said.

The next day, Minho found himself lingering outside Kitty and (Y/N)’s dorm. He didn’t know why he was there, but when (Y/N) opened the door and raised an eyebrow at him, he panicked.

“Hey,” he said quickly. “You got a minute?”

(Y/N) stepped aside to let him in. “What’s up?”

Minho hesitated, glancing around the room. Kitty was nowhere in sight. “I heard you’re signing up for the showcase,” he said finally.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said, her tone cautious. “Why?”

“I was thinking,” Minho said, struggling to keep his voice casual, “if you’re doing it, maybe I could…you know, help you out.”

(Y/N) stared at him, clearly suspicious. “Help me how?”

“Like, give you feedback or something,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m pretty good at knowing what works.”

“You want to critique my writing?” (Y/N) said, crossing her arms.

“No,” Minho said quickly. “I just thought—” He broke off, unsure how to explain himself.

(Y/N) tilted her head, studying him. “Why do you care so much?”

“I don’t,” Minho said, a little too fast. “I just…thought it might be cool to work together.”

Something in his tone made (Y/N) pause. She softened slightly. “Okay,” she said. “But only if you sign up too.”

Minho blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” (Y/N) said, smirking now. “If you want to ‘help,’ you have to perform something too. Deal?”

Minho hesitated, his pride warring with the strange pull he felt toward her. Finally, he sighed. “I'll think about it, but it's not very likely”

The next week passed in a whirlwind of preparation. Minho spent his evenings practicing piano in secret, while (Y/N) worked on editing her piece. They met up occasionally to exchange updates, though their interactions were often filled with teasing and tension.

One evening, after a particularly long session, Minho walked (Y/N) back to her dorm. The rain had started again, a soft drizzle that clung to the air.

“Why did you really sign up?” (Y/N) asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

Minho glanced at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“You didn’t want to do it at first, said you wouldnt, and then still decided to do it even though you didnt have to” she said. “What changed?”

Minho hesitated, his usual confidence faltering. “I guess…you did.”

(Y/N) stopped walking, turning to face him. “What?”

“I mean, I saw how passionate you were about it,” Minho said quickly, avoiding her gaze. “It made me think…maybe it’s worth a shot.”

The vulnerability in his voice caught her off guard. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The rain continued to fall, soft and steady.

“You’re full of surprises, Minho,” (Y/N) said finally, her voice quiet but sincere.

“So are you,” he replied, meeting her eyes.

They both subconsiously leaned in, not completely, but close enough so they could feel the others stuttering breath on their face

(Y/N) wanting to glance up to take in the situation as a whole, even though she was afraid, looked up, to find Minho already beating her to it

The intensity of his gaze made (Y/N)’s breath catch. She looked away, her heart pounding, and started walking again. Minho followed, the moment lingering between them like an unspoken promise.

Back in his dorm that night, Minho opened his phone to the anonymous blog. He typed a new post, his fingers trembling slightly.

“Is it possible to be drawn to someone because they make you feel something you’ve never felt before? To see them, and suddenly feel like you want to be more?”

He stared at the words for a long moment before hitting send.

And someone, somewhere, would stumble across it the next morning—and wonder who had written it.

Part 4

[lipstick-and-libraries]

⋆·˚ ༘ * Masterlist ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Welcome to my Masterlist! ꨄ

I haven't written much, but i think this is better than clicking through thousands of links by yourself, I hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as I enjoy writing them <3

credits to my lovely proofreader @ourgodandsavoirivy 💕

𓋜 The Roommate Exchange (XO Kitty's Minho x fem!Reader)

-> Part 1 "New Dorm, New Chances?"

-> Part 2 "Rainfall and Realizations"

-> Part 3 "Echoes of the Heart"

-> Part 4 "Between the Lines"

-> Part 5 "Lanterns and Lightning"

[lipstick-and-libraries]

Rainfall and Realizations PT.2

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: A rainy afternoon in Kitty’s and your dorm brings you closer to her charming but flustered friend, Minho. Between teasing remarks, upcoming secrets and an unexpected walk, sparks begin to fly as Minho starts to see you in a new light.

