Seungmin Fanfic - Blog Posts

I’m so glad you enjoyed it even if it was outside of your comfort zone! Thank you so much for the support 🥹🫶

─── ⋆⋅☆ CURIOUS PLEASURES ( xdinary heroes )

❛ Seungmin, intrigued yet apprehensive, tentatively asks you to explore new sexual experiences together after hearing about his coworkers' preferences.

𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.9k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 15 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ It took me a second to write this because I wasn't sure of how to start it, but I did it! This was requested by the amazing🍀 Anon! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, anal fingering (male receiving), blowjob, use of a vibrator, handjob, mentions of watching porn, established relationship, Non-Idol AU, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

As you leave your boyfriend’s workplace, Seungmin reaches for your hand. His touch is warm and familiar, grounding you in the present moment. The late afternoon sun dips low in the sky, casting elongated shadows along the sidewalk, and the two of you naturally fall into a comfortable rhythm, your steps matching as you head toward your usual spot—a quaint little ice cream shop a few blocks away. The conversation between you is light at first, filled with the small moments of your day, the kinds of things you always share during these evening walks. You notice that Seungmin seems a bit distant, his gaze unfocused as if he's lost in thought, but you decide not to press him, trusting that he’ll share what’s on his mind when he’s ready.  

When you reach the shop, the bell above the door chimes softly, its gentle sound blending with the soft murmur of conversations inside. You both head to the counter, Seungmin ordering his favorite flavor with a hint of his usual smile, and you choose yours. Finding a cozy booth near the window, you settle in, the sun’s golden rays filtering through the glass, casting a warm glow that dances across Seungmin’s cheeks, highlighting the soft flush that lingers there. As you sit across from him, you can't help but notice the subtle tension still lingering in his posture. He’s fidgety, his spoon stirring his ice cream more than he’s eating it. 

“What’s on your mind?” you ask after a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. You take a slow spoonful of your ice cream, eyes focused on him. You've learned to recognize the signs—the way his lips are slightly pursed, how his eyes dart around as if searching for the right words. 

Seungmin hesitates, his gaze flicking up to meet yours for a brief moment before dropping back down to his bowl. “So, um, today at the shop, Hyeongjun and Jungsu were talking about... something,” he says, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy. 

You raise a curious eyebrow, leaning in a bit closer. “Yeah? What were they talking about?”

His cheeks flush a soft pink, and he looks down, his spoon making small, aimless circles in his bowl as if he’s debating whether to continue or let the subject drop. After a few seconds of silence, he sighs softly, a bit of resolve settling in his eyes. “They were talking about... well, how they sometimes like it when their partners take control. You know, like being the one who... takes the lead in bed.” 

You blink, a bit surprised by the sudden turn into more intimate territory, but you feel a smile tugging at your lips. There’s something incredibly endearing about how he fumbles for the right words, his shyness evident in the way his cheeks redden further. “Really? And what did you think about that?” you ask gently, your tone encouraging as you watch his expression closely, trying to gauge his thoughts.

He shifts in his seat, clearly feeling a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. “I... I don’t know. I mean, I guess I never really thought about it as an option.” His voice drops even lower as he glances around the mostly empty ice cream shop, making sure no one is close enough to overhear. Then, he leans in closer, his face so near to yours that your breaths mingle, and you feel a slight shiver run through you. “They mentioned something about, um, using a strap and, well... it sounded kind of interesting.” His words come out in a whisper, his vulnerability palpable. 

For a moment, you’re caught off guard by his confession, but a soft smile forms on your lips. There's a rush of excitement at the unexpected turn of the conversation, a thrill that sends a warm flutter through your veins. “If it’s something you’re curious about, we can definitely try it whenever you want,” you reply, your voice gentle and reassuring. “I’d be more than happy to explore that with you.” You want him to know there’s no pressure, only a safe space to share and explore whatever he’s comfortable with.

Seungmin's eyes widen slightly, and his cheeks deepen to a lovely shade of crimson. His gaze drops back to his slowly melting ice cream, and he murmurs, “Really? You’d be okay with something like that? You don’t think it’s too... weird?”

Your smile softens into something more earnest as you reach across the table, placing your hand over his. “Of course, I’d love to try it out with you, my love. You should always know that I want to make you feel good. If that means stepping out of our comfort zones, then I’m always open to at least discussing it. We can start slow, see how it feels for both of us, okay?” 

Seungmin nods, his expression a beautiful mix of relief, nerves, and budding excitement. There’s a lightness to his eyes now, a sense of comfort and trust that wasn’t there before. The rest of your ice cream date continues with a more playful energy, the earlier tension melting away like the last bit of ice cream in your bowls.

As you walk home together, hand in hand, you sense a shift in the air—a quiet, almost electric anticipation that seems to vibrate between you. The evening light fades, casting soft shadows along the pavement, and the rhythm of your footsteps is steady yet filled with a subtle tension. Your mind swirls with a whirlwind of possibilities, considering all the ways you could begin this new and intimate journey of taking control with Seungmin in the bedroom. However, you quickly realize that, despite the rush of ideas, you don’t have the faintest clue where to start or what to do. A small comfort comes from the fact that this is as new for him as it is for you. Whatever happens next will be a learning experience for both of you—a shared exploration of uncharted territory.  

When you finally reach your shared apartment, Seungmin releases a deep breath, the kind that seems to settle from somewhere deep inside, as the two of you kick off your shoes at the entrance and shrug out of your thin jackets. His expression is distant, clearly still mulling over the conversation from the ice cream shop. You decide to give him space to gather his thoughts and head to the small kitchen, opening the fridge to retrieve a cold bottle of water to soothe your dry throat. The coolness of the bottle against your skin feels grounding, a sharp contrast to the heat building within you.  

Seungmin has followed you quietly, his presence a gentle shadow behind you. When you offer him the bottle, he takes a generous swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. Then, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a tentative courage: "I think I'd like to try... starting small. If that's okay."  

His words send a quickening pulse through your veins, your heartbeat drumming a little faster as it dawns on you that Seungmin is eager to explore this newfound curiosity much sooner than you had anticipated. You offer him a reassuring smile, finishing the last of the water before tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin. Gently, you take his hand, fingers intertwining with his as you lead him toward your shared bedroom. "We can definitely start with something simple," you say softly, your voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the apartment. "And we'll only go as far as you’re comfortable with."  

You turn to face him, your gaze soft but sensual, hoping to ease his nerves. Your hand comes to rest over his chest, where you can feel the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm. You’re about to guide him back toward the bed, a gentle pressure on his chest to encourage him to sit, but his eyes suddenly widen, and a flicker of panic crosses his face. He steps back quickly, his breath shaky, and his cheeks are flushed a deep, telling crimson.  

"Uh, I'm sorry—I just remembered something that the guys told me I had to do before doing any of this... Can you wait for me while I take a quick shower?" he asks, his words tumbling out in a rush. His eyes avoid yours, and you can see the embarrassment and nerves written all over his expression.

You can't help but furrow your brows, confusion evident as you tilt your head slightly to the side. Still, you nod silently, giving him the space he needs. Seungmin’s sudden sprint toward the bathroom would have been comical if it weren’t for the knot of anxiety and mild bewilderment tightening in your stomach. The bathroom is just down the short hallway, right next to the bedroom, and you hear the door close behind him, followed by the faint sound of water rushing through the pipes.  

With a soft sigh, you sit on the edge of your shared bed, feeling the anticipation build anew. Slipping your phone from the back pocket of your work pants, you decide to make use of the unexpected time alone. You navigate the internet with a mix of anxious curiosity and burgeoning excitement, searching for any ideas or suggestions on how to approach this new dynamic between you and Seungmin.  

