## Sneaking Out. — P. Jay

ATLAS & THE WORLD

📄 ◜ ──── 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗮 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀.

ʬʬʬ. 2024 pairing. yang jungwon x (f)oc!member req. mila obsessing over jw shoulders cw. minor suggestive ( LIBRARY )

MILA WAS NOT SOMEONE WHO OFTEN FELT SMALL, but whenever she was in her boyfriends’ arms, the fact that she towered over the female population meant nothing. And she found even those among her boyfriends who were close to her in height still possessed a broadness in their build that perfectly complemented Mila’s frame.

Exhibit A: Yang Jungwon.

When Mila first met the boy, her eyes were instantly drawn to his face — the feline shape of his eyes, the roundness of his cheeks, and the way his irises resembled boba in the way they reflected the light ever so cutely. But soon enough, Mila starting noticing that a lot of things about Jungwon were not cute in the slightest. His shoulders were the most prominent example of such. They were broad as the ocean, and when Mila found herself enveloped in his arms, it felt like she was being drowned in his presence.

Mila found herself tracing those shoulders for the nth time, measuring the span of them with her palms in the same way she used to measure the distance between countries on a globe when she was younger. Jungwon watched her with hooded eyes, hands resting on her lower back as she sat on his lap, his back against the headboard and their foreheads resting against each other.

“One…” Mila stretched her hand across Jungwon’s left shoulder. Marking the spot where her middle finger rested on his collarbone, she shifted her palms so that it measure beginning from the marked spot. “Two…”

Mila repeated the measurement again, whispering lowly as she counted. Jungwon breathed in deeply at the feeling of her soft hands searching his bare skin while his shirt left discarded beneath hers, right next to her bed. His chest was flush against hers, their hearts beating in sync with one another. A testament to the way they existed as one.

Mila smiled as Jungwon closed his eyes, releasing a sigh of contentment when she leaned down to place soft kisses across the span of his shoulders. “Did I mention how much I love your shoulders?” Mila whispered, a smile on her lips.

Jungwon chuckled. “A few times.”

Mila thought that Jungwon’s proportions defied all logic and physics. He had a waist that girls would kill for and shoulders that overshadowed even his hyungs. She would be lying if she didn’t find herself shamelessly eyeing the silhouette of his frame when he wasn’t looking, remembering all the times she would grip onto them as he held her up by the thighs, her legs wrapped around his waist; the times when he would hover over her as she lay beneath him, his shoulders hiding her from the eyes of the world.

But there was more to it than just that, Mila thought as she let her hands glide across the length of his shoulders.

He was a leader of a group of nine, despite being one of the youngest members — and goodness knew how heavy the weight of the burden was. These shoulders of his carried the weight of a responsibility that most people his age could never imagine. These were the shoulders that her head had rested on the nights when her head felt too heavy to keep up on her own; the shoulders that had supported her in times of weakness.

Mila softly kneaded his shoulders, thumbs rolling out the knots in his muscle from the long day of practice. Jungwon hummed in pleasure at the feeling of her hands massaging him, the tension from today leaving his body. “That feels nice…”

Mila smiled. “Good.” She placed a kiss on his cheek as his breathing slowed, the spell of sleep starting to take its effect. “You should get some rest, baby. You’ve had a long day.”

Jungwon mumbled incoherently, his face burying itself in her shoulder, letting her carry him for once. Because unlike Atlas, who carried the world on his shoulders, Jungwon wasn’t alone — and Mila would make sure it stayed that way.

TAGLIST @em1ejiee @menichoi @dracoslovergirl @rosas-in-the-garden @blossominghunnie @lovelypham

five minutes | l.m.h

pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader tags... established relationship, disgustingly fluffy, excessive references to soondoongdori, minho is a cat personified, soft mimo!

operation put your boyfriend to sleep in five minutes is a go.

wc... 1.4k words a/n... ah, yet another domestic fluff fic featuring softy minho. a star specialty! sorry guys this is kinda my fav thing to write ever r u sick of me 😁 anywayz this was inspired by this soft thought and this tiktok like i saw it and immediately thought : lee minho.

ALSO ALSO! HUGE THANK YOU FOR 1K FOLLOWERS! i never would've thought i'd reach this milestone and words couldnt express how incredibly grateful i am for each and every one of you who read and enjoy my works <3 i love you guys thank you so much!

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Minho turned the doorknob and pushed the front door open, greeting Soonie who stood by the entrance with a tilted head. Shutting the door, he hung his bag on the coat rack and bent down to pet his beloved cat’s chin.

“Hi, baby,” the cat nuzzled his head into Minho’s palm and circled around his arm, “where are your brothers, hm?”

Meow… Soonie walked off to the living room as if to answer Minho’s question. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he followed his cat toward the faint nose of your favorite series playing on the TV.

When he entered the room, Minho saw your figure strewn lazily across the couch. Dori was cuddled up against your chest and Soonie hopped up to join Doongie by your feet. His heart warmed at the sight of his loves all huddled together.

“Honey, I’m home,” Minho grabbed your attention with his gentle, sing-song tone, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

You switched your attention from the screen in front of you to the man standing in the doorway, returning his smile and giving a small wave. “Hi, my love. How was your day?”

Minho padded over to you, scooped Dori up against his chest, and settled himself where the cat had previously taken solace in your arms.

“It was alright,” he said, scooching backward to press his back firm against your front. “Tiring, as usual, but it's fine.”

Though he couldn't see it, you nodded in acknowledgment and pressed a soft kiss to his head. You brought one hand up behind his ear to scratch at his scalp, something you had found he enjoyed.

“Do you want to go to bed already? It is pretty late.” From its place above the TV, the clock read 10:37 PM. “Maybe we should move our little cuddle session to the bedroom.”

Minho sighed and shook his head. “But, I'm already so comfy here. Plus, you wouldn't dare disturb the cats, would you?”

“Please, remember the last time we slept on the couch the whole night? I don’t think we want that happening again.”

“Y/n,” Minho called your name, dragging out the last syllable. “My back hurts so much! Remind me why we stayed on the couch again.”

“I told you we should have moved to the bed! But you wouldn’t listen to me,” you snickered at your boyfriend from the kitchen while you continued to whisk a couple of eggs for your breakfast.

You set the bowl down on the counter and walked over to Minho who was still lying on the couch. When you came into his sight, he made a show of stretching his arms and legs, akin to a cat, accompanied by a few exaggerated groans.

“I don’t think I can get up at all today. I should just call in sick,” Minho draped an arm over his face, letting the other fall limp over the edge of the cushion.

“Don’t you have an important meeting today? I doubt your boss would appreciate you missing that on account of an 'ouchy' back.”

“Well, maybe if you gave me more cuddles, I’d feel a bit better.” Minho peeked at you from under his arm, proposing this cute, yet slightly impractical, solution. “Unless you want me to miss work and stay at home with you today.”

“Alright, you big baby.” Rolling your eyes, you moved to straddle Minho’s lap, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Now chest to chest, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting the other one snake up his neck to play with the hairs at his nape.

The time you spent wrapped in each other’s warmth turned from seconds to minutes, the comfortable silence lulling you back to sleep. Minutes turned to hours, leaving Minho’s meeting unattended and the scrambled eggs forgotten on the kitchen counter.

“Ugh, at least give me five more minutes,” Minho offered as he continued to stroke Dori’s back, drawing a vibrating purr from the cat. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”

“Oh, come on, you have to brush your teeth anyways. Now get your lazy bum off the couch so we can cuddle on the bed.” You grabbed the throw pillow from behind your back and swung it at Minho’s side, accidentally startling Dori in the process. The cat jumped out of the man’s arms, causing him to throw a frown over his shoulder.

“Now look what you did! You’re scaring our babies.” Finally, Minho stood up, offering you his hand to pull you up as well. You met his hand with your own and anchored yourself up, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Oops.” You shrugged and skipped off to the bedroom, leaving your boyfriend with your three cats in the living room.

“Unbelievable.” Minho took a few steps towards the bathroom, paused, and turned back to look at his cats. “Well, are you coming with me or not?”

While your boyfriend finished his night routine, you lay on your shared bed and grinned to yourself. Operation Put Your Boyfriend to Sleep in Five Minutes was a go. You knew Minho was tired, and you wanted to send him off into a good night’s sleep in the most loving way you could.

The hallway light switched off as Minho opened the door to your bedroom, sporting a playful frown. It was time for Step One: Put him in a blanket.

“Come here, baby,” you peeled the duvet back and patted the space on the bed right next to you, beckoning your pouty boyfriend over to you. “Let’s get you to sleep, yeah?”

Trudging over to his side of the bed, Minho slid onto the mattress and pulled the heavy duvet over his body. Freshly washed, the warm, lavender-scented blanket immediately soothed his senses.

“You could’ve at least stayed with me while I brushed my teeth,” Minho continued to pout as he turned on his side to face you, “and, I don’t know, given me a back hug or something.”

Though his tone was playful, you recognized the look in Minho’s gaze. He yearned for your comfort, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. Reaching over, you cupped his face, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb. You peppered a few pecks on the corners of his mouth, kissing his pout away. Perfect timing for Step Two: Give reassuring pets.

“I’m here now, it’s okay.” His hair was soft in between your fingers as you threaded them through the fluffy locks. They smelled faintly of his coconut shampoo.

Tired, Minho let out a yawn, nose scrunched and eyelids shut. He leaned into your touch, humming contently.

Faintly, the door creaked open and you could hear light thuds on the carpeted floor, followed by a slightly louder thud on the bed as Doongie entered the bedroom and jumped up to join you. He stepped all over Minho’s body—drawing out a quiet yelp from the man beside you. You giggled as Doongie finally plopped down on Minho’s pillow, snuggling against the top of his head. This brought you to Step Three: Tuck him in.

With your boyfriend lying under the covers, you hooked one leg over him, moving your hand on his head to tuck it into your neck, cradling his body with no intent to stop any time soon.

For a second, the universe felt still. It was as though the ever-rotating hands on the clock had stopped moving, pausing to witness this intimate moment between you and Minho; as if even the angels in the skies above didn’t want this sweet gesture to end.

That was until Minho decided to take matters into his own hands and execute Step Four: Put one arm out for temperature regulation.

“It's too warm!” Minho whined into your neck, breaking the silence, and removed one arm from under the blanket, exposing it to the cold air. “Ah, that's better.”

