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hyunjzone · 7 months

Text

✰ i’ll prove it!

genre! fluff, maybe a littleeee angsty, married couple sorta au, sfw

word count! 1.9k (1,938)

pairing! felix x fem!reader

tags! reader is hinted at being neurodivergent (evil cackle), felix comforts reader, felix and reader are married, could be suggestive if you squint, proofread this time, nicknames like “love” and “baby,” and “lix” in reference to felix, mentions of insecurities (for reader), reader has dimples (are u happy now anon 😔)

summary! reader is feeling insecure and having a bad day, so felix jumps in to help out! <3

a/n! i read an absolutely gut wrenching felix fic the other day and i just had to write a fic with felix in it after 😭 you can read the story here! i recommend it actually it’s so well written omg

the bond between you and felix had been forged in the calmer waters of childhood. you guys clicked that moment you met, like the universe laid it all out for you both in that exact second, like it went all as planned. growing up side by side, you had navigated the labyrinth known as life together and found companionship with each other over these years. felix was a sense of home to you, and he would never drag you into places you wouldn’t want to be in. you two grew up being inseparable; you guys could go down any path with no worry of how bumpy the road would be cause you were powerful together. he joked often with you that there is no duo of friends better than you two, but you would argue it wasn’t a joke. felix was your best friend; you were his, vice versa. the feeling of having someone at your back made you feel invincible, even though you’ve always felt like an outsider. you two knew who the other was before themselves, and you could feel the connection between the two of you even when you weren’t touching. you kind of knew what it was like to be different, to be alone and not getting anyone else. things were different for you because you weren’t normal. not to anyone else. maybe that was all that you wanted, to blend in, but felix always says there’s uniqueness in everyone and you just got an abundance of it. he tells you you’re lucky to not be the same person as another, which has truth to it, but you sometimes don’t really get what he means either. you’re so alike yet so different at the same time. you can relate to each other on many levels yet have these differences that won’t really ever meet with one another.

but felix adores you. as the years passed and you both ventured further into the maze of life, your bond with felix only grew stronger. he’s like your rock, your constant companion, and the one person who truly understands you the best. there’s an unspoken connection between you, a cosmic thread that bound your souls together. he has this uncanny ability to sense when you feel down. with a simple glance, he can tell if something was bothering you, and he won’t rest until he has chased away your troubles. that brunet would rather fight a man than leave you in a place you hate, or make you food he knows you don’t like, or willingly let you have a bad day. he really adores you, and he’ll say it just so you know.

and there was a day, one when you were younger, many years ago; in the times when people snickered at you and you still felt bad when you looked at yourself, when felix would come over with notes and a laptop to study with you, then chat after those long working intervals, when you’d tell him stories of what your history teacher said, when you were in school. so many years of being friends came to an end, but not as in he’d leave you— no, he’d rather die than do that. when he said he liked you, and you didn’t quite understand whether he meant platonically or romantically, and he had to explain to you in detail that he’d loved you for a while now, and after a few years of just dreaming of being able to hold you he simply couldn’t hold it in anymore and had to tell you then that he liked— no, loved you. and you had to take a long moment to comprehend everything he said, understand that it was real and he’s not pranking you (though initially, you figured he lost a bet and had to say all of that as punishment or something), and finally tell him that you felt like you liked him too. you tell him you love him frequently, now. he always says he loves you more, and for a while, you’d argue that that wasn’t true, but each time after you said that he’d fall into this unbreakable trance and say how much he loved you, rambling on til he started repeating things, then he’d end for the day. there was new stuff he could appreciate you for everyday. how he found all of those things to pick out and love at, you don’t know, but he still does all of that to this day even after you’re married.

though, no matter how many times he tells you all those things, there are bad days. bad days where the words seem to choke you up and you can barely speak, bad days when you cry and try to stop yourself from saying anything else, bad days where your emotions overwhelm you and you don’t want to be around anyone, but he’s always here for you. he never leaves. he helps you through them, holds you whenever you need him, makes sure you’re eating properly every night. felix makes sure you know that he’s there for you, that he understands. he gets it. you know he’ll never leave you, not now nor ever. he’s always there with you, wielding a knowing smile on his freckled face while he does all that he can to help you feel better and safe in his arms. he heals your heart, makes all your aches leave like no other.

now was one of those days. like the ones you felt back in highschool, you looked at yourself with wonder. not a happy or curious wonder, a wonder that made you feel like crying, you thought you got so unlucky to get this stupid body that probably wasn’t even pretty enough for felix. you’re so lucky he even married you.

