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godslino · 9 months ago

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PIECE BY PIECE | minho first date series. friends to lovers.

pairing: minho x fem!reader word count: 6.2k genre: college au, mutual pining, fluff, angst warnings: drinking, referenced injury (very minor) summary: minho, on a drunken whim, asks you out on a date.

a/n: finally!! the minho part!! i’ve been sooo excited about this one since i first got the idea. i hope you guys enjoy! once again any and all feedback is appreciated, happy reading <3

“Dude, I think it’s clean.”

Minho looks up from where he’s scrubbing the counter, eyes narrowed. So what if it’s his third time going over every surface in the kitchen?

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and make more crumbs?”

Jeongin’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. He holds up his hands in surrender, the bag of chips in his lap crinkling. “I’m just saying. You’re acting like she’s never seen the place before.”

That’s the problem. You’ve seen his place. Minho has to stop the shudder that threatens to overtake his body at the thought.

“So you’re not helping? Great. Get out.”

“I live here!” Jeongin whines. “Why do I have to get out? You can’t banish me like this.”

“I can and I will. Now leave. I have two hours to make sure everything is ready and I am not going to vacuum for a fourth time.”

“Yes mom,” Jeongin rolls his eyes as he unfolds his legs from underneath him.

He stops just short of the kitchen counter, points an accusatory finger at Minho’s disheveled figure still hunched over an imaginary stain.

“For the record, Chan hyung would never do this to me. He loves my crumbs.”

Minho throws the scrub daddy at him.

🏠

The night it happens, all it takes is approximately three shots and a pep talk from Hyunjin for Minho to finally find the nerve to ask you out.

“You’ve got this,” the younger boy says, words slurred, his hands steady on both Minho’s shoulders. The bass thumps loud in the other room, drowned out by the walls of the kitchen until it’s nothing but garbled nonsense going in one of his ears and out the other, vibrations low in his chest.

“I’ve got this.” Minho repeats, the thrum of alcohol already spreading to his fingertips. He feels warm, light on his feet. His limbs are starting to loosen up and his insides are turning to jelly. He might even be floating.

“You look hot.”

“I look hot.”

“She’s gonna say yes.”

“You’re gonna venmo me twenty dollars.”

“I’m gonna venmo you twenty dollars.” Minho parrots before he can even process what he’s saying. Changbin, who’d been watching the entire thing unfold from where he stands with his back pressed against the sink, snorts.

“Wait, what the f—”

“Go get her!” Hyunjin screams, pushing him through the door of the kitchen with one last pat on the back, “And send me my money!”

Minho stumbles over himself, just barely able to stop in time before he goes crashing into a group of people. The living room is crowded: there’s furniture pushed up against the walls, bodies pressed front to back in the middle of the floor, a makeshift DJ stand in the corner where Chan is controlling the music from his laptop, drink in hand. Minho catches his eye from across the room, the glow of the LEDs reflecting off the toothy grin he shoots his way, dimples on full display.

“Hey!” Minho feels someone grab his arm, and he turns to find you staring up at him. “Where’d you go? You said you were gonna get a drink.”

Minho follows your eyes down to where you’re staring at his empty hands. “I—uh, well. I ran into Hyunjin and we took a few shots.”

The pout you give him does nothing but spur on the fluttering of his chest, his brain still hyper aware of the way your hand was resting on his elbow. “Shots? I want shots!” you whine, and Minho has to avert his gaze from staring at your lips when your pout only worsens.

“How much have you had?” he tries to ask over the music. There’s a shitty pop song playing, high pitched and wonky. If he remembers in the morning, he’ll make sure he berates Chan about his DJ-ing abilities.

“What?” you scream back, tiptoeing to bring your mouth closer to his ear.

Minho is only a man. A man who's been in love with you since the moment you accidentally spilled your coffee all over Hyunjin in the quad during freshman year. He remembers that day well, remembers the way your eyes went wide and your lips parted. He also remembers the way he wished it was him with the large wet stain on his shirt, that way it was him that was offered to have his lunch bought as an apology.

He’d never admit it, but sometimes really late at night, when the moon is high in the sky and he’s feeling oddly sentimental, he counts his lucky stars that Hyunjin had been in a relationship at the time. Minho doesn’t know what he would’ve done had he been forced to watch the two of you hit it off—some form of arson, presumably. Anything to take the edge off. But because of the fact that Hyunjin was not trying to have his head cut off by said girlfriend at the time, he invited Minho along as some sort of collateral damage. That’s when the two of you became friends. Kind of perfect if you ask him.

With the jumbled mess of butterflies in his stomach that he gets whenever you’re near him, and the threat of the alcohol slowly seeping through his skin, his brain short circuits the minute your breath grazes the shell of his ear. When your hand follows not long after, fingers gripping the nape of his neck to hold him in place, he almost passes out.

“Min? What’d you say?”

Minho is rendered completely useless by you. Absolutely ruined. Your existence has thrown his entire plan to woo you off course and now his mouth is opening and closing like a badly programmed robot. Pathetic. Nuts and bolts for brains.

By the grace of God (or some other higher being that Minho’s never bothered to believe in until this very moment) he finds his voice, but not before you’re pulling back with a confused look on your face.

“I asked how much you’ve had to drink,” he says, straining against the music.

A saccharine sweet grin that has him seeing stars spreads across your face, “Not enough!”

Minho is not an enabler. Never has been, never will be. There was one time, back in that fateful freshman year that also introduced the two of you, that he let Hyunjin get blackout drunk. A terrible decision on his end, if the earful he got from Chan the next morning was anything to go by. And as if that wasn’t enough, he was finding remnants of the resulting hacking session for the following week. So yeah, never again.

But while Minho isn’t an enabler, he is smitten, and the way your hand feels wrapped around his wrist as you drag him into the kitchen has his soul threatening to leave his body. He thinks that maybe he could do anything as long as you asked. He also hopes you can’t feel the way his pulse is rabbiting beneath his skin, right under the press of your thumb.

“There’s, like, nothing here.” you say as you rummage through the cupboard near the window, nose scrunched and a frown on your face.

