felix🫧
⪩.⪨ — 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?”
He hugs you randomly Tsukishima x reader
Kei isn't the type to shower you with physical affection. He would kiss and hug you occasionally or when you'd meet. So, when he randomly kissed you, without warning or reason, you got caught off guard and maybe your heart stopped for a few seconds.
you were in his house chilling, casually. you both were on your phones. you accidentally caught a glimpse of his lock screen. it was a picture of you and him, eating ice cream on Valentines day.
"aww that's us" you say rolling beside him. "yeah how cute" he replied sarcastically pretending not to care but, the blush on his cheeks said otherwise.
"never knew Tsukki could be such a simp" you teased. "truly loving someone doesn't make me a simp, no?" he replied.
you suddenly felt yourself falling deeper, your heart rate increasing. he turns towards you, smirking, knowing well of the effect he had on you. "shut up" you huffed. "it's usually me saying that" he replied, smirking bigger. "so how was practice today?" you tried to change the topic. "ehh alright. I hurt my fingers again" he complained holding up his hand, inspecting them. you took his palm and placed a small kiss on the back. out of the blue, he looks straight into you, a few seconds feel like minutes, he leans in. lips together as if they were conjoint. you were startled. Kei Tsukishima kissed you, without warning. was this even him? after what felt like you were on Cloud 9, your lips parted. "I just realized I should kiss you more often." he admitted. your mind replayed the same scene for the rest of the day and in the dark of the night, all in the back of your mind.
and if I combust then what
PAIRING ! yang jungwon x fem!reader // GENRE ! fluff // WC. ! 0.6k // reader is insecure of her smile
PROMPT(S) ! 16. taking a photo of them smiling or in their element ;; 27. randomly face-timing just to hear their voice/see their face // requested by @woonie-muffin <3 // 2k followers event
A/N. ! slowly getting through all of my jungwon requests for this event. i’ll get there eventually 😭 anyways i hope y’all enjoy cuz i had a lot of fun writing this one <3
“hi,” jungwon greeted you through the screen with a very happy smile on his face at the sight of you, the tone of his voice soft and loving.
“hi,” you replied with just as much joy to the boy displayed live on your phone. “everything okay? why the sudden call?”—not that you were complaining though.
“yeah, everything’s fine. i just needed to see your beautiful face,” he told you with his still wide smile.
“well, sorry to break it to you, but i don’t look too beautiful, especially right now-“
“are you kidding?!” your boyfriend interrupted. “you’re kidding, right?”
you sat there on the opposite end of the line, taken aback, “what do you mean?”
“you’re one of the most beautiful girls on this entire planet, how could you say you’re not beautiful?” jungwon asked, genuinely sad that you were down on yourself about your appearance, especially of all people; he was speaking the truth.
“one of the most beautiful?” you questioned with a jokingly offended tone. “who else is on that level to you?”
“obviously my mom,” he answered effortlessly to which you nodded in approval and understanding.
“but what about your sister?” you asked.
“what?! ew—no, are you kidding?” jungwon replied without hesitation, causing you to laugh.
but those joyful sounds that left your lips faded just as quickly as they came when you got alerted on your phone that jungwon had just taken a screenshot.
“hey! what was that for?” you questioned, confused, with a slight smile still on your face.
“as i said, i think you look beautiful,” your boyfriend answered proudly.
“wonie,” you pouted. “i don’t look good right now.”
“stop, who are you trying to fool? you literally look incredible right now. i don’t understand how you could think otherwise,” he said, frowning with his last statement.
“and i don’t like my smile,” you added softly, half-hoping he wouldn’t hear you.
“y/n,” he looked at you sadly, “why would you ever say that? i love your smile. that’s one of my favourite features of yours. i love how it shows how happy you are at a certain moment. i think your smile is adorable and seeing it always makes me so happy.”
“won—“
“it’s true,” he told you as he began to navigate his way through his apps and to his photos where he then found the screenshot he took of you.
a smile instantly grew on his lips. he looked so happy.
“your smile is contagious, i love it,” he said, giggly.
your heart quickly grew soft and warm, and you felt a giddy feeling within your stomach.
“i wish i could kiss you right now,” you told him. “if you were here right now, i would totally kiss you—wait. wonie, are you—no. no, you’re not. you’re kidding. are you here right now?”
