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sugarushwriting · 6 days ago

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exotic dancer lee minho x reader

you just ended a relationship, your friends try to cheer you up

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

too lazy to proof read sorry

“come on it’ll be fun!”

“momo, you’re talking about male strippers!”

“ah ah, exotic dancers!” momo tsked.

momo and your three other friends dragged you into the strip club where the exotic male dancers were.

background context: you were just dumped by your fiancé of 6 months, who claimed he didn’t love you or wanted to be with you.

you both had dated on and off for 3 years, before he finally proposed 6 months ago. turns out he felt pressured and didn’t want to actually be with you anymore.

3 days ago you found him out in public with his new girlfriend. who yunjin did some digging on, and found your ex had been seeing her for 3 months.

while you two were engaged to be married.

it hurt you. you tried so hard to act like it didn’t, because truth be told, you weren’t actually happy with him. you also felt pressure and the need to be married.

you were in your late twenties, the only thing you had were your career and cats. although that was enough to you, it wasn’t enough for your parents. it wasn’t necessarily that they wanted grandkids, but someone who would take care of you once they pass on.

although you were independent, your parents didn’t want to see you grow old and alone.

inside, the club was all dark lights, poles galore, and shirtless men even more.

before taking a seat, you all stopped by the bar to grab drinks.

you weren’t complaining about the view, it’s just something you weren’t used to—or ever did.

“what am i supposed to do?” you asked lost, looking around.

momo led you and your friends to a booth, a pole and stage in the middle.

“relax, let the men dance for you, and tip!”

“do i touch them?”

“only if they invite you to.” momo winked.

you looked at the pamphlet on near the booth’s table, “it looks like this dancer’s name is, cat daddy?”

“mhm, he can be the daddy of my cat, any day.”

“sana, you don’t have a cat.”

“yes i do, and she’s purring right now.” sana laughed, mina, nayeon and momo joining in.

it took you a while to understand the innuendo, and you joined in the laughter, you all quickly quieting down when a man with cat ears came into view near the booth.

with a smirk, he bowed, his muscles showing off in the black sleeveless top he had on, and the tight black pants showing his strong thighs.

“i’m cat daddy, how can i help you beautiful ladies this evening?”

sana and mina fanned themselves, momo engaging in conversation with a pout, “our friend here just went through a terrible break up and could use a great distraction.” momo’s hands were on your shoulder to let the man know who it was.

“i’m sorry to hear that miss, but i can be of great service to distract you.”

“mhm, would you be a great service and give her a private dance? on me, of course, i’ll pay.” momo smirked, catching you off guard as your eyes went wide.

“mo—,” you went to say but she patted your bare thigh to get you to hush.

“of course, is the lady okay with that?” he turned to you, an eyebrow raised up. almost a little taunting or dare for you to say no.

“oh, yeah, i’m okay with that.” you replied.

with a smile, he grabbed your hand, your friends cheering in the back ground. the man led you in hand to the back, where many private rooms where, accompanied by a couple of guards by the main entrance.

“should i call you cat daddy? or is there another name i can use? or maybe you would like to know my name?” you rambled off. you ended up telling the man your name.

with a chuckle, he turned around to face you, a big smile plastered on his face. “i’ll all you kitten. fitting to my name, right?”

“i mean yeah—,”

“and you can just call me daddy.”

your eyes once again went wide, your body rigid at his words. not only your heart thumping in excitement, but also down south.

he pulled you into a vacant room, closing the door behind him, after turning the sign on the door, to say ‘occupied.’

he gestured for you to sit on the chair of the bed in the room.

you choose the bed as it looked the comfiest. “see, uh, i’ve never been at a place like this, so i don’t know what to do,” you rambled as you sat.

he never took his eyes off of you, like a predator stalking his prey.

you kept rambling, unaware of (or trying to ignore) him getting closer to you, soon his face right in front of yours, almost nose to nose.

“lay down kitten.”

“what—,”

you gasped when he forcefully laid you down, you suddenly sitting up on your forearms to look at him like he lost his damn mind.

that thought quickly went away, when he took off his shirt, almost teasingly, rolling his body as he did.

he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, spreading your legs so he stood in between them. grabbing your hands, he held them against his abs, your fingers scratching along, his head tilting back as he moaned lightly from your cold touch.

he guided your hands up to his chest, and around his neck, as he leaned down to your ear. “if you let me, i can make you forget and feel real good for whatever that ex of yours did.” he whispered, sending shivers down your body.

he leaned back to look you in your eyes, you lost in his. he looked so innocent with those eyes of his, but you had a feeling, deep down, he wasn’t so innocent when it came to bed activities.

you smirked, “as long as the ears stay on.”

he smiled back knowingly, “mhm, kitten, i knew you had a side to you that was masked by that innocent act.” he kissed your neck, and whispered, “call me minho.”

minho kissed you once, before his hands grabbed yours again, this time to his pants, wanting you to help him take them off.

you didn’t expect your girls day to turn into a girls night, let alone a night where you end up at an exotic male dancers strip club.

you didn’t expect tonight to become so entranced by a man you didn’t know, to want to know his secrets, wants, and find out why he chose this job or life.

you for sure didn’t expect to have helped a man undress, leaving on his cat ears, and he undressing you of your short skirt and top.

and lastly, you didn’t even think tonight would end up with you on your back, in said club, in a private room, having said man licking between your folds like it was his last day eating on earth.

“oh—oh my,” you gasped then moaned, your hand shooting to minho’s fluffy hair, your back arching off the bed.

his tongue worked between your folds, nose nudging your clit, fingers used to spread you more open for him.

minho hummed and moaned, quietly showing his appreciation for letting him between your thighs.

for the way he was making you feel, you wanted to thank him. ex definitely forgotten, your mind focused on minho’s tongue, the noises, and the grips his hands now had on your thighs to keep you open as you kept threatening to close the closer you got to coming on his tongue.

“minho, i’m—i’m,”

“i know kitten, let go for me, mhm?” he hummed kissing your clit, before his tongue burrowed deep in your opening, you soon becoming over sensitive.

“fuck!” you gasped out, hand gripped tight on minho’s hair, as you tried to calm your racing heart, your chest up and down.

minho kissed up your stomach, to your naked chest, deciding against overstimulating you. for now.

he licked one free nipple, then the other. he continued his way up to find your neck, his teeth latching the skin for a teasing bite.

minho sat up, knees on either side of you, you reached up to his calvin klein boxers, your fingers teasing the band. it sent chills through minho’s body, his dick becoming harder with the touch.

“don’t tease me, kitten.” he warned through a moan.

you smiled, taking out his dick from the tight black boxers, him hard and tip red, already leaking a bit of precome.

with a lick, you lightly brush led your tongue against his tip, before leaving a kiss. you pulled away, your thumb rubbing circles on the tip.

no hesitation, minho scooted closer as smoothly as he could with his boxers around his thighs, and shoved his dick in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with a gag.

you quickly adjusting yourself to his thickness, and grabbed minho’s ass in your hand as he did the work by rocking and rolling his hips against your mouth.

“that’s it baby, take all of me.” he moaned quietly, you getting wet by each second. you were ready for him to just ruin you between your legs. to leave his everlasting mark.

with spits of curses and moans, it didn’t take much longer until minho stilled and came in your mouth.

pulling out, some leaked from your lips, minho quickly running his tongue against the side of your lips before he kissed you, tongue forcing itself inbetween your lips, in your mouth.

spit mixing, sloppy and wet, minho slipped the boxers off of his thighs, never detaching his lips from yours. he laid over you, his tip teasing your folds and clit.

you bit his bottom lip, tugging it between your teeth. “ruin me. distract me more.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, as minho plunged his dick into you, no waiting for adjustment.

you let out a gasp at the intrusion, but the gasp was of pleasure, and minho hummed, loving the sounds from your lips.

“i’ll make you forget all about past men you thought could please you, kitten.” minho rolled his hips, to aim deeply into you as much as he could. he wanted to be slow first.

the way he rolled his hips, and whenever he did, hit the right spot in you.

“minho,” you squealed, your hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“mhm that’s it kitten, scream my name. minho—daddy, will make you forget all about those pathetic excuses of past mistakes.”

you could speak, so you just nodded. eyes closed, as tears threatened to spill at how good he was making you feel.

minho suddenly changed his pace from slow to rough. his hips snapping back before forward, your thighs wrapped around him, thigh on thigh skin slapping.

minho pulled out, getting off the bed, before he tugged you along with him.

you brain was gone dumb, as he guided you to the chair, you gripped one of the arms of the chair, minho lifted your right leg to rest on the chair as the other stayed flat on the floor.

minho plunged into you from behind, the new angle, literally causing your own pussy to squeal along with you. you gasped, mouth wide open, as minho rocked his hips from behind you, fucking into you from behind. cheeks clapping, his hand wrapped around your throat, his veins on display, as his index finger forced its way into your mouth.

you sucked on his finger, his pace never faltering, you felt your pussy leaking from all the wetness coming from you.

his other hand snuck around your body, so two of his fingers could start adding pressure to your clit, sending you to the edge.

you didn’t mean to, but you slightly bit his finger, before screaming out his name. “minho!”

your brain and mind really turned to mush, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your vision going dark.

you came hard around his dick, sure leaving a ring of white around the base.

but minho’s thrusts became rougher and sloppier, as he chased his own. he was finally overstimulating you into oblivion and submission.

one of your hand gripped the chair’s arm tightly, the other gripping minho’s forearm, he gripped your chin so your head rested against his chest, your eyes facing him the best to your ability.

your body was in a position you didn’t know was possible, back arched so much, minho loved the sight in front of him.

he loved watching his dick disappear between your folds, your ass hitting perfectly against his hips.

with one last thrust, minho grunted, pulling out to leave his come on your backside. thick and warm, he breathed heavily, as if he ran a marathon. you nearly collapsed on the chair, but minho caught you to help you back to the bed, placing you on the bed.

he grabbed some wet wipes that were placed on a table in the room (next to the condoms you both ignored) and wiped his come off of you, and wiping between your thighs gently before he cleaned up himself.

“how, how am i supposed to walk out there like nothing happened?” you groaned out, struggling to sit up.

minho laughed, “you don’t, you do the walk of shame.”

