Generously, it’s unorthodox for Changbin to help you make your own Valentines gifts. Maybe that is somewhat offset by the fact that he isn’t much help at all, even going so far as to swipe his finger through the frosting in your bowl before you’re finished mixing it.
You gasp, mock-scandalized, batting his hand as it makes the journey to his mouth. “Hey!”
The diversion smears frosting sugar across his lip but he is seemingly undeterred, licking it clean all the same. “What?” Changbin complains anyway, pouting before his mouth is even fully closed. “It’s the cost of my services.”
His services have, thus far, included leaning on your measuring scale, stepping on your toes, and whisking your batter a little too long, clumps long-eliminated.
You aren’t thinking about any of that, though. “Really?” you tease. “One lick of frosting? Your rate is pretty low.”
Changbin spins you until your side presses to his front, his hands warm on your waist, his breath sweet as it brushes your cheek.
“I accept tips,” he mumbles — voice shy, cheeks flushed, eyes bright and eager — and kisses you.
Soohyun+MC, past fic:
It’s your job to find the movie tonight. Normally, this is an easy affair, because Soohyun has predictable tastes. She’ll watch almost anything but she lives for horror — any kind, any budget, as crummy as they come. Two months ago you found a site with more horror movies than you will ever have the time to watch, so you’re set. Easy as pie.
Except for one thing: Soohyun is terrified of ghosts.
Oh, and one other— Earlier today, Soohyun ate your last fruit jelly.
Soohyun maintains the stoic facade only until the premise is revealed. Then she whips around to face you, eyes wide, aghast.
You just glance over, perfectly innocent. “Something wrong?”
A moment passes as she studies you, clearly unsure if you’re being intentionally cruel or if her tough-girl facade is just better than she thought.
“No,” she says finally, stiffly sitting back, a pillow clutched in her arms, “nothing.”
She makes it 22 minutes.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” she bemoans, fingers digging into your arm, grip so tight her fingernails go white. “You’re so doing this on purpose, you observant, sadistic— Agh—!”
It’s a struggle to keep your snicker down as the jumpscare clears. Thankfully, Soohyun is in no state to watch your face.
“It’s okay if it’s too scary, Soohyunnie,” you say graciously, reaching for the laptop. “Here, I’ll turn it off, since you’re so scared—”
Her dumb knothead pride flicks back on. “No!” she says, righting herself again, letting go of your arm to choke out that pillow all over again. “No, it’s cool. I’m cool.”
She is decidedly not cool. She makes it another 7 minutes.
Soondoongdori fluff:
“I heard the dangley things are bad, though,” you say, eyeing the cat tree photo skeptically. It looks like a series of stacked mushrooms, which is a point in its favor. You’re not certain Minho’s parents will agree though, actually. “I know they can bat them around, but it’s a strangulation hazard. I read an article—”
Minho hums, rolling over until he’s lying mostly on top of you, your breath leaving you in a huff at the weight. The skin of his chest is warm against your similarly bare back, and you settle back into it without thinking.
“Look,” you say, zooming in on the photo so he can see: a little ball, dangling from one of the mushrooms— Ugh, it’s so cute— “This, here.”
“I don’t think it’s a problem,” Minho says simply, resting his chin on your shoulder. “They're big babies. It’s too short to wrap around them.”
“You might think that! But actually, it—”
You’re distracted by his hand, settling firm where your waist meets your lower back.
“We’ll cut it off, then,” he says, stroking the skin there, kissing your shoulder. “Problem solved.”
Already, you’re getting distracted — but you refuse to be completely waylaid. You’ve met his parents already, but you’ve never met his cats. You can’t exactly bring them flowers or fruit or a bottle of wine for a good first impression, so some toys and a piece of cat furniture is going to have to do.
“It’s new,” you argue, already breathless in spite of your internal proclamation to stay on task as his lips trail to your neck. “I can’t just— I’ll have just bought it. Oppa, take this seriously. Oppa.”
But Minho only surfaces long enough to nip your ear.
“I’ll buy it, then,” he says simply, and flips you over before you can argue.
Here's my humble token of appreciation for another wonderful fanfic: Sky Clear Blue (rated E) by klikandtuna, which, incidentally, has just wrapped up! :)
Colouring page and close-ups below the cut :D
Rules as usual: credit me and link to this post if you share your coloured version; don't erase my signature; don't tamper with the linework (recolouring is okay).
Finally, some close-ups and comparison to reference for Crowley's ridiculous trainers :)