He turned on his side and wrapped his now free arm around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, if that were even physically possible.

Seeing your bodies pressed flush against each other, Soonie—who was previously lounging at the foot of the bed—crawled up the sheets and nuzzled into the barely-there gap between you and Minho, with Dori following suit.

Within five minutes of lying down, the night ended with your small family cuddled together on the warm, cozy bed, basking in each other’s comfort.

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taglist: @kflixnet @jinnixxn @elllisaaa @captainchrisstan @laylasbunbunny @starsandrqindrops @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @forlix @mires-empire @quesweebs

comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023

11: 03 PM | pjs

pairing: jay x female reader

word count: 1,234

warnings: angst, explicit language, arguing, saying i hate you, not much talking, more explanation about feelings, we are sad people, but jay is a good boyfriend, cuddling, spooning, fluff at the end

“I HATE YOU!”

Jay stares at you in shock and your eyes widen too, stunned by what you just blurted out. You and your boyfriend have gotten into heated arguments before, but never did you two ever go this far for you to yell those three disheartening words at him.

How did the argument start? Well, you were both hanging out at a friend’s gathering for some drinks. According to Jay’s eyes, a guy was flirting with you that witnessed the scene. However, you argued in return that the man wasn’t trying anything and was being friendly. 

Jay’s thoughts said otherwise, arguing his main point about his view. You then explain to him that maybe he’s finally seeing it from your view when other women flirt with him. In frustration, Jay sighs aloud that you’re turning it around and making it about him. But you aren’t. He wanted to talk about his view, so you had every right to bring up yours too. Jay didn’t bother to listen, both of your voices just raising higher over one another and you screamed out the deadly three words.

Your boyfriend closes his mouth and disappointment spread across his face. You didn’t mean to voice your inner thoughts out loud, it just happened when he wasn’t trying to listen to you. Without another peep, Jay breaks eye contact and enters the bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room. He grabs his clothes and heads inside the bathroom to shower, and you finally feel your legs work.

Entering inside the bedroom, you sit down on the corner of your bed with a million things running in your head. What have you done? What the fuck did you just do? You didn’t mean to say it. You don’t even mean it! You were angry and the argument was going nowhere and you just wanted to walk away but… But you didn’t. And now, you face the consequences.

You messed up. You fucked up big time.

Once Jay was out of the bathroom, he sat outside in the living room without returning to the bedroom. You took this chance and enters the bathroom to shower. You needed a cool down just as much as he did. 

The moment the water hits your skin, tears start pouring out of your eyes. You began to son silence, pissed off at yourself for what you just did. Sitting down on the floor of your shower, you hugged your knees and cried. Jay’s silence and the disappointment on his face say a thousand words, and you hate yourself for hurting him. For hurting you two over those three fucked up words.

Once your long shower was done, you saw that Jay had left the living room couch and is sleeping on your shared bed. Nervously, you clench your fists and enter the dark room. You wanted to say something, anything, but not a sound would come out. Afraid that you’ll just disappoint Jay more, you grab your pillow quietly and exited the bedroom.

Laying on the couch, you pull at the mini blanket for decoration over your cold shoulder. Tears start falling again as you cry into your pillow, but you made sure the sobbing was quiet. You didn’t want to wake up Jay. 

Nonetheless, you feel your boyfriend’s warm embrace cuddling from behind you, him spooning you immediately. You cover your face and try not to turn around to face him, but Jay turns you around to face him. Placing his left arm under your neck so he could hold you, he pecks your forehead.

Jay doesn’t say anything. Instead, he rubs circles on your back and lets you cry it out. Before you know it, the two of you fall into a deep slumber afterward.

—

When morning came, you were woken up by the smell of food. Due to your mood from last night, you didn’t feel hungry. Sadness still washed over your face and you feel sick from the constant crying yesterday. Laying on the couch with a frown, you prayed for a way to take back those three stupid words you said to Jay.

“Morning, sunshine,” Jay greets you, his voice soft and caring. 

“Morning,” you croak weakly, failing to give your man a loving smile.

Jay kneels down to your level and brushes your hair back, tucking a few strands behind your ear. “Shall we eat breakfast?”

Shaking your head, you answer no.

“What? The foodie queen doesn’t wish to eat? But I made a lot of delicious food!” You chuckle at the nickname he gives you, but you frown again quickly. Why is he making you laugh here? Why is he the one cheering you up? Why is he forgiving you already when you haven’t forgiven yourself? 

The feeling of your tears begins forming and you turn to lay on your back as you stare up at the ceiling. You were fighting the urge this morning to not cry, but Jay quickly lays on the couch and hugs you.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle out. “I’m so sorry for last night.”

“Shh, baby. It’s okay,” Jay tries shushing you, but you just kept mumbling sorries as tears gush out of you. “Babe, it’s really okay.”

Jay plants a long and loving kiss on your forehead, and hugs you tight in his arms again. “It was a stupid fight anyway.”

“Yeah, and look at what it did. I said the three bad words I know aren’t true. I don’t deserve you at all!” You cry louder, burying your face into his shirt. 

“Actually, nobody deserves me at all and you are just lucky,” Jay dare jokes, and you slap his biceps, laughing a little.

Your boyfriend pulls your face upwards and he pecks your lips. “I’m sorry too, love. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. If anything, I should have listened as well.”

You caress his cheek as he tells you about his silent thoughts last night. After Jay took a shower to calm his nerves down, he started to process your words and that’s when it hit him. All he had to do was just listen to your side of the story, but Jay wouldn’t back down from the argument and it escalated to something more. 

“When I heard you leave the bedroom with the sound of your pillow leaving the bed, I was confused. I thought maybe you needed to calm down too. However, you started crying and my heart sank,” Jay finishes explaining. “The guilt inside ate me up and I knew that whatever we did or said is going to put a strain on us, but I don’t want that. I want to fix us because I love you.”

Your heart flutters at his sweet words and you move up to kiss him on the lips. “I love you too, Jay,” you whisper in return, your breath ghosting his lips. “Can we not argue anymore and just talk it out before things get heated over nothing?”

Your boyfriend nods at your request and you finally smile in relief. Jay smiles too and kisses you again. 

“Now that we’re done being depressing, can we have breakfast? I’m hungry,” Jay whines and you hear his tummy grumble.

“Jay~” You whine in return. “Just hold me five more minutes.”

He chuckles and gives in, hugging you in his arms as you two lazily lay on the couch.

⪩.⪨ — KITTY LOVE! ҂ lee minho oneshot

SYNOPSIS! there's this craze about puppy love that everyone seems to enjoy. however, you find that you don't quite get what the fuss is all about. you are way more interested in your cat-like neighbour who seems cold and kind of annoying. the boy who acts like everyone's existence burdens him to no end but quietly takes care of the elderly lady on your block, helps children back to their feet when they fall, and holds the elevator door so it doesn't close on you.

PAIRING! lee minho x fem!reader

GENRES! boy next door au, strangers to (very brief and one-sided) enemies to lovers, fluff, some angst, minho is a tease but he can get away with it bc he's cute.

WARNINGS! swearing, brief mentions of reader being a bit insecure about dating, suggestive themes but no smut, minho turns eggs into an innuendo, i think i got the gender of minho's cats right??? but i could be wrong, so sry about that if that's the case fkfjskshsj. please do tell me if i missed any!

WORD COUNT! 11k

A.N! if you see me reposting this bc it didn't show up in the tags when i first posted it and as the attention whore that i am i can't have that no you didn't :_) as always, english is not my first language so i apologise if there are any mistakes! i hope you enjoy it!

“and when are you going to get a boyfriend, dear?”

you sigh in an attempt to keep your cool and not lash out to your mom. you know she means good; she always does, especially when it comes to you. but it's like older relatives never know how tiring this whole “you should get a boyfriend” conversation is. why do you need a boyfriend anyway? sure, you've had a fair share of crushes growing up, but they were never serious enough for you to want to do anything about them. and it has been enough for you, it just has. what's so difficult to understand about a person being completely okay with being single?

“i've already told you, mom. whenever it happens, it happens. and until then i'm not going to force myself to find someone.”

“i know, i know.” you hear your mom sigh at the other end of the line. she clearly doesn't agree with your position on this, but she always respects your decisions. you are glad for that. “it's just that i feel like you won't be able to meet anyone in that new place of yours.” you know exactly what she means by that.

it's been a month since you moved to your current apartment. your previous one was a shabby, tiny thing that was overpriced with the excuse of it being placed right on the city centre. your new place, on the other hand, is on the outskirts of the city, but it's much more spacious, and it's not falling apart by the moment. you don't mind putting up with long bus rides to get to your workplace. in fact, you enjoy the peace and quiet, the time it gives you to organise your thoughts on your way to work or wherever you may be going. and there's a supermarket relatively near your place, so you can't complain about that. it's safe to say that you're a lot happier with your new home, but your mom just can't see that. she's too busy thinking about when you're going to bring a son-in-law for her and your dad to meet or when you're going to give them grandchildren, even if you consider yourself far too young to even be considering marriage or children. that's why she liked your old place. it was near all the popular clubs and bars, giving you the perfect chance to mingle; a chance you never took in all the time you lived there.

you think something's not right. like, you know something is definitely wrong in your life when your mom is hinting at you that you should spend more time partying at questionable places in order to get laid.

and you wish this was a “your mom” thing, but your friends have similar opinions to hers. sure, they don't want to rush you into marriage and children at every chance they have, but they have told you several times that a relationship would probably add happiness to your life. that it's strange how they've never seen you head over heels for anyone ever since they've known you.

your feet softly thud against the wooden flooring of your living room as you walk to your window, feeling like you need the pretty view to calm yourself enough to get through this call. as you move the curtain to get a better view of the park that's a couple of blocks away, you catch sight of your neighbour walking along the street, heading to your block, presumably getting back home from somewhere. you recognise him from a time you were just getting to your place and he suddenly came out of his, rushing down the stairs.

suddenly, a child appears running down the street and trips right beside him. you see him help the little boy back to his feet, dust off the dirt from his knees and ruffle his hair with a smile before resuming his walk back home. you smile.

you blame your mom and your friends when what you've just seen makes you say:

“i don't know mom, love happens at unexpected times and places.” that's unlike you, you aren't that much of a romantic. you know that much, and you know that your mom knows that much, so you don't give her a chance to say anything. “look, i have to get some work done, but i'll call you again tomorrow. love, you, mom! bye!” and you hang up on her.

