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puppymlovemail · 9 months
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HELLO STRANGER. PART SIX.
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PAIRING: minho ft. hyunjin x fem!reader GENRE: smut, angst, fluff, soulmate!au. enemies to lovers. jealousy. pining. unrequited love. WORD COUNT: 5.9k
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masterlist and taglist ♡ pt.1 | pt.7
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do not repost to other sites, including translations.
He was made for the sun, you’ve come to learn. It seeps into his skin and melts right into the core of him. You’re sure it’s why he runs so warm. It’s a guilty pleasure: to watch him here. Your garden is safe and outside of reality and you can forget the cheesecake is off limits. You’ve been coming here with him so often you’re sure you are risking ruining the magic. You’ll find someone trimming the hedges or mowing the grass and it’ll be over. 
Minho readjusts his position in the grass, lifting his hands up underneath his head. You have a perfect vantage point from the swing. He lies in a soft bed of green, the sun shining down on his face—eyes closed, t-shirt rising slightly up his stomach. 
No one said you can’t look at the cheesecake. 
“Why’d you stop?” 
You blink, tearing your eyes from the sliver of skin between his t-shirt and waistband. 
“Huh?”
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puppymlovemail · 10 months
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HELLO STRANGER. PART FOUR.
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PAIRING: minho ft. hyunjin x fem!reader GENRE: smut, angst, fluff, soulmate!au. enemies to lovers. jealousy. pining. unrequited love. WORD COUNT: 6k
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masterlist and taglist ♡ pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3
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Minho keeps his word. He’s hardly around for the first few weeks, disappearing early in the morning and returning late enough at night that you can almost forget you live with him. It helps that Luna had a chance to adjust weeks before you. She’s decided this is home. You attempt to follow her lead. She’s a little leader, your girl. She always has one of Minho’s cats trailing her, a little companion on her adventures around the apartment. She’s never alone. 
Hyunjin tosses his towel into the laundry as he rushes past you. “I’ll clean up when I get back,” he says just before stuffing a strawberry in his mouth. “Promise,” he mumbles around the fruit. 
“Mm, don’t worry about it. Just have a safe trip.” 
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
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when are you coming home? — seungmin
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pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader
tags: friends to lovers, situationship-ish, boys on tour, smut!!!🔞
warnings: swearing, sexting, dirty talk, undefined relationship status, lewds, a painfully obvious hand kink that is not a reflection on me in any way shape or form 🙃, alcohol, drunk!reader, phone calls, fingering, countless cockblocking, mention of toys.
inspo: ……hands.
wc — 4384
notes: this was supposed to be a short blurb. also ty to @lino-nyangi for giving me the confidence to finish this 🫶🏻
you were a fool. a complete fool.
you just made out with your friend the night before he goes away for his world tour for a good few months. you just ruined your friendship, put yourself in a horrible situation that won’t be resolved until he comes home, risking the chance of him coming back and being too awkward to even talk to you.
you just made out with your friend the night before he goes away for his world tour for a good few months. you just ruined your friendship, put yourself in a horrible situation that won’t be resolved until he comes home, risking the chance of him coming back and being too awkward to even talk to you.
all because you were thinking with your heart (and maybe your pussy was making some good points too) and not your brain. your brain would’ve said to stop. it did say to stop.
but you chose to focus on kim seungmin’s lips instead.
it wasn’t like he didn’t kiss you back… in fact, he was the one who grabbed your waist and pulled you onto his lap. he was the one who slid his tongue into your mouth. he was the one who said your name softly as you pulled away.
and you were the one with a cockblock of a roommate who had to call you at that exact moment to say they forgot their keys and they’re stuck outside in the cold.
looking down at seungmin’s puppy eyes made it near impossible to care about your friend’s wellbeing, but you snapped out of it and sighed.
“i need to go home,” you said, hands flat against seungmin’s chest.
he nodded at you, jaw clenched lightly before he sighed the tension away. then he smiled.
“do you need me to walk you?”
“no, it’s okay, they’re so desperate to get out of the cold that they’re calling me a taxi.”
“when’s it getting here?” he asked, and you noticed his hands were still firmly on your hips. they were warm, which made it impossible to miss just how much of your skin was covered by their warmth.
you looked down at your phone and the tracker map, the taxi was still seven minutes away.
“then come here,” he mumbled, snaking a hand onto your cheek and pulling you back to his lips.
his lips were so soft, and he tasted of the cupcakes you were eating when you watched that movie together—right now you couldn’t even remember the plot of it. all you could think about was the sweet coffee frosting and the way his tongue moved so skilfully against yours. all you could think about was his firm chest against your palms, the way you couldn’t quite tell who’s heart beat you were feeling underneath them.
and then your phone rang again and it was the driver and you grabbed your things and seungmin walked you outside and you wished him good luck on his tour and then you were gone and the next day he was gone and it’s been a week and not a single word from him.
when you finished all your work that day and retrieved your phone from where you were charging it you saw a few new messages.
seung: tour has been super busy so far i don’t think i’ve slept more than six hours this week
seung: if i dissociate hard enough does that count as a nap?
seung: also tell ur roommate they’re on my hit list now
you: why are they on ur hit list????
you: and please sleep minnie
seung: i can’t believe they ruined my one shot
you: wdym
seung: the thought of you kissing me won’t leave my head
seung: since chan’s bday party it’s all i wanted
seung: then i get that and you’re gone
you: you’re gone too mate you’re in fucking thailand
seung: and if i wasn’t in thailand?
you: what..?
seung: if i was home now. what would happen?
you take in a deep breath before you type your next words, a tingling sensation running through the tips of your fingers.
you: if it was up to me?
you: something something your fingers
seung: i don’t speak shy
you: you’re gonna make me say it??
seung: only if you want me to do it
you: kim seungmin
seung: no need to be so formal
you: if you were home now i think it would be nice if your fingers were inside me while we kissed some more
you: if that’s something you wanted ofc
seung: fuck
seung: yeah yeah that’s something i want
seung: that’s something i really really want
seung: i need to go soundcheck now fuck
seung: will be thinking of that forever thanks
you fell asleep with your phone still in your hand, trying to distract yourself with tiktoks until seungmin had another spare moment for you. but that moment only came at 5:47 am when he texted you saying he had no idea what to have for dinner. you asked him what he ended up getting to which he only replied ten hours later.
you were used to communicating like this with him. when he was on tour he was always busy, going from one place to the next and doing interviews and shows, and of course, timezones played a part too. but you noticed this time he was making more of an effort, always texting you random details about his day when he had the chance.
and you did the same for him in return, always snapping pictures of your lunch and sometimes of your outfits too.
before you kissed him, he’d just say normal things. friend things. like “that looks cute!” and “why are you wearing a hat it’s winter”.
now he’s a bit more forward. or maybe it was because you innocently snapped a picture that showed off your body pretty well, in an outfit that was meant to do the same.
seung: where are you going?
you: to the clubs!
seung: yeah you look hot like that
you: thanks
seung: you gonna shoot your shot?
you: i already did
seung: and how did that turn out?
you: got kissed and then abandoned :(
seung: who would do that
you: some guy who cares more about his fans than he cares about me
seung: that is so not true
seung: promise me something?
you: what….
seung: don’t kiss anyone or flirt with anyone
seung: please
you: seung. what is that supposed to mean?
seung: that outfit is gonna drive me crazy
seung: ur body
seung: u could get anyone you wanted you know that?
you: way to avoid the question
seung: it’s all the media training :)
you: i’m not gonna promise anything if you don’t give me a reason
seung: goddamit you know the reason
seung: just… please.
you: seungmin.
seung: i just don’t think it would be fair. i’m not there to beat the other people to it
you: what other people?
seung: i wanna be the only one
it was around two in the morning when you arrived home, the alcohol still rushing through your body and blurring your vision slightly. even though you didn’t make any promises to seungmin, there wasn’t any reason to. no one has been able to catch your attention ever since you first started developing a crush on him, and after kissing him (and the constant flirting since) it was obvious to you you didn’t want anyone else. but seungmin didn’t need to know that yet.
you texted him to tell him you were home, like he asked you too, and a few moments later an incoming facetime call drew your attention to your phone.
you quickly answered it.
“minnie!” you slurred, waving at the camera enthusiastically.
“drunk?” he chuckled.
“obviously,” you rolled your eyes.
it was then you noticed he was wearing his stage outfit, spotting his overalls and jewellery and in-ears.
“you look so good,” you groaned. he laughed. “when’s the show?”
“in like two hours,” he nodded, looking to the side to supposedly check the time. but all you saw was his jaw.
“woah,” you sighed, “god.”
“huh?”
“you’re so hot,”
“you’re still in that outfit,” he retorted.
“well, i can take it off if you really want,” you said before you could even register what you were thinking.
seungmin jumped in his seat, eyes wide and staring at you.
“if i take my shirt off will you give me something in return?”
“huh?” was all he managed.
“can you show me your hands?”
“yeah, yeah,” he stuttered, “anything you want. but—“
you crossed your arms in front of you, rolling the bottom of your shirt up your stomach before seungmin put his hand up as if saying stop. so you did.
“what is it?”
“you’re drunk and i shouldn’t let you.”
“you don’t wanna see my tits?” you grabbed them, drawing his undivided attention to your chest.
“god, how much i want that,” he grumbled. “but not like this. i wanna see you for the first time when i get home.”
you pouted at him, which sent even more of his blood rushing towards his dick. he clenched his jaw tightly.
“did you keep your promise?” he decided to change the subject.
you nodded quickly. “obviously. wouldn’t wanna fuck anyone that isn’t you.”
evidently, any filter you had had drowned in the alcohol and was now rendered useless.
seungmin gaped at you.
“you want us to fuck?”
“so bad,” you groaned, “like, if i was there and you just had two hours to chill i’d beg you to fuck me in your dressing room.”
“you’re trying to kill me,” seungmin mumbled.
“you know ever since chan’s party i think of you when i touch myself,” you said, casually.
so casually that seungmin was left to blink at you as the words registered in his brain.
“what do you think about?”
“i dunno,” you shrugged, bringing a finger to your collarbone subconsciously, “just… being with you.”
“oh, like—“ but before seungmin could say anything else han walked into his room, speaking loudly about something to do with the food he found for lunch.
you said hello to jisung and talked to him for a few more minutes before felix came into the room as well.
you could see seungmin’s side eye at his members, and it made you giggle loudly, but neither of them focused on that too much when they realised you were just drunk.
after a catch up with felix you decided you were tired and went to bed.
seungmin couldn’t believe how bad his luck is.
seungmin’s wish to see you for the first time in person was quickly forgotten. the more times you asked him if he wanted to see you, the more he considered just how long it was gonna be before he came home. so when you suggested it again on one of your two am facetime calls, seungmin let out a breathy “please.”
he bit his lip, smiling cheekily at you as he watched you through the screen running your hands up and down your chest.
he brought his thumb to his lips, mumbling something as he clearly wasn’t focusing on your face.
“what was that?”
“you’re so beautiful,” he said, rolling his eyes in frustration. “i wish i was there.”
“only a few more weeks, minnie,” you reminded him, shifting around to show off a better angle of your body.
“i wanna touch you and hold you and kiss you and fuck you and—“ he groaned again, “—this is so unfair. why can’t you come out here?”
“because—“
“—i’ll pay for everything, we’ll book a room for you and whatever you need.”
“i can’t ask work to just let me go next week.”
“then the week after?”
“i need to ask like six months in advance,” you sighed.
“that’s such bullshit. quit your job and come on tour with us.”
“and you’ll pay my rent and my bills and my t—“
“i’ll pay for everything,” he repeated. and although it gave you butterflies you knew that wasn’t realistic. you couldn’t ask that of him, and besides, you didn’t want that. you did want to see him, but you also had your life. and that came first.
“whatever you say, minnie,” you dropped it quickly.
“okay,” he knew to drop it as well, blinking the bangs away from his eyes as his gaze settled back on your face.
“i do really miss you. regardless of all the things we’ve been talking about lately. i wanna hang out with you again.”
