#skz oneshots

[skzstannie]

"They found her"

SKZ -> ot8 x 9th member fem! reader

This is a part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone as there's not much reference to the original fic.

genre: hurt/comfort, angst wc: ~3,800 words cw: kidnapping, guns and gunshot wounds, hospitals, some brief cursing

Summary: Since the incident, the guys have been extremely over protective of you. You heed their warnings, but still go out unaccompanied by security on your vacation, only to have to pay the price for your poor decisions.

A/N: Hiiii, ik I've disappeared off the face of the Earth again, but I've brought gifts back with me this time. This one's a bit heavier, but it's the long awaited part 2 to "Did you know?", so I hope you guys enjoy. I hit 500 followers since the last time I posted, so this is kind of a celebratory post as well. Thanks guys!

Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!

The time has come around again when JYP has given you and your members some well-earned personal vacation, and you've chosen to spend that time back at home with your family and friends.

Upon hearing about your vacation, your childhood friends started blowing up your phone, asking about when you'll be in and if you wanted to hangout. Of course, you've missed them just as much and gave them all the details of you're arrival.

The day of said plans has finally arrived, and you couldn't be more excited. You and three of your closest friends have decided to go to this cute breakfast cafe for brunch, run by all your favorite stores for some shopping, and then round your evening out with some bar hopping.

"You have got to see this!" Ha-Yoon, a friend you've known since grade school, explodes from beside you in the passenger seat, fanning herself. "Look at how hot this guy is? Think he'll give me his number if I DM him?"

"Are you being for real?" Dae cringes from the backseat, leaning forward to get a closer look at your friend's new internet crush. "He's kinda ugly."

This elicits a bickering match for the remainder of the drive, with you and your remaining friend, Soon-Bok, rolling your eyes at their silly banter.

You decided that you'd pick them all up from their homes, figuring that you'd get to spend some more time with them that way. You didn't really think about the fact that perhaps more time was synonymous with too much time. Just because you hadn't seen your friends in months, doesn't mean that they didn't see each other literally every single day.

With a clear of your throat, they stop insulting each other's fantasy love interests, both squealing when they realize you've pulled into the parking lot for the cafe.

The four of you get out of the car, you pulling your keys out of your purse to lock the doors. While walking towards the doors of the cafe, you're hit with a strange feeling- like someone's watching you.

Immediately, you whip your head around in search of anyone getting a little too nosey, but you come up with nothing. You keep your guard up though, knowing you can never be too sure.

Since the stage incident a few months back, you've been feeling a little paranoid. Understandably so, especially since the mean and threatening comments never subsided. It's gotten to the point where the staff have begun to send out a few extra security guards each time you leave the JYP building. In fact, JYP gave you all this nice little vacation in hopes it'd help some of the comments die down. To your dismay, they have not.

The guys have been incredibly protective since then, and you're actually grateful for it for once. Their constant questions about your whereabouts and wanting to tag along with you everywhere you go used to annoy you, but you'd never think to complain about it now.

Just this morning, having told them about your exciting plans for the day, they sent a barrage of texts telling you to be careful. Chan practically demanded you take a security guard with you, but for the sake of your friends' comfortability, you declined. Was it stupid? Possibly, but you're only wish for this vacation is to make things seem normal again. Having constant security around is not normal.

You placated Chan by telling him that your family knows of the places you'll be, and your family and the rest of your members all have your location at all times. He was reluctant, almost threatening to fly himself to your home just to go out on your little excursion with you, but he eventually gave way, not without first lecturing you about how important your safety is- like you didn't already know that.

~ ~ ~

"And then he pushed him down the stairs! How crazy!" Dae finishes, your eyes widening at how her story ended. She had just finished telling you all about how her boyfriend got into this big fight with a guy at the bar the other day. Apparently, the random man thought it acceptable to lay his hands on Dae, and her boyfriend did not appreciate that.

"Your boyfriend is so hot," Ha-Yoon comments, her eyes looking dreamily off into the distance.

"Excuse me?" Dae questions, raising a brow at Ha-Yoon's confession.

"I mean-"

"Ok!" you interrupt, pushing your chair back from the table you've all been sat at. The brunch was nice, catching up with your friends was much needed and the food was warm and comforting, but enough is enough, and your friends are starting to get a bit squeamish. "I need to use the restroom quickly, then we can head to the mall? Does that sound ok?"

There's a chorus of yesses, and they shoo you off into the restroom, picking up their phones to distract themselves until you get back.

You make your way to the back of the cafe, noticing how the bathrooms are secluded down a small hallway in the corner of the restaurant. Your eyes glance out the emergency exit door, and you tilt your head in confusion upon seeing a large white van sat outside it. It is not parked in a parking spot; it's just parked directly outside the door.

You quickly do your business, not wanting to keep your friends waiting for too long, and head back out to the front of the cafe. Stepping outside the restroom, a hand is immediately thrown over your mouth, a piece of foul smelling cloth pressed up against your nose. You try to scream, but this only causes you to inhale more of the chemical.

You fight, attempting to throw an elbow behind you to dislodge yourself from the person's vice like grip, but this only leads to your elbow being grabbed at a painful angle. You whimper slightly as the person pries your elbow behind you, and it almost feels as if your arm could snap if you were to move another inch. You become lightheaded, and it's hard to keep your eyes open and your mind alert. Unable to fight any longer, you give in and slump down into the arms which hold you captive.

~ ~ ~

"She's been gone awhile, I'm gonna go-" Soon-Bok is cut off by an alarm inside the cafe going off. All the customers heads perk up at the noise, their attention drifting to the employees.

The waitresses look to one another in confusion before one makes their way over to where you went for the restroom a few minutes before. The cafe is silent as the waitress disappears, looking for where the alarm would be coming from.

It's silent for another minute, before there's an audible gasp. She comes back with your purse in one hand and your cracked phone in the other.

Your three friends quickly get up from their seats, rushing over to the waitress. "Where'd you find this?" Dae asks, her eyes tearing up.

"Just outside the bathroom. I was just able to catch a glimpse of a van speeding off. Do you think someone was taken?" she asks, her eyes widening at the thought.

"I think- I think our friend was kidnapped," Ya-Hoon whispers.

~ ~ ~

"This is why I said she needed a security guard with her! This would have never happened!" Chan snaps at their management in anger, rising up from his seat in the meeting room.

Upon hearing about your kidnapping, the rest of your members were immediately brought back to the JYP building. They were all livid.

"Chan, I understand you're upset, but there's really nothing we can do now but wait-"

"Wait for what? Huh? Wait for her to just magically appear here?" Minho cuts off the head of security, his face red with anger.

"Of course the police are on the case and doing everything they can to find her. As for the eight of you, you are not to leave this building until we get all of this under control. Do you hear me? We do not need more than one missing member." JYP is stern as he speaks, leaving no room for discussion. "This meeting is dismissed. We will update you all if we hear anything."

With that, everyone else clears out of the room, leaving your eight members.

"This is awful," Felix says, his head hanging in his hands.

"No shit, Felix, why not state more of the obvious," Jisung narrows his eyes at Felix.

"We can't turn on each other," Changbin butts in, deterring them from getting into it any further. "We have to stick together and just wait this out. She's strong; she'll be ok."

"But what if she's not," Hyunjin speaks up for the first time since they got back. He's been huddled up against Jeongin since they got there, his head hung low. It's obvious he's been crying with the way his cheeks are stained with tears, his eyes red from how often he's rubbed them.

"We can't think like that," Chan says, moving over to Hyunjin. He lays a comforting arm around his shoulders, and Hyunjin immediately moves to the comfort of the leader, turning his head to hide it in Chan's chest. "They saw the van leave, it couldn't have been too long before the police were there. They'll find her, and then she'll be right back here with us."

"To never be let out of our sights again," Seungmin grumbles from the couch, wearing a similar expression to that of Felix's.

"Correct," Minho agrees, leaning back in his chair.

~ ~ ~

"Seungmin, you have to sleep. Staying up for 72 hours straight is not going to make her come back any faster," Chan lays his hand on the back of the boy's neck, slightly rocking him side to side.

"Maybe not, but I'll be the first to know when they find her," he counters, his bloodhsot eyes meeting Chan's. "You're one to talk; you haven't slept either."

Chan just sighs in response, plopping down on the couch next to him. It's quiet between the two of them, but neither are complaining about it. The peace is nice after what they've been through the past few days.

"Hyunjin hasn't stopped crying. Jeongin and Felix have had to take turns laying with him," Seungmin breaks the quiet, his soft voice travelling throughout the practice room. "Han hasn't eaten since we found out."

"I know, I've been trying to get everyone up and moving, but no one's interested."

"Chan, we're not expecting you to be the hero. We know you're in pain, too, and it's ok to act like it," it takes Chan a minute to process what Seungmin had said, but as his brain takes time, he realizes that it's been so long since he's cried, so long since he's truly let his emotions out.

With another moment passing, Chan's breath quickens and tears spring into his eyes. Without another thought, he turns his head into Seungmin's shoulder and cries. He cries for you, and how scared you must be right now, and he cries for the rest of his members, knowing how bad this is hurting them. He cries because he can't take away their pain or yours, not this time.

~ ~ ~

"Wake up." You feel a cold splash of water hit your face, and you're abruptly brought to consciousness. Your eyes open quickly in response to the cold, but you squint once you're hit with the blinding light coming from the ceiling light above you.

You try to talk, to say anything, but you quickly become aware of the duct tape placed snuggly over your mouth.

You gain some more proprioception, feeling the tightness of the rope around your wrists and how your ankles are tied to the legs of the chair you're currently sat on.

"Hey!" Your attention is brought to the large man standing in front of you, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the gun in his hand. "Eyes here. And quit squirming so much!"

You freeze at that, stilling your movements. "Now listen here," you hear another guy say from across the room. You are just noticing him for the first time, and you realize that this guy in front of you must be the brawn of the operation. "We need some money. A lot of money. So, if you want to make it out of here alive, you need to call your family and have them bring us 350 million won. No less. Think you can handle that princess?"

Tears well in your eyes at the mention of death. You can't die like this, at the hands of these awful people. But you also know you don't want to get your family involved. So, deciding this is your best bet, you sit stoically. You look straight ahead, your focus unwavering.

"The silent treatment, huh?" You can see out of your periphery the man at the desk across the room stand from his chair. He makes his way towards you, but you pay him no mind, keeping your blank stare on the wall in front of you.

"If the threat's not enough to get you to talk, maybe this will be." He's quick to take the gun from the other man's hand, and before you can even flinch he's pointed it at your lower leg and let off a shot.

You choke on your own spit when the pain registers. You close your eyes and strain your body not to react, but there's only so much you can do. The tears you were successfully keeping at bay before now slide freely down your cheeks. Your hands are in tight fists behind your back, and you feel you may pass out from the white-hot pain radiating from your calf.

Your consciousness teeters, and all words being spoken by the men sound gibberish in your state. Just as you feel you may fall completely unconscious, you're startled by a loud bang from behind you. Your eyes lazily drift to the men, and you see their gazes widen before they quickly raise their hands in surrender. You make eye contact with the one that shot you, and that's the last thing you see before your eyes shut, your body and mind going completely numb.

~ ~ ~

The practice room door is flung open, bringing Chan out of his sleepy state. "What the hell? Be a little quieter would you," he mumbles, rolling his eyes at Jisung who stands in the doorway. For the first time since the news, Chan is attempting to get some sleep. It wasn't exactly on his own accord, though. After the constant hounding from the rest of the members, and even a threat from Felix that he'd sneak melatonin into his water, he decided it would probably be best for him to try and get some shut eye; he'll be of no use to anyone if he's delirious with sleep.

"They found her."

At this, all of Chan's previous drowsiness vanishes. He sits up from the couch faster than he ever has before, his joints cracking with such a sudden movement. "What?" he asks for clarification, fearing it might be too good to be true.

"They've found her. She's on the way to the hospital right now," Jisung's contagious smile makes more sense now, Chan wearing a similar expression.

"Where are the rest of the boys?" Chan stands from the couch in a rush, quickly slipping his shoes on.

"They're in the meeting room. They just bought our flight there, we're leaving now."

~ ~ ~

"Thank you," you tell the nurse, taking the small cup of water from her hands. It's been a few hours since you woke up from your unconscious state. Upon arriving at the hospital, they immediately took you into surgery to remove the bullet from your leg. Thankfully, it missed all the important stuff, leaving your bones completely in tact. You're left with some muscle damage, but the doctor assured you with some physical therapy you'd be back to normal again.

You're now laying in bed recovering. The wound has been stapled and is wrapped tightly. You have your leg resting on a couple pillows, hopefully to help prevent the swelling. Beside you on the couch is your family, having come in immediately upon hearing the news. Some silly K-Drama is playing on the T.V, but it's enough to keep your mind occupied for now, so you're thankful for it.

Nobody confirmed it for you, but you were sure your members were well on their way. Your family told you that you had been kidnapped for a few days. You told them you only remember being awake for a few minutes, but apparently they kept knocking you out again and again.

After talking with the police, you find that they were using you for ransom, and they kept knocking you out because they didn't have everything squared away yet; whatever that means, you're not quite sure.

As if on cue, the door to your room swings open, revealing Chan and Minho. They're out of breath and sweaty, looking as if they had just run a marathon.

You're given no time for formal greetings as they both launch themselves at you, throwing their arms haphazardly around you until you feel like you're squished beneath them. Your mom makes a protesting sound, but you wave her off with a gesture of your hand. They missed you, and you missed them. They weren't hurting you or anyone else by hugging you.

"You're never leaving our sights again," Chan says, his cheek pressed against the top of your head.

"Never ever," Minho agrees, his torso laid lightly across your lap.

"I'm okay-" you start, only to be cut off by an angry looking Chan. His face pops into view at your words, eyebrows furrowed.

"You are indeed not okay! You were kidnapped, unconscious for hours on end, and then shot! How are you possibly trying to convince us that you're ok?" Minho stands up at his outburst, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm alive, and that's okay enough for me."

With your response bludgeoned into their minds, they both collapse on top of you in another hug.

You bask in their warmth a bit longer, only being interrupted with the door creaking open. Felix and Hyunjin stand there, teary and red-eyed.

"Your time's up," Hyunjin sniffles, moving out of the way of the door so the two can exit.

"We'll be back," Chan leans down to kiss your forehead while Minho grabs your hand, giving it an assuring squeeze.

They leave, and Felix and Hyunjin scurry in after them. They crowd around your bedframe, hesitant to even lay a hand on you.

"Hey," you whisper, reaching over to grab both of their hands, "I'm okay."

Hyunjin breaks down in sobs, and it only takes Felix a minute before he's right there with him. You let go of their hands and open your arms to welcome them in for a hug. Both of them hesitate again, but eventually bend down to give you the gentlest hug you've ever received.

"Does it hurt?" Felix mumbles, his arms tightly wrapped around your shoulders.

"They've got me on some serious meds, so no. It probably will when I come off of them, though. I haven't tried to walk-"

"And you wont either. Not for a long while," your mom cuts in from the couch.

"Thanks for your input, Mom."

"No problem," her gaze shifts to the boys, "She's been moody since she came out of surgery. They say it's because of the meds." They both let out a huffy laugh at that, and while you're absolutely dying to argue, you're just thankful to see Hyunjin and Felix smile.

There's another knock at the door, and all your heads snap to Changbin and Jisung. "Our turn," Jisung says, gesturing for Felix and Hyunjin to get out.

"We'll see you soon," Felix says before making his way to the door.

"Love you," Hyunjin says, hugging you for a second longer.

"Love you, too," you tell him, and you watch as he gets up and walks toward the door.

Once they're gone, Jisung and Changbin come into the room.

"Chan is never letting you out of his sight again; you know that, right?" Changbin asks, pulling up a chair beside you.

"Uh, not just Chan, all of us," Jisung argues. "You know how when girls go out they all have to, like, go to the bathroom together? That's about to be us bestie."

"Um, ew," you grimace just thinking about all your privacy being stripped from you.

"We'll wait outside, of course," Changbin says, trying to make you feel better.

"Oh, how thoughtful," you sass back, giving them a sarcastic smile.

"But for real though, are you ok?" The atmosphere turns serious at Jisung's inquisition. "We were all worried sick about you."

"I guess I could be better, but I'm gonna be just fine. Doc said some physical therapy and I'll be good as new."

"Did you know they didn't even realize you were an idol at first?" Changbin says, piquing your interest. "They said they thought they just picked up some random person at the cafe. Apparently that's why they kept you knocked out for so long; it made things more complicated."

"I did not know that, actually. The police only gave me a quick run down, said they'd be back later for some more questioning and to give us some more information."

Another knock is heard at the door, and you look to see Seungmin and I.N standing there, the last of your boys. "Our turn now, move along," Seungmin says, tapping his foot impatiently.

"That's our cue, we'll see you later." They both lean down to give you a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the room.

Seungmin and I.N come in, seeming even more urgent than Chan and Minho did earlier.

They both come crashing down on top of you, all concern for the wires attached to you out the window.

Wanting to tease them, you say, "What if I was, like, seriously hurt? And now you two just came running in here like a pack of wild animals?"

"Give me a break, everybody said you were fine and that you were accepting hugs," Seungmin throws back, giving you a firm poke in the side.

You bark out a laugh at that, a smile gracing your features. "They also said that you hadn't smiled yet. So there," Seungmin nuzzles his head back into your shoulder, and you feel him breath a sigh against your neck.

"We missed you," I.N says from the other side where he's latched onto your arm.

"I missed you guys more."

"Not possible, I'd never seen any of the guys so worked up before. Chan didn't sleep the whole time you were gone, and as soon as we convinced him to, they found you," Seungmin says.

"Well, I'm here now," you comfort them, rubbing a hand on each of their backs.

"And we're never letting you go again."

~ ~ ~

Part 1

#stray kids #skz #stray kids imagine #stray kids oneshot #stray kids fanfic #skz imagine #skz oneshot #skz fanfic #skz ot8 #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #seungmin #hyunjin #lee know #skz oneshots #stray kids imagines #stray kids ot8 #ot8 x reader #changbin #bang chan #i.n #han jisung #lee felix #skz hurt/comfort #skz angst #part 2/2

[seungbinbin]

bf!skz random texts: sassy man apocalypse edition

warnings: curse words, sassy men 💔, the term ‘girl’ is used once (for seungmin’s !) but not intended to be gendered !

a/n: heyyyy…heyy…how y’all doing…😁 so sorry i decided to not post in two decades but here y’all go ! i keep seeing these slideshows on tiktok so i thought i could make some skz-ified texts lol lmk what y’all think !

chan & lee know —✮⋆˙

changbin & hyunjin —✮⋆˙

han & felix —✮⋆˙

seungmin and jeongin —✮⋆˙

#never written a serious thing in my entire life so sorry #stray kids fake texts #stray kids fanfic #stray kids texts #stray kids oneshot #stray kids smau #straykids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #skz texts #skz fake texts #skz #skz x yn #skz oneshots #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x gn reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x gender neutral reader #skz ot8 #skz imagine

[astraystayyh]

Invisible thread- one

pairing : minho x reader

genre : university au, academic rivals to lovers (rivals not enemies because they respect each other), slow burn, fluff, angst.

warnings : reader has a very bad relationship with her mother, insecurities, talk about murder but as a joke, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

summary : Your studies were your lifeline for as long as you can remember. What happens when Minho comes into your life and rips it away from you?

word count : 20k

Author's note : I've been working on this fic on and off for the past two months, so if you do enjoy reading, please let me know. asks, comments, reblogs i read them all and they truly make me the happiest <3 (also i based this off my own college experience, where we study two terms and there is one person on top of the class every semester)

part two

You have always been first in your class.

Not because you particularly enjoyed studying. You simply felt that your worth was solely tied to the marks on your papers.

You never wanted to crumble under the pressure of studies, to hole yourself up in your room for an assignment you won’t remember in a month. But achieving good grades was the only way for you to feel seen; to make someone stop in their tracks and acknowledge you. 

A simple “good job” that you preserved inside your mind, as a reminder that you did exist to other people. Considering that the majority of your life was spent in silence. 

Your mom put a roof above your head and food on your table, but she never asked about your day, nor did she seem to care. You felt as though you were no more important to her than the tapestry hanging on your wall.

At times, you imagined that if you stood close enough to that tapestry, you could merge with it as one. The intricate embroidery would wrap around you and draw you in. And your mother wouldn’t notice. She would regard you with the same indifference she showed towards that textile- a mere decoration, at times a nuisance when she had to dust it.

You always ate your dinner alone. When you scraped your knee, you tended to the wound by yourself. No one attended your childhood musicals, and you patted your back when you cracked an egg without dropping a shell into the bowl. 

You’ve come to learn since your young age that all your milestones, both small and significant, would be celebrated alone. 

On the rare times your mother would acknowledge your presence, she’d unleash a flurry of criticism your way as if she was eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike you down. She'd toss crude comments over her shoulder as easily as a casual hello, leaving you feeling battered and bruised in her wake. 

You felt as if you were shoreline rocks, and your mother was the ocean. You never knew if she would be like a gentle tide, barely brushing against you, or an enraged storm, mercilessly crashing down on your being. And you weren't sure which one was worse: to be invisible or to be seen and despised.  

That’s why you grew up plagued with self-doubt. You made friends throughout your school years but you never allowed them to get close enough to really see you -you feared that they might glimpse the very thing your mother seemed to despise in you. 

Throughout your childhood, you were like soft clay in your mother's hands- pliable, and easy to mold. And she indented you, everywhere, carved in edges and dips where they should not have been ones. Handled you roughly when you should have been treated with care. And as the years went by, you hardened- much like clay, but her touch remained imprinted upon you. It was difficult at times to discern who you were and who she made you to be.