Your eyes skim through informative websites and, eventually, a few more porn videos, your breath growing a little heavier as you delve deeper. With each click, each new insight, a slow, simmering arousal builds within you, blending with the thrill of the unknown. You can’t help but wonder why neither of you had brought up this possibility sooner, feeling the thrill of finally stepping into this unspoken desire for the first time. A smile tugs at your lips as you imagine the possibilities, your mind already spinning with thoughts of how you’ll guide Seungmin through this first experience, both of you ready to explore and discover together.

You're lounging on the bed, phone in hand, scrolling through the endless pages of information when the gentle patter of water from the bathroom reaches your ears. It’s a soothing, rhythmic sound, one that fills the room with a sense of calm anticipation. A few moments later, the door creaks open, and Seungmin steps out, the steam curling around him like a fine mist. A towel is wrapped snugly around his waist, clinging to his hips, while his hair, still damp from the shower, clings in soft, tousled strands that curl at the ends. Droplets of water trail from his dark locks, gliding down the curve of his neck and catching the soft light, leaving a shimmering trail along his freshly washed skin. His whole body seems to glisten, a fresh sheen of water still lingering on his toned form.  

He pauses in the doorway of your shared bedroom, a mix of nerves and excitement painting his cheeks with a rosy flush. There’s a sheepish yet giddy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and his eyes—wide, filled with an intriguing blend of trepidation and thrill—lock onto yours. His gaze is magnetic, pulling you in, and you can't help but return his smile, your heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and newfound confidence, now bolstered by the things you'd just learned online. You notice the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, the towel around his waist swaying slightly with the movement. There’s a playful unease in his posture—a hesitancy tempered with the eager curiosity of diving into something new and unknown.

Setting your phone aside, you rise from your spot at the edge of the bed, your eyes never leaving his. You close the short distance between you, a silent promise written in the intensity of your gaze. When you reach him, your hands find his, and you pull him into a deep, passionately reassuring kiss. He responds immediately, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that matches your own. As you gently nip at his bottom lip, a silent plea for more, he lets out a soft whimper that sends a rush of arousal through you. His lips part willingly, and you waste no time, your tongue slipping into his mouth, tangling with his in an intimate dance that deepens with every second.  

Without breaking the heated exchange, you guide him back toward the bed. His steps are tentative at first, but he quickly catches on, and you coax him down to sit where you had been moments before, right on the edge of the bed. As he takes his seat, you lower yourself onto your knees between his legs, using his knees to steady yourself. Only then do you break the kiss, pulling back just enough to search his eyes. You look for any signs of hesitation, of discomfort, but all you find is a new glint—a desperate need that you’ve never seen in him before.  

Unable to resist the pull of his swollen lips, you lean in and press a fleeting, tender kiss there, your lips lingering just long enough to leave a warmth behind. Then, you begin a slow, deliberate trail down his jawline, your lips grazing his skin in soft, teasing pecks that send shivers rippling through him. His breath catches, and when you reach his collarbones, you pause, knowing just how sensitive he is in that spot. The response is instant and intense; his hand tangles in your hair with a grip that borders on painful but stings in a way that’s oddly thrilling, while his other hand cups the back of your head, trying to pull you even closer, as if he can’t get enough.  

It takes a moment for you to remember that tonight, the power is yours. With a sly smile, you pull back from his collarbone, leaving him breathless, his eyes half-lidded with desire. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths, and a delicious sense of control surges through you. Moving with deliberate slowness, you reach down and take hold of both his wrists, guiding them to rest on either side of him on the bed. Seungmin’s eyes are glazed with lust, his chest still heaving, but he obeys, keeping his hands where you’ve placed them, though his fingers twitch with the instinctive urge to reach for you.  

There’s a delicious tension in the air—a fine line between his restraint and his yearning. His struggle to maintain control only heightens the atmosphere, and your smirk deepens as you lean back in, brushing your lips close to his ear, your breath warm against his skin as you whisper, “Tonight, you’re mine.” The words seem to electrify him, a soft gasp escaping his lips, and you can feel the thrill of anticipation building between you, ready to explode into something neither of you will soon forget.

Your tongue trails a slow, languid path down his chest and along his torso, leaving a glistening trail in its wake as you maintain a steady, lustful gaze on his face. His breath comes in soft, trembling pants, his chest rising and falling with each exhale. You relish in the way his eyes, half-lidded with desire, meet yours—a silent plea hidden within their depths. As you descend lower, you notice that the towel he'd wrapped around his waist after his shower has unraveled at some point, revealing the sight of his beautifully hard cock, already leaking with desperate arousal. The sight makes your own pulse quicken, and you waste no time in indulging him further.

You start with a classic approach, your tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles around his tip, savoring the salty taste of him as you listen to the soft, needy sounds that escape his lips. His breath hitches sharply as you take him deeper, letting the heat of your mouth wrap around him. His fingers curl into the sheets, knuckles whitening with the strain, and you can feel the way his hips fight to stay still beneath you, each twitch betraying his desire. Your pace is slow and deliberate, allowing him to fully immerse himself in the overwhelming sensation of your mouth, your hands, and the rhythmic undulation of your movements. His breathing grows uneven, each inhale shaky and filled with anticipation.

When you finally pull away, you revel in the sight before you: his cheeks flushed a deep pink, his lips parted as he pants for breath, and his eyes half-closed in a haze of pleasure. "I want to try something," you murmur softly, your voice low and teasing as you reach into the nearby drawer. His gaze follows your movements, widening slightly when he sees what you've retrieved—a small, sleek vibrator, the soft hum of it filling the room as you switch it to its lowest setting. There’s a flicker of curiosity mixed with a hint of apprehension in his expression, his eyes darting between the toy and your face. "Just relax," you whisper reassuringly, your tone a soothing balm against the charged atmosphere. 

You begin by teasing the vibrator along his length, pressing it gently against his shaft while continuing your ministrations with your mouth. His reaction is immediate and electrifying—his hips jerk slightly, and a sharp intake of breath escapes him, his voice caught somewhere between a moan and a gasp. It's clear he's never felt anything like this before, evident in the way his cock continues to leak, a steady stream of arousal that makes your own excitement build. You keep your movements steady and methodical, letting the vibrator explore all the sensitive spots along his cock, each touch drawing shivers and jerks from his body. A proud grin tugs at your lips as you watch his responses, the way his brows knit together, and his lips part to release soft, breathless moans.

As his pleasure builds, you decide to take things a step further. You move lower, cradling his balls in one hand—now drenched in a mix of his arousal and your saliva—while keeping the vibrator pressed against him with the other. He lets out a slightly high-pitched moan of surprise, his brows furrowing even tighter as his face contorts in sheer pleasure. "Does this feel good?" you ask softly, your voice a soothing caress as you watch his face closely for any sign of discomfort. He nods quickly, his voice catching in his throat as he manages a strained, "Y-yeah... feels really good." 

Encouraged by his response, you continue, your fingers gradually slipping lower to tease along his entrance. His breath hitches again, but this time there's an eager undertone, a breathless anticipation evident in the way he instinctively pushes his hips forward, silently begging for more. With a soft chuckle, you decide to tease him a little further. You make a show of spitting a generous amount of saliva onto your index finger, letting it drip and glisten in the dim light before applying gentle pressure, just the tip at first. He moans softly, his body tensing, his upper lip curling up in slight discomfort before he begins to relax. He leans back onto his forearms against the bed, and you take the opportunity to wrap your lips around his cock once more.

You take your time, keeping your finger still at first, letting him adjust. His breaths come in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to steady himself. All the while, you maintain eye contact, wanting him to feel safe, to feel cherished in this vulnerable moment. "You're doing so well, baby," you whisper, your voice soft and encouraging. "Just relax and enjoy it." With each careful thrust of your finger, with each glide of his tip against the back of your throat, with each slow, teasing movement of the vibrator against his shaft—his body begins to respond. His breaths grow deeper and more ragged, his hips moving in time with your rhythm. 

