#MINHO GOT HIM A BIRTHDAY CARD!!!!!???????

[saintseiyasl]

Love wins btw

[moonlinos]

A dwindling, mercurial high

♡ Pairing: Bang Chan × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood best friends, angst

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), cheating, both Chan and Reader are morally gray characters, mentions of smoking, drinking, fingering, hand job, unprotected sex

♡ Word count: 10.1k

♡ Synopsis: Despite his love for you since childhood, Chan silently watched from the sidelines as you fell in love with your mutual friend. Your happiness has always been his priority, even at the expense of his own. But he can only endure the pain with a smile on his face for so long. With your growing realization that your fiancé is no longer the man you once loved, his longing to finally escape his torment and confess his feelings becomes unbearable.

♡ A/N: Based off a request by anon! Thank you for requesting 🩷 Cheating is bad, kids, this is fiction. Sorry to my boy Changbin, I used a random wheel to decide who would be the other member 🥲 I’ll focus on lighter stories now ‘cause I feel like this one turned out heavier than I anticipated lol

Chan has known you since he was ten years old.

He’s sure he has been in love with you for just as long.

He wouldn’t be able to give an exact date; loving you has simply always been a part of his life. Your smile that’s engraved in his mind, your laughter he’s memorized, your mind which still fascinates him after so many years — it all wraps around his heart like a vice, making him a willing captive to this one-sided love.

For Chan, love is selflessness; sacrificing anything for the happiness of the one he loves. He doesn’t know anything but loving you, and his unwavering dedication to your happiness has led him to sacrifice his own for years.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan has been withering away slowly as you’ve grown happier.

But your happiness and his unrequited love never truly hurt him until the age of twenty.

It was Minho’s birthday, and he played the best friend card to convince Chan to buy fake IDs from a sketchy guy at their university. Your friend group drove to a deserted parking lot after buying far too much alcohol — Chan remembers the recurring thought inside his fuzzy mind was how much that situation would validate your parents’ scorching hatred for him if they were to find out.

You had your head on his shoulder, sitting on the bed of Minho’s truck, watching as the rest of your friends suffered the consequences of their indulgence. Chan’s face lit up with a smile at the sound of your giggle when Miyeon yelled at Changbin for being so loud, threatening to destroy his beloved girl group albums if he didn’t shut up.

Chan’s emotions always mirrored your own; so long as you had a smile on your face, he swore he could find joy even in the worst situations.

Even when you unknowingly shattered his heart into a million pieces, your happiness still brought him joy.

“I never got around to finishing my story,” you told him, words slurred and voice hoarse from singing at a noraebang earlier that night. “I only said I had a crush, but I never elaborated.”

Chan didn’t want you to elaborate.

But he knew how much you loved talking to him. Be it the weight of your indecision about your path in life or the lightheartedness of your romantic endeavors, you shared everything with him. You always said Chan was the best listener because he knew when his silence was better than any word. He knew that once your heart was set on something, there was no use trying to untangle your mind from the roots of that conviction.

So he hummed, prompting you to continue. “It’s been a while since you had a crush.”

“It sounds so lame, doesn’t it?” You scoffed, “Aren’t we too old for crushes?”

“No one’s ever too old for that,” he shrugged. “I think if you don’t allow yourself these light-hearted feelings, love will only become heavy. That’s never good.”

You placed your hand in his, playing with his fingers as a smile spread across your lips. Chan always hoped you couldn’t hear the way his heart thumped loudly against his chest whenever you touched him. 

“You’re so weirdly wise for your age.”

“And you’re so weirdly avoiding the subject,” Chan pointed out. ��Come on, you never hesitated telling me shit like this. Hell, you proudly admitted to your crush on that old ass teacher when we were sixteen.”

You sat up straight, groaning at the unwelcome memory, and Chan huffed a laugh at the pout on your lips.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Just?”

“It’s someone you know,” you offered, and Chan furrowed his brows.

“That wouldn’t be a first.”

He noticed the way your hands tensed up, their grip on his fingers tightening and fidgeting nervously. You were anxious, and Chan wasn’t sure he wanted to know the reason why.

“It’s someone from our group.”

The way he froze was obvious, and your hands stilled on top of his. To this day, he hates everything about that moment: how you were so apprehensive about sharing something so trivial with him, how he selfishly felt a twinge of jealousy, and most importantly, how he could tell you were upset.

Chan promptly put aside his own feelings, having mastered this skill to the point where he could effortlessly do it. You seemed happy whenever you mentioned this crush, and he didn’t want to be the reason that happiness faded away. He laced your fingers together and offered you a smile, hoping you would reciprocate the gesture. You did, and he felt his chest blossoming with a blend of relief and melancholy.

“It’s Changbin,” you confessed, and Chan’s face remained unchanged. His smile didn’t so much as falter at your words. It often scared him how easy it had become to feign something as significant as his own emotions when it came to you. “I don’t know when it started, but I just… I really like him.”

Chan had seen you go through a couple of short-lived relationships and countless crushes that usually led nowhere; the sting of seeing you infatuated with someone else was an ache he’d long grown accustomed to. He often struggled to understand why your heart had chosen to love the people it did. It was easy to tease you and cope with the hurt when Chan knew it was only a matter of time before you realized you deserved more.

But that situation was different. This time, he could understand. Changbin was one of his best friends, after all. How would he endure the hurt when he knew Changbin was practically a mirror image of your ideal type? He was always in a good mood, always fun to be around and never failed to make anyone laugh. Chan had no doubts about how he would bend his back just to care for his friends — the day he failed his first class at university, Changbin paid his bill at the bar and carried a drunken, crying Chan home on his back.

Unlike it had been with Chan for the past ten years, your parents immediately fell in love with Changbin.

As he heard you eagerly talk about your crush on your friend that night, Chan kept his facade of the perfect best friend. His laughter and words perfectly matched your enthusiasm. Among the rain of anguish, the drop of bliss that fell onto his heart as he saw you smile again, your worry thoroughly gone, was enough to soothe his aching heart.

Because Chan’s emotions mirrored your own, and so he made it his mission to make you happy.

Even if it was with someone else.

Chan never would have guessed that you and Changbin would go beyond a simple crush.

He never would have believed if he was told your relationship would evolve beyond just hooking up.

And never in his wildest dream did he imagine that you would become engaged to him.

Yet, here he sits, six years after initially finding out about your crush, helping you choose flower arrangements for your wedding.

“I think Bin would definitely want some pink flowers,” you comment with a hum, the florist nodding along with a smile. Chan holds back a sigh. “But wouldn’t that look weird with the light blue theme?”

“I think blue and pink go great together!” The florist assures you, her excitement palpable when she starts rambling about different shades and flowers that would beautifully complement your dream wedding dress.

Chan zones out, blurry eyes focused on a single red rose that rests on the wooden table. He was understandably taken aback when you chose him as your man of honor. Miyeon had always been your closest female friend, so it was only natural that he assumed you would choose her as the maid of honor. Despite disapproval from both you and Changbin’s families, you remained unwavering in your decision. Chan knew you better than anyone in the world, you argued, therefore he was the best possible choice. The sentiment was sweet, but it didn’t lessen the ache in his heart.

As if watching you marry another man wasn’t punishing enough, he now had to help you plan the ceremony.

Your laughter brings him back to the present moment, and he quickly rises from his chair, realizing you’re already heading towards the door. Chan clears his throat, shooting the florist a small smile before walking out with you.

As soon as you step onto the streets, you ask, “You were spacing out the entire time, weren’t you?”

Chan feigns offense, clutching at his chest. “What? Of course not!” He shakes his head, and you let out a chuckle. “I was totally paying attention. Blue dress, pink flowers. I got it all memorized, don’t worry.”

“So you noticed how she was shamelessly ogling you the entire time, right?”

Absentmindedly, Chan cocks his head to the side, furrowing his brows in confusion. You narrow your eyes at him, and his expression immediately shifts into a grin.

“Ah, that. Yeah, I noticed,” he shrugs. “It was your choice to have me as your man of honor.”

You bump your shoulders together, chuckling. “I guess I should’ve known. Since you’re not my fiancé, you’ll have to endure a lot of women flirting with you.”

As your words hit him, Chan clenches his jaw, suppressing the foolish pain that wells up in his chest. He is not your fiancé; he is well aware of that, but he can’t help the sharp twinge of hurt that washes over him whenever you remind him of that fact.

He silently drives you to the gym that he and Changbin opened two years ago. It was a last-ditch effort to create something that was their own rather than succumbing to a soulless office job. Starting out in a small rundown house on a sketchy street, with barely any money for proper equipment, they could never have predicted how perfectly everything would work out.

As Chan parks in front of the building, you beam while taking the notes from the florist out of your bag, eager to share them with Changbin. You two scour the gym from top to bottom, but he’s nowhere to be found. Upon asking their receptionist, they’re informed that Changbin had left a couple of hours earlier, not giving further explanations. Chan hates the familiar sight of your smile dropping, your excitement ebbing away as you carefully tuck away your notes into your bag.

Changbin has become unusually distant lately — not only toward you but everything in general. He rarely sets foot in the gym nowadays, only popping in to ensure everything is in order before hurriedly rushing off to who knows where. Chan hopes it’s only the pre-wedding nerves getting to him, and not something that will leave you shattered and heartbroken on what is supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

But that’s all he can do — cling to that hope.

Because, deep down, Chan’s mind is filled with worries that run deeper than he will ever let on. Changbin has always been an absurdly impulsive person. The fear that his friend might be regretting his decision to propose is always lingering in the back of his mind, like a persistent echo, tormenting him and gradually eroding his heart.

He doesn’t know if he can bear to see you hurt.

He certainly doesn’t want to think about what he would do if Changbin ever dared to break your heart.

Chan hates the way you easily brush off your disappointment even more, turning to flash a bright smile at him as soon as the notes are out of your sight.

“I’ll just see him at home later tonight anyway,” you simply say. “There’s no rush.”

Over the past months, Chan has seen you dismiss your own feelings regarding your fiancé countless times, so much so that he can’t even count them on one hand. From Changbin’s constant broken promises to his complete indifference toward anything related to his own wedding, the way it upsets you is evident. Still, your dismissal of it all makes him hesitant to even mention it.

Helplessly, he can’t do anything but watch, just as he has been doing for the past six years.

A week later, the sound of the doorbell jolts Chan awake at 2 a.m.

Right after getting home from the gym, he collapsed onto the couch and dozed off before he realized. All the work he had to tackle alone left him drained. It was yet another day when Changbin vanished in the late afternoon without so much as an excuse.

Chan rushes toward the door, expecting an emergency, only to find you standing alone in the dimly lit hallway. His initial reaction was confusion; you had a spare key, after all. But as the light from his apartment hits your face, red-rimmed, teary eyes meet his own, and Chan instinctively wraps his arms around you. 

You two remain in a silent embrace for a while, with Chan selfishly reveling in the feeling of your body pressed against his. Despite your vulnerable state, he can’t help but run a hand down your back, savoring your warmth and intoxicating scent that surrounds him.

You used to hold each other frequently when you were young, thinking nothing of it and simply seeking comfort in each other’s arms. But as you entered your late teens, the tension between you became almost palpable. You no longer sought his arms solely for comfort, and that was obvious to Chan. It was obvious because he was the same. Innocent hugs evolved into wandering hands and limbs tangling in ways that were anything but platonic.

At that time, he almost thought he had stood a chance.

Until graduation day, when you two hid away inside an empty classroom, with you sat on a desk and Chan slotted between your thighs, holding you against his chest as you cried. You were always terrified of change, and school ending was an unavoidable one that had been looming over your head for a while until it snapped.

That day, you almost kissed him, your lips mere inches from his as he gripped your waist nervously, his eyes foolishly fluttering closed in anticipation.

But you pulled away, pushing him back with a whispered apology.

After that day, that habit Chan loved so much slowly faded away.

Chan hates how he has every curve of your body memorized, but rarely has the privilege of feeling you this close to him anymore.

You pull away abruptly, much like you did when you were eighteen, clearing your throat and entering his apartment without uttering a word.

Closing the door behind him, he joins you on the couch, where you sit nervously, bouncing your leg.

“What happened?” He asks, although deep down, he already knows the answer. Your only answer is a half-hearted shrug, so Chan hesitantly continues, “Is this about the wedding?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes well up, but you swiftly blink away any tears that threaten to spill over. Once again, Chan takes your dismissal of your own emotions as a sign for him to keep quiet.

Except this time, you don’t.

“Changbin asked to postpone the wedding,” you simply tell him.

A surge of anger washes over Chan like a tidal wave, pushing him to walk out of his apartment right now just to punch his friend in the jaw. You’re sad — Changbin made you sad. No matter how hard Chan tries or how much he sacrifices, moments like these always serve as a sour reminder that your happiness isn’t solely dependent on him.

He despises these moments.

“I feel like he’s so different. Even before proposing,” you murmur, lowering your head and focusing on your nails, nervously picking at your chipped nail polish. “We hardly ever go on dates and he never makes jokes or does silly shit to make me laugh anymore. I know it’s stupid and even a bit selfish, but I miss those things.”

You let out a heavy sigh and slowly looked up to meet Chan’s gaze. He silently wishes he could absorb all the hurt you feel.

“That’s the man that made me want to stay for six years, and he’s just… gone.”

Chan nervously gnaws on his bottom lip, as if that will consume the words in his throat before they slip out. But these words have been lingering on the tip of his tongue for over five months. Ever since you gathered your little friend group in your living room on a rainy Sunday evening, beaming as you and Changbin announced your engagement.

Tonight, these unspoken words finally escape his lips.

“Why did you accept the proposal, then?” He asks softly.

You let out a bitter scoff and sink lower into his couch.

“Guess I thought that man would magically come back the moment I said yes. But he didn’t,” you shake your head. “So I ignored it, assured myself he would come back once I said ‘I do’. Now, I’m not even sure…” You trail off, pursing your lips as the sentence dissipates into the air.

He remembers the early years of your relationship with Changbin. You would call Chan just to swoon over his charming personality and jokingly scold him for keeping your boyfriend at the gym until late at night. He recalls how you used to melt at his sweet gestures, like bringing you a cup of coffee after your shift or carrying you up to your apartment when you dozed off in the car. A few months ago, he noticed your avoidance whenever Changbin was brought up, and your usual long-winded stories about him were now replaced with short answers.

But he remained quiet, like he’d always done.

A few minutes pass before you speak again, and your words strike him like an unexpected left hook, knocking the air out of his lungs.

“I thought about ending things a lot,” you confess, “When I noticed this change wasn’t wavering, I was ready to leave.”

“But you didn’t,” Chan counters.

Your lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes as you slowly nod. “But I didn’t,” you simply say. “I was afraid of what that would do to our friend group. It’s stupid, right?” You rhetorically ask.

When your gazes meet, your eyes are devoid of any emotion, a stark contrast to the usual spark he’s always loved. It’s as if you’ve abandoned any hope you had left inside of you, and his heart sinks.

“I didn’t want things to change because of me.”

Chan sighs. “You shouldn’t sacrifice your own happiness for the sake of others,” he tells you, and the irony isn’t lost on him. He inwardly grimaces, because isn’t that exactly what he has been doing for most of his life?

But it’s different, he rationalizes. It’s different because it’s you.

“You know me, Chan,” you huff out, wrapping your arms around yourself as frustration slowly consumes you. “I hate making people sad, hate knowing things are worse because of me.”

That’s just another of the many things Chan hates — how fucking similar you and he are.

“That’s why everybody says you shouldn’t date your friends, huh?” You let out a bitter scoff. “It never works out. Just fucks everything up.”

Chan bites down on his bottom lip so hard he swears he tastes blood on his tongue.

“That’s not always the case,” he’s quick to add. “Remember when Jun and Miyeon dated? They broke up and things were awkward for a while but—”

“They were together for a few months, Chan, not six years,” you interrupt him with a scowl. “If Changbin and I had broken up, our little group would’ve been just as affected as us. People would pick sides, try to place the blame on someone, and things would inevitably change.”

“Things are bound to change at some point,” he reasons. “We’re not in college anymore.”

Chan is certain there’s something more stopping you from ending your relationship, but he’s afraid you’re also unsure of that reason.

“I love Changbin,” you suddenly say, turning your body to face Chan. “This is stupid, I’m sorry I came here in the first place. He’s just stressed, he’s gonna come back one day—”

“Stop talking like that,” Chan cuts you off, voice louder than he intended. You slowly tilt your head to the side, eyeing him with confusion. “Stop talking like Changbin isn’t here, like he’s distant because he has no choice. He hasn’t gone anywhere. He’s still here, and he’s still distant.”

You divert your eyes, focusing on a spot behind Chan, making him wonder if he crossed a line. When the seconds tick by and you remain silent, he braces himself to watch you leave.

Instead, you whisper, “I know.”

“I would never treat you like this,” he absentmindedly says, his own eyes wandering aimlessly around his living room, looking anywhere but at you. If he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that he isn’t saying these words to you, that he isn’t essentially confessing his repressed feelings to his best friend, who is already engaged. “Would never propose to you and have you plan the fucking wedding only to ask you to postpone it,” he lets out a scoff, his face contorting with disdain. “Fuck off. Postpone it? Changbin’s a coward.”

“I feel so alone,” you admit, seemingly ignoring his unprompted soliloquy. “You know I hate feeling alone. If I were to end things with Changbin now, after all these years, I know this loneliness would kill me.”

And you’re right; Chan knows better than anyone how much you hate feeling alone. Whenever your parents had to leave for business trips or vacations, you would seek refuge at his house to avoid being alone. When your roommate kicked you out of your dorm during university, you begged him to sleep with you in the study area so you wouldn’t be alone in the dark.

The thought of you spending your days alone in your apartment and sleeping by yourself at night makes Chan feel as if his heart is being trampled on.

“You’re not alone. I’m here,” he assures you, his eyes finally lifting to meet your gaze. “I’ve been here since we were kids, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A giggle suddenly escapes from your lips, and your hand rests on his arm. Your gaze shifts to where your fingers delicately trace patterns on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Remember when we were thirteen? We promised to get married if we were still alone when we were adults.”

Chan nods slowly, and an uneasy feeling washes over him. It’s been years since you’ve been this physically close to him, toying with the fabric of his shirt and saying words that foolishly make him think you might be flirting with him. Why must you bring this up now? Now, when you’re certainly not alone, but very much engaged to one of your mutual friends.

“I feel like every childhood friend makes that silly promise,” he tries to deflect, a forced chuckle leaving his lips. Nevertheless, the small smile on your lips lingers as you dismissively shrug at his words.

“It wasn’t silly to me,” you argue. “I meant it. Especially when I realized you were the only one who always stayed, even when everyone else seemed to leave me.”

He only now realizes how you’ve inched even closer to him, your foot softly brushing along his leg and your fingertips now delicately gliding along his arms, causing goosebumps to ripple across his skin. The small voice of reason inside his already clouded mind desperately urges him to back away, but his body refuses to move.

And then you gently intertwine your fingers with his and finally meet his eyes. Chan instinctively closes the small distance between you, his shoulder brushing against yours as you shift on the couch to throw your legs over his lap like you used to do when you were kids — except now, the gesture is anything but innocent, the air almost suffocating Chan with a looming sense of anticipation.

“Y’know, my mom was so happy when I told her I was dating Changbin,” you huff out a laugh at the memory, and Chan’s lips twitch into a small scowl. Although you speak as though this is news to him, he’s fully aware of what you’re referring to. He was sitting in your bedroom with you the day you told your mom. He knows what you’re alluding to, and he knows it’s wrong, but he finds himself simply nodding along to your words. “She was laughing about how scared she was that I would pick you. She was so sure we would end up together, and she hated it.”

It was never a secret how much your parents disliked Chan, although he never understood their reasons. Your mom always treated him with just enough feigned kindness that it wasn’t a glaring disdain, but you were quick to tell him all the things they would whisper behind his back.

Chan gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips then gliding along your face, tracing a path from the curve of your ear to your cheek. His eyes carefully follow his movements, and you suck in a breath, leaning into the touch.

“I also kind of hoped for that,” he mutters, barely audible.

“I’m so lonely, Chan,” you whisper back, and he feels every corner of his heart shatter into a million little pieces. The way your eyes glisten with unshed tears in the dim lighting of his living room finally has his resolve crumbling.

“You’re not alone,” he reiterates. “I’m here.”

Before he can stop himself, Chan closes the small distance between you and crashes his lips to yours. Just as guilt begins to course through his veins, you tug at his shirt, pulling him even closer until you ultimately climb onto his lap. Chan’s lips delicately brush against yours at first, but the kiss soon grows feverish. His hunger for you has been building inside of him for an eternity, and now that he’s finally tasted you, the all-consuming desire to have you overrides any remaining rationality in his mind.

His tongue glides along the seam of your lips before slipping into your mouth, and he all but growls at the feeling. Your fingers tighten their grip on his shirt, digging into the fabric while you let out the sweetest sound Chan has ever heard.

You slowly grind in his lap, and his hands grip your hips tightly, his cock twitching even at the soft movement. A surge of clarity washes over him, and he wonders how something this wrong can feel so good. Wonders why Changbin was lucky enough to have you like this whenever he wanted, while he was left to pine and yearn for years.

“What are we doing?” He asks between kisses, and you let out a shuddering sigh, shaking your head.

You whisper, “I don’t know. Just want you.”

A small part of Chan wants to push you away, knowing you’re simply seeking solace in him, desperately searching in him for what you no longer have with Changbin. But a bigger part of him has been yearning to have you for far too long to refuse your request.

He drowns out every faint whisper of reason in his head and slots his lips over yours once more, your soft moans traveling straight to his cock. Slipping your hands underneath his shirt, your palms raise toward his chest, nails lightly grazing his skin before trailing down the tense muscles of his abdomen. Chan whines when your fingertips brush against his clothed cock, already achingly hard in the confines of his pants. It was almost pitiful how effortlessly you made him desperate, his thoughts consumed with only you.

You break the kiss to pull down the straps of your dress, unhurriedly, eyeing him with a grin while he watches the thin fabric pool around your thighs.

“Y’know I always wondered what it’d be like,” you breathe out, and Chan’s lips fall open as you gently palm him through his sweatpants. “Always thought about what it’d feel like to have you fuck me.”

“Fuck,” he rasps out, cock swelling further in your hands when you squeeze his length. “Don’t say shit like that.”

You simply giggle, and Chan lets out a low groan, grinding his hips into your hand, desperately seeking more friction. He doesn’t want to think about the weight of that statement — not when your fingertips brush against his lower stomach, teasingly toying with the waistband of his sweatpants before finally pushing it down, gripping his cock in your hand. Chan hisses, his hold on your hips tightening while you glide your hand along his length, finding a slow, tantalizing rhythm as you begin to stroke him.

He feels as if his hands are tied by silent guilt, as if touching you any more will somehow make everything too real. But you press your lips to his like it’s second nature, swirling your tongue in his mouth just as your thumb swipes across his slit, gathering a drop of precum before smearing it down his shaft. It’s too much, and Chan groans into the kiss, finally allowing himself to touch you.

Carefully, his hands travel from your hips up to your stomach, caressing the soft skin. The way you feel underneath his fingertips has him drunk with lust, like a flood of long-awaited desire and longing finally being released.

“Touch me,” you whisper, words almost muffled by his lips. “Please.”

And Chan’s never been able to deny you.

His fingers skim over your breasts, trembling hands squeezing through the delicate lace of your bra. Your body eagerly responds to his touch, your nipples pebbling beneath his hands and a soft sigh falling from your lips. It feels like heaven to know that he’s the one coaxing these sounds out of you, and it’s enough to snuff out any trace of guilt Chan had remaining inside of him. As he pinches your nipples, rolling them gently between his fingertips, a surge of pleasure shoots through your body, making you jerk on his lap, your grip on his cock tightening.

Chan grins. “I thought about it too,” he admits, words softly whispered as he leans closer and presses his forehead against yours. “Thought about fucking you so much it almost drove me insane.”

These confessions are only half-surprising if Chan were completely honest with himself. He knew exactly where his mind wandered whenever you two got tangled up in his bed when you were teens, and he convinced himself you were the same. At that time, it was merely an attempt to alleviate the guilt he felt for having those thoughts about you.

But this confirmation was all he needed to truly surrender to his selfish hunger.

His hand slowly moves down your stomach, edging closer and closer to your panties. Your eyes remain locked on his, your heavy breathing brushing against his lips when his fingers tentatively slip beneath the soft fabric.

“Can I?” He whispers, and you nod, stroking him almost feverishly as your eyes become completely lust-clouded.

Chan’s fingers slide between your slick folds, a guttural moan reverberating through his chest, his cock twitching under your fingers.

“Holy shit, you’re soaking wet,” he groaned, his thumb softly pressing down on your clit, causing you to grind your hips into his hand.

“Chan,” you breathe out.

Your once deliberate strokes fizzled out into languid touches, but Chan couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when you were this fucking wet, all because of him.

“Tell me what you want,” he hums, pressing a small kiss to your open lips. He grins when your only response is a whine, rolling your hips forward once more. “Tell me.”

“Want you, Chan,” you choke out, “Want anything you wanna give me.”

Chan bites back a growl, slowly sliding a finger inside of you, your walls greedily clenching around it while your hips begin rocking in his lap, his thumb circling your clit. He can feel your arousal coating his finger, curling the digit before pulling away only to push back in again, two fingers now gently pumping in and out of you.

Pressing his lips to your throat, Chan grapples with the overwhelming need to mark you, bite and suck on your sensitive skin until it bloomed in hues of red and purple when you moaned so sweetly for him. The thought of Changbin coming home only to find you claimed by him had Chan groaning against the pulse of your neck, his cock throbbing in your hand just as your palm languidly circles the swollen head.

“Wanna make love to you,” he murmurs against your skin, leaving soft kisses up your throat until his lips are pressing against yours. Love — as if this was anything like love. “I need to,” he all but begs, and you hastily nod, tugging his shirt over his head and crashing your lips together.

Chan pushes your body down onto the couch, his heavy-lidded eyes dark like the shadows that covered his living room as he stares down at you. He’s wanted this for so long, dreaming and fantasizing about it to the point of pitifulness. Yet now, he hesitates. It’s almost as if everything else you have done tonight could be forgotten — maybe even forgiven — but the moment the images from his daydreams stumbled out into the real world, everything would truly be ruined.

“Chan,” your voice brings him back to the moment, his gaze softening at the way you looked up at him. “Don’t overthink this.”

He bends his face to yours, huffing out a breath. “It’s kinda hard not to.”

“Worry about tomorrow when tomorrow comes,” you whisper, and Chan smiles. He slides a hand through your hair, brushing a stray piece from your eyes.

His focus is quickly brought back to the scorching heat of his cock resting against your lower stomach, precum dripping from the tip and gathering on your skin. Gently brushing against your lower lip with the pad of his thumb, he fits himself between your open thighs, and you press a chaste kiss to his fingertip.

Chan effortlessly lifts you, blunt nails sinking into the soft skin of your ass as he watches you slide your panties down your thighs before he aligns your hips with his. He glides his cock along your folds, teasing your clit with each movement. The heat from your arousal coating him seems to sear into his skin, and he immerses himself in his desire even deeper. He carefully studies your features when you squeeze his shoulders, eyes tracing a slow path down your face, and Chan is certain he wouldn’t mind waging a war against every inconvenient obstacle that kept him from seeing that glint of bliss on your eyes every day.

His tip grazes your entrance as he pulls back, lips tracing along your skin before slowly pushing into you. As much as Chan wants to take his time, savor the experience and explore every inch of your body until it becomes seared into his memory, he knows he won’t be able to do that tonight. Years of yearning and longing finally came pouring out, consuming him with the want to selfishly chase this long-desired feeling.

When his hips meet yours, he takes your hand in his, guiding it to press on your lower abdomen. Your lips fall open slightly, the feeling of his cock pressing against your belly causing your eyes to flutter shut, and Chan’s arousal becomes almost unbearable. It was almost like a false testament, fooling him into believing you were finally one, even though it was nothing but a pretty lie.

“We’re a perfect fit. Shit,” Chan hisses, your inner muscles clenching around him at his words.

His thumb pressed firmly against your throbbing clit as he began rolling his hips, falling into a gentle and steady tempo. Your legs wrap around his body, hips rolling up and silently urging him to move faster, matching the rhythm of his unspoken longing. 

“Chan, please,” your voice chokes out. You intertwine your fingers together, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, eyes looking at him almost pleadingly. “Need you to fuck me.”

He snaps at your soft plea, pulling back and thrusting into you harshly, barely retreating from your wetness before plunging back in. Your nails dig into his skin, scoring lines down his chest while your other hand squeezes his. Chan winces at the sting but revels in the fact that you’re marking him — something he could only ever dream of doing to you.

He reluctantly lets go of your hand to firmly grasp your ass, forcefully lifting your hips to draw you even closer to him, fingernails etching crescent moons into your soft skin in an almost petulant attempt at claiming you as his. At least for tonight. Chan’s thumb rubs circles around your clit, bringing you closer to the edge of your orgasm. His grip on your skin tightens, pulling your body toward him almost desperately. His thrusts soon grow sloppy, his once deliberate rhythm long forgotten as his control quickly ebbs away.