Minho laughs, rounds the kitchen island to crouch down and open the cabinet under the sink. “That’s because you don’t know where to look,” he smirks, pulling out a fresh bottle of tequila. “Also, Chan hyung is greedy. He knows people like you will go scavenging his supply if he isn’t careful.”

“I resent that.” you frown, taking the bottle from him. “Besides, people like me deserve to have fun too.”

“Mhm, sure.” Minho says, grabbing a solo cup. He holds his hand out for the bottle, pours just the right amount before sliding it over and following it up with a can of coke.

“A man after my heart.” you joke, holding your cup up to him in a mock toast before downing it in one go. Minho watches with so much focus, fighting against the way his head spins. He doesn’t even know if it’s the alcohol anymore, it might just be the effect you have on him. Dizzying—you flip his entire world on its axis in the best way possible.

Minho’s gonna be seeing your exposed neck in his dreams later, he’s sure of it—it’s branded into his memory.

“That…is so fucking bad.” you giggle, holding your cup out. “Another one.”

Minho clicks his tongue. “I don’t know…”

“Pleaseeee Min,” the lilt in your voice sounds oddly familiar. Minho holds his breath just in case you—yup. There it is. There goes that pout again.

It’d be so easy for him to lean down and kiss it right off your lips. He could blame it on the alcohol, maybe, but then that takes away from how he actually means it.

He sighs instead. “It’s gonna cost you.”

“An arm and a leg?”

“What? No—I meant some water.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Three shots and a full bottle of water later, Minho knows you’ve hit your limit. Cheeks flushed pink, a dopey grin on your face, pupils blown wide. Even in this state, Minho is certain that you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Anotherrrr,” you slur, waving your cup in his face.

Minho shakes his head. “No can do. You’re cut off.”

“Please,” you whine, placing both hands on his shoulders, “I’ll do anything.”

Minho, completely taken back by the sudden closeness of your body to his, freezes.

“Anything?” he asks before he can stop himself.

This is stupid. You’re drunk. There’s no way you’re going to remember anything in the morning, much less within the next thirty minutes. He’s pretty sure that you’ll lose control of all your senses soon, which is why he’s already texted your roommate Jiwoo to unlock the door so he can carry you inside. Nothing he hasn’t done before.

“Anything,” you repeat, eyes going cross-eyed where they’re fixing on the mole he has at the tip of his nose.

This is stupid. But then again, so is Minho. A big, stupid fool that blames everything on the fact that he’s so in love with you it hurts. This might be the only chance he gets to shoot his shot.

Minho takes a deep breath, says something similar to a little prayer that’s more like Hey, if anyone’s listening, help a guy out, and hopes that the twenty bucks he sent Hyunjin works.

“Go on a date with me.” he says slowly, wincing when your eyes snap up to meet his gaze.

Well, there’s really no going back from that. The only thing that could possibly grant him redemption now is banking on the fact that you don’t remember anything in the morning.

Minho waits with bated breaths, watches as your eyes search his for a long while. He waits for the anger, the disgust, the visible repulsion that he starts to think might happen the longer the silence continues.

He’s about to backtrack, quickly conjuring up an excuse about how Oh, haha, gotcha! when your hands suddenly drop from his shoulders. You grab the cup, your chin tipped upwards, and hold it out for him to fill.

“Okay.”

“O…kay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Pour me another one.”

The next morning, when Minho all but drags himself into the kitchen in search of water and something to soothe the throbbing in his head, he nearly spits a mouthful at Jeongin, the poor guy too busy eating his cereal to realize he’s gotten a front row seat in the splash zone.

Y/N [10:34am]

when do you want to do that date?

🏠

Are candles too much?

Minho has options: clean linen, lavender breeze, ocean mist, warm vanilla. He really just needs something to get rid of the smell of cleaning spray.

He thought that having a night in for a first date would be ideal—less pressure, no unwanted attention, a bathroom that he can run into when he starts to hyperventilate if you smile at him for too long. But now that it’s happening, he’s convinced that every surface of his and Jeongin’s shared apartment will scare you away if anything so much as looks off-putting.

Minho is, to put it simply, freaking out. All the other times you’ve been over to his place were on a completely platonic level. Movie nights with all the other guys in tow, dropping off food that you felt generous enough to buy every once in a while, one time because you’d accidentally worn Minho’s jacket home from a party and needed to return it to him.

But this is different. This is a date. Minho’s not dreaming—he already pinched himself a dozen times in the bathroom mirror, tiny red marks on the inside of his forearm to prove it. He’s going to open the door, invite you in, cook for you, and then proceed to resist the urge to tell you how beautiful you are for however long the night continues on after that. He can practically hear Jeongin’s laugh in the back of his head, sneering at how pathetic his inner monologue sounds right now.

He needs to find another stain to scrub.

By the time you’re knocking on his door, Minho has changed his outfit seven times. Sweats were too casual, a button up was too fancy. Should he not have done his hair? No, that’s just lazy, the way his fringe is swept up and out of his forehead adds a nice touch that doesn’t scream Hey! I’m trying to woo you! You’ve never been the type to be impressed by grand gestures and shows of confidence anyways, he knows that well.

One time, when a guy from one of the frat houses hired the campus quartet to sing a song for you in the quad as he stood there with big beady eyes and a bouquet of roses in his hand, you’d all but ran from the scene, Minho following close behind as you called out to him over your shoulder. It’s one of his fondest memories. As soon as the two of you made it around the back of the science building, you’d doubled over in laughter, the both of you in disbelief at what had happened. Minho has had that information tucked into the deepest parts of his brain ever since, saved just in case he needed it.

(Later that night, in the safety of his own bed, he’d laughed maniacally at the situation. Something about watching you reject another guy filled him with a sense of joy he couldn’t explain. He just hoped he was never going to be on the receiving end of it.)

He does a quick once over of the kitchen: double checks that all the ingredients are out, blows a speck of dust off the glass stovetop, spins the tiny floral arrangement he bought so that it’s sitting at just the right angle. When the doorbell rings, the chime bouncing off the walls of the apartment, he visibly pales.

He has to reel it in, to remember that it’s just you. You might not even be here with any intentions other than to fulfill your end of the deal; one date in exchange for the extra three shots he poured you the other night. Minho takes a deep breath, grips the doorknob with conviction, and decides that he’s determined to show you the way you deserve to be treated. The opportunity is there, and he’s gonna take it.

