3RACHA @ MAMA 2025

Paws Between Us - Lee Know

summary: all your lover wanted was you to himself, but your three furry babies had other plans

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 1625 words

a/n: this is based on this request ♡

Masterlist

~°~

You balanced the grocery bags in your arms as you unlocked the door to Minho and Han’s apartment. You’d been waiting all week for this and your heart raced in excitement. Work and schedules had kept you both busy, but now the weekend was yours. Just the two of you.

As soon as you stepped inside, Han was already by the door, slipping into his sneakers. “Noona!” he grinned, pulling you into a quick hug.

🐶💻~

[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — so i got bored last night and made this for funsies, lmk what u guys think !! also there’s a part 2 that will be posted tmrw bc i couldn’t fit all the screenshots 💔

When I say “I love this artist” I either know 5 of their songs that I play on repeat or I know their entire discography and you just have to guess which one it is

SEUNGMIN: baseball cards

emotionally devastating bare faced boba eyed seung of the day

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floret (n.) a small flower

-> Seungmin meets you and falls instantly. But as someone who's not the best with words, he'll use a different language to let you know what he's thinking - flowers.

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The first time Seungmin lays eyes on you is in the morning.

He likes this particular time of day because every time the door opens, warmth pours into his humble flower shop, coating every corner and crevice in beautiful sunny streaks. Only this time, when the door opens and Seungmin lifts his eyes to greet the customer, every ounce of warmth he feels comes directly from your smile.

"Hi, I'm ___."

His father used to tell him about the moment he met his mother. Back then it sounded like gushy mush, but as he got older, he kind of wanted that gushy mush. He wanted it bad. A special moment when he meets someone and just by looking into their eyes, knows something is different about them.

"I'm Seungmin."

"heaven is a bedroom" a minho oneshot by @cosmicalily

The bedroom you and Minho had built for yourselves was less of a room for sleeping, and more of a nest for the two of you to comfortably exist alongside each other within. Minimal furniture, soft, freshly washed bed linen and a huge window with long navy curtains; simple, calming and easy on the eyes. A place to unwind.

After one of your first dates, Minho had invited you over to his apartment.

“I’m not expecting you to let me hit, I promise.” he assured you. “It’s too early for that. But I’d like to spend the evening with you.”

So you’d gone back to his, hands warm in each other’s. And when he’d let you in through the door, he had opened a bottle of wine, pulled out a puzzle, and lit a single lamp in the corner of his living room. It felt intimate, in a way that wasn’t lustful or desperate. It was cosy and familiar.

And as the two of you sat beside each other on the rug, placing pieces and chatting about anything and everything, one of his three cats on your lap, you’d felt something in your stomach settle. A sense of calm that hadn’t washed over your body in this kind of way for too long.

It had always been that way with Minho. The things that would have normally sent you into a spiral were settled into mere dust. Irrelevant when you had a person that simply got you, a person who loved and knew you through and through, in ways that you hadn’t thought were possible.

There was something permanent about Minho, a feeling you were thankful for.

Now, four years later, you sat on your shared bed, glass of red wine in hand, head resting against his shoulder as you worked on the large-scale Monet puzzle laid out on a tray in front of you. It had been a while since you’d had a pocket of peace like this together; you’d both been busy with work and had spent most nights falling asleep wordlessly, bodies entwined. But this evening, there was a power outage in your apartment block. There wasn’t any WiFi to answer work emails with, so you’d put your laptops to the side and moved into your bedroom. 

Whilst the candlelight was a little difficult to work with, the two of you had a knack for puzzles, identifying dips and curves in the pieces, knowing exactly where the next would go.

“Missed you,” you mumbled into Minho’s shoulder, slotting a piece into your growing patch of ocean.

“Mm? I’ve been around,” he replied, but pressed a light kiss to your cheek anyway, knowing you didn’t mean it physically. He set his wine glass down and moved his hand to your waist, gently squeezing and running his fingers along the soft skin. “It’s nice like this. Slower. Less to worry about.”

“I never worry when I’m with you, my love.”

Minho’s face stretched into a soft smile at that, and he moved the puzzle tray to the end of the bed, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “Good. You’re stuck with me, you know that, right?”

“I’m happy to be.”

Oh, drunk kisses with Minho were some of your favourite. There was a different side to him when he was like this; although he was never rough or cold with you, he was gentler and at times, sappy. Wanting you all over him, wanting to breathe in nothing but you.

But before his tongue slipped between your lips, he pulled away suddenly, head turning to glance at the rustling sound beside you.