“yeah,” you smiled at him, “i miss you, too. when are you coming home?”
the tour was coming to an end, the last few shows left. you still talked to seungmin almost every day, about work and your life and his life and the tour and everything in between. and most nights it would end up with most of your clothes off in front of each other, whispering dirty things down the phone.
with only a couple weeks left, you were really starting to lose your patience. you felt a longing for seungmin, which wasn’t new, but with it being obvious that the only thing in your way now was distance it drove you insane. you dreamt about him and thought about him and wanted him.
you never thought your stupid kiss would lead to anything other than awkwardness, but making your feelings known to seungmin was all he needed to push him out of the pining phase and into the chasing the girl he liked phase.
as you were eating your breakfast you opened your social media and started scrolling aimlessly; until you gasped, finger hovering above your screen as you stopped on seungmin’s latest instagram post. you weren’t even sure if he was trying to take a picture of his face at all—when all anyone could see was his hands.
his really really beautiful hands.
without even thinking about it you opened your chat with him and typed out a quick message. before you could overthink it you switch back to the pictures, admiring them in their full glory.
you: kim seungmin.
seung: either you’re mad at something or you opened instagram
you: so it was an intentional attack i see
seung: yes
seung: planned and executed to perfection
you: and what might this attack be in retaliation too?
seung: had a dirty dream about you
seung: needed your attention
you: could’ve just asked????
seung: not as fun
you: what was your dream about?
next came a voice message. you squeezed your thighs without even realising it, anticipation crawling up your skin as you pressed play.
seungmin went into great detail about a date in one of the fancy restaurants he visited in japan recently, about how cute you looked and that felix was your waiter and there were only cupcakes on the menu.
and then he laughed, deep and slow, before he said, “and you just dragged me to the roof of that restaurant and begged me. you were on your knees and everything.”
you started typing, urging him to tell you more about this dream of his when another message came through.
“as soon as i touched you i woke up, which is ironic considering we keep getting cockblocked by someone.”
“felix would be a good waiter,” you recorded back, “but i wouldn’t trust him with a tower of cups.”
“is that your main takeaway?” he laughed loudly. you could almost picture him covering his smile with his hand.
“sucking you off on a roof would be cool,” you shrugged, even if he couldn’t see it.
his laughed echoed through your ears before he wished you a good day, and told you to eat lots of food.
you knew seungmin was back home when he called you through his normal number and not his apple id.
“what are your plans tonight?” he asked, before saying hello or anything else.
“i’m having dinner with my friends,” you said.
“do you want me to pick you up after?”
“no,” you let the silence stretch for a second or two before adding, “it’s close to yours so i’ll just come over after?”
“you had to be a little shit, huh?” you can hear his smirk. you’ve grown so used to only hearing him, and sometimes seeing him through your phone, your heart races at the idea of getting to see him in front of you.
it’s eight hours later when you knock on seungmin’s door.
he opened the door, your chest rising as you took in a deep breath. his hair looked much brighter in person, and he was a little more tan than the pictures showed. and he was smiling at you as he flicked his bangs away from his face.
“hello,” he said, formally, bowing at you.
you slapped his chest, pushing past him as you toed off your shoes and walked inside.
“you have no manners,” he tsked at you, as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest.
“i missed you,” you mumbled into his hoodie, locking your arms behind his back and squeezing him closer to you.
you could feel his chin resting against your head, his thumb rubbing against your shoulder.
and then his finger wrapped around your chin as he brought your face up to his, brushing your lips together.
he pulled away, ever so slightly, smiling softly down at you.
“hi,” he grinned.
“hi,” you sighed.
he brought his hand to your cheek, pulling you in closer, kissing you passionately. it was as if all those months apart was leading to this moment, to the what if you never had to leave that first night you kissed him.
somehow you got pinned against the kitchen counter, and then seungmin grabbed onto your thighs, mumbling a soft “up,” against your lips before he lifted you onto the cold marble.
he slotted himself easily between your legs, his arms caging your body from either side.
“wait,” you said, pushing at his shoulders. the pair of you caught your breaths, looking at each other with nothing but want. but as soon as you pushed him away seungmin straightened himself up, creating more distance between you.
“where are the boys?”
“out,” seungmin nodded, “i told them not to come back without warning.”
you laughed loudly at that. “so we’re not getting cockblocked this time?”
“we most definitely are,” he sighed dramatically, “but this time it won’t be seconds before i take my dick out.”
the memory from that one call in melbourne was still painful in your mind, hyunjin coming into seungmin’s room at the worst possible moment. but at least the pair of you could laugh about it now.
“let’s test that theory,” you grinned, running your hand down his shoulder and all the way to the band of his sweats. you gripped it as you pulled him closer to you.
seungmin’s eyes gaped at you, his jaw dropping slightly before he started laughing.
you locked eyes with him, silently asking him if you could keep going. the eager look in his eyes was enough to tell you to cup him through his sweats.
he brought his hands to your knees, gliding them upwards before he grabbed your thighs and pushed them open.
you captured his lips in yours, a small groan leaving his lips as you started palming him through the soft material, his cock hardening under your touch.
seungmin wasted no time in returning the favour, running his thumb up and down your core as the kiss got more passionate, more sloppy.
“bedroom?” he asked when you pulled away for air.
you practically jumped off the counter, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards his bedroom.
his suitcase still stood in the corner of the room but you didn’t say anything about it, mainly because seungmin lifted you up and placed you in the middle of the bed before you registered what was going on.
then his lips were on yours again, and so were his hips, and the pair of you moved against each other—small moans filling the room.
“god, i can’t believe this,” he mumbled against your skin, kissing your neck and jaw as his hand inched closer to your chest. “i waited so long for this.”
“me too, minnie,” you nodded, grabbing his hand and kissing his palm. “want your hands.”
“where do you want them?” he smirked, watching in awe as you started kissing his knuckles, his fingers, his wrist.
“anywhere,” you giggled, “everywhere.”
“like them that much?” he raised his eyebrows, grinding his hips into yours. the pressure was just right, a loud moan leaving your lips. seungmin repeated his actions, eyes locked on your lips as you kept kissing every part of his hand you could.
his other hand slid underneath your shirt, grabbing your chest as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.
you arched your back at the pleasure, neglecting your task of admiring his hand.
“y/n,” he called your attention, finger running against your lips, “focus, yeah?”
you nodded, kissing the tip of his finger. you weren’t sure what possessed you to do what you did next, but you slowly opened your mouth and let his finger fall against your tongue. then you sucked on it, giggling slightly at seungmin’s bewilderment.
he only started moving faster, urged on by your muffled moans, before he scrunched your shirt all the way up and started kissing your chest.
“seung,” you breathed, slipping your hand into his hair. you didn’t need to tell him anything else as he slowly wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking and smiling as you arched your back in response.
he planted more kisses against your chest and then your stomach and then over your leggings, where the wet patch was getting embarrassingly visible.
“want my fingers here, bubs?” he asked, carefully, running a light finger over the spot you seemed to enjoy the most.
you nodded eagerly.
he slipped his hand into your underwear, smirking at you as he slowly rubbed the tip of his finger around your entrance.
“wet…” he mumbled softly, “wet and warm.”
“minnie, please,” you bucked your hips up.
he clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
“i know what you want,” he kissed your cheek, “so just trust that i’ll give it to you.”
“but,” you sighed, “waited so long.”
“what’s another five minutes then?” he smiled, rubbing up and down your folds.
“you were gone for weeks,” you complained, but it fell short when his finger rubbed your clit softly and you gasped desperately.
“and i wanted you for months,” he said, face inches away from yours. “god, i’ve wanted you for ages. thought about you all the time, wishing i could have you.”
“then have me, seungmin, stop teasing,” you whined.
he clicked his tongue again. “payback and all.”
“how is it payback when i wanted you too?” you exclaimed, laughing airily.
“didn’t say anything,” he shrugs, “so i’m teaching you to use your words better. for next time.”
“next time?” you blinked.
“mhm,” he started circling your entrance again, pushing his finger in slowly, “next time.”
he sunk his finger all the way inside you, the length enough that you could feel a pressure in your stomach. and although seungmin really wanted to keep teasing you, the reaction he got was too good—and so he pushed his fingers in again and again and again until you were chanting at him not to stop.
and then you came all over his fingers.
seungmin softly kissed your shoulder as you caught your breath, brushing your hair out of your face. he slowly pulled his fingers away, delicately, and was about to grab a tissue from his nightstand before you grabbed his wrist.
he looked at you questioningly, his jaw dropping when you brought his fingers to your mouth again and licked them clean.
“holy fuck,” he chuckled. “i fucking—“
and then his phone rang. “oh, im gonna kill someone. yeah, im going to kill them.”
you chuckled at him when you looked over at his phone and spotted felix’s caller id.
seungmin answered, huffing out a sound as a greeting. “cool, thanks.”
he threw his phone into the pillow before he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your chest. “they’re on the way back now.”
you soothed his grumbling, running your hands across his shoulder softly.
“that’s okay. do you wanna watch a movie now?”
after you cleaned yourself up the pair of you migrated to the living room, putting on a movie you both watched before as you snuggled closer to seungmin’s chest. he had his arm around your shoulder, his finger playing with your hair.
even though the movie was playing, and you were supposed to act normal, you still spent your time kissing his knuckles—unable to just not when his hands were so beautiful. seungmin laughed at you for it.
when the boys got back, jeongin made a comment at how he thought seungmin was actually getting some and that’s why they were asked to leave.
“thanks for that,” seungmin said, sarcastically. the boys didn’t notice how you buried yourself in the blanket as a blush crept up your neck.
the next day seungmin told you he was leaving again in two days for some fansign event for their album. it wasn’t an airplane away, but it was far, and he wouldn’t be back for a few days.
“but don’t worry, i got you something to make up for it.”
“you got me something?” you gasped. “no, you didn’t need to at all!”
“it’s for me too,” he smirked at you.
just then the waiter came around to ask for your orders.
“what does that mean?” you whispered after they left.
“you’ll see. it’s getting posted to yours.”
three days later, after sending seungmin a selfie on your walk home so he could see you were safe, you found a package by your door.
you quickly opened it, knowing it was seungmin’s gift as you didn’t order anything.
you felt your whole body tingle when you realised what it was. an app controlled vibrator.
you: kim seungmin.
seung <3: it isn’t my hands, but think you wanna use it?
you: yes!!!!! but only if you still send me mirror selfies.
seung <3: obvs. tell me when to turn it on babe
you: you’re gonna use this for evil, huh?
seung <3: don’t act like we’ve just met
you: ugh. menace
seung <3: your menace 😗
you: …
you: i hate you.
you: when are you coming home?
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
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🖤 ONE NIGHT AT BACK DOOR Masterlist
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «ABOUT/FAQ» · «ASK» · «TREAT ME TO PUDDING?🍮»
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❗ DISCLAIMER: Please read About & FAQs before you engage. All work incorporates afab!Reader insert unless otherwise stated.
LEGEND 📓Release status/Rating · 🖤Pairing · 🪐Universe · 🏷️Genre/Trope · 🚨 Warnings
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ONE NIGHT AT BACK DOOR: Valentine's Special Shorts Collection
SYNOPSIS Back Door, the themed speakeasy entertaining the socialite of the city, is hosting its annual Valentine's-themed event with its regulars. Whether you want a date with your boyfriend of choice, or you just want some company for the whole night, they got you covered with their various specialties.
You wanna come in?
*This short series is a spinoff from the universe of REBLOG. **A/N: I'm back from the dead. Winter blues can suck it.
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📓Installment 4/7, Explicit, Ongoing 🖤Bang Chan x Reader · Lee Know x Reader · Changbin x Reader · Hyunjin x Reader · HAN x Reader · Felix x Reader · Seungmin x Reader · I.N x Reader 🪐Sex Work AU 🏷️Smut 🚨Reader Discretion Advised: Explicit sexual content, mention of various kinks mostly revolving around roleplaying, strong language.
📖CONTENT (Does not denote the order of release) ♥ LONELY HEARTS CLUB ♦ Host: Chris ♦ Host: Minho ♦ Host: Jisung
♠ MATCH MADE IN HELL ♦ Host: Changbin ♦ Host: Seungmin ♦ Host: Jeongin
♣ THE INTERSECTION ♦ Hosts: Hyunjin & Felix
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«GENERAL M.LIST» · «ABOUT/FAQ» · «ASK» · «TREAT ME TO PUDDING?🍮»
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📢Regarding tagging: Please do not ask me to tag you if you won't be meaningfully engaging with my work. Additionally, I do not tag ageless and/or blank blogs, nor can I tag you if your blog is listed as "invisible" / if you've changed your URL and didn't let me know. Thank you for your cooperation in advance!
