#stray kids lee know imagines

[zeroeightzeroone]

can't love you anymore - lee minho

genre: angst

pairings: non-idol!lee minho x gender neutral reader

warnings: one mention of alcohol

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 ~1.2k | moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

minho: hey, i'm gonna be there later than we planned the senior coworkers invited me out for drinks, you know i can't risk saying no to them sorry baby

the messages left you feeling indifferent.

in all honesty, you didn't really care that he would be coming later than planned; considering that this wouldn't be the first time pre-organized plans needed to be postponed or cancelled. by either of you.

of course, the disappointment had set in the first couple of times but eventually, it happened so often that it was to be expected. whether it be on the day of or a couple of hours before, a text or call would be incoming to the other's phone: both methods contained an explanation followed by a short apology. a brief "that's okay" or something similar in response.

you: it's fine get here safely later

minho: thank you baby, i'll see you later

it's become glaringly obvious that both of you were increasingly growing tired of the half-hearted apologies and the effortless responses that followed.

minho: i love you

you: i love you too

sometimes you found yourself wondering when your relationship started to feel like a chore.

when did exchanging words of affection become a part of the routine?

the words "i'm sorry" and "i love you" felt like more of a formality, the appropriate and go-to response between you two. the significance the words once held only faded into obscurity. the hints of remorse and urge to reconcile were gone, the words of affection and dedication now devoid of any meaning, falling flat when uttered. 

as usual, you choose to disregard those fleeting thoughts, using the hours before minho arrives to straighten out and clean up your apartment: throwing clothes into the washer and dryer, changing the sheets and cleaning whatever you saw fit.

at the same time you were trekking around through the unit looking for things to occupy yourself, minho found himself sitting in a grilled meat restaurant. the man seated surrounded by senior coworkers from different departments, the table full of a variety of meat cuts, side dishes and alcohol.

once all your household tasks are completed, you make your way into the living room and switch on the lights to illuminate the apartment unit. you settle down onto the couch, positioned next to the large windows, resting your cheek against your palm as you take in the view of the city.

the sky is slowly beginning to darken as the sun sets behind the skyline, your pointer finger tracing the droplets of rain trickling down the opposite side of the glass pane. the gentle pitter-patter of the raindrops and the pleasant aroma permeating through the crack of the opened window create a soothing environment within your apartment.

a series of soft vibrations captures your attention, drawing your gaze from the window to your phone. you pick it up from the couch armrest as the screen illuminates:

incoming call: minho

accepting the call, you bring the phone up to your ear.

"hello?" you speak into the microphone, "where are you?"

minho slips into the car and you hear the sound of rain-soaked cars and city chatter through his microphone. you catch a bit of his conversation with the cab driver before the door slams.

"i'm in a cab," he finally replies, another set of murmurs directed to the driver before his attention is back on you, "where are you?"

"i'm at home."

"okay, good. i told the driver to go there," minho's voice is dull, laced with exhaustion as he stares out the foggy windows of the taxi.

"are you sure?" you remove the phone from your ear, glancing at the time, "it's almost… 11pm, and it's raining like crazy outside."

"i'll be fine," minho brushes you off, "i'm already on the way."

suddenly you hear the man gasp.

"what? what's going on?"

minho's phone had dropped from his hold, landing next to him.

the impact had travelled through the microphone resulting in a thud on your end, followed by the sound of frantic movement. on the other end of the line, minho is patting down his coat, and his pants; focusing on the pocketed areas, before hurriedly flipping through his bag.

"shit," minho curses, "sir-"

"what's going on, minho?" you ask, even though he can't hear you.

the device is still resting next to him on the seat. your nosiness gets the best of you as you press the phone closer, as if that would help you hear any better.

"i'm so sorry but…" the rest of minho's sentence is inaudible, rendering you unable to decipher the conversation he's having with the driver.

you hear the car screech right before minho picks the phone up again, holding it up to his ear.

"what happened?" you wonder, brows knit together in confusion.

"i left my wallet at the bar," minho grumbles, "didn't realize 'till we drove away so we gotta go back.… hopefully it's still there." 

minho whispers the last part to himself, running a frantic hand through his hair.

"anyway, i'll be there soon," he clears his throat.

an audible sigh leaves your lips and travels down the line, prompting minho to say:

"i'm sorry."

"hmm…?" you hum, "for what?"

"just–" he pauses, thinking for a moment before continuing, "everything..."

you're wracking your brain to think of what to respond to minho, the apology catching you off guard.

it felt different.

the way he apologized was different from before.

this time it had meaning and intention behind it. you understood what he meant by "everything" without the need of any further explanation.

"just… go home minho," you breath out, "get your wallet and go home."

you don't have to say anything else.

there's no need to stand firm on your word as minho doesn't ask if you're sure, he doesn't insist on coming over.

instead, the line falls quiet. neither of you utter a word or make a move to break the connection.

you both just sit on the line silently.

the air between you and minho is uncomfortable and suffocating. leading minho to think the cab driver's picked up on the tense atmosphere as he clears his throat, fingers tapping on the wheel.

what a perfect time to be caught in traffic.

much like your plans, the end had been postponed and cancelled countless times.

you hoped to salvage what once was but every kiss, hug, and touch became meaningless.

"oh, hey–" your voices are low, barely even whispers as you and minho choose to break the silence at the same time.

your faces burning up as you both stammer, pushing the other to speak first.

"sorry…you first," you whisper.

"no, no. you."

you're sitting with your knees drawn up to your chest. in the cab, minho sits with his legs spread, tapping his fingers rhythmically on his thigh. his eyes blink slowly in anticipation.

"i– uh… never mind."

"no, what is it?"

"i don't think we're in love anymore."

there it is.

that one sentence changes everything, saying everything you both needed to, no further explanation is needed.

you both sit on the line as the silence makes an appearance in the atmosphere once again, only this time it's different; it's still, comforting, void of the suffocating weight it once had a few moments ago.

meanwhile, the storm outside progressively gets worse as the minutes pass. inevitably, the rain picks up, leaving you both with those last moments of silence in each other's presence before the signal cuts off.

the connection was lost.

main masterlist

#stray kids one shots #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz imagine #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz angst #stray kids angst #skz lee know angst #skz lee know imagine #skz lee know oneshot #stray kids lee know angst #stray kids lee know imagine #stray kids lee know one shot #stray kids lee know imagines #stray kids lee know oneshots #lee know angst #lee know imagine #lee know oneshot #Spotify

[chogiwow]

saudade | lee know

pairing: lee know x gn! reader

genre: angst, fluff

au: exes to eventual lovers

wc: 22k+

warnings: language, anxiety, breakup, insecurities, miscommunication, slowburn, too much wallowing, just sad vibes and mc and minho longing for each other :’(

a/n: repost !

one.

The breakup was messy.

That was partially true, because you were the one who had mostly shed all the tears, but in actuality, the week long sobered up you had admitted to your delusional counterpart that this wasn’t to be a game of blame.

Minho had your best interests at heart, you heard him out and even sympathised with the logic, but at the end of the day your exposed vulnerability had set up its self defences in favour of the innate need to let your feelings to the forefront, because after all, you had worn your heart on your sleeve.

It was a mechanism that had built its wall with excruciating pain of lifting every block of brick the deeper you looked into what you had thought to be a relationship; the fonder your actions, the bigger the amount of effort you had to put into picking up that brick. Everything you had done or said ran through your muscles in painful pricks, a jab at every crevice of your being a reprimanding ramification.

You refused to talk to the man, ignoring his presence in a room and revelling in the forlorn glances thrown your way. You likened your pathetic state to his downturned mouth, intentionally swerving out of his way and going as far as to feign ignorance at the mention of his cats; you weren’t weak.

That was a sentiment you were entitled to convince yourself of, save for the conforms of your room where you could sulk and let the tendrils around your heart tighten in a chokehold.

However, there was a satisfaction of feigning your days into careless smiles and easing yourself into old routines, because it came with the bittersweet taste of regret oozing from the man causing you your miseries, coating him with the consequences of his undertakings. It lead you to believe that the pettiness on your part was only justified.

But slipping back to old habits was not easy. You still laid the table for two sometimes, still brought out two blankets for days you slept in front of the television and still stumbled upon cat toys laying around your house. It made you angry at the way Minho had seeped into your life and left parts of him still etched in your memory that prompted you to preserve those small nothings in every corner of your apartment. It was tiring having to recall small moments of genuine happiness, floundering about searching for it and holding on to it for a moment too long for you to self acclaim yourself as ‘moved on’ and ‘over it all’.

This wasn’t good. You were far too invested in this even now and had to let go of the past in whatever way possible.

So when you were looking for a job, you were desperate enough to grab one at a 24/7 convenience store, even though that meant you would probably end up with a graveyard shift on the weekends, which for you worked perfectly fine if it was to be accounted for distracting you from your thoughts.

Now, you were not so sure you had made the right decision.

It was one thing to work there on weekends for the extra pay, but it was another to drag your exhausted self there after a week of academic torture, only too aware of the pile of assignments waiting for you back home that you hadn't even spared a glance at in the entire week.

This was yet another life choice you were obligated to put in the bag labelled 'questionable and regretful' along with a million others, but you were adamant to admit it regardless of the concerned gazes of your friends; you smiled and waved it off saying you were doing quite alright.

Minho didn’t buy it.

Every single thing that had happened since the breakup had weighed him down like a soaking wet bag of cotton stuffed inside his clothes, and much to nobody’s surprise at all, he blamed himself for your haggard state.

That was saying a lot because he would show up to lectures in his sweatpants and a hoodie, not even bothering to sit upright and pay attention, choosing to bury his throbbing head in his arms for the entire lecture.

The aftermath of the situation was not something he had foreseen and just sometimes he regretted having to be honest all the time. He was torn between this urge to turn back time and never say a word about it and the desire to give in to the constant ache in his chest whenever he saw you, thought of you or dreamt of you.

Minho had never felt this way; never had this contradicting impulsion of either slinking into his seat till he melted into the plastic or the itching spring in his feet that wanted to run to you and beg you for another chance.

He did want another chance, but you had been so frustratingly clear in drawing the line, he had to hold himself back from reaching out to you. He took a step back when you were near but smiled at you though you took no notice of him; let you borrow the book he had been waiting to read for a week, even though he had carefully hidden it away from other eyes; made sure you were hydrating even though he had to put up with Jisung’s whining about how weird it was to go up to you and hand you a bottle of juice (he paid Jisung ten dollars just to shut him up).

He pretended not to be hurt when you left the book on the table without borrowing it, put up with the tight tug at his chest when you refused to accept the drink deeming the heaviness in his chest deserving.

Minho is content watching you smile from afar at someone else he doesn’t know, at something he can’t make out from the way your lips move. He closes his eyes and hopes to forget the image of you ingrained in his memory and the past that he had already ruined seeps it’s way through the cracks of your image like tendrils of a vine.

But Minho was keen and observant of people he cared about.

“Hey (y/n),”

Sighing deeply to yourself you put up a perfunctory smile.

“That’ll be 900 won.”

“How are you doing? Jisung said you left class early yesterday,” Minho says, genuinity weaving through his voice and face, innocent worried eyes peeking from under his bangs that lay across his eyes.

“Peachy keen, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Are you sure? You look pale…”

“I’m fine, can you please pay now?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Will you pay already?”

Here’s the thing about pulling all nighters – it affects your ability to feign interest in conversations you would rather not be a part of and are especially thankful for customers on your shift who come in with clear intent of what they want and what they need, fortunately that only leaves you to deal with them quickly. So right now, you were on the edge of breaking and cracking your facade under the constant interrogation.

“I’m sorry, you just don’t look that well to me, and I’m worried about you.”

You are quick to resign yourself from feeling bad about Minho’s forlorn tone and large eyes that looked at you with sorrow; you felt like you had just told off a child for eating too many candies.

“Just…pay already,” you bite back the words waiting to tumble out of your lips any given second, then with a sigh add, “please.”

Minho fumbles around with his wallet, pulling out the bills and placing them on the counter, however, he doesn’t pick up the kimbap roll he had purchased.

“That’s for you,” he says, motioning towards the plastic covered roll with his chin as he tucked his wallet back into his pocket.

“What?”

“Don’t skip meals, it’s not healthy for you.”

You’ve obviously realised what was happening but before you could breathe out another word, you heard his hurried footsteps across the floor and the jingle of the bell above the door, leaving you leaning across the counter, your lips in the middle of protesting dismissal of his good will, but it’s already too late and you realise that with resentment as you watch the boy cross the street in a sprint and walk away, shoulders hunched and head bowed low. 

Minho may be content with watching you from afar, but he can be just as adamant as you are, and one day he hopes to make it all up to you, but until then he struggles against your cracking image, fighting against the vines that shoot past, resolute on resisting the damage of his own actions.

two.

You studied the box you were holding, flipping it over a few times in your hands, hearing the distinct rattle of small, hard somethings inside. You thought you could smell sugar, too. The box looked and felt expensive – the texture of it, the delicate ribbon looped and tied round it, the exactness of its corners. You tried to think of where or whom it could have come from. After all, you weren’t expecting anything, let alone anything important or special.

But that was definitely your name scrawled across the top of the box in a surprisingly fancy script.

You don’t recognise the handwriting, the penmanship was too exquisite.

“Look at you, got yourself a little secret admirer huh?” Jisung’s taunt was loud enough to turn a few heads your way and you felt yourself growing uncomfortably hot at the snickers you received, quickly retracting the box inside your bag, stuffing it in unceremoniously.

Your eyes momentarily flickered to your left where you knew Minho was sitting a few seats away on the row above yours, but he was busy talking to the small group of people surrounding him. He either didn’t hear or if he did, he didn’t care enough. Or maybe he did care, but just ignored it.

Not that you cared whether he noticed or not.

Turning towards the over excited boy beside you, you let out a heavy sigh at the smug grin on his face.

“I saw that,” his saccharine smile makes you flinch inwardly, the way he rested his elbow on the desk making you want to knock it off with a flick of your hand.

“Saw what?” you busy yourself taking out your supplies for the class, hoping that you wouldn’t have to be interrogated about the box inside your bag.

As it turns out, Jisung was not interested about the pandora’s box, well, in a way he was, but right now he was more interested in what he had just seen and that’s saying a lot because Jisung, contrary to his ridiculously short attention span in class and his usual aloofness to a lot of things, was a very observant person.

“I saw you looking at him,” there is a tantalising lilt to his words, one that makes you hover your hands around in the air as if caught red handed doing something bad, but you shake that feeling off with a well fed lie you’ve accustomed yourself to.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You only hear a hum of acknowledgement before being spared the further mortification of confrontation when the professor walks in. As the class settles down, mumbling a less than enthusiastic greeting at the professor, you slump over your desk, doing your best to have your face anywhere but in Jisung’s line of sight.

You don’t need to be in his peripheral vision, however, to lose your damn mind, because he happens to be very good at always having the last say of words.

“If it makes you feel better, he was looking at you too,” he whispers in your ear and though you don’t even dare acknowledge him, you can sense the smirk gracing his face, “perhaps loverboy there might have been a little jealous.”

You don’t say anything, but for the rest of your lecture you blatantly try to ignore the feeling of someone staring your back down.

Your innate ability to not even glance at Minho anymore was only at par with his ostentatious nonchalance at the same.

Before, you would always pass glances with him in classes, sticking your tongue out at him and then chortling silently when he just stared back at you with a deadbeat face, lips puckering out and the playful disdain in his head shake making you double over your desk, hiding away from your professor’s view.

Now your gaze remains stubborn on the presentation on the board, spinning your pen in one hand while resting your head on the palm of the other. He finds his eyes staring towards your bag, as if he could see the box you had stuffed inside if he stared hard enough, teeth biting onto his lips as he tapped his fingers on his desk nervously.

A nudge to his side jolts him from his state, narrowing his eyes at the culprit who was motioning in front with his head. If the implication was not enough, the telltale voice of the professor sounds out in good humour.

“Mr. Lee, if you would be so kind enough to pay your attention to my lecture rather than (y/n)’s back, I would appreciate it.”

A chorus of snickers and giggles breaks out, immediately shushed out by the professor who seemed to be enjoying the indulgence none the same.

You burned in your seat, sinking your head further down under the teasing eyes directed towards you, kicking Jisung under the table when he snickered loud enough to elicit a few more giggles and yet you never turned around to glare at the man causing you your miseries. God, only Minho would get caught in class for something like this!

Even if you did manage to cool down your face, tugging at the neck of your shirt and fanning yourself when the professor’s back was turned, your mind was churning with a trainwreck of thoughts, most of which was making you fumble around, unable to pay attention to anything except the loud buzzing in your ears. Consciously, you straighten your back and cross your legs under the table only to wiggle around in your seat when you realise there wasn’t enough leg space to do that. Your embarrassment increases tenfold.

Minho is not spared as the victim to his share of awkwardness as he all but clears his throat a little too loudly and every breath he takes sounds magnified now. It doesn't help that you stand out like a sore thumb in his eyes, fidgeting in your seat, obviously uncomfortable.

His chances of redemption were looking staggeringly low, any likelihood that you would not hate him more than you already did after he put you under public awkwardness was a shot in the dark.

When the class ended, you were the first one to dash out of the door, almost dropping the books you were trying to stuff inside your bag while sprinting across the floor. Safe to say, Minho didn’t chase you, saving his red faced apology for later.

three.

Minho was a good cook.

He knew exactly how much salt the marination required and the seasoned experience of how long he should let the broth simmer. What he didn’t know was how to bake, and he was in the very middle of doing exactly that; it would be safe to say that even though the general conundrums were proving to be back-breaking and the results were highly questionable, he hasn’t burnt anything down, yet.

An array of ingredients lie about, covering every inch of the workstation Felix had wiped clean only that morning, the powdered flour like snow on the slab and the salted chocolate mix sitting abandoned with an egg-covered whisk in it. Maybe Felix died a little inside but the state of his kitchen in shambles would have been slightly more concerning had it not been for the flour covered man sitting amidst the mess, eyes frantically skimming through a cookbook with splatters of batter speckled on it, hair sticking out like a madman caught in the middle of a very traumatic experience in a particularly intense episode of a Gordon Ramsey cook-off.

“Do I want to know?”

Felix started off timidly, torn between comforting his visibly distraught friend and suppressing an itching urge to reach out for the rag sitting so alluringly on his counter and wipe the whole thing down like it never happened in the first place.

Which were Minho’s sentiments exactly at this point, except he just wished he could start all over again.

He resigns with a sigh, slumping against the counter and abandoning his fifth batch of batter, the whisk clinking against the glass bowl, his heavy breath sifting the stray flour on the counter in the act.

“I used salt in the batter,” he says, hanging his head lower and lower as if it were a physical amalgamation of how he was losing one brain cell per second just standing there in the kitchen that smelt like chocolates and it was honestly making him sick.

“Fucking salt in place of sugar Lix, I don’t know what to do anymore…”

It only takes another heavy sigh on his end and his very much flour covered hands rubbing at his face for Felix to make his decision; Minho needed help, good lord he needed help.

“Hyung…” Felix was quick to move around the counter towards his elder, gently pulling him into a hug only to feel the telltale warmth of tears soaking through his shirt and grazing his shoulder. This was concerning.

“Hyung, talk to me, please.”

A part of Minho knows that this sudden exposure to an incorrigible vulnerability was scaring the younger boy, undoubtedly because he had never put his feelings on display like this, and that part was telling him to stop because if anything, he didn’t want to be an inconvenience, but this only made him sob harder.

Felix was inevitably taken aback at the sudden outburst, but he could not ignore the growing suspicion that this was more than frustration over failed baking endeavours. Minho did the best he could, but he would never break down completely over things he could not achieve, maybe pissed but never so despaired to shed tears over it.

“Why can’t I make some stupid fucking chocolates!” a sniffling intervention cut through, Minho’s sobs almost immediately ceasing as he rubbed at his eyes vigorously, a very alarmed Felix left to blink at the sudden change.

“Okay… a penny for your thoughts?”

Minho sniffs again, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve and carding a hand through his hair before explaining.

“I’ve been trying,” Minho shoves the recipe book in front of his roommate’s face, “to make this for two hours now, and I keep fucking up.”

Felix creases his brow at the said recipe for salted caramel chocolates, eyes flickering in confusion between the man waving it in front of him and the newly ignited frustration in his eyes before venturing hesitantly.

“Hyung, you don’t even like this…”

Whatever it was about those six words seemed to have drenched out the fury in Minho’s eyes, for he blinked rapidly as if flickering between the numerous emotions he was suddenly exposed to, only to look away abashedly.

“It’s not for me,” his words, though mumbled out softly, seemed to have stuck themselves down his throat, a visibly forced will to have them tumble through his mouth and even then they lingered in the heavy air.

A sudden realisation dawns on Felix, but before he can think anything of it, he’s blurting it out in a loud voice, surprising to even his own ears.

“What the fuck hyung, are you serious?!”

“I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah, you’re digging your own grave is what you’re doing, glad we’re clear on that.”

Felix isn’t a particularly spiteful person, but his words come out implying such a sentiment against his better judgement. Nobody can blame him because he had a firsthand experience of the complete trainwreck that The Breakup was (it was mutually decided by your friend group to capitalise on the rather dreadful affair) to the point where he had felt like he had been at least one of the involved person on more than one occasion; he was clearly upset and trepid about Minho’s sudden endeavours.

“You’re making it sound so bad,” Minho could all but huff out, crossing his arms across his chest challengingly.

“What part of gifting your ex handmade chocolates on valentine’s day doesn’t sound like a bad idea?” Felix challenged slightly more intensely.

“I never said I was going to give it to (y/n)!”

