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ultralightpoe · 3 days ago

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Slim Pickens - Tyler Owens

Authors Note: Not me writing this smut on election day..... anyways enjoy! Cause I have no clue what happened to me.

Word Count: 5080

Warnings: SMUT, stranger tryna get laid and Tyler not having it.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @chrishemsworthsbitch ]

Enjoy!

“Guess I'll end this life alone

I am not dramatic

These are just the thoughts that pass right through me”

There was a simple saying that been passed down from generation to generation, and you knew it all too well.

‘No use crying over spilt milk’.

Your grandma used to say it whenever you had boy problems back in middle school and your mother took up the saying when you went on to middle school and in both of these stages in your life you hadn’t quite understood what they meant.

Now, sitting cross legged on Tyler Owens hotel floor as he repeated those very words to you, you knew them all too well. And by the look of his smug smile in your direction as he got ready for the day you knew he knew his words struck a nerve.

“Now don’t get cranky at me, sweetheart.” He warns, pointing at you as he kicks his boots closer to the bed so he can sit on the end of it to put them on. “I warned you he wouldn’t be worth it last night when you left.”

The ‘he’ in mention was some guy named Jake that you had matched with on Tinder last night, and who you had dumbly agreed to meet up with. It had been a long week of storm chasing and dealing with Tylers crappy music in the truck and you just wanted to relieve some pressure.

“He quoted shakespeare.” You try to defend only for him to laugh at you.

“You sleep with every guy that quotes shakespeare?”

“Guys who quote Shakespeare are hotter than guys who haven’t touched a book in their life!” You snap back. “And-”

“It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” He interrupts, shoving his feet into the boots with a small look in your direction. But you were too focused on staring at the floor from exhaustion.

“Mkay Yoda.” You sigh and his hands fly up in the air from lack of belief.

“Seriously?”

“And I mean he was hot.” You continue, falling back to lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling as he finishes with the boots and moves to get his bag together. “Honestly he kind of reminded me of you. But then he had to talk. And he just kept ruining it.”

“How so?”

“He was all ‘You ever seen a jet, Sugar’? And can’t forget ‘There is almost nothing better than the high feeling of flying through the air….almost.’ And it was-” You finish off the sentence with a loud groan as you slap your forehead making him laugh.

“Did he not know what you do for a living?”

“Oh, you mean chase storms and kill them? No. Why would he? That would involve him asking me a question.” You seethe before Tyler comes into view, standing over you with that smug smile you hated and loved so much.

“Alright, come on Sugar. It’s time to go.”

“Tyler, I’m gonna die alone.” You groan, closing your eyes before covering your face. He is having none of it though, reaching down to grab at your forearms, hauling you up with an ease that makes your skin flush. His hands are warm on your skin and the way his thumbs circle your flesh has images of your nasty daydreams flashing through your mind.

“Enough of that mopin’. We got storms to chase and I ain’t got time to tell you that you’re never gonna die alone.”

“Cause you don’t believe it?”

“No, cause the chances of us dyin’ in a tornado together are far more likely.” He laughs, deep and throaty as he leans down to scoop you up by the waist, taking a second to slap at your back thigh before exiting the hotel. “Cate will also kill us if we’re late again.”

“All the douchebags in my phone

Play 'em like a slot machine

If they're winnin', I'm just losin'”

“Not to be that guy…” Tyler starts, his voice already filled with annoyance. “But is now the time to be checking your phone?”

His hands were tight on the wheel as the truck raced through the fields, efficiently tracking down the storm that had caught Cate’s eye. And while you normally took the passenger seat next to Tyler after fighting with Boone for it so that Cate could take her own ford with Javi, today she had taken the seat and you were in the back with Boone who was just as upset by losing his special spot next to Tyler.

It had been a rough day, between realizing one of the cars were completely broken down in the hotel parking lot and Boone nearly breaking his pinkie while trying to fix it. Let’s just say the hood of the truck came down a little too fast. Not only that but you had gotten stuck in the bathroom of your room until Tyler had to come save you in your towel, treating you like you were plague victim number one ever since.

But the best part of the day so far? The introduction to Scott loservains new team, conning poor victims one at a time.

“Hey man, I’m tracking our filming.” Boone argues, already offended.

“I’m making sure Javi has the same stats as us.” Cate argues.

“Not talking to either of you. I’m talking to little miss lovestruck in the back.”

“Hey!” You snap, immediately closing your phone. “Mind your business Tyler.”

“You’re in my truck. My truck is my business and everyone in the truck is my business.” He snaps back, shrugging his shoulders. “And besides, the more you let those fools win the more you lose.”

“How do you even know I was texting a guy?”

“Because Sugar, I know you.” He snaps, casting you a quick look from his spot at the wheel before turning back to the road.

“I think if you focused less on me then you would be able to drive better.”

“I think if you focused less on the boys in your phone you wouldn’t be bitchin’ and moanin’ at me all the time!” He snaps back making you gasp as Cate and Boone switch their attention back and forth between you both.

“Should we be worried?” Cate blurts, landing her gaze on you with her eyebrows pinched together in worry.

“Not unless Tyler can’t learn to mind his own damn business!”

“I’ll mind my business when you stop makin’ it my business!”

“FINE!”

“A boy who's jacked and kind

Can't find his ass to save my life”

The bar that sat 3 blocks away from the current hotel the team was staying at could only be described as a dingy cowboy bar, and considering you were mad at a certain cowboy this was the perfect place. Surrounded by dozens of cowboy hats, none of them belonging to ‘Mr. Can’t Mind His Own Business’.

He currently stood at the other end of the bar, closer to the live band as the dance floor began to fill with line dancers. Even that far away he was still being a pain in your ass with the way he glared across the floor every time you looked over.

“You two don’t fight a lot. This is weird for you.” Cate chuckles, spinning her bottle of beer on the counter sat in front of you both, hearing the glass ring on the wood of the counter. “It sends the entire vibe of the group off.”

“It’s his fault.” You huff, scratching at the label of your own bottle as you avoided looking in his direction again. “I honestly don’t know where his freakout came from.”

“You don’t?”

“No!” You huff, slapping your hands on the counter. “We were fine yesterday, I told him about that date with the aviator-”

“Oh that Jake guy. He was kind of cute.”

“Thank you. Anyways-” You take a quick inhale of air before looking at her. “We were fine and then today he was fine when he came to help me out of the bathroom but the second the door to the bathroom opened he got pissy.”

“Do you know why?”

“No, I assumed he had been getting hounded by everyone all day. He must have been stressed.”

“Hmm.” She hums out, taking a look around the bar as you sit and mope. “I’m sure you both will get over it soon enough.”

“Slim chance. I am gonna ignore him forever now.” It’s obviously just you being over dramatic but you were angry and embarrassed that he would call you out like that in front of the group. “Besides, if he didn’t want me talking to him about all that boy stuff he should have just told me. I don't know where his boundaries lie unless he sets them.”

“Damn, that’s deep.” She nods before tilting her head. “They should have put you on the shirt.”

“That’s what I said.”

“And yet they-”

“Excuse me for interrupting ladies…” A new voice joins the group, making you both turn to the figure. A tall man with bruises along his jaw and a scratch right above his eyebrow. A black cowboy hat paired with a black shirt. A fine specimen if you could say so. “I just saw the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life and I had to come say hello.”

“Well would you be pickin’ here?” Cate smiles.

“There is no wrong answer.” You hum out, tilting your head like a cat assessing prey.

“Then can I say both?”

“Oh, look at that. Even with a map leading to the answer he still managed to mess it up.” You snipe, giving Cate a knowing look as you both grab at your bottles of beer and move to make your exit.

“Wait wait.” He reaches a hand in front of you to try and stop you from passing. “Not a great start. I know that. So let me just start over, yeah?”

“Oh… I didn’t realize I did do overs.”

“Then what can I do to be granted one?”

“Is there a problem here?” Leave it to Tyler Owens to enter this scene, giving his best glare as he inserts himself between you both with his back to you so he can glare down the cowboy.

“There is no problem here.” The cowboy smirks, and you are shocked to see just how brave he was. Then it clicks, the bruises and the hat. This was a bull rider. “You got a problem, bud?”

“Oh yeah I have-”

“LET’S DANCE!” You interrupt, sending a glare to Tyler before pulling the bullrider to the floor as Tyler rolls his eyes.

Before you can make it too far his hand reaches out to grab your elbow with a knowing look, and even when he is mad he still holds your arm with a gentle ease and traces the skin with his thumb. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Well that’s interesting…. Cause it’s MY business!” You scoff, pushing his arm back and moving to the dance floor with the stranger.

“Oh, it's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

It was only fair, since there weren’t many options of men you would just lower your standards and have fun with this idiot for the night.

He had two left feet, and was pressed against you the entire time but not in a hot way, more so a sweaty mess kinda way. And you would have abandoned him already but every time you looked for an escape you saw Tyler and his glare, there was too much at stake here. You could never admit Tyler was right. In YOUR business.

So you ignored him and turned back to the stranger, just in time for this waste of space to press his lips to yours. It was awkward, the way your noses pressed together and how hard he smashed his lips to yours. There was no rhythm, no preparation or molding together. It was just his lips devouring your face as you tried to lean back. But the further you tried to get away the more he leaned with you.

When he pulls back he keeps his hands on you with a sharp smile. “Wanna go back to your place?”

There wasn’t many options, and the one option you truly wanted would never happen let alone the fact that you were fighting with him so you would make do with what you had. “Sure, let’s go.”

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

Telling Cate that you were heading out with him was easy, she made you promise to update her that you were okay, which was easy to do. You managed to avoid any conversation about Tyler in his truck, which was hard because Mr. Bull Rider was dead set on asking about him.

“What was that guy with white hats problem?” He asked, and you changed the conversation to the music he was playing. Then he tried the “You guys ever date or somethin’?”

That one was harder to change since your throat got clogged up thinking of the answer. It’s not like you never wanted to date Tyler, in fact he was all you dreamed of. But it wasn’t meant to happen. Tyler wasn’t yours.

So you simply started giving him directions to the motel like he hadn’t asked. And by the time you made it to the destination you had hoped that the conversation had passed as you unlocked the door.

“This is it. Home sweet home….. For a little.” You smile, allowing him to look around while you take your shoes off.

“So you live in a motel?”

“When it’s tornado season, yes. We travel around but when he find a specific spot we try to stay.”

“You follow tornadoes?”

“Yes, and we chase them. And if there is destruction we try to help out the communities.” You explain, picking up the tornado shirt with Tylers face on it so you can show him then debate it at the last second you drop it down. “It’s fun.”

“I’ll bet.” He nods before allowing himself to sit on your bed. “We doing this?”

“Oh. Straight to the business.” You mumble, a little shocked as he begins unbuttoning the black top.

“Sorry, did you want to talk or something?”

“Well no- I just-” You couldn’t tell if you were thankful that the door opened in that second or absolutely furious as Tyler appeared with that fake innocent smile.

“Hey Sugar,” He starts, letting himself in fully and shutting the door. “I just wanted to come make sure that bathroom door was all taken care of for ya’.”

“Tyler, is now the time?”

“Oh, please. It’ll only take a minute.” He chuckles, walking past you both to get to the door. “Wouldn’t want you getting stuck in there again.”

“Tyler, what on eart-”

“Hey man, we were kinda in the middle of something here.” Stranger boy snaps out, scooting so he was right on the edge of the bed, his face pinched between confusion and anger.

“Hey, safety first.” Tyler laughs, the sound fake and bitter as he leans down to check the hinges of the door while you just blink in shock. “Ah I see the problem here.”

“Tyler.” You hiss.

“Just give me a moment.” He murmurs, working on the hinge of the door while you glare. “Just a minute……”

“Dude.” Stranger boy sighs and you are wound between shock, anger and embarrassment.

“I can’t believe this is happening,.”

“There she is. Good as new.” Tyler smiles, standing to swing the door. “Look at that. Bet you’re glad I did it.”

“Tyler. Out.” You snap, moving forward to grab parts of his shirt to drag him out the door and slam it on him. “Now where were we?”

But it’s no use, since the door reopens with Tyler giving yet another innocent look. “Oh, sorry to interrupt. I forgot my screwdriver here.”

“Tyler, grab it and then leave. And leave the key.” The fact that you were even in this moment was so bizarre.

“Actually, I think I’m gonna get going… but let me write my information for when you get rid of dumbass barbie over here.” Stranger cowboy mutter, grabbing the pad of paper from the desk and writing his stuff down before moving forward to attempt to kiss you but Tyler is there, patting him on the back aggressively with a slight shove.

“Sorry to see you go bud.” He smiles, a tense and angry smile before throwing an arm around your shoulder. “But we’ll be fine here.”

And you watch the bullrider leave, the door shutting before you whirl on him.

“Jesus, what's a girl to do?

This boy doesn't even know

The difference between "there," "their" and "they are".”

“I can murder you.” You seethe, shoving his arm off of you and taking a couple steps away from him. “Matter of fact, what’s stopping me from doing so?”

“I just figured you might want help with the door-”

“Enough with the bullshit Tyler Owens!” You yell, whirling on him with your hands on your hips and a heavy glare. “What on earth were you thinking? After your fit today and that scene I’m starting to think you have lost your damn mind!”

“Hang on now-”

“And what on earth-” You take a moment to snatch up the pillow from the motel bed to swing it at him. “WOULD MAKE YOU INTERUPT-”

“HE WAS TERRIBLE!”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” You yell. “Look around for a second Owens! There aren’t many options. The ones that are worth it are already taken, the one that I want would never go for me. I don’t have many options!”

“AND WHEN AM I GONNA BE AN OPTION?!” He yells out, grabbing your wrists before you can hit him with the pillow again. “When do I get the chance to prove myself?”

“Oh stop.” You snap, moving to walk away. “Don’t mess with me about this.”

“Why would I be messing with you? Is it so hard to believe that I want you?” He follows, making sure to keep a hand on you. “Time and time again you rant to me about these men, how they suck and you hate them. And I keep waiting for you to notice me, to give me a chance. Cate tells me that you might just be nervous, or that our time will come but Sugar I don’t think I can survive this much longer.”

“What do you mean?” Your tone is gentle and you’ve given up walking away, choosing to turn to him and allow him a chance to talk. Your heart was thumping through your chest and you were struggling to catch your breath.

“Sweetheart, from the moment I met you I’ve been stuck. Comin’ in with all that attitude like you owned the world, which if you ask me you do, and you didn’t hesitate to put me in my place.” He continues, moving closer to set his hands on your hips. “And I just kept begging the winds to give me a chance. To give me a single shot with you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you say anything?”

“Why would you give me a chance?” He laughs, pulling you in. “But I need one now. I’m begging you for a chance here.”

And though no words are spoken you both know the answer, especially when you pull him in with your hands on the back of his neck to attach your lips to his. And unlike the kiss in the bar this one felt perfect.

There was awkwardness. He tilted his head perfectly, pulling you chest to chest as his hat covers both your heads while his lips melt against yours. He takes his time learning the kiss, his hands rubbing up and down your back as you deepen the kiss some more. This is what was meant to be and you both knew it at that moment.

There is no objection when you begin unbuttoning his flannel, one at a time, never breaking the kiss as you push it off his shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor before he reaches a hand up to throw the hat closer to the nightstand. He doesn’t waste time after he hears the thump of it landing to reach and lift his undershirt off, throwing it somewhere else as he makes eye contact.

“Please tell me I ain’t dreamin’ right now.” He whispers out as you begin to undo your own shirt to slip off before leaning up.

“I can’t tell.” You whisper back, leaning on your tiptoes to attach your lips once more, his arms wrapping around you to undo the back of your bra.

Normally when a man removes the bra it is thrown away and he doesn’t focus too much on any of it, but Tyler? He kisses around your jaw as he undoes the buckle of it before his kisses move down your neck while he drags the bra down until he can drop it, allowing his hands to roam. The feel of his hands sends shivers throughout you and yet they keep you warm as you try to back him to the bed.

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure.” You whisper back, undoing his belt as he kicks off his boots. “I want you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear those words from you.” He grunts out, pulling you closer before falling back onto the bed and dragging you with him.

“Yet he's naked in my room

Missin' all the things he's missin'

God knows that he isn't livin' large”

It doesn’t take long for you both to strip, slowly and gently, until you are both bare. He doesn’t waste time kissing you gently before guiding you up the bed until you’re leaning on the pillow you hadn’t dragged away, kissing along jaw as you sigh out in relief.

He takes his time kissing down your neck, nipping a bit to pull out a breathy moan from your lips before moving further down to kiss and suck at your breasts. He grunts out at the way you wiggle, a breathy giggle passing your lips until a moan passes them the moment his tongue circles one of your nipples. The sound draws his eyes to yours and that sweet lovestruck look falls into one of ferocity, the heated light within them as your lower stomach tightening and your hands rushing to get some contact.

Once your hands find purchase he abandons your breasts, leaving them cold to the air, as he makes his way further down. Every kiss is followed by a lick, every nip is given a bushel of kisses to make up for it. He works your body until he makes it to your thighs, spreading them open for him to view, sending a shiver across your body.

“Tyler, please.” You gasp out, that tight feeling in your stomach begging for relief as your thighs beg to shut, but he is having none of it. Keeping them forced open so that he may give your inner thighs the same treatment he had given the rest of your body.

He gives up his torture with a growl before diving straight in to lick right between your folds. He keeps his hands around your hips to keep you pinned to him when your back arches as you moan out loud. He devours you, licking and sucking over and over with grunts and growls to match your moans.

He doesn’t relent until your moan hits near scream and your hands grip at the pillow, dragging it to your face to bite into as you reach your peak, entire body shuddering as you moan out.

He continues until you come down, pulling away to give you the smuggest smile you had ever seen from him, your entire body ablaze as you sit up to reach for him.

The other kisses were sweet and gentle, this one was two animals claiming each other. And he let you take charge, your speed and your lead. Tasting your own juices as you dragged him back down to lay over you.

“A boy who's nice that breathes

I swear he's nowhere to be seen”

He’s quick to flip you both over so that he’s beneath you and you are on top, a wave of panic filling you.

“Tyler….I’ve never-” You begin, hands landing on his chest as he gazes up at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen from him.

“If you don’t want to then that’s fine, Sweetheart.” He mutters, reaching over to grab where his hat landed and bringing it to set on your head. “But you might just need a little confidence.”

And he was right, with the way he was looking at you and the way the hat felt, suddenly you believed you could rule the world. So you lifted yourself a bit, keeping the gaze as you reached down to line yourself up to him, and with a loud moan you sunk yourself down.

“It's slim pickings

If I can't have the one I love

I guess it's you that I'll be kissin'”

His grunts were easily replaced by moans as you sunk down, his hands digging into your hips, letting you take a moment to adjust before guiding your hips slowly. You tilt your hips with each guide, struggling to catch the proper rhythm and getting pleasure nonetheless.

A moan escapes you as he guides you down at the same time he thrusts up and it’s like something clicks as you begin to find your own rhythm. Using your hands on his chest to keep yourself stable as you begin to speed up your movements.

Tyler gives in, enjoying your new pace, thrusting up into every bounce. Grunting and growling as his nails dig into your hips and he closes his eyes to enjoy the pleasure while you lean down to nip at his chest which makes him groan. “Darlin’...”

And that makes something inside of you burn, a feral moan passing your lips as you speed up, nails digging into his chest before he sits up to kiss you, helping you bounce on his cock with ease.

“Y-you’re…” He groans. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

His arms wrap around you, and he readjusts so that he was on his knees to thrust into you, pulling you down to meet him. The sound of skin slapping is alluring and your thighs clench to cage him in as you lose your breath and shut your eyes.

“Tyler.” You whine, nails digging into his back as something in you begins coiling, tighter and tighter until he bites down between your neck and shoulder and it all falls in an instant. All you can see is white as you bite down on your own lip, holding him tight to you as the waves of pleasure subside.

He continues to thrust before falling under the same spell that had you, keeping his forehead pressed into your collarbone as he spills his cum into you.

You both fall into the cushion of the bed, shuddering as he pulls out before closing your eyes to catch your breath from that experience. And when he wraps his arms around you it’s far too easy to fall asleep from his warmth surrounding you like a blanket of it’s own.

“Just to get my fixings

Since the good ones are deceased or taken

I'll just keep on moanin' and bitchin'”

It’s the feeling of him moving that wakes you a couple hours later, when the bed dips as he stands, making you blink in the dark to see what he is doing. Apart of you panics that he might be leaving, and this was just going to be a one night stand until he pulls on his boxers and turns back to come lift you.