As soon as the door swings open, every nerve that had somehow crept its way into his brain disappears, the sight of you standing on the other side immediately sending the anxiety scrambling and replacing it with fondness instead.

“Hi,” you smile, and Minho sees images of you coming home to his apartment flash across his mind. After class, after work, in the winter when it’s cold and your nose is tinted pink, on rainy days where the ends of your hair are damp and you have a wet umbrella in tow. He could get used to it. He’s so in love that it hurts.

“Hey,” he breathes out, stepping aside to make way for you, “Come in. Are you hungry?”

“Starving, actually. Been saving myself all day since I don’t always get to have your cooking.” You hop on to one of the stools, your attention momentarily stolen by the flower arrangement. One point for Minho.

I’d cook for you every day, he wants to say. But that’s weird, right? So instead, “Well then I guess today is your lucky day.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” You say softly.

Minho can’t see you with the way his back is turned, hands moving to grab out the knife and cutting board, but if he could he’d see the way your eyes are staring softly at his back, the ghost of a smile on your lips.

Conversation flows easily after that, despite Minho’s original worries about it being awkward. You’re not necessarily treating it as a date, and he isn’t really either. It feels more like a glorified hangout, just the two of you spending time together with the added glances and smiles that normally wouldn’t be there.

Minho finds it easy to get lost in you. He finds himself craving to know more about your day, about the things that’ve been on your mind lately and the hobbies you’ve picked up. Most of the conversation is a continuation of stuff that’s fallen through the cracks during the times you see each other, but he doesn’t miss the way you ask about him too, your eyes shining with genuine interest. It makes his heart slam against his ribcage.

“How are your cats doing?”

Minho looks up from the cutting board, follows your gaze to where it’s fixed on the scattered pictures that litter his fridge. “They’re good,” he says, smiling down at a head of garlic, “My mom sends pictures all the time. She says they claw at the door to my room when they miss me.” He smashes the garlic under the knife’s blade by hitting it with the heel of his palm. “It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.”

Minho, in a very flashy demonstration of what it means to be cool, calm, and collected, slices his thumb mid-chop.

“Shit.” he mutters, dropping the knife.

It’s not that bad, just a little nick, the surprise was mostly what scared him. He probably doesn’t even need a bandaid. But despite how small it is, nothing stops you from hurriedly walking up to him and taking his hand in yours, his thumb held closely to your face for inspection.

“Are you okay?” You turn his hand over between your fingers, the soft pads of them against his calloused ones. Minho is dumbfounded, struggling to find the words to say.

“Yeah—um, it’s fine. My fault. I was distracted.” He stammers out, pulling his hand back and holding it up. He wiggles his fingers, making a show of bending and twisting his thumb that, at most, has just a small cut on the side. “See? Perfect.”

Your face relaxes, and then you’re laughing. Why are you laughing? Either Minho looks like a complete idiot or he’s suddenly the funniest person in the world for being clumsy and reckless and almost ruining the night by losing a finger. Whichever one it is, he doesn’t care, as long as he gets to hear that sound again.

“Let me help cook, please? I know you said you would do it all but clearly you’re a threat to the integrity of this meal.” You say, bumping your hip against his to move him away from the cutting board.

Minho scoffs. “I wouldn’t have done that if you didn’t catch me off guard.”

“So what? You admit that I make you flustered?”

Oh.

Minho wasn’t prepared for this. He wasn’t prepared for the—the flirting that’s clearly happening. You’re flirting with him, right? Why else would you have called him cute or given him that suspicious side eye after you asked that question?

You and Minho have joked around like this before, but it was always empty with no real feelings attached—as far as he could tell. You’re a naturally friendly person, getting along with others comes easy to you. He’s seen the way you talk to the other guys and has always just assumed he was no different in your eyes than they were. Sure, there were moments where maybe your hand lingered on his arm for a little while after he made you laugh, or the two of you would steal glances across the room. Sometimes when Hyunjin said something stupid you’d both catch the other’s eye and make a face, just another funny way of proving that you were both on the same wavelength most of the time. It’s kind of why Minho is so taken with you—he’s never met anyone that gets him the same way.

Reluctantly, Minho puts his pride aside and allows you to help. And as it turns out, you’re actually really good at cooking. Minho doesn’t have to instruct you much, and before he knows it you’re both working like a well-oiled machine, scooting past one another as you switch places between the stove and the sink, reading each other’s minds without even having to ask.

“Taste this.” You say, holding the spoon up to his mouth. Minho leans forward, front teeth poking out, and brings the spoon into his mouth. You cup your hand under his chin to catch any droppings, watching in anticipation as he smacks his lips together.

His eyes light up, big and brown and twinkling under the light of the kitchen. “Perfect.” He smiles.

“Oh you have—uh,” you stop him with a hand on his forearm just as he’s about to turn back to the sink, your other hand hovering next to his face hesitantly, “It’s just, um, your—here.”

Minho’s eyes go wide when your thumb swipes against the corner of his mouth, your touch feather light. It’s so intimate, the only sound being the music playing low from the speaker on the counter. He’s half convinced that you’re able to hear his heartbeat, blood pumping loud in his ears.

“You had some sauce…on your face.” You say shyly, your palm still pressed to his cheek.

“…Oh.”

Minho’s never really looked into your eyes from this close up before. He’s always known they were beautiful, the shape of them soft, full of nothing but the world. He can see himself in them from here, and, selfishly, he hopes you can see yourself in his, too.

He might be imagining it when your gaze flicks down to his lips for just a fraction of a second, but there’s no time to unpack any of that when the sauce starts bubbling over the edge of the pot, spilling on to the burner as loud sizzling and smoke fills the kitchen.

It’s chaos. The bottom of the pot is burnt and there’s only so much of it that’s salvageable. He only bought the exact amount of ingredients too, because this is a self-proclaimed no-food-waste household (as explicitly stated in the napkin contract he has with Jeongin, much to his dismay). So, hooray for conscious consumption of goods!

At the end of it all, there’s no one to blame. You’re both guilty of…whatever that was.