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
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HAN ‘IF I HAD TO SAY’ (221216) – FACECAM 
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
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DARLING. kim seungmin — 김승민
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pair. bookshop owner! seungmin x f. reader | warnings. profanity, angst, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, slight exhibitionism | genre. dark academia, romance, love at first sight | word count. 8k
tags. @ughbehavior (@straywrds), @cb97percent, @j-0ne25, @hyuneater, @hyun-bun, @choigore, @danyxthirstae01, @hellishmoons, @lix-ables, @skz317cb97.
a/n. this was supposed to be out for his bday, but life happened. nevertheless, hope you guys enjoy!! reblogs are great, all writers appreciate them incredibly 🤍
synopsis. it hasn’t stopped raining for weeks. as you enter his life, as you walk out of it. he just needs one chance with you.
Cold, empty—wet.
A city devoid of sun, in a constant state of mourning. Century old buildings with their Victorian architecture and smell of humidity, the eternal reconstruction that makes it impossible to enter them, a church with no door, a river without bed, a shop with nothing to sell. They might as well be part of the scenery, now and forever. Occupied space and not much else.
There had been a point in time, though, and this is the part that’s important to Seungmin. There had been a time when these grand structures held great power over people—artists, especially. Endless sketches of the fabrications can be found in the Public Library, a place he used to visit quite frequently before he opened his business. Blueprints of the interior, books about the conformation and infrastructure going on and about continually, pages creating volumes, creating noteworthiness, establishing history.
He wonders if you’ll come today.
Kim Seungmin was born in Seoul, Korea on September twenty-first to a doctor mother and architect father. He strived tirelessly for most of his childhood and adolescent life for more than adequate grades, and a clean record, and when it was deemed appropriate, on the day after his seventeenth birthday, he left for London to join his sister at the University of Cambridge, an exemplary student with a bright future. He surprised everyone when instead of following in the footsteps of his parents and going for Medicine or Architecture, he chose Engineering with History of Art as his minor. A respectable career, granted, but not what he was supposed to do—not what had been predetermined for him.
Four years of nothing but rain, libraries, books, and dorm life, he’d finally graduated with Honors, and went to join the real world, with its many offers, all miserable and soul consuming. It didn’t take long for the masks to fall, the pretenses to seize. Seungmin was fucking over it, wanted nothing more to do with the path he’d led for all those years, nothing to do with his parents’ expectations, the appearances to be kept, the role he had to play, to maintain, so they can boast and gloat, and fill their bellies in their private fucking golf clubs, to their insufferable little friends with the pretty daughters, and the arranged marriages.
Yeah, fuck no.
What he did alternatively—he took a loan out. He opened a bookshop in Pimlico overlooking the Thames, and he never looked back. He lived with three roommates in a crammed-up apartment on Winchester Street, a tiny room with a twin bed, a desk and a refrigerator, until he was able to stand on his feet, and move somewhere nicer, somewhere private, and do not get him wrong, that took two entire years—years of learning the ropes of handling a business, of making orders, of studying his crowd and getting a feel of the area, and even then, sales weren’t booming, they weren’t even fucking flickering, till more café’s opened up, bringing people towards that part of the river, the hibernating one, with the sleepy tree branches looming over Seungmin’s head every time he walked to work. It was hard, being independent. But he did an excellent job hiding it, and after a while…well maybe he was just a natural pretender.
Eventually he got a bike. It was a used, secondhand thing, and he had to change the chain on it, but after that it worked just fine, so it was enough for him. With a ‘help wanted’ sign under his arm, pedaling the ten-minute ride to his shop, his only stop the local bakery where he purchases his warm cappuccinos and apple strudels every morning. The co-owner of the place, Han Jisung, always asks the same question upon arrival—the usual, then?
The usual. Seungmin was a creature of habit from a young age. He had to have a plan, an extensive list of steps to be taken, a routine. He thinks his life would’ve turned out completely different if he wasn’t like this; he would’ve ended up working a corporate job, a nine to five, sitting on a desk with a suit and tie, holding a briefcase, that kind of thing. Something simple, mind numbing. Instead, he chose the calendar, the extra assignments, the sleepless revisions. All which ended with him thousands of miles away, managing an establishment with no outside help. The point was—he needed to find someone immediately. He couldn’t possibly bear to manage everything on his own anymore, what with the seminars and people going in and out in a regular stream, only pausing for a couple hours at lunch time.
Sometimes, the strudel would go to waste. There’d be no time. Still, the usual. Why bother switching something that’s worked so well for so long?
“It’ll be raining for weeks, I heard. Better get yourself a raincoat if you want to keep riding that rusty bike of yours,” his friend advised him, handing him his order with a tight-lipped smile.
Seungmin mirrored his expression. “Will do, mate. Thanks for this.”
“No problem. Hey, don’t forget—you, me, the guys. Friday evening. Drinks at The Morpeth Arms.”
Here’s the thing. Seungmin never forgot, he wasn’t the forgetful type; in fact, he had a spectacular memory, something that helped him immensely during his academic career, and earned him a few nods of amazement, the casual ‘memory of an elephant, this one.’ No, Seungmin just hated social events, especially the ones that included drinking yourself into a stupor, traveling in packs holding on for dear life, and paying an enormous amount of money just for your liver to turn black later on. He’d rather be at home, eating comfort soup, watching his home country’s drama shows, and falling asleep on the couch, glasses inadvertently positioned on the very tip of his nose, every single time.
Yeah, Seungmin never forgot. He just had other things to do. Something warned him though, that he might not be able to get out of this one. Undeniably so. He’s bailed on his friend group more than two times in a row, had no good excuse for it today.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he replied, waving a quick goodbye, and making a run for it.
“Don’t just see, Kim Seungmin. Do!” he heard the boy yelling after him, but he had already passed the threshold of the bakery, securing his things in the basket on the front of the bike.
Jisung was a force to be reckoned with. Same age as him, of Korean descent as well, a graduate of the Royal Academy of Culinary Arts, he took over his mother’s bakery and revamped the entire place, a smart move, which turned out to work in his favor, tripling the monthly profits in the first six months of reopening. Things seemed to just…go well for him, whatever he did, something Seungmin envied, but tried his hardest to learn from. It's always been him, Seungmin, and Hyunjin, an Art major, currently in his last year of school, ever since he came to England. Jisung had an ex-girlfriend attending Education classes at the same university as the bookshop owner, and Hyunjin would tag along only with the promise that he’d be able to stay in the premises and sketch the gardens.
Eccentric at times, the two of them, but the interesting kind, the kind that makes you want to stick around just to witness where it is all heading. Although they could get quite annoying when they wanted to…
He unlocks the wooden door with the glass pane, the intense smell of books hitting him at once. Moving in the familiar area, he makes sure to secure his bike along the wall, so it doesn’t slip and hurt any customers, and goes to turn on the lights from the panel in the back, resting his breakfast on top of the checkout secretaire.
The small bookshop lights up like a tree at Christmas, the fairy lights he’d installed earlier in the year hanging gracefully amongst the bookshelves running from floor to ceiling, stacks upon stacks decorating each section, all alphabetized and in categories, all carrying a purpose. Seungmin fixes his glasses on his face, running a careful hand through his parted hair, before removing his brown coat, rolling the sleeves of his white, crisp shirt high up on his forearms, and getting to work.
There’s a sort of ambience he particularly enjoys, a specific scent to accompany the unique odor of books, of yellowed out pages or alternately, of freshly published novels, recently sewn together, a big section of them in front of the big window as soon as you enter, with an exclusive segment of Seungmin’s Top Ten Picks of the Month. More lights along the walls, lantern looking designs, made specifically to give off a vintage overtone to his business, and a couple velvet armchairs in the corners, with decent sized tables, and candles on each side to provide a moment of relaxation for the customers.
Cinnamon and vanilla. A tiny tea and coffee cart next to his workspace for anyone that cared for it, always filled and ready to be taken advantage of. When Seungmin cared for something, he took it to the absolute extremes, made it part of him entirely, took care of it tenderly, tended to it regularly. This is why, he thinks, he succeeded in marketing this place. Because it isn’t just a means of income for him, because he’s genuinely a book lover, an avid reader. Because this is the inside of his soul, perfect to a T.
He starts the playlist on his tablet, lowers it to a gentle hum, and stands for a minute, taking in the warm palette of colors around him, sipping on his coffee, tasting the apple wrapped in puff pastry. It’s exquisite, as always, Han really has a fucking talent, he thinks as he peals the sticker off the sign he picked up from the printer shop earlier, sticking it on the storefront window, capital black letters in Times New Roman looking outside.
Hopefully, someone will show up within the week. In the case no one’s interested, well—he’s fucked. No plan B there. He counts on the broke students pacing up and down these streets daily to fill in the position. No one else in their right mind would work at a bookshop, of all places of employment, and for that he won’t dare fault them, not one bit. He can pay a fair wage, but it’s nothing to start a proper life, he’s aware of that. It doesn’t change the fact.
A little after ten, it starts raining; the fat, gray clouds he saw looming over him on his way there, finally giving way to fat droplets of water, drenching everything in their wake, a blurry watercolor painting. Seungmin sighs, leaning back on his chair, as he checks off inventory and researches up-and-coming authors to feature for next month. He accepts that it might be a slow day, and gets comfortable in his seat, yawning and stretching his limbs.
You enter in disarray, dripping water everywhere, closing a bright colored umbrella halfway in your attempt to shut the door behind you. The tote bag is the first thing he notices, it looked heavy on your shoulder, worn down. Then your coat, a deep emerald green, an entire forest, how it looks from above, and then finally your face as you turn to him, your expression bewildered, staring down at him like a deer in headlights, slightly confused, but not lost, not entirely.
There you are.
“Good morning,” he greets, no other words present in his brain. How peculiar. He adds a soft smile, for good measure.
Normal. Nice job, Kim Seungmin.
“Dreadful, isn’t it?” you say, and he guesses you refer to the rain, so he nods, watching you observe his establishment with curious eyes, leaving your umbrella behind as you walk over to the bookshelves. “It smells nice here. Are you the owner?”
Seungmin stirs, stands up straight, his tablet forgotten in his hands. “Yes,” he mutters, doesn’t sound sure of it. “Yes, I am,” he repeats, louder this time.
You hum and disappear behind a row. He finds himself leaning to find you again, stare at you a bit longer. He snaps out of it almost immediately, clearing his throat. Three things, he grounds himself.
One, the beautiful girl from last time had just entered his shop, yet it felt more like she’d shook through the foundations of the building and was coming for his very life.
Two, said pretty girl rendered him stupid two seconds in your interaction. What did that say about him as a person? He wasn’t usually like this. He’s had dates, and girlfriends, but they never felt like this—a blow to his stomach.
Three. He absolutely fucking needed to learn your name.
“Are you looking for anything specific?” he asks, nervous, wanting to cut through the tension he felt overtaking his entire body.
“Mythology classics!” your voice is an echo, a perfect ring of a pitch, reverberating through him.
He gets up at once, jumping at the chance to be useful to you, and crosses the shop, closing the distance between you. You’re skimming through a thick book unrelated to what you’ve just told him, your eyes moving on the pages. He doesn’t dare disturb you, not at first, but then the more he looks at you, the more he can feel his heart attempting to jump out of his fucking chest, so he deems it dangerous business, and breaks the silence. Your hair is wet, he finds, he sees. He wants to dry it for you.
Dangerous fucking business.
“Those would be on the other side, after poetry,” he informs you, and your gaze devastates him. It’s bright, it’s glorious, it’s a place he’d want to explore, dive into, and lose himself forever.
 It’s looking up at him, waiting for him to lead the way. He blinks and moves. Your perfume is something light and floral and Seungmin wants to offer you coffee with sugar, give you books for half off, hire you part time, let you consume him. What a strange feeling to have for an absolute stranger, serving your heart on a silver platter over a mere ‘hello,’ and hoping they’ll accept it.
It terrifies the living shit out of him.
“Thank you for showing me. I loved this place when I came last time—I thought you just worked here. It’s hard to find what I’m looking for elsewhere,” you give him an excited smile, bending at the knees in front of the small section to pick out what you need.