love? sure, your neighbour is cute, and he seems pretty nice, but you don't even know the guy's name. you don't even know why you mentioned love in the first place.

famous last words.

a few days later, you're on cleaning duty around your apartment. you've got some dusting and sweeping and mopping to do, as well as some windows to clean. some meaning all. not to mention the good scrubbing that the tub needs. well, “needs” is a bit of a strong word; you could probably go for a few days more without doing anything, but you're a bit of a clean freak, so your place has to be spotless all the time for you to be happy. which means that you're properly attired to get this shit done with the most worn-out pyjamas that you own, some crappy flip flops and an unidentifiable hairstyle that does the job of keeping your hair out of your face but probably makes you look like birds live on top of your head. and cleaning day means something else.

you have music blasting through your whole house.

you think it's a good thing that your neighbours haven't told you off so far; you assume they don't mind the occasional loud music from you, or they would have done so in the month that you've already been living here. they haven't complained about you singing at the top of your lungs either, so either they're cool about it, or they meet each week to plan your murder. whatever the case, you're here for a good time, not a long time, so you will take the chance of giving a mini concert for yourself while you clean while you can.

except, the “for yourself” part doesn't actually exist. it's just an illusion created by your senses, a scam, a fallacy. you just don't know it yet.

you're currently standing on top of a chair in the tiny balcony of your living room, and to any outsider it might look like you have a death wish against the poor glass doors with how furiously you're wiping them.

your next door neighbour, lee minho, certainly thinks it must look like that to anyone who isn't within hearing range as he is. he himself would have thought so too if it weren't for the way you're cheerfully singing along 22 by taylor swift. minho's house is structured the exact same way as yours, and his living room has a tiny balcony of its own, which is where he's watching you from with a mug of coffee in his hand and an amused grin adorning his features. you're so entranced with your current task at hand, the song you're singing to or both that you don't even notice the boy in the balcony next to yours. he doesn't want to be a creep though, he just decided to stand there a moment longer because you two haven't actually crossed paths yet and he knows you've been living in the block for a while, so he was curious about you.

and he sure is pleased with how... interesting of a neighbour you seem to be. so he just lets his gaze linger for a moment longer and goes back inside to save him the accusation of being a stalker and you the embarrassment of knowing someone is hearing you when this clearly looks like a one person activity.

the image of you stays with minho for a good part of the day, and each time he remembers a smile threatens to take over his face.

however, another week goes by before you actually see each other.

you're going back to your place in the unbearable heat of mid-july and carrying three very heavy bags with your groceries. you consider getting your groceries delivered to your place next time, and then you feel guilty for whoever you'd be putting through this hell for a shitty salary. you give up on having groceries without suffering the heat, but right now you have more pressing matters at hands. you still have a few minutes to your house and you don't trust your abilities to get there without melting into a puddle on your way. if it's any indication, your underboob is already sweating. you hate it here.

by some divine working, you get to your block in one piece, and the sound of relief you let out when you get through the main door is ungodly. you think this hell of a ride is over until you catch sight of the elevator.

oh hell no.

cute neighbour guy is inside idly looking at his phone and the doors are starting to close. now, you don't have much to complain about your flat or your block in general. but the elevator, the damn elevator, is slower than a university's administration office when you desperately need a reply from them. which means you'll be stuck out of your home for longer if you don't get on that damn thing within the next few seconds. and like, you know this isn't a big deal. you know. how much longer can you possibly have to wait to get home if you don't make it to the elevator? 5 to 10 minutes at most? that's not long.

you know.

and yet you're at a point in this adventure that going grocery shopping in july is where every minor inconvenience will either infuriate you or reduce you to tears without a good reason. you guess that's what spending the morning doing your least favourite activity in your least favourite conditions does to you.

your neighbour must hear the rustling of your bags because he lifts his head from the screen of his phone and the two of you make eye contact for a second. oh he sure is handsome. you're about to get swayed by his pretty eyes, his fluffy dark hair, the perfect curve of his nose, his perfect-looking face in general. and for the love of beyoncé, this man has some pretty thick thighs. his overall proportions just seem godly, and you're looking at him from a distance. you're about to make heart eyes at this fine-looking man when-

wait.

did he just roll his eyes at you?

you blink and huff in a sort of angry confusion, and next thing you know, he's sticking his hand between the elevator doors, keeping them from closing. as they open again, he calls out to you.

“oi, neighbour! you getting in or what?” you blink again.

are you tired enough to get irritated by everything or is he being low-key rude at you right now? dude just held an elevator door for you and yes, you're grateful that he's saved you a longer wait, but why is he acting like he unwillingly donated one of his kidneys to his worst enemy?

“yeah?” you answer, but it sounds more like a question. you move towards the elevator again, struggling with the damn bags. “yeah, i am.” you repeat, firmer this time. “thanks for that.” he just nods at you in acknowledgement.

“third floor, right?” he asks. you say yes, slightly surprised that he seems to know you live right next door to him. but then again, you knew before talking to him too.

hold on. oh fuck.

is he being rude to you because he's pissed at you playing loud music and singing? are the weekly meetings to plan your murder a thing after all? oh shit. that would actually make sense. do you apologise? or would that be weird? you haven't even introduced yourselves, it would definitely be weird. you take a deep breath. okay, okay. you got this. let's do this step by step.

“my name is y/n. we're actually next door neighbours.” you give him a polite smile.

he snorts. he has the audacity to snort at you.

“i know.” you think that's going to be it, but at least he has the decency to introduce himself as well. “i'm minho.” he offers his hand for you to shake as if you weren't holding three giant bags, and by the teasing glint in his eyes you know that it's not an innocent mistake. “right.” he smirks, looking down to your bags and back to your face as if to let you know that yes, he in fact did that on purpose, and then the elevator reaches your floor.

you can't believe you ever thought this guy was nice. in your defense, you think most people would have been fooled with the way he treated that kid that time you caught a glimpse of him through your window. but you’re still pissed to learn this. why does he have to be this hot if he's going to be an asshole?

you make up your mind to just go on with your day, get into your house, forget that this ever happened and avoid having to talk to this guy for longer. the bags on your hands suddenly feel lighter when you practically jump off the elevator and sprint to your door.

apparently, this minho guy has other plans.

“i'll see you around, neighbour.” he calls behind your back. you know he's still smirking even before you turn to look at him working his front door open. “nice singing, by the way.” he raises an eyebrow at you before he gets in and closes the door behind him.

you actually drop your bags at that. you knew there was a good chance he'd been able to hear you all this time, and in every other situation it wouldn't have phased you. but when it seems like he's mocking you after how rude he's managed to be to you in the span of a couple of minutes? now you're both flustered and pissed.

“oh shit.” you scramble to get your bags again, suddenly remembering that you've bought a dozen of eggs. if even a single one of them has cracked because of this guy...

turns out only one egg survived, as you'd soon discovered with a quick glance at your bag and upon closer inspection later after you got inside your house. but you're convinced that it was minho's fault. and so, you're set on holding him accountable for it.

so you are ringing his doorbell next day.

“hey, neighbour.” an unsuspecting lee minho directs an amused grin at you when he answers the door and what he finds is you. he notices how your arms are crossed and how you're sporting a frown that makes you look, in his humble opinion, more adorable than intimidating.

he has no idea what this is about, but he's here for it.

“hi, minho.” your tone is flatter than a table when you greet him. “i need some eggs.”

he blinks at you once, twice, and for a moment you think it's endearing how he looks like a confused cat. nope, nope, you need to stop right there. we must stay focused, brothers.

“you need eggs.” he repeats after you.

“yes. you startled me when you got into your house yesterday and i dropped my bags.” he raises an eyebrow at you like he did yesterday. does he have to look that hot while doing it? you continue through gritted teeth. “i had my groceries there, and the eggs i bought cracked.”

“really?” he tilts his head to the side and blinks exaggeratedly at you. you nod. “my bad, neighbour.” he doesn't sound a bit sorry.

“my name is y/n.” you were bothered before, but now you're getting pissed.

“i know, you told me yesterday.” on his end, minho is having the time of his life. you are so cute trying to stay calm. in your current stance, you're only missing an irritated tapping of one of your feet to look like thumper from bambi. perhaps he can push you enough to get you to do that, he bets you'd look adorable. ah, he must be losing his mind.

“you keep calling me neighbour.” you point out. minho gives you a very sweet, very charming smile, and you mentally curse at how it actually kind of works.

so much for staying focused.

“aren't we neighbours though?” you sigh.

“whatever. do you have eggs?”

“the question isn't whether i can give you my eggs or not, the question is: are we at that point of our relationship already? we might be going too fast here, neighbour.” he teases. is he making an innuendo out of eggs now?

you take a deep breath.

“look-” you start, but he cuts you off.

“wait, i'll be right back.” he saunters inside his house leaving there, dumbfounded. can this guy get any more irritating?

you're still standing there, probably looking like you're trying to catch flies with your mouth when you hear a soft meow below you, and you find a cat stretching right by your feet. so your annoying neighbour is a hot guy with a cat. why did the universe put the man of your dreams right next door only to make him an asshole? still, you waste no time in getting down and presenting your hand to the kitty.

“oh hi, baby. when did you get here?” you softly call, and when it not only gets closer to you but nuzzles its face against your palm as well, you gasp in delighted awe.

“dori likes you already, huh?” you look up to find minho smiling at you, and this time it's more of a fond smile than a shit-eating grin. the cat goes back to its owner and nuzzles against his legs this time, and you get back to your feet. “here.”

minho shoves two cartons of eggs into your arms. two whole cartons, which is twice what you bought yesterday. he might have gotten on your nerves the couple of times that you've talked to him, but you came here intending to go back with maybe a couple of eggs out of pettiness more than anything, so it feels wrong to take this much from him.

“wait, minho, this is too much. it's more than-” he cuts you off again with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“take them. it was my fault and i bought too many anyway. or is that more eggs than you can take, neighbour?”

well, bye-bye cute, smiley, kind of not that annoying-looking minho, welcome back shit-eating grin, irritating asshole.

“thanks, minho.” as he goes back to annoying, your tone goes back to flat.