“hate this stupid…” you trail off, talking to yourself as you look in the mirror and pout with both anger and sadness. “it’s just a stupid body. nothing special about it, nothing special at all. why am i so… ugly?” you cross your arms over your chest and frown. you felt like disappearing off the face of the earth.

you watched yourself in disappointment, wondering why you weren’t satisfied with what you looked like now. it was just a bad day, where you felt sad. you didn’t always think you were ugly, but now that you’ve thought about this, you don’t even want to show yourself to felix. you lock the door and stand in front of the mirror, watching your chest rise and fall ever so slightly while you breathe with all sorts of negative emotion.

some time passes. why weren’t you out of the bathroom yet? felix thinks to himself and concludes something’s gotta be wrong. fifteen minutes straight in the bathroom, in complete silence? not normal.

he knocks on the door gently, a pause, then he knocks one more time.

“hey, lovely, are you doing alright?” he calls out to you. lovely wasn’t exactly what you were feeling now.

“i’m okay,” you give an obvious lie without any effort to try and even sound happy.

“can i come in?” he tries again. felix is never one to admit defeat when it comes to proving you’re beautiful, so maybe he can be of help.

“sure,” you reply weakly. “come in.”

you unlock the door. gently creaking the door open, his eyes look through a small crack at first. then he slowly opens up the door completely and looks at you. he looks you up and down several times to see nothing wrong in his eyes, physically.

“what’s up?” he asks with an inviting grin on his face, a little one, coaxing you to open up to him without words. he stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist softly, all around your tummy. your arms remain crossed and you look sad to him, but he’s not prying just yet.

“i don’t feel pretty today.”

“no? why not, baby?” he asks with a warm tone, pressing an innocent kiss to the side of your head.

“i don’t look pretty,” you mutter out.

“i don’t think so,” he says playfully, resting his head lightly on top of yours for just a moment to try and lighten the mood with you. “i think you’re as beautiful as you can get. like always. i think you’re the prettiest girl on the planet.”

“i don’t feel like it,” you insist with eyebrows furrowed just barely in a face of sadness. felix lifts his head and gently sways you side to side.

“well,” he starts, “do you need me to convince you? cause i can tell you all about how perfect you are, and how lovely your body is, and how awesome i think you are.” he chuckles softly behind you. “should i?”

you crack a smile. it was practically involuntary, his smile and his laughter, its all too contagious. “yeah, please.”

he pulls you closer. “alright, i will.” he leans forward, and plants his lips against your cheek. it tickles and makes you giggle and laugh quietly, and he continues to pepper kisses to your cheeks. “well, let’s see…”

he places his hand over your stomach. “you tend to… complain about how you don’t like your stomach. i think it’s one of your cutest features.”

his hands slide to your sides.

“this waist is perfect for me. i love to hold it when i hug you, just to make you feel better.” he grins when he sees you fighting back a smile, too.

felix moves his hands to your shoulders. “i love these, too. i live to see them when you wear nice dresses. i like to massage them for you.”

now you’re smiling warmly again. felix wraps his arms all around you again, just under your chest. “these are nice, too,” he jokes with you, wiggling his eyebrows, trying to make you laugh. you giggle at his little antics and he’s satisfied, lifting a hand to caress your hair. “your hair’s smooth, and it always smells nice, like your shampoo.”

“your legs,” he whispers, “are perfect as they are. there’s nothing wrong with them at all. they look shiny when you come out of the shower.”

“do they?”

“mhm.”

he looks at you in the mirror and pinches your cheeks, not harshly. “these cheeks, i love their dimples. i like when you smile and they show.” just as he says that, you smile a big smile, one that shows those little dimples he speaks of.

“and last but not least… i love your butt.”

you burst into laughter and he smiles just as big, watching you proudly.

“see, love? you’re so amazing, and pretty, and i love when you’re back to your normal self. don’t ever think you’re ugly again, okay? i love every part of you.”

you nod and stand upright again. he turned around your entire perspective. felix completely shooed away all of your present insecurities.

“thanks, lix.”

“you’re welcome, love. make sure to tell yourself you’re beautiful today, too, okay?”

you nod. “i’m… beautiful.”

“attagirl.” he ruffles your hair with playfulness and walks out of the bathroom, leaving you to have any alone time to yourself afterwards. you smile at yourself again in the mirror.