When you add a second finger, stretching him gently, he lets out a soft, almost whimpering moan, his entire body trembling as you find that sweet spot inside him. His reactions are raw and breathtaking—a beautiful mix of vulnerability and desire that sends an addictive rush of arousal through you. You relish the sight of him unraveling under your touch, his expression a mix of pleasure and desperation. You hope, with a deep yearning, that this won't be the last time you get to see him like this—completely at your mercy, lost in the overwhelming pleasure you're giving him.

As you continue your rhythm, his hips begin to move instinctively, chasing the pleasure you're giving him with every thrust and stroke. His body reacts to your touch like a finely tuned instrument, his soft gasps and breathy moans blending harmoniously with the low hum of your small vibrator. The room fills with a symphony of intimacy—lewd, wet sounds mingling with the ragged cadence of his breathing and the slick slide of your fingers moving in and out of his entrance. His body is alive with sensation, each jolt of pleasure pushing him closer to the edge. You can feel it in the way his cock twitches within your mouth, desperate and aching, and in the way his hands begin to reach out, searching for something—anything—to anchor himself to in this sea of pleasure.

Sensing his need for connection, you decide to turn off the vibrator, its quiet hum fading as you toss it aside. Instead, you take one of his trembling hands in yours, intertwining your fingers together. The simple touch is grounding, bringing him back to the present, and you give his hand a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that you’re right here with him. His breath stutters in his chest, and you take a moment to savor his reaction as you bob your head along his length, letting your tongue twirl and dance around him with deliberate slowness. You pull away with a soft, wet pop, your lips red and swollen, still brushing kisses along his shaft. “That’s it,” you murmur, your voice a hushed command, each word a warm breath against his sensitive skin that sends shivers coursing through him. "Let go for me, my love."

When you take him back into your mouth, your lips enveloping him in a warm, wet heat, he gasps, his body taut with anticipation. Your tongue teases the slit at his tip, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum, while your fingers work with a newfound urgency, picking up their pace as they curl and press, grazing his sensitive spot inside with precision. The effect is immediate and electrifying—his body tenses, his hips bucking slightly as he teeters on the brink. His moans grow louder, his breath more erratic, and you can feel his restraint slipping away. It doesn’t take long before Seungmin is coming undone beneath you, his release crashing over him like a wave. 

His body trembles violently with pleasure, his muscles clenching and relaxing in a rhythmic dance of surrender. His eyes flutter shut, and his lips part as a broken, breathless moan escapes him, echoing through the room. His fingers grip yours tightly, holding on as if afraid to let go, his trust in you deepening with every exhale. You feel a profound connection in this moment—a wordless understanding, a bond that transcends the physical. His vulnerability, his trust, his surrender—they are gifts, and you cherish each one as he loses himself in the intensity of his climax, feeling the weight of the intimacy shared between you.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @joosbasschick @xhfics (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

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📷 STILL FRAMES ( stray kids )

❛ After fainting during a photography class outing, you're tenderly cared for by a seemingly cold classmate, Seungmin, leading to an unexpected and heartwarming connection between the two of you.

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 30 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was written and completed a few months ago, but I recently found it and decided to share it with you guys! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Descriptions of being overheated, anxiety, and fainting, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

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The summer sun blazed with an intensity that bordered on cruelty, its golden rays casting a relentless furnace upon the cityscape. The air shimmered with the heat, every street and alley seemingly wincing under the oppressive glare. The heavens above were a fierce, unyielding expanse of cerulean, devoid of mercy or shade.

Amidst this searing trial, you navigated the urban labyrinth, your every step a testament to perseverance. Your digital camera, a faithful companion clutched in your hand, was your shield against the unrelenting heat. It was your instrument for capturing moments of beauty amid the starkness of summer’s tyranny.

As you trailed behind your classmates, each one a silhouette against the blistering backdrop, your gaze flitted with restless anticipation. You wandered through the city streets, your eyes seeking fragments of inspiration to breathe life into your assignment. The buildings rose around you like silent, stoic sentinels, their facades glistening with a harsh, metallic sheen. In the shimmering distance, you hoped for the elusive spark that would transform the mundane into something extraordinary.

The chatter of your classmates had long faded into a mere whisper, a distant hum that barely registered in the periphery of your consciousness. Conversations ebbed and flowed like an unremarkable current, a symphony of voices blending into a soft, indistinguishable murmur. Yet, this isolation was not an anomaly but a chosen retreat, a familiar haven you embraced with quiet contentment.

Surrounded by the bustling dynamics of camaraderie and friendship, you stood apart, an island of introspection amidst a sea of social engagement. It wasn't that you were unfriendly or aloof; your laughter often mingled with theirs, your voice joining the chorus of shared jokes and light-hearted banter before and after the structured rhythm of class. But when the subject turned to the art that captivated your soul, a transformation occurred.

Photography, to you, was not just a hobby but a profound and passionate pursuit. It demanded your full attention, a devotion that bordered on reverence. Your camera was not merely a tool but an extension of your vision, a conduit through which you sought to capture the world’s hidden beauty. The play of light and shadow, the fleeting expressions on faces, the intricate details of everyday objects—all of these were fragments of a larger, more intricate tapestry that you sought to weave with each click of the shutter.

In those moments, the world around you faded into soft focus, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your art. The bonds of friendship, though cherished, were momentarily set aside, replaced by a singular concentration that sharpened your senses and heightened your awareness. This solitary journey through the realm of photography was your sanctuary, a place where you found solace and inspiration in equal measure.

The only other person in this class who might share your penchant for solitude was Kim Seungmin. He, too, seemed to navigate the world with an air of quiet detachment. Yet, there were differences in how each of you manifested this introversion. While you made a concerted effort to connect with those around you—engaging in brief conversations and sharing moments of camaraderie when class was not in session—Seungmin was an enigma, a shadow that flitted away the moment the lecture ended.

Seungmin's presence in the classroom was a paradox of visibility and invisibility. He was always the first to arrive, slipping into the room with the quiet grace of dawn's first light. Despite his punctuality, he maintained a palpable distance from the rest of the group, an invisible barrier that set him apart. His demeanor, while not unfriendly, exuded a clear message of preference for solitude.

During the lulls and intermissions, when the classroom would usually be filled with animated discussions and the laughter of budding friendships, Seungmin could be found in a corner, absorbed in his own world. His fingers danced nimbly over his camera, adjusting settings, capturing candid moments, or meticulously reviewing his shots. At other times, he would be engrossed in his phone, the screen's glow reflecting the deep concentration etched on his face.

To you, Seungmin was a mystery, a puzzle wrapped in layers of quiet introspection. There was a certain allure in his aloofness, a silent invitation to unravel the story behind his reserved exterior. Yet, you never dared to cross the unspoken boundary that he had set. His solitary nature, so akin to your own, commanded a respect that you were unwilling to breach.

Seungmin remained a figure of curiosity, a fellow traveler on the path of photographic artistry who chose a parallel yet distinctly separate route. His quiet presence was a reminder of the myriad ways one could navigate the delicate dance between isolation and connection.

Despite his reserved and enigmatic demeanor, Seungmin possessed a rare and extraordinary talent for photography. His artistry behind the lens was nothing short of breathtaking, a fact that did not go unnoticed by anyone, least of all the professor. At the conclusion of each class, a ritual unfolded: the professor would meticulously review everyone's photographs, sifting through the myriad of images to select the ones that stood out the most. Without fail, Seungmin's work consistently earned a place among the top five, a testament to his remarkable skill.