“Why are we awake?” You croak, already feeling cranky at the fact that you had been woken up.

“I figured you’d want to shower, and this is when I normally do.”

“You shower at 4am?” You scoff, clinging to him as he sets you down so your feet touch the cold bathroom floor.

“Yeah. I figured out that no one else showers at this time-”

“Because it’s crazy.”

“Well since no one else showers at this time the water is always at its best pressure and warmth.” He explains, reaching in to turn it on. “Then I can get another hour or so of sleep.”

“Oddly genius.” You giggle, laughing when he shucks the boxers off as a pretend strip tease before hauling you into the shower with him.

“Moanin' and bitchin'”

He takes his time washing your body, lathering the soap over your body with gentle hands as his eyes traced over you over and over again like he was trying to memorize every inch of you.

He let you do the same, the only words spoken never went above a whisper so you didn’t break the bubble and shampooed eachother before shutting the water off and using the towel.

When he swings the door open he makes sure to raise his eyebrows, a look of pride covering his face that makes you scoff.

“You cannot be serious.”

“I wonder what hot scoundrel fixed that for you…”

“Hmmm. I wish I knew.” You tease, “I might have rewarded him.”

A small growl leaves his lips as he scoops you up and hauls you to the bed once more.

“Since the good ones call their exes wasted

And since the Lord forgot my gay awakenin'

Then I'll just be here in the kitchen

Servin' up some moanin' and bitchin'”

You sit on the motel floor as Tyler works around you to get ready for the day, listening to you bitch and moan as he struggles to put his boots on.

“I’m so sore.” You whine, falling flat on the floor to stare at the ceiling. “Yeah? At least you never have to worry about dying alone.”

“No,” You huff out a laugh. “Now I just have to worry about you killing me.”

“Never.” He smiles, coming to haul you off the floor just to throw you over his shoulder and head for the door.

#tyler owens #tyler owens smut #tyler owens angst #tyler owens fluff #tyler owens twisters #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfiction #twisters fanfiction #twisters smut #twisters fanfic #twisters x reader #twisters imagine #twisters fluff

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catboyieejeno · 2 days ago

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because even then, i knew — l.sm { 1 }

genre: non idol! seokmin x reader, stanger to lovers / kdrama au

cw: female reader, petnames, cursing, seokmin is desperately down bad, slowburn, pining, so much fluff, mentions of alcohol, consuming alcohol, nsfw, mentions of cheating, angst

wc: 21k

tracklist: {spotify} {apple music}

navigation: {one} {two}

note: this story is my absolute baby. i stared writing it one day with no plot in mind, and ended up with 45k. it's supposed to feel like a kdrama as you read it (and i mean this in every sense of the word—you will see), so please listen to the tracklist as you scroll. the songs are carefully timed in order to play as you read certain parts, but if you're not sure you're listening to the right song, part two will tell you where you should be and you will resync.

please love this story, it was written with an unbelievable amount of care, detail, and intention.

audio message from: seokmin <3

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|• 0:58

“Hey. I know we haven’t talked in a while but… I wanted you to know that I miss you, and I miss us. And… I’m in love with you, if that means anything to you now.”

≡;- ꒰ ° one ꒱

Love at first sight is undoubtedly the biggest fabrication that the media and modern culture has ever tried to push on society. It only happens in the movies, and even then, it’s barely done right. There is no such thing as happy endings, because that’s not how things are in the real world.

Make no mistake; Lee Seokmin is not a pessimist, nor is he a bitter person. He’s the kind of guy who helps old people cross the street during rush hour, or helps kids pluck their balloons out of trees so they won’t cry. He actually does like long walks on the beach, as a matter of fact, and he happens to be a casual enjoyer of rom-coms, something his other male friends would rather die than admit to.

Once upon a time, he used to be a hopeless romantic, but that rug was pulled out from under him on a few too many occasions, and while he’s still a positive, amicable guy, he had learned that sometimes, things were too good to be true.

For example: when he was 7, he fell in love.

His 20 year old babysitter, who his parents had hired to watch over him on evenings while they were at work, was absolutely perfect—he knew from the moment he met her, she would be the girl he’d marry.

She was Korean, and a freshman in college with a major in business management. Every week, she would walk hand-in-hand with him to the corner store to buy him sausage sticks and sticky tteokbokki at the food cart with the money she could spare from her part time job as a tutor, since his parents would only leave money for emergencies. In return for her generosity, he’d sit still and play while she finished her homework, and occasionally, Seokmin would even pick flowers from his mom’s garden for her. This earned him a few scoldings, but that didn’t matter to him, because she was, and would always be worth it.

Until one day, where he had promised to behave while she finished a practice test. Poor, unsuspecting, seven-almost-eight-year-old Seokmin with his cheeks stuffed full of sausage and rice cake, overheard her calling another boy (albeit a boy her age who could actually reciprocate her affection) a sweet name over the phone. He dropped everything and stomped over to her, bursting into tears and rambling on about how she broke his heart. She was fired the very same evening as a consequence of his tantrum.

When he was 14, he fell in love again. And this time, it had to be love… right?

A family of foreigners had moved in across the street, and their daughter, who was the same age as him this time around, would come over to study with him after school and on the weekends. She’d teach him English, and he’d teach her Korean. She was his first kiss and his first girlfriend—they lasted a reputable two months—until they moved back overseas. Apparently, her parents had only moved there for the summer as part of a work-related trip, and when they said goodbye and promised to write, little Grace revealed she didn’t want a committed, long-distance relationship at the ripe age of fourteen.

In retrospect… maybe she was right, but Seokmin would never forget the way his heart shattered.

The only real, long-term girlfriend he’s had was a little over two years ago. They dated for over a year, she met his parents and he met her’s, the two of them even exchanged promise rings. At the time, he would gush to his friends about how he’d never met anyone as funny and brilliant as her, and how lucky he feels to have done so.

Then, the week before his birthday, Seokmin found out she had been sleeping with her best friend for months.

Love at first sight—true love—It was a flat out lie, and he refused to fall for its charm ever again.

So why, he thinks to himself, why can’t he stop looking at you?

He noticed you for the first time last week after his car had been totaled during an impromptu road trip the day prior. Soonyoung, one of his best friends, had gotten on the subway while drinking and somehow ended up eight stops away from his apartment at an ungodly hour in his wasted state. Seokmin was the only one that answered the phone. He picked him up, but on the way back, Soonyoung tried to crawl out the window of the passenger seat and Seokmin, whilst trying to pull him back inside, had crashed into a tree.

The car was old, and he was saving up for a new one anyway. That, and the insurance gave him some chump change for the wreckage, which was more than he’d thought he’d get, so it wasn’t too bad. The biggest inconvenience he faced now was getting to and from work.

Every night, after his shift at the flower shop, Seokmin would take the bus transit home. The first night, he only saw you in passing, because he practically had to run after the bus to catch it after arriving late to the stop. He took the first seat he could find, panting and exhausted after his long shift and the blip of a marathon he just ran, and sunk down into it.

Since he had never needed to take the bus until now, he spent some time glancing out the window and studying the route, discovering the stop near his apartment was the very last one, arriving at nearly 10:00 P.M. Yours was the second to last one, only a few blocks over. That evening, he only barely caught a glimpse of the side of your face as you climbed off, crossing the street and strolling out of sight with way too many things clutched within your jacketed arms.

The following night, he made it to the bus on time, thankfully, and spotted you sitting near the back, though that didn’t mean much to him yet. He took his same seat near the front, despite the many empty spots throughout the vehicle. And just like before, at the second to last stop, you walked down the middle aisle to exit.

This time, while wrestling your books, laptop case, walkman, and coat, your headset wire had snagged on the seat in front of him. He watched as you turned around and detangled it hurriedly, your gaze barely flickering up to meet his curious one for a split second. You flashed him a ghost of a smile and then, you were gone again.

Seokmin found himself looking forward to seeing you every single night from then on.

He decided to start sitting in the back of the bus too, blaming his avid interest in you purely on the distorted conclusion that it made no sense to sit in the front! He was always the last one aboard, and the back had so many more seats for him to get comfortable.

That’s what he convinced himself of, at least for the first few days. He tried sitting in a couple different spots, though he wouldn’t dare sit too close to you—he’s not that bold. He did, however, decide after his trial and error period that his favorite seat was the far left one on the last row. Your seat was forever unchanging, on the second to last row and all the way to the right.

This way, he could watch over your shoulder as you typed away on your computer. You seemed to be writing something personal, because night after night, you’d create paragraph after paragraph, working tirelessly to craft whatever it was that you were working on so extensively. He figured it couldn’t be just any assignment or work-related exposition. This meant something to you, and that only spiked his curiosity more. The only pause in your routine of clicking away at keys was skipping a song or two on your walkman or glancing out the window for inspiration.

He’s never sat close enough to actually read the words on your screen, but then again, that might be overstepping a bit. The urge does frequently bug him, though, especially when he notices how immersed you become the moment you lift the screen of your laptop and open your document. Every night, he watches you do the same thing, and every night, he fights the urge to strain his neck and catch a glimpse of a single word on your screen.

He contains himself, though, on the principle that eavesdropping is wrong, and he intends to never do you wrong.

On the sixth night he spends in his new seat, he notices about twenty minutes in when your fingers stop clicking away. At first, he considers the possibility that you may be thinking or planning your next sentence. But, as the bus nears your stop, you don’t move to start picking up your things. It immediately alerts him, and he sits up straighter as he realizes, you’ve fallen asleep.

He’s never given something so simple so much thought in such a short time. He can feel the bus slowing down, and he can hear the brakes screeching and wheezing. Would he feel worse for disturbing your rest and making an inevitably awkward first impression, or letting you continue to sleep and possibly (definitely) miss your stop?

Certainly the latter.

Without a second thought, Seokmin hurriedly slides out of his aisle and climbs down the two steps of the back row to reach you at your seat, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and giving it a light shake. You don’t budge, even when he calls out to you.

“Excuse me, Miss. Miss?”

As the bus comes to a full stop and the engine’s roar becomes suppressed, he can hear the music playing through the headset that sits still over your ears. With a grimace, he softly slips them off, and the action is enough to stir you awake. You blink in confusion as you adjust to the brightness of the lights inside the bus, and your eyes land on his widened ones.

“Sorry for waking you, but,” he gestures outside, “this is your stop.”

You look around to confirm, and upon seeing the familiar intersection and corner store, you realize what he’s saying is true.

A few things go through your head: First of all, the stranger in front of you has the kindest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Secondly, his nose is absolutely huge, and for some reason, he knows your stop, which makes you wonder where else he’s capable of poking it. So naturally, you ignore the sweet charm behind his eyes and shrug off his arm, grabbing your things quickly and booking it for the door that the bus driver has to reopen when he sees you approaching.

You climb off and consider taking a different route, but if he knows your stop, he likely knows which way you walk every single night. You curse at yourself for even falling asleep in the first place, then drag your feet along towards your apartment after accommodating your headphones back over your ears, your walkman clutched in hand, its music swirling in your ears once more.

Because of this, you miss the way Seokmin shouts after you for leaving your phone behind, and the way the bus driver then shouts at him for holding him up.

“I’ve got a wife to get home to, kid. Get back on the bus or I’m leaving you here.”

He looks between the device in his hand, you, and back at the burly bus driver who raises a threatening brow his way.

In defeat, he gets back on board and walks down until he’s reached his seat, but not before stopping at yours, or rather stumbling there with how aggressively the driver steps on the gas and sends him flying. He does a quick once over your seat to make sure you haven’t left or dropped anything else, but your phone is the only thing you forgot in your rush.

The drive to his street is rather short, and when he does some calculations on the maps app, he discovers it’s at most a half-hour walk from his place to yours. That revelation makes him regretful, because as he dismounts the bus, crosses the street, and climbs the flight of stairs to his apartment, he realizes he could’ve run after you and given you your phone and just walked home after. It would’ve allowed him to explain that he’s not a creep, and that he only knows your stop because you’re the only other person on the bus at that hour.

He thinks about his encounter with you the whole way to his apartment, and even at home while he takes his shower and brushes his teeth. And still, when he plugs your dead phone in, so that he can give it to you fully charged the next day. As it comes to life, half a dozen messages come in with a series of ‘dings’ from a contact you have saved as just a heart. He can’t read what the messages say because of the privacy settings you have in place, so he just silences it as more messages come in. He would have tried to let them know your phone isn’t with you, but the person with the heart alias never tries to call, and so there’s nothing Seokmin can do about it but hope tomorrow comes quickly.

That thought brings him back to you, and as he lies down, he finds himself tossing and turning in bed, unable to fall asleep because he’s mulling over the way you shrugged him off. It’s only the long day at work, where he spent eight hours on his feet watering ficuses and making arrangements with daisies and lilies, that manages to silence his brain and lull his eyelids to a close so he can get some rest.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

His shift at the floral shop had gone by painfully slow today. The hours that usually pass relatively quickly with the friendly faces of Korean grandmas that stop by after going to the market, have dragged on for an eternity.

He reminds himself that he’s going to see you tonight and that thought gets him through the day. He’ll at last be able to redeem himself of the interaction that’s been haunting him for the last twelve hours. He even dreamt about you, specifically about the conversation going a completely different way than it did.

“Sorry for waking you, but this is your stop.”

“Oh, my god,” you said. “Thank you. I didn’t even realize I drifted off.”

“No worries,” Seokmin would flash you a smile and help you with your things, since he had noticed your tendency to travel with more than you could carry. “Here.”

“Thanks again, uh…”

“Seokmin.”

“Seokmin,” you’d repeat, and even in his dream, he had reeled over the way his name rolled off your tongue.

In an extra effort to mend things over with you, Seokmin dips into his weekly paycheck at the end of his shift to buy you a tote bag from the shop. That way, you’d have a place to pack your laptop when you weren’t typing up stories, and your coat that you insisted on draping over your arm? It could go in there, too!

Why you chose to listen to music on a walkman in today’s modern age, he has no idea—but now you’d have a place to store it so you won’t leave it behind like you had your phone.

The tote bag he picks out for you is the nicest, most sizable one in stock. It’s the first time he’s bought anything from the floral shop, so the measly ten percent employee discount he got was rather underwhelming. Still, it would be worth it. He’d hand you your phone, explain himself to clear up the previous night's confusion, and offer you the tote bag as a gift.

When he climbs on the bus later that evening, you’re sitting in the same spot as always, except this time, you’re expecting him. Your eyes flash up at him then fall back to your laptop. Subsequently, you slump further down in your seat, and Seokmin quickly realizes you’re trying to avoid him.

Now—he had talked himself through the plan of approaching you all day, it’s all he thought about during the less busy hours of his shift to pass the time. He had walked through the process once, twice, and then again in hopes of nailing down every detail, but he didn’t once account for your very obvious disinterest.

It offsets his mood entirely, which was confident and sociable just moments ago, and he trails down the aisle, past your seat, and to his own instead with discouragement.

The moment he sits, it’s as if someone winded up his leg: it starts restlessly bouncing, and his mind mirrors the action, his inner monologue providing no relief for his grief.

If he was any other rational person, he would’ve taken your coldness with a grain of salt; he’d hand you your phone, say “you left this.” and go on about his day—no, his life, as if this moment, as if meeting you, was nothing more than an insignificant scene in the story of his life. He wouldn’t spend every hour overthinking your first impression of him, or feeling disappointed that it wasn’t what he wanted it to be. And he certainly wouldn’t be here, talking himself up to the task of walking over to you once more.

Even his own forgiving conscience is embarrassed when he readies himself to stand, chanting “Ok. 3…2…” and then sits back down in defeat.

This goes on for the better part of an hour, until Seokmin remembers you’d be getting off soon. This realization materializes as the last person besides the two of you gets off, and the familiar buildings that are just a few blocks away from your stop come into view. At the same time, a new string of messages come in from the same individual who was writing to you last night, and Seokmin decides it’s about time that he returns your phone to you—for real this time.

With a nod to himself, he pushes off the chair with his legs and forces them to move him over to you, where he stands for a few seconds, waiting for you to notice him. In one hand, he’s holding out your phone, and under his other arm is the folded tote bag he’s planning to give you. He can’t get his tongue to comply, making his feet work was hard enough, so hovers over you a little longer until you practically feel his eyes on you and look up.

“Hi–”

You slide your headphones off one ear, and he clears his throat.

“Hi.” He repeats, “My name is Seokmin. I’m the guy who woke you up last night.”

“I know.” You cast your eyes down to your phone and he leans it closer to you.

“You left your phone here.”

Your lips purse contemplatively as you take it, mumbling out a quick “thanks,” and unlocking it to inspect your pile of notifications. Seokmin only clears his throat again.

“I also wanted to apologize for yesterday. I didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo, It’s just–”

You seem to lose focus of what he’s saying as you read through the messages on your phone, a deep frown molding over your features. The fact that you’re not listening at all trips him up, especially when he’s trying so hard to recite the mental script he prepared for this very moment.

“Uh, I just… The only reason I know your stop is because it’s only you and me on the bus this late. So, you know–”

As he points this out, you perk your head up and look around, as if to check for yourself that this is, in fact, true. It doesn’t ease your apprehension about him, but his kind eyes look so desperate in their plea for your understanding that, for a fleeting instant, you manage to hone in on his explanation and dismiss your suspicions about his nosy tendencies.

“Naturally, I just noticed, and I didn’t want you to miss your stop.”

When you nod once and say “ok,” he almost wishes you hadn’t said anything at all. That’s it? That’s all you have to say to ease his discomfort?

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he didn’t almost forget, he just wanted to sound nonchalant, “I got you this since you’re always–”

“Well, Seokmin…” It’s even better than in his dream, hearing you say his name, “You should know better than me by now that,” you point outside and the bus reaches a halt, “this is my stop.”

Hurry up, Seokmin. “I got you this bag for your things.”

You take it from his outstretched hands with the smallest mutter of gratitude, but don’t bother to inspect it or put it to use. You simply pile it atop of your laptop and coat with pursed lips, not sparing it a second glance. He’s almost confused about why you’re still staring him down expectantly after that, until it becomes clear to him that he’s blocking the aisle and in turn, your exit.

Somewhat awkwardly, Seokmin moves aside, and you waste no time in passing right by him and heading for the door with all your trinkets stacked up in your arms.

Dejection is an appropriate word to describe how Seokmin feels right about now. So is frustration.

Even after you leave, cross in front of the bus, and make your way home, Seokmin stands in the same spot, dumbfounded. He stays like this for a few seconds, even when the bus moves and messes with his balance. It’s not until his annoyance really settles in, nestling in his bones and making his face glow red, that he manages to stomp back over to his spot and plop down.

You are easily the most irritating person he has ever met; ill-mannered, ungrateful, rude, and downright selfish. Seokmin stopped going to therapy months after he recovered from his ex, but he finds himself regressing in the ‘self-recognition’ area at this moment. Although he can consciously acknowledge that his anger stems from your interaction not going as he wanted it to, he still decides to dump the blame on you and call you all these names in his head. Why he so desperately wants to be liked by you, he doesn’t know. Why he’s irrationally spiraling in the absence of your approval, he also doesn’t know.

What he does know is that the next twenty-four hours are going to be just as bad as the last, and he’s going to be kicking himself until he sees you again and gives you a piece of his mind.

Tonight, he rolls around in bed longer than usual, until the clock strikes two and he can’t keep his eyes open any longer.

The next day, when Seokmin boards the bus, you’re nowhere to be seen. You’re not at your seat, nor anywhere else for that matter, which he decides is for the best, because he’s able to swallow down his explosive complaints for another day instead of possibly causing a scene on the bus.

Ha! You’re lucky you didn’t get on tonight, he thinks, I'll spare you from my lecture for another evening.

Except the following night, you aren’t there either.

As it turns out, you aren’t on the bus for the next six days straight.

And instead of recovering from his emotions like a normal person, Seokmin is only spurred on, tormented and pursued by his thoughts of you. They've shifted, because now he can only help but wonder what you’re up to. He’s back to square one, wondering if he weirded you out so much that you resorted to finding another means of transportation with the sole intention of avoiding him.

Then, he reproaches himself, his rationale telling him that surely, there must be another reason for your absence—one that isn’t at all related to him. He ponders this as he piles a few stems of lilies and eucalyptus on one another, wrapping them and tying them closed.

“Seokmin-ah. What’s the matter?”

He turns quickly to face Ms. Boo, the owner of the flower shop and the grandmother of his best friend. On more than a few occasions, she had acted as a grandmother to him, too—bringing him lunches and pestering him about eating enough, or nagging him for not dressing properly in cold weather.

“Nothing!”