“Got no idea what you do to me,” Chan grunts, pressing his forehead to yours. “If you were mine— fuck,” He hisses when you clench around him at his words — at the idea of being his. “I’d be so good to you. Fuck you like this every night.”

You attempt to call out his name, but the sound dies at your throat with a whine. Looking for purchase among his forceful thrusts, your hands travel up his chest and clutch at his shoulders with a tight grip.

“Then fuck me like I’m yours,” you choke out, hooking your ankles behind him to keep him as close to you as possible. Chan’s only response is a low, guttural growl, which is soon swallowed by your sighs as he crashes his lips into yours.

You arch your back, breaking the kiss with a cry, muscles tightening while Chan continues to plunge into you at a merciless rhythm. Your cunt throbs around his length, the relentless pressure of his finger on your clit sending shivers of euphoria through your entire body, drawing out your climax. Chan feels lightheaded, the beautiful sight of your orgasm enough to drive him to the edge.

As his cock twitches inside of you, he reluctantly leans back, rising to his knees and wrapping his fingers around his length, stroking himself over your body while you watch him with half-lidded eyes. A low sound rumbles within Chan’s chest as his hips jerk against his fist. His release spills from his cock and paints your stomach with milky streaks of his cum, finally marking you as his.

At least for tonight.

Even though it’s nothing but a pretty lie.

As you wake up, the unfamiliar sensation of sunlight streaming through the window hits your tired eyes. Panic washes over you for a beat as you take in the feeling of an unfamiliar bed, but a familiar scent soon envelops you, instantly soothing you. Not waking up alone also feels unfamiliar, but it’s a welcomed unfamiliarity. You turn your body towards the person next to you, and you’re greeted by Chan, peacefully asleep with a small smile on his lips. A grin slowly spreads across your face too.

It had been so long since you were this close to him, even longer since you woke up beside him. Sleepovers were common during your childhood, but they naturally stopped as you grew older. You were nineteen the last time you lied next to Chan like this, drunk on cheap beer and cramped next to him on a worn-out couch of some fraternity house. You remember how his chest slowly rising and falling somehow felt like home, and how his soft snores lulled you into sleep.

Your love for Chan has always been greater than you’ve let on.

Your vicious need to please those around you hindered your ability to express how much you loved him. Your parents hated him since you were fifteen. Catching Chan smoking with a group of boys from your school behind the mall cemented their opinion of him. Despite his ‘bad influence’, they reluctantly allowed your friendship to continue, with the condition that you wouldn’t be swayed by his bad ways.

If only they knew what you did last night.

If only they knew how you were the one to incite him, letting your own bad ways tarnish him.

As your eyes flutter closed, memories of the night before flood your mind; Chan’s hands on your body, his hungry kisses, and the way he fucked you until you felt intoxicated. But the feeling of bliss swirling in your chest quickly dissipates, replaced by the weight of guilt, crushing your ribs and knocking the air from your lungs. Your eyes snap open, and you sit up on the bed with a shuddering sigh. Even the feeling of Chan’s clothes clinging to your body makes you feel dirty.

Beside you, Chan groans, your sudden movements having disturbed his sleep.

“What time is it?” He rasps out. The sound of his voice alone nearly makes you flinch. As his fingertips graze your arm, you instinctively withdraw as if his touch scorched your skin. Chan sits up as well. “What’s wrong?”

You almost scoff at his words.

“Nothing,” you lie, throwing the covers off your body. You frantically search his bedroom until your eyes land on your dress draped over a chair.

You take off Chan’s shirt in haste, spitefully throwing the fabric on the floor as though it embodied your every sin. As if removing it from your body would somehow absolve you from what you chose to do last night. Just as you reach to undo the drawstrings of his sweatpants, his touch lingers on your skin again. You can’t help but flinch once more.

“Hey, calm down. Please, talk to me,” Chan’s soft voice only intensifies the anguish in your chest.

“Don’t touch me,” you mumble, tears gathering in your eyes as remorse gathers in your throat until it feels as if you’re suffocating. Chan removes his hands from your arm but remains beside you. “What the fuck did we do? We betrayed his trust, we betrayed…” you trail off, because you can’t even bring yourself to say Changbin’s name out loud. Finally, you turn to face Chan, shaking your head in disbelief. “He’s our friend. He’s my fucking fiancé.”

Chan stays silent. Tears stream out of your eyes, cascading down your cheeks and onto the floor. Your shoulders tremble, and each breath you take cannot fill your lungs enough to ease the weight on your chest. Chan stands in front of you, his tear-filled eyes mirroring his own heartbreak, evident in every corner of his face. He reaches out to you several times, but his hands only clench into fists and drop by his sides every time.

He helplessly watches as your tears fall over something that was a choice. A momentary bliss, a whim that has proven to be unnecessary, even though your feelings for Chan have always gone beyond platonic. How you wish you could go back in time and prioritize your own happiness instead of constantly sacrificing it for the sake of others. But you can’t, and the once beautiful love you had for Chan now only feels tainted.

He watches you silently, unmoving until you finally swallow enough tears to choke out, “Please hold me.”

And Chan does, cold hands wrapping around your trembling body as fresh tears pour out of your eyes, cascade down your cheeks and onto his shirt.

  You cry the entire afternoon, guilt becoming a ghost that haunts you as you pad around Chan’s apartment. Yet you can’t bring yourself to leave his side. Soon, his clothes stopped feeling like a vice tightening around your neck and transformed into a soothing embrace.

The only words you exchange are over cold leftover pizza. Chan says it’s best to just pretend the previous night never even happened. You’re quick to tell him you don’t want that.

“It was a mistake,” he quietly told you.

“It was a choice,” you corrected him. “And I’m happy I did it.”

And that’s the worst part of it all; you don’t regret having sex with Chan. You regret the cheating, the pain this would cause Changbin if he knew, and you especially dread the scrutiny you would face if people were to find out. But not even for a second do you feel any regret about Chan.

Before you know it, it’s already dark out. You find yourself staring out the window, pulling at the hem of Chan’s shirt that still hugs your frame.

You don’t want to go back home.

Four messages from Changbin apologizing for not coming home last night greet you every time you unlock your phone.

Changbin: hey baby, sorry Changbin: there was a huge fight at the bar, seungmin was bloody on the floor before i knew it Changbin: had to stay and take care of him after i took him home Changbin: i’m so sorry. i’ll make it up to you. love you

You ignore them every time. You don’t feel bad about it.

“I don’t wanna go back home,” you mumble to yourself. Behind you, Chan hums softly.

It feels like an eternity before he finally breaks the silence.

“Then don’t go.”

So you don’t.

Time slips away from your hands, and suddenly a week has gone by. You stay at Chan’s apartment, working from his computer, eating his food, and wearing his clothes. He makes love to you and you sleep in his bed every night.

You avoid every mirror and close every curtain as if that will shield you from your sins.

For so much time, it felt as if you were crawling through endless days, constantly brushing aside the things that upset you, things you fruitlessly wished you could change. All while forcing a smile that long stopped being sincere. This week, your smile was tightly bound to a warmth in your heart that had been absent for far too long.

Cooped up inside Chan’s apartment like a fugitive from your own mistakes, you were finally happy.

You have always lived a life driven by the desire to please others. From the university you attended to the man you chose to be with; everything was carefully thought out to ensure the happiness of those around you. Was it a wonder you were so soulless?

Is it a wonder you found bliss in doing something so selfish for the first time in your life? Every time Chan touched you, it was like a small light was ignited inside you.

Changbin’s messages sat unread in your phone; the only ones he sent you the entire week. 

  You chose to return home the day your mother called you to ask about the wedding. Chan drove you in silence while you clutched his hand.

As soon as you step into your apartment, it’s as if all the light Chan brought back into your life the past week is snuffed out. You glance around the dark living room, your eyes then traveling toward your bedroom, only being met by more darkness. Seems your fiancé still hasn’t come back.

Changbin going to that bar was the catalyst for your spiral of mistakes. He’s often gone to bars, and you never thought much of it, until he started prioritizing his time with his friends over time with you. That night, you had asked him to stay in for a change, suggesting you could watch a movie and order too much food like you used to do when you first moved in together. He said he would love that, but that night was really important. Apparently, Jisung needed help chatting up the bartender, and that was crucial in his road to getting over his ex. Apparently, that was more important than spending time with you.

You were arguing before you knew it. Although you did most of the talking, so it felt more like a helpless monologue than a proper fight. Changbin hated fights, and had mastered the art of dismissing things and never addressing them again. He was out the door right after nonchalantly asking you to postpone the wedding.

“I’m not in the right headspace to deal with shit like that now,” he’d said, and you scoffed at how he referred to your wedding.

“Flower arrangements, color schemes, guest lists… I’d rather do anything else but that right now. My friends need me,” Changbin continued after you remained silent, because you knew you would only end up arguing with him again if you were to speak. He spoke as if you didn’t need him.

“Jisung is finally taking the steps to get over that shitty ex of his and you know Chan can’t run the gym without me,” were the last words he muttered before pressing a kiss to your forehead and leaving you alone for yet another night.

The mention of his name was all it took for you to run out the door and into Chan’s apartment.

After dragging yourself toward your bathroom for a quick shower, you berate yourself for feeling disappointed in the feeling of your own pajamas against your skin. After a week of being enveloped in Chan’s scent, the smell of your clothes seems almost foreign.

Even as you lie in bed, it somehow feels even colder now than it did during all the countless nights when you were alone. Just as you had grown used to the empty space beside you, it now feels wrong not to feel the warmth of Chan’s body pressed up against yours.

You shudder at that thought.

It wasn’t just anyone you missed in your bed. It was Chan.

In a way, it had always been him.

As you drift off to sleep, the sudden shifting of the mattress jolts you awake. Changbin is home. You inwardly curse yourself, as you won’t be able to feign sleep after being startled by his presence. He chuckles softly, slipping under the covers and pulling you close, a strong arm tightly wrapping around your waist. The dim light of your bedroom hides your grimace as he pulls your body flush against his, but you can’t help but flinch.

It feels wrong.

Just as much as Chan’s body had felt perfectly aligned with yours, Changbin’s mere presence feels out of place.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, babe,” Changbin apologizes, planting a gentle kiss on your shoulder. You mindlessly nod. “Though I’m glad you’re awake. I missed you.”

His soft kisses soon travel up the column of your throat, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Changbin effortlessly moves your body so you’re lying on your back, a soft smile playing on his lips as he leans in to kiss you.

And it feels wrong.

His tongue swipes against your lower lip, soon pushing against yours, and his taste has you clutching your fists. He slots himself between your thighs like he’s done countless times, and the weight of his body on top of you has your face twisting into a scowl. He slips a hand underneath your shirt, and the feeling of his calloused fingers across your skin has you instinctively pushing him away.

Changbin looks stunned for a beat, but his lips soon curl into a playful grin.

“Not in the mood?” He simply asks, and it makes you want to cry.

Because Changbin has always been the perfect man. He was gentle, never demanding, and always so caring to you. Even after his sudden change, his only flaw was how distant he’s become.

He is completely unaware of how you callously hurt him in the worst way possible, and the weight of that realization erases any urge you had to cry. You don’t deserve that relief.

After pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, Changbin sits up on the bed. You remain motionless, focusing on how the moonlight casts shadows on the ceiling instead of how your heart twists painfully inside your chest. You only break out of this trance once he hums beside you.

“Your mom called,” he tells you, his fingers swiping across his phone screen when you face him. “Forgot to tell you. I had to tell her we chose to postpone the wedding,” he chuckles casually, and you tightly clutch the covers.

Fuck.

“I didn’t wanna tell her yet, but…” you trail off with a shaky sigh. “I guess it’s okay.”

Changbin shrugs dismissively. “Yeah, she told me you avoided the topic when she called you. She was upset, though I don’t get it,” he scoffs. “We’re still getting married, just not now.”

Those words are enough to have your heart shatter completely.

Sadly, the happiness your selfishness brought you that week is nothing compared to the sorrow that envelops you for disappointing your mother.

Chan gave you the space he knew you needed.

Even though you gave him the happiest six days of his entire bleak existence only to leave him alone and wondering, he gave you space.

The way he forgot about everything else during those days with you was almost like a fantasy. Inside the little atmosphere you created, it was just the two of you and the love he had kept hidden for so long. He needed nothing more.

And then you left, and he gave you space.

Until the days turned into weeks, and he watched as two months slipped through his fingers like sand. Even though Changbin hadn’t visited the gym in over three months, Chan’s heart still clung to the hope that he would show up, longing for the chance to ask about you. He also hoped you’d reach out, even if it meant you’d ignore everything that happened in your little world and simply talk about the weather.

Every day, his hopes are shattered into a million little pieces.

He’d take anything over your silence. He would take you as a friend over as a familiar stranger in a heartbeat, would take his heart being broken over not having you at all. He endured that for over a decade, and he would happily ruin himself for you every single day.

And so Chan finds himself knocking at your door, his shirt clinging to his chest after a relentless afternoon of punching the sandbag in his office, futilely hoping to escape thoughts of you. He eventually walked out of the gym, heart pounding in his chest as he sprinted to your apartment as if he was scared you would disappear. Because he was.

As you slowly open the door, he finally stands before you. Your eyes widen as you take in his appearance — his ruddy cheeks, labored breath, and shaky hands that fumble to fix his disheveled hair. But Chan swears you’re the sole culprit for his heart hammering against his ribcage.

“What are you—”

“I want you to pretend it never happened,” he exasperates, “Pretend we never said anything, never did anything, just pretend. We can pretend together, I don’t care. Just don’t cut me out of your life like this.”

“Chan,” you murmur, pursing your lips before continuing. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“You said you didn’t wanna pretend that nothing happened between us. You said that,” he argues, trying but ultimately failing his attempt at keeping his voice down.

Chan feels as if his mind is unraveling. Every emotion he kept nestled inside his chest for years had finally spilled out the moment your lips touched his, and trying to bury this love again felt like a cruel punishment.

“Back in my apartment, I told you we should just pretend nothing happened, but you…” his voice dissipates into a sigh, the words dying at his throat, replaced by a lump that swelled in his throat.

He feels pathetic, adverting his gaze simply to blink away the tears that have gathered in his lashes. But when he turns to look at you again, your eyes are already pouring.

“I’m sorry,” you bawl, fingers gripping the doorframe until your knuckles turn white. “Chan, I’m so fucking sorry, but I can’t do this.”

Chan gnaws on his bottom lip, his eyes fixed on you as you turn and walk away, leaving him alone by your door. As he watches your figure disappear into the hallway, he realizes he cannot bear the agony of only helplessly watching you any longer.

“You said you were happy,” he yells out, following after you like a phantom you carelessly disregard. The sound of his voice echoes behind you, ignored as you enter the kitchen and resume drying plates and cutlery. Chan continues, “You started it. You chose to cross that line, chose to stay, chose to keep letting me make love to you every damn night—”

You drop a plate on the counter with a scowl, the delicate porcelain chipping at the edge. “Love?” You scoff bitterly at Chan, shaking your head. “That wasn’t love. That was a mistake.”

“That’s not what you said,” Chan retorts, and your eyes soften. He breathes out a heavy sigh. At this point, he knows he’s gone beyond desperation. He still continues, “Tell me you weren’t happy.”

“Chan…”

“Tell me,” he insists. “Tell me and I’ll gladly pretend with you.”

“I was scared!” You blurt out, “That week with you was the happiest I had been in so long, and it terrified me. But maybe that’s love, huh? Being selfish, putting myself before everyone else and acting like a fucking teenager. That’s surely love,” you scoff, words dripping with sarcasm.

A heavy silence falls between you. Chan is back in that familiar place, watching you engage in a silent battle within yourself, distant eyes almost boring holes into the chipped plate in your hands. Deep inside, he knows you’re right. It is selfish to want you to abandon everything you built for a dormant love you both buried so long ago.

But maybe being selfish is exactly what you both need. Maybe love isn’t selflessness, maybe it’s the complete opposite.

“Maybe that’s the love we deserve,” Chan breaks the deafening silence, carefully stepping closer to you. “After all these years of stupidly sacrificing our own happiness, maybe selfish love is the kind of love we need.”

But you remain silent. Your eyes wander around, almost as if you’re taking in the life that reflects the choices you’ve made. The walls of your hallway, adorned with polaroid pictures telling your story with Changbin, from just friends to the night of your engagement. Your fridge, where colorful magnets hold up little notes from Changbin, filled with sweet nothings and inside jokes. Chan notices the date on the most recent one, realizing it was over seven months ago.

As the minutes tick by, Chan braces himself for your words. He’s ready to be called insane, for you to yell and rightfully reject any notion of continuing your friendship. He knows there’s no going back to the way things were. That possibility died the moment you stepped into his apartment that fateful night.

Instead, you gaze up at him and whisper four words that leave him completely stunned.

“Run away with me.”

And Chan’s never been able to deny you.

Before you two can even make sense of anything, you’re already in your bedroom. Chan packs your bags while you kneel beside your bed, hastily jotting down words on a piece of paper. Your sudden giggle has him biting back a smile that blossoms on his face when you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him into a deep kiss. He sighs into your lips. Your love was unearthed, dirty and tainted, but still breathing. It was sinful and borderline cataclysmic, but it was yours.

Since you were both ten years old, it has always been yours.

Your letter to Changbin hangs alongside the love notes he’d left for you over the years; selfish words nestled between sincere ones.

Inside his car, Chan’s hand intertwines with yours, and he watches your lips curl into a smile that finally reaches your eyes. It’s the first time he’s seen that expression grace your face in years.

And Chan’s emotions mirrored your own, so he made it his mission to make that happiness everlasting.

Even if it was through a selfish love.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @redstayrosie, @binniesbabygirl, @pynchkilledme, @chansbabygirlsstuff, @pheonixfire777, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent

[seospicybin]

BANGCHAN

MY WORKS ARE NSFW & 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

These are purely works of fictions. There is now way it represent Stray Kids in any way.

* S for smut. F for fluff. A for Angst.

Imprint. (s,f) Jealous boyfriend Bangchan make sure everyone knows you’re taken before lets you go for a night out.

Couch Surfing. (s,f) Bangchan got curious of whom you’re texting with.

Bash. (s, f) You threw a surprise birthday party for Chan but he seemed to dislike it at the end of the night.

Stack. (s) All bets are off for a game night with Bangchan.

Untie. (s) On Bangchan’s birthday, Hyunjin gifts him the best birthday gift he could present to him, and that gift is you.

Mirror Mirror. (s) You and Bangchan have planned a dinner date for weeks but it seems like the plan has to be canceled, and it was all because of you.

Haven. (s,f,a) As an old friend of him, Bangchan offered you to stay in his apartment for a week for work and to rekindle the sparks you once had for each other.

Stars Aligned. (s,f) Part I / Part II / Part III / Final Chan moved to a new apartment and find you as an attractive neighbor who lives next door, and happens to be Jeongin’s aunt. The surprise doesn’t stop there, truth begins to unfold the moment he acknowledged there’s a men in your life.

Thinning. (s,f) You’ve been bestfriends with Chan for a few years. That remains the same until one day he got to leave for the summer. Once he comeback, he was too late to realize that he has feelings for you.

Untie The Knot. (s,f) You finally, finally get to sleep with someone you’ve been secretly crushing on, the popular employee at work, Chris. Everything was perfect until all of a sudden, your father comes barging in and trap him in a family affair.

Homesick. (s,f) The next chapter of Haven. After being separated by the distance, Chan learns to build a new home with you.

One Perfect Wave. (s,f) A part of One Series. You’re back for the summer to catch some waves and a walk down the memory lane with your high school crush, Chan.

Folder 103. (s) Everyone knows that the one item Chan always brings with him everywhere is his laptop but what they don’t know is the contents of a secret folder named 103.

Bad idea, right? (s) Your ex, Chan, makes a return to his social media with a thirst trap. Horny and bored, you decide to see him for the sole reason of getting your physical needs fulfilled. However, as the night goes, you start to wonder if seeing him tonight is a bad idea.

The Fuckboy Next Door. (s,a)

Part I / Part II / Part III Having issues to break up with your boyfriend, you seek help from the boy next door and the number one fuckboy in the area, Chan.

Belonging. (s,f,a) Bangchan x reader x Lee Know.

Chan and Minho’s life together takes a surprising turn when an unexpected visitor arrives on the night of their anniversary.

Double Take. (s) I.N x reader x Bangchan. You reunited with Jeongin after being away from each other for months when all of sudden Bangchan caught you both during a steamy session.

Three of A Kind. (s) Bangchan x reader x Hyunjin. Part I / Part II / Part III Late night drinking and a card game, plus two pretty boys? what’s the worst that could happen?

Aces High. (s) Bangchan x reader x Hyunjin. On your birthday, you put your two boyfriends to a test to find out which one of them knows you better and as the celebration continues, they take their turn to put you on a test.

White Noise. (s) Bangchan x reader x Jeongin. Quietly version / Chaotic version Bangchan got annoyed with the noises you made with Jeongin in the next room.

On The Road. (s,f,a) Bangchan, Han & Jeongin x reader.

Part I / Part II

A group of friends going on a road trip that, little did they know, will change their lives forever.

Dark Red. (s,f, horror, thriller) Part III Seospicy's Halloween special.

0325. (s,f) Skz x reader. SIDE A A series of short fics inspired by Stray Kids songs.

[atinyniki]

100 things i like love about you.

group: stray kids !

pairing: nonidol!lee know x f!reader

genre: romance, slow burn, fluff, little angst???

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, drinking, vomiting, kissing, other members of JYP groups are side characters, overthinker lino, whipped reader, lee know is referred to as minho and min.

authors note: hiii im niki (nikita) ! this is my first time writing a fic and i decided to try and make one for lee knows birthday. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 6191

(pt. 2)

it’s mid july and you’re sat at your computer at home, unable to think about what you should get your roommate for his birthday. 

it’s never too early to plan right?

minho had given you the best birthday you could have possibly asked for. he brought you all of your favorite snacks and you two pulled an all nighter watching dorky kdramas. 

you truly didn’t know how to feel about the gift he gave you at the end of the day though. all he gave you was an envelope before he headed to bed. 

you still remember everything that was said in the note he gave you. you didn’t know minho had it in him to write such a beautiful letter. inside were a few cute polaroids you guys took over the years as well.

you wanted minho’s birthday gift to be as special as his was to you. 

then it hit you.

the best idea ever.

you decide to call it “100 things”. you knew minho deserved a thoughtful gift, and you knew he’d appreciate it. you immediately went out to buy cute notecards and kitty print washi tape.

once you returned, you got back on your laptop and check the date. 

july 16… perfect !

you decided that you’re going to use this extra day to plan. you open an empty document and start creating a list. 

at first, you thought it’d be too difficult to think of so many things, but once you actually started writing it was difficult to stop yourself. you start wondering if minho would realize your true feelings towards him after reading all those cards.

it was no secret to you or your friends that you’ve been head over heels for lee minho for the past two or so years. 

you make sure to brainstorm carefully. you don’t know what you would do if he were to find out, and quite honestly you didn’t want to pain yourself with the thought either.

you were brought out of your thoughts when you heard a loud knock on the door. you quickly saved your progress, and shut your laptop. 

“come in!”

as soon as minho opened the door, you were met with a toothy grin on his face. 

“i made your favorite, are you hungry?” you nodded quickly, blushing a little at the gesture, but not enough for minho to notice.

slowly, you got out of your chair and made your way to the door. you senses were immediately filled with the savory aromas, and you couldn’t help but smile.

you’ve always loved minho’s cooking, and minho loved cooking, so it worked out perfectly for the both of you. 

what you didn’t know though, was that the main reason he always cooked for you was to see that adorable smile on your face while you were eating. he loved the way your cheeks would puff up whenever you stuffed more food in your mouth and how you’d thank him with a grin after every meal. 

he didn’t mean to be weird, but he always found himself staring at you while eating. normally, he’d try to focus on finishing his food but he couldn’t help but watch your cheeks inflate more and more. 

this time was no different. you used the chopsticks to quickly fish out the bell peppers, something minho noticed you’ve always done. 

you glance over at minho to see that he’s not even half done with his plate yet. 

“what’s wrong? are you not hungry?”

“oh no, sorry. i just zoned out i guess” he continued eating but stopped again when he noticed your eyes soften.

“do you want to watch a movie after this? you don’t have to, i just thought you needed a break from all your wo-“

“yeah of course y/n.” he cut off your rambling, and chuckled a little at your words. you smiled back, quickly finishing your food and getting up to wash your plate. 

minho finished not too long after, and he went to go meet you at the couch. “so what do you want to watch?” you asked. “we can continue watching that show we were watching earlier if you want” 

you put on the show and laid back, grabbing a blanket from your side to lay over the both of you. minho stared intently at the tv, and you were starting to think he loved this show even more than you did. soon you found yourself staring at his eyes, his gaze still focused on the tv. you made a mental note to add it to the list. there was just something about his brown boba eyes that you found so perfect. 

soon, you started to doze off, but tried your best to stay awake. it was the best part of the show, when the leads find out they’ve been in love with each other for months, but you were tired. you’ve studied for so long today, and you just couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. 

your eyes slowly fluttered shut, your breathing becoming even. not too long after, the episode ended and minho was broken out of his trance. he was so focused on the plot that he didn’t even notice you had fallen asleep. a smile slowly appeared on his face, you looked so peaceful when you were sleeping. 

minho carefully pushed himself off the couch, not wanting to wake you, and went over to your room. he pulled up the covers and kept the door wide open. 

quickly, he made his way back to the living room and picked you up, making sure not to shake you that much. he carried you to your room, silently giggling at the way you nuzzled into his warmth. he placed you down on the bed carefully, and tucked you in. 

he left your room and shut the door behind him. he wondered if you could hear how fast his heart was beating. he noticed the kitty washi tape on your desk, and reminded himself to ask you if he could borrow it later.

you woke up the next morning, not remembering how you got into your bed. you got ready for the day ahead, even though you were gonna spend most of it inside. 

you quickly made yourself a bagel, and headed back to your room to write. you decided on writing about his bunny teeth first. his cute bunny teeth that would peek out whenever he was sleeping or focused on something. you thought his bunny teeth suited him wonderfully.

you made sure to make the note sound as friendly as possible, you didn’t want to ruin your friendship after all. you kept writing, but it all sounded too sappy. when you finally got it right, you put all the wasted notecards in the bin, and headed to the living room again to watch the last of the episode you missed last night. 

on your way to the living room, you passed by minho’s room, but you didn’t expect him to still be asleep. his bunny teeth were on full display, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way his face is still puffy from his sleeping state.

you quickly make your way to the kitchen, cooking breakfast for minho to surprise him.  

noticing that he wasn’t awake yet, you left the house as quietly as you could and ran to the local convenience store to buy him some pudding. 

once you reenter your house, you see minho walking out of the corridor, indicating that he’s probably just gotten ready for the day. he was surprised to see food on the table, and even more surprised to see 3 cups of pudding in your hands. the second he saw what you were holding, his eyes lit up and he grinned. 

“awhhh you did all this for meeee?” he teased. “shut up, this is just for last night” you retorted. you made your way to minho and handed him a pudding cup, storing the remaining two in the fridge to cool. 

“thank you, y/n”

you were a little thrown off by the sincerity in his voice, contradicting the teasing voice he had just used. your heart fluttered at the tone, “your welcome” you quickly mumbled.

you watched as he quickly finished his food and headed back to his room. you didn’t really feel like watching your show right now anymore, so you walked back into your room to quickly complete your list.

a week later, you were working on an upcoming assignment, and you jumped a little when you heard your phone ringing. you smiled when you saw the name, “jinnie” written in bold at the top.

“hyunjin! hey, what’s up?”

“hey y/nnie. i was just wondering if you were coming to the party tonight!” you weren’t much of a partier, it wasn’t really your thing. “probably not, why?” hyunjins exaggerated groan made you laugh. 

“but you never come to parties! please?” he begged. “no, there’s nothing to do there anyways”

“what do you mean? there’s lots to do! we play so many games and…” 

“and…?”

“minho’s gonna be there”

“wait what? minho never goes to parties though?” you were careful not to talk too loudly so minho wouldn’t hear. “yeah, he wanted to see chan since it’s been so long”, hyunjin started giggling at how invested you were now. 

“fine, i’ll think about it, but only if minho agrees to drive me.” 

“fine with me! hopefully i’ll see you there y/nnie. bye now!” you laughed a little at his excitement. “bye jinnie” 

minho was deep in his work during your phone call, trying to think of new lines to implement into his song. all of a sudden, he heard a knock on his door. “come in!”

you make your way into his room stepping over the mess on the floor. you know he always gets like this when he’s working on new songs. “are you going to the party tonight?”

“yeah, you going?”

“yeah, hyunjin somehow convinced me to” you awkwardly chuckle. 

“i’m guessing you need a ride?”, you laughed. “well yeah, obviously”, you retorted, rolling your eyes. he chuckled at your actions, “i’d be happy to drive you”

you walk over to him and ruffle his hair playfully “thanks min!” and you trotted out. all he could do was stare at the door as left, still in shock. he started to wonder if you’d play with his hair like that if you two were actually together, but he quickly snapped himself out of it and decided not to pain himself with such thoughts. 

a couple hours later, you pick out a nice red dress and do your makeup. you know jisung’s parties are always crazy, hyunjin’s always talking about them. you expect there to be a lot of partying, so you dress nice.

you make your way out just on time, minho’s exiting his room too, but halts his movements when he sees you. he’s never seen you like this before, and suddenly he feels underdressed. he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. 

you seem to notice this, and your confidence has suddenly boosted. “you can stop staring now”, a smug smile plastered on your face. 

minho meets your gaze and suddenly realizes what he’s been doing. “oh what- wait sorry i didnt realize i was-“, you giggled at his stammering.

