#minlighted

[minlighted]

📖 You Forgot Something

💌 Bang Chan × Reader

☁️ Genre: Fluff

📎 Warnings: none

📏 Length: ~1.9k

Masterlist

Requests are open!

“You forgot something!”

Your hand is already on the doorknob of his dorm when you hear his voice – warm, slightly rushed. You turn around, slightly surprised.

Chan walks up to you, his hair slightly messy from his studio headphones, sweater with sleeves rolled up, and a water bottle in his hand. His breathing is just a little heavier, as if he’s been running to see you.

“What?” you ask, taking a step back. You quickly check your bag: phone? check. Wallet? check. Keys? check.

Chan stops in front of you, grins, and slowly lifts his hand as if he’s holding something important – but there’s nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“This,” he says, and without further explanation he leans forward and presses a kiss to your lips. Soft. Warm. Purposeful.

You stand there for a moment, frozen. Not because of the kiss itself — that was familiar territory — but because of the moment. He did it like it was the most logical, necessary thing in the world.

You slowly look up at him.

“Seriously?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “You almost didn’t let me out of the house for a kiss?”

He shrugs, but his eyes are laughing.

“I can’t let you go without it.”

You laugh and shake your head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Hmm,” he says, his face exaggeratedly thoughtful. “I thought I was charming.”

“You’re a drama queen in slow motion,” you say, and he acts hurt.

But then, without warning, he gently pulls you back toward him. This time, it’s not a quick kiss. No rush. Just your forehead against his shoulder, his hand warm on your back. He rocks you back and forth a little as if the hall has suddenly become a quiet dance floor.

You close your eyes and sigh.

This. These are the moments when the world stops.

“I know you’re only gone for a few hours,” he mumbles, “but it still feels like a long time without you.”

“You’re going to sleep, Chan,” you say with a chuckle. “You won’t even notice.”

“Says you!,” he says dramatically. “But what if I wake up and you’re not there to steal my smoothie?”

You pull your head back a little. “Oh, so it’s about your smoothie?”

“That,” he says with a serious face, “and my heart.”

“Now you’re really bad.”

“And you like it,” he says, looking at you again — that look where everything seems softer, like he’s holding you with his eyes.

You pretend to sigh, but then smile immediately. “Maybe.”

He presses one last kiss to your lips and then lets you go.

“Okay then,” he says. “You can go now.”

You turn around, take a few steps toward the door, and then call over your shoulder:

“Chan!”

“Yes?”

“Next time... I'll forget something on purpose.”

He laughs out loud. “That's what I was hoping.”

[minlighted]

📖 Yours, Even If They Know

💌 Lee Know × Reader 📸 Genre: fluff, little angst 📎 Warnings: none 📏 Length: ~1.7k

Masterlist

Requests are open!

You knew what you were getting into.

That it had to remain a secret. That there would be looks. That Lee Know—Minho—was not just a boyfriend but someone’s bias. Someone’s ultimate dream. The Stray Kids dance leader with millions of eyes on him.

So you kept it small. Quiet. No public dates. No post on Instagram. Just… at home. In silence. Between walls that don’t tell anyone. Until today.

Your phone vibrates non-stop.

[“Is this really Minho's phone background?”] [“WHO is that girl on his lockscreen??”] [“Stray Kids' Lee Know spotted at the airport—fans zoom in on unexpected detail.”]

It starts with one photo.

Paparazzi, clearly taken from a distance, showing Minho just showing his boarding pass. His phone rests loosely in his hand. On the screen?

You.

A simple photo. You’re lying on the couch, hair messy, eyes closed and Soonie sleeping on your stomach. Minho had taken the photo a few weeks ago while you were sleeping and had set it as his background “so he wouldn’t forget how much peace you radiate.”

That was private. You were private.

Until now.

He calls you as soon as he lands. “Hey,” he says softly. No standard “I arrived safely.” No joke. No smile in his voice.

Just:

“I’m sorry.”

You swallow. “You don’t have to say sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“But you did,” he grumbles softly. “You look too beautiful in that photo.”

You laugh – despite everything. “Min.”