“there was nothing shameful about that.” you grinned. “other than maybe fucking in a club.” you rolled on your back, laid out.

no time to rethink life choices or reminisce about what just happened.

you had to first put your clothes (and find your underwear), then think of how to exit while steady on your feet.

it wasn’t that you were in pain, but more so still over stimulated losing feeling in your legs.

“there’s an exit out back. you can tell your friends to pick you up there if you want to avoid lookers.”

you nodded. “best idea.”

minho, back dressed, cat ears still on, he walked out to find your friends. you quickly dressed, still not finding your underwear, but did your best to look presentable.

minho walked back to the private room. “they’ll meet you out back with a rideshare. is your place far?”

you shook your head, “we rented a hotel a block away. we live about 2 hours away from here.”

“different city to avoid people you may know?”

you nodded shyly. “yeah.”

minho walked closer to help you stand up, “kind of disappointing you live so far from me kitten. i would have loved to see you again.”

you felt hot, nearly blushing. “um, you don’t need to sweet talk me. you made me feel better and distract me.”

minho’s finger went to your chin, you lift your head up to look into his eyes, “kitten, if you think i do what i just did with you, with anyone, you’re mistaken.”

he kissed your lips tenderly. “why me?” you whispered.

minho shrugged. “honestly don’t know.” he smiled when you initiated a kiss this time. “promise to come see me, again?”

“mhm, maybe.” you teased. minho gripped your hips, and you chuckled, “okay, yes, i will.”

“good. especially since i know you’ll want your blue underwear back.”

#fanfiction #stray kids #lee minho smut #minho one shot #stray kids x reader #stray kids lee know #lee know oneshot #lee know drabble #lee know smut #lee know x reader #lee minho #lee minho x reader #stray kids smut

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bloodibambiidoll · 2 months ago

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♱ Let Me Worship You ♱

♱ Kinktober Day 4 ⟢ Charlie Mayhew ⟢ Waxplay/ass eating ♱

Warnings: Blasphemy galore(obviously), sex in a church, wax play, ass eating (M receiving), face fucking, cum eating, reader gets fucked with a candle(not burning), pet names(kitty/angel), church girl reader, choking, hair pulling 18+MDNI

You never expected to find yourself in this position. Completely naked atop the altar of your church's chapel while your priest stands above you with a burning candle. You’re still not even quite sure how you ended up here. It all happened so fast. One minute you were looking up at Father Mayhew asking him about some of the murders you had seen on the churches website and then next thing you knew his hands and tongue were on every inch of exposed skin of your body that they could reach. And when that became not enough he shed you of your clothes. You pressed your naked body against his hardly covered one, the lace of the cream robe he adorned rubbed against your hard nipples and soft skin as you got lost in a messy, heated kisses only to be cut off abruptly by him bending you over the altar with your hands pinned above your head. He leaned over you and rutted against your ass with his cock that was only covered by the thin jock strap and framed perfectly by the assless chaps covering his muscular legs. He bit down on your shoulder hard before calling you a desperate little sinner that needed to be punished, then manhandled you onto the altar on your back and instructed you not to move unless he gives you permission.

“Week after week you come to service in these tiny little dresses and each and every time I have to punish myself for the way I grip my cock when I think about you afterwards. I think it’s time I give you a little punishment of your own.” Father Mayhew tips the candle gripped in his thick ringed hand just enough for another drop of hot, white, wax to drip down onto your skin, joining the other droplets he bestowed upon your flesh moments ago. Your breath hitches at the heat of it and your back instinctively arches off the altar underneath you as your toes curl. “Look at you, the perfect sin.”

Charlie lets another drop of wax fall onto your stomach before slowly walking around the altar like a predator that caught its prey. The fingers of his free hand gently glide along your legs until he stops at the opposite side of you and it grips onto your upper thigh roughly. His eyes are burning embers as he glowers down at you with a sickly satisfied smile before tipping the burning candle directly above your boob and onto your nipple. It lands with a light sizzle that has your eyes rolling back from the pain. He gives the other boob the same attention and then takes your tit in his hand so he can roughly smear the drying wax along your supple skin. He glides the candle so it’s hanging over your face, the hot wax moments away from dripping over your lips.

“I could drip this down into your eyes or down your throat if I felt like it and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?” Father Mayhew chuckles lightly and darts his tongue out to wet his lips. “You’re so obedient, you follow me around this church like an eager little kitten after milk and think I won’t notice the damn near starving look in your eyes when you look at me.” He tilts the candle to the point that there’s a drop of wax barely hanging onto the tip of it, dangerously close to dripping down onto your cheek but at the last second he jerks it through the air quickly enough that it lands on the top of your mound instead. Before you can fully process what’s happening you feel another burst of hot liquid dripping directly on top of your pussy, just barely missing your throbbing clit.

“Oh, fuck!” You gasp in surprise as you watch him tip the candle nearly upside down allowing the melted wax that had gathered there to fall down onto your pelvis in a stream. The hot liquid burns your skin in the most delicious way as it drips down the side of your hips and the crevices of your thighs, just barely missing your clit and puffy, dripping folds as it slowly starts to cool and stick to your skin. Charlie doesn’t stop until the final drop of remaining hot wax drips onto your clit and snuffs out the candle. The burning heat is an agonizing pleasure that only grows stronger as the wax cools and tightens around your sensitive bud.

“Perfection.” The devilish glint in the holy man’s eyes as he devours you with them is sin in itself. Charlie grips onto your thigh and presses your knee flat against the clothed table, exposing you entirely to him. His free hand glides the still warm tip of the candle down your other thigh, up your stomach and across your tits, almost like he is connecting the dots of the droplets he left on your body.

“Like god handcrafted you, just for me.” He flips the candle so the side with the wick is cupped in his hand before bringing it to your chin, circling your lips and using the cool wax end to pull your bottom lip from between your teeth. Charlie runs the candle across your lips, smearing the spit that had gathered there and you take it upon yourself to dart your tongue out and taste the dry wax. His eyes widen, the flames from the candles still lit around you flickering off his irises as a low groan leaves the back of his throat at your actions. “Suck on it.”

You wrap your lips around it and swirl your tongue while you hold eye contact with the man you’ve lusted after week after week as you watch him deliver sermons in a way you’ve never seen before. He shoves it further in your mouth until it hits the back of your throat and you gag. “That’s it, little kitty, get it nice and wet for me.”

After a few moments of practically fucking your throat with the candle causing the taste of wax to coat your mouth Father Mayhew pulls it from your lips, brings the slickness of it between your legs and caresses your folds with it. You mewl when he glides it up and uses it to push the now dry wax on your clit away before tapping it against your throbbing bud. Your hips try to raise off the altar but the hand on your thigh holds you in place. He circles it around before sliding it back through your dripping pussy lips, effectively coating it in your creamy wetness. He teases your entrance with the tip and you try to tilt your hips again to press it further inside you but he pulls it away with a deep chuckle.

“Beg me. Beg me to put it inside you.” He circles your clit before caressing every inch around your pussy, but never pressing inside you. The hand on your thigh glides down to push the dried wax at the apex of your thighs away as he grins down at you with a carnal look in his brown eyes.

“Please, fuck me, Father. Any way you please, I’m yours.” Your voice is desperate and exasperated in a way you’ve never heard but you don’t even care because you’ll do anything for him to continue to defile you. Charlie’s lips crack into smirk and his eyes fill with elation as he brings the candle to your dripping hole and thrusts it inside you. “Shit, yes! Thank you, thank you.”

“Seeing you this way, fully exposed to me, begging for me to defile you, it makes me question if carnal desire is a sin, or just God's greatest gift.” His voice is husky as he starts to pump the white wax in and out of your pussy, your wetness allowing it to glide with ease. Charlie tilts his wrist so somehow it’s hitting your sweet spot just right and brings his thumb to your clit and you’re so sensitive and worked up that it’s all it takes to have delicious euphoria wracking over you. “Oh, that’s a good girl, come for me, angel.”

He fucks you through your orgasm before holding eye contact with you as he pulls the candle from your pussy and brings it to his lips, sucking your sweet nector off of it with a growl that viberates his chest. Father Mayhew comes around so he can replace the candle he just tainted with your cum back into the holder above your head, some sort of sick satisfaction at knowing he’ll be the only one that knows what happened here during tomorrow's service running through him.

You tilt your head back to follow his movements and you can’t help but dart your tongue out and lick his asscheek when he bends over causing it to peek out from beneath his robe. He’s just so beautiful. Every inch of him. From his meticulously styled hair, his dark eyes that always hold a purpose, those plush lips that speak knowledge that you admire, his thick throat and even the bleeding wounds you caught a glimpse of on his back all the way down to his perfect ass. Charlie jolts forward at the feeling of your warm tongue on him and his head whips around so he can look down at you with an eyebrow raised. You push yourself up on your elbows so you can tilt your head further and caress the black strap cupping his ass with your tongue. A breathy moan leaves him and he twists the upper half of his body enough to grip your chin with his hand, but he leaves his lower half facing you.

“What are you doing, angel?” Charlie uses his grip on your face to gently shake your head from side to side as he looks down at you greedily. “Someone as sweet as you wouldn’t want to do something as nasty as you’re implying, would you?” The question is laced with desire and filled with temptation that you can’t resist.

“Let me eat you, Father.” You run your tongue along the crease of his hand with a moan and he has no idea how he will ever atone for this. But lord forgive him because there’s no way in hell he can turn down anything you say at this point. “Let me worship you.” You wrap your forearms around his muscular, chap covered thighs so you can pull him closer to you and nip at the skin of his exposed ass. He groans and pulls the lace robe from his body then lets his hands fall to the table on either side of your head and bends slightly, giving himself to you. You lick along the black straps cupping of both his cheeks, slipping your tongue underneath the material with every few flicks of it. Then you lick up his ass, and greedily lick and suck on his smooth but still muscular skin until it’s covered in darkening red bruises and dripping with your spit.

“Oh, angel, I’m going to need you to stop teasing me or I’m going to have to take away your privileges.” His voice is domineering and oozing with finality so you use one of the arms wrapped around his thigh as leverage to pull your face closer to him while spreading his ass with your other hand so you can lean up and run your tongue through his crack. You graze past his hole a few times as your tongue glides through the crevice between his supple cheeks, wetting him there too. You finally circle his tight hole with your wet, hot, tongue before pressing the tip of it inside him. “Jesus Christ, your mouth is sin and heaven wrapped in one.”