You tried to start anew when you went away to university; to rewire your brain into believing that you were enough- you exist and you shouldn't prove to anyone that you deserved to be alive. But her words haunted you, they were like skeletons in your closet- but the closet was you. You could never part from them.

So, you fell back into the same pattern of seeking good grades and congratulatory words from your professors. Every A+ you got infused you with a momentary sense of worthiness.

But unlike in high school, you weren't always the best. Your competition came in the form of a single man named Minho, who seemed to excel in every class you shared.

Minho was mostly quiet, but whenever he spoke, you found that his words carried weight. Your professors consistently agreed with his points, and you envied the confidence he exuded. You wondered what it must feel like to be so sure of oneself.

It wasn't until a month into the year that you had your first interaction with Minho. You were in your Constitutional Law class when your professor Kim brought up the notion of ‘Separation of Powers’. You were arguing that judges shouldn’t be included in the writings of law when you heard a scoff from the row behind you. You turned around, raising a brow at the culprit, "Is there something you’d like to say?" you asked.

And in response, Minho smiled lazily, an air of smugness surrounding him, "I just don’t agree." The professor urged him to explain himself, so he leaned back into his chair, eyeing you. "Judges are the ones who practice the law every day, and sometimes they find that none of the written texts fit their case. If they get involved in lawmaking, they can help address those gaps or uncertainties." 

"Who's to say that those judges aren’t biased or politically motivated? They’ll end up writing laws to fit their own preferences," you pointed out, raising an eyebrow at him. "We elect judges to interpret and apply laws, not make them. If they start writing laws too, we'll be violating the separation of powers between the legislative and judicial branches. That's what keeps our entire system from crumbling."

Minho rested his chin on his hand, tapping his cheek thoughtfully with his index finger. "Aren’t legislators prone to biases too? Your point doesn’t stand then," he challenged, tilting his head to the side, "and judges can participate without going overboard. They can provide input on proposed laws without actually drafting them. That way, we ensure that the laws are crafted with a clear understanding of how they'll be put into practice." 

"If your main concern is to ensure that the laws are impartial, we have people who work as consulting experts whose job is exactly that," you flashed him an innocent smile, firing back. "Also, wouldn’t these overstepping branches put the judges in a position to be perceived in a bad light? Is that what you want?"

Before Minho could respond, Mr. Kim intervened, putting an end to your debate, "Let's save this energy for your essays and see who can convince me more."

You gave a quick nod, swiveling in your seat without a backward glance. However, you could sense Minho’s gaze penetrating through your back- as if he was trying to read your most intimate thoughts. 

That was the first thing you noticed about Minho when he walked over to you. His eyes were brown, not a special color by any means. But they held a certain depth to them that seemed to draw you in like a black hole. You weren't sure what you would find on the other side, nor did you have any desire to find out.

He outstretched his hands towards you, stopping you in your tracks. "Minho," he introduced and your hand met his in a firm grip. The second thing you noticed about him was the coldness of his hand, as it wrapped tightly around your palm. 

Suddenly you were taken back to when you built a snowman for the first and last time. You were just seven and the ice was freezing, numbing your fingers as you worked. Your mother never told you that you should’ve worn mittens, or a thick jacket to fight off the cold when she saw you walking out of the house. The memory of your cold hands and the horrible illness that followed still left a bitter taste in your mouth, like an unripe fruit. With a jolt you dropped his hand, forcefully pulling yourself away from that memory. 

"Yn," you said back, and he smiled to himself, repeating your name slowly, each syllable dripping from his tongue.  

"We'll see who'll write the best essay, right?" he asked, clearly challenging you. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes that reminded you of a child gazing up at cotton candy. 

That was the third thing you noticed about Minho; how expressive his eyes were. They moved with his every word, punctuating them. 

He was infuriating but also amusing. You've never had a clear competitor in your life. Or maybe you had, but you didn't notice them. You were always so reclined on yourself, trying to survive the day, you didn't pay enough attention to your surroundings.

"You want to compete with me?" You asked, and he smirked, leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. "What? Scared you’d lose?"

"Please." You rolled your eyes at his taunting, "Don’t come crying when I win."

"We’ll see about that!" He shouted after you as you walked ahead, leaving him behind.

This essay was insignificant. A simple way for your professor to assess your knowledge and work approach. And yet, you found yourself staying up all night to complete it. There was no way you were going to let Minho take this one thing from you.

Who were you if not the best in your studies? You were deathly afraid to find out. 

Later on that week, the professor handed you your grade back, 98%. You turned around to show Minho your mark, and so did he. You surpassed him, only by mere percents. "I told you so," you smiled cheekily and he pouted, holding a hand to his heart as if your grade wounded him.

"I'll beat you next time", he mouthed and you chuckled, "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

✹✹✹

The first time you studied with Minho was in a cat café near campus, called Limbo, about two weeks after your initial interaction. You stumbled upon it serendipitously while strolling through your university town. You couldn’t study at home, since you were easily distracted in there, and the eerie silence of libraries often left you unsettled.

Limbo, however, offered the perfect middle-ground: it was calm, not overly crowded, and the buzzing of the coffee machine blended harmoniously with the occasional mewls of cats, which helped you concentrate better. 

You were sitting in a secluded corner table at the café's back, a sleeping black cat comfortably nestled in your lap when you sensed a shadow loom over you. You glanced up quickly to find Minho. He was clad in a grey hoodie sporting a bunny holding up its middle finger. You had to bite your cheek to suppress a grin at his clothing attire.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. 

"You know for someone smart you sure ask stupid questions," you remarked, already looking down at the papers scattered in front of you.

He huffed, taking a seat at the table right next to yours, "I can’t believe that of all places you’ve found this café to study in."

"My apologies, am I disturbing you, your highness?" You asked sarcastically, and in retort, Minho mimicked your words in a high-pitched tone. You threw the pillow right next to you at his head, and Minho swiftly ducked, easily avoiding it. He chuckled loudly while you glared at his laughing figure. That was the end of your conversation that day. 

From that moment forward, it became a routine for the two of you to study at Limbo, every Saturday, without fault. You didn’t explicitly plan on it, but it seemed that both of you found it comforting to work there. And you could also tell that, unlike you, it wasn’t Minho’s first time coming to Limbo. He was friends with the owner, a sweet middle-aged man who offered you pastries whenever you stayed there until closing. The cats seemed to know him too, they mewled at his feet whenever he entered and he always greeted them with a soft smile on his face. 

You didn’t talk much in those unofficial study sessions, the both of you were consumed by your own work. But you’d steal quick glances at him every now and then, the sight of him so concentrated only fueled you to work harder.

Admittedly, your competition left you feeling anxious for days on end at first. Each time Minho came out on top, you’d found yourself losing your grip. Your studies have been the one anchor keeping you afloat your entire life, and now, Minho was ripping it carelessly away from you. So, you resented him- you were human after all.

But then, you realized that Minho’s taunting wasn’t malicious. He wasn’t competing with you to hurt you, he was doing it for amusement only.

You've slowly started to learn that despite his relentless teasing, Minho had a gentle aura surrounding him. Glimpses of which occasionally emerged like rays of sunshine piercing through a thick cloud cover.

True, he chuckled when you accidentally bumped your head on the table while retrieving a fallen pen. Yet, you also noticed how he began to cover the table's corners with his hand whenever you bent down. He swiftly retracted his hand, seemingly believing you didn't notice, but you did.

During class presentations, he deliberately prepared challenging questions for you, urging you to study twice as hard to ensure no stone was left unturned. Yet, whenever the professor praised your performance, Minho offered a subtle thumbs-up as a gesture of support. He winked at you each time he got the right answer and you didn’t. However, when he noticed you struggling with a particular subject, he scooted closer and patiently explained it to you. He got up before you could thank him, swatting his arm in the air as if he didn’t do anything of significance. 

To show your appreciation, you bought him a drink that day he helped you—a simple gesture that sparked an ongoing game of "win a bet, get free food". You bet on who would receive the first mark on an assignment or who would finish an essay first- anything to further deepen the competition between you.

That's how you came to know that he loved puddings, among other things.

Curiously, as the months went by, your mind began to retain these little details about him. How his eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings when he blinked repeatedly during your conversations. How he glanced at the ceiling when lost in deep thought as if he was waiting for the answers to descend from the sky. Or how his lips take on the shape of an "o" while thinking of his response during one of your many debates. But you supposed that it was natural to take notice of such things when you spend countless Saturday afternoons with the same person.

You were still studying for someone else, in the sense that each time you stayed up working, it was solely to prove your worth to Minho. But at least unlike your mother, Minho's words never haunted you at night.

✹✹✹

Just like that, four months have gone by since you joined your university as a law major. It was nearing finals week and you were preparing it at Limbo. Minho was naturally present too, at his usual table right next to yours.

On the last weekend before the beginning of your finals, you were head-deep into your Criminal Law documents when Minho abruptly got up from his seat and settled in the chair in front of you.

"Yn," he whispers and you glance at him, "What?" 

"I have an idea."

"Keep it to yourself," you grin sarcastically, only for him to pick up your spoon and move it around in a threatening manner.

"Are you trying to scare me with a spoon?" you chuckle in disbelief.

 "Anything can be a weapon if you use enough force."

"Okay… that was creepy. What do you want?"

"The end of the first term is coming up. So, to celebrate our little rivalry-"

"It's not a rivalry if I’m always winning," you cut him off.

"Yeah, that’s why I have a fridge full of pudding."

"But-"

"Anyways, how about the top of the class takes the other out for dinner? A fancy one." He suggests, his gaze fixed on you.

"No, thank you. I already see you enough in classes."

"Didn’t think you wouldn’t up for a bet. Guess I was wrong," he remarks, a cheeky smile drawn on his lips. He knows you couldn’t possibly say no now.  

"Fine," you roll your eyes at his proud expression. "Prepare your wallet." 

"Mm, sure," he responds, before rising from his seat once more.

That day, you both lost track of time as you studied in Limbo until it closed down. When you finally stepped outside, stretching your tired limbs, you were met with the sight of falling snowflakes.

"Nooo, go away. I don't want to watch the first snow with you," Minho whines, referring to the superstition that watching the first snowfall with someone could spark love between the two of you. 

"As if I could ever love you," you laugh at the ridiculous idea, "that’d just be signing a death warrant."

You resume walking towards your apartment when suddenly something freezing and hard hits your back with enough force to make you stagger. Turning around slowly, you find Minho erupting in laughter, his body filled with uncontainable joy. He’s jumping and clapping excitedly, and for a fleeting moment, you can’t decide if your shock was from the impact or from how beautiful happiness looks on him. 

Snapping out of your daze, you swiftly retaliate by scooping up a handful of snow and hurling it at him. "Now you are cold too!" you shout, while he’s still laughing uncontrollably. 

Thus begins an impromptu snowball fight between the two of you. Unsurprisingly, you’re being competitive in this too, trying your best to strike each other before the other could recover. But Minho draws nearer to you, and in your desperation to win, you fall to the ground when he throws a snowball at your chest, gasping as if you’re in pain.

"Shit, did I hurt you?" Minho quickly kneels in front of you, concern evident in his voice. It surprises you for a moment- how worried he seems at the prospect of causing you pain.

But you shake that thought off and push him down to the ground, a proud smile on your face. In his fall, Minho instinctively reaches for you to steady himself, which ends up with you landing on top of him. Your faces are mere inches apart, and a soft gasp escapes your mouth at your sudden proximity.

Minho has a mole on his nose. You’ve never noticed that before. 

You quickly push yourself off of him, not enjoying being this close to somebody. "Why did you drag me down with you?" you grumble, shaking off the snow from your hair.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes," he cheekily stuck out his tongue, and you respond with the same childlike gesture before the both of you burst into loud laughter. The sound reverberates through your entire being, and it echoes in your mind long after the two of you go your separate ways.  

As you lay in bed that night, ready to drift off to sleep, a quiet realization dawns on you. This was the first time you've touched snow in since your childhood incident.

That unpleasant memory didn't cross your mind once. Instead, all you thought about was Minho’s infectious laughter, and the surprising warmth it stirred within you.

✹✹✹

You came first in your grade this semester.

True to his words, Minho texted you the name of the restaurant where you’d both meet to celebrate your win. As you got ready for your outing, you couldn’t help the nerves creeping up on you. Studying in silence next to Minho was something, going to a friendly dinner with him was another. You feared it would be too awkward and Minho would regret ever proposing such a thing.

So, as you sit in the refined BBQ restaurant waiting for him, you fidget with your hands, counting down to three in your head in an attempt to steady your breathing.

You were clearly not accustomed to existing with Minho outside of the confines of your studies.

"Did you wait long?" Minho asks as he finally pulls the chair in front of you and you shake your head no.

"Are you nervous?" he chuckles at your lack of words, and you frown, suddenly feeling defensive. "Why would I be nervous? This isn't a date."

"Who said anything about a date?" he smirks and you grab your fork threateningly, pointing it at him, "Don't say anything stupid or I will walk out."

"And stand me up on our first date? That's too mean.” He pouts, a hand on his heart and you can’t help but giggle at his antics. You were ridiculous for being nervous. This was Minho, the one person you’ve talked to the most since the start of this year. 

"What will you have?" he asks and you smile mischievously.

 "Most expensive thing on the menu."

"So you are only here for the food." 

"Well, it's certainly not for your company," you wink and he chuckles, his bunny teeth on full display. 

"And here I thought we were going to be civil with each other."

"When are we ever not?" you gasp dramatically and Minho swats your hand with the menu. "Just order whatever," you finally answer," I trust your food judgment."

"I could poison you, you know?" He smiles proudly and you roll your eyes at him, "Can’t you be normal, for once?"

Minho calls over the waiter and places your orders. The food is quick to arrive and Minho starts to grill up the meat, while you cut the Kimchi into smaller pieces. 

"Here," he puts the perfectly cooked rib onto your plate first and you smile at him, "Thank you."

"Eat up, don’t wait for me," he tells you and you nod, tasting the flavorful meat.

"Wow this is really good," you compliment and he smirks proudly at your words, "I know."

Minho places four other ribs for you, without eating one himself. You start to feel bad, so you grab his chopsticks, pick up the meat, and move it toward his mouth, "Open up."

"What?" He asks confused and you wave the food in front of his face, "Come on, you haven’t eaten anything."

Minho parts his lips slowly, and you feed the tender meat to him, before eating one yourself. You notice how his cheeks are slightly tinted pink now, and you account it to the intense heat of the grill.

"Oh, let's not talk about studies, my brain can't take another debate with you," you tell Minho in between bites and he grins at you, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "If you were to dispose of a body, how would you do it?"

"I think our next celebration will be in an asylum." you smile too sweetly at him and he stares at you pointedly, "Please, I know you've already thought about it."

"Fine. Probably in a deserted land. What about you?"

"I'd cut their bodies and then bury each part in a different forest. In a different city."

His answer came too quickly, and you pause in your tracks, "Should I be worried?"

"You are too cute to kill." His tone is sarcastic and you make a show of gushing at his compliment, clasping both of your hands in front of your heart, "Growing soft on me, Minho?" 

"Yeah, I’m basically sooo in love with you," he replies with a smirk and you roll your eyes at him, an amused smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"What's your favorite color?" you finally ask, changing the subject.

"Purple."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"You'll buy me purple flowers?" He coos at you and you shake your head as you grab the utensil from his hand, to grill the meat your turn. 

"No. I'll paint your tombstone purple," you grin and he laughs loudly, eyes squinted close, and you can't find it in you to care that the people next to you are staring. 

"What's yours?" he asks when he calms down and you shrug, "Navy blue, I think."

"You do remind me of navy blue."

"And why is that?"

"When you look at it, at first glance, it looks like black. But the more you stare at it, the more layers you uncover. Just like you. There’s more to you than what meets the eye."

You grab your glass of water, gulping it down to hide the way your eyes just glossed over. You suddenly felt bare in front of Minho. How did he know?

You clear your throat, racking your brain for a way to move on from that question. "If you were to describe colors to a blind person, how would you do it?"

"Mm," he looks up at the ceiling as he mulls over your question, "I’d say that yellow is the feeling of eating ice cream on a sunny day, in an amusement park. Your fingers are sticky but your cheeks ache from how much you smiled that day."

"Yellow is carefree and happy."

"Exact. Now your turn, red."

"I’d say that... Red is the thrill that rushes through your veins when you do something you are passionate about, you know? It’s what makes our blood boil and our heart race. The very essence of our humanity."

Minho smiles softly at your words, seemingly agreeing with your description. "Don’t you think it would be easier if we simply asked, what color are you feeling today, instead of a 'How are you'?" He questions and you tilt your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you could say, I feel like that moss green that no one seems to pay attention to. Or, I feel bright yellow as if the world's energy is stored inside me."

"And right now, how do you feel?"

"I feel orange, not the ugly orange." He precises and you chuckle, "the orange that paints the sky when the sun is about to dip into the ocean."

"A bittersweet orange, an ending that instantly strings along a new beginning. And you don't have time to rest."

Minho places his chin on his palm, eyeing you curiously, "Is that what you want? To rest?"

"Yeah." You admit quietly, "Don't you sometimes wish that the world would just stop, for a few seconds? Just like in a song, right before the beat drops. That silence, I wish I could live inside of it."

"I do too."

You both hold each other’s gaze for a while after that. You felt as if he was keeping you captive with his brown eyes, and he was slowly peeling each of your layers, in silence, as you were peeling his. For the first time, you think that you and he are similar, more than on a studies level. There was a part of his soul that understood yours perfectly. And it felt good, to be understood, for once.

"If you lived in this silence, what would you be doing?" he asks, breaking the serene quiet that surrounded you.

"I’d open a café that had books. And there'd be a little space, where people could paint. Or do pottery. And I’d have cats in there too." You reply excitedly, hands moving around in the air, you end up missing the way Minho gazes fondly at you before his smile morphs into a smirk.

"Please tell me you won't be cooking."

"Shut up. What about you?"

"I’d be a dancer."

"You dance?!" you whisper-shout and he frowns at the surprised look on your face. 

"Yeah. Why are you looking at me like this?"

"I just never expected it. Can I-"

"No." he cuts you off immediately and you pout. 

"I didn't even finish."

"I knew what you were going to say."

"Please, I won't make a sound I’d just watch. Pinky promise.” He grabs your now outstretched pinky with the tip of his index and thumb, lowering it down. 

"I’d only grant you this wish when you’re on your deathbed."

"Bold of you to assume you'd still be around."

"Death might be around the corner."

"Stop it."

"Close your door tonight."

"You are deranged."

Minho chuckles at the crestfallen look on your face, "I’ll think about it."

Just like that, three hours of talking have gone by, the conversation flowing easily between the two of you. And when you finally leave the restaurant, Minho grabs you a cab and you wave him off with a smile. You couldn't lie to yourself, you had a really good time with him. You liked to think that Minho was no longer just a rival, but a possible friend.

But now that you were laying in your bed, you couldn’t help but curse Minho in your brain. His repetitive talk about murder made you paranoid, and now every creak in your apartment made you feel as if death was really right around the corner. 

You decide to text him, figuring that if you couldn’t sleep because of him, you could at least disturb him for a bit. 

Yn : I hate you I'm paranoid from your murder talk

Minho : Poor baby

Yn : Is that you at my door?

Suddenly your phone rings, the shrill sound echoing around your apartment. It was a Facetime call from Minho. You panic for a few seconds, before remembering that you just spent your entire night with him. A call can’t be more daunting than a real-life meeting. 

"See, I’m in my home," he tells you as soon as you pick up and you laugh.

"It's pitch black, I can't see."

"Just say you miss my face." You can’t see him but you can clearly hear the proud grin in his voice. 

"What's there to miss?"

"Are you actually scared?" Minho asks gently and you clear your throat, feeling ridiculous all of the sudden. 

"There is a tree right outside my window and it keeps rustling from the wind," you grumble and Minho laughs at you. 

"Trees can't hurt you."

"No shit Sherlock."

"Close your eyes.” He instructs and you frown at his words. 

"Why?"

"I’ll tell you a story."

"Fine.” You close your eyes tentatively. It’s quiet for a few seconds and you feel yourself relax slightly. 

"So, I bought a sous-vide machine and-"

"Is your bedtime story going to be about meat?"

"Yes?” He replies as if it’s an evidence, “Now be quiet." You pretend to zip your mouth and Minho faintly giggles, before resuming his story. "So, I was saying. I bought one and I wanted to experience different kinds of meats. So, I bought a 30-day aged one and a 58-day aged one and I cooked them both."

"What did you use?" you ask quietly. 

"Just garlic, and thyme, I didn't want to overpower the taste of meat. Anyways I cooked them, but I didn't have plastic bags so I had to go out and buy them."

"Mm," you hum in acknowledgment. You could feel your nerves slowly dissipate with Minho's every word. His story might be ridiculous but his honey-coated voice compensated for it, wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. 

"And I found pudding there so I had to buy it."

"Obviously," you whisper. Sleep was knocking on your door, but paradoxically you tried to fight it off. You wanted to hear the rest of Minho’s story. 

"And I went back home and I cooked it, then I plated it nicely with vegetables that I sauteed with butter and garlic. Just mushrooms and potatoes, nothing too fancy. Again, my main focus was the meat. But there wasn't a difference between the two. They tasted the same for me, for some reason. And I didn't like this because the aged one was very expensive. Maybe I was scammed. Honestly, that butcher looked kind of suspicio..."

Your quiet snores make Minho pause in his tracks, and he laughs quietly. You did end up falling asleep. He can't see your face clearly, but he can see its outline and he stares at you for a while. You look peaceful.

He goes to hang up but his finger hovers over the 'end call' button. You aren't talking, but your hums are quiet enough that they fill up the space around him. It calms him down, and he lets his head fall on the pillow, his phone lying beside him.