Minho tries to reassure you that it’s okay as he dials the number for the pizza place just down the street, simultaneously shutting down all your attempts to pay as an apology. It doesn’t matter to him, he’d do anything as long as it means he gets to spend time with you. At the end of the day, it’s another memory that he’ll hold close to his heart.

“Listen,” you say, swallowing down a mouthful of pizza, the both of you seated on his couch with a half-eaten box of pizza open on the coffee table, “I know you wanted to cook and all—which, by the way, I’m still sorry—but this is so good. However I’m sure whatever you made would’ve been better.”

Minho chuckles. “Stop lying,” he wipes his hands on a napkin, “I can guarantee you that whatever I cooked wouldn’t be as good as this anyways.”

“Stop selling yourself short, Min. You’re good at everything you do.”

The words fall from your lips so easily, like it’s something you’ve convinced yourself of long ago. Minho’s never been the type to bounce around from one thing to another, always choosing to stick with it until he has it down to a science. Cooking is one of them. Jeongin can attest to all the times Minho has berated him with tasting his latest dishes, chasing him around the apartment with a spoon. The words tighten themselves around his heart.

“I’m not,” he rolls his eyes, “But nine times out of ten, grease and mozzarella cheese are gonna win. I know that for a fact.”

You laugh, and the conversation gradually diverts into a debate about the top ten best greasy foods in existence. You’re heated, half kneeling on the couch with a finger pointed at him as you plead your case for onion rings, when your eyes go past Minho’s head and settle on the shelf of games in the hallway.

“You have games?” you ask, suddenly giddy with excitement as you hurry over to inspect the selection.

Minho watches with fond eyes, collects the plates and napkins to throw away. “Yeah, most of them are Innie’s. We don’t really use them. Sometimes when we’re drunk, other times when we’re bored and decide to wager money for fun.”

You hum, not really paying attention. Monopoly, Chutes and Ladders, some decks of cards, Uno—you scan the shelf until your eyes light up at what you find hidden at the bottom.

“Min! Can we play Jenga?”

“Jenga?” Minho asks, re-entering the living room. The coffee table is clear now, and he sits between it and the couch, his back against the cushion. “Isn’t that kind of boring? We have other stuff there.”

“It’s only boring if you play it the way it’s supposed to be played.” You roll your eyes. Minho turns to you when you situate yourself on the floor beside him and only momentarily contemplates running to the bathroom when your knee knocks against his. He’s been holding it together pretty well so far, however The Sauce Incident had him ready to book it if anything had gone further.

“Well how else are we supposed to play it?” He frowns.

“We make up our own rules.”

The pieces scatter across the wood of the coffee table, clacking as you diligently begin putting them together. “This is a date, right?” You ask, stopping for a moment to turn and assess his response.

Minho stills. He genuinely forgot the grounds on which tonight had even happened in the first place. Spending time with you makes him forget everything else. And, despite his fears in the beginning, being on a date with you has felt so natural that it almost seems like you’ve done it a thousand times before.

Your eyes meet. For a moment, Minho lets himself wonder what it’d be like if he went for it right then and there. “Yeah,” he says slowly, unblinking, hoping you can see the sincerity on his face, “A date. One of the best ones I’ve ever been on, actually.”

He almost cries out in victory when your face flushes pink. “Now who’s a liar?” You ask quietly, going back to piecing together the game.

Minho has learned something new tonight: he really likes seeing you flustered.

“Why do you ask?” he decides to cut you the slack, “Or what does this being a date have to do with Jenga rules?”

He waits as you finish the stack, your tongue sticking out in concentration. You’re so cute. Minho mentally pockets that image for safe keeping.

“Sorry, okay, it’s done. But basically, if we pull out a block, we get to ask the other person a question.”

“And if the tower falls…?”

“Hmm,” you think for a moment, chewing on your bottom lip, “Oh! I know. If you lose you have to tell me why you asked me on a date.”

Minho’s stomach flips. “Okay. If you lose you have to tell me why you accepted the date.”

Something unreadable passes over your face, but it’s gone in an instant. You hold your hand out for a shake, and Minho wraps his fingers around it gently.

“Deal.”

“Why are you taking all of the middle pieces?” Minho pouts.

The two of you have gone through a couple turns by now, throwing out random questions for the better half of fifteen minutes. Favorite colors, childhood foods you wouldn’t eat, the best memory you have from high school. Minho’s learned a lot, has fallen for you a lot more. But that was always a given. It’s impossible not to when he can feel the warmth from your body where you’re seated next to him, your presence overtaking all of his senses.

“Because I’m trying to win,” you laugh, putting your freshly pulled piece at the top. Just a little crooked, too. To piss him off. “Favorite movie?”

“Ponyo. Easy. My turn.”

“Seriously? Why Ponyo?”

“One question at a time, princess.”

He means it as a joke, really. He doesn’t even realize what he’s said until after the fact, the nickname making your heart skip a beat. Minho notices, the corners of his lips tugging downwards as he suppresses a smile. He manages to flick one of the side pieces until it gives way.

“What’s one thing you regret?”

“Ooh, getting deep I see.” You laugh, taking a sip of your soda. There’s a long pause, and then, “I regret spilling my coffee on Hyunjin that day.”

Minho’s brow furrows. You…regret it? He runs through all the possible reasons in his head. Surely it can’t be because you regret becoming friends with them, friends with him, right?

“Why?” He chances.

“One question at a time, princess.” You echo, laughing at his shocked expression.

You remove the last middle piece. “On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate our first date?”

Minho’s brain is going a thousand miles a minute. “A ten. Wouldn’t trade it for the world.” He says it fast, wastes no time in moving forward to remove his own piece. He doesn’t even notice that your cheeks have gone pink again, too busy itching to ask his next question.

“Why do you regret spilling your coffee on Hyunjin?”

Minho watches you, lets his mind wander to the worst possible thing you could say in this situation, and mentally prepares to book it to the bathroom.

You take a deep breath, “I regret it because I wasn’t supposed to spill it on him. I was supposed to spill it on you.”

Wait, what?

Minho blinks. “What are you talking about?”

This is humiliating for you. A terrible thing to have to admit. Up until this moment, you’d thought that this information would follow you to your grave. You press the heel of your palms to your eyes, “This is so embarrassing,” you groan.

