#I hope it’s okay i responded kinda in the tags of this post 😭💖

[j00stkl31n]

I read the one that said “you can dom me” and that wasn’t me for sure🍒

Oh! Good to know!! 🤭

[leejungchans]

rich girl — l.mh

word count | 3.2k

pairing | lee minho (skz) x female reader

warning(s) / includes | food mentions, a lil swearing, reader has icky friends

genre | fluff, angst if you squint, high school au, ???-to-friends/implied lovers au, lino’s a bit of a tsundere

note | i imagined this whole thing as a kdrama scene while writing which is why it’s kinda cliche and dramatic at parts 😭 not proofread but i will when i wake up

summary | of all the places to run into you, lee minho never expected it to be at a convenience store.

a/n | happy new year everyone 💖 i’m so sorry i haven’t posted anything in a bit, had a bit of writer’s block which is why this took months to finish but i’m slowly getting back into the groove!! to everyone who requested in my 1k event, i promise i’ll get to every single one of them so dw!! i hope you enjoy!!

“Thanks for today,” Yang Jeongin murmurs shyly, bowing his head as Minho pockets the money. “I hope I didn’t take up too much of your time.”

Even now, Minho still remembers the look on his friends’ faces when he told them he wanted to try tutoring the younger kids at school. He doesn’t particularly enjoy it, but it’s not the worst way to earn some extra money.

“It’s fine,” he says with a casual shrug. “Lemme know how the test goes and text me anytime if you have more questions.” He doesn’t really mean the latter part—responding to texts outside his self-scheduled working hours is hardly appealing—but it feels customary to say.

Jeongin nods, his arms hanging at his sides as he walks Minho to the front door. “Okay, thanks again. Have a good rest of your night.”

If the older boy had noticed how tense he is, he doesn’t point it out. It’s no secret that Lee Minho has a reputation at school for being intimidating, and while he was surprisingly patient for the entirety of those two hours, Jeongin still finds it hard to shake off that feeling of being scrutinised when his sharp, cat-like eyes constantly feel like they’re probing right into his soul.

“You too. I’ll see you around,” Minho says, hardly bothered by the awkward energy of the empty apartment as he slips on his shoes. He wonders for a brief moment where Jeongin’s parents are, but doesn’t entertain the thought for long because he cares more about going home to his cats. Going to a private school comes with a hefty price tag, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Jeongin’s parents are still at work much like his own. 

The sun has long set by now, draping a blanket of dark indigo over the bustling streets as people rush to get home. Up ahead, Minho sees the glowing sign of a convenience store, and as though being reminded his stomach rumbles, a reminder that he hasn’t eaten since lunch.

He could go for some ramen, and this way he wouldn’t have to cook and do the dishes.

From the stocked shelves, he picks out his dinner—a bowl of Shin Ramyun, a tuna triangle kimbap and a bottle of green tea. Simple, yet so satisfying; his go-to no matter how many times Hyunjin teases him for getting the same thing time and time again.

Hyunjin makes fun of him, he lovingly threatens to shove tissue down his throat. Minho wouldn’t have it any other way.

A fond scoff falls from his lips as he waits for his ramen to cook. His eyes scan the store, flitting from the bored cashier picking at his nails to the girl sitting at the table just several feet away from him. It takes a few seconds for him to realise she’s wearing his school’s uniform, and another few to notice the polished shoes with the dainty gold buckles that look all too familiar.

It’s not just anyone from school—it’s you.

The realisation has him turning on his heel immediately. Surely, his back profile isn’t too recognisable? His heart skips a beat in his chest and only one thought consumes his mind as he hastily straightens his tie and redoes the first button on his shirt—what the hell are you of all people doing in a convenience store?

“You know, most people eat their noodles before they get soggy.”

Minho resists the urge to let a few colourful words slip. He doesn’t think your parents would appreciate learning that the student-guide assigned to their precious daughter was the one who taught her her first swear word.

Huh, that was a little mean. Distantly, Chan’s disapproving voice rings out from the back of his mind.

“Give her a chance, Minho. Just because she’s from a rich family doesn’t mean she’s a spoiled brat. I’ve talked to her a few times, she’s really nice.”