He closes his eyes, thinking that maybe he just found the silence you talked about earlier on. 

You just made his world stop.

✹✹✹

The second semester had just started and with it the return of frat parties. You were excited at the prospect of going to one with your new friend Mina. You met her in the library when you both went to grab the same book. You quickly apologized but she waved you off, handing you the book with a huge smile on her face. She was bubbly, like a human serotonin boost, and she started gushing about how much she loved the author. You saw her again in the campus cafeteria, and she skipped towards you as if you've both known each other your entire life. That was the start of your friendship.

You walk into the frat house, both your arms encircling each other. The flashing lights of the party blind you for a moment, and it takes you a while to adjust to the loud music bouncing off of the walls. But you like it, it was like a shield from the outside world and its problems. 

You feel yourself letting loose in the crowd, swaying your hips to the music. Mina spins you around and you laugh, dancing with no care in the world. It was just the both of you in that instant. 

Mina spots Jeongin in the crowd, a friend of hers that she had an immense crush on. You couldn’t blame her- he was very attractive; his easy smirk and his blonde tousled hair earned him lots of appreciative looks from the people around him. But when his eyes locked with Mina’s, you found that his face morphed into a beautiful smile, that made his dimples look on full display, as if it was only reserved for her.

“Go get your man!” You shout in her ears, so she’d be able to hear you. 

“What are you talking about?” She yells back, but you could see the nervous smile on her face.

“He likes you! Go talk to him!”

“I don’t want to leave you alone. We came together!” She clasps your hand in hers and you smile touched by her kind spirit.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll go to the kitchen to get some drinks. Go have fun!”

“You are sure?” She asks, her eyes darting between you and Jeongin, who was still looking at her, and her only. 

“Yes! Go!” You say, gently pushing her away. Mina jogs up to Jeongin who greets her with a side hug. He quickly glances at you and you shoot him a thumbs-up, to which he grins. You loved playing Cupid.

With that, you decide to head to the kitchen to grab a drink. You pick a beer from the fridge, double-checking if the can is closed before opening it. 

You lean on the countertop, sipping on your drink while you watch the crowd, humming along each time a song you knew played. You enjoyed watching people dance freely from afar, with no apparent care in the world.

You feel someone stand next to you and you brace yourself, getting ready to tell the person off if they decide to bother you. You didn’t have the energy for mindless flirting. But then, you smell the cologne that has lingered around you for the past term- Minho. You haven't seen him since your dinner. That was a month ago.

"Fancy seeing you here," he greets as he leans on the counter right next to you, his eyes fixated on the mingling bodies.

You turn around to face him, faking an outraged gasp, "Are you following me?"

"Mmm. You look nice", he compliments and you smile cheekily, "I know."

"Won't tell me I look nice too?" he smirks, leaning closer to your face. "Someone didn’t get enough compliments tonight?" You pout, placing a hand on your heart in mock concern.

"I did, but I want to hear it from you. You’re the only sensible person in this room."

"You look nice. Now leave me alone."

"Come on, I know you can do better than that", he jokes and you roll your eyes, muttering “You’re annoying”, under your breath.

Still, you comply, placing your arms on top of the counter and leaning your head on them to get a better look at him. He does the same, smiling, and you both stare at each other for a while after that.

The strobing lights dance on Minho’s face, casting enticing shadows on him. You've always known he was a beautiful man; you've looked into his eyes far too many times in your heated conversations. But this time was different, there was no cheeky smirk on his face nor a furrow in his eyebrows. He was simply looking at you, and it made a pool of warmth huddle in your belly. You feel yourself relax under his gaze, everything around you seemingly melts away.

You weren’t wrong when you thought that his eyes were like a black hole, pulling you in. But this time, you realize that you didn’t mind knowing what was on the other side. On the contrary, you longed for it. 

"I like your eyes right now. They remind me of the night sky. Black, with tiny little stars littered in them," you finally say.

Minho is taken aback by your words, he wasn't expecting you to compliment him, let alone to tell him something so special. He can feel his cheeks burn red at your words, feel his heart hammering in his chest. He's afraid you can hear it too.

He doesn't know what to say, so instead he clears his throat, plastering a smirk on his face, "I heard better." He hasn't. This is the first genuine compliment he's ever gotten.

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh and he joins you. The music was loud and yet the only sound his ear seemed to pick up was your laugh.

"Are you here alone?" He asks, and you shake your head no, "Came with my friend Mina."

"Did she leave you by yourself?" He frowns and you feel yourself warm up at his worried tone. "I told her to go talk to Jeongin."

"Next time, don’t stay alone."

“Fine, Dad.” You chastise and he stares pointedly at you, "I’m serious, yn."

You take another swing of the beer before turning your body fully towards Minho. After a few beats of silence, you finally ask a question that has been on your mind for a while. "Why do you say my name this way?"

"What way?" He questions and you shrug, "Slowly. People used to always rush it but you don’t."

"Well, it’s a pretty name. It deserves to be pronounced as a whole."

You beam at his words; you smile so brightly it makes his heart skip a beat. This is the first time you’ve grinned this widely at him, no hand in front of your mouth as if to hide it. He did notice how you were a reserved person outside of class, as if you were afraid of taking up too much place. But he could tell you were slowly unraveling, growing bolder with each passing month. He wanted to tell you that if people like you spoke more, the world would be a far better place. 

But he couldn't bring himself to say all of this, so he forced those bubbling words down his throat. "I’m hungry," he whines instead and you laugh at his pout. "I'm kind of craving a greasy pizza."

"Should we go buy it? You can tell Mina to come so we can walk her back."

"I’ll ask her."

You shoot Mina a text, asking her where she was and telling her about your plan. She replies that she’s with Jeongin who just offered to take her home, so you could leave without her.

"We can go." You tell him and he nods. Minho shrugs his leather jacket off, gently placing it on your shoulders. His warmth engulfs you and you sink further into it. His arm hovers around your shoulder not touching you as he leads you out of the party. He has never touched your body, you note, it's like he was everywhere and nowhere at once.

You both walk to an open parlor near the frat house, and you order a Margarita pizza to share. You sit down on a nearby bench to eat it- the night breeze too liberating to pass up on.

As you both finish eating, a cat with white and orange stripes all over her body approaches the both of you cautiously, and you pat her head softly. "Aren't you the cutest thing ever?" you coo and Minho chuckles as he scratches the cat’s chin. She purrs at his touch appreciatively, and you smile at the soft look on his face. 

"Never knew you to be this gentle", you giggle and Minho shushes you, "Let's not do this in front of the cat."

"Why are you acting as if we are a divorced couple and she’s our child."

"Easy, yn. You make it sound as if you want me to marry you."

"Now you're just projecting," you chastise and he laughs, eliciting giggles from you. He had a melodic laugh, you noticed, and you always felt a surge of pride whenever you made him close his eyes and tip his head from laughter. You felt as if it's a sight only you can see.

"I have three cats", he says softly and you gasp, "Really? We spent all of our Sundays in a cat café and this is when you tell me?"

"I only tell my friends."

"So we're friends now?" You gush and he rolls his eyes at you, "I take it back."

"What’s their names?" You ask curiously and his eyes soften at your question- you could easily tell he loved them dearly.

"Soongie, Doongie, and Dori. They are rescues."

"That’s very sweet of you Minho."

"Most of my scars come from them though," he chuckles but you sober up at his words, quietly scratching the cat's ears.

"What’s on your mind?" He asks and you glance at him. It was scary how well he’s starting to know you. But it was also nice; to be known is to exist, after all.

"I just... Sometimes I wish that memories would leave physical scars on you. Because at least then, you could treat them, put a band-aid on, and watch them fade away day by day. Because when the scars are emotional, you can’t treat them, you know? And someday someone brings up a name or a place, or you smell a certain scent, and suddenly they reopen as if no time has gone by at all.”

Minho stays silent for a while, mulling over your words. You don't mind, you weren't expecting him to comfort you. You just needed to free those words from the mental prison you've held them in for so long.

"Do you know Kintsugi?" he finally asks and you shake your head no.

"It's a Japanese art. They put back together broken vases with molten gold. It represents strength despite our flaws."

"That sounds nice," you sigh wistfully and he nods. 

"It is. When you look at that vase, you know that it was once broken, but it doesn't take away from its beauty, on the contrary, it adds to it. Scars, whether they are emotional or physical are there for a reason. They remind us of how we pushed through whatever life threw at us."

"Am I supposed to be grateful I survived this?" You chuckle lowly, as your hand scratches the cat’s ear. Your fingers brush against Minho’s and you hesitate for a few seconds before moving them away.

"I wouldn't say grateful for what you went through," he speaks once again, "but grateful to yourself. At the end of the day, the reason why you're still here is you. You put yourself back together," he then bumps his elbow into your side softly, "and hey, even if your scars reopen there will come a time when they wouldn’t anymore. Sometimes, it takes a while to be okay again."

This was Minho’s way of telling you that someday it wouldn’t hurt anymore. That someday you’d be okay. And you needed to hear that. You needed to hear someone else other than yourself tell you that.

"Thank you, Minho, I needed that", you smile at him and he grins back at you before his smile turns to a smirk. "I charge 15 dollars for the hour by the way."

"Oh, come on! You didn't even say something revolutionary." You are lying. Minho's words will echo in your mind long after this night- a beacon of light to hold onto.

"Oh, so now it’s no longer ‘I needed that’. Tsk," he jokes a smirk still plastered on his face.

"Okay, Mr. Therapist. I’ll pay for your coffee tomorrow, sounds good?"

"I should have you as my client more often," he winks and you laugh, head tipped back. You were grateful more than ever for his teasing, loving how it wasn’t awkward between you after your discussion.

"You are a good listener." You tell him as you stand up, dusting your pants.

"I’m good at everything," he grins cheekily at you and you roll your eyes playfully, "And here I thought we were having a moment."

You both start walking side by side toward your home when Minho speaks again. His tone is quiet as if he wasn’t sure he wanted you to hear him. "About earlier, your compliment, I mean. I suppose I didn't thank you. So, thank you," he scratches the tip of his ears and you shrug nonchalantly. "It's the truth. You might get on my ass but that doesn't change the fact you are a pretty man."

He doesn’t respond and you tug at the sleeve of his shirt playfully, "You won't tell me I’m pretty too?"

"But then I’d be lying."

"Asshole."

"Pretty," he replies without missing a beat.

You laugh loudly, hand tightly clutching your stomach and he joins you. There is a newfound lightness in your steps now. Unbeknownst to him, Minho just managed to lift a small weight off your shoulders, allowing you a brief moment of respite.

"This is me," you say when you arrive in front of your apartment block, "Thank you for walking me home."

"Of course. Don't dream of me."

"Idiot," you laugh waving him off and he does the same. "Oh, and text me when you get home safely!" you shout before heading inside.

For the second time this night, Minho is blushing profusely at your words. He sighs to himself, waiting patiently until a light turns on in your place to leave.

✹✹✹

It’s been two months since the start of the new term. You still went to Limbo, every Saturday with Minho- even when you didn’t need to study. 

Sometimes you’d just grab a book and you’d both read, a cat lazily lounging at your feet. You started sitting at the same table too; you figured it was easier since one of you always pays for the other. When you have a bet, but also randomly, when you notice that the other person is feeling down and you want to cheer them up without saying anything.

That's why you bought three bubble teas for Minho in a row. He was quieter these days, you noticed. He didn’t talk to you nor did he retort back in class. It was the first time you’ve seen him this way. As if he was a simple shell of the person he usually is. 

You were walking out of your Communications Strategies class, which Minho weirdly didn’t come to when you realized that it was pouring rain. You smile lightly to yourself, grateful since you thought about picking up an umbrella this morning. 

As you walk through campus, everyone around you running to take shelter, you spot someone sitting on a bench, completely drenched from the rain. Their head is hung low and you frown to yourself. They would surely get a cold if they stay there.

But then the person raises their head and you quickly realize it's Minho. You jog up to him instinctively, standing in front of him and shielding him from the rain with your umbrella.

He looks up at you and you feel your heart clench. His eyes are void of emotion and he stares blankly at you. "Are you okay?" you ask and he blinks at your words, as if his brain hadn't yet registered that you were there.

"Yeah."

"You don't look like it", you tilt your head to the side and he looks down again. You have to strain to hear his next words, muffled by the rain and his mumbling, "I don't want to talk, yn."

You decide to put away your umbrella and sit down next to him on the bench. The rain falls rapidly on both of you, and you feel yourself grow cold from it. 

"What are you doing?" He questions, turning to the side to look at you.

"Enjoying the rain. It is kind of stupid that we have umbrellas, right?"

"You'll catch a cold."

"I mean we always complain about the drought and then when it rains, we hide from it. But it's really beautiful."          

"Stop, I don't want you to get sick."

"Well, neither do I. Let's go eat some soup. My treat."

"Yn, I don’t-"

"I thought you were smart enough to know I won't take no for an answer."

"But I-" you cut him off again. "Also, I’m doing this for me because when you order for two, they give you a lot of side dishes. Now come on."

You stand up and he looks doubtfully at you, before following suit. You open up the umbrella again and hold it over both of your heads. He has to huddle close to you, and your shoulders brush against each other. Once, twice. Not that you're keeping count. But your body is always hyper-aware of Minho’s proximity. You also notice how he silently moves from your right to your left, this way he's the one walking right next to the speeding cars. Your hold on the umbrella tightens. You were still not used to those small attentions of his. 

You arrive in front of your apartment block and he hesitates. "Come up, I won't murder you I promise." You joke and he smiles lightly back at your words. Progress.

He enters your dorm and you can see him eying his surroundings. You know that if it was another time, he would have teased you about something- anything. But he stays quiet, and you find yourself missing the sound of his voice.

"Would you like to shower?" You offer and he nods, "Please."

You lead him to your bathroom and show him where the washing machine is. "Put your clothes in there for a quick wash and dry. You can shower meanwhile."

He nods again as you hand him a towel. "I'll be outside."

You quickly leave the bathroom to place the soup orders, and Minho discards his wet clothes, walking into your shower. The water is piping hot, and he leans his forehead on the cold tiles. He doesn’t move for the first ten minutes, too tired at the prospect of lifting his limbs.

Nothing particular happened. But he’d go through days when he’d quiet down because everything around him was too much. The feel of his clothes against his skin, and the sun streaming through his curtains. But it always passes. Minho was a realistic man and he knew that his emotions would regulate themselves. That’s why he didn’t like appearing vulnerable in front of other people.

But for some reason, he didn’t mind lowering his guard with you. He knew you wouldn’t judge.

He sighs, grabbing your cherry-scented shampoo and pouring it into his hands. He can clearly smell you now. The scent of your hair that always tickles his nose, whenever you are sitting close to him. Your body wash is next and he wonders if this is how your skin smells, like vanilla and jasmine, and something entirely you. 

Forty minutes later, Minho finally steps out of the shower. His clothes are clean and he quickly puts them on. He dries his hair with the towel as he walks out of your bathroom towards the living room. 

He finds you sitting on the ground, in front of a heater that looks close to giving up. He makes a mental note of giving you the one he has since he doesn't really use it. You changed out of your clothes too, and you are now wearing a pair of pajamas with little bunnies sewn into it. The sight almost manages to make him smile. 

"Still cold?" you question when you notice him standing behind you, unmoving, and he shakes his head no.

"Good, the soup is here." You say cheerfully, pointing at the steaming bowls sitting on your table. Minho hums in reply and you stand up, grabbing the towel from his hands to place it on the drying rack.

You come back, a soft green blanket in your hands. You sit on the couch and pat the spot beside you. Minho sits next to you, and you lay the blanket on both of your laps, before handing him his soup.

You start the show you’ve been last watching, as you both eat in silence, your legs crisscrossed. You make some comments throughout the episodes. You figured that it was a safe territory, to talk about something as mundane as this. He didn't reply but you didn't mind. You weren't here to have a conversation with him. You just wanted to distract him.

You realize at that moment that Minho always looked so put together to you. But he had problems of his own too. That much was obvious. It made you feel closer to him, in a sense. You were both just trying to make it through the day.

Two hours later, you get up to grab a book, handing Minho the remote to put on a show of his own. You curl in a ball in the corner, reading where you left off last night.

"Can you... Can you read out loud?" Minho speaks for the first time in a while and you look at him. His eyes are closed, his head resting against your couch.

"Sure."

You start to read, and Minho further sinks into the couch. He feels at home here. Because the blanket is soft and the light is dim enough to not hurt his eyes. Or it could be that he smells like you, a scent so comforting he wants to bury himself in it. Or maybe it's your voice that floats through the air, slowly clouding Minho’s every sense. He feels as if he could see the words you were pronouncing dancing in front of his eyes. You enunciated each syllable clearly, making sure that no sound was forgotten.

As Minho gently drifted to sleep, he felt as if he was part of the words you read out loud. He felt as if you were treating him with the same care, making sure that he knew he wasn't invisible. At least not to you.

When you wake up the next morning, Minho is gone. And his place beside you on the couch is empty. He made you breakfast, scrambled eggs, and freshly pressed orange juice. And right next to it you find a note, "Thank you for reading to me."

✹✹✹

Minho didn't believe in having a lot of friends. He was content with the two people he had, Chan and Changbin. The latter was his high school friend, he skipped a year and ended up being in the same class as Minho. They didn't talk at first until the day Changbin dropped a book on Minho's foot. The brooding man started apologizing profusely, and that was the start of their friendship. They've kept in touch since.

Chan was his roommate at university. It's not that he particularly wanted to befriend him, but Chan was a social butterfly and he quickly managed to pull Minho into his friendly trap. He annoys Minho the most, but in an endearing way. And although Chan is older, Minho still strangely developed a soft spot for him. 

And he supposes he has you too now. At first, you weren’t friends, rivals at most. He enjoyed reeling you up and having you frown at his words in your heated debates. He also liked talking to you, because your ideas were interesting and you always gave him a new fresh perceptive to see things.

That’s how he strictly saw you as, an intelligent human who he liked to debate with.

But then he started to look forward to meeting up with you at Limbo. He no longer minded the fact that you took his self-assigned table, from his high school days. And he laughed more freely with you, enjoying how you always had a witty retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. 

That’s how he started to notice things that friends most definitely notice. How you have a charm bracelet you always fidget with whenever you are nervous. How you stray away from physical touch. How you scratch your eyebrow when you are deep in thought.

But also, how you seem to have an obsession with cherries. Your cherry pendant, your cherry-scented shampoo, and your cherry-tainted lips. A friend would most certainly think that your lips are like red wine-stained glass.

He remembers one of the many times when you were at Limbo, and he saw you reapply your lip tint, or so you called it. You caught him looking and he swiftly averted his gaze, but it wasn't quick enough. Suddenly you were in front of him, a tiny red bottle in hand.

"Let me apply it to you," you smiled and he pushed your head away with his pointer finger. "No."

"Please," you pouted and he couldn't help but find you adorable. You sometimes reminded him of a small kitten. But he didn’t dare to call you by that nickname. 

"Never."

"If I score more than you in our environmental assignment then I will do it."

"Fine." he huffed so that you'd leave him alone.

Minho didn't study for that assignment. He blamed it on a headache, not that it's ever stopped him before. And two weeks later you were in front of him, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. You applied the lip tint gently on his plump lips, carefully tracing over his cupid bow. 

Your face was mere inches away from his and he noticed how you were wearing a gloss today, for change. It was shimmering under the lights and he usually didn't like glittery things, but he couldn't take his eyes off your lips. 

"All done!" you clapped excitedly, snapping him out of his haze. You then shove your phone camera into his face so he'd look at the results.

"You should be a model. Your face is perfectly sculpted," you comment nonchalantly, before sitting back in your seat. 

“I know.” He replies confidently, but his hand kept fiddling with the tip of his now pink ears. He couldn't concentrate for the rest of the night.

You were his friend because he always worried if you were eating enough. That’s why he urged you to grab a bite in the convenience store near Limbo, whenever you finished up your studying late.

This was one of the many times you sat on the minuscule table outside, hot ramen bowls in front of the both of you. Minho huffed in annoyance between each bite, his bangs were getting longer, disturbing him when he leaned down to slurp his noodles. 

“Here,” you stand up from your place, a hair tie in your hands. 

“What are you doing?” He questions as you stand behind him. You don’t reply, silently grabbing his hair and putting it up in a tiny ponytail, this way it wouldn’t get in his eyes anymore.

“Voila,” you sit back down, resuming your eating. Minho was grateful for the dimly lit street because his entire face was burning up. Your fingers in his hair were gentle and he wondered how it would feel if you ran your fingers through it. 

This was something friends think about, right? 

"I’ll cut my hair tomorrow," he clears his throat. He didn't know why he told you. You certainly weren't interested in his hair endeavors.

"What?!" you yell, "Don't. Your hair is beautiful why would you cut it?"

"Because it's getting longer."

"But it suits you."

Minho also noticed how you always threw compliments his way. Not in a flirtatious way, but in a genuine one. He couldn't help but wonder what made you this way. Did you so freely give love to others because you knew how it felt to not receive it?

"I’ll still cut it."

Minho returned home; his hair still clipped back in a ponytail. Chan eyed him weirdly but he shut him off with a glare. The elastic remained at his bedside since.

He didn't cut his hair.

The moment Minho started to consider you a close friend, was when you invited him over to watch your show. You didn’t force him to open up that night, and he appreciated it, more than he let on.

That's how a week later, he finds himself walking towards your dorm again. The thoughts in his head got too much, and Chan was immersed in his makeshift studio, which meant he won't be free for the next four hours, minimum.

He didn't plan on going to you. It was late at night and you were probably asleep, but his feet naturally led him to the direction of your place.