He wants to know everything about you. “Are you a student?”
“English lit, fourth year. Aha!” you jump up, and Seungmin steps back, surprised. You wave the paperback cover in his face. “The Oresteia. Need to write a dissertation on it.”
Seungmin speaks as if in a trance, quoting the play he knows by heart. “‘This was always going to happen. She’s been dead since the beginning.’”
You’re beaming, buzzing, electrocuting him. Then you go right back down, your search not over yet. “You’d read this? It is quite extensive, is it not, and you need to watch out for the translations, some are over complicated, and hard to understand…”
“I enjoy the classics,” he admits, shyly. “You’re welcome anytime around here. To browse, or…whatever. And if you can’t find something, let me know. I’ll order it for you.”
“You’re too kind, bookshop owner, aren’t you?”
Seungmin stares, stares, stares—at the top of your head, at your elegant hands reaching for the spines of the books, flipping them over, inspecting them. He prided himself on his eloquence, his extensive knowledge of words, his friends sometimes teased him, called him a ‘walking dictionary,’ but what does he do with all this, when he must force his throat to open, unable to voice those same words he’s studied over the years, grown familiar with. They’re all traitors to him now, he will never depend on them again. Ridiculous, what’s happening.
You’re a customer. He shouldn’t be treating you any more than, any different. Why then did that one, singular smile of yours make a home in him, right under his ribcage? He pictured butterflies erupting behind you, wild in color, beautiful in their movement, flying too close to the fairy lights. This was unreasonable. It would wreak havoc in him, rearrange his world view, have him fantasize about things that could not be, should not be. Your lips, he thinks.
Cherry flavored.
“What’s your name?” he caved in. He wanted to pull you up, feel you under his touch, see for himself if you were real.
You got up once again, two more books in your hands, as you tilted your head in question, strands of hair falling in front of your perplexed face. “Do you always ask your customers for their names?”
Seungmin swallowed. He’d been caught. What he had—honesty. “Only you.”
You smiled again. He almost clenched his chest. “Good save. I’m (Y/N).”
He repeated it internally. (Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N) …he imagines it rolling off his tongue, your body under his, those delicate wrists pinned above your head, whispering it to you again, and again, and again.
Fuck him.
“Seungmin,” he extends his hand for you to take, trying really hard to conceal what contact with you would do to him.
He’s defenseless against his own desires, he realizes. He’s never wanted to take someone as his own so badly before. His mind was in overdrive, completely overwhelmed. You’ve exposed him, laid him bare—have your way with him. He’d do anything, he decides right then and there. Anything. Say the word and he’s yours.
You take it, kickstarting a whole new series of events and catastrophes inside him.
“Well, Seungmin, I’m done here, and I have class in about ten minutes, but I’ll pass by again soon, yeah? Ring me up, won’t you?”
You brush past him walking up to the register, and he’s left watching your figure slip away from him, so easily, no further regard to him, that forest green coat of yours flowing around you, your boots stomping with certainty. A fucking vision, you were. Stomping your way into his shop, into his life, into his heart. Oh, what is reason? What are words?
Metamorphoses, The Oresteia, Theogony. What you purchase. He hands you the books, per your request, and you slide the tote bag down to your arm, shoving the books in there at once. He watches all this, in awe, speechless, afraid to let you go, knowing he can’t beg you to stay longer. It’d be weird. And slightly creepy, he thinks but it’s more of an afterthought. He notices he doesn’t really care—anyone that would grant him the wish to stare at you more, to marvel at your cute features.
“It was nice to meet you!” You grab the umbrella again and rush out of his life, the same you stumbled in.
He watches in mystified delight.
‘Water is not a solid wall, it will not stop you. But water always goes where it wants to go, and nothing in the end can stand against it. Water is patient,’ he remembers reading once.
He becomes half water. He waits.
Friday comes. Seungmin decides to go to the Arms, straight for them, no second thought about it, one and done, but then he procrastinates getting dressed, looks for his watch for ten minutes, and his keys are nowhere to be found, so he takes that as a sign he shouldn’t go. It’d be bad if he went. He shouldn’t go.
Then he remembers he doesn’t believe in the signs of the universe and locks his apartment behind him.
Two beers, then he’ll go home, he tells himself. Just enough so his friends can’t say anything to him, can’t be mad at him, will stop calling him incessantly, whining about how he’s neglecting them so, and what kind of a mate are you, Kim, not a very good one, eh?
Seungmin thinks he’s a pretty good lad, actually. He helped Hyunjin move this past summer and has offered many a solution to Jisung’s never-ending on-and-off relationship with that indecisive girlfriend of his. Hasn’t committed a crime in his life, not even a petty one, not a traffic light. He’s never littered in all the years he’s been conscious about his person. He’s been an upstanding citizen, and a supportive friend. He’s just a bit of a homebody, and when has that ever hurt anyone, really.
The pub is filled to the brim by the time he arrives, incredibly loud, with a game playing in the background. He finds Jisung easy enough and goes to him, to that table he frequents all the way to the wall by the bar and slips his coat off wearing it on the back of the chair.
“Couldn’t have picked a Sunday, yeah?”
Jisung claps his shoulder and shakes his head. “You’d complain about any day of the week, Min, so just sit here and look pretty like you do. Hyunjin’s bringing us drinks.”
The baker’s hair had faded to a light brown from the August sun back in Seoul, his yearly vacation, and just as Seungmin is about to make a joke about it, Hyunjin enters his vision holding three pints of beer, muttering excuse me’s to the table next to them. Blonde hair, soft looking cardigan, tall, long limbs and all, full scholarship artist-to-watch-out-for Hwang Hyunjin, on his way to an amazing career.
“Would you look at who the cat dragged in—my God, Kim Seungmin, is that really you? Gracing us with your majesty’s presence? I must be dreaming!”
His ‘majesty’ sighed and grabbed the beer, an unamused look on his face. “You know, surprisingly, this isn’t making me want to show up any more than it makes me want to dump both of you and find new friends. About time, I say,” he drawled. “Cheers!”
The two men looked at each other and burst out laughing. “Cheers, fuck it,” Jisung exclaimed.
Hyunjin turned elegantly in the chair, legs crossed, mischievous expression on. “What have you been up to, huh? Who’s the girl?”
Seungmin froze, then reassured himself they had no idea about you, and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose—a habit that gave him away. The blonde ‘aha!’’d and bumped his elbow against Jisung’s, giddy as ever.
“See, I knew it.”
Jisung didn’t look particularly convinced, though. “Where would he even meet a girl, Hyun? The only dates he’s been on for the past year have been with his TV.”
“Ouch, bro.”
He wasn’t wrong, yet Seungmin wanted to let him know—about the girl that walked into his bookshop, has swept him off his feet. Just so he stops talking shit, just so it can finally set on him; that you’re real, that you happened. How you will never stop happening from now on.
Instead, he scoffed. “Fuck you, Han. You’re one to talk with that toxic shit you’re pulling.”
Jisung had the audacity to look shocked, and even appalled at the accusation. “I’m hurt you think I’m somehow at fault with how I’m being treated. I should just break it off once and for all, show you fuckers.”
Hyunjin casually sipped on his beer, palmed a few sunflower seeds. “It’s not about showing us—it’s about showing yourself, baby.”
Seungmin chuckled at that, chuckled even harder at Jisung’s blown out face, with the puffy cheeks and the big, wide eyes. He’d missed this, how carefree it all felt. It brought back memories, reasons why these people were close to him, why he could never get rid of them. They kept him sane. And gained him points with the ladies—Jisung’s humor, and Hyunjin’s angel features were a double threat. He just completed the group with the boy next door vibe, and sharp styling choices.
“Where’s Jeongin?” he asks, opening the bag of crisps laid out on the table.
“Late night studying, he’s already driving himself against a wall,” Hyunjin replies, a seed between his teeth.
“Chris has a late session, as well,” Jisung adds. “Music majors—perfectionists.”
It was at that point that you walked in. Seungmin hadn’t noticed you, not until his friends looked towards the door, and then looked again, making him curious. It was indeed you, he concluded after blinking several times, you, the most beautiful fucking girl in there, searching for empty tables with—a guy. A guy taller than you, taller than him, and fuck him, he didn’t need to see that, he didn’t have to know who you hung out with, if you had a boyfriend and how long you’d been together—he could do without all those things.
But now they’re overtaking all available space in his mind. Now there’s green inside him, eating away, molding, rotting away everything, and he’s jealous, he’s jealous, he wants you, he wants you alone, single, to himself, forever—
“She’s cute, no?” Jisung comments and nudges him.
For a moment, just for a moment, Seungmin takes off his glasses and glares at his best friend, filled with fury and green, green, green, but then he comes to his senses, reasons that Jisung hasn’t got a clue who you are, what you are to Seungmin, and so with that he breathes. He breathes and downs his beer, fuck the crisps, fuck the plan.
“It’s her,” he confesses.
Hyunjin leans in, suddenly very interested, and Jisung furrows his eyebrows, clearly confused. “What do you mean?”
Seungmin looks at you again, sees the hand around your waist, the casualness of the movement, and doesn’t want to jump into conclusions, doesn’t want the conclusions to jump him, but he’s fairly certain, he’s almost a hundred percent—
“The girl that’s kept me away, let’s say.”
At first, “No fucking way,” but then Hyunjin studied his friend’s expression, the unwavering gaze, the set of his mouth, the defeated slump of his shoulders, and his head tilted, his own mouth hung open, stared.
“I’ll be fucking damned,” he deadpanned.
“But who’s that dude, then?” Jisung questioned, hanging off the edge of his seat, thirsty for the gossip.
“No idea.”
“How’d you meet her?”
“Customer.”
“Kim Seungmin!” Hyunjin gasps, a hand on his chest, over his heart. “The scandal!”
Jisung rolls his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. Is she aware of your feelings?”
Just as Seungmin was about to answer, the entire pub breaks out in boo’ing, the team on the TV losing dramatically, the place vibrating, and his fists tighten at the sound, his whole body alert, aware of you, in the same space as him, outside of the magic of his bookstore, outside of the owner/customer dynamic.
“I’ve only seen her twice, Han. My feelings don’t even make sense to me.”
A devilish smirk spread across the blonde’s face. “I think you want to fuck her, Min. This sounds like an attraction to me.”
Jisung slaps his hand on the table and points at his face, nodding his head. “That’s an excellent observation, my dear Hyun. Kim, you just need to get her out of your system.”
Seungmin groans and gets up, grabbing his empty glass of beer. “Shut the fuck up. Anyone need a refill?”
The men glance at each other’s half empty beers, slightly concerned. “We’re good, mate.”
The truth was, he had thought about the possibility. What he’s felt for you he hasn’t felt for anyone, not this strong, not this constant, even in your absence, especially in your absence. You should’ve been just another English literature student shopping for books to him. That should’ve been it.
It wasn’t. It didn’t feel like it could be.
Waiting for the beer, he dared a peek at you. You sat with your back facing him, your head thrown back at something that guy had said, the other members of your party smiling brightly at you. Your hair was down, moved with you. Seungmin could bring your scent forth in his mind, the flowers, the sweetness that surrounded you. It physically hurt to ignore you, to pretend this wasn’t killing him. He needed more, he needed to pull you away, he needed to vomit all this out; the attraction, as Hyunjin eloquently put it, the heart stabbing, the turning of his stomach—the fucking boner he got first time he saw you in that dainty dress of yours.
He needed you to know, to make a decision. He wouldn’t sit still, there’d be no sleep for him until he did something about it, until you were aware of this, whatever the fuck it was, also.
“I’ll come back for this,” he informs the bartender, and his feet carry him before he’s even concluded thinking about it before he even sets on it.
“Excuse me,” he says loudly. The entire table turns to him. You turn to him.
“Bookshop owner!” you grin at him, and he’s at ease at once. He doesn’t need anything else. “What a coincidence. How have you been?”
You’re kind, then, you don’t shun him away. He’s chosen well. Seungmin feels his heart blooming, expanding, threatening to take over. You’re kind to him. You don’t know him, not as well as he wanted you to, but you still chose decency. Did he deserve it with the thoughts currently swimming in his head? Probably not.
He spares one glance for the hunk of a guy sitting opposite you, only one, not more than that, because he might be half his size, but Seungmin had always been exceptionally strong whenever he deemed it necessary. Then his eyes are back on you, and God, why did he ever look away?