Minho pulls one hand away. He’s not really sure what to say, mostly because he’s confused, but, “You can tell me.”

“I had…” you start, looking up at him slowly, “A plan. With Jiwoo.” Minho nods for you to continue. “I’d seen you and Hyunjin walking through the quad a few times, and I thought that you were cute, but I didn't know how to approach you. So I did something stupid and decided that I would literally just crash into you. But I fucked it up.”

I thought that you were cute. The words echo in Minho’s ears like a bell. All this time, all those stolen glances and lingering touches, all the ways you would make hope spike in his chest that maybe you felt the same—they were real.

“So you, wait—” Minho shakes his head, “So you’re telling me that all this time…”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, Min, really. All this time.”

Minho’s never been skydiving, but he imagines that this is what it feels like. Free falling—his soul hurtling towards earth at a horrifying speed, slamming back into his body right here in his living room with a force so strong it would knock him off his feet if he wasn’t already sitting on the floor. You were interested in him first.

Wordlessly, you lean forward, pulling out a piece with practiced ease. Minho waits with bated breaths.

“Can I kiss you?”

Minho feels like he might pass out. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“You didn’t pull out a piece.”

He scrambles forward, clumsily nudging a piece on the side that ends up sending the entire tower toppling over. You smile at him, soft and sweet. “Looks like you have to pay up with an answer. You know, since you lost.”

Minho doesn’t care. “Because I like you,” he breathes out, “I asked you on a date because I like you. I like you so much, ever since I saw you that day. And, funnily enough, I’ve always wished you’d spilled that coffee on me instead, too.”

The confession feels like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He’s spent so long pining after you, laying awake at night thinking about how this would go down if he ever got the chance. He never expected for it to happen like this, much less for you to possibly feel the same.

Panic slowly starts to rise in his chest when you don’t respond. He watches as you reach an arm over, build a small tower out of a few pieces, and then knock it over. You turn to him with a small smile, “Oops, I lost too.”

Minho is so in love with you that it hurts.

“I accepted the date because I like you, Minho. I’ve just been waiting for you to ask.”

He doesn’t think twice before he’s surging forward, cupping your face with one hand and kissing you with a tenderness that has you melting into his touch.

There’s no fireworks behind his eyes, no big bang or grand display of whatever it is that happens in the movies. But there’s a warmth, it starts out small in the center of his chest and spreads throughout his entire body, lights his skin aflame and travels all the way to his fingertips. You’re like that. A gentle presence, someone who worms their way into the very essence of his being and burrows into the deepest parts of him, like it was never his to begin with. Kissing you is slow, and deep, and right. He wouldn’t want it any other way. Minho doesn’t ever want to stop.

He lets his other hand fall to your waist, pulls you closer until you’re practically straddling him with his back against the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. Minho lets out a long, drawn out groan when you tilt his head back farther, his lips parting and allowing you to lick inside of his mouth. It’s so good. So good. He can’t believe he ever lived without knowing what this felt like; lived without ever having you this close before.

After a while, Minho reluctantly pulls back, holding you by the shoulders. When he looks up, your eyes are half-lidded. You look utterly debauched, cheeks pink and lips swollen from how hard they’d been pressed against his own. “We should probably slow down.” He tries hard to convince himself, too. “Talk about it all, you know? I don’t—this isn’t a one time thing for me. I don’t want it to be. I like you. I want you to know that.” He says softly, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

You lean into his hand, smiling when he flattens his palm to let your head rest there. “You’re like, so perfect that I want to kiss you until you forget your own name.”

Minho’s ears go red, his head falling forward until it rests against your collarbone. The feeling of his breath against your skin makes you laugh and run a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck fondly.

“This is gonna be so bad now that you say stuff like that.”

“Bad? No, I think it’s cute. You’re cute.”

“Shut up,” he whines, but there’s no bite to it. Not when he can look up and press a kiss to your lips. A dream come true. The entire world in his hands, exactly where it was always meant to be.

🏠

In the morning, when Jeongin comes back home, one hand covering his eyes just in case, he calls out,

“Everyone better be dressed! Or else I’m ripping up that napkin and making a new one with No fornicating on the furniture added into the fine print.”

When he doesn’t get a response, he rounds the corner, and finds the two of you nestled into the couch. Minho’s back is pressed into the cushions, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

Jeongin huffs out a laugh, sends a quick text to Hyunjin that reads: Negative. Clothes are still on. But they’re so cute it’s almost sickening.

He snaps a picture to send to the group chat, grabs a piece of cold pizza, and retreats to his room.

Yang Jeongin Fanclub

jeongin: [Attachment: 1 image]

chan: AWWWWWWW

jiwoo: i’m gonna cry

changbin: dude is that the good pizza from down the street?

hyunjin: FINALLY

hyunjin: wait

hyunjin: does this mean i have to send back his $20?

[tags: @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @strwbrrychannie ]

#lee know x reader #first date series : minho #lee know fluff #lee know angst #skz x reader #lee know fanfic #skz fanfic #lee know fic #skz fic #lee know fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #lee know #godslino #first date series

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dandelions-143 · 29 days ago

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Dry Humping - Jeongin

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

In collaboration with @valkyriexo

Word Count: 1038k

Warnings: sexual content, intimate moments, mild adult language

No summary just smut under the cut

The bottle spun rapidly in the center of the circle, its glass surface catching the dim light of the room. You sat among your friends, a group of twenty-somethings who had decided that a game of "Seven Minutes in Heaven" was the perfect way to spice up their evening. The air was thick with anticipation and the lingering scent of alcohol, which had lowered inhibitions just enough to make this juvenile game seem thrilling.

You pulled your soft cashmere sweater tighter around your shoulders, feeling a shiver that wasn't entirely due to the autumn chill seeping through the walls. Your eyes were fixed on the bottle as it began to slow, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure everyone could hear it. The room buzzed with nervous energy, punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful jabs.

As the bottle's momentum waned, time seemed to stretch. You held your breath, your gaze darting between the bottle and the faces around the circle. When it finally came to a stop, your cheeks blazed with heat. The bottle was pointing directly at Jeongin, your long-time crush. He sat across from you, his dark eyes wide with surprise, a shy smile playing at the corners of his lips. The group erupted into a cacophony of cheers and wolf whistles, their excitement palpable as they urged you both towards the closet. Your legs felt like jelly as you stood, catching Jeongin's nervous glance as he rose to join you.