“Oh yeah, so you’re telling me you haven’t been moping around for months around the house looking like a war widow mourning the death of your husband–”

“That’s an oddly descriptive–”

“– are you seriously telling me you’re not making (y/n)’s favorite chocolates right now?”

“Have I really been looking like a war widow?”

“Hyung!”

“Jesus Lix, I’m trying to make things right!”

“By giving your ex handmade chocolates?? On valentine’s day?!”

“What part of making things right did you not understand?”

“What part of the word ‘ex’ did you not understand?”

“Okay look,” Minho sighs, leaning back against the counter, “I know this is crazy but…I feel like – I feel so…I have to make things right.”

There was a finality to his words but held a lot more things unsaid in a way they couldn’t be put through mere syllables. Felix knew how hard Minho had taken it upon himself; you had almost entirely dissociated yourself for a week and when you were back, it had seemed like Minho was nothing but a figment of your imagination that had occurred and now you were up and awake from that fantasy as if reality itself had slapped you in the face, leaving behind a harsh mark imprinted on your cheek.

It was jarring, to say the least, and your mutual friend circle had been obligated to tiptoe around the two of you until you had entirely removed yourself to save them all the awkwardness. Though it was a relief to not have to hold his breath when he was stuck with you two in a room, he was not, and neither were any of your friends, happy about the way you were distancing yourself for their sake. He would be more than happy to have his friends back together, though exempting whatever sentiments you had towards Minho, but whatever this was, Felix had an inkling that it wasn’t Minho’s brightest ideas.

“You know why you guys broke up right?”

Felix’s baritone is like a huge boulder that resounds within Minho’s chest with a dull thud, weighing upon his conscience and his cautious tone tears it through moments later.

When Minho doesn’t answer, Felix ventures to say,

“Hyung, none of us were too happy when we found out, in fact Chan was mad at you and I’ve never seen him lose his cool like that. Are you positively sure that this is something you want to make amends for already?”

Some distant voice in Minho’s head was vigorously nodding along and cling on to every word Felix said; he would like to believe that it was because he was being logical, but in reality he was scared, and had it not been the strong scent of burnt chocolate he inhaled in the few seconds he let himself mull over his words, he probably would have seeked solace in the precautionary counsel and given up.

In hindsight, he would have grown to regret that decision as well had he actually gone through with it, but he realised that even if you ended up hating his guts and purposefully tried to mend a wound that he had no experience nor the know-how about, he would have deserved it all and so much more.

The familiar throbs of dull thuds start to creep up along his forehead, his eyes closing on their own accord as the numbness settles in. Minho was far away from his thoughts at such times, a momentary relief from all the churning and buzzing his mind was otherwise bare to, letting the pain slowly seep through his entire head till he was drowning in it.

“Will you help me?”

The request is barely mumbled, devoid of any intonation, but Felix knows that this was a call for help and there was no turning back for his roommate now.

“Fine,” he concedes, “but I don’t want my name being dragged into this, I’m only helping you because I don’t want you to wreck my kitchen.” This was Minho’s kitchen as much as it was his.

Minho only nods with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

four.

“Minho did what?!”

That’s it, Felix was signing up for new friends – preferably friends who did not potentially get him kicked out of the library for yelling.

He shushes Jisung with a violent wave of his hands, fingers pressing upon his lips as did so many other people sitting beside him, their glares of annoyance turned upon the duo who bowed in apology.

“That was Minho?” Jisung yells in a whisper, eyes wide open and books long abandoned in pursuit of what he had cited as “hot tea”. Felix wondered whether he had made a mistake after all, telling his friend about it.

“Yes, but you’re not supposed to tell anyone!”

“What? Why not?”

“Because ughh,” Felix stressed, lowering his tone and leaning across the table, “Minho doesn’t want (y/n) to know it’s him, that’s why the fancy printed note!”

As if the world had finally started making sense to him, Jisung’s mouth forms into an o, eyes widening further till his eyebrows disappear under his bangs.

“Hold on, I thought Minho wanted to apologise, then why would he be so secretive about this all?”

“That’s the thing, he says he’s sure (y/n) would shut him down if they knew it was him.”

“Wow, so what, he’s trying to make them fall for him again?”

Jisung chuckles at his own theory, the mere idea sounding ridiculous in his head but his smile fades slightly when Felix doesn’t answer.

“That’s the thing, I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what he’s trying to do…”

Jisung can’t say anything, quite literally, he’s been rendered speechless by this bit of information. Although, the sappy part of him agrees that it was slightly romantic, sans the part where Felix was adamant on sticking to his ‘ex stalking their ex’ theory, but really, if you ignored all those pessimistic vibes, you would have yourself a sweet little reconciliation story.

“You know what,” he says after a while, his words slow and calculative “I don’t think (y/n) is completely over him either.”

Raising a brow in question, Felix urges him to go on.

“It’s just the way this entire thing played out, you know? I know for a fact that (y/n) believed him when he…uh…confessed, and I think they would have given him a chance. Minho hyung was so adamant too…”

The pair falls silent, staring vacantly at their books, both undoubtedly lost in a stream of their shared conscience that had been prodded when the subject in question had been brought up. Felix is the first to speak after having stared at the words on his page that blurred around the edges, seemingly floating on the white void.

“You think we should have stopped him?”

Jisung glances up briefly, their eyes meeting and a pang of regret hits him square in the chest.

“I think so. Do you think we should stop him now?”

Felix shakes his head in denial, “It’s already done and he’s too stubborn. I just hope none of them have to get hurt more than they already have.”

Jisung twiddles his thumb around his pen, tapping his foot under the table when he spots you making your way over, a bunch of books in your hands and the strap of your bag barely keeping up on your shoulder. You try to dump all your belongings as quietly as you can, but he can clearly hear your panting as if you had run all the way to the library.

“Hey guys, Hyunjin was trying to get me to volunteer for the Sweet Treats ughh, I don’t think I’ve ever run this fast in my life.”

You huff away a strand of loose hair that falls across your eye, slumping in your seat with a laborious breath and greet the two boys.

“Sweet Treats huh? Hwang is what, the running president for the third year in a row now?” Jisung scoffs, squeezing the nib of his pen absentmindedly on the table, leaving an ink stain in its wake.

You exchange a knowing glance with Felix; it was no secret that Jisung had harboured a major crush on Hyunjin since the first day they had met. There was nothing to hide about it, but Hyunjin himself was obliviously unaware of the blatant flirting and stuttering compliments. It was amusing to see Jisung lose his cool over his nonchalance, it was like watching someone be furious at someone because they were too cute – which was exactly what it was.

It was typical of Hyunjin to try and recruit volunteers for fests, especially during valentine’s week and being the president of the cultural club gave him the liberty of persuading students with free coffee and extra curricular credits, and he didn’t mind the flirting.

Jisung hated volunteering because he was always stuck with decorating the gym or carrying heavy boxes, but he could never say no to Hyunjin’s incessant whining and puppy eyes.

“How about you ask him out? Like you do when you like someone…like a normal person, rather than sulk over some guy’s pouty lips?” Felix sniggers, making you stifle a giggle.

“Oh shut up,” Jisung flushes, his ears turning redder by the second.

“Are you gonna volunteer this year?” you ask Jisung who was still trying to stop fiddling about in his seat.

“You know he can’t say no to Hyunjin,” Felix supplies from beside you, squawking when he receives a pen straight to his head, immediately apologising for the disturbance. You hide your head in your hands, trembling with laughter, catching vague whisper yellings of ‘shut up!’ and ‘what the fuck?!’.

If you thought you had escaped the clutches of Hyunjin’s request, you were mistaken and you should have known better because there was no way he would give up that easily and that is how you find the seat in front of you suddenly occupied and a very flushed and surprised Jisung sitting beside the boy, tightlipped and glaring at Felix who now looked constipated.

“Hyunjin…” you groan, smiling at him painfully. He returns the gesture with a smile that looked too victorious considering he hadn’t even made the proposal yet.

“I’m gonna ignore the fact that you ran away when you saw me if you agree to volunteer for Sweet Treats,” he starts, brushing his long hair back with his fingers; you had a very accurate suspicion behind his intentions, but one look at his smug grin made you bite back your words. Instead, you shrug.

“I don’t care Hyunjin, but I don’t think I can spend weeks cutting out heart shaped streamers and filling heart shaped balloons with heart shaped confettis and leave heart shaped invitations all around the campus,” at this point you wanted to barf at the sheer amount of times you had said the words ‘heart’ aloud, cringing at the very thought of al those things you just stated.

“Come on (y/n),” Hyunjin whines like the child he is, leaning forward and holding your hand in a vice-like grip before shaking you back and forth, “It’s free coffee and credits, you love both of those!”

“I like both,” Jisung coughs in the back, momentarily catching Hyunjin’s attention who engages with the boy. You think you’re saved and are about to thank Jisung who was already agreeing to everything Hyunjin had to say, nodding along indulgently, but alas, you are fated to have a heart-y valentine’s week after all.

“So (y/n), how about we make a deal–”

“Hyunjin, no–”

“No heart filled work for you if you help with the new booth this year,” Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows at you alluringly, tempting you to urge him but you don’t, so he continues after a dramatic pause of breath, “we’re going to do a radio show!”

“A radio show? How does that even work?” Felix leans forward earnestly, his attention finally piqued.

“We’re rolling out a portal where people can send in their confessions anonymously, or not, a week before the 14th and all you have to do is read them out through the day of the festival. It would be like little announcements, very romantic.”

“You want me to read out confessions?”

“Yes, Seungmin’s gonna be there too!”

“We never did this before, so why now?”

“Well, we’re trying out new stuff and a lot of people seemed to have something of this sort from last year’s suggestion feedback, so we decided why not.”

You considered his proposition, crossing your arms across his chest with your eyes narrowed at him, trying to decipher what the catch was.

“I won’t have to make heart shaped decorations then?”

“Nope,”

“And you won’t have me fill up balloons with a shit ton of pink and red confetti either?”

“I give you my word, I won’t.” Hyunjin solemnly puts a hand on his chest and shakes his head.

“All I have to do is read out confessions?”

Hyunjin hums in agreement, adding, “You can divide them with Seungmin if there’s too many or you can figure it out yourself. 3racha also agreed to have the PA systems working and DJ.”

“Hold on,” Jisung intervenes swiftly, “I’m a part of 3racha, why was I not aware of this?”

“Oh no, you sir,” Hyunjin ruffles his hair with a smile, “are helping me out in the photography booth.”

Jisung can only splutter, you’re not sure whether it was because Hyunjin had just ruffled his hair or basically claimed a stake on him, but you had a feeling it was both.

“What’s it going to be (y/n), are you in?”

Reading out confessions…how bad could that possibly be? At the most you were either going to coo at the adorable love letters or cringe till your fingers were physically unable to unclench from a fist. But you supposed it was better than having to be covered in glitter and glue and craft paper.

“Alright, but you better keep your word Hwang,” you concede with some hesitance, unsure of how exactly you were supposed to feel about this.

Hyunin smiles at you gratefully and before leaving ropes in a chortling Felix who was having fun at the expense of Jisung being a flustered mess, into helping at the baking booth.

You sigh in defeat; maybe it would be better to not have any expectations at all.

five.

There was still more than a week before the anonymous confession portal was going to be put out, and even though you tried not to let the visible ‘lovesickness’ in the air get to you, it was proving to be difficult when you were yourself a frequent receiver of chocolate boxes and flowers and even drinks and muffins that were already paid for!

It certainly wasn’t helping that the notes were always printed and there was quite literally no trace of the sender, and that was what had brought you here right now, in this predicament.

“Who do you think it could be?” you ask, peering at the floral patterns on the ivory coloured box that had chocolates inside, hoping that if you stared hard enough, it would reveal it’s deepest and darkest secrets.

Felix shrugs nonchalantly, typing away furiously on his phone, barely paying any attention to the object of your interest that was slowly starting to give you a headache. It was one thing to have a secret admirer, but it was another to receive gifts from them that were uncannily to your taste and liking.

The first time, you had let it slide as a coincidence on finding out the chocolates were salted caramel flavoured – your favourite, but the second and third time were hard to pass as believable.

Even today, you found yourself being handed a warm cup of vanilla latte, just the way you liked it, the barista informing you with a knowing smile that it had already been paid for. You flushed when she giggled and winked at you, leaving you to hastily make your way to where Felix was waving at you from, scooting as far away as you could till you were basically pressed up against the wall, your head in hands as you groaned in embarrassment. Felix was having the time of his life, clicking pictures of you and the warm cup of coffee and the box of chocolates you had tossed on the table with a grunt, undoubtedly saving them for blackmail later on.

Now as you regard the box of chocolates in front of you, you force your mind to come to a blank because the only person you can think of is Minho, and it was driving you crazy. All your stupid little braincells could do was chant in his name in tiny font, growing louder by the second, even though you wouldn’t associate him with something like this – giving presents for the entirety of valentine’s was just not his thing, he would rather you both skipped the crowded cafes with lovesick couples. This was so not him, and yet…yet! Your stupid little mind could do nothing but think of him!

“Maybe they’ll confess on valentine’s day?” Felix, finally putting his phone aside, supplies helpfully.

“I would rather they didn’t,” you scowl, nonetheless opening the box and eating one of the chocolates. They were good, damn it.

Cocking a brow at you in amusement, he reaches for one too, suppressing a moan at how good these were; damn, Minho was getting better at this.

“I just…I don’t think I want any part in any of this, especially now when…”

Felix doesn’t have to prod at you to know why you left your words hanging in the air, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly panicked at the prospect. If you were already showing resistance to the very notion of what could perhaps be a simple crush, how would you react if you found out it was Minho?

“Lix, they gave me blueberry muffins yesterday for breakfast, it’s as if they knew I didn’t have time for breakfast on Wednesdays and ordered me some! It’s honestly a bit creepy, how do they know so much about me or is this all a coincidence?”

Okay, maybe Minho was not the best at being subtle and he made a point to tell him that later.

“It’s a bit overwhelming, what if they think I’m leading them on? But the thing is, I don’t even know who it is, and for some reason I keep thinking that it’s Minho but–”

You stop in your words abruptly, turning your wide eyes towards Felix who had the small beginnings of a smug grin creeping up his lips.

“That’s not what I meant,” you hastily explain, scrambling up from your seat.

“I believe you,”

“Don’t sound so patronising!”

“What if it is Minho though?”

“It’s not him, I know him and he wouldn’t do something like this.”

You’re stubborn in your opinion, perhaps a bit more stronger off the front than you would be because of the previous slip up, but now that you say it out aloud, you realise how ridiculous it sounds for Minho to plant gifts in your locker and order you breakfast on Wednesdays. Or was it?

It was. It was, it was, it was!! Maybe if you said it enough times like a mantra, it would be true. Maybe it was true and you didn’t need to worry about it, but why would you worry all the same? You didn’t want it to be him; you wouldn’t be disappointed if it weren’t him.

The only adversity in this whole ordeal is that it’s got you thinking about him again.

Though you had managed to stay away from the endless possibilities of this mystery admirer, your mind kept drifting to one particular guy, his sharp nose and soft lips like a permanent engraving in your thoughts and the 15% special discount on products for valentine's week where you worked didn’t help console you.

Scanning an enormous box of pepero sticks, you force yourself to smile at the girl who had purchased it, still in high school with the slightest blush tinting her cheeks, no doubt thinking of the person she had bought it for.

“Would that be all?” you smile, handing her the packet.

She shakes her head, bowing thankfully before leaving the store.

It was getting late, your shift only an hour away from ending. The sky outside was softening it’s hue to a darker blue, the onset of spring preventing nightfall from setting in early. Glancing around the store, you figure you would restock the chocolates section, since it was running low after the immeasurable amount of purchases in the last hour itself.

Abandoning your post from the counter, you retrieve the stock in a basket from the pantry, moving along the aisles, careful not to knock down anything else. In the middle of reaching the last aisle where the shelf was, the front door opens, a fainter tinkling resounding to the back and you yell out a hasty “be right there!’ before dumping the box on the ground and heaving out a sigh of relief.

“Hi, sorry, how can I–”

Well wasn’t this a surprise.

“How can I help you?” there it was, the uncanny rigidity in your voice at the sight of Minho. Your eyes stray down, the white and black patterns on his pants painfully familiar, but it brings a smile to your lips.

As if aware of your observation, Minho shuffles timidly on his spot, internally banging his head on a wall in embarrassment. Why, of all days, did he have to saunter into the convenience store wearing the cat pyjamas you had gifted him on Christmas!

Moving on instinct, Minho joins you in the back of the store, rummaging around the instant ramen section and picking up a few bags of crisps while you restocked the chocolates, patiently waiting for you at the counter. You don’t make him wait too long, skipping across the basket and hurrying to check him out.

“Will that be all?” you ask, handing him his stuff and gulping when your fingers brush.

He nods before placing the roll of kimbap on the desk and sliding it across you. You sigh.

“Let me guess, this is for me?”

“Don’t skip–”

“–your meals, yes I know and I haven’t been skipping them; you don’t have to do this you know.”

Your words came out harsher than intended, although you had not been purposeful about it, but the brief flash of hurt in Minho’s eyes resounds through your chest with a loud gong, the bottomless pit in your stomach opening up and you feel yourself free falling in the darkness. When did you become this mean?

“Right, of course. I’m sorry if I came off too overburdening,” Minho starts in a soft voice, his eyes never leaving the spot on the counter, too vulnerable to meet yours as his fingers dig into the plastic in his hands, the crinkling sound of it barely of any comfort. You think you can hear yourself breaking his heart, and even though that was what you had intended since the beginning, seeing him hurt made you feel ashamed to have been the reason for it.

“That’s not what I meant…” it’s not even an apology, but it was a weak attempt at one.

Minho says nothing, smiling at you before turning away and leaving through the door.

The door shuts behind him, the bell tinkling briefly before the sound fades away and you’re left alone in the store with your thoughts, staring at the roll of kimbap and wondering whether this had been worth it.

six.

Minho finds himself bumping into you more often than not these days.

The added cheerfulness of the people around him buzzing about the valentine’s festivities, if he dared to call it that, rubbed him all the wrong ways as he felt his resolve grow smaller day by day when he saw you in the halls or the library or laughing along with someone.

Not much has changed; you still avoid him but you don't necessarily ignore his presence in a room. You falter in your steps, blinking away when you catch his eyes, but you don’t ignore his smile across the room, acknowledging it with an awkward nod of head. It’s weird, to have to tread cautiously, but it’s Minho – the extent of your apology would only go so far as long as you had one feet dipped in a civil apology that functioned as a way to carry the load of guilt and the other feet in the conscious reminder that this was Minho – your ex and someone you could not be comfortable around yet.

Minho didn’t try to offer you any more food on his occasional trips to the convenience store which seemed to have increased to one visit per day, but you didn’t chide him for leaving a bottle of flavoured milk or a chocolate bar behind.

You both were toeing around this invisible line that you convinced yourself to consider a huge barrier, which would have been easy to blur had it not been for the constant, painful reminders of all the couples around you walking hand in hand or kissing in the hallways. It’s like someone had suddenly injected a huge amount of pheromones in the air and everybody except you was drenched in it.

Moreover, you were additionally drenched in an immeasurable number of anonymous confessions, ranging from ridiculously cheesy pickup lines to a “my honeybun <3” and to much tsundere versions of a typical bad-boy vibe you couldn’t help but grimace at; at least they tried, so A for the efforts.

As the days passed by, you kept dreading having to read some of these aloud, unsure of whether you would be able to keep the grimace out of your voice and Seungmin seemed to share the sentiment. Although, a part of you did admit this to being romantic, you didn’t stop yourself from joining Seungmin when he threw dirty glances across the table at Hyunjin, who, the hopeless romantic that he was, seemed to be cooing at almost all the letters you had received.

“Stop giving me the stink eye, you’re just jealous you don’t have a date for valentine’s,” Hyunjin never held back on his smugness when teasing Seungmin, his urge fuelled by the disgust on the latter’s face.

“I don’t think I need any more of that in my life after going through this hell,” Seungmin points accusingly at his screen where he was scrolling through the inbox full of anonymous messages.

The three of you sat in the computer lab, going through all the mail you had received and checking to make sure they were all appropriate to be read out loud on the day of, a precaution Hyunjin had insisted upon and you had found common logic in, although nothing so far had been of that nature, except the over the top cheesiness that you had tortured yourself with through the two hours you had spent. At this point you would willingly bang your head on the wall in hopes of at least having a concussion and passing out.

You are given a respite from your miseries when the door to the room opens, Minho trailing in with his bag on his shoulder and looking straight in your direction. Some respite.

Hyunjin waves him over with a smile while you slump in your seat, listening in to their conversation but not taking part in it.

“Is that the anonymous mailbox?” Minho asks, suddenly leaning forward and peering at your screen. Startled by the sudden proximity, you wheel your chair away slightly, but his hand comes to rest at the back and now you’re trapped between his frame and the desk. 

You steal a furtive glance at his face, the tip of his nose illuminated by the screen light and glowing, his eyes blinking slowly while Hyunjin rambles in the background. Averting your gaze, you find Seungmin already looking at you two, smugly leaning back in his chair and hiding a smile. You shoot him a glare.

Minho glances at you carefully, smiling at the way your eyes flicker between him and the computer before finally settling away from him. He doesn’t hear much of what Hyunjin says, painfully aware of the distance between you two and the invisible barrier you had put up that he had yet to cross over.

He was trying, really. He kept looking for a door he could knock at, a loose link or a crack in the bottom, but the more he searched the longer the wall extended, going on and on for as far as his eyes could make out. Minho was starting to convince himself that he had lost the chance he had once had, and that he would never find that door you had willingly left wide open for him.