His feet move slowly as he turns to face you, finding your eyes still trained on him as you await his reaction, glossy lips curled up amusedly. He wants to flee, wants to curse the gods for making him run into you at such a time and place. But he’s already made the ramen, it’s too late to leave.

Reluctantly, he grabs his dinner and makes his way over to the table, making sure you’re separated by a seat as he plops himself down on the squeaky bar stool. You don’t seem bothered, the little grin still ever-present on your face before you turn back to your dinner.

Minho watches from the corner of his eyes as you pick up your half-eaten kimbap, dunking the corner into the spicy broth before taking a bite. Maybe he’s a little impressed, he didn’t expect you to know the only correct way to eat kimbap and ramen—at least, the only correct way in his eyes.

“Don’t seem so surprised,” you quip lightly without looking up, “rich people eat ramen too.”

His cheeks grow warm from being caught staring. “Just didn’t expect you to hang around somewhere like this.”

“Are you kidding? I love convenience store food. They didn’t have the stuff here when I was at boarding school, I had to order everything I wanted online.”

“Must’ve taken a long time to get them shipped to you,” he muses. It’s strange, he thought he couldn’t care less about what went on in the fancy boarding school you attended before transferring here, but it’s refreshing hearing you talk about mundane things like bulk-buying instant ramen as though a squirrel stashing food away for the winter.

“Oh, it felt like forever each time! I felt like I was going to die craving all the snacks I couldn’t get there.” For a second there you sounded just like Hyunjin during his dramatic moments, like that time when Minho refused to pay for his ice cream and he acted like he was left to fend for himself in the wilderness.

He finds it oddly endearing.

“That’s not the worst part,” you continue, “the worst part was dealing with thieves in the dorms. I can’t count how many packs of ramen I had stolen from me.”

“Oh, the tragedy!”

You roll your eyes at the exaggerated gasp he lets out, though the action hardly holds any genuine annoyance. “I can’t tell if you’re still being serious.”

A small grunt leaves Minho as he twists open the bottle cap of his bottled tea. “I mean, I’d be pretty pissed if people stole food from me.” The worst Jisung’s done to him is snagging a few gummy bears, and that already feels like a criminal offence in his book.

“I guess that’s the second thing we have in common.”

“What’s the first? Having good taste in convenience store dinner?”

“I knew you were smart, Lee.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he scoffs, yet his the corners of his lips can’t help but quirk up at the devious, teasing grin you flash him.

He’d rather do Hyunjin’s PE laundry for a month than admit it, but you’re kind of cute.

“What’re you doing in this area so late, anyways?”

You offer a smile in thanks as Minho holds the door open and gestures for you to go first. The two of you step out of the store, the frostiness of the winter night penetrating through the layers you’re wearing and settling deep into your bones.

“I was with Hyebin and the others.” He doesn’t miss the way your smile falters, the twinkle in your eyes dimming like a fallen star. He’s never liked the friend group you’ve found yourself in ever since you transferred over to the school. They’ve always given him the impression that they were more interested in your money and brains than anything. “They needed help with their homework.”

“Of course they did,” Minho scoffs.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“You need to be more careful with this stuff. The teachers aren’t as stupid as you think, just because you’re not the one doing the copying doesn’t mean you won’t get into trouble.”

“Gosh, what’s with the lecture? Why do you care who I hang out with?”

He freezes, pursing his lips together as he thinks of a counter. You’re right, why does he care? Perhaps your earlier conversation in the store changed his admittedly biased perception of you. Or perhaps despite everything he's ever thought about you, he thinks you still deserve better than Hyebin and her goons.

“W-Well, I was assigned to be your guide to the school,” Minho splutters, “sorry for taking my job seriously!” It’s a horrible excuse, so he’s not the slightest bit surprised when you don’t buy it at all.

“That’s funny, because you’ve made it pretty clear from the day we met that you couldn’t care less about a spoiled brat like me!” He hates that he still finds you cute even as you’re fuming and ranting at him. “Everyone at school is exactly like you, always making your own assumptions without even bothering to get to know me! Well, I’m telling you right now that I don’t need you to—”

“Watch out!”