“you weren’t lying, right?” you call out.

“are you not convinced enough?!” he shouts back playfully.

“no, i’m convinced, i swear!—“

“imma get you!”

felix runs back into the bathroom to hug you again, tight and loving as he does so. he lifts you up into his arms with some struggle, then finally gets you stable in his embrace. he marches out of the bathroom with you. “i’ll prove to you i’m not lying!”

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hyunjzone · 7 months

Text

✰ melting

genre! fluff, sfw.

word count! 2.6k (2,617)

pairing! jisung x fem!reader

tags! sort of a friends to lovers trope, a little bit suggestive but not anything much, jisung and reader are close friends. not proofread again smh

summary! you and jisung try baking together, a little friendly activity with just you two; tension rises. do friends really do these things?

a/n! i am literally going crazy over jisung rn oh my gosh

“jisung!” you shout, staring at the ceiling, not taking your eyes off of it for several long seconds before your friend calls back to you. in his room, taking what he said was an important phone call.

“what?”

“we have a problem!”

“give me a sec,” he shouts back. jisung quickly wraps up his own business before he rushes back into the kitchen. an oven that was still warm, you with an apron on, standing by the counter; you guys were making cupcakes as a fun activity. jisung was helping you, though you both weren’t exactly too good in the kitchen. he’d left for not very long, just a few minutes, and he comes back to see you just as you were when he left. there wasn’t much wrong with the setting. not that he could tell. his mittens— ones for the kitchen— on that same counter, his apron was left on, the cupcakes had barely gotten out as he received that call. what was the problem?

you could practically hear the gears turning in jisung's brain as he tried to think of what could possibly be wrong in this setting. he looks down at his phone, then back at you. the guy shoves it in his back pocket, proceeding to step closer to you by the stove.

“what’s wrong?”

“well, y’know, i was trying to frost the cupcakes.”

“so?”

“do you have a ladder somewhere?”

he gives you a puzzled expression, left eyebrow slightly lifted higher than the other in a face of confusion. “why would you need a ladder now?”

“well,” you start, “if you just look up…”

you point up and you both simultaneously lift your heads, necks at a rather uncomfortable angle. his eyes widen and he looks back at you, shaking his head to get some form of recollection of his own thoughts.

“why is there frosting on the ceiling? no, how is there frosting on the ceiling?!”

“i don’t even know! you know i’m not good in the kitchen!” you retort.

“but i left you alone for barely five minutes?!”

“just, i don’t know, okay?”

he lets out a sigh and then chuckles to himself; chuckles evolve into laughter. what’s he giggling about?

“what’s so funny?” you ask with a suspicion that he’s laughing at you.

“i just didn’t know that anyone could even do that. but i guess with you, you can do anything. even get frosting on the ceiling.”

“loser,” you say back in a— you’ll admit— lame way to ignore his teasing remarks. “i don’t know how to deal with that. so i’m just gonna keep frosting these cupcakes.”

“i should do it,” he suggested. “i don’t want more frosting on my—“

“nope,” you start to cut him off, grabbing the piping bag slightly tighter in your hand. “my job.”

he gives you a stern look, one that says just why, in a jisung way. now his lips are formed into a slight pout, eyebrows furrowed in that little feeling of annoyance within him. why you wouldn’t just lend him the task, he couldn’t comprehend. the urge to snatch it out of your hands when you least expect just to throw you off was getting stronger, but that might make things messier. so instead, he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and tries again. “i can take over,” he smiles.

“no,” you reply, voice firm yet gentle. “i can do it myself.” your tongue stuck out just barely from your lips in an expression of focus in the moment, you were going to ice those cupcakes and do it without jisung’s help. why? just to prove you’re more responsible in the kitchen than what showed when he was gone.

that little face of yours when you felt so set on proving you can do something so simple gave jisung’s heart a little flutter, a strange feeling, one he wasn’t quite familiar with. it wasn’t too bad, but he felt himself fighting back a smile and another giggle. maybe it was due to the fact that he thought you were cute, being so committed to the task, or maybe cause he enjoyed the way you reacted when you got it done; letting out an almost inaudible sigh of relief and then moving to the next ‘til you got the dozen finished.

“are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. you nod vigorously, still smiling slightly. he let out a playful scoff and nudged your shoulder, though careful not to mess up your workflow.

“fine. but you should know you have frosting on your face.”

“frosting? on my face?” you pat down your face, everywhere you think of. “how would frosting even get there?”