He knocks softly on your door. He wasn't even sure if he wanted you to open. What would you think of him showing up at eleven pm? He should have thought this thro-

"Minho?" you call out, and he startles a bit, his feet already inching away from the door.

"This was a bad idea, I'm sorry," he starts to retract back but you grab the hem of his jacket to stop him. "Do you... Do you want to watch my show with me?" you ask, a soft smile on your face and he nods tentatively.

"Okay, come in," you open the door wider and Minho follows you inside. The look in his eyes reminds you of the day you found him sitting under the rain. You didn't like it, you wanted him to find his spark back, his usual demeanor. He wasn't deserving of anything but happiness.

"I’ve started a new show, this one's a bit more romantic, so don't go around imagining me as the main character," you tease and he scoffs at your words, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He doesn't reply, but you don't mind. There was this secret agreement between the two of you, you would talk and he would listen. He needed the distraction, and you needed the company. Sometimes the line between alone and lonely blurs, and on days like these, Minho’s presence fills the void inside.

You comment on the scenes and Minho hums in reply, you watch three episodes in a row, and your eyes are getting drowsy, so you close them.

"Minho," you call out gently and he turns his head towards you.

"Yeah?"

"What color are you feeling tonight?" You ask, referencing to what he told you on your dinner celebration. That felt like an eternity ago.

"Black." You stay silent and Minho fidgets with his hands before speaking once again. "I feel a lot at the same time, too much of every color. That's why- that's why I said black."

"How can I help you feel yellow?"

"You already do." His admission came softly and it made your breath hitch in your throat. You wanted to open your eyes and look at him, but you figured it will only make him close off even more.

“Okay. Will you stay for breakfast?”, you whisper. You were very sleepy, the soft chatter of the TV and your hushed conversation were like a lullaby to you. 

"You want me to?" he asks, and he sounds so vulnerable you can't find it in you to say anything but the truth.

"I do," you admit, and that's the last thing you remember before sleeping.

Your head falls near Minho’s lap on the couch, your hair tickling his exposed thigh. Minho shouldn’t feel this way, he thinks. He’s sitting on the leather couch and his feet are touching the cold floor and yet all he can feel is three strands of your hair tickling him.

He glances at you, at your now parted lips and your relaxed eyebrows. His hand hovers over your hair, but then he curls it into a tight fist. What is he doing? He thinks to himself as he drags an angry hand through his face. He sighs, before standing up and grabbing the blanket you had on the opposing chair. He gently lays it on your body before sitting next to you once again. 

You told him to stay for breakfast. He’ll stay.

✹✹✹

2 months later

"Yn!" Minho shouts in your ear as he plops down next to you. You startle, dropping the book you were reading. 

"I hate you," you grumble, picking up your book and he smiles cheekily at you, "No you don't."

You were laying on the grass of your campus garden, in between two classes, trying to kill the time. It was April so the weather was perfect for lying under the warm sunrays. You loved spring, it always held within it the promise of a better time. 

"What are you doing?"

"I was reading before you got here and started to annoy me." 

"Don't mind me. Do your thing." 

"And what are you doing?"

"Enjoying the sun."

"You couldn't find any other place to do so?"

"Nope."

"You're annoying" You try to sound mad but the smile on your face betrays you. You started looking forward to any moment Minho randomly shows up throughout your day. Sometimes it's late at night when he's suddenly craving sushi and he drags you with him because if he's not studying then you shouldn't be too. 

Sometimes it's during the day, when he takes you to a new garden where he found the quote "cutest cats in existence". Not as cute as his cats, of course. 

Sometimes it's late afternoon when he just knocks on your door, and he's there with Chan-his roommate who sometimes joins your study sessions- snacks in their hands. You've learned that what Minho doesn't say in words, he compensates by spending time with you. And you didn't tell him but waiting for these moments has been the joy of your life for the past few weeks.

It made you feel excited- like a child waiting up for Christmas morning to discover what gifts they are receiving. 

So, you resume reading, as Minho is lying next to you. You could smell his pinewood cologne and you wished you could pour his essence into a bottle and carry it with you everywhere. 

You notice how the sun is hitting Minho’s eyes directly, and how his eyebrows are scrunched up at the aggression. So, you grab your book with your left hand, and hover your right one over his eyes, shielding him from the sun. Minho's breath tickles your hand and you can feel goosebumps rising through your skin. 

It's as if every physical proximity with Minho made you feel hyperaware of every part of your body, and how he can lighten it with a simple breath from his part. It made you wonder what it would feel to have his hands on your skin.

As if Minho heard your thoughts, he gently wraps his thumb and index finger around your wrist, steadying your hand in place so it wouldn't strain your arm. You suddenly don't know what page you are in, too overwhelmed by the feeling of his hands on you. 

His touch is very featherlight and you are afraid to move, to break the bubble you are suddenly pulled into. 

"Read to me," he tells you and you gulp. You never understood why Minho enjoyed it when you read to him. 

"Like my voice that much?" you tease, in an attempt to hide how affected you are. You were so close to him; it would be easy to slide down and lay your head on his chest. You wondered how his heartbeat would sound. Was it steady, or racing just like your own? 

"Yeah, it's calming," he replies sincerely, catching you off guard. You didn't expect him to compliment you, and now you are racking your brain for a retort, anything to make you breathe again. 

"Growing soft on me Minho?" you say, the same question you asked on your first dinner out. The first time you truly saw him, the first time you felt as if you were two pieces of the same puzzle, just waiting for someone to connect the both of you. 

He doesn't reply. And you sit there, patiently waiting. His first answer came so easily, so naturally, because he was being sarcastic, "I’m basically in love with you", he told you back then. So why can't he say it again?

"Yes, I am." He finally replies and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You try to account it for your brain misguiding you. It wasn't Minho speaking, it was the rustling of the leaves and the singing of the birds that you just heard. But it was him, and now his eyes are open and he's looking at you. Your hand is still shielding his eyes and his fingers are still wrapped around your wrist. And you are suddenly feeling. You are feeling too much. You don't know what to do with those feelings cursing through your veins and you can't face them. Because they are scaring you.

"I'll just... Yeah, I’ll just read," you say quietly, too flustered by his intense gaze. You were already on the other side, you realize. His eyes pulled you in and you were stuck in there, swimming in a pool of honey. 

"Out loud," he says and you chuckle, "Fine, Min." The nickname slips out of your tongue naturally and you quickly snap your head towards Minho to see if he noticed. 

His eyes are closed, and there is a slight smile on his face, and you can swear that he just repeated the nickname to himself softly. 

✹✹✹

You've been so sick these past days, you barely managed to go to class. Your head throbbed with pain and your entire body felt as if someone thoroughly boxed it. 

You were grateful that Minho reeled down his teasing because you had no energy to retort back. He may have noticed how sick you felt and truthfully it would be hard not to. You stayed silent throughout the day, and you looked so pale, you avoided looking at the mirror altogether.

Though Minho didn't talk to you, he still silently placed water bottles and some of your favorite snacks on your desk. You'd down the water, grateful for the relief it brought your sore throat. And when you didn't touch the food, he'd immediately text you 'Eat up', followed by a simple 'Please'. Having someone else care for your well-being felt weird, but it warmed your heart beyond what words could describe. 

You only came today to pass your Criminal Law mid-term, but your head hurt so badly that you weren't even sure what you wrote on your paper. The words blurred in front of your eyes and you almost slept in the middle of your exam, exhaustion threatening to take over your body. 

You fucked up, badly. You haven't screwed up this much in years.

You thought that you were slowly getting better since Minho surpassing you no longer sparked an unworthy feeling within you. But apparently, you were wrong to believe so. Self-doubt crept up within you once again, and the ugly feelings it stirred slowly clawed at your throat, making it hard for you to breathe.

It was one test, and yet it reeled you back ages ago. 

Tears threaten to spill out of your eyes as you hurriedly walk out of your class. You make a beeline for the library, figuring that it will be mostly empty by now. 

You pull out a chair and sit on it, lowering your head down so no one will see you. Your tears are falling rapidly and you hit your thigh repeatedly.  You hated how weak you felt in that instant. 

"Yn?", someone calls out and you curse internally. You don't have to look up to see who it is, Minho's voice has become a part of you- you could easily recognize it between a thousand mingling sounds. 

You don't want him to see you, especially not like this, weak and vulnerable and on the verge of breaking down. So you quickly slip a pair of sunglasses on your eyes, before raising your head to look at him. "Hm?"

"Are you okay?" he asks, his tone so soft it makes you want to cry ten times fold. You hated it, hated how attentive he was to you. You didn't deserve it. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm just here to pick a book," you lie, abruptly standing up and heading toward the rows behind you. You desperately needed to get away from him. 

You pause in front of a random shelf and then you feel Minho standing behind you. You grab a random book and he peeks above your shoulder to see it, "Economics? You hate this subject."

"Why are you following me?" you turn around attempting your best to sound mad. When in reality, your heart was brimming with hurt. You wished you could get away from your body and seep into someone's soul to feel what it's like to love yourself.

"You aren't okay," he asserts and you hate it. You hate that he sounds so sure of himself. Was it that noticeable? Were you not fooling anyone?

"I am," your voice is shaking but you are adamant about contradicting him. You couldn't let him see you. What if he runs?

"Then..." he steps forward and you take a step back until your back is against the shelf. His left arm cages your body, but his right one stays by his side. He is leaving you an opening, you realize, an outing in case you feel uncomfortable. Against all odds, you don't.

 "Why are you hiding from me?" he asks, gently taking your sunglasses off your face, and placing them on the top of your head.

You don't look up at him, and he hooks his finger underneath your chin, gently raising your head. When your tear-stained eyes meet his, he frowns deeply, "Why are you crying?"

"it's nothing."

"Yn..."

"I fucked up, okay?! That was the worst test I’ve ever given in years." The tears start to flow at your words and you wipe them away aggressively. You despised crying in front of people. 

Minho raises his hand to wipe the tears away for you but he quickly retracts it- you probably wouldn't want him to touch your face. It was enough that he had grabbed your wrist a couple of weeks before this. He quickly racks his brain for something to do, because the sight of your tears is making his heart ache in a way he hasn't felt before. It's as if he's feeling your emotions deep within him.

In desperation, Minho pinches your arm and you yelp, startled. "What was that for?" you whisper-shout and he raises his hands in defense, "I didn't know what else to do."

"So, you thought about pinching me?" you chuckle in bewilderment and he scratches the top of his hair sheepishly. 

"I mean, it worked. Look, you stopped crying," he points out raising his brows at you proudly and you shake your head at him.

"Remind me to never cry in front of you again." 

Minho grins at you before his face turns serious once again. "Look, you are the smartest person I know," he pauses, adding with a cheeky smirk, "After me of course." Which makes you giggle against your will. 

"Shut up", you lightly punch his chest and he smiles. "One test doesn't define you. You always work very hard. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Mm," you hum and he frowns at your lack of enthusiasm, but still, he doesn't comment. 

"No more crying," he wiggles his finger in front of your face and you roll your eyes, wiping the rest of your tears away. "Fine. Pretend as if this never happened."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as if confused, and you can't help the smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. It's as if Minho knows exactly what to say to cheer you up. 

"Come with me," he tells you, gently pulling you by the sleeve of your hoodie. 

"Where to?"

"I’m craving ice cream."

"And why do you need me?"

"You're craving ice cream too," he says in a matter-of-a-fact tone. 

"Only if you're paying," you add with a giggle and he whines loudly, "I feel so so used around you." 

True to his words, Minho takes you to the nearest ice cream parlor. It's a 20 minutes walk away and you are grateful for the distance because it helps you clear your head a bit.

Minho lets you pick whatever flavors you want, and when you hesitate between two of them, he tells the cashier to put them both into your cup. This is how you end up with a container of 5 scoops of ice cream. You insisted you'd share, and Minho begrudgingly agreed when you threatened to walk out and leave him.

You then walk to a deserted alley and sit on the sidewalk. You didn't want to be around people right now, and thankfully, Minho understood without you having to say a word.  

You munch silently on your ice cream and Minho does the same, the both of you lost in your thoughts. You naturally take turns holding the freezing container, so it wouldn't numb the fingers of one of you.

When you're done, Minho stands up to throw it away in a nearby trashcan before sitting back again next to you. 

Suddenly you feel him gently tapping your hand. You look down to find that you've curled your fingers into a tight fist, so much that there are crescent indents visible on your palm now. 

"Let's play thumb war," he tells you and you giggle at his words. You never knew what to expect from him. 

Still, as your fingers hold each other, and your thumb circles one another, you feel yourself calm down slightly. You play a couple of rounds, and you know he's going easy on you, allowing you to quickly trap his thumb down. 

No one has gone to such lengths to cheer you up, and you suddenly feel so grateful for Minho’s presence in your life. You didn't care in what shape he was in, you just needed him to be in it. Which in turn makes you think how bad it'd hurt if he ever leaves. 

You don't want Minho to leave. You've gotten so attached to him that the thought of not talking to him again makes your heart race in panic. 

Minho notices the change in your expression, suddenly melancholic once again. Your hand has gone limp in his, the thumb war long forgotten by you. 

He curses under his breath, before looking at you. "If I dance for you, will you quit being so sad?"

"Dance for me?" you repeat incredulously and he nods, "Yes. I’ll show you an upcoming choreography just... Please smile?" 

"Okay," you giggle, plastering a wide grin on your face. 

"Not like that you look scary."

"Get to dancing!" you clap excitedly and he rolls his eyes, standing up and looking through his phone for a particular music. 

"Oh and no comment!" he looks pointedly at you, and you nod, pretending to zip your mouth and throwing away the key. 

'Finesse' by Bruno Mars starts playing and you are left mesmerized by the way Minho dances. It's short but it leaves you yearning to see more. His body moves smoothly, hitting each beat effortlessly. He made it look as if dancing was second nature to him, that it came as easily to him as breathing. 

You were speechless, rightfully so. You wished you could build a world where all Minho did was dance. 

"That was-" you start when he stops the music but he cuts you off instantly, "I said no comment."

"But--" Minho places his finger on your mouth to silence you, seemingly not thinking too much of it. But the feel of his finger on your lips makes you dizzy. Minho quickly takes off his hand, a blush evidently creeping up his neck. 

"Let's just go home," he sighs in defeat and you laugh despite the intense feelings cursing through you.

You don't know if you are imagining it but you swear that your pinkies brush against each other on your walk back. As if there was this magnetic force pulling them together. You wondered what would happen if you just linked your pinky with his. Would he grab you by the hand or will he let go of you entirely?

You were too much of a coward to find out. You were scared of messing up anything with him. So, you'd settle for this. Stolen glances and random outings. You just need him in your life. 

"Thank you for today," you tell Minho once you arrive and he shrugs, as what he did wasn't a big deal.

"No, I mean it. Thank you," you repeat, trying your best to convey how sincere you were being. You take in a deep breath, before grabbing his hand and squeezing it, for a fleeting second, before dropping it again. 

Minho is sure that your hand will now be imprinted into his, that the lines tracing over your palm will merge with his as one. Your touch was barely there but it had electrocuted him. He wondered to himself if his body would be able to handle more from you. But he'd gladly burn in your fires for the sake of holding you. And he'd wait, unwaveringly, as time stretches alongside the two of you. He'd wait as long as it takes for you. 

"Yn, I..." he stammers, taking a step closer to you. His scent engulfs you and you shamefully close your eyes, inhaling it. When you open them again, you find Minho glancing down at your lips. You gulp, dazzled by his proximity. 

"You have a mole on your nose," you suddenly speak up and his eyes snap back to yours, an adorable confusion drawn on his features. 

"I like that mole," you continue and you wish you could dig yourself a hole and bury yourself in it. 

"Thank you," he chuckles and you nod vigorously, "You're welcome." 

"Can I ask you something?" he says and your breath hitches in your throat. "Sure."

"You don't like it when people touch you, right?" 

"Yeah."

"Can I ask why?" 

You want to confide in him, to tell him that it’s because you long for it, you crave it so badly. That this need has woven itself into the very fabric of your being. An ache so raw that it scares you at times. You’ve never known what it feels like to be held- it was uncharted territory to you. 

"Isn't everyone scared of the unknown?" you settle on saying, and he nods in understanding. Of course, he understood. No one knows you as well as him. 

"It's okay. I just wanted to know if I ever overstepped my boundaries."

"You didn't," you reply instantly. 

"Good. You'll tell me if I ever do, right?"

"I will." 

"Okay." 

"Um. I'll get going," you point behind you and Minho smiles at you, waving you off.

You walk for a few steps before coming back again quickly. You then grab Minho’s hand, gently squeezing it like before, "You are an amazing dancer." 

And then you drop it, running back towards your apartment block without waiting for a reply. 

Minho stays frozen in his place. You think he's an amazing dancer. And you held his hand for five seconds. 

That's four seconds more than the first time. 

Progress.        

✹✹✹

You haven't gotten out of your house for the past three days. 

Everything crashed around you rapidly, it made you realize that the ground you once stood on was only an illusion, elusive and fleeting. 

You were doing well; you were getting better. But then Monday came and you went out for a walk in the park near you. As you sat there, you saw a little girl playing on the swings, delightful joy dancing across her features. But then she fell to the ground and you instinctively stood up to help her, only to notice her mother running to her. 

The world stilled around you as you clearly saw it- how the little girl clung to her mother's embrace, her embodiment of hope and love. You never had that. You don’t even know what perfume your mother used because she never allowed you to get that close to her. 

You stood up abruptly, quickly heading back to your apartment block. As you ran up the stairs, you ended up bumping into one of your neighbors. You were quick to apologize but they ignored you, and the feeling of being invisible came back to haunt you ten times fold. 

You knew you shouldn’t have done it, you knew you should have deleted your mother’s number when she sent you away to university without a backward glance, relieved at the thought of you getting a full-ride scholarship and not needing her anymore. But you didn’t, you kept her number in the hopes that she’d call. On your birthday, on holidays, on a random Thursday to tell you that she did remember who you are. 

With trembling hands, tears welling in your eyes, you dialed your mother’s number for the first time in a year. You didn’t know what you were expecting. Maybe she regrets it. Maybe she misses you. Maybe she didn’t find the courage to mend her wrongdoings and that's why she never called. 

"Hello?" her voice rang through your apartment. Goosebumps erupted on your arms and your hold on the phone tightened. Her voice took you back to memories you thought you had buried. How you spent countless nights yearning to hear the sound of her voice, how you regretted it once she spoke to attack you.

You hate her. You miss her. You want to hang up. You need to ask if she's doing okay. 

“Who is this?” Her voice was devoid of recognition, freezing you in your tracks. You felt as if a bucket of ice was thrown over your head, dousing the flame of hope that flickered in your heart. 

She deleted your number.

You quickly hung up, placing your phone down on the table. The tears refused to fall. It was as if your body had long anticipated this outcome, leaving only your wounded soul to bear the pain. 

Healing isn't linear, you've read about it in books and heard it in shows and movies. One step back doesn't mean that your entire progress is gone. You know this, you've memorized those sentences. So why do you not believe them? Why does it feel as if you can never be free from the past? Why does it feel as if you’ll always seek something out of her? 

Those questions roamed your mind for the past three days, making you too tired at the prospect of lifting your limbs, let alone leaving your apartment. You sent your two friends a text, telling them that you're sick so they wouldn't worry. Not that you believed they would. Nothing made sense to you anymore.

You laid on your bed in utter silence- a tense quiet that was disrupted on the third day by someone knocking on your door. You didn't know who was there; you just hoped that they'd leave you alone.

To your surprise, you open the door to find Minho, some notes in his right hand and a coffee in his left. He sends an easy smile your way. You don't smile back.

"What do you want?" your voice is cold, but Minho doesn't bristle. A cheeky smile settles on his lips as he leans on your doorway.

"You didn't come to class for the past three days, so I brought you the notes. So, you wouldn't think our competition is unfair."

"Competition," you chuckle coldly, heading inside your apartment, and he follows suit. You start to pace around furiously, and Minho looks at you worriedly. "Competition?" you repeat, the word dripping off your tongue like venom. You turn around, marching towards Minho and standing a few inches from him. "You know what? Fuck you and your competition!"

"Yn-"

"Did it ever occur to you that I never wanted a part in this competition? That all I wanted was to be left alone?" you say, growing louder as you jab your finger into his chest repeatedly. "I never wanted any of this! Do you understand? I never wanted to be this way," you shout angrily in his face.

The worried look in Minho’s eyes snaps you out of your haze. You realize that you are being utterly ridiculous lashing out at Minho, when the one person you are mad at is yourself. 

Your anger quickly deflates, leaving in its trail an agonizing sadness. It's so sudden that it knocks the breath out of you, and you clutch your chest as if it could soothe the burn in your heart. Suddenly you are twelve years old again, crying in your room because you feel like no one has ever loved you.

But this time you aren't alone. Minho is in front of you, and his eyebrows are so furrowed you want to lean forward to ease the tension between them. His eyebrows, you liked his eyebrows, they were arched, and they framed his eyes nicely, and his eyes are brown and so big, and they always look at you softly and why is it getting so hard to breathe-

"Did I do something to you? Whatever it is I’m sorry," Minho panics, cutting off your frantic train of thought. But now, the weight of guilt adds to your overwhelming emotions. You shouldn't have lashed out at him, he brought you coffee and you yelled at him. Maybe your mom was right after all.

You shake your head left and right furiously, your words coming out in hiccups. Since when did you start crying? "It isn't- it isn't you."

"Then let me help you-", he steps forward, hand outstretched, but you take three hurried steps back and wrap your hands around yourself protectively. "Don’t. Please, don't."

"Why are you pushing me away?" his tone isn't accusatory. You've learned time and time again that Minho wouldn't do anything that made you feel uncomfortable.

"You won't understand."

"Then make me."