“don't mention it. let me know what you think about my eggs next time, neighbour.” he wiggles his eyebrows at you, and with that, closes his door on your face.

you feel your blood boiling as you go back to your house.

unbeknownst to you, minho saw what happened yesterday in the split second he caught sight of you dropping your bags as he was closing his door and actually felt guilty about it, so he bought the eggs to bring them to you later on that day.

he's glad you've come to him before he had the chance to do so, though. it's been way more fun like this.

the next time you see minho, you find him helping an elderly lady go down the stairs to your floor.

you're locking your door behind you, ready to go hang out at one of your friend's place, when you hear his voice behind you.

“aish, we've talked about this, mrs park. you need to take the elevator.”

you turn around and sure enough, this lady you assume to be one of your neighbours from one of the upper floors is gripping minho's arm with one of her hands and holding a cane with the other as they descend the stairs. with much difficulty on her end, you note.

“don't lecture me, young man.” this mrs park lady spits at him. minho straightens his posture next to her.

“yes, ma'am.” you like this woman already. there's this feeling of satisfaction in seeing minho getting told off that has you quietly snickering.

the sound must reach his ears as his gaze automatically travels to where you're standing. you think he's going to be embarrassed that you just witnessed someone else having the upper hand in a conversation, but he just gives you a lopsided grin.

“hey, neighbour.” you don't bother hiding how you roll your eyes into the next world.

before you can say anything, mrs park speaks up.

“and who is this young lady, min-min?” your eyebrows shoot up at that, and you don't miss the way minho's ears turn red at the nickname. oh, so this is what makes him shy. you take note of it. “did you finally get a girlfriend?”

well, now you are the one feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. you fear minho is, in fact, very capable of telling her that you are actually his girlfriend just to get a reaction out of you, so you walk towards the two of them before he can answer.

“my name's y/n. mrs park, right?” she smiles at you while nodding and she looks like the cutest grandma while doing so. you've been around this lady for a few minutes at most and you'd already do anything for her. maybe it has to do with her scolding minho, you think.

“that's right, dear.”

“i actually moved next to minho a couple of months ago.” you explain, mirroring her smile. you're about to shake her hand, but you notice that it might not be the most comfortable thing for her in her current predicament. “you know what? let me help you get the rest of the way down too.” you tell her, and you offer one of your arms for her to hold like she's doing with minho's, as well as a hand to hold her cane for her. she gladly takes you up on your offer.

“oh, aren't i lucky to have such kind kids as neighbours? thank you, deary. i'll bring you cookies next time. after all, i couldn't properly welcome you when you moved because i didn't know you had.” yep, you would most definitely risk it all for this woman.

“don't even worry about it, mrs park! it's not your fault, and i wouldn't want to inconvenience you.” you tell her as the three of you make your way down the stairs. she doesn't have that many steps left, but her pace is slow, and she hisses in pain with each one she goes down. you understand why minho was ushering her to take the elevator.

“nonsense, dear. it's no inconvenience, i'll get you those cookies soon.” she insists. you'd feel bad if you refuse her too much, so you accept.

“well, in that case, thank you so much. i'm sure they'll be delicious.”

“do i get cookies too, mrs park? yours are the best.” minho butts in, and you catch yourself finding him cute again in the way his eyes sparkle with hopeful joy at the notion of the homemade pastries.

“you know i can't say no to you, min-min, but learn some manners from this young lady.” she tells minho, but both of you can tell she's joking. you assumed as much already, but they must be close with each other.

“yes!” he pumps a fist in the air in victory. “thank you, mrs park.” he smiles the prettiest smile you've ever seen at her as the three of you get down the last step and you think for a moment that you want him to smile at you like that too.

“let me get the elevator for you, mrs park.” you let go of her and give her cane back, already moving to call the elevator. “i know it's slow, and i'd love to help you all the way down, but i think it might be more comfortable for you like this.”

“she's right, mrs park. we can't have you tripping down the stairs again.” minho intervenes.

“again?!” you ask, horrified. you are not letting this woman walk down a single step more, not on your watch.

“that's right, mrs park here tripped down the stairs last year and fractured her hipbone. she gave the whole block quite a scare.”

“oh my god.”

“you make it sound so dramatic. besides, i'm completely recovered now.” mrs park complains, but as much as minho annoys you, you agree with him on this one.

“mrs park, i get what you mean, but minho is looking out for you. there's no harm in using the elevator, right?”

mrs park looks back and forth between minho and you a couple of times and both of you smile the most innocent smiles you can manage at her. she sighs in defeat.

“okay, okay. i'll take the damn thing.” the elevator doors open right then. “now you children get back to whatever you were doing, i've already taken more than enough of your time.” she waves at the two of you as she steps into the elevator.

“will do! it was nice meeting you, mrs park!” you wave back at her with a smile, and so does minho.

“see you, mrs park. i'm looking forward to those cookies.” the elevator doors close, and you're left alone with minho.

“well, that leaves just the two of us, neighbour.” the corners of his mouth tug upwards, and you already fear what he's about to say next. “but pray tell, wouldn't it have been easier for you to get in the elevator with mrs park?” your eyes widen and your jaw goes slack. you can’t believe this man.

“couldn't you have said so before the doors closed?” you ask incredulously, and then you realise “wait, but you didn't get in either, you missed it too.” one of his hands flies to the nape of his neck and he lightly scratches it. 

“ah, i actually didn't. i only came out because i heard mrs park and i couldn't let her walk those steps alone.” his smile gets wider, and he shrugs his shoulders. “sorry to disappoint, but you're on your own on this one.”

“i-” this time, it's actually a good thing he cuts you off, because you have no idea what to say, caught between trying to process how surprisingly sweet of minho is to take care of mrs park like that and how exasperated you feel at him right now.

“i'll see you around, neighbour.”

“and is this neighbour of yours handsome, dear?”

you don't know why you even bother at this point.

“mom, for the love of god!” you settle for the softer option of the words that were about to come out of your mouth. “i've barely seen the guy twice and you're already throwing me into his arms.” you exasperatedly munch on one of mrs park's cookies, the sweet treat is very much needed to get you through this phone call. minho was right though; her cookies are the best you've ever had.

“do you want to be thrown into his arms?” she throws at you, and you sputter. what has gotten into your mom?

“this is pointless, i'm hanging up.” you deadpan. your mom laughs at the other end of the line.

“aw, come on. i'm just joking, sweetie. but would it kill you to try to look at him in that light? or anyone for that matter?” see, this is what your mom doesn't know.

the fucking thing is, you see him in that light.

you don't know why your mom is so set in getting you to consider if minho is handsome or not, but the fact is that you very well know he is. you've seen him just a couple of times, but you're too well aware of how attractive your neighbour is. he has it all too: cute, hot, sexy, endearing, you name it. you aren't that sure about his personality because you don't get just why he has to tease you each time he sees you nor do you enjoy being mocked each time he opens his mouth, but he definitely has the looks. you'd be either too blind or too ignorant to even try to deny it.

“mom, i don't think i'd even say we're friends. just because he looks around my age doesn't make it any weirder than if you were trying to set me up with a man old enough to be dad.” you hear some rustling on the other end and then your father is speaking to you. your mom always puts everyone on speaker, so this is no surprise.

“i've been summoned. what's up, petal?”

“dad, tell mom to stop trying to set me up with my neighbour.” you take another bite of your cookie, chewing quickly to continue speaking. “tell her to stop trying to set me up with anyone for that matter.” your dad makes no effort to do such thing.

“your neighbour? what neighbour? who is this young man trying to seduce my baby?”

“dad, you're missing the whole point. no one is being seduce-”

“if you're seeing someone, you better bring him home for me to meet him, young lady.” you silently face-palm.

by the end of the call, both your parents are somehow convinced that you like minho, that he likes you or that you're dating him, you're not sure which one. perhaps all three. well, it's not like you care. no matter how good-looking you think he is you can't picture yourself dating minho, that would be-

wait, why are you imagining what it would be like to date him? you groan. see? this is what talking to your parents does to you.

you take the last bite of the last cookie you have left from the batch that mrs park made for you. you're thinking about how much of a sweet person she seems to be when you're startled by the sound of your doorbell. you make your way to the front door, to find none other than minho on the other side, with his characteristic cocky smile.

“hey, neighbour.”

“uh... hi. can i help you?” you don't know why you find this situation so awkward, but there's something about minho actively looking for you that seems uncharacteristic of him.

“you can, actually. i have a friend over and he's making brownies, but we ran out of sugar.”

“so?” you ask. you have no problem with giving him sugar, but you want to make things a bit difficult for him because he always makes things difficult for you.

“so,” he echoes you. “i was hoping you'd take pity on us and give us some. i think about a cup is all he's missing.”

“mrs park would be disappointed in you, minho.” you feign a disappointed sigh of your own accompanied by a disapproving shake of your head, and when minho looks at you with pure confusion in his eyes you think you're getting good at his little game. “she did tell you to learn some manners, didn't she? and you can't even say please when asking for something.”

minho mutters an “ahh” while nodding his head in understanding before he gets back to the smug smile.

that's not good.

“my dearest, most favourite neighbour.” he dramatically begins, leaning his back to your doorframe and putting a hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint. “would you be oh so gracious with these two fools who didn't properly measure their sugar so as to bestow upon them the immense generosity of sparing some of your own, m'lady?”

at that, he gets down on one knee and delicately takes one of your hands in his own, bringing it to his lips to plant a soft kiss on the back of it without taking his eyes off yours for a single second.

you blink repeatedly.

you stare at minho.

he grins at you from below.

your eyes widen.

you blush.

you yank your hand from his hold as if it burned you to touch him. it somehow feels like that may very well be a possibility.

“h-huh?” you can hear the whistling sound of water boiling in a teapot in your ears if you focus hard enough.

“sugar, neighbour. i asked you if you can please give me some.” he repeats. “your pretty head surely knows what sugar is, right?”

your what now?

at this point, minho is grinning wider than the cheshire cat. he likes annoyed you, but he thinks he prefers flustered you because there's less risk of you actually getting angry at him. and there's the added benefit of seeing you blush, that's cute. so cute, minho finds himself wanting to make you blush more. wanting to kiss the redness on your cheeks. he's definitely losing his mind.

“of course i know what sugar is.” is all you can muster once you're able to somewhat compose yourself. minho finally gets up and dusts his pants off, still smiling at you.

“glad to know, you had me worried for a second there.”