Father Mayhew’s back arches and his grip on the altar is so tight you feel the cloth underneath you shift as you start to fuck his ass with your tongue. You rim his hole and run your tongue down the crevice of his plump cheeks between thrusts of your tongue. You press it as deep as you physically and flick your tongue inside him. He feels like he’s going to lose his mind at the way you’re eating him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. The lewd sounds leaving your lips driving him closer and closer to madness by the second. He undoes the chaps and lets them fall down his legs so he can take his thick, throbbing cock into his hand and jerk himself off while you continue your feast on his ass. You reach your hand further around so you can caress his balls and you can feel them tighten in your grasp.

“Fuck, you’re fucking disgusting, kitty. I knew you were a little pervert.” Charlie’s voice is deep and raspy and he starts to thrust into his hand while he grinds his ass down on your face and it has him dangerously close to the edge. But he can’t come yet, not like this, not without seeing your heavenly body spread out before him. He flips over abruptly, his hands coming back down on either side of your head as his now messy hair hangs down in his eyes and he smiles down at you damn near wickedly. “I need to fuck your pretty throat, open your mouth.”

“Make me your cock sleeve, Charlie.” The crass words coming out of your mouth while you look up at him from the altar with that pretty little cross hanging between your perfect tits that are covered in wax by his hand is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. That combined with the fact that you just called him his first name is almost enough to make him burst on the spot. He watches as your tongue slides from your mouth and you look up at him eagerly like his cock is a gift he’s bestowing upon you. In your mind it is, you’d forget there was a god and devote yourself to Father Mayhew if he asked. You already belonged to him, but now he owns you. He laces his fingers through the trellis of your hair before using his grip to yank your head back and slide his cock across your tongue all in one motion. You wrap your lips around his shaft and it causes him to slam all the way in the back of your throat, making you gag. He pulls all the way out of you, watching the string of glimmering spit that drips from his cock and onto your chest, reveling in the borderline insane smile painted on your pretty lips. And you’re so fucking perfect every ounce of pain he feels after for this will be worth it. You flick your tongue out to lick his head and he takes that as a sign to slam back into your mouth and start thrusting deep into your throat.

“That’s it, give yourself to me, let me use you.” Father Mayhew grunts and grabs onto both sides of your head for leverage as he brutally assaults your throat with his thick cock. Your eyes roll back and muffled moans leave your lips at the feeling of giving him control. “Open your eyes.” He taps your cheek and your eyes dart open and he smiles manically at the sight of your watery, mascara run eyes looking up at him. “Keep them open, and touch yourself for me. Spread your legs nice and wide, so I can see.”

You oblige him, all shame long gone as you let your knees fall flat against the altar so you can gather your wetness and rub it across your eager clit.

“Good kitty.” His thrusts resume causing you to gag and drool around him. He can’t keep his eyes off the way he can see his cock sliding down your throat with each pump of his hips. Charlie runs his large hand down your neck, feeling himself inside you before squeezing your throat tightly. “Look at that, you really are my perfect little cock sleeve, aren’t you? I’m going to come down this gorgeous throat and you’re going to swallow every.” Thrust. “Single.” Thrust. “Drop.” On that last word he presses his hips flush against your face as his cock twitches in your throat and the taste of his cum floods your senses. You press your fingers inside your pussy and use the pad of your hand to run circles on your clit and white hot pleasure washes through you as you fall over the edge right along with him. He comes so much that it starts to drip down your cheeks when he pulls his cock from your mouth and you have to audibly gulp to swallow the rest of it. Father Mayhew tilts his body so he’s leaning on the altar next to you and leans down to lick the cum from the side of your mouth before connecting your lips in a filthy, bruising, kiss.

“You’re my new favorite sin, angel, and I’m never letting you out of my grasp now.” You aren’t sure if it’s a threat or a promise, but you don’t really care if it’s going to feel this disgustingly good.

Tagging fellow Maywhores(shout out @cxrrodedcoffin for coining that phrase): @babygorewhore @fear-is-truth @chavezprincess @cameronsprincess

#some of you may notice that I switched kinktober day 4 to this and I have my reasons #the top one being I needed to write about this slutty priest immediately #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew x reader #charlie mayhew smut #charlie mayhew x y/n #Charlie Mayhew x you #grotesquerie #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #divider by me

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amelee23 · 9 months ago

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Natural | Lee Minho

Genre: FLUFFFFFF fluff fluff, romance

Pairing: Lee know x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: going on a forest vacay to escape society, SUPER sappy cheesy stuff, SOFT, walks at 6 am, kisses and hugs and everything nice, a chokehold as a joke, humour, metaphors galore, he's cat dad, reader gets called kitten once, I love lino very much, promises for the future 🤭

Summary: You and Minho go on a vacation to a forest cabin. As he wakes you up at 6 am for a walk, you can't help but get sappy and admire him alongside the landscape. Your love for him makes Minho say something that might change your perspective of the future.

You were gently shaken awake a little too early for comfort. First thing you felt was the heft of your eyelids and a subtle throbbing in your forehead; but the first thing you remembered, though, was the way you have probably fallen asleep having extremely soft conversations with your lover, about how far the both of you have come, the things you've accomplished, how proud you feel of each other and also of your friends who you grew up with.

"The sun's not even awake yet." You grumble to him, and he gives you a silly smile.

"But I am!" You can't help but snort, still pushing your nose further into the pillows. You didn't want to get out of bed, really. "C'mon, get up. Go on a walk with me."

"At this hour? Ugh, you're so random sometimes." You say, grumbling, but you start moving out of the bed.

It probably wasn't random at all. If you were to make a guess, it was probably premeditated and he had some sort of intention for taking a walk in the woods at 6 in the morning.

Well, he hoped it would be 6 in the morning but your drowsiness didn't allow for it. He had to be patient, make you coffee and a light breakfast, or else you'd turn blue like the cookie monster and eat him alive without food and caffeine in your system.

You looked out the window as the two of you were silently enjoying breakfast. It was such a beautiful sight, and if you just allowed it, the cherry chirp of the birds in the morning was enough to block the demons inside your head.

Although he had woken you up at ungodly hours, this was the vacation you both dreamt of. You rented out a cabin in the forest, and it was, for once, just you and him. The last people you've seen were in a different cabin 10 minutes down the road, and the center rental establishment that had groceries and necessities was 20 minutes away. Of course, it could prove to be a pain in the ass if you didn't prepare well, but you made sure you had everything you needed - so that you could truly disconnect from the world and let yourselves be swallowed up by nature.

You should have guessed Minho was always planning to go on this walk, considering how serious he seemed about it. While you were eating and trying to awaken your brain cells, he got dressed in a cozy shirt, loose pants and a backwards cap and he was already arranging a small backpack with water bottles and his Polaroid camera. He went as far as packing an external phone battery, too. Then he sat down next to you and waited.

You've gotten to know his array of expressions so well, you thought. He was looking at you, and to an outsider his expression would tell them close to nothing. But no, his expression looked gentle, kind, patient, impatient, exasperated and excited all at once. You could see how eager he was to move, almost as if his body was half-way already bolting out the door. Still, he was trying to maintain his calm, since there was no point to the outside views that awaited him if you weren't seeing them with him.

Your eyes met as you were admiring him, and almost like a kitten pawing for attention, he gently pulled at the sleeve of your pyjama shirt.

You were so in love with him, it wasn't even funny.

He began your little nature adventure by holding your hand and guiding you to the forest path, but as soon as you could hear the crunch of pebbles and branches under your feet, Minho was gone. He walked far ahead of you, as if he was caught in a trance. It was so weird, because in reality all you could see was his slumped back, his sluggish figure trudging through the forest, but in your mind he was running, he was twirling, he was opening his arms large to welcome the sun into an embrace. If only he would let the freedom that guides his soul be seen, without the fear of being judged or the weight of society pressing down on him.

You weren't mad he left you behind. In fact, you were having a blast just watching him: trip over a rock when he was too occupied looking at the height of the pine trees, taking pictures with his phone of every and any flower he deemed pretty or interesting, whispering "squirrel" and "hello little buddy" whenever he saw a critter.

He would turn around and look at you once in a while to reassure himself you're there and that you're safe. (And weren't stolen by some forest goblin.) Whenever he'd make a pit stop to take pictures you'd catch up with him and he'd ask you if you're okay, if you're bored or if you want him to slow down his pace. You'd tell him no, you'd tell him he's so endearing being in his natural element. And he'd smile, but it wouldn't be the kind of smile that shows a collection of pearly whites or spreads from one ear to the other. Not even his bunny teeth would show; it would be a closed-lipped, subtle smile, that you found was the most meaningful of them all when it came to Minho. It was the smile of "I feel content", it was the smile of "I feel at peace". Put in simple words, it was the smile of "I'm happy." His happiness was quiet, that was what you observed. And this smile, the truest of them all, showed in various situations: when he was taking walks in nature, when he was preparing a meal, when he was playing with his feline babies, and when he was spending time with you. You were part of his silent happiness, and you were perhaps, one of the only ones who knew what it meant.

And understanding one's personality, one's inner workings is not exactly an easy feat. Just how it took millennia for humanity to understand the laws of the universe, Minho thought it would take decades for someone to understand him. That is, if someone ever did.

But when you arrived, it was as if you were an enforcer fighting for the preservation of nature. A flower is most beautiful when it is on the field that it belongs to, rather than being plucked and put into a bouquet, forced to look beautiful for someone else. You preserved the flower where it was. You didn't uproot it. You gave him water, nourishment and talked to him in such a loving manner, that now he blooms so beautifully.

He's become much more beautiful than a human being should ever be.

Minho stopped one more time to take a picture of the path, and the shadows the trees were casting on the ground. A ray of light sneakily made its way through them, casting itself on a ladybug that was climbing up the tree bark. Minho took a picture of the ladybug, then turned towards the stray light and offered his hand to it. He played with the light between his fingers, let it roll along his palm, and then he put his hand down. He looked up, towards the sky, more golden strands of the sun dancing along his face, and he took a deep breath. When he exhaled, his chest looked lighter, and he seemed to begin to shine, a light sparkle dusting the skin of his arms, as if he was really becoming one with the sun.

He was breathtaking.

Having finally caught up with him, your arms circled his waist and you embraced him tightly, cheek smushing into his shoulder blades. It was an urge, an instinct, to do so.