Soonie, rather proudly, rolled through the sections of completed puzzle, purring gently.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you smiled in amusement, cupping Minho’s cheek with your hand and pulling his face back towards yours.

Red wine had most likely trickled out of your tilted glass and onto the white sheets, but that was the least of your worries. Minho’s fingers were in your hair, his burgundy stained lips warm against yours. Somehow, it tasted better on his tongue; sweeter, softer, more fragrant. His kisses were desperate yet measured, taking time to trace his tongue around your mouth, savouring you, downing you slowly and intentionally.

You managed to set your glass down on the wooden table beside your bed, using your now free hand to hold his cheeks. His skin was soft and smooth, a little flushed and warm under your fingertips.

And the way the two of you slotted together, your legs wrapped around his waist and his chest against yours, you knew for sure that amongst the thousands of pieces in your world,

He’d always be the perfect fit.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

SO GOODD

GLAD YOU LOVED IT

"to be loved is to be remembered" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist, and outline here

procedural memory: a type of implicit memory that is categorised as the unconscious guide to the processes and tasks performed on a daily basis.

author's note: this might be one of my favourite seungmin fics i've ever written. and maybe i'm biased because he is my bias and i love strawberry matcha, but i think sometimes it's okay to be self indulgent. enjoy!

There were many things that Seungmin would do without realising, as if he was on autopilot. Actions that were ingrained into his daily routine, little activities that made up his day without his awareness. The way he made his bed, the double knot he always tied on his shoelaces, the route he took to the coffee shop where he worked. He loved his routine; he loved simplicity and consistency.

At work, he thought even less about his actions. He was a quick learner, and had mastered the art of perfect coffee early on. He heard the words ‘latte’ or ‘flat white’ and somehow the completed drink would appear in front of him thirty seconds later.

“Do you do iced strawberry matchas?” a voice asked, snapping Seungmin out of his coffee-scented daze. He looked at the shot he’d started running for a flat white and then at you, cheeks pink from the cold and eyes sparkling. A soft blue scarf was wrapped around your neck, covering your chin, and you wore a cosy navy cable knit sweater, just a little too big at the sleeves.

Seungmin thought intently. “We don’t,” he said truthfully, drumming his fingers on the benchtop. “But give me a second. I’ll try and make something for you.”

You beamed in excitement. “Thank you!”

“It’s no problem,” Seungmin gave a half smile back, digging around for the matcha powder. “Although, I have to say, who orders an iced drink in the middle of winter?”

Your cheeks flushed a little pinker and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up, it’s business for you, isn’t it? And I’ll tip, obviously, because it’s a custom order. They just don’t taste as good warm. I tried it once, and it was awful.”

“Was it?” Seungmin paused, tipping the ice cubes from your cup back into the tray and placing it into the freezer. “I’m going to try and change your mind. Out of confidence as a good barista, but also out of concern for your health, because you’re literally going to freeze as soon as you step outside with ice in your system.”

“And if I don’t like it?”

“It’s on the house.”

“Deal,” you agreed, leaning against the counter and watching as he poured the frothed strawberry milk, creating a little bear design. He leaned to grab a lid, but you knocked his hand away. “It’ll cover the art you did,” you protested, and he shook his head in amusement.

You breathed in the soft, sweet scent and took a sip, thinking hard. Seungmin watched intently, his attention distracted from the three coffee orders he had lined up to complete next. You smiled, and his face softened. “Good?” he asked.

“It’s shit,” you deadpanned, then burst out laughing. “It’s amazing! How much do I owe you for it?”

“Nothing,” Seungmin replied, eyes shining.

You opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you a warning look. “Do you do this often, then?” you asked, taking another long sip of your drink.

“What do you mean?”

“Save girls with silly drink orders from hypothermia.”

“Sure, it’s my favourite pastime,” Seungmin replied seriously, though his eyes twinkled mischievously. “No, not ever before. You’re the first, Strawberry.”

Your smile widened at the nickname. “Even if you’re lying, I feel special. Thank you…” you paused.

“Seungmin,” he finished, handing over a latte to a man behind you.

“Thank you, Seungmin. I’ll be back, I promise!”

He nodded. “I know you will. See you around, Miss Matcha.”

You snorted and walked towards the door, spinning around and blowing him a quick kiss. He winked and you burst into a fit of laughter, and once you were properly out of sight, he let a full smile creep across his face.

By your third visit to the coffee shop, he didn’t even need a prompt to make your order. By the fifth, your drink would be sitting, ready for you, extra hot. Even though you no longer had a reason to wait, you always stayed to talk to him, and he was thankful you did.