Your history with Jeongin flashed through your mind as you made your way to the closet. There had been countless moments of playful banter, his teasing always managing to make your heart skip a beat. You remembered the way his fingers had once brushed against your hair, sending electricity through your body. But physical contact had been rare, both of you seemingly too shy to bridge that gap. Now, as you followed him down the hallway, your eyes traced the broad expanse of his back, noting how his shirt clung to his shoulders.

The closet door closed behind you with a soft click, plunging you into a world of shadows and whispers. The small space was filled with the scent of leather and wool from the coats hanging around you, mixed with the faint cologne you recognized as Jeongin's. Your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the slats in the door, allowing you to make out Jeongin's features. His eyes met yours, a swirl of emotions evident in their depths - curiosity, nervousness, and something that made your breath catch in your throat.

"So, seven minutes," Jeongin murmured, his voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heart. The words hung in the air between you, laden with possibility.

You nodded, unconsciously licking your lips as you searched for words. "Yeah... um, we don't have to do anything," you managed to say, your fingers nervously tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The action drew Jeongin's gaze, and you watched as his eyes followed the movement of your hand.

Jeongin took a step closer, closing the already small distance between you. The heat from his body seemed to envelop you, making the tiny closet feel even more intimate. "But what if I want to do something?" he asked, his voice low and husky. The question caught you off guard, your eyes instinctively dropping to his lips before meeting his gaze once more.

"Like what?" you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. Jeongin's hand reached out, his fingers ghosting along your cheek in a feather-light caress that sent shivers down your spine. "Maybe start with this," he whispered, leaning in closer until you could feel his breath on your lips.

The first touch of his lips against yours was electric. Soft and tentative at first, the kiss quickly deepened as years of pent-up longing poured out. Jeongin's hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as your arms wound around his neck. The world outside the closet faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips moving against yours, his tongue gently exploring your mouth.

Your body melted into his embrace, your back arching to press closer as the kiss intensified. Jeongin's hands roamed your back, tracing the curve of your spine through your sweater. The heat between you grew, and you found yourselves sinking to the floor, your breathing coming in short, heated gasps.

Jeongin's hands grew bolder, squeezing your hips and trailing down to cup your ass as he pulled you on top of him. The new position allowed you to feel every inch of his body pressed against yours, including the unmistakable hardness of his arousal. A soft gasp escaped your lips as he ground his hips upward, creating a delicious friction that sent sparks of pleasure through your body.

Your fingers tangled in Jeongin's hair, tugging gently as you returned his movements, grinding down against him. The thin layers of clothing between you did little to mask the heat and desire building between your bodies. You could feel yourself growing wetter with each roll of your hips, your sweatpants doing little to hide your arousal.

With a gentle but firm movement, Jeongin flipped your positions, pressing you into the carpeted floor of the closet. His weight on top of you was intoxicating, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your lips met again in a hungry kiss, muffling the soft moans that escaped both of you as you continued to move against each other.

The friction of Jeongin's hard length pressing against your core through your clothes was maddening. Each thrust of his hips sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building a familiar tension in the pit of your stomach. It was a sensation you had only ever experienced alone, touching yourself to thoughts of him. But now, with Jeongin's body moving against yours, his breath hot on your neck as he whispered your name, the intensity was overwhelming.

You could feel yourself getting close, your movements becoming more frantic as you chased your release. Jeongin seemed to sense it too, his hips moving faster, more deliberately against you. "Y/n, I'm going to... oh god," he moaned into your neck, his voice strained with need.

His words pushed you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of intense pleasure. Your body trembled beneath him, your fingers digging into his back as you held him close. Jeongin followed shortly after, his hips bucking erratically as he found his own release. You both moaned quietly, lost in the shared moment of ecstasy.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, Jeongin pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reverent. The sound of your heavy breathing filled the small space, mingling with the muffled noises of the party outside. You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still intertwined.

The spell was broken by the sudden click of the door opening, flooding the closet with bright light from the hallway. You both looked up, startled, to see your friends' amused and knowing faces peering in. "Time's up!" someone called out, eliciting a chorus of giggles and whistles from the group. Blushing furiously but unable to contain your smiles, you and Jeongin disentangled yourselves and stood, straightening your clothes before stepping back into the party, your hands brushing against each other's in a silent promise of more to come.

Tags: blogs in blue will not allow me to tag you

@rylea08 @syedazarintasnim @cashtonsbetch @pasaatimonarkin @tzeweiii05 @sincerely-sun @moonchild9350 @athforskz @babigriin @seunmong-in @cookiesandcreammy @rockstarkkami @bangchans-angel @salemluvsmusic @seungmincenteric @kpflyn @iovecb97 @juskz @sadrosessing @fawnpeaks @galaxy4489 @chuuyaobsessed @tirena1 @tsunderelino @kissesmellow21 @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @nightmarenyxx @simpforleeknaur @ririwhiskers @satosugu4l @mihoonz @hpnsfwaddict @redlightsrachaaa @mintymintmint251 @velvetmoonlght @minniesverse @everythingboutkpop @yaorzu-blog

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faunandfloraas · 15 days ago

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Birth date analysis // October 25 - The Day Of Substantive Form

The Day Of Substantive Form

Those born on October 25 must give form to their ideas. Although they can be extremely imaginative people, their dreams and visions mean nothing to them unless they can be substantiated in physical reality. Those born on this day generally present a solid, earthly exterior to the world and, although often quiet, will give reassuring support to their families and friends. They serve as a rock on which their colleagues, students or employees can depend without fear of being let down.

More highly evolved October 25 people are not satisfied with only developing their physical self but want to universalize their substantive feelings for form and structure. The great opportunity and challenge for all October 25 people is to give shape to their fantasy and to translate their innate physicality into productive work. Consequently, they should take an interest in art, politics, literature, city planning, ecology or a host of other areas in which their solid, substantial natures can produce tangible results. Ultimately, however, they may progress still further, expressing a truly original creativity that reaches into more abstract or theoretical areas as well. All along the way they must beware of power urges getting out of control and being diverted into destructive or immoral activities.