“dork”

you quickly made your way to the entrance of your home. minho’s ears start to turn the same shade as his crimson cheeks, frozen in the corridor.

“COME ON WE’RE GONNA BE LATE” you yell from the hall. 

he rushes to the door and grabs his keys, locking the door behind him and settling in his car. he waits for you to get in, and then you’re off to jisung’s.

the drive wasn’t too far away, but it felt like forever for minho. you were sat there humming a song in peace, but he couldn’t get his mind off of what happened before in the hall. 

could you see how much he liked you? did he make you uncomfortable? thoughts like these were running through his mind the entire time, but he was just hoping that he could forget about them at the party.

when you both walked into jisung’s house, you were instantly greeted by changbin, who was sitting on the couch near the front door with hyunjin. 

“Y/N! YOU MADE IT” hyunjin yelled out of excitement.

“YAH! keep it down hyunjin” changbin scolded.

you laughed and made your way into the kitchen, where you saw chan greet minho with a smile. you were met with ryujin and yuna, who squealed at the sight of you. 

“y/n… finally at a party hm?”, yuna said as she pulled you in for a hug. ryujin chimed in, “that dress is gorgeous by the way”. you smiled, “thank you”. you don’t wear dresses very often, but they make you feel pretty. maybe you should start wearing them more. 

the drinks were all set out on the table, you haven’t had any alcohol in a while. minho had already told you beforehand that he wouldn’t be drinking so he could drive you home safe, so you figured you might as well. you took a shot with yeji. 

and another.

and then another…

it was too early in the party to get wasted, but to be honest you didn’t really care. it’s been a while since you drank and you wanted to let loose.

“shall we start the games?” asked jisung.

“what types of games?” questioned changbin. 

“oh you know… the usual”

you haven’t been to any of ji’s parties, so you weren’t really sure what the usual was. it’s not like you were sober enough to care anyways.

the set of games started with 7 minutes in heaven. 

minho’s heart dropped. he was scared. the thought of you kissing one of the guys here made him sick to his stomach. 

“y/n’s turn first!”, seungmin slurred.

you slowly went over to the hat to pick a name out. 

“chan” you read aloud. 

slowly, chan got up and led you to the room. it was dark, but the rules were the rules. you sat down on the bed with chan, a small frown on your face. 

he laughed a little at your disappointment, “what’s wrong, were you hoping to pick minho?” 

your eyes widened and you stared up to look at him. “how did you-“ 

“you’re not very good at hiding your feelings you know”, he cuts you off and smiles at you again. 

“i’m sorry chan, i know this isn’t how the game is really supposed to be played but i want to save my first kiss for someone special and-“ 

“FIRST KISS?!” chan screamed.

you smacked a hand over his mouth, “shut up they’ll hear you!” you whispered

“sorry, sorry” he mumbled

minho heard chan through the thin walls of the room. it wasn’t too hard to hear considering the fact that chan practically yelled it. minho’s heart dropped straight to his stomach. did chan just steal your first kiss? were you even thinking straight considering that you were drunk?

questions ran through his mind, and hyunjin noticed minho’s eyes darting around the room. hyunjin holds on to minho’s shoulder, “you okay min?” 

“yeah i’m fine, i’m gonna go grab some water” 

once minho returns, he sees that you and chan have already left the room. 

“have fun you two?” jeongin teased.

“you know we did���, you replied with a wink.

chan started laughing, and the lump growing in minho’s throat started growing bigger. 

suddenly, you felt sick. it was probably the alcohol, so you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom. 

worried, minho followed you there, only to see you on the ground in front of the toilet. he quickly rushed to you and held your hair so it wouldn’t get wet. you were embarrassed but it’s not like you could really do anything when you’re throwing up buckets. 

you had finally calmed down and looked at him. his hands were intertwined with yours, and you made sure to add his touch to the list too. pure worry swirled around in his chocolate eyes.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean-“ 

“it’s okay. are you feeling better? do you want to leave?”

you really did just want to go home and rest, but didn’t want minho to miss out on the fun.

“do you want to stay?”, you asked hesitantly. 

“if you’re feeling sick i’m more than happy to bring you home now y/n.” ‘you’re my top priority’ he wanted to add. 

he helped you up and dried your face after you washed it, he preferred you without makeup anyways. it was easier to see your perfect features clearly. he tucked a stray hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear, and walked out of the bathroom with you. 

“guys y/n is feeling a little sick so we’ll have to be leaving now. sorry to cut it so short” he quickly announces. he leads you out, listening to the “get well soon!”s and “hope you feel better”s. the drive back home is silent. minho can’t stop thinking about what happened between you and chan today. he didn’t know that you’ve never kissed anyone before. and now that he knows, he wished you had saved it for him. 

you arrive home and he walks you back into your room. minho brings you your sweats and a t-shirt, his t-shirt, along with a pair of undergarments straight from the dryer. you reminded yourself to add to the list later. you admired how caring he was towards people, even if he didn’t show it much.

“call me if you need help okay? i’ll be right outside the door. tell me when you’re done changing” 

not too long after, you call him back in your room. he smiled at you, the oversized t-shirt hanging off one of your shoulders. he probably thought you’d be too drunk to notice, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like if you were to steal his clothes everyday to wear. 

you make your way into the bed, exhausted and tired from what had happened earlier. minho places a glass of water next to you, and sits down on the bed next to you. you didn’t mean to, but you couldn’t stop yourself from cuddling up into the warmth of his body.

he let himself sink down a little in the pillows, so it was more comfortable for you. his heart was beating so fast that he thought you could hear it. he couldn’t control his thoughts, and his mind drifted back to what happened between you and chan.

“was chan really your first kiss?, he asks softly. you suddenly felt a pang in your chest. “no, we just talked. i told him i wanted to save my first kiss for someone special and he kind of freaked”

minho let out a light sigh of relief, and prayed you didn’t hear. he began to rub soothing circles on your back with his thumbs.

you know minho isn’t a very big fan of physical touch, but the gesture didn’t go unnoticed. in fact, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. you felt tears well up in your eyes, no one has really taken the time to care for you like this. 

as much as you tried to fight it, light sobs shook your body. you’ve been so overwhelmed with your feelings, you truly just needed a hug. minho felt your body shake, and pulled away in panic.

he slid down further on the bed. “what’s wrong? are you okay?”, he made sure to speak softly. he didn’t want to overwhelm you. you clutched his shirt tightly in your hands, balled into fists. 

he was scared. he didn’t know what was wrong, but the least he could do was be there for you. he stayed. he made sure to stay awake till you fell asleep. and soon after, sleep overtook his body as well.

you never talked about that night after that. you woke up in his arms that day, you still remember the way your heart started doing somersaults. he later brought you all the essentials for your hangover, and cooked you some food too. you couldn’t get over the domesticity of it all. you wanted him to be there for the rest of your life. you just couldn’t spit it out already.

you never returned his shirt.

a couple weeks later, you’re writing another card again, this time about his ears. you found it adorable the way they would get red whenever he was flustered.

you hear the door open and check the time. it’s late, almost half past midnight. you open your door to see a disheveled minho staring at you. your heart cracks at the sight. 

“sorry, did i wake you? i just got back from dance, i didn’t-“

“no it’s fine, i was up working on… a couple assignments. are you okay?”

minho didn’t answer your question. not because he was ignoring you but just because he didn’t know how to.

you tell him you’d be right back, and run over to the bathroom, leaving him in the hallways confused. while he waits for you, he places down his bag and gets out a comfortable shirt and some sweats.

you run a warm bubble bath for him, making sure it wasn’t uncomfortably hot, and put in a couple bath salts to color the water a soft shade of pink. 

you make your way back to minho’s room. “min”, you spoke softly, “i ran you a bubble bath”

his heart twists at your tone, he wasn’t expecting something like this. he wanted to thank you, but he was too exhausted to do so, so he just smiled. he walked over to the bathroom and locked the door. you hoped he’d feel better soon.

it was early september now, and you were writing another one of your notes. you thought minho would really appreciate your gift, you just had a lot of trouble making it sound more platonic. 

minho knocked on your door again, handing you a plate with cut up fruit on it. you smiled at him, “thanks min”. and got back to work. 

“what’re you working on?” 

“oh nothing important, just a present”

he didn’t think anything of it so he left it alone. as he was walking out, he saw your trash bin filled to the brim. “i’ll swap this out”

“oh sorry! i didn’t notice it was that full already. thanks again minho”

now, minho wasn’t trying to snoop. he was honestly just trying to help you. he was taking out the trash when one of the scrapped notecards fell out the bin. he picked it up and read the title. ‘your lips’

he wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but he was curious, and couldn’t stop himself from reading the rest. ‘i love the way your lips sit-‘ and just a bunch of scribbles. 

his heart drops. were you writing love letters to someone? he picked up another one. ‘your warmth’ ‘i love the way your warmth makes me feel like im wrapped in a safety blanket-’ and more scribbles

who was making you feel this way? minho decided not to ask about it. he didn’t think you’d appreciate his snooping. he trashed the letters and made his way into his room. he wrapped himself in a blanket, but his room just felt cold.

everything felt cold. minho felt cold. maybe he was too late. maybe he should have confessed to you a year ago. he felt empty. he couldn’t sleep that night. 

it was nearing the end of october now, meaning minho’s birthday was coming up. you two have gotten closer over the past couple months, and you couldn’t be more grateful, but recently he seemed off.

when you wake up, you quickly go to the convenience store to grab some flour. even though you already had a gift, you wanted his birthday to be special. he had no plans so you figured why not? 

while at the store, you also made sure to pick up some blue food dye for the frosting.

recently, minho couldn’t get seem to get out out his mind. he wondered if you were a secret admirer of someone, or maybe you were seeing them. he hasn’t been as affectionate recently either, he didn’t want to ruin anything for you.

it’s october 24th now, just one more day until his birthday. you prepare your cards, and place them neatly in a decorated blue box. you decided that you’d write the last one at midnight on his birthday along with a small letter. 

you leave your room to see minho at the kitchen table, quickly eating lunch before he went out for groceries. 

you groaned “oh come on, stay home! it’s your birthday tomorrow for gods sake.” he laughed at your whining “i’ll go, just text me the list.”, you continued.

“nah i need some fresh air anyways. do you want to…”, he trailed off.

“want to what?”

“would you like to come with me?”

you didn’t understand why he was so hesitant, but you nodded and just grabbed your jacket. 

you both arrived at the shop and you immediately ran off towards the pastry section. minho had to chase after you so he didn’t lose you.

“do you want the cherry or the peach filled ones?”, you asked him excitedly.

“cherry”

minho couldn’t help but smile at you. he wished he could go grocery shopping with you for the rest of his life, but he couldn’t. he stopped his mind before it could get off track, and decided to focus on his time with you instead. 

you two finish grocery shopping, and you made sure to grab an extra two cups of pudding. 

it was now nearing the end of the day, only two hours before midnight. you set up your gift, and got your last card ready for writing later. 

as the time got closer, you suddenly became nervous. you were worried that minho would be able to see right through you and discover your true feelings. 

it’s was only ten minutes before his birthday. once you had finished brainstorming what you would write on his last card, you made your way over to his room at 11:58. 

you knocked quietly on the door. “min? can i come in?”. no answer.

you thought he’d fallen asleep, so you opened the door and peered through the crack, not wanting the hallways lights to wake him. to your surprise you see minho at his desk, busy with some work. he hummed along to the tune of the track, his voice low.

he hadn’t heard you come in due to his noise-canceling headset. you checked your phone. october 25. you slowly walked over to his chair where he was sitting and put your hands over his. 

he shook a little bit, a little surprised by the sudden touch and he took off his headset. “sorry i didn’t mean to startle you…”, you paused. “happy birthday min”

he teared up a little at the softness in your voice while saying this. he felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, and soon it became a grin. you were happy to see him smile, and wondered if he’d feel the same way after opening your gift. “thank you y/n”.

you heard a small quiver in his voice, but accounted it for his tiredness.

“go to sleep soon, we have a long day tomorrow”

“oh yeah? what are we doing?”, you giggled. “making you the best cake you’ll ever have”, he smiled at your confidence. he was a great cook, but isn’t all that great at making sweets. 

“thank you, y/n. it means a lot that you waited down to the minute” 

your eyes widened a little at his sincerity. he only uses this soft voice when you’re sick or dozing off. 

“of course min, goodnight”

you walked into your room and you felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. you packed up all the cards and decorated the box with cute little cat drawings. 

you decided to head to bed for the night, and set your alarm at the same time as minho’s. you didn’t want to miss a single second with him.

you got ready for the day ahead, meeting minho in the kitchen. you got the cocoa powder out from the pantry. “what do you say we have some chocolate cake for breakfast?”

“hopefully you don’t set the kitchen on fire again” 

you thought back to the last time you tried to bake something last time. you got distracted watching tv and couldn’t smell the poor pie burning.

you and minho began to make the batter, some splattering on the counter. while mixing, some of the batter got on your finger, and you couldn’t stop yourself from tasting it. even though it probably isn’t safe to eat raw eggs, a drop can’t hurt right?

you turn to see minho staring at you, laughing. “you just couldn’t resist, huh?”

you turned back to your bowl and continued mixing, and minho couldn’t help but smile. he wondered what it would be like if you could always cook together. 

minho began to work on making the frosting, a light chocolate buttercream. you put the cake in the oven and waited for it to finish while minho brought out the cooling rack and placed it on the counter.

you checked the time. 1:47 PM. you didn’t expect this to take so long, and your stomach was grumbling just about every second.

minho laughed at your groaning. “would you like some pudding?”

“no i’m okay, i’ll just wait for the cake”

minho grabbed a spoon from the drawer and picked up some pudding.

“here, you’re hungry”

all you could do was smile. you wanted minho to enjoy his pudding, but if you were going to be honest, you were really hungry. 

you finally gave in, the vanilla coating your tongue. you hummed in satisfaction. “thank you minho!” 

he couldn’t help but smile at how you sounded like a child. the cake was finally finished after a while, and minho went to go chill the cake while you enjoyed your pudding. 

once the cake was fully baked through, you grabbed the piping bag and started icing the cake. you drew pretty chocolate rosettes around the top. 

minho admired your skill, surprised that you knew how to pipe perfect rosettes. he continued to let you do your thing, and soon the cake was done. 

it was about 2:38 now, and you both were so hungry. you each cut yourself a slice of cake and sat down at the couch. 

“oh my gosh this is amazing, genuinely the best chocolate cake i’ve ever had”

after hearing minho’s reaction you were glad you had looked up so many recipes. 

“thank you”, you replied, mouth still full.

minho loved seeing how happy you were while you were eating. it’s great to appreciate good food.

not too long after, you both finish your cake and put the rest in the fridge. you both sit back down on the couch to watch a movie. you decided to treat minho to a horror movie, since he loved them.

you were a little skeptical about it, since you get scared easily, but figured you should make an exception today, for him. minho didn’t understand why you were being so incredibly caring, but he didn’t mind it.

you started the movie, and the intro was already unsettling. you started to shift in your seat uncomfortably next to minho. you tried not to move too much since you didn’t want to bother. 

the movie started getting more suspenseful. you were practically on edge, trying not to make a noise. all of a sudden you feel something warm under the blanked. you tore your eyes off of the tv to see minho staring at you.

“are you okay? if it’s too scary i can shut it off” 

as much as you wanted to be honest, you couldn’t. “no it’s okay, i don’t mind”

minho’s hand never let go of yours during the duration of the rest of the movie. it was heavily comforting, and you didn’t seem to be as scared anymore.

“i can’t believe you did all this for me y/n. i was really just planning on treating myself to some pudding today.”

“well, im not done just yet”

minho was appalled. “there’s more?!”, he exclaimed. “it’s nothing much, just meet me in your room in five, i have to get it ready.”

minho was curious as to what it could possibly be. he made his way back to his room, while you grabbed the decorated blue box and made sure the notecards were sorted in the right order. 

you make your way to minho’s room, your heart beating loudly. you suddenly felt incredibly nervous, but it’s not like you could change your mind now. 

minho’s eyes drift to the blue box in your hands. “what’s that?”. you sit on the bed next to him and hand him the box. 

“open it”

he removed the lid of the box and his jaw dropped. the notecards. he picked one up, the first line had the date and time. ‘your smile’

‘you have such an amazing smile. i love the way your eyes crinkle and how you smile with your whole being. it warms my heart to be able to see it so often’

he was speechless. he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. he picked up another card. ‘the mole on your nose’, and then another, ‘your lips’, except this time, the description was complete. 

you were practically beaming at him as he shuffled through the cards. but you didn’t expect him to look back up at you with tears in his eyes. 

i love you so much

your eyes widened.

shit. did he just say that out loud?

“i’m sorry, i didn’t- i didn’t mean to say that out loud”

“you love me…?”, you stared at him in complete shock. you didn’t know what to say. 

fuck. he knew there was no turning back now. “of course i love you. how could i not? you do so much for me y/n. you make me feel like i can be myself. your touch feels like im being lit on fire. my heart feels like it’s going to beat out my chest every time i see you. not to mention you’re absolutely gorgeous and-“

before he could say anything else, you crashed your lips into his. you didn’t know where it was going or what you were going to do, but you knew you wanted to save your first for someone special. you wanted to save it for minho. his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. the kiss wasn’t really urgent or needy, and instead it was comforting. you loved the feeling of his lips on yours.

you slowly pulled away from him, foreheads touching and breath fanning just under his nose. “you don’t know how long i’ve waited to do that”, your words coming out breathy. 

you can’t get over how beautiful minho looks right now. his hair is a mess due to your hands pulling at it. his lips swollen and pink from the kiss you had just shared. 

“i love you y/n”

you kiss the small mole on his nose and smile at him. 

“i love you more minho”

his entire face lit up at those few words. he let the tears fall freely now, burying his head into your shoulder. “thank you for everything y/n. you’re the best gift i could have ever asked for”

his voice was honest. sincere. soft. you knew he meant it, and you could hear the raw emotion that his words contained. you brought you hand to his face to wipe away a stray tear. 

“i can’t wait to experience so many new exciting things with you.”

he looked back up at you and smiled, picking up the box behind him and setting it on his dresser. there was the familiar look in his eyes again, and you were stupid not to notice it before. he pulls you into bed and wraps you in a hug.

“min? what are you-“ 

“shhh. please, just for a little while”

you smiled at his words, and held him back. you peppered kisses all over his face, listening to his soft whines. you could definitely get used to the feeling of minhos skin on your lips.

slowly, you heard his heavy breathing turn into light snores. you reached over him to turn off the lights, and held him for the rest of the night. you wanted him to sleep peacefully now. he deserved it.

you two would talk about what happened in the morning, but right now this moment was too special to waste.

<3

[haven-0325]

With it being Minho's birthday...I just imagine him so flustered by all the attention he got all day long. He pretends he doesn't care too much about it, he laughs and jokes when someone tries to tell him in any form of serious manner that they love him. But when he's back in his room, it sinks in and he just feels so important that his eyes get big and teary. He makes himself a drink, keeping his head down, and returns back to bed with sweater paws. Even throughout the movie he's watching, Minho keeps glancing over at his birthday cards lined up on his desk, smiling and chuckling to himself at how silly he feels for his heart beating faster - at the thought of being loved this dearly.

[underaverageheight]

paint my love

hwang hyunjin x artist!gn!reader genre: fluff warning(s): none other than hyune being a bit of a crybaby

note: took me a while but i finally got to fully write out my little thought from here because tbh sending in asks to sage gets my brain going lol

word count: 2.1k omg

“Hey Bin! Um... can you do me a favor? Like a big, big favor?” Your best friend nodded eagerly, awaiting your words. "Can you... buy me a studio? Nothing huge. Just a studio?"

Changbin looked at you as if you were speaking gibberish. At this point, real gibberish would have made more sense. "Um. I love you but why? You have a studio and Hyunjin. Ask Hyunjin."

"Well, you see... I want to give him a new studio for our anniversary but I want to keep it a secret. A very secret secret and it’s not like I can drop a grand or two randomly and play it off." You looked at Changbin, reaching for his hand on the table. "I need you, Binnie."

He raised his eyebrow. "You need my money."

"Well... yeah. But I'm a good friend so I'll say I need you. Besides, I'll pay you back," Grinning, you gave him the best puppy eyes you could muster, causing him to groan in defeat.

"Fine." He pulled out his card. "For the love of this world, do NOT go buying a whole bunch of buildings. Okay? Ask Chan for his card if you're gonna do that." Changbin smirked and handed you his card before getting up to pat Hyunjin's shoulder, who looked at you with a puzzled facial expression.

Later that day, you spent your time sketching cherry blossom trees, scraps of your designs littered the floor of your shared room-turned-mini-studio, which was mostly filled with Hyunjin’s finished projects and some half-finished projects. With both of you being artists, many of your projects mixed with Hyunjin's. You tugged at one of his binders and flipped through the paints your boyfriend had bought or created. You found various shades of pink and red, ones you considered using for your project. After all, it had to be the most perfect anniversary gift for him.

"I'm home~" Hyunjin kicked off his shoes and found you scavenging through his binders and some of your folders. He gave you a quick peck on the top of your head. "Artistic rush?" You nodded and he chuckled, sitting down next to you. "What are you looking for?"

"Just some shades. I'm trying to find the nature catalog." Humming softly, you leaned against his shoulder. "I had a little thought." Laughing softly, you traced patterns on your boyfriend's thigh. "How was practice?"

"It was kinda fun today. We goofed off mostly and we were all okay with it. Even Minho was okay with it." Hyunjin tangled his fingers in the locks of your hair before reaching into a mess of binders and pulled a smaller one out. "Here."

"Thanks Hyunnie.” He hummed his acknowledgement, kissing your cheek again.

“I’m gonna shower and work on some things,” He got up and went to get his clothes from your bedroom. You, on the other hand, grabbed a spare bin, put the catalog, some paints you could easily find, and many brushes or various shapes inside. The rest of the day, you looked into multiple art studios, trying to find ones with a nice view and large windows. 

“This is the one.” You found a lovely, spacious yet cozy studio that faced the west, allowing one to see the prettiest sunsets from the room. Booking a viewing appointment for tomorrow, you quickly made another checklist; things to double check and look for to make sure what you were buying had the proper things. Grabbing your tote bag, a birthday gift from your boyfriend who painted delicate roses on the sides, you put the list in, your car keys, and your wallet with Changbin’s card inside. 

“As you can see, this studio has a smaller, more private office area with a lovely view of the city. It’s perfect for smaller businesses or artists or all kinds. Out here,” the realtor led you out of the little office to the outside space, “is the kitchen and a large open area here that can fit your various needs. Should it be a living room, meeting area, art studio based on your pretty bag there.” The woman smiled, gesturing to your tote bag. 

“It’s beautiful. May I check and look around the studio?” 

“Feel free to. I have another client downstairs so take as much time as you need,” The realtor smiled and left, going to the bottom floor to meet the client. Looking around, you checked for any damage, locating wall outlets, checking the space, checking the windows. Satisfied, you went down the many floors to find the realtor, going to make your down payment with Changbin’s card. 

You better love and use that studio to bits and pieces. Pay me back when you can :>

Texting Changbin back that you promise to pay him back, you drove home, catching Hyunjin on his way back to the house from a company dinner. Next week, you’d start the painting and prep. “Hi Jinnie! I finally figured out my artistic rush. So unfortunately I’ll be busy for a long long time.”

You giggled at the silly ferret’s antics. “Oh no! You’re going to disappear off the face of the Earth for a long time. When can I expect your kisses?” “Mmm… a week or two?”Jaw drop.

“Lord. Are you being summoned to paint down in the depths of hell? What are you painting? A skyscraper?” Hyunjin pounced on you, hugging you tightly and peppering kisses all over you. “Come back alive, my love.”

“Dramatic.” Laughing, you hugged him back, with a big grin, “I just wanna perfect this project. Besides, I literally see you everyday, angel.”

“Alright, alright fine.”

For a few days, you spent hours painting the walls, deciding on a green summery background, with faint mountains in the background. Coming home, you set your bags down, sighing, glad to be home. “Babyy!” Hyunjin comes to you, hugging and spinning you around with a wide grin. “You have green paint on your cheek… You’re really using that nature binder, huh?” 

You flushed a light pink, attempting to wipe off the dried paint. “Ah…” Laughing slightly, you rest your face against Hyunjin’s chest. Stilling slightly, Hyunjin brought his hands up to your head and your back, rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

A week later, you set the wet brush down on the paper, admiring your work. In the center of the wall was a grand cherry blossom tree, its branches stretching across the walls and parts of the ceiling. The white and pink blossoms stood out against the greenery, a flurry of floating blossoms seeming to drift in the wind. After hours of research, you found UV paint and glow in the dark paint. You outlined the tree and some blossoms. You added small details in your mural, working a lot later than you normally had, determined to finish this soon.

By the time you finished detailing, you gasped in wonder as the paint glowed brightly, seeming to shine brighter than the night life down below. The next and last day, you took the UV paint, marking up the mural with tiny messages. Satisfied, you sat on the couch, taking in the view of your finished mural. You were proud of the work you produced, stopping to admire it while you were cleaning up the studio. Before you left for the day, you left a little bag on the counter with a note. 

“Can you believe we’ve almost been dating for 4 years?” Hyunjin smiled as he held you close, his arms wrapped around you, blanketing you with his warmth.

“Speaking of which, I planned dinner at the restaurant we went to on our first date tomorrow.”

“Really? Do you think your message is still by that table in the corner?” Hyunjin’s eyes shined, recalling the memory.

On your first date with him, you both went to this small local restaurant. It was cozy yet elegant in its own way. After finishing your meals, you pointed at the wall next to the table, decorated with messages from its many visitors. “For good luck?” Hyunjin shrugged, pretending not to seem overly excited. “Sure.” You found an open area on the wall, scribbling the date. You thought for a moment before writing Y/n & Hyun - our first date ~ Hyunjin tried his best to hide his smile as you got up to use the restroom. Unbeknownst to you, he stood up and wrote a message of his own near the ceiling, convinced you’d never see his wish for luck. 

“Good morning darling. Happy anniversary~” You woke up to a decorated room, the walls of your shared room covered in many sketches and drawings. 

“What is this?” Walking over to the walls, you read off the writing on a smaller sketch. “‘The 73rd thing I love about you. Your sleeping patterns.’” The sketch depicted a person, presumably yourself, curled up like a koala. You laughed and looked at other sketches. “‘The 12th thing I love about you. Your hugs.’ ‘The 5th thing I love about you. Your smile.’ ‘The 1st thing I love about you. You.’ Aw Jinnie… I love it so much. It’s beautiful. I love you so much. Happy anniversary my love.” You hugged your boyfriend tightly, kissing him lovingly. 

“Where is it…” Your finger traced the walls, scanning for your message. “Found it! Right here, look!” You pointed at your faded handwriting, smiling brightly. You drew a heart near your previous message and wrote a new one. Happy 4 years to the one I love. “I don’t remember if you wrote one. I don’t think you did, did you?”

“I did write one. Honestly, I was completely head over heels for you when I first met you…So I wrote one in secret. Didn’t want to scare you away if you knew how much I cared about you.” Hyunjin blushed, looking away from you before searching the writing near the ceiling, pointing at the corner. I know it has to be you, so please let it be you. Underneath was a small cherry blossom, a symbol of when you first met Hyunjin. 

“Speaking of cherry blossoms… It's time for me to show you your gift.” Taking him to the tall building, Hyunjin was confused, unsure of what you could be referring to.

“Oh my god. Did you buy this building?” He paled slightly, making you laugh.

“Why does everyone think I’m gonna buy a building?!” Shaking your head with a smile, you took him up to the studio, placing the key in his hand. “Happy anniversary, darling.” Hyunjin nervously unlocked the studio, gasping at the sight.

“A new studio? For me? This is your gift? Oh my god.” You flipped the lights on. The mural was fully revealed, nearly bringing your boyfriend to tears. “I…” He rushed to feel the wall, tracing the blossoms. “Cherry blossoms. When we first met…” 

“This isn’t even the best part.” You grinned, relishing in how emotionally touched he was.

“There’s more?!” He nearly shrieked, trying to figure out the tricks you hid up your sleeves.

“Close your eyes.” Hyunjin hesitantly closed his eyes, anxious for the rest of your surprise. You turned off the lights, waiting for the paint to glow again. The low glow of the paint illuminated part of the room. “Open.”

Hyunjin stared, mouth agape at the glowing mural. Tearing up, he sniffled, coming to hug you tightly.“It’s beautiful. I love it so much. I… don’t even have the words to express how much I love this. It’s stunning…” 

“Go grab the bag on the counter.” Hyunjin reluctantly peeled himself off you, sniffling as he grabbed the small bag off the counter. “Go ahead, turn it on.” Reaching inside, he revealed a UV light. He turned it on, waving it around. “No you goofball, point it at the wall.”Slowly but surely, the UV messages you spent writing all over the mural revealed themselves. Your boyfriend was full on sobbing, sitting by the wall, tracing your messages with his finger. Looking back at you with tears streaming down his face, he made grabby hands towards you, making you come over to him, hugging him and laughing. 