“i'll be right back.” you run away into your house and minho patiently waits at your door.

you want to get this over with as quickly as possible because you don't like not knowing what to do about the frantic pounding of your heart. and most importantly, you can't be bothered to measure one cup, so once you get the sugar, you bring him the whole packet. besides, he did give you too many eggs last time, so it's only fair that you give him extra too.

“here.” in a similar fashion to him, you shove the thing into his chest and he scrambles to take a hold of it. you notice that he is about to protest , so you speak before he does. “you gave me extra eggs last time, so take it. i'll survive without it, i promise.” at that, minho's face lights up again.

“oh, that's right. you never told me what you thought about my eggs, neighbour.” his hand comes up to hold the doorframe as he leans forward, towards you, with that teasing smile of his.

so he's back at it again. however, this time you're set on being the one who gets a reaction out of him. so, not only do you play along whatever this egg innuendo is, but you also try something you've been thinking about for a while now.

you lean forward as well, your faces inches apart. minho doesn't bat an eye at first, and it almost seems like his smile gets even bigger. but that changes once you whisper:

“your eggs were delicious, min-min.” the combination of the nickname, the sultry tone you've used with him, and the way you bite your lip would be bound to end anyone else. but minho is a strong man, so he's just rendered speechless.

this time, it's his eyes getting wide for a change, and they wander to your lips for a split second. even his mouth falls open a little bit. you see the tips of his ears getting red as they did that day when mrs park called him the same nickname and you are pleased with his reaction, guessing that this is the most you can get out of him. mission accomplished, you think to yourself.

and you close the door on his face.

this one goes to you, but the sense of victory is dulled by the fact that all you could think of when getting that close to him was how easy it would be to close the remaining distance and kiss him.

the next morning, you find that a piece of paper has been slid through your front door.

“hey neighbour,

my friend and i ended up making too many brownies, and it's only fair that you get to have some. we couldn't have made them without your stellar support, after all.

swing by whenever you want today and let's have them over a movie :)

- min”

you read and re-read the note. the faces of three cats are doodled right next to his name, and you can't help but feel giddy at the thought that a boy has written you a note inviting you over and has even taken the time to doodle on it. it's the simplest thing, but you find it charming in the most adorable way. guess you are easy to please.

you suddenly freeze in where you're standing.

wait, is this just a friendly hangout between neighbours? or does he want it to be a date? do you want it to be a date? oh god, you want it to be a date. that must make you some sort of masochist, because why else would you voluntarily accept what sounds like an invitation for him to tease you for the whole duration of whatever movie you end up watching? yep, you must be out of your mind. but that doesn't take from the fact you do want this to be a date, so you think it's time to admit that you might have developed a teeny tiny crush on minho.

okay, so you must be into degradation.

that's all you can gather from this newfound piece of information and you guess there's something new to learn every day.

whatever, you don't want to think about this too much. you've had crushes before and they've never gone anywhere, so why would this be any different? thinking about the prospect of liking or dating someone always makes you wonder if the reason you've been single all your life is somehow your fault, and you don't want to get depressive thinking about that.

so you just make up your mind to drop by minho's house in the afternoon and go on with your day until then. you work out, take a shower, have breakfast, do your chores, prepare lunch and laze around until you get hungry enough to have the meal you prepared.

5 pm arrives faster than you expected, and you guess that that's is a decent time to go to minho's house, so you quickly prepare some iced coffee to have with the brownies, change into a comfy outfit and take your keys to exit your house. you kind of walk the short walk from your door to minho's in autopilot, getting suddenly nervous at the prospect of spending that much time alone with him, and you ring his doorbell with a slightly shaky hand.

when minho gets the door, he does a quick once over of your appearance today, which doesn't go unnoticed. he grins that lopsided grin that you've come to like in these few times you've seen each other, and for once, this sight of him makes you smile too. he does his little confused blinking again, but his smile stays, and you swear his voice sounds softer when he greets you with his usual:

“hey, neighbour.”

“hi, i brought coffee.” you lift the bag where you've brought the beverage and minho makes a gesture for you to hand it to him. you try not to think about how warm his hand feels when it brushes against yours. minho ushers you inside with his other hand.

into degradation and touch starved. you keep learning today, it seems.

“come on in.” you follow him inside and try to make the way you're curiously looking around not too obvious. “make sure you close the door behind you, please. wouldn't want the babies to run out.”

“the babies?” you echo his words, making sure that the door is properly closed behind you as he has requested.

“that's right.” you continue following him like a lost puppy until you reach his kitchen. “this is cold, right?” he asks, patting the bag.

you nod at him, and he gets the two cups inside the bag to transfer them to his fridge.

“all set.” he smiles again. “come meet my babies.” you follow him to the living room and he asks you to stay there as he walks along a long corridor that you're guessing leads to the rooms and the bathrooms as it does in your place. you hear the sound of a door being opened and the soft padding of paws against the floor, and before you know it three cats come rushing at you and start meowing at you for attention. have you died and gone to heaven?

“you already know dori,” minho comes closer to where you're crouching to pet the three kitties. “and these are soonie and doongie.” he points at each one and you nod.

you feel like this might be imposing, but you're too overwhelmed with this much cuteness around you, so you can't help but ask:

“do you think they'll want to rip my eyes out if i try picking one of them up?” minho chuckles at that.

he doesn't usually like other people around his cats aside from his family and closest friends, but with the way you're looking at them with starry eyes and the slightest pout on your lips, he knows his babies are in good hands with you.

“try your luck, neighbour. they may not stay still, but they won't lash out. maybe try dori.” he advises. “it's not that much of a difference, but she has already seen you once.”

you nod and focus all your attention on the grey cat. when you gently scoop her up in your arms and she doesn't protest, you feel like you might cry tears of joy. she even lets you scratch her chin and... is that purring you're hearing? oh no, this is bad. you might be in love.

“she doesn't hate me!” you whisper-shout at minho. he chuckles again at your excitement.

“looks like it.”

“she's purring, minho.” he nods.

“i can hear that.”

“she's the cutest thing i've ever seen.” minho bites his tongue to stop himself from saying that you are the cutest thing he's ever seen.

“she takes after her owner.” is what he says instead. you're so entranced that your answer is automatic, unfiltered.

“she does.” you say with a smile. minho freezes as he feels a familiar heat at the tips of his ears, and you seem to notice what you've just said a moment later. you go stiff, and dori is startled enough to jump from your arms. “i mean!” you suddenly find minho's wooden floor, which is identical to yours, to be the most interesting thing in the world. “you do these little things sometimes that are kind of cat-like, you know?” you mumble.

minho gets giddy at the subtle implication that you've been paying attention to him.

“like what?” he asks while crouching to pet soonie, and surprisingly enough, his tone isn't teasing this time, just curious.

“like...” you slowly let you gaze meet his again “like when you blink slowly and many times when you're confused. or the way you sometimes tilt your head to the side. or the way i thought you were kind of an asshole at first but you actually look like you care a lot around the people around you.” you throw in.

that last one is a bit of a reach because you don't really know him that well yet, but you want to know what he has to say about it. fortunately, he doesn't seem offended when he huffs a laugh at you.

“why would you think i was an asshole?” he stands up again. you know he hasn't just asked you that.

“you were rude when we met on the elevator!”

“how was i rude?”

“you're either messing with me right now or you're too dense. you acted like you hated my guts! and you keep making fun of me since then.” you acuse, crossing your arms. minho winces a bit. he does see how he could have come across that way.

“i'm sorry it seemed like that, i'm just not the best at meeting new people.” he explains. “i guess that kind of makes a bit like a cat, huh? but for the record, i've never once made fun of you.” he says, completely serious.

“allow me to disagree.”

“it's true! friendly banter? maybe. a bit of teasing? perhaps. some flirting? definitely, if you hadn't noticed.” he says nonchalantly, and you freeze for a moment again. “but i would never make fun of you.”

“that's good to know.” is all you manage to squeak, and you want to get paid for all the times you blush around this man, because it's happening too often. minho goes back to smiling.

“good. now that that's settled, shall we watch a movie, neighbour?”

the little details were already hinting at it, but minho turns out to be a big softie. you are sitting on opposite ends of his couch so that both of you can have your legs stretched on top of it. his movie of choice is tangled, and you can tell he must have seen it at least as many times as you have to know every song by heart. he incredulously asks you if you aren't going to sing with him during the first one as if that was a given.

“you belt out taylor swift at ungodly hours in the morning but you can't take singing a couple of songs with me, neighbour?” he challenges. of course, you sing every damn song with him.

and it turns out to be a blast. you can't remember when was the last time you had this much fun watching a movie. but then again, neither of you you aren't as focused in the movie as you are in dramatically repeating some of the lines and singing the songs. you try not to think about how your heart speeds up when a more romantic song comes up or every time minho replaces flynn calling rapunzel “blondie” with his trademark “neighbour”.

halfway through the movie, minho takes out the brownies and the coffee.

“here. lix makes the best brownies, but i hope you'll still like my eggs better.” he winks at you. you find yourself smiling for the first time at that joke too.

“again with the eggs? why does it feel like you're using them as codeword for something else?” you tease as he hands you your plate and your cup. you place both on the table in front of the couch, and he does the same when he comes back with his.

“and what do you think they might be codeword for, neighbour?” you just shrug your shoulders. “well, whatever they are, they've been in your mouth” he wiggles his eyebrows at you like he did last time, and you take one of the cushions on the couch to playfully hit him with it.

“pervert.” you acuse.

he takes the cushion from your hands smirking and looks behind for his cats before chucking it without a care as they aren't there.

“maybe i am.” the two of you are left in very close proximity, and you start feeling that familiar heat on your face when your eyes seem to have a mind of their own and automatically dart to his lips. you really need to get paid for blushing around him.

“let's try those brownies.” you back away with a racing heart and pray that you won't drop your food or spill your drink with how shaky you get when you're nervous in the slightest. thankfully you manage to get through without incidents.

minho is right about those brownies being the best, as he was about mrs park's cookies.

“your eggs are definitely in danger after this, minho.” you joke around. “is your friend a pastry chef or something?” his eyes get wide and bright as they did when he asked mrs park if she would bring him cookies.

“he should be one, right? i've told him so hundreds of times!” the two of you practically inhale your brownies as you speak.

“i mean, he should definitely give it a try if it's something he enjoys, he's clearly good at it.” you say, taking another bite.