“i don’t know. i was just joking.”

the guy winces when you punch at his shoulder— not harshly, rather playfully— and puts on a display of fake shock. he grabs his shoulder, rubbing it gently, whining softly. “you wounded me. that’s not what friends do.”

“don’t distract me, friend,” you say back.

he grins and watches you for a moment while you finish up. the guy has this endearing gaze when he looks at you, and he doesn’t realize it until you look back at him after setting down the piping bag and blink those eyes. he realizes he’d been sort of staring.

but man, he can’t help it. you look prettier than usual. but you were just a friend. just a wonderful, amazing, beautiful, awesome friend of his. that he loves dearly. that he wants to purposefully dab that vanilla frosting onto your nose and your cheeks and your lips just to kiss it off.

what?

“no, nevermind. i can’t do that…”

“whatcha thinking so hard about, weirdo?”

“huh?”

“you said a little something just now.”

“huh? sorry, i zoned out.” he shakes his head and looks to the cupcakes once again. you’d done a good job and now he needed to decorate them a bit. that bottle of colorful sprinkles could finally be put to use; rainbow colors, sprinkled by yours truly, jisung. jisung thinks about how crazy he is. well, he can’t deny that at some points in your friendship he considered the idea of taking it beyond just the idea of friends, but he thought he was crazy then; he still thinks he’s crazy now. only cause you’re so out of reach— right there but still just too far.

a sigh.

“was that a workout for you?” you comment on his reaction to something you can’t determine. why’d he just sigh? well, you couldn’t know. you can’t read minds, but you can sure read jisung. his face has that hint of pink and when he looks all focused on that for a reason you can’t determine, something’s on his mind— but what?

“what are you talking about?” he says back with a confused tone yet again.

“you let out a sigh like it was so hard.”

“shut up, dude.”

giggles fill the air, all your own. you’re enjoying the feeling of teasing him and something inside jisung’s gut feels happy too, but he cant pin the reason why down, not now. your laughing, it eventually comes to a stop. jisung smiles sweetly at you, like those cupcakes you were going to eat. he also did his job well, they were sprinkled nicely.

“teamwork!” he exclaims. “we did it!”

“we did it,” you replied back. “and i’m hungry!”

you reach to the roll of tissues in his kitchen and break off two, one for each of you. jisung picks a cupcake for himself, and gives you the one you told him you wanted. “just for you,” he says.

you thank him and he starts eating his cupcake as he watches you, admiring your little smile. you were always so sweet. so sweet and gentle, so kind— maybe he really does love you.

though he is afraid, afraid to mess things up and afraid to listen to his gut feeling that was telling him he likes you because maybe it’s really saying something else. he must be all wrong. all wrong. it doesn’t feel like that, though, because when you take that slow bite of your cupcake and that very tip of frosting dabs itself just barely, to the end of your nose, he feels like making a move. he stares at it for a second before deciding not to. he couldn’t, it’s stupid. the feeling will be gone by tomorrow.

what if it doesn’t?

“you have frosting. on your face.”

“nice try,” you mutter back after swallowing that bite of the cupcake.

“no, really.” jisung’s voice isn’t so playful, it’s more genuine, honest, and laced with something else you cannot decipher. he reaches his hand in, swooping the speck of vanilla from your face on his fingertips. you feel a little surprised that this time he was serious, and feel around your face again.

“is there more?”

“no,” he scoffs, “that was it.” he gives you a smirk and glances to his napkin, and suddenly he doesn’t feel like wiping this off his hands.

silence.

“huh?” you asked yourself softly, a whisper. you weren’t expecting the gesture and it made your heart beat faster.

a smile spreads on his face, one that makes you want to see it more. the smile is just so beautiful to you, well, he really hopes that it does. he licks at his middle finger another time.

“it didn’t lose its flavor. maybe cause you’re sweet too.”

“why would you do that?” you ask, not cause you’re upset or confused— actually, confused, yes— but out of sheer curiosity. jisung chuckles and shrugs, then moves to clean his finger off on the napkin. “i dunno,” he replies, honestly. “i just wanted to.”

a moment passes between the two of you, filled with silence and thoughts and feelings. jisung knows that this is dangerous territory, where you two could become all kinds of complicated; but he doesn’t feel ready to give it up. now he’s struck with the realization that he’s been running away from himself, from feelings that he’s trying to ignore, and yet, they still exist. you’d been doing the same.

oh, but life is good as best friends, would anything further be as great? would it become awkward, silent between you? neither of you are quite sure. and neither of you can ignore it: the tension rising and the thoughts sparking everywhere. he’s scared of everything coming undone, and you’re scared of becoming attached.