“Look what you’re doing to my flowers.” She narrows her eyes, extending a wrinkled finger out in his direction.

Seokmin glances down to find that his knuckles have gone white against the stem of the baby’s breath he's been unconsciously shaking like a rattle. The delicate white flowers have been pulverized, reduced to white fuzz on the arrangement he was attempting to make and the surrounding surface of the work station.

“Ah, shi-“ She gives him a glare, “Sorry.” He quickly rephrases, “I’ll clean this up.”

As Ms. Boo straightens out some gardenias in a vase, she asks him again, “What’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath, reaching for the dustpan under the counter. “It’s just… Someone I met on the bus.”

“Is she pretty?”

“Very.” He nods, then sighs. “I just wish the conversation we had went differently, that’s all.”

“Well,” She seems to be mustering up her years of wisdom, eyebrows raising as she fixes her apron, “You’re a handsome boy, Seokmin-ah. And you’ve got good sense. God knows you’ve got more than Seungkwan,” she grumbles the last part, and it makes Seokmin’s lips curl up a bit. “Your car isn’t fixed yet, right?”

He shakes his head, “No.”

“So, then get back on the bus tonight and talk to her.” She insists with the assurance only an 85 year old grandmother could have.

“I would, but…”

“And stop moping. You’re making the flowers sad. They feel these kinds of things.” She nods, feeling the petal of the lily between her fingertips. Suddenly, she snaps her fingers, “Finish this arrangement and get back to work.”

He finishes brushing the white fuzz of the carnation into the dustpan and discarding it before tackling the bouquet he was previously working on with a tad more care. He finishes after deciding the pale flowers need a touch of color, so he adds a few pink roses and places it in a bucket near the front window of the store on display.

He takes a moment to glance outside at the busy street, watching the people that pass by. Couples stroll hand in hand, and more often than not, the girls will stop their partner to point out the flowers. This was a common occurrence, and if Seokmin was lucky, the displays would draw in a few more customers than usual.

Not today, though. As he does a once over every arrangement he’s chosen to display on the window, he realizes they all lack something besides effort. He can’t put his finger on exactly what they’re missing, but Ms. Boo was right— the plants do feel emotions—and these weren’t particularly joyous creations.

As he sprays the leaves with a little mist bottle he carries around in his apron, he watches through the window each person that passes by in an effort to pass the time. It isn’t like there’s much to do during the less busy hours, and there’s only so many arrangements he can make when they’re all coming out dull and lifeless to match his gloom.

So, Seokmin opts for people watching, until a specific individual catches him by surprise.

At first, he thinks he’s seeing things.

Not only have you stopped outside the shop to gaze and gawk at the flowers while wearing a soft, admiring look, but soon enough, the bell above the door has chimed, meaning you’ve actually come inside.

He would greet you, as he’s supposed to do when a customer enters the shop, but he… can’t—at least not from where he is now, ducking behind the sales counter.

Before you could have spotted him, his fight or flight reflexes, or in this case just flight, had kicked in. He could’ve easily ran behind the curtain to the room where some of the flowers are stored, but then he would’ve ran into Ms. Boo, who would have questioned his reasons for leaving the counter unattended.

Then, he realizes that Seungkwan wouldn’t be coming in until later, and their other part-timer Eunchae didn’t work today because she had an exam at school.

The service bell at the counter rings once and he grimaces, full of hopeful thinking that you’d just go away if no one appeared. Instead you ring it again, and he ducks lower, until some shuffling behind him and the voice of his best friend’s grandmother gives him away.

“Seokmin-ah, there’s someone at the counter!”

There’s a pause, and though he can’t see how your ears perk up at the sound of the familiar name, he knows he’s absolutely busted because even if you didn’t correlate that ‘Seokmin’ was also the same guy who woke you up on the bus, he’d be forced to show himself before long. Ms. Boo continues to ramble, much to his dismay.

“Are you still sulking over the pretty girl from the bus?” Yeah, that’ll do it. “Ah, Seokmin-ah… I don’t pay you to sulk.”

At this, Seokmin covers his face with his palm.

He has no way of knowing that as he’s willing and pleading with the ground to swallow him whole and spare him from the incoming embarrassment, Ms. Boo’s comment had brought a little smile to your face. You’re peering around the shop for him when you see someone start to peek out from the other side of the counter.

First, his fingers. They land on the marble surface, and less than a second later, his dark mop of hair follows, appearing past the slope. Then, his kind eyes, big nose, and his teeth, clenched together tightly in reluctance as he takes in your amused gaze.

You cross your arms over your chest and Seokmin scoffs, shooting up suddenly.

“This is unbelievable!” His laugh is loud and theatrical, though a touch ironic, given the whole ‘hiding-from-you-behind-the-counter’ situation just seconds prior. He doesn’t let his obvious preposterousness stop his rampage, though. In very Seokmin fashion, he commits to the bit, puffing up his chest a little. “You call me a stalker and now you go and stalk me to my place of employment!”

“I never called you a stalker.” You say simply, and his face falters only slightly. “Nor did I stalk you.” Seokmin rolls his eyes as you continue. “Also, who even says ‘place of employment?’”

As if straight out of a bad middle school play, which Seokmin had plenty of practice at back in his day, he regains his confidence at his turn to speak his line, scoffing again at your nonchalant attitude. Why were you so unbothered about the way you treated him? He ignores your question, and readies his next comeback.

“Yeah? Well, then how did you know where I work, huh?”

When you wordlessly turn to show off the tote bag slung over your shoulder, a few things occur.

The color of Seokmin’s cheeks become very red, very fast. His ears quickly glow a similar shade to match. He completely deflates—letting up on his accusations and dropping the theatrics. There’s a reason he’s a florist and not an actor.

Then, he realizes what you’re showing off—the tote bag! You’re wearing the bag he got you! You’re actually using it! He can see the wire of your headset poking out of the top, and the square mold of your laptop filling the material!

At the same time, however, his eyes land on the only design or pattern it has. Sewn in black, the bag boldly displays the name of Ms. Boo’s flower shop. At this, Seokmin smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck.

“I figured I’d find you here.” You mumble, taking a look around, “it’s a pretty place.”

“Yeah.” He nods, but he’s still eyeing you suspiciously, waiting for you to announce the reason for your visit.

“I came to…” your fingers reach over the counter to brush off the fuzz of the baby’s breath that remained on his dark green apron, and Seokmin tucks his chin to his chest, exposing all of his chins as his eyes shift between your hand and eyes that are both set on his torso.

”There.” You sigh, “I came to apologize. I was going through a… Well, anyway, I wasn’t exactly nice to you, so…”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement,” Seokmin grumbles.

“Sorry. And thank you.”

“For?”

You swing the bag around again, “It came in handy.”

”Oh,” He knew it would, “I’m glad.”

“Seokmin-ah… There’s someone at the—Oh, hello.” Shuffling over with a wad of eucalyptuses in her arms, Ms. Boo smiles warmly at you, as she does with all customers who stop by the shop.

”Ms. Boo, this is…“

”Y/N.”

“Y/N.” Both of them echo your name, though Seokmin does it under his breath, in a quiet affirmation to himself. He decides instantly that it’s perfect, and that it suits you perfectly. He doesn’t intend for it to be a Tony and Maria situation, but the way it sounds, rolling off his tongue, is seamless and simply, right.

”It’s lovely to meet you,” Ms. Boo adds.

“Likewise. Excuse me, I wanted to know if I borrow Seokmin real quick? I owe him a coffee.”

Seokmin hisses apprehensively, reinstating his act momentarily as he begins rolling up his sleeve to search for the time on his watch. “Yeah, well, my break isn’t for another—“

”Take him, please. But only give him back when he’s in a better mood.” She gives him a light-hearted glare as she scurries away, calling out, “every plant he’s walked past today has wilted.”

“I plan to do just that. Thank you.”

He makes it look like he’s in some kind of distress when he unties his apron and lifts the neckloop over her head, but really, he can’t wait to cut work for a coffee with you. There’s a little cafe nearby, and he’s almost sure that’s where you’ll be taking him. He also can’t wait to recommend his favorite drink to you, though part of him worries you might not enjoy it and consequently bruise his ego a little—given the fading but still ever-present grudge he’s holding against you.

Seokmin can’t help but prolong the act of clocking out: changing shoes, grabbing his wallet and phone from his cubby, folding his apron (instead of hanging it up in whatever state it’s in, as he usually does), while you shift your weight between your heels and gawk at him in wait. He does all this in an effort to extend the minutes he has with you. His break is fifteen minutes, but those fifteen minutes can’t go by if the clock technically hasn't started counting.

You stand by patiently, following him around with your eyes as he tidies up a single flower out of place or wipes his hands down on a rag. When he’s finally ready, and can’t be bothered to pretend that lacing his sneakers actually takes longer than two minutes, he joins you on the other side of the counter and follows you to the door.

Feeling a little nervous, he clears his throat. “You don’t have to do this, you know. We can just go our separate ways.”

“I do. This way, I can properly convey my apology and gratitude. You know: two birds, one stone.”

“Those are two separate things… It’s only right that you would owe me two coffees then.” The way he grumbles under his breath unveils some of his bitterness, though you can tell by the half-hearted side-eye he gives you as he fights back a grin, that he’s really only messing with you.

So you laugh, and Seokmin feels his heart do a somersault in his chest. With a shake of your head, you turn to him, defeated. “Alright. You can get a coffee and a muffin.”

Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to see your smile again, he brings his hand up to rub his chin, “Hmm, I don’t know. I don’t really like muffins.”

“Well, then I’ll just have to stop by tomorrow, too.”

At this, Seokmin smiles from ear to ear, tilting his head away towards the street so that you don’t catch the way he lights up at the prospect of possibly seeing you again.

As the two of you cross the street, you notice a bus stop a little up the way, nodding towards it so he can look. “Is that where you catch the bus?” He nods. “Funny, my stop is only two blocks down the street we came from.”

Seokmin reaches for the door of the cafe, holding it open for you to walk through. To his delight, you seem to be fascinated by the space—meaning it’s likely you haven’t been here before. He watches as you study the rustic lights on the ceiling, the shiny wooden tables, and the botany at the window.

“These look like the ones from your shop.”

“That’s because they are.” He stands beside you. “The owner of the cafe loves the classics. So do I. So, in exchange for a floral arrangement or two, he lets me borrow a book.” He watches your gaze leave him to face the singular bookshelf he had gestured to, a tall collection of literary classics neatly sorted by author. Your eyes almost bulge out of your head as you take it in, mouth agape as you slowly step toward the shelves.

Not yet grasping the extent of your fascination, and with the line to order clearing out, Seokmin remembers he’s on a schedule. “Do you wanna order?”

“I…” You shake your head, fingertips ghosting over the spine of the books without grazing them, because you know better than to touch an antique collection. It doesn’t stop you from admiring them, mumbling out a response to the boy next to you without giving it much thought. “I usually get… You know what, just order whatever for me.”

You dig for your wallet in the tote bag, handing your card to him without tearing your eyes away from the sight before you. Seokmin only laughs and takes it without the slightest intention to use it. He orders you the drink he thinks you might like the best, as someone with a taste for the traditional things--like classic literature and walkmans--and orders himself a more sugary poison to nurture his sweet tooth.

When he pays, he doesn’t use your card, but he wraps the receipt around it anyway so you won’t holster any suspicion that he did exactly what he did. He only checks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still distracted, and you are, ogling the books as if you had never seen anything as marvelous as the contents of this bookshelf before.

He feels something fluttering in his chest, and he knows very well what caused it, but he pays it no mind—opting instead for leaning into the cashier who he’s frequently talked to during his coffee breaks with his caffeine crazy friend, Boo Seungkwan.

“Hey, Josh. Do you know if Mr. Kim is in today?” Kim Jongdae, the owner of the cafe, had a soft spot for the flower shop boys ever since they helped make him a beautiful bouquet for his wife’s birthday. Then, for their anniversary and every celebration thereafter.

Joshua shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he starts on the drinks. “He’s out for the day. It’s the little one’s birthday.”

“Shame. I wanted to borrow a book.”

“I mean… You know you can just grab any off the shelf.” He mumbles, hissing as he nearly burns his finger with the steaming espresso maker, “Which one do you want?”

“Whichever one she does.” He turns to you,“That’s why I wanted to ask. It’s not for me, but for her.”

“Ah.” Joshua looks between the two of you, without missing the gentle smile on Seokmin’s face as he watches you. He only manages to look away when the older boy at the counter sets both drinks down and clears his throat. “Here.”

“Right.”

“And about that book,” he gestures to you, “I’ll ask Mr. Kim when I see him tomorrow.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” With both drinks and your card wrapped in his receipt all clutched in his hands, he makes his way over to you quietly, as if any abruptness would disturb your studying of each and every title. But you hear him coming—that, or you smell the fresh coffee nearing you—so you spin around on your heels quickly, whisper-shouting as if he wasn’t right beside you now.

“This is incredible. I’m usually at the library until I get on the bus but–thank you,” You take the drink and instantly bring it to your lips for a sip, “Even the library doesn’t have this good of a–ah, hot!”

“Be careful!” Seokmin fights the urge to beckon his hand closer to you, but his shoulders still jolt up in concern that you may have burned yourself.

“–good of a collection–wow, this is really good.” Your shift in focus makes him hold back a snort.

“You like it?”

“Yes, thank you. Should we sit?” He follows you to a table by the window, where the two of you can glance out at the bustling street as you chat.

“Ms. Boo is nice.” You comment, as you notice one of the displays from the shop sitting at the sill.

“She is. She nags, but it’s only because she cares. I wouldn’t change anything about her.”

You wear a warm smile on your lips as you take another sip, savoring the rich taste of your coffee. “I really like my drink. What did you get for yourself?”

Seokmin’s fingers move lazily to push the cup towards you. “Do you wanna try it?”

You hesitate, your gaze flicking between his inviting smile and the drink. After a moment’s pause, you reach for one of the wrapped paper straws sitting near the sugar and salt. You peel it open, pop it into the cup, and take a sip. You seem to like it at first, but then, the overwhelming sweetness hits, a syrupy storm that floods your taste buds, and you immediately regret your decision.

Your face scrunches up in disbelief as you try not to choke on the sugary onslaught, your throat resisting the thick sweetness. “Oh god,” you gasp, your eyes wide.

Seokmin’s laughter bubbles up effortlessly, and he rolls his eyes, clearly entertained by your reaction. You slide the drink back across the table to him, still reeling from the shock of it. “That’s—how can you even drink that?” you manage between soft chuckles.

“Really? It’s not that bad,” he says with a teasing grin, unbothered by the fact that you’re clearly struggling. “I’d say your drink needs an acquired taste.”

“Mine? I’m drinking coffee.” You set your cup down, now fully convinced that whatever he’s drinking is a bizarre concoction. “I don’t know what you’re drinking.”

Seokmin shrugs, his grin only widening. “Agree to disagree.” His cheeks aching from the persistent smile that seems to be permanently affixed to his face now.

You laugh in disbelief before taking a few large gulps of your own coffee, feeling its familiar warmth wash over you and effectively wiping away the remnants of Seokmin’s sugary disaster from your palate.

“So,” you begin, eyes narrowing slightly as you shift your focus to him, “how long have you been working there?”

“For a year now.” He leans back slightly in his chair, clearly more relaxed than before.

“Do you like it?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

He pauses, as if considering his words carefully before answering. “It’s… I mean, yes.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I spotted some hesitation there.”

He sighs, a quiet exhale of air as he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not like I wanna be there forever.” His tone shifts, like he’s trying to brush off the weight of the subject, but it lingers.

Glancing down at your cup, you swirl it around absentmindedly to cool the contents. You try to lighten the mood, teasing him, “Not taking over Ms. Boo’s position in the future?”

Seokmin smiles, clearly amused by the suggestion. “I’ll leave that to her grandson. He works there, too.” He shrugs, a nonchalant gesture, but there's a quiet finality in his words.

Feeling the need to dig a little deeper, you sit up straight, eyes bright with curiosity. “Okay, so what is it that you wanna do?”

Seokmin’s smile falters just a fraction, and for a brief moment, the easy-going confidence he always wears slips. His fingers fiddle with the edge of his cup, and he looks off into the distance, his expression turning distant. “It’s nothing,” he mutters, his tone dropping low.

You pause, sensing something behind the simplicity of his words, but you don’t press further. “It isn’t nothing.” You shake your head, “It’s what you wanna do with your life. I wouldn’t call that nothing.”

After a brief pause that consists of looking between your eyes and playing with the syllables stuck thickly in his mouth, Seokmin mumbles a single word. “Music.”

“Music?” You echo him, then stay silent so he can elaborate. You can tell he feels some degree of discouragement, obvious in the way his shoulders slump down. His hands start fidgeting and he looks out the window again as he seems to recall some memory.

“But it’s nothing serious right now. I mess around with my guitar and write stuff every once in a while, but… I haven’t really played since—“

“I would love to hear,” you cut him off, leaning forward, “If you ever feel like showing someone, I would love to listen to you play.”

There’s a sudden bitterness in his throat (that definitely isn’t his coffee) as he recalls a slightly stirring memory. It’s not as distant as he would like it to be, despite his attempt to store it in the ‘do-not-open’ file of his mind, but it doesn’t stop him from nodding along and agreeing to your offer with some apprehension, because truthfully, you had no part in carving that scar.

Simply put: you were not her.

“I haven’t played in a while,” he rephrases, “but when I pick it up again, you’ll be the first person I show.”

It doesn’t take long before you start telling him about your studies, now that you had succeeded in interrogating him with a few of your burning questions, and it becomes apparent to Seokmin very quickly how easy conversation flows with you. Each word you utter is warm, welcoming, almost familiar, as if he had known you for longer than he did–and he suddenly feels very guilty for having misjudged you.

It’s not like you know of the way he bad-mouthed you in his sensitive mind, so there really is no need to compensate for it. Even then, he feels he owes you something—like he should make it up to you for thinking such things about a person of your nature.

He learns that you’re a student who’s majoring in English literature, with the aspiration to be a writer. The two of you agreed that he’d show you his music, and you’d show him what you’re working on—the last of which delighted him, seeing as he’d spent weeks trying to guess what your fingers typed away on your computer each night on the bus. You hate sugary drinks, that much you made clear, and you had a strong distaste for the smell of holiday candles.

Every word you’d spill left him on the edge of his seat, wanting to know more about you. If it wasn’t for the fact that he needed to go back to work, he’d have sat with you for the whole afternoon listening to you talk.

But instead, you join him on his walk back to the flower shop, unknowingly having fulfilled your promise to bring him back in a better mood.

“Ms. Boo?”

“Seokmin-ah? You’re back right on time. There’s a customer who needs a graduation arrangement for their son.” Seokmin can tell she’s in the backroom, wrestling the hose to fill the watering can from the strain in her voice.

“I’ll get my apron on!” He calls, then spins around to face you, “Thank you for today. I liked my coffee, even if you didn’t think it was great.”

“Good to know. I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow? Won’t I catch you on the bus tonight?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he hopes you didn’t catch the disappointment behind them.

“Tonight’s the last night of my study group, and those usually run late.” So that’s why you hadn’t been taking the bus lately, “So, tomorrow it is. Unless you don’t want that second coffee…”

“I do.” He insists, and your lips curl up as you reach for the doorknob.

“Alright, then.”

The instant the door shuts behind you, he starts counting down the hours until he can see you again.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Seokmin’s shift could not have gone any slower. Unlike any day before, the hours could not seem to pass, despite how badly he willed them to. Aside from Seungkwan’s occasional side-eyed-glares and complaints of his uncharacteristically fast work pace today, Seokmin has managed to complete his tasks for the day and more: he prepared two graduation orders placed last minute and a walk-in customer who was uncertain of what ‘I’m sorry’ bouquet to get his girlfriend, all while trying to appease potential buyers who entered the shop, drawn in by the six new bouquet’s he’d made this very same morning and displayed at the window.

All that, and it’s only fifteen past eleven in the morning.

“What has you in such a rush? I’m like four orders behind you. Usually, it’s the other way around.” The last part is but a grumble under his breath.

Unable to explain, because he isn’t exactly sure of the answer either, Seokmin brushes Seungkwan's suspicious raised brow off and mentions something that would pique his interest instead, in hopes of changing the topic.

“You know Soonyoung said Chan blew him off for a date? They were supposed to go out drinking and then—”

“And then Minji called him and he bailed, I know. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“And then—”

“Slow down!” Seungkwan all but yanks the scissors from his best friend’s hands, which is, needless to say, not the safest thing to do, and puts them at his own station. “You’ve been hogging them for the last hour.” he hisses, “If my grandma comes in and sees that I’m this far behind, she’ll make me skip my break.”