Your foot gets caught on a raised ledge that you hadn’t noticed in your moment of frustration. You trip with a loud shriek, knees scraping painfully against the pavement as you break your fall with your hands. A burning sensation spreads across your face, and you’re utterly mortified that you just embarrassed yourself in front of someone the likes of Lee Minho while you were giving him a piece of your mind.

“Are you okay?” You feel his hand wrap around your arm as he helps you up, refusing to meet his eyes out of sheer embarrassment. “You need to watch where you’re going.”

You tug your arm out of Minho’s grasp with an aggravated huff. “I’m fine!” you snap, but the pained hiss that whistles through your clenched teeth says otherwise as you attempt to stand without his support. Your left ankle throbs with a sharp pain, causing you to lose balance and stumble.

“Seems like you’re not,” he observes without his usual snark as he reaches out to hold you steady again. This time, you don’t shake him off. “You should get that checked out soon, it’s probably a sprained ankle.”

“Great,” you mutter under your breath. Scraped knees and a sprained ankle? You dread the earful you know you’ll be getting from your overprotective parents. Thankfully, your family’s driver is only parked a few blocks away from where you are, so you shouldn’t have to hobble too far—

“—get on.”

“H-Huh?”

Minho rolls his eyes at your dumbfounded expression, his knees bent as he gestures to his back with a tilt of his head, signalling you to climb on. “You said your driver is waiting for you nearby, right?” You nod. “I’ll carry you there.”

“You better not tell your friends that I forced you to do this,” you mutter sulkily.

“Jesus, Y/N. I don’t stoop that low. I’m the one who offered, okay?” At your hesitation, the sharp angles of his face soften ever so slightly. “I swear. I’m not gonna stand here and watch you walk three blocks on a twisted ankle.”

The sincerity in his eyes has knots forming in your stomach out of guilt, embarrassed that you’ve been so harsh on him for his intentions when all he’s done was offer help. Murmuring a thank you, you gingerly wrap your arms around his neck as his arms hook around your thighs. With a soft grunt, he draws to his full height and begins heading down the street.

The proximity between the two of you floods your cheeks with warmth. You’re certain you harbour absolutely zero romantic feelings for Lee Minho, your less-than-enthusiastic guide to the school who cares more about the stray cats lingering outside the gates than ninety percent of the student population—at least, that’s what you tell yourself. You suppose he can be charming, especially when he smiles; it’s a sight you’re hardly privy to seeing, but sometimes you catch a glimpse of his toothy grin when he’s talking to Chan or play-wrestling with the tall kid who’s on the soccer team.

And you suppose he’s pretty charming now too, not an indication of annoyance towards your current predicament as he piggybacks you the rest of the way to your car. A faint jasmine scent greets your senses, and it takes all your willpower to resist leaning in closer. Ugh, of course his shampoo just so happens to be your favourite scent too.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you back there,” you say quietly after a while. “I was frustrated with people at school but took it out on you, which was really unfair of me.”

For a brief moment, Minho doesn’t respond, leading you to believe he’s still upset. It’s understandable, but it leaves you with a sinking pit in your stomach and you’ve never wanted the earth to swallow you whole so badly until now.

“It’s okay.” You perk up a little at his unexpected response. “I get it, really. I’m sorry too, for letting all those stereotypes and assumptions get the best of my judgement. I was a pretty shitty guide, huh?” he jokes with a soft chuckle.

A smile slowly appears on your face at his attempt at lightening the mood. “I’ve seen worse, and in a way you did kinda help me learn my way around campus.”

“By avoiding you like my life depended on it while you searched high and low for me?”

“Questionable execution, successful outcome.”

His head tilts back as he lets out a genuine laugh, the bright sound only increasing the palpitations of your heart. “That’s how I roll. Leaves an impression.”

He certainly has. Never would you have guessed that you’d be seeing this side of Lee Minho tonight, or ever, and you don’t doubt that you’ll be thinking about this moment for the next week even if he goes back to being all ‘bad-boy’ with you tomorrow. It feels like you’re witnessing something you’re not supposed to, and it’s exhilarating.

His gentle voice brings you out of your thoughts. “I was serious about Hyebin. They’re using you, both her and her friends,” he says, spitting the last word out like it’s venomous.

“I know.”

“You know?”