Each of Seungmin's photographs was a revelation, an abstract masterpiece that captured the world through a uniquely creative lens. His ability to see beyond the ordinary and delve into the depths of the abstract added a layer of profound beauty to his images. Where others might see a simple street scene or a mundane object, Seungmin uncovered hidden dimensions and intricate patterns, transforming the mundane into the extraordinary.

His compositions were a symphony of light and shadow, each frame meticulously crafted to evoke emotion and provoke thought. There was an unmistakable depth to his work, a silent narrative that spoke volumes without uttering a single word. The interplay of colors, the juxtaposition of textures, and the harmony of forms all coalesced into visual poetry, each photograph a verse in the grand tapestry of his artistic vision.

The professor, a seasoned connoisseur of photographic art, often marveled at Seungmin's ability to convey such profound beauty through his images. His praise, though sparing, was always effusive when it came to Seungmin's work. "A true artist," he would often muse, holding up one of Seungmin's photos for the class to admire. "His eye for detail and his innovative approach are truly remarkable."

Seungmin's talent was unmistakable, a beacon of brilliance that shone through the veil of his quiet, self-imposed solitude. Each photograph was a testament to his exceptional ability to capture the essence of the world around him, a gift that set him apart and elevated him to the ranks of the truly gifted. In his hands, the camera became not just a tool but a portal to a realm of infinite beauty and wonder.

The dryness in your mouth abruptly pulled you from the intricate web of thoughts weaving around your enigmatic classmate, who now lingered at the back of the group, his camera poised to capture yet another fleeting moment. The parched sensation nagged at you, growing more insistent with each passing second. You reluctantly tore your gaze away from Seungmin, reaching into your backpack in search of your water bottle.

As your fingers fumbled through the contents of your bag, your eyes remained vigilant, scanning your surroundings to ensure you wouldn’t stumble over any unexpected obstacles. The bustling city around you was a blur of movement and color, but you couldn’t afford to let your guard down, not even for a moment.

Finally, your hand closed around the cool plastic of your water bottle. Relief washed over you, but it was short-lived. Your heart skipped a beat when you unscrewed the cap and peered inside, only to find a single, solitary sip left. The realization that your meager supply of water was almost depleted sent a ripple of anxiety through your chest. The class was far from over, and the sweltering heat showed no signs of relenting.

A wave of apprehension washed over you, prickling at your chest like tiny, invisible needles. You finished the last sip, the tepid water doing little to quench your thirst, and tried to steady your racing thoughts. With a shaky breath, you reassured yourself that you could endure the remaining time. Surely, there would be a place nearby where you could refill your bottle.

Determined not to let the anxiety take hold, you pressed on, reminding yourself that the city was vast and filled with countless opportunities. Somewhere among the winding streets and towering buildings, an oasis of hydration awaited. All you had to do was stay focused and keep an eye out for that small but vital reprieve.

The merciless sun, as if sensing your growing anxiety, seemed to blaze even hotter, its relentless rays wrapping you in a suffocating embrace. Beads of sweat clung to your skin in a sticky shimmer, making each movement feel laborious and sluggish. Despite the discomfort, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand. Your eyes roamed the cityscape, seeking inspiration amidst the familiar charm of the urban sprawl.

You recalled the instructions given by your professor before the class set out on this journey. Find something that has two textures that contrast each other, and find a way to make them complement each other in your photo. It seemed a simple enough directive, especially considering the rich tapestry of your surroundings. Yet, the sun's unyielding assault made concentration an arduous endeavor.

As you navigated the bustling streets, your gaze flitted over the varied textures that adorned the city. Rough, weathered brick walls stood in stark contrast to the sleek, reflective surfaces of modern glass buildings. The interplay between the old and the new, the rugged and the refined, offered endless possibilities for your photographic assignment. But the oppressive heat made it difficult to hold onto any coherent thought for long.

The thirst that had been barely quenched earlier resurfaced with a vengeance, its gnawing intensity magnified by the knowledge that your water bottle was now empty. Your mouth felt as dry as the arid pavement beneath your feet, and each swallow seemed to scrape against a parched throat. Anxiety prickled at the edges of your consciousness, threatening to overwhelm your resolve.

You scanned the area for potential sources of relief, hoping to spot a fountain, a café, or any place where you could refill your bottle. The city, though familiar, seemed an endless expanse under the punishing sun. Every step felt heavier, the weight of your camera pressing down on you like a leaden reminder of your mission.

Yet, amidst the discomfort and the thirst, you remained determined. You sought the contrasting textures your professor had described, letting your eyes linger on the juxtaposition of smooth marble and rough concrete, or the way a delicate flower pushed through a crack in the asphalt. There was beauty to be found here, even in the harshest of conditions.

With a deep breath, you resolved to keep going, trusting that your perseverance would lead you to both the perfect shot and the much-needed water. The city, with all its contrasts and complexities, held the promise of discovery, if only you could endure a little longer.

"It’s so hot," you vaguely heard a classmate complain, her voice barely cutting through the heavy, sweltering air as she fanned herself with a weary hand. The others nodded in weary agreement, their faces etched with the shared misery of enduring the relentless sun. "We should all go for some ice cream after this," she suggested, a hint of hope sparking briefly in her eyes.

The idea of ice cream, cool and refreshing, was undeniably appealing. Yet, you didn’t dare voice your thoughts. The fear of worsening your situation held your tongue, a silent specter of anxiety that kept you from speaking up. As you glanced around at your classmates, their faces blurred by the heat, a flicker of desperation ignited within you.

You tried to remember if you had informed anyone about your fainting spells, but your mind drew a blank. The memories were elusive, slipping through your mental grasp like water through a sieve. The thought of revealing your vulnerability gnawed at you, and although you knew you should at least ask if anyone had spare water, your anxiety clung to you like a vice, rendering you silent at a moment when you needed help the most.

The world around you seemed to shimmer and waver in the oppressive heat, the vibrant colors of the city dulled by the haze of your growing discomfort. Your throat felt like sandpaper, each breath a laborious effort. The idea of speaking up, of asking for something as simple as water, felt insurmountable. Your classmates, though kind and considerate, seemed distant and unreachable in your moment of need.

Silent, you continued to endure, your thoughts a turbulent mix of desperation and fear. The sun beat down with unwavering intensity, each ray a reminder of your growing thirst and vulnerability. You scanned the faces around you, searching for a flicker of understanding, a sign that someone might notice your distress without you having to voice it.

But no such sign came. The conversations continued, the suggestions of ice cream and relief from the heat weaving through the group like a distant promise. You swallowed dryly, your silence a heavy burden, and resolved to press on. The city held the promise of respite somewhere, and you clung to the hope that you could find it before your strength gave out.

The more you pushed forward, the more acutely aware you became of the blood coursing through your veins. It was as if each heartbeat reverberated in your ears, amplifying the sense of impending dizziness. The city's vibrant energy seemed to swirl around you, the once steady ground beneath your feet now an unpredictable, undulating surface.

As the sensation of spinning grew more intense, you reluctantly allowed yourself to fall behind the group. You sought refuge against the cool, reassuring solidity of a nearby building, leaning against its weathered facade. Taking deep breaths, you tried to steady yourself, inhaling the warm, sun-baked air and exhaling slowly in an attempt to calm the storm within.

Your classmates, absorbed in their own artistic quests, continued on without noticing your absence. This anonymity, usually a comfort in your solitary pursuits, now only served to heighten your anxiety. You couldn't blame them for their oversight; it was common for someone to linger behind, captivated by a potential photograph. Still, the reality of being unnoticed in your moment of need felt like an invisible weight pressing down on your chest.

You closed your eyes briefly, trying to focus on the rhythm of your breathing, hoping it would anchor you in the present moment. The sounds of the city buzzed around you—distant conversations, the hum of traffic, the occasional birdcall—creating a cacophony that both grounded and overwhelmed you.