The sudden realisation dampened his mood, the proximity getting harder to bear when he knew he could reach out and touch your face and tuck your hair and kiss you. How had he taken it all for granted back then? When he could have easily sneaked up behind you and hugged you tight, when he could have kissed you for days on end but he whined when you did, when he could have let himself be vulnerable to his feelings; time had run out for him, leaving him feeling empty and uncertain of what the future held and the moss and dirt covering the deep dark pit in his chest start to rumble and fall apart.

His bag weighs him down, the box of chocolates inside becoming heavier by the second and the churning pit in his stomach gurgling in anxiety and precariousness. He doesn’t hope to find a door now, but he does hope that the apology he leaves by the wall is gone the next time he comes. That you would consider, but he knows not to push his boundaries and he had anticipated as much that he would no longer have the free pass to a mistake he could kiss away or buy his way out with coffee.

And although it hurts, he does not regret the time he spends on it. It was always meant to be for you. He does not expect you to forgive him all at once. So he keeps looking. Until the choice is an actual decision to open the door or turn around and look for a path that will take him somewhere else.

In fact, making you chocolates and buying you breakfast did not guarantee that either, nor was he trying to weasel his way in that way, but it was a step he took because he was desperate to even prove to himself that he cared after all. Of course he cared, he can’t believe he thought otherwise.

Seemingly done examining whatever was on your screen, Minho retracts his face away but remains standing with his hand on your chair while conversing with Hyunjin. You catch the faint whiff of a sweet scent, a familiar trace of vanilla you vaguely remember having a faint recollection of, but you can’t quite place it in your memory.

Minho doesn’t stay long, only there in the first place to collect his printouts. His hand brushes against your hair gently when he leaves; you're still mulling over the sugary sweet scent, your fragmented mind unable to quite let go of it.

seven.

“Look, if you’re worried about Minho, he’s not going to be at home.” Felix assures you on the other end of the line.

“Doesn’t he only have afternoon classes today?” you counter.

The pause is enough to make your face flush, and you’re thankful the boy himself is not here to tease you about it.

“I’m going to pretend you don’t remember his schedule–”

“It was a habit, I don’t–”

“My point is, you won’t run into him so can you please, please, please do me this favour?”

You sigh and groan, slumping further down your bed if that were physically possible, your pyjama clad legs sprawled lazily across the mattress and your phone squished in between your cheek and the pillow. Felix was really making you get off your bed on your one day off of class just to run an errand that would ultimately have you go to campus. Damn him.

“It’s not him, I just don’t wanna get up,” you groaned, and it was true. You didn’t care if you bumped into Minho or not, you were far too relaxed in the comfort of your bed that even the thought of getting up exhausted you, “besides, ask Minho, he’s your roommate.”

“If only he picked up my calls! I bet you anything he’s fast asleep and can’t hear his phone ringing over his snores,”

“Minho snores?” you’re mildly curious at this new piece of information, but try not to show too much interest in it.

“Not the point ughh are you listening to me?! My prof’s gonna kill me if I don’t hand in my assignment today and it counts for twenty percent of my entire grades, I need your help!”

You were already out of bed the moment he had started his spiel once again, you knew he would just repeat what he had said all over so you put the phone on speaker and grumpily tugged on a pair of jeans, tossing the tom and jerry pyjamas with a hole in the bottom on your unmade bed and waddled to your sock drawer.

“–I promise I will buy you coffee the entire week, I swear I will but if I fail this assignment then I’m going to make sure it weighs on your conscience forever that you could have helped a friend in need but you didn’t and then he failed his class and had to repeat an entire year and probably went into depression because god forbid I was idiot signing up for advanced calculus and economics in the same semester but regardless, you failed me as a friend and–”

“Felix, if you don’t stop, I’m going to throw you down the stairs when I come over.”

“You’re coming over?!”

“Yes,” you sigh grumpily, out of your door by this time and hobbling on foot as you try to put your shoe on, balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

“Only when you need something from me,”

“Chivalry is not dead.”

“Shut up.”

Felix doesn’t live that far away from you. It’s a fifteen minute walk from your dorm to his, twenty five if you stop in the way to pet a cat or dog, and there’s always a cat or dog, which is a sort of harsh yet not quite, reminder of memories attached to the long walks made bearable with the presence of a certain someone, which is funny because you just realised that now all of that is put in a box labelled ‘memories’ and that is certainly weird given your unfamiliarity to the sentiment and any suspicions of the same back when they weren’t memories.

You resist the innumerable sighs just tingling at the back of your throat; it’s too early for this.

It’s only when you’ve entered Felix’s apartment with the spare key in the teapot plant that you realise what you’ve walked into – a kitchen that looks like it’s gone through the seven layers of hell with an array of baking equipment scattered all over the counter. The boy himself had an apron on with splatters of batter specking the fabric. He doesn’t notice you, and he's definitely not expecting you.

“Why did you call so many– (y/n)?!”

“Uhh…hi?”

You roam your eyes at his condition, taking in his bewildered face and failing to hide your own surprise at seeing him bake for the first time.

“Felix sent me to get his project…it’s in his room, so I’ll just…” with an awkward gait you try crossing the distance across the kitchen and Felix’s room, ignoring the way Minho was now cowering. You want to laugh because you’ve never caught him so off guard and this would be an otherwise hilarious situation had you not been shocked by the domesticity of seeing him with a whisk, the scent of chocolate wafting through the air like a warm hug.

The minute you’re out of sight, Minho scrambles to his room, digging around for a decent shirt to put on, grimacing and mentally slapping himself when he looks into the mirror and sights the batter stained clothes. Why were you always catching him in his worst state these days?!

The blue folder Felix had told you about was on his desk, laying amongst a pile of clutter that ranged from rolled up balls of napkins and coffee stained sheets of rough papers. Grimacing at the mess, you pull the file out from under the pile of trash but it manages to knock over the precariously balanced advanced calculus books on his desk which fall to the ground before you can manage to save them.

With a resigned sigh, you bend to pick them up, stacking them in a smaller stack this time when your phone lights up, the caller ID you had expected to pop up but nonetheless making you roll your eyes. You pick up reluctantly.

“Did you get it, are you there yet?” the panicked baritone from the other end is slightly drowned by the chattering in the background.

“I just got it, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” you reply, picking up the final book and making your way out of the room with brisk steps.

“Fifteen?!” Felix shrieks into your ear making you flinch, “my class starts in five minutes, you have to get there by then!”

“Just wait out in the hallway, surely your prof’s not gonna kill you for being ten minutes late.”

“No, probably not but I’ll have to do that walk of shame ten minutes into the class and sit in the front seat…can’t you just run?”

“Felix I’m not running,” you retort sternly.

“I can drive you,” the new voice makes you turn around, Minho standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, eyes expectantly boring into yours.

“Is that Minho hyung? Great, he can drive you, I’ll see you in five minutes!”

“No, Felix–”

The beeping sound indicates that he had already hung up and you are resigned to hesitantly lower your phone from your ear and regard Minho cautiously as if you were gauging his intentions.

“It won’t take long if I just drive and Felix will probably chew your head off if we keep him waiting for too long, so let’s go,” Minho is already running a hand through his hair which is still very dishevelled while snatching his car keys from.

Quite literally, you find yourself being ushered out and into his car that you had been so accustomed to a few months ago, seemingly having no say in the matter that had been decided upon by the two roommates. You’re still in denial of the whole nostalgic sentiments resurfacing when you’re so much so close to an old habit like now, finding yourself sitting in his car as he drives you to campus. It still smells like lemon fresheners and the seats are still covered in cat hair that sticks to your jeans. You can almost hear the reminiscents of the shared laughter and kisses that had accompanied the long night drives and the coffee stain on the back seat that had remained engraved on the fabric from nights ago.

And like so many other times, your hand itches to just reach out and smoothen his tousled hair and tuck the label of his shirt under the collar and pull him in for a chaste kiss. The scent of chocolate that lingers on his clothes is overpowering, the sweetness making your throat dry up and chest constrict.

It’s suffocating, to say the least, and while it certainly weighs your chest down and numbs your mind like it so often does when it comes to rifling through these shared memories of Minho, you’re vividly aware of the said man gripping his steering wheel a little too hard. Perhaps the opportunity of doing you a favour had clouded his judgement of exactly how nervous it made him to be around you too long.

The ride is uncharacteristically silent; you grip on to the folder now in your arms like a shield in front of your chest, there to protect you from whatever it was lurking in the silence to pounce at you at any given chance and Minho bit his lips till he could taste a faint metallic tang on his tongue, swallowing the saltiness of a confrontation he was always cautious of but never knew when to expect.

And if you spend the entire day surfing through the countless websites offering advice on how to be entirely over an ex, no one had to be any wiser of it.

eight.

It’s seven days to Valentine's day, which means seven days of absolute misery for Minho and when Minho is miserable, he coops himself up in the dance studio.

As the days go by, he’s feeling less and less convinced of himself, and he fears his resolve will ultimately be reduced to a wisp of smoke in thin air, dissolving into nothingness.

For starters, he’s finding it difficult to believe that of all the goddamned people on this planet, he’s waiting to confess to you on valentine’s day, a day he had always felt bitter about to some extent. But then he falls into this vicious cycle of losing his mind over the fact that he’s going to confess to you in the first place, eventually finding himself zoning out of his daily activities as he has another mental breakdown over how exactly he was supposed to do that. How does one confess after all?

He assumes it might have been easier had you both not have already broken up and you didn't hate him – here Felix strongly interjects, stating that you, in fact, didn’t hate him, but who was to know – and how silly this all was, but he loved you.

And as he slowly let this piece of information settle, it only stirred up a gust of agitated feelings like dust in a sunny patch. He noticed how his chest squeezed at your sight, like it was trying to force it all out of his ribs, how the slightest discrepancy between his fair judgement and his elevated heart rate were always inclining towards the latter.

There is not a single seed of doubt as to what he feels about you or for you, but somewhere sitting calmly in the pile of emotions he had collected over the months, was a misplaced sense of overwhelming agitation he couldn’t help but creep up like a parasite. Leaving you boxes of chocolates on your desk and ordering you coffee felt like an immature and childish redemptive gesture, which was only reduced to a cowering dog in front of a beast when that parasite wiggled around, reaching out with its arms to move and expand.

But he missed you and he kept telling himself that. 

Neither of you had ever tread into that territory however, the one where words were exchanged with a meaningful implication, it was just there. A sense of belongingness and happiness when he was with you, but also the chain of guilt and confusion weighing him down till he could no longer take it and burst out.

The fight was huge, the confrontation had been a source of getting all the heaviness on his chest to slowly be lifted, till he realised that there are some things which are only clear when you say them out loud and even though sometimes they are better left unsaid, the hurting only lasts so long before relief settles in.

Minho thinks, had he not said anything back then, none of this would have been so messed up. If he had just kept quiet and slowly immersed himself in this new feeling, or better still talked it out without such blunt implications, time would have helped him; but then he would also have been partially lying to himself and to you.

There wasn’t another person, heck he didn’t even fall out of endearment, it just took him some time to come to the conclusion that his feelings had been there all along but when he opened his mouth, all he had implied was that he had not been in love with you, in fact, this might have all been a ruse in the first place – it was understandable that you believed he had no feelings for you in the first place.

A load of miscommunication and the insinuation of his words had hurt him, but probably not more than it affected you. You had put a whole year into this relationship, given it your all, liked him even before you started dating, all to be left high and dry with a ‘I need some time’. He sounded like an asshole even to himself. 

He had put you on the front line of his own internal dilemma, used you as an excuse to come to terms with his feelings and taken you for granted. Put in a bit of fucking around and he would be no less than a fuckboy. In fact, he didn’t deem himself worthy of your attention nor respect anymore.

While his anxiety built up, it’s basis feeding off the numerous insecurities that drowned him in it’s waves, his detachment from you grew larger and larger like a seam slowly but surely tearing apart at the edges and when finally undone, the uncertainty of where you would be in the future, whether you would be together or not, whether what he was feeling and doing for you was enough or bordering on sufficient to keep this relationship afloat. The little seed of doubt and indecisiveness had already sprouted up and begun growing like a parasite and while he never entirely got rid of it, it was starting to stir again in the pits of his stomach now.

He was now set out to face the remains of his destruction, rebuilding what he had hammered down and wrecked.

“Hyung,” a voice calls out, making him look up from the ground where he sat panting after the exertion of his dancing and thoughts.

“What are you still doing here? We’ve got class in a few…” Felix makes his way over to the sweaty boy, handing him a towel from the bench and passing one of the plastic bottles always in stock for the students, uncapping the lid to ensure the elder drank it.

“Do you think I should stop?”

“Stop what?” The confusion in Felix’s voice was clear at the abruptness of the question.

A heavy sigh fell off Minho’s lips, eyes staring blankly ahead at the mirror where he gazed at himself tiredly.

“Trying to make things right, I mean. I feel like I keep messing up… I did last time, when I thought that I was doing the right thing but it ended up being, probably the worst decision I’ve made, and talking out didn’t help. I’m not sure it’ll help this time either.”

The defeated slump of Minho’s shoulders is accentuated by the light from the half open windows, the afternoon sunlight sliding down the curve of his back and falling in a pool around him like a beacon of light, jeering at his pathetic state. His miserable foreboding was not allowing him to break out of his little cocoon of insecurities and the ultimate fear of losing you and the universe seemed to be playing its part in dramatising it with its elements.

Minho is unsure of his own actions at this point, his intentions in a muled pool of whether he was trying to reduce his guilt and doing this for his own sake or whether he wanted this for more than selfish reasons.

“Do you love them hyung?”

The question is like a sharp arrow shooting past his face, the wind whittling and ruffling his hair like a shot of breath; it almost leaves Minho breathless but alleviated from the dull slump he was in.

Felix looked on expectantly, but Minho was at a loss for words, staring back back at him with eyes that seemed hopeful of an answer from the inquirer himself. It’s like waiting patiently for someone to answer their own question if you stay silent long enough, and Minho wouldn’t mind favouring an answer that was spoon fed to him in tiny little bite sized chunks, easy to digest but what was even more convenient was that he wouldn’t have to do anything himself except chew and swallow.

He only wished that it were that easy, except of course it wasn’t and no one could feed him an answer to that. He hated Felix, for asking him something so intimate and for the further turmoil it caused him but more so because he had asked him something that deep within he knew the answer to, but as it had been the root of all causes he had stirred up, he was afraid to voice out loud, and he knew that ultimately he would have to confront that thought.

“You know what I think hyung?” Felix maintains his level tone, choosing his words carefully but never pausing in his thoughts, quite obviously unsurprised at the lack of an answer, “I think you know what you are doing and what you should be doing and also the answer to my question. You’re just too afraid to face your feelings and you think letting the guilt eat you up would make (y/n) feel better; that it would make you feel better even if just marginally. What you don’t realise is how much this is hurting you both, to see each other moping around and so upset at the other’s state.”

Minho is surprised at the words coming out of the younger’s mouth, his unexpected third person perspective a source he had not expected he would have an insight to, but all the same finding it hard to believe that you would have any mutual feeling about the same.

“I think,” Felix pauses, regarding the ground and the patches of sunlight on it with great interest, “it's time you stopped hiding behind your excuses and talked to them.”

Felix leaves after his final words, oddly feeling like he had done something monumental, leaving a befuddled Minho sitting on the floor.

There was the subtle churning in his stomach again, like he had just been told to suck up his fear of heights and jump, except this time he was almost entirely certain he wouldn’t mind the drop.

nine.

Hyunjin and Jisung were being disgusting, but they looked cute all cuddled up on your couch with their eyes barely open, scrolling through the numerous confessions you had received in the span of three more days.

You hide a smile when Jisung nuzzles his head in Hyunjin’s chest, the latter whining at having to change his position, pulling the shorter boy closer so now they were practically lying on top of each other.

“This was a bad idea,” Hyunjin says, sighing as he carefully places the laptop on your coffee table, kicking his feet out and quite literally straddling Jisung in his arms. Jisung seemed to be too tired to protest or splutter nervously at the open show of affection, readily giving in to this soft moment, yet not meeting your eyes because he could feel your teasing smile all the way across the couch.

“I don’t know why we didn’t put a limit to this, it’s like all I’ve been doing is reading confessions and they all look the same! Why didn’t you stop me (y/n)?!”

“Hey, I thought this was your idea!” you retort, chucking a cushion at him that elicits a groan from the boy, “besides, you can’t deny people’s confessions, it’s not like they’re for you.”

Hyunjin looks up when you snicker at him, “Was that a challenge? You think I haven’t had people confess to me this year?”

“Have you?” Jisung’s attention is momentarily piqued; you manage to pass the chortle you couldn’t suppress as a cough.

Hyunjin manages to soothe the boy back on his chest, patting his hair and shushing him to rest his eyes after all the squinting at the bright screens. You could almost see the hearts oozing out of his eyes as he stared at the boy on his chest now softly snoring. 

“You guys are gross by the way, all this pining is making my head hurt,” you state out, expecting Hyunjin to deny your accusation but it doesn’t come.

“I’m planning on confessing,” he simply says, his voice low and eyes droopy, fingers carding through Jisung’s hair who now looked like even a fire alarm couldn’t wake him up from his slumber.

Momentarily forgetting about your own statement, you sit up straight so suddenly, it almost makes you crick your neck, “Wait, what?”

How could Hyunjin be so calm about this all? No less, it looked like it wasn’t such a big deal to him, like he was simply validating what you said. It just felt like the most right thing to be done, as if all the clues and hints had been there all along.

“Don’t act so surprised, I’m not entirely oblivious you know? I’ve liked him for a while now, I thought you all knew?” He turns to you expectantly, but you can only gape at him in surprise.

“I mean, yeah but! What the actual fuck?!”

“Really impressed with your immaculate vocabulary, so precise, I love it~”

“Shut up, you know what I mean!”

“Actually I don’t, this was long due.”

“Wow,”

“Again with the impeccable stock of words~”

“Stop teasing me,” you whine, unable to contain the smile that was bursting out, genuinely happy for him. Your restrained squealing is what finally makes Hyunjin flush, hiding his face with one hand but his lips mirroring your smile.

“How do you plan on doing it? You’re gonna be pretty busy at the photography booth,” you questioned, abandoning your work and grabbing a cushion in your lap, leaning into conversation indulgently; you needed the break anyway.

Hyunjin doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze flickering between the laptop and the sleeping boy.

“No way…” the sudden implication of the entire thing hits you and you’re almost on the verge of yelling out loud, but stop yourself just in time, “did you do this entire confession thing so you could confess?!”

“No…”

“Bullshit, you sly bitch!”

“Hush, you’re gonna wake him up!”

“Aha, so you do admit it!”

“I said nothing,” Hyunjin is stubborn, but you can tell from the way his cheeks turn a dusty shade of pink and he squirms in his place, his resolve only barely being held by a thread had it not been for the Jisung who was still sound asleep, unaware of everything that was happening.

“That’s abusing your authority,” you tease, crossing your arms over your chest, but you were honestly dying to hold this as leverage over him.

“Is not! It was a legit suggestion and the planning committee all had a say in this matter!”

“Yeah, the planning committee that you head, therefore making you the final decision maker and of course you play it to your favour!”

Hyunjin groans, his will to fight you over this subdued when Jisung stirs in his sleep and he holds a breath in fear of having been heard but nope, the boy just mumbles something in his sleep and goes back to snoring.

“Hyunjin, you’re simping, stop looking at him with so much love,” you gag, your only aim in your life seemingly becoming an unstoppable drive to tease the living daylights out of your friend.

“What about you, I heard you’ve got yourself an admirer,” Hyunjin quickly defends his stance.

“Don’t change the subject, you can’t fight this.”

“What about Minho, does he know?”

Although Seungmin has been dubbed as the one who’s brutally confrontational. You think Hyunjin has an equal hold of that title in your group with his unwittingly innocent setups that make you fall in your own traps and the stupid victorious glint in his eyes after succeeding in doing so.

“Rude, you don’t have to rub my failed love life in my face, loverboy,” you pout, trying to hide the sudden pain that had spiked in your chest at the mention of the name that had recently been making turns in your head. The very image of the unexpected domesticity of Minho in the kitchen baking had strung your heart with a sharp twang of longingness.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Hyunjin sighs, repositioning himself on your couch as you’re the one left squirming in your seat now.

You know what Hyunjin means, but you would rather not talk about it. In fact, you definitely didn’t want to talk about anytime soon, when all you’ve been doing for the past few days is reading endless confessions and sappy love stories and imagining what it would have been like to be on the receiving end of one of these letters. You’ve tried, on many occasions, to discern the writing patterns and trying to figure out whether one of these could have been sent in by Minho, but of course that’s silly and he would never do something like that but you hope – you so desperately hope for something.

Hyunjin sees the look of turmoil plastered all over your face, your sad eyes and downturned lips.

“(y/n), can you say that you’re entirely over him?”

The words are quiet, but a dissonance in the near silence of the room that is broken by soft snores. You don’t trust yourself to look him in the eye and lie, because you find that you can’t tell him the truth either. The lie you’ve been feeding yourself for months now is like a fraying rope of twines coming undone the more you tug at it; Hyunjin had so easily managed to break your lie open with a few words, you wonder whether he was right after all; whether your heart had been into building this lie and keeping it intact after all.

Because it's hard to pretend not to notice Minho looking out for you and it’s much harder to ignore the burn in your chest when he smiles even though you’re mean to him. It’s kept you awake for nights, months after everything was over – months after you should have been over it all, to have forgotten and forgiven and moved on without ever looking back – but you always find yourself thinking about him; always looking back and finding his face in the crowd without searching for it, finding his little smile and tucking it carefully in a corner of your heart.