He seemed a little startled, but he didn't complain. He patted your hands gently and then he took a picture of your hands woven so tightly around his torso, without catching his or your face in the picture. You knew that because it became his lockscreen after that day.

As softly as he could muster, as if to not scare you off, Minho held your hand and spun around to face you, his eyes sparkly and curious.

"Everything okay?"

"Mhm." You respond, holding him by the waist as if to show you didn't want him going anywhere. Minho loved the warmth that enveloped him. "You just looked so natural, so genuine." You smile at him, and he instantly knows by your grin you were having a poetic, sappy moment. "You always look like you belong right in nature. Had to touch you to make sure you're real." You emphasize your words by squeezing a little bit at his hips and the skin above his ribs, and he lets out a cat-like yelp that makes you giggle.

You become an entanglement of limbs when Minho decides to cup both sides of your face as you're holding him. Your face slightly mushed together, he angles your eyes to look into his, and none of you would win the competition of who's more enamoured than the other.

"Sometimes I really can't help but wonder... what are those pretty eyes of yours seeing when you look at me?" He asks in the softest way possible, and you're suddenly caught in a trance. His eyes pull you closer, his skin continues to sparkle, and a gentle warm breeze seems to circle the two of you.

"Magic." You answer, promptly, with certainty, still bewitched by the portrait of him among the trees. He lets out a puff of hair as he chuckles, but he doesn't mock you. He caressed your face with his thumb and you too feel warm.

"Magic?"

"It's like the magic of nature is coursing through you..." You begin to rant, but figure out finding the right words is quite a challenge. But Minho was patient. "It's hard to explain. It's like you're out of this world ... and yet the most human I've ever seen someone be... The most natural." Minho has heard this song and dance before. Countless of times you've called him a forest fairy, a fae, a nymph...but to him the most fascinating part of it was how you were able to tell. You could see where he belonged, where he shone the brightest. You allowed him to realize when he was happy and not be scared of that happiness; therefore, there was only one thought forming at the back of his mind. A thought, that was of course, completely random and not something he's thought about hundreds of times before while you were sound asleep.

"Marry me." He blurts out, and you blink at him, awaiting a grin, a laugh, a smirk, a signal of a joke. But there was none. He was solemn and focused as he watched the slight panic in your gaze.

"Do you really mean it?"

"Yes. I mean, not now. Someday." He answers in a split of a second. But then, he backs out as if burnt. Maybe, just maybe, he let his impulses get the better of him. "Why, do you not feel the same? It's okay, you can tell me if I'm being too pushy-" He's panicking, and panic doesn't fit his handsome features. So you grab him by the shoulders and kiss him with passion.

Kissing Minho was addicting.

"You're the first person I've ever liked kissing this much." You confess to him after you break apart. Then, you wrap your arms around him yet again and rest your head on his chest, your ear prying in to listen to the alarmed pace of his heart. You squeeze him tight, so very tight, almost like he was a teddy bear. "The first person I've liked holding so much." His heart continued to drum, for he was confused about what you were saying. Was he getting an answer to his question or was this your subtle way of switching the subject, saying that you weren't ready yet? Minho tries to calm down in order to focus on what you were saying. "The only one for which romance made sense." You begin to explain, your cheek still tightly pressed into his chest. You're calm and you speak in what is almost a whisper. "Feelings aren't supposed to be logical, I know, but... being with you is. It's logical... it just makes sense, being in love with you. I can never blame myself for it, never hold myself accountable. Because falling in love with you ...came to me as naturally as breathing; like it was always part of my DNA."

There is a nature in all of us. Cells, stardust, but mostimportantly, love. To love is human nature, fact discovered ever since medieval times. Whether you loved God like Dante, or loved humans like Boccaccio, it is destined for all of us to love.

"Because I'm nature...?"

He was human, he was nature, and towards him you felt only that which is most natural.

"Because you're nature. And I love nature." You pull back to look at him and are startled to see the ocean of his eyes, the reflection of stars in the sea. He was trying not to cry, and looking at you with the fondness of a thousand families.

"Nature loves you too, kitten." Once more he holds your face close, but this time around he leans down to kiss you on the forehead. It is a long kiss. It is a warm kiss. It is a meaningful kiss. "The whole world does. And I do even more." Words like these touched chords inside your heart you didn't even know could be touched. Minho always told you so, that you weren't just worthy of his love, but the love of every single person on this planet.

"Yeah, I bet the world loves me if they gave me you." You say, and Minho thinks you are joking. You weren't, but there was perhaps a limit of how sappy a moment can be until it gets truly too much.

"Ew." He jokes back, scrunching his nose to fake disgust. A grin appears on his face, which you mimic.

And that's all you do for a while. Like a movie panorama, you stay there to look at each other. The clouds, the trees, something must have moved with the wind since the sun starts to line both of your faces. One of your eyes starts to squint because of the light, and suddenly it hits you.

"So, are we married now? Where's my ring?"

Minho didn't expect that, and there were a number of reasons why you were sure of it; one, because he starts to blabber and two, because his ears turned red.

"Well, I uh, I uh, don't- I said someday... Not this exact moment! Uhm...Hold on." It's a good thing Minho was a boy scout when he was young, although he would have never thought his skills would come in handy in a situation like this.

You're confused about what he was planning, but you let him do his thing. He squats down next to a group of small, white flowers and plucks them out from the ground in such a manner that their stems remain very long. Then, he picks a strand of grass and takes your hand in his to measure your finger with it. After he has your measurements, he begins to wrap the flower stems around the grass strand with such craftsmanship, almost as if it hasn't been 15 years since he last made a ring out of flowers.

When he is done, he gingerly slides it up your ring finger and he's proud like a child. The ring is cute, tiny and light, and it tickles your finger softly. It's not gold or diamonds, but it is a promise, and it is so much more natural than forged metals and stolen minerals. So much more Minho.

"There you go." He beams proudly. Truth be told, he is flabbergasted he managed to make the ring actually hold without falling apart. "Now we share all of our assets and you are legally obligated to feed my cats when I'm not at home and clean out their litters." He speaks matter of factly, and you slap him on the chest.

"You only want me so I can do your chores! Tsk, I think our marriage is already falling apart." You joke, pretending to turn around and pout. Minho finds you hilarious, especially as he envelops you from the back and holds you in a pretend chokehold.

"The only thing falling apart is gonna be my wallet when I buy you that ring." You don't know if it's the light of the sun or you're blushing, but your face grows hot. Getting married was, of course, the natural order of progressing things in a relationship. But a part of you has always wondered if you are someone to deem worthy of marriage; if that's something that would ever happen to you. Now that such reality was approaching, it did really feel like magic.

Minho released you from the tight hold and decided to walk with your hand in his instead. He was looking at your finger, at the hand-made flower ring, and his quiet, peaceful smile came back to his face.

"I promise I'll get you a real ring soon. You'll have it on your finger by the time we come here again." He speaks softly, in a murmur, but you hear him. You stay quiet, but he sees you nod. You acknowledge his promise, and a completely harmless anxiety mixes in with the excitement that comes with thinking of that day.

"Does that mean we're not gonna have a vacation here for the next 5 years?" Minho rolls his eyes at your question, and the sappiness finally seems to come to an end; you're back to your lighthearted vacation.

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

"Or perhaps I'll make you live in the wild with me for the next five years. If we never leave we can't come back." He wiggles his eyebrows at you, gives you his trademark serial killer look, and there was never a moment when you've loved him more. Never a moment when you've loved him more naturally.

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cielenruine · 2 months ago

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This...certainly wasn't correct. He had started his day as usual. His mental clock woke him before sunrise, as it always did. Right from the start things were wrong. The roll out of his bed was less of a 'thonk' and more of 'tink' as his feet hit the ground. Very quickly he realized either the room suddenly had grown or he had shrunken down a considerable amount. The top of the desk that he so easily could swipe a brush from became a challenge of climbing the chair and getting onto the desk to reach the far side of it. The small mirror he kept pure for the sake of having been a gift revealed to him all to quickly the nature of his predicament. In his reflection was a child...more a toddler than a child but a small little bundle of energy that wouldn't sit still unless there was a book that was simply that intriguing. As tempting as it was to reel back, he did not want to fall. Carefully he backed down out of the chair and onto the floor then sprinted to the closet.

If he even tried to wear the clothes he had, they would fit like untailored dresses. ...somehow he was prepared enough for this though not of his own doing. He never understood the infatuation his Margravine had with keeping clothes that none in the house could no longer fit. It was more beneficial to either give the articles away to children who could or scrap the cloth and use it elsewhere. No, instead he was left staring at an outfit of Sylvain's that he hadn't been able to fit in years that "miraculously" slipped its way into his bags. He could only sigh and the noise sounded so whiney he couldn't help but wince. Putting on the outfit, he ran through the halls that had yet to be lit once more until he settled in front of Lukas's door. Surely he'd understand right...? Or at least help out. Lambert would laugh at him surely and Sylvain...that boy wasn't ready for that sort of responsibility no matter how mature he thought himself. He couldn't knock on the door, the noise was too quite so instead, with both fist the started going at it. "Lukas! If you could open the door it'd be very much appreciated!" It messed with him. That voice was not his it was so...He didn't know what situation was worse, being aware that one was suddenly so small or not being aware and having to deal with whatever perception others had of you. After only a few moments, barely even a minute he felt the tears welling within his eyes...why wasn't he coming...? Had Matthias done something bad...? "I- I want t-to train!" His thoughts felt so disjointed...he hoped this wouldn't last very long...

pawns, knights, and kittens galore || anni 2024 any +1

#[ic]#[pawns knights and kittens galore]#[support: lukas]#//imagine i slightly taller lalafel with a high voice yet such eloquent way of speaking #//except matthias will cry and he's going to fight people in the training grounds after to make himself feel better

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fairyhaos · 1 year ago

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how seventeen act with their black cat s/o

requested by anon : hi! can i request how seventeen would act with an s/o with a "black cat" personality? thank you! :>

notes: while writing this i realised i only Kind Of understand what a black cat personality is lmao. so, uh, just go w it u guys okay

masterlist

seungcheol

black labrador x black cat pairing all the way. when you're exhausted with no energy, he's being your protector. when he's upset and feeling terrible, you're his protector. mutual protecting, you know? but it also feels like the "i'm only my softest when i'm with you" feeling with seungcheol, like being in one another's presence allows you to truly and fully relax

jeonghan

he's still coddling and cooing over you no matter what. you could be the most tsundere, grumpy, annoyed person in the world at that moment but he's calling you adorable and asking you in a cute tone how your day was. it's a good thing that you're really really weak for him tbh, bc if anyone else was calling you a little kitten while pinching your cheeks then they are getting punched.

