SAY IT AGAIN 🤭
.𖥔 ݁ ˖🛸── .✦ about: MINHO’s confidence takes a hit when you call him oppa — and now he can’t stop blushing every time you say it.
YOUNGER GIRLFRIEND SERIES MASTERLIST
❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 🐰 ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜
Lee Minho wasn’t supposed to like being called “oppa.”
In fact, he used to hate the word. Too cliché. Too awkward. Too forced. He used to tease the younger members when they got all soft and bashful over being called that. Cringe, he’d say with a scrunched nose and rolled eyes.
So imagine his absolute horror when you — out of nowhere — casually called him “Minho-oppa” one night during your movie night at the dorms.
It had been innocent on your part.
“Minho-oppa, pass me the remote?”
Just like that. Casual. Effortless. Like you’d said it a hundred times before.
And Minho? He short-circuited.
Totally, completely malfunctioned.
He turned bright red, choked on air, missed the remote entirely, and tried to act like he hadn’t just been emotionally tackled to the floor.
“Are you okay?” you’d asked, confused and a little concerned.
“I—I’m fine. I’m good. I’m—don’t say that again.”
“Say what?”
“That. The ‘oppa’ thing.”
You grinned. “Why? It’s cute.”
“Exactly.”
You stared. He buried his face in a pillow.
But from that moment on, everything changed.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
At first, you respected his flustered request. You went back to calling him Babe or just Minho.
But you noticed the difference.
When you said “Minho,” he would blink a little too long. Look a little disappointed. Sometimes he didn’t even respond right away — like he was waiting for something else.
One evening, a few days later, you were sitting in the dorm kitchen. It was just the two of you. The rest of the boys were still out at practice, and Minho had stayed behind with you because of a sore ankle.
You were standing near the sink when you asked, “Hey, Babe, can you grab the rice from the cabinet?”
He didn’t move.
“…Minho?”
Still nothing.
You turned around and raised a brow. “Are you ignoring me now?”
He looked up slowly from his phone and gave you the most unimpressed expression.
“Why don’t you say it properly?” he muttered.
You blinked. “Say what properly?”
He looked you dead in the eye. “You know what I mean.”
And that’s when it hit you. Slowly, a teasing smile curled on your lips.
“…Minho-oppa?” you tried.
Instant.
His ears flushed pink. His hand immediately reached for the cabinet. “There we go.”
You gasped. “You like it!”
He frowned. “I don’t.”
“You totally do! You didn’t even flinch! That’s a lie—your whole face is blushing!”
“I’m not blushing. The lighting is warm.”
“Minho-oppa,” you said again, sweet and drawn out.
He slammed the rice bag down on the counter and pointed at you. “Okay, you’re banned from using it outside this apartment. Only here. Only when we’re alone.”
You grinned like you’d won the lottery. “So you do like it.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t deny it.”
He turned away with a groan. “I hate you.”
One night, you tried to tease him again. You were sitting beside him on the couch, legs tangled, a movie playing in the background that neither of you was really watching.
“Minho,” you said softly, poking his arm.
He didn’t respond.
“Lino,” you tried again, this time tapping his cheek.
Nothing. He kept looking at the screen.
“Okay, fine. Oppa.”
He immediately turned to you. “Yes, yeobo?”
You laughed out loud. “That was so fast.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You leaned closer. “Do you just want me to call you oppa from now on?”
He shrugged, a little too casually. “It’s respectful.”
“And if I call you Minho?”
He deadpanned. “Who’s that?”
You lost it.
“Okay, now you’re being ridiculous!”
Minho grinned, clearly pleased with himself. He reached over, pulling you gently into his lap, arms wrapping lazily around your waist as he nuzzled into the side of your neck.
“But really,” he murmured, “Just say it.”
You blinked, warmth blooming in your chest. “…Say what?”
He lifted his head, meeting your eyes with that rare softness only he gave you. “Say it.”
You bit your lip, leaning down just a little closer. “Minho-oppa?”
His breath caught.
And then he smiled, all smug again, but this time completely wrecked with affection. He leaned up, kissed your cheek, then whispered right against your skin,
“See? I told you. It sounds best when you say it.”
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
It had been an unspoken agreement.
You were allowed to call him oppa — but only when the two of you were alone.