And when you’re alone, without his constant assuring presence, you lie to yourself and convince yourself that the stolen smile tickling that corner of your heart was never meant for you to keep in the first place. You lie a little more when you tell yourself that you don't care anymore.

Hyunjin is so skillfully there to bring your lies to the forefront just like how he was there to accompany you in your ice cream marathon, with a bag full of snacks and two whole boxes of tissue with a sufficient supply of some old and sappy rom-coms when you had first cried your heart out after the breakup. When you had bawled about not being good enough to be loved, but most utterly, entirely broken about it all being a lie.

So he knows what it is you’ve been feeling this entire time, maybe not calling you out on it, but definitely there to remind you that there were still so many chances of putting this right, because believe it or not, even your lies have been lying to you.

ten.

Three days to Valentine’s and you felt like the universe was playing it’s most cruel game with you, but it was also making sure that you were still in the game, no matter how weak willed or how close to the edge of giving up you were.

Keeping up with your part time job and the planning for the big valentine’s day celebration, which you had inevitably been more than engaged in given the need for extra hand, had you sitting beside Minho now, shoulders touching and peering at the poster design Hyunjin had changed his mind about in the last minute.

In fact, Hyunjin had changed his mind about a lot of things, which included making a new banner for the Sweet Treats and therefore having to come up with a new ensign for the posters, because he wanted it to complement each other. It was either you stuck having to cut out large hearts out of glittery foam for the new banner – which you had already been given word weeks ago you wouldn’t be required to, but when have men ever kept their word? – or it was brainstorming over the poster design.

And that’s how you found yourself sitting in the very corner of the computer lab, squeezed in between the wall and Minho, the only seat you had managed to grab because all the other computers were taken, working in a forced mental quietude with the rhythmic drone of the students in the background.

The obligatory drumming of your thoughts came as a result from half an hour ago, when Minho had been forced to scoot over to your side by a group of unruly seniors who were having a loud discussion about topics your brain could not comprehend. But that was okay, because it was nothing compared to the fact that Hyunjin had absolutely forgotten to mention the ‘someone’ who was going to help you out was Minho. But even that was fine,  because quite frankly, your mind is too buzzed to process anything, let alone supply valuable help to the boy beside you, who was actually doing the work, while you sat there, hyperventilating about your shoulders touching.

You’ve not been in such close proximity with Minho in a while, and while it never made you nervous in a bad way when you were in a relationship, now it made your stomach flutter and take flight whenever he leaned in close to mutter something about the shade of burgundy and his breath fanned across your ear.

You feel a shiver run down your spine when he leaned forward again, this time squinting at the text before leaning back again with a frown on his face. You pressed your lips in a smile – typical Lee Minho at work; he would stare at the same thing for hours on end till he could figure out what made it look even marginally better than the original format. It was a small habit that had always been there that you hadn’t even noticed you had taken note of in the first place, only realising that it was one of the things you had always liked about him, without even realising it.

Minho had had this way of easing himself into your life, seeping his habits and lifestyle into yours so subtly and gradually, that you had never quite gotten over the shock of not waking up to it any longer. It was like a part of you had been wiped off entirely, a hand pulled out of a glove in the freezing cold. It never sat right with you and you never got used to it.

Minho steals a glance at you, finding you staring straight ahead with the look you had when you were lost in your thoughts. He’s unsure if it’s because you don’t find his incessant stubbornness to get the perfect shade of red correct or you just weren’t feeling well. Well, you did look tired, he knows you stayed up all night sorting out the anonymous confession box thing he had briefly heard about from Hyunjin, and he knew you had a shift later in the evening at the convenience store. Maybe he should just tell you to leave? But that would make it seem like he could do the entire work all by himself and didn’t value your opinions but that wasn’t the case; if anything he wanted to be able to ask you to rest your head on his shoulder and get some shut eye but! He couldn’t do that either! Curse his fate!

“Hey,” your voice breaks his agitation, “wanna go get some coffee?”

For a moment you think you’ve stunned Minho into temporary speech loss but then you replay the past five seconds in you remind and realise that you’ve just asked Minho for coffee, which you were starting to hope he would decline and you could just leave awkwardly after that–

“Sure, let’s go.”

Minho is past the stage of caring, all he knows is that you offered to get coffee with him first and he was in no position to turn you down.

Normally, a coffee run would excite you but today the five minute walk to the cafe you frequent is no less than a nervous stride of awkwardness. Your heels ache with all the pressure you put out in walking, you change the way you breath at least nine times, every time closer to a skittish cliff in the fear of being too loud. You’re really worried about breathing too loudly; now you’ve seen it all.

Minho is no better. His stupid hands keep bumping into yours and the occasional cyclist makes him scoot closer to you but he’s too timid to walk behind you or in front of you. God, what happened to when he could pull you along in a good humoured headlock and berate you for your fifth cup of the caffeinated drink in an hour; he knows it’s not your first cup of the day, he can smell it on you. And he hates it so much, the mere thought of feeling the taste on his lips when he would kiss you, now he’s really resorting to inhaling the coffee scent so familiar to you.

His hand itches to pull you back and away from this stupid walk and away from it all where you could both start over again, but he’s quick to extinguish that thought; overindulging in sweet fantasies only made him long for you more.

He lets out a breath of relief he hadn’t realised he was holding when the cafe comes into view and you both enter.

“Oh hi, it’s you. Do you want the blueberry muffins today–”

Minho’s frantic gesturing cuts the barista off, their eyes widening when they see you come up, apparently digging around your bag for your wallet and they shut up immediately. You don’t seem to have heard the near slip up though, too invested in shovelling through your bag.

Without thinking, Minho’s hand reaches up to yours, your head snapping up at him and the frown on your brows slipping away into a surprised look.

“Just order, I’ll pay.”

“You don’t have to, I just need to find my–”

“Please?” The gentle squeeze on your wrist and the soft eyes appealing to you makes it difficult to turn him down. You reluctantly agree, placing your orders and waiting to have them to go since neither of you wanted to spend too much time inside the cafe that was already adorned in red streamers, the yearly specials menu of drinks and pastries making you grimace at the chessiness with which the names had been chosen. Jesus, you’d be embarrassed to even read those out.

Minho doesn’t know how to start a conversation with you anymore, his fingers drumming nervously on the counter until your drinks are out and it was killing him to stand a few feet apart from you when all around he could see couples practically sitting on each other’s laps.

You’re both glad when you’re able to leave, Minho paying and turning a brilliant shade of red when the barista hands you a blueberry muffin wrapped in plastic with a bow on top of it, citing it to be ‘on the house’ and winking at you. He’s so busy pretending not to have anything to do with this little coincidence that he doesn’t notice you speaking. When your words register though, he wishes he hadn't heard you in the first place.

“So uhh,” you start off hesitantly, taking a small sip of your drink as Minho does the same, “I’ve got some of your stuff back in my apartment, you should come by and…take them back. Sometime, when you’re free…”

It physically pains you to speak those words out, your throat constricting and this time you make sure you’re not even trying to gauge Minho’s reaction. Had you actually looked his way, you would have noticed his clenched jaws and the flash of hurt in his eyes that he doesn’t try to mask.

“That’s what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“What?”

“The coffee, you just wanted to– you know what, never mind. I’ll drop by tomorrow to get my stuff.”

Though you had expected a reaction akin to this, the sudden coldness in his voice and his stony eyes made your heart drop. You felt guilty about bringing this up and maybe you could have tried a gentler approach, but all the same, you couldn’t put this off any longer either.

Without another word, Minho stalks off with the bitter taste of his drink infusing in his tongue like a harsh slap of reality, leaving you staring at his back forlornly as it grew smaller with every step he took.

eleven.

You opened the door in a loose sweater, the sleeves engulfing your hands in sweater paws and the resolve with which Minho had purposefully rang your doorbell with, was already starting to slip away.

Minho finds it near impossible to step inside your small apartment, knowing the walls around him would bring back too many memories he had tried hard to suppress all night the day before, screaming into his pillow in frustration when they had inadvertently bobbed back up like a cork in water, stubbornly reminding him of why he had to be here in the first place.

The first thing he notices on entering is the cardboard box on the coffee table; things only get harder from there.

He’s unsure of what to do with his hands, his head feels too big for his neck and he’s constantly tumbling down an endless spiral of emotions the longer he stares at the empty spaces in your house that once used to be filled up with his trinkets. The feeling refuses to subside when he rummages through the box, picking out articles that punch him square in the chest.

“I thought you liked this hoodie,” he picks up blue coloured fabric, careful not to crease the fold.

You shrugged in response, you only liked it because it smelt like his scent.

As he keeps going through everything inside the box, he’s visibly upset at how you haven’t spared even the smallest of things; his half empty bottle of citrus bodywash, an empty diary from last year he had bought for himself out of impulse, his favourite fountain pen that had rolled under the drawer and he had never bothered to retrieve, until he stumbles upon the small velvet box he couldn’t forget even if he wanted to.

“I got this for your birthday,” his voice rose unexpectedly on opening it and finding the silver chain intactly placed inside, obviously trying hard not to lose his mind and snap at you for the wrong reasons, but how could you return this?

“Yeah well, you also told me that you loved me right after, so it kind of lost all its meaning.” the defensive tone was not intentional, but it was exactly what it was supposed to be – a front up against Minho’s own offence.

“What must I do to make you believe that it was real?”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” you were ready to walk away the moment he brought up the topic, leaving him to sort things out but a tug on your wrist, harsher than intended, makes you stop in your tracks.

“I want to talk about this,” Minho is comparatively calmer now, but his eyes are livid and not at you but himself. Yet, a part of him, though wary of the sense of deja vu he was having standing here in a similar predicament as when you had broken up, can’t seem to understand you at all. He acknowledges your anger and resentment, doesn’t try to question the way you avoid him at all costs but for the life of him, absolutely can’t understand why you wouldn’t talk.

“You never gave me a chance to explain anything (y/n), you just assumed the worst and refused to believe me even after I tried so hard to explain – to show you that I love you, yet it’s like you’ve built up this huge wall that you refuse to let down and for what? What are you so afraid of, is it confrontation? What is it? Tell me, because I sure as hell don’t understand why we can’t just talk about this?!”

“Oh so it’s my fault now?! This is how you truly feel, don’t you? All those stupid boxes of chocolates and paying for my coffee and those stupid fucking blueberry muffins – I don’t even like blueberry muffins, I only ate them because you liked them! – all that was just so you could feel better about yourself, wasn’t it? And now I’ve hurt your ego by returning what’s yours, so it’s my fault!”

Your voices were slowly rising with every syllable, the anger in your eyes directed at each other in furious glares and the confrontation that never truly happened finally tumbling out in more hurtful words.

“You knew about that?” Minho breathes out shortly, the grip of his fingers around your wrist loosening when your eyes tear up.

“Not until yesterday I didn’t, but you had your fun right? Bet you enjoyed every second of it,” you hate yourself for tearing up so easily, for letting his words affect you so much that it made you shrivel up and cower in fear of more. There was something about his anger that hurt you even more than before.

The venom in your voice was amiss, the way it tumbled out wrapped in hurt and vulnerability and yet again, Minho is reminded of exactly how much he had messed up, all over again.

“I didn’t do it so I could gloat at you or have fun,” he breathes out, rubbing his face tiredly, “I’m so sick of not being able to talk to you or hold you or even–” 

His words are cut short, trapped at the back of his throat and he swallows them down forcefully, heaving his chest in exertion and blinking his eyes rapidly. 

“I love you, I really do (y/n), believe me please.”

What are you even supposed to say? The same man had told you, six months into your relationship, that he had in fact not been sure of his feelings for you, immediately nullifying any meaning behind the three syllables he had so often muttered in your ears or against your lips, and now here he was saying the same thing. How were you expected to not not let this affect you?

“Stop it, I don’t believe you anymore.”

“Give me a chance,” the sniffle breaks you, ripping your insides and swallowing you in a pit of your own pity. You won’t look at him, you won’t listen to him.

Lee Minho does not love you. He will never love, and you must convince yourself of that, no matter how much your heart faltered at the decision.

“No.”

Minho nods his head at the floor, slowly putting everything inside the box again and when the final article is put away, he stands up awkwardly with it in his hands, desperately trying to search for a single ounce of hesitance in your eyes, but you refuse to look up.

“Are you sure about this?”

No, you’re not sure what you’re sure of anymore. But this feels wrong; so, so wrong and yet this guarantees you a safeguard to your feelings, a way to ensure that you don't wear your heart on your sleeve.

“Yes.”

“Okay…okay.”

The door closes behind Minho, the silence in your house echoing against the walls and you’re left standing alone again. Outside your door, Minho stands motionless, slowly letting the parasite squirming in his stomach to reach out for his heart and squeeze it till he could no longer breathe.

twelve.

If love was in the air was a literal concept, this would be it.

The halls were bursting with over buzzed students trying out the various booths that had been put up. It had taken your and Jisung’s combined efforts and reassurances to convince Hyunjin to get a breather and man his own photography booth that he had abandoned in a panicked frenzy of ensuring all the others were running smoothly, leaving poor Jisung to fend off by himself.

The halls were entirely decked with pink and red streamers with posters pointing towards various booths put up along with balloons. The quadrant was set up with kiosks and food stalls, lovely flower arrangements lining up the perimeter, and glitter! There was so much glitter everywhere, most of the planning committee that had been directly involved in dealing with it still had specks of it in their hair, and though they gave Hyunjin the stank eye once in a while, anybody could tell they were proud of their hard work and happy about it too. Hyunjin had really gone all out, you doubted he had spared a single penny of their budget from going into this.

As for you, you were mostly in the announcement room helping with the setup and ensuring all the PA systems were connected to the hallways and running. It temporarily helped in taking your mind off things because boy was your mind buzzing with countless thoughts.

It had been only two days – two days since you turned down Minho, two days since you stopped receiving handmade chocolates and pre-ordered coffee, two days of classes without Minho, two days of nervously holding your breath in every class you shared with him for him to turn up, only to find out that the boy had seemingly disappeared the face of the earth.

Two days of Minho not being anywhere near you and you felt like you had committed the greatest crime in the universe.

Trying to talk to Felix had been futile; he had been in and out of classes in a fretful scurry, mumbling about the humongous amount of baking that had to be done for the D-day and all he could supply you with was a non-committal excuse about being busy.

In short, you hadn’t seen nor heard nor heard of Minho in the past forty eight hours, and now you were worried. Funny how the tables had turned, but oh well, irony doesn’t leave anyone unattended.

So far you had managed to pass off the gurgling pit of of anxiety reflected on your face as nerves about talking into the PA; Hyunjin had been to caught up in his worries and accepted the explanation, but it was a hard pass against Felix who you were currently standing across the booth from, trying to divert his attention with compliments about his cookies.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he deadpans, your eyes blinking at him innocently as you chew on the delicacy. You had about half an hour to report to the broadcasting room, so you were whiling away your time trying to pry whatever information you could about Minho from his roommate, stealthily disguising it under a veil of compliments. It wasn’t working.

“I know something happened between you, you don’t have to pretend (y/n),” he rolls his eyes before turning to a customer with a smile and attending to them. The duality, you do not deserve such slander. But you do decide to drop with the pretence.

“I just want to know if he’s fine, okay? I think I…I was too harsh.”

This was true, but also very embarrassing to admit. It was like one of those moments in life where you say or do something and the immediate train of regret hits you with full force, derailing you from your own resolution and dumping your limp body in a sea of embarrassment and strong desire to turn back time.

Having second thoughts was sadly a part of this whole ordeal, the deal sealed off with a nice pinch of passionate frustration and a confused temperament. Yet, you do not find yourself willing to stand up to the challenge of facing and amending the distress you were left reeling with.

There was a lot you had to admit, the heaviness of your pent up feelings weighing you down but you didn’t know how to say it out loud.

“Listen,” Felix’s attention is on you again, but not for long as more people approach him, “I don’t know what’s going on between you guys, but even a five year old can tell that there’s definitely something between you guys. Now I know I’ve never been in a relationship and definitely have no concept of timely damage control, but if you want to make things right, do it now. I don’t want to graduate from this hellhole watching two of my friends become strangers. It doesn’t matter if you don’t get back together, but you can’t let yourselves be ripped apart like this, okay?”

“I know you both love each other,” his words spread like a warm fire through you, “but you’re both idiots who won’t admit it.” Wrong, Minho did admit it, you were just too scared to let him have a part of your heart again after the first time. This was on you, and it was starting to feel scary to bear such a burden.

“And if you tell me that a month from now, you can walk past each other in the hall as if nothing had happened like there was no history between you two, I might believe you. But if you tell me that you didn’t regret doing this in the future, I will laugh in your face, because damn you would have to be convincing to lie like that.”

Stunned, you can only nod at him meekly, gulping down the bitter taste at the back of your throat at the mention of becoming estranged with someone you loved so dearly. 

“Don’t do this…this wallowing in self pity and pretending to be okay when you both know it’s far from that, just go talk to each other.”

Felix finishes with a pat on your shoulder and a gentle squeeze before leaving you to walk away with heavy steps and a strong desire to dash to the nearest washroom to force those tears back.

You realise that the first step had been to confess the very fact – Minho was someone you loved. The thought of graduating and leaving this place without him by your side was daunting. He had been half of the reasons this place had been bearable. Beyond the four walls with a projector overhead, and a professor droning about something you were too distracted to register, he had always been there to pass notes to you with silly doodles or sent you cat memes to while the time or scratched out wobbly stars in the corner of your notebooks. The little things that you had stored as memories were resurfacing and the heavy realisation of your endearing affection for them was settling in.

Everything suddenly felt overwhelming; your thoughts were tangled in a numb mess making your head throb with a dull thud. The beautiful decorations around you were a blur of red, the loud buzzing of excited people, a drone in your ears.

Love was in the air, but you were out of breath, suffocating as the voices inside your head drowned you out from the world.

thirteen.

You and Seungmin had done about a fifty confessions in three hours, all with a periodic music break where Changbin and Chan would take over, belting out beats and occasionally promoting their band. You were sure Hyunjin wouldn't mind, especially not when it was 3racha in question; the entire campus was in love with the trio.

Hyunjin had burst into the room during one such song break, cheeks flushed and eyes twinkling – literally twinkling in happiness – and spluttered out in an excited mess about how he had seen at least a dozen people ask each other out after the confessions were read out.

“Only a dozen? We’ve read about fifty of these…” Seungmin said monotonously, but Hyunjin was seemingly unfettered with the less than enthusiastic reaction.

“I’ve seen a dozen, but who knows how many more are out there? Cheer up Seungmin, I’ll get you a coffee – in fact, I’ll get you all a snack, my treat for working so hard!”

Well, someone was definitely in a good mood, and neither of you were going to turn down the offer of free food and drinks. Besides, you did kind of deserve it after all.

Aside from one bathroom break, you had stayed inside the broadcasting room for most part of the day, volunteering to stay back when the crew wanted to go out and enjoy for a while. Oh and, you had also messaged Felix every half an hour, inquiring whether Minho had come to the fest and every time he had responded with a variation of ‘not yet’ and ‘I haven’t seen him yet’. There might have been a reason you were trying not to leave this room yet.

The rational part of you agreed that calling the man in question would yield better results, but the emotional part of you decided against it if you didn’t want to freeze up at the sound of his voice and burst into tears in the middle of a sappy confession.

Speaking of confessions, it was your turn for another one and it seemed awfully familiar the moment you read out the name. Seungmin gestures at you just as Chan drowns out the last notes of the current song playing and signals for you to start.

“That was ‘On Track’, produced by none other than our favourite trio, 3racha! And now it’s time for another lovely confession! This one’s from loverboy20,” you smile, knowing only too well who this was, slightly excited at how this was going to turn out since you don’t remember reading this before, “to the guy who’s been on his mind since freshman year.”

“Hi, it’s loverboy20 here and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do this but heck, if I don’t do this now, I’ll never get down to it and then I’m going to regret my entire life about not asking out the cute guy I’ve had a crush on for ages and…I’m rambling now.

I would go back and type this out all over again, but you need to know exactly how hard this is for me and I’ve already been staring at my screen for an hour, unsure of what to type because I have no idea what to say or how to go about this but forgive me, I hope you won’t hate me entirely once this is over.

I saw you first in the freshman orientation and thought you were kinda cute with your flannel shirt and beanie. You looked like the cool kid with your guitar, sitting in the row in front of me and putting in your headphones. I don’t think anyone noticed but me – they weren’t even connected to your phone. It was cute, you were I mean…you still are.

And then I met you in the talent show where we got paired up for the impromptu segment and we had this huge fight about rapping better and dancing better and…long story short, the crush I had on you was slowly starting to feel questionable. But! But then just as I was starting to get over it, you go ahead and do something stupidly cute like paying for my americano because I didn’t have money on me and saving me from embarrassing myself. I think we started hitting it off from there and then…well, it just happened. Like…I started falling for you more and then one day it was like getting hit by a train full of those feelings. I mean, you were right there in front of me in your flannel shirt again and I just suddenly felt like someone had knocked the wind out of me.

This is…oh my god, this is so embarrassing, I’m basically rambling about how you made me fall for you oh my god…anyway…it just felt right.

Being with you, spending even the passing moments between hectic classes just getting coffee or sailing up late to talk to you while you worked; it made me happy and I want to keep doing it. I like you, a lot. You make me so happy and I have to physically stop my heart from leaping out when you’re around and can you please not hold my hands without a warning, it makes me nervous…no actually, you can hold my hand if you want to. If you want to, if you don’t hate me already. I’m just shooting my shot, you probably don’t like me and I might never be able to face you again after this, but yeah…okay.

If you don’t already know, this is for you, Han Jisung. My confession probably sucked, I can’t write beautiful words like you do or belt out a song like you but I really, really like you. That’s that then. This is loverboy20, and if you plan on getting back to me, I’ll be working with you in the photography booth.”