“hey,” you break the silence with a quiet voice. he turns to you quickly to respond, then stops when you raise a finger to his lips. “you know stuff like that isn’t what friends do. so why’d you do it?”

his head tilts. “do what?”

“do… that thing. with the frosting.”

“what’s wrong with it?” your friend laughs quietly. “it’s innocent, only a little affection.”

“but,” you start again, “it’s embarrassing.”

“no, it’s not,” he tells you firmly, “it’s just us. y’know? it’s fine when it’s me and you, right?”

your face feels like it’s warming up from embarrassment. this guy is unbelievable. “yeah, i know, but it’s different since we’re…” you wave your hand in the air as you search for the right word. “just, you know what i mean.”

jisung nods and hums, he does know. you don’t need to say anything; because there really is no words for what he feels for you. not much that can exactly describe that feeling that he can’t get over, he’s pretty sure of that. maybe he should just forget about it, pretend it never happened and pretend he doesn’t have feelings for you. it wouldn’t last long anyway, but it could make things a lot easier for everyone around him.

he’s in love with you.

sounds fall into silence between the two of you. neither of you know what to say anymore. or maybe you both do know what to say but you both won’t say it, either. and neither of you knew that the feeling of kissing the other was mutual.

the feeling of sharing an experience like that with you was driving him crazy, but he doesnt show that. he’s imagining it, how your lips would feel. and the taste, oh god, he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t a little turned on, okay, just a little. yeah, that’s it.

“jesus christ, jisung, stop daydreaming and finish eating your cupcake already,” you say— just to mess with him— and you hear a small chuckle leave his mouth. he shakes his head a little and mumbles out an apology. but, it didn’t sound like it mattered, he was smiling even more than before and that’s enough for you.

after a few bites you finally tell him you’ve finished your cupcake, you’re gonna go home now. his eyes turn to you, almost begging you not to go, though he nods in agreement. perhaps it was a crucial moment, one where he could say all that he wanted to, but he’d rather keep his mouth shut for longer. he walks you to the door after he gave you half of the batch to keep.

“thank you,” he whispers.

“for what?”

“this,” he explains, “this day, all of it. you were right. the cupcakes were great, baking them is fun. i liked watching you eat them. i liked eating them myself. it was fun. it was so fun.”

your cheeks grow warm at his words. you look at your feet, down at the floor, trying to find something to say that doesn’t sound dumb. “it was fun. i had a nice time,” you murmur softly.

the two of you stand there in front of each other, not moving. you don’t know why, but it was tense again. you wondered if you should say something else.

“oh, y’know what… i’m sorry for what i’m about to do.”

“what?” you ask him softly, looking at him.

“i’m sorry,” he says again, taking you by surprise when he takes your hand in his own. he starts to rub his thumb over your knuckles and presses a deep, chaste kiss to your lips. it wasn’t crazily passionate or anything, but you felt warmth, a new kind of one. it was lovely, really.

it felt different. somehow, it felt like it meant something.

“i’ll text you later,” he whispers, pulling you into a tight hug. jisung rubs your back and your shoulders lovingly, it’s a gentle touch. he lets go of you after a long while, looking at your blushing face. “let’s go,” he mutters with an anxious undertone when he walks you to your car. opening the door for you, you enter your own car and mumble a goodbye, trying to close the door and leave as fast as possible so you can scream and dream all about what just happened, but jisung stops you.

“ji, i gotta go.”

“i know. i just want to let you know i love you.” he averts his eyes and bites his lip, grinning at the nickname, plus other things on his mind right now. his cheeks flush pink as you stare at him and you realize something. he likes you. he has for a long time now. he wasn’t looking at you when he said that, but he hopes you heard him well. and you did.

“i love you too,” you reply bashfully. he looks back at you and laughs nervously before pinching at your cheek.

“see you. get home safely,” your friend nods.

well, he’s not much of a friend anymore.

it feels good. were you worrying for nothing?

both of you said your goodbyes, so you start up your car. he watches as you wave and drive off, and he stands outside for a bit longer than he should. he longs for you. has he got you now? upon entering his home again, jisung shuts the door behind him. realization settles into him once more and he melts.

you gotta like him back, right?