“I just need time to pass by quickly. I figure if I keep myself busy, it just might.”

“Time doesn’t work like that, idiot.”

“Actually, it does. Idiot.” He sneers back, and Seungkwan could not look more offended if he tried—eyes wide, lips puckered to shape a word he doesn’t quite get to say. He swings back his arm, but before Seokmin could get smacked by the handful of tulips in his grip, Ms. Boo comes bustling through, humming a mindless tune as she clutches a pen and a few envelopes in her arms.

“Boys, I've got your pay for this week and the next. I have an appointment with Dr. Hong next Friday, so I won’t be here. I expect you’ll take care of the shop while I’m—these arrangements are lovely. Who made them?”

The boys look between each other, and Seokmin huffs out before answering. “We both did, Ms. Boo.”

“Good work. Lovely…” She starts mumbling to herself again as she shifts her attention from the flowers at the windowsill to the bills in her hands, counting them and separating them into two even piles.

At Seokmin’s reply (call it an unspoken truce), Seungkwan visibly relaxes, releasing the flowers before he could ruin them and scurrying over to his grandma. “Have you been taking your medicine? You know he’ll scold you otherwise.”

“I’m too old to be scolded,” She replies stubbornly, and their conversation fades momentarily as the door chimes again.

“Welcome to Botanical–oh.” Seokmin’s scripted introduction is cut short as he notices that it’s you who has entered the shop, wearing a small smile.

“Hi.” You greet him, “and hello, Ms. Boo.”

“Hello.” She chirps, “Y/N, was it?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Hey,” Seokmin’s wide smile, which nourished the moment he laid eyes on you, suddenly falters as he realizes the time. “Shit, are you here for-”

“Language.”

“Sorry,” he bows his head apologetically at Ms. Boo, then grabs your arm to drag you a little further from the pair, “I can’t take my break right now.” He tells you, regretfully. Your smile falls a little.

“Really? I was looking forward to our coffee time. Plus, I desperately need some caffeine. I’ve been reading this boring manuscript since seven.” You scowl, gesturing to the stack of papers overflowing from your bag.

That pout, the one on your lips: it needs to be fixed as soon as possible. Seokmin holds a single finger up as he scours his brain for a plan, “Wait here a second. Let me see what I can do.” With that, he turns around and speedwalks over to Seungkwan, who hands him his half of the money.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” Seokmin takes the bills, not quite meeting Seungkwan’s eyes as he pockets them. “Hey, listen…” His voice drops, just low enough that it almost feels like a secret. “I need to take my break now.”

Seungkwan blinks in confusion, his brow furrowing. “What?!”

“Shh!” Seokmin urges, his face a mix of impatience and pleading. He tugs at his sleeve, leaning closer so only Seungkwan can hear. “Please.”

“No way,” Seungkwan protests, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. “I take the morning breaks, you take the afternoon. That’s how this works.”

Seokmin’s expression hardens just a fraction, the edge of desperation creeping in as he stands a little taller. “Seungkwan, I’m begging you to switch with me just this once.”

Seungkwan stares at him, weighing his options. His arms remain crossed, a stubborn defiance settling into his posture. “No way.”

With no other option, Seokmin huffs and crosses his arms firmly over his chest.

“Fine,” Seokmin finally says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “I’ll just go tell your grandma how many customers I’ve helped today and that all the displays were my doing and—”

“Okay, okay!” Seungkwan interrupts, throwing his hands up in surrender. “God, dude, you really suck. Don’t make this a habit, yeah?”

Spoiler alert: he would.

Seokmin’s face lights up with a grin. “Thank you!” he exclaims, not even giving Seungkwan a chance to protest before his apron is untied with a swift yank. It’s tossed into Seungkwan’s arms, and Seokmin is already dashing toward the back, his shoes clacking against the floor with each hurried step.

He doesn't wait for the usual stream of complaints to catch up to him, knowing full well that they’re coming. Quickly, Seokmin kicks off his non-slip shoes in one fluid motion, leaving them in a pile as he slides into his own sneakers.

Less than a minute later, he joins you by the door.

“Coffee time?” His tone is playful, and you mirror it as you nod once.

“Coffee time.”

The cafe has a few students scattered around with their laptops when you enter. There’s also a few others, people who Seokmin knows work in the stores and buildings nearby. They stop by occasionally for their lunch and coffee breaks, but even then, the cafe is emptier than it is most days at this time. Mr. Kim is alongside Joshua, tending to something on the register, when the two of you approach them.

“Morning,”

“Good morning, Seokmin.” Kim Jongdae offers the boy a warm smile.

There’s a bit of small talk exchanged between them—Mr. Kim asks about Ms. Boo and Seungkwan, Seokmin asks about his son’s birthday—until Seokmin goes to introduce you, but turns around to find you near the bookshelf once more. This seems to remind Mr. Kim of something he discussed earlier with Joshua.

“My answer is yes, by the way.” He starts, “Joshua asked me this morning. He said you, or rather, she wanted to borrow a book. Go ahead. It’s the least I can do to repay you boys for the hard work you do to make this place look nice.” Mr. Kim gives him a firm nod, patting Joshua on the back after briefly explaining a new menu item on the screen. He walks off, and Seokmin calls out to him.

“Thank you, really!” He turns to Joshua, “and thank you, too. I’ll get the same two drinks as yesterday. ”

“You got it.”

He pays quickly and turns around, pausing for a few moments to admire you before taking two long strides over. When he’s beside you, he lowers his head so it’s by your shoulder and speaks quietly, so as to not disturb you. “Which one piques your interest?”

“Which ones,” you correct, marveling up at him before looking back to the shelves. “There’s so many. I wouldn’t know which one to grab first if I could.” Your index finger comes up after a pause, “Maybe this one.”

“Go on, then.”

“I wish.” you sigh, and he can no longer withhold his smile.

“I’m serious. Grab it. I asked the owner for permission.”

Your head cranes slowly over to him, eyes so wide he swears he could have seen his reflection in them.

“Are you serious?” Your voice is soft, unsure, surprised, grateful. You’re almost not sure whether to believe him or not, but when his gentle brown eyes look between you and the book, and he gives you a little encouraging nudge on your shoulder as a go ahead, you finally move to reach out slowly and pick it off of the shelf, cradling it in your hands as if it was a precious thing.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to.” His voice is calm but sincere, and there’s a small, almost thoughtful smile tugging at his lips as he watches you. The shelf you’d been looking at earlier, once so absorbing, now feels distant as your attention shifts entirely to him.

You blink, unsure how to respond, and for the first time in a while, you find yourself lost for words. “Gosh, I-I don’t… I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He mutters with a crooked smile.

“Thank you.” You repeat the words, quieter this time.

“Anytime.” He shrugs. For a moment, the two of you are caught in a quiet, comfortable pause.

It’s only Joshua calling Seokmin’s name from across the room that snaps the two of you back to reality. You blink and suddenly remember—you’re the one who owes him a coffee, not the other way around.

“Wait, you ordered already?”

“I kinda had to.” Seokmin shrugs sheepishly, his eyes flicking over to the counter before returning to you. “Honestly, I’m more scared of going over my break time while Seungkwan is there than when it’s just Ms. Boo.”

“That’s your friend, right? Seungkwan?” you ask, tilting your head slightly.

“Yep,” Seokmin replies. “The one with the dyed blonde hair who always looks like he’s about to complain about something.”

“That’s Ms. Boo’s grandson, then.” You piece it together with a grin, and Seokmin hands you your drink. You take it but find your thoughts drifting again.

“What’s wrong?” Seokmin asks, noticing your distracted gaze.

“I still owe you,” you admit softly, looking down at the drink in your hands. “For the bag and the book.”

Seokmin bumps your shoulder lightly, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “I guess you’ll just have to keep stopping by.”

“I guess I will,”

To his delight, the rest of Seokmin’s shift was effortless and quick. There was the occasional bickering with Seungkwan, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. And, for some reason, he didn’t seem to mind it as much today. Because, waiting for him at the bus stop when he arrived later that very same evening, was you, eager to tell him all about the book you had started reading.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Seokmin had never been a fan of routines. His personality was spontaneous, and so the things he did on a day-to-day basis were too. Up until now, the only constants in his life were the flower shop and his friends, who provided their own random spontaneity in the form of unpredictable weekend plans or an ever-changing work environment that depended solely on which side of the bed Seungkwan woke up on that morning.

Seokmin gets bored easily, an issue he resolves with movie marathons or long walks or hangouts—just about anything will suffice, if it means his mind is occupied and distracted the majority of the time.

Lately, though, a new element has been introduced to his daily life. A routine.

A routine where, during every shift, you stop by after your time studying at the library and pick him up for ‘coffee time’ during his breaks (much to Seungkwan’s disappointment, coffee time was usually during the first half of the day). Then, you’d stay at the coffee shop reading the book—because despite Seokmin insisting that it was okay for you to take home, you’d always refuse—until his shift was over. He’d find you at the bus stop, waiting for him, and the two of you would chatter on until you were dropped off at your stop.

In a way, he had become dependent on this routine—something he thought could never happen. It was admittedly his favorite part of the day, catching up with you, hearing what you had to say or what thoughts you had cultured after your time reading the book. And when you finished that one a few weeks in, he made sure to take some new potted plants and flowers over to Mr. Kim in exchange for another.

And for some time, that’s the way things were. He had contemplated asking to do something with you outside of the usual bus or coffee shop pattern, but everytime he intended to ask, he’d cower and procrastinate. Next time, he’d tell himself.

Early on a Sunday morning, Seungkwan came into the shop rambling about how his Grandma was at his older sister’s house and wouldn’t be coming by. It’s not like the two of them couldn’t handle the shop alone—they had done it countless times before—but her presence was primarily longed for when it came to getting the two of them back on track. Especially on Sundays, where the task at hand was to clean, fertilize, and redecorate wilted displays. For obvious reasons, this was something neither of them enjoyed doing.

At the moment, it’s just him in the store. Seungkwan was taking his morning break that he insisted was non-negotiable today and Seokmin only agreed so easily because Sundays are the only days he doesn’t see you.

The doorbell jingles softly as you step into the flower shop, and Seokmin glances up from behind the counter looking for a customer or Seungkwan, his hands momentarily pausing in their careful arrangement of flowers. A surprised look crosses his face as you poke your head in.

“Hey,” he says, his voice lifting with a bit of surprise, but the smile that quickly forms softens his expression. “I didn’t think you’d stop by today.”

“Actually, I only came by to see Ms. Boo,” you tease, and Seokmin hisses through his teeth.

“I regret to inform you, she’s not in today.”

You grin, stepping further into the shop, the familiar floral scent filling the air around you. “I’m kidding. I was nearby and I thought I’d keep you company for a bit.”

“It’s not usually this quiet around here,” he says, his hands brushing against the flowers almost absently as he talks. “It’s kind of nice when it’s just me, but I guess I don’t mind the company.” He rolls his eyes, but it’s easy to see right through him when he’s so clearly beaming that you're here.

Your presence, standing so casually by the counter, feels like something he didn’t know he was waiting for. He’s used to the steady hum of the shop, the quiet buzz of the day, the mildly irritating sounds of Seungkwan, but with you here... it’s different. He can’t quite pinpoint why, but there’s a feeling in his chest that settles somewhere between contentment and something else he’s been trying to ignore for a while now.

Before he can dwell too much on it, the door jingles again, and Seungkwan strides in, looking as effortless as ever. His eyes dart between you and Seokmin, already catching the shift in the air.

“Why, hello,” Seungkwan says, grinning widely as he crosses the shop and leans against the counter. “I was wondering when we’d be properly introduced.”

“You must be Seungkwan,” you say, arching an eyebrow at Seokmin, who rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.

“And you must be Y/N. It seems like I took my break right on time.” Seungkwan continues, throwing an exaggerated glance at Seokmin. “He can’t shut up about you.”

Seokmin groans as he shifts uncomfortably behind the counter. “Seungkwan, please. You don’t have to make it sound so weird.”

You smile at the light teasing, the way Seungkwan’s attention naturally shifts to Seokmin with that familiar comfort only best friends seem to have. It’s clear they’ve known each other for a while. Seokmin, though, is less than amused by Seungkwan. His cheeks glow pink as he glares.

“Well, you are weird,” Seungkwan mutters.

“Alright, Seungkwan,” Seokmin says with a sigh.

“Okay, I’m off to the back to unload fertilizer.” He announces and you give him a polite wave as he turns to you, “It was nice to meet you.”

As Seungkwan heads out the back door, Seokmin lets out a quiet breath, shaking his head. The shop feels quieter, now that it's just you and him. It’s strange, but Seokmin finds himself oddly aware of the space between you two.

He glances over at you again, trying not to seem too obvious, but there’s something about the way you’re standing there—easy, comfortable, but somehow still pulling at him in a way he can’t ignore. His fingers hesitate over the vase in front of him, caught in the motion of arranging flowers but not quite focused on the task.

“So,” you say, breaking the silence. “I guess you get to work in peace for now, huh?”

“Yeah, it seems that way.” Seokmin huffs. He takes a step toward you, to reach for something behind you. His hand brushes over a batch of roses, then pausing as if he’s suddenly unsure of the next move, painfully aware of how close he’s gotten. He clears his throat, the casual tone of his voice not quite matching the thoughts swirling in his mind. “So, um... you like flowers?”

You tilt your head, a teasing smile on your lips. “Is that a serious question?”

“I-” Seokmin laughs softly, his fingers running over the petals of the flowers before grabbing them and attempting to focus on his station.

You lean a little closer, your voice light but playful. “Well, I like you, don’t I?” The way you say those words with a teasing tone makes Seokmin nearly choke, “So I kind of have to like flowers. Otherwise, how am I meant to hang around you?” You gesture at the shop.

Seokmin’s breath catches, and for a moment, he feels like he’s losing the thread of the conversation.

"I didn’t expect to find you working today. I didn’t even know the shop opened on Sundays," you say casually, glancing up at him. “I’m sure the flowers appreciate the extra attention.”

"I’m pretty good with the flowers, but I think they’d appreciate the company more if you came by more often."

You arch an eyebrow, “Oh? You think they’d enjoy my company more than yours?”

“I know Seungkwan would.” You laugh at this, and Seokmin revels in the sound, joining you.

After a pause, he shifts his attention back to the flowers, showing you the final product. “What do you think?”

“They’re pretty.”

“I think so, too.” He decides, not necessarily talking about the flowers, “Even though I was a little distracted.”

"Distractions can be good, though,"

"Well, you’re a pretty good distraction," he tries for the words to sound casual, but his tone betrays him. He also said it much quicker than he intended to, and he’s grateful for the chance to turn around while grabbing another pot because it offers him a means to hide his reddening cheeks.

You let the words hang in the air for a beat longer than usual, enjoying the teasing, the way it feels easy between you two. "Good to know," you reply, smirking.

Before Seokmin can respond, the door swings open and Seungkwan walks in again, wiping his hands on his apron and immediately launching into his usual dramatic self.

"I swear, I’ll never get used to that fertilizer smell," he complains, tossing his apron on a hook. He looks over at you and Seokmin, "Glad to know you two haven’t burned the place down."

You grin, "Not yet, but we’re working on it."

Seungkwan scoffs half-heartedly, glancing between you. "Nice to see him finally making some friends outside of the plants."

As Seungkwan heads toward the back, he gives you both a knowing look. “Don’t let him get too distracted, alright?” he calls over his shoulder with a grin.

“I’ll try my best.” You give Seokmin a wink and he shakes his head, showing you an idea for another potential bouquet.

The last hour passes seamlessly fast, now that you’re here. Before Seokmin knows it, you, him, and Seungkwan are locking up the store and parting ways from the blonde as the two of you walk side by side to the bus stop.

As he sits beside you on the bus later that night, looking over your shoulder at your collection of tapes for your walkman, he wrestles with the invitation that sits in the forefront of his mind. Spending time with you at the shop was great, but it somehow still feels like it follows your usual pattern. That, and Seungkwan’s presence, albeit lively and entertaining, keeps him from being able to spend as much time as he’d like with you—without the time constriction of a fifteen minute break or a forty minute bus ride. But like always, he decides to ask a different question in place of the one he really wants to.

“How come you use a walkman? I always meant to ask you.”

“I like the way the music sounds on it. I don’t know. It was my dad’s.” You smile warmly, “He used to let me borrow it when I was younger and I just kind of… inherited it.”

“It’s cool. Makes you look all mysterious. Like you’re from a different time.”

“You think?” He nods fervently, but your shoulders still sink in doubt as you fumble with the multicolored tapes. “Everything sounds nicer on it. When you listen to music on it, it’s like a mini time-machine. Or, it might just be me, I don’t know.”

“I’m sure it’s not just you. Here, let me try. Pick one for me.”

The corners of your mouth twitch upwards for a second as you ponder which song to play. Delicately, your fingers brush over each tape, hovering in thought like they had with the books on Mr. Kim’s shelf, until you finally land on one.

“It’s my favorite.” You tell him shyly, “I think you’ll like it.”

Carefully, you pull the cassette out of its case and click it into the audio player with a low snap. Seokmin watches as your hands slip the headset off from around your neck, watching as you shift in your seat and place them gently over his head. He tries not to think about how close your face is to his but… how can he not? You’ve leaned in to ensure that both spongy cushions are perfectly sat over his ears, and now you’re only a few inches away—close enough that he can catch the faint scent of your shampoo. It lingers, soft and floral, wrapping around him like the embrace of something he hadn’t realized he’d miss until you finally sat back, asking “ready?”

You press down on the play button and look up at him, eyes full of expectation.

There’s that familiar, comforting crackle of the cassette winding into motion, a sound that makes Seokmin feel as if he’s in an old-timey dream. And then, the music starts: your song—your favorite song—something you had chosen specifically for him to hear. Every note feels warm, intimate, melodic. For some reason, it temporarily diminishes his burning curiosity about you, but not because he finds himself any less intrigued, but because it finally feels like he’s taken a real peek inside your mind.

As someone who loves music, Seokmin is a firm believer that a person’s favorite song says a lot about them. The more it plays, the more he realizes that this song, in every sense of the word, is an extension of you.

As the melody flows, you watch him, eyes studying his reaction with that same teasing smile. You lean closer again, and he subconsciously holds his breath as you whisper, “Do you hear it?” He nods.

There’s a warmth in it, a rawness that makes it feel like more than just music. This was something deeply yours, a piece of your world that you were letting him in on, if only for a few minutes.

He listens with his eyes closed, letting himself drift along the rhythm, feeling the weight of each tone and key change and lyric the artist sings, full of intention. When he finally opens his eyes, he finds you still looking at him with a kind of question in your gaze, a quiet hope. The song fades out, but Seokmin keeps the headphones on for a second longer, letting the last notes dissolve into silence. He looks up again, meeting your gaze.

For a moment, he’s not sure what to say. Anything he could say feels too small, too plain for what he wants you to understand. So he starts with the only words that come out easily, his voice low and sincere. “I… I think I get it.” He pauses, then adds, “And this song… it feels like you.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly, a playful gleam in your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask, though there’s a softness in your tone, like you’re hoping he’ll really answer.

He glances down at the walkman, watching your thumb tracing along the edge as he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t know. It’s just… this song is so warm. It’s like the way you laugh, the way you make everything feel a little bit lighter.” He feels his cheeks warm but keeps going, his words coming out before he can second-guess them. “It’s like a piece of you, and I can feel it, even with my eyes closed.”

You go still, your expression shifting, the playful smile that played on your lips softening into something more serious. Neither of you say anything for a moment.

The bus begins to slow, and you both glance out the window, realizing this is your stop. You reach up, fingers brushing his ear as you gently pull the headphones from him, careful not to disturb the sense of closeness still hanging in the air. You slide the walkman back into your bag, a little slower than necessary, as if that might make the night last, if just for a few seconds longer.

“This is me,” you say softly, feeling the finality in the words as the bus comes to a gentle stop and the doors sigh open. You start to stand but pause, glancing down at him one last time. There’s something unreadable in his gaze, as if he’s searching for the right thing to say, something more than just “goodbye.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, your voice soft, almost hopeful.

He nods, his smile widening just a little. “Yeah,” he says, gentle but certain. “Tomorrow.” You’re about to turn around when he adds, “but not here. I want to go somewhere else with you. I mean, if you want to, that is.” He finds his breath catching again, “The flower shop closes early on the weekends. I was thinking... Maybe we could go to the beach?”