"Because I’m afraid!" the words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. "I’m afraid if you ever hug me, I wouldn't be able to go back to hugging myself. I'd need you and I can't afford to need someone else."

You regret the words as soon as they fleet away from your mouth. He would look at you differently, he would find you pathetic and then he’d leave. And you wanted him to leave. But you also wanted him to stay. It was all so confusing. 

You felt as if your being was torn between two great forces, each one of them trying to win the war raging inside you. You wished someone else would make the decisions in your place, for once.

Minho places the coffee and notes on the ground before approaching you, his palms facing up in a gesture of surrender. "I won't leave you," he says softly. "I’ll be by your side for as long as you'll have me."

"Minho..." your voice catches in your throat as you utter his name- like a broken prayer. He stands before you, his eyes shimmering like the reflection of a river on a sunny day.

"Please, let me make it better." 

You nod tentatively and Minho comes even closer to you. He was treating you like one would with a wounded animal, giving you a chance to ultimately back out. But for once, you listen to what your heart has been yearning for. Your bones are aching to be held, to feel the warmth of a body against your own, to feel safe and secure. 

Minho embraces you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you to him. You slowly bring your arms up and lace them around his waist. You are afraid, deathly afraid. His grip is loose, and you almost can't feel him around you, but when you lay your head on his chest, he tightens his hold on you and you instinctively let out a sob. 

He's hugging adult you, the woman whose heart was once again broken by her mom. But he's also hugging little you, the girl who was craving affection from everyone around her. In that instant, Minho is hugging every single version of you that ever needed a hug. 

You were right to be scared because you don't want to let go, you want to stay in his arms because they feel safe, like a shield protecting you. You can't go back to not hugging Minho. 

The sensation is overwhelming and your knees buckle underneath you. But instead of holding you up, Minho falls to the ground with you, as if you are two inseparable pieces of one puzzle. He isn’t here to fix you, he’s here to break down with you and help you pick up the scattered pieces.

You think back to that night in the park when Minho told you about Japanese vases. At this moment, it dawns on you that Minho has found a way to become a part of you. He was the molten gold binding your broken parts together. He was the invisible thread stitching your wounds back together.

Who were you fooling? It was him; it was him all along. 

Minho rocks you gently as you cry and cry and cry. His hand finds your hair and he plays with it as you sob. He tells you you'll be okay, you'll feel better and you try to believe him, his words wrap around your bruises like a healing balm. 

"There, there, love. You are okay", he murmurs, tenderly patting your head. A fresh set of tears wells up in your eyes. Love.

"I’m sorry. I'm so sorry," you apologize as you pull away from his embrace. 

"Why are you apologizing? Is it because you wet my shirt? I don't mind," he reassures you with a smile and you shake your head. 

 "I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it," you explain through hiccups.

"It's okay, you weren't mad at me, were you?" he asks, wiping your tears away so gently with his thumbs, careful not to irritate the sensitive skin.

"No. Still, it isn't okay and I’m sorry. I'm so sorry." 

"Shh, don't apologize. It's okay." you look at him doubtfully and he rolls his eyes playfully, "Here I’ll even do your silly pinky promise, okay?" he laces his pinky with yours, but then he suddenly leans forward and places a chaste kiss on your thumb pad. "There, sealed forever."

You giggle faintly as a blush dusts your cheeks, "That's not how it works."

"I know."

Your giggle was far different from the ones Minho was accustomed to. It was small, and it didn't brighten up your face like usual. But he was grateful for it nonetheless. He realized how much he missed your laugh, and how all the other sounds in the world pale in comparison to it.

In that moment Minho thinks to himself that he'd do anything to make you smile again. He'd make a fool out of himself if it meant making you happy. He'd settle for a simple tug at the corners of your mouth, anything but the sadness that seemed etched in your face, as if it was blended into the colors that drew you.

You tentatively move around, before laying your head on his lap. Minho's hand instinctively finds your hair and he starts to gently play with it. It feels as if you've done this a million times before, when in fact it was the first. 

There was something wildly intimate about laying on the floor with the man who just comforted you. It made you want to spill all your secrets to him, one by one, and have him hug you through them.

"Did you mean it? When you said you'll stay?" you felt so vulnerable in his hold, as if he could twist you whoever he liked. But you trusted him. You trusted yourself with Minho.

"I did. Your walls are always up. It's hard to peek behind them. But I don't want to tear them down. I want you to slowly unbuild them. I want you to do it for yourself."

To do it for yourself, it's hard to even know who you are anymore. 

"I want to tell you."

"You don't need to."

"I know, but I want to."

"Okay. Take your time, kitten." he pats your head gently, and you try to sync your breathing to the rhythm of his touch. You were grateful that you were lying on his lap since you couldn't see his face. It made talking feel a little less daunting.

"On my 9th birthday... I was very excited. I'd been on my best behavior that month, trying to please my mom in the hope that, for once, we'd celebrate my birthday. Like a normal little family," you smile sadly, you were so hopeful back then.

"My birthday came, I woke up, excited. My mom was still asleep, nothing out of the ordinary. So, I made my breakfast and walked to my school. I wore my prettiest dress and put on pigtails with hair clips. It was my birthday after all," Minho smiles softly at your words, his hand now resting on your own.

"I got back home and waited for my mom to come back. She remembered my birthday, I thought. And then, she came but she didn't talk to me. So, I thought, oh a surprise party!" you chuckle, but this time the smile on Minho’s face is gone.

"It was then 11 pm, and the hope had slowly died in me. So, in my stupid innocent self, I went to my mom, and asked her "Did you forget my birthday?". And I remember... I remember the way she laughed. Cruelly. Like I had told her the funniest joke in the world. And then. Then she looked me dead in the eye and said 'I hate the fact that you are born. Why would I celebrate that?'"

Minho sucks in a deep breath at your words, and you exhale one right out. It felt comforting, to have someone else stomach the hurt for you. To take the weight off your shoulders, allowing you a few moments to breathe.

"I confronted her about it one day, but she said she doesn't remember saying that. It's funny how it was a random Thursday for her, but for me, it shaped my life." you smile bitterly, "I remember how jealous I was of the way the other kids talked about their mothers. They said the word so lightly. It must have reminded them of sunshine and ice cream and rainbows. But for me, it held an uncharacteristic heaviness to it. I grew to hate the word."

"I drove myself crazy, Min", you whisper and he brings you closer to his body, "was it me or was it her? When did it start? Was it because I was too loud as a child or maybe too quiet? Did I not cater to her fantasies of a kid? I wanted to remember every single thing that happened throughout my childhood, thread through every single memory. I tried to pinpoint the exact moment my mom stopped loving me."

Minho squeezes your hand tightly in his, and you feel as if he was pulling you away from the memory that had long trapped you. You were now watching it unfold from outside of the window, your hand in his, safe from the hurt it had inflicted on you.

"It's not you. It could never be you. Some people are simply not fit to be parents. It's never their kid's fault."

Minho tries his best to keep his touch soothing, to make his voice sound as soft as possible. But he was angry, he was so angry at the world for not taking care of you when you were younger. His heart broke, thinking of 9-year-old you being told such cruel words.

He wanted to turn back time and tell you that you were enough. He wanted to make the pain that seemed so anchored in you float back to the surface, and dissipate like sea foam meeting the shore.

But he couldn't do that. All he could do is comfort present you.

Minho gently pulls you up from his lap, making you sit upright. He crisscrosses his legs and you do the same. Your knees brush against each other and you feel a shiver run down your spine. You didn't know that even knees could emanate such warmth.

"Yn, look at me. The world wouldn't be the same without you in it," he cradles your face between his hands, "You hear me yn? I’m so thankful you exist."

His doe brown eyes are sincere, and it made you want to believe him badly. That's a good start, right?

"I’ll be back," he tells you, letting go of your face and standing up.

You hear Minho rummaging through the kitchen and you take the time to calm yourself down. Sharing those parts of you with Minho felt therapeutic. As if you were healing parts of your inner child. You have never talked about this with anyone before, maybe this is why it still hurt as badly.

Minho comes back five minutes later, his hands behind his back. You raise a brow at him inquisitively and he just smiles secretly at you. "Close your eyes," he tells you and you giggle, doing as he says. He crouches in front of you, and you hear him shuffle in his place for a bit.

Then, "Open your eyes yn," and you find him, in front of you, a cupcake you had stored in your fridge in his hands, and a makeshift candle lit up. "Happy 9th birthday, love. You did well."

You stare at him in utter bewilderment. You couldn't believe your eyes. How could this man be so thoughtful? He was wishing you a belated birthday, to compensate for the 9th birthday you didn't celebrate.

You panic, at the look in his eyes. You've never seen it, never dared to dream of it, of someone caring for you unconditionally. So, you try to scare him, to push him away. You didn't want him to regret knowing you.

"There are things I need you to know um", you chuckle nervously, "When I... When I throw up, I hold my hair, and when I’m sick I nurse myself back to health, and when I have a nightmare I- I hold my hand in the dark. It will be hard for me to hold yours instead."

"We'll start a finger at a time, yeah?"

"It will take time."

"I have time," he speaks easily, as if loving you was effortless and not a strenuous task. You couldn't fathom it.

"You are too busy-", he cuts you off instantly, "Not for you." 

"The world doesn't stop because we need it to." Your voice is quiet; this is your very last try. You are tired of fighting. You are putting down your armor and waving a white flag.

"We'll make it stop. Here, the two of us. On this floor. We'll take as long as we need to."

"I never deemed you as an optimist", you smile a little, a hint of teasing in your tone.

"I’m not," he pauses, gazing down at the cupcake between his hands and then at you. "But I feel that we deserve a bit of happiness together, don't we?"

"We do."

"Then make a wish."

You close your eyes for a few seconds, before blowing on the candle.

"What did you wish for?" he asks a fond smile on his face.

The answer came naturally to you, you didn't even need to think about it. "I wished for you."

Minho's lips come crashing down on yours, and you imagine that this is what it feels like to see colors for the first time. To discover a new world beyond the one you've always known.

The kiss isn't urgent nor feverish, it is one of comfort. Your lips spilling the words you have not yet said to each other. "I love you," he kisses you, "I love you too," you kiss him back. "I need you to stay," you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, "I’m never leaving you," he opens his mouth allowing you entrance.

As you kiss him, you remember a fact you once learned in high school. The human body possesses seven trillion nerves. And for the first time in your life, you feel as if each of these nerves is alive. You feel that even the smallest atom is electrocuted with Minho’s love and it’s all you know within you.  

You feel as if the pain, the hurt, and the ache you've been through are slowly unraveled, and in their place, a timid happiness is starting to bloom. You imagine that when Minho’s lips met your own, the seven trillion nerves inside you exhaled in relief 'We've made it', they said, 'we'll finally be okay.'

Epilogue

You've always thought that epilogues were useless. How can you resume the rest of your life in one sentence, boil down the rest of your existence in mere pages? Because life doesn't stop at the epilogue, and a new book can start once again, right where you left it off.  

But with Minho, you didn't mind an epilogue. On the contrary, you longed for a soft one. You wanted to rest on this last page, you wanted to lay your worries on the words and tuck them into the syllables. And you wanted to wake up anew.

And this wasn't the end of your story with Minho. A lot happened after it. But it didn't worry you, because epilogues are about the one thing that doesn't change throughout the long march of time. And luckily for you, that constant was Minho’s love for you. From that day he held you, he has never let go.

It took time, for his warmth to seep through your bones. It took time, for your heart to forget the cold. But you wanted to do it. With him. You wanted to love and be loved.

The sound of cats mewling fills your apartment, pudding can always be found in your fridge and you haven't felt invisible in years.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz oneshots #skz recs #skz reactions #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee minho x reader #minho x reader #minho fluff #minho fanfic #minho angst #skz au #skz x you #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #lee know scenarios #stray kids fic #skz soft hours

[enluv]

boyfriend texts – ft. stray kids

pairings: OT8 skz x (mostly) gn&fem!reader

genre(s): fluff/comedy for the most part, some comfort as well, and maybe a bit suggestive in some (minho’s) but not really, established relationships! skz love their partners sm ahhhhhh!

warnings: suggestive in some (nothing crazy), dark humor, curing probably, minho’s mentions cannibalism like once but NOT IN A BAD WAY I PROMISE and I think that’s all (lmk if I missed something!!)

enluv asks that you please do not spam like posts!

coco’s ♥︎ note: happy new year my tooties!! it’s been a long year for us all, but sincerely hope that the next one will be better or equally as good as this one for you! thank you for all the support you’ve given me this year, it means so much to me! I hope to continue to bring you new skz content this coming new year :) I love you all and hope you enjoyed these!! as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3

stray kids taglist — @en-fvr @bloom-bloom-pow @enhacolor @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @chaerybae @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @queen-klarissa @bangchansbae @odxrilove @borahae-reads @s00buwu @jiawji @haechansbbg @mxlly143

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#★.stray kids #kflixnet #k labels #bjnet #blueasia #stray kids #skz #skz angst #skz comfort #skz crack #skz drabbles #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz fake texts #skz imagines #skz ot8 #skz oneshots #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz suggestive #skz texts #skz x reader #skz bang chan #skz lee know #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz han #skz felix #skz seungmin #skz jeongin

[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You

Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~3,300 words Includes -> hurt/comfort, angst, enemies to lovers, hyunjin's a meanie, reader has anxiety, minho struggles with his feelings, cringy nickname use, yelling, swearing Summary -> The rest of the group members are over the silly rivalry between you and Minho. They decide to take matters into their own hands. However, their little game takes a turn for the worse when one of the members betrays your trust. Some may call it destiny…the way it leads you straight into the arms of the one you would never expect. Author's Note -> This is my first time posting on here, so hopefully this isn't too rough. Also, I swear I don’t hate Hyunjin. I love him to death. It was just necessary for the plot… anywaysss hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist ♡ Next Part

“I swear to God if you guys don’t open this door right now!” You yell as you pound on the hotel room down the hall from yours. There hasn’t been a reply, but you know that Hyunjin and Felix are in there. The two of them are always locked in their hotel rooms the night before your shows. They try to get as much sleep as possible for the next day.

‘They are definitely laughing their asses off right now,’ you think to yourself. It was just a stupid prank to them. Something to get you and Minho to finally get along again, but they just don’t get it. You had tried for so long to make it work, but Minho was just too stubborn. For heaven’s sake, you guys used to be the best of friends. One day he just started being cruel. Ignoring your texts, saying snarky things under his breath, scoffing every time you accidentally messed a move up. It escalated to the point where you no longer talk anymore. Truly, it is not your fault and they don’t seem to get it. He refuses to say anything about what happened, completely disregarding the fact that you were ever close enough to share your deepest secrets.

You turn around to leave, realizing the two boys were probably never going to open the door. You hear the lock click and spin back to see the annoyingly beautiful face of Felix. Although he wasn’t outright laughing at you, he was putting little effort in trying to hide his smile.

“Hey, what are you so upset for? I didn’t notice anything wrong on the bus earlier?” Felix asks. You just stare back dumbfounded.

“Why the fuck would you ever put me in a room with him?” you spit pushing past Felix into his room, “Don’t you dare look at me like that, you know how he treats me.”

Hyunjin just looks at you from his spot on a queen bed closest to the window. He looks shocked, as if he hadn’t expected you to actually put up a fight against the sleeping arrangements.

"How is that our fault?" Hyunjin questions. He seems like he may be genuinely asking, but you know him better than that. You have always been closer to him than the other members, especially after all the things that went down with Minho. Hyunjin was always the one to comfort you. The first to step up when your anxiety got to be too much. So, it was obvious that the members did have something to do with it, and it wasn't just an unfortunate fluke.

"I saw the way you guys all ran to claim your rooms while I was still collecting my suitcase. Don't act stupid. I know you know what's going on," you say back in hopes to get him to at least explain what their plan was. Maybe you could reason with them and get one of the boys to switch. Heck, you'd even be willing to sleep on the couch in Hyunjin and Felix's room, but it's starting to seem like they don't even want you in their room in the first place.

You hear Felix close the door behind you, but it's all blocked out as you watch Hyunjin roll his eyes at you. While this may seem like a typical Hyunjin action, it just didn't feel right. He tries to be more gentle with you than the other boys. After confiding many of your secrets and insecurities in him, he knows to control his face around you. Yet, it's beginning to look like he's forgotten all about that tonight.

"Yeah, I'm the stupid one..." he mumbles under his breath. With every sentence exchanged, the tension in the room grows thicker. You almost feel bad putting the other poor boy in the room through this. You can practically feel him stiffen with every word spoken.

"Hyunjin-" Felix starts but is cut off by a sharp look from the man himself. You know it's starting to go too far if Felix is getting upset, but Hyunjin doesn't seem to care.

"Why are you so angry right now?" you ask him, praying the question doesn't fire him up more. Maybe he's just having a really bad day, or maybe he just wants to be alone and can't deal with your problems.

"I'm not angry," he starts, "you're just making a big deal out of absolutely nothing." By the end of it he begins to raise his voice, another thing he knows you aren't a fan of. You take a step back, a little confused at his ignorance. He's been with you through all the fights, why doesn't he understand how big of a deal this is to you?

As you're still trying to make sense of his previous statement, his voice quiets down, and he looks back down at his phone as he whispers, "Just like you always do."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" you ask, scared for the response. He glances up sharply, making true eye contact for the first time tonight.

"You're always crying over stupid shit, and I really can't handle it anymore,” he states angrily, his eyes not leaving yours the entire time. He finally breaks eye contact, and the tension explodes, painting the whole room red.

As dramatic as it sounds, it's like a knife to your heart, or perhaps more accurately a stab in the back. You know exactly what he means by that. It's like he was aiming for your most sensitive spots. With your anxiety, you tend to panic over things that don't usually matter much in other people's minds. Every time you have an anxiety attack or are just freaking out about something, you usually try to hide it. You worry that your friends won't take you seriously or will make fun of you over something they consider 'not a big deal'. You've confided in Hyunjin over this topic before. He's helping you get over that and come to them when you need help. So why is he now turning on you? Was it all an act before?

You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you hold them back. He cannot see you cry.

"Fuck you," you say, attempting to put venom behind it, but all that comes out is your shaky voice.

"Y/n, wait," Felix says sympathetically as you go to leave the room. Normally, you would stop and let Felix comfort you, but suddenly everything is feeling just a little too heavy and you can't seem to look him in the eye any longer. You stride out of the room, keeping your shoulders straight without even glancing back. You just need to stay strong until you make it into the hallway. You slam the door behind you despite typically being the one to argue when the other members to it. Your eyes are blurring too fast at this point to even recognize the fact that you probably should've shut it a bit quieter. It is a hotel and noise complaints are a thing, but, honestly, that is the least of your worries at the moment. You just keep replaying back the fight in your head trying to figure out what you did wrong. It had to be something, right?

You start down the hallway, cursing when you realize your room is at the other end of the hall. You hope the other boys can't hear your sobs, especially the two you just departed from. As much as you want to be comforted, it feels like you're past the point of no return and just want to be alone. You try to stifle your cries a bit with your hand, but it doesn't do much. You're heads getting a little too light, you're breathing getting harder to control. Your hands are shaking, and it seems like the crying is just starting. Some may call you sensitive, but when the tears start you simply begin to spiral. There's very little that can calm you down at that point. Hyunjin usually has to take you somewhere and help you take deep breaths especially before your concerts. But he's the one who started this mess. So, what are you supposed to do now?

You finally make it to your hotel room, barely being able to read the numbers, and you start to dig around in your pockets. You start to panic as you struggle to find your key card, but eventually you grasp the small rectangular piece of plastic and open the door.

Once inside, you shut the door, a bit calmer this time, and fall back against it. The only thing on your mind being the fact that you are finally in your own room, alone. You put your hands over your face, trying to quiet some of your senses. In the haste to get out of the situation, you completely failed to remember the problem that had started it all.

Minho is sitting in one of the beds; he had plenty of time to choose considering you just dropped your suitcase off and stormed off upon realizing the two of you would be rooming together. He's all cozy in his sweat pants and t-shirt, obviously thankful for your abrupt disappearance. He looks up, shocked to see you re-entering the room. He plans to make a jab of some sort, but immediately pauses upon seeing your state. It seems like you haven't even noticed that he's in there yet. He's never really seen you like this before, or at least not since he started pushing you away. Putting that aside, he accepts defeat realizing that you need someone. You need him.

Your eyes are covered as you cry quietly into your hands, pushing your head back into the wood behind you. You flinch slightly upon feeling strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you away from the hard door. However, you soon relax into the arms, enjoying the feeling of safety flood your system. The man is warm and gentle as he presses you against him, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

"Follow my breathing," he whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps from your head to your toes. You try to listen to him, but all of your senses are so overwhelmed that you can't seem to focus on anything. Feeling like a fool, you begin to cry harder, immediately sending you back to the fight with Hyunjin.

"Honey," he starts, "you just have to take a deep breath. I don't want you to pass out on me." Hearing the quiet voice in your ear helps bring your mind back to the present. Trying to focus on the instructions, you begin to notice the chest rising and falling slowly against yours. You can even feel the man's calm heart beat against your racing one.

Following the normally simple order, you try to take a deeper inhale resulting in a few hiccups and more tears. One of the arms around your shoulder falls and his hand begins to rub your back gently. As you focus on the sensation, your breathing starts to even out, just as Minho had hoped.

Once you are in a slightly better state, he moves you over to the bed. Setting you down on the edge, he kneels in front of you and softly pulls your hands away from your face. You instinctively bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep from facing the man in front of you.

Minho reaches his hand out, bringing your face back up towards his. You slowly open your eyes at the gentle touch. He's looking right back at you, a soft expression covering his face. He hasn't looked at you like that in years. He practically lights up when your eyes meet his.