101 notes · View notes

hyunjzone · 7 months

Text

✰ “better?”

genre! fluff, sfw.

word count! 1.5k (1,581)

pairing! minho x gn!reader (i thinkkk this could be used with either fem or masc ??)

tags! established relationship again, hurt/comfort i think, warnings for mentions of puke, petnames such as sweetheart (to reader) also not proofread hhh

summary! you’re super sick and minho wants to help you out by showing his love for you through some acts of service <3

you sit at the edge of your bed. speechless. you’re thinking a lot, but you don’t really say a word. your feet dangle off the bed and your eyes are just staring down at the floor while you just think. minho woke up earlier, you’d stayed the night and he usually gets up early anyways. you hear sounds in the kitchen. as much as you’d like to get up and see what’s going on, you can’t bring yourself to move.

you feel sick. caught a cold the other day that had evolved into more. you’re ill. maybe it’s more of a flu now. usually, if it’s your allergies, it’s a bunch of sneezing and a stuffy nose. if you really do only have a cold, you typically have the same symptoms. it’s always a guess of whether it’s allergies or a cold, and this time new effects emerged. you have a cough, and you get frequent headaches. minho’s always trying to help you now, but it doesn’t seem to be getting much better. you were worried when you first noticed it last week that minho would leave, but he hasn’t, he’s been helping you through it. minho’s probably wondering what’s wrong with you right now. you hope he isn’t too stressed out about it. how would you repay the guy after this?

“get up,” you think to yourself. feet hit the ground, you’re standing but all you can do is stay there and not move. dizziness? a little. keep going. take some steps forward. you feel heavy, like when you’re in the ocean and you come out with your swimwear full of water. whatever, just keep going.

you make your way to the kitchen where you’d assumed minho was cooking something, maybe breakfast for himself.

“minho?” you ask, voice hoarse from sleep. his head turns and looks at you with a straight face before he breaks into a small smile. your head still hurts somewhat, you think that everytime you acknowledge it, it gets worse. “did you have a good rest?” he asks curiously while he works with some pans by the stove. you wonder what he’s making, so you ask.

“guess,” he replies to your question as he flips one of the pancakes on the pan with ease. he looks back at you after a moment of silence passes, smirking. “well, it doesn’t smell bad,” you comment hesitantly. minho snorts in his own playful manner, looking back at the pancake he’d just flipped onto the plate. “well, you better have an appetite with you, too, because they’re good. anything i make is good.”

“psh. sure.” a weak smile and a couple steps forward, your fatigue is much worse. you make your way to the island and rest your elbows onto it, weight leaning onto the counter. you close your eyes tightly for several long moments; when minho turns around, his eyebrows furrow.

“something’s wrong?” he asks— well, obviously, yes— and sets a plate with a pancake to the side while setting down a couple forks for the moment. he brushes hair out of your face. something’s definitely wrong.

your throat is sore and your head hurts. you try to swallow against it, but you can’t seem to get any satisfaction, and it just hurts to swallow. “headache,” you manage to mumble out. you open your eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the light. it’s already afternoon outside. why is he making breakfast? you slept in the same bed last night, you probably infected him or something. did you fall asleep on him again? god, you feel disgusting.

“are you okay?” he asks gently, reaching out and pressing the back of his hand gently to your forehead. it’s oddly warm. not feverishly warm, but unusual. he determines it could get worse from now, for sure, and goes around to grab a clean glass to fill up with water. he places it in front of you without a word, but he’s offering. you’re thinking of so much right now.

you just want to go home, but then again you kind of don’t. also, without minho’s support you might just die. not really, but it’d feel that way. ugh.

“do you need to throw up?” he asks gently. you shake your head no, quickly. you don’t want to puke up everything in your stomach. it wouldn’t help anyone. you drink the water slowly, hoping it won’t taste awful. it’s just water. he holds your free wrist with a soft, soft grip and rubs circles onto it with his thumb as he stands by you while you sip slowly from the glass he had given you. the water is good. it’s clearing your head; a little. it hurts to swallow, though not as much. maybe it’s helping. you finish the glass and set it down next to you, leaning back into your hands on the table. you look over to minho and notice he’s looking back at you with concern etched across his features. he knows exactly what you need and want. he’s so good like that, when he helps you. it’s unmatched. man, you sure love your boyfriend. minho continues with his soothing movements on your wrist and the throbbing in your head isn’t so bad anymore. hell, it’s practically gone.

