Punch It | l. m.
➸ synopsis: there’s an unexpected opening for the leader position of Changbin’s street racing gang club. Naturally, Minho steps up, ready to fill in the role.
He didn’t expect anyone to challenge him, though.
➸ starring: lee minho x female reader(ft. idols from jypnation)
➸ word count: 5.1k
➸ general content: streetracer!minho, actual street racing, the reader and Minho are both too cocky for their own good, rivals to something more, unacknowledged sexual tension
➸ warnings: mild swearing, briefly mentioned alcohol consumption, reckless driving(it is street racing after all)
➸ rating: teen+
➸ author’s note: this is the first fic I posted that made me feel accomplished as a writer. at the time it was the longest thing I had ever written, and I wrote 4k of it in one day; something that was unheard of for me previously. I want this fic here as a reminder as to how far I’ve come as a writer. this was originally posted in 2021, though, so please understand that it is not up to par with my recent works.
♫ this fic has a soundtrack! you don’t need to listen to it while reading(especially if the lyrics will bother you), but dude. the vibes. the speed. we are breaking traffic laws in style.
yes, it’s meant to be listened to in that order. shuffling it will result in Minho cramming you into an air fryer for 20 minutes at 180 degrees.
♫- Sin City
“A shot of hard liquor please, skip the ice,” Changbin told the bartender, pointing towards his favorite brown bottle behind the counter.
“Woah woah woah- what about our rule?” Hyunjin said, raising an eyebrow while putting a hand on the older man’s shoulder.
“Yes I know the rule; I was the one who made it,” Changbin scoffed, swatting Hyunjin’s hand away. You guys may break a lot of rules on the daily, but catching a DUI? That was out of the question. Which is why this particular club was used for group meetups and pit stops only; touch a drop of alcohol and you won’t be getting back behind your steering wheel.
Changbin turned to face everyone, sitting at the curved bar with questioning looks on their faces.
“Which I guess brings me to the reason why I called for us to meet today,” he sighed, watching how the rest of the crew glanced between each other nervously. Everyone had been sort of tense upon arrival, since this was a Thursday night instead of their usual Friday meetups.
“I'm stepping down as leader.”
“WHAT?!” was the collective reaction of all twelve members, some slamming their palms on the counter as they abruptly stood up.
“Okay so you don’t need any liquor, clearly you’re already drunk,” Minho rolled his eyes, swirling the ice around in a glass of water on the bar counter.
“Oh I’m sober,” he sighed, taking his keys and wallet out of his pocket, and you could see the color drain from Minho’s face as he realized that this wasn’t some sick joke.
“But why,” Hyunjin piped up, playing with his driving gloves. “You’re the best leader we’ve had since I joined the gang.”
Everyone nodded in agreement; out of everyone that was there Hyunjin had been in the gang the longest, he would know better than anyone else.
Changbin was silent for a moment before he opened his wallet, taking out a small shiny Polaroid.
He slid it across the counter so the group could get a good look at it.
At the bottom, the name “Seo Chun Ja” was written hastily in black ink, along with a date that couldn’t have been more than a week ago.
In the photo was a woman that you had known by now to be his wife, but she was holding something in her arms on the hospital bed.
A baby girl.
Donning a knitted pink cap with yellow flowers, the child couldn’t have been bigger than Changbin’s forearm as she rested in her mother’s arms.
It only took a couple of seconds for everyone to register what was going on.
“You’re…you’re a father?!” You squealed, leaning farther over the counter to see the bundle of joy in his wife’s arms. You weren’t the only one surprised; Changbin preferred to keep his personal life private, and the only indication that most people had that he was even married was from the gold band on his left ring finger. He smiled fondly at the photograph before nodding, and took the photo back into his fingertips.
“How old is she?” Someone chimed from the other end of the group.
“Three days? Or maybe four,” he chuckled, sliding the photo back into his wallet. “I don’t know, I haven’t gotten much sleep since she made her grand entrance into the world.”
“Does she cry a lot?” Hyunjin asked.
“Yeah.”
“Yup, she’s a Seo alright,” Minho chuckled, raising his eyebrows before taking another sip of his water. Changbin yelled in annoyance as Hyunjin high fived the older boy, cackling wildly.
Congrats and thanks were shared across the bar for another minute before everyone slowly fell silent, taking in the gravity of the situation as the bass thrummed through the room.
