Felix Centric One Shots

From Market to Majesty (Minlix)

"From humble beginnings to a love that would defy bloodlines."

Minho pulled the wide hood of his cloak up a little more, shadowing his face from the soft spring sun. The market buzzed with noise—vendors shouting prices, children laughing, and the smell of grilling meat mingling with the sweetness of ripe pears. For once, no one recognized him. No one bowed. No one whispered "His Majesty." It was exactly what he wanted.

"I'll grab the meats from that stall over there," he said to Hyunjin, who was barely hiding his smirk as he lingered by a stand of fresh rice cakes.

"You sure you don't need a royal escort to protect you from a carrot or two?" Hyunjin teased.

Minho rolled his eyes. "Just watch the pears. Last time you bought a dozen and ate half before we got home."

"I regret nothing."

Minho turned away before he could laugh and made his way toward a quieter corner of the market. He liked shopping himself—he said it reminded him he was still human beneath all the layers of silk and politics. He picked through some turnips and green onions, nodding politely to the old woman behind the stall.

That's when he saw him.

The boy stood just across the path, arms cradling a basket of tiny apples, his blonde hair glowing in the sunlight. It framed his face like a halo, soft and curling a little at the ends, and his cheeks were dotted with the most delicate freckles Minho had ever seen—like stars spilled across pale skin.

Minho didn't realize he was walking until he stood in front of him.

"What's your name?" he asked, trying to keep his tone even.

The boy blinked up at him, clearly startled. "Felix, my lord."

Felix. It settled in Minho's chest like a heartbeat.

"I hope to see you again, Felix," Minho said gently, offering a small smile before turning and walking away, basket of vegetables forgotten in the growing roar of his thoughts.

Back at the mansion, Minho stormed into the kitchen, startling the cooks.

"Out. All of you."

They blinked in confusion. "Your Majesty?"

"I said out. I'm cooking tonight."

One of them dropped a ladle. Another simply scurried away without a word.

By the time the sun set, the table was full—spicy stews, sweet grilled fish, pickled vegetables in tiny ceramic bowls, and sticky rice wrapped in lotus leaves. His guards sat around the table, clearly impressed.

"You made all this?" Chan asked, raising a brow.

Minho nodded, pouring himself a cup of plum wine. "I had... inspiration."

"Must've been some carrot," Changbin muttered as he bit into a dumpling.

"It wasn't a vegetable," Minho said calmly.

Jisung leaned forward. "Okay, then what was it?"

Minho set his cup down. "A boy. At the market. Blonde. Freckles. His name is Felix."

Hyunjin tilted his head. "You sound smitten."

"I'm not smitten."

"You sound smitten," Seungmin echoed.

Minho ignored them. "He's the prettiest thing I've ever seen. And I'm going to make him my empress."

The room went quiet. Then Jeongin coughed on his rice.