“Don’t look at meee…” Hyunjin sniffled, wiping his face with his sweater sleeve as he read your messages aloud. “‘I expect my kisses in two weeks' time.’ ‘If you find this, I may or may not have used up all of your green paint.’” Hyunjin laughed, still crying as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I love you. I love you so much. I thought you bought me a whole entire building… Maybe I should do that. Buy you a building so we can paint every room, every wall, everything. I’m gonna paint the world for you.” Giggling, you wiped his tears, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Gonna paint my endless love for you.”

[yuni-or-zerou]

The Final Pact Introduction

Author Number 1: Yuni or Zerou 

Hi, meh name ish Yuni or Zerou. Here ish a little bit about meh I am 17, Gay nd more Fem than masc. but I do work out cuz u got to stay fit. I love Editing ( I am really good at it) Writing, doing make-up, reading, gaming nd some other stuff. I Stan a lot of K-pop groups but my alt groups are Txt, Skz nd Ateez. Meh, alt bias is Taehyun from txt. My favorite colors are Light Blue, Green, Red, Orange, Black nd Pink. I am always here to help others I love to spread kindness nd love, making friends. Feel free to dm/pm meh personal account if you ever want to. It is one of the people that we are following you will know ish meh meh user lolz. There's more about meh in meh bio there nd I am kinda an indecisive person. There ish a lot more but I don't want to rattle too long nd keep ya from the story nd other stuff love ya Hun <3

Author Number 2: Ari 

(Will add later she is really busy lately)

 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇'𝓈 :

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Han Jisung —— —͙ – -˚ ·* ˚ ✦

Name: Han Jisung

Pronouns: he, himself, they, them, it, and itself

Nicknames: Gay Bitch, Pumpkin, and Angel Boy

Age/Birthday: 17 (almost 18) and September 14th, 2005 (It's not his real year.)

Sexuality: gay but not out of the closet yet

Likes: Bright Green, Queen, KDA, Twice, Rapping, Reading, BLS, and Animals

dislikes: loud noses, small spaces, weird things, and negativity

More info: He is a junior and has bipolar depression, anxiety, and insomnia. He is a very misunderstood boy at school. He calls his parents Mr. and Mrs. Jisung unless he is speaking to them directly. When he says Mom and Dad, he is most likely speaking of Arabella-Izzy's parents, for they treat him as if he were their son and equally as their daughter.

Personality: He is super smart, kind, understanding, cares for others, and tries to help others because he knows how it feels to struggle, considering how bad it was with his real parents. He is loyal, sometimes sassy, very blunt, and confident, unless his bipolar gets in the way. Of course, he is a very loveable, cute, shy, and submissive little boy.

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Lee Minho —— —͙ – -˚ ·* ˚ ✦

Name: Lee Minho

Nicknames: Sparkle Boy, and Luna

Pronouns: He, Him, them, theirs, and themselves

Age/Birthday: 18 and October 25th, 2004 (It's not his real year.)

Sexuality: bisexual but prefers men; he has been out of the closet since he was 13.

Likes: red and black, video games, partying, art, fashion, and trading card games.

Dislikes: rudeness and small spaces

More info: He is really smart but doesn't try hard. Everyone calls him Luna because of how much he admires the moon. A very good video gamer, especially at league, his favorite trading card game is Yu-Gi-Oh. His favorite movie is Beetlejuice, and his favorite show is The Next Prince. Everyone knows this, but he is rich, and we know he is not a snotty one; he is a really kind and charming type of rich boy. Of course he is popular and everyone loves him, but he is not a bad boy at all. There is no breaking him. His motto is "Don't stand stall, but don't break, because breaking gets you nowhere in life."

Personality: He is somewhat smart, loving, caring, very protective, charming, and loveable. He doesn't care what others say behind his back. Everyone's opinion is irrelevant to him unless it is good, understandable, or has an impact on him. The type of guy to spoil you with gifts, tease you, and make you his little pet. He is most definitely super dominant.

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Mizuki Minho—— —͙ – -˚ ·* ˚ ✦

Name: Mizuki Minho

Pronouns: she, her, hers, herself

Age/Birthday: 22 and August 36th, 2000

Sexuality: pansexual and poly

Likes: pink, heels, fashion, hair, reading, dancing, and shopping

Dislikes: being controlled, hateful comments, and being touched.

More info: She is pretty chill and has really bad experience with relationships. People used to bully and abuse each other in middle school and all throughout high school. She has her own makeup company and owns a hair salon. Another thing is that she only accepts the arranged marriage with Han because the Jisung's have everyone convinced they want to help their son become successful.

Personality: She is pretty, calm, energetic, hardworking, trustworthy, dedicated, and carefree. The type of girl to style and design things for you. That one friend who has to check up on everyone and make sure she doesn't need to kill anyone yet

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Arabella -Izzy Hwang —— —͙ – -˚ ·* ˚ ✦

Name: Arabella-Izzy Hwang

Pronouns: she, they, them, it, it's,, their, and itself

Age/Birthday: 17 and June 13th, 2005

Sexuality: Lesbian; she is a stud

Likes: purple and blue, weed, monsters, cherry blossoms

Dislikes: weird things and negativity

More info: It has bipolar disorder, depression, and anxiety. It's also very protective of her family. Han has been like a big brother to them since they were five and six. Definitely, a pothead loves to smoke weed because it helps calm her body down so she can focus more on things. A very strong compassion for becoming a teacher because they love kids.

Personality: It is kind and caring and loves taking care of kids. It is also really good with kids. The kind of person who works hard to achieve her goals and never gives up on them, no matter what challenges she may face on her journey,

𝙎𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧'𝙨

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Mrs. Jisung —— —͙ – -˚ ·* ˚ ✦

Name: Mrs. Jisung

Pronouns: she, her, hers, herself

☁️ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Mr. Jisung —— —͙ – -˚ ·* ˚ ✦

Name: Mr. Jisung

Pronouns: he, him, his, himself

Mrs. Hwang (Mom)—— —͙ – -˚ ·* ˚ ✦

Name: Mom and Mamma

Pronouns: she, her, hers, herself

Mr. Hwang (Dad)—— —͙ – -˚ ·* ˚ ✦

Names: Dad and Father

Pronouns: he, him, his, himself

[stray-kids-react]

Same birthday as them

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° Is the type to reschedule his own birthday so it could just be your day, but you will refuse his kind suggestions because you'd feel awful if you made it look like his birthday was just brushed aside like it's nothing.

° Let's you blow out the candles on the cake, smiling at you like a lovesick puppy which always makes Minho do obnoxious gagging noises as the other members join him and laugh. But Chan gets revenge on them, with frosting attacks.

° Gives the price with the candle in it, and will scoop up dollops of icing onto your piece of cake if you like frosting. And if you aren't a fan of frosting then he will steal the large amounts on your piece and put on his own piece.

° Always.. And I mean ALWAYS. Writes you birthday cards that make you cry, because he uses such kind words and makes you feel very special. Hyunjin will awkwardly pat your head as Felix clings to you like a koala.

"What words do you out in the letters to make her/him cry?" Hyunjin asked.

"Just the truth from my heart."

"Hyung she's/he's crying even harder now." Felix whispered, grabbing napkins.

Lee Know

° It always ends up going the complete opposite way you guys planned on spending your shared birthday. You both planned on going to a hotel to spend a few days away from everyone and everything, and now you were Camping with skz.

° Let's you open your presents first, secretly eager for you to open the one he bought you. And will laugh in the member's faces, bragging about how he always buys the best gifts for you. He says it's because you share one brain.

° Tries to play the birthday boy card with you, saying 'baby since it's my birthday can you get a drink?' and you always remind him that it's your birthday too so you shouldn't have to do favors on your birthday unless you want to.

° Will poke frosting onto your lips before kissing it away, making all of the members react in disgust and cringe. Even though you both know they are happy you two are together, but they are still like family and will tease both of you.

"Get a room." Seungmin whined.

"It's our birthday, every room is our room."

"Felix get the water guns." Changbin ordered, preparing for battle.

Changbin (our birthday boi! ❤️🎂)

° Very clingy, even though it's your birthday as well he will want to be babied as much as he can get. He'll baby you to return the favor, but please just cuddle him all day to make his birthday wishes come to life.

° Takes you out to a restaurant with no members, just the two of you dining together. He will insist on wearing party hats to the very fancy restaurant, getting weird looks from the posh and frugal diners that surround you.

° Even though he is sited earlier on being babied, whenever you suggest that you can help pay for the meal he always denies it and pays fully. And when whine asking why he's spoiling you, he explains that it's your birthday, you deserve it.

° Will rent out a hotel room on the top floor, taking a few selfies with you to post on instagram, captioning a long rant about how he feels so special to have met such a wonderful person who shares his birthday.

"You don't have to pay Binnie, we can go half-"

"I insist, it's your birthday you deserve it."

"But it's your birthday too."

Hyunjin

° He shows you off 10× harder than he usually does, you simply did his hair in the morning cause you wanted to. And she showed it off to all of the members, staff, and fans who were watching the stray kids daily vlogs.

° The members will purposely celebrate you more for the first half of the day, just to annoy Hyunjin. But they always soften up and congratulate him too, making him go back to his usual confident prince aura.

° Wants kisses 24/7, and will become pouty if you deny any of them. Always whining, saying that it's his birthday wish to kiss you. That sentence alone always makes you cave in and kiss his adorable pout away.

° Will read your letters for you while you open the gifts, when it comes time to open his gifts you will return the favor and read the letters. Once he reaches your gift, without even opening it he will say it's his favorite gift out of them all.

"Now for the best gift of the night."

"But you haven't even opened it yet."

"I just know it is the best."

Han

° Wakes you up with a birthday song, forcing his members to sing it with him and dance to it. The only ones who truly get into the song are Chanbin and Felix. You were a bit surprised to see all eight guys surrounding your bed.

° Will set a cute date in the JYP café, sharing your favorite pastry and his favorite pastry with each other. You two hoped to be left alone, but some fans decided to visit the café and give Han this huge cake while ignoring you.

° After Jisung began to notice more fans surrounding the building, he decided to take you back to the dorms where you could finish your pastries and drinks there. Even though it wasn't as 'romantic' it was still nice and calming.

° You both just have a relaxing time together alone, watching you favorite movies and ordering your favorite foods and drinks. Only going to socialize with everyone else when Chan calls for both of you to open the gifts.

"Happy birthday Han oppa, we love you more than anyone else in the world."

"Oh, thank you so much. Umm we actually should get going."

"OMG IS THAT HAN JISUNG OVER THERE?!"

Felix

° You tell Felix every year to not just focus on you, but he truly just can't help himself. Which is why you woke up to a loud clang in the kitchen, to find your boyfriend baking you a birthday cake at 4 in the morning.

° You were about to scold him for trying to spoil you, but he just passes you a spoon with some of the icing and batter on it. You can't stay annoyed with you angel of a boyfriend, especially when you remind yourself that it's his birthday too.

° The reason you tell him to not focus on you, is because if you don't tell him that. He will go overboard, and spoil you more than a Kardashian. Which sometimes makes you feel bad for not spoiling him just as much.

° You both facetime your families together, opening up your presents in front of them and the members. Your mom is crying the whole time because she can't get over how happy you look and how you got with such a nice guy.

"I've never seen my baby look so happy."

"Aww, you are extra smiley around me."

"Can you please just open the gift." Changbin sighs playfully, waiting ten minutes over you two gushing over each other.

Seungmin

° You struggle whenever it comes to buying gifts for Seungmin, just because he is so calm around you and always tells you that he doesn't care what you buy him as long as it's from you. He'll even say he doesn't need gifts.

° He's such a sweet boyfriend so you always want to spoil him, but he always manages to get a more heart wrenching gift than you do. Which is now why you are hunting down different stores with Hyunjin, who hasn't bought him a gift yet.

° You both rush towards the music store, when you bump into Seungmin. He is holding a couple bags full of stuff, and he can't help but smile brightly when he runs into you. Knowing exactly why you two are shopping.

° Hyunjin tries to take a peak at the bags to see if he could get any ideas from them, but Seungmin moves them away as he places a small peck to your nose before leaving the store. Making you lost with questions as to what he got you.

"Seungmin! Hi... W-what are you doing here?"

"Getting your presents ready."

"He's always ahead of the game y/n, I swear."

Jeongin

° You both have a whole birthday week, giving each other small little gifts like candy and chocolates before the big day finally arrives. And that's when the members create this huge party for you two, going all out because they are whipped.

° You and Jeongin will steal some of the balloons and keep them in your room to play around with, playing balloon volleyball with each other when neither of you can get to sleep. He always wins because he slaps the balloon so harshly.

° Will have one last dance alone with you after the party. Both of you in your pajamas in his room as you sway back and forth to a soft slow song. You can hear him humming to song against your shoulder.

° During the party, he made the mistake of pulling you in for feverish kiss. Making Itzy, Twice, Day6, Ateez, TxT, Btob, and Ofcourse Stray Kids all start Hollering. You've never witnessed Jeongin blush so harshly before.

"Get it Jeongin!" Han yelled, making Chan slap his arm.

"They're all staring at us."

"That's because you attempted to French kiss me in the middle of the dance floor."

[hyunnows]

Key;  ☁︎ - angst  ☀︎ - fluff  ☆ - popular  ★ - personal favorites For series; ✎ - ongoing  ✓ - completed Reqs: CLOSED

Positive note | Super Long Prompt List | Taglist | Navigation

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◤ ｏｔ８

When They Weren’t Your Bias | ☀︎ ☆ — established relationship!au, fluffy jealousy

Rap Battle 1.4k+ | ☆ ☀︎ — crack, rap battles, Seungmin's girlfriend!reader, platonic ot8 x reader

Requested // "Seungmin's girlfriend has mad rapping skills."

◤ ｂａｎｇｃｈａｎ

— O N E S H O T S —

I Know .5k+ | ☁︎ ★ ☆ — breakup!au

“So sweet, so caring, and so beautiful. You did nothing wrong... it just happened.”

Christmas EveL | ☀︎ ☁︎ ★ ✎

For the HOI Christmas Event // “You’ve always had a strange affinity for the outlawed holiday known as Christmas. Chris, your boyfriend, never understood your dangerous fascination with it. Now, when you’ve decided to hold a Christmas party that could very likely get you killed, will he and your friends help you? After all, if one thing goes wrong, the government will come for you all…”

— S E R I E S —

coming soon

◤ｌｅｅ ｍｉｎｈｏ ❤︎

— O N E S H O T S —

Shut Up and Dance .7k+ | ☀︎ — slightest angst, platonic relationship, minho’s girlfriend!reader, dancer!reader, friends!skz

Requested // "Your boyfriend is more confident in your dancing skills than you are."

— S E R I E S —

coming soon

◤ ｓｅｏ ｃｈａｎｇｂｉｎ

— O N E S H O T S —

1:36 a.m. .5k+ | ☀︎ — established relationship

"Inspired by Thomas Rhett's Die A Happy Man"

— S E R I E S —

coming soon

◤ ｈｗａｎｇ ｈｙｕｎｊｉｎ ❤︎

— O N E S H O T S —

coming soon

— S E R I E S —

Shattered Puzzles | ☀︎ ☁︎ ☆ ★ ✓— amnesia patient!au, volunteer!reader, doctor!Chan, strangers to friends to lovers, ft Minho x reader, mentions of death, blood, and car accidents 

"A rude and arrogant patient with no identification wakes up from a year long coma and develops temporary amnesia. Assigned to you, a volunteer who’s not going to put up with his attitude, you’re both in for a rough ride." 19.03.21-11.10.23

◤ ｈａｎ ｊｉｓｕｎｇ ❤︎

— O N E S H O T S —

Birthday Wishes 1.4k+ | ☀︎ ★ ☆ — lots of kissing, first kiss!au, best friend!au

requested // “If I kissed you right now, would you punch me? Because I really want to kiss you, but not if you’re going to punch me.“

— S E R I E S —

coming soon

◤ｌｅｅ ｆｅｌｉｘ

— O N E S H O T S —

Sugar Sugar 23.7k+ | ☀︎ ☁︎ ︎★ ☆

— baker!au, exes to lovers, baking competition!au, ft slight Chan x reader

Teaser | Sneak-Peek 

“Teamed with up for the annual Bake-Offs, your ex-boyfriend Felix and you have to work together to win while rediscovering your past love for each other."

Store-Bought Cookies .9k+ | ☀︎ ☆ — established relationship!au

requested // “Baking with your boyfriend doesn’t go your way.”

Mistletoe 1.3k+ | ☀︎ ★ ☆ — kissing, new couple, skz plays matchmakers, oblivious!felix, more oblivious!reader, christmas fic, idiots-to-lovers tbh

Felix has been trying to kiss you all night, only to repeatedly fail and play it off. The boys take notice and decide to help him out.

In The Cards 1.23k+ | ☁︎

— unrequited love, high school au

“… the stars in the sky who decided love was not in the cards for you.”

— S E R I E S —

coming soon

◤ ｋｉｍ ｓｅｕｎｇｍｉｎ

— O N E S H O T S —

Rap Battle 1.4k+ | ☀︎ — crack, rap battles, ft ot8 x reader platonic

Requested // "Seungmin's girlfriend has mad rapping skills."

Stay 2k+ | ☀︎ ☁︎ ★ — mentions of death (of skz members and in general), apocalypse!au, e2l, android+dead world!au

Requested // “You and Seungmin never got along, but after the losses of your friends, you find more than comfort in each other.”

— S E R I E S —

coming soon

◤ ｙａｎｇ ｊｅｏｎｇｉｎ ❤︎

— O N E S H O T S —

Someday .6k | ☀︎ ★ — best friends!au, unrequited love, high-school!au, slight Seungmin x reader

“… while Seungmin may hold your heart in his hands effortlessly now, he’ll cradle it some day, even if he has to earn it.”

A Love So Beautiful 10k+ | ☀︎ ☁︎ ☆ — best friends!au, f2l, unrequited love, high-school!au, extended version of "Someday"

“In which Jeongin watches you chase after Seungmin over and over, waiting for his turn to have your heart.”

— S E R I E S —

coming soon

________________________________________

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DISCLAIMER: These are works of Fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination, coincidence, or used in a fictitious manner. All of my work is completely fictional and does not represent anyone mentioned in any way! I am not trying to say the members have ever or will do these things. It is simply for entertainment. Do not report or reblog!

Copyright © 2020 by Hyunnows

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

[bxngchxn]

strawberries and red wine || l. minho (lee know)

this is a fic that I have re-uploaded from my old blog, @ethereal-bang . I’ll be reuploading all of my old works here and deleting my old blog soon. hope you enjoy!

characters: minho x fem reader

wc: 4.8k

genre: SMUT, dilf!minho, some fluff

warnings: slight hard dom themes, unprotected sex (always wear a condom!), oral (male receiving)

THE FIRST OF THE DILF!SKZ SERIES IS FINALLY HERE!!

This contains mature content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18.

    　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

“No, Mina what did I tell you we do NOT pull people’s hai- wait, BENJAMIN, where did you get that frog from?!? Let it go!!” You scramble around the classroom as you try and control the chaos that is your 4s classroom. Being the lead teacher in a room full of toddlers is nowhere near easy, but you’ve always had an affinity for kids. It started out with babysitting your cousins on the weekends, then volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. Eventually it led to you, taking early education classes in college and graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education. Now, you find yourself here, making sure these kids keep the sand IN the sand box, for the third time this week.

No matter how frustrated you got, though, you could never get genuinely angry. They’re just babies, after all. They have no real concept of right and wrong (or object permanence for that matter), therefore their decision making skills are ~slightly~ off. Plus, they look so cute with their innocent, bright smiles and big eyes. How could you not love them?

The day is just about over, and you’re trying to get everything as clean as possible before the kids leave, that way you don’t have to stay too late to finish it all. It’s Friday, and the thought of going home to your quiet apartment for some much needed me time is all you’re thinking about as you wipe down the snack table. You survey the other children to make sure no one is causing trouble, and you smile as you take in the sight of everyone (finally) sitting in their assigned seats, various hobbies distracting them as they wait for their parents to arrive.

You hear a slight crash, and a teeny tiny voice accompany it.

“Shit!”

That single word, coming from such a small mouth catches you off guard. You want to laugh– but you know better than to encourage it. Shocked expression on your face, you walk over to the table where the two girls are playing Jenga. The tower has been knocked down, and you can only assume that the expletive was said by the loser of the game. A sweet little girl, brown hair almost nearing her waist and big eyes that still held stars in them, was looking up at you in confusion. “Now sweetie, where did you learn that word from?” You ask incredulously.

The way she was looking at you screamed innocence, her smile never faltering. “From my daddy! He said it when he dropped the casserole on the ground the other night. But it’s okay! He ordered us a pizza instead!” She says and you can’t help but giggle, while simultaneously making a note to speak to the girl’s father. Kids tend to overshare way too much, and it reminds you of all the crazy things you’ve heard over the years– those poor parents.

Before you know it, the day has ended and it’s time to walk the children outside. Calling your students to form a line at the door, you double check for backpacks and blankies and stuffed animals. Once everyone (and everything) is settled, you lead the children outside to their parents who are standing with open arms, ready to have their babies back with them for the night. The sight is always so endearing, the little ones getting overly excited and jumping into their parents’ arms.

 As you watch everyone begin to leave, you notice a certain brunette toddler waddling up to her father, who scoops her up into his arms and immediately puts her on his shoulders.

She looks like him, the way that his eyes seem to shine reminiscent of the sparkle you get to see in hers every morning. He’s rocking her back and forth as she’s sat atop him, her giggles ringing out through the daycare’s playground and bringing a sense of calm and happiness to the air. Making your way over to the two of them, your breath catches in your throat when you realize the height difference between the two of you. He’s at least a head taller than you, making you feel small as you get his attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee? Would it be okay if I had a word with you for just a moment?” You ask him quietly.

He looks at you, and you can feel your heartbeat skip when a small smile graces his lips. Taking his daughter off of his shoulders, he ushers her over toward another parent, and the child runs off with Kim Seungmin and his daughter, with promises of ice cream from the truck down the road. “Absolutely, is everything okay Ms….?” He says, realizing (embarrassingly) that he’s never gotten your name. “Y/N! My name is Y/N.” You say with a smile, and he nods, wanting to commit your name to memory.

Minho has seen you day in and day out, greeting the kids in the morning at drop off, and bringing them outside to release to their parents. He’s spoken to you maybe once? Maybe twice? He really wasn’t sure, but something about your soft smile and the way you take care of the children is hitting him differently today. He has a mix of curiosity and slight panic running through his system, afraid his daughter had gotten into big trouble. She’s his whole world, and although raising her on his own definitely isn’t easy, it’s just as equally rewarding. She’s just like him, her personality so big and so funny for someone so little.

“Everything is okay! I just wanted to tell you, your daughter did something today…” you started, and you can see the look in his eyes shift from panic to humor as you explain the situation from earlier today. He chuckles a little once you finish speaking, and you’re laughing too. “Ah, oh my goodness I am so sorry…” he trails off. “It’s alright, Mr. Lee, dont wo-” “Minho,” he cuts you off. “You can call me Minho,” he says, and you nod your head in agreement. “It’s okay, Minho. It actually was pretty funny..just be a little more careful around her, okay?” You giggle, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks blush pink.

After that, talking to Minho when he came to pick up his daughter became a daily occurrence. It was never for long, maybe two or three minutes of conversation at a time, but it was something you looked forward to. He seemed so carefree, always coming in with a smile on his face. Each day his little girl runs to him and demands to be put on his shoulders, and he always obliges.

It would be a lie to say you didn’t form some type of crush on the man in question. You would find yourself hiding your smile after every little interaction, and you weren’t sure how to feel about the fact that you fell for him so easily. It had been a long time since you had decided to focus on your love life, so every time you get those butterflies in your chest you’re unsure of how to react.

Minho, on the other hand, is absolutely smitten. He never took this kind of interest in his daughter’s teachers before. He couldn’t explain it, but the feeling he gets when he witnesses his little girl run up to hug you in the mornings as you head to class fills him with a lighthearted emotion. Plus, the more he spoke to you, the more he came to find out that the two of you are fairly similar. He knew that he needed to take you out on a date. It was the only thing he could think about.

Would it be inappropriate? Absolutely. For as long as you were her teacher, there was no way he’d be able to openly express his feelings. So, he waits. He keeps his feelings at bay for the remainder of the year, waiting for summer to come so he can ask you out on an actual date. And when he does, it’s in the most unexpected way possible.

You see, Minho had a plan. Your birthday was coming up soon, and he was going to get you a small gift and a card with some cheesy pick up line, asking you to do him the honor of going to dinner with him. His daughter, however, has a (very unfiltered) mind of her own.

The summer months were in full swing, the heat and humidity taking over the town as people rode their bikes through the streets, and everyone who drove a car with their windows down, music playing at full volume. It was one of your favorite things about summer, you loved seeing everyone enjoying themselves, alongside the nostalgic feeling of freedom that comes with the warmer weather. This is why you decide one Saturday morning to get up early and head to the Farmer’s Market. The big, open air market held fond memories from your childhood, and going there to shop for your groceries became a stress reliever for you ever since you started college. The older women selling produce were the sweetest, always giving you free samples when you came round.

Today was one of those days, the smells of spices and different street foods filling your noose as you looked at some apples at a produce stand. You pick up what seems like the perfect apple. Round, shiny, no bruises anywhere. That is, until you feel a little someone bump into your legs.

The apple falls to the ground when you’re knocked over, and you hear a small, familiar voice give you an apology. It’s almost a shock when you hear Minho’s voice, too, as you turn around. “Oh my god, miss, I am so…Y/N?” He apologizes, stopping in his tracks when he realizes that it’s you who is standing in front of the two of them. “Oh! Minho, hello! And hi there sweetheart! It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me,” you say in a small voice, dropping down to her level so you can meet her eyes. “But I made you drop your apple! I’m really sorry,” she pouts, and your heart absolutely melts at the sweetness. “It’s okay, I can just get another one! Why don’t you help me pick it out, yeah?” You ask, and her eyes light up with their familiar brightness.

She nods her head furiously and you laugh, picking her up when she raises her arms. You hold her on your hip and lean down just enough for her to grab a new apple to put in your bag. On the sidelines, Minho is trying so hard not to die at the sight in front of him. His daughter looks so happy, and so do you, bonding over the differences between the fruits. He just smiles as he watches in the interaction.

“This one looks perfect! Don’t you agree, sweetie?” You ask the little girl, and she giggles and takes it from your hands. “Yeah! Daddy, look at the apple~~” she says, and Minho’s attention is brought back to the girl in your arms. “Y-yes pumpkin, it looks really perfect! Red apples are a lot sweeter than green apples, they’re your favorite right? Why don’t we get some too?” Minho rambles rather quickly, and it makes you laugh as you watch him clumsily put some apples into a produce bag and hand money to the lady working at the register.

Once you also pay for your apples, Minho invites you to come have lunch with the two of them in the picnic area. You can’t bring yourself to tell them no, so you follow them to an area of grass that is filled with families eating, playing and just enjoying the summer weather. You and Minho help his daughter with her lunch, all the while enjoying the time together, as well. It had been a while since you’d seen each other, because the little girl was no longer in your 4’s class. You spent a few hours with the two of them, and when it was time to go, his little girl scrambles into your lap before you can even make a move to get up.

“I figured something out!” She says, proudly. “Yes, dear, what is it?” Minho asks her, and you crane your head to look over at her. “I think daddy likes you, Miss Y/N,” she blurts out. Your cheeks turn pink, and Minho starts stuttering. “W-what makes you think that, love?” You ask her, and she shrugs her head, completely unbothered by the fact that the two of you look like you’ve been caught, even though nothing has happened.

“Well,” she says, determined. “Daddy talks reaaaallyyyy fast when he talks about me, or soonie doongie and dori, because he likes us a lot. And he does the same thing when he talks to you, or talks about you. I just figured that because he talks fast like that, it must mean he really likes you. Because daddy talks reeeaaally fast about you.” She says, and then goes back to eating a strawberry out of the container that Minho brought with him. The blush on your cheeks turns even darker, and Minho’s face isn’t too far behind, either.

“Aaah, I see. You must be really smart to have figured that out, huh?” You ask her as you laugh, trying to make your nervousness go away. Minho has since taken interest in his hands, not being able to look you in the eye. “Well,” you start, getting the girl’s attention. You lean in close, but still far enough away that Minho can hear, too. “I think that I like your daddy just as much,” You “whisper” in her ear. Her eyes go wide, and Minho’s face shoots up from looking at his hands. “Really?!” The girl squeals, and you just smile and pat her head.

“Really.”