“I’ve been well,” he touches his glasses. Catches himself. “Could I please steal you for a moment?”
Your eyes widen a bit, hands holding the table, ready to pounce on your feet. “Sure, but why? Is everything okay?”
Seungmin nods, offering you a soft smile and his hand. “Everything’s fine. It’ll only be a moment.”
“Okay,” you turn to your friends. Seungmin looks at his, already staring at him. Hyunjin winks. Seungmin blinks.
“I’ll be back guys.” You grab his hand, bringing him back, setting him on fire.
He tries to hide, push it all down, away from you, because he needs to be careful. One wrong move, he tells himself. One wrong move and that’s it. He opens the door for you, walks out after and into the chill of a September night. At least it’s quiet, at least he can hear himself think. One wrong move, it repeats, one wrong move…
“I apologize for taking you away from your friends,” he starts, walking to the side of the building to stand under a birch tree, almost completely devoid of leaves by that point. You follow, patient, kind.
“Oh, that’s—” you wave your hand, pft’ing. “They’re just classmates. We’ll be working together for a while.”
Just classmates. Seungmin stands up straight to that, in his full height. Just classmates you say, but that hand didn’t look friendly, that hand looked exactly how Seungmin feels about you, protective, territorial. You thought nothing of it, because that’s who you were, he could tell, you didn’t take things too seriously, you were alive, kind, kind, kind, what was another word—innocent.
He licked his lips, gathering the courage required to say what needed to be said, what needed to spill out his chest. He stood close, you stood closer. You were oblivious. For Heaven’s sake. This would be the hardest thing he ever had to utter.
“I—have no other way to say this, (Y/N) so, please just—fuck,” he chokes out a breath, looks you right in the eye. “I’m completely enamored by you. You have all control over this, you can curse me and walk away right now. But you need to know. I want to take you out.”
At first you just stared at him, the words slowly registering in your ears. Then, you opened your mouth to speak—closed it. Then opened it again, taking a step towards him. He remained in his place, hands in his pockets, afraid he’d reach out otherwise. He had no right, not until you gave him permission.
“You’re very handsome, you know that?” you say, placing a hand on his cheek. He doesn’t breathe, he doesn’t think. Your eyes are dark against the backdrop of the moon. Nothing moves. “And sweet, and interesting. I’m—nothing in particular. Seungmin, you’d get bored of me.”
“Never,” he’s quick to retort. “You’ve no idea what you’ve done to me, have you darling? From the moment you walked in my shop—that was it. I was done for.”
You shook your head, your fingers stilling in their caress, your hand goes to drop—his own shoots out, holds it, keeps it there, wills it to stay, desperate to show you.
“You really are very sweet,” you inhale. “No one’s ever said they want to take me out. No one’s asked.”
Seungmin doesn’t understand why, doesn’t want to ponder over it. He’s here now, and he wants you. He’d show you; he swears.
“I’m saying it. Go out with me, darling. If you hate it, you don’t have to see me ever again.”
You smile at that, your lips quivering. “Shame. I really like your bookstore.”
He smiles back. “I really like you.”
You bite your lip, and then you nod. “Okay.” A moment. “Could you kiss me, Seungmin?”
He needn’t be told twice. Pulling you closer by that arm extended on him, he closes in around you, smashing your lips together. It takes everything in him not to groan into your mouth, the softness of you, your smell, all driving him crazy, all intoxicating him, rendering him unable to think straight. You melt into him, something he loves, and he guides the kiss, his arms wrapping around that waist that he’s seen being claimed, bunching the fabric of your shirt in his fist, tightening his grip around you, devouring you.
He'd like to slip inside you, fuck slow, deep strokes into your cunt, bring you into a state of deliriousness with his cock. He can already imagine how good you’d take him, how you’d open for him. Buried in between his thighs—Heaven. Seungmin walks you to the bark of the tree and pushes you against it, deepening the kiss, his tongue pushing past your lips, exploring your mouth, tasting the ale you’d been drinking. He’s having incoherent thoughts now, nonsensical things; how he’d like to drink you, let the very flavor of you invade the top of his mouth, fill his senses, allow you to run down his throat, sip into his every pore. Fuck him, he’s whipped, isn’t he?
“There’s no going back from this, darling,” he pants against your mouth. “I’m never getting over you—never getting over this taste.”
You pull him back in. “I don’t want you to,” you whisper, your lips curving.
“Sunday, after six. Come,” he mutters, his fingers tangled in your hair, holding your head in place. You gaze up at him. “Promise me.”
“I do. I promise,” you kiss him again. “I’ll come.” Again, and again, and again.
Another day spent waiting.
By noon Seungmin thinks you won’t show. That it was all a lie, perhaps an illusion of the full moon and one too many drinks. Then he checks out a freshman buying The Iliad, a tote bag on his shoulder, the warm scent of cinnamon coming from the pale cup he’s holding, and he’s sure you will.
You happened, you will.
Oh, to trust that someone won’t drain the blood from your heart. A treacherous road.
He must’ve drank three cups of coffee by the time the stream of customers slows down, signaling lunch time. He digs for the wanted pamphlet in his drawer of take-out menus, and calls the number at once, ordering a barbeque chicken pizza with a side of cheesy bread. As he glances outside, clouds gathering already, the sky gray, dull, Seungmin throws his head back, sighing deeply, and listens to the cashier informing him of his total at the point of delivery.
“Thank you,” he says and hangs up. ‘Do you know if she’ll come,’ he wants to add, but he doesn’t, because that’d be crazy, nonsensical. Still, the question—it stands.
He breaks down boxes, organizes book labels and invoices, and even dusts the shelves. Five pizza slices and a heartburn later, Seungmin sinks back into his chair, and decides that time will not help him today. The anxiety is eating at him, at the tips of him, like a parasite, slowly making him sick, feverish. He won’t be able to keep this up for long, he wishes he’d told you to come earlier, maybe this way this endless questioning would’ve stopped by now, maybe the heartbreak would’ve been easier to swallow with people around. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle closing down shop with no trace of you.
God, the waiting. Seungmin doesn’t like doing this, has only done it once before–he takes the scotch out, a bottle he’s kept since opening this place, and drinks two big gulps of it. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he thinks he might have to daydrink his way to getting you out of his mind. And the rejection. And the outline of your body on his. No other way about it. Alcohol or going mad, his two options. 
Fuck him.
The clock on the wall behind his desk says five minutes to six. By that point he has no hope, no patience, no heart, no will–no scotch. He drags himself over to the door to flip the sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed,’ and he leaves nothing but the fairy lights on, an indication that the shop is closed, but someone’s still inside.
He’s not drunk but he’d like to be. One thing about Seungmin, why he doesn’t like drinking–it does nothing for him. His damn tolerance is too high. He can drink and drink and drink, but it will make no difference. Only thing he’ll be left with is a dehydrated, scratchy throat; more of an annoyance than a relief.
Seungmin sweeps, mops, then proceeds to put every single book in the wrong area back to its original place. That should take him a good while, he thinks, definitely–it doesn’t. It takes him ten minutes, because this is his store, he knows it inside out, he’s done this hundreds of times before, and why aren’t you here? You should’ve been here by now.
The glasses come off. He won’t go down that road, he can handle rejection, he’ll move on, you’re just–well, you’re…unforgettable. Haunting. All he can think about, all he wants, all he craves. Outside is pouring, thunder cracking, always a blurry watercolor painting now describing what’s going on internally, draining away any opportunity of you showing up. He tells himself he’ll stay until the rain calms down, until it’s safe to ride his bicycle.
He tells himself he will never get over you, but that the water will eventually wash you away. It has to. It’s six-thirty and you are nowhere to be found. A little more. He’ll wait a little more. Out of desperation if nothing else. He won’t be afraid to admit. He kissed you, he tasted you. He’ll wait. You’ll come, you have to. You kissed back. You–
You’re standing right there. Drenched, shaking that god awful umbrella, looking through the glass, pushing the door open–spilling into his bookshop like nothing happened. Like before. Like a story repeating itself. Forest green coat, hair sticking to your face, disheveled expression.
“I’m late, aren’t I?”
Are you? Seungmin’s knees almost give way. He exhales shakily, blinking at your drowned figure. You’re not. You’re not. You’re right on time.
“You’re soaking wet,” he notes, and comes back to life, taking long strides towards you.
You chuckle nervously, shivering, apologetic. He grabs the umbrella and leaves it by his bike, his hand staying in yours, tracing your fingers, feeling for himself that you’re really there, that you really came. You look up at him, wide eyed, mouth falling open, studying him.
“Better take this off,” he mutters, and waits for your approval. He removes the coat from your shoulders, shaking off the rain droplets, catching a whiff of that cologne he so adores. He’s a fucking animal, he can’t even be near you without his mind doing a complete one eighty on him.
“I’m sorry,” you start, watching him take care of you. “I…wasn’t sure if I should come.” His hands push your hair back, listening calmly. “Bookshop owner, I don’t–”
“Seungmin,” he cuts you off, his gaze snapping down to meet yours. “Say my name, darling.”
“Seungmin.” It’s breathless, it’s surprising. It’s perfect. His cock twitches in his tailored pants.
He bites his lip. “Will you let me remove your shirt, (Y/N)? You’ll catch a cold if you stay in these clothes.”
A single moment of silence, your eyes clouding with the same intentions. “Yes.”
He expertly undoes the buttons, exposing your white, lacy bra underneath, your breasts deliciously tucked in the cups, better than his dreams, better in every way because it’s reality. Seungmin wants to take his time with you, wants to take you out on a proper date, pay for you, make sure you’re having fun, that you enjoy being with him, establish a connection before he–
He thinks he can’t wait. He thinks if he doesn’t take you right here, right now he’ll fucking die. None of the internal struggle shows on his face. You wiggle off your shirt, and he lifts his arms to remove his vest. Picturing you in his clothes, in his shop, surrounded by your smell, and the smell of vanilla…a fucking dream. His Aphrodite, compliant under his touch, willing, those lips teasing, their pink tint inviting. Fuck it all to Hell. You look absolutely beautiful, the brown of the fuzzy fabric making you appear softer, if that’s even possible. He pulls you into his arms, falling victim to his own wants, his own desires. He holds you tight, your freezing body gradually warming up under his caress, flush against him.
“‘I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself,���” he quotes in your hair, his palm rubbing circles on your lower back, hoping you’d know. That you’d get it.
“Frank Kafka,” you answer with a breathy laugh. “‘What’s happened to me? It was no dream.’”
Something opens in his heart, tears itself out. There’s no stopping it. “My darling,” he whispers, and lifts you up. You gasp, his name falling from those lips. It happens fast, he walks you to the mythology section, in front of the window, a consequence he won’t think of until later, your back hitting the shelves, as your arms circle his neck. Seungmin kisses you, then. What’s there left to do? There are no words to describe this. You taste like rain and hard candy, and his fingers get lost in between your thighs, pushing aside fabric, and feeling the slick of your cunt. All reason escapes him, all but the sensation of your excitement for him on his digits. He kneels down, has to have a taste, needs to, for his sanity. His arm snakes around your ass and keeps you there, as his tongue comes in contact with your leaking pussy, lapping your juices, slurping loudly, shamelessly.
The back of your hand presses against your mouth, moans tearing through anyway. No one’s ever gone down on you, you didn’t even know how it felt, nevermind that it felt like this, wet and embarrassing, but so good, oh my God, so good, fuck, your fingers getting lost in the mop that is his hair, tugging, your breathing ragged, fast, your knees shaking, the smell of books engulfing you–
“You taste like Heaven,” he grunts, and his tongue gets replaced by his hand, as he makes his way back to your mouth. “Taste yourself, darling, see for yourself what you do to me, how am I supposed to stay away when–that’s right, fuck my fingers, go on, my love…”
There’s still water dripping from your hair, and he leans the side of his face on it, enjoying the coolness it provides while his entire body is on fire. You’re everywhere on him, he feels all of you, and his fingers curl inside you wanting that release, craving those broken moans he’s eliciting out of you to get louder, to deafen him, to fill the entire shop and stay, echoing over and over so he never forgets this moment, so he’ll always have you. You’re biting his neck, your nails digging on his shoulders, in his back, falling, going to his belt, coming to the buckle, undoing, all the while coming undone.