“heck, yeah, baby. now open the door,” he said, and you watched with amazement that the background on his end was of the view just outside your front door.
“how-“ you attempted to get out. “how did you even-?”
“surprise, you’re just not very observant,” he teased, causing you to roll your eyes. “hurry, don’t just sit there. come open the door for me! i miss seeing that pretty smile in real life.”
“you saw me earlier today at school,” you said.
“yeah, and? doesn’t mean i can’t miss it,” he continued. “and not only do i wanna see that smile. i also wanna kiss it.”
“wonie!” you said, trying to hold back your giddy laughter, but it was to no use.
“okay, hurry up! open the door!”
with both of you laughing, you hung up the call, walked to your door and opened it to reveal a very happy wonie.
A/N. i want a wonie 🥺💗 feedback and reblogs are appreciated ! thanks for reading <3
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PAIRING ! park sunghoon x reader // GENRE ! fluff // WC. ! 0.2k
PROMPT(S) ! 13. teasing each other good-naturedly ;; 30. laying their head on the other’s shoulder // requested by two lovely anons <3 // 2k followers event
A/N. ! second-last drabble for this event :’> it’s been fun y’all <3 ,, i hope you enjoy <3
the buzzing whitenoise that filled the car lulled you into a degree of drowsiness you weren’t expecting to experience at this point in the day, yet here you were, sitting beside your boyfriend, sunghoon, resting your head on his shoulder and nearly falling into slumber. but before you could pull yourself fully into dreamland, you heard an uncomfortable groan come from your boyfriend as you felt him slightly shrug his shoulder.
“what’s this heavy weight on my shoulder?” you heard him say.
you lifted your head up, looking at him with furrowed brows as you pouted and feigned anger to the best of your abilities. he couldn’t help but laugh.
“i’m just kidding,” he said.
“hmph,” you whipped your head away to face the window instead before laying your head against the wall of the car. “i didn’t want your shoulder anyway; too hard and uncomfortable.”
“yeah, y/n, it’s called muscle,” he told you in a playfully cocky tone.
you couldn’t hide the growing smile creeping to your lips, and of course, sunghoon just had to notice. but before he could say anything, you quickly moved your head back to rest on his shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut, pretending not to hear anything as you made a weak attempt at falling back asleep.
and all sunghoon did was chuckle jokingly in disbelief before you felt him lay his own head on top of yours just seconds later, falling asleep side by side, under one another’s touch.
A/N. ugh i hate him, but he’s cute ig so he’s forgiven 🙄 /lh ,, feedback and reblogs always put a big smile on my face <3 thanks for reading <3
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#cryingagain
midnight thoughts: [heeseung + drunk words]
synopsis: real sweet, but you wish he was sober (alternatively, you take such good care of heeseung while he's drunk that he decides to tell you how he really feels). pairing: heeseung x gn!reader genre/warnings: hurt/comfort (?), f2l (ambiguous but still cute i promise) / EMETOPHOBIA TW (nothing happens but throwing up is mentioned, be cautious <3)!!!, drunk heeseung lol, tiny skz mention (my worlds colliding), um alcohol consumption (?), sunghoon is the dd don't worry there is no drunk driving! wc: 1.4k (el oh el)a/n: inspired by model student heeseung in the first couple en-o'clocks who is unreasonably attractive but also ? a dork . that is all. (love u hee stans this one's for u hope u're doing okay lately w ur man acting the way he is.)
[1:16AM] six shots of tequila and a raspberry smirnoff ice deep, and lee heeseung is gone. strong surges of heat rush to his cheeks to create a dizzying push and pull effect, rivulets of sweat are beginning to drip from his temples, and he's trying his best not to vomit up the fried chicken jake and sunghoon made him eat earlier. heeseung finds solace on the cool tiles of the kitchen floor; he clutches the crisp fabric of his white button down and attempts to will away the waves of nausea that are crashing against the walls of his stomach. breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, heeseung's thoughts begin to drift back to a familiar place. he can almost feel the phantom sensation of your fingers carding through his hair; the tips of your fingers are refreshing and imbue him with a tranquility that he isn't often privy to.