“good enough to make you forget about my eggs.” he pouts. “you wound me, neighbour. i'm gonna have to wine and dine you to win my rightful first place in your heart back.”

“are you asking me out, min-min?” you throw the nickname at him, not wanting to be the only flustered one in this room.

the usual redness appears on his ears, but he's not as flushed as the other times and there's no doubt in his voice when he says:

“damn right i am. what do you say?”

what do you say? that's a stupid question.

“sure, but are you sure you can top these?” you point at your now empty plate, moving on to what's left of your coffee. minho's lips quiver as if he's trying to contain a smile.

“topping is my favourite thing to do, neighbour.”

you almost spit out your coffee, but you don't have anything to hit him with within reach anymore, so you let it go this time.

you discuss when you'll meet for dinner, the movie long forgotten. minho apologetically tells you that his job is actually keeping him busy for the next couple of weeks or so, and that he won't have the time to cook you the five star course he's promised you until then. he offers to hang out some other day for movies like this if you want though, as he's free during afternoons for the most part. you, of course, say yes.

some other day turns out to be almost every day. minho and you exchanged numbers the day he asked you out to that dinner date, so you guys have been texting as well. there's a lot of your usual bickering and a big amount of flirting, your conversations becoming dangerously close to inappropriate sometimes. but for the most part, you just talk about more wholesome stuff.

he sends you lots of selfies using weird filters to make you laugh, and there's this one time when you nearly lose your shit when you receive one in your workplace. you learn he hates coriander with a passion, and it might make you a bit cruel, but you make a mental note to hide some in his food sometime to see the face he makes, just once. he tells you that he has seven friends who are dying to meet you, including the brownie boy. you also find out that he's a graduate on computer science and he works as a computer hardware engineer. you're not entirely sure what that is about, but you know that you need big brain energy to be working in something like that. his true passion, however, is actually his favourite hobby: dancing. so this man has got the looks, the brains, as you're quickly discovering the personality too, and he is a dancer. why does he keep getting more charming by the moment?

you have multiple chances to ask yourself this question in the span of the two weeks that you spend coming to his place to watch movies. you learn that soonie had been abandoned when he adopted him, that he got doongie from a friend's cat who had given birth, and that he got dori from an abandoned cat website too, and this fact tugs at your heartstrings. he just loves his cats so much, and it's obvious that they love him too. they are a little family, and you find them to be the absolute loveliest when they're together.

you just find minho to be the absolute loveliest in general. you realise now why you thought he was an asshole at first; it's because he doesn't feel the need to make a show out of how he cares for others. he never expects anything in return for the little things he does for people, nor does he shove it in anyone's faces that he's doing something for them. in fact, he does things for others almost secretly, you learn when he confesses what actually went down with the eggs. that was the problem all along: the first few times you saw minho, you were too focused on how he talked to you, which you easily mistook for the wrong thing when you didn't pay attention to the nice things he was pairing it with.

you don't think he's nice like you did that first time you saw him through your window though. you now think he's one of the sweetest people you know. some point along this couple of weeks, much to your friends' delight, you've found yourself telling them about your growing crush on your neighbour, and you have promised to ask him to meet them sometime soon. who knows? if things go well, maybe your friends can meet his. you still want to wait to tell your parents though, you don't want them jumping right to marriage at the news that you've found someone you like, that you're getting to know him, and that he seems to like you as well.

on his end, minho finds himself more infatuated with you by the second. it's all about the little things, he thinks. it's how you bring treats for his cats too when you bring snacks for the two of you, or how they curl both around and on top of you if you fall asleep on his couch like they've already done twice. it's how he wishes he could lie down with you too when that happens, how he wishes to hold you close to him too often these days. it's the way you look out for mrs park as if she was your own grandma ever since you met her just like he does. it's the way you feel more comfortable as time passes to match his teasing. it's the way your eyes have been softening lately and your smiles have been getting bigger each time you look at him.

and so, when the friday of your awaited dinner date rolls around, both of you are buzzing with excitement. you manage to get through half of the day without excitement turning into nerves, but when the afternoon arrives, your stomach starts to churn anxiously. you know there's no reason why you should be this nervous to see minho, but you can't help it. the possible outcomes of this date scare you. what if he decides he doesn't like you like that and doesn't want to have more dates with you or even invite you over for movies anymore? and what if he does want to keep on going on dates with you? you're old enough to treat the concept of dating with maturity, but it's still so new to you that you can't help but worry about whether you are enough to be considered dating material. and copious amounts of stress only mean one thing for you.

it's cleaning time.

you don't care if you'll soon have to start getting ready, you need this.

you're butchering half of celine dion's discography this time, which means minho must be having the time of his life back at his place, and that lots of teasing surely await you when you see him later tonight. or so you think.

you go around your house dusting the rooms and scrubbing the kitchen counters, and once you get that done you decide to finish off with something relatively quick and clean the windows and the balcony doors.

you finish off the windows in no time, and you have stepped out to your balcony with only one foot when soft meowing startles you. your eyes threaten to bulge out of their sockets when you lower your gaze.

doongie stands in your balcony, looking like he doesn't have a care in the world, and he's curiously looking at the streets below, his tail slowly swishing side to side as he sticks half of his body through the metal bars. you panic at the sight. this isn't good. you know that minho's cats never leave the house unless it is for a vet appointment, so doongie being out here in the open is completely unpredictable.

and you live on a third floor.

“doongie.” you softly call. “doongie, sweetie, come here” you try. doongie is uninterested. “pspsps. here, baby. here, have a treat, hmm?” you coax, and that grabs his attention.

he steps back and meows at you again, as if ushering you to give him what you've promised. that leaves you enough room to scoop him up into your arms. you take a quick glance at minho's balcony and find the doors closed, so you go back inside your place, lock the doors to your balcony and head straight for minho's house. you waste no time in ringing his doorbell, as you've done countless times now.

minho opens up soon after, and he looks more distressed than you've ever seen him. you can guess why.

“look, y/n, this might not be the best moment.” he tells you, looking guilty to be kicking you out before you've even stepped into his place.

it's shocking enough for you to hear him use your name instead of his usual “neighbour” with you. and as much as you hated it at first, you'd give anything to hear him say it now, because that would mean that he's feeling good enough to joke around with you.

“doongie is at my place.” you say. he looks at you with eyes wide as saucers and it seems like he doesn't fully process your words, so you repeat them. “doongie is at my place.”

when the words finally register in his head, he slumps and he lowers his head, his forehead landing on your shoulder. his hands grip your waist, holding onto you for dear life.

“thank god. oh, thank god.” he mumbles, muffled against you, but you still hear the shakiness in his tone. you stroke his hair softly. his hands move from your hips and then he's hugging you in the tightest hug anyone has ever given you. “thank you, thank you, thank you.” he repeats over and over against you, and you swear you can hear sniffling.

you wait until he's calmed down a bit to tell him that he can go get doongie, which he quickly and gladly accepts. he holds his cat right as he sees him, peppering the kitty's face with kisses.

“i was worried sick.” he tells him. “my baby, i'm so sorry. you have a dummy of an owner, right?” he apologises, scratching his chin. doongie doesn't look like he cares that much about it. in your eyes, he just looks happy to see minho as usual, as meows at him and proceeds to rub his face against him, purring loudly.

you watch the two fondly, and walk them the short way from your house to minho's when he says he's going back to get things ready for later.

you didn't notice when you came to get minho, but his place looks like a tornado went through it.

“do you need help with... that?” you ask from his front door, pointing inside. although you don't know exactly what to point at, everything looks like a mess.

minho tells you that he started looking everywhere once he noticed that doongie was missing and that's why his house looks like that. he tries to politely refuse your offer, telling you that he'll have his place looking like it usually does in no time and then he'll make dinner for the two of you. nice try, but you're not having any of that

“bullshit.” you deadpan. “i'm helping you and you don't get to say no. i brought doongie back to you, so you owe me one.”

“and you're deciding that i owe you... letting you clean and tidy up a mess that you didn't make?”

“you got a problem with that?” you ask with an eyebrow raised at him. minho straightens up.

“no, ma'am.”

“thought so.”

the two of you get to work, and even with an extra pair of hands to help, it takes longer than minho had expected to get his place back to normal.

minho looks dejectedly at the kitchen counter where he had already set a few of the ingredients he was going to use and bites his lip. it's probably too late to make what he had in mind now, so he will have to settle for something quicker.

“make yourself at home, i'll get started with dinner.” he says.

you yank the back of his collar to pull him back to you.

“no, you won't.”

“what is it with you bossing me around today?” he complains, turning to face you.

“minho, you were scared shitless for doongie just a while back and i can tell you're still unsettled by the whole thing, so just sit back and rest for a little, okay?”minho doesn't look fully convinced.

“but what about dinner?” 

“it's fine, minho, don't worry about it. we can order some takeout and you'll cook for me next time.”

you see the signs of how he hasn't fully recovered from the shock just yet as he frantically looks at doongie every now and then. as if he were going to disappear any second, and for good this time. his voice hasn't lost that shakiness you noticed earlier, and his lips have been pursed in a straight line while his eyes have looked suspiciously watery. it breaks your heart to see him this shaken up.

“no, i-i promised. it was the whole point of the date, and-”

screw this, he needs to shut up.

for the first time since you've known each other, it's you who interrupts minho.

crushing your lips against his.

it takes him by surprise and he goes stiff for a moment, but you keep it short either way.

“minho,” you cup his cheeks softly and look him in the eyes. “do you really think you need to cook for me to get me to like you, or to go on more dates with you, or whatever it is that your equally hot and stupid brain is thinking right now?” he looks speechless.

“huh?” oh how the tables have turned. not long ago, you were the one stunned to silence in each of your conversations, and now it's him who can't find the words to answer you.

“i'm saying i already like you, you cute idiot. i don't care about dinner, i'm here for the time i get to spend with you.”

minho looks like he's on the verge of tears, but even as he lightly sniffles, he smiles and says:

“and here i thought you only wanted me to be your trophy husband.” you smile at him, lacing your hands together behind his neck.

“idiot.” he shrugs his shoulders, not losing the smile. you never want him to lose the smile.

“it's part of my charm.”

“it actually is.” you admit.

and this time, it's him who's diving in to kiss you. his lips move slowly against yours, soft and tender at first, and a few moments later they become firmer, more passionate. you match his pace eagerly, and you think that you could kiss this boy for a whole lifetime as a pleasant shiver runs down your spine and you feel goosebumps rising on your skin. the two of you feel breathless when you pull apart, but he still steals another peck before resting his forehead against yours with a smile. one of his hands comes up to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek in slow motions.