A smile grows on his face, as he quietly says, "There you go, kitten." Your face flushes at the nickname, and you hear Minho giggle softly at your blushing cheeks. He used to call you that all the time. A fan had once greeted the two of you at a fan meet saying how you both had the same energy as cats. So from that day on, he had called you that nickname constantly, earning well-deserved teasing from the other boys. Yet, it had all stopped out of nowhere.

'He doesn't care about you anymore,' you remind yourself. You pull away from him roughly and stand up from the bed. You take a few steps away from him, the comfort you had felt being ripped away in seconds. This was too confusing. He can't ignore you for years and suddenly act normal. That isn't how this works.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask him, just wanting some sort of explanation. He slowly stands up, his soft look from before transforming into a look of pure regret.

"What are you talking about? You're upset and I care about you," he calmly explains, obviously ignoring the elephant in the room. But you can see it in his eyes; the nerves, the regret, and the sadness painting itself across his irises.

"You hate me,” you say, leaving no room for discussion. You were sick of being left in the dark and being turned on. You just want to know, what happened?

"You don't really believe that do you?" he asks as his body language changes. He reaches a hand up, pulling a little too roughly against his hair as he looks down at the ground.

"I mean-" you start to say but are cut off by a small sniffle coming from across you.

The culprit looks up at you again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Minho never cries. It's just one of those things. So he wipes them away and says the last words you would ever imagine him speaking to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way, but I guess that's what it's come to, hasn't it?"

You stand stiffly, staring at him. You had never seen the man look so defeated. You are even more confused about where the two of you stand than you have ever been.

"But I don't get it, you're just so mean. I don't know how you couldn't hate me."

"I could never hate you,” he states staring at you. His eyes are so deep that you can see exactly what he's feeling, and you realize, this is it. He's an open book. This may be the one time you get to see under the surface of Lee Minho since those days of friendship all those years ago.

"Then why did you push me away?" you ask, taking advantage of his state.

"I was just so scared. I thought you would hate me if you found out..." he trails off. You simply wait for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. He just looks back at you in hopes that you understand what he's trying to say. A silence builds, and Minho takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I love you and I was just too scared in case it would ruin the group," he says, finally letting the truth escape after years of secrets. The shock of the statement leaves you speechless, simply staring at your old best friend.

After a few seconds of building tension, you can’t help but start to giggle, leading to near hysterics with more tears springing to your eyes. You had thought you had cried all of them out, but it looks like you were wrong. There's no way that's the reason. If only he had been honest with his feelings, then you would've never been in this situation in the first place.

He looks surprised at your laughing, and his whole body seems to deflate.

'Hopefully he doesn't think I'm laughing at him', you think. There's no way they had messed up communication that bad to let it get to this point.

"You should have said that, Minho. I was so in love with you," you state gently, trying not to bewilder the poor man. He looks up, and there's pure excitement on his face. It's beautiful to see compared to his earlier expressions, and you're reminded of all those little reasons you love him. All those reasons that have been buried down due to his obliviousness.

"Really?" he says, taking a step closer to you. Your cheeks heat up upon realizing that you really did just reveal one of your darkest secrets.

He takes another step closer, his face now only inches from yours. You feel his arms wrap sweetly around your waist. You glance down at his lips; they're slightly chapped, but honestly, it's just all part of what makes Minho, Minho. Your eyes go back up to meet his, and you can see the tension and nerves drawn upon his face. You quickly close the distance, making the decision you should have made all those years ago.

Minho doesn't pull away, instead immediately melting into the kiss, bringing one hand up to delicately cup your cheek. This may be one of the softest moments you have ever witnessed from Minho, and man do you want more.

You don't kiss for long, it's short and sweet, but it means so much more. Within it is everything you had wished you could've said to each other since the beginning.

You both pull back, a laugh leaving both of your mouths as you take in how outrageous the situation is. He pulls you close again, his head falling on your shoulder.

"I promise, I will never ever treat you like that again. You mean so much to me," he whispers. You bring a hand up to pet the back of his hair, pulling back just enough to give him a kiss on the cheek.

The two of you eventually pull away as your eyelids begin to droop. You realize how late it has gotten, neither of you noticing with all the drama that has unfolded. You quickly change into your pajamas and get ready to go to sleep.

You end up in the same bed with your head lying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair. Despite how sleepy you both feel, you know there is so much more to talk about and neither of you will be able to fall asleep.

Minho breaks the silence, asking you the dreaded question, "So, what happened? Did someone hurt you?"

"Hyunjin and I fought. He said some very hurtful things." I reply sadly, the memories of the fight resurfacing.

"You two are so close, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know how upset he gets when we’re on tour for so long. He gets aggravated having to be around us all the time, but it was still messed up for him to be so mean to you."

You laugh at his response, "Yeah, like you can talk."

"Hey!" he says dramatically. You both giggle, and despite the tough topic, the tension seems to melt away. It always used to be that way with Minho. It's as if the two of you were made for each other. Everything just felt so much better and easier around him. Suddenly, everything in life was a lot sweeter.

"But seriously, don't worry about it too much, kitten. Felix will take care of it, and Hyunjinnie will be running back to you by the morning."

Part 2 out now!

#slvt4felix #stray kids #skz #lee know #hyunjin #felix #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #enemies to lovers #hurt/comfort #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids ninth member #skz ninth member #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #lee minho

[lixie-phoria]

asking bf!skz to bring back an iconic hair color for their latest comeback

pairing : skz x gn reader ; warnings : none

🧿 ┆ CHAN

🧿┆ LEE KNOW

🧿 ┆ CHANGBIN

🧿 ┆ HYUNJIN

🧿 ┆ HAN

🧿 ┆ FELIX

🧿 ┆ SEUNGMIN

🧿 ┆ JEONGIN

tags : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

©lixie-phoria, 2023

#skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x female reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz oneshots #skz smau #skz fanfic #skz fake texts #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids x female reader #stray kids smau #stray kids fake texts #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids #stray kids changbin #stray kids bang chan #stray kids lee felix #stray kids lee know #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids han #stray kids seungmin #stray kids jeongin

[mykoreanlove]

The cat's revenge

Your eyes shot open. Finally. The last day of your self-imposed sex ban was finally over.

You turned around and faced your boyfriend who was still sound asleep. His behavior had surprised you – Minho had begged for the first couple of days but then he just gave up and accepted his fate, never mentioning it again. You wondered how it was so easy for him, giving up sex like that.

You masked your frustration as best as you could, it was your ban after all. His behavior needed to be punished but most of the times it felt like you were the one that was suffering the most.

Minho slowly opened his eyes and smiled softly. “Baby, are you up?” He put his arms around you and hugged you tightly. The last two weeks were not only depleted of sex but rather every kind of contact that went beyond a peck. Minho nuzzled into you and sighed happily. “I missed this. I missed you, y/n.”

The butterflies in your stomach awoke as well, turning you into a mess in seconds. He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Let’s not fight like that ever again, please.”

“Agreed”, you mumbled as your hands touched his body. God, you missed feeling his chiseled abs. You missed your fingers trailing down his v-line. You let out a quiet gasp as your fingers traced over his bulge, already stone-hard.

Minho tilted your face up and looked into your eyes deeply. You could have sworn you saw them sparkle more than usual. “Let’s not rush it, baby. Why don’t I take you out for dinner tonight and after that, we uh, continue where we left of two weeks ago?”

He jumped out of the bed and went to shower while you lay in bed cheerily.

The ban worked perfectly, look how sorry he is. I think this was a great idea after all.

Empowering music was blasting through the stereo as you were getting ready for your date. You took a long bubble bath, shaved everywhere and applied scented lotion all over your body. You were so ready for tonight. Your body was covered in the dress he loved the most, your neck sprayed in the most seductive perfume while your face was slightly tinted in different colors. You felt like a goddess ready to be worshipped after so long. Minho knocked on the door and entered slowly.

“Baby, are you ready?”

He was holding a giant bouquet of flowers, red roses to be precise. “Are those for me?” It took him a minute to answer as he was eyeing you up and down, too flabbergasted to speak. Minho cleared his throat hastily. “Yeah, uh, they are. God, I don’t know why I feel so nervous. It’s like our first date all over again.” You chuckled, feeling the same way.

“Baby, you look mesmerizing. Absolutely mesmerizing.”

You took the flowers out of his hands and kissed his check. “So do you, Min.”

He had made a reservation in your favorite restaurant, spoiling you with steak and red wine. You didn’t even notice the stares of the other guests as you two were too engulfed with each other.

You had missed this so much. The sex ban was a risky idea, one that stirred up a lot of controversy among your peers. Your friends warned you about this – withholding sex as a form of punishment was just as shitty of you, but you were desperate for revenge. Minho needed to be put in his place and luckily it all worked itself out.

“Do you want dessert?”

You smirked and got up to leave. “Yeah. But not the kind they’re serving here.”

The desperation for each other was immense, you barely made it to your bedroom. “Min”, you mumbled in between passionate kisses. “Yeah, kitty?”

“I want you. Now. Fuck me now.”

He shook his head as he put you down on the kingsize bed. “Kitty, right now I wouldn’t survive two seconds in your exquisite pussy. I’d combust instantly after what you put me through. No, let me take care of you first.”

He had that devious look in his eyes - the one that made you afraid for your life but also as horny as ever. He stripped you naked and hovered over you, placing wet kisses all over your body.

“Spread your legs for me”, he instructed quietly. He let out a gasp as you did, admiring your pussy for minutes.

“Kitty, look how wet you are.”

He traced his fingers through your blinds, collecting your juices on his middle finger. “All for me, huh?” Minho put his finger in his mouth and sucked on it, his eyes rolling back from pleasure. Seeing him like that was such a turn on. “Min”, you whined desperately. “Take care of me, now.”

He snapped back to reality and pumped his fingers into you – starting with one and adding two more. He was slipping in and out in a steady motion, getting you ready in minutes. He hovered in between your legs and watched you breathe quicker, your breasts heaving up and down. Minho curved his fingers, hitting all the right spots as you moaned excessively.

He could read you like a book, knowing damn well that you were close to coming undone.

“Min”, your moans filled the bedroom, which filled him with joy. “Min”, you whimpered his name. “MIN-“

And just like that he took out his fingers, making you open your eyes in irritation.

“Why did you stop? I was about to cum”, you whined in annoyance.

Minho chuckled. “Sorry Kitty, not yet. I want to make you cum real hard after those two weeks. Will you let me?”

He didn’t even wait for your reply as his lips landed on your throbbing core, licking his way to your clit. Your hands grabbed his long hair instantly and pulled on it, you felt the vibration of his grunts in your pussy. His tongue was quickly switching places between your clit and entrance, making you squirm from overstimulation. Your thighs clasped around his head, which made him go faster, making you dizzy from all the sensations.

“Min”, you moaned again, “Min wait, this is too much. I-“

Quickly, he pulled down his pants and thrusted into you – hard and rapidly. Your breath got caught in between your moans, he was stretching you out as much as he could.

His lips were on your ear as he thrusted, his animalistic grunts were the only sounds you were able to hear. Your body was on fire, but you were too far gone to notice.

All you cared about was your release, all you cared about was Minho fucking you into oblivion. But this time something was off.

Minho knew exactly what he had to do to make you cum in seconds, he knew your body better than you did yourself. Yet, this time he was working around it, eliciting all the spots that made you weak but never truly igniting them. Instead, he was irritating them.

Minho pulled out and slapped your clit with the tip of his cock, turning you into an even bigger mess. Tears started to roll down your cheeks as pleasure mixed with pain. Minho grabbed the vibrator he had gifted you last Christmas and turned it on to the highest level, holding it to your swollen clit. Your felt your body shaking, you lost all control over its movements.

“Min”, you cried. “Min, it’s too much. Please, I can’t take it anymore.”

“Kitty, kitty, kitty”, he whispered into your ear condescendingly. “What do you want?”

“Cum”, was the only word you were able to mutter in that state.

“Oh, is that so?”

You nodded.

“I’ll give you what you want kitty. Under one circumstance though.”

You would have agreed to anything right now. Your body felt like it was electrocuted – with vibrations, sensations and oxytocin. You nodded forcefully, not even questioning what he wanted of you.

Minho traced the vibrator along your folds and pushed it inside you, making you arch your back from pleasure. “I’ll make you cum kitty but only if you promise me to never use sex against me ever again.”

All you heard was cum and promise, ignoring the rest blindly. “Yes”, you huffed out. “Yes.”

Your boyfriend pulled the vibrator out of you and pushed himself into your heated core, thrusting into you as hard as he could. You felt the heat waves crush over you, stars blinding your vision. Minho’s voice in your ear: “Promise me, baby.”

You gathered your remaining strength and kissed him forcefully, promising him to never do such a thing ever again.

Content with himself, he gave you what you craved. You came multiple times, this had to be the most intensive orgasm you had ever felt with him. It felt like you were high for hours, jerking and shaking, too invested in the blankness of your mind.

Minho held you in his arms tenderly and waited for you to come down before he cleaned you up and pulled the blankets over you. You fell asleep instantly, this sexual encounter was too much for you to bear.

Minho however was beyond pleased. He whispered declarations of love into your ear while placing sweet kisses on your forehead. “You did so well for me, kitty. I am so proud of you.” He pushed strands of hair behind your ears and watched you sleep peacefully.

“You have no idea how much I love you. Only you, my adorable baby. Only you.” Your boyfriend’s swollen lips landed on the tip of your nose, smooching you once more in the most adorable way. Everybody knew how much he cared for you, how much he loved you – even if his ways of portraying that were very bizarre at times.

“Let’s not ever fight like this again, okay?” He nuzzled into you and closed his eyes, joining you in some restful sleep. “You learned your lesson, didn’t you?”

______________________________________________________

@maximumkillshot @weareapackofstrays @lieslovefantasy @thatonenoona @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @livzsposts @i2nsstuff @n3tunobellah @redstayrosie @straykidsholicleigh @notastraykid @astayinwonderland @hanjisung-enjoyer @nicolechingish @sassyhumancoppainter @got-me-seein-stars @kairinne @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @kkamismom12 @xoxominghxe @f3rr0-fluid @straykidsholicleigh @xoxominghxe

i hope i got u all if not please share <3

#mykoreanlove #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz smut #lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know smut #minho x you #minho angst #minho x reader #minho smut #minho stray kids #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz lee know #stray kids smut #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids oneshot #skz oneshots #lee know #kpop smut #stray kids

[skzstannie]

Hii it’s okay if you can’t but I was wondering if you could do a skz x 9th member reader where she was in a car crash as well as the others? But she was badly injured as well and had to be looked after by chan because she wasn’t in good condition? Totally okay if you can’t thanks❤️

"You're awake!"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member!reader (Chan-centric)

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~3,200 cw: some cussing, car accident, reader and skz get hurt

summary: ^^ see request

A/N: Hello! Not super happy with how this came out, but I hope you still like it anon! Started a new semester, so updates will be less frequent, but I'll still be lurking in everyone's feed through likes and reblogs 👀

Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!

"I'm just saying, if penguin's could fly, I think they'd take over the world."

"Felix, literally what are you talking about?" you give him a strange look from where you're seated diagonal from him in the car.

"If penguins ever learned to fly, I think they'd try to overthrow the government in a vengeful fury."

You all sit in silence for a moment, trying to preserve the last of your braincells from deteriorating.

"Okay..." Seungmin responds, quirking his eyebrow at him.

"I am so excited for tonight!" you break the silence that settles, practically vibrating in your seat from the excitement.

"We know, you haven't stopped talking about it," Minho boredly comments, his phone lighting up his face from the shadowy back seat.

Jeongin throws an elbow in his side from where he's seated beside him, earning himself a nasty glare from the man. "Don't be mean to Ynnie, she's just excited to perform."

"I'm so sorry. Let me rephrase that," he clears his throat, setting his phone down in his lap, "Oh my gosh, I know! It's all you've talked about since this morning!" he squeaks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," you mumble, rolling your eyes at your grumpy member.

Before Minho has the chance to respond, your entire world is shaken when another car T-bones you from the right.

Time seems to slow down as the car is flipped, sending you out of your seat towards the ceiling of the car. Your seatbelt manages to control some of the damage to your head, but it slices into your neck from the pressure. Blood starts to drip out of your wound, but you don't even feel it as your hazy gaze travels over to your members.

Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes land on Felix's still body in the back seat, his eyelids draped shut. He doesn't appear to have any other injuries, but you're immediately ripped away from the sight of Felix when you hear Minho groan in pain. You Jeongin a quick once over, and upon seeing no visible injuries, keep your eyes moving. You don't miss the way Jeongin's hands are firmly grasped around Felix's forearm as he shakes the older man, trying to wake him.

It's painful to twist in your seat, but you do so anyway. Catching a glimpse of Minho, you see a jagged piece of glass protruding out of his forearm. It appears small, but you know it must still hurt like a bitch. Other than that he looks okay, so you continue to look over your remaining members. His eyes are panicked as he frantically looks over the four of you. "You guys ok?" his voice shakes with fear, and his teeth are clenched from the pain radiating from the glass in his arm.

The ringing in your ears starts to subside a bit, and the grunts coming from your right get louder. Seungmin's arm is twisted at an unnatural angle, and there's blood dripping from his left eyebrow. You can't bring yourself to answer Minho, the shock still clouding your mind.

As the rest of your senses start to come back to you, your focus remains on Seungmin as he huffs in pain. You feel a stinging sensation in your thigh, but as you slowly start to drop your head to look, you feel a shaky finger reach under your chin.

Seungmin's reached his hand out, gently pulling your chin until your eyes meet his again.

"Just keep looking at me, Yn," he whispers. You do as you're told, but the pain is worsening by the second, and your breathing starts to quicken.

All else is tuned out as your eyes remain on Seungmin's unwavering gaze.

Seconds feel like hours as you sit there in the car. Your eyelids start to become heavy, and you fuzzily catch Seungmin's eyes turn frantic as your blinks become slower and more frequent.

"Just keep your eyes open, don't fall asleep," he repeats. His word are gentle at first, but as your mind turns to mud, his voice becomes louder and urgent, almost screaming at you. You feel a rough hand grab your shoulder from behind, shaking you. Their attempts to keep you awake are futile, though, as everything becomes too much for you to handle.

"No, don't close your eyes! Stay with me!" and that's the last thing you hear before you drift off into the darkness.

~ ~ ~

You're awoken to the sound of quiet repetitive beeping.

Opening your eyes is a task all in itself, your eyelids feeling impossibly heavy.

After a moment of struggle, you're met with the bright light from a window to your right. You slowly turn your head to the side, and you see Hyunjin, Chan, and Changbin all perched on the couch. It looks uncomfortable, the way all three of them are scrunched up on the little loveseat.

You let your gaze linger on them for a moment, their presence providing a calming sensation for your jumbled mind.

Suddenly, your surroundings overwhelm you. You become terribly aware of all the wires connected to you. The ECG stickers become your biggest enemy, and the IV sticking out of your hand makes you angry.

Really angry.

You groan when you try to lift your arm, a sharp, shooting pain radiating down from your shoulder. You push through the pain though, urgent to remove all these wires from your body. The bandages littering your body feel as if they're burning your skin, and you've never needed to get something off of you faster.

You begin to peel the bandages from your arms, the pain from the adhesive no match for the pain you had been feeling previous to their removal.

Your agonistic groans manage to wake Changbin, and he panics when he sees you frantically tearing at your ECG stickers.

He jumps up from the couch, earning a yelp from Hyunjin as he was using Changbin as a pillow.

You're too overwhelmed to care about their actions as you continue to tear at your skin, even the blankets covering your body feeling like burning coals on your skin.

"Woah, what are you doing? You can't take those off yet," Changbin tells you, rushing to your side to try and restrain your arms.

"They're hurting me," you mumble, wretching your arms out of Changbin's grip to continue to pull at everything that touches you.

"Yn," Hyunjin gasps, quickly standing to his feet, running over to help Changbin.

Chan awakens from the commotion, alarm bells immediately sounding in his head when he sees your panicked movements.

You become more frantic when Hyunjin grabs one of your arms from Changbin, rendering you immobile.

"Get off!" you screech, yanking on your arms as hard as you can. Chan quickly runs out of the room in search of any healthcare professional he can find.

"You're gonna hurt yourself," Hyunjin struggles against you, holding tightly onto your hand.

"Let me go!" you continue to scream like a banshee, "You're hurting me!"

Neither do as you say, fearing for what you'll do to yourself if they listen.

"You're ok," Changbin pleads, bringing one of his hands away from your arm to rest it gently on your forehead. "Please calm down, everything will be ok."

You're too panicked to notice Chan re-enter the room, a nurse trailing in behind him.

She has a shot in her hand, and she hurriedly comes up beside Changbin to administer the drug. She hastily inserts the needle into your upper arm, and it only takes seconds for your demeanor to soften. Your thrashing becomes weaker, and your shouts become quieter, turning into soft mumbles.

The guys let out a sigh upon seeing your eyes close, your stature finally relaxing into the hospital bed once again.

"What the hell was that?" Hyunjin huffs, slightly out of breath from the physical altercation.

"Sometimes patients can be violent when they wake up out of a coma. It can happen to anyone," the nurse explains, taking the chart off the wall beside the bed. "We'll get some soft restraints to put on her arms before she wakes up again. It's unlikely for her to panic again, but it's just a precaution."

The guys nod, all three of them staring at your now peaceful face.

~ ~ ~

The next time you wake up, you feel as if you're experiencing deja vu. Your eyes open slowly, and you wince at the feeling of them being crusted over from sleep.

You also become strikingly aware of the aching pain radiating from your thigh. Your leg remains immobile, and you feel the constricting cast running from your mid thigh down to your ankle.

You go to bring your hand up to rub your face, but your movements are restricted. Your attention is brought to your hands, now laying limply by your side. There are restraints covering your wrists. Your face contorts into an expression of confusion, and you glance at the couch to your right.

