「 lee minho, (god)father at 800 years old 」

⤷ from the world of ‘your heart & your headache, too.’

◦ tw : slight swearing, chaos that comes with babysitting, mc sort of passing out at the end (out of exhaustion and anger)

It’s Lee Minho’s first day on his job as a babysitter. He sounds stressed when you pick up the phone. 

“Y/N, what am I supposed to do with these little demons,” Minho says, he’s starting to sound near tears now. “I haven’t got any sleep for three days already.”

If you were nicer (less tired), you might ask him why and sit up to drive over to his place to help. You might even laugh because for someone like Minho, who used to and still exorcises demons for a living because he’s quite literally a god who was banished from Heaven, to call Hyunjin and Felix little demons and make no attempt to hide his fear for them is laughable. 

However, you spent the entirety of last night finishing marking all of the midterms for your professor’s psych course, fueled by sheer spite and caffeine. You think you might suffer from a heart attack if you move the slightest inch right now. 

“They won’t let me sleep yet somehow they still get more sleep than I do, how is that fair!!” Minho is on the verge of pleading for mercy, you can feel it.

“Sounds tough on your end,” you hum, curling up on the couch while Jisung makes popcorn in the kitchen. “Maybe lay down and take a nap?”

“Felix broke a light bulb and Hyunjin tried to glue it back together and now he’s got glass in his fingers—“

“Y/N!!!” Jisung’s voice is suddenly coming from the bathroom now. “There’s no more toilet paper on the roll!”

you came into my life (just like another season) ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : fluff; angst; hurt/comfort

❖ word count : 4,4k.

❖ warning : swearing, mentions of death, killing, implied suicide. 

❖ summary : one scarf. two hearts. three confessions. four seasons. or alternatively, jisung will love you throughout every season until you learn to love yourself. 

❖ author’s note : i’m busy preparing for finals but here’s a small piece for the new year so no one forgets me...i hope y’all didn’t, at least not yet. anywho, take this as my token of gratitude for 2021, i appreciate you all so much ♡

i. winter —

The school bell chimes. Five minutes later, you’re pushing yourself through the hall to get to the student council’s office. Plenty of ‘see you’ are echoing back and forth, some in your direction so you struggle as hard as you can to reply. 

Chaos settles once the school empties out. Someone catches your eyes, then. A boy with a red scarf around his neck. 

“Yo, Jisung,” you inquire with a slight jerk of your body because you can’t physically wave with the bulky box in your arms. It’s full of papers about upcoming Christmas events—you’re not dropping any of that. 

Jisung waves back and you’re half-expecting a cheeky smile from him—there’s none. Something restrains you from frowning. He just woke up so the fever might still be there, you don’t want to push him. His hair is a disbelieved mess, his blazer crooked on his shoulders. His face is redder than usual, too; it’s more noticeable with that red scarf. 

“Thanks for bringing me to the nurse’s office...and eating lunch with me.“ Jisung scratches his nape as if your existence alone causes him distress. “Do you uh- President, do you remember what I told you in there?”

your heart & your headache, too ⤖ lee minho

❖ genre : stray god (?) au; fluff; humor; angst; action

❖ word count : 9,6k.

❖ warning : swearing, mentions of violence, blood, injuries, stitches

❖ summary : a self-proclaimed god shows up at your door in the middle of the night for a place to stay. you let him and hope the unconventional encounter doesn’t become a regular thing. of course, it becomes a regular thing.

❖ sequel blurb : read it here!

❖ dedicated to @poutylino​ : happy birthday robi! i hope you’ll like this mess of a fic ♡

There is a stranger in your living room.

There is a stranger in your living room.

There is—holy shit...you need to call the cops.

“Out of the way,” the stranger spats calmly. 

“Show me your face.”

He is unfortunately very good-looking; the kind of face that all beings envy for God only has one favorite and that’s him, the kind of face that makes the most expensive diamond look dull in comparison, the kind that screams ‘tougher in body and nobler in heart than any creature in the world’ like any novel’s protagonist. Oh yeah, did you mention that he has a really nice physique too?

“I said, move.” He stumbles forward, heavy and inconsistent breaths.

In any case, he’s someone you’ve never met before in your life. Therefore, your brain is overworking itself to figure out what the fuck is going on (as if it’s not overworked on a daily basis already). One moment you were minding your own business on the couch and stressing over your homework. The next, there’s an explosion of light and there he was. Meaning, this absolutely skeptical, worthy-of-being-reported man can’t just expect you to simply move.

“Last time I checked, this is my living room, which you’re not supposed to be in,” you tilt your head curiously at his silhouette being cast on the white wall. “You should move.”