“better?”

“yeah, i think. better.”

“that’s great, love.” he smiles and leans down to try and press his lips against yours. his hands find their way to your waist and you have to stop him.

“what’s wrong?”

“i’ll get you sick.”

he stares at you for a second with that teasing smile of his. “i don’t care.”

“what?”

minho kisses you gently for a moment— though it sort of feels longer than that— before pulling away. “i said i don’t care, sweetheart. i love you.” and he does. minho loves you. there’s nothing else that matters. there’s never been anything else, ever since he met you. you’re his world. he’s yours. you both know that. he can’t bear to even think that you don’t. he’d rather suffer than lose you. minho will do anything to keep you safe. you know that, too. he knows you know. so he presses another kiss, this time to your forehead. you’re his moon, his sun and his stars; he’d never deny it.

“want those pancakes now?” minho offers, hand still around your waist.

“oh, yeah, please.”

“then let’s eat,” minho says, walking off to get the plate that has the food on it. he puts it down on the table for you with the fork sitting on top. you pick up the fork, taking a bite off the pancake.

“here, too.” the guy slides over some condiments: syrup, jelly. “if you want any.”

“thanks.”

“i didn’t wake you up today, did i?” he asks while sitting down.

“don’t know,” you reply with a straight face, lifting a piece of the pancake to your mouth with your fork. actually, he was right about the pancakes. these are good. super good. the syrup is warm and smooth. he rolls his eyes playfully at you.

“okay, sorry for waking you up.”

“no, it’s fine. thank you.”

“how are you feeling?”

“a bit better. i guess it was worse on an empty stomach.” you laugh awkwardly, trying to ignore the lingering pain in your head. it’s significantly less than before, though, and for that you are grateful.

“is there anything i can do?”

“just stay here,” you suggest, continuing eating. “maybe cuddle me?” you say quietly with an awkward smile. minho nods and smirks again. “wont you get me sick?” he answers. “i’m only kidding. you know i’d love to. finish eating for me, ‘kay?”

turning his back to get another glass, you shove the remainder of whatever was left of your pancake into your mouth. they were delicious and you couldn’t help yourself. he grabs another glass of water, this time for himself, and sips at it.

“you should rest more often,” he comments as he walks over to you. you don’t exactly reply while you chew. minho grins, putting the empty glass on the island. it clinks to the marble with a satisfying sound. you lean back, having finished your bite.

“want more?”

“no. all good. full.”

“okay.” he nods and looks off into the distance, not looking at anything specifically, just kind of thinking; like the way you were this morning. he glances back at you and sets his cup down. “do you want those cuddles now?”

with a smile and a nod, he’s next to you in a heartbeat. he picks you up, with only a moment’s worth of struggle and then carries you to the couch.

“we can watch something, if you want. or is a screen too much on your eyes?”

“no, it’s okay. screens don’t bother me,” you insist. minho goes along with it and sets you down on the long couch with him. he’s laying down against the armrest, back facing the corner while you’re in front of him. his arms are wrapped all around you and he just kind of lays with you there, head buried into your shoulder from behind. he giggles breathily.

“has that headache of yours gone?” he asks while he grabs the control to the television.

“mostly.”

“good.”

he clicks around and finds your favorite show, your comfort one, and while he can’t see your face well he knows you’re smiling. he starts the first episode, right from the beginning, and cuddles up to you warmly.

“i don’t care if i get sick,” he reminds you.

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hyunjzone · 7 months

Text

✰ ice skating with i.n.

genre! fluff, sfw.

word count! 1k (1,014)

warnings! n/a, only a bit of cursing lol and some pet names such as baby and the nickname “innie.” should be it ??? not proofread…

pairing! jeongin x fem!reader (though i think it could be used as gn!reader too…)

tags! established relationship, fluff, jeongin is teasing and playful w/ you on the ice, but all’s good

summary! you and jeongin go ice skating for a little date and he’s way better at it than you, and he is having a lot of fun while teaching you and teasing you at the same time

“two people,” he says to the guy at the front counter. jeongin brought you to an ice skating rink. you told him you couldn’t skate, but he insisted that it would be fun and that he’d teach you all about how to do it anyway. you reluctantly agreed and here you are. jeongin gives the man your shoe sizes and then he comes back with two pairs of ice skates in each of your sizes. “thank you,” mumbles jeongin with a small bow, almost more like a nod, and enters the huge room in which contains the rink.

it’s immediately much colder, and there’s only a few people at the rink today. you feel a little nervous and shiver at the sudden change in temperature; jeongin had warned to bring a jacket. thank goodness you complied.