October 25 people hate chaos and like to be in control of things. They may be very intolerant of those whom they see as flaky, abstruse or vague, and can be quite severe with such people. They frequently will fight to overcome their own uncertainties in their twenties, ruthlessly hanging in there no matter what and hammering away at themselves until they have built a rock-solid personality. In doing so. however, they may have to cut away a certain amount of sensitivity. They will have to beware of being too critical of those they perceive as less mature than they.

A great challenge for October 25 people is not to get stuck, either at the most basic physical manifestation of their personalities or at any further step in their spiritual evolution. Habit, repetition, comfort and financial security will tempt them to quit and rest at an acceptable level, giving in to the desire to luxuriate or vegetate and forsaking their ideals and goals. Another danger is that when young they will reach a high level of achievement in the physical realm and not know what to do with themselves when age comes on and this power starts slipping away. It is precisely here that the opportunity exists to graduate to a higher plane, but they will often struggle for some years before doing so. October 25 people are tremendously self-sufficient, but must learn to ask for help when needed and give others a chance to assume the dominant role from time to time.

Strengths:

Physical

Substantial

Dependable

Weaknesses:

Overbearing

Complacent

Intolerant

#lol once again these birthday date things are funny with the accuracy #lee know #lee minho #skz #skz edit #stray kids #stray kids edit #bystay #linosource #createskz #gagwanzsource #jesskz #birth date series #also hes in sydney and its midnight here so its his birthday i can post at midnight >:)#happy bday to mr know. i hope he has a nice friday in syd 💗

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five-star-stay · 5 months ago

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Lmao han's sheepish yet fond face as he indulges lee know and changes his answer to saying they were fated to be<33

#Minho's expression saying it all like #'you wanna repeat that?'#'i thought u were supposed to be a romantic lyricist smh'#'be so fr'#'i can't believe you've done this'#'no more cheesecakes for you'#'you're paying for the next 10 cafe dates'#'didn't u insist on calling us soulmates? all men do is lie'#han jisung #lee know #stray kids #skz #han #minsung #2 kids show #skz thoughts

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kaystrids · 2 years ago

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Stray Kids when asked "Would you fuck a clone of yourself?"

bonus chan:

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createdbytragedy · 8 months ago

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LOVE CHANGES

A/N: This is like the continuation of my previous post Love and So... There's this girl. But it can be read without reading them too. Though I'd like you to check it out and tell me how I do.

Pairing: Lee Minho x reader

Genre: Fluff, crack

Warning: Reader is a well known fashion designer, Han being extremely dramatic,

Synopsis: Its been 6 months since you and Minho dated which means 6 months since Minho has been acting 'suspicious'

It has been too long. Too long since Minho started acting really, really suspicious.

Han occasionally peeked at Minho who sat across from him at the dance studio, smiling at his phone.

Why is he smiling?

Minho had been acting so, so, so weird lately. And Jisung had noticed it since the beginning. He was acting really suspicious.

How?

Well, since when did Minho start to randomly smile at his phone while texting? Since when did he start to wear bracelets? That too, that had a sparkly sun in it. It looked like something he would wear but when Han asked if he could burrow it, he was met with a stern glare and a cold 'no'.

Minho's been too excited to go home these days too. Like, he had something better to do than just lay on his bed and dream about his cats. Whenever the gang decides to eat a takeout and just go home together, Minho would deny and say he had to go home now.

Go home to do what?!

Now, Jisung watched as Minho once again smiled at his phone then started typing. He stood up from his seat and strided towards Minho.

"Who are you texting?" Minho immediately pulled the phone on his chest, like hiding it from him.

"No one. " He answered, the smile he saw just now long gone and he had this serious poker resting bitch face.

"You were smiling." Han stated, eying him suspiciously. Minho raised his brow at his friend's odd behaviour.

"I was?"

"Yes, you were. "

A silence followed after with both party in different reason. Han looked at Minho like he was a puzzle he was trying to solve and Minho looked at Han like he just lost his marbles.

"What's up with you?" Minho asked, trying to fake a laugh to lighten the awkward situation.

Jisung scoffed," What's wrong with me? No. What's wrong with you? "

His tone raised and attracted the attention of the other hyung line present in the room. They gave each other a knowing look and continued minding their own business while keeping their ears wide open.

"You're acting weird. " Han told him.

"How?"

"You're smiling randomly at your phone and you never wear bracelets especially the ones with sparkly sun draped around it!" He looked so serious it almost looked like a couple bickering.

"Can I not just smile at my phone and change my interest?" Minho asked back, getting up to meet Han's eyes. He found all these so ridiculous and amusing.

"No," Jisung shook his head ," you can't. Not you. "

"What are you trying to imply by that, hm?"

"That YOU ARE CHEATING ON ME WITH A REALLY PRETTY WOMAN!!" He screamed, sobbing onto the floor.

Minho's eyes widened at the accusations or rather the fact as all his members looked at them. Eyes wide, jaw dropped. Hyunjin let out a dramatic gasp and he could see Seungmin smirk from the corner of his eyes.

"Lee know, you are what?" Hyunjin asked, clenching his heart. Minho rolled his eyes but shot them wide open when even his hyung joined.

"You're cheating on Hannie with a woman?" Bang Chan asked, eyes wide.

"Why are you emphasizing the woman so much?"

"That means you are dating a woman!!" Felix screeched, pointing an accusing finger to Minho.

And before he knew it, all his members had surrounded him, sitting in a circle and asking him numerous questions.

"Who's the girl? Come on, tell us!" Changbin pleaded, taking Minho's arm and squeezing it like a little girl.

"Is she an idol? Is she pretty? Wait, do we know her?" Felix seemed just as excited as a teenage girl.

"You cheater!" Han scoffed, "is she prettier than me?"

"I can't really imagine you dating a girl or doing anything romantic." Jeongin stated, chuckling dryly. Seungmin agreed, scrunching up his nose while looking at Minho.

"Aish! You guys are so annoying!! Why are you so interested in my love life?! "Minho groaned, shaking Felix and Changbin off his arms.