With a grin playing on your lips, you nod, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

Giving him one last glance, you turn and step off the bus, feeling the warmth of his gaze linger behind as you walk down the street. As the bus pulls away, you catch his face framed in the window, waving until you’re out of sight. And though the music has stopped, the tune of this moment plays on, promising something to carry with you both until tomorrow.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The sky stretches out in a hazy blue as Seokmin walks toward the beach, his guitar case slung over his shoulder. His fingers tap a nervous rhythm against its side as he looks around, hoping to spot you before you see him.

He barely slept the night before, having spent the better part of the morning hours contemplating and talking to himself with his guitar on his lap. It hadn’t been touched in nearly a year and a half, so he had to spend some time wiping it down, re-tuning it, and even fixing a string that had managed to come loose in the process.

He said he’d play for you, but then again, he hadn’t played for someone in a while and naturally, that made him extremely nervous, though that feeling didn’t even fully capture what he felt when he remembered he’d be playing for you. What would you think? Did you actually mean it when you said you wanted to hear him play? Or was that some automated response to boost his spirits? Would you even remember? It was weeks ago, on the first day at the coffee shop. Needless to say, he mulled over it endlessly.

Seokmin sighs, trying to calm himself down. By now, he had to slip off his shoes that were sinking in the cool sand, so he chooses to focus on the sensation of it against his skin instead of overthinking any longer.

He finally spots you standing by the water, arms wrapped around yourself as a light breeze blows through your hair. When you turn and see him, your face brightens, and that smile of yours—bright and open—fills him with warmth instantly. “Is that—” you begin, your eyes widening as you notice the guitar.

“Thought it was time,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal despite his heart thundering as he sets the guitar down and dusts off a spot in the sand beside you. You sit next to him eagerly, your excitement spilling out in the way you lean closer, eyes sweeping between him and the guitar case, as if you’re finally being let in on a long-held secret. And, in a way, you are.

He stretches his legs out, digging his heels into the cool sand. He watches you rummage through the tote bag beside you, and a curious smile tugs at his lips.

“You came prepared,” he chuckles, watching as you pull out a couple of neatly wrapped sandwiches and a small container of fruit.

“Of course I did,” you say with a smile, offering him a sandwich and holding out the fruit container. “I figured we’d get hungry eventually.” You shrug, glancing out toward the waves. “Besides, I thought it would be nice to have a little picnic.”

Seokmin accepts the sandwich with a grin, unwrapping it and taking a bite. He’s pleasantly surprised by the fresh crunch of lettuce and the perfect balance of flavors. “Did you make these?” he asks between bites, raising an eyebrow.

You nod, a bit of pride flashing in your eyes. “I did. You think I’d risk buying store-bought for a beach day?”

“Touché,” he laughs, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit container you’ve placed between you. “Honestly, this is already ten times better than what I packed.” He gestures vaguely to a plastic bottle and an uninspired granola bar that now seem almost laughable compared to your carefully prepared spread.

The sun has settled lower in the sky, casting the beach in a soft, golden haze. Seokmin leans back, resting his hands behind him as he glances over at you, a lazy grin playing at the corners of his mouth. The two of you have polished off the sandwiches, and now the empty wrappers lie folded beside the fruit container. He pops one last grape into his mouth, savoring the refreshing sweetness as he watches you tuck the food away with a little, satisfied sigh.

“So, did I earn any points for bringing the snacks?” you tease, dusting a few crumbs from your hands before looking over at him expectantly.

Seokmin laughs, squinting a little in the sunlight as he tilts his head, pretending to think it over. “Hmm… I’ll give you extra points for the sandwiches. But for the fruit,” he says, grabbing a couple of the last grapes with a mischievous smile, “I think you’ll need to try a little harder.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, leaning back beside him. “You’re just mad you didn’t think to bring anything.”

“Maybe,” he admits, laughing as he looks out at the waves. “But next time, I’ll bring something better.”

“Alright, big shot,” you say with a smirk, crossing your arms. “What’s on the menu then? A charcuterie board?”

“Definitely,” he says, nodding with exaggerated seriousness. “Maybe even some tiny, fancy desserts, the ones that look way too pretty to eat.”

“Sounds like you’re trying to impress someone.” You raise an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air just long enough that Seokmin can’t miss the playful edge in your tone. Not like he could have missed it anyway, with the way he hangs on your every word.

He laughs again, but there’s a slight flush to his cheeks. “Hey, I’m just saying I know how to put together a memorable picnic,” he says, attempting a casual shrug. “But, you know, only if you’re there to witness it.”

You grin, unable to help the smile that breaks through at his subtle, almost shy attempt at flirting. “I’d hate to miss such an extravagant spread,” you reply, matching his casual tone with your own. “Guess you’ll have to invite me.”

Seokmin pretends to think it over, tapping his chin. “Hmm, alright, you’re in. But no backing out,” he says, his smile widening. “I’m holding you to this.”

There’s an ease between you, a lightness in the conversation that feels effortless, and for a while, the two of you just sit there, chatting about nothing and everything. He asks you about your favorite places to visit and listens as you share stories about the other hobbies you have. In return, you ask how he met Seungkwan, and he tells you about him and Soonyoung, recounting each memory he has made with them with an enthusiasm that makes you feel like you were right there with him.

Then, as the conversation dips, he glances down at the guitar case beside him. He reaches for it almost absentmindedly, brushing his fingers along the edge of the case, but there’s a faint look of hesitation in his eyes that you don’t miss.

“You don’t have to, even if you brought it all the way out here. It’s up to you.”

Seokmin lets out a small laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he glances away. He’s more grateful for your patience than you could ever know.

“Yeah… I haven’t really played in a while,” he admits, his voice dropping slightly. “It’s been over two years, actually. I brought it… Well, because I think it’s about time I get back into the habit.” He trails off, watching the waves again, his mind flickering to a different time, a different place, one he’s not sure he’s ready to revisit.

There’s a quiet understanding in your eyes as you nod. You don’t press him, don’t ask for more details. Instead, you just let the silence stretch out between you, the sound of the ocean filling the space where words might have gone. It’s almost as if you’re giving him permission to take his time, to decide for himself if this is something he wants to do.

After a moment, he takes a breath, exhaling slowly. “I used to play a lot, actually,” he says, almost to himself. “Just… haven’t felt like it in a while.”

The air feels thick with unspoken things, but Seokmin pushes past it, fingers brushing the guitar case almost impulsively. The weight of the past lingers for a second, but with a quick glance at you, he lets go of the hesitation clinging to him. This is different, he reminds himself. This isn’t for anyone else, no memories he needs to cling to. Just the open beach, the sun dipping low, and you, waiting beside him with a patient, easy smile.

He pulls the guitar from its case, its weight grounding him, though it feels different today than it had last night. It’s less scary, now that he’s with you.

He glances over at you, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ready?” he asks. You nod, your eyes wide, leaning just close enough for him to catch the faint, floral hint of you drifting in the salt-laced air.

Seokmin strums the first couple of notes, letting the music rise and blend with the gentle crash of the waves. His fingers move on instinct, but his mind is all on you, capturing every little reaction—the way your eyes soften, the way your shoulders relax, reassuring him that his music is something you’ve been waiting to hear. He’s suddenly very relieved.

“I wrote this a few years back. It’s… Well, yeah. I think the lyrics speak for themselves.”

It takes a few seconds and one or two badly played chords for him to regain a little bit of the confidence he had lost some time ago. But his fingers find their place quickly enough, and he parts his lips to sing.

As Seokmin's voice fills the space between you, soft and hesitant at first, he notices the subtle shift in your expression. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, brows lifting in quiet surprise as if you hadn’t really expected him to sing so well. There’s a moment of stillness, only filled with his voice, warm and unpolished, floating in the air.

Your gaze flickers to and from him, watching the way his lips move to form each syllable, and then back to the water, where the waves blur in a streak of light. You can’t help but notice the way his face softens when he sings, his features loosening as he melts into the words.

You look back at him, your lips parting in surprise. There’s a shy kind of amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth, like you're unsure if it’s okay to smile just yet, but the quiet joy you feel is evident in the warmth that floods your chest. You tilt your head slightly, caught between admiration and a soft, disbelieving smile.

I should’ve told you I’m in love with you

Then I wouldn’t have been regretting right now

The longer you listen, the more the words he’s written seem bound to him, something like an itch he couldn’t reach. You find your lips curving upward again, but there’s a sad sentiment behind your smile this time, eyes full with a kind of quiet affection. Something tugs at your heart just then, causing your brows to furrow slightly. Maybe it’s from the lyrics he wrote, or maybe it’s the simple, unguarded way he sings, you’re not entirely sure.

When he looks up, your gaze meets his, soft and steady. You don’t speak when he finishes. Instead, you reach over, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your fingers as light as the spring breeze.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and in that moment, Seokmin realizes he doesn’t need to say anything at all.

You sit back, letting the sound of the water fill the space between you, the silence stretching just long enough for Seokmin to look out at the horizon, his fingers still idly plucking at the strings of his guitar. His expression has changed slightly, distant, like he's somewhere else for a moment, lost in thought.

You turn toward him, studying his profile. “Why don’t you play anymore?” you ask softly, not wanting to break the calm vulnerability of the moment, but still unable to ignore the quiet curiosity rising inside you. “I mean, you’re really good. Why keep it to yourself?”

He freezes for a second, his mindless strumming halting abruptly. He exhales, the sound almost like a sigh.

“I used to,” he begins to explain. His voice is quiet, almost like he’s talking to himself. “Back when I had someone to play for. It didn’t work out.” He swallows thickly. “She… She had been hooking up with her best friend practically since we got together.”

You wait, letting him speak, but his lips press together for a moment, unsure if he should say more. His gaze turns toward the ocean, but there’s a shift in his eyes, which are normally so kind and full of spirit—something like a hard edge, as if a memory he had thought of has sharpened into something more painful. “I played for her all the time.”

You can’t hide the surprise that flashes in your eyes, and Seokmin glances at you. He doesn’t want pity. He’s not asking for it.

“I stopped playing after that,” he continues, “It just... didn’t feel the same anymore. It was something I gave to someone who didn’t deserve it.” He shrugs, as if the words are too heavy for him to carry all at once.

You can feel the hurt in the air, hanging around him like a shadow. You want to reach out, but you don’t know how to offer comfort without crossing a line, so you just sit still beside him, close enough that he can feel your presence but far enough to give him space.

And at the time, you didn’t know it, but for him, it was enough.

After a long pause, you finally say, “I’m sorry. That’s... that’s a lot.”

He nods, and the tightness in his jaw softens slightly. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a little steadier. “But... maybe it’s okay.” Seokmin’s eyes flicker to you, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Today felt right, you know. Playing for someone who’s actually listening.”

And in the quiet that follows, he feels something shift between you, the weight of unspoken things starting to lift.

“Seokmin,” you say, your voice gentle, as if careful not to disrupt the quiet peace he’s settled into. He can tell you’re about to say something, maybe offer some comforting words about his story, but he’s already lost in thought.

It hits him, then, so suddenly it almost makes him laugh at himself. The way the late afternoon light catches in your hair, the soft curve of your smile, the way you’re watching him with that steady, thoughtful gaze. It’s all so striking that it feels like something he’s never noticed before, and yet it feels so familiar at the same time.

He decides then, that this is the prettiest you’ve ever looked.

Suddenly convinced you might be able to read his mind, he clears his throat, feeling a warmth creeping up his neck as he looks back down at the guitar, trying to hide the smile that’s fighting its way to his face. He wants to say it—wants to tell you that you look beautiful, that sitting here with you feels like some kind of dream he didn’t know he was allowed to have. But the words don’t come out; they sit, caught in his throat, trapped by the sudden nervousness that’s settled over him.

Instead, he finds himself brushing a hand over the guitar strings again, as if that small action might keep him grounded. “Thanks… for listening,” he manages, hoping it’ll distract from the fact that he can feel his cheeks warming.

You smile, nodding gently, still looking at him in that quiet, understanding way, and it only makes him want to blurt it out more. But for now, he lets the moment stretch, watching as you lean back in the sand, your gaze shifting back to the waves. The sun is sinking lower, and everything is bathed in that soft, warm light that makes the world feel as if it’s been suspended in time. And Seokmin realizes, right then and there, that this is one of those good memories he’ll hold on to; one he doesn’t intend to forget any time soon.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

It starts with a simple conversation over coffee, the two of you tucked into a cozy corner booth at the cafe, each with a steaming cup in hand as usual. It has become the norm, seeing you like this, nearly every morning and evening. Seokmin stirs a bit more sugar into his drink despite the crazed look you give him, then glances up at you with a warm, toothy smile as you tell him about your latest read. He leans in, listening intently, nodding as if every word you say is the most fascinating thing he’s heard all week.

When you pause, taking a sip of your drink, he takes a chance to jump in, “You know, I’ve been meaning to go to the art museum downtown. It’s supposed to have this new exhibit.” He hesitates, looking down at his cup for a moment, then back at you with a shy, hopeful glint in his eyes. “If… you’d want to check it out with me?”

You perk up at the suggestion, grinning. “I’d love that! Museums are kind of my weakness.”

Relieved, he chuckles, “Then we’re in good company,” he says, the words coming out a little softer than he intends. He clears his throat, trying to play it cool, but his heart beats a little faster as you chuckle.

“Alright, Mr. Museum,” you say, teasing. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Great,” he replies, glancing out the window at the overcast sky. “How about today, then?”

With a nod, you grab your things, sliding out of the booth as Seokmin hurriedly follows, waving goodbye to Joshua. As you both step out onto the sidewalk, he can’t help the familiar rush of excitement at the thought of spending the rest of the day with you. The two of you stroll side by side down the bustling street, exchanging small talk and the occasional smile, his heart lifting with every step closer to the city.

The walk to the museum is a mixture of laughter, subtle glances, and playful nudges that neither of you can seem to resist. The air is crisp, a light breeze tugging at your sleeves as the two of you meander down the busy street, dodging the occasional cyclist or dog walker. Every few steps, one of you makes a half-serious comment—maybe about the art you’re about to see, maybe about the bizarre mannequin display in a shop window you pass—and it doesn’t take long before both of you dissolve into laughter, your steps momentarily slowed as you lean into each other, trying to catch your breath.

Seokmin, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, finds himself glancing your way more often than he’d like to admit, watching as you tuck your hair behind your ear or lift your face to the sky for a second, enjoying the clouds. He doesn’t know why he feels like a kid right now, heart skipping with each shared smile and laugh, but he can’t seem to shake it. The closeness of walking side by side with you makes him almost giddy.

At one point, you nudge him with your elbow, a light-hearted challenge in your eyes as you try to keep a straight face. “So,” you say, feigning seriousness, “ready to become cultured?”

He rolls his eyes, laughing as he nudges you right back. “Please.”

Seokmin steps into the museum lobby with you by his side, wandering across the high ceilings and polished floors. There’s almost a sacred quietness to the place, the kind that makes every sound seem amplified, even the shuffle of your footsteps.

You hand him a ticket that you get from the booth, brushing his hand lightly, and he tries to hide his smile, hoping you don’t notice the faint flush that blooms in his cheeks. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous; he always is around you, but he never knows why. Somehow today, he’s more nervous than other days. Maybe it’s the atmosphere, or maybe it’s just you—standing there beside him, glancing around with the same sort of wide-eyed curiosity that makes him want to see everything through your eyes.

The two of you wander through the galleries, pausing in front of each painting and sculpture, taking your time. Every so often, you glance at him to see his reaction to something particularly strange or fascinating, and catch him already looking back, smiling at your expressions just as much as he is admiring the art.

“Do you think they meant to paint it like this?” you ask, leaning closer to a particularly loud modern piece that’s all bright, chaotic lines. Your voice is soft, as though you’re afraid of disturbing the tranquility.

Seokmin leans closer, squinting as if trying to unravel some secret meaning, though he hasn’t a clue what he’s looking at. “Maybe they were just… feeling inspired,” he replies, lips quirking with a grin he can’t suppress.

“Or maybe they dropped their paintbrush,” you add, matching his grin.

The sound of your laughter echoes slightly in the otherwise silent gallery, and for a moment, he’s aware of how close you’re standing. The space feels smaller, and though there are other visitors around, it feels for a moment like the museum is yours alone. You move on to the next painting, your eyes bright with curiosity, and he follows, longing to shorten the distance once more.

He notices a stray piece of hair that’s slipped from behind your ear, and without thinking, he lifts a hand to tuck it back. But at the last second, he hesitates, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder as he pulls his hand back, a shy red spreading over his complexion. You don’t seem to notice, lost in thought as you step closer to the next painting, tilting your head to take it all in.

At one point, you point out a painting of a starry sky, something dreamlike. “Imagine being under a sky like that,” you murmur, almost to yourself, your gaze soft and wondrous as you look at the canvas.

More and more often throughout the visit to the museum, Seokmin finds himself staring at you instead of the exhibits. On this specific one, he can’t seem to look away from your face, your expression so captivated, as if you’re somewhere far away.

“Maybe one day we can find a place like that,” he says softly, almost not meaning to say it aloud. When you turn to look at him, a bit surprised, he clears his throat, pretending to be suddenly very interested in reading the placard beside the artwork.

Seokmin finds himself feeling almost weightless, caught up in the dizzying whirlwind of his own thoughts for a minute. There’s something about you—something he can’t quite put a name to—that makes him feel like he’s constantly walking on a tightrope, and with each step, he’s leaning a little further in, a step closer to letting go of the balance he’s tried for so long to keep.

You whisper an eager “come on,” and grab his sleeve to drag him further into the maze of galleries.

As you wander into a room filled with ancient statues, he catches you examining one with a particularly serious expression. “Thinking of getting one of these for your place?” he teases.

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Only if you help me carry it,” you reply, and he finds himself grinning again.

Soon, you reach a new room, filled with work from the Renaissance, each painting rich with detail and vibrant colors that have held their vibrancy for centuries. You lean in slightly, admiring the delicate brushstrokes, and Seokmin watches you, his gaze drifting from the artwork to the fascinated look in your eyes—possibly for the hundredth time today.

“I feel like I’m supposed to be having some deep, life-changing revelation right now,” he whispers by your ear, half-joking.

“Who says art has to be that serious? Sometimes, it’s just… pretty.”

You’re just pretty.

As you move through the quiet museum halls together, Seokmin catches himself watching you again, realizing just how pretty you look in the warm glow of the exhibit lights. It’s not the first time he's felt this way; he remembers the flutter in his chest when you’d gone to the beach, and the way his thoughts had lingered a little too long on the curve of your smile. He watches as you lean a bit closer to a painting, eyes narrowing in focus, oblivious to his gaze. There’s a calmness to you here, the way you examine each piece as if it holds a secret, and he finds himself drawn to the little things: the way your fingers rest on your chin in thought, the faint lift of your brows when something catches your eye, and the gentle concentration in your expression.

He watches you for longer this time, taking advantage of the fact that you’ve busied yourself reading a plaque, and noticing things he hadn’t paid attention to before right now: today, your smiles linger a little longer, your laughter rings out just a bit brighter, and he finds himself captivated by these subtleties, like he's uncovering new pieces of you with each glance. When you look at him, eyes crinkling in a way he hadn’t dared imagine was just for him, his heart stirs, and he can’t shake the thought: Have you always been this lovely, or am I just starting to see it now?

His mind drifts, painting scenes of possibilities—fleeting, half-formed images of laughter, of late nights talking, of small moments shared just between the two of you. Each image feels almost real, so vivid he can practically reach out and touch it.

There’s a spark in his chest, a sensation that’s both exhilarating and terrifying. Part of him wants to pull back, to reel himself in, a quiet warning in the back of his mind whispering not to get carried away like he had before. But he can’t help it; there’s something magnetic about this, about you, something that pulls him closer despite himself.

He steals another glance at you, his heart racing as he does. You’re just looking at the art around you, as though this is any other day, but for him, it feels monumental. His thoughts get lost again, imagining what it might be like to hold your hand right now, to simply be beside you without any of this hesitation.

And then, you look at him and laugh, catching him staring, and his ears go red, a little embarrassed but somehow happy to be caught.

By the time you reach the last hall of artwork, the sun has started to set outside, casting a warm glow through the large windows. Seokmin watches as the light catches in your eyes, making them shine in a way that leaves him a little breathless. There’s a comfortable silence between you as you look around.

As you both step outside into the cool evening air, he catches your eye, intentionally this time, his smile small but genuine. “Thanks for coming here with me,” he says, his voice soft, almost shy.