“So…does this mean you’re not going to race anymore?” You said quietly, looking up at Changbin. He squinted his eyes before taking a deep breath.
“No, I’m not going to stop racing,” he started, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “I just don’t have the time for our weekly meetups, not until little Chun Ja can sleep through the night.” You nodded in understanding; racing while sleep deprived would be taking the fast track to heaven.
“And I mean…not that what we do is entirely life threatening, but the wifey is a bit worried that me barreling down the highway at 100 mph isn’t exactly keeping the family’s best interests at heart,” he chuckled nervously, taking the glass that the bartender slid to him and downing it in one go. “I’ll show up every once in a while though.”
“So who’s gonna be the next leader then?” Minho asked, finally putting his glass down.
Changbin threw the keys he had in his other hand towards the middle of the counter, and everyone’s eyes went wide.
Those were the keys to his favorite car, a sleek black 1993 Toyota MR2.
“Changbin, you drove that car here,” Hyunjin said, crossing his arms and tilting his head. “Who’s going to drive you home?”
“You will,” he grinned, and the tall boy slapped a hand to his forehead and groaned.
“I take back what I said about you being the best leader-”
“Shut it, pretty boy.”
“What do you even want us to do with those?” Yeji piped up, your favorite driving partner by far. Her hair was braided into one long platinum tail down her back, and although she used to race motocross, she picked up street racing because those types of bikes weren’t allowed on city roads.
Changbin cleared his throat.
“Since I’m not going to be racing all that frequently, I would hate to see my baby be locked up in a garage to rust away with my other SUVs, so…” he pushed the keys forward with his finger a bit more, “whoever thinks they’re the best driver, after me of course,” he snickered, and you could hear someone snort behind you. “Stand up and take the keys.”
Hyunjin and Minho stood up, but after glancing at Minho, Hyunjin sat back down, to which Minho chuckled to himself.
What Minho wasn’t expecting however, was for you to stand up too.
He stared at you in mild disbelief before looking away and scoffing.
“You’re kidding right?” He said, raising an eyebrow. You folded your arms, taking a defensive stance.
“I’m standing, aren’t I?”
Hyunjin took a sip of his virgin Shirley Temple and side eyed Yeji, who had the same mischievous look on her face.
“I test drove race cars for four years!”
“So?” Yeji chuckled, keeping her attitude at bay while fixing her gloves. “Y/n’s good. Like really good.”
“But doesn’t experience matter more-”
“Alright alright, calm down,” Changbin said, waving his hands while he grabbed the keys. He then swiftly tossed them to Minho, whose face lit up, then quickly fell after seeing Changbin shake his head.
“You know how we settle things around here, don’t you?”
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Automatic ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
The car rolled to a stop in between two streetlights, stopping at an intersection of an alleyway and a back road on the edges of the city. Minho leaned back in his seat, beginning to roll up the sleeves of his white button down shirt as you pulled up a stopwatch on your phone.
“And out of all the tracks we like to race,” he huffed, glancing at you, “why did you pick the track that I hold the fastest time for?”
“Simple,” you said quietly, propping your phone up on a vent clip.
“That way when I beat you, the look on your face will be priceless.”
His jaw dropped at your confidence, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find it the slightest bit attractive.
“Everyone’s tried to beat my record, even Changbin-”
“Not me,” you quipped.
“So you’re just gonna claim that you can right off the bat?” He scoffed, pulling the strap tight on his gloves.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“You’re-”
“Are you gonna drive or are we gonna sit here and bicker all night?” You cut him off, leaning towards him in your seat. “Because I can do both, but I’m sure the gang would love to know who won the race and not our argument-”
“Okay okay, sheesh,” he said, readjusting himself in the seat and taking the car out of park.
The rules were simple. One lap around downtown on the usual track, no shortcuts, no shenanigans, and no cheating of any kind, such as distracting the driver. It was late enough as is so there would be no pedestrians or traffic, not that this part of town was particularly busy at any time of day. The track took a little more than a minute if you were an experienced street racer, but for Minho, his time to beat was fifty-six seconds.
“Start the clock whenever you’re ready,” he mumbled, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. He was mad, you could tell. You found that hot, which you hoped he couldn’t tell.
“Three-”
He trained his eyes on the road.
“Two-”
He revved the engine twice. The little show off.
“One-”
He clicked the car into first gear, and you barely registered yourself pressing the start button and yelling “GO!” before the blaring sound of the engine roaring to life filled your eardrums.