“hey, neighbour.” he whispers.

your lips stretch in the biggest, happiest smile your face is capable of, and minho doesn't need to see it. he feels it, and he knows he will do whatever it takes to have you smiling like that as often as possible.

“hi.”

after that, he finally yields to you, letting you order some takeout as you cuddle on his couch. minho is laying his head on your chest and has his eyes closed while you thread your fingers through his hair. soonie is sleeping by your feet, doongie is laying on your chest right next to minho's face and dori is curled up on top of your belly. you could get used to this.

“date me.” minho suddenly mumbles, half asleep.

“huh?”

“i said date me.” he repeats, a bit louder this time.

“i heard you. but haven't we been going on dates this whole time? i thought the movies were dates.” your voice goes somewhat quieter and you bite your lip at that last part, afraid that you might have misunderstood the situation. minho huffs and opens his eyes to look at you, but makes no effort to move from his current position.

“you can be so dense sometimes. yes, those were dates. but i mean date me. as in, be my girlfriend, neighbour.”

minho feels you tense under him, and he watches at your eyes dart from one place to another. he can hear your heart picking up its pace from where his head is placed, and he smiles at the adorable blush already creeping up your cheeks.

“sure, min-min.” you throw the nickname at him, as you do every time you want him to feel even a fraction of the bashfulness you feel.

and it works, like it does every time. minho rolls his eyes at you, but he somehow does so lovingly, and then closes them again.

“hey neighbour?” he quietly calls out to you. you hum for him to continue as your fingers keep moving slowly through his hair.

his eyes remain closed as the corners of his lips lift.

“did you order something with eggs?”

;; hoodie season. ⎯⎯ ♡

pairing ! yang jungwon x reader

genre ! fluff

wc ! 0.3k

song rec. ! hoodie season — stray kids

“take off your hoodie.”

jungwon looked at you, puzzled for a moment at your sudden order.

“what?”

“take off your hoodie,” you repeated casually.

“why?”

“because i’m cold,” you smiled innocently.

jungwon sighed, rolling his eyes lightheartedly.

even though he knew you were just being playful, he adored you, especially in times like these—because truth be told, he loved seeing you in his hoodies.

you watched as he removed his hoodie from his body, something which was always so attractive to you. that was one reason you loved receiving his hoodies, though you’d never admit it.

being the gentleman of a boyfriend he was, he helped the hoodie onto you, your head quickly popping out from the fabric, and jungwon’s eyes crinkled into a smile of adoration for you.

once you got the piece of clothing on, you sighed with a grin, more than happy to be in one of his extremely comfortable hoodies.

jungwon quickly looked you up and down, butterflies erupting in his stomach at the sight of you in his clothes, a feeling that never seemed to fade even after all this time. he couldn’t help but lean forward and place a soft and short kiss on your lips with a smile. and once he pulled back, it left you wanting more. you frowned.

noticing your sad state, jungwon chuckled before bringing you closer and kissing you more.

as he pulled back, he continued to leave a few last pecks, not only on your lips again, but also some on your cheeks, nose and forehead.

lost in the moment, even after jungwon pulled away, you were snapped back to reality when his voice started, “better?”

your eyes immediately met his, slightly out of it, “hm?”

“are you still cold?” he clarified.

you paused for a moment as you smiled, “no, i feel much warmer now.”

“good,” he sighed happily with a smirk before adding, “you look cute in my clothes.”

a/n. i’m unfortunately going through a major writer’s block rn for the first time in literal years,, but i managed to push this out. it’s not much but at least i got smth out finally <//3 likes, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! thank u! <3

literally sobbing rn

Love Lessons

Genre: husband!Chan, angst, fluff

Warnings: self hatred (Chan)

Request: no

Characters: Chan, Y/N

Word Count: 1.8k

"I wish I looked like him."

Bewildered, Y/N turned to look at her husband. Chan was looking at the TV a little wistfully, a sad smile on his lips as he studied the actor depicted on the screen.

"He's so handsome … " Chan continued with a sigh, and he leaned back into the sofa in slow defeat. "And have you seen his body? He's so … big."

Y/N blinked. She moved fully so her body was facing his, and she reached out to take his surprised face in her hands. "Well, I'm very glad you don't look like him. I'm attracted to you, not him."

Chan was confused. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you attracted to me … ?" Chan's voice came out in a whisper; it wavered and cracked towards the end, and Y/N bit her lip.

She had a feeling it was one of those days. One of those days where her husband hated himself more than anything. One of those days where her heart broke over and over again in her attempts at trying to get him to see what she could see.

But she'd never stop trying. Not until he could finally learn to love himself even a fraction of how much she loved him.

"Because you're beautiful," Y/N smiled, caressing his cheeks. "And I love you very much."

Chan frowned. He didn't seem convinced; but then again, he never did. "But … I'm ugly."

Y/N considered saying "no, you're not" or "don't say that" … but something in the back of her mind told her not to. She decided to try a different approach, one that hurt her a little more than she wanted to admit.

"Okay," Y/N nodded softly. "Let's say you are ugly."

Chan was taken aback; his eyes widened as he stared at his wife.

Y/N smiled gently. "If you're ugly, does that mean you deserve less love than anyone else?"

Her question hit him harder than he thought it would. He blinked slowly, and he began to shake his head.

"No," Y/N murmured as she shook her own head along with him. "It doesn't. Do you remember what you used to tell your fans all those years ago?"

Chan bit his lip.

"'It doesn't matter where you're from, it doesn't matter what country you're in'," Y/N quoted as Chan's eyes began to glisten rather brightly. "'You deserve love. It doesn't matter what you are, what you chose to be, you deserve love,'."

At that, Chan couldn't help the tears that began to drop down his cheeks. Smiling up at him with her eyes full of love, Y/N wiped the tears away with her thumbs as she pulled him a little closer to her.

"I know it wasn't exactly about looks," Y/N said. "But I know for a fact that if someone was hating themselves back then because they thought they were ugly, you'd have immediately told them they deserved to be loved."

Looking down at his lap, Chan shut his eyes tightly. He hadn't expected this; he had no idea his musings would result in his wife's words bringing the tears out of him.

"Why are you any different, hmm?" Y/N gently caressed the nape of his neck; his hair had begun to curl up there, and it was soft, so incredibly soft that Y/N couldn't help but feel sad. She didn't understand why her husband hated himself when there were parts of him that were so dear to her, that she had no idea what she'd do without them.

"Who are you to not love yourself?"

At that, Chan spluttered; the hems of his shorts had ridden up his thighs, and they now glistened as fat tears splashed onto his skin like sad fireworks.

Y/N let him cry; she rubbed his back and kissed his hands until he was finished. When he looked up at her with red eyes, she almost felt her heart physically shattering into smithereens like glass.

There was so much pain and self loathing painted in his eyes … the eyes that felt like home to her, the eyes that calmed the depths of her anxious soul on the most terrifying of nights. She was shocked that such beautiful galaxies could hold such hatred; hatred that was directed at himself.

She found it terrifying yet beautiful that the eyes that looked at her with such love were the same as these ones; hard, cold, and full of pain.

"Okay," she whispered, reaching out to slip her fingers onto his again. "Okay. Let's go through this. What is it exactly that you think is ugly about you, baby?"

"Everything," Chan whispered. "Everything."

"Everything is a very big word, my darling," Y/N smiled. "I don't think even you hate everything about yourself."

She knew him well; the corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly, and she couldn't help but inwardly smile even bigger.

"Okay, let's try this instead … you love me, right?"

It was remarkable; Chan's eyes immediately softened at the question, the sparkle that was so familiar to Y/N appearing in his pupils.

"Very much," Chan hummed.

"What is it that you love about me?" Y/N asked.

Chan smiled. "Everything."

At that, Y/N couldn't help but giggle. She leaned forward and kissed the man on his cheek. It was wet and fever hot, and she wiped the traces of tears away with her fingers again.

"Well … you believe in soulmates, don't you?"

He had no idea where this was going, but he nodded; he had said countless times since meeting her that he felt as though their souls were extensions of one another.

"If we're soulmates, then that would mean we share bits of each other, right?" Y/N asked.

Chan pondered this. He nodded slowly.

"If bits of you are in me, and bits of me are in you … " Y/N whispered, running her fingers over the backs of her husband's hands. "If you hate yourself, wouldn't that mean you're also hating bits of me?"

Chan's eyes suddenly widened. He seemed at a loss for words; he had no idea if what she was saying was scientifically correct or not, but he suddenly didn't care. The thought of him hating her, indirectly or not, was too much for him to bear.

His eyes suddenly flooded with tears all over again.

"Baby … " Chan whispered, dropping his face into his hands. Tears spilled through the gaps in his fingers as his body shook in front of his wife.

"Do you know one of the reasons why I began to love myself?" Y/N continued.

Chan shook his head.

"I started seeing pieces of you in me. The more time we spent together, the more I fell in love with you … I realised we were so much more similar than I thought was possible. And I thought … how on earth am I supposed to hate myself when so much of me is like you?"

"Y/N … " Chan was crying loudly now; his face contorted with pain as he gulped, his entire body shuddering. He didn't know what was going through his mind … all he knew was that he had never loved anyone as much as he loved the woman in front of him.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Chan pulled Y/N into him; he closed his lips over hers in a warm kiss, one that made Y/N's own eyes prickle with emotion as she shut them. She kissed him back, her lips gently caressing his. She was telling him something that no amount of words could ever say, and fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, and onto hers.

Y/N sniffed as she kissed her husband. She suddenly remembered reading about how people who didn’t love themselves couldn't love others; she couldn't help but feel that that was wrong. She had never felt as loved by anyone as she had by her husband. He loved her fiercely, passionately, so much so that sometimes she forgot he was even capable of hating in the first place.

She knew that people said it was impossible to love a broken person. She didn't think that was true. Difficult, perhaps.

But never impossible.

"You're beautiful to me," Y/N whispered now as she cupped his cheeks. "You're always going to be beautiful to me."

Chan nodded against her; her earlier words had flooded through him like a shock wave, and he suddenly felt incredibly guilty towards himself.

I was something he had never experienced before. He didn't quite know what to make of it.