"holy shit, dude—did we really let you get this fucked up?" heeseung vaguely registers jake's voice as two warm fingers reach under his jaw to check his pulse. inwardly, heeseung chuckles—leave it to biomedical engineering major, pre-anesthesiology track jake sim to presume death over everything else. glancing up, heeseung watches the genuine concern that flashes in the younger boy's gaze. "c'mon heeseung, we gotta get you home, bro. good god—[y/n] is actually gonna murder us …”
heeseung curls in on himself at the sound of your name, hiding away from the prodding of jake’s fingers into his upper arms. he wants to press his face into the crook of your neck, he aches to feel your hands cascading up and down the length of his spine, he yearns so desperately for a chance to indulge in a tender moment of unity with you. heeseung closes his eyes to relish in the way the memories seem to envelop him in a ghostly embrace, and he swears he only blinks once. the bass-boosted music and headache inducing strobe lights become mere background accompaniment to the movie playing behind his eyelids.
he swears he only blinks once, but the familiar aroma of your perfume begins to permeate his senses—bergamot and vanilla, his favorite. voices come into focus, his head starts to pound, and the reality of being splayed all over the backseat of sunghoon’s benz is setting in at the speed of falling molasses. "what the hell did you let him get into?" there's a certain venom in the question that bites at his jugular. he recognizes the cadence of your voice and the way you suck a sharp breath through your teeth with ease. "sigma kappa zeta is so out of hee's league—you couldn't have taken him to alpha tau zeta or tau chi tau or someplace that bang chan doesn't run?"
"he said he could handle it!" sunghoon counters.
you let an incredulous scoff escape your mouth as you berate the two boys in a hushed whisper, "and, you believed him? he obviously wanted to impress you idiots. god, i'm starting to think jongseong is the only one of you with a functioning brain ... "
"[y/n]!" jake exclaims, "so not chill."
"no—what's really not chill is tweedledumb and tweedledumber letting heeseung get wasted at his first frat party." you scold, voice cold as ice while jabbing an accusatory finger in their faces. jake and sunghoon hang their heads like dogs being told off for chewing up furniture; in any other situation, you might have had the inclination to chuckle, but you don't. "now, help him up to my couch and leave before i get even meaner."
everything is blurry as heeseung stumbles his way up the stairs to your apartment; sunghoon and jake are bickering with one another while supporting each side of his body—who is tweedledumb and who is tweedledumber, who let heeseung drink this much booze, who will have to recount tonight's escapades to jay, and who will have to give pity laughs to his impending dad jokes? they curse at one another until you mention the possibility of a noise complaint, and all the incessant chatter stops. in the midst of a spring night, only cricket song remains. heeseung focuses on the quiet chirping until the cool leather of your couch cushions begins to soothe the molten liquid that seems to course through his veins. goodbyes are exchanged and a door is closed somewhere far away, but heeseung's head is too heavy to lift.
he blinks again and opens his eyes to the rough fibers of an old washcloth running over the peaks and valleys of his face. the fabric brushes along the deep circles carved beneath his bloodshot eyes; concentration knits your forehead into a multitude of different creases, and heeseung can't help the pitiful chuckle that tumbles from his mouth. an airy sensation overtakes his being as he realizes that he's right where he had wanted to be all evening—with you. embarrassment still settles like an indestructible boulder in the pit of his stomach, however; shame's spindly talons sink into heeseung's flesh as he realizes just how much of a fool he's made out of himself.
"just—just wan'ed to be cool, [y/n]," heeseung slurs out, voice plagued with exhaustion. bringing his knees to his chest, heeseung attempts to keep his tears at bay. "just wan'ed to show you that i c'n be cool 'nd awesome 'nd sexy! but, now 'm just looking stupid on your couch ..."
placing the washcloth on the arm of the sofa, you move to rest heeseung's head in your lap. he gladly accepts the comforting gesture, cuddling into the soft cotton of sweatpants he realizes are his. combing your fingers through his roots and scratching at his scalp, you whisper, "for the record—i already think you're cool and awesome."
heeseung glances up at you, face swollen and eyes puffy. "really?" he asks, "so, you don't think i'm a stupid, un-sexy idiot that can't hold his liquor?"