“go sit by those benches, that’s where you change your shoes, see?” he says as he walks you over while he holds your wrist gently, giving you a tug.

he was wearing a long coat and you were wearing a fuzzy sweater. it was the warmest you had. he sits you down and smiles. “just take off your shoes and change into these,” he instructs with a casual tone and places your skates next to you. “balance is key. don’t panic. i’ll guide you,” he chuckles. he takes off his own shoes and you do the same.

“these are kind of tight,” you comment with a hushed voice as you slip your feet inside them. “they’re supposed to be,” he replies. “do you need help?” you shake your head slightly and tie the laces after putting both on. he nods in reply, leaning back on the bench slightly as he waits, he’s already put on his own skates. the guy watches your movements to see any struggle.

“good, now just stand up when you’re ready, don’t worry. i’ll be right behind you,” he tells you. you stand up slowly, trying not to wobble too much. he helps you balance yourself. you’re so careful to not fall or slip, but the feeling is so wildly foreign you can’t help but wobble. you’re sure that if you fall you’d hurt yourself somehow or break something. you try to keep yourself steady. “you can do it!” jeongin encourages you.

he leads you onto the ice, right behind you for every step. “that’s it, you’re doing well.” you inch closer, little by little, and you get onto the ice. people are smoothly gliding about on just the other side, but here you are at the entrance with no clue how to even move.

“okay, here’s where it gets tricky. you can’t just crab walk on the ice. you should make smooth motions. let me show you, yeah?”

“yes, please, innie,” you say sort of playfully. he grins back at you.

“so, you should stand like this. your feet should be at an angle, like so.” he demonstrates for you. “there should be a little bend at your knee. well, that’s what helped me. try it.”

you copy his moves as best as you can. he instructs for you to bend more or bend less, to maintain balance, to do all of this. it’s almost overwhelming, learning a new skill.

“good! now, to move, just bring your knee inwards. then slowly push it out. look…”

he does as he said himself: bringing the knee inwards, one foot at a time, and gliding, pushing out. he moves.

“then you do the same for the other. go slow as you start. and don’t be afraid of falling, the ice won’t hurt you,” he jokes. you shake your head and sort of stare at the floor. doing your best to do as he did, you bring your leg in, pushing out…

you move, but you start to worry. oh god, how do you steer on these things? your leg just kind of goes wherever, desperate to not fall, but alas, you drop to the floor right on your butt. jeongin lets out a gasp and then walks over to you. laughing softly, he offers you a hand.

“that’s okay! see, falling isn’t as bad as you think. it’s just… cold. and you should dust off your ass.”

“shut up,” you mutter shyly.

“it’s fine, nobody cares. everybody falls at some point when they learn how to do this and you’re no different. don’t even worry. just get up, silly.”

taking his hand, you very slowly stand up and he stables you. “all good?”

you give a nod and look around for a bit before your eyes return to his. he smirks and his eyes fold like crescents.

“don’t give me that look.”

“what? i’m not even doing anything.”

“you’re planning something,” you accuse him.

“what makes you think that? i mean, you’re right, but how’d you know?”

“you’re obvious! that stupid look you give.”

“oh, don’t be so mean. c’mon, i just wanted to spin you.”

“no. don’t you dare spin me. i’ll really die, jeongin, do not spin me.”

“it’s not that bad of a proposal! you should take the offer, it’s fun.”

“no.”

“please, baby?”

“nah.”

“seriously?”

“yes.”

“oh, yes as in you want me to spin you?”

“no! that’s not what i—“

you’re cut off and jeongin spins you around, not too fast that it makes you dizzy, but it was scary in a way. but it was fun. hey, it was fun! but you can’t admit that to jeongin. nope.

“oh, don’t ever do that again.”

“really? you didn’t enjoy that?” he teases.

“no.”

“come on, don’t be like that.”

“i am being like that! you’re making fun of me!” you exclaim.

“yeah, and i can do it more,” he laughs. he’s such a tease sometimes.

“no spinning.”

he lets out a hearty chuckle and looks into you with a little smile and those pretty eyes of his. “fine, fine, no spinning, as per my princess’ request. promise.”

“thank you,” you say with a playful tone before looking down at the ice again.

“maybe ice skating is fun.”

“maybe?”

“oh, shut up.”

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