Jesus fucking Christ, Hyunjin had really done it. Changbin had positively squealed after the confession, hitting Chan in the chest and pretending to cry; you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had actually cried. Seungmin had also been smiling, unable to stop the surprised chuckle when he heard Jisung’s name. Chan just looked like a proud dad sending his kids off to school for the first time.

Something about this spiel had broken you though.

It felt right…

That’s what Hyunjin said. It felt right when he was with Jisung and it made him happy. And knowing Jiusng’s side of the story, his mutual feelings for him which no doubt would be finally conveyed now, they had both ultimately worked it out through their differences and fallen for each other right?

The phrase bugged you. It stuck to you like leech, sucking on your mind incessantly until you realised what it was. But of course, that’s exactly how you always felt with Minho. It had felt so right, just like the night Hyunjin had first told you, like this was meant to be and the feeling is so oddly familiar, it drowns you in it’s simplicity like a warm hug comforting you after a gruesome fight of heart over mind and you realise that wearing your heart on your sleeves was worth it if it was Minho.

It was Minho all along; you would always go back to him because you know – and the enormity of the realisation settles in with a relief – that he’s loved you since the beginning. He  had taken time getting there, maybe he had never realised or indeed never had feelings for you romantically, but he had been there as your friend always. He was there with warm soup when you were sick, with his childish berating when you pulled one too many all-nighters, there with an umbrella when you were stuck without one on campus, there to kiss you goodnight after every date.

Minho waited till he was entirely sure of his feelings for you, because in the end he was afraid of hurting you. And even then he only spoke the truth; all he wanted was your trust and time. You trust his feelings, he’s never meant to harm you before nor now. You just forgot to trust the process and the time it took for him to get there and it ashames you now. 

You didn’t cry all those weeks after the breakup because you had found it hard to accept that he hadn’t loved you just as much as you did. You had cried because you knew he did, for he had trusted you enough to tell you that, but he hadn’t found it in himself to let you down in fear of losing you. And wasn’t that what both of you had been afraid of? Treading around each other like you were walking on a floor made of glass, the inevitable fear of stepping too hard and losing each other in the midst of the million shards you would tumble down with.

There was a way – a final chance – to put this right.

What you were about to do would probably haunt you for life if it all went wrong but you loved him. You love him. You know this.  And that’s where you’ll start – by accepting it. 

fourteen.

Minho can’t fathom why he’s here. He should be anywhere but here, feeling swaddled by all the couples and the cute couple games and the over-the-top decorations.

He hates it all and he hates your voice over the speaker right now, reading out Hyunjin’s confession. He was there in person to witness Hyunjin growing redder by the second and Jisung’s brain trying to process everything. Cute, disgustingly cute. That could have been you and him.

He spots Felix’s booth in the midst of all the chaos, the boy himself looking flushed as he was constantly on the run. Word had spread about his bake sale, and people had started flocking to his booth, leaving him hassled as he was a one man army. He didn’t notice Minho till he walked right up to the front and slipped inside his stall.

“Hyung, I’m so glad you’re here!”

“Hey Lix, you look busy,” Minho states, observing from behind as he collects cash and gives out wrapped cookies and brownies, thanking every customer with a bright smile. A few students may have simpered over his boyish charms, but Felix was too busy to notice, failing to notice their obvious flirting. Minho has to hide a laugh as they walk away disappointed with cookies in their hands.

When the crowd dwindles a little, Minho could make out Seungmin’s voice on the speakers now, no doubt swapping with you after five consecutive readings. He finally gets a chance to strike up a conversation with his roommate.

“Business looks prosperous,”

Felix smirks back at him, pocketing the cash he had received before saying, “Yeah, the crowd's pretty good. Some people even came back for seconds, they love this stuff!”

“Of course they do, you’re good at it,” Minho shrugs off-handedly, but Felix could sense the genuine praise underneath.

“Hey hyung, can you do me a favour? I’ve got two cartons of this stuff in my car in the parking lot, can you bring me one? Can’t really leave the booth empty.”

Minho didn’t mind helping out, he anyway didn’t have much to do around here and he had only come because Felix had pestered him to get out of the house and stop sulking all weekend. Granted, the first thing he had heard was your voice reading out a confession like it was your own, he hadn't turned around and sprinted right away like he had thought he would have.

Felix hands him his car keys and off he goes to the parking lot, where there’s a relatively smaller number of people. It takes him a while to search for the car, all the while walking further away from the building, seungmin’s voice a faint noise in the back, and finally finds the familiar blue one parked right in the back.

Carefully taking out one of the boxes, he marvels at its weight and can only assume it’s loaded to the brim. If any of this manages to get saved, Minho has a feeling he knows what the 3 AM snack for the entire next month is going to be. Sometimes, he marvels at the younger boy and the amount of baking he can get done in a matter of a few hours.

As he’s walking back, he registers your voice which was on again on the speakers, growing louder the minute he got closer to the building. He tries his best to ignore the knot in his stomach but stops when he hears your next words.

“The next confession is to an ex, from… anonymous.”

There’s a pause on your end, but Minho is starting to anticipate this one. The word ex resounds loudly inside his head, his chest constricting when he hears the way you say it. It was as if you were taking this to heart when it wasn’t even your confession.

“Hi…I hope you’ve been doing well, I kind of miss you…maybe more than just “kind of”...

I honestly can’t believe I’m doing this right now, it seems crazy; I feel crazy doing this, but honestly? Screw it, I don’t think I can lie to myself anymore. I know I was trying to save face and keep my distance but a part of me was desperately trying to protect my feelings and yours.

I don’t think you’re here right now, I hope you’re not. Or maybe you are, in which case, good. But not really. This is hard…I don’t have this written out and I can’t do this extempore, but you’re not here, so it’s okay. Are you here though? It doesn’t matter…”

Minho is completely frozen to his spot. He was hoping for too much, but even with your face hidden, he could hear the panic in your voice. Why were you panicked?

“I know I acted like an ass, I know I messed up too but I realised that I couldn’t force you to feel the same way as I did. Maybe you needed more time, and perhaps I should have been willing to give you more of that.

I know we made mistakes – both of us – and I’m scared that this might be the end of everything, but I thought about it for so long and I want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not being able to give you more time when you needed it, I should’ve never expected you to fall in love with me all at once; I forgot we all have different paces and different ways of loving.

You said you didn’t love me; maybe I’m being delusional and hopeful when I say this, but I think you did…love me. Maybe not all at once, but it was there – you were there – in bits and pieces; in the way you picked up blueberry muffins on Wednesdays because you knew I didn’t have time for breakfast, in the way you got annoyed at having to pick up coffee for me but you did it anyway, in the way you sat all night looking up my favourite shows so we could enjoy it together, in the way you added peas to my scrambled eggs because I liked it that way.

I noticed it all, but somehow I…I overlooked it. I took it for granted, getting mad at you because you didn’t or couldn’t say those three words back at me because all I wanted was for you to love me as much as I loved you…as much as I still love you. But you did,and you cared so much for me, and I failed to see it. And that makes me feel shitty, but I deserve it.

I want you to know that I still love you, I do. So stop giving me boxes of my favourite chocolates and paying for my coffee and let’s talk this out. I promise, I’ll listen better this time, and I’ll wait for as long as it takes for you to reach out. I promise I won’t rush you, and if you still never feel the same as I do, I promise I’ll not hold you accountable for it.

So Lee Minho, if you’re out there and listening to this…I miss you, so much. And I love you, and won’t ever stop loving you. But let’s talk this out, as adults, and whatever happens, I’ll accept it with grace. I owe you that, so, yeah…”

There’s a pause not many notice due to the chaos, but for those who were listening, they pick up on the abrupt music that starts playing. Minho is one of them, but he doesn’t register the slip up because he can’t, in all honesty, think of anything right now.

He was left reeling in his spot, unable to move his feet from where they were planted on the ground. Lee Minho, that was his name – you said his name. This was your confession. Fuck. 

It was hard to ignore the stare at your back and the bated breath with which everybody had been listening to your ramble, but it’s even harder to ignore the rapid beating of your chest, the only sound now drumming in your ears obnoxiously.

Before you know it, your feet are moving of their own accord. You’re pushing yourself up from the chair, ignoring the cramp that had settled after sitting for more than an hour in the same place and in a split second you’re out the door and running nowhere in particular. Nobody stops you, and even if they tried, they doubted they would be able to.

It almost looked like Felix had been expecting you. He definitely looked surprised when you panted to a stop in front of him, ignoring the weird stares you received, only two syllables coming out of your mouth, “Where’s Minho?”

“He’s in the parking lot.”

That’s it. That’s all you need before you’re running again, slithering through the crowd and wheezing when you finally reach the parking lot. He was here. Minho was here, in the parking lot, on campus and he probably heard your confession. He hates you now, he definitely hates you and the sudden realisation that he heard your confession almost makes you want to tear the world apart in embarrassment. But you couldn’t turn back now.

You were too far down this hole to climb back up any time soon and you were going to see the end of it.

fifteen.

When you had imagined this happening, you had been less daunted by the prospect. Additionally, you also had the safety of these thoughts being in your head and never in real life.

In short, you felt like shitting your pants.

Minho was not saying anything. In fact, after pulling you into one of the lecture halls inside the building the best he could with a heavy box of cookies he was least worried about for now, he hadn’t done much except quietly lean back on the desk, waiting for you to speak while you sat in front of him on one of the benches. This was nerve wracking, the unpredictability of the situation and the long foreboding silence that you had both been sitting in. you had both been riveted by a small patch of dust, swirling around in a small typhoon in a sunny corner of the room, watching the silent chaos quietly.

The room feels too big without the presence of students filling it, you���ve never noticed it before, with its large windows and the sun streaming in like golden ribbons, exactly how much silence it can hold within its four walls.

You’re the first to break the silence.

“About earlier, I don’t know why I did that. I thought you weren’t going to be there, I mean not that it’s bad you heard but–”

“Did you mean it?” Minho cuts you off, but he sounds wary, cautious of where he treads because the trepidation that comes along with a feeling of things coming to an end blankets the two of you heavily.

“Which part?” your voice is reduced to a whisper, your thoughts too loud and overpowering.

“All of it…do you love me?”

This was easier done on the speaker and spoken into a mic. Now you’re too aware of Minho’s gaze staring you down and the sound of his shifting feet on the ground; your head is held low where your own eyes fixate on the ground till you see the tip of his shoes come into view and the telltale presence of a person close to you.

“My inadequacy to love you was never your fault (y/n), I swear I have loved you for ages but I didn’t want to lose you with my incapability of being sufficient.” Minho had to bare his all for this, in a mutual attempt to right the wrong and speak the unspoken, even if it made him want to dig a hole and bury himself under for eternity.

“I know Minho, I know. I’m sorry for not being able to recognise that sooner.”

“But I want to be with you, and for that I was most certain I didn’t want to lie about anything.”

“So you said you never loved me?”

“I never meant that. You know I’m an idiot, you know I suck with words and I would rather you hated me for it than have to speak out my feelings. All of those cruel things I said, all that shouting, every waking moment I wish I could take it all back. But I’m such a fool for you (y/n), I hate what you do to me.”

“You were never insufficient, and you certainly weren’t in the wrong to tell me the truth. I was just too hurt and blinded by the people around me bent on making me believe that you didn’t love me enough…when you said it out loud, I lost it.”

“I should have never made you feel like you were any less loved than others.”

“It was never your fault, it was simply a question of time.”

“I’m such an idiot…”

It came without a preamble and so suddenly, it made you want to joke about it. Minho was anything but an idiot, only too aware of his feelings and deeply connected to them that he had felt guilty for lying about it to you.

“I know you’re an idiot Minho,” a light laughter leaves your lips, your chest gradually starting to feel lighter the more Minho talked, ignoring the fluttering in your heart.

“Is my misery funny to you?”

“No, but your blabbering is,”

“Don’t laugh, please. I feel like a fool and you’re the one who just poured their heart out in front of hundreds of people.”

“Yes, I suppose idiocy seeps into you when one’s around you for too long.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“So, is this it?”

“It is if you want it to be.”

“I just thought this would be a lot more serious. And you might cry, not that I want you to cry but I thought I would make you cry again…not that I wanted to.”

“We’ve both bared too much already Min,” Minho feels like the sun itself had bloomed inside him, the warmth of his name tumbling through your lips like sweetened honey spread through him like wildfire, “I wouldn’t have wanted this to go any other way.”

And it’s true. When you walked into this classroom, you were ready to accept whatever it was that was to befall without any complaints. Regrets, perhaps, but if your heart was to be broken when you left this room, you were prepared for it. It made this talk so much easier when it didn’t end up with a promise of tears.

You came here with an intent and it was to do your best so you didn’t lose someone you loved dearly, no matter the price.

A long silence ensues. You can hear the tunes of a soft song floating through the speakers outside, almost as if Chan had planned it for the right moment. 

Minho leans down and holds your face in his hands, closing the gap between you gently before kissing you. God, you had missed this. You had forgotten how gentle Minho could be when it came to you, how he kissed you softly but firmly, slowly prying your lips open till you were completely drowning in him.

Bringing your hands up, you gently pry yourself apart from him, feeling yourself melt when you notice the panic in his eyes. The parasite inside him starts wiggling again, had you not wanted this?

“It’s okay, I just want you to know that you don’t have to rush this. I’ll be here for you always, I promise.”

Minho feels the parasite inside him slowly withering with every word you speak and every soft stroke of your thumb across his cheek.

“I already know I love you.”

“So you won’t run away?”

“I promise I won’t. And I’ll make it up to you for eternity.”

“That’s cheesy,” your heart does miss a beat.

“I know. I’m going to regret this later.”

“Must be all the love in the air.”

“Must be…”

A cheesy verse about a boy serenading the love of his life breaks out in a tender melody, but you’re both kissing again, never rushing into the feeling of it, just quietly drowning in each other.

“You know, an eternity is a long time,” you say, breaking apart for air again and pressing one long kiss on his lips, “are you sure you’re up for it?”

“I don’t think it would be that bad.”

For the first time in months, Minho finally feels himself liberated from that tight knot in his chest and the parasite that once resided there, nowhere in sight. His insides glow warm under your touch and his overwired mind is finally calm and bereft of muddled thoughts.

The shadows shift and the dust in the corner of the room finally dies down, settling on the ground gently. 

The immense longing of your hearts finally reach out for each other, intertwining each other in a warm hug that comforts the turbulent melancholy within and the loneliness starts to fade away.

An eternity wouldn’t be that bad after all.

#stray kids imagines #lee know imagines #stray kids minho imagines #stray kids lee know imagines #lee minho imagines #stray kids angst #aks angst #stray kids x you #skz x you #lee know x you

[banghyunchanji]

Imagine your boyfriend Lee know hates it when you look at any boy but him including his own members

#kpop #kpop account #kpop gif #kpop idols #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids lee know #stray kids lee know imagines #stray kids lee know reactions #stray kids lee know scenarios #bang chan #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #felix lee #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #lee know imagines #lee know reactions #lee know scenarios

[starlostseungmin]

— friends, lmh.

pairing: minho x gn!reader genre: angst warnings: profanity, kissing, minho is a jerk, not proofread. word count: 1.1k notes: here's the lee know angst i promised. lol. it's from the poll, but anyway, i've got a short free time tonight so here it is! don't forget to comment and reblog! thank you lovely ♡

his back met the white wall painfully as you pushed him against it. a wince of pain from his mouth escalated quickly but he drew a smirk on his face. he never felt so sincere with you to begin with. if it weren’t for jisung telling you how minho has been doing shits behind your back, you’d be one gullible person with an innocent perspective. you know it is risky to have this kind of relationship with him, but you can’t blame yourself for falling in love. he gave signs of affection but they were all mixed signals. you shouldn’t act like this, being all hurt and crying until your mascara runs down your cheeks. what’s the point of crying over a player? 

“what the hell are we?” you asked, tears streaming down your face. 

minho just let out a soft chuckle, not giving a shit on what you were feeling that night. the question keeps repeating all the time, yet he couldn’t give you a decent answer. maybe he’s just playing with you after finding out you like him despite the rumors (which were proven true). a player who loves to leave broken pieces of fragile hearts. he is that jerk. all those feelings you have and the days being spent with you mean nothing to him. if he is this heartless, he shouldn’t have played the game in the first place. 

“fuck you!” your voice echoes through the quiet room of your apartment. his face was hard to read, and his eyes seemed to be sympatheticーnothing. 

maybe there were times that he used to hold you when you were crying and upset with him, a kiss would seal all the complaints and his touch would make your body burn, wanting for more. he did things that made you fall into his trap but never reassured you what kind of relationship you have. you could feel how you were treated like an object when he wakes up usually at 5 in the morning from your bed as you lie naked underneath the sheets. minho often stays with youーthe controversy of doing this without any label made you question your worth. 

maybe you were just blinded by love that you couldn’t see his flaws. maybe he is a skilled player that could make his victims swoon over him. shit blow things up and you couldn’t get up. you love him so much that you just want to be used and be gullible. but jisung’s nagging made you come through. you wanted to be more than just friends with benefits and yet minho wanted to remain the same. he doesn’t love you, none of those affections were real and even if you get mad at him, nothing will change anything. minho is still that jerk. 

“i thought we agreed that we’re just friends,” he said, sounding like a total asshole. of course, he knew, he always knew. 

“but i love you!” you cried. minho just stared back, confused as to why you were acting like this. everything means nothing. 

“well i don’t, y/n,” he said. “don’t be so dramatic about this,” the sound of your palm slapping his cheek was loud enough to leave him in shock. it was painful, but nothing compares to what you were feeling. minho stood there frozen for being caught off guard. “y/n,” 

your hands were shaking, eyes darted on him filled with pain as your tears never stopped streaming. maybe he might have a change of heart or develop some feelings for you, even for one bit. he saw you so bent out of shape. you admit that you are also at fault for letting down your guard when you totally agreed to be just friends with benefits and now you’re here.

“am i really nothing? those things we did were nothing?” you asked as your voice cracked and shaky. he never saw you being so hyped up before and now he’s sure that you really want to blow shit up. 

“you don’t really understand do you?” minho scoffed. “we’re just friends y/n, nothing is really up with usー” 

“tell me we weren’t just friends! this doesn’t make much sense to me minho!” you said. “fuck! ignore that friends-with-benefits bullshit, iー” you paused, running your hands on your face. “fuck, i can’t believe i fell for you. i’m getting some fresh air,” you said and were about to take the exit from your apartment when he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around as he pulled you closer to his bodyーa hand around your waist, and his hand wrapping your wrist lightly. he stared straight into your eyes, you were left dumbfounded when he looks at you with a serious look, an expression that is confusing and hard to read. “what the fuck are you doing? let me go you fucker!” you said, but he didn’t listen. 

“i didn’t know you would act up like this y/n,” he smiled as he turned you around, pushing you as your back hits the wall. jerk. you looked at him, unknown of your feelings yet your heart started to beat faster than usual. why is your heart so fragile when it comes to him anyway? he’s not even your boyfriend. “do you like me that much?” he smirked as you avoided his eye contact but his fingers grabbed your chin to face him again, cheeks started to flush yet your eyes filled with irritation. 

“you heartless jerk,” you retorted when his lips met yours. his hand fell on your name, pulling you closer for much access to your lips as he gives a desperate one. you tried to push him away but he would just keep on pulling you deeper. his kisses never fail to give you butterflies in your stomach but right now, you don’t know anymore. there were several attempts of pushing him away until he decided to let go. the kiss is not worth it anymore. you hate him as much as you hate yourself for getting caught in his trap. maybe it was time to put an end to things. minho never loved you. it was just a game where he would use you for his past time and pleasure. 

you left your apartment that night and minho stared at the door where you took the exit. maybe it was all wrong and he was desperate about you. but the fact that the damage has already been done, he wouldn’t be able to fix things now. the regret he felt, the sadness and heartbreakーmaybe minho felt something for you, even if just a smidge. but how would he be able to get you back when you cut it all off? a sigh escaped from your lips as you burned all the pictures you had with him, but then there’s minho who keeps on staring at your window from the street, wanting to change and make up. yet he knew it won’t be all easy. 

taglist : @wolfchanchan ,, @1-800-lixie ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @lix-ables ,, @zoe8stay ,, @gwynsapphire ,, @cherryhanji ,, @lixesque ,, @seungly ,, @sleepyleeji ,, @comet-falls ,, @kim-seung-mo ,, @ppiri-bahng ,, @myjisung ,, @snow-pegasus ,, @milkybonya ,, @l3visbby ,, @wilczachannn ,, @asters-abditory ,, @tangylemonade ,, @hwan-g ,, @awkwardnesshabitat ,, @chrispychans ,, @therealhyunjingf ,, @hyunverse ,, @starseungs ,, @skizzen ,, @lino-jagiyaa ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @rachabreathing ,, @svngiem

#lee know imagines #lee know angst #lee know scenarios #lee know au #lee know headcanons #lee know fluff #lee know reactions #lee know x reader #lee minho imagines #lee minho angst #lee minho scenarios #lee minho drabbles #lee minho blurbs #lee minho fanfic #lee know fanfic #stray kids lee know imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader #lee know #lee minho #minho imagines #minho angst #minho fluff #skz minho imagines #stray kids minho imagines #skz minho angst

[haechanhues]

chapter forty seven : chocolate bars 

warnings : none. though not to my knowledge - if anything it’s swearing. EDIT : there’s one swear word. one. 

word count : 1k 

‘So….what’s on your ‘let’s get back Y/N’ agenda today?’ Hyunjin drawled sarcastically, biting into the sandwich that Changbin has been staring at incessantly. 