Soon, Seungmin became unconsciously aware of your routine, of your timing, of your daily scarf rotation. Once winter ended, he caved and made you your first iced strawberry matcha, which you declared better than any other iced drink you’d ever consumed. He still refused to let you pay, but he was always accepting of your newfound habit of leaning across the counter and giving him a quick kiss before you left for the morning. Initially on the cheek, but by mid spring, on the lips. Your kisses tasted of your mauve lipstick, cinnamon, and of course, strawberry matcha.

After a year of dating, you moved into his apartment. Seungmin, a lover of routine and consistency, found himself mesmerised by your sporadic actions and in the moment decisions. It didn’t frustrate him, the way he worried it would. Your presence was a constant, something dependable that he centred his new, irregular routine around, filled with evening walks and beach day trips. He learnt your habits, and soon, your actions were as familiar to him as his own. He would still make his bed in the morning, and you'd help him, finishing the job off with the two jellycat puppies you'd bought for your six month anniversary. He would tie a double knot in his shoelaces, and wait for you to slip on your ballet flats. Whilst you always had your signature drink at his shop, he knew you loved chamomile before bed, and there was always a mug of it by your bedside after you'd gotten out of the shower.

And of course, you did the same for him, but in your own way. You'd lay on top of him, playing with his hair for hours, explaining every single thing you adored about him. You cooked him dinner, and you'd sit on the counter beside him as he did the dishes. It was routine. You were each other's routines.

He kept working at the coffee shop, but now as a manager, although he always insisted on making your drink himself, and you would visit him, sometimes bringing your laptop and glasses with you to set up in a corner and work, other times bringing whatever book you were currently engrossed in.

“Hi baby,” you smiled up at him, stretching your arms and dog-earing your page.

“You know I hate when you do that,” he groaned, sitting beside you on the bench. Nevertheless, he pressed a kiss against your cheek and you giggled.

“I know, but like, it shows the love I have for my books. The ones that have crumpled pages and tea stains and frayed edges are the ones I read the most.”

Seungmin shook his head. “I’m just teasing. I love you and your broken books.”

“They aren’t broken-” you protested, but he cupped your face in his hands and silenced you with a soft kiss.

“I love you,” he repeated, eyes glossed over.

“I love you too,” you gazed back at him. Your book fell off your lap, but you didn’t move to grab it. The strawberry matcha Seungmin had brought over was probably cooling, but you didn’t care. It was moments like this where everything felt like muscle memory, where nothing felt new or uncomfortable. He was familiar.

He grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers in his. You gently stroked his thumb, then whined when he let go of your hand to reach in his pocket. “What are you doing?” you asked, then you paused.

He’d slotted a ring on your finger.

“You can say no,” he said, looking you directly in the eye. "You can take it off. But it feels right for me. I saw it in the window the other day and I didn’t even think, I just bought it. Which is crazy, because you know I overthink and overplan everything.”

“I know, you’re a dork,” you smiled, but your eyes were glassy. “Why the fuck would I say no? Of course I’ll marry you.”

Seungmin breathed out and pulled you in a tight embrace. He felt warm, he smelled like coffee, and the skin of his neck was soft against your cheek. “I’m glad, because I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“I’m only doing it for the strawberry matcha, of course,” you quipped, chuckling.

“I’m only doing it out of pity,” he added.

“Dickhead.”

“Asshole.”

You leaned against him, his arms around your waist. He kissed your cheek, your forehead, your shoulder, and you rubbed his back. A buzz went off in his back pocket, a reminder that his break was over.

“So,” he broke the hug, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your drink’s probably cold. So I guess, as a good barista, and now a good fiance, I probably have to make you a new one.”

“I’m gonna make out with you for hours tonight, Kim Seungmin,” you declared. “You’re my dream boy.” You blew him a kiss as he stood up, taking your drink with him, and he winked in return.

You watched his reflection on the steel coffee machine, and saw him smile.

SEUNGMIN // 'WALKIN ON WATER' TEASER IMAGES

someone asked me how and where I got my icon! they're from the telegram sticker pack, and I actually made all the icons because I couldn't decide which one to use lol just gonna put them here, feel free to use!

all retouched & dimensions are tumblr friendly

Trophy Husband - Chapter 3

Hyunjin x Reader (fem.) Genre: Arranged Marriage au!, Marriage of Convenience-ish, Romance, Angst, Frenemies-to-Lovers, NSFW mdni Warnings: mentions of extramarital affairs, implied masturbation, cursing, drinking, physical violence, crude language, somewhat proofread WC: 6.4k A/N: We're really getting into this story oof, I was so excited to share this chapter! Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

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