Opening your eyes, you glanced at the receding forms of your classmates, their laughter and chatter fading into the background. The distance between you and them felt insurmountable, not just in physical space but in the gulf of your unspoken struggle. You pressed your back more firmly against the building, feeling the rough texture of the brick through your thin shirt, a small reminder of the world outside your internal chaos.

You knew you needed to rejoin the group, to press on and complete the assignment, but the dizziness and rising anxiety made the thought of moving almost unbearable. You considered calling out, asking for help, but the words stuck in your throat, trapped by the fear of appearing weak or needy. Instead, you remained silent, hoping that your moment of respite would be enough to regain your composure.

Your body shivered uncontrollably despite the oppressive heat, a strange and unsettling contrast that heightened your sense of unease. The world around you seemed to blur and waver, your vision losing focus at an alarming pace. Each step felt like wading through thick, invisible molasses, and even the simplest movement became a Herculean effort. Despite this, you managed to lower yourself to the sidewalk, the rough pavement a harsh but necessary support.

You concentrate on your breathing, each inhale and exhale a desperate attempt to anchor yourself in the here and now. Yet, the ringing in your ears grew louder, a piercing sound that drowned out the city's ambient noise. It was a familiar, dreaded precursor to the fainting spell you knew was imminent, a relentless force poised to take control.

In the midst of this growing chaos, a voice pierced through the din, a lifeline in the swirling haze. "Hey, are you okay?" someone asked, their concern clear even through your muddled senses. The effort to lift your head and identify the speaker was beyond you; the world had narrowed to a tunnel of indistinct shapes and sounds.

You tried to respond, to assure them or perhaps to call for help, but your words dissolved into a string of incoherent babbles. Your tongue felt thick and uncooperative, your mind struggling to form coherent thoughts as the darkness edged closer. The last thing you registered was the overwhelming sense of vulnerability, the realization that your body was betraying you in this critical moment.

As the blackness enveloped your consciousness, you felt a profound disconnect from the world around you. The sounds, the heat, the distant figure of your classmate—all faded into a void, leaving you suspended in an abyss of nothingness. The struggle to stay present, to remain in control, slipped through your grasp like sand through your fingers.

In this void, time ceased to have meaning. Seconds or minutes, it was impossible to tell how long you lingered in that state of unconsciousness. The city, with its vibrant life and relentless sun, continued on without you, a stark reminder of your fragile existence.

When you finally awoke, it felt as though you were emerging from a dense fog, your mind struggling to piece together the fragmented reality around you. The disorientation was palpable, each moment stretching as your senses slowly reconnected with the world. Your head rested on someone’s lap, and though he was turned away, his presence was both unfamiliar and comforting in your vulnerable state.

Sounds began to filter through the haze, grounding you further. The low, urgent tone of the voice above you became clearer, barking orders with a mix of authority and concern. "Get some water!" Though you couldn't see who he was addressing, the urgency in his commands cut through the remnants of your confusion.

As your awareness sharpened, you noticed your arms were held aloft above your head. This small detail triggered a memory from your past, a practice you had shared with others in case your lips ever turned blue—a sign of your body’s desperate need for oxygen. The position was meant to untie the invisible knot in your lungs, allowing air to flow more freely and ease your breathing.

With this realization, a wave of gratitude washed over you. Even in your disoriented state, you recognized the significance of this gesture. The person cradling your head had either known or intuitively understood what to do, providing a lifeline in your moment of need.

You tried to speak, to express your thanks or perhaps to reassure the person helping you, but your voice was weak and unsteady. The effort drained you, and you opted to focus on your breathing, each inhale and exhale a conscious act of reclaiming control over your body.

It wasn’t until a groan escaped your lips that the person holding you turned to face you. Instantly, your face flushed with a deep wave of embarrassment upon recognizing him—it was Seungmin. The reassuring smile he sent your way was a beautifully rare sight, and for a fleeting moment, you felt your heart skip a beat. His lips moved, forming words that your still-dazed mind struggled to comprehend.

You blinked up at him, trying to focus, but the words eluded you. Noticing your confusion, Seungmin pursed his lips and turned to someone out of your line of sight. Almost immediately, a cold bottle of water with a straw was handed to him. He settled it gently by your head, positioning the straw so you could drink. The sensation of the cool water on your parched throat was heavenly, and you drank greedily, almost draining the bottle before you realized it.

Seungmin chuckled softly at your eagerness, the sound light and comforting. You felt your cheeks heat up again and averted your gaze, unable to meet his eyes. Despite your embarrassment, the relief from the water was undeniable. Your head cleared a bit more, the world coming into sharper focus.

Seungmin continued to watch over you, his expression a blend of concern and gentle amusement. His presence, usually so distant and enigmatic, now felt unexpectedly comforting. The awkwardness of the situation didn’t diminish the warmth of his care, and you felt a small surge of gratitude.

As you finished the last of the water, Seungmin reached out to steady the bottle, his fingers brushing against yours. The contact sent a jolt through you, but it was grounding, a reminder that you were not alone. He murmured something softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. Though the exact words were still lost to you, the intent was clear—he was there for you.

Gradually, the ringing in your ears subsided, and your breathing steadied. You risked a glance back at Seungmin, who was now focused entirely on you, his eyes full of quiet resolve. The vulnerability of the moment hung between you, unspoken but deeply felt.

You tried to muster a smile, a small token of thanks. Seungmin's eyes softened, and he returned the smile, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, the barriers of his usual aloofness seemed to fall away, revealing a depth of kindness that you hadn’t seen before.

Gradually, your hearing began to reawaken, stitching itself back together with your muddled senses. The familiar symphony of the bustling city—a cacophony of distant car horns, murmured conversations, and the steady hum of urban life—slowly emerged from the background noise, anchoring you to the present moment.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” Seungmin’s voice cut through the haze, his tone edged with concern as he noticed your growing awareness. You managed a shaky nod, your head still spinning slightly. His brows were knitted together in a deep frown, a tangible expression of his worry.

“Can you sit up, or do you need to stay down a little longer?” he asked gently. “There’s no rush. Please, stay there if you’re still feeling dizzy.”

With a quiet determination, you placed your hands onto the pavement, the rough texture grounding you as you clumsily pushed yourself away from him. Seungmin’s steadying presence guided you with careful hands, helping you to lean against the same building you had previously sought solace from before losing consciousness. You groaned softly, closing your eyes to escape the persistent whirl of the world around you. When you reopened them, the dizziness had ebbed, though remnants of the earlier chaos lingered at the edges of your vision.

In front of you stood a middle-aged man, his apron stained with grease and his hands clasped together in a gesture of concern. His eyes were fixed on Seungmin, waiting for instructions, his face etched with worry for your well-being. The weight of his concern was palpable, and it added another layer to the unfolding scene.

Seungmin exhaled deeply, a sigh that seemed to release the tension of the moment. He settled himself beside you, his posture relaxed yet attentive. He wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them close to his chest, and his gaze remained focused on you with an almost protective intensity.

The ambient noise of the city continued to swirl around you, but in this small, sheltered space, it felt as though time had slowed. Seungmin’s presence was a steady anchor amidst the chaos, his concern a quiet reassurance that you were not alone. The man in the greasy apron lingered nearby, ready to assist at a moment’s notice, his worried gaze shifting between you and Seungmin.

The world slowly regained its equilibrium, the spinning sensation giving way to a more stable awareness. The tenderness of the pavement beneath you and the warmth of Seungmin’s concern combined to create a cocoon of comfort, allowing you to regain your composure and begin to piece together the events of the past moments.

“How are you feeling?” The middle-aged man’s voice was gentle, his eyes darting between you and Seungmin with a mixture of concern and kindness. “You should eat something. Come inside—whatever you get is on the house.”