“Anytime,” you reply, and the word feels like a promise.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The night starts with laughter and neon lights as Seokmin leads you through the bustling street to the karaoke room, his two friends, Seungkwan and Soonyoung, trailing just behind and rambling on about something indiscernible. The place is lively, bursting with music from rooms down the hall, each one echoing snippets of songs and off-key shouts.

Seokmin can’t help but beam when he sees how easily you fall into conversation with his friends, joining in their jokes and even taking a dig at Seungkwan when he hypes himself up as the “true vocal talent” of the group. Having heard Seokmin sing just a few weeks back, you couldn’t help but feel defensive on his behalf.

Once everyone’s settled, drinks start flowing freely. The first few songs are cautious, each of you easing into the familiar, buzzing rhythm of karaoke night. But as the night goes on, any sense of shyness melts away in the glow of pulsing lights and laughter.

Seokmin watches with undeniable fondness as you and Seungkwan bicker over song selections, and he tries not to grin too widely when he catches you belting out the lyrics with Soonyoung during a duet.

At some point, he notices how naturally you fit with his friends—the way you make Seungkwan laugh with a remark about his questionable song choices, or how you nod along enthusiastically as Soonyoung gives a dramatic toast, proclaiming you as “one of them now.” For Seokmin, it’s everything he hadn’t realized he wanted: his closest friends getting along with you.

As the night hums along, Seokmin picks up the microphone, sending you a lopsided, slightly tipsy smile that makes your heart flutter before selecting a song. His choice surprises you—it’s one of those classic ballads that’s probably too high for anyone but the original singer to sing. The melody starts slow, and his voice flows soft and easy, but with a control that reminds you just how talented he really is. You practically feel your admiration soar, and as you watch him, his hazy, glossed over eyes settle on you.

Every so often, he adds a bit of exaggerated flair, trying to coax a laugh out of you, playfully stretching out the notes or adding dramatic hand gestures to match the lyrics. It’s impossible not to smile, and you feel yourself relax as his antics draw you in. The song suddenly feels a little less serious, a little more fun, as he throws in a wink here, a knowing grin there.

As he finishes, you clap, unable to hide your smile. "You know," you say, a little breathless, "it’s honestly unfair that you’re this good."

He laughs, cheeks pink from both the praise and the drinks. “What can I say? Talent just comes naturally,” he jokes, a little bolder, that playful gleam returning to his eyes. Then he looks at you, his expression softening. “How about we do one together?”

“Oh no,” you protest with a laugh, shaking your head, “I can’t follow that.”

“Come on,” he coaxes, handing you a microphone and grabbing you by your hand to pull you to your feet, “I’ll sing the verses, you can handle the chorus. It'll be easy.”

With a mix of reluctance and excitement, both of which mix together with the alcohol in your system, you take the mic, scrolling through songs until you settle on something you both know—The music starts, and the two of you exchange a grin before starting.

At first, you both sing a little awkwardly, tipsy laughter interrupting every other line as you stumble over the lyrics and try not to trip over each other’s parts. But as the song goes on, you find a rhythm, and every so often, Seokmin leans into the mic to harmonize with you, his voice blending with yours. By the end, you’re both laughing, the microphones forgotten as you clutch your sides and stumble around, out of breath and giddy.

Seokmin looks at you, eyes bright, face flushed, smile so wide that you could count his teeth if you wanted to. He reaches out, touching your hand ever so lightly, his fingers warm and steady. “You did amazing,” he says, voice soft, his smile a little shy despite everything.

“Likewise,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you that’s more than just the drinks. And as you both sit there, you realize that there’s other people in the room.

Before you even have time to catch your breath, Soonyoung jumps up, grabbing the microphone. “Move over!” he declares with a grin, completely ignoring the indignant look Seungkwan shoots at him as he stands up to join him. “It’s duet time for real now.”

Seungkwan, rolling his eyes, snatches the other mic and leans in with a smirk. “Prepare yourselves. You two are about to be outshined.” He cues up a song with exaggerated flair, and the upbeat tune starts, loud and impossible to take seriously as they start belting the opening lines completely off-time.

“They’re usually better than this,” Seokmin tells you, “especially Seungkwan. I think it’s the alcohol.”

You laugh as you watch the pair start to coordinate with each other, finally managing to sing to the beat of the song.

“It’s good!” You argue, “Are you all just super talented?”

Seungkwan’s voice suddenly cuts through, loudly. “Hey! I can’t hear myself over you two!” He shoots you both a look, his mock glare breaking into a grin as Soonyoung pulls him back to belt out the chorus.

Seokmin shakes his head, laughing as he leans in closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours. “I warned you about them, didn’t I?” he says, his voice soft, he’s close enough that you feel his breath beside you, gaze lingering as he speaks. He’s a little past the point of tipsy, cheeks and nose slightly flushed, but somehow the hazy glow of the karaoke lights makes him look even softer, easier to smile at.

You giggle, feeling a little light-headed yourself, but whether it’s from the drinks or the warmth radiating between the two of you, you’re not entirely sure. Your eyes subconsciously bat at him as they trace his features, tugging at his heartstrings as Soonyoung and Seungkwan sing with wild abandon in the background.

Seokmin’s arm rests casually on the back of the booth behind you. “You know,” he murmurs, leaning just a bit closer, “I’m glad you’re here.”

The words are simple, but somehow they send a warmth spreading through you, making the whole room seem to slow down. “Me too,” you say, a little shy but meeting his gaze, feeling that same unspoken something settle around you.

Then, somewhere between another toast and Soonyoung’s next drink, things start to get a little fuzzy for him. Soonyoung has, predictably, taken things a bit too far, eyes glazed as he sways to the music, occasionally belting out lyrics that don’t match the song on screen. Seungkwan sighs knowingly, standing and giving Seokmin a helpless shrug. “I’m taking him home before he tries to start chugging Soju.” He nods at you, adding with a smirk, “Good luck with this one.” And then, with a wave, they’re gone, leaving the two of you in the dimly lit room, half-empty drinks scattered on the table.

Alone with you now, Seokmin’s pulse races, the soft glow of tipsiness making him feel both bold and nervous. The room feels quieter, somehow more intimate, with just the two of you here. He reaches for the remote, scrolling through song choices, trying to keep his eyes on the screen and not on the way you’re leaning back on the couch, your gaze drifting over to him with a glint he can’t quite decipher.

“Do you want to pick the last one?” he asks, his voice a little more shy than he intended.

You smile, shrugging casually, but he doesn’t miss the hint of a blush on your cheeks. “Only if you promise not to laugh if I butcher it.”

He grins, feeling his own face warm. “I make no promises,” he teases. But there’s something in his gaze—a hint of anticipation that he can’t quite hide, even if he tries.

As you start singing, he watches, captivated by the way you let loose, tipsy confidence making you bolder. The words are a little off-key, your voice rising and falling with the tempo, but to him, it’s perfect. When you’re finished, he can’t help but clap, cheering as if he’s at a concert.

“You sounded amazing,” he says, his voice softer than the playful bravado he’d intended. He feels a little too exposed under your gaze, a little too aware of just how close you’re sitting.

“Thank you, thank you,” you reply with an exaggerated bow, but your eyes linger on his a little longer than they should, and the tension between you feels thick, heavy with possibility.

He clears his throat, laughing nervously. “You’re going to put me out of a job with that voice.” But his words sound almost sincere.

There’s a lull in the conversation, a quiet beat where neither of you says anything, just looking at each other, the warmth of the drinks and the moment settling over both of you. You move a little closer, your knee brushing against his, and Seokmin swears he feels his heart stutter.

“Seokmin,” you say, voice barely a whisper, eyes bright with that boldness that only alcohol can provide.

“Yeah?” His voice comes out breathier than he intended, and he has to resist the urge to reach for your hand.

You smile, almost shyly, but there’s a warmth in your gaze that reassures him. “Thanks for inviting me tonight. I had… a really great time.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting yours. His hand, almost on instinct, drifts a little closer to yours, his fingers brushing against your knuckles.

As you step out of the karaoke bar, the cool night air feels refreshing, and Seokmin falls into an easy rhythm beside you. The streets are quiet, the lights soft and glowing, casting a warm hue on everything around you. He insists on walking you home, and you can see a bit of that familiar determination in his expression—a mix of sweetness and subtle nerves, the kind that makes him even harder not to smile at.

The two of you talk softly as you walk, laughter spilling into the night as you recount moments from earlier, but the conversation drifts into a quiet calm. Seokmin feels a little tipsy, though he knows it’s not solely the drinks making him feel this way. It’s the warmth in your laugh, the way your gaze lights up when you look at him. Everything feels a little brighter, softer, like the world’s colors are blurring into a hazy glow.

Eventually, you pause, looking over at the buildings below the hill you’ve climbed, and above them, the faint sparkle of stars cutting through the city’s glow. Seokmin stops beside you, following your gaze, but when he looks back down, it’s not the skyline he’s mesmerized by. It’s you, standing there with that quiet, contemplative look in your eyes.

At that moment, he’s overwhelmed. Something about this night, this moment, feels like a dream—one he’s afraid might slip away if he blinks too long. He wants to say something, to tell you how lovely you look standing there, bathed in city lights. He can feel his heart pounding. He’s been trying to find the right words for some time now, something that could capture the feeling building up in his chest when he’s with you. He’s not sure if it’s the night, the laughter still echoing in his mind, or just the way you’re looking up at the sky. Before he can overthink himself out of it, he takes a breath and speaks, his voice just a little unsteady. “You know… you look beautiful right now.”

It’s the first time he’s said something so openly to you, and he can feel his cheeks heat up the second the words are out. You turn to him, a bit taken aback, your eyes wide with surprise before a smile slowly spreads across your face, soft and a little shy.

The moment stretches between you, and for once, he doesn’t feel the need to fill it with laughter or play it off. He’s content just looking at you, watching that glow in your eyes as his words settle in.

A soft laugh escapes you, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, looking down for a second before glancing back up at him. “I was going to say the same about you.”

He can’t help but laugh, his own nervousness melting away a little. You both stand there, caught in the gentle pull between you, feeling a little bolder, a little lighter.

When you start walking again, his hand brushes against yours, and this time he doesn’t pull away, letting his fingers linger close enough that if you reached out, they’d intertwine. It’s a simple gesture, but it says everything he’s been holding back, and as you walk together through the quiet streets, he knows something has shifted.

The stone path thuds beneath your footsteps, clumsy and unsteady as you both navigate the uneven terrain, sharing quiet laughter over your shared lack of coordination. Seokmin, glancing down, suddenly stops.

"Look!" he says, his finger pointing at a small penny on the ground, glinting faintly in the light. “What’s this doing all the way out here? Take it. For good luck.”

You shake your head, amused, and explain, “It’s only good luck if it’s face up when you find it.”

“Ah.” Seokmin considers this, then immediately drops into a crouch, carefully flipping the coin over so Lincoln’s head is proudly facing the sky. He straightens up with a grin as if he’s just accomplished something important.

“What’d you do that for?” you ask, your tone laced with affection.

“Now someone else can have good luck,” he replies.

You feel something warm tug at you in response, watching him as he stands there, content with his small gesture of kindness. Suddenly, you see very clearly the kind of person Lee Seokmin is. It’s so like him—turning even the smallest, most mundane thing into something significant. As he begins walking ahead, you linger just a moment, looking back at the coin on the ground, then up at him.

You don’t move to follow him. Seokmin halts, slightly startled, his gaze questioning as he glances at you. But before he can ask why, you step closer, closing the space between you. You’re both quiet, caught in a bubble of giddy anticipation, his eyes searching yours, wide with surprise. And then, without a word, you reach up, resting a hand lightly on his chest, and lean in.

The moment your lips meet his, it’s like everything else falls away, replaced by a feeling that’s as soft as it is electric. He lets out a small, breathless laugh amidst his shock, hands stuck to his sides as your mouth presses to his.

When you pull back, you find him grinning, a little dazed, his eyes bright with surprise. Then he closes the space again, meeting your lips in another kiss, quick but more eager, like he’s savoring the feeling.

And then another. His hand drifts to your waist, drawing you in just a little closer each time your lips meet, each kiss growing a little bolder, a little sweeter, until the space between you disappears entirely. By the fourth kiss, his fingers have settled at the small of your back, warm and sure, and this time he lingers, letting the kiss deepen. It’s slow, unhurried, something unknown flooding through him as he feels your hand slide up to cup his cheek, tilting his face toward you so you can taste his mouth with ease.

You both feel a little unsteady, leaning into each other for balance, your hands anchoring each other as the world spins quietly around you. His heart races, thrumming against yours, and there’s a shy smile on his face when he finally pulls away, keeping his forehead close to yours, his eyes searching yours, dazed and happy and overcome with affection.

“I… I wasn’t expecting that,” he says, his voice a little unsteady but full of quiet excitement.

“I wasn’t planning it,” you admit, your cheeks flushed, but you don’t pull away, savoring the closeness.

For a moment, you both just stand there, eyes locked, breaths mingling in the cool night air, as if tethered to each other by an invisible string. Then, without thinking, you lean back in, your lips finding his once more. This time, there's no hesitation, no pause, just a shared need to be close—as close as possible. His hands tighten at your waist, pulling you in with a touch that’s both careful and desperate, as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

He lets out a quiet laugh against your lips, a sound that’s soft and breathless. It makes you laugh too, and you pull back for a moment, catching your breath, only to find his lips chasing after yours again. There’s something almost frantic in the way you keep returning to each other, like you’re both overwhelmed by the discovery of this closeness, unable to let it end just yet.

His hand moves gently to the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel the tenderness in his touch, in the way he’s holding onto you.

His voice is barely a whisper, warm and a little breathless. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His words, shy and sincere, only pull you closer. Hand in hand, you start walking, the quiet night around you filled only by the soft sounds of your steps. He keeps his grip loose, fingers intertwined with yours, thumb brushing along the side of your hand as if he can’t bear to let go ever again. You walk in silence, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering touches, both of you stealing glances, unable to stop smiling.

Every so often, he pauses, as if some thread is tugging him back to you. He leans in to press a brief kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your jaw, reeling over the way your eyes flutter closed from the feeling, and before you know it, his lips are back on yours. You laugh against his mouth, feeling both light-headed and grounded in a way that’s wholly new and otherworldly. He pulls back with a grin, his eyes crinkling, looking both bashful and thrilled, like he can’t believe this is real. You’re unreal, you have to be. A fabrication of his imagination, so delicate, so perfect, so you.

As you continue walking, his arm slips around your shoulders, drawing you closer to his side. You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, and the quiet contentment that settles over you feels as natural as breathing. When he stumbles slightly, you catch him, and he grins sheepishly, pulling you close again in a half-hug that turns into yet another kiss.

“I might never get home at this point,” You say breathlessly.

“Would that be so bad?” Each word is mumbled into your mouth as his fingers weave into your hair, holding the back of your neck and letting his tongue shyly lick your bottom lip.

The hum that you let out, either as a response to his rhetorical question or his tongue now moving against yours, makes his head spin. Your nails, raking down his chest over the material of his shirt, your hips pressing to his—it’s all too much and at the same time, not enough.

The closer you get to your doorstep, the slower your steps become, as if prolonging the walk will somehow stretch this night just a little further. Every so often, Seokmin pulls you close, and you laugh as he wraps an arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss you again, each one deeper and more unhurried than the last.

Neither of you speak, as if words would break the fragile spell cast over the night. Instead, you stand there, wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft, dizzying kisses that grow lazier, more lingering.

There’s a pause, a beat of hesitation, as he pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes warm and soft, and he murmurs, “I should probably let you go.” But even as he says it, his hand remains on your cheek as if he’s not quite ready to leave.

“Probably,” you whisper, lips barely brushing his, but neither of you moves. It takes a moment, maybe two, before he reluctantly lets out a quiet laugh and pulls away, his hand slipping from your cheek to squeeze your hand, holding onto you just a moment longer. He gives you one last look, filled with a warmth and tenderness that leaves you breathless.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asks softly, already a few steps down the hall, as though he’s hoping for just one more promise to look forward to.

“Soon,” you reply, smiling as he finally lets go of your hand and steps back, his gaze lingering on you as he walks away. You watch him go, the warmth of his kisses still lingering, the last few moments of the night settling over you as you turn to head inside, feeling light, tipsy, and wonderfully, utterly alive.

[click here to continue]

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dontaskmemybias · 2 days ago

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Pairing: Idol!Lee Know x afab Ninth Member!reader Request: Yes Theme: Friends to Lovers Contains: Anxiety, Hurt/comfort, jealousy, teeny angst if you squint. There is no smut in this part, its all buildup lmao sorry but there will be smut in the next part. Word Count: 10k+ Note: This is a work of fiction and does not portray any of the members irl. I decided to go with a friends to lovers slow burn since you wanted a longer fic anon and I figured I could do a bit more like this, and I was correct, I started writing and just like never stopped? This has become a behemoth of a story and I'll be releasing it in two parts because damn. I know you requested this like a year ago but life happened hard, hopefully you still get to read it.

Author's Personal Note: This week has been awful. I can't describe how tired and scared I have been since Tuesday morning. I haven't written in almost a year because my motivation just was not there and I don't know if it was the existential dread or the overwhelming urge to just be in control of some narrative that drove me to start writing this absolute beast of a story but here we are. Enjoy it, don't, I don't really care either way.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snow blankets the surrounding hills as you burrow yourself further into your winter puffer. The boys are all running around the field, throwing snowballs at each other and cackling wildly. You chuckle to yourself seeing their childlike display. You have all gathered to film SKZCode "Winter is Coming" (you and the boys had been binge watching Game of Thrones in your free time and decided to take a little inspiration from it for the title) You let out a laugh when you see Changbin nail Hyunjin in the back of the head with a snowball and in true Jinnie fashion Hyunjin dramatically flails on the ground until Changbin comes over to comfort him.

You had been through so much with these eight boys, late nights in the studio recording your parts until they were perfect, early mornings in the dance studio drilling choreography until it was perfect, you loved it all, but moments like these when you could all let loose and have some fun? Those were your favorites.

Being the only woman in the group was a bit of a challenge in some ways, but it was nice having eight guys to look out for you in every aspect of life. You had formed a bond with these guys over the years, each friendship blossoming and holding something unique.

If you ever needed a shoulder to cry on, you knew you could turn to your leader Bang Chan and he wouldn't just comfort you, he would help you figure out what to do. Only one year your senior and yet his wisdom was that of an 85 year old war vet. Chan was your rock.

Need workout tips or someone to belt girl group songs with? Changbin was your man. He was always willing to help you stay healthy, whether that be helping you with your fitness routine, or working on your mental health. Changbin was there for you when antis said you looked too fat and cheered you up all night. He was the ultimate hype man.

Felix was often in your dorm baking with you when you were stressed (stress baking is both a blessing and a curse). He would massage your shoulders when you got too tense. He really was the sunshine in your life.

Whenever you wanted to try something new—a restaurant, an online game, anything at all—Seungmin would join you. He would say he had been meaning to go there or try that anyway, and this just gave him an excuse, but you knew he did it, so you didn't ever feel lonely. He was like the little brother you never had.

You and Hyunjin bonded over your love for art. The two of you had done all the cheesy trends where you paint for ten minutes then swap paintings until they are both finished (it ended up with an abomination with a cat head and a wolf body, you named it Lee Bang after Felix, Bang Chan, and Lee Know, you both laughed so hard you were in tears) you also would often sketch one another to get better at portraits. Time spent with Hyunjin was always amazing.

Anytime you had a fashion emergency you knew you could count on Innie. He would roast your outfits when they were too "millennial sheik" as he would say, but then immediately assist. He was also great to couch rot and watch movies with on your off days. He was basically your bestie.

Anytime you were feeling down and you just really needed a good laugh you knew that you could turn to Jisung. You and Jisung had bonded very hard very early on because you both suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. The two of you had helped each other through so many at this point it was basically second nature. When you ugly sob in front of someone and they trust you enough to do it in return you know it's a friendship built to last. You and Jisung were basically soulmates.

Finally there was Minho. Your relationship with Minho was… interesting, to say the least. You grew close with him simply because he was your soulmate's soulmate. Anywhere Minho went, Jisung went, and anywhere Jisung went, you went. So the three of you grew very close very fast. Minho's sense of humor perfectly matched yours and the two of you would often bicker back and forth simply because it was fun and it often drove the other members crazy. The bickering started innocently enough, however, a few months ago something changed. The bickering you loved became… borderline flirty? The other members often referred to you both as a married couple and would call Jisung your son. It was all in good fun and it really didn't bother you, but every time someone outside the group made the same jokes, Minho would get this look on his face. You couldn't quite place the emotion behind it, but you recently found yourself thinking about it for much too long.