You hum sadly. “My family runs a conglomerate and I’ve attended more of their functions than I can count. I learnt very early on what it looks like when someone’s only being nice to you because they want something.”

Minho nods in understanding, yet your response only begs the next question. “Then why do you still hang out with them? What do they have that you don’t?”

“Nothing, but… who else do I have at school? Almost everyone else is either no different from them, or are too intimidated to approach me even when I’ve done everything I can to prove I’m anything but.”

Something about how you don’t bother hiding the defeat in your voice makes his heart twinge with sympathy. He knows you’re right—hell, he considers himself unbelievably lucky that he managed to find people he genuinely sees as his close friends in a sea of snobbish, self-centred students.

“Hang out with us. Really,” he adds when you fall eerily silent. “I know we’re probably the furthest thing away from the people you’re used to associating yourself with, and I guess we can be a little weird sometimes—” admittedly, maybe a lot weird—“but we’re good people, especially my friends.”

Minho stops himself upon realising he’s already begun rambling, but the quiet giggle that reaches his ears relaxes him a little.

“I like weird.” Despite currently looking ahead, he can still hear the smile in your voice. “Wouldn’t I make things awkward, though? I don’t wanna intrude on anything.”

“Are you kidding? Once you're friends with Chan, he’ll find a way to make you feel comfortable no matter what. Do you like anime, by any chance?”

“Actually, yeah. I do.”

He chuckles, “Then you’ll have no problem getting along with my other friends too.”

“And what about you?” you ask softly. “Are you okay with it?”

“I’m the one who offered, of course I am.”

You’re unsure if you can consider Lee Minho your friend yet—or rather, if he’d want that or not—but one thing’s for certain: his authenticity is both admirable and appreciated. You don’t question his kindness now because he wasn’t afraid to show his genuine indifference in your encounters prior to today.

“Thank you, Minho. I don’t know what else to say other than… thanks, really.”

Spying your family’s car just down the street, he turns to grin at you, eyes curved and smile reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat. “Feel free to also comment on how unfairly handsome and strong I am.”

You respond with a fond roll of your eyes. He’s not wrong, but you don’t need to tell him that either. “Very funny, but yes, thank you for this too. I’m sorry you had to carry me all the way here.”

Now it’s Minho’s turn to roll his eyes. “Stop apologising, Y/N, I wanted to. Hopefully your ankle isn’t too seriously sprained.”

“My parents are going to make such a big fuss if I need a cast.”

He snickers. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the first one to sign it.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you mumble sulkily, though it only makes him laugh harder. It’s beyond him how it’s possible for someone to sound this adorable even while swearing.

Carefully, he lets you down upon reaching the car, still holding you steady by your arms as the door slides open to reveal luxurious leather seats. He helps you into the backseat, offering a shy nod in greeting when your driver looks back to give you a questioning look.

“I’ll explain later,” you tell him before turning back to Minho, “let us give you a ride home.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he reassures, tucking his hands into his pockets, “I live really close by.”

You narrow your eyes suspiciously. “You better not be lying to me.”

Dramatically, he places a hand over his heart. “I swear.”

“I’m gonna ask Chan first thing when I see him.”

“You do that,” he replies smoothly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Relenting, you nod and return the smile he gives you. “Okay, get home safe. Good night, Minho.”

“Good night.”

Your eyes never leave his as the door shuts between you two. You look back at Minho through the tinted windows, finding him still standing at the same spot as he watches your car take off down the road. Even as you make a left turn, causing him to disappear from your line of sight, you don’t turn back until your driver feigns a cough, a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

“That boy,” he begins, eyes briefly flickering to meet yours in the rear-view mirror, “is he your classmate, Miss L/N?”

You nod.

“You two looked close.” He must’ve seen the look on your face because he lets out a hearty laugh, one you’ve grown accustomed to over all his years of service to your family. “Don’t worry, miss. I won’t tell your parents,” he reassures, “I just wanted to say that he seems to like you a lot.”

“Huh, is that so?” is all you say, yet you can’t fight the smile that appears on your face the second no one’s looking.

༉‧₊˚✧ thank you so much for reading <3 please reblog if you enjoyed my writing, and any form of feedback is greatly appreciated ! support the creators and content you wish to continue seeing <3