You were both pressed into the back of your seats as the car zoomed forward, turning the small dots of light in the streets into streaks while the black rocket whizzed by.
A sly grin grew on his face as he upshifted twice, and after a few seconds he was well over the speed limit, not that any police officers lingered around this side of the city.
He knew this road like the back of his hand. Every pothole, every crack, anything that would slow him down he knew just how to avoid it. Even when he approached sharp turns, he knew just when he had to start downshifting, and even that was seamless.
Calculated.
Precise.
Completely and utterly predictable.
Everything he is and everything you aren’t.
He rounded a corner perfectly and kept shifting gears until he was tearing down the now not-so-quiet street at 70 mph, tapping on the clutch as if he was trying to match the beat of a song. At this speed, he was going to beat his previous record out of spite.
Outside of the constant roar of the engine, things were dead silent inside the car. Minho was too busy concentrating on the road to speak, and you were analyzing his every move, not that there was much to analyze. He never made any mistakes.
Which is why when he zoomed by the starting streetlights with a record time of fifty-four seconds, you were anything but surprised.
“What’s my time?” He huffed, relaxing into the seat as his chest heaved.
“Fifty-four seconds.”
A pleased grin made its way onto his face before replacing itself with a smug smirk, Minho tilting his head as he turned the car off.
“I’m the best you’ve ever seen, admit it.”
“No thanks,” you replied, unlocking the door and stepping out of the car. “I’ve looked in a mirror before.”
Your heels clicked around the front of the car as Minho got out, shaking his head while he held the door open. Stopping in front of the open door, you nodded your head to tell him to get to the other side of the car so you two could get this over with, but he just looked down at the seat and back at you, waiting for you to step in. You reluctantly sat down and he closed the door behind you before walking across the front.
So he is a gentleman, you thought to yourself while pulling the Velcro on your gloves.
And a handsome one at that, was a thought that you quickly shooed away, not liking how your eyes admired the way the streetlights hit his face for a split second before he got back in the car.
You both buckled your seat belts and he cleared the timer on your phone, opening a fresh stopwatch log and waiting for you to look at him.
But you didn’t, you only tapped impatiently on the steering wheel with a manicured nail.
After a few seconds of tense silence you spoke up.
“What are you waiting for?” You gave him an annoyed side eye.
“Aren’t you going to tell me when to go?”
“Okay, go.”
“What-”
“Go!”
You switched the car out of park and straight into first gear, making him shriek and start the timer while you snickered. The car barreled down the street, picking up fallen leaves and rattling trash cans with the engine alone.
You reached over to your left side and pressed a button, lowering all of the windows in the car at once, and Minho looked at you in disbelief.
“Do you not care about the drag you’re gonna get from that?” He yelled over the roaring wind.
“Not one bit.” You grinned, fixing the rear view mirror with your right hand.
It was at this point that Minho realized that he had never been in a car while you were behind the wheel, and his hand instinctively held on to an interior handle while you upshifted again. His heartbeat started to pick up as he noticed that you didn’t downshift, in fact whereas he usually would be two gears lower by now, you upshifted again and he held the handle tighter.
“Y/n,” he began calmly, looking at the speedometer, “do you see that turn up ahead?”
“Uh huh,” you yelled, holding the steering wheel with both hands now.
“Are you not going to slow down?!” He suddenly yelled, frightened at the calmness in your voice.
“Why would I do that-”
“To keep us ALIVE?!” He screamed, grabbing onto the middle console. “Because that’s how you handle turns?!”
You quickly looked behind you before pushing yourself far back into the seat, pressing your heeled foot a little bit further onto the acceleration pedal.
“This is how you handle a turn.”
Everything seemed to move in slow motion as you spun the wheel to the left just before you hit the corner, and you and Minho were suddenly pressed into the right sides of your seats, the centrifugal forces taking over the black vehicle. The wind whistled through Minho’s window as the sound of tires skidding along the pavement filled the street, and just as he got a grasp as to what was happening, you spun the wheel the other way, realigning the car with the road ahead before you slammed on the acceleration.
And that’s when it hit him.
You were a drift racer.
And you didn’t slow down at all that entire turn.
You screamed in delight, almost as loud as the engine did as you tore up the street, the car swerving left and right as you drifted around nearly every corner, barely pausing to downshift or brake at all. You kept your mischievous eyes on the road, both hands on the wheel, and your foot on the acceleration the whole time.