The three of you wander the market for a little while longer, before you notice Minho’s daughter getting sleepy. Once she asks Minho to pick her up, he carries her on his back and she’s out cold within two minutes. He laughs at the snoring toddler, and looks down at the ground before he looks at you. “Did you mean it?” he asks, and you feel your heart explode when you look into his eyes. “About liking me, did you really mean it?” He repeats, and you can’t bring yourself to hide the truth anymore. “Mhm, I did mean it.” You say quietly. His smile brightens ten fold, and if he wasn’t hauling a sleeping child on his back, he would’ve taken your hand. “Well in that case, would it be out of pocket to ask you over for dinner this weekend? She’s going to a slumber party at Seungmin’s house, so we can have an actual conversation,” he asks sheepishly.

“I would love that.”

__________

The rest of the week flies by, and you can feel the nerves gathering in your stomach as you arrive at Minho’s house. Walking inside, it’s exactly how you could imagine it to be. It’s cozy, and you can definitely tell that a toddler lives there. Toys are in the living room corner, stacked neatly next to a two story dollhouse. Sippy cups align the kitchen sink, and you see cat shaped sandwich cutters sitting in the dish drainer. The sight makes you smile, as you remember cooing over the cute shapes at lunch time.

Minho looks absolutely stunning, you think to yourself. He’s dressed casually, but his button down shirt makes his shoulders look broad and the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows makes your knees feel weak. He greets you with a warm smile and a small hug, leading you into the kitchen. He really pulled out all the stops for this– candles at the center of the dining table, two glasses with red wine sitting next to empty plates as he brings the food to the table. “Wow, this looks amazing,” you tell him as you take a seat across from him, sipping your wine. “Thank you, I really hope you like it,” he laughs.

Dinner goes well, just as you expected it to. The two of you never run out of things to talk about, and the wine is definitely helping the two of you loosen up a little bit. Once dinner is over, you insist that you help with the dishes. Minho tries to decline, but you bump him out of the way with your hip, picking up a towel to dry the clean dishes with. He laughs and mimics the action, except his arm wraps around your waist in an attempt to catch you if you fall over. You feel electricity shoot through you at the action, and you turn to face him as you laugh.

He doesn’t let go, and the look in his eyes has you dropping your towel onto the kitchen counter. The air in the room feels charged, and you can’t help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. Everything just felt natural, with him. Like you were supposed to be this way all along. His other hand drops the dish he was holding into the sink, and he decides to wrap it around your waist instead. The feeling of finally being encapsulated in his arms makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

The two of you stay like that, for just a moment longer. It’s Minho who breaks the silence first, tightening his hold on you. “Is it..is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks softly. The action is so sweet, you smile as you pull him closer to you. “Please,” you ask, right before his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is soft, slow, everything you could have wanted. His lips still taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and it makes you want to deepen the kiss. So you do.

Minho feels your tongue at his lips, and he immediately grants you entrance but quickly gains dominance over you. A hand of his moves from your waist up into your hair as he pushes you into the kitchen counter. Your hands roam his body, his broad shoulders and toned arms feeling like heaven under your fingertips. When your hands find his hair, you tug on it slightly and that’s enough to prompt Minho to lift you onto the counter. He’s standing between your legs, his hands falling to your hips once again. He traces light circles into the skin under your sweater as you start trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” you say breathily, and it makes Minho chuckle. “You really want this?” He asks, confirming that it’s okay for him to take it further. “I want all of it.” You say while looking him in the eyes. They darken, and you can tell that you’ve just awoken something inside the man. His hands bunch under your shirt, slowly lifting it up to reveal the royal purple bra that you were wearing. Thanking god that you chose a matching set, you take the initiative to take your sweater off the rest of the way, throwing it on a chair near the table.

Minho wastes no time attacking your neck, biting marks near your collarbone and trailing them down towards your breast. He takes one in his hands, feeling the fabric underneath his hands and relishing in the quiet noises you’re making. His fingers ghost over your nipples, the texture of the fabric bringing you an added sensation. You subconsciously move your hips against his, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. Minho sighs, and the sound is music to your ears. You continue to move your hips against his, and Minho quickly grabs the back of your legs. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” he teases, telling you to hold on as he picks you up and takes you in the direction of his bedroom. His lips never leave your neck, at least not until he has you lying comfortably on top of the pillows on his bead. The look in his eyes is almost primal, and it mirrors every feeling that is running through your body in the moment.

You sit up quickly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as you kiss each inch of exposed skin. Minho helps you as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, and you take in the sight of the gorgeous man sitting in front of you. You look down to his jeans and then back into his eyes, as if asking for permission. He grabs your hand and guides it to his belt, and that’s a sure fire sign that you can continue.

You expertly undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down with your teeth in a teasing way. “Fuck, baby,” he says at the sight, and his little praise just spurs you on. You move him to sit on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees in front of him as you pull down his jeans. His cock is something to behold– the perfect size, pink and standing at attention. Tempting. You grab the base in your hand, and bring your tongue out to lick at the head. Minho melts into your touch, his fingers going to your hair instantly. You begin slowly, sucking on the head and using your hand to stroke the rest of his cock. It’s taking every ounce of self control from Minho to not fuck into your mouth, wanting to savor the first of hopefully many encounters with you.

You look so gorgeous on your knees for him, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you begin to sink lower onto his cock. He can feel your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein and making sure to swirl your tongue at his head with each pass you make. If you keep this up, he’s going to cum fast.

“As much as I enjoy the feeling of your pretty little mouth, baby, I don’t want to cum inside it this time.” He says, pulling you back up onto the bed. You feel excitement rise in your chest at the idea of a “next time”. You giggle as he hovers over you, pulling you into another kiss. He can taste you on his tongue, and there’s something so inherently dirty about it that makes him impatient.

He starts working on your jeans, undoing the buttons with ease and sliding them down your legs. He stares at the matching purple underwear that you’re in, and he chuckles darkly. “Seems like someone had something certain on their mind when getting dressed today, huh love?” He teases, tracing slow circles over your clit in a teasing way. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” you say as you try to keep your noises to a minimum. He’s going at a pace that is way too slow for your liking, but you’re not ready to beg for it. At least not yet.

“Hm? Feigning innocence now are we? That’s not very nice of you, baby. Tell me, what were you thinking when you put this on today, hm? Were you thinking that I’d take you like a good girl tonight?” He asks. His eyes never leave yours, and you try your hardest to keep your voice level. “Maybe,” you tease, and his pace quickens for just a moment, just enough to have you keening, but then he returns to the torturously slow pace. “Trying to be a brat, are we? Don’t worry, I can have that attitude fixed in no time,” he warns. You want to test him, see how far he’ll go. “Really? I don’t see you doing anything about it,” you fight back.

Bad idea.

Before you can even blink, your underwear are ripped off and thrown across the room, and Minho’s hand is now around your throat. The sweet feeling of the air leaving your lungs has you dizzy, not able to form coherent words. “Oh? Where’s that mouth of yours now huh?” He says, his tone condescending. His fingers return to your core, but this time his pace is rough and fast. You try to move, but the grip on your neck is tight. “Tell me what you want, love. Use your words,” he says. He decides to loosen his grip to let you speak.

“Please, Minho God just-just fuck me,” you finally speak out, voice shaky as your high is quickly approaching you. “That’s all the permission I need, baby doll.” He laughs as he pulls you closer to him. Reaching down, Minho grabs his cock in his hands and runs the head up and down your labia, teasing you before giving you the real thing. “You’re so wet, this is all for me right? I’m the only one who makes you feel like this?” He asks, knowing that you’re slowly losing your cool.

“Yes! Yes it’s only fo- only for you, Minho please” you beg, and it quickly turns into a moan as he enters you. Your back arches, and a low groan comes from Minho’s throat as he feels how tight you are around him. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, but once you rock your hips into him even a little, he sets off at a steady pace. The feeling is euphoric, he’s stretching you in just the right places and somehow knows exactly how to make you see stars.

He’s panting, and when you whine a quiet “Harder, please,” he loses all control. Slamming into you quickly, he brings his hand back to your throat. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Jesus. Only for me,” he says over and over again. He’s leaned close to you now, mouth against your ear and you can hear every ounce of praise that comes from his mouth. Your high is approaching, and you clench around Minho when he starts drawing fast circles on your clit once again.

“Minho I- I’m so close, please make me cum,” you moan, and with a certain swivel of his hips he’s hitting a spot that’s making you see stars. “Cum for me then, baby. Let me feel you,” he says, quickening his pace once again, so fast you didn’t think it was possible.

The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and your labored breathing, moans loud as you finally feel the knot in your core tighten and then burst. His name leaves your lips in a long, drawn out whine, and you feel him fill you up not long after your orgasm starts wearing off. He’s panting in your ear, grip tightening around your throat once again as you feel him spill into you.

Riding out both of your highs, Minho’s thrusts slowly come to a stop. The two of you lay there, basking in the glow of the events that just unfolded. You stay like that for a few minutes, and then Minho gets up to run the shower, placing a kiss on your forehead as he leaves the bedroom.

You end up going for another round in the shower, and then straight to bed as the two of you are too worn out to do anything else.

You wake up the next morning in one of his tshirts, and you can smell pancakes being made in the kitchen. You look over and realize that Minho is no longer next to you, and you smile as you hear the radio playing and a sweet voice singing along.

Aware that his daughter could be coming home at any minute, you throw your own jeans on as you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s shirt still falling off your shoulder. Quietly padding behind him, he jumps as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Good morning,” you giggle, and he quickly turns to place a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning to you too, doll.” He says. The name brings back memories of last night and you feel a blush on your cheeks.

You help him finish making pancakes, and when the front door opens, you hear little feet making their way to the kitchen, followed by the sound of Seungmin’s voice. “Hey, Minho I figured I’d stop in and say hi since I’m dropping off your- oh. Hello.” Seungmin says as he sees you at the counter with said man. “Hi,” you say quietly, giggling at his expression.

 “Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” you hear from behind him. You lean over and see Minho’s daughter coming at you full force. You quickly scoop her up into your arms, spinning her around as her bright laugh fills the room. It makes Minho’s heart explode, and he immediately feels embarrassed as he looks over at Seungmin. “I’m not judging, good for you bro.” The younger man says, sticking out his fist for Minho to bump. He laughs, but does it anyway, his attention turning back to your and his daughter.

“Are you here to have breakfast with us?!?! Daddy makes the best pancakes!!” The girl exclaims, and you laugh as you look over to Minho, sharing a secret glance.

“I sure am, sweetheart.”  

   ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧ ✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

@dom--minnie @sparklemin @minholuvs @hanflix @moonlit-lixie @feliix

[ethereal-bang]

Strawberries and Red Wine

Characters: Minho x fem reader

Words: 4.8k 

Type: SMUT, dilf!minho, some fluff

Warnings: slight hard dom themes, unprotected sex (always wear a condom!), oral (male receiving) 

THE FIRST OF THE DILF!SKZ SERIES IS FINALLY HERE!! 

This contains mature content and is not suitable for anyone under the age of 18. 

“No, Mina what did I tell you we do NOT pull people’s hai- wait, BENJAMIN, where did you get that frog from?!? Let it go!!” You scramble around the classroom as you try and control the chaos that is your 4s classroom. Being the lead teacher in a room full of toddlers is nowhere near easy, but you’ve always had an affinity for kids. It started out with babysitting your cousins on the weekends, then volunteering as a counselor at summer camp. Eventually it led to you, taking early education classes in college and graduating with a degree in Early Childhood Education. Now, you find yourself here, making sure these kids keep the sand IN the sand box, for the third time this week. 

No matter how frustrated you got, though, you could never get genuinely angry. They’re just babies, after all. They have no real concept of right and wrong (or object permanence for that matter), therefore their decision making skills are ~slightly~ off. Plus, they look so cute with their innocent, bright smiles and big eyes. How could you not love them?

The day is just about over, and you’re trying to get everything as clean as possible before the kids leave, that way you don’t have to stay too late to finish it all. It’s Friday, and the thought of going home to your quiet apartment for some much needed me time is all you’re thinking about as you wipe down the snack table. You survey the other children to make sure no one is causing trouble, and you smile as you take in the sight of everyone (finally) sitting in their assigned seats, various hobbies distracting them as they wait for their parents to arrive.

You hear a slight crash, and a teeny tiny voice accompany it. 

“Shit!”

That single word, coming from such a small mouth catches you off guard. You want to laugh-- but you know better than to encourage it. Shocked expression on your face, you walk over to the table where the two girls are playing Jenga. The tower has been knocked down, and you can only assume that the expletive was said by the loser of the game. A sweet little girl, brown hair almost nearing her waist and big eyes that still held stars in them, was looking up at you in confusion. “Now sweetie, where did you learn that word from?” You ask incredulously. 

The way she was looking at you screamed innocence, her smile never faltering. “From my daddy! He said it when he dropped the casserole on the ground the other night. But it’s okay! He ordered us a pizza instead!” She says and you can’t help but giggle, while simultaneously making a note to speak to the girl’s father. Kids tend to overshare way too much, and it reminds you of all the crazy things you’ve heard over the years-- those poor parents. 

Before you know it, the day has ended and it’s time to walk the children outside. Calling your students to form a line at the door, you double check for backpacks and blankies and stuffed animals. Once everyone (and everything) is settled, you lead the children outside to their parents who are standing with open arms, ready to have their babies back with them for the night. The sight is always so endearing, the little ones getting overly excited and jumping into their parents’ arms. As you watch everyone begin to leave, you notice a certain brunette toddler waddling up to her father, who scoops her up into his arms and immediately puts her on his shoulders.

She looks like him, the way that his eyes seem to shine reminiscent of the sparkle you get to see in hers every morning. He’s rocking her back and forth as she’s sat atop him, her giggles ringing out through the daycare’s playground and bringing a sense of calm and happiness to the air. Making your way over to the two of them, your breath catches in your throat when you realize the height difference between the two of you. He’s at least a head taller than you, making you feel small as you get his attention. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee? Would it be okay if I had a word with you for just a moment?” You ask him quietly. 

He looks at you, and you can feel your heartbeat skip when a small smile graces his lips. Taking his daughter off of his shoulders, he ushers her over toward another parent, and the child runs off with Kim Seungmin and his daughter, with promises of ice cream from the truck down the road. “Absolutely, is everything okay Ms….?” He says, realizing (embarrassingly) that he’s never gotten your name. “Y/N! My name is Y/N.” You say with a smile, and he nods, wanting to commit your name to memory.

Minho has seen you day in and day out, greeting the kids in the morning at drop off, and bringing them outside to release to their parents. He’s spoken to you maybe once? Maybe twice? He really wasn’t sure, but something about your soft smile and the way you take care of the children is hitting him differently today. He has a mix of curiosity and slight panic running through his system, afraid his daughter had gotten into big trouble. She’s his whole world, and although raising her on his own definitely isn’t easy, it’s just as equally rewarding. She’s just like him, her personality so big and so funny for someone so little. 

“Everything is okay! I just wanted to tell you, your daughter did something today...” you started, and you can see the look in his eyes shift from panic to humor as you explain the situation from earlier today. He chuckles a little once you finish speaking, and you’re laughing too. “Ah, oh my goodness I am so sorry…” he trails off. “It’s alright, Mr. Lee, dont wo-” “Minho,” he cuts you off. “You can call me Minho,” he says, and you nod your head in agreement. “It’s okay, Minho. It actually was pretty funny..just be a little more careful around her, okay?” You giggle, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks blush pink.

After that, talking to Minho when he came to pick up his daughter became a daily occurrence. It was never for long, maybe two or three minutes of conversation at a time, but it was something you looked forward to. He seemed so carefree, always coming in with a smile on his face. Each day his little girl runs to him and demands to be put on his shoulders, and he always obliges. 

It would be a lie to say you didn’t form some type of crush on the man in question. You would find yourself hiding your smile after every little interaction, and you weren’t sure how to feel about the fact that you fell for him so easily. It had been a long time since you had decided to focus on your love life, so every time you get those butterflies in your chest you’re unsure of how to react. 

Minho, on the other hand, is absolutely smitten. He never took this kind of interest in his daughter’s teachers before. He couldn’t explain it, but the feeling he gets when he witnesses his little girl run up to hug you in the mornings as you head to class fills him with a lighthearted emotion. Plus, the more he spoke to you, the more he came to find out that the two of you are fairly similar. He knew that he needed to take you out on a date. It was the only thing he could think about.

Would it be inappropriate? Absolutely. For as long as you were her teacher, there was no way he’d be able to openly express his feelings. So, he waits. He keeps his feelings at bay for the remainder of the year, waiting for summer to come so he can ask you out on an actual date. And when he does, it’s in the most unexpected way possible.

You see, Minho had a plan. Your birthday was coming up soon, and he was going to get you a small gift and a card with some cheesy pick up line, asking you to do him the honor of going to dinner with him. His daughter, however, has a (very unfiltered) mind of her own.

The summer months were in full swing, the heat and humidity taking over the town as people rode their bikes through the streets, and everyone who drove a car with their windows down, music playing at full volume. It was one of your favorite things about summer, you loved seeing everyone enjoying themselves, alongside the nostalgic feeling of freedom that comes with the warmer weather. This is why you decide one Saturday morning to get up early and head to the Farmer’s Market. The big, open air market held fond memories from your childhood, and going there to shop for your groceries became a stress reliever for you ever since you started college. The older women selling produce were the sweetest, always giving you free samples when you came round. 

Today was one of those days, the smells of spices and different street foods filling your noose as you looked at some apples at a produce stand. You pick up what seems like the perfect apple. Round, shiny, no bruises anywhere. That is, until you feel a little someone bump into your legs. 

The apple falls to the ground when you’re knocked over, and you hear a small, familiar voice give you an apology. It’s almost a shock when you hear Minho’s voice, too, as you turn around. “Oh my god, miss, I am so...Y/N?” He apologizes, stopping in his tracks when he realizes that it’s you who is standing in front of the two of them. “Oh! Minho, hello! And hi there sweetheart! It’s alright, you didn’t hurt me,” you say in a small voice, dropping down to her level so you can meet her eyes. “But I made you drop your apple! I’m really sorry,” she pouts, and your heart absolutely melts at the sweetness. “It’s okay, I can just get another one! Why don’t you help me pick it out, yeah?” You ask, and her eyes light up with their familiar brightness. 

She nods her head furiously and you laugh, picking her up when she raises her arms. You hold her on your hip and lean down just enough for her to grab a new apple to put in your bag. On the sidelines, Minho is trying so hard not to die at the sight in front of him. His daughter looks so happy, and so do you, bonding over the differences between the fruits. He just smiles as he watches in the interaction.

“This one looks perfect! Don’t you agree, sweetie?” You ask the little girl, and she giggles and takes it from your hands. “Yeah! Daddy, look at the apple~~” she says, and Minho’s attention is brought back to the girl in your arms. “Y-yes pumpkin, it looks really perfect! Red apples are a lot sweeter than green apples, they’re your favorite right? Why don’t we get some too?” Minho rambles rather quickly, and it makes you laugh as you watch him clumsily put some apples into a produce bag and hand money to the lady working at the register. 

Once you also pay for your apples, Minho invites you to come have lunch with the two of them in the picnic area. You can’t bring yourself to tell them no, so you follow them to an area of grass that is filled with families eating, playing and just enjoying the summer weather. You and Minho help his daughter with her lunch, all the while enjoying the time together, as well. It had been a while since you’d seen each other, because the little girl was no longer in your 4’s class. You spent a few hours with the two of them, and when it was time to go, his little girl scrambles into your lap before you can even make a move to get up.

“I figured something out!” She says, proudly. “Yes, dear, what is it?” Minho asks her, and you crane your head to look over at her. “I think daddy likes you, Miss Y/N,” she blurts out. Your cheeks turn pink, and Minho starts stuttering. “W-what makes you think that, love?” You ask her, and she shrugs her head, completely unbothered by the fact that the two of you look like you’ve been caught, even though nothing has happened.

“Well,” she says, determined. “Daddy talks reaaaallyyyy fast when he talks about me, or soonie doongie and dori, because he likes us a lot. And he does the same thing when he talks to you, or talks about you. I just figured that because he talks fast like that, it must mean he really likes you. Because daddy talks reeeaaally fast about you.” She says, and then goes back to eating a strawberry out of the container that Minho brought with him. The blush on your cheeks turns even darker, and Minho’s face isn’t too far behind, either. 

“Aaah, I see. You must be really smart to have figured that out, huh?” You ask her as you laugh, trying to make your nervousness go away. Minho has since taken interest in his hands, not being able to look you in the eye. “Well,” you start, getting the girl’s attention. You lean in close, but still far enough away that Minho can hear, too. “I think that I like your daddy just as much,” You “whisper” in her ear. Her eyes go wide, and Minho’s face shoots up from looking at his hands. “Really?!” The girl squeals, and you just smile and pat her head. 

“Really.”

The three of you wander the market for a little while longer, before you notice Minho’s daughter getting sleepy. Once she asks Minho to pick her up, he carries her on his back and she’s out cold within two minutes. He laughs at the snoring toddler, and looks down at the ground before he looks at you. “Did you mean it?” he asks, and you feel your heart explode when you look into his eyes. “About liking me, did you really mean it?” He repeats, and you can’t bring yourself to hide the truth anymore. “Mhm, I did mean it.” You say quietly. His smile brightens ten fold, and if he wasn’t hauling a sleeping child on his back, he would’ve taken your hand. “Well in that case, would it be out of pocket to ask you over for dinner this weekend? She’s going to a slumber party at Seungmin’s house, so we can have an actual conversation,” he asks sheepishly.

“I would love that.”

__________

The rest of the week flies by, and you can feel the nerves gathering in your stomach as you arrive at Minho’s house. Walking inside, it’s exactly how you could imagine it to be. It’s cozy, and you can definitely tell that a toddler lives there. Toys are in the living room corner, stacked neatly next to a two story dollhouse. Sippy cups align the kitchen sink, and you see cat shaped sandwich cutters sitting in the dish drainer. The sight makes you smile, as you remember cooing over the cute shapes at lunch time. 

Minho looks absolutely stunning, you think to yourself. He’s dressed casually, but his button down shirt makes his shoulders look broad and the way his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows makes your knees feel weak. He greets you with a warm smile and a small hug, leading you into the kitchen. He really pulled out all the stops for this-- candles at the center of the dining table, two glasses with red wine sitting next to empty plates as he brings the food to the table. “Wow, this looks amazing,” you tell him as you take a seat across from him, sipping your wine. “Thank you, I really hope you like it,” he laughs.

Dinner goes well, just as you expected it to. The two of you never run out of things to talk about, and the wine is definitely helping the two of you loosen up a little bit. Once dinner is over, you insist that you help with the dishes. Minho tries to decline, but you bump him out of the way with your hip, picking up a towel to dry the clean dishes with. He laughs and mimics the action, except his arm wraps around your waist in an attempt to catch you if you fall over. You feel electricity shoot through you at the action, and you turn to face him as you laugh.

He doesn’t let go, and the look in his eyes has you dropping your towel onto the kitchen counter. The air in the room feels charged, and you can’t help but reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. Everything just felt natural, with him. Like you were supposed to be this way all along. His other hand drops the dish he was holding into the sink, and he decides to wrap it around your waist instead. The feeling of finally being encapsulated in his arms makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

The two of you stay like that, for just a moment longer. It's Minho who breaks the silence first, tightening his hold on you. “Is it..is it okay if I kiss you?” he asks softly. The action is so sweet, you smile as you pull him closer to you. “Please,” you ask, right before his lips crash onto yours. The kiss is soft, slow, everything you could have wanted. His lips still taste like the wine you’ve been drinking, and it makes you want to deepen the kiss. So you do. 

Minho feels your tongue at his lips, and he immediately grants you entrance but quickly gains dominance over you. A hand of his moves from your waist up into your hair as he pushes you into the kitchen counter. Your hands roam his body, his broad shoulders and toned arms feeling like heaven under your fingertips. When your hands find his hair, you tug on it slightly and that’s enough to prompt Minho to lift you onto the counter. He’s standing between your legs, his hands falling to your hips once again. He traces light circles into the skin under your sweater as you start trailing kisses down his neck.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” you say breathily, and it makes Minho chuckle. “You really want this?” He asks, confirming that it’s okay for him to take it further. “I want all of it.” You say while looking him in the eyes. They darken, and you can tell that you’ve just awoken something inside the man. His hands bunch under your shirt, slowly lifting it up to reveal the royal purple bra that you were wearing. Thanking god that you chose a matching set, you take the initiative to take your sweater off the rest of the way, throwing it on a chair near the table. 

Minho wastes no time attacking your neck, biting marks near your collarbone and trailing them down towards your breast. He takes one in his hands, feeling the fabric underneath his hands and relishing in the quiet noises you’re making. His fingers ghost over your nipples, the texture of the fabric bringing you an added sensation. You subconsciously move your hips against his, feeling how hard he is through his jeans. Minho sighs, and the sound is music to your ears. You continue to move your hips against his, and Minho quickly grabs the back of your legs. “Someone’s eager, aren’t they?” he teases, telling you to hold on as he picks you up and takes you in the direction of his bedroom. His lips never leave your neck, at least not until he has you lying comfortably on top of the pillows on his bead. The look in his eyes is almost primal, and it mirrors every feeling that is running through your body in the moment.

You sit up quickly, unbuttoning his shirt slowly as you kiss each inch of exposed skin. Minho helps you as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, and you take in the sight of the gorgeous man sitting in front of you. You look down to his jeans and then back into his eyes, as if asking for permission. He grabs your hand and guides it to his belt, and that’s a sure fire sign that you can continue.

You expertly undo his jeans, pulling the zipper down with your teeth in a teasing way. “Fuck, baby,” he says at the sight, and his little praise just spurs you on. You move him to sit on the edge of the bed, and you sink to your knees in front of him as you pull down his jeans. His cock is something to behold-- the perfect size, pink and standing at attention. Tempting. You grab the base in your hand, and bring your tongue out to lick at the head. Minho melts into your touch, his fingers going to your hair instantly. You begin slowly, sucking on the head and using your hand to stroke the rest of his cock. It’s taking every ounce of self control from Minho to not fuck into your mouth, wanting to savor the first of hopefully many encounters with you.

You look so gorgeous on your knees for him, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you begin to sink lower onto his cock. He can feel your tongue on the underside of his dick, tracing the vein and making sure to swirl your tongue at his head with each pass you make. If you keep this up, he’s going to cum fast. 

“As much as I enjoy the feeling of your pretty little mouth, baby, I don’t want to cum inside it this time.” He says, pulling you back up onto the bed. You feel excitement rise in your chest at the idea of a “next time”. You giggle as he hovers over you, pulling you into another kiss. He can taste you on his tongue, and there’s something so inherently dirty about it that makes him impatient. 

He starts working on your jeans, undoing the buttons with ease and sliding them down your legs. He stares at the matching purple underwear that you’re in, and he chuckles darkly. “Seems like someone had something certain on their mind when getting dressed today, huh love?” He teases, tracing slow circles over your clit in a teasing way. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” you say as you try to keep your noises to a minimum. He’s going at a pace that is way too slow for your liking, but you’re not ready to beg for it. At least not yet.

“Hm? Feigning innocence now are we? That’s not very nice of you, baby. Tell me, what were you thinking when you put this on today, hm? Were you thinking that I’d take you like a good girl tonight?” He asks. His eyes never leave yours, and you try your hardest to keep your voice level. “Maybe,” you tease, and his pace quickens for just a moment, just enough to have you keening, but then he returns to the torturously slow pace. “Trying to be a brat, are we? Don’t worry, I can have that attitude fixed in no time,” he warns. You want to test him, see how far he’ll go. “Really? I don’t see you doing anything about it,” you fight back.

Bad idea.

Before you can even blink, your underwear are ripped off and thrown across the room, and Minho’s hand is now around your throat. The sweet feeling of the air leaving your lungs has you dizzy, not able to form coherent words. “Oh? Where’s that mouth of yours now huh?” He says, his tone condescending. His fingers return to your core, but this time his pace is rough and fast. You try to move, but the grip on your neck is tight. “Tell me what you want, love. Use your words,” he says. He decides to loosen his grip to let you speak.

“Please, Minho God just-just fuck me,” you finally speak out, voice shaky as your high is quickly approaching you. “That’s all the permission I need, baby doll.” He laughs as he pulls you closer to him. Reaching down, Minho grabs his cock in his hands and runs the head up and down your labia, teasing you before giving you the real thing. “You’re so wet, this is all for me right? I’m the only one who makes you feel like this?” He asks, knowing that you’re slowly losing your cool.

“Yes! Yes it’s only fo- only for you, Minho please” you beg, and it quickly turns into a moan as he enters you. Your back arches, and a low groan comes from Minho’s throat as he feels how tight you are around him. He stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, but once you rock your hips into him even a little, he sets off at a steady pace. The feeling is euphoric, he’s stretching you in just the right places and somehow knows exactly how to make you see stars.

He’s panting, and when you whine a quiet “Harder, please,” he loses all control. Slamming into you quickly, he brings his hand back to your throat. “You’re so perfect for me, baby. Jesus. Only for me,” he says over and over again. He’s leaned close to you now, mouth against your ear and you can hear every ounce of praise that comes from his mouth. Your high is approaching, and you clench around Minho when he starts drawing fast circles on your clit once again. 

“Minho I- I’m so close, please make me cum,” you moan, and with a certain swivel of his hips he’s hitting a spot that’s making you see stars. “Cum for me then, baby. Let me feel you,” he says, quickening his pace once again, so fast you didn’t think it was possible.