A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over you, coloring your cheeks a deep red. You felt a pang of guilt for having worried such a considerate stranger. Just as you were about to politely decline the generous offer, Seungmin’s voice intervened with a firm yet caring tone.

“I agree, Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying a note of unwavering resolve. “You need to eat something after fainting like that. Let’s go inside.”

Seungmin’s tone left no room for argument, the decisiveness of his words compelling you to acquiesce. You sighed softly, nodding in acceptance. The man’s face lit up with a wide grin, clearly pleased by your agreement. With a quick, eager step, he rushed into the restaurant behind you.

Seungmin rose swiftly, brushing off any imaginary dust from his clothes with a swift motion. He extended his hands towards you, his expression one of quiet encouragement. You hesitated for a moment, then grasped his warm hands. The touch was gentle, and a subtle tingle spread through your fingers, a physical reminder of his comforting presence.

Though you felt more stable now, Seungmin’s hands remained hovering near your waist, a silent gesture of support as you made your way inside the restaurant. His protective stance was reassuring, a steadying force guiding you through the threshold.

The restaurant’s interior greeted you with a comforting embrace—a cool respite from the heat outside. The space was warmly lit, with the soft hum of conversation and the tantalizing aroma of food creating a cozy ambiance. 

The tantalizing aroma of Korean comfort foods wafted through the air, weaving its way into your senses and causing your stomach to rumble in eager response. Each fragrant note of sizzling meats, simmering stews, and freshly steamed vegetables seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace, making you profoundly grateful for both the man's generous offer and Seungmin's insistence.

Seungmin guided you with gentle assurance to a table nestled at the far end of the restaurant, where the hum of conversation was softer and the space felt more intimate. The dim lighting at this secluded spot cast a gentle glow, creating a cocoon of warmth and comfort. He carefully pulled out your chair, his movements measured and considerate, and nudged you forward slightly to ensure you were settled. With a courteous smile, he then made his way around the table, taking his own seat directly across from you.

His smile was a touch awkward, a charming contrast to the seriousness he had shown earlier. He glanced around the room, searching for the man who had so kindly attended to you, only to spot him approaching with a welcoming presence. The man carried a bottle of water and two menus, the promise of nourishment and choice clearly reflected in his hands.

As he reached the table, he placed the items before you with a friendly nod. You accepted the bottle and menus with a grateful bow and a warm smile, your heart swelling with appreciation for his kindness. The bottle of water was cool to the touch, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the restaurant, while the menus promised a delightful array of dishes.

Seungmin’s gaze softened as he watched you, his concern now mingled with a gentle sense of relief. The atmosphere around you seemed to ease, the initial tension giving way to a shared moment of calm. As you began to peruse the menus, the delicious scents and the comfort of the setting enveloped you, making you feel more at ease and ready to enjoy the simple pleasures of a meal with someone who had shown such unexpected care.

The air between you was thick with awkwardness, a palpable sense of uncertainty hanging in the space after such an intensely personal moment. You busied yourself by fixating on the vibrant images on the menu, using them as a comforting distraction from the lingering embarrassment. Each picture of steaming bowls of soup and colorful plates of food seemed to blur together, a vivid kaleidoscope that kept your eyes occupied and your mind from dwelling on the recent upheaval.

After a period of shared silence, you both placed your orders, the clatter of menus and the murmur of your choices filling the brief lull. There was no longer any barrier between you and the reality of the situation. With a deep breath, you gathered your courage and, in a voice softer than you intended, you managed to say, “Thank you.” Your eyes remained firmly fixed on the table, refusing to meet his gaze, as your cheeks and ears flamed with a blush of sincere embarrassment. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could almost feel his warm, understanding smile directed at you.

“You don’t have to thank me at all,” Seungmin replied, his voice infused with genuine sincerity. “I hope you don’t mind, but I texted the professor to let him know what happened, so he’s aware we won’t be finishing the class with everyone else today.” His words were a pleasant surprise, causing your eyes to widen slightly as you briefly met his gentle gaze. The kindness of his gesture momentarily pierced through your discomfort, but you quickly looked away, your shyness reasserting its hold.

In response to his concern, you offered a grateful nod and a shy smile, the simplest acknowledgments of his thoughtfulness. The question he posed next was gentle, yet it carried an undercurrent of genuine concern. “Do you pass out often?”

At his question, you let out a soft, resigned sigh, the sound almost like a whisper of the weariness you felt. “Sometimes,” you began, your voice barely more than a murmur. “It’s been happening since I was a child, though no one seems to know why. I’ve been checked for things like epilepsy, but they haven’t found anything.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, each syllable revealing a fragment of a long-standing uncertainty.

Seungmin’s gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes filled with a deep, attentive concern as he absorbed each word with tender care. His silence was a soothing balm, a quiet testament to his empathy. As you recalled the moment he had lifted your arms, a question escaped you almost impulsively: “How did you know to lift my arms?”

His initial reaction was one of surprise, his eyes widening as he blinked at your sudden inquiry. But the astonishment quickly softened into a shy, almost hesitant smile. “Oh,” he began, his voice gentle. “My mother also had fainting spells, usually when it was too hot or if she had an injury.” His revelation was accompanied by a look of nostalgia, a subtle hint of the personal connection he felt to the subject.

You were taken aback once more by this shared experience. “Your mother sounds a lot like me,” you responded, your tone light but tinged with genuine reflection. “I also faint for similar reasons—when I’m overheated or emotionally overwhelmed.”

A serene silence settled between you as Seungmin gave a thoughtful nod, his eyes drifting into a distant gaze that spoke of deep, unspoken reflections. The quietude was a gentle cocoon, wrapping around both of you as he lost himself in the labyrinth of his thoughts.

You turned your gaze to the window beside you, your eyes tracing the hurried figures moving briskly down the bustling street. Each passerby was a blur of motion and color, a stark contrast to the stillness enveloping your corner of the restaurant. The scene outside seemed almost surreal, a vivid tapestry of urban life against the backdrop of your subdued conversation.

Soon, the soft clinking of dishes announced the return of the man from behind the counter. He placed your meals before you with a warm, welcoming smile, the steam rising from the dishes creating a fragrant mist that made your mouth water in eager anticipation. You bowed in gratitude, your appreciation for the meal palpable in your respectful gesture.

With a mixture of impatience and hunger, you watched him take his first bite, his expression shifting to one of satisfied pleasure. Unable to resist any longer, you dove into your own meal, an involuntary sigh of delight escaping your lips as the flavors danced on your palate. Each bite was a revelation, the taste a symphony of comfort and culinary excellence.

In moments like these, the silence between you and Seungmin felt less like an awkward void and more like a shared, unspoken agreement. The simple act of enjoying a meal together, coupled with the mutual understanding forged through your earlier conversation, made the quiet a soothing presence rather than an uncomfortable gap. The gentle hum of the restaurant’s ambiance and the shared pleasure of the food created a cocoon of calm, transforming the once-unbearable silence into a space of peaceful companionship.

As the last morsels of your meal were savored, a lull settled between you, allowing your mind to finally formulate a conversation starter. You swallowed your bite with a mix of anticipation and nervousness before glancing up at Seungmin. His features were softened in concentration, his gentle demeanor captivating as he focused on the last remnants of his dish.

“So,” you began tentatively, your voice betraying a hint of shyness, “how did you get into photography?” The simple question was laden with curiosity and the desire to connect, and as his eyes met yours, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Seungmin’s initial silence was a quiet contemplative pause, his gaze tracing the lines of your face with a thoughtful intensity before he began to speak. “My grandfather passed away from Alzheimer’s,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. The weight of his words seemed to settle heavily in the space between you, and your heart tightened with a pang of empathy.