Seated there are Chan, Hyunjin, and Changbin. Your deja vu hits you harder when you see them resting against one another, sleeping soundly.

"Chan," you call out to him, your voice surprisingly hoarse, your throat scratchy and raw.

He immediately jolts up, waking the other two in the process.

"Hey, you're awake," he says, getting up from the couch.

He's cautious as he walks over to you, taking slow steps to get to your bed. Changbin and Hyunjin watch from the couch, keeping their distance. Their expressions rival Chan's, somehow looking even more timid.

"Hi," you suddenly feel shy under their gazes, "Why are you looking at me like that? I can't even move; can we get these things off of me."

"Yea, sorry, the nurse said it was just precautionary. I'll go get someone to take them off of you," Hyunjin gets up from the couch, hurrying out into the hallway.

Realization dawns on you, and you bring your eyes to meet Chan's again. "Did I hurt someone? What happened?"

"You were trying to hurt yourself," a nurse enters the room, answering the question for Chan. "You were in a coma for a couple days. Sometimes, when patients wake, they can turn aggressive. Which you did, but nobody was hurt, the boys stopped you before you could do any damage."

You just nod, not entirely sure how to respond. She explains in more detail what had happened as she takes the restraints off your wrists.

"We had to sedate you, so you were out for an additional day. On the bright side, your coma allowed for your body to do some of the tough healing while you were unconscious. You had a surgery on your thigh the night you were brought in due to a compound fracture in your femur. The surgery was successful. It seems to be doing well for now, of course we'll have to bring you back in for some check-ups, but you should be good to go for now."

Your eyes widen as she goes on and on. Chan sits beside you, rubbing a hand up and down your back to help comfort you. The nurse continues about the paperwork, and leaves to gather it so you can leave.

"How are you feeling?" Changbin asks from the end of your bed.

"Overwhelmed," you answer curtly. The thought of not being able to perform for a while hurts your heart. Not only that, but you can't even walk!

Your suddenly hit with a wave of memories from the night of the accident, and your eyes water at the thought of the rest of your members who were in the car with you.

"Are the other guys alright? Where are they?" your voice is panicked as you ramble off questions.

"They're ok, we promise," Chan reassures you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "They went home a couple days ago to rest. None of them got hurt as badly as you did. They all got some stitches, Seungmin's got a broken arm, and Felix has a pretty nasty concussion, but they're ok."

You sigh in relief, allowing your head to rest on Chan's shoulder.

The nurse comes back in, a folder filled with paperwork in hand. "As soon as you fill these out, you'll be good to go! Your medications and dosages are in this little baggy. You had some lacerations on your side, but we just covered them with butterfly bandages. The stitches on your neck can be taken out at your next appointment. Just be weary of them as you go about your day, try not to turn your head too quickly," she instructs, handing over the paperwork.

Within a few minutes, everything is filled out and you've been put in a wheelchair. Chan stands behind you, wheeling you out towards the van. Hyunjin carries your crutches from beside you, and Changbin holds your medicine and the paperwork.

Getting in the car was a hassle all in itself, as your leg felt like a million pounds with the cast on it. Your hip was so sore from laying in bed for so long, so you opted to have Chan lift you into the car.

Once finally settled, you lean back against the seat and close your eyes. You don't want to admit it, but you know these next few months are going to be difficult.

~ ~ ~

It's been a few weeks now, and things have started to go back to how they were before the accident. This is the first regularly scheduled week since then, and you're grateful for the normalcy.

Your managers had put everything on hold for a while, allowing you and the rest of your members to recover some. They knew it was a difficult time for all of you, and you were thankful for their leniency.

You have been spending most of your time on the downstairs couch, lounging around in front of the T.V. Various members would join you throughout the day, helping you with whatever you needed. Chan has certainly been the most doting, running at your every beck and call.

Today was no different; Chan decided to stay home with you while the rest of the members went to dance practice. He knew it'd probably put him behind, but they weren't set to perform for a good while, so he'll just catch up a different day. Plus, he knows Minho can handle them all just fine without him there.

The two of you are lounging on the couch, watching one of your favorite T.V shows, when Chan gets up to use the bathroom.

You hear the door close, and realize now's your chance. Your stomach's been growling for the past hour, but you didn't want to make Chan make you something.

However, you are done being the world's longest lounging couch potato, so you rise to your feet, grabbing your crutches from beside you, and make your way into the kitchen.

You know you don't have long before Chan finds you, so you ravage through the fridge quickly to try and find something to eat. You see your leftovers from the other night neatly packed away, so you grab those.

You carefully set your crutches down, leaning them on the counter next to you before hopping, leftovers in hand, to the microwave.

Unfortunately, the rug in front of the sink slips beneath you, and you fall onto the ground, your leftovers opening and spilling out onto you.

"Oh for fuck's sake," you sigh. Thankfully, you're not hurt, your butt just a little sore, but some of the sauce now decorates your cast.

You hear the door fling open from down the hall, and a frantic Chan bursts into the kitchen a mere second later. "What are you doing?" he's panicked as he rushes over to you, his arms looping under yours to pull you up.

"I was just going to heat these up because I was hungry, but then I slipped. I'm fine," you lightly push Chan away from you, knowing fully well that you can stand on your own.

He looks slightly taken back by your attitude, but nevertheless moves towards you again. He wraps his arms around you in an attempt to pick you up, no doubt to carry you back into your permanent spot on the living room couch, but you give him a firmer shove this time. "Did I hurt you?" he worries, his eyebrows scrunching.

"No, I just want to walk to the bathroom myself and get cleaned up," you explain, doing your best to keep your composure.

"I can help, let me grab you a wash rag for your cast," he bends down next to you, rummaging through the cupboard.

"Chan, please," you sigh. As much as you loved being babied at first, enough is enough. "I need some time by myself. I love you guys, but I'm not sure I've had a moment alone since the accident." Your arms are crossed as he stands, a pout forming on his face.

"But we just want to help you," he says, puppy-dog eyes on full display.

"And I thank you for all you guys have done the past month, but I really need to start doing things for myself again," you reach past him, grabbing your crutches and head down the hall to your bathroom. "Now to get this sauce off me," you mumble as you push the door open with the end of your crutch.

~ ~ ~

You're laying on your bed later in the day, knee propped up on a plump pillow to help alleviate some of the pain from your aching leg, when you hear a knock on door.

You tell them to come in, and the door opens to reveal Chan. "Hi," he's timid as he walks in. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, a guilty look on his face.

"What's up?" you ask, sliding your bookmark into the crease of your novel.

"I wanted to apologize on behalf of all of us. We've been really clingy since the accident, and we didn't realize we were overstepping."

"Chan," you sigh, adjusting yourself to sit next to him. "Please don't beat yourself up about this. Honestly, I was just a little frustrated earlier and took it out on you. You guys have helped me more than you know these last few weeks. I really don't mind all the doting."

His eyes light up at that. "Really?" his voice is giddy, and you regret that you were the cause of his sadness before.

While the overprotectiveness really did get on your nerves a bit, if it brings them that much happiness to take care of you, you suppose you can get past your grumpiness and let them do it.

"Really."

"Guys, she changed her mind!" he yells, and not even a second later, your door swings open, seven smiling faces staring back at you.

They hurry into your room, clumsily fighting each other to sit on your bed. They're still cautious of your leg, but they all manage to fit, even if a little squished.

"Don't make me regret this," you joke, ruffling Seungmin's hair from where he's laid out on your lap.

"You know you love us," Chan comments, smirking at you.

"I certainly do."

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan #skz bangchan #stray kids bang chan #bang chan x reader #skz angst #skz hurt/comfort #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #stray kids ninth member #skz ninth member

[seungbinbin]

dad!skz random texts

a/n: HELLOOOOOOOO THANK U SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS WTF !!!! here’s this to celebrate 🥳🥳🥳‼️‼️‼️ thank u to my bffs for making sure these weren’t awful and cringe <3 que me haría sin ustedes <3

warnings: implied female reader (words like mom and girl are (over)used), cussing, mentions of food

BANG CHAN & LEE KNOW !!

CHANGBIN & HYUNJIN !!

HAN & FELIX !!

SEUNGMIN & JEONGIN !!

#skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x female reader #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz oneshots #skz smau #skz fanfic #skz fake texts #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids x you #stray kids x female reader #stray kids smau #stray kids fake texts #stray kids fanfic #stray kids oneshot #stray kids #stray kids changbin #stray kids bang chan #stray kids lee felix #stray kids lee know #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids han #stray kids seungmin #stray kids jeongin

[bbyquokka]

chan x fem bodied reader | warnings: 18+ content (mdni!!), breeding kink, mentions of cum play & eating, unprotected sex, | words: 0.3k ~ (379) 🐺ㆍ₊⊹

thinking about how chan would literally risk it all just to breed you. unprotected sex isn't practised, the feeling of fucking you raw is such a good feeling to chan. he loves the way he can feel your velvety yet gummy walls hugging his shaft. he loves how he feels your warmth and your wetness. he loves fucking you from behind (either in doggy or with your face buried in the pillows) because he can see his length glistening with your wetness before disappearing inside you. chan especially loves it when he feels your walls flutter around his length and how after one orgasm, you've gone dumb on his cock. you're forever babbling, incoherent sentences. all chan can make out is “more”, “please” and “chan.” he loves watching you grip onto the sheets like it's a lifeline but most of all, he adores it when you beg for him to cum inside you. it's not safe, both of you know that however, it's a risk you're both willing to take. it's a stupid risk that's heightened due to the heavy amount of hormones and lust that's pumping through each other's veins. but chan loves it when he cums inside you, painting your walls white and flooding your cunt. he loves it when you milk him dry. he loves it when he pulls out and watches his cum drip out of your hole only to be pushed back in with his finger or his cock. you love the sudden warmth of his cum flooding inside your cunt. you love how doe eyed chan gets when he watches it trickle out off you. a little bit of cum play never goes a miss either. pushing it back inside, smearing it around your puffy folds and even daring to eat it. it just makes chan even more feral, pinning you down on the bed and fucking you raw once again. the warmth from your cunt as well as his own fluids hugging his fat cock, making him see stars and feel so fucked out. you'd milk him dry until there is literally nothing left in chan, the oversensitivity of his tip would cause him to sob and plead “no more” but his body (hips especially) would have a mind of their own.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids hard hours #chan #bang chan #chan x you #chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x reader #chan smut #bang chan smut #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshots

[jeongin-lvr]

ᵎ　🍶　⊹ 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝗽， 𝗒． 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇

ᝰ✧ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀！ 𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇，𝗆𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗌𝗎𝖻！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋， 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄， 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗇𝖽， 𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗐𝗈， 𝗎𝗇𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑， 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗂𝖾， 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄， 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 ／ 𝖴𝖭𝖤𝖣𝖨𝖳𝖤𝖣

[ 2985 words ] ✩ [ do not repost ] ✩ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 second felt normal, not a single sound was made, not a single little grunt or whine or moan. His ever-resilient gaze didn't ever wander, not a single part of his face flinched. It made me wonder if I was even plaguing his mind the same way he plagued mine. Every second felt normal if you were only paying attention to his expressionless face, his dangling wrist that equipped a phone like it was a normal day. His eyes never changing to meet mine.

Was I the only one so drunk on lust right now?

I whimpered in his lap, hands shaking as I gripped the collar of his black button up, eyes roaming the soft fabric in desperation. The perforations in his skin from my nails in his neck and chest being the only reminder that this wasn't a dream.

"Stop whining," Jeongin tilted his head, dropping his arm with his phone in hand, eyes on me with boredom. My thighs shook alongside my hands, breathe shaky; yet there he was, face still and body language completely at ease. How was this effect only leaving me scrambled? Why was I the one making a horny fool of myself?

"Nothings even happened yet," My boyfriend mocked, dragging his slender fingers up his shirt, creasing and flattening in patterns. I watched, practically drooling over his teasing movements; completely purposeful, entirely effective, "You're already so cock-drunk, aren't you?" He smirked, slowly unbuttoning one painstakingly slow button at a time. Inch by inch revealing the succulent glow of his pale skin.

"N-no!" I protested, but the slight roll of his hips into mine made me squeak, then shamefully retreat into my own palms. Hiding my face from his mocking stare. The throb of my cunt around his dick was already sending me into a orgasmic shivers, still and barely even working. In fact, not working at all.

When he suggested the idea of cock-warming I wasn't entirely too sure what that was. But Jeongin was always gentle, open to rejection. I agreed after a short yet insightful explanation from my boyfriend, I was ecstatic to partake in the activity; except the one thing he hadn't disclosed was how fucking excruciating it would be to not move while in this position. While his dick was flush inside of me; walls closing around him at the slightest movement because he was giving me absolutely nothing. Just the feel of his tip poking the most sensitive part of my cervix.

My legs draped lusciously over his sides, cock stretching me as I sat flush against his body. His body begging for me to touch it, yet he said I'd wait for as long as he told me to. And here I was, after god knows how long, with me writhing in his lap while he gave me no reactions. Nothing to play off of, his face was unreadable.

I dropped my head on his shoulder, desperate for something more. For his grasp on my hips while he fucked me senseless.

"Really? You're all worked up," I could hear the sickening smirk in his tone, mixed with that gentle, sweet voice he naturally had. It was so fucking hot. Jeongin undid the final button, ending my painful wait to get a look at his beautiful body. The male worked his shirt open, placing his big, strong hands at the dip in my hips, finally giving me something that wasn't complete oblivion.

"I'm not worked up," I lifted my head, cheeks hot, clearly awe-stricken by his luminous body, "You're worked up." I pouted, whipping my head away in defiance.

"Hm, you're all bratty," Jeongin sighed, removing his hands from my waist and grabbing phone again, swiping up and down, double tapping on instagram posts as if I weren't even in front of him. As if I wasn't taking his cock. As if it was boring, "Bratty girls don't get to feel good. Sorry." He simply stated as his eyes fluttered over the screen at me, dark eyes unreadable per usual.

"Innie... please," I groaned, a sound that insatntly melted into a whine as I shifted on his cock; truly, at this angle his tip was pressing so perfectly into my sweet spot I could barely focus my eyes.

"You can be my cock-warmer for a little longer can't you?" Jeongin stated half-heartedly, placing his other hand behind his head as he tousled with his own black locks.

"N-no! I can't fucking stand this," I ran my fingertips up his front, opening his shirt wider to get a better view of his skin. The way it shimmered with a light layer of sweat, practically begging me to kiss it.

So I pressed my lips onto his skin, one kiss after the other across his collarbone, then his neck and jaw. Whining between every soft peck, my hands remained planted on his pectorals where I could feel the simple beat of his heart. Steady and completely average. Meanwhile all he did was continue to glance at his phone screen, silently enjoying the desperation lacing through my erotic words. The mumbled misconstrued "please" and "baby" that would leave my mouth between a sloppy open mouthed kiss secretly did a number on him.

He was just really fucking good at hiding it.

My lips met the best place to kiss his skin, just below his jaw, right beside that little crescent shaped beauty mark that reminded me of the moon. Finally I heard a nearly silent grunt from his lips; that's what's getting him off? A simple kiss to his beauty mark?

I had to secretly roll my eyes. I peppered that spot with ruthless, moist kisses. One by one, kissing that spot more until they became desperate love bites. My teeth nipping and playing with his skin between my teeth, my tongue swirling in whiny circles around the bruising flesh. I would pull away to admire it and get a better listen to his heavier breathing, his oh-so delightful groans. It was music to my ears, finally indicating that he was just as needy as I was. He was just good at acting. A little too good.

His cock deep inside of my body didn't lie either. I felt Jeongin's dick twitch, allowing my own walls to drip and clench in retaliation. I'd begun to think maybe I could have the upper hand here. I smiled against his skin, breath warm to match his own.

He grabbed my shoulders as I tried to bend down to place more smooches, cheeks burning and sweat creating a decent shine on his skin. Jeongin glared at me, right hand leading to my face and placing firm fingers around my cheeks, "You think you're cute, huh?"

"I am." I said between my squished cheeks, his eyes watching mine harshly. I knew what he was thinking; it wasn't that hard to read him anymore, I knew he loved to fuck.

"Not with your attitude," Jeongin leaned into my face, hands brushing the sweaty bits of hair off my neck. His words made my cunt feel desperate, the silent sitting position I had on him wasn't enough. Lust was a greedy emotion.

"You want my dick so bad, don't you?" He taunted, snarking into my ear. Oh, his minty breath coated the side of my face, hands still entangled in my hair and beginning to pull it tighter, out of my vision but probably reddening my scalp from the force.

I mewled in response, back arching to match his pull on my hair.

"Yeah you do," Jeongin pulled back, just as his lips were less than a millimeter away from my face. Jeongin sat back in the couch, hands behind his head as his eyes glazed over, looking at me like a piece of me. A look I didn't know could be so sexy on him, "Go ahead them. Fuck yourself on it. Go on, baby."

I tilted my head in confusion. Was he really letting me get my way?

"Really?"

"Hurry up."

My eyes scanned his face, then his body. Red nail indents lining his skin, hickeys upon his abused skin, ever his milky skin was covered in sweat. Pale in comparison to his dark crinkled shirt, matching his even darker hair. God, the sight was so hot. I couldn't resist the way my hips wanted to move, to bounce and grind upon him. See him groan along with me to create a harmony of pornographic sounds.

Skin on skin slapping, wet noises of our sexes colliding, sweaty bodies rubbing. Everything.

I placed my hands upon his shoulders, legs raising me up before I plopped back down. Whines and groans filling the air, all from my own mouth. My eyes couldn't see straight, dizzy stars and glowing orbs clouded my vision, only pushing me forward.

My movements were sloppy, but how could I not be sloppy when I could feel every inch of him glide against my walls in such easy, wet motions.

When my eyes finally focused, I caught the look in his eyes, bored. I moaned helplessly, the nonchalant look on his face never changing. I would've been embarrassed by how worked up I was had it not been for how good it felt.

"That's it baby? That's all you got?" Jeongin clicked his tongue, not giving me a single ounce of gratitude. Not a bit of saccharine emotions leaking from his words. And, god, it was addicting. I pumped myself upward faster, eyes fluttering to the back of my head with every little mewl I made. "C'mon, try harder." Another whine left my lips, swollen from kissing his skin feverishly, eyes watery. Yet, he looked relaxed, only sign that he was into this was the rock-hard feel of his cock inside of me. "More. Are you even trying? So sloppy." Jeongin grabbed his phone and stared at it boredly, vision telling he could care less by anything that was happening to him.

What was addicting to me was nothing to him. At least that's what it seemed.

"Fuck... ah, Innie... I cant-"

"I know you can't," Jeongin interrupted, a smirk tainting his face and giving him a domineering glow. A sheen of sweat upon his skin, the sound of skin slapping fueling his intense stares. Yet he didn't do anything. He liked to watch the struggle in my face; sadistically, chuckling to himself at how easily I unraveled, "But you better fucking try."

A few more sloppy bounces on his cock had me shaking, yet my orgasm wasn't approaching as I'd intended. I could barely taste it on my lips, but I couldn't. Not with him staring me down like I was a stupid puppy, incapable of doing anything but making a mess of myself. I felt drool pooling in the corners of mouth, babbling moans and hot breaths around me.

I was pathetic, and he loved it.

"What's wrong baby?" Taunting was his entire personality at this point, his teasing stares, the way his hands snaked at my waist yet did nothing to help me. It was addicting the little bits of joy I got from it. Right now, losing myself on his lap while he just watched had to be the hottest thing ever.

"Can't..." I panted. Breathless as I stopped fucking myself up and down, hair draping in front of my eyes, lips wet with drool. His hand at the small of my back, unamused.

"Do you need me to do everything for you?" He groaned as if annoyed yet the stir of excitement in his body knowing I just needed him was exactly what I wanted. He knew my body inside and out, every mark on my skin, every part of me he's kissed and worshipped.

"Please," I begged, hands at the back of his neck, lovely lips parted as he breathed down at my face, "I just need you. Can't do it.“

"Aw, so desperate," Jeongin cooed, hand beginning to trail down my stomach, pressing into it and feeling his own cock through the tender skin of my belly. His eyes seemed to ignite, "Poor baby can't even fuck herself right. All this cock and you don't know what to do."

"So pathetic," Jeongin groaned, working me up even more than I already was, "Need me to fuck you right, huh?“

I nodded, eyes fluttering as I slowly ground down on his hips, looking for validation in his eyes. He stared at me, hands holding me still.

"So bad," I slurred, barely valid words.

"I know you do," He helped me raise my hips, manifesting a steady pace for our bodies. His breathe slowly deepened, longer, unstable breathes filled the air between us. Nearly silent groans from the boy. Finally, a verbal reaction.

"So let me help my helpless baby out, yeah?" Jeongin cooed at me, raising me out of his lap, sliding out of my desperately wet hole. Leaving me empty and useless. All that time I'd sat in his lap with his full dick inside of me made me forget how it felt to be empty. And now all I wanted- no, needed was to be full of him again. In every way possible.

His body looming over me left only one thought in my mind, my hands clinging to his undone shirt, begging with silent moans and whines. Nothing to satisfy me, only the tease of his tip at my swollen clit, his precum seeping onto me.

Just in an instant, I was full again. His dick eliciting the loudest sudden moan I'd made. Somehow, his dick felt better when he was in control.

The smell of salty sweat on our bodies, his dick pumping in and out of me at a generous pace. It was fueling the orgasmic fire burning inside of me. My back arched each time he rammed his hips into mine; the hunger for more finally being satisfied.

I moaned and whined, incapable of forming words- incapable of forming thoughts. The only thing on my mind was how he managed to kiss my cervix with his dick, deepening with every delicious stroke each time. Perfect.