joshua

still as gentlemanly as ever. calls you extravagant nicknames like "my lord" or "my lady" bc he likes to tease that you having a grumpy nature is just bc you're a very picky person, like royalty. slides an arm around you and goes "is he bothering you queen/king?" whenever someone is talking to you who's obviously annoying you. when you're in a bad mood, he's attacking and tickling you until you fall into laughter again

junhui

tabby cat x black cat supremacy yeahhhh!! he's like the curious, innocent, playful cat to your black cat vibes. tsks when you emerge from your room wearing all black to go out somewhere, makes you go back inside and change one (1) piece of clothing into something with more colour. peppers your face with kisses and then demands kisses of his own too

hoshi

head over heels for you, but needs you to initiate everything. grab his hand while walking down the pavement, give him a kiss on the cheek at random times throughout the day. you don't need to tell him "i love you", though, because he knows that already. knows that you tolerating and even enjoying his hyper nature is an "i love you" enough

wonwoo

so basically, you're just two cats that don't go outside and amuse yourselves at home. it's not that you don't like going out, but when both of you are both content with staying indoors, what's the point? silent communication galore, having the ability to read each other's minds and simply knowing, without having to say anything, just how much you mean to each other

woozi

lowkey, he enjoys it because it means he gets to be the one to talk the most in the relationship. bro has a lot to say, okay, with the funniest opinions and adlibs and really does love talking. he's still a great listener ofc, and sometimes there are days where the both of you just sit in silence. which he finds absolutely brilliant, because he's actually found someone to sit in silence with who's just like him

minghao

the sassy duo. lowkey also the fashion duo, bc i can just imagine you two in matching sunglasses and matching fashion styles, sitting cross-legged and peering, unimpressed, over the rims of the glasses at whoever is being weird this time. the best thing ever is how you just Get each other's sense of humour, and i can imagine endless weird inside jokes between the two of you that make you grin over at each other during big gatherings

mingyu

golden retriever bf (1). bouncy and bumbling and excitable. thinks you're the brightest and loveliest angel in the world. sure, maybe you have your introverted moments and won't let him hug you but personal boundaries exist, right? he gets that. he's your Protector™ fr, even though he knows you're one badass mf that doesn't need protecting

dokyeom

golden retriever bf (2). loud asf. a ray of sunshine that would have blinded you if he wasn't also just adorably soft and sweet. the type to lean over and whisper "so, we don't like them?" when he catches sight of you glaring at someone while you're meeting up with friends. whines like a dejected puppy when you (jokingly) tell him to go away

seungkwan

is kinda sad that you're not all too keen on receiving his kisses and his hugs, but to make up for it he engages in all the other love languages instead until he finds the one that you adore the most. the most accommodating and attentive, bc you may not communicate your opinions that much, but don't worry because he's trained himself to be attentive to your every move

vernon

vernon is normally a listener, but like woozi, being with you allows him to talk more, and also allows you to laugh more. he has the craziest stories which make you smile after a hard day. he enjoys talking, when it's to you, who'll watch him attentively, humming and smiling and he enjoys that it's only him that you'll be so sweet and gentle with

chan

your Biggest Supporter Ever. you don't even need to be doing anything, he's just gonna support you no matter what. would fully believe you if you said that you were taking part in a secret space project to go to Mars. backs you up whenever someone is making you uncomfortable/annoyed/angry no matter the situation. you don't need to say the words "i love you" to him, don't worry, because he says it enough for the both of you.

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reactions tags: @jeonginssa @magicaltonaru @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @turningcarat @zarara @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @iheartyujin @summery-bat @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @ejspencer14 @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @saythename-chess @yonabutnotyuna @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @sunshinekyeom-sang @ocyeanicc @zozojella @thesmellofcoffeeandrain @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @nananacomeonnnn @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @hansolaria @gam3bo1z @marisblogg @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt

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blossomwritesthings · 2 years ago

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𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!minho. sick!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. angst galore. reader is sick. minho is a soft and doting bf. reader has a fainting scare/high temp/migraine. slight possessive behavior from minho (but in a cute and soft way, i promise!!). pet names (affectionately). cuteness overload.

word count: 8.3k

summary: it's the dead of winter when you suddenly come down with a bad case of the flu. and your doting boyfriend minho is more than happy and willing to help you through the pain.

a/n: yes, i am fully on the brainwashing and brainrotting train that is writing minho out to be a soft, caring bf. don't come for me, it's one of the only pleasures in my life rn!! i wrote this in one sitting (and yes, most of the content in here is based off of my own experience with the flu this past year), so it might be horrible or really amazing. lmk what ya'll think and if you'd like more of this content from me! :))

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The first symptom of the flu to come upon you was a sore throat. It happened just after you and Minho had finished eating dinner - since it was a Wednesday night, Chinese takeout had been on the menu.

You were laying in bed, already cozied up in your pajamas and snuggled under the thick coverlets, reading one of the winter-themed books that you had recently checked out at your local library. When, all of a sudden, your throat started to feel scratchy. Every few minutes, you kept reaching over to your nightstand table to take a sip from the glass of water that you always kept there.

Just then Minho came out of the master bedroom’s adjoining bathroom, clad in the black sweatpants that he always wore to bed. He was shirtless since his hot-blooded self could never fall asleep if he had too many clothes on. You got a clear view of his chiseled chest muscles and sinewy biceps as he padded over to you with his slippers on and gave your forehead a gentle kiss.

When he pulled away from you and saw the discomfort that was evident in the way your brows were furrowed together, he frowned slightly. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, tucking a few strands of your loose hair behind your ear as he peered down at you with those sparkly, expressive doe-eyes of his.

“I don’t know, my throat hurts all of a sudden.” You said, swallowing over the painful scratch in your mouth.

“Did you drink some water?”

“Yeah, but it’s not helping…”

“Let me make you some warm tea, then,” your boyfriend reached down and tenderly squeezed your forearm with a tiny smile stretching across his lips. “Surely that will help you feel better.”

“But- Min, it’s too late, you worked so much today… it’s okay, I can make it,” you protested, catching hold of his wrist and stopping him from leaving your side. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, even as your throat was screaming at you for something warm.

“It’s okay, kitten. Making the tea will only take a few minutes, and then I’ll be right back in bed with you.” Just then he bent into you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and ruffling some of your hair with a wide grin on his face. “Wanna help you, baby, hmm?”

And how could you deny that face? Those words? So, you released your grasp over him and watched him flood from the bedroom. Not a minute later you heard rummaging in the kitchen, as your loving boyfriend began to prepare a cup of tea for you.

In his absence, you tried - and failed - to get comfortable in bed again. Your book was long forgotten on your nightstand, and your throat had gotten so progressively worse over a few minutes that swallowing was starting to hurt.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take waiting any longer, Minho walked through your bedroom door with a huge, steaming mug in his hands. “It’s lemon-chamomile flavour… I added some honey for extra comfort, too.” He said as he placed it into your outstretched palms.

“Thank you, baby- don’t deserve you.” You mumbled in a quiet voice, offering him a tiny smile.

“Does it hurt to talk?” He asked as he turned off the lamp on your nightstand before rounding the bed and joining you on his side. He got comfortable underneath the thick duvet before switching off the last remaining light in the bedroom.

Everything was thrown into darkness around you, and for a moment, you were disoriented. But then you felt a familiar hand reach over to you and grasp one of your free hands, squeezing slightly, and you relaxed into your pillows.

“Yeah, kinda…” Your voice trailed off into the night as you took a sip of the tea. It was piping hot, but even still, felt amazing as it went down. You could already feel the chamomile and honey concoction soothing your discomfort away. “This tastes amazing, Min. Thank you.”

Minho snuggled deeper into the covers, shivering a few times from the chill in the air. It was the dead of winter and even with the heat blasting throughout your shared apartment, your place always seemed to have a cold draft traveling between the few rooms. “I’m glad you like it.” Your boyfriend’s voice was heavy, indicating that he was truly exhausted.

You leaned over to him and carded a few fingers through his dark, chestnut-brown hair. “Now, go to sleep, you workaholic. You’ve got a jam-packed schedule for the rest of the week.” You said into the quiet that had suddenly fallen over the bedroom.

Your words suddenly had Minho groaning into his pillow, “Don’t even fucking remind me about tomorrow’s schedule- it’s gonna be hell, for sure,” he began in that deep voice of his that would always come out late at night. You had told him many times in the past that you loved the sound of it, to which he cockily said that he’d try to stay up later with you so that way you could hear it more and gush over how sexy he sounded. Secretly, he loved the praise… a little too much, if you were truly honest with yourself. “You’ll be okay to go to bed?” He suddenly asked, bringing you out of your reverie of thought on his sultry ‘night voice.’

“Just fine,” you whispered, snuggling down under the sheets. You could already feel the heat that was radiating off of Minho’s body, as he slowly warmed the two of you up just with his hot-blooded self alone.

“Okay, then… goodnight, my baby. Feel better in the morning, yeah?”

“Goodnight Min. And sure, I’ll try to.” You replied in a quiet voice.

And then there was no reply from your boyfriend, as he swiftly drifted off to dreamland. After you had finished your tea, you snuggled up against him, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pressing your back against his inviting, bare chest. The chamomile had helped immensely to take the ache in your throat away, and in no time at all, you were joining Minho in dreamland.

When you woke up the next day, your throat hurt like a bitch. You had thought that the night before had been bad, but nothing compared to how dry and scratchy it felt so early in the morning.

Turning over on your side with a groan, you cracked your eyes open against the bright light shining through from the bedroom’s large bay window. You noticed how Minho’s space was already empty. You shifted a palm across his pillow, noting the coldness of the satin fabric.

Stumbling out of bed a few minutes later, you realized how quiet the apartment was. With a glance at the nearby clock on your nightstand, the time read just past seven in the morning. Minho was already long gone.