He continued, his tone imbued with a delicate sadness. “He always spoke so fondly of my grandmother, who died before I was born. He used to thank her for her love of photography because it helped him hold onto who he was and the life he lived for a long time. To keep his memories vivid, I started taking pictures of everything around me. I had them developed so he could have tangible memories to hold onto—hundreds of photos of myself, my parents, my cousins, but also of the places I cherished: my room, his house, my house…simple, everyday moments that mattered to him.”

The silence that followed was heavy, laden with the significance of his words. You struggled to find the right response, your mind racing to articulate the depth of your feelings. Seungmin’s smile was tinged with a bittersweet nostalgia as he turned his focus back to his meal, leaving you in a space filled with reflection.

After a few moments, you finally found your voice, your tone warm and sincere. “That’s incredibly sweet, Seungmin. I think it was very noble of you to do that for your grandfather.” His response was a soft grin, his cheeks flushing a delicate pink as he swallowed. The sight of his smile, so genuine and heartfelt, made your heart swell with an emotion that was both tender and profound.

In that moment, Seungmin’s vulnerability and kindness transformed your perception of him. The image of his earlier aloofness seemed to fade into a distant memory, replaced by a newfound appreciation for the depth of his character. His quiet grace and the meaningful gesture he shared painted him in a more beautiful light, revealing layers of compassion that drew you closer to him.

As the last remnants of your meal were savored, Seungmin turned his attention to you with a curious gleam in his eyes. “What about you? How did you get into photography?” he inquired, his voice gentle and inviting. You had finished your meal shortly after him, the shared silence now ripe for deeper conversation.

You gave a shy shrug, a soft chuckle escaping your lips as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I fear my story is not as sweet as yours,” you began, your tone light yet introspective. Seungmin’s playful roll of his eyes and encouraging nod urged you to continue, a subtle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Well,” you continued, your gaze drifting as you recall your past, “my mother always bought magazines whenever she went grocery shopping, so our house was filled with stacks and stacks of them.” A nostalgic smile crossed your face as you painted a picture of your childhood. “I remember being a child, endlessly flipping through those magazines whenever boredom set in. I would get lost in the pages, captivated by the photographs. They seemed to tell stories of their own, each image a window into a world I found enchanting.”

Your voice grew softer, imbued with a gentle warmth as you shared how that fascination evolved. “One day, I decided to try my hand at capturing my own moments, inspired by those images I loved so much. What started as a simple curiosity quickly became a cherished hobby. The camera became a means for me to explore and create, and somehow, it just stuck with me.”

As you finished, you looked up to find Seungmin’s eyes still fixed on you, his expression a blend of interest and appreciation. The connection you felt through the shared conversation seemed to deepen, the personal stories weaving a tapestry of understanding and mutual respect. In the dim light of the restaurant, the simple act of sharing your paths through photography brought a new layer of intimacy to your budding friendship, making the quiet moments between you all the more meaningful.

“I think it’s cute,” Seungmin remarked with a lighthearted chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. The unexpected compliment made your cheeks flush with a delicate shade of pink, a mix of surprise and shyness coloring your reaction.

“You’re a good photographer, by the way,” he added, his eyes twinkling with sincere praise. 

The words hung in the air like a soft melody, but you couldn’t help but scoff, rolling your eyes in an exaggerated manner. “I’ve made it to the professor’s top five favorites only twice since I joined his class last year. You’re always the one receiving accolades for your work, which, I must admit, are truly remarkable.”

Seungmin’s gaze remained steady, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I think it’s a bit unfair for you to view it that way,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm. “The whole idea of being in someone’s top five is a flawed measure of talent. It’s based on one person’s subjective preferences and doesn’t truly reflect our abilities. While I’m grateful for the recognition, I’ve seen your photos and always found them to be exceptional.”

He continued, his words flowing with thoughtful consideration. “You have a remarkable skill for capturing unique subjects in their most authentic form. It’s a talent to reveal their essence so clearly, especially within the constraints of our assignments. It’s something I find quite impressive and not easy to achieve.”

The sincerity in Seungmin’s voice, combined with his unwavering gaze, made your heart swell with a mix of gratitude and admiration. The conversation took on a new layer of depth, as his words not only offered comfort but also illuminated a newfound appreciation for your own work. In the softly lit restaurant, amidst the lingering aroma of your meal, his encouragement created a warm and supportive atmosphere, allowing you to see your art through a more appreciative lens.

A warm blush spread across your cheeks, a vivid response to the cascade of compliments from Seungmin. The praise seemed to flutter around you like soft, golden leaves in the breeze, making your face flush a deep crimson. Seeking refuge from the intensity of the moment, you allowed your gaze to wander towards the window, where the sun was gently descending, casting a golden hue over the city.

“Oh,” you began, your voice tinged with an innocent attempt to redirect the conversation. “How long have we been here? The sun is setting.” The urgency in your tone was barely concealed, and Seungmin, following your gaze, glanced out with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. His eyes widened slightly as he noticed the fading light and chuckled softly.

“I should probably start heading home,” you continued, a note of unease threading through your voice. “I don’t like walking home alone at night.” The admission was laced with a quiet vulnerability, and as you spoke, you could feel the familiar pang of anxiety gnawing at you.

Seungmin’s head turned sharply towards you, his expression shifting to one of genuine concern. “I’ll walk you home,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth and sincerity that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket. “It’s no problem at all.”

A playful back-and-forth ensued as you and Seungmin debated the offer of him walking you home. Despite your initial reluctance, a sense of acceptance settled over you, allowing you to concede to his persistent kindness. You attempted to settle the bill for your meal, but the generous man from earlier refused with a warm, unwavering smile. Even when Seungmin stepped in to offer payment, the man remained steadfast in his refusal. In the end, you both left a generous tip, a token of your gratitude for his exceptional kindness.

With the bill settled and the evening stretching out before you, you and Seungmin began your walk towards your apartment building. The path was bathed in the soft, fading light of dusk, casting long shadows and a serene glow over the city streets. As you strolled side by side, the conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by laughter and lighthearted banter.

The initial stiffness gradually melted away, replaced by a growing sense of ease and camaraderie. It was genuinely delightful to witness this side of Seungmin—a side that seemed to elude the confines of your shared photography class. His laughter, his thoughtful insights, and the warmth of his presence revealed a depth of character that was both refreshing and endearing.

In the gentle embrace of the evening, as the city lights began to twinkle like distant stars, the walk became more than just a journey home. It was a moment of genuine connection, a rare and cherished glimpse into Seungmin’s world, which felt like an honor to experience.

Eventually, you find yourself standing before the gleaming glass doors that lead into the lobby of your apartment building. The weight of the day’s end settles upon you, a bittersweet twinge in your chest as you come to terms with the departure of this unexpectedly pleasant companionship. The evening air, cool and gently perfumed with the scent of blooming night flowers, wraps around you both as you pause at the threshold.

Seungmin, his hands casually tucked into the front pockets of his jacket, rocks back and forth on his heels. The motion, coupled with his contemplative gaze, creates a picture of relaxed anticipation. His presence, so close to yours, carries a sense of warmth and quiet intimacy.

“This is me,” you murmur, your voice a soft whisper, blending with the stillness of the evening. You turn to face him fully, a mixture of gratitude and reluctance in your eyes. “Thank you again for taking care of me earlier. I’m really happy you were there.”

His response is a smile—genuine and radiant—that lights up his features and seems to fill the space between you with a comforting glow. Your heart swells at the sight, an involuntary smile curving your lips in return. Seungmin’s eyes hold a tender seriousness as he speaks. “Please take it easy, rest all that you can,” he advises, his concern palpable in his tone.

You nod in agreement, the sincerity of his words resonate deeply with you. The air between you feels charged with unspoken sentiments, a silent understanding blossoming amidst the dimming light. “It was really nice to spend time with you,” he continues, his admission eliciting a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.