The only sounds in the room are skin slapping and your labored breathing, moans loud as you finally feel the knot in your core tighten and then burst. His name leaves your lips in a long, drawn out whine, and you feel him fill you up not long after your orgasm starts wearing off. He’s panting in your ear, grip tightening around your throat once again as you feel him spill into you. 

Riding out both of your highs, Minho’s thrusts slowly come to a stop. The two of you lay there, basking in the glow of the events that just unfolded. You stay like that for a few minutes, and then Minho gets up to run the shower, placing a kiss on your forehead as he leaves the bedroom.

You end up going for another round in the shower, and then straight to bed as the two of you are too worn out to do anything else.

You wake up the next morning in one of his tshirts, and you can smell pancakes being made in the kitchen. You look over and realize that Minho is no longer next to you, and you smile as you hear the radio playing and a sweet voice singing along. 

Aware that his daughter could be coming home at any minute, you throw your own jeans on as you walk into the kitchen, Minho’s shirt still falling off your shoulder. Quietly padding behind him, he jumps as you wrap your arms around his waist. “Good morning,” you giggle, and he quickly turns to place a kiss on your cheek. “Good morning to you too, doll.” He says. The name brings back memories of last night and you feel a blush on your cheeks. 

You help him finish making pancakes, and when the front door opens, you hear little feet making their way to the kitchen, followed by the sound of Seungmin’s voice. “Hey, Minho I figured I’d stop in and say hi since I’m dropping off your- oh. Hello.” Seungmin says as he sees you at the counter with said man. “Hi,” you say quietly, giggling at his expression. “Y/N!!!!!!!!!!” you hear from behind him. You lean over and see Minho’s daughter coming at you full force. You quickly scoop her up into your arms, spinning her around as her bright laugh fills the room. It makes Minho’s heart explode, and he immediately feels embarrassed as he looks over at Seungmin. “I’m not judging, good for you bro.” The younger man says, sticking out his fist for Minho to bump. He laughs, but does it anyway, his attention turning back to your and his daughter.

“Are you here to have breakfast with us?!?! Daddy makes the best pancakes!!” The girl exclaims, and you laugh as you look over to Minho, sharing a secret glance.

“I sure am, sweetheart.”  

________________________________________________________________

Masterlist

[kpophours]

Haven

➵ Stray Kids: Jisung x fem. reader / one shot, college AU, frenemies to lovers AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight cursing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, a teeny tiny bit sexual suggestiveness (nothing explicit)

➵ word count: 6k

It’s not even 8am, and your eyes feel as dry as sandpaper while your head is pounding with a slight migraine. You’re currently getting everything ready for the crowd of caffeine addicts that will soon arrive at the café you work at. It’s way too early to deal with the horde of zombies called students, but you got stuck with the worst shift of the day - starting at 7.30am which, in your opinion, is just inhuman. Stupid Minho and his stupid luck whenever it comes to drawing straws. For some reason, you always end up getting the shortest one. At least you’ll be done with work before most people your age have even made it out of bed. Still, right now you’d give almost everything to be back in your blanket burrito. Earning money is hard and annoying. If you’ve ever wondered if working at a café could ruin the beauty of coffee… the answer is yes. Because capitalism destroys everything, leaving no survivors.  

“Good morning, Y/N!”, your co-worker and the other unlucky one having drawn one of the shorter straws chirps when she enters the café, and you grimace - Sana’s voice is way too cheerful so early in the morning. You only give her a curt nod of your head, not in the mood to talk right now. You’re not really in the mood to do anything, if you’re being honest. Ugh, you hate the morning shift. You’re currently 80% tired, but 20% also tired - you don’t even remember what it’s like to not be tired anymore. College is great! 

Sana doesn’t seem to mind your grumpiness though, being the sweetheart that she simply is, and begins to wipe the counter while humming a cheery song under her breath. It’s only her second week at work, but so far she’s proven to be a better and more reliable part-timer than the last three who had worked here. Jun is usually a nice and caring boss, but he has some strict rules - always be on time, no drinking coffee while you’re working, don’t take more breaks than necessary, and don’t give out free drinks to your friends. The last three part-timers had broken at least one of these rules, so Jun had let them go again. Sana is doing well so far, and you think that Jun has maybe even taken a liking to her - not that you can blame him, she’s not only super nice and a general sunshine, but also incredibly beautiful and funny. You’re always happy whenever you work a shift with her. She’s a student like yourself, and wants to become a kindergarten teacher. You’d never let your children near her though, too scared they’d like her more than you - not that you could actually blame them. “Shall I put on some music?”, Sana asks after she’s finished with wiping everything down, and you just nod, finally being done with prepping the giant coffee machines. Just seconds later, smooth lounge music fills the cozy space of the café, and you inhale deeply. 

Maybe you lied earlier. Capitalism did not destroy coffee for you, you still very much love the scent, taste, and especially the effect of it. You check the time, noticing you still have about 15 minutes left before you have to open the café - meaning you have more than enough time to enjoy a nice cup of coffee with Sana. She immediately agrees to drink a cappuccino with you, and just minutes later, you bask in the fresh scent of grounded coffee beans. Sana sighs deeply after having taken the first sip, and gives you a bright smile. “Heavenly. You truly make the best coffee out of all of us, Y/N!”, she compliments you, and you tilt your head to one side. Thanks to the caffeine in your system, you’re finally ready to talk to her now. “Well, if my academic brilliance proves futile, I can always become the best barista in the world, I guess. And by the way, don’t let Minho hear you say that, or he’ll force you to taste all the coffee he makes, resulting in you overdosing on caffeine. You know what he‘s like.”, you answer, and Sana giggles. “Well, I stand with what I said, and I’ll even say it to his face. He needs to learn that he can’t always be the best at everything.” You raise one eyebrow, lips twitching. “No offense, but I don’t think he’s ever been the best at anything so far, he’s just very good at pretending. He basically invented the phrase “fake it till you make it”.” 

Before Sana can reply, there’s a knock against one of the café’s windows. Surprised, you look up, and groan when you see a familiar face staring back at you. “What is he doing here?!”, you grumble, and place your mug on the counter, not moving a single muscle. But Sana, being her nice and angelic self, is already walking towards the door of the café, and before you can protest, she’s already unlocked it. Jisung jumps over the threshold, sporting a bright grin. He greets Sana with a hug, before sliding his giant headphones off his ears. “Moooorning.”, he says, with at least five Os. You’re already annoyed. You’ve known Jisung for… well. For a long time. Too long, some would say (you, for example). Your moms have been close friends since their own college years, and while they thankfully didn’t move into the same neighborhood, they ended up living quite close to each other. Meaning Jisung had been there for pretty much you entire childhood and teenage years - at every single one of your birthday parties, at most Christmases, and sometimes even at Easter (even though neither of your families really celebrated Easter). You’ve also gone on hiking trips together, and on wildlife expeditions, and on holidays by the seaside… In almost all your memories, there’s Jisung. 

“Ugh, why are you so obsessed with me?”, you whine when he leans over the counter to grab your mug and take a sip of your coffee, “There are literally hundreds of colleges and you had to go choose the one I’m attending?!” He grins, puffing out his stupidly adorable hamster cheeks. “I’d never be so cruel and rid you of my pleasant company, my dearest Y/N.”, he answers, dark eyes sparkling with humor. You just huff and turn around. “The usual?”, you ask in a flat voice, and he hums in confirmation. To say you hate Jisung would be a severe overstatement, you just often strongly... dislike him. And feel annoyed whenever he’s around. Mostly because he’s a walking disaster, who kinda thinks the world revolves around him (you blame him being an only child for that). One of your most vivid and probably also traumatic childhood memories is of your sixth birthday party: you had gotten a brand new, soft green bicycle, falling in love with it as soon as you laid eyes on it. Naturally, you had wanted to take it around the block for a little test drive, but all of the sudden, Jisung had thrown a big tantrum until your mom had made you give him the bike first. And being the clumsy child that he simply was (and kinda still is), he had crashed your beautiful new bike into a tree. The tree had won that battle, the handle bar completely bent, same with the front wheel. So you and your bike had been a very short love story with a tragic ending. Romeo and Juliet had nothing on you. And this instance has only been one of many - Jisung had also accidentally sat on your birthday cake once (till this day, you have no idea how he’d even managed to do that). He had also ruined one of your favorite jumpers by dumping ink all over it, had tipped over the canoe when you’d been happily paddling on a lake one summer day, and had given you a black eye when you went mini golfing for your eleventh birthday.

So Han Jisung has always been - and probably will always be - a walking disaster. Being his friend means you have a “Why is he like that” moment at least five times a day. Your biggest fear at the moment is that he’s accidentally going to sit on your brand new laptop and break it, the one you had been saving up for for over two years. And then you’ll just have to kill him which will probably make his very nice mom very sad. But as the bible clearly states: an eye for an eye, a life for a laptop. Or maybe he’s just going to set your whole apartment on fire - he’s truly a mess inside the kitchen, you sadly know that from experience (note to self: never try to bake cookies with Jisung ever again). Your old dorm kitchen will probably never recover from that one particular incident that ended with half the building having to be evacuated. This is one of the reasons why Jisung hasn’t been at your new place yet. The second one being that you also only just moved into it a few weeks ago. Ever since moving, he’s been pestering you though, asking you to have a movie night with him at your new place. Like you said, he’s kinda obsessed with you. He also literally spends every morning at the café you work at - or well, you just assume it’s every morning. As you’re a part timer, you don’t actually have to work every single morning, but he’s definitely always here when you have drawn one of the short straws again.

You quickly busy yourself with making a flat white for Jisung, his preferred drink of choice, while he continues to chat with Sana. They know each other thanks to a mutual friend of theirs, Chan - he’s one of Jisung’s roommates as well as Sana’s best friend. Everyone on campus knows Chan: he’s on the student council, he plays for the baseball team, and he’s one of the most promising music majors you’ve ever seen (or well, heard), already being scouted by different labels even though he’s not even a senior yet. And he’s also just so nice and down to earth, truly a prime example of a man. Jisung should really take a leaf out of Chan’s book. 

“Here you go.”, you say while sliding Jisung’s finished order his way, taking your own mug out of his hands while doing so. You quickly shake your head when he wants to hand you his credit card, and he shoots you a happy smile. Jun would probably fire you instantly if he knew about this, but not once have you let Jisung pay for his coffee - and you’ve been working here for almost four months now. You try to ignore the way your stomach jolts when Jisung locks eyes with you, but fail miserably. So maybe he has the most beautiful smile in the whole world, and maybe his eyes hold entire galaxies in them, but what about it? It’s not like you even really like him, right?

You turn around and pretend to wipe down the coffee machine, but in reality, you just don’t want to look at Jisung’s cute hamster cheeks anymore, because they just make you want to squish them. And you have a reputation to lose. “Well, I’m off to my lecture now - I hope your day will be pleasant, ladies!”, Jisung finally says, and you turn around, catching him giving you a mock salute and mischievous wink. You just wave at him, while Sana wishes him a good day as well. As soon as the door falls close behind him again, you exhale. You really need to get a grip on yourself.

It’s Friday night, and there’s a party at Jisung’s frat house. At first, you don’t want to go, but your roommate Amber basically drags you with her. You know she’s only going because she has the biggest crush on Chan, and you honestly can’t even blame her - half the girls on campus have a crush on him after all, and at least a third of the guys. But while Amber and Chan are good friends, nothing more has ever been going on between them - not yet, that is. Who knows, maybe tonight’s finally the night.

You’re currently sipping on some stale beer Seungmin - one of Jisung’s roommates - had handed you the second you stepped over the threshold of the frat house, scanning the room for people you know. Amber is off to greet some friends from her architecture class, so you’re on your own for now. Which is fine, you don’t really mind just standing in the corner to observe the other guests, it’s actually highly entertaining. For example, there’s one guy twerking like crazy to some Beyoncé song. You think his name is Kevin and he’s in your calc class. A friend of his is currently hyping him up like crazy, while another one with green dyed hair is clearly wishing he was somewhere entirely else. You honestly can’t blame him, the secondhand-embarrassment way too real. A few seconds later, Sana enters the room with a group of girls, and she happily waves at you as soon as she spots you. You simply return her smile, before continuing to watch Kevin. 

“Enjoying the show?”, someone beside you suddenly asks, and you jump, dumping some of your beer over your shirt. “Oh fuck you!”, you yelp, and turn around to glare at Minho’s shit-eating grin, “You definitely scared me on purpose!” “Fuck... me? Absolutely, just name the time and place, babe.”, he answers, and you smack his chest. “Not even in your wildest dreams, Lee.”, you reply, and narrow your eyes at him. He pouts playfully. “I just think we’d make a really great couple.”, he argues, and you shake your head. “Well, society should be able to limit what some people are allowed to think, then.”, you retort, voice flat, and he ruffles your hair. “You know what I love about you? You’re kinda mean and annoying, but unapologetically so.”, he says, and you raise one eyebrow. “I might be kinda mean and annoying, but at least my lock screen isn’t a selfie.” At this, Minho gasps dramatically, and protectively clutches his phone to his chest. “I mean, I could always change it to one of your selfies, you know?”, he then suggests, making you groan. He’s clearly drunk already or else he wouldn’t be flirting like this. If this sad attempt can even be considered flirting, it’s probably just him being his annoying and arrogant Scorpio self. Minho sighs deeply. “When will you finally accept my eternal love for you, Y/N?”, he asks, and tries to grab one of your hands, but you just smack him again. “Maybe when you finally stop cheating at drawing straws! I have the Monday morning shift again!”, you hiss, and he smirks. “You’ll never know my secret.”, he says smugly, and empties his cup in one single gulp. 

You begin to pout and take a sip from your own cup, eyes wandering towards where Kevin is still throwing it back on the dance floor. “If I ever do something remotely like that, just take me out, and instantly.”, you say, an exasperated expression on your face. “On a date or with a sniper?”, a familiar voice on your other side suddenly asks, and you sigh internally. “Han.”, you greet your favorite frenemy, and Jisung grins while wrapping one arm around your shoulder. “Nice to see you accepted my invite.”, he says, and you quickly duck out of his embrace, trying to ignore your racing heart. Minho just wiggles his eyebrows at you, before flashing you a shit-eating grin and disappearing from view. Traitor. 

“I only came because Amber asked me to.”, you explain, and stand on your tiptoes to look for your friend. Seriously, where did she even go?! It’s been at least 15 minutes since she left you on your own. “You can just admit that you missed my handsome face, you know.”, Jisung says, and you snort. “Yeah, whatever you say, hamster boy.” He groans, ruffling his hair with one hand and making it stand on end. You desperately suppress the need to flatten it again, and quickly take another sip of your beer. “Don’t you get tired of using that old nickname? Plus, my cheeks aren’t as chubby anymore! I have finally lost all my baby fat, the glow up we’ve all been desperately waiting for!”, he says, and you suppress a smile, looking him up and down. “I guess some people would agree that you don’t look bad.”, you finally reply, and ignore the way your heart flutters when he shoots you a wide grin. “Aww, you old softie, I knew you actually liked me.”, he says, lovingly punching your shoulder. You grimace, rubbing the spot he hit - you know he and Chan have started to work out recently, and apparently, Jisung doesn’t know his own strength anymore. “Now don’t get all sappy on me, just because I might have erased your name out of my death note.”, you reply, quickly draining your cup to hide your blush, and mumble something about getting a new drink before basically running away from him. When you enter the kitchen, you exhale deeply. Your hands are shaking, your heart is racing and you know the blush is still very prominent on your cheeks. 

So yeah, maybe you’re kinda a bit in love with Han Jisung. He might be a complete mess, but he’s also funny, hard-working, intelligent and something close to a musical genius. And yeah, maybe you absolutely adore his stupid hamster cheeks, bright smile and beautiful dark chocolate eyes. You close your eyes for a few seconds, groaning internally. You don’t want to be in love with Han Jisung! There is literally no other person you want to be less in love with. Okay, except for Lee Minho, simply because you just couldn’t bring yourself to ever date a Scorpio, no offense. But Han Jisung is at least a close second! 

You can’t even say when you first began to develop these kinds of feelings for him. After graduating high school, you had finally realized how much you’d actually miss Jisung’s constant presence once you had to go off to different colleges. You’re almost embarrassed to admit how your heart had leaped when he told you he’d actually be going to the same college as you. Maybe you had truly just always kind of loved him - him and his weird antics. He’s always been himself, and unapologetically so. In the modern world of snapchat filters, snow apps and facetune, he’s always felt real to you.

You shake your head, trying to get rid of these thoughts, and groan again. After you’ve refilled your red party cup, you drown it in a few gulps, repeating the process a few times. Drowning your feelings might not be the responsible thing to do just now, but well, you’re only in your early twenties, so you still have lots of time to become a more responsible adult in the future.

Half an hour later, you have probably drunk way too much beer and are also still trying to figure out where Amber has gone. So you finally decide to go search for her, noticing that for some reason, the floor seems to tilt a bit with every step you take. “Weeeeird.”, you mumble, squinting your eyes, “That’s new.” Just then, you manage to walk into someone, soaking their entire backside with your beer. The person yelps loudly, before turning around to glare at you. Your brain needs a few seconds to recognizes the handsome face, and when it finally does, you give him a bright smile while slurring “Hyunjiiiiiin.”, squishing his face between your hands. The boy turns from annoyed to alarmed, and pries your hands from his face while narrowing his eyes at you. “Okay, what and how much did you drink, Y/N?!” Your smile gets even wider. “Only the best kind of alcohol, which is a lot!” Hyunjin just groans and begins to look around for someone. “Where is Han when you need him?!” With that, he wraps one arm around your waist to pull you with him and through the crowd. You hold onto him like your life depends on it - and the way the floor is swaying from side to side right now, it truly just might. You make a disgusted sound when your hand touches Hyunjin’s soaked shirt. “You’re wet, do you know that?”, you mumble, head lulling around until Hyunjin gently guides it to rest against his shoulder. “Yeah, surprisingly I do.”, he says, but in your current state, his sarcasm gets totally lost on you. “You should change, it’s freezing outside, and we don’t want you to catch a cold!”, you tell him off, and he groans, half amused, half exasperated. “I promise I will change as soon as I’ve found Han.” 

You raise both eyebrows at that. “Why do you need to find Jisung? Does he have clothes for you?” Just then, Hyunjin seems to find the desired person, sighing in relief. “Hey, Han! I think your girlfriend has had a little bit too much to drink tonight.”, he yells over the music, and you frown. “His girlfriend? Since when does Jisung have a girlfriend?! And why hasn’t he told me about her?! I’m his oldest friend! Like, not old in the sense of actually being old, but in the sense of time spent toge-”, before you can ramble on, Hyunjin basically shoves you into Jisung’s outstretched arms. “Here, she’s your responsibility now! Take her home or whatever. I’m gonna go change.”, he says curtly, before turning around and marching off. You wave at his retreating backside, before you look up at Jisung, who sports a very confused expression. “Uh, what exactly happened?”, he asks, taking in your glossy eyes, flushed cheeks and lopsided smile, “Shit, are you drunk?! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk!” He actually looks amazed, and you can’t help but ruffle his dark hair. It feels silky when it slips through your fingers, and you giggle to yourself. “Nice.”, you murmur, before you glare at him, “So, you have a girlfriend and didn’t tell me about her?! That’s rather rude, you know? We’re friends, after all! The oldest friends ever! I tell you almost everything.” Jisung just blinks a few times, before he shakes his head in disbelief. “Uh, okay, maybe I should bring you home.”, he murmurs, and wraps his arms even tighter around your waist, “Where’s your stuff?” You shrug while snuggling closer to him to bury your face in the crook of his neck. He yelps, and freezes for a few seconds, before he sighs and drags you towards one of the sofas. “Wait here, okay? I’ll be back in a second.”, he murmurs softly, and tugs some of you hair behind your ear. You lean into his touch, and close your eyes while nodding. The last thing you hear is his low chuckle.

Bright sunlight greets you the second you try to open your eyes. You groan and decide it’s better to just close them again. Seeing is overrated anyway, especially when your head is pounding like crazy. Mh, maybe you did drink a little bit too much yesterday.

“Are you alive? Groan once for yes, twice for no.”

You truly love your roommate, but right now, you’re prepared to throw her out the window as her voice cuts through your hazy state like a knife. Still, you manage to groan once.

“Okay, good. There’s water on your bedside table, and some aspirin. Take it.” 

For the second time this morning (or midday, you honestly have no idea what time it is), you try to open your eyes, just a teeny tiny bit. Still half blind, you carefully fumble for said things on your bedside table. After taking the aspirin and drinking some water, you sigh in relief and fall back into your pillows. “You were really out of it yesterday, huh? Any reason for drinking for at least three people?”, Amber asks, her voice laced with quiet humor. You just grumble something unintelligible, and she chuckles. “Do you remember who brought you home?”

You finally turn around to look at her, raising one eyebrow. “... You?”, you guess, and she presses her lips together to try and stifle her shit-eating grin - she fails though. “Nope. I was kinda busy.”, she just answers, a smug expression on her face. You finally manage to sit up, ruffling your messy bed hair. “Busy doing what? Now that I think of it, I remember you were gone from my side the second we stepped foot inside the frat house. Talk about loyalty.” You try not to sound too offended, but while you don’t remember much from last night, you do remember that you spent some time looking for it, but in vain. “Chan.”, Amber just answers, and you squeal - regretting it a split second later when a sharp pain shoots through your head. “Remind me to never make that noise again while I’m nursing a hangover.”, you say, holding your head between your hands, and Amber giggles. “Noted. But yeah, Chan and I… well. Let’s just say we had a good night.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, and you return her grin. “Well, congrats, then! You snatched the Bang Chan, props to you.” Her smile softens, and she sighs dreamily. “He even asked me on a date afterwards. So we’re going out to get some pasta tonight.”, she tells you, and your smile gets even bigger. “I’m so happy for you, Amber. He’s a really great guy, and you deserve a really great guy.”, you say gently, and she nods. “Damn right I do. But speaking of a really great guy - Jisung was actually the one to bring you home last night.”, she explains, grinning smugly when she sees your shocked expression. “He did what now?!”, you ask, not ready to believe her, at least not yet. Amber leans back on her elbows, obviously enjoying this way too much. “Well, after you drank about half the alcohol the boys bought for the party, you decided to give Hyunjin a beer shower, who immediately realized it was definitely time to get you home, so he went searching for Jisung who then brought you to our apartment. No idea what happened after you left the frat house though, I only got to know about this because Hyunjin told Chan who told me.”

You bury your face in your pillow and let out a long, miserable noise. You sound a bit like a dying whale which makes Amber laugh. “Ah, come on, it’s not that bad. You and Jisung are friends after all, I’m sure he saw you drunk lots of times already!”

You shake your head.

“Wait, he hasn’t?!”

“Nope. I very rarely get drunk, and it’s not like Jisung and I are actual friends like that - friends who take care of each other and so on, you know?”, you try to explain, and Amber frowns. “What do you mean? Y/N, you and Jisung have known each other since forever, you hang out constantly, and you always talk about him with endless adoration - well, and a bit of annoyance too, to be fair. But what do you mean you’re not friends “like that”?!” You blink at her, surprise written all over your face. “I don’t talk about him with endless adoration!”, you disagree. Amber just gives you a very long, hard look, and you begin gnawing at your lip. “I… do?”, you ask in a small voice, and she nods. “You talk to him every day, Y/N, and you talk about him even more. It would be annoying if it weren’t also extremely cute.”, she replies, and begins filing her nails, lips twitching while she watches you trying to digest what she’s just told you. “I guess… I should at least message him to thank him for bringing me home.”

“And for tucking you into bed.”

You groan and throw your pillow at Amber. She catches it and laughs. “What, you looked very cozy and all snuggled up when I came home! And I doubt you yourself did that, at least if Hyunjin told the truth about the amount of alcohol you consumed yesterday.”

You look yourself up and down, noticing that you’re not wearing your clothes from last night anymore, but your favorite pj’s, the ones with little succulents on it. “Does this mean…”, you whisper, but shake your head, “Nope, not even going there. I’m way too sleep-deprived and hangover to deal with any of that right now.” Amber grins and shrugs. “Just go ask Jisung, I’m sure he can fill you in on everything.” You groan again, and fall back onto your bed. “I’ll have to take a shower first.”, you mumble, and close your eyes again. “Yes, please do, you reek of stale beer.” And with that, your roommate throws your pillow back at you.

It’s already about to get dark again when you arrive at the frat house, nervously bouncing on your feet for a few seconds before you finally gather the courage to knock on the front door. You quickly stuff your hands back into the pockets of your leather jacket, gnawing at your lower lip while waiting for someone to open the door. Just a few minutes later, Hyunjin’s tired face greets you. He raises both eyebrows when he lays eyes on you, immediately noticing your nervous expression. “Hi.”, you say, and give him a small smile. He leans against the doorframe, and crosses both arms over his chest. “Hi yourself. You actually look less zombie-like than expected.” You roll your eyes. “Thanks, today’s look is inspired by sleep deprivation and a mean hangover. Water and aspirin helped though, or else I could have auditioned for The Walking Dead.”, you grumble, “And uh… Thanks for yesterday, by the way. I’m really sorry about your shirt, I heard I dumped beer all over it.” Hyunjin cracks a smile at that, and shrugs. “Yeah, but it’s fine. The washing machine will take care of that. Wanna come in?”, he asks, and you nod, quickly following him inside the warmth of the parlor. 

Surprisingly, the house looks clean and tidy again - the guys must have spent the entire day getting rid of last night’s mess. You’re actually impressed. “Han is in his room.”, Hyunjin says, before you even have the chance to ask, and you gulp nervously. “O-okay…”, you mumble, and are just about to walk up the stairs, when Hyunjin tugs on your sleeve. You turn around to face him again, expression questioning. The boy gnaws at his lip, looking nervous. “Just… Finally tell him, okay? I’m like, literally begging you.”, he then says, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Tell him what, exactly?”, you inquire, but Hyunjin only gives you an exasperated gaze. “You know exactly what. We’re all tired of you guys pining after each other but not actually doing anything about your feelings. Quick reminder: this is not a cheesy rom-com where you have to wait until one of you guys leaves the country so you can finally declare your love at the airport or some big, stupid gesture like that. Just do it now, in his stuffy frat room and get it over with.” Before you’re able to reply, he gives you a mock salute and retreats into the kitchen. You huff, surprised at the audacity of his words, and turn around to finally go up the stairs and towards Jisung’s room. 

You take in a few deep breaths before knocking on his door, trying to steady yourself. Then, you wait - but after a few seconds have passed and the door has not yet been opened, you simply turn the doorknob and let yourself in. Jisung sits at his desk, giant headphones covering his ears while he hums along to the music he’s listening to. Well, that explains why he didn’t hear you knocking. You quickly cross the room, and tap his shoulder. He screams, and whips around, almost ripping his headphones off in the process. You giggle at his shocked expression, dark eyes almost comically big in his face. “When did you arrive!?”, he almost yells, and you slide the headphones off his ears, brushing some of his hair back while doing so. His eyelids flutter for a few seconds, before he raises one eyebrow. “You don’t look that shitty, which is surprising considering the amount of beer you drank last night.”, he says after looking you up and down, and you defensively cross your arms over your chest. “Wow, thanks. Always the charmer, huh?”, you huff in mock offense, and he grins up at you. “No need to charm when I know your heart is already mine.” You almost choke on your own spit, and beg the blush creeping on your cheeks to just not do that right now. Truly not the time nor place. “I came to thank you, actually. For last night - I heard you were the one to bring me home.”, you finally admit, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. 

Jisung just stares at you for a few seconds, before giving you a soft smile. “Well, yeah. I couldn’t just let anyone take you home - and Amber was kinda busy, I heard.” You nod. “True, I’m glad you didn’t interrupt whatever she was doing. So, uh, yeah, thanks, you’re… a good friend, I guess.” Almost immediately, embarrassment washes over you, and you groan at your own words. Jisung’s lips begin to twitch. “A good friend, huh?”, he repeats and crosses both hands behind his head, still looking at you with an unreadable expression on his face. You blink a few times, before slowly beginning to nod. “Y-yeah…?” “For someone so smart, you’re really fucking oblivious sometimes, you know that?”, Jisung suddenly states, and you huff. “Excuse me?! Who do you call obliv-” But before you can tell him off, he pulls you onto his lap and then, his lips are on yours. You yelp, freezing for a few seconds, before basically melting against him. He hums appreciatively, and wraps both arms around you to pull you even closer towards him, deepening the kiss. You bury your hands in his soft hair, gently tugging on it, and he groans against your lips. You use the chance to slide your tongue into his mouth while his hands wander lower to grab your ass. You shift on top of him, and he moans when you brush against his crotch. 

When you draw back to catch your breaths, you simply stare at each other, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. Then, Jisung begins to smile at you, and your heart flutters. Twenty years of seeing his smile, but you’ll apparently never get used to it. “About fucking time.”, he then murmurs against your lips, voice pleased, and you roll your eyes at him. “I’m not oblivious, by the way! You’re the oblivious one - I never give anyone free coffee, because it could literally cost me my job, and yet you always get a flat white on the house!”, you tell him, and he smirks. “Oh, baby, the oblivious one is definitely you - or do you really think I just happen to have a lecture every morning you got the early shift again?”, he replies, a smug expression on his face. You just stare at him. “You-”, but before you can say anything else, Jisung quickly presses his lips against yours again. You immediately lean into his embrace, and close your eyes, losing yourself to his touch - so familiar, yet also so new and exciting.