‘Get back Y/N,’ Minho nodded, determined. 

‘Yeah but how?’’ Hyunjin asked, before looking at Changbin, ‘Oh sorry dude, I didn’t realise you started your diet today.’ 

‘I literally messaged you last night,’ Changbin complains, his fingers combing through his hair, ignoring the sad salad that sits in front of him, waiting to be eaten. 

‘Just-’ Minho blinks at your figure moving across the room from him, chatting mindlessly to Felix and hooking that strayaway hair from your face. His breath is caught and words forgotten. You’re here. 

Chan clicks his fingers in front of Minho’s face, grabbing his attention, ‘Wow…you're pathetically into her aren’t you?’ 

‘You can’t talk,’ Changbin snorts, ‘Yoon literally flicks her hair and you’re all over the kind of shampoo she uses, whether or not she really loves you anymore when she smells like that. She’s not a dog. Not to mention, I basically asked her out for you.’ 

‘You did not.’

‘Basically,’ Changbin rolls his eyes. 

But Minho is distracted. There’s pictures of you and him together in his head, laughing and smiling fondly at each other. Your secret shared memories and how much he loves to put a smile on your face, how much he loves spending time with you. How much he loves you and him together. 

How much he loves you. 

He knows what he has to do. What he needs to say. What he wants to say. 

So with that, he pushes away from the table and walks past your table, turning slightly to make sure he has your attention. He cocks his head towards the exit, pulling out the coin that rested in his pocket. You blink at him cautiously, excusing yourself from the table just as Jeongin and Seungmin sit down. They look at you offended and you giggle before excusing yourself anyway amidst their whining and complaints. His own friends watch him cautiously as you both exit the cafeteria, pulling into the hallway. 

Minho walks to the vending machine, sifting through the chocolate bars in front of him, pondering over which to get. He feels your presence next to him, and neither of you look at the other no matter how much you want to. 

‘Which one do you want?’ 

You hum, placing your fingers on the glass. His face contorts with slight disgust as he removes your hands from the glass, preventing you from leaving too much of a mark. You smirk knowingly to yourself. You’re surprised when he doesn’t make any effort to remove his hand from yours, instead, interlocking your fingers together. 

‘That one,’ You say, not letting your voice waver. 

Minho nods. You’re staring at him through the reflection, watching him bend down to retrieve the chocolates he’s just ordered. Admiring him? Zoned out? You’re not too sure. There’s something weird about him today. 

You rip open the plastic wrapper, digging right into the chocolatey goodness and you hum appreciatively, ‘Thanks.’ 

You grin at Minho, who has his chocolate hanging loosely in his hold, not making any move to open it. He’s looking at you with a weird look, familiar but not quite typical. 

It’s weird. 

This is weird. 

‘I love you,’ Minho pronounces, the taste of them unsure and bubbly on his tongue. 

You stare at him, your chocolate unmoving in your mouth as he watches you come into terms with the information. You shake your head and nod at the same time, like an idiot. But other than that? Frozen. 

‘Wai-’ 

‘Now that I think about it, I’ve loved you this whole time and have been saying it in my own kind of messed up way. And that’s not your way and I’m sorry. But…that doesn’t mean I haven’t been loving you in my way,’ He adds, rambling on when you don’t make any other movement apart from a wide gaping jaw. So wide it’s almost an entrance way. 

‘I guess ‘I miss you’ has always been our ‘I love you’ though hasn’t it?’ 

‘Wai-…wait a second.’ 

His mouth clamps shut at your words. You’re staring at the boy you love bewildered. Did he just say those words? Did you just hear those words? A smile creeps up onto your face until it has your whole body under its joyous and unrelenting control. 

‘Can you repeat that for me?’ 

You can’t help the smirk that comes across your face, so teasing and grinch-like that his own drops from his face. Though as he watches your face become more deranged whilst waiting for him, the swelling of his heart is so large that he can’t think of anything else. 

‘Forget it,’ Minho huffs and shakes your head. 

There’s your guy. 

You smile properly this time and it’s all very sweet that his own melts his whole face into a softer version of him. Unable to contain your emotions, you lean forward, pressing a soft peck to his lips. He can taste the chocolate on his lips and though it’s not his favourite flavour, he’ll take it. 

Once again, he finds himself hooking a stray hair away from your face, smiling at the contrast to the last time he was so close to you. His hands are warm as they cup your jaw, and your smiles refuse to erase even when he presses his lips to yours. Your own palms lay flat on his cheeks as you deepen the kiss a little, feeling the way his eyebrows furrow in that Minho way of his and his hands fall to your waist. 

You pull away, not wanting any embarrassing talk with the Vice Chancellor about indecency and sexual health. You can’t help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you murmur, ‘My boyfriend….I love you.’ 

Every part of him is touching you. His forehead rests flat on yours. His palms and fingers align themselves to each other but not quite interlocking together. His lips on your jaw with another chaste kiss. Even the tips of his shoes meet up with yours and nothing has ever felt righter than this moment. 

This is your guy. 

You fucking love your guy. 

J U S T  S A Y  I T

you have two boyfriends. one’s fake and the other a secret. one is avoiding love whilst the other is slowly opening himself to it. a story in which one’s cowardice, another’s insecurities and your own volition leads you here, overwhelmed and exhausted, in the middle of two best friends.

chapter forty seven : chocolate bars

masterlist | prev | next

author’s note : so guys there’s only a couple more chapters to go! I’m up to the last chapter and then the little something something after it so make sure you read that! I have surgery on the day ‘Chapter Forty Nine’ goes up so there may or may not be links until I’m either out of hospital or no longer on anaesthesia. It depends on how fucked up I get it! 

taglist : @soobin-chois @penny-quinn @brit97 @bestleeknowstan @hhjkji @skzgallll @aspenwritesstuff @amara-mars @midsoulz @kflixnet @flvr4ane @01liacore @septicrebel @sheiiy

#k-labels #kflixnet #ficscafe #stray kids fic #stray kids social au #stray kids smau #skz social au #stray kids han jisung #stray kids lee know #stray kids imagines #stray kids han jisung imagines #stray kids lee know imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids han jisung scenarios #stray kids lee know scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids han jisung fluff #stray kids lee know fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids han jisung angst #stray kids lee know angst #stray kids suggestive #stray kids x reader

[rose-likesto-write]

Stray Kids Headcanon

Them as cold boyfriends

Member: Lee Know

Genre: Fluff

AU: Cold BF

Rating: T

Word Count: around 1 k

A/N:- Hey, fam.. so sorry for the delay. My work is purely fictional and doesn't give or suggests that the boys may act out like this. I hope you will all like it! Also it turned into a mini scenario.. 😐 I am sorry that the GIFs don't meet the criteria of the story..

It will be member wise :")

Lee Know

• Percentage of being a cold personality 100000000/100

• Just like Chan gives the similar vibes of being rude and I will break your face but it's like a 100 times fold.

• Living example of 'Stay the fuck away from me' vibes

• Character development inspired from the most cold personality characters you would find from various novels, animes, dramas, movies and anything just name it.

• Looks very intimidating.

•Intimidating enough that you would get scared and will forget why were you walking his direction.

• Seems like a loner, introverted with no like a big no social life

• But has a very handful of friends who know who actually he is and how he acts

• Maybe that's how you noticed him

• He was with his friends and he laughed catching your attention.

• You were new to the school in which he studied.

• Being clueless and in need of urgent help you almost ran towards his group.

• "Excuse me" , the whole group went silent

• "I am so sorry for bothering you all but can you all please help me. I am searching for the staff room in Block C but a few students kinda gave me the wrong directions and I am lost. Please."

• You seemed as if any moment tears will spill, you never expected this. Its really beyond of what is known as 'Expect the unexpected'

• "Come with me but don't talk to me" Lee Know said making everyone surprised and shocked.

•Before any of you could say anything, he took his bag and started walking.

• You thanked everyone before running after him.

• Keeping his condition, you walked along with him. You weren't thinking if this was weird or not but you thought everyone has a comfort zone and plus he is literally saving your life.

• On the way, you thought a few people were or might be coming at your direction but didn't. Who cares though

• Once, you reached he was about to go to his class but you stopped him, "I know you said don't talk to me but thank you so much. I really thought that I will be lost here and maybe worse. Bless you"

• He got surprised for a second and muttered a small welcome but he held you your wrist and whispered, "Just make sure that you speak to a handful of people whom you can trust and the rest are snake."

• You nodded and you two went towards your destinations

•You got a week's off before your classes began as the school had some orientation programme and related events

• On the first day, you reached the school early and saw the same but a few boys who saved you.

• One of them smiled and called you, "Hey, I am Chan and they are Han and Changbin."

•You introduced yourself and they made you feel really comfortable and at home

• As time passed and other students came in,you find the boys restless but before you could say something—

• "Lee Know, where were you? What happ-

• "Nothing much an- What are you doing here?" Lee Know said with a cold voice staring at your soul

• "This is my classroom and C-Chan spoke to me." You said and sheepishly went back to your seat.

• Throughout the class you felt someone's stare but couldn't point out who could be.

•Days, passed like that. You did managed to make a few good aquatainces but you somehow leaned and kinda wish to talk to him.

•While there is a change in Lee's behaviour and none couldn't point out on exact cause as to why but he has become more cold than before but maybe soft.

• Maybe, God did listened to you as now here you were treating Minho's injuries

•"You look smart but I didn't knew you would do such stuff" you softly muttered while applying ointment.

• "Excuse me? Also, I didn't ask you to do this." He coldly replied making you a bit teary but you were strong as you thought; although not at moment.

•"Then, why are you still here. Go" your glossy ones stared into his cold ones.

• His eyes went soft but also panicked as he didn't know what to say

•"I don't know what or why did you helped me that day or even today but let me a bit grateful and thankful to you and say a few things. This place isn't giving me any welcoming vibe but I still felt home because of your friends and you. I know it's weird but still and I really hate when someone gets harmed just because I am naive."

• How did you even know that he fought because you were being objectified and targeted.

•"Y/N, l-listen.. I did because I didn't want to be like me. I am sorry for hurting you" he said and stood up. Before leaving, he said a small thank you which made you smile.

•For the next a week or so, You noticed your favourite things like a small flower or candy being placed on your desk before you come.

• At first you were scared, so you asked the boys' opinions and they said that they would look out for you and the things smelled fresh indicating there wasn't something added.

• Lee Know started to talk to you slowly and maybe he did waited for you after class on the pretext of being going in that direction.

•After some time, he gathered up the courage and confessed. You couldn't be anymore happy and excited. So, you kissed his cheek but then realisation hit you that you didn't take his consent and he might have felt uncomfortable.

•"So-" he pulled you into a soft yet passionate kiss

•"I love you too kitten" he smirked when he saw you being all blushy mess

•Pet names especially "kitten", "baby" are his weapons to make you all shy and blush mess

• Deliberately would make kissing faces or do some sensual touches to make you red and squirm

•That doesn't mean he will make you uncomfortable. No never.

•Everthing has a decorum, place and time but when he is jealous. Hope Lord saves you bub.

•Will fight anyone who would remotely flirt with you or look at your direction.

•Would only kill when someone tries to make you feel uncomfortable in any way

•Glares and clenched fist thrown at anyone who comes anywhere near.

•Hugs and neck kisses have now become his favourite activities especially the latter one when you introduce him as your boyfriend in public

•Loves skin ship but won't let you know

•Always makes sure tht you have eaten and you look after yourself

•Otherwise, it won't be a pleasant sight as he will give an hour's scolding on why should you look after yourself.

•You always come second. Of course, his cats are his top most priority.

• Loves it when you snuggle in his neck or chest. When you sit on his lap and hug while listening to his heartbeats and sometimes fall a sleep when listening to it.

•His another day's highlight is when he lays his head on your lap or thigh and you gently play with his hair and sometimes kiss his forehead especially when he is asleep or you think he is asleep

•Enjoys the intimate time with you and would try to make new dishes with you and experiment 'disasters' just to spend more time with you as in like cleaning the mess and then ordering takeouts.

• Would take you on intimate dates and maybe to some fun sized places like amusement parks or underwater museums

• Visit to cat cafes is a must.

•Always listens to you before his speaking about his own stuff or when to give his opinions.

•His heart swells with happiness and pride when you showoff the little presents he gives you to other people or when you give a sassy reply to someone who was being mean.

•Sometimes, thinks how his life has changed in this amount of time but he isn't complaining

• He is grateful to all good spirits, people and God who have listened to his prayers or the people who have sent him their blessings and good wishes.

• Now, his only aim is to get a good job that would make you have a great life and soon in near future he will marry you and start a family.

#kvanity #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids lee know #stray kids lee know imagines #stray kids #lee know imagines #lee know #lee know fluff #lee know headcanons #stray kids headcanon #stray kids headcanons #stray kids cold bf au #cold bf au headcanon #lee know cold bf au #skz requests #lee know skz #skz scenarios #skz headcanons #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x gender neutral reader #lee know x you #send me feedback #anon request #anonymous request #send asks #send me anons #send me asks

[forlix]

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date. 

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

han turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and han look at each other, sigh. han takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice.

“you’re so fucking sexy, holy shit.”

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck. 

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence. 

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips. 

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade. 

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #k-labels #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #*writing #*headcanons

[baby-yongbok]

Boyfriend SKZ!Fake Texts - They have a wet dream about you

Genre: Smut, fairly detailed. Like, its dirty

Warnings: mentions of unprotected sex (wear a rubber, yall), breeding (? - if you squint and only for Jeongin's), Jeongin is a tad bit possessive, It gets more dirty the further you get.

✧ Masterlist ✧

Chan

Lee Know/Minho

Changbin

Hyunjin

Han

Felix

Seungmin

I.N

#skz fake texts #stray kids fake texts #skz texts #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids texts #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz au #skz #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids headcanons #skz ot8

[soobnny]

stolen kisses with stray kids — established relationship, extreme fluff, some might be suggestive ? (2.0k words)

moments they steal a kiss & where they do it

chan. during movie night when everyone’s asleep

it’s a little scandalous, they way he reaches for your lips while his friends are asleep during one of your movie nights.

it’s around 2am, and the only reason you’re still awake is because chan’s being extra clingy with the way he squeezes your waist, running his cold hand under your shirt.

how can anyone expect him to fall asleep though? not when you’re so close to him, and he can smell your shampoo, and feel your steady breathing.

“sleepy.” you mumble, grabbing the ends of your shared blanket that jisung had stolen most of hours ago. chan had to excuse himself midway through your third movie to get you a new one.

“hmm.” he hums in response, nuzzling his nose against your hair, hands planting themselves on your bare waist. “is my baby sleepy?”

“mhm.” chan can’t help but grin down at you, disentangling his head from your hair for a moment to look at you—your sleepy smile and drooping eyes. how could he not press his lips on yours when you’re looking at him like that?

it feels like a shot of espresso, and he would’ve gone in for another one had you not fallen asleep, head buried in his neck and arms gripping his shirt.

minho. at the dance practice room while waiting for everyone else to arrive

minho’s arms are immediately locked around your torso the minute you walk into your university’s dance practice room. your boyfriend had rented it out for the evening with his friends to practice their final project, and you’d come with dinner and your support.

“5 minutes.” he whispers with a sinister grin, and you’re about to question what he meant when he goes straight in for your lips. ah, five minutes before his friends get here.

his lips aren’t shy at all. you can feel him growing more desperate as seconds pass, and you don’t know what’s gotten into your boyfriend for him to be kissing you like this, but you don’t exactly have any complaints.

minho kisses up your jaw, pulling your hips closer to his before planting his lips back on yours. and you have to admit, it’s a little attractive to catch a glimpse of the way he’s holding you and the way he’s kissing you from the dance studio’s big fucking mirror.

you don’t even realize how much time had passed. everything felt like a blur with the way your boyfriend was kissing you. but before you know it, there are knocks on the door and minho is breathing heavily against your neck.

he presses one last final kiss on your lips before he’s pulling away from the tight grip he’d placed you in earlier. it’s impressive, the way he immediately switches to a more composed version of himself—unlocking the doors and welcoming his friends inside. the smile on his face is gone, and it makes your face heat up to think that they have no idea what had happened just five minutes before they walked into the studio.

changbin. in the gym room against the lockers

“babe, i have the water bottle you’d left—oh!”

changbin gives you no warning when he kisses you against the lockers of his condominium’s gym. you suppose it’s because he’s the only one there. despite his appearance, your boyfriend is usually shy when it comes to public displays of affection.

it doesn’t help that he has a very visible afterglow after his workout session, sheen of sweat on his arms and forehead, and it really is hard to look away—well, it would’ve been hard if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way he was kissing you. it’s slow, and very very hot because it’s so uncharacteristic of your boyfriend to be kissing you like this where anyone could walk in on you. he lets his lips linger for a little longer than your usual kisses, completely taking away your breath.

when he pulls away, he’s still staring at your lips, and you can see a soft smile playing on his. he sends you another peck on the lips before he’s grabbing at the water bottle in your hand.

“thanks baby.” he downs the water in one chug, arms flexing and playing into the fabric of the top he’s wearing. you’re still against the lockers, where he’d pushed you against earlier, and his free arm is still locking you in place. you feel akin to a schoolgirl, with her crush so close.

the thought of him kissing you again like this has you mentally kicking your feet.

hyunjin. in the art studio’s closet where they keep the supplies

he kisses you in the university’s art studio closet—where they keep the supplies. you’d only meant to help hyunjin clean up, but you find yourself locked between his arms with his lips on yours. maybe it’s something about how your boyfriend is much more romantic when he’s in his artist’s mindset, but he refuses to pull away.

you don’t know he’d spent hours prior trying to paint even just a fraction of how he feels about you on the canvas. you were only able to catch a glimpse of vivid colors, the same that’s staining his hands and clinging to his skin.

hyunjin only pulls away when he accidentally knocks down a stool in the cramped space, pulling away and shyly crinkling his nose. it’s a direct contrast to how rough he’d been, hands roaming every possible inch of your face and neck and waist.

when you step outside, you catch your reflection in the studio’s big studio. the sight makes your cheeks heat up embarrassingly, and hyunjin has to apologize for caking your face with the paint that had been on his hands prior to stealing your lips in that closet.

jisung. at the dorm room while his roommate is away

can someone really blame him? you just looked so kissable with your pouty lips and your furrowed eyebrows. when you’d finally succumbed to studying for the night, jisung wastes no time, catching your lips in his.

he’d give anything to continue pressing his lips into yours for the entirety of his life.

and if not for the rest of his life, then at least for a couple more hours while the sun is still up — and while felix (his roommate) is very much not in their dorm yet.

jisung smiles at you when you pull away—that dumb smile he always gives you when he’s not quite done kissing you yet. he has his hands firmly planted on your hips, and his legs are outstretched so you’re comfortable on his lap.

you have a feeling you’ll leave his dorm with a flushed face and swollen lips. you hope felix isn’t on his way home anytime soon.

felix. while baking seungmin’s birthday cake, everytime jisung exits the kitchen

in his dorm’s mini kitchen while the three of you with jisung bake seungmin’s birthday cake. he only ever does it when his roommate is too distracted with other things like what he should get the younger boy—would a gag gift of a stuffed penis be enough to torment seungmin? you can hear him clearly from the living room, calling out to ask you for advice, but felix stands firm on wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

“felix, stop! jisung might walk in on us.” though you’re telling him to stop, it’s a little hard to convince your boyfriend when you’re giggling and kissing him back.

who could blame felix though? how can he not kiss you when there’s frosting on your lips from decorating the cake? and what better way to clean it than kissing it off?

he has you lifted up on the counter, stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs. you’d shiver once in a while, it can’t be helped when the boy’s running his cold hands up and down your bare skin, hiking your shirt up just a little bit.

and he’s mastered the art of excuses at this point, always having something to say when jisung walks into the kitchen and suspiciously eyes the both of you because why are your lips the same color as the extra frosting.

though, on his hundredth attempt at secretly kissing you, jisung walks right in and immediately screams “my eyes!” as he runs away with his palms covering his eyes.

seungmin. against the bookshelves of the library

“kiss me.” it feels wrong coming out of his lips. your goody two shoes, straight a’s boyfriend, whispering for you to kiss him in the library.

seungmin’s taking advantage of the fact that nobody ever stays at the university’s library past 12am, not when exam seasons are far off. he had dragged you here earlier, something about a project, and with nothing better to do, you’d thought you would accompany him.

you’d expected him to bury his face in his laptop as usual, square glasses on his concentrated face. you didn’t expect to be making out with him against the bookshelves of the library—somewhere by the anatomy section, you don’t even remember anymore.

it’s like he prepared for this too, knowing exactly where you won’t be caught. he has you between his arms, and he ghosts your face terribly close to his.

it really isn’t difficult to admit that seungmin is wildly attractive like this. while you loved your nerdy boyfriend, something about him with his messy hair and his eyeglasses discarded has you breathing erratically.

his lips immediately catch yours when you lean forward to kiss him. it’s a little messy, but you give into it, and into his tongue that’s swiping on your bottom lip. you don’t know what had warranted this, but it definitely isn’t unwelcomed.

you only pull away when you hear the librarian surveying the lines of shelves, noticing that you and seungmin had been gone a little too long. it really isn’t that hard to find a book.

when you come back to your corner table, seungmin doesn’t say anything. his glasses are back on his frame, but it’s hard to miss his smirk and the way he’s running his tongue over his lips once in a while.

jeongin. under the school’s staircase in between class

jeongin loves to steal kisses in between classes. he’d kiss you anywhere, behind your department’s building, inside an empty classroom, anywhere with no prying eyes.

today, it’s under your school’s staircase. he kisses you sweetly, almost romantic. the kind of kiss that tells you he misses you despite it only being a few hours since you last saw each other.

he kisses you over and over in between quiet conversation about how your class went—how was that quiz you had? was it a boring one? he loves listening to you talk, and he loves interrupting you once in a while to place a short peck on your lips. it’s usually when you say your ‘w’s or any letter that puckers your lips up.

similarly, you ask him questions about his class—was his teacher a little less shitty today? did he finish that group project he’d spent many late hours on? what’s on his mind and why is he looking at you like that?