Minho, in a panic, glanced at the stop watch after you shredded your way through a hairpin turn.
Thirty-eight seconds.
Oh my god, she’s going to beat me.
The final turn of the course approached quickly, thanks to your apparent resentment to using the brakes, and Minho started to grip the center console again, but instead of drifting around it like you usually did, you held onto the gear shift, pulling it towards you in succession just like he did when he drove. You shot him a wink before you rounded the corner, and his heart raced, but no longer out of fear.
The starting streetlight shot by you and you didn’t even bother to slow down, glancing at the stop watch to see that it read forty-seven seconds before taking the route that led to the highway.
“Where are we going?” He yelled, frantically putting his window back up, and you followed suit.
“Back to the club, silly,” you responded, before upshifting one last time.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Break From Toronto ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
You pulled the life out of the car with a twist of the keys, killing the engine before turning it over in your hands. The once shiny Toyota symbol was now faded to a dull gray, and many of the markings for the lock buttons were missing.
“Why...why didn’t you drift on the last turn?” Minho finally spoke up, looking at you while his chin rested in his palm. “You would have gotten a faster time-”
“I don’t care about records Minho,” you stated, undoing the Velcro on your gloves. “I already knew I was going to beat you, that was just to show off.”
You swiftly unbuckled your seatbelt and got out of the car, stepping into the parking lot which was mostly empty by now, and he slowly did the same. He was still mostly in shock, lacking comebacks and sass just because he couldn’t process that he had lost.
Walking across the front of the car, Minho approached you with a hand outstretched, wanting to keep good sportsmanship despite his colossal defeat. You gladly accepted it, closing your hand around the keys you were twirling and offering it to firmly shake hands with him.
“They’ll have a good leader,” he said, nodding his head slightly.
“I don’t doubt that for a second,” you replied, before taking his hand and pressing it to his chest.
The keys to Changbin’s car fell into his hands as he looked between you and them, confused.
“But...you won,” he whispered, turning the key over in his hands.
“Damn right I did,” you chuckled, “but I don’t really want to be the leader, and besides, his car doesn’t have a Bluetooth radio, and I don’t feel like switching it out.”
He furrowed his eyebrows in shock, trying to come up with a response.
“So what do I tell them then?”
“Whatever you want Lee, I don’t care,” you said, stepping closer to him. His breath caught in his throat as you paused, looked him up and down, then straight into his eyes.
“You can tell them I lost, but we both know who the fastest racer in this city really is.”
And with that, you spun on your heels, walking towards your car as Minho stood there, dumbfounded.
“You’re going home?”
“Yeah,” you called back to him, “I’ve had enough excitement for one night.” Your heels clicked away at the pavement and Minho couldn’t help but watch, trying to make sense of the strange whirlwind of emotions in his stomach.
“Oh and uh...a word of advice,” you laughed, turning back to look at him, “you’d be a lot more enjoyable without that pole up your ass.”
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Early ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
“Sheesh,” Hyunjin swooned, trailing his fingers over the black exterior of the vehicle, assessing its every curve. “This car is sexy.”
Minho sat on a bench on the curb, trying to let the bass from inside the club soothe his mind as he held his head in between his hands.
“Ugh and it even matches my hair- if I had this car, I’d never bleach my hair again,” he sighed dreamily, adjusting a rear view mirror so he could look at himself. “Imagine showing up to parties in this baby, and-”
Hyunjin paused, narrowing his eyes at his best friend on the bench, who had barely said a word since he walked into the club and declared himself as the new leader.
“-and why do I get the feeling that I’m more excited about this car than you?” He said, trading his grin out for a concerned pout as he joined Minho on the bench.
“Because...I don’t deserve it,” Minho said slowly, staring at the license plate.
“Are you kidding?” Hyunjin scoffed, looking at the other in disbelief. “You’re the best racer that I know! Of course you deserve it, you wo-”
“She won.”
Hyunjin tilted his head, letting a small nervous chuckle escape his lips.
“What?”
“Seven seconds Hyunjin,” he began, standing up and rubbing his face with his hands. “That’s how much she beat me by.”
Hyunjin’s face went pale.
“That’s...that’s impossible,” the taller boy whispered to himself, and Minho laughed bitterly at that statement, reminding him of what he had thought earlier that night.
“Not for a drift racer, apparently!”
Minho turned around, facing the other who had shock written all over his face.