Yes, maybe you’ve truly always been in love with Han Jisung - but at least he seems to feel the exact same way. 

[masterlist] | [requests] 

[channiebbang]

[17:23]

everything felt like a fuzzy dream. the joking banters, the funny texts, the innocent teasing, the jokes thrown here and there, the gradual comfort they were building around each other, it was small but noticeable to her.

maybe she noticed the way she started relaxing around him because she spent so much time keeping her guard up that letting loose in so long felt almost easing, like a cold shower on a warm sunny day.

she was so lost in the way he messed around with her, that she forgot about the bigger, impending, truth that may lay behind his action. that or she simply didn't know until someone opened her eyes for her.

since they met five months prior, they always had a cat and mouse kind of relationship, much like the one she had with everyone else in the friend group. she had always kept her guard up around people, new and old alike, always careful to not let them in too much, to not say too much about her life. the fear of not being able to trust anyone fully way too big. and after the only person she could ever trust wholly, broke up with her, that thought only reinforced itself. because she knew she would never be able to trust anyone as much as she trusted her last lover. so when they broke up a few months before she started being comfortable around minho, she decided she didn't want to let anyone know. for she didn't want anyone to think she was what people called "fresh on the market".

she didn't know when she started loosening up around him. maybe it started when after all the play fighting on the field, that one day they had a group picnic, she started her period right before they left for home and her cramps hit her. and as she tried helping everyone carry the remnants of what was left of their belongings, he had fallen in step with her and with already a bag in each hand he had softly taken the heavy water case from her hand muttering a "here, give it to me," and she had protested that she could carry it only for him to scold her, "good for you, now give that here. you're already in pain."

or maybe it was when she went to that birthday party and he insisted her drink a few sips from his glass because, "i didn't mix too much vodka, it's almost all sprite," he had muttered just so their friends would stop bothering her and she would be able to have fun.

or again, maybe it was when he invited her, felix and moonbin to his house for dinner with his mother. they had stayed at his place until almost 2am and they had fun writing funny things on the white board in his room and taking polaroids, and when the picture developed he had cackled loudly and, "i cannot believe this! your dress looks like we're wearing matching pajamas," he had pointed out.

or maybe it was when the same night he had jokingly given her a Yu Gi Oh card and told her to put it in her clear phone case, saying something about "the monster's lips look like it's blowing someone off, and you're good at that, right?" and she had promptly thrown a few punches and kicks while he laughed loudly and taken her phone to put the card on top of her photocard, saying a "do not change it."

or once more, maybe when he would promptly check every time they met after if she had changed the card and once he saw that she indeed did he would wrestle her to jokingly tell her he would throw away the photocard once he gets his hands on it.

and the fact he made her download a texting app when he deactivated on all social media because of his studies just to text non stop didn't exactly help her.

or how when he asked advice on skincare, she had suggested about a cleanser she couldn't find anywhere but was insanely good for her, he had come over the next day with the cleanser in hand. when she told him "ayy you got it!" thinking he had bought it on his way to her place, he had said, "that's for you, i bought two." and when she said he didn't need to he said, "it's okay, you said you couldn't find it anywhere, so," and he had shrugged his shoulders like nothing.

it was always the small things.

and maybe it was the day he was sharing with her and felix about his rocky again off again relationship that she thought that maybe she could tell him that she had broken up with her lover. and so she had signed subtly to felix if she should say something about her private life when they made a deal of all three saying something about their love life because minho didn't want to be the only one to share stuff. but felix shook his head and trusting her childhood friend blindly she had said nothing.

nothing until a week after he texted her asking if she woke up early in the morning to talk to her long distance boyfriend, and she had thought she had avoided the question when she said something about her waking up late everyday. later, when she had told that to felix laughing, he had chuckled and told her, "don't tell him, he'll tell moonbin right away."

moonbin. moonbin was the truth she had forgotten.

moonbin, a close friend, who happened to have a crush on her. her, when everyone knew she was taken. her, when all she wanted was to be friends with everyone. moonbin, who had just gone through a messy break up from a relationship he still wasn't over, claimed he liked her.

and the day she found out she couldn't lie and say she was surprised nor was that she thrilled. and moonbin's every nice action made her feel like he did it because he had ulterior reasons and as much as felix told her he was just that nice to everyone, she didn't like the unsettling feeling in her bones. because she didn't want people spending money on her just to hold it over them. she hated the feeling of being indebted to people.

and somehow the fact that moonbin had told everyone around the friend circle about his crush on her didn't sit well with her. she hated the feeling of everyone knowing what goes on behind all of his teasing and possibly teasing her about it or the nightmare that was shipping. she absolutely hated all that, finding the act of shipping and teasing to be childish. she liked her life to be private, her romantic life more than every other aspect, and sadly moonbin wasn't like that.

and the other big thing was that she had no feelings for moonbin, and to a certain extent she didn't have any feeling for minho either. the only thing she knew was that minho, unlike moonbin, made her feel like she could talk to him without fearing him discussing her problems with anyone else. or maybe she just didn't know him that well, but she couldn't deny the comforting feeling he carried around, like he would listen to anyone sharing their problems with him. which she knew she wasn't the only one feeling that way.

and as she sat on the floor of her room that morning with felix, she felt her walls slowly going up again between her and minho. and her mind started getting clouded again by questions she didn't, nor she would ever have answers to.

did he try to warm up to me to wingman moonbin? did he just want to find out about my relationship status to tell moonbin?

did he not want to be my friend just because, maybe, he liked my personality?

was this all it was about?

and the ever persistent reason why she never could open up to anyone came back. the constant feeling of not being worth of friends with came back. nobody would want to be friends without any other motive. and the thought brought back all the other bad feelings she had slowly learned to overcome slowly.

so she told herself that she needed to close off again. she needed to be like before. unknown, but someone that was important to keep around because she was childhood friends with felix.

so that day, when minho texted her, she didn't reply as fast as she usually would, and she decided she wouldn't get any closer anymore.

[peaches-writes]

3 + 20 w changbinnie pls?

3. “Who’s gonna tell them?” + 20. “This Kahoot is rigged! I’m leaving!”

vivi’s september special (drabble game) - september 16

member: changbin wc: 1k genre: fluff, secret relationship au, implied college au, game night au warning: explicit language note: thinking abt spending my birthday hosting a kahoot game for my friends lmao 

“Okay,” You excitedly call for everyone’s attention in your group, clicking on the scoreboard option on your laptop and projecting it on the TV in front. In front of you, everyone follows and looks up at the scoreboard, giggling at seeing their team names again. “Team Iced Americano is surprisingly leading with 6,500 points—as expected, Lee Minho is cheating again and Han Jisung just condones it—followed by Team Aussie with 4,000 points then Team Forest Animals with 2,500 points, and Team Pig Bunny on last place with 2,000 points—ya, Seo Changbin, you said you can win this on your own! Why are you still in last place?!”

Across the room, Changbin raises his phone high up his head and pretends to chuck it at you as he sits up and kneels on the carpet. “This Kahoot is rigged! I’m leaving!” He complains in frustration, Felix and Jeongin from both his sides pulling him back down to sit properly in between fits of laughter. “Why can’t you consider my answer a while ago?” 

“The question was what my favorite movie is,” You defend yourself, hands still held over your head in case Changbin throws the pillow on his lap next. “and favorite should be just one since it’s Kahoot!” 

“But you’re still keeping manual score! Shouldn’t that get considered on manual score, at least?” He then points to your index cards keeping manual tally of everyone’s scores while you put your hands down. “Not even a 0.5?” 

“To be fair, Princess Diaries 1 and 2 are the same thing anyway so you can consider it a bit.” Seungmin pipes in as he alternates looking between you and Changbin, waving his hands dismissively after. “But you didn’t hear that from me!” 

“Seungmin, quiet, Changbin might catch up to us!” Hyunjin scolds as tonight’s leader of Team Forest Animals, Jeongin nodding along in protest. “And that might add another 500 points to Team Aussie!”

“You’re just jealous you didn’t get in our team.” Chan points out teasingly, earning him a ‘ya!’ from Hyunjin.  

With that, Felix immediately lets go of Changbin. “Okay, I change my mind. Changbin go on, defend your answer!” He chuckles. “More points for us!” 

Meanwhile, you shake your head with a chuckle, “Nope, not a chance, everyone. Let’s just move on the next question.” You then adjust your laptop on your lap, returning your index cards back on one side before sparing another glance at your friends. “Anyway, I think the next question’s going to be easier for everyone.” 

“Ya, that’s what you said with the other 14 questions!” Jisung complains this time, actually throwing a pillow your way since he sits right in front of you. “This Kahoot is rigged!” 

You throw the pillow back at him when it lands right in front of you, hitting him and Minho. “Do you want to win the free food coupons or not?” 

“Jisung’s just being dumb.” Minho smiles as sweetly as he can, snatching their shared tablet from the younger boy. “Just move on with the next question, Y/N!” 

You chuckle in response, moving on to the next question on your laptop. “Okay, then, question 15: Is Y/N single right now? ‘Yes,’ ‘no,’ ‘only on Tuesdays and Thursdays,’ or ‘how the fuck are we supposed to know?!’” 

The teams then breaks into their own discussions about the question as the timer begins its 30-second countdown, mostly Chan and Felix asking Jeongin from the other team about your MWF class schedule, Minho and Jisung giggling at choosing the last option, and Hyunjin trying to coerce Seungmin trying to press two choices at once. You glance at Changbin last, catching him mouth, “Who’s gonna tell them?” to you with an amused smirk, all his frustration over your Kahoot game long gone now that he’s confident he’ll be the only one who’ll answer this particular question right this time. 

“Just answer the question. Five-hundred points for you.” You mouth back at him with a giggle just as the timer echoes obnoxiously loud, tearing your eyes away from Changbin to ask everyone, “Okay, show of screens! Who got it right?”

“Why are we wrong?!” Jeongin is the first to question the validity of the official Kahoot answer, pouting at you without even looking at everyone else’s answers. “Aren’t you mentally dating the lead from that drama you’re watching? The one that airs every other day?” 

“Really? I was thinking of Y/N mentally dating that one classmate in one of your MWF classes.” Chan suggests to Jeongin, Changbin immediately smacking him on the elbow. “What?!” 

“What? Ew, no, gross, that’s not it.” You deadpan while gesturing for him to bring his team’s tablet down before turning to Minho and Jisung. “Anyway, Team Iced Americano, I respect you for being straight-forward—”

“So, 0.5—?” Minho asks with hopeful eyes. 

“No, not a chance still.” You quickly turn him down before glancing over at Felix and Chan who have the same answer as Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin’s team then at Changbin. “So, I guess only Changbin got it right.” 

“What?!” Everyone but you and Changbin exclaim in chorus, turning their attention now to Changbin who proudly shows off his phone screen. 

You topple over in laughter at their collective reaction, clapping your hands in amusement, while Changbin stifles his own giggles with a hand over his mouth. 

“Are you serious? Are you kidding me right now?!” Jisung whines, thrashing his throw pillow around now while Minho only sinks back in his seat. 

“What are you complaining about? You’re leading the game!” Seungmin points out, smacking Jisung with a throw pillow, half-hitting Minho in the process. 

Meanwhile, Jeongin muses, “Can Kahoot questions be wrong? Why is ‘yes’ the right answer? Y/N, you’re not even dating anyone—I should now, we’re blockmates.” 

“Y/N, you’re just pushing it right now.” Felix speaks up next, feigning a disappointed frown as he shakes his head which only makes you laugh harder. “I know we have our moments but I really want those food coupons. Won’t you consider?” 

You shake your head again at another offer of considering answers, quickly tallying everyone’s scores on your index cards. “I won’t consider because it’s not a joke.” 

Chan eyes you skeptically, “Really?” 

“Really.” You nod, wiggling your eyebrows before pointing at Changbin. “Ask Changbin, he’s the only one who answered ‘yes.’“ 

september special m.list

m.list

[skzsauce01]

The Trials and Tribulations of Birthday Presents

Synopsis: Chan’s birthday is only three hours away, and you, his loving girlfriend, still don’t have a gift for him. Modern magic AU because it’s October.

Warning: one instance of calling and driving flying (please don’t do this!)

Word Count: 2.9k

Pairing: fem!reader x Bang Chan

What does one find in a magic shop?

Fat wax candles, decks of tarot cards, and antique spellbooks, just to name a few. If the shop is particularly well stocked, there may be rare potion ingredients like bottled lightning and threads of moonlight.

Despite all the fascinating things available, the very magic shop you work at has nothing for your particular dilemma: a suitable gift for your beloved. In other words, there are only three hours left before your boyfriend’s birthday, and you still have no idea what to get him.

“What do I do, what do I do?” you mutter to yourself.

The minute hand of giant clock face mounted to the oak paneling wall ticks, reminding you that time is of the essence and something you have naught of. If only you knew a time wizard; then you could allow yourself to panic and avoid the problem for a few hours longer.

The black cat perched at the register counter beside you flicks his tail, making the pages flutter. “We do have an aisle dedicated to gifts, you know.”

“There’s nothing good there!” you wail.

Glass candle holders and generic happiness potions don’t scream “I cherish you and the day of your birth greatly!” Though the specialty potions shop across town could probably make you one that literally screams that…

You bat the absurd idea and the cat’s tail away, making it hiss at you as a result. “Isn’t your shift over, Minho? It’s past nine.”

“Oh!” He shifts back into human form and cheerfully hops off the counter, making the floorboards creak. “Lucky me. Good night then.”

“No, wait! Help me! I’m sorry I was mean!” you pathetically call after him. “Minho!”

He turns around and starts heading back to the register. When he sees how relieved you look, he heads for the door again. “Good luck!”

You do your best impression of a banshee in an attempt to stop him, but he doesn’t flinch. “Give some advice at least! Please!”

“Be spontaneous,” he says as he opens the door. “Stop being so practical and get Chan something fun.”

The door swings shut, and Black Cat Minho waves a paw at you before darting down the street. The store goes quiet, and you stand by the counter with your head in your hands.

“But I don’t know how…”

One of your finer attributes is being practical. Plenty of people, namely all your friends who have received presents from you, even say that you are overly practical. It’s not necessarily a bad thing; it just means that they get new brewing stands and gift cards to the local plant nursery for birthdays rather than plushies and balloons.

But Chan’s has to be different and special, which means you have to be reckless and spontaneous and everything you are not.

While you pace around the store, looking for something you would never even consider buying, Changbin steps out of a nearby shadowy corner. He mumbles a hello and brushes his jacket sleeve, no doubt to rid himself of any pieces of darkness from his journey.

“Hey, Changbin,” you brightly greet, walking closer to him with your hands behind your back.

He gives you a strange look at your sudden chipperness and tries to get away. Unfortunately for him, he chose to arrive in a corner, and you easily trap him in.

“How was shadow travelling? Great? That’s great. Anyway, do you think Chan would like this?” You hold up a mesh bag full of stuffed mice, taxidermied ones and plushie ones included.

“What is he even going to do with those? Can I go now?”

You let him pass. “So, it’s perfect then!” Merrily, you take the bag with you to the register and start applying your employee discount code.

Changbin, who has not started working, hovers around. “Wait, is this what you’re getting him for his birthday?”

You stop pressing buttons and fearfully look at him. “Why are you saying it like that?”

You can always count on Changbin on being blunt with you, but it still stings when he answers. “He’ll like it because you gave it to him, but he doesn’t need dead mice. He works with summonings, and what demon likes already dead mice?“

“I’m trying a new approach,” you indignantly say. “No practical presents.”

“Okay, but he doesn’t want dead mice either.”

He makes a fair point. You cancel the purchase and leave the bag on the counter.

“What did you get him?” you ask. You mournfully scan the inventory pages, and the words feel like they’re taunting you. “Crystal ball? Gilded owl cage? Velvet-lined coffin?”

He laughs at your guesses and shows you a picture on his phone. An image of a koala plushie holding a vial of something shimmery stares back at you.

“Is that… dust bunny dust?” you say, pinching the screen to zoom in. “But you can literally find that under your bed.”

“When we were fifteen, he said— never mind, it’s an inside joke.” He tucks his phone back into his pocket and picks up the stuffed mice to put back on the shelf. “Why don’t you get him flowers and chocolate?”

“But that’s so… pedestrian. And more of an anniversary thing.” You sigh and wave him off. “I’ll let you get to work now.”

However, since the shop is quite empty in the late hours — who wants to go shopping when all the best things happen at night — Changbin soon returns by your side to help you solve your issue. You scroll through old text messages between you and Chan to find something noteworthy. You’re starting to reconsider Changbin’s earlier suggestion.

“What if I get him a birthday cake and flowers?” you try after finding a link to a boutique bakery from the town across the river. “But a really special cake and really special flowers.”

“Isn’t that too ‘pedestrian?’” he jokes. At your defeated expression, he pats your shoulder reassuringly. “I think he’ll like it. It’s a little bit practical as well.”

You suppose Changbin is still little miffed by the lint roller and darkness duster you gave him for his birthday.

“Is anything still open though?” You do a search for the local bakeries and flower shops, but as expected, most are already closed. On the bright side, you do know a florist who may not be too appalled if you knock on his door at this hour. “Do you think Jeongin will mind if I barge in for flowers?”

“Yes.”

As for the cake, a simple grocery store cake won’t do. The 24-hour grocery store, luckily, lives up to its name and is still open, which means you can make your own. “And do you think I can make a cake before midnight?”

“No.”

“I will switch those two answers around.” You grab your broomstick from the stand and are ready to leave when you remember that you are still supposed to be working. “Oh wait.”

Changbin shakes his head and nudges you to go ahead. “I can handle it.”

“I can’t just leave early! I’ll get fired!” You nervously drum your fingers on the countertop. You need a new plan, stat. “How about no cake? Agh! But just flowers is… agh!”

He laughs — how dare he! — at your panic. “Jihyo will understand. You’re also the only one who doesn’t fight when you get the witching hour shift.”

Your boss is quite nice and understanding, especially about things regarding relationships. After all, she was an apprentice for a witch specializing in love potions before she decided to open the shop. You hurriedly run for the door as the giant, looming clock ticks again.

“Thanks and good night!” you call over your shoulder to Changbin, who wishes you luck in return.

With some difficulty, you light the lantern dangling at the front of your broomstick. It’s dangerous of you, but you dial Jeongin’s phone number while flying to the grocery store and hope he picks up. If there were actual traffic laws for flying, you are certain you are breaking all of them. The dial tone is cut off, and Jeongin barely gets out a hello before you interrupt.

“I need flowers!” you shout over the rush of the wind. The neon sign of the store slowly blinks, and you nosedive down, scattering a cloud of vampire bats as you descend, almost dropping your phone in the process. “For Chan! So the best ones you have!”

“What kind of flowers?” You hear the sound of water from his end, so he must be tending to his night plants.

“Did you not hear me?” You grab a shopping cart, throw your broomstick in, and haphazardly snatch cake ingredients off the shelves. “The best ones you have! Also, can I borrow your kitchen?”

“That’s not what I— never mind. Sure, you can use my kitchen.”

“Thank you!” you chirp as you grab the last carton of milk. “See you soon.”

You hear Jeongin mumble a goodbye and hang up. Your cart is filled, and you’re certain that you have everything you need to make Chan the most magical birthday cake of his life. Self-checkout is fortunately devoid of customers, so you scan all the products as quickly as you can. Your broomstick is back-heavy as you head to Jeongin’s with your heavy bag of ingredients.

The giant upstairs window of his house is wide open, curtains pulled back, and you fly right through, landing on the kitchen floor with a heavy thump. Jeongin doesn’t even look away from his activity at the sink.

“Hello,” you say a little breathlessly. You take your bag and lean your mode of transport against the wall. “Sorry for coming on such short notice.”

“You couldn’t celebrate his birthday later in the day?” he asks. He’s snipping stems. “I’ve got plants to take care of and harvest.”

You find a large enough cauldron in one of his cabinets and start adding in butter and sugar. “I know, I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of anything to get him, so cake and flowers was a last-minute thing. I’ll buy gift cards here instead of the nursery for birthday presents next time.”

Jeongin seems happy with your response, and he breaks out the extra fancy ribbon he usually saves for expensive orders. With the exception of you mumbling cooking spells and him shuffling flowers around, it’s mostly quiet. After fifteen minutes, you slide the cake pan into the oven and pray the recipe you followed works. You anxiously stare at the clock, the incessant tick tock growing louder with each second. You’re not going to have enough time to frost the cake and make it look pretty at this rate.

While you make the buttercream frosting, you ask Jeongin, “What kind of flowers are you using?”

“The best ones I have,” he replies. You don’t need to see it to know he has a crescent moon smirk on his face. “The real answer is roses, lavender, and jasmine.”

Minho’s reminder of being spontaneous and not practical echoes in your ears. “Those are very practical choices,” you slowly say.

“Isn’t that what you want?”

“I’m trying a new approach. But it looks very pretty!” you add, admiring the colors. “He’ll need the lavender for stress anyway.”

He chuckles, and you sigh at your one-track mind.

When the clock strikes eleven, you’re officially in full panic mode. The bouquet is complete and resting in a glass jar of water. Jeongin, who for some reason trusts you to be alone in his home, leaves you while he attends to his plants. The cake — the stupid, still warm, ‘cannot be frosted unless you want the entire thing to look like an old wax candle’ cake — is sitting on the counter, and you whisper cooling spells that do not seem to be working.

It does smell lovely though, so at least the recipe worked.

After fifteen minutes of waiting and reciting cleaning spells, you start applying the first assembling the cake and icing it. You’re scraping the excess off when your phone rings. You mindlessly swipe across the screen with your knuckle, smearing a tiny bit of buttercream across the surface.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Hey, it’s Chan! Are you still coming over tonight? I just wanted to check since I know you’ve got work.”

You squeak and quickly push his almost-finished present aside, afraid he will discover the surprise even though he can’t see you. “Hey!” you say as nonchalantly as possible. He doesn’t know, you repeat to yourself. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“Alright. I can’t wait.”

You hear him smiling, and a colony of bats flutter in your stomach out of anticipation and nervousness. “I’ve gotta get back. I’ll see you later. And happy early birthday.”

“Thanks, love. See you in a bit. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

He hangs up, and you quickly swing back into the thick of things, piping the birthday message in cursive across the top,and decorating the sides with the same sprinkles as inside the cake. It looks, let’s be honest here, terrible, and you decide to use magic to make it look better. It feels like cheating, but what’s the point of being a witch if you can’t use your powers for good?

Jeongin comes back inside and gives an appreciative “Ooh!” when he sees your creation. “That looks really nice.”

“Thanks, I used magic.”

He becomes less impressed. You make a face at him while you carefully put Chan’s cake into a cardboard box, which you stole from Jeongin’s supply cabinet. A cheerful alarm sounds, and your phone screen reads, “11:55 PM - Chan’s Birthday!”

Time is of the essence, and you possess none. You rush about, putting the box into the bag and letting it hang from the back of your broomstick like you did with the ingredients. There are still remnants of your decorating on the counter, so you hastily say a cleaning spell and hope it doesn’t go haywire.

Jeongin is a warlock; he can handle it.

The bouquet you hold with one hand, while your other one steers your broomstick. Your friendly but not useful friend watches you in amusement, and you bid him good night as you launch out of the window.

“Good night!” he yells, his voice ringing through the air. “Tell him ‘happy birthday’ for me!”

“Tell him yourself!” you shout back.

A few petals scatter into the wind, and you force yourself to slow down. You are flying, you should have adequate time, you cannot mess this up. Chan’s house isn’t too far away by broom, and you watch as the ETA on your GPS ticks down.

Destination in two minutes.

Destination in one minute.

Arrived at destination.

11:59 PM.

With a sigh of relief, you land and gather your gifts in your arms. Before you can even knock on the door with your foot, it opens. Chan, a grin on his face, stands on the other side of the threshold.

“Happy birthday!” you greet. You present him with his presents. “Happy birthday to the best person alive — you!”

He hugs you, gifts and all. “Thank you,” he says, his breath tickling your ear.

“Anything for you.”

Oh, how true that statement is.

After you nestle your broomstick in the rack outside, Chan leads you into the living room, and you place the box on the coffee table, which is surprisingly devoid of his usual clutter. The bouquet he takes from you and studies it.

“Lavender for stress, roses for… rosehip tea? And what are the white ones?” he asks.

“Jasmine, and I guess for tea as well. If one of your demons likes jasmine, you can use it in a summoning too.” You poke at his cheek, right where his dimple is. “Open the box.”

“Is it a cake? It smells sweet.”

He lifts the top of the box. He laughs, shuts it back close, and looks at you with lively eyes. “You made this, didn’t you? Your magic is all over it.”

“Do you like it?”

“Of course I do. It looks amazing!” He pulls you closer and rubs his nose against yours. “Was it hard to bake?”

A fifty times sped up video of the hours before play inside your head. “It was hard to decide what to get you,” you decide after a moment. “I wanted to do something different than what I usually do.”

“No basket of common summoning items this year?” he teases.

“You said it was useful last month!” A flash of worry passes through you. “Would you rather have received that instead? Oh my. By the moon and stars, I can’t believe that the one time—”

Your forthcoming rambling is cut off when he puts his lips on yours. It’s sweet, slow, gentle, and out of nowhere. “Hm?” you squeak out once you lean away, too shocked to actually say, “What was that for?”

“I love whatever you get me,” he assures.

“No.” Kiss on your left cheek.

“Matter.” Right cheek.

“What.” Left corner of your mouth.

“It.” Right corner.

“Is.” One sloppy smooch on your lips.

He peppers you with more kisses, and you giggle at his messy attempts. “Even taxidermied mice?”

“Yes,” he replies, seemingly serious. “Decent sacrifice material for small things and good for gag gifts.” He softly chuckles. “I would rather have cake and flowers though. Much more pleasant.”

You mimic his big smile from earlier. “Happy birthday, Chan.”

~ ad.gray

[giasonesdream]

nouveau riche non accueilli (E)

Pairing: Lee Minho (Lee Know) x fem!Reader

Characters: Lee Minho, Han Jisung, Yang Jeongin, Bang Chan (mentioned), Hwang Hyunjin (mentioned)

Summary: Nearly a year ago, Lee Minho signed his soul over to a demon in order to gain wealth through his writing. Shortly after, you come along, the half-demon half-human sent to watch him, make sure he doesn’t break the contract early. The newly famous author is invited to a masquerade ball, and you’re the only person he could possibly ask to accompany him.

Excerpt: “Pretty sure Old Money vs New Money is one of those universal issues.” He takes the mask from your grasp, tossing both back onto the bed before grabbing the black velvet tie that had been laid out with the rest of his suit. 

“But you’re not New Money.” You slide in front of the mirror, obstructing his view when he turns back around. Nevertheless, he still tries to see around you. Slithering further into his personal space, you can smell his body wash. It’s not the typical woody scent that men tend to go for, but it still smells sinful, like something that could make anyone fall over themselves. But you’re sure Minho had that effect on people even before…

“You’re Blood Money,” you hiss sinisterly. “Demon Money. You sold your soul for this life, this penthouse suite, the opportunity to dine with South Korea’s most famous clans.”

Warnings: oral sex, mirror sex (ish)...think minho curses, like, once in the entire fic

Word Count: 6.858k (too fucking long)

“I like this mask more,” you state simply, holding up the intricate black mask, ornate with gold designs etched into the plastic. Holding it close to Minho’s solemn expression, you smile. “Wanna make sure we can see those delicious lips.”

He rolls his eyes, and you watch in satisfaction as those lips part to take in and exhale a heavy sigh; exasperate, no doubt. 

You remember where you were when Minho had received his invitation to The Han Clan’s Masquerade Ball. Your favourite tub sat stand-alone in the en-suite of the second master bedroom. While the master bedroom you normally shared with Minho had a wall of windows to overlook Gangnam, this bathroom had a window big enough for you to see the passing traffic on busy Korean highways. At night, the red brake lights and warm headlights were entrancing. So that’s where you were, soaking in warm bubbles with soothing scents of apple ginger, when Minho knocked calmly on the half opened door.

He moved slowly, like he was afraid one wrong move could scare you away...or make you lash out (in the 9 months of your relationship with the man, it was still hard to tell). With his eyes trained on yours, he lowered himself until he sat on the marble floor right outside the tub. The small candles lining the rim performed a beautiful dance with the reflections on his face, licking across his nose, caressing up his cheeks, sliding across his lips. You were so weak for his lips.

You only realized belatedly, as he hesitated with the card clenched in his fingers, that he must have had some news for you. With the amount of patience you could muster, you only managed to keep your eyes loud as you raised your brows, waiting for him to speak.

“I got invited to Han Jisung’s birthday party. A masquerade ball.” 

You didn’t entirely understand his tightness, nor did you want to divulge in what his worries must be. All you knew was that there’s probably an option for a Plus One, and there’s no one Minho could have possibly picked to go with him other than you.

So you smiled, baring teeth in a manner you learned to be kind, maybe even comforting. “That’s fantastic, honey! And are you, perhaps, in search of a date for this?”