Right before you start spasming, he lifts you up again and slips inside you swiftly, cupping your face with one hand, his mouth taking yours in an open-mouthed kiss, cursing at how tight you fit around him. For one second, just one single moment, he does not move, no matter how much you want him to, no matter how you’re wiggling and arching, against all of his thoughts of fucking you into the bookcase to have and admire you whenever he wants. No, he marvels in the way his cock is throbbing inside you, all of you alight, in flames, and only then–only when you mouth his name, staring in his eyes desperately–only then he finally begins thrusting, causing you to wrap your legs around his torso, holding on for dear life.
“Is it supposed to feel like this–God, please, please don’t stop, never stop–”
Seungmin wasn’t planning to. Stopping was the furthest thing from his mind as his hips picked up pace, his thrusts angled, deep and hard, bottoming out every time, skin hitting on skin, your hot breaths mingling, mixing, one one one– You felt exactly how he imagined, and a thousand times better, Christ, your tits perfectly bouncing, your cunt squeezing him closer. Books fall, all around you, the sound of them magnifying what the two of you are doing, what’s in process, an altering of souls, because he knows this will never again be the same for him, this shop without you, it will always be more, more, more, he will fuck you over every surface, he will make you part of him, he swears, you’re never leaving, not when your juices are the only thing that can get him drunk, not when you sound this hot moaning his name, his name, it’s never vibrated through him like this before, a name, you make it holy, you make it matter–
“Cum with me, cum with me Seungmin, please, let me feel you, fuck, fuck, fuck–”
He’s your servant, he would do anything you asked. He comes with a ferocity unknown to him, panting, sweaty, holding on to you, drilling the last bit of cum deep within your walls, his hands holding, squeezing, digging into your waist, forehead on your sternum dropping soft, abenseminded kisses, and you let him. You let him, because you have no idea what the fuck just happened, you only know that it was the best thing, the rightest decision you’ve ever made in your entire life.
“You look so handsome without your glasses,” you compliment him shyly, smiling.
He carefully puts you down, adjusts your skirt, and tucks himself in his pants, before touching the bridge of his nose. There was nothing there. He chuckles, and his arms are around you again. He can’t bring himself not to touch you, can’t find a reason why he should stay away, put some distance. You belong in his arms, he concludes. 
You belong with him.
“So, I’m not when I wear them?” he teases, his lips on your forehead.
A weak punch on his stomach. He hufs a laugh, moving back just a breath so he can stare down at your face. You look fucking beautiful. You look like you’re his.
“You’re like a sexy professor with them on, you know what I mean, or like a–”
He kisses you. He’s falling in love. He’s already fallen.
550 notes · View notes
puppymlovemail · 1 year
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welcome to the post office!
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welcome to Thee puppymlovemail™️ masterlist!
before you read: please keep in mind, i do not allow translations of my work or reposts. tumblr is my only writing platform!
keep reading to see if the package you’re looking for has been delivered!
💌 -> one of jinx’s personal favorites!
📨 -> a requested fic!
f -> fluff/sfw
m -> mature/nsfw/18+
📬 -> to request a fic, or to just ask me anything, click here! i hope to hear from y’all soon!
₊˚ʚ ♾️OT8
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f -> baby steps!
₊˚ʚ 🐺CHRISTOPHER BANG
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no packages yet!
₊˚ʚ 🐰LEE MINHO
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no packages yet!
₊˚ʚ 🐷SEO CHANGBIN
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f -> snap out of it!
₊˚ʚ 🦙HWANG HYUNJIN
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no packages yet!
₊˚ʚ 🐿️HAN JISUNG
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f, 💌 -> i’ll be home for christmas
₊˚ʚ 🐥FELIX LEE
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no packages yet!
₊˚ʚ 🐶KIM SEUNGMIN
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no packages yet!
₊˚ʚ 🦊YANG JEONGIN
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m, 💌 -> you know i’m no good
5 notes · View notes
puppymlovemail · 1 year
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♫ baby steps!
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word count: 5k overall, roughly 700 per member
pairings: OT8! x fem reader
warnings: mentions of cutting fruit in changbins, brief mentions of work/working late/work related stress, CHILDREN/PARENTING!
summary: stray kids as parents. or just in a more domestic familial setting.
sorry some of these are RUSHED i just really wanted these blurbs out of my drafts! these are fresh off the printer so if u see any typos no u don’t. don’t even worry about it.
in other other news, i finally fixed the issue w my ask box so. it should be in my bio now! feel free to request something! or just pester me :)
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Christopher Bang
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To say your date night did not go to plan would be an understatement. You and your husband had gotten all dolled up to go to a red carpet event with the band, Chan even helped you zip up your velvet red dress and you helped him adjust his tie. Everything was going to plan until you were putting on your stilettos when Chan walked into the bedroom, caution written all over his face. “Sana just called. She can’t make it tonight, her car broke down on the way here.” He said, his right arm finding solace on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles into your collarbone reassuringly. “How will the boys accept the award without their leader? You should go! I’ll stay and watch the kids.” You sighed, taking off your shoes and running a hand through your recently styled hair. He squeezed your shoulder to get your attention again, your gaze immediately turning back to his. “Absolutely not. Jeongin can make the acceptance speech, he’s the leader after all.” He teased, opting to sit next to you on your shared bed. “The boys understand that we’re parents now. So does the press. It’ll be alright if I miss one award show for the Bangs.” He leaned in and left a sweet kiss to your red lips. You cupped his face, fingers treading through the hair at the nape of his neck.
The moment was quickly cut when your three year old waddled into the room. “Mama!” She whinnied, immediately catching your and Chans attention. “Bath time!” She said, smile gracing her features, her eyes sparkling just like your husbands when he smiles. “And story time!” Her brother chimed, as he waltzed into the room, probably in search of his twin. Chans hand left your shoulder and squeezed your thigh quickly before clapping his hands together and standing up. “Bath first, story time second, you know this Tae.” He stated. “I thought Auntie Sana sleeping over tonight?” Tae inquired before whispering under his breath. Probably something about Sana letting his have story time first. “We decided we’d miss you way too much!” Chan then leaned down and grabbed his mini me. You giggled watching Tae try to squirm away playfully from his dad. Your daughter walked over to you, placing her hands on your knees to keep herself stable. “Up!” She chided, making grabby hands with her tiny little fingers. How could you say no?
That’s how you and Chan found yourself on your knees on the bathroom floor, situated in front of the master bathtub. “No more bubbles, Aera! Your brothers gonna drown in them darling.” You scolded, taking the soap away from her greedy hands. After that, the twins started conversing with each other, sharing a splash here and there and sharing their bath toys.
Chan leaned over and kissed your cheek, pulling away and interlocking his fingers with yours. “I love this. I love getting to do this with you.” He whispers. His words immediately make your cheeks tint. “I wouldn’t trade it for the world. You and them. Not even for a silly award.” You smiled, letting the warmth from the bath and from his words take over your being. “Best bath time ever, right guys?” You teased, directing the question to your children. “Would’ve been the bestest best if Auntie Sana was here.” Tae said, and his sister chimed in, “Yeah! Auntie Sana doesn’t hold hands with anyone but us!” She says, point at your hand interlocked with your husbands, your wedding ring on full display. “Bestest isn’t even a word, Tae!” Chan stated right before playfully splashing them with some of the bubbly water, their laughter filling the air with such love and joy. Your kids may be giant jokesters, but you know they get it from their dad and because of that you, as well, wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.
Not even a silly award.
Lee Minho
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Your husband had decided to take your son outside to look at the fresh snow from the most recent snowfall last night. It’s freezing fucking cold out so you couldn’t even begin to conjure up a reason for why they’d be gone for longer than 15 minutes. Little did you know your son had stumbled across a kitten, no older than four weeks at most. The cat had crawled right up to your son, and laid down on his mitten covered hands. He looked up at your husband with most love struck face imaginable. “He’s purring Dad! Must mean he likes me…” He hummed, moving one of his hands to very gently scratch behind the grey kittens ear. “Or it could just mean you’re warm and it’s well below freezing out here.” He stated, sending your son a knowing glance. “Pleaseeeeee! Dori would love to have another girl in the house!” He whined, very carefully cradling the kitten in his arms. “And your mother would not.” But after those words left his lips Minho got a good look at the feline. The poor thing was shivering and mewling, no doubt hungry and cold. A stray. His big hand reached out to very lightly stroke the kitten, whose tiny glazed eyes sparkled with the snow littered across her fur. He let a sigh escape him. “We’ll have to take her home to get her warm, but after that we have to call someone and see if they’ll take her, alright bud?”
At that your son practically jumped out of his skin with excitement as he started speed walking straight to your front door, his father in tow, shaking his head, a smile smile gracing his face.
That’s how you ended up here. A few years later. Sprawled out on the couch, your back against your husbands chest. Doongie situated to his left, Dori at his right. Soongie was sat loafed in your lap. The kitten? A grown adult cat by now, also laid across your sons lap, fast asleep. Your son? Also asleep, and a teenager at this point. Getting to watch your son grow up with his kitten was well worth the battle keeping the cat costed the family. You could remember to this day when your little boy all but ran into the house with the kitten mewling in his grasps as he held her out to you, snow dripping down his winter coat and puddling onto the wooden floors. “We’re keeping her.” And then Minho came through the door, closing it before exclaiming “No we’re not!” You couldn’t help my smile at the fondness of the memory.
“What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” Minho whispered, leaving a fleeting kiss to the top of your ear from behind you. You leaned further into his chest, allowing the warmth of him and the cats and the family all situated on this couch take over your senses. “Would you believe me if I said my undying love for you?” You teased. “Absolutely not.” He chuckled, as his hands roamed your hair, lazily braiding strands together out of boredom. “I’m just thinking about our son and that damned cat.” You started, “Remember how mad I was when you finally told me you were thinking of keeping her?” You peered over your shoulder to look at him, his honey eyes meeting yours. “What can I say. She grew on me.” You scoffed, leaning your head back against him, breaking eye contact. “Either that or you just love the idea of this little family of 7. Whether you care to admit it.”
“Well technically speaking 7 isn’t little.”
You grinned, smacking him lightly on the thigh in retort. “Oh shut up!”
Seo Changbin
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You rubbed your eyes for the tenth time in the last three minutes. Waking up at 6am every Saturday to ensure your boys had lunches packed for their little league games was becoming a usual routine in your house, however it did not mean you enjoyed it.
Your husband was stood next you at the kitchen island, helping you cut up the fresh honey apples you both harvested from your garden a hour ago. Of course, only after having woken up the boys and telling them to get dressed and packed for the busy day ahead. Changbin turned to you, apple slice in his left hand as his right went underneath it, as it it were going to leave crumbs. “Open wide.” He instructed, flashing you a smile, his dimples on display. You fall more and more in love with him everyday, you think. You both certainly didn’t think you’d be here 10 years ago, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You open your mouth willingly and let him guide the bite sized slice into you mouth. “How is it?” He asks, his eyes glowing as he locks them with yours. “Tasty.” You hum, before redirecting your eyes back to the task and closing the tupperware on your finished slices.
Just as Changbin was about to close his two sets of tupperware, a cry sounded over the baby monitor placed on the kitchen table. Worry rushed onto your face as you grabbed the monitor without hesitation. Before you could utter a word your husband wrapped his arms around you, and let his face rest on your shoulder. “‘S okay! I’ll get him. It’s about time he got up anyway. You finish up here.” He stated, leaving a lingering kiss to your neck before pulling away and nodding his head to you reassuringly as he headed up the stairs. He knew how stressed everything has been making you lately, especially with your youngest just turning one. You smiled to yourself as you placed the monitor aside and finished putting snacks in the kids rightful lunchboxes. All of a sudden the monitor next to you lit up, detecting movement and your eyes darted to it once again. The quality had increased substantially since Changbin opened the blinds, it would seemed. “Hey kiddo! You ready to see your brothers play some ball?” He questioned, as he carefully reached into the crib to cradle the fussy baby. “Nah I think you’re more interested in seeing Momma, huh?” He hummed, leaving a kiss to his sons head. The toddler immediately rested his head against your husbands chest, finding comfort in his touch. His little thumb sucked in between his teeth. Trying to pry him off pacifiers wasn’t working very well, obviously. The moment left an unspoken feeling in your heart. Your thoughts were quickly cut short when you heard padded footsteps speed down the stairs to reveal your second child slide into the kitchen; heading straight for you.