“you.” he says with a smug smile, and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you stare at each other for a while, but jeongin can only go so long without your lips on his so he grabs your chin with his fingers and pulls you gently to place his lips on yours one last time.

the last kisses always last longer, when he knows he’s running out of time, and your next class is looming around the corner. and your boyfriend always knows how to make it count.

“see you on your next break, babe.”

#stray kids drabble #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids headcanons #skz x reader #skz x you #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz reactions #stray kids reactions #chan x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #changbin x reader #seo changbin x reader #fluff #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader

[fluffylino]

pussy drunk minho

he'll never admit how dumb he gets for your pussy~

-contains mature themes

"kitten, im not that obsessed with your pussy" minho scoffed out. you clicked your tongue.

now that was a lie.

"i doubt you could last an entire week without it" you argued back. he smirked.

"game on." now it was your turn to make a face.

"so if i win, you'll wear the collar?" his expression dropping. you could see the wheels in his head turning. wondering if he could really beat you against this game.

"that is...that is if you win. which you won't im sure of it but alright" you couldn't help but smile.

"deal"

"seriously though i can live without eating you out..." you laughed right in his face. to which he rolled his eyes.

the whole argument starting when you asked if you could dom him. his immediate response being a firm no. you couldn't help but whine, even begging for it.

if he could dom you. you could dom him.

his response being "i'd rather be the one in control. i feel uneasy submitting."

so you decided to pry more into it. you wanted to know more. to truly understand him.

"because i feel like my mind will go all fuzzy and i'll look like an idiot" that was exactly why you wanted to take charge. if not for sometime. you were happy even if it was a one time thing.

minho was cute eitherway and he'd be even more cuter on his knees.

and then what really did it for you was when he said he wasn't that obsessed with eating you out.

a lie honestly.

his morning routine consisting of waking you up with his face between your legs. breathless and absolutely horny. grinding against the mattress.

it didn't matter if he had to go out. that always came first. and he was one to give amazing head. always having that confident smirk after making you cum.

.

.

the day one was fine.

he seemed normal. doing his daily tasks. going to the company. coming back all sweaty and laying on your chest. you couldn't help how sweet he was.

day three was when you noticed him staring.

you hadn't even realised the t shirt you were wearing had ridden up. enough to have your panties exposed. he was talking to you about the dance formations when all of a sudden you noticed the way his eyes kept lingering downwards.

so playfully you spread your legs open and closed them. you weren't being obvious. him on the other hand was captivated.

eyes locked onto your covered heat.

"minho." you called out. he looked back at your face so fast you wanted to laugh.

"hm?" he hummed out, casually walking out of the room, mumbling that he was going to shower.

when he did go for a bath, you pressed your ear against the door. a heat pooling in your lower abdomen at the sound of him jacking off.

"pfft and he says he can do without it" you muttered under your breath.

.

"you want my cunt so bad, don't you baby" you teased. loving the way he hid his face in the pillows beside you. it looked like he was throwing a tantrum.

"come onnn just put the collar on and then you can taste me-" you suggested, rubbing his back.

"no no no no no-" he chanted cutting you off mid sentence, voice muffled.

stubborn as hell. there was no possible way he would do it.

.

.

"was it that difficult, huh?" minho stared up at you with crazy eyes.

first of all, to get him on his knees was a hassle. and now he glared at you playfully. you let out a small laugh. he really looked like an angry kitten. the clip on cat ears and black collar around his neck made him look so soft.

"are you gonna be a goo-"

"just let me eat y-" you clicked your tongue. now he was really pissing you off. a bratty smile on his face. you just wanted to slap him.

"yes yes. now can i-"

"thats it. im done" you stood up, ready to leave. until you were pulled back. minho gripping your thighs. a look of guilt on his face.

"i'm sorry. i'll be good" he mumbled, a small pout emerging.

"promise?"

"hmmmm"

you sighed. you didn't trust him yet. so you took the leash out. his mouth opening and closing when you hooked it onto the collar. his eyes locked onto were you clutched the leash.

"wh-"

his original question turning into a breathy moan. his face plummeting between your legs.

inhaling your soaked panties for a good few seconds. before he lifted his head back up.

using his teeth to take off your panties. you could see the way his breath hitched upon seeing your cunt. it had been so long since. he saw your pussy. after days. up close. leaning in.

a firm tug to the collar. a small grunt leaving him.

"you think you can just get right into it?" you raised an eyebrow, looking down at him. he seemed to understand. his pride wouldn't let him. but reluctantly he asked.

"may i...please?"

you nodded. satisfied.

.

you gasped. fuck you hadn't even realised how much you missed his mouth on you. his tongue licking into your cunt.

nose deliciously rubbing against your clit. face practically buried there. you were worried he wouldn't be able to breathe.

so you held onto his collar, pulling him back.

"m-mmmh... i-ive been so good" he whined, breathing heavily. your essence and his spit staining his chin and nose.

you noticed he was hard. precum soaking into his sweatpants.

"don't think i didn't notice you humping my foot" you choked out.

pussy throbbing at the loss of contact. you needed his mouth back on you.

"couldn't h-help it, sorry" he apologised, keeping his head down. as if he didn't deserve it. you ran your hands through his hair, tucking a few strands behind his ear.

"its okay, kitten. use my leg, hm?" you reassured, closing your legs around his head.

"aahmmhh f-fuck" minho cried out. enveloped by your thighs. nevertheless taking the opportunity to slurp at your dripping cunt. lewd noises echoing throughout the room.

his hips slowly moving. beginning to grind against your foot. you unconciously pressed down on his cock.

a muffled whimper escaping him.

"you're such a slut, a-aren't you" you hissed out. his lips wrapped around your swollen clit. as he sucked. pushing his nose against your cunt. trying to take more than he could possibly handle.

"say it, baby. you're a slut.." he gasped, glassy eyes looking up at you. sweat dripping down his neck.

lips swollen and red.

"s-slut for...for your p-pussy" he repeated. begging to make you cum.

"dumb f-for your cunt only ahhh"

"please p-please c-cum m-mommy" your breath hitching at the name. you let him get back. cock begging for release.

"gonna cum?" you whimpered out, nearly your climax. his head shaking as he humped your leg desperately.

"c-come on kitty, make me cum"

you moaned loudly, his wet muscle shoved so deep inside of you. his own high pitched moan joining you. both of you cumming at the same time.

a wet patch on his pants. his hips still bucking as he let his tongue hang out. riding his climax out.

nevertheless he cleaned you up. licking and running his tongue through your folds. making sure to not waste a single drop of your tasty essence.

small little whines leaving him at your taste.

"my perfect kitty" you praised him. minho panting as he looked at you. pouting. asking for a kiss. his head resting against your thigh.

"good k-kitty?"

"did so good for me"

.

.

"yeah okay okay...im a hundred percent drunk on your damn pussy"

"AHAH SO I WON-"

.

.

.

#pussy drunk minho #he is such a brat #needs to be put #in his place #kitty minho #lee minho smut #lee know smut #minho smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz imagines #skz drabbles #lee know imagines #lee minho imagines #minho imagines #minho eating pussy #minho eating out #but he is also daddy #but he is also subby #sub!stray kids #sub!lee know #sub!lee minho #fluffylino works

[seungminhour]

┌──── -ˏˋ 📱 ˎˊ-

└➤ how bf!skz would react to you not calling them by a nickname / term of endearment

hyung line | maknae line

◞✩ pairing : bf!skz x gn!reader

◞✩ contains : humor, fluff, swearing, just general shenanigans

◞✩ notes : thank you guys sm for 500 followers 🥹 i’m gonna try to finish a bunch of my drafts to celebrate 🫶

01. bang chan.

02. lee minho.

03. seo changbin.

04. hwang hyunjin.

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids texts #stray kids smau #stray kids x you #stray kids drabbles #skz #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz texts #skz smau #skz drabbles #skz imagines #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #lee know fluff #lee know x reader #changbin fluff #changbin x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader

[slutforleeminho]

“i wanna try something.” you breathed out between the hot and messy kisses you were giving minho, his hands gripping your waist tighter and pulling your hips down against his clothed bulge. he was already so hard, it amazed you how you could do the bare minimum and he would be fully erect in just minutes.

“whatever you want, baby.” he looked at you with so much love and admiration. that’s how he always responded to your requests, inside and outside the bedroom. ‘whatever you want, if i have it it’s yours.’ and then he’d kiss you until you forgot what it was you were even asking of him.

“you don’t even know what it is yet. how can you be so sure that you’ll want to?” you moved away from his lips to his neck, leaving little love bites as you went. he sighed when you sucked on the little sensitive spot behind his ear.

“oh baby, it isn’t in my blood to say no to you, especially when you’re sitting on top of me like this. you could tie me down to this bed right now and take me however you wanted and i wouldn’t refuse.” his brows were furrowed and eyes screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips on his skin. he looked so fucked out, which made you wonder if he was just saying those things and not actually meaning them. but you refused to pass this moment up without at least trying. so you sat straight up, separating your top half from his. his eyes shot open and searched you face for the answer as to why you stopped. “did i say something wrong? i’m sorry, love, i didn’t-”

“no, you said exactly what i wanted to hear.” you smirked down at him, waiting for him to realize what you meant and when his eyes widened and you felt his dick twitch through his thin sweatpants you knew he understood. “would you like that? for me to cuff you this bed and have my way with you,” you asked in the most innocent voice you could, a big contrast to your words. “use you however i please.” your words went straight to his throbbing cock.

“yes. fuck, baby please.” his eyes were full of lust and anticipation, his voice so quiet and submissive that you didn’t recognize this person under you at all. you didn’t respond verbally, settling on silently removing yourself from his lap and stripping him of all remaining clothing. you didn’t get naked yourself until the pair of handcuffs you kept in your bedside table were safely securing his wrists to the bed frame above his head. when you did take your clothes off you did so very slowly, taking your time just to see him squirm. Minho didn’t take his eyes off of you once, not until you were back on top of him and the tip of his pulsing cock was pressed against your entrance. he threw his head back and sighed before he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from falling apart beneath you. at least not so soon.

you took in everything about this moment, not wanting to forget anything about it. the way the veins that ran down his arms bulged, to the way he twitched every now and then, seemingly very worked up. his chest rising and falling violently, you’ve never seen him like this, so…. so submissive and pliant. it made you want to eat him alive. you ran your hands up his torso, feeling his hot skin against the palm of your hands. a little whine escaped his lips when you grazed his nipples with your fingernails. his hips rutted up into you, resulting in his swollen tip slipping inside of you. he gasped from the sudden stimulation and raised them higher in search of more. you took both of his nipple in between your fingers and and pinched them. he winced from the pain and looked at you with confusion all over his face.

“bad boy,” his eyes widened. “ i didn’t say you could do that.” you didn’t know why you had said that and immediately regretted it. minho was always the dominant one in your relationship, the one who called the shots, the one who called you a bad girl. and that’s why you were in complete shock when he uttered a quiet “i’m sorry.” you tried to hide your surprise the best you could and continue with your switched roles. “how will you make it up to me?” he scanned the room as if the answer was written on the walls somewhere, and apparently it was cause his eyes lit up as he quickly turned his head to look at you.

“sit on my face.”

“hmmm,” you pretended to think about it. “should i?” he quickly nodded and you chuckled at his eagerness. the thought did have you clenching so you moved up his body until your thighs were on either side of his head. his eyes sparkled as he stared at your dripping sex, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. he looked starved and he just found the perfect meal, so he lifted his head in attempt to attach his lip to your core. he only made it so far before you yanked his head back by his hair. “once again, not asking for permission,” your whole brain chemistry was altered when he basically sobbed, a little tear sliding down the side of his face. “i should punish you,” you were loving this a little too much. “but that will have to wait.” he opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off by completely sitting on his mouth. he didn’t miss a beat before devouring, running his tongue through your folds before nipping and sucking harshly on your clit. his hands were balled up into fists and pulling away from the cuffs, his biceps flexing from the strain on his muscles. the veins on his arms were protruding and you couldn’t keep yourself from running a finger over them, tracing out the greenish blue lines. his skin was on fire, almost too hot for you to touch. almost.

you mindlessly started grinding down on his tongue, riding his face for your own pleasure. you weaved your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you, chasing after the euphoric feeling you knew only he could give you. and after a few more thrusts of his tongue and sucking hard on your clit one last time, you were coming. chest heaving and moaning his name like it’s the only thing you knew. once you came down and moved off of his face minho took a deep breath of air and only then you realized you almost suffocated the poor boy. “aww i’m sorry baby, could you not breathe?” you held the side of his face, wiping away your arousal from the corner of his mouth. he was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer you but that was fine you’d get an answer out of him.

you sank down on his cock completely without so much as a warning. “ah- baby wait- i wasn’t- fuck i wasn’t ready.”

“i don’t need your permission.” you ground yourself against him. he threw his head back against the pillows and arched his back.

“if you keep going i’m gonna come. so please… stop.” he pleaded, his voice was so quiet which was very unlike him, so you knew he was telling the truth, he was about to explode.

“you want me to stop?” you went from grinding to full on bouncy on him now.

“ahh fuck i’m coming!” his eyes screwed shut, bracing himself for quite possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. only for it to be ripped away. his eyes shot open. “why’d you stop?!” he looked infuriated with you, he was so close why would you take that away from him?

“you told me to stop.” you smirked at him. “why? did you want to come? i’m so, so sorry.” you were talking to him like a baby, pouting down at him like he was a child. “well i guess we can consider that your punishment.”

“uncuff me.” he demanded. “now.”

“oh baby i’d love to.” you grinned. “ but i’m not finished with you yet.”

.

.

.

i’m back!!!!! did you miss me?

taglist: @bangchansbae @yumiblogs @fawnpeaks

#stray kids #skz scenarios #skz smut #skz x reader #lee minho #lee know #lee know smut #skz lee know #lee know x oc #lee know x reader #lee know x you #lee know scenarios #lee know x y/n #skz imagines #skz stay #skz fanfic #stray kids minho #lee know stray kids #lee know skz #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x oc #skz x stay #straykids x reader #straykids smut #straykids lee know #minho smut #stray kids smut #kpop smut #kpop oneshots

[chogiwow]

the interview with the exes | lee minho

lee know x reader | 1.6k+ | series masterlist

the studio is a small white room. there are two seats in the middle of it. there’s minimal lighting in the room. the crew stands in silence, watching the interview unfold.

two people enter, cautiously nodding at each other and take a seat.

and so, the interview with your ex begins as the camera starts rolling.

[interviewer: hello, you’re the second couple today we’re going to interview, are you guys ready?]

minho: [nods slowly]

y/n: [smiles at the camera before nodding]

[interviewer: can you guys introduce yourselves while looking at the camera and state your relation?]

minho: [waving at the camera] hi, i’m lee minho. i’m y/n’s ex.

y/n: i’m l/n y/n…uh, his ex.

[they catch each other’s eyes, immediately looking away. the studio already feels awkward]

[interviewer: how did you guys first meet?]

y/n: we were actually–

minho: [at the same time] we had–

[another awkward glance passes between them]

minho: you go first

y/n: oh umm, we met on a blind date.

minho: [chuckling ]we were both forced to actually

y/n: you’re right haha, i remember you almost stood me up

minho: yeah, but then it started raining and i felt bad for making you wait

y/n: [relaxing their shoulders with a smile] always a gentleman

minho: 

y/n: …

[interviewer: did you two hit it off instantly?]

y/n: ….

minho: well, isn’t this awkward…

y/n: [hesitantly] minho was…let’s just say, he wasn’t the best at being not-so-blunt

minho: [nodding his solemnly] fair enough, which is why i see no point in beating about the bush. i was having a hard couple of days and my friend had set me up on a blind date without asking me…now that i think about it, i guess i had been a bit too rude.

y/n: he did turn up to the date, drenched in the rain. i was about to leave, and honestly i should have been mad at him but seeing as how he had still made it, especially dripping like a soaked cat…it was cute. i guess.

y/n: but then he yelled at me

minho: 

y/n: we got off the wrong foot, because somehow a stranger’s words, for whatever reason, had actually hurt me? [confused]

minho: y-yeah, that…

[another strained silence passes between the two. minho casts furtive glances at y/n, but they keep staring at the floor]

[interviewer: so how did you two start dating?]

minho: do we…do we have to answer these?

y/n: i don’t mind answering, if you’d rather not say

minho: [glancing at y/n guiltily. y/n looks away from him]

minho: [sighing] no. it’s my story to tell as much as yours. 

y/n: we had this…cat and mouse kind of a relationship. i don’t know, i never take offence to what people have to say about me, but i guess when he yelled at me for still waiting for him to turn up for a blind date, i was upset?

minho: how many times do i need to apologise for that?

y/n: [sighing at their hands in their lap] you still don’t get it, do you?

minho: …

y/n: anyway…he must have felt bad about it all, but if you know lee minho as i do, you’d know he’s not one to apologise outright. we fought a lot, even before we started dating…

minho: i’m not sure if i was right to assume that they were just friendly bickering anymore. 

y/n: before? or after?

minho: …before

y/n: oh. no, those didn’t hurt me. you and me and everyone around us seemed to know that we were just flirting.

minho: good. 

y/n: …

y/n: we were always teasing each other

minho: uh huh, it was fun to get on each other’s nerves [chuckles]

y/n: [grinning] true. it did make us closer.

minho: …

y/n: i suppose i really was delusional.

minho: [coughs into his hand]

[interviewer: i think it would be safe to assume you had been frenemies at one point? and that eventually led to dating?]

y/n: [shaking their head] not entirely. it was the reason we dated, but the intentions were not entirely similar.

minho: [clearing his throat] they asked me out first and…

y/n: and he accepted out of pity.

minho: y/n…

y/n: because he never liked me that way.

minho: i did like you. just not romantically.

[interviewer: hold on, i thought you two dated?]

minho: we did

y/n: yes. he was gracious enough to do that.

minho: how are you still hung up on this? it’s been a year already, why can’t you just believe me that i did like you?

y/n: after we broke up? because you lied to me for six months and kissed me out of pity–

minho: i did not kiss you out of pity–

[a sob resounds in the studio. someone hands y/n a tissue to wipe their cheeks. minho stops talking and looks down at his feet in silence.]

minho: i didn’t want you to feel bad.

y/n: [sniffling] and you thought the best way to do that was to pretend to like me?

minho: i felt like i had to do it, especially after…after everything i had put you through. people always told me that you only pretended to not care about my teasing. i thought i genuinely hurt you with my words.

y/n: …

y/n: that was a shitty move on your part.

[interviewer, to y/n: how do you feel about this now?]

y/n: [waving their hands with a breathy chuckle] obviously i don’t seem to be over it.

[interviewer turns to minho, gesturing him to answer the same question]

minho: i’m sorry. that’s all i have to say about this. but y/n [he swivels his chair to face them], i never meant to hurt you and what i said was…is true.

[interviewer: how did you two break up?]

minho: honestly, i thought that was clear enough by now.

y/n: he told me. it was a stupid fight, something to do with his cats. one thing led to another and…he just confessed.

minho: [biting his lips, running a hand through his hair]

y/n: it was messed up, i thought i was an idiot to have gone through all that. now…i don’t even know why i liked him in the first place.

[the camera pans into minho’s face. he blinks slowly at the ground, then looks over to where y/n is sitting.]

y/n: it explained why he was so…detached all the time. i thought he just wanted his personal space respected, i didn’t know i was a living a fantasy all by myself.

y/n: [turning to look at minho] did you…even for a second, like me at all in those six months?

minho: i did. i’m not sure when i started having genuine feelings for you, but the reason i told you was because i didn’t want to be confused with what i was feeling and what i should have been feeling.

minho: it was all muddled up in my head. i just…didn’t know that losing you would be the way i realised it.

y/n: you should hate me for putting you through all that

minho: you should hate me for being a dick

y/n: …

[interviewer: do you regret dating?]

y/n: [shaking their head] i can’t say i do. even though it might have all been a lie, i…i couldn’t hate him in the end for it. it does hurt me, but i’m still touched that he’d do that for me. it was twisted but…[shrugs]

minho: i regret not being sincere about it. but the time i spent with them is precious to me, even now. it’s made me realise a lot of things, their value and…i wish i could say more about this, but i feel like i don’t deserve to answer this question.

[both of them refuse to say any more on this matter]

[interviewer: do you think you would give this another try?]

minho: … 

y/n: …

minho: would it be too hopeful of me to say yes?

y/n: [looking at him warily] you know you don’t mean that…

minho: how would you know?

y/n: and how would you? wouldn’t it be the same thing all over again, just your guilt eating you up?

minho: would it help if i said i missed you?

[minho is looking at y/n, the camera fails to capture his expression though]

y/n: [looking away from him with a shake of their head] no. i don’t think so.

y/n: i don’t think i will be able to.

[interviewer: that’s a wrap for today. thank you both, for agreeing to do this interview. we wish you the best for the future.]

the crew dissipates with a sombre sigh, murmuring amongst themselves. someone hands y/n another tissue.

minho: [handing them a bottle of water after unscrewing it] i’m sorry you had to go through that.

y/n: actually, i’m glad we did this. we never really had closure. i think i needed this.

minho: [carefully] is what you said final?

y/n: …

y/n: i don’t think i’ve ever see you tear up like you did before, i almost feel bad…but you have to understand, i’m just looking out for myself now.

minho: [nodding, opening his mouth to say something but you’ve already turned your back on him]

y/n: good luck minho.

the camera catches minho letting his hands fall limply by his side, a defeated smile on his face, unable to ask for the hug he had gathered his courage to ask you for. the last shot is of him staring at your back before it’s shut down.