𓋜 Notes:

Hello again!,

I just want to say, I'm so surprised that the first little drabble has reached about 100 people at this point, thank you to everyone reading and leaving a like <3

While I didn't think I'd be continuing the first part, I am very very happy to do so. I have a couple Ideas, so lets see how long this little slowburn is gonna take, but do feel free to give feedback, ideas or corrections :)

Thank you again, and I hope you have fun with this next part, and the newest little secret (Y/N) possibly has

Taglist!! <3: @finnbbl, @literallysza(tysm, ily)

The days following Minho’s first meeting with (Y/N) were…confusing. For someone who prided himself on being the most self-assured person at KISS, Minho now found himself unsettled, distracted, and unusually tongue-tied.

He hated how much he found himself looking for excuses to hang out in Kitty’s dorm, pretending to help with her chaotic plans or offering to grab coffee with her, only to find himself scanning the room for (Y/N).

And then there was (Y/N) herself. If she noticed Minho’s newfound awkwardness, she didn’t let on. She greeted him the same way every time—calm, composed, and polite but never overly enthusiastic. It drove him crazy.

One rainy afternoon, Minho found himself at Kitty’s dorm again. It had become a ritual of sorts—Kitty would ramble on about her latest love triangle (or square, depending on the day), and Minho would half-listen, his attention split between her words and the hope that (Y/N) would walk in.

“…and then she had the nerve to ask if I wanted to go shopping with her,” Kitty was saying, pacing the small living room.

Minho leaned back on the couch, pretending to listen. His attention kept drifting to the door.

“And you’re not even listening,” Kitty said, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

“What? No, I am,” Minho said quickly. “Shopping with Yuri. Terrible idea. Definitely don’t do it.”

Kitty sighed, flopping onto the armchair across from him. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

Before Minho could respond, the door creaked open. (Y/N) stepped inside, balancing a tray of fresh cookies. She glanced at them, her lips curving into a small smile.

“Kitty, I made a little something for you,” she said, setting the tray on the counter. Her gaze flickered to Minho briefly. “Oh. Hi, Minho.”

Minho straightened up instinctively. “Hey.”

Kitty raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. “Cookies? You’ve been spoiling me lately, (Y/N).”

“It’s nothing,” (Y/N) said, putting a couple of them on a platter for Kitty and sliding it across the counter. “I wanted to take some time to bake something again anyway.”

Minho hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Any left over for me?”

(Y/N) glanced at him, her expression unreadable, before nodding. She prepared another plate and handed it to him. Their fingers brushed briefly as he took it, and Minho felt his stomach flip.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking a bite to hide his reaction.

As the rain pattered against the windows, the three of them settled into a strangely comfortable rhythm. Kitty alternated between brainstorming ideas and scrolling through her phone, while Minho and (Y/N) exchanged occasional remarks about the weather and school.

Minho found himself watching (Y/N) more than he intended. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her plate balanced precariously on the edge of the table. Her hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity, and she wore an oversized sweater that looked impossibly soft.

“So,” (Y/N) said suddenly, looking at Minho. “What’s your role in Kitty’s master plan today?”

Minho blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, I’m the…idea guy?”

“Really?” (Y/N) said, raising an eyebrow. “Because it seems like Kitty’s doing all the talking.”

Kitty snorted. “Exactly. He’s useless.”

“Hey,” Minho protested, feigning offense. “I’m providing moral support.”

“Moral support doesn’t count if you’re just sitting there looking pretty,” (Y/N) said, her tone light but teasing.

Minho’s cheeks flushed at the unexpected compliment—or was it an insult? He couldn’t tell.

“Looking pretty is a full-time job,” he shot back, recovering quickly.

(Y/N) smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Must be exhausting.”

Soon after, (Y/N) excused herself to work on her writing, leaving Minho and Kitty alone again.

“You’re staring,” Kitty said, not looking up from her phone.

“What?” Minho said, snapping out of his thoughts.

“At (Y/N),” Kitty clarified, smirking. “You’ve been staring at her all afternoon.”

“I have not,” Minho said, a little too quickly.

“Right,” Kitty said, drawing out the word. “You’re so obvious, it’s painful.”

Minho groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not…staring. I just think she’s—”

“Gorgeous?” Kitty supplied.

Minho sighed. “Fine. Yes. But it’s not like that.”

“Sure it isn’t,” Kitty said, her smirk widening.

The tea that was made to go along with the cookies was long gone, the rain still drumming softly against the windows, and Minho couldn’t stop replaying the interaction in his head. Her words—“Must be exhausting”—had been light, teasing, but there was something about the way (Y/N) looked at him when she said it. Not dismissive, not disinterested. Amused, maybe even intrigued. Or was he imagining that?