“Have you seen that woman drive?!” He practically yelled, and Hyunjin stopped to think.
“Come to think of it, no,” he realized, looking up at his friend. “She’s always helping Yeji learn the ropes when we go on our group drives, so they carpool-”
“Well you should watch her drive,” he continued, more hysterical laughter spilling from Minho’s lips, “she’s reckless, and she doesn’t slow down, and she drifts around every corner, and she drives with the goddamn windows down, and in the last hour she’s made me question everything I ever knew about street racing!” He paused to take a deep breath.
“I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“She’s that good?”
“God, she’s incredible,” he confessed, leaning against the side of the car. “And she could have lowered her time too; at the last corner of the race she downshifted almost perfectly, and didn’t drift because ‘that was just to show off.’”
Hyunjin started laughing, for it wasn’t often that he got to see Minho all riled up about something...or someone.
“Never,” Minho spat, “never in my eight years of driving have I ever met anyone with the audacity to-”
“Minho! Minho Minho Minho,” Hyunjin chuckled, getting up off the bench to stand in front of a wide-eyed Minho, placing his hands on his shoulders.
“Hey,” he gave him a knowing smile, “it’s okay to have a crush-”
“Yah! Does everyone have to be drunk these days?” He yelled, pushing the younger one off of him as he opened the car door to get in. Hyunjin collapsed to the ground, lost in a fit of giggles among the asphalt.
“Call me when you want to talk about your feelings,” he swooned, erupting into laughter again before Minho slammed the door, shaking his head.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧ ♫- Get It, If You Let Me ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
The highway seemed awfully quiet as Minho zoomed along the shoulder, watching the street lights flicker through the car like a broken headlight as he let his mind wander. This night had taken more turns than the Le Mans race track, and he was way overdue for some sleep.
He sighed, looking through the windshield, and as he shifted his vision he noticed something amiss on one of the vents.
You had left your phone.
You must have forgotten to put it back in your bag, and Minho cursed at himself for forgetting to take it out and give it to you.
Then again, he was apparently desperately needing driving lessons, specifically the ones where you learn to drift.
Minho slowed down, coming to a stop at a red light as he pondered his decision. He knew where your house was, and knowing you, you’d still be awake, thanks to the countless times he had muted your endless chatting with Yeji in the group chat.
He was definitely too arrogant earlier. Would you even be willing to accept an apology or give him a second chance?
The light in the left lane flickered to green, letting an absolute lack of drivers make left turns and U-turns back into town, and Minho’s grip on the steering wheel tightened once again.
To hell with this.
He slammed on the acceleration, crossing the three empty lanes between the shoulder and the left turn lane before making a U-Turn, and nothing had felt more right than when he grinned and shifted the car into second gear.
Only one thing left to do now I guess, he thought to himself.
Punch it.
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
“You should have seen the look on his face,” you practically squealed, kicking your legs up off the couch while trying not to spill your glass of wine. “The man was going to pee himself!”
“I know I nearly did the first time I rode with you,” Yeji chuckled, unscrewing the oil cap with a click. “H-Hey, I got it to come off!”
“Good!” You sat up on the couch, suddenly focused. “The oil is coming out black right?”
“Yeah...it’s kinda gross,” she drawled.
“Make sure you empty it all the way-”
Your train of thought was broken by the low rumble of a familiar engine on your street, slowly pulling into your driveway. You squinted your eyes in concentration, trying to identify who was at your house at this hour as Yeji confusedly called your name through the landline.
“Yeji? Are you going to be up for a while?” You said suddenly, holding the receiver up to your face again.
“Yeah...I have a couple more things to fix,” she said, and you heard the sound of a wrench clattering to the floor through the receiver. “Why?”
“I think Minho is at my house.”
“Ooooooooh-”
“Shut up, I’ll be right back,” you laughed, and then swiftly hung up, just in case this took longer than you expected.
You walked up to one of the windows near the driveway, lifting up one of the blinds to see if your suspicions were correct, and they were; Minho got out of his new car, shoving the keys into his pockets before closing the door behind him.
One glance into a mirror and you realized the absurdity of this situation.
You had quickly ridden yourself of the glittery makeup and cute outfit in favor of pajamas as soon as you got home, and here he was walking up to your door, still looking as sharp as he did earlier that night.
Good thing you didn’t care what he thought of you.
Mostly.
A hand through the hair would have to suffice for now.