You are brought back to the present from your ruminating when something wet and cold hits the back of your head followed by maniacal laughter.

"Minnie, that was evil!" You try to sound mad but you can't hide the giggles that escape you at the younger boys' antics. He just sticks his tongue out as you and laughs while running away.

You are fully laughing now, trying to shake the snow out of your hair when you feel warm arms wrap around you from behind.

"You're shivering little moon bear" Minho's breathy chuckle ruffles your hair and you laugh.

Shuffling in his arms to face him you look up and pout. "It's cold out! Of course I'm shivering Min. And why do you insist on referring to me by my SKZOO?"

"Because I find the little pout you do every time I do adorable." He smirks down at you and you think the red adorning your ears is no longer just from the cold.

"YOH LOVEBIRDS GET OVER HERE IT'S TIME TO FILM!" Changbin's voice rings out over the set and you flinch a little which causes Minho to hold you just a bit tighter.

"Come on moon bear, time to film." He gently whispers to you while tucking you under his arm and leading you toward the group.

~✨~

Filming was going great! Sledding with a pitcher of water was pretty hard but you had loads of fun and managed not to come in last. When it came to the balloon popping portion Minho decided to come behind you like he had before filming and wrap his arms around you.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear "You looked cold again little moon bear." You chuckled when he began swaying you both side to side.

"You're going to start a dating rumor if you keep this up Min." You whispered back.

"Let people talk, how can I just stand by while my favorite girl freezes?" Your breath hitched a little at the comment, whispered so close to your ear you could almost feel his lips on your skin.

"Fair, but you have to deal with the staff if it becomes a problem." You sighed out, settling into his warm arms.

He was glued to you for the rest of the shoot.

~✨~

After getting home from the very fun, very cold, shoot, you decided to take a nice long hot shower and then maybe order some delivery when you got out.

You took your time in the shower until you were basically out of hot water then wrapped yourself in your fluffiest towel and went to the kitchen for some water. Your heart almost fell out of your ass and you let out a shriek when you walked by your living room and saw two people sitting on your couch.

"Y/NNIE My eardrums! Why did you have to scream so loud?" Jisung wailed from his spot on the couch.

"Yeah you baby it's just us damn." Minho scoffed. They both froze when they turned and saw you in just a towel, Minho's ears turning a fiery red and Jisung's eyes going wide. They both quickly looked away and started stammering out apologies, not realizing your state of dress. You let out a giggle at their reactions.

"Chill guys, you act like you've never seen a girl in a towel before, you just scared the shit out of me because I didn't know you were coming." They both let out a little laugh at that and relaxed a bit into the couch, still looking anywhere other than at your towel-clad form.

"Sorry, we wanted to surprise you with Kimchi Jjigae since you were so cold today and maybe watch some movies?" Jisung said quietly.

"You brought food? Ignore my previous complaints, Ji, Min, you are both angels who could do no wrong and I love you with all my heart! Let me put some clothes on then we can watch whatever you want yeah?"

"Yeah" "Sounds good" The boys yelled back as you went to your room to change.

You all spent the rest of the night tangled up on the couch watching shitty rom-coms

~✨~

The next morning after dance practice you get home and shower then realize that you're finally going to have a morning free the next day. Scrolling through your phone looking for things to do you come across a poster for the newest horror flick that's showing tonight. You screenshot it and drop it into the group chat titled "SoulBros" Jisung's idea.

SoulBros:

JiJi😘🥰😂: Oh hell no! That movie looks way too scary! Sorry love ur on ur own.

Min😈😘😜: Sorry I promised Lix I would help him with the new choreo.

🌝Bear: You both suck :/ Guess I'll go alone.

JiJi😘🥰😂: Noona ur so old just use emojis 😑

You laugh at Ji's dig; it is accurate. You guess it's time to pull out the big guns. You dial the number on your phone, and on the third ring, it picks up.

"Yes old lady?" You scoff at his (fake) disrespect.

"Minnie, I want to go see the new horror movie tonight because we have a free morning tomorrow but Ji is too scared to come and Minho is busy. Should I go alone?" You bite back your smile knowing what he is going to say.

Seungmin's voice cracks a bit over the phone call and you hear sheets rustling. "That new one about the witch in the woods? I've actually been wanting to see that too but everyone's too scared to come with me. I could go with you if you want?" You smile to yourself, you knew he wouldn't let you go to the movies alone, let alone to a horror film.

~✨~

"That was INSANE! I had no idea he had a brother the whole time!" You are bouncing up and down, filled with adrenaline from the movie.

"Yeah, that was a twist I actually didn't see coming. Pretty crazy." Seungmin is acting all calm but you know he enjoyed the movie as well.

"Hey Minnie, thanks for coming with me. I had a really fun time!" You say while ruffling his hair.

"Yeah yeah, like I said, I wanted to see it too."

"Hey wanna go grab some food before we go home? There's this hot pot spot nearby I've been dying to try!" You look at him with puppy-dog eyes and he lets out a sigh.

"Yeah I'm pretty hungry, and hot pot does sound amazing right about now."

~✨~

After stuffing your faces at the new hot pot place you finally made your way back home. Walking in you let out a long satisfied sigh and take off your shoes.

"Someone's home late." You nearly jump out of your skin at the grumbly voice coming from your living room.

"Jesus Fuck Min one of these days you're gonna give me a heart attack!" You yell out while grabbing a blanket from your armchair and bringing it to the couch where you unceremoniously plop down next to Minho who acts annoyed at your proximity but is quick to wrap an arm around you.

"Where were you? I've been here for like thirty minutes." He almost sounds… worried? Angry? You can't place it.

"Oh I just went to see that movie I texted you and Ji about then went and got some hot pot."

"Alone?"

"Oh no, Minnie came with me. Said he had been wanting to see the movie too but you know that kid, he just doesn't like me doing things alone." Minho grumbles something that you can't quite make out but then squeezes you to his side and turns on the TV.

"What was that Min?"

"I would've gone with you." He looks you dead in the eyes when he says it. You can't figure it out but it almost seems like he's mad at you?

"Well sorry Min, you said you were busy and I didn't know you wanted to see the movie too, I'd see it again if you wanted to go see it?" You try smiling at him to quell whatever was going on with him and it seems to work because he cracks a tiny smile and just pulls you closer to him while putting on the first shitty rom-com he sees.

~✨~

It was finally time for the next SKZCode! The staff didn't tell anyone what these episodes would be about but said you would all have fun.

You walked into the studio and saw a giant game board and war flashbacks of the last time you all played monopoly flashed through your mind. Images of Hyunjin screaming at Seungmin for putting a hotel on the most expensive rent on the board and Seungmin's shit-eating grin flashed through your mind.

The staff quickly explained the game and everyone got super excited. SoulRACHA was glued together any chance you got as per usual and everything was going great… until they announced the heart fluttering game.

Now, you wouldn't say your heart fluttered easily, if Felix had tried to get your heart racing you're sure you would be fine. Changbin? Piece of cake. Of course, you've never been very lucky.

You get paired with Minho. The expert at getting you worked up. (When you bicker! Get your mind out of the gutter.)

"Will you be able to hear what we say?" Minho tries to look innocent as he asks the question, but you can already feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Only if you speak loudly, we decided it would be more fun if STAY can't hear what you whisper to each other." One of the staff quickly explains.

Minho's grin turns sinister and a single thought crosses your mind.

I am so fucked.

Minho stalks toward you once the camera starts rolling and comes around behind you to wrap his arms around you like always. You can handle this, this is normal for you two. Your heart rate stays the same.

You feel him lean in until his lips are almost touching your ear.

"Hey there, little moon bear. This skirt you wore today is very pretty, did you wear it for STAY or for me?" He whispers so only you can hear. He is so close to you that you feel his breath tickling your ear.

The ears wiggle a little bit then settle. You can do this Y/N, Pull it together.

Minho notices and chuckles, pulling you tighter against him.

"I'm sure your pretty skirt would look even better with someone's hands underneath it."

You let out a gasp and the guys go wild. You know STAY's are going to have a field day with this footage. You are now squirming in Minho's tight grip, trying to escape his now searing hands, bright red spreading across your face.

Minho almost sounds surprised when he breathes out "Shit."

You think about his words and his arms wrapped around you all night.

~✨~

MinBear has become your official ship name from STAY's, after Minho's stunt during the last SKZCode STAY have been posting online about the possibility of you two dating.

You, Minho, and Jisung just laugh about it whenever it gets brought up and everything seems to go back to normal between you and Minho.

If you dream about him whispering those words in your ear at night, well that's just nobody's business.

~✨~

During the next SKZCode the staff decides to play into STAY's delusions and make you and Minho play husband and wife. The catch? Minho is the wife.

~✨~

"HAHAHA HYUNG, NOONA, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!" Innie's voice carries across the room when you and Minho walk into the room. Minho is in the brown wig from SKZ Family, a gaudy pink dress with far too many ruffles, and ballet flats with little pink bows on them while you are wearing a wig with a receding hairline (bye bye idol image), a flannel shirt, and blue jeans. The boys all burst out laughing when you two strike a pose and show off your "wedding rings" (they are blue raspberry ring pops).

"Hello everyone! I am Joe and this is my second wife Mindy!" You smile at the group and they all start howling with laughter one again.

You both decided to play into the roles WAY too much to hopefully show STAY that you two really are just best friends. You don't need the dating rumors to turn into a full blown scandal.

"Oh baby, dear, my loveliest little sunflower, who do you think is the killer?" You turn to Minho and try to hold back your laughter at seeing him wrestle with the ruffles that keep coming up from the collar and tickling his nose.

"Oh my handsome, manly, bravest lionheart, I think it was that barista for sure!" He looks up and bats his eyelashes at you for dramatic effect.

And for some reason, instead of spewing back some heinously cheesy line, you are struck with a totally unwelcome thought.

Minho is so Pretty.

What the fuck?

~✨~

The rest of the shoot goes by fairly quickly. It devolves into chaos, as things normally do with the nine of you. But the rest of the time you are a little more fidgety than usual. The unwelcome thought about your best friend Minho burrowing into your brain until it fully settles and the shoot is over and you are left with the realization that your best friend is pretty.

You'd rather not unpack that.

~✨~

A few weeks pass by and you successfully manage to bury your realization about Minho deep in your subconscious to the point where you haven't thought about it in two whole days! (That's impressive! Really! You initially thought about it at least five times a day… okay like five times an hour)

Finally the group had a whole weekend off! No SKZCode, no crazy schedules, just you, your two best friends, a mountain of takeout and snacks, and a movie marathon.

"Pass the popcorn Ji!" You made grabby hands at Jisung and he just laughed and passed over the bowl.

"Oi! Ya big babies scooch and make some room I wanna be in the middle." Minho yelled out, passing you both a soju bottle.

"Oooohh hyung you know me so well! I love the Strawberry soju!" Jisung grabbed his bottle, smiling up at Minho.

"And you got me yogurt flavored? You must really love us Min!" You smiled up at Minho.

Minho looked down at Jisung then over to you where his eyes lingered a beat too long. You held eye contact until it was a bit too much for you and you looked away. You heard Minho let out a small chuckle as he sat between you and Jisung.

"A toast! To my two best friends, Soulmates, and other cheesy shit!" Minho laughed while raising his own soju.

"To other cheesy shit!" You and Ji said in unison, toasting and gulping down some soju.

You three continued drinking and laughing and having a blast while the movies played in the background. At some point Minho had put his arms around you and Ji and the two of you were snuggling into him watching the movie. You were pulled out of your focus when you started to hear soft snoring coming from Minho's lap where Jisung's head was resting. You smiled and reached over to softly comb your fingers through his hair. You felt Minho softly chuckle under you and you lifted your head to meet his eyes where he was smiling down fondly at you and Ji.

"You two are so adorable, " he said softly, trying not to wake Jisung. You smiled, and your hazy mind decided that was the moment to open the box you had sealed shut weeks ago.

"You're so pretty Min." You all but whispered the words, but Minho heard you loud and clear. His breath lightly hitched and he raised his hand to stroke your cheek.

"You are so beautiful my little moon bear."

~✨~

Weeks passed and the movie night incident was never spoken of. The shared moment between you and Minho had been something so soft and intimate you were afraid of what you would say if he ever brought it up. But thankfully he never did. So you just went on with your life. Your schedule was about to get busy again anyway so there was plenty to keep it out of your mind… right?

~✨~

You can't get it out of your head. No matter what you do it is all you can think about and it is stressing you out. So you do what you do every time you get stressed.

You bake.

After gathering all the ingredients you snap a picture and send it off to Felix.

Y/nnie🤩🧁: [Photo Attached]

Lixxie🍰🍫: I'm on my way.

Felix knew you really only baked when you were stressed out since you never really had the time but the act made you calm down a bit so when he got the picture of all the baking supplies he must have known that you needed a friend because not even twenty minutes later there you were in your kitchen baking enough brownies to feed a small town.

"Soooo, you gonna tell me what brought this stress baking spree on?" He asked softly like he was coaxing a cat out from under the bed. You almost wanted to laugh.

"What gave me away?" You laughed.

"Well when you are baking just to bake you usually only make enough for the nine of us, this is enough to feed the whole company Y/nnie, so tell me what's going on?" You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and put down your baking tools.

"Lix I don't even know what's going on to be honest. Things with one of my good friends have recently gotten a little…tense? Weird? I don't know. And I don't know if it's just me or if they are feeling it too you know?" Felix is looking at you like he knows exactly what you're talking about and you briefly panic wondering if he can read minds. Then he lets out a sigh and pulls you in for a hug. You melt into his familiar embrace and allow him to hold you while he slowly speaks.

"Things being weird between friends is never fun. In my experience the best way to fix things is through open communication. Just tell this person what you feel and see if they feel the same then go from there." He says while slowly stroking your hair.

"That's the issue Lix, I don't know what I am feeling."

"Ah, well that seems like a good place to start then yeah?"

~✨~

You haven't had time to think about what you and Lix had talked about. Between recording and practicing choreography you barely had time to eat let alone think. So you focused on work. For now.

The next scheduled SKZCode was going to be a haunted house.

Now here's the thing. Haunted houses are objectively not scary. HOWEVER, if someone with you jumps, you tend to jump as well. If someone screams, so do you. So if you are paired with a scaredy cat, you will get scared. And the staff love to make you seem extra cutesy since you are the only girl so of course you get paired with Minho and Jisung.

Jisung is going to get scared. You know in your heart that he is going to scream and he might even cry. Minho on the other hand is going to try and scare you and Ji, and it is going to work. You know this because the three of you have gone to haunted houses together before and that is exactly what happened.

So you resigned yourself to your fate.

~✨~

"Noona, hyung, I am so scared, what if a real monster snuck on set and is hiding with the staff members and it sees us and eats us?" Ji whimpered as he clung onto one of Minho's arms.

"Sungie that's silly, a monster wouldn't eat us here on camera, it would follow us home and eat us there so there was no proof!" Minho snickers as you whack his side.

"Don't scare our poor Ji any more than he already is Min! His poor little heart can't take it!" you hiss at him under your breath. Your slightly shaky voice gives away the fact that you too were getting scared.

"Oh relax y/nnie, Sungie and you are gonna be just fine with me here to protect you." Minho said softly while squeezing you a little more into his side.

Well that was new. He'd usually make fun of you for getting scared and try to rile you up even more. But his tone… it was the same one he had used during the movie night.

That was definitely something you didn't want to think about right now while you were on camera.

You continued through the haunted house, nothing really getting to you, until you opened one room and walked into complete darkness.

Your breath hitched and you clung to Minho a bit tighter. He responded by rubbing soothing circles onto your arm and pulling you a bit closer into his side.

The lights came on and a staff in a costume jumped out and scared you. You and Jisung started screaming and Minho flung himself in front of you. Your eyes widened at the gesture and you looked over to Jisung only to see him looking between you and Minho with a questioning look on his face. This was definitely going to cause a dating scandal if you didn't do something quick, so without skipping a beat you grabbed Jisung and dramatically clung to him. He seemed to get the message and reciprocated. The both of you clinging onto one another while yelling. The whole scene was honestly quite hilarious and adorable.

Minho seemed to come out of it and turned around to see his two best friends clinging onto one another dramatically and cracked a smile before full blown laughing at you two. You and Jisung slowly looked at one another and slowly detangled your limbs, then burst out laughing.

With the tension dissipated you all went through the rest of the haunted house without any further incidents.

Yet Minho's tone rang in your ears, reminding you of what he said last time

"You are so beautiful my little moon bear."

~✨~

The next SKZCode was coming up and the group had been gushing about it the whole time. A camping trip! You would get to play games with the guys, eat delicious food, and even go fishing! The catch? You would all be sleeping on the floor in the same room. Normally this would be no problem. You would cuddle up with Jisung and Minho and all would be good. Now though?

You decided to finally listen to Felix and figure out what you were feeling by laying out some facts.

Fact one: You think Minho is pretty, like unfairly pretty, but then again so does everyone else. So that could mean anything really.

Fact two: Minho acted really weird when you went to the movies with Seungmin, something you do very frequently. You have no clue what that was.

Fact three: When Minho whispered something dirty in your ear it caused something to flutter in you. He was just joking and trying to get your heart racing for the game so surely it meant nothing right?

Fact four: You called Minho pretty and he called you beautiful. You had said things like that before but never whispered and inches from each other's faces… That one… you don't know what to do with.

Fact five: You are clueless as to what all this means.

Cool. Well that was a waste of time.

~✨~

You and the boys piled out of the cars and started to get everything ready for the night. You split off into groups, people needed to go shopping, people needed to cook, people decided to do each other's hair? Not really sure what that has to do with camping but you, Minho, and Jisung gave each other silly little hairdos and everything was great. The day absolutely flew by and you were doing so great not thinking about the way Minho makes you feel.

Finally you were all seated around the campfire. Jisung got saddled with cooking everyone breakfast in the morning and even though he is your best friend you do not want to wake up early so you start to devise a plan to get out of it.

Chan peels Jisung a sweet potato to appeal to him. Damn that's hard to top. You are scrambling to come up with something to top that and miss what is being said until you hear Minho's voice.

"I won't be fake either. I love you."

Everyone burst out laughing at Minho's proclamation to Jisung but you feel… weird. You are looking between Jisung and Minho and there's this pit in your stomach, almost like…

No fucking way.

No way are you jealous right now.

Jisung and Minho are best friends just like you and Minho and you and Ji are… and yet…

Shit.

Everything starts to make sense, the bickering, the playful flirting, the butterflies in your stomach.

You have a huge fucking crush on Lee Minho.

As you come to this realization, you lock eyes with him from across the campfire. His smirk softens, and he gently smiles at you.

Oh fuck, what are you going to do?

~✨~

You all lay down for the night and as usual you are sandwiched between your two boys, not so usual, you are clinging to Ji like your life depends on it and are slowly scooting further from Minho's touch.

He giggles probably thinking you are messing with him and grabs your waist to pull you flush to him.

"Where do you think you're going, little moon bear?" He whispers into your ear.

You almost whimper. Almost. You manage to pull your shit together because you are all still on camera and make a show of grabbing for Jisung in front of you.

"I'm cold! I need Ji's heat or else I'll die in the night!" You say dramatically, trying to play it off. Minho must buy it because he remains silent behind you and the three of you get cozy before eventually falling asleep.

~✨~

You wake up in the morning With Minho's entire body wrapped around you. Jisung is trying to get up so he can go to the store with Chan.

"Noona, I've got to go so I can make you breakfast, promise I'll be back soon." Jisung laughs as you pout at him leaving you and you sigh and grumble. You are still a bit cold so you shimmy around so you are now facing Minho.

He is still asleep, so you allow yourself to look at him. You take in his cute little bunny teeth, the little mole on his nose, and his eyelashes fluttering. Oh, his eyes are open, and he caught you staring.

Well that's fucking embarrassing.

He just smiles and pulls you in a little tighter, looking back at you. His eyes pass from your eyes, to your freckles, and down to your lips where he lingers for a moment too long. Then he looks back into your eyes.

"Good morning moon bear." He softly whispers. You feel his breath fan against your face and you try not to let your eyelashes flutter at the action.

"Good morning Min." You whisper back. His eyelashes do flutter and you have to hold yourself back from jumping to any conclusions. For a few moments you just gaze into each other's eyes in silence. Finally he reaches a hand up and brushes your cheek.

"Beautiful." It's the smallest whisper but you are barely an inch from his face so you catch it. Minho adjusts his hand so he is now cupping your cheek and your heart starts to hammer in your chest.

Is he about to kiss you?

"Min." It's a breathless whisper, you're so close to him now you're sure he felt it more than heard it.