Since your sore throat had only gotten worse overnight, you deemed yourself unfit to go to work that day. So after having called up your manager and telling her that you had to take a sick day, you slowly got ready for the day. The hot shower worked somewhat in relieving your throat pain, but not by much. And by the time you had dried your hair, brushed your teeth, and thrown on some comfy sweats and one of the many hoodies that you had stolen from Minho throughout your relationship, a spilling migraine had begun to bloom across your temples.

“Just my luck…” You mumbled to yourself as you made your way into the kitchen. With a glance around the adjacent living room/dining room, you noticed how the apartment looked more tidy than usual. Your boyfriend must’ve cleaned the place before he left early that morning. The thought of him picking up because you didn’t feel well left a wide smile on your face as your trudged to the fridge.

Having opened the thing, you noticed a huge soup pot that was covered with a lit, sitting on the middle shelf. A note was attached to the top of it, and it read,

Baby,

Made some rice porridge for you this morning. Didn’t have time to wake you up to tell you, so only kissed you goodbye. Text me after you’re finished eating- I haven’t made the recipe in a while and want to know how I did.

Love you, and hope you feel better,

- Min XX

You felt the emotions rising inside of you as you read the small note again, and soon, your eyes were turning watery from unshed tears. He truly was the best boyfriend ever. Minho was the type of guy who liked to share his love for you in actions. He loved cooking for you and cleaning for you. But over time, since you two had started dating, he had slowly become more expressive with his feelings through words as well. It was a nice change that you gladly welcomed and it made your heart all fuzzy to know that he was trying to be a better lover for you alone.

In no time at all, you had heated a portion of rice porridge for yourself. It was chock full of tender, flavourful chicken, and tons of veggies - like carrots, mushrooms, and even zucchini. You drizzled some fish sauce and soy sauce on top of it and used the chopped-up scallions that Minho had left for you to garnish the porridge.

You took a picture to send to your boyfriend before you dug into the meal. And instantly, you felt so much better. The heat of the porridge slid down your throat and coated your insides with a fuzzy, comforting feeling. It was so very delectable and you finished it in just a few minutes. After you were done eating, you made sure to take some ibuprofen that you had on hand to try and combat the splitting migraine that was upon you.

Sending the picture you had taken earlier of your meal, you quickly texted Minho.

Min Today 10:03

Me: Just had the porridge… WHY have you never made this for me before?! It was amazing!!

Within a minute, he texted back.

Min: Wow, I had no idea you’d like it that much, I’ll have to make it again. It makes me happy to hear that you enjoyed it. :) Did it help with your sore throat? You looked to be in discomfort when I left this morning…

Me: Yes! The porridge really soothed me, I feel better already!

Min: Ok, I’m glad then :) You took off work today, right?

Me: I mean, yeah, since I can barely talk :(

Min: Awe baby :( I’m so sorry. Just rest today, I’ll try to be home earlier than I was last night.

Me: I’ll just be laying in bed all day haha… and ok, have a good day at work! Love you <3

Min: Love you too <;33

Staring at the bright screen of your phone was only making your headache worse, so you turned it off and trekked back to your bed. The exhaustion hit you as soon as your back hit the soft mattress, and halfway through the comfort movie you had turned on on the tv, you were already drifting off to sleep.

Late that same night, the fever started. At first, your cheeks were just flushed, which could happen from time to time. But then, the back of your neck started to feel warm too. And soon, it felt like your entire body had been doused in a scorching hot pit of lava.

Keeping to his word, Minho arrived home an entire hour earlier than the night before. When he walked through the apartment’s front door at eleven with both hands full of groceries, you immediately stood up from the living room couch to help him unpack.

“No, no- I’ve got it. Go sit back down,” he insisted, trying to shoo you away with his hand as he placed the many bags atop the kitchen counter.

You peeked into one of them and saw a huge box of multi-flavoured popsicles. “What’s all this for?” You mumbled in a weak voice.

“You, my dear… want to cook some good meals to help you feel better,” Minho said, turning you towards him so that he could get a good look at your face. When he noticed the deep crimson flush that stretched across your cheeks and traveled down to the part of your next that was exposed from your - formerly his - baggy hoodie, his brows furrowed. “Baby, do you feel warm?” The light in his eyes flashed with concern as he gently pressed a hand against your cheek and forehead.

“Y-yeah, a little…”

“You’re burning up,” Minho said, voice a little panicked as he led you back over to the living room couch, the groceries suddenly forgotten. You had only ever gotten a fever once before in all the time that you two had been dating, and it hadn’t been all that bad, to begin with. And it sure as hell hadn’t made you feel as hot as you did just then. “Here, let me get the thermometer.”

Then he was gone from your side and rushing into your bedroom, in search of the only thermometer you kept on hand. Resting against the couch, you tried to focus on anything else but the soreness in your throat and the heat that flooded through your veins just then. The headache had come back with a vengeance a little earlier that night, the ibuprofen wearing off fairly quickly. Much to your demise.

Minho was beside you again a few minutes later, thermometer in hand. “Baby, open for me,” he instructed, and you opened your mouth slightly so that he could slide the small thing under your tongue. The metal felt cold against your teeth, and time seemed to pass by agonizingly slowly, as you two sat there on the couch and waited for the reading. When it finally beeped loudly, Minho took it out and inspected it. “Nighty-nine-point-eight. You’ve definitely got a fever.”

You closed your eyes then, resting an arm across your eyes and groaning into the crook of your elbow. Even your eyelids felt hot. “Fuck- I’ll have to take off more sick days from work. I really can’t afford to do that-”

“Kitten, I think that’s the least of your worries right now,” your boyfriend said softly just beside you. You felt his hand wrap around your knee and squeeze the skin there gently. “I’m going to get some cold rags, okay? Just- stay here.” By the way that his voice had turned a little high-pitched, you could tell how he was slowly starting to get stressed out about the whole thing. Which was saying a lot, since there wasn’t much in the world that could stress him out.

The two of you rarely fell ill, and when you did, it was always a mild case of the cold. So for you to have so many symptoms all at once, must’ve been very overwhelming for your boyfriend. But, what could you do? The sickness was here, and it was here to stay…

You felt something cold press against your forehead amid your thoughts, and you cracked your tired eyes open to glimpse Minho leaning towards you on the couch, two other wet washcloths in hand.

“These will help to cool you down,” he explained, as he helped move you forward a little bit so that he could place the second cloth behind your neck. Then you let him guide you so that you were fully laying down on the couch, limbs sprawled out. You were too sapped of energy to even ask what he was doing as he gingerly lifted your oversized hoodie. When you felt the coldness of a third, and final washcloth press against your stomach, you understood his sudden actions. “You should take some ibuprofen, that’ll help bring your fever down.”

“I can’t take it without first eating something.”

“Then I’ll make you some food- did you have dinner?”

You shook your head no, the motion only making your pounding headache worse. You winced and grabbed at your head, massaging one of your temples.

“How about I heat some of the rice porridge from earlier?” Minho offered before standing up from his kneeling position on the ground.

But just as he was about to leave your side, you stopped him by grasping at the fabric of his dark-blue sweatpants by his knees. He was still sweaty from the apparent dance practice that he had been doing in the studio just before he came home. “No- I- I’m too nauseous to eat anything right now.” You mumbled, voice cracking a little bit from the pain that was solidly rooted in your throat. Your cheeks were so hot, it felt like you had gotten a sunburn while laying out on the beach, when in reality- you had been lying around your apartment all day, not even catching a single glimpse of the sun through the hazy January clouds outside.

“Okay, well, maybe you can take the medicine later when you feel a little better,” Minho said. He was squatting down at your side then, brushing back your hair from your forehead. “Just rest on the couch here while I put the groceries away, and then we can go to bed.”

You nodded in understanding, too tired to say anything else as he kissed your hot cheek and finally pulled away from your side.

That night turned out to be absolutely horrendous.

You tossed and turned throughout it, not being able to get comfortable. The cold washcloths had done little to help bring your fever down, and the throat lozenges that Minho had gotten for you at the grocery store earlier merely coated your throat in this weird aftertaste that left you coughing for half of the night.

Not to mention the headache.

Which had turned into a full-blown migraine.

The ache wrapped around your entire head, and it felt like someone had your skull in a vice-like grip, squeezing and squeezing the very life out of it.

Your boyfriend, who stayed up with you for the entirety of the night, was a literal fucking saint. He made trips into the bathroom every hour to dampen your washcloths with cold water again and regularly made you tea to try and help relieve your throat.

“Min- baby- you need to stop helping me now,” you whispered through the daze of tiredness. Because if you were drained, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend had to feel - what with having worked for the better half of sixteen hours that day. “You have so much on your plate right now, I can’t expect you to stay up all night just because I’m feeling like shit.”

“S’okay, I’m not sleepy…” But the way his quiet voice drifted off at the end of his words proved differently to you.

You turned on your side in bed, catching a glimpse of your boyfriend’s slumped form through the faint moonlight that shined through the bedroom window’s curtains. His shoulders were hunched over, his head hanging low, as he massaged languid circles into the palm of your closest hand.

“Yes, you are. Now, go to sleep.” You said firmly, pushing on his shoulders so that his head hit his pillow.

At your forceful movement, his eyes shot open. “I can’t leave you like this- baby, you’re in so much fucking pain right now. I-I feel horrible that I can’t help you more.” He said, his tone desperate. He threaded his fingers through yours then, squeezing a little desperately, trying to convey how strongly he felt about staying up with you and helping you practically survive the night.

“I know babe, I know…” You pushed away a few locks of his dark, chestnut-brown hair that had fallen in front of his face, giving him a soft smile. “But you need to sleep now, okay? That’s how you can help me feel better- by going to bed. I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me.”

Minho was silent for a few beats, as you stared into each other's eyes. You were both incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be, but on this topic- you wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t jeopardize his packed schedule while also letting the boys down just because you weren’t feeling well.

“Alright,” he finally surrendered in a defeated-sounding voice. “But, you’ll wake me up if anything happens, right?”

“Of course.” You leaned down into him and gave the crown of his head a soft kiss. “Love you, Min.”

“Love you too…” He said, his eyes already closed. And just like that, you watched his face relax, body melting into the soft downy mattress, as he finally drifted off to sleep.

And hopefully, you’d soon join him in blissful sleep as well.

Turns out that you didn’t get a wink of shut-eye that night, tossing and turning underneath your thin sheet - you had thrown off the thick duvet coverlet that had been laid on top of you early on in the night. A thick coating of sweat covered your entire body, even with the cold washcloths still placed on you. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had been out like a light.