“Momma! Are you ready to see me hit a home gun!” He giggled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head against your stomach. “It’s called a home run, Jun.” You teased as your reached down and ruffled his hair. He turned his attention to you and peered upwards. His eyes mirrored his dads almost perfectly. “Whatever!” He smiled, as he grabbed the lunchbox laid in front of you with his initials embroidered onto the center of it. Then it hit you. You and Changbin had only managed to make time for packing lunches this morning, you didn’t even check to see if the mini van had the kids gear.
“Hey! Iseul, do you have your baseball glove? Or is it in the car?” You shouted from the base of the first floor kitchen, only to get no response from your eldest upstairs. Tweens. You open your mouth again, preparing to scream a bit louder when you see your husband approach you, with your youngest in his arm, situated on his hip. He places his free hand on your shoulder and leaves a kiss to your cheek, making you complete forget why you had your mouth open in the first place. “Iseul left his glove at practice remember? We have to stop there before the game.” You rolled your eyes. Of course he left his glove at practice. At this rate, you were all going to be late to the game. As if Changbin could read your mind, his hand traveled to cup your cheek and redirect your gaze to him.
“Hey, we’re leaving early, alright? We’ll get there in one piece, don’t worry.” You leaned in and left a chaste kiss on his lips.
“How the Seo family makes it to every event unscathed boggles my mind every time.”
Hwang Hyunjin
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Work these days was wearing you out. Your boss had insisted you put in extra hours considering you took two weeks off a few months ago to celebrate your husbands birthday, which just so conveniently was followed by your anniversary AND your daughters birthday the following week. If you had to guess you’d just assume your boss hated people with happy families because he’s been working you like a dog with extra paperwork. When you do get home, which hasn’t been till roughly 9 pm every night now, you felt utterly and completely exhausted and guilty. Not only were you missing your daughters childhood but you were causing Hyunjin to stay home more often, or get off work earlier so he could watch your daughter.
Today was no different. You put the key in the front door and after 5 unsuccessful tries you finally got the door to unlock. You walked in and noticed the living room TV didn’t happen to have a K-Drama on. Maybe Hyunjin put Yujun to bed early? You’ll probably find him in bed hogging all the blankets, you’re sure his day hasn’t been very easy either. You sighed as you kicked off your shoes and hung up your coat and purse. “Jinnie?” You whispered through the hallway, only to get no response. That was until you stopped in front of your daughters room, her door left ajar just by an inch.
“Oh but you must try the tea! Mr. Rabbit made it all by himself!” You heard your daughters voice ring, there she was, sat at her pink table dressed in her matching hot pink Disney princess dress. “Well if he made it all by himself…” That’s when your eyes drifted to your husband. You couldn’t decide if you should burst into laughter or coo at the sight. There he was, sitting crisscross applesauce in front of the table with an Elsa dress on. Most definitely Felix’s from Halloween, you could tell by how it was slightly too short on him considering his stature, which his daughter inherited quite the same, one of these days you’re going to have to get her a bigger table, as she was already towering over it.
His pinky lifted off the teacup as he brought it to his lips and took a sip. A grimace met his face as he lowered his cup back to the saucer on the table. “W-Wow! Mr. Rabbit has exquisite taste.” Hyunjin said, very obviously struggling to gag on the tea that was probably a mix of various liquids in your fridge.
It was then that you couldn’t help but laugh as you pushed the door open all the way. Your daughters eyes lit up the minute she saw you, a smile eating half her face as she ran towards you, almost toppling you over in an attempt to hug you. “Momma! You’re here just in time for the main course!” Hyunjin joined her side, patting her head, standing before you in his glittery blue dress. “Oh also this is Princess Elsa.” She stated, gesturing to Hyunjin. You leaned in to kiss him on the lips. “Welcome home, Y/N.” He whispered, chasing your lips for another kiss. “Leave that out of the castle! No Mom and Dad kissing allowed! Now go get a dress Momma! You have to join us!” Your daughter stated before trying to push you back out the door to make you retrieve a dress. “Let me go with her my queen! I have to make sure she picks out the best dress!” Hyunjin chimed, stepping into the doorway before wrapping an arm around your waist and leading you down the hallway to the master bedroom. You heard your daughter say something about setting an alarm and you better not take too long on your way into your room.
“Sorry for leaving you here to fend for yourself for so long Jinnie. I promise that today should be my last late d-“ and with that you were cut off by your husbands lips on yours, his mouth dancing gracefully with your own. His favorite way to express his love for you was always through kisses. He pulled away and held your face between his hands, as if he had the whole world in his palms. “Don’t apologize! I love being your husband just as much as I love being a father for our daughter, honey.” You all but melted at his words as you held him against you just a little tighter. “Plus, she hosts the best tea parties in all of land, if you must know.” He whispers, letting his fingers drum against your cheekbone as he takes in your features. “She loves you.” You hum, getting lost in his eyes. “She loves us.” He reassures, leaving one last kiss to your lips before you’re interrupted by a voice in your doorway. “That doesn’t look like picking out a dress to me!” Yunjun exclaims, causing all three of you giggle.
Nights like these reminded you why you go to work everyday. No matter how relentless it may be, at least you could guarantee you always had a fairytale to come home to.
Han Jisung
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Your husband had proclaimed today as take your daughter to work day. This was in no way, shape or form a real thing. If JYP found out Jisung had snuck his four year into the company studio he might be found dead. But you? Oh you wouldn’t miss this for the world. You and Changbin had already laid a bet down for what you think would be broke in that studio before the end of the day. He argues it’ll be the mics, you argued it’d be the soundboard. As you neared the building you sent Jisung a text, letting him know you were close, as you made it to the front desk and through security, verifying you were here for your husband and no other sneaky business. You made it upstairs and into the studio hallways, your feet already knowing the way to your husbands by heart. Was it really your husbands? No. But Chans room was everybody’s room. That is until something ends up broken today. Then it’s definitely just his room. Your hand finally greets the handle and you push the door open, completely forgetting to knock once your heard Jisungs voice.
“Yeah and if you push that red button righhtttt- yep! Right there, it’ll start recording. See that blinking light up on the monitor? It’s recording everything we’re saying right now.” He instructed. His daughter held tightly against him as he leans her over the soundboard. She claps her hands together in enthusiasm. “I did it!” She giggles before he places her down onto the chair behind him and that’s when he notices you in the doorway. “Well hello gorgeous. Come round here often?” He remarks before pressing his fingers to the soundboard again and turning off the recording. “Only for super cool all rounder Han Jisung of hit boy band Stray Kids. See him anywhere?” You tease before closing the door heading towards him, he pulls you in close and you hug him tightly, your head finding comfort in his shoulder. “Lucky for you you’re lowkey married to him. No big deal or anything.” You giggle at his antics before snuggling deeper into his shoulder, your nose pressed against his neck. “How’s the piece going?”
“It’s going. Our daughters got some fire rhymes. I taught her to say swag on the mic.”
You rolled your eyes as you grinned and pulled back, placing a kiss to his forehead before peering over at the chair beside you. Your daughter was not sat there anymore. You knew it was strangely quiet. “Speaking of said daughter.” You said, resting your hand on his cheek as you redirected his gaze to the chair. “She was just there!” He stated exasperatedly. His expression was then met with a loud thud in the sound booth. You both peered over, your daughter hanging onto the mic stand which had now just unbolted from the wall. “Swag!” She giggled before puckering her lips and throwing you both a peace sign.
Needless to say that was the last take your daughter to work day that ever took place in Chans room. You were now 30 dollars shorter. Changbin? 30 dollars richer. But all that mattered to you was that your daughter never lost her quirkiness, and with her father wrapped around her finger, you know there’s no doubt she’ll ever be able to.
Felix Lee
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Waking up in the middle of the night was never fun, especially with the lack of sleep you already got due to your work schedule. What didn’t help was the way your 5 year old daughter was also trying to get used to a new schedule. That schedule being kindergarten. So either way, having no sleep was becoming something you were trying to get accustomed to.
You squint your eyes open and glance at the alarm clock across the room on your shared dresser. 2:34 AM. You groan, and roll over, hoping that snuggling into your husband might make this sleeping task less daunting, but as your reach out to feel for his waist you’re met with nothing but cold sheets. Worry instantly dawns on you, sitting straight up in bed you bring your clammy hands to your eyes and begin to rub them awake.
“Felix?” You announce loudly into the dark space of the master bedroom you both share, expecting him to be in the in suite bathroom. You’re met with radio silence. Your feet find comfort in Felix’s slippers, which happened to be so conveniently placed at the end of the bed. You trudge your way down the hallway, already knowing where your feet will take you.
Leaning against the door, hand grasping the doorknob, you gently push your daughters bedroom door open and it’s then that you’re met with a sight that melts your heart.
There he is. Felix, in his 5’7 glory, situated on a toddler bed half his size. Your gaze shifts to the right and you find your daughter pressed snuggly into his chest, his right arm wrapped around her, keeping her safe even whilst they were both unconscious. As you carefully walk closer to them you notice a worn book in your husbands left hand, which was already dangling off the pretty purple and gold princess bed. Le Petit Prince.
You carefully place said book on the floor, removing it from his grasp as you place his arm back onto the bed, by his side. Felix will always be your daughters favorite comfort, and just because it’s your two favorite people in the world, you reckon sleeping alone tonight won’t be so bad, if it means she can wake up well rested with her knight in shinning arm by her side.
Kim Seungmin
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You woke up to the sound of a slam, and instead of getting up to investigate it, you rolled over in your shared king bed, undoing your husbands hands around your waist in the process. “Min.” You whispered, leaning in and kissing his nose. No response. You could tell by the way his ears tinted pink he was definitely awake, so you kissed his nose again until you heard a throaty mhm? His eyelashes fluttered open slowly, puppy eyes locking with yours. He was unamused by you demanding him to be awake with you in misery, as he knew what you were about to ask. “Mini Min is in the kitchen, i’m almost certain.” You stated, dramatically throwing your right arm over your eyes. “Someone should definitely put her back to bed…” He blinked at you, but after a long ten seconds passed in silence, he knew arguing was fruitless. He sighed and rolled his eyes as he pulled himself off the bed. “You owe me.” He called out as he shrugged on the silk blue robe situated on the vanity near your bedroom door. If there was one thing Seungmin mastered over the past 7 years with your daughter, it was definitely Dad Fashion.
He shuffled into the kitchen and his eyes could already faintly make out the silhouette of his daughter in the dark, before an open overhead cabinet. “If you fall off that counter I am not going to catch you.” he grumbled, leaning against the archway in the kitchen and flicking on the light switch to reveal her hand in the candy cabinet. Little Mins head snapped to look at who caught her red handed. Whilst turning her head around so quickly, she started to stumble. Despite telling himself to stand still to prove his point, he sped over to the marble counter and put a hand behind her back to prevent her from falling backwards. “Thought you wouldn't catch me?” her voice chimed childishly with her hushed dove-like voice.
She sounded like the perfect mix of you and him. You’d tell him all the time that he better watch out because she’d make a perfect singer. You’d both have to agree that she resembled him to an uncanny degree physically, with her honey brown eyes and shoulder length soft black hair. It was hard to stay mad at her for long though, since her behavior was always so reminiscent of you both. "You better have a good reason for being out of bed." Seungmin said, rubbing his eyes as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her off the counter, opting to rest her on his hip instead. She clang to his robe immediately as he quickly closed the cabinet he found her rustling in. "What were you doing?"
Minnie looked away from him shyly before muttering "Nothing… just wanted some of Uncle Lixies brownies." Seungmin laughed as he casually started heading back down the hallway towards his shared bedroom with you, turning off the kitchen light in the process. “We ate the rest of those last week puppy.” He chimed, stopping in front of the bedroom door, fingers digging into her sides as he tickled her “You’re gonna have to sleep with Mama and Daddy tonight, so we can keep your crimes at bay.” The air filled with her breathy laughter, her head leaning backwards as she smiled in joy. “Whatever you say, Daddy.”