“Minho,” Kitty’s voice cut through his thoughts, dragging him back to reality.

“Huh?”

Kitty rolled her eyes dramatically. “You’re really bad at hiding it.”

“Hiding what?” he said, attempting a casual shrug that probably looked as awkward as it felt.

“You, staring at her like she’s some mysterious treasure map you’re trying to figure out,” Kitty said, her smirk firmly in place.

“I don’t stare,” Minho said defensively. “I glance. Occasionally, and don't mention it again, we just talked about that 20 minutes ago!”

Kitty let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You’re in trouble, I'm just trying to get that into your head”

“I’m not,” Minho insisted, though the heat rising in his cheeks told a different story. “I just think she’s…interesting.”

“Oh, she is,” Kitty agreed. “But don’t think you’re going to win her over by just sitting here and looking pretty.”

“I don’t—” Minho started, but Kitty cut him off.

“Please. I know you. You think a few charming smiles and a well-timed compliment are all it takes.”

Minho scowled, but he couldn’t exactly argue. That had worked for him in the past. “And what, oh wise Kitty, do you suggest I do?”

Kitty tilted her head, considering. “Maybe try talking to her. Actually talking. Ask her about her life, her interests—be genuine for once.”

Minho opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the door to (Y/N)’s room creaked open. She stepped out, clutching her laptop and a notebook, her hair pulled into a clip-up hairstyle.

“I’m heading to the library,” (Y/N) said, glancing between them.

“In this weather?” Kitty asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s quieter when it’s raining,” (Y/N) said with a small shrug.

"Besides, I want to meet up with a guy that needs tutoring, he's hopeless"

"Just some guy, huh?" Minho pauses for a second, watching her every move.

"A random guy that you're bringing some of your cookies?"

(Y/N turns around, facing him with a judging look: "If you really think about it, you're also 'Just a Guy' at the moment"

Minho's brows furrow, and you could almost hear Kitty's low wince in reaction to her statement

“I’ll walk with you,” Minho said, standing before he even realized what he was doing.

(Y/N) blinked, clearly surprised. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Minho said, his tone a little too eager. He quickly added, “I mean, I’ve been cooped up here for hours. I could use some air.”

Kitty barely stifled a laugh, but (Y/N) simply nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure.”

Minho grabbed his jacket, ignoring Kitty’s smug expression as he followed (Y/N) out the door.

The rain had softened into a light drizzle by the time they stepped outside. (Y/N) pulled her hood up, clutching her laptop bag close as they walked.

“So,” Minho began, struggling to find a topic. “The library, huh? Big plans?”

“I just need some quiet to work,” (Y/N) said, glancing at him briefly.

“On what?” he asked, genuinely curious.

She hesitated for a moment before answering. “I write sometimes. Nothing major.”

“Like essays?” Minho guessed.

“Not exactly,” she said, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “More like…thoughts. Stories. Poetry, sometimes.”

Minho raised an eyebrow, genuinely impressed. “Wow. I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you do,” (Y/N) said lightly.

They walked in silence for a moment, the rain-soaked campus unusually quiet around them. Minho found himself stealing glances at her, trying to piece together the puzzle of who she was.

“What about you?” (Y/N) asked suddenly, catching him off guard. “What do you do when you’re not hanging out with Kitty or obsessing over your wardrobe?”

“I don’t obsess over clothes, or only hang out with Kitty” Minho said defensively.

(Y/N) gave him a knowing look: "You cant deny the fashion thing, and you do hang out with Kitty a lot at the moment, you seem to be attached at the hip"

“Okay, maybe a little, but not the Kitty thing! She's nice don't get me wrong, but..” he admitted, stopping his rant when he saw (Y/N)'s expression

“But I do other things. Like…uh…” He faltered, realizing he didn’t have a good answer. “I’m pretty into music,” he said finally. “I play piano.”

(Y/N)’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” she said, her tone teasing. “You don’t exactly give off ‘classical music prodigy’ vibes.”

“First of all, I’m not a prodigy,” Minho said. “And second, I’m full of surprises.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” (Y/N) said, her faint smile returning.

They reached the library steps, and (Y/N) paused, turning to face him.

“Thanks for walking with me,” she said.

“Anytime,” Minho said, and for once, he meant it.