In your sleepless, frail daze, you hadn’t managed to catch him as he left for work early the next morning. But as soon as your eyes opened, your head throbbed from the bright light flooding through your bedroom’s curtains, and a strong wave of nausea overtook you.

You shot from your bed and barely made it to the bathroom. You leaned over the toilet bowl and hurled up the little contents that were left inside of you. The only thing you had eaten the day before was the rice porridge that Minho had made for you in the morning and two strawberry-mango-flavoured popsicles to try and ease your throat.

It still hurt like hell, and your head was pounding from your migraine. When you leaned back from the toilet, a loud groan escaped past your lips from the distress that you were in. You sat there on the cold, tiled bathroom floor for a few minutes, just taking in deep breaths and trying to persuade yourself to get up when all you felt like doing was tipping over and passing out from exhaustion.

In the end, you managed to get up from the hard ground and brush your teeth before making your way back to your nightstand, where you had glimpsed a small piece of paper placed just atop your latest pick from your local library. The nightstand’s clock read just half-past ten o’clock in the morning.

You probably didn’t get much sleep last night. Try to take a nap sometime today when you can.

You need to eat something, but, if you’re too nauseous, at least drink lots of water. There’s some Pocari Sweat in the fridge, so drink plenty of that.

And please, try to take some ibuprofen if you can. It will help bring down your fever. Checked it before I left, temp is now at 102.8. It should’ve broken in the night.

Call/text me whenever you want to, I’ll be available all day and will be home even earlier than yesterday.

Love you, Minho XX

Even through your confused state of pain and weariness, a smile graced your lips at your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness. Since you rarely got sick, it was uncommon for you to experience this exact side of him. It was a whole kind of new Lee Minho, and to be honest, you quite liked it. And although the doting could be a little excessive and suffocating, it was the thought that counted, right?

Somehow, you found enough energy inside of you to get up from your comfy bed and into the shower. The hot water felt amazing on your skin, and did wonders for your bad migraine. You stood under the spout for at least twenty minutes - maybe even more than that. And when you were too tired to keep standing, you sat down on the cold tile of the stall. The steam that the scalding water emitted all around you also helped to calm your inflamed throat down, and you basked in the comforting feeling for quite a while.

It was only after you stepped out of the shower, legs slightly wobbly, that you realized your mistake.

You had a fucking fever, for God’s sake-

It should’ve been very obvious to you-

Not to take a scalding hot shower for that long.

Even still, there was no turning back. And almost immediately, you felt the repercussions of your actions. As you wrapped a fluffy white towel around your body and grabbed for the blow dryer, you suddenly felt very lightheaded.

And not the kind of lightheaded that you would sometimes get if you stood up from a sitting position too quickly.

No, this kind of lightheadedness was the kind where you felt like you were about to fucking pass out.

Just then, you realized how hot your entire body felt. You thought that it had been bad before- but nothing compared to the sheer heat that radiated off of your body.

With a racing heart and shaking limbs, you slowly shuffled out of the bathroom, clutching onto the wall for support. Your vision was going in and out, turning so blurry that you could barely see in front of you.

You fumbled around your nightstand for your phone, and with quaking fingers, you dialed Minho’s number as fast as you could. You were standing just beside your bed, legs feeling like they were about to give out on you. You were so weary and confused and felt like you were about to fall over, so half of what you were doing didn’t even make sense to you. But you knew that you had to get ahold of your boyfriend- in that scary moment, that was the most important thing to you.

The phone rang once,

Twice,

Three times.

Please, just fucking pick up-

Please don’t be in a meeting or at practice or-

“Baby? I’m so glad you called, how are you-” His gentle, serene voice rang out across your phone’s speaker that was pressed to your ear.

You let out a sob of relief, the tears finally flowing down your cheeks. “M-Min, I-I can’t-“ It was hard for you to speak over the dizziness and confusion.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” Minho’s voice immediately turned frantic at your mumblings.

“S-So dizzy- got out of the shower and- and gonna pass out- help me, Min, please-” It felt like your knees were about to buckle just then, but Minho’s voice cut through your heated stupor.

“Lie down right now, baby. You close to the bed?”

“Y-yeah-”

“Lie down, completely stretch out your body. Can you do that for me?”

You said nothing more, shifting towards your bed and collapsing on top of it with a tiny gasp of exhaustion. “I-I’m on it-”

“I’m leaving the company right now,” Minho’s exclamation broke through your daze of fatigue.

“W-What? Baby- no, don’t- you have an important recording today and-”

“To hell with the schedule!” He was suddenly shouting through the phone, making you pull it away from your ear from the loudness. It only made your headache worse. When he heard your whimper of pain, he began speaking again but in a quieter voice. “I’m sorry for yelling, baby- it’s just that, the company can’t expect me to go to work when the fucking love of my life is about to pass out from the flu that she has.” His voice was much calmer this time and helped to soothe your racing heart a little bit. Your limbs were still shaking though, your vision going in and out.

There was silence on both your ends, as your slow mind processed his words. You heard shuffling on his line and muffled voices. Then he was talking to someone - it sounded like Chan - their whispers were hard to hear over the static of the phone.

“Baby?” Minho’s voice cut through your tiredness. You opened your eyes weakly, trying to focus your attention on the painting that hung on the wall just beside your flatscreen tv. It was of a single, pink tulip positioned in a grassy field. The piece was something that Hyunjin had gifted you for your birthday in the past year. “I want you to stay on the phone with me until I get home, okay? Just keep talking to me - about anything - just don’t close your eyes, alright?”

His instructions seemed like absolute torture to you right then, because all you wanted to do was close your eyes and let go - let your mind drift off into wonderland for even a few blissful seconds. “I’ll try,” you started, voice quiet as you nuzzled into the bed’s thick duvet that was still messed up from the night before. You hadn’t found the energy to make it yet. “I-I threw up this morning.”

“Oh, darling- I’m so sorry I wasn’t there… but, I’ll be there soon, yeah? I’ll take care of you, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” His tone was laced with concern, and a tiny smile spread across your lips at how attentive he was being toward you.

The entire thirty-minute commute that he took every day from your apartment to the company, you stayed on the line with your boyfriend, talking about whatever came to your mind. You were still nauseous, so food was never brought up, mainly just the changing weather and what you wanted to do that weekend since he’d have a break from schedules that Saturday, which was quite a rare occurrence for him.

Laying down on the bed had helped your dizziness somewhat, but every time you shifted just a little bit, your vision would go blurry again. It was annoying as fuck, to add yet another symptom to your myriad of other problems.

“I’m pulling up to the apartment right now, so I’ll hang up. Wait for me, baby.” Minho finally said after what felt like an eternity of him traveling home from the company. You mumbled an incoherent ‘yes’ before he hung up the call.

True to your promise, you kept your eyes open, laying as still as a statue on the bed. You were back to studying Hyunjin’s flower painting just as you heard the front door’s keypad being used. A breath of relief left you as shuffling echoed throughout the one-bedroom apartment, and in no time at all, there your boyfriend was- rushing into your bedroom with a wild look in his eyes and flushed cheeks, his dark brows furrowed.

“Kitten-“ he breathed out in a sight of relief at the sight of your still-awake form, “C’mere.” He dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door before he was bounding towards you. In one swift movement, he was lifting you off the bed, taking you up into his arms, and cradling your head against his chest as he sat back down on the bed’s plush mattress.

The tears started again almost as soon as he had you in his arms. Your sobs wracked through your body, as he brushed soothing fingers through your hair. You knew that crying would only make your migraine worse, but you couldn’t give a flying fuck about anything just then. You were just so happy to see your boyfriend, after such a disastrous morning.

“Y-You came back for me,” you sniffled after a long bout of silence that was filled with only your cries. You pulled away from his chest, looking up at him through blurry vision. “I-I was so scared, Min.”

Minho swiped his thumbs underneath your eyes, gently catching your falling tears with the pads of his soft fingers. “Of course I did, baby. I love you… and it kills me to see you this way. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”

“Just glad you’re here now,” you whispered, clutching onto his waist a little harder. “I’ll feel better now with just your presence alone… but, how long are you staying for?”

He tucked a few strands of your still-sopping wet hair behind your ear. In your dizziness, you hadn’t found the time to dry it yet. “Not leaving you again, darling. The company gave me the day off, Chan helped me persuade them.”

“B-But you’re gonna miss such an important day of schedules and-”

Your boyfriend shushed you with a slender finger to your lips. “It’s already done now, Y/N. So let’s just focus on helping you feel better, alright? By firstly, getting you dressed.”

You looked down and realized that you were still only clad in your soaked towel. “Wow, I didn’t even realize I was still in this…” Your voice trailed off, as Minho placed you back down on the bed and made for your walk-in closet.

“Is it a sweatpants and hoodie kinda day again?” He asked as he poked his head into the closet.

“A-Actually, I’m too hot to wear anything thick,” you managed to stutter out, perched at the edge of the bed. And soon enough, your loving, doting boyfriend emerged from the closet with a pair of soft, black cotton shorts and a thin, maroon-colored camisole.

“Will this do?” He questioned, holding up the items for you to inspect them from across the room.

Wordlessly, you nodded your approval. And soon enough, he was shifting his way toward you. In no time at all, he had helped slip the shorts up your bare legs, the loose waistband resting gently against your hips. Then, he guided the camisole over your head, gently pulling the thin spaghetti straps over your shoulders.

“All good?” Leaning forward, he tucked a piece of your wet hair that had fallen into the front of your face behind your ear.

“Mhm- but my hair’s still wet from the shower,” you mumbled, staring up into his dark pupils that were dancing with a myriad of emotions - but especially, concern. “Carry me?” You asked, reaching out your arms to him, supple and waiting, like a small baby that wanted to be carried by someone they trusted.

“Always, kitten.” He whispered, just as he pulled you up into his hold. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he charged for the bathroom. And soon, you were sitting atop the granite counter, as he ran his fingers through your hair.

The blow dryer was loud in your ears, and the heat from it only seemed to raise your temperature even more. You still had your legs wound around Minho’s torso as he worked with nimble fingers to dry your hair. You tipped your head towards his hand every time he ran a brush through your locks.