#behold the pain is back hehe :> #stray kids imagines #lee know imagines #stray kids minho imagines #minho stray kids imagines #stray kids lee know imagines #lee know stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids angst

[banghyunchanji]

Imagine you and your boyfriend Lee Know having a date at the park

GIF DOES NOT BELONG TO ME @straykidstray

#lee know #lee know fluff #lee know x yn #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know reactions #lee know scenarios #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids x yn #stray kids x you #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids lee know #stray kids lee know imagines #stray kids lee know reactions #stray kids lee know scenarios #kpop #kpop fluff #kpop x you #kpop x yn #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop idol #kpop idol fluff

[wooahaes]

skz - forgetting to kiss them

pairing: non-idol!skz x gn!reader

prompt: u forget to kiss them hello when u come home

genre: fluff!! just silly fluff

warnings: food mentions :3 + intentional lowercase & no proofreading.

daisy's notes: couldnt b me. id never stop greeting them w kisses. no one look at how long jisung's is i was particularly delulu when i wrote it

bang chan

chris noticed... almost immediately that was off about you. the embarrassing part was that it was partially due to the fact you didn't greet him with your usual "hi, i'm home" kiss.

it wasn't that chris looked forward to that kiss (he did, but that wasn't the point). he liked to think he was just... attuned to you. that he could feel the general vibe you had whenever you entered a room. he wasn't missing your "i'm home" kiss--he was merely noticing that you weren't feeling great. that something was weighing on your mind. so he called out as he heard you go back to the kitchen to get something to drink, asking about your day.

immediately, he heard you let out a long sigh. "work was awful and then i missed my bus so i had to take a cab."

chris nodded. "ah. gotcha."

you made your way over, sitting down next to him. "... did i do something?" you looked over toward the door, trying to retrace your steps. you hadn't slammed the door, and you hadn't been too late coming home...

"nah!" he looked over, "i mean, you kinda didn't give me a kiss when you came home. figured something was wrong."

you stared at him for a moment. did you really always give him a kiss when you came home? you liked to, because it was your own little way of saying "hi, i missed you," to him with just a quick peck. after a moment, you leaned in, pressing a quick peck against the corner of his lips before planting another on his lips proper.

"there," you giggled. "is that better?"

judging by the way chris giggled back, pulling you in for a third... maybe not. (but it wasn't as if you were going to complain.)

lee minho

usually, minho didn't mind whether you kissed him or not. he'd always enjoy your kisses, and found it endearing that you pressed a quick kiss against his lips whenever you came home, but he never asked nor would he ever force you to do it. sometimes he'd kiss you as a greeting, though, just because he liked to see your smile.

other times, when he was feeling a little more devious... he'd call out to you, just like he did tonight. "you forgot something!"

you came back into the room, shirt half-unbuttoned as you'd been in the middle of changing. you furrowed your brow, pouting a little as you tried to figure out what was wrong.

he just smiled at you. "you did."

a moment later, it hit you. you snorted, and made your way over, pulling him in for a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer than the usual one you usually gave him. your hands fell to his shoulders, and you drew back. "there. is that better?"

"i missed you," he giggled. "is that so wrong?"

you rolled your eyes, and gave him another peck on the tip of his nose. "love you, too, you dork," you said, pulling away from him to go change.

(and the sound of your laugh as you continued away despite the way he lunged to grab at you, just barely missing your ass... all minho could do was smile to himself.)

seo changbin

changbin was a reasonable guy. he waited a reasonable amount of time (ten minutes: you said you weren't going to shower or anything yet) before approaching you in the kitchen. "are you mad?"

you looked up from where you were working on dinner. he was so genuine about the question, and it threw you for a loop. had you done something to imply that you were...? all you did was get started on dinner because it was your night to cook. "what?"

"we always talk about these things," he said with a sigh. he crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, eyes bearing into your own, "did i do something? you can tell me if i did. it's okay."

"binnie, honey, i have no idea what you're talking about."

"really?" he frowned, and gave you this look of disbelief. "you always give me a kiss when you come home, and today, you didn't. do i need to run to the store? did i forget something--"

oh! you almost laughed at how adorable he could be sometimes. "nope," you said, reaching forward to pull him in. "just got distracted when i got home." ever so casually, you kissed him, and planted an extra on the corner of his mouth. "good to know you'd miss my kisses, though."

changbin just pulled you in again with a giggle, content to steal a few more from you before he let you go... for now.

hwang hyunjin

hyunjin didn't notice at first. he'd been curled up on the couch with a book when you came home, carrying a few bags of groceries that you insisted on handling yourself since they were for tonight's dinner. it was your night to cook after all, and--after asking to make sure you didn't want help--he settled back into his spot.

and then it hit him eventually: you... didn't kiss him when you came home. why didn't you kiss him? you always went out of your way to do it, after all. he leaned up, looking over to where he could see you deeply concentrating on the recipe you were reading. then again, you had set down the groceries and lounged around for a little bit first--the two of you had even talked during that. maybe you were mad at him? he knew he'd been petty about things before and denied you kisses as a result. maybe he was the one who was supposed buy groceries...? but you didn't give him a list or text him anything...

"honey?" he called out.

immediately, it caught you attention. 'honey' wasn't really his usual term of endearment for some reason: you were always his love, his baby. "what's wrong?"

his face grew warmer--was it really that concerning? "nothing--" he started, but realized that you only grew more concerned. "you didn't kiss me when you came home."

"oh."

he decided to keep going, "did i do something--"

"if you want it," you cut him off, "then come get it."

he just stared at you. "... what?"

"i was thinking about dinner," you said, turning back to what you were cooking. "but if you want that kiss, you'll have to come get it."

hyunjin found himself smiling, pushing aside his blanket and the book to get up and make his way over to you. he kissed you, smiling into it as well, as his hands fell to rest on your waist.

all better.

han jisung

jisung was not afraid to admit that he was deeply in love with you. and sometimes... that meant he'd overthink the little things. his heart was so full of devotion to you that sometimes he'd get too deep in his own head, trying not to do anything to wrong you. of course, he knew you, and he knew that you'd always accommodate him by telling him things outright. if he hurt you, you pointed it out and asked for space so that the two of you talk things out properly when both of you were ready for it. but today you were sitting at the other end of the couch, a pillow hugged against your chest as the two of you watched TV. or, well, you watched TV. jisung was watching you.

"hey." his foot bumped against your leg. "did something happen today?"

you tore your gaze away from the screen, brows drawing together. "no?" yet you continued to watch him for a moment, eyes scanning his face for anything that would give him away. "are you okay?"

he nodded. even that confused 'no?' was enough to soothe his thoughts. you would be honest with him, after all: that was what the two of you did. he settled into the couch. "i'm fine," he said, hoping it sounded casual enough.

yet you tilted your head, as if trying to get a better look at him. "baby?" you set the pillow onto the floor, moving a little closer. "did i forget something?"

he grew flustered immediately. "it's okay--it's not a big deal--"

"ohh," you lit up, smiling as you already knew. he liked the twinkle in your eyes whenever you knew something. "i know what it was." you crawled over to him, teasing him a little, "my jisungie didn't get his kiss today--"

he found himself unable to fight back a smile. "it's not a big deal, honey--"

"nope!" you giggled, and practically launched yourself at him. he'd end up pinned against the couch, "gotta make up for it with extra kisses for worrying my jisungie."

god, he loved you. you peppered kisses all over his face despite his laughter, slightly pushing back against where your hands were at his wrists to try and re-ground himself better against the couch, yet you didn't let go. sure, maybe you were hamming it up and acting extra cute for him... but he knew what this was. it was a message, loud and clear, that you cared about him wholeheartedly. you knew he could get anxious sometimes, especially when it came to potentially accidentally upsetting you. 'i want to make you happy' was what you told him once. he hoped you could feel the way he smiled into the soft kiss you pressed against his lips. when you drew back, you just stayed there, hovering over him and admiring how the glow of happiness looked on him.

"i'm home," you said.

jisung just brushed a stray strand of hair away. yeah... you are his home.

lee felix

as much as felix wanted to whine at you playfully for forgetting to kiss him when you came home (a staple of your relationship, he'd joke)... he couldn't help but worry. he continued to work at dinner, mentally going over your interactions today. he knew you well enough to know that he hadn't done anything to upset you unless you were having an off day where everything annoyed you (no shame in it, he thought; he had those days, too). it wasn't until after he finished making dinner that he called out to you.

"did something happen today?"

you looked up, brows drawn together, but he could see the fatigue on your face from stressing about something. "no?"

he set aside what he was doing, making his way over to where you were sitting, laptop open in front of you. you changed tabs immediately away from whatever you were doing for work right as felix began to knead at your shoulders.

"this is cheating," you whined, head dipping back so you could see his face.

"and i'd do it again," he said, dipping down to plant a quick peck against your forehead. "you can talk if you need to. i don't mind listening."

with a sigh, you shut your eyes while felix continued to massage your shoulders. sure enough, there was someone you had to deal with at work that had annoyed you enough that you were still running through the conversations hours later. he just stood there, listening and nodding along as he continued to work his magic on your tense muscles.

when you finished, he leaned down to press another quick kiss against your lips. "feeling better?"

"a lot, actually," you sat straighter in your chair, reaching forward to close your laptop. "thank you, lixie."

kim seungmin

seungmin had sat on the couch for too damn long, pretending that everything was fine. yes, you didn't kiss him when you came home, but that didn't mean anything. clearly, it didn't mean anything. except maybe you were mad at him, and you were withholding a stupid kiss because of it instead of talking it out like adults. that was what the two of you agreed on: no going to bed mad. to say that you were mad and needed space. not... whatever this is.

"seungmin?" you had sat down at the other end of the couch. "what's eating you?"

his eyes were a little too sharp when he looked at you, frustration all too evident on his face when he was supposed to be hiding it. "that's what i should be asking you."

and then... genuine, unfiltered confusion. your brows drew together as you watched him, smile falling. oh.

fuck. you weren't mad at him.

"never mind," he says quickly, "it's stupid--"

you moved over so that you could reach out and take one of his hands in your own, "seungminnie, it's not stupid if it's bothering you!"

ah. using cuteness to get what you wanted. unfair. "you didn't kiss me when you came home like you always do, so i thought you were mad. so then i got made because we agreed to always talk things out."

immediately, you giggled. "aw, seungmin... you really like my kisses that much?"

when you leaned forward to kiss him, he immediately shrank away, trying to block your mouth from his own. "no! not now! it's not the same now!"

yet your laugh was enough to make him drop the act. your lips pressed against his, and he smiled into the kiss, happy to have your arms around him... even if you'd never let him live this down.

yang jeongin

jeongin considered himself one of the more mature people in his friend group. sure, he could be silly and goof off sometimes, but he'd heard his other friends with partners complain about the tiniest things that turned out to be nothing. so with you, he felt a little comfortable in assuming that your "i'm home" kiss just slipped your mind. you'd texted him your bus was running late, so he'd decided to make you a cup of tea for when you came in. and when you threw yourself onto the couch, saying nothing to him for a while...

well, jeongin had a pretty strong feeling that you needed someone to listen to you instead. he'd sat down next to you, passing you the mug as he leaned in to press a quick peck against your lips. his own little "welcome home" kiss that he'd try to greet you with sometimes, if given the chance.

"do you want to talk about it?"

he watched as you took a long sip of tea, letting out a sigh once you'd set the mug down. "work sucked."

jeongin nodded. "and your bus was late..."

another heavy sigh. you turned your face to look at him, reaching for his hand. he gave it to you without any teasing, and watched as you pressed a kiss against his knuckles.

"are you sure it's fine for me to unload all of this on you?"

"that's what i'm here for," he hummed, sliding in a little closer so that he could draw you closer. "you listen to me, right?"

the hint of a smile ghosted over your lips, and jeongin watched as you settled in, head resting on his shoulder. "right..."

he just pressed another kiss into your hair as you launched into telling him about your day. no need for you to worry about giving him any 'i'm home' kisses: jeongin would supply you with as many 'welcome home' kisses as you needed to make you smile again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

#wooahaes.fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #stray kids imagine #skz fics #stray kids fics #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader

[haechanhues]

chapter fifty : the first piece 

warnings : suggestive content (nothing too out there), swearing most likely.

word count : 1.6k

The party was abundant with a crowd of people too large to contain and thus the noise batshit crazy. Everyone seemed to be dancing, drinking or causing mischief. 

Then the police came and chaos unravelled ten fold. Bodies flew into bushes, people rushed to their cars in crowds and other people had attempted to appear natural. You were the poor soul who had just left the bathroom, locked out immediately with your hands still dripping wet. 

‘Hide,’ You heard a hiss and with pressed lips you had opted to hide in the wardrobe closet. As the police had come in with their typical tone of trade, you opened the wardrobe, stunned to see Lee Minho, with both of his knees pulled to his chest. 

His eyes snapped towards you, contemplating whether or not to shut you out or not (he’s glad he didn’t) but the footsteps must have brought along a panic because he yanked you in with him, ignoring the way you were breathing heavily on him. 

You’re quiet and awkward. 

He likes it, that means he can just relax without needing to be overly standoffish to get the point across. Besides, he knew you, albeit briefly and through mutual friends, but he knew you enough to be amiable. 

‘You’re Jisung’s friend,’ Minho commented, ‘From high school aren’t you?’ 

You smiled, ‘Yeah.. and you’re Jisung’s friend from classes.’ 

Minho grinned as well. You remain a little like that, exchanging slight back and forths between each other, enjoying the company. It was only when the crowd had returned its chatter with a low warning from the police about noise control that you had let out a small groan. 

‘Not into this party then?’ Minho opened the wardrobe door and the smile he was wearing took you by immense surprise. 

‘Peer pressured,’ You answer, ‘You?’ 

‘Hwang Hyunjin,’ Is all he says. You nod in acknowledgement before letting the comfortable silence between you linger. 

You have an idea. 

You probably shouldn’t. You probably wouldn’t either. But there’s something about Minho that you can’t help but want to get to know more. 

‘Do you want to ditch?’ You suggest, enjoying the way his eyes light up as he ponders over it. His eyes can do that? You’re incredibly entranced. 

‘You sure your friends would like that?’ He teases, familiar with a few of your friends. Most of them, actually. 

"We can escape through the window,’ You indicate to the slightly open window, big enough to give both you and Minho an easy escape if you shall need it. 

He pretends to think about it, though he doesn’t necessarily need to, he’s sure that this is something that’ll matter to him. He doesn’t know why or how, he just has a feeling. 

‘After you,’ Minho combs his hair back and straightens his clothes, and you have a hard time looking directly at his eyes without letting it drift downwards to the body lines through his shirt. 

You had reached your humble abode only half an hour later, laughing as you held a can of drink with two straws. The two of you only had enough money to pay for one can and both of you were thirsty for its contents. 

You had tried not to get too giddy as his hair had brushed your cheek whenever he took a sip or the way you seemed to fight over who got which coloured straw. 

‘Nice place,’ Minho notes  as he lounges comfortably on your furniture. 

Your mouth gapes open in joking offence, ‘comfortable there, baby?’ 

His eyes gloss over with a challenge in his eyes as he gazes at you, ‘Yes, baby, I am.’ 

It’s silent for a while, comfortably. You’ve turned a movie on, fingers sifting through your favourite movies and opting for Finding Nemo. His gaze relaxes as he watches it, his eyes widening as he gets lost into the ocean world. 

‘Do you want to stay over?’ You offer, not moving from your current position of having your heads together that has you so giddy and so lovestruck, you’re starting to think you’re pathetic. 

Minho grins, ‘Two propositions in one night….how could I refuse?’ 

It’s crazy for him to be so flirtatious with someone like this. How easy it is for him to be with you like this. He finds he especially enjoys your company and though he had made plans to return home after making sure you got to bed alright, he finds he genuinely wants to stay. With you. 

‘I think I’m going to vomit in the morning,’ Is all you admit when he thought you’d return his teasing with your own flirtatious reply. But he’s even more intrigued by the answer you give him. 

‘That’s okay…. I undress before I fall asleep,’ Minho confesses, cursing at the way it comes across as perverted. 

But you only hum, ‘Okay.’ 

‘Is that a usual for you?’ His eyebrows raise, feeling a rumbling in his stomach that he knows he shouldn’t have. 

‘Sometimes.’ 

He’s sure you don’t know how much fire he has in his soul and how much it burns. But you send him a smile, so delicate and shy that the fire dwindles out and is replaced by a night sky. 

So when the movie is over, you lead him by his fingers, not quite interlocked but appearing like a hook, to your bedroom. You thank the gods or whatever high power that exists that you had washed your sheets and shaved your legs tonight. 

You look away as he pulls his pants down, leaving himself in his boxers and taking off his shirt before sliding into the bed, enjoying the way the fabric glides against his skin. He moans at the feeling. 

‘Right?’ You say, clad in your short pink pajama bottoms and tee, also infatuated by your bedding choices. 

You fall asleep with not much else, butterflies have been swarming your whole chest at the fact that you have a hot boy in your bed. One that isn’t Jeongin, Seungmin or Felix. But an actual boy. Someone you want to hold hands with and gift flowers to. 

But the butterflies appear angry as you lean over the side of the bed, emptying your guts into the bucket you had provided for yourself. You’re slumped weakly over the bed, hating yourself for drinking that much…or drinking at all. You hate it. 

You feel movement to the side of you before a gentle hand sweeps away your hair from your face, hooking it behind your ear before your back is being rubbed. You muse at the way it feels and gratitude is so strong it begins to seep through your skin, ‘You’re so nice, Minho.’ 

Minho’s chuckle is laced with sleep but he answers you with that soft tone you’ve become accustomed to within hours, ‘You’re the only one that thinks so.’ 

You pout, but unable to lift your head, your hand reaches for his, only to get a grip on his pointer finger before bringing it to your chest, holding it tight. He shifts closer so he can rub your back with the other hand, and you’re distracted by his naked chest pressed against your back. 

When you’ve stopped vomiting, you look at him, taken aback by the way he’s looking at you all soft. It makes you slightly bashful at the state he’s seen you in, but he doesn’t mind. He couldn’t at all. His eyes are twinkling as he looks at you and if this hadn’t been your first meeting, you’d say he was halfway in love with you. 

‘There’s this waterfall I go to, it’s beautiful. It’s got this water hole. It’s so pretty. I should take you. It’s a real healing waterfall. It helped me a lot with my mental health and…ya know?’ ’ 

You’re not making sense, but your body is currently going into overdrive and neither of you have pulled away. 

He’s looking at you with eyes that tells you he’s going to kiss you or do something that’s going to make you flip out as soon as he goes home. But before he can act on it, your bedroom door slams wide open and your mum comes in a celebratory mood, excited and energetic to surprise you. 

‘MY HONEYBEE- Woah! Hello!’ 

Minho’s eyes widen as he looks at presumably your mother before his own eyes travel to his naked chest on display and his close proximity to you. You wave your hands in denial, back and forth. 

‘No Mum! It’s not what it looks-’ 

But your mother is only grinning ear to ear, her brain waffling with stories to tell the grandchildren and already planning future wedding speeches. Her attention darts to your father who’d have a heart attack if he saw the two of you, and she turns around quickly to distract him, ‘Oh you must top the cupboards with more food, god she must be starving!’ 

She then peeks her head around the corner, trying not to grin maniacally when the boy next to her daughter attempts to hide his chest to her with the duvet. 

‘Mum!’ 

Her cackle is heard across the hallway, setting up the table herself with one extra seat for the boy you’ve brought home. 

When your father returns with some groceries, confused by the presence of a guy in his daughter’s house - your mother only beams and lies, ‘Oh he came around over for lunch, didn’t you? Her boyfriend, yes?’

You eye your mother judgmentally before flickering a look of reassurance to him, in that bashful but endearing look smothered on your face. 

‘Uhh yes.’

Your eyes widen and your face is incredulous as he looks at you with a growing smile.

Minho comes to the simple conclusion as he digs into the store bought but fulfilling lunch in front of him, ignoring the notifications that vibrate his pocket as his ‘Do Not Disturb’ turns automatically off. You were a stranger last night but now you were something to him. The feeling he’s feeling is so powerful, it’s as if he could be a better person. Be someone to you. 

One day though, you will be his girlfriend. Even if that’s the last thing he does and the apocalypse follows soon after.

J U S T  S A Y  I T

you have two boyfriends. one’s fake and the other a secret. one is avoiding love whilst the other is slowly opening himself to it. a story in which one’s cowardice, another’s insecurities and your own volition leads you here, overwhelmed and exhausted, in the middle of two best friends.

chapter fifty : the first piece 

masterlist | prev | next

author’s note : click next <3 pleaaase read it. 

taglist : @soobin-chois @penny-quinn @brit97 @bestleeknowstan @hhjkji @skzgallll @aspenwritesstuff @amara-mars @midsoulz @kflixnet @flvr4ane @01liacore @septicrebel @sheiiy

#k-labels #kflixnet #ficscafe #stray kids fic #stray kids social au #stray kids smau #skz social au #stray kids han jisung #stray kids lee know #han jisung fic #lee know fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids han jisung imagines #stray kids lee know imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids han jisung scenarios #stray kids lee know scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids han jisung fluff #stray kids lee know fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids han jisung angst #stray kids lee know angst #stray kids x reader #stray kids suggestive