"well, you can't hold your liquor," you muse with a hint of laughter in your voice, caressing the supple skin of his cheekbone, "but, no. i don't think you're a stupid, un-sexy idiot."
basking in the reality he was just confronted with, heeseung's drunken mind can only focus on one thing. his desperate need for clarification tempts him; desire's forked tongue beckons him towards the truth. the question repeats over and over again in his brain until it spills out—an unwilling victim of an inebriated perpetrator. "so ..." he drawls, attempting to wink but closing both eyes instead, "you think i'm sexy?"
and, you laugh. it's a euphoric sound—a beautiful melody reminiscent of spring picnics, gingham blankets, and the fragrant scent of blooming tulips. for a moment, heeseung loses himself in it; coherent thought escapes his grasp as he is overtaken by you. your touch, your warmth, the bleary image of your smile as it comes in and out of focus. you wash over heeseung in waves, an ocean of calm in a world that only seeks to burn; alluring siren song floods his mind as you call out to him over the sound of the blood pumping his ears. the cool tips of your fingers are beginning the quell the heat beneath heeseung's skin as consciousness begins to slip away from him, and a dopey grin is woven onto his lips.
"heeseung," you murmur, the ghost of a bout of giggles hiding behind your words. "hee, baby, you should really let me get up to grab you some advil."
the term tumbles from your mouth before you can help it, and you freeze. having revealed yourself, you're overcome by the desperate urge to run—but, heeseung has given you nowhere to go. his weight traps you, holding tight and pressing harder by the second. half of you wants to hear him say it back, while the other hopes for the couch cushions to swallow you whole. heeseung—though not a man of many surprises with his perfect grades, perfect attendance, perfect everything—manages to stun you tonight.
"wan' you t'call me that again, [y/n]," heeseung mumbles through sleep, "please."
"you want—" your voice catches in your throat, "you want me to call you baby?"
there's a beat of silence so long that you're almost sure heeseung has fallen victim to the salivating jaws of sleep, but he groans. the utterance is low and deep—dripping with what seems to be a concoction of mild annoyance, exasperation, and endearment. "'s all i've ever wanted, [y/n]," he replies, eyes closed and nose buried into your sweater, "you're all i've ever wanted."
another pause.
"okay," you say, meandering through the quiet for a moment, letting yourself wade towards him in this new sea of possibilities, "baby."
PAIRING ! jake sim x reader // GENRE ! fluff // WC. ! 0.4k
PROMPT(S) ! 11. calling them nicknames ;; 12. winking at them ;; 17. looking in each other’s eyes // requested by two lovely anons <3 // 2k followers event
A/N. ! yesss another jakey fic hehe hope you guys enjoy <3
“jakey,” you called out before smirking mischievously, “wanna have a staring contest?”
your boyfriend looked at you, amused as he let out a playful chuckle, “y/n, be honest. i know you just want an excuse to stare lovingly into my handsome eyes.”
you laughed sarcastically at his joke, “as if. i just wanna see who can last longer without blinking, that’s all.”
“mhm,” he hummed, unconvinced, “yeah, sure. but are you okay to? i don’t want you to get all sad when you lose.”
“well, maybe it’s safer if you just give up then,” a sly smirk painted your lips, following your reply.
“game on, baby,” he challenged.
you two sat in front of each other, getting yourselves into position.
with your and your boyfriend’s eyes closed, you began counting down, “three. two. one.”
and immediately you two opened your eyes, staring into one another’s competitively.
and of course, you weren’t even ten seconds through before he began smirking playfully. it was obvious. he was loving this.
to him, your eyes were the prettiest in the entire world, and so even if you weren’t using this as an excuse to look into his eyes, this was definitely a good excuse for him to stare into yours.
once you two hit around the twenty-second mark, suddenly, jake winked at you with that same stupid smirk of his on his face.
“hey!” you started, interrupting the silence. “you lose!”
“no!” he quickly denied. “as i recall, winking isn’t actually blinking. so if anyone lost here, it would be you, since you literally just blinked.”
“i—no,” you said, making your best attempt to hide your growing smile. “it still counts.”
“you said the rules are whoever lasts longer without blinking wins, and so that would be me,” he said proudly, leaning in slightly closer until you could feel the gentle fans of his breath on your skin. “so what are you gonna do about it, loser?”
that stupid smirk was back, and you couldn’t help but stare.
and with that, you cupped his sharp jaw before leaning in closer to remove the gap, placing your lips on his in a passionate and loving kiss.
if this is what winning was like, expect jake to be proposing staring contests between you two very often.