When he was finished, he pressed a palm against your forehead for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re still burning up, baby…” His voice trailed off, as he leaned across the counter, grabbing a stray hair bobble. He pulled your hair away from your face and fitted it into a loose ponytail at the back of your head. Immediately upon the feeling of your thick locks being out of your face, a content sigh of relief escaped past your lips. “I really need you to take that ibuprofen, honey.” A deep frown bloomed across his lips, turning his mouth downwards in a displeased kind of way.

“My migraine isn’t as bad as it was earlier, so I think I can choke something down now.” You said. Your eyes were still closed, as you breathed in the familiar scent - of warm, dark roasted coffee and cinnamon sticks - of your boyfriend.

And in no time at all, he had you seated on the living room couch, your eyes trailing over the food that he prepared for lunch. There was a bowl of the porridge that he had made the day before, a piece of plain, white buttered toast, and a yellowed banana. Not to mention the medicine set off to the side with a tall glass of water.

“Eat, baby.” Your boyfriend took hold of the tray that the food was on and positioned it on your lap.

He was sitting beside you on the couch, gaze locked on your form with a certain kind of intensity that would make you anxious if you didn’t know him so well. The intensity he had was only borne out of concern. He so desperately wanted you to get better, that’s all.

“Thank you, Min… it looks delicious.” You pecked his cheek gently, watching as a soft smile cracked across his lips before you delved into the lunch.

You had to admit, the food was exceptionally good. The porridge helped to alleviate your throat, and the bread filled your stomach comfortably. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had truly been until you started eating. But halfway through the meal, you stopped when you noticed how your boyfriend hadn’t moved from his spot of watching you.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” You asked, motioning towards your spoon that was laden with porridge.

He shook his head slowly, “Want to take care of you first, that’s all.”

You gave him a deep frown. “Min, you're already taking care of me. Just making this meal is enough for me.”

“I know, but I wasn’t here earlier- don’t want to take my eyes off you for even a second, in case something happens.”

“I’m not going to pass out, baby. I’m fine now. So please, eat some lunch, yeah?”

“You still have the flu, Y/N. Just because you haven’t passed out yet doesn’t mean you won’t in the future,” Minho crossed his arms in front of his chest, canting his head to the side, eyes trailing on your red-cheeked face. “And I want to be sure I’m here to catch you if that happens.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence…” You grumbled softly, turning your attention back to your cooling porridge. There was no use fighting him on the matter anyway. He was a stubborn mule when he wanted to be, and apparently, Minho would run himself ragged before he ever looked away from you again.

It was only after you had finished your lunch, and had downed four ibuprofen pills and a glass of water with it, that Minho finally got up from the couch to put your dishes away and make something for himself. He rounded the couch a few minutes later, pressing a cold washcloth against your head. The sudden coolness surprised you, and you slightly sat up from your laying position on the couch to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend.

Minho took a seat at the end of the couch, near your feet, a plate of food in his hands. For his meal, he was having a rather bland-looking sandwich, with a green apple sliced thin set off to the side.

“That’s all you’re having to eat?” You raised an eyebrow at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at him.

His gaze was already on you even before you met his stare, as he bit into his sandwich. “Don’t pass judgment on my habits when you hadn’t eaten anything until just now.��

“But I’m the one who’s sick here…” You protested, shaking your head in disapproval at the lack of food on his plate. He was a growing guy, always in the gym, always straining his body for work. He needed to eat enough to fuel himself properly. Changbin was always harping about such things to the boys, but especially, your boyfriend. Since, as Changbin put it, ‘he never seems to get enough macros in for his height and weight range.’ Whatever the hell that meant.

To that, Minho said nothing, merely biting into his sandwich once more. His silence only made you more agitated with him, and that, coupled with your slightly-pounding migraine and your drowsiness only helped to add fuel to the fire.

“I”m worried about you, Min… you need to eat more if you want-”

“You’re worried?” He suddenly let out a dry, humorless scoff. And instantly, you recognized his tone. In the blink of an eye, his entire demeanor shifted. It changed from the intensity he had from caring for you, to the intensity that he always got whenever he was worked up. Whenever he was worked up about you, and your safety. “I’m the one who’s fucking worried here, Y/N!” He practically burst out in a loud voice, throwing his plate down on the nearby coffee table in his sudden exclamation.

“Minho-” You began in a soft voice but you were quickly cut off by his raising voice once more.

“Do you have any fucking idea how scary it was to get a call from you this morning and have you practically fighting for your very life to not pass out right then and there?” He ran a few frantic fingers through his hair, clutching at the roots, slightly bending over, and resting his elbows against his knees. “Because damn it- I was practically shaking from all the worry. And then I come home and find you literally naked and sopping wet and crying and-” Just then, his voice cracked, his words fading off into the distance.

And in the next beat, you were moving. Towards him, so that you were right up in his personal space. You took hold of one of his hands, pulling it away from tugging at his locks of brown hair. Squeezing your fingers between his own, you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his hand.

“Baby, I’m so sorry… it’s my fault that everything became such a big mess. I didn’t have to take such a long, hot shower.” You admitted, giving his skin another kiss.

Minho pulled his head up just then, as it had dropped between his hunched shoulders in his distress. His eyes slid over to yours instantly. “Don’t apologize, none of this is your fault. You were only trying to relieve your symptoms, I get it.” He held onto your hand a little tighter, like in that moment, he needed to be grounded in the reality of you. That you were still there with him, still living and breathing, albeit tired as hell and ill to the bone. But still, there nonetheless. “And please, just... don’t leave me, okay? I can’t lose you, baby… I can’t…” His voice became a tiny whisper at the end of his words, misery flashing across his face, radiating deep in the way that his eyes softened at the sight of you, his brows creasing with the tears that he could never seem to shed.

“Min, I have the flu… not the damn plague.” You laughed, lips grazing his hand again as you placed another peck against his skin. “And of course, I’m not going to leave you.”

“Good, because I’m never going to leave you either.” And suddenly, he was taking hold of you, pulling you onto his lap and burrowing his face into the crook of your exposed neck. He blew raspberry kisses against your heated skin, making you burst out into a fit of giggles. You kicked your feet up into the air, trying to escape him as his nimble fingers tickled you at your sides.

And all at once, just for a few minutes, he helped you forget about everything - about your sickness, the discomfort, and the fatigue. All of it. Helping by kissing away the swarthy thoughts and tension-filled temples.

Later that day, your fever finally broke. The medicine seemed to kick in just in time and helped to completely take away your headache. Your throat still felt dry and scratchy, but continually downing warm cups of tea was slowly helping that. You and Minho spent the day lounging around the apartment, watching random reality shows that were playing on the tv, and indulging in a whole pint of chocolate ice cream an hour before bed.

But despite having all that sugar and caffeine right before laying down, you found that sleep threatened to take over you as soon as your head hit the pillow.

“Will you go in to work tomorrow?” You asked, laying on your side and facing your boyfriend as he sprawled out in the bed just a little ways away from you.

“I don’t know… I hope not.”

“The boys will need you, baby. I think you should.”

After all, he was an integral part of the team. He couldn’t simply disappear from Stray Kids for even a few days and not have them feel the lasting effects of his absence.

“Let’s not worry about that and just focus on going to bed, okay?” He reached out to you, clutching onto your hip and pulling you towards him.

When your forehead was comfortably rested against his bare, muscled chest, you peered up at him with a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks for taking care of me today, honey. I don’t deserve you…”

He pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his voice rumbling with sleep as he spoke, “I’ll do anything for you, kitten. And of course, you deserve me- I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

Without another word said between the two of you, you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. Your boyfriend's comforting scent washed over you, seeming to soothe a tender spot inside of you, and all at once, you were falling fast and hard into a deep slumber.

The first thing you noticed when you awoke the following morning was that for once in what felt like an eternity, the blinding morning light shining through the bedroom curtains didn’t automatically make you feel like shit. Instead, it helped to place a content feeling deep inside your heart.

And the second thing that you noticed when you awoke the following morning was the fact that your boyfriend was still in bed.

He had both arms wrapped around your waist, and when you dragged away from his chest, a muffled groan fled from his slightly-parted lips.

With a glance at your nearby clock, you noticed how it was well past the time that he usually got up for work.

Minho cracked an eye open from the shifting of your figure, a lazy smirk blooming across his mouth at the sight of your eyebrows raising on your forehead in surprise. “Guess I won’t be going in to work after all…” He said, voice husky with sleep.

You squirmed in his arms until you were loose enough to get a good look at him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and suddenly, you thought that perhaps the huskiness of his voice wasn’t just from sleep. “Why are you staying home today? I thought you said you were going to go into the office.”

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, that same smirk was still on his face. “The sore throat woke me up in the middle of the night.”

A loud groan bubbled up and out of you, as you scrubbed a frustrated hand across your face. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hey- well, at least you’re feeling somewhat better now… that way, you can take care of me when I nearly pass out after a hot shower.”

With that, you shoved at his shoulder gently, sending a glare his way. “This isn’t funny, Min. You shouldn’t have gotten so close to me- shouldn’t have kissed me! Now you can’t go to work for God knows how long because of this stupid flu!”

He waved a noncommittal hand in the air, batting away your worries like he didn’t have seven other boys who depended on him, like he didn’t have a whole company counting on his work, like he didn’t have millions of worldwide fans anticipating his presence. “Eh- to hell with it all, I was bored with work anyway. And besides, I cannot ever stop myself from kissing you, baby. At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s hardwired into my brain as a daily need to function.” He gave you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes exasperatingly.

“You're so stupid,” you grumbled, hating the idea of seeing him go through the same pain you went through. You had survived the worst of it already, but you wouldn’t wish it on anyone - not even your worst enemy. “Well, you better promise that you won’t be a pain in my ass and actually accept my help when you need it.”

He shook his head noncommittally, “I shall make no such promises.” You felt a hand clutch at one of your sides, just as he was pulling you against his warm body once more. “Now, c’mere and give me a kiss.”

You smiled against his mouth, melting into his hold as he pressed kiss after soft kiss to your lips.

Because even though now you were both sick,

At least you had each other.

And at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered…

That Minho had you, and you had him.

So even despite feeling like a literal ball of hot, steamy garbage baking in the summer heat,

You felt like, at that moment, you could whether anything in life - any storm coming your way, any curve ball thrown at you, any toxic person coming into your path,

Just as long as you had him by your side.

As long as you had Lee Minho, your beautiful, loving, eccentric, doting boyfriend, you’d be just fine.

Fin.

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