"Whether you're ugly or you're not," Y/N said, her face breaking into a smile as she nudged her husband playfully. "Which you're not. But ugly or not, your body works so hard for you everyday. It does its best for you so you can eat and so you can walk and so you can talk and just … be alive. Don't you think it deserves a little bit of love for that?"

"Yeah … " Chan hiccuped. He leaned forward and Y/N immediately scooped him up into her arms. She held him tightly, gently rocking him as he cried into her shirt with an urgency that made her feel as though hundreds of little needles were piercing through her heart.

"I know you're always dissatisfied with your body and the way you look … " Y/N whispered against his shoulder. "But no matter how much your body changes, you're always going to be dissatisfied if you don't truly love yourself. You could be the strongest man in the world … but if you hate yourself, you'd still find a reason to be unhappy about your appearance."

Chan knew she was right. She always was. She knew him better than he knew himself - she seems to have somehow crawled into the depths of his mind and addressed the thought that constantly berated him throughout the day.

He knew he'd never be satisfied with the way he looked. He also knew there was only one way to go about fixing that.

Perhaps it was time he actually tried.

"You're right," he whispered, sniffing as he rubbed his cheek against Y/N's neck. "I know you're right. You're always right."

"This isn't about me being right, baby," Y/N smiled as she kissed his cheek. "I just want you to be happy in your own skin. I can't make you happy … but I can hold your hand and be right here while you do it for yourself, you know?"

Chab nodded. He nodded hard, and when he pulled away from his wife again, his face began to glow with a small smile.

"Aw, look at that," Y/N laughed quietly as she kissed his smile. "You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen."

He flushed; his nose turned pink and instead of denying the compliment like he usually would, he grinned.

"Thank you?"

---

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if you look closely, you'll see my room rn flooded with my tears 😊

⋅ GENRES: established relationship; fluff

⋅ PAIRING: Heeseung x fem!reader

⋅ WORD COUNT: 1.1K

⋅ WARNINGS: established relationship with Heeseung?! slow dancing with him late at night?! he singing love songs to you?! it’s all valid warnings if you ask me, but aside from these; suggestive content; mentions of alcohol

if you read it a few months ago but with another member — no! you didn’t! you are recalling it wrongly! just kidding, special thanks to everyone who joined the poll and helped me select the main character of this repost ♡

Heeseung wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy you expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants.

No. Heeseung was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you and order food past midnight. He laid blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room and made picnics on it. The lyrics of a love song and your laughter being the only furor in the middle of the sleeping city. And then, when the bowls were empty and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him.

Barefoot and clumsy, Heeseung loved to dance with you.

The night had fallen into those strange hours when no one could tell if it was really late or really early. The city was silent beyond the opened windows of your living room, allowing Heeseung’s playlist to resonate as if it were the only sound in the entire world.

Along with his laughter, of course.

You looked at him, mind halted in the middle of a sentence you would never finish. You weren’t sure if you had intended to be funny, you knew you were talking, trailing a long line of thoughts but then he laughed, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes in a habit you already knew.

Heeseung’s body had come undone in happiness far too many times throughout the course of your relationship for you to not have it engraved in your heart. But shafts of golden luminescence reached for him tonight, embellishing his skin with a soft glow, and when he straightened himself back to look at you, it made his eyes shine, glinting in errant spheres of gold.

Heeseung was so beautiful beneath all of this — all made in reflections of the city lights and the dim flames of the candles you had lit at some moment at the beginning of the night.

You couldn’t remember making the decision to reach for him, but you must have done it because he took your hand in mid-motion, thumb caressing the inside of your wrist before he brought it up to his lips and kissed it.

“Dance with me,” he said. The question had no question mark, no doubt or uneasiness. Heeseung knew you would never refuse him, but he still waited for you to nod at him before he used your connected hands to pull you up.

You didn’t recognize the song coming from his phone, a fast beat that had him spinning you through the hardwood floor of your living room. His movement caught you so unprepared, it made you laugh loudly, and Heeseung took it as the cue to swirl you again and again, the shirt you had stolen from him moving dangerously around your thighs until he decided to bring you back to him and pull you against his chest.

“Aren’t we being too loud?” you asked.

“If your neighbors file a complaint again, maybe you will take a hint this time and move into mine.”

“You want me there so badly, don’t you?”

“You have no idea love,” he whispered, spreading his hands at the small of your back, and bringing you closer to him. His palms were warm through the thin material of your — his shirt and your heart knocked inside of your chest, so loud you were sure he could feel it echoing through the space between you.

Heeseung’s touches were no novelty to you. He had explored your body far more than anyone would or could — God, he had touched you just a few hours previously, but still there was something about being beneath his attention that would always make you a bit overwhelmed.

The song that came on next was quieter, not lazier, or languid but he leaned in as if you were to slow dance, his cheek resting against the side of your head and allowing you to breathe him in. Heeseung smelled like the woody scent of his perfume, dry imbues, and blackberry leaves — he smelled like the wine he had brought for your picnic and home.

If your heart wasn’t aching already, it did then and there.

“I like this song,” he said. At first, you thought it had been a statement to nobody, but he placed his lips against your ear, and the lyrics threaded through your hair as if the only thing he ever wanted was for you to know it.

“I see my future when I look into your eyes.”

It was nothing extravagant. His voice came a bit low and timid, but it only made your heart ache a little bit more.

“It took your love to make my heart come alive,” Heeseung sang. “Cause’ I lived my life believing all love is blind.”

“But everything about you is telling me this time it’s forever, this time I know, and there’s no doubt in my mind.”

Your hands left the safety of his shoulders to slip up, fingers curling on the hair at his nape, bringing him impossibly closer. Heeseung gasped at your actions, the soft rustle of his breath hitching against your ear as he failed to sing the next lyrics, but he didn’t need to — you already knew them.

You always knew them.

Forever, until my life is through. I’ll be loving you forever.

The song kept going, but Heeseung stopped, drawing back just enough to look at you, his eyes lingering and simply unable to conceal the pure and unfiltered adoration he had for you.

Heeseung wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy you expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants.

No. Heeseung was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you, kneeling on the dirty pavement to pick tiny blossoms and put them in your hair. He ordered food past midnight, and laid blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room to make picnics on it. The lyrics of a love song and your laughter being the only furor in the middle of the sleeping city. And then, when the bowls were empty and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him, barefoot and clumsy, and you would barter it for nothing.

After all, this was how you found forever.

oh my.. this is gonna be good 👀

Lucifer|| 18+

Synopsis: After you found your husband cheating on you, you found a different kind of comfort in his devilishly handsome colleagues.

Pairings: detective!02z × fem!reader

A/N: this is one of the, if not the most filthiest shit I've ever written, and I apologise to everyone who will read this because THIS IS ACTUALLY PORN. Shoutout to @jaeyunluvr for inspiring me to make this fic hehe.

Prologue

Pairings: detective 02z × fem!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, minors please do not interact, catcalling, mention of alcohol, reader is cheated on by Heeseung, cheating (which I do not condone in real life)

Status: posted!

The Demon of Destruction

Pairings: detective!Sunghoon × fem! reader

Warnings: Smut minors Dni, dildo use, ab riding, swearing, use of aphrodisiac, slightly drunk reader, fem!reader, p in v, rough sex, degradation, praise, mention of cheating, creampie, dom!Hoon, reader is called 'angel'

Status: In Progress

The Elysian Angel

Pairings: detective!Jake × fem!reader

Warnings: smut minors Dni, oral (f and m receiving), anal sex, switch Jake, slight dom!reader, praise, degradation, p in v sex, dumbification, use of petname 'doll', mention of food and alcohol, Heeseung being an asshole

Status: In Progress

The Fallen One

Pairings: detective!Jay × fem!reader

Warnings: smut minors Dni, bondage, use of handcuffs, fingering, use of blindfold, cock riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex (not for you), breeding kink, Jay's just really obsessed alright?, Fluffy in the end, swearing, mention of food and alcohol

Status: In Progress

Taglist: open! Send an ask or comment to be added

2:53 am

"kei." no response. you know tsukishima has to get up early for work, but the window across from your bed is open, allowing the night breeze to creep in and sting your face. you could get up yourself, but that's what husbands are for, right?

you twist around, trying to wiggle out of your husband's grasp so you can take a better look at his sleeping face. he has an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, the other supporting your neck to, in his words, 'protect his ears from your constant complaints about your sore neck in the morning'.

"honey?" you poke his cheek, smiling to yourself when he grunts in response. tsukishima has always been a light sleeper. you lay in silence for a few seconds before he finally lets out a sigh, opening his eyes to look at you.

"what do you want?"

you muster up your biggest doe eyes, knowing that he hates getting out of bed just as much as you do. "close the window for me?"

"no. you do it."

you sigh dramatically, gesturing at his arms wrapped firmly around you. "i would love to, but someone is holding me hostage, so i think you're going to have to do it."

tsukishima rolls his eyes, untangling his arms from your body. "problem solved." he holds back a smile when you frown and pull the blankets away from him, turning your back towards him. you're so cute. tsukishima would do anything you ask of him without hesitation, but he can't help but tease you a bit first. he'll never get tired of your reactions, and he loves that he can be a little snarky with you.

you sigh again, this time louder and more pointed, pretending to shiver just to show your husband how cold you really are, and how cruel he is for not helping. "if only someone could hold me right now...", you trailed off.

"ok, do you want me to help you or not?" he finally gives in, getting up to reach for his glasses. you win, as usual. you turn back to face him again with a smile as bright as sunshine, and despite all of the years you've been together, his heart still stops for a second. wow. okay, maybe he is obsessed with you, but he can't help it. you've clearly worked your magic on him, considering the fact that he's getting out of the bed for you when he has to be awake in a few hours. he goes to close the windows with a firm click, walking back to his side of bed.

"kei...since you're already up...", he looks back to see your guilty smile, an empty mug in your hands. "please? last thing, i swear." he give you a look that reads, "you're lucky i love you." (you know you're the luckiest person in the world.)

he takes your mug and you hear his quiet footsteps making their way to the kitchen. he comes back, handing you a mug full of warm water. once you take a sip, he takes the mug from you again, placing it on your nightstand.

"i poisoned that," he quips, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before finally lying down and snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. the only reason he hates getting out of bed is that he has to let go of you, but he doesn't need to say that. he's sure you already know.