Whatever thoughts troubled him seemed to ease away in that moment, just a little. You learned quickly that Minho liked your forwardness, found something attractive about how confident you could be in yourself and him. 

He smirked, blinking up under his lashes. “Do you want to accompany me, (Y/N), to this ball?”

You threw your head back dramatically, sliding further into the bath as one leg lifted from the clouds of bubbles. “Lee Minho! A man after my heart.”

That was a month ago, and the night had come. With the summer still fighting its way until autumn officially came, 7pm found you just enough light coming in through that wall of windows in your bedroom. You had emerged from the bathroom, freshly clean from your shower and pampering to find Minho with half his suit on, holding two different masks in his hands. You, being the gracious...whatever you were to this man, decided to help him make this seemingly tough decision. 

And all he could do was roll his eyes at you. Rude, much?

“I believe the correct response is, ‘Thank you, baby’.” You shake your head violently, waving in front of yourself. “No, wait, okay. Let’s try this again.” Clearing your throat, you hold up the mask again, as you did a moment prior. “I like this mask more. Wanna make sure we can see those-”

“(Y/N)...” groans an ill-tempered Minho. No, not ill-tempered. Anxious. He picks his next words carefully, surely knowing your expression is challenging of his short fuse. “How...how good is your French?”

Surprisingly enough, your first job was in France. But that guy hadn’t lasted more than 3 months before breaking the contract. Minho doesn’t need to know that, though. You shrug.

“C'est pas terrible,” you respond.

The man nods. “So, then, you know the term ‘nouveau riche’,” he assumes. 

You understand him quickly and begin to snicker in incredulity. “Do people really care about that here?”

“Pretty sure Old Money vs New Money is one of those universal issues.” He takes the mask from your grasp, tossing both back onto the bed before grabbing the black velvet tie that had been laid out with the rest of his suit. 

“But you’re not New Money.” You slide in front of the mirror, obstructing his view when he turns back around. Nevertheless, he still tries to see around you. Slithering further into his personal space, you can smell his body wash. It’s not the typical woody scent that men tend to go for, but it still smells sinful, like something that could make anyone fall over themselves. But you’re sure Minho had that effect on people even before…

“You’re Blood Money,” you hiss sinisterly. “Demon Money. You sold your soul for this life, this penthouse suite, the opportunity to dine with South Korea’s most famous clans.”

Instead of replying, the ash blond only gives you a pointed look, and you can hear your name without him even having to open his pretty mouth.

“What? I’m just saying, you’re not New Money. You’re in a league of your own.” 

“And you don’t have to remind me. Having a half-breed concubine is reminder enough.” He huffs in frustration after fussing with his tie. 

And clearly it shows a testament to your feelings for him, as his words sober you some. Truthfully, being a half-demon person working with Soul Contracts means trying to get the poor bastard that sold their soul in the first place to break said contract. You’re not even sure when you gave up actually trying to do so (perhaps it was when Minho bought this penthouse and you got to take a bath in that tub). Regardless, Lee Minho, and his desperate desire to be a nationally recognized and respected author, intrigued you. 

In the silence, you instinctively reached out, fixing his tie and making sure it looks as pristine as the rest of him. 

“Tch,” you scoff, mumbling under your breath. “Concubine. You think so little of me.” 

Maybe you’re aware of it, maybe not, but Minho catches when you hide your face, keeping your eyes focused on the way your fingers twist and pull at the velvet fabric. Very rarely do you get embarrassed or shy, and like hell would you ever admit to his words making you do so. Even if there’s little merit to your words, it’s unspoken, the way you guys can resolve conflicts.

He stands there quietly, watching over you in the mirror, staring at his reflection because even now, with almost a year with his new life, he still does not recognize himself. Sure, that is his face looking back at him, but the memories that associate with this body he is in seem like someone else’s, not his own. But selling your soul didn’t necessarily make you soulless...did it?

Satisfied with the perfection of the tie as it sits against his chest, you smile proudly.

“Thank you, baby,” Minho says in a hum, low in his throat. It’s a tempting tone to use, but you scrunch your nose.

“Yeah, yeah. I have to get ready, now.”

It’s another hour before you actually leave the apartment, unable to dress quickly when his fingers pulled languidly on the zipper of your dress, using any excuse to press himself to your back and skate his lips behind your ear. And he insisted on helping you with your jewelry, making sure the gold necklace sat perfectly, holding your hands with care as he slid rings over your digits. 

Granted, now that the car is nearing the party venue, you may have misjudged his teasing touches. For how he sits next to you in the backseat, unrhythmically punching the leather underneath him. It’s clear that he is willing to stall in any way, if it means not having to face the lion’s den.

And what a den, it was. Long ago you decided to never question the strings that rich people could pull. But this doesn’t stop your mind from going over the possible accounts that could excuse why one 20 year old man was able to close the National Museum of Korea. You were taken to the front of one of many buildings where the party was taking place. There were a line of cars, as people of importance stepped out and walked the pathway littered with random paparazzi and photo ops. 

In probably the best way you can think to soothe him in this moment, you reach for his fist, giving it a quick squeeze until his hand unfurled, and you were able to slide your hand into his grasp.

Your car was quick to approach the front, and the driver quickly came out to open the door for you. Luckily, Minho’s face was the first any reporter would see, as he was the distinguished guest. The planner greeted him kindly, following you as well once you finally stepped out. She directed you, telling you that you guys could just go through, “but walk slowly”. 

Minho’s grip on your waist was tight, and you dare a glance to see if his expression was as apprehensive as his touch felt. Fortunately, he had mastered this stern yet soft look. Approachable enough for people not to automatically reject his presence. 

The tread to the front door was quick, and you know this is where the real horror starts. 

The fact of the matter is that, even with Lee Minho’s name plastered on South Korea’s best selling novel of “fiction”, he still did not have the power that came with being a part of one of the few clans that make up The True Elite. And the question is if his newly obtained status would garner him disgust or apathy?

Once you go through the doors, you pull him to the side so that the both of you can adorn your masks, now that enough people have seen his face to know he’s here. 

“This is not about Old or New Money, now,” you say. “We’re all anonymous. So try to enjoy the night.”

He nods, exhaling out a final breath of stress before turning to face the crowd, holding out his arm for you to take.

The lobby is pure brilliance, the windows on the ceiling that normally act as skylight shows a dark, navy sky. The warm lights illuminate the room, accentuating the cool marble walls and clean lines of the interior design. With a sea of masked individuals, you feel like you were transported in time. So many rich fabrics in hues of crimson, violet, and shadowed black move in front of your eyes. And the glints of diamonds, rubies, pearls, shine like their own stars strewn across delicate skin. 

Then there is Lee Minho, who seems to stand out in your eyes (but you might be biased). His suit is a mix of black velvet and sleek wool. Just as you accented your simple black gown with gold jewelry, he has done the same. His brown hair of light cool tones is slicked back, away from his forehead. And, of course, there’s always his lips. Shaped down and full, pouty, innocent, the skin is soft and silky to the touch. They’re always so inviting when you allow yourself to stare for so long. Before you know it, you’re already turning to stand in front of him. He watches your movements then, eyes previously on the grandiose room, now following the upward curl of your mouth as you reach further-

“Mr. Lee,” a voice calls, greets from behind you. You turn back, and even with his mask on, you recognize this young man.

Yang Jeongin was the youngest member of the Yang Clan, and one of South Korea’s precious baby boys. He recently got his braces removed, but even still, his jaw is a very memorable shape, and his white mask forms comfortable to the width of his cheekbones and sparkling eyes. He had been very vocal in public media about enjoying Minho’s novel, and is certainly one of the reasons said novel was able to span over a wide, diverse audience. 

“Ah, Mr. Yang,” Minho goes to bow, but Jeongin is quick to stop him, worry in those glittering brown eyes beneath his mask. 

“Oh, no! Please! You’re older than me, Mr. Lee. You don’t have to bow. I have to say, when Jisung told me he’d invited you, I was so excited. I’m kind of shocked this is our first time meeting since you published My Deal With The Devil.”

Minho smiles shyly, biting at his lower lip. “Well, after the book ranked, my manager, here, was quick to book me for some scheduled events to promote the book all over the country.”

At the mention of you, Jeongin looks at you with a wide smile that you’ve only ever seen in magazines and on the television.

“Yes! (Y/N), right? You’ve been working hard for your author.” He bows, and you mirror the gesture with a smile of your own. 

“He’s been very easy to manage.”

“I can imagine. Would you allow me to be your chaperone for the evening?”

The question is enough to take you and Minho off guard as you both share a look before turning back. 

“Surely, it should be the other way around,” you reply. “Who’s looking after the nation’s child?”

With such an infectious laugh, you can’t help but grin. “Actually, a lot of the clans’ youngests are chaperoning tonight. So it would be my honour.”

Again, you and Minho exchange a glance, simultaneously shrugging before looking back at the young man. 

“Point me to the finger foods, Mr. Yang,” you express animatedly. As Jeongin holds his arm out, you give Minho’s a firm squeeze before letting go. He doesn’t follow as Jeongin takes you to the table across the room, which seems like a good sign.

Little do you know, though, is that before he can follow, he’s already being pulled into another conversation. 

The night flows rather smoothly, you being happy to walk around, weave in and out of the crowd and smile at those that return the sentiment. Down the darkened hallway, there are open rooms where there would normally be digital galleries. From the lobby, it’s easy to see the coloured light that illuminates from each. Jeongin had explained to you that the birthday boy had the idea of theming the masquerade as The Masque of The Red Death, a piece of American literature you remember reading in your younger years.

“Aptly themed,” you had responded wryly.

So now you look at these rooms, wondering if you should visit them alone, or if you should try to find your date and go with him. The red room calls to you, however, and you decide then, with your heels numbed from your red stilettos, that you would visit just this one. The room that supposedly met the king to his inevitable death. 

“Is it you, Lee Minho?”

Minho swallows the champagne he’d been sipping at the sound of his name, once again. He was not expecting to be recognized so easily, or to hear of so many eager of his presence. Maybe you had been right, to some extent, about Old and New Money not being an issue of the night. 

The man that spoke to him wears red from head to toe. Red mask with black and gold lace, a ruby stud in one ear and gold chain lining the other, red shiny suit with gold cufflinks, and a gold ring that Minho knows has been passed down through this clan for generations. Han Jisung.

“Yes! And is this the birthday boy?” He bows, showing respect. Much unlike Yang Jeongin, Han Jisung carries himself with pride, as he does carry his title. “Happy Birthday, Mr. Han.”

“Thank you, thank you. I hope you’re enjoying the party. Truthfully, your novel was quite inspiring. It reminded me of the short story Edgar Allen Poe wrote, The Masque of The Red Death. You ever read it?”

Minho nods excitedly. “Of course! If Poe manages to escape the clutches of any middle school, it’s certainly a crime.”

When Jisung grins, his teeth are white, perfect, intimidating. Even though he stands an inch or so shorter than Minho, his attitude is overwhelming and spans skyscrapers. 

“How has life been since you returned from your promotion schedule? Are you taking time before writing the next novel? What would it be about, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Where could you have possibly been? Minho knows if you were here, you’d be the one answering these questions. And, really, it would be quite the show to see two prideful people as you and Jisung are in a heated discussion. 

“Ah,” Minho starts, trying to keep his tone even. Lions can smell fear. “Well, it won’t be an official continuation of My Deal With The Devil, but I’ve started writing about running-”

“Running?” Jisung tilts his head, lips forming in a pout along with what Minho is sure is confusion under his mask.

Your eyes do not take much time to adjust to the darkness of the hallway. The red lights had been encompassing, and your eyes could make out the waves of the light as they coated the walls. And the steady bass of the music playing coaxed up your legs, wrapping around your bare arms and shoulders, creeped up your neck like a hand ready to choke you. Is this what the humans would feel going into the red room? It wasn’t a haunting feeling, necessarily, but it did make you long to be around others again, to feel the light of laughter, to hold onto a familiar man and hear him groan in your ear.

You need to find Minho.

So you don’t let yourself embrace the spritely sounds of the people you walk past until you see the black and gold mask, the sputtering lips and hesitant smile. When you get into earshot, you hear him mention his novel, what he’s writing now.

“Running?” inquires the man in red.

“Excuse me, hello.” You interrupt slyly, immediately connecting yourself to Minho’s side in front of the man he speaks to. 

The man in red doesn’t seem offended by your unexpected presence. He smiles coolly, nodding in your direction.

“This is (Y/N),” Minho introduces, wrapping his arm around your waist. “She’s my manager. And the best person to discuss my future writings with, if I’m being honest.” Even if his words are even, you can feel his relief. “(Y/N), this is the man of the hour, Han Jisung.”

The light clicks, and you grin widely, gesturing in respect. “Prince Prospero himself. I hope you’re having a lovely birthday, Mr. Han.”

“Everyone is here beautifully, so yes, I am having a great night. I was just asking about Mr. Lee’s new story. The first work of fiction has left the country wanting to see his satiating words.”

“Since he’s still writing, the destination of where the next novel will end is really up in the air, at the moment.”

“Is there any possibility the manuscript could find its way over to Han’s Publishing House?”

Of course. Why hadn’t you seen this potentially coming before? The Han Clan has a variety of well-standing, successful industries taking inhabitants in Korea’s major cities. Han’s Publishing House was standing tall in the heart of Seoul, close to the Gold Towers that taunts civilians as well as give them hope. 

And as rising a success story as Lee Minho, of course the clan would have their eyes out for the pretty prize. 

You lick your lips, giving a calculated smile as your eyes pierce through your mask. “Unfortunately Lee Minho is signed with Bultaneun Peiji Publishing for the next four years. We’d mourn breaking such a contract so early, and it wouldn’t look good for Minho’s image.”

Jisung lifts his head slightly, letting you know he understands you. “Bang Clan’s publishing company, right. I don’t wish to speak ill of them. I have personally worked with the heir of Bang’s Clan, Chan. But given they’re a smaller company, it could be quite limiting.”

“On the contrary,” you start. “Since Bang’s heir was raised in Australia, it gives Minho the option to become international. That is, if he wishes.” If your presence hadn’t been an insult initially, your saccharine tone is assuring that Jisung’s feelings changed. “Besides, since Minho is, as you know, a novice to the publishing industry, having a more intimate community will allow him to grow strong and sturdy, like our pine trees that remain vibrant even in the harshest of conditions.”

Jisung’s eyes dart between you and the author at your side. In his contemplative silence, he observes the thumb that mindlessly rubs at your waist. Something seems to come to a realization for the young heir as he smirks.

“You two make a rather unsuspecting yet powerful pair, I must say. Maybe the world should know your name, as well, (Y/N).”

“I don’t have much interest in the spotlight. I’m more than happy to help uplift our Minho, so that his words can be read and mulled over.” You’re not sure if Jisung expected his epiphany to throw you off guard, but it’s satisfying regardless.

“Well, when you’re ready,” Jisung says, directing his words to the quiet Minho. “The Han Publishing House will have an offer for you. Until then, I will anticipate the works you come out with. Excuse me.”

You and Minho bow as the heir makes his exit, walking into the mouth of the hungry sea of anonymous partiers. 

“Why was that so tense?” Minho utters, moving to stand in front of you, his hand moving accordingly.

“I’m sorry. I should have known he’d try to snatch you away. I’m sure that wasn’t the only reason he invited you, but if his surname is anything to go by, he’s an opportunist like his family.”

From then, you hardly leave Minho’s side, dancing with him as the melodies of the live band play, some instrumental pieces, music not too loud so as not to over power the conversation going on. When you come close to the darkened hallway again, Minho pulls you along, taking you through the seven rooms.

Despite not having read the story for many years, every room reminds you of the words that were described. There aren’t many guests in one room at a time, and the seclusion puts you in the mood of intimacy. By the time you walk into the orange room, your ears are sensitive, just as your skin. The warmth of Minho’s fingers running up your arm is titillating, and you long to rid the slight obstruction your mask provides so that you can witness the young author in the vibrance of the orange light. This room has some static, possibly alluding the rooms to come, but it only adds to the growing desire to make like the waves on his face and touch everything.

“Let’s skip the white room,” you suggest softly. 

The blond acquiesces without delay as you leave orange, going straight to violet. In the room of purple tones, the gold of his mask stands brilliantly, alluring with the complementary tones. Is it wrong to say this is where he belongs? 

The music that surrounds you is threatening in a low way, like watching a scary movie and anticipating the monster to take the protagonist (and audience) by surprise. Except, nothing is a surprise here. This is where Minho belongs, and his wandering eyes make you realize who the monster is. Of course, you are where you’re supposed to be, with him, in this room.

With the desire growing rampant, you finally grab his neck, guiding his face until your lips connect in a kiss. It starts off harsh and bruising, desperate. But he’s pliable, and opens so easily, encouraging your wanton yearnings. 

“Seriously, (Y/N),” Minho heaves when he can pull away. “Right now?”

He’s right. You know he’s right. You contemplate a teasing remark because you’re never one to consent quietly.

“Maybe it’s time for us to make our exit. Shall we say our goodbyes to Mr. Han?”

Minho smirks. “I should probably go by myself. You go find Jeongin and pay our respects for both of us.”

“Sounds like a plan, baby,” you agree menacingly. 

As you leave, you pass by the final room, the scarlet room that sparked these urges. And once you get back to the lobby, you part ways with promises to meet at the front door.

Jeongin is one of the few wearing a white mask, so it’s fairly easy to find him. He’s currently standing by the open bar, holding a glass of red wine. It doesn’t make sense that he’s already old enough to drink. You make a joke of it once you stand by him.

“Ah, (Y/N)! I was going to come find you, actually. How are you and Mr. Lee fairing?”

“We’re just about to leave. I wanted to come by and let you know that you’re free of your chaperone duties.” This makes Jeongin chuckle, taking a sip of his wine before answering.

“Well, it was lovely meeting you and Mr. Lee in person, finally. I hope to see you guys in the future. Have a wonderful rest of your night.”

“You, as well, Jeongin.”

You turn to leave when you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Actually, (Y/N),” Jeongin stops you. “I almost forgot to tell you.” He lifts his mask off, leaning close so that he can speak low.

“Hyunjin says ‘long time, no see’.” For the first time, his grin doesn’t seem as innocent or friendly as you are used to seeing, more Cheshire. At your blank stare, he winks before putting his mask back down. And with a lift of his glass, you turn, making your way to the door.

You try to shake the unfamiliar feeling, trying to calm the hairs that stand on end. You don’t even want to think about how Jeongin could know that name, that person. Suddenly, the mysterious crowd that acted as a euphoric calm all night turns cold. You need to leave as soon as possible.

Seeing Minho at the entrance is a solace, and you school your expressions quickly so he doesn’t notice.

“Is my baby girl ready to leave?” asks Minho in that compelling tone.

In a scoff, you give a smile that reads icy. It’s always your favourite game to play with Minho, like he actually has any control, ever.

“Alright, Mr. Jeong,” you huff to the driver as you slide into the backseat with Minho following suit. You rip off the mask and meet the eyes of the unsuspecting driver. “If you don’t get us back to Gangnam in 40 minutes, you can start looking for another job.”

Minho is quick to diffuse the situation while he closes the car door. “No, you won’t, Jeong. (Y/N), behave yourself.” The delivery of his words are rough, but it only feels like one of many victories for you tonight.

You click your tongue, leaning so your face is mere inches from his. “It’s an hour long drive, and I have some class. I wouldn’t fuck you here without a partition.”

“If you had any class you would control yourself.” Rebuttals the annoyed author. He doesn’t dare to back down when you act in this manner.

Thus, you are the first to break, falling back onto the leather seat, folding your arms like a spoiled child that didn’t get their way.

“Take off that stupid mask,” is your only gripe.

With a chuckle, he does exactly that. “You were the one that picked it out. Now it’s stupid?”

“Duh, it’s covering up your face.” You fight the grin that forms when he coos at your unseemly compliment.

At the late midnight hour, the roads are rather clear, making the drive smooth and soothing. Just as you enjoy watching the highways from above, you like the sights that you can see while on them, looking up at the buildings with rooms lit for one reason or another. 

You’re not sure when it happened, but as the car wheezed through the cities, you find yourself with your back against Minho’s chest, his hands slow as they trace up and down your arms, tickling at your neck and tapping at your jaw. Your eyes are hypnotized by the blurring images outside the window while every caress takes you deeper into a headspace normally locked away. That was the pleasure of being half human, to be able to open parts of the mind that possibly would not exist as a demon. 

But the demon half is what allowed you to feel so strongly, to feel another’s energy and feed off such. Surely, humans can experience levels of pleasure that should almost be an abomination, but for demons, that’s exactly what it is. And you can indulge as much as you want, with a hunger that’s never completely satisfied. Moreso, it’s addicting.

Lee Minho is a drug, correct.

The time passes quickly, like the blur of the city at night. Soon you’re in the garage of your home, clambering out of the car before Mr. Jeong can even think of opening the door for you. As an apology, you thank him kindly, tugging Minho behind you as you get to the elevator.

Again, because of the late hour, everything is quiet, safe for the slide of steel as the lift drags you up and up until you’re close to the top, opening to the hall that leads to the suite. 

The apartment is dark since you hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights before leaving, so the windows show the stars of the metropolis, lit skyscrapers and buildings outside, streetlights in the far distance. 

“Do you need help with your dress?” Despite the question seeming genuine, you can feel his breath against your skin, as if you’re not already incredibly aware of every touch he sends your way.

The anticipation is a high of its own, and you become inebriated with the sparks that shoot up your spine.

“I can do it myself.” Before Minho can respond, you pull your heels off, already reaching behind you to pull the zipper down as you walk down the hall to the bedroom.

The structured bodice peels from your torso, and you breathe out easily, feeling free from the confines. Tossing the dress unceremoniously onto the bench sat at the wall by the door, you start on the jewelry, pulling off the pretty rings, taking off the necklace and earrings.

The bathroom light is the first one you have turned on since stepping foot into the apartment, the vanity illuminating so you can see yourself clearly. Everything seems to be intact, the makeup you made sure to thoroughly apply as well as the up-do hairstyle you selected for the night.

You can hear his footsteps as he enters the bedroom, and you make sure to keep your expression neutral as he leans against the bathroom doorway. You’re tempted to look as you hear his shuffling about, no doubt tearing off the tie he was wearing, already rid of his suit jacket, possibly unbuttoning the dress shirt...

Your body deceives you as you sneak a glance. Some of his perfectly styled hair has rebelled, falling on his forehead. There’s a predatory look to his dark eyes as he watches you intently, forceful with the way he unbuttons his cuffs first, then going for the buttons going down the shirt. 

But despite your heart racing and your nerves igniting, you calmly reach for the bottle of micellar water and cotton pads. The point isn’t to be thorough, but rather who will break first, and Minho is on his way to losing, just as he makes his way towards you, at the counter.

Whether he’s admitted it or not, he likes watching you in this manner; loves when you lean over the counter so you can make yourself prettier than you already are, likes when you pay attention to yourself.

“You’re so beautiful,” he makes sure to whisper into your ear, watching you through the reflection of the mirror. He knows he won’t get a reaction out of you. Is that considered masochism?

“I know,” you say, giving a pointed look at him. “But please, refrain from drooling on me so soon. I’m trying to freshen up a bit.”

“Cocky little thing, aren’t you?” teases the man behind you. Again, with his fingers, they touch at bare skin, toying with the lacey trim of your maroon underwear. It’s a stark contrast to the way he digs his nails into your hip. He knows you like the rough touches, like when he makes your body heat spike and sear his own skin.

“Baby, that’s what you love about me.” It’s a fact that you learned quickly. Satisfied with the majority of your makeup wiped away, you fall back on your heels, closing any space that lingered between your bodies. You move your hips slowly, making sure he feels you completely.

With one hand still ensnared on your hip, Minho takes his free hand to take your chin, turning your face up so he can kiss you deeply. 

Intoxicating is his essence, the way it flows like a potent aura off his skin. And his lips, those sweet, delicious lips, they bruise against your own until his teeth bare into your bottom lip. Soon enough you turn around in his grasp, let him move your body until you’re sat on the edge of the counter so your bodies can meet and connect like puzzle pieces. 

The silence of the penthouse could be deafening if it weren’t for the pounding bass of your own heart in your ear drums, or the wet smack that comes from your lips, or the pants that come when you both need oxygen. Your lips move to his jaw, and who knows if it was your legs wrapped around his hips that brought him closer, or if his strong hands on your backside, scratching bruises as he pulled you impossibly closer.

“God, (Y/N),” he groans, letting his head fall back as you continue your attack on his neck. You move your fingers to continue unbuttoning the shirt. “You don’t know what you do to me.” And again he jerks forward, as if you weren’t already feeling his hardening cock against your clothed core.

In a slip of control, your body heats uncontrollably, just as a shiver makes its way down your spine. You laugh freely, feeling your body ascend with electricity.

“But I do, sweetie.” You push the shirt away from his shoulders, and he tugs the sleeves off, tossing the fabric to the side. “That’s why I love making you this way.”

And you’re not the only one that likes it rough, if it wasn’t evident from the moan that comes from his throat when you rake your nails down his chest. He’s back on your mouth in an instant, tearing past the satisfied, breathless grin on your face. 

Your hunger leads you in a certain direction; slipping off the counter, you push him away long enough to get on your knees, already messing with the buttons and zippers of his slacks. This is what feels right, your body tells you. Energy buzzes through you as you mouth at the hard outline of his dick in his briefs. Never do you let an opportunity to tease him escape you. You can sense it, the way his aura spikes when you taunt him with pleasure. It makes him cum more sweetly and harder.

With a groan of your name, you finally push his briefs down, immediately wrapping your hand around his length. Your free hand slides up his thigh, and the muscle underneath jerks.

He’s afraid to look down, is always weak for the sight of you on your knees. His eyes are clenched shut while you give slow licks to the underside of his cock. 

“Look at yourself,” you command. “You always look so beautiful in bliss.” Even your tone sounds like velvet in his ears. It’s easy to obey.

With some pause, he finally blinks his eyes open. The man that stares back at him looks thoughtless enough, and he can’t even recognize the man as himself when his mouth opens for a guttural moan as you take him into your mouth.

A hand goes to your head, his fingers weaving into your strands as best they can before fisting. You wish you could see him more clearly, being truthful about loving the way he looks when he’s floating on a high of pleasure. 

Minho watches as the man furrows his brows just as all the heat pools into his stomach. He thinks he understands, whatever sane part of his brain is still working. 

He finds some reprieve as you pull off, still working your hand languidly. “What did I tell you?” you ask breathlessly. 

His eyes are completely black when he looks down at you, and if you weren’t already drinking in the cologne of his primitive desires, you would probably melt at the look alone. Instead, you decide to go back to your previous actions, working your tongue on his cock, swallowing around him, feeling the weight of him in your mouth. When he hits the back of your throat, it’s exhilarating, and it mixes well with the sting of his grip in your hair. It’s a fine line of who is in charge here, just like how you guys like it.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he pants, back to staring at the man in the mirror. The red flush that splatters on his chest is a sign of how his body burns, the precipice near. The moan gets stuck in his throat as he does cum, and you drink him happily, licking at his length as it twitches in overstimulation.

The come-down is just as much of a rush as the high. Crashing back to earth and feeling the weight of your body, it’s another pleasure in itself.

You stand quickly, making sure to sandwich your body between Minho and the counter as he leans forward. 

He nuzzles his face in your neck, finding your burning skin to be a comfort. You’re not entirely sure where you are, his touch still electrifying you even though the weight of his spirit settles in your own core. You should be satisfied, to some extent, but you still have the urge to crawl into his skin, to become one with him.

He grins into your ear. “Your turn.” It sounds like a threat, and his grip under your knee as he lifts your leg is stronger than you expect from someone that just came. 

You can’t think properly, seemingly stradling spaces in your head that leave you discombobulated. 

“Bedroom,” is the only word you can get out. You push away, leaving the bathroom first and turning on the lamp on the nightstand, giving just enough light for you to comfortably crawl into the bed.

“Hey, what was that demon’s name, the one I signed the contract with?”

You blink, the question helping clear your head some. “Uh...Hyunjin. Why?”

Hyunjin says, “Long time, no see.” Jeongin’s words play in your head menacingly. 

Minho’s fingers, still adorned in the gold rings he put on earlier tonight, make him look powerful, unstoppable. The hands he used to sign his soul away to a trickster of a demon, the hands that wrote of his adventure with said demon and played it off as fiction. Probably your second favourite thing to Lee Minho apart from his lips. The first time you met him, before he knew what you were, he smiled at you as if he hadn’t committed a single sin. Truthfully, even with your mission still fresh in your mind, a mission you’d done countless times before meeting him, you knew you’d allow yourself to falter, to let Minho slip through the cracks and enjoy the life he sold himself to. And you were going to reap the benefits alongside him. 

But unlike what Minho suspected you were put into his life for -to act as a spy or just a reminder that when he died, he’d spend an eternity bound to hell- you were actually put into his life to make it end quicker than he expected. 

One of those precious hands tap up your foot, petting at your ankle.

“Maybe I should thank him,” Minho thinks aloud with a sinister grin, wrapping firmly onto your ankle and pulling you closer to him. 

“Having you just made this life so much sweeter.”