“I had a really nice time with you too,” you reply, your voice imbued with genuine warmth. “Maybe we can do it again sometime soon—without me having to pass out for it.”

At your light-hearted comment, Seungmin laughs—a sound that is both musical and contagious. The laughter bubbles up between you, mingling with the evening air, and you find yourself laughing along, the shared moment creating a lingering sense of joy.

As you part ways, the memory of his smile and the warmth of his laughter accompany you, leaving a soft, lingering glow in your heart that makes the end of this day feel less like a farewell and more like a promise of things to come.

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ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🦇 ‘till forever falls apart 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. han jisung x idol!fem!reader

‧₊° content warnings. han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression. reader has fibromyalgia. constant mention of being in pain. love-making. cussing. lots of angst. more to be added.

‧₊° rating. 18+

‧₊° summary. in which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

EDIT: It’s in progress! Click on the title to read!

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🌅 i can’t change 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. bisexual!lee felix x male!reader

‧₊° content warnings. abuse, violence, homophobia conversion therapy, angst, mlm relationship, drug use (nothing too heavy, drinking, running away, smut, anal sex, blow job, rimming, fingering, semi-public sex

‧₊° rating. 18+

‧₊° summary. humanity was simply not made to reach the glorious sky without needing to return to the ground, this is a simple fact that both felix and y/n needed to learn one way or another. still, when each glance gets you drunk with a feeling you’d never quite experienced before, you can’t help but risk everything for his affection.

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🏫 the only exception 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. student!seungmin x student!fem!reader

‧₊° content warnings. brutal attack and kidnapping. death is mentioned a lot in different ways. neglectful parent. plot twist.

‧₊° rating: 16+

‧₊° summary. after her mother gets suddenly kidnapped right before her eyes, and her father didn’t seem to care enough, y/n embarks on a mission to save her mother with a strange boy from school to help along the journey.

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you can burst into flames.

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pairing: seungmin x gender neutral reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, reader has a fear of thunderstorms, reader goes nonverbal

rating: e (for everyone)

summary: seungmin helps you get through a thunderstorm by showering you with tender love and singing to you.

🕯️ volcano — seungmin & han (2 kids’ show)

A myriad of candles lit up the bedroom you’ve shared with your lover for a few years, casting its yellow glow over the sheltered space while the world outside took on the wrath of the thunderous storm that has carried on for the past several hours. Your soft snores were the only sounds heard apart from the violent pattering of the rain against the windows and the occasional boom of thunder, your head rested on Seungmin’s chest as you’d finally slept.

The two of you had just settled on the couch to watch a movie together when it first started raining, a small detail you’d taken note of yet paid no mind to at first. Although as the weather worsened, so did your anxiety. Seungmin was well aware of the person you became whenever the first strike of lightning occurred – almost as though you had been replaced before his very eyes as your muscles tensed and your eyes clouded with fear. He’d tried to comfort you as soon as he knew what would come, though nothing can really prevent you from panicking, and this was a fact that aggrieved him deeply since he would do anything to make you smile once again although this was beyond his power.

When the power went out as a result of the storm, the trembling and whimpering began. Seungmin was not allowed to leave your side for even a second as you gripped the hem of his shirt. And so he gently took your hand and guided you towards the hallway closet where you stored the innumerable amounts of candles you liked buying, and then took you with him towards the kitchen to find a lighter. Throughout the entire process, you could hear him murmuring sweet little nothings as a form of encouragement while moving at the pace you’d set. He sat you on your bed, and immediately began lighting as many candles as he could, creating as much light as he could before he settled beside you. Arms pulling you into his comforting embrace, your back pressed to his chest as he whispered about how brave you were being. You didn’t think so, since you felt a little ridiculous being so afraid of something so silly at your age, but the sincerity in his voice made you feel validated.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered after jumping at a particularly loud crack of thunder. “This is so stupid, and we were having such a nice time before all of this.”

Seungmin pressed a tender kiss to the back of your head, settling his chin on top of your head as his thumb rubbed gentle circles on your shoulder. “Sorry for what? There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

You couldn’t help but pout slightly, sitting up so you could look at him. He merely chuckled at the sight, hand reaching up to push a strand of hair away from your face and you could see the tiny flames from the candles reflected in his eyes. It took everything in you to not melt into his touch, your heart immediately steadying. Love was engraved in every touch, every word and you adored it. You adored him in a way you couldn’t even begin to describe. “I’m sorry you’re dating someone with childish fears.”

His expression suddenly turned serious as he furrowed his brows and frowned up at you. “It’s not childish at all, what are you talking about? I don’t want to hear any self-pitying from you, I want you to know that you’re being very brave, and I love that about you.”

He looked so stern you couldn’t help but smile a little bit, rolling your eyes playfully. But as you glanced at him again, you could see the expectant expression on his face as he waited for you to say the same words he always forced you to say in moments like these. So you sighed, moving around on the bed so that you could rest your head on his chest. However, right as you opened your mouth another thunder seemed to shake the room, which caused you to scream in surprise instead. His arms immediately wrapped themselves around your trembling body, hands squeezing whatever he could grab as a way to make sure you knew he was there with you.

With your eyes squeezed shut, you mumbled over and over again: “I’m being brave right now. The storm can’t touch me. I’m safe with Seungmin. I’m being brave right now. The storm can’t touch me. I’m safe with Seungmin. I’m being so brave right now, and Seungmin is proud of me.”

Seungmin’s lips pressed against your hair once again as he settled into a more comfortable position from underneath you. “I am so, so proud of my baby right now.”

Although the rain had shown signs of slowing down over the past hour, it seemed to intensify now, and your body began trembling once more. Seungmin was at a loss right now, he couldn’t think of anything else to say or do while the two of you rode out the storm. It wasn’t the first time that he’d had to help you through something like this, and he was always so willing to calm your mind and settle your heart each and every time; though it always seemed as though he would run out of things to do or say as the storms carried on. As you balled up his shirt into your shaking fists, he cleared his throat.

“You know,” he began, voice soft yet loud enough to be heard over the noise. “Hannie and Chan have been working on a song together. It made me think of you.”

This piqued your interest, releasing a shuddering breath as you momentarily looked up to let him know you’ve heard him since your voice seemed to have stopped working. He understood immediately as his eyes remained fixated on the dancing flames of the candles he’d placed in front of your bedroom television.

“You know Hannie’s always been good with words.” Seungmin smiled slightly at the thought, his fingers finding their way to your hair as he played with it. “Would you like to hear it?”

Without hesitation, you reach over his lower torso to squeeze his hip. Another crack of thunder was heard, and you jumped.

“I’ll protect you, it’s okay to hurt,” he began, your eyes shutting as his melodic voice rang through the air. “I’ll embrace the wounds you shed. To me, you’re already a sin…”

A soft smile tugged on your lips, your heart and breathing steadied at last, your muscles relaxing. Seungmin could feel the weight of your body change almost immediately as he continued to sing, and his heart soared at the realization of the effect he had on you. “...You were so warm when you hugged me tight. I guess I teared up for a moment, because it was the first time…”

Anything outside of this embrace seemed to fade away at your lover’s soulful singing, the warmth of his body and his fingertips that traced swirly figures on your skin bringing a sense of peace you didn’t expect. You sighed in content.

“...You can burst into flames, you can wound me next to you if you like, I can be anything…”

As the first of your snores were heard, Seungmin finally relaxed completely. You’ve endured another stormy night, and his own heart warmed at the sight of your sleeping figure. He didn’t stop singing, though, determined to finish the song at this point – the song that had reminded him of you the first time he read the lyrics, the song he’d unintentionally associated with you and he wasn’t the least bit sorry about it.

“...you are my volcano.”

word count: 1.2k 🕯️ posted: 12 • 02 • 2023

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