(Y/N) hesitated, like she wanted to say something else, but instead, deciding for an alternative.

"Minho?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever get lonely when Kitty's out causing chaos, feel free to stop by anyway, alright?"

Minho and her shared a smile before she nodded and disappeared through the library doors.

Minho stood there for a moment, watching the door close behind her. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, replaying their conversation in his head. It wasn’t much, but it felt like progress.

By the time he got back to the dorm, Kitty was waiting for him, sprawled out on the couch with a knowing grin.

“Well?” she asked.

“Well, what?”

Kitty rolled her eyes. “How’d it go? Did you manage to form a complete sentence?”

“Very funny,” Minho said, kicking off his shoes. “We talked.”

“And?”

“And…she’s interesting,” Minho admitted, flopping onto the couch.

She gave him an expecting look, leaning forward towards him

He have her a judgy up-and-down look before asking: "What?"

Kitty groaned and shook her head.

"And? There was something else I know it"

Minho's lips twitched into something resembling a smile before gaining back his facial control

"Well...", he hesitated for a second, "She did indirectly invite me to hang out?"

Kitty’s grin widened. “You’re so doomed.”

That night, as Minho sat at his desk, he found himself scrolling through his phone, staring at the submission screen for the anonymous blog everyone at KISS loved. He didn’t know why he was considering it, but something about (Y/N)’s quiet confidence had gotten under his skin.

Without overthinking, he typed out a message:

“How do you get to know someone who’s completely different from anyone you’ve ever met? Someone who makes you feel like you’re not as put together as you think you are?”

He hesitated before hitting send, then shook his head and closed the app. It wasn’t like she would ever see it.

Or so he thought.

part 3

[lipstick-and-libraries]

New Dorm, New Chance? PT. 1

𓋜 Pairing: Minho (XO, Kitty) x fem! Reader

𓋜 Series: The Roommate Exchange

𓋜 Summary: You are Kitty's new Roommate, after she decided to switch Rooms to avoid Yuri and Juliana, and it's not long until you get the opportunity to meet her first roommates.

𓋜 Notes:

Hey <3

I don't know if anyone is gonna read this at all, but I decided to get back into writing, and due to Season Two coming out, I have an unhealthy obsession with XO, Kitty. So, I sat down, saw the lack of XO, Kitty fics and created a little something, I hope you enjoy! I'd be grateful for any kind of feedback

The second semester at KISS was off to a chaotic start, as usual, but for Kitty Song Covey, things were finally starting to settle down. After pleading with the principal, she’d managed to switch dorms and move in with a close friend of hers, (Y/N). It was a decision that made perfect sense—Kitty needed a break from the awkward tension of her old room, and (Y/N)’s calming presence was exactly what she needed to focus on her whirlwind of romantic and academic entanglements.

(Y/N) had been nothing short of the perfect roommate. She was effortlessly chic, deeply intuitive, and, unlike most students at KISS, refreshingly down-to-earth. Kitty often marveled at how (Y/N) could command attention without even trying. The girl had a natural elegance that seemed to enchant everyone she met.

One Saturday afternoon, Kitty left their shared dorm to meet up with Yuri to continue the search for her family. “Dae, Minho, and Q might stop by later,” she called over her shoulder. “I told them they could hang out until I’m back.”

“Got it,” (Y/N) replied, lounging on the kitchen counter with a book in her hands.

When Minho, Dae, and Q arrived at Kitty’s new dorm, Minho was mid-rant about his latest gym mishap.

“Who even uses the elliptical when the treadmill’s free? It’s practically a crime—”

“Minho,” Q interrupted, rolling his eyes. “You’ll live. Just knock on the door.”

Minho sighed dramatically before rapping his knuckles against the door. When no one answered, he opened it cautiously.

“Kitty? We’re here—”

But it wasn’t Kitty who greeted them. Instead, they were met with the sight of (Y/N) sitting on the kitchen counter, one leg crossed over the other, a book perched casually in her hands. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to frame her like a painting, catching the soft waves of her hair and the slight smirk on her lips.

Minho stopped mid-step, his usual self-assured demeanor faltering.

“Oh,” (Y/N) said, glancing up from her book. Her voice was smooth, effortlessly composed. “You must be Kitty’s friends.”

Dae offered a polite smile. “Yeah, I’m Dae. That’s Q, and… Minho.”