A/N. still currently only thinking about ,,,, jake abs :’D ,,, someone help me im not ok :’D oh yeah also reblogs and feedback and jake pics are always appreciated :’D
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it's always the dance racha fics that get me crying in early mornings LIKE SGKEGSKWG
corona borealis, lfx
✧ genre/tw rambly soul-crushing fluff, one sweet kiss!!, lovely as a pet-name, felix being an undeniably sweet bf like always and hearing a bedtime story <3 , largely unedited.
✧ w/c 952 <3
✧ a/n definitely not brought on by asea felix are you kidding... he's so lovely i just had to dawdle on about it somewhere so here you go! also, the thought of telling lix a bedtime story makes me wanna cry i hope i'm not alone. mwah!!
His arm is hot around you, keeping you safe from the scary silhouettes the shadows bring, and the night is breathing. A group of you had come to this little campground for a night away from the city lights, and while the two of you are alone you can still hear the rest of the boy’s nighttime sounds mixing in with crickets and critters.
Your boyfriend stands beside you, listening intently as you tell him stories of the stars. Usually, these tales come from the comfort of your bed–rustling under covers and speaking into his mouth, sharing breath and love until you fall asleep, tracing false shapes in the plastic stars adorning your ceiling. But tonight, under the cover of a too cold darkness you tell him his bedtime stories beneath the sky.
His face is tilted up, looking to see where your fingers are pointing, and the soft glint in his midnight eyes makes you pause. You’ve never known someone who looked so alive, someone with a sun for a soul. Felix has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, alight with joy and senseless mischief–eyes wide with wonder at the constellations rising above him.
Looking at him is dizzying; that feeling when you put your arms out and spin so fast you fall, a carousel going so round and round. You feel like flying, rising up like the moment Icarus’ wings took him up and away.
Sometimes you wonder if it’s normal to feel like this… if everyone in love feels as though they are the creator, the inventor of such depraved desire and compassion for another. Surely, you must be the first–no one else had felt Felix’s fingertips on their skin or his lips sweetly drinking them in. How could someone say they’ve encountered a deeper love than this when your sweetheart is the embodiment of love, Venus as a boy.
He turns to you in your moment of hesitation, smiling at you with all the care in the world. He loves you endlessly, burns for you and the soft caress of your affection. You can tell he doesn’t know why you stopped speaking, but he’s happy just the same–sharing your space and time, living in this moment with you. He remembers the first time you told him a story, speaking the words softly, he thinks he fell in love right there.
“What’s that one?” he asks, catching your still raised hand in his own.
“Oh, it's a crown, see?” you can see his eyes tracing the points, finding the shape that connects the points together. “It’s Ariadne’s wedding tiara, she was a princess of Crete who helped Theseus slay her brother the Minotaur Asterion. After they escaped the labyrinth, the prince left her on the Island of Naxos where she was found by Dionysus,”
“He left her there?!” he gasps, your sweet boy forever confused by ill intentions, even in a story.
“Yeah, he’s so lame, right? Anyway, after the God finds her on his island they fall in love and eventually marry… the crown was her wedding present, and after she died Dionysus flung it into the sky to honor her.”
Felix is quiet for a long time after this, inhaling the story with all the deference you deserve. After every narrative he takes his time to think about how he feels about it: the first time you finished a movie with him and he was quiet for fifteen minutes before he told you he liked it, he is like that now. Quietly staring at the sky, not ignoring you for his hand still made its path up and down your arm and you know if you called his name he’d answer, but you don’t want to interrupt his silent seeking.
His life is noisy, spirited, and wonderful in all the ways a beautiful boy like him creates, your infatuation came in chaos–in mindless chatter and kitchen counter dance parties, but you fell in love in silence. In the moments when the world was quiet and all you could hear was his heartbeat, the drawling intake of his lungs filling and releasing. You adore his voice, but just existing with him, sharing the same air would be lovely enough for a lifetime.
Finally, after minutes of staring ahead, he speaks–softly but with no less intensity,
“If something were to happen to you I would make you into a constellation.”
His eyes, bright with longing stare into yours, and you know he’s not being funny. He means it with all of him, means it with every atom of his being.