My nails attacked his back, luscious nails breaking his skin and drawing enough bloods to form a red wound. Crescents and lines of perfection, probably gonna leave a sting, but it was a reminder of how good he was making me feel.

Jeongin hissed, grabbing my thigh and holding it up, angling my hips just right. And then a new part of me was unlocked, my moans became desperate and loud. Helpless and I refused to shut up; I needed to show him how good I felt. I probably wouldn't have been able to stifle those moans either way, the rush was too good.

"God, you're such a slut," Jeongin grunted, staggering breath, heated cheeks, "You like it when I use you don't you?“

"Mhmm, love it," A moan left my lips, drawn out and erotic.

Jeongin scoffed. My hands dragged down his back, scratches painting his skin pink and red. He hissed again, yet pain turned to enjoyment, and then he used it to fuel his fire.

"Gonna let me cum inside, babe?" Jeongin tilted his head back, exposing the sweat glistening upon his neck; his Adam's apple bobbing with every gulp and breathe he took. Then he looked back down at me, raising a hand to my tummy to feel my skin. Pressing his hand down into it and feeling himself within my skin. Every pump, every twitch inside of me. Though he looked so dominant and large, I could see the desperation in his face. The slight twitch in his lip, the furrow in his eyebrow, even the way his cheeks burned even harder.

"Fuck, yes, c-cum inside," My back arched, livid rush of pleasure engulfing my body. My climax was drawing near, I felt my entire body shiver, once, twice. It was overwhelming, the stimulation felt overpowering.

"You close?"

No words left my mouth, my jaw went sack, my eyes scrunched tightly closed. My orgasm decided to make a sudden appearance as his dick abused my gummy spot; the spot inside me that sent me over the edge into relentless mewls of bliss.

"That answers my question," He groaned as he felt my cunt clench around him, cum seeping and squirting out of me like a leaky faucet. His eyes watched, the feeling of it only driving his own orgasm forward. Lips parted, he hit harder and deeper, dragging out my orgasm by a few hits until he filled my cunt up. Soon, my insides felt full and a bit sore, my thighs aching and knees red from the work I'd put in originally.

Everything ached yet my orgasm made me forget the pain. My eyes fluttered open to see Jeongin between my legs, fingers poking my sensitive hole as he shoved the leaking cum back into me, my silent whimpers filling the air. His gaze was intense, his full of adoration.

He was mesmerized by the sight of his and my own cum seeping from within me, drenching the soft fabric of the couch.

"Fuck, you're so hot."

"I am... so tired."

"You barely did any work," He taunted, bending to my lips and finally giving me a kiss, a soft one that made my heart flutter. Despite the burn in my inner thighs, everything was fine. And perfect. And right, "All you had to do was look pretty for me."

"I did some work..." I retaliated half-heartedly, cheeks red as my eyes lingered off to the side.

"Some," Jeongin kissed beside my lips, "You're a good cock-warmer." He teased, kissing my face everywhere.

I glanced down between our bodies, eyes instantly falling to his new hard-on, "Again?"

"Just gonna put it in," He chuckled, "Like i said, you're a good cock-warmer."

#what is happening #oneshot #stray kids #writing #skz scenarios #skz #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz oneshots #skz smut #skz jeongin #yang jeongin #jeongin smut #kpop smut #jeongin oneshot #i.n x reader #i.n imagine #skz fluff #skz x reader

[zeroeightzeroone]

lover of mine - bang chan

genre: angst, hurt eventual comfort

pairings: idol!bang chan x female reader

warnings: none

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~3k|moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"i'll never give you away, 'cause i've already made that mistake,

if my name never fell off your lips again, i know it'd be such a shame.

when i take a look at my life, and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right."

lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer

you always thought that the next time chan would be making you cry would be at your wedding ceremony.

initially, you would try to hold in your tears, just enough so that you weren't full-on sobbing and ruining your makeup. eventually failing as the tears flow freely listening to the man tell you the moment he fell in love with you, the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the promises he vows to keep forever. chan's eyes would never leave yours as you exchanged vows; in that moment, only you and chan existed, the proclamation and celebration of your love were the only things that mattered.

instead, here you are crying over chan. sitting in the driver's seat of your car, sobbing over the man who once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, now not wanting to fight for that future anymore.

…

"you're doing it again."

the sound of your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, attention now on the girl sitting across from you, "huh?"

she reaches over and places her hand on yours with a sympathetic smile on her face. no words are needed from her to make you realize what you were doing whilst zoning out; fiddling around with your ring finger. a habit you picked up after chan proposed, and a habit that hadn't changed even without the band on your finger; your fingers instinctively moving to spin and twist a non-existent ring.

"right," you clear your throat awkwardly.

your hands slipping out from under hers, sliding them under your thighs hoping that maybe sitting on your hands would work against the habit.

"how are you?"

the word 'lost' feels like an understatement. the word couldn't encapsulate even a quarter of your feelings.

you felt directionless, overwhelmed by the constant switch between emotions: anger, frustration, sadness, and denial, it left you exhausted. day by day, you only grew more emotionally drained, the desire to feel nothing only intensifying.

the mere thought of the dimpled man gave you whiplash, your heart and your head conflicting with each other and your feelings pulling you from one end to the other. you couldn't pinpoint exactly how you felt about him.

god, you wished that you didn't even think about him.

you wished that you weren't plagued by the thought of him at every waking moment. everything reminded you of him, everything brought you back to the memory of how easy it was for him to let you, the person he proclaimed to want to spend the rest of his life with, to watch them walk out the door, to just give up without a fight.

why couldn't it have been easy for you too? why couldn't you just let him go the way he did you? forget him like he meant absolutely nothing?

as much as you wished it was, you knew it wouldn't be easy to move on from chan.

your early adulthood started with chan, moving in with him almost a year and a half after you started dating. he became a part of your routine and you became part of his; there was a time when your day didn't feel complete without hearing a goodnight from him or getting that goodnight kiss. your lives were intertwined, and your future plans were intertwined.

you believed chan was your future. he made you believe that you would write the next chapters of your lives together, that you two would be side by side on the road to forever. you envisioned your future with chan, without him you've hit a crossroads, struggling to navigate where to go from here. you were scared.

scared to learn what the future holds for you, scared to take a step towards a future without him.

on top of all that came public attention.

the news about your breakup hadn't been confirmed by chan or jyp entertainment. regardless that didn't stop the speculations and rumours that came with the lack of seeing you and chan in public together, seeing you without your ring, and other proofs fans would dig up. the algorithm also working against you as whenever you refreshed social media, the first couple of posts would be news articles, headlines and what have you, discussing the speculations.

'did stray kids' bang chan and his long term girlfriend call it quits?'

'fans of stray kids speculate bang chan and his partner have called off the engagement'

'netizens react to alleged proofs that bang chan and long term girlfriend have split up'

'breaking: did stray kids' bang chan and girlfriend split up? here's why fans are wondering about the status of the long-term couple'

your comments were flooded with questions regarding the rumours, mourning fans hoping that they were baseless and haters congratulating you on setting the man free. you wondered why the news hadn't been spoken about by chan or any official representatives but the speculations drove you to log out of social media. the realization that one day the articles and headlines will change from 'speculations' to 'confirmations' the anticipation and anxiety driving you insane.

you look back up to your friend, your lips pursed together in a small smile as you reply:

"i'm fine."

…

"chan hyung!"

the boy pulls the pillow up and over his head, trying to block out the noises from outside the door. hoping that the longer he ignored, the realization that he wanted to be alone would sink in and everyone would leave him be. that hope was short-lived as the door swung open.

"chan hyung!" changbin calls from his spot at the door, "you need to eat something."

from where he's standing, changbin watches chan groan out a response from under the pillow, making no effort to get up and go eat something. changbin's eyes drift to the older boy's bedside table, a picture frame is lying face down (probably a photo of you), and sitting on top of the frame is a gold band with a large diamond: your engagement ring. the sight of the band sitting on chan's bedside table and not on your finger has a small frown adorning changbin's lips.

"hyung, i know it's hard but please. you need to take care of yourself too," the younger boy sighs, "locking yourself in your room won't do anyone good."

of course, it wasn't easy for them to see chan in such a state.

chan had always been the one putting up a strong front, walking around with his head up no matter the circumstances as the leader. but these past couple of weeks, whenever chan was out of the public eye he'd walk with his head down, dragging his feet, no words leaving him. almost like he's being forced to be anywhere outside of his bedroom.

the members in the other dorm were curious about their leader, wondering how he'd been holding up but chan stopped replying to the group chat. it got to the point where the members made a chat without chan, using that to ask jisung, changbin and hyunjin how the older one was doing.

for as long as you were in chan's life, you were also in the member's lives. the news of the breakup came as a shock to them as well. they were all curious as to how you were doing too, but were hesitant to ask you directly for fear of making things harder for you. you met all of them through chan, and seeing their names pop up on your phone may just be another reminder of your ex.

changbin's eyes are on chan as the older boy takes the pillow off his head, slowly sitting up on the bed, feet hitting the floor but making no move to stand up. instead he's slouched over, head in his hands and sighing.

"do you, uh…" chan's voice barely above a whisper, "do you think i made a mistake?"

changbin shuts the door behind him hearing chan's question, realizing right now his friend needed someone to talk to before, maybe, going to eat something.

leaning against the door, he replies, "what do you mean?"

"w– was proposing… a mistake?"

"do you feel like it was a mistake?"

chan shakes his head, "no."

"did you mean everything you said when you proposed?"

"yes."

"then it wasn't a mistake."

chan lifts his head out of his hands, head turning to the younger boy leaning at the door. even in the dim purple lighting of chan's room, changbin can see how glossy his eyes are, how the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent since yesterday.

"was… was letting her go," chan's voice shaky, "a mistake?"

changbin pushes himself off the door, making his way to sit next to his hyung on the bed. a comforting hand moving to chan's back.

"that's a question only you can answer," changbin's lips are pursed to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he continues, "did it feel like a mistake at the time?"

"i- i thought i was doing the right… thing," chan's voice pitches higher at the end, questioning his own answer, "when i came home, an–and saw the dinner table, full of food she made for us. when she told me everything she was feeling, the look i-in her eyes."

chan loves your eyes, it's by far his favourite thing about you.

looking into your eyes had him falling in love with you before he even knew it. looking into them made it feel as if he was looking into your soul, almost like your eyes could tell him what your words couldn't. chan's day would immediately be flipped upside down just at the sight of your eyes, a shitty day becoming the best day when he caught a glimpse of those radiant, warm pools of life, your eyes sparkling with a zest and excitement for life that sent a wave of comfort over him. whenever he looked at you, that glimmer of hope in your eyes made him feel like everything would be okay.

but that night, the look in your eyes that night is seared into chan's memory. haunting him whenever he closes his eyes, whenever his eyes fall on your ring sitting on his bedside table.

that night when you told him just how lonely you'd been feeling, how you felt like he was treating you like the help and not as his fiancé; those words knocked some sense into chan. the harsh reality glaring him down: he had been falling short in your relationship. he had been so blind to that fact for who knows how long, listening to you had chan wallowing in guilt.

at one point chan felt like he was a third person watching everything go down, but it felt like he was watching you and a whole different person. he wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't feel anything other than guilt eating him alive.

when he looked into your eyes, that's when everything came crashing down.

the eyes that once gleamed up at him, washing a wave of comfort and reassurance through his body were boring into his own. the contrast had his blood running cold. the sight of your hollow and dull orbs gazing up at him, even the sources of light around you did nothing to bring back that sparkle. the way your eyes looked incredibly sunken in, tired, swimming with distress as they searched his. he wondered how he hadn't seen the change before.

a change that happened because of him. the light in your eyes is gone all thanks to him. he wanted to be the one to preserve and make sure your eyes light up for the rest of your life, but instead he's the reason you look defeated. he couldn't handle the guilt eating him up at the sight.

"i-i broke her," chan whispers, "you could see it in her eyes how my shortcomings, the ones i was too blind and stupid to notice… that broke her. i broke her."

changbin doesn't say anything.

"i thought it would be better for me to let her go… get her away from me who was sucking the life out of her," chan's hands run through his hair, "she deserves so much more than me."

the older boy cries. his thoughts, feelings, everything just clouded with you.

"hyung," changbin's tone is soft, feeling out the atmosphere, "don't you think that it's sucking the life out of her even more, to be away from you?"

this time chan is the one who doesn't say anything.

"she wanted you to stay, she wanted you to convince her to stay."

"convince me to stay… please."

"i'm sorry."

"yes. from what you told us the day after you broke up, she does deserve better."

changbin's words send a dagger to chan's heart.

"but don't you want to be the one she deserves?"

chan's head turns to look at changbin.

"you need to work to be better, to be the one y/n deserves. that's what she wants, she wants you hyung."

"… m-me?"

"she wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if she didn't want you for the rest of her life."

…

your plan for the day was to wake up around noon, order some takeout or ransack your best friend's freezer for some food (and ice cream), chill on the couch and watch some netflix. instead you're jolted awake, at ten in the morning, by pounding at the front door.

rolling your eyes in annoyance, stretching your arm out, feeling around before grasping a pillow and clutching it over your head, trying your hardest to block out the noises and fall asleep. hoping the longer you hold out, it will give off the illusion that no one's home and come back later. a couple moments pass, a sigh of relief falls from your lips when the knocking stops, allowing you to loosen your grip on the pillow around your head.

maybe the neighbours got annoyed and kicked whoever that was out.

at the silence, you roll onto your side and shift your body around to get comfortable in the mattress. another long breath leaving your lips once that optimal position to fall asleep in is found, closing your eyes and getting ready to be lulled back into dreamland.

now you think someone is fucking with you.

the knocking starts up again, for a second you thought you'd fallen asleep and the knocking was continuing in your dreams but no. sadly, you weren't lulled back into dreamland like you hoped, the pounding in your head making it apparent that this was indeed, reality.

on top of all the things happening in your life lately, being woken up by a stranger relentlessly hammering the life out of their fist on your– actually, your best friend's– door is the kicker to a great day. a whine leaving your lips as you roll out of bed, pouting as you trudge to the door of the guest bedroom and continue your trek down the hall, towards the front door.

sure, you wouldn't have minded if your best friend, the person who lives in this unit, was actually home to answer the door. alas, she's at work whilst you're here; straightening out your pyjamas and plastering the fakest smile on your lips whilst you undo the locks, twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open.

"hello, mis—"

your jaw drops. posture immediately straightening due to the wave of tension that rushes through your veins, your mind comes up with two options: hide behind the door or run. your heart begins to race in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment but your feet are cemented to the ground. any urge you had to run away and hide quickly depleting at the sight of the man in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"chan… wh-what are you doing here?"

there he is: the man of the hour.

in front of you, in the flesh. standing a couple inches away from you clad in his usual all-black attire. you're avoiding his gaze but can't seem to pry your eyes off the bouquet in the man's hold.

a medley of red and white roses, baby's breath peeking throughout the arrangement.

"i- i needed to see you," chan's voice comes out husky.

shifting awkwardly on your feet, you sigh, "how did you know i was here?"

"multiple calls to your best friend and a long speech," he uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his lips.

'she's getting a long speech from me too.'

"okay, well…" you clear your throat, "you saw me so bye."

you go to shut the door but chan stumbles forward, holding it open as he stands in the doorframe. the gush of air from his sudden movements gives you a whiff of his cologne. that along with the closer proximity has a lump forming in your throat.

"w-wait, i wanted to talk too."

"y-you spoke and so did i so, bye," you choke out, trying to close the door again but to no avail as his body blocks your way, "please chan, what more do you want from me? don't make this harder for me."

chan reaches forward at the sight of a tear falling, wanting to wipe it away but you flinch away from his touch. your reaction has chan recoiling, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. you go to turn away from him.

"i made a mistake," he states, his words coming out rushed.

you gulp, angling your body towards the man again. this time your arms crossed over your chest, your gaze still falling away from his face. chan's throat clears when he realizes that you're not going to speak.

"that night, i shouldn't have let you go," he continues, "i should've told you, said something, said anything to convince you to stay… but… fuck. i- i was scared."

your eyes glance up at his face, only to look away just as quickly.

"you're probably thinking, of what?" chan runs a hand through his hair, "but listening to everything you said, everything that i was stupid, ignorant enough not to notice, all those things that i did– or, uh didn't do… that hurt you. it scared me to tell you i wanted you to stay."

your eyebrows furrow in frustration, this time your gaze stays on his face, making no move to wipe the tears running down your cheeks.

"listening to you, hearing how much i hurt you. i- i thought it would've been selfish of me to tell you to stay," chan's voice cracks, tears falling from his eyes as well, "i thought i would hurt you more if you stayed… that you didn't deserve that, y-you deserved so much more than me."

"god, chan.…" a bitter smile on your lips, "you saying nothing, letting me leave… a-and not fighting for me, for us! fuck… that hurt more than anything."

the memories of that night have your heart aching. whimpering as the tears continue to fall, the sight has chan's gradually getting heavier in his chest. he wants nothing but to pull you into his arms and to never let go.

"i know… i know. baby, i'm so sorry," chan's cheeks are soaked with tears but he makes no effort to wipe them away, "i'm so fucking sorry. i thought i was doing what was best for you, but i fucked up, i fucked up big time."

your eyes lock with chan's. glossy, tear-filled orbs gazing into each other, at that moment the tears only build until the both of you are crying a river in the hallway.

chan quite literally launches himself at you. throwing his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, nuzzling your head into his shirt. bodies trembling and shaking as the both of you cry in each other's arms.

chan soaks up every single thing about this moment; the warmth of your body radiating onto him, your face nuzzled into his chest, the smell of your hair, the way your hands grip the back of his shirt, the feeling of your body pressed up against his. he isn't even sure that you'll take him back. regardless, he knows he wants to work his hardest to ensure he'll have you in his arms every day for the rest of his life.

in his arms, he holds the person who has been with him every step of the way and supported him day in and day out. the biggest mistakes chan ever made took place on that day: not convincing you to stay, not telling you how he loves you with his entire heart, and holding your engagement ring in his hand while he watched you walk out.

chan wants you to be so much more than just his past and present, he wants you to be his future, his forever. he's always wanted that but he failed at showing you, instead hurting you in ways he was completely ignorant of.

"i love you," chan cries, you can hear his heart racing in his chest, "i love you so much. if you let me, i'll work every single moment of every day to show you that. when i told you i wanted you for the rest of my life, i meant it. i mean it with my whole heart. i fucked up–majorly, but i swear to you! i swear i'll show you that i'm the one you deserve, that i can give you that life you deserve."

chan looks down at you, enveloped in his arms as your gaze naturally lifts to meet his eyes.

chan's heart skips a beat.

there it is.

that sparkle.

main masterlist

#stray kids oneshot #stray kids one shots #stray kids bang chan #skz bang chan one shot #skz bang chan imagine #skz bang chan angst #skz bang chan #skz one shot #skz oneshots #skz imagine #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz angst #skz fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #Spotify

[wonfilms]

w - tears, angst but hurt/comfort, mention of overworking

lee know has a sharp tongue, he knows that.  he says things he really doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment. even though you know that, it doesn’t help dull the pain of his words .  he immediately regrets what you were arguing about when he sees the tears in your eyes. he opens his mouth to say something, anything that could reverse the things that he said to you.   

when you didn’t come to bed that night he knew he messed up, big time. he’d hurt you more than he realised. you were usually quick to forgive and forget but he sees this time it’s not that simple. as much as he had tried to, he couldn’t fall asleep.  the bed felt cold and lonely without you laid next to him. he felt a lump of emotion build up at the back of his throat as he thought of you. 

you probably hated him, and he doesn’t blame you. 

“you’re so clingy, god you can’t leave me alone, can you?“ he replays the line he spat out at you in his head a hundred times over. what kind of boyfriend says that to someone they loved.  all you did was ask him to take a break,  he was stressed from work and yelled at you. you were just looking out for him and he hurt you, he couldn’t forgive himself. 

so now you were doing what he asked you to do, you were giving him all the space in the world... and he’s never felt more alone. 

he swallowed thickly as he stood up out of bed, grabbing a blanket on the way. he made his way to the living room where you were sleeping on the couch curled up,  hugging a pillow to your body. he sunk to his knees next to you before wrapping the blanket he bought around you. 

he laid his head against the couch and let the tears that were pricking at the corners of his eyes fall. his soft sniffles were all that echoed throughout the apartment. he felt his eyes widen as your fingers brushed through his hair. 

“god ‘m so so sorry y/n” he held your hand in his and looked up at you, “it’s okay min” you whispered, wiping the tears from his cheeks. he swears he’s never loved anyone more than you at that moment. you let him climb into your arms and you just held each other.  the two of you looked at each other with glossy eyes.

“you know i love you so much right? i was stressed and i didn’t mean what i said at all, and i know that’s no excuse but-” his rambling was cut off by you pressed a soft kiss upon his lips. 

you knelt your head against his and smiled. “ you hurt my feelings a little minho, but i know you didn’t mean it “ .

 “i didn’t mean it all, do you forgive me ?” he questioned softly, “i forgive you min, just please take a break when you need one, that’s all i want from you” you said as he sighed with relief, letting his head fall on your shoulder. “i promise i’ll take more breaks, ”

“i love you so so much” you said caressing his cheek gently.  “can you come back to bed with me?” he whispered touching his nose to yours, you nodded and that’s all he needed before he scooped you up into his arms. lee know knows there will always be disagreements between two people, however much they loved each other, but he never wanted it to get this bad again. he made a vow to him that however mean the argument got, he never wanted you to go to bed alone again. 

#-works #skz #skz angst #skz x reader #skz oneshots #stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #lee know #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee minho #skz minho #minho fluff #skz lee minho #lee minho x reader #minho angst #minho imagines #lee minho angst #minho scenarios