He stepped up to your door, contemplating whether a knock or doorbell ring would be better, but you quickly erased both options, opening the door as soon as he stood on the welcome mat.
“I knew you’d be back but…” you looked him over and smiled, “...not this soon.”
He only responded with a light chuckle before pulling your phone out of his dark wash jeans.
“I wasn’t planning on being here like this but this was left in my car,” he said, holding it up to his face. “Figured you’d want it.”
You hummed, nodding in thanks and quirking an eyebrow.
“But…?”
“But what?” He laughed nervously.
“But no man in their right mind would drive to some chick’s house just to give her something that could have waited until the next morning,” you tilted your head in amusement and swirled the wine in your glass. “Unless you’ve come to apologize.”
“For?”
“Um, underestimating me?”
“Oh yeah, that,” more nervous laughter fell from his lips. “Sorry about that.”
“And the arrogance.”
“And the arrogance,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.
“Cool. So now that that’s out of the way,” you whispered, putting your glass on a table inside near the door, closing the door behind you and leaning against it, “why are you really here?”
His eyes widened, clearly not prepared for you to have read him so easily.
“I…” his hands fumbled with the edges of his rolled up sleeves as he tried to get his thoughts together. After a few seconds of silence he dropped the act, relinquishing his cool demeanor.
“Back there, when you were driving,” a slow look of astonishment spread across his face, “how did you do that?”
“Do what? Drift?”
“Yeah.”
“You want to be a drift racer?”
“Not necessarily,” he explained, “it's just...we should have flipped over- I don’t get how you did that.”
“All I did was let the weight of the vehicle drive the car instead of me,” you said, nodding towards the hunk of metal on your driveway. “If you’re driving fast enough, turning sharply will make the car drift; the back wheels will try to swing to the front and centrifugal force and whatnot.”
Minho visibly winced.
“To put it simply, it’s about controlling a lack of control.”
“How is that safe?”
“It’s not,” you laughed, then turned serious. “Not that anything we do is safe.” He just blinked at you, trying to process what he was supposed to do with this information.
“Minho, on average, how much do you lower your record every time you attempt to beat it?”
“Uh,” he squinted his eyes. “I don’t know, like a half second maybe? Why?”
“You do the same thing every time don’t you?”
“Why does that sound like a bad thing coming from you?” He chuckled nervously, shifting on his feet.
“Well then it’s no wonder how I beat your record so easily,” you cackled, “you’ve basically optimized your route; to you, nobody can beat it, because nobody is going to try anything different.”
“Where are you going with this?” He tilted his head, assuming a defensive stance.
“You can’t get better unless you try something new.” You deadpanned, looking him straight in the eyes. “In other words, you can't beat me until you quit being so scared.”
“I’m not scared!” He retorted.
“You basically tried to become Mariah Carey when I drove!”
He opened his mouth to snap back, then for his own safety, decided not to.
“Look, I get it,” you said quietly, “losing control in a car while you spin in a metal box isn’t everyone’s idea of fun-”
“Not when you put it like that-”
“But,” you chuckled, and the sparkle in his eyes returned, “because I know how this is going to keep you up tonight-”
“I’ll sleep just fine, thank you,” he laughed, folding his arms.
“I’ll give you one tip, for free.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“Loosen up,” you said, giving him a light shove, and he stumbled backwards slightly. “Otherwise you’ll be stuck at fifty-four seconds.”
He just watched you turn to leave before you added, “I’ll be at the giant abandoned parking lot past downtown tomorrow night with Yeji, in case you want a lesson or something.” And with that you stepped behind your door, flashing him a smile before closing the door.
Minho stood there, blinking hard and trying to regulate the erratic beating of his heart before you opened the door again, giving him a strange look.
You pointed at him and raised an eyebrow, and he looked down to where your finger was pointed.
“Oh, right,” he chuckled, handing you your phone and you laughed, taking the device from him.
“Goodnight Minho,” you whispered before closing the door again, not giving him time to respond.
Your ability to make him speechless was getting out of hand.
Something tells me I’m supposed to get used to this…
“...goodnight.”
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧
Punch It
a lixiesfreckles_ production
cast(in order of appearance)
Seo Changbin as the only one with a life
Hwang Hyunjin as the drama
Lee Minho as the obvious choice
Hwang Yeji as the best friend
in memory of my old self. you had no idea what you'd be capable of one day.
do not copy or repost. all rights reserved.
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