Shocked and in love with him you laugh, bursting with fondness never hidden. “I love you too,” you say, for you know that's what he means. A love that spills from his veins whenever he thinks of you, so massive and consuming that the words aren’t enough. “I’d make a constellation for you too, it’d be the prettiest one in the whole sky.”
When he moves closer to you, you can feel the smile radiating on his shadowed face–sweeping his grin over the plane of your cheekbones. Scorching your skin where his lips touch, a traveling forest fire of kisses. When his journey ends, sliding his mouth over yours the flames grow, getting taller and taller as his caress goes deeper.
The night is chilly, but there is no need for a coat when his arms are around you–sweeping you into his embrace with only the stars to watch.
“Lets go to bed, lovely” he muttered, breathing through open-mouthed kisses and shared smiles. Leading you to where your tent lies, to where stories and sleep await you–love and life and dreams filled with him, your constellation of a boy.
© LUVTAK 2024
readinv this with 143 notes OKAY GOT ME CRYIBG
a/n: a little thing i scrapped from a fic i'm writing for my baby star @forlix :) i love you. i choose you. <333
“lix?” you ask, tentativeness lining the single syllable like even your voice knew that what you were about to say was a little silly. “why did you choose me?”
“what do you mean?” he hums, his fingers faltering on his keyboard as he tries to split his attention between you and the colorful pixels on the screen.
“like, why me? you could have had anyone you wanted,” you bite your tongue, not quite understanding why these words were coming out here and now.
“what do you mean.” he repeats, more of a statement than a question now, like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. he turns around completely, facing you and letting his character die a tragic death on the screen behind him. “are you serious?”
“i- no?” you sigh, not quite meeting his eyes. “yes. kind of? i don’t know.”
“y/n,” he rolls his chair close to you until your knees were touching, and he takes your hands in his, stopping you from wringing your fingers together. “it wasn’t a choice, you know that right? the stars brought us together, you’re mine in every way that i am yours.”
“right but,” you start, feeling grateful when he squeezes your hands in a silent go on, i’m here to listen. “if you could make that choice. if you didn’t want what the universe chose for you. then what?”
“if it was a choice to make, i would choose you every single time,” he slides off the chair, falling to his knees in front of you. “in every universe, in every reality, in every single world that exists, i choose you. over and over.”
“yes, but why?” and that is the root of it all - it was less of a deep rooted problem of insecurity and more of a lack of understanding.
“god, i love you,” he looks up at you, so reverent that you feel your breath catch on nothing. “you’re perfect for me. no matter how many flaws you think you have, you compliment me in every single way. i didn’t know someone like you could exist for me in this world, and if i ever lost you i’d spend the rest of my days alone because no one can compare to you.”
“you think of me like that?” you try to ignore the stinging in your eyes and the burning in your nostrils that signal that you were going to cry. you knew the answer; you felt that way about him, too.
“yes,” he says, simple and ringing with truth. “you’re my perfect little star, the one i wish on every night. i look up at the sun and i think of you simply because we live under the same one. i could go on but - do you understand, now?”
“i do,” you smile. and while looking at him, the moon that hangs bright in your night skies, you truly do understand.
—
soft hours
— SCENT CHANGE?
₊˚⊹ notes ~ bf!jake x fem!reader ⋆⭒ warnings: kisses ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 word count: 100+꩜⋆ ˚。⋆˚ genre: fluff, drabble | LIBRARY FOR MORE...
YOU'RE WRAPPED IN JAKE'S EMBRACE. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back. The scent of his cologne floats within the air.
As you lean into him, seeking solace in his embrace, you feel his warm breath tickle your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His lips brush against the delicate curve of your earlobe as he whispers softly, "I don't like your new shampoo."
You can't help but laugh at his words, "How'd you know?" you ask, turning your head slightly to catch a glimpse of his expression.
"It doesn't smell like you anymore," he replies, his lips pouted. "I miss the way your old shampoo smelled on you. It was... familiar."
You can't help but smile at his confession, touched by his attention to such small details. "Well, I can always switch back if it bothers you that much," you offer.
Jake tightens his hold around you, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "No, it's okay. I'll get used to it," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "Besides, it's not about the shampoo. It's about you. I love you, no matter what scent you wear."
You snuggle closer to him, reveling in the feeling of his presence beside you. "I love you too," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the beating of your hearts.