"Then just tell us her name and her Instagram id and we'll ask her on our own. " Hyunjin suggests, rolling his eyes like it was an obvious thing.

Tch, as if.

"No way in hell you're getting anything of her, Hyunjin. " Minho simply stated.

"Why not??!! Come on....... Show us a picture? Is it true? Did she get you this bracelet?" Felix asked, touching the silver metal wrapped around his wrist. Minho extracted his hand quickly like Felix had a disease or something.

"I'd rather not hear it, to be honest." Seungmin muttered, like anyone was stopping him from walking out the wide open door. But he stayed seated, next to Jeongin.

"Okay, okay, guys, I think you should leave him alone." Bang Chan chimes. A few groans left their mouths. Mostly changbin, Felix and Hyunjin.

"Oh, come one. Don't be such a party pooper. Don't you wanna know who got Minho hyung's heart?" Changbin said, making a heart in his fingers and placing it in front of Minho's chest.

"If you just tell me who the girl is, I'll forgive you. " Jisung added. Minho rolled his eyes.

"I actually do want to know, though." Bang Chan agreed. Minho could only groan now as his only saviour gave him an apologetic yet teasing grin. He let out a sigh of defeat and looked around at his members who looked back at him with eagerness.

"Fine. " He groaned, " I am dating a girl. "

A teasing whistle echoed and Minho felt someone nudging his shoulder. Probably Felix. He didn't care to look. They continued to stare at him like curious kittens so he continued.

"Who is it?"

"(y/n). (Y/n) (L/n)." Minho replied simply.

"Wait, you mean the designer (y/n)?" Hyunjin asked, eyes wide. Minho simply nodded,"are you kidding me?! I'm wearing her autumn collection shirt right now!" He shrieks, pulling his shirt to show everyone the white sweatshirt he wore.

"Seriously?! You're dating her?! For how long?" Changbin asked.

"It's been 6 months, I think. " Minho said, calculating in his mind.

"You've been dating for 6 months and never mentioned her to us?!" Jisung asked, too dramatically for Minho's liking.

"I did mention her all the time. Remember the friend I went to dinner with? The park? The museum?" He rolled his eyes, trying to remind Jisung of the hints he dropped.

"You just said it was a friend . You never mentioned the friend's gender. " Jisung said defensively. Minho rolled his eyes for like the 10th time tonight.

"I can't believe (y/n) would date someone like you. " Seungmin commented, earning a glare from Minho.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. Just that, she's so...... Cheerful and loud, in a good way of course. And you're just gloomy and boring. " Seungmin nonchalantly added like it was a fact everyone knew. Minho gave him a somewhat offensive side eye.

"Yeah. I've seen her interviews, she's really cute and lively. Like a sunshine!" Felix added, which sparked a lightbulb above Jisung's head.

"Sunshine?! Is that why you have a sunshine bracelet?! Is it a couple's one? Oh my god!!" Jisung's exaggeration made a few laughs and a few rolled their eyes," which one does she have?! A star?! A moon?!"

"A moon. " Minho replied.

"Do you have a picture together?" Jeongin asked, ignoring the shocked Jisung beside him.

"I think so. " Minho said, unlocking his phone to search for a picture of both of you.

"Hate to chime in but are we allowed to date right now?" Seungmin cut in. All of them looked at him with a glare that said 'not now'. But he just shrugged.

"The dating ban is actually lifted for us. " Chan started," but the fan's reaction may not be very pleasant. Plus, she has her own fans. I heard they are quite protective."

"Who knows you might end up bald and jobless like the last guy she had dating scandal with" Seungmin added, snickering like it was the funniest joke he had ever heard.

"Shut up now Seungmin," Hyunjin said, nudging him by the shoulder," Hyung, tell us about her more. "

"Is she the reason you started drinking coffee too?" Jisung once again questioned, earning a nod from Minho.

"I think so," Minho recalled," we actually met at a coffee shop. " "So, love at first sight?" Felix asked, making a heart sign. Minho shook his head and looked straight ahead. Lost in thought. "It wasn't exactly love at first sight but something similar. The first time we spoke, I felt it. An ache, like a little electric burn. I felt my life change. " "Fate, huh. 'Cause what the heck were you doing in a coffee shop if you don't drink one?" Changbin questioned.

"I don't know. I just felt like I had to go there. Something was so alluring. " "Cringe. " Jeongin snarked. "You seem happier, though," Seungmin stated, others nodded along with him," In the last 6 months, you really changed. "

"Yeah, I haven't gotten any threats to be put in the air fryer in a while. " Hyunjin remarked, making the others laugh including Minho. "I can do that now if you want, Hyunjin. " "No, I'm good, actually." "Is no one gonna come to the fact that my husband has been cheating on me for the last 6 months?" Jisung interject. "Well, (Y/n) is actually very similar to you, Hannie. She is, in fact, just like you. She stuffs her face with food and she fall asleep anywhere. She sucks at cooking too. " Minho mentioned. "Are you saying she has all my bad qualities?" "Bad? No way, she's literally perfect. Those are cute qualities. You should've seen your faces when you're passes out on the chair." "It's to die for." Changbin added.

"So, you're not leaving me?" Jisung asked, pouting. "As long as we're in the same group, I'll have to be with you even if I don't wan to. " "So I'm still your baby?" "You were never my baby!"

"Stop it, you guys! It's disgusting," Jeongin coughed," But, we'd like to meet (y/n). " "Yeah, call her here! " Felix exclaimed after he was done listening to all of them. "Yeah, I want her autograph!" Hyunjin added earning some side eyes from others ," what? like you don't have all her summer collection too, Seungmin" "What? shut up!" Seungmin blushed having his secret revealed. "I think I'll ask her. " Minho said. "She really did changed you, huh Minho?" Bang Chan giggled, seeing Minho's cheeks turn red. "OOOOOOOOOOhhhhhhhhhhh~~~~~," Changbin sang," I see someone is blushing, huh~~~~"

The other members upon hearing that, looked at their Hyung with the same teasing smirk and started to tease him. "Minho hyung seemed a lot happier, right?" Jisung said, watching others tease Minho. "Yeah. I can't wait to meet (y/n). She must be so special. " Bang Chan agreed. "I still didn't agreed to sharing him, though. " "WhAT?"