He’s quiet. You hear the echo of suitcases at the airport, a distant announcer’s voice.

“I knew it was a risk,” he says. “But I didn’t want to hide you from myself.”

“I know.”

“I… didn’t think they’d be this sharp.” His voice sounds frustrated now. “Who zooms in that deeply on someone’s lock screen?”

“People with too much time” you try to joke.

But you feel it too. That restlessness, that fragility. It's like your life is suddenly being torn open without your permission. It's like the whole world is seeing something that should have been yours alone.

That night he texts you.

[“I don’t want to hide anything I’m proud of.”]

You know what he means. That he’s had enough. That he doesn’t want to hold you in the silence anymore.

But that’s not up to him alone. Not when it comes to the both of you.

Your answer is short, but sincere:

[“I don’t want to be a secret. But I do want to be protected.”]

Minho reads it right away. No typing. No response. A few minutes of silence.

And then he calls. No FaceTime. Just his voice. Real. Calm.

“I promise,” he says, “I won’t let anyone take anything from you. I’ll let them look if they have to, but what we have, that stays ours.”

You close your eyes.

And for the first time today, you believe it.

You smile, tears pricking behind your eyes. “I love you,” you say softly. “I know,” he says. “I love you too. And now they know too.”

[minlighted]

☁️ Until you come back

Seungmin × female!reader

Genre: Fluff

Length: ± 3.6 k

The last week went by too fast.

You'd known for months that you were leaving—a few months back to your family in your home country. Your parents needed you. And though Seungmin understood, you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. The thoughts of saying goodbye, of distance, of living in different time zones…

It broke you.

And Seungmin?

He didn't say much. Not because it didn't bother him. But because he didn't have the words to make it any easier.

Instead… he was gentler. Quieter eyes, longer hugs. Hands that lingered on yours a little longer. An extra sweater on your bed. Little things.

"I know you have to go," he'd said the night before your flight. "But that doesn't mean I'm ready to miss you."

You couldn't say anything. You just rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes, your breathing matching his.

~

Now here you were.

Airport. Gate 26. Boarding in 20 minutes.

Your suitcase was checked in. Your passport was in your jacket pocket. Everything was taken care of. Everything except your heart.

Seungmin stood opposite you, his hood pulled low over his head, sunglasses on, mask half off. Yet you recognized every inch of him. His eyes. His silences. His silent love.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly.

You shrugged. “Not really.”

He nodded slowly. His hands were in his jacket pockets. He looked at your shoes.

“Did you bring the book?” he asked.

You smiled weakly. “Yes. And the playlist. And that one note you slipped in my notebook.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Don’t read during takeoff. You’ll cry.”

“Then I’ll cry anyway.”

He laughed softly, but it sounded hollow. His eyes shone. Not with tears. But with suppressed emotion.

“You know I’m going to miss you, right?” you said, reaching out your hand.

He took it immediately. Warmly. Firmly.

“I know,” he said. “And I know I have to let you go. But… that doesn’t mean I want to.”

You swallowed. The ground beneath your feet felt thinner.

“I’ll be back,” you whispered.

He nodded. “I’ll wait.”

You looked at the clock. 1:42 PM.

“I really need to—”

“I know.”

He let go of your hand, but stepped closer. His arms wrapped around you. Not fleetingly. Not gently. But completely. As if he was taking you in. As if he was absorbing you.

You felt his head on your shoulder. His breath on your neck.

“Don’t forget who you are there,” he whispered.

“I’m yours,” you said.

He pulled back slightly. His eyes looked into yours, soft and sharp at the same time. And then, without saying anything, he leaned forward.

His lips touched yours.

Not rushed. Not uncertain. But genuine. Warm. Quiet.

A kiss filled with everything he didn’t dare say. Everything he gave you, without saying it aloud.

When he slowly pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“Come back,” he whispered.

“Always.”

And then… the announcement of your flight.

You stepped back. One step, then another. He stood there. His hands in his pockets. His gaze on you.

You turned around.

Walked to the gate.

And at the last moment, just before boarding, you looked back.

He was still there.

Straight. Still.

And then he slowly raised his hand.

A small wave.

A promise.

The beginning of waiting.