Minho made it very clear. Crystal. Like, legally binding-level serious.
“If you say it in front of the guys, I will evaporate.”
“Do you understand me?”
So of course, it was only a matter of time before you forgot.
Not on purpose. Not malicious. Just... innocent and habitual.
Because Minho spoiled you. And now “oppa” slipped out like second nature.
You’d just finished lunch with the boys in the dorm kitchen. Everyone was winding down, plates stacked, drinks half-drunk, and the group’s usual post-meal teasing was already in full swing.
You were rinsing dishes with Minho beside you, sleeves rolled up, hands soapy and warm from the water.
You nudged him with your elbow, nodding to the plate he was holding.
“Can you pass the sponge, Minho-oppa?”
Instant silence.
You didn’t even register what you said — at least, not at first. You just took the sponge, turned back to the sink, and kept washing.
But Minho? Froze.
Eyes wide. Shoulders stiff. Soap dripping from his hand in slow motion.
Then came the sound.
A wheeze. A cackle.
A very specific “OOOOOHHHHHH—” that only meant one thing.
Jisung heard it.
“Wait—wait—did she just call you oppa?” Jisung gasped, nearly falling off his chair. “Did that actually just happen?”
You blinked.
And then it hit you.
Oh. No.
Minho turned toward you, expression horrified. “You didn’t—”
“I didn’t mean to!” you whisper-hissed, grabbing a towel like it could protect you from the storm.
“So that’s why he’s been acting soft lately.” Seungmin looked way too pleased.
Hyunjin leaned back in his chair, dramatically fanning himself. “Minho’s got an oppa complex? I’ve seen it all now.”
Chan tried to stay neutral — leader mode activated — but even he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “I mean… it’s kind of cute.”
“This is the worst day of my life.” Minho groaned into his hands.
“OPPA~,” Jisung sang, drawing out the syllables. “Pass me the kimchi, oppa~!”
“Stop it,” Minho mumbled.
“Oh my god, do you like it when she says it?” Seungmin grinned. “Is that why you only respond when she calls you oppa now?”
“DON’T TALK TO ME.”
You leaned toward him, face burning, but dying of laughter. “I swear I wasn’t thinking. It just slipped out.”
Minho turned to you slowly, dead serious. “We had rules.”
“I'm sorry!”
“You’ve betrayed me.”
“You’re being dramatic—”
“This betrayal cuts deep, yeobo.”
“OH MY GOD,” Hyunjin howled. “YEOBO?! You two are out of control.”
Jisung was halfway to recording a fake video skit. “Coming soon: ‘My Roommate Thinks He’s in a Romance Webtoon.’”
Chan finally gave up holding it in and started laughing too, shaking his head.
“Okay, okay,” you said, putting the sponge down, trying to salvage what little dignity Minho had left. “Let’s just forget it happened, yeah?”
The entire room blinked at you. And then,
“OPPA, FORGIVE US~” The boys. All. At. Once.
Minho nearly folded to the floor.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Later that night, after the teasing finally died down and everyone had gone to bed, you found Minho sulking dramatically in his room — hood up, blanket pulled over his legs, scowling at his phone like it had personally betrayed him.
You crept in and sat at the edge of his bed.
“…Still mad?” you asked softly.
He sighed without looking at you. “I had a reputation.”
“You still do.”
“Not anymore. They’re gonna call me oppa for weeks.”
You giggled, reaching out to tug the hood off his head. “You could’ve told them it wasn’t a big deal.”
“They would’ve known I liked it.”
You paused, smiling. “But you do like it.”
He didn’t answer. Just stared blankly ahead like he was fighting a war inside his soul.
You leaned down close, brushing your nose against his cheek. “Minho-oppa~?”
His ears turned bright pink. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” You kissed the corner of his mouth.
“…Fine,” he muttered, turning to pull you into his lap. “But from now on, oppa is exclusive.”
You raised a brow. “As in—?”
“As in only you can call me that. And only when we’re alone. Again. Forever. Never in public.”
“But what if I forget again?” You smirked.
Minho looked at you, eyes serious.
“Then I’ll kiss you in front of everyone next time.”
You blinked. “That’s a threat now?”
“That’s a promise.”
And judging by the mischievous glint in his eyes?
He meant it.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
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