(Y/N) nodded, her eyes flickering briefly to Minho, who was still standing frozen by the door.

“Kitty mentioned you might drop by,” (Y/N) said, closing her book and hopping off the counter with a grace that made Minho’s heart stutter. “She’s out snooping with Yuri again, but you’re welcome to wait here.”

“Cool, thanks,” Q said, settling onto the couch. Dae followed suit, but Minho hesitated, still trying to gather his thoughts.

“She’s—” Minho started, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. He coughed, trying to sound casual. “She didn’t say her new roommate was…you know, you.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She wasn't exactly popular by any means, but she also wasn't completely unknown. She leads a couple of language and study courses, and word spread that its not only brains, but beauty too that convinced people to visit her student courses.

As the afternoon wore on, Minho found himself increasingly distracted. While Dae and Q scrolled through their phones and chatted, Minho’s attention kept drifting to (Y/N). There was something about her thsn threw him off, and not in a bad way. Where most people at KISS seemed eager to impress or compete, (Y/N) seemed content just to exist in her own world.

She didn’t try to fill the silence with small talk or flashy gestures. Instead, she moved with an easy confidence, offering the occasional witty comment that left Minho scrambling for a clever response.

At one point, she caught him staring.

“Something on your mind?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Minho flushed. “Uh, no. Just…trying to figure out what book you were reading before.”

(Y/N) held up the cover—an old, leather-bound edition of Wuthering Heights.

Minho blinked. “You’re reading…that? Isn’t it, like, super depressing?”

“It’s beautiful,” (Y/N) countered, a faint smile playing on her lips. “And complicated. Kind of like people. You should borrow it sometime”

Minho didn’t know how to respond to that, so he settled for an awkward nod.

After an hour, Q and Dae decided to head out to grab food. “You coming, Minho?” Dae asked, already halfway out the door.

“I’ll catch up,” Minho said quickly, waving them off.

(Y/N) lead the two boys to the door, giving them the spare key Kitty had told her to give to them, and apologizes for Kitty being this late. Once the door closed, the room fell quiet.

Minho shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

“So…how do you know Kitty?” he asked finally, leaning against the back of the couch.

“We met at orientation,” (Y/N) replied. “She’s…unlike anyone else. In a good way.”

Minho chuckled. “That’s one way to describe her.”

(Y/N) grabs her book and puts it away on the small shelf standing in the living room and looked at him, her gaze steady but not intimidating. “And what about you? How do you know Kitty?”

“She’s…” Minho hesitated, then shrugged. “Complicated.”

(Y/N)’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “You should know a thing or two about that, based on what i've already seen from you”

For the first time, Minho felt like someone had peeled back the layers of his carefully curated persona. Most people saw him as the charming, confident playboy, but (Y/N) seemed to see through all of that.

The turning point came when (Y/N) decided to make tea.

“Want some?” she asked, holding up a kettle.

“Sure,” Minho said, joining her in the kitchen.

As they stood side by side, he found himself relaxing for the first time all day. (Y/N) handed him a mug, her fingers brushing against his. The brief contact sent a jolt through him, but he played it off, sipping his tea like nothing had happened.

“This is good,” he said, gesturing to the tea.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) replied. “It’s an old family recipe.”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” she said, her smile teasing.

When Kitty returned later that evening, she found Minho still in the dorm, sitting on the couch with (Y/N). They were deep in conversation, their laughter filling the room.

“Am I interrupting something?” Kitty asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” Minho said quickly, standing up. “I was just—uh—leaving.”

As he walked past (Y/N), he hesitated for a moment. “See you around?”

“Maybe,” (Y/N) replied, her tone light but her eyes warm.

After Minho left, Kitty turned to (Y/N), a knowing grin spreading across her face. “What was that about?”

(Y/N) shrugged, but her cheeks flushed slightly. “Nothing. Just talking.”

Kitty didn’t buy it for a second. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

(Y/N) gives her a grin of her own and links her arm with Kitty's.

"While we're on the topic, how'd your little date with Yuri go?"

Kitty's eyes go wide, nudging (Y/N) playfully while laughing

"Hey! I'm the one asking Questions, not you!"

That night, as Minho lay in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about (Y/N). The way she smiled, the way she seemed to see right through him, the way her laugh made his chest feel lighter.

For the first time in a long time, Minho felt something real—something that scared him but also excited him.

Part 2