"WHO WANTS RAMYEON?!" Jisung's voice wakes everyone up and the moment passes. Minho's eyes close and he seems to be frustrated.

You are dying inside.

Was he about to kiss you?

~✨~

The day passes too quickly. You all eat and play games and everything is totally normal on the surface. You have to be normal because you are being filmed. Minho doesn't act any differently, he certainly doesn't bring up the almost-maybe kiss. You decide that if he wants to talk about it then he will talk to you. So you do what you do best.

You perform for the camera and ignore your stupid feelings.

~✨~

You're full on spiraling at this point. Every time you close your eyes you see Minho gazing into your eyes, about to pull you in.

You shake your head. No, this isn't real. Your silly little crush is making you delusional. Minho wasn't going to kiss you, he just called you beautiful and held your face because… because… well you can't think of another explanation, but there must be one because it has been days and Minho hasn't brought it up and if he wanted to kiss you then surely he would have brought it up… right?

Fuck this.

The next SKZCode is coming up and you can just focus on that and not Minho's sparkling eyes, his plush lips, his little nose mole… Fuck. You are officially down bad.

Well you know what that means.

It's time to do something stupid.

~✨~

"Innie! I need your help!" You shout as you walk into the boys dorm. The brunette pops his head out of his door and looks you up and down.

"Yeah I'd say you definitely do." He says distastefully.

"Damn child who raised you?"

"Definitely not you Noona or I'd be dressing like a Target commercial."

You both burst out laughing at that.

"Fair point, but seriously, I need your opinion on what to wear for the next SKZCode."

"Oooh a fashion emergency? Of course you would come to me! Well come right in Noona, we will fix that god awful outfit you've got on in no time!"

He grabbed your hand and dragged you into the room.

"So are we going for Kawaii like usual or did you want to look like one of the guys? I know this is acrobatics so we are looking more toward athleisure type outfits." I.N. says all of this while digging through his closet looking for the stash of your clothes he hid in there.

"Well I was actually thinking I wanted to look… sexy?…" I.N. froze in his closet when you spoke. "I mean obviously not like crazy sexy or anything I just want to look really good you know? Not like a cute little girl and not boyish either. Does that make sense?" I.N. stood up and slowly turned to look at you with a Cheshire grin on his face.

"Noona. I have been waiting my whole life to hear you say those words."

~✨~

You look hot. Holy fuck you have never looked this good in front of the guys. Even at premieres and shows you've always been kawaii or dudebro to match the guys but this? The crop top Innie puts you in fits you in all the best ways, it's low cut enough to be provocative but not enough to be slutty. The back is cut out and it is the perfect shade for your skin tone. But the pants. My god your ass has never looked more smackable. It's like I.N. knew exactly who your target audience was. Your hair is done up in a cute curled pony with the little strands hanging out the front.

You look like sex on legs.

"Jesus Innie you're a god at this."

"I know, I take payment in food and coffee."

"Innie I'd buy you a five course meal for this shit god damn."

You both started laughing and he reached behind him to grab something.

"The final touch."

~✨~

You walked into the studio and it suddenly got very quiet. All the boys were looking at you with varying expressions.

"So? What do you all think? Didn't I do an amazing job?" I.N. grinned at the rest of the guys who were ranging from outright ogling you to shyly avoiding your gaze.

"Yeah Innie you did great." Chan was the first to speak and after that the compliments kept flowing from everyone except the one person you wanted.

Oh well. Onto phase two.

~✨~

You made sure to get a spot right in front of Minho so he could see the full extent of Innie's 'final touch'. A bow in your hair long enough to basically make a runway to the swell of your ass.

The episode went by pretty fast, you were actually having a lot of fun doing all the poses. You noticed when you did the mermaid pose Minho made a noise, a grunt? Maybe a gasp? Whatever it was you were certain your plan was working. Now all you had to do was actually talk to him about what you felt like Felix had recommended.

Once the episode was over you headed over to Minho.

"Hey, Min, you got a sec?" You put your hands behind your back to maximize the silhouette's effect.

"Actually no, sorry, I've got to get home, lots of stuff to get done. I'll text you later okay?" Minho was avoiding your eyes and shuffling from one foot to the other.

"Oh, okay… I guess I'll talk to you later?" You leaned your head down to catch his eye and when he finally locked eyes with you his gaze was searing and sent a chill down your spine.

"Yeah."

~✨~

Well that was fucking weird and definitely not the reaction you had been hoping for. Mr. Self proclaimed butt hunter didn't even attempt to slap your ass in these phenomenal leggings you wore just for him. You groaned into your pillow and allowed yourself to feel frustrated. Any time you had big feelings like this there was always one thing that helped.

You shot Hyunjin a text and after receiving a confirmation you headed to the art studio.

~✨~

Lo-fi music playing on the speaker, a nice hot cup of coffee sitting next to you, and a medium blank canvas sat in front of you, what more could you want? You let the atmosphere wash over you as you tried to use your frustration to create a work of art.

You have no idea how much time has passed, you never do when you're painting with Hyunjin. You could occasionally hear his soft humming and brush-strokes glide across his canvas.

Time with Hyunjin always seemed to calm you down. Maybe it was the chill playlist he favored for the occasion, maybe it was the smell of coffee in the air, or maybe it was the way he simply existed with you in the moment, not requiring you to engage.

You added the final touches on the canvas and nodded to yourself.

"Hyune?" Hyunjin hummed in response.

"What do you think of this one?" You gestured to the finished piece in front of you. Hyunjin stood up and stretched before coming over to admire your work.

"It feels… lonely. Like you are reaching for something in the distance but it's too far away for you to grasp." You simply hummed in response and Hyunjin laid his head on your shoulder.

"I like it Y/N, it's…" He went silent for a moment before sighing and wrapping his arms around you.

"It's beautiful."

~✨~

Weeks had passed since the failed seduction attempt on your part and Minho had been annoyingly 'busy' so you hadn't really seen him outside of your work schedule. The distance was getting to you and you started to wonder if you had done something wrong. Minho had never gone this long without reaching out to hang out or simply showing up at your apartment in years. You couldn't shake the feeling that he was avoiding you and it hurt. A lot. That hurt turned to borderline anger when you saw on Ji's story that he and Minho were having a movie night.

Without you.

You checked the group chat to see if you had missed an invite but there hadn't been a message in over a week since Ji had sent you both a cat meme. Maybe Minho noticed your attempt at flirting and decided that ghosting you was better than outright rejection? Even if that was the case the two of you were both close with Ji and not to mention your co-workers, so how could he just cut you out like that? Jisung hadn't even mentioned the movie night and that hurt you too.

Were you losing both your best friends because you had some stupid feelings?

You felt yourself starting to spiral but before you hit the point of no return you took some calming breaths and closed your eyes. You could not break, not now, you had a busy schedule coming up so you focused on that instead.

Thankfully, it was time to film the next SKZCode so at least you got to do something fun. You prepared yourself to get into the Christmas spirit.

~✨~

The staff welcomed you all in and explained the premise of the episode. You were all going to play games and try and win someone over to end up partnered by the end. You immediately thought of MinBear and how much STAY would love to see the two of you end up together before remembering that you and Minho were currently fighting.

Okay maybe not fighting but it's not like you are exactly on speaking terms. The only communication you'd had in weeks was him correcting you in dance practice.

You couldn't go to Ji either, You were mad at him too. Okay mad is maybe an overstatement but you were definitely not happy.

That left the obvious choice.

You decided to set your sights on Felix. You figured the kawaii image you were presenting mixed with his sunshine would be adorable for STAY. To your credit it works pretty well… for about five minutes. You're not sure what exactly happened but one minute you were fake-flirting with Lix, trying to match up with him, the next he is shyly moving away from you and talking to Hyunjin.

You're confused to say the least, that is until you feel soft breaths on your neck.

"Awh are you eating all alone little moon bear? Don't worry, I'll sit with you." You fight the shudders that threaten to run down your spine hearing Minho's voice so close to you after him being so distant for so long.

"Oh, so you're talking to me now huh Min?" You mean to sound angry but it barely masks the hurt in your softly spoken words. You look down at your lap to hide the tears welling up in your eyes.

Minho goes quiet for a moment then gently pulls your face up, angled away from the camera so STAY couldn't see your tear-laden eyes. A small gasp comes from his mouth.

"Jagi…" He softly whispers before hugging you tight to his chest. "Y/N, sweetheart, why are you crying?" He whispers in your hair to shield his lips from the camera.

"It's nothing Min, I'm okay. Let's just keep eating or STAY will worry about us."

"I don't care if STAY worries, my favorite girl is crying and I'm going to comfort her." You pull away a bit at his words to look into his eyes.

"I'm still your favorite girl?" You whisper the question and you hear Minho's small sound of disbelief at your question.

"Of course jagiya, you've always been my favorite girl. Let's talk more after the skit yeah?"

"Okay."

~✨~

Minho makes sure to stick by your side the rest of the shoot. The two of you end up a pair at the end and as you walk out of the room, prepared to head to the recording studio you are surprised when Minho leads you out the door instead.

"Min, where are we going? Channie oppa told us to go to the recording booth after the shoot."

"I texted him and told him that you needed the afternoon off because you weren't feeling well and that I was going to come take care of you. He said it was okay, so I'm taking you home."

"Oh, okay then."

You both remain silent as you approach the company car and Minho opens the door for you and you both slide in. The ride is unusually quiet for the two of you and you are worried that Minho might be mad at you for something and the longer the silence continues, the higher your anxiety spikes.

By the time you reach your apartment you have over-analyzed every interaction the two of you have had over the past few weeks and you have convinced yourself that Minho actually just hates you and is taking you home to break the news in private so none of the cameras catch you crying again.

You are panicking. You can't lose him because of some stupid attraction you may feel. He is one of your best friends and losing him would be devastating.

Once you reach the door of your apartment you are so close to having a panic attack that your hands start shaking as you try to insert your key into the lock. Minho stands and waits while you shakily unlock and open the door. Once you are inside you are frozen in place waiting for the worst.

Then Minho gathers you in his arms and holds you tight.

"It's okay jagi, you're safe here." He whispers as he starts rubbing soothing circles on your back. You don't even realize you are crying again until he lifts your head by your chin and wipes your tears away. You smile softly and Minho returns it.

You are okay. He is not mad at you. Everything is alright.

"Come on sweetheart, let's go cuddle on the couch and watch a shitty rom-com."

You silently nod and he leads you both to the couch. You sit, his arms still wrapped around you as he guides you to rest your head on his chest. You both stay like that as he starts up one of your favorite movies.

You both watch the movie, Minho rubbing soothing circles on your skin while you nuzzle into his warmth. It is quiet for some time until Minho lets out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry I made you worry Y/N, I really was busy and some things came up and I just needed a guys night with Ji, I hope you understand I am not mad at you and you are still my favorite girl." Minho's words made you smile and you sunk further into his embrace.

"It's okay Min, I guess I just felt left out and it messed with me for a minute but I get it. We are good." You looked up into his eyes and in a whisper added:

"Promise."

~✨~

There was an electric feeling in the air. You and the boys were beyond excited for your second world tour. This time you were going to go back to Chan and Felix's home country. The two aussies had spent entirely too much time teaching you and the boys all the important aussie slang you would need and helping you all with your English.

The Maniac tour was set to be your biggest endeavor as a group yet. Minho was drilling the choreo into everyone relentlessly and often spent his free time one-on-one helping each member who asked. Ji was always in the studio with his fellow 3Racha members to ensure everything was perfect. And you? You were spending every free moment you could with Felix trying to perfect your English so you could communicate with the international STAYs.

It was overwhelming but you all pushed yourselves to the limit because you wanted to be amazing for STAY.

Finally the day came and it was time for your first concert.

The lights were blinding and the stadium was so loud you could barely hear yourself think.

It was exhilarating.

The concert went by so fast and you had such a great time with your fellow members.

You were still in Seoul but it all felt new, you couldn't believe you and your boys had made it this far.

The next two shows flew by and your time in Japan was short. You and the boys tried your best to keep filming your logs for the STAYs who couldn't make it to the shows. Everything was amazing.

Finally it was time to head overseas to America. U.S. STAYs were much louder than your STAYs back home. The atmosphere was incredible and you all had the time of your lives performing in the U.S. again. You and the boys tried to speak as much English as you could but it is a hard language for you all so you relied heavily on the aussies for translation help.

In between shows you, Ji, and Min would hole up in one of your hotel rooms and gush about how much fun this all was and how excited you all were to finally go to Australia. You would watch bits of movies before ultimately passing out in a cuddle pile on someone's bed, only to wake up and repeat the next day.

The days flew by and before you knew it it was time to hop on a plane headed to Chan and Felix's home. You all made sure you had time planned to meet their families and have a good time while in the land down under.

When you arrived at the hotel to check in, the staff found out that there was a mistake and only seven rooms had been booked. Someone must have thought Chan and Felix were staying with their families but they simply lived too far from the concert venues. After a very long flight and eager to sleep off your jet lag, everyone was too tired to argue about who would be sharing rooms until Minho spoke up.

"Y/N, Ji, and I have kinda been sharing this whole tour anyway, we may as well just share a room from the get-go if that is okay with everyone else?"

The staff looked bewildered at Minho's suggestion. A girl sharing a room with two boys? That's quite unusual. But the other members were used to you three having slumber parties all the time back home and just shrugged it off insisting that if you were fine with it so were they.

So, you three headed up to your shared room.

~✨~

"Ugh, I could sleep for like a week at this point." Jisung groaned out before promptly falling face-first onto the nearest bed to him.

"Yah! Hannie, you know I like sleeping further from the door, give Y/N that bed and you and I can share the other." Minho glared at the younger boy already getting comfortable in the bed.

"Hyuuuunnnggg I'm already in this one though." Jisung whined out and sank further under the covers.

"Min it's okay, Ji can have that bed and you and I can just share the other. I prefer being close to the window anyway." You said sleepily before heading over to the far bed and setting up your stuff on the nightstand.

"Are you sure Y/nnie? I can kick the lazy quokka out if you'd prefer a bed to yourself."

"I'm sure Min, we all have been sleeping on one bed almost every night of the tour anyway, I'm kind of used to having someone next to me anyway." You shrugged and gathered your sleep clothes.

"I'm gonna go shower real quick, airplanes always make me feel greasy, either of you need to use the bathroom before I go?" You asked the two. Jisung had already passed out and you and Minho just laughed at the sleepy boy before Minho looked up at you.

"No, you're all good. I'll shower after you too so our bed doesn't get gross like Sungie's." You both started laughing and you went to the bathroom and hopped in the shower.

While in the shower you let your thoughts roam. You had been so busy with the tour and Jisung had been stuck with you and Minho the whole time as well so you hadn't had time to think about your maybe-feelings for Minho. Now you were confronted with the fact that while you all were here there would be no escaping to your own room if things got too weird for you.

Not just that but you were sharing a bed with him.

You and Minho had slept in the same bed many times but you were almost always accompanied by Jisung as well. Now it would just be the two of you…

It won't be weird if you don't make it weird.

Right?

~✨~

You finally got out of the shower and changed into your pajamas. After doing your skincare you came out of the bathroom and stopped in place when you looked up and saw a shirtless Minho standing in the middle of the room. His back was facing you and you took a second to admire his strong shoulder muscles down to the dip in his back, just above the hem of his shorts. You could've stood there staring forever but when Minho started to pull down his shorts you made a small noise, something between a whimper and a groan. Minho stiffened and dramatically turned toward you with a hand over his pecs.

"Y/N! Sorry! I didn't hear you come out. I was going to change into my robe before going in after you. Sorry about that. I'll just… bring it with me." The tips of his ears were a fiery red and you're sure you were no better. You could feel yourself blushing and you quickly looked down and nodded as he passed by you and quickly went into the bathroom to shower.

Well that didn't help your situation.

You crawled into bed and tried to calm yourself down but every time you closed your eyes you just saw a shirtless Minho again. You lightly groaned and turned your body away from the bathroom and tried to will yourself to fall asleep before Minho came back so you didn't have to face him.

Of course that didn't work. You had been so tired when you got here but now you were like a live wire and you knew that sleep would not come easily.

When Minho returned from his shower he said nothing as he slowly climbed into the bed next to you. It was quiet for a moment before he broke the silence.

"Sooo… do you want to cuddle?" He said it slowly and quietly and you internally screamed. There is no way you would fall asleep if Minho was touching you… and yet.

"Yeah, that sounds nice." You quietly answered.

Minho scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you tightly.

"Is this good?" He whispered. You could feel how close he was when he spoke, his breath tickling your ear.

"Yeah, it's perfect."

You were so fucked.

~✨~

Just as you thought, it took you forever to fall asleep. However, when you woke up you felt completely relaxed, you had somehow gotten the best night's sleep you had had in a very long time. You slowly came to consciousness and the first thing you noticed was a hair on your face tickling your nose. You realized there was some sort of breeze on your face, cracking an eye open and you bit back a squeak at the sight before you.

You had shifted in the night and were now, yet again, face-to-face with a sleeping Minho. His arms were wrapped tightly around you and your legs were tangled. He was beautiful like this. Soft breaths coming out from him as he peacefully slept. You stared at him in wonder and decided that a few more moments of this wouldn't hurt.

After some time passed Minho eventually began to stir. He groaned and hugged you a bit tighter before opening his eyes. You were both quiet, allowing the peaceful moment in an otherwise chaotic few months. You softly smiled and he returned it.

"G'morning jagi." He whispered, trying not to break the peaceful atmosphere the two of you were caught in.

"Good morning sleepyhead." You softly chuckled and he giggled in return, nuzzling slightly closer to you.

"I could get used to this, you know?" He whispered, now inches from your face. You breath hitched at his comment and before you could respond there was a loud banging on your door.

"YAH WAKE UP LAZY BUMS IT'S TIME TO GET READY!" Chan's voice rang out and Minho groaned, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. You heard Jisung yelp from the other bed at Chan's command.

"Time to go." Minho groaned.

~✨~

The next few days were a blur. The Aussie STAYs were crazy. The concerts were so much fun but you were all so exhausted that by the time you got back to the hotel it took all of your energy to shower before crawling back into bed.

You and Minho slept in each other's arms every night.

Once the concerts were over you were all invited to the Bang residence for dinner. All nine of you laughed and ate and bonded with Chan's family. It was amazing and you never wanted it to end, but eventually it was time to go. You and Hannah exchanged numbers, her saying you needed a girl friend being surrounded by the eight loud boys all the time. You laughed and agreed, saving her number immediately.

You would cherish the time you got to spend in Australia forever.

~✨~

The rest of the tour flew by, the nine of you really giving it your all and after months it was finally time to come back home. You were so excited to sleep in your own bed again and get back into your normal crazy schedule.

The first few nights back home were odd. You couldn't fall asleep no matter how tired you were. You assumed it was just the jet lag but after days of bad sleep you were ready to snap.

It was a normal day filled with dance practice and small photoshoots but you were so exhausted you felt like you were going to fall over at any minute. You noticed Minho looked dead tired as well. You wondered if he was having trouble adjusting as well.

After your schedule was done for the day you decided to take a nice walk to try and calm your mind. After walking up and down the Han rivers shore a few times you decided it was time to head home.

You entered your apartment to the sound of the TV on and smiled.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" you jokingly asked the boy on your couch.

"I've been sleeping like shit and decided to see if it's my bed or just me so I came to stay here if that's cool with you?" Minho didn't look away from the TV as he spoke.

"You're always welcome here Min you know that. Wanna order takeout?" You plopped next to him on the couch and leaned on his shoulder.

"Already got your favorite from that one place with the noodles you like." He wrapped an arm around you and turned on yet another shitty rom-com for you two to watch. You let out a hum of approval and sank into his embrace before answering.

"Thanks Min, you're the best."

"Anything for my favorite girl."

You and Minho sat in content silence until the food came. You both ate as much as you could handle before settling back to finish your movie. Once it was over you stretched and yawned, feeling more exhausted than you had in a long time. Minho smiled at you and reached out for your hand.

"You look exhausted, let's head to bed."

You sleepily nodded and took his hand. He led you to your room where you both climbed into bed and he gathered you into his arms just like he had back in Sydney. You both let out a content sigh at the contact and before you knew it you were out.

You slept like the dead. You didn't realize how much you missed Minho's presence until you had it once again. After that there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you to share a bed until further notice. You loved the contact but the longer it continued the more your feelings grew.

You think you might be falling in love with your best friend and for the first time you think you might be okay with that.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #lee know smut #lee know hard thoughts #lee know hard hours #minho hard thoughts

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