Yang Jeongin
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You sighed for the millionth time in the last hour. This car ride was pure and utter torture. “Hey! How about we play an awesome new game called stop kicking Dads seat, mhm?” Jeongin quipped, shooting a narrowed glare to your son in the backseat and flashing his effervescent smile to him. The 5 year old swiftly ignored him and continued his temper tantrum. You and your husband were bound to have migraines at this point. However, you had to give your son the benefit of the doubt, you were driving him to his first day of kindergarten, his first day all by himself.
In protest, you placed a finger on the volume dial on the SUVs dashboard, turning up the music loud enough to crack glass. Jeongin glanced at you before redirecting his eyes back to road, faking a wince as he giggled in fits as you began to sing (if you could even call it that) Can’t Stop. After a long ride filled with endless Jeongin song covers on the car speakers, your husband turned into the parent drop off line, hopping out of the car and opening his sons door. His protests died down once he got to listen to his fathers singing. It’s always worked wonders on him, ever since he was a newborn.
Jeongin quickly unbuckled him from his car seat before lifting him and placing him on the floor. You followed in suit by meeting him on the other side of the car and placing his bookbag on his shoulder. You crouched down to his height, hand reaching for his cheek. “Hey, baby. You’re gonna do great. Your teachers will contact me or Daddy if you need anything at all. We love you, and we’re super proud of you being such a big boy today!” You stated, locking eyes with his the whole time before leaning forward to leave a kiss on his bang-covered forehead. Jeongin watched you both interact with hearts in his eyes before he mirrored you and crouched parallel to you, taking his sons little hand in his big one. “Mamas right. Despite your tantrum on the way here, we will always love you. You didn’t hear it from me but I think piano class may be your first subject today….” He trailed, winking at your son. He smiled back at his Dad and you, his expression mirroring his fathers perfectly. “No way! I have to get to the piano room first!” He exclaimed, kissing your husband on his cheek and then kissing you as well before sprinting to the doors of the school, his teacher meeting him at the double doors. With one glance back to you both, with a big toothy grin, he walked into the building, likely bolting to get to the best piano in the music classroom. His teacher waved at you both from afar before following him in. You sighed once more, right arm wrapping around your husbands waist as you leaned up against him.
“He’s all grown up, Jeongin.” You all but whispered, glancing upward to steal a peek at your husband, but his eyes were already scanning your face. He leaned forward and kissed you sweetly for a second before pulling away. “He’s gonna be such nerd because of your scholar brain.” He teased before undoing your arm and heading to his drivers side door, and hopping back into the car. What a loser, you thought, as you rolled your eyes and hopped into the passenger seat. You can bet the car ride home consisted of Stray Kids songs being sung as duets between you two, and endless teasing was surely endured as well.
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
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fanfic really is. like. it really is about the community. it's about the comments. it's about the story you rip directly for your heart and bleed out on your keyboard. it's about the i loved it when you... and the i screamed when you wrote... and the keyboard smashes and the i can't believe you did that!!!! and the i'm suing you for damages like it. this is community. fanfic is literally. an act of community. the greatest act of community in fandom because it comes with such raw, overwhelming vulnerability. whether you're writing kink fic or 100k words of trauma exploration, you're just like. hi hello this is my soul please embrace it and people do. oh my gosh
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
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sleepy seungmin.
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one of the most endearing things you’ve noticed about kim seungmin is how he looks when he sleeps.
how his drowsy eyes look up at you when he’s drifting in and out of consciousness, the one time where his guard is all the way down and he has no reservations in showing how enamored he is with you. how you can see through the clouds in his eyes straight into his soul.
how his soft lips purse a little bit when he’s deep in sleep, forming a cute little pout that you can barely resist the urge to kiss off of him. how they smack a little when he’s waking up, or when they edge open gently when he murmurs your name in his slumber.
how his hands curl up like little labrador paws when he holds them right up to his chest, like he’s protecting his heart from everyone (except for you, showing when his fingers slowly uncurl as he senses you near and they reach towards you in a silent plea for your touch).
how even when he’s in the loveliest of dreams he subconsciously nuzzles his head into your neck or the softness of your stomach or wherever he decided to settle into that day. how your presence against him, the feeling of your skin on his own, only makes that dream that much sweeter.
how he drifts off sometimes while standing, leaning on you while you’re cooking or washing dishes with his arms wrapped around your waist. his head is lain on your shoulder and his soft, slow puffs of breath tickle the hair around your ear as he snoozes. his weight slowly gets heavier until you’re holding him up, and you huff as you tap your hand to his cheek a few times until he startles awake, tightening his grip around you as he stumbles a bit.
how he falls asleep with his glasses on sometimes, a book left open on his chest and his hands flopped to the side as if he fell asleep mid-sentence. and, knowing him, that’s more likely than not. you’d remove his glasses gently from his face and pick the book up off his chest, bookmarking it (with a slip of paper, not by folding over the corner of the page, you didn’t want him to kill you). he sighs as the weight lifts, breath leaving in a slow exhale as he turns his head to the side, facing you now like a moth drawn to his own personal flame.
soft hours
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
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♫ I’ll be home for Christmas
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word count: almost 2k
pairings: han jisung x gn?reader (reader is wearing a dress but no body parts are disclosed.)
warnings: swearing, lowkey domestic fluff, a singular reference to sex, if you squint it’s suggestive at the end
summary: the holiday season! hoodie season! sweater weather! but is it really all it’s worked up to be without your boyfriend home?
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Your fingers carefully wrap the last ornament on the trees last available branch. The little sphere decorated in beautiful calligraphy that reads Our third Chirstmas, Jisung and Y/N. You giggle at the cheesiness of it, the red and green acrylic swirls that wrap around the transparent glass, inside the ornament sits a picture of you and your boyfriend two years ago, in front of your first shared Christmas tree. You’re snapped from your thoughts at the feeling of pine sap sticking to your fingers. At the this point you probably smell like Santa threw up on you considering you’ve been decorating this tree for a solid two hours.
You step back from the heavily decorated 9 foot tall korean fir currently situated in front of the living room bay window. The sunset rushes through the windowsill and dresses the room and the tree itself with beautiful yellows and muted pinks. Sighing, you rub your hands off on the apron you have tied to yourself. The pockets in it worked wonderfully for holding ornament hangers, so you wouldn’t have to hop off the ladder every time you needed another plastic clasp. Your work here is complete. Jisung has been incredibly busy with schedules and hasn’t had time to finish decorating the tree with you. You can’t blame him, he belongs to the stage and you love being able to watch his performances during the holiday season but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. He picked this tree out himself two weeks ago, you recall, when you both ventured out to the Christmas tree farm on his weekend off.
“Babe!” Jisung whines, making sure to drag out the “e” whilst leaning backwards dramatically, closing his eyes tightly, and flailing his arms about. “We can’t get such a tiny tree! Think about the holiday spirit!”
Your fingers pinched your nose dramatically, “Think about how Bbama and I will be on decorating duty. You think little old me can decorate a tree that big?” Your hands gesture to the tree he’s dragged you to by hand, leaving your previous post by the 4 foot evergreens. This fir before you stands tall and wide, towering over your preferred greens on the other side of the farm.
“Um? Of course?” He states, hand going back to yours, fingers interlocking to maintain some sort of body heat as the snow fell around you both.
“Doesn’t sound very convincing, Han Jisung.”
He loosens his hand from yours and turns to you, mitten covered palm resting of your heat flushed cheeks, and he finds he’d rather rest his hands here all day if given the chance. “Have I ever told you how strong and fantastic and beautiful and capable and lovely and sexy and-“
“Alright! Alright!”
You chuckle, recalling the memory and how you gave into him once again, as you fear you always will. At the end of the day you’d do anything for him. For the little family you’ve maintained. He’s home, and if home came with a 9 foot tall fir, you’d have to accept it.
The one thing you and Jisung had been able to do together this December was decorate the apartment, which was evident everywhere you looked. First thing being the mistletoe hung outside your bedroom door, that you remember him insisting you both hang up for “ambience” but you knew he just wanted an excuse for kisses and to get handsy without you outside of the bedroom. Secondly, the green candles that decorated every table top that wrapped the space with the smell of a pine tree forrest which reminded you of the log cabin you spent the night with him at last Christmas. Thirdly, the wreath hung on your front door that you handmade just because you were bored, but Jisung needed it to be on the door. Something about having to “show the world I’m dating Picasso!” Lastly was the ten stockings hung by the mantle. Each one had an initial with gold glitter cursive letting you know which members stocking was placed where. When the boys came over to hang theirs, Minho had moved yours and Bbamas one space over so he could situate his next to Jisungs. You had teased him playfully about it all evening. The group even helped Jisung put the star on the tree when you had placed it in the house. You couldn’t fight the growing smile on your face as you turned on your heel and headed towards the kitchen, pouring yourself some apple cider sangria, favoring this beverage over your boyfriends overly spiked eggnog in the fridge. Taking a generous swig you take your cup and stride to the living room once again.
Situating yourself on the couch you decided what better time to text your boyfriend than now? You pulled your phone from the aprons deep pockets and sent a text.
Y/N: hey stupid
Y/N: everything in this apartment reminds me of you
Y/N: it’s been a week since i’ve been in the same bed as you. come back before i throw this tree out the window
Y/N: that’s code for i miss you
Placing your already half finished sangria on the coaster on the end table, you reach for the TV remote after switching your phone off and placing it on the armrest. You change the input on your TV to Spotify and start to shuffle the Christmas playlist you made last year. During this process, Bbama hops onto the couch, establishing his rightful place on your lap.
“Such a good boy Bbama.” You sing to him, fingers petting the spot behind his ears easily, his favorite spot you reckon, considering the way he melts even further into your thighs with every scratch. “You miss Dad too don’t you?”
Your phone finally chimes about five minutes later, but you’re out like a light from passing out under the warmth of Bbama and the winter blanket underneath him. You don’t wake up till a hour later. Your eyes flinch closed at the brightness of the Christmas tree lights. Your hand outstretches and flails around trying to locate your phone behind you to check the time. Once you find it, you find the messages you received 57 minutes prior.
Jisung ❤️: is that code for you miss sleeping with me or is that code for you miss fucking me?
Jisung ❤️: i miss you too baby! don’t take your sexual frustrations out on the tree. mr claus wouldn’t appreciate it
Jisung ❤️: i don’t know if i’ll be able to get home for another week. i’m so sorry baby
You sigh at the news, though you expected it. He’s busy being the superstar teenage heartthrob rapper he is. Running a hand through your hair you realize you haven’t even heard his voice in a few days, how are you about to survive another week? Chirstmas will be at your doorstep in a weeks time, isn’t that cutting it too close? Before your fingers can type out a response you hear the door hinges creak open. Bbama reacts before you, jumping off of you like a trampoline and whimpering the minute he makes it to the front door. You throw the blanket off of you and sprint to the door as well, scared out of your damn mind, that is until you hear the faithful baby voice Jisung uses on his dog.
“Hi baby! Aww were you good while I was gone? Good boy!”
Tears well up in your bottom lash line as you stare helplessly at the scene in front of you. Jisung, standing up from his crouched position on the floor with Bbama, his brown hair disheveled by what your sure was the winter breeze and his coat littered with snowflakes. This fucking tease. You think as you really take him in. Not for another week my ass. His eyes lock with yours as he straightens his posture as if he can hear you ridiculing him in your head. He takes his coat off and drops it to the floor, outstretching his arms. The tears fall as your throw yourself at him, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck, still warm from his winter coat. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist as you hold on to him like a koala, clinging to him like you haven’t seen him in eons. His laugh bounces off the walls at your reaction as his arms immediately travel around your back to keep you in place, one hand trailing up to the nape of your neck and locking into your hair.
“Were you good while I was gone too?” He remarks, and you swear you can hear the smirk in his voice as he walks you both back into the living room, his boots dragging mounds of snow into the apartment that you’re sure Bbama is already trying to lick up.
You chuckle, and pull back to look at him again, his eyes sparkling as if they had blizzards of their own inside the honey brown of his irises, he cracks a giant smile and then you watch his gaze wander to the tree behind you both. “Oh my god. Baby. You did the tree all by yourself?”
He looks back at you, his eyes now tinted green and red with the shine of the multicolored lights hanging over the fir behind you. Blizzard long gone. His eyes almost gloss over in admiration and it sends a feeling of safety throughout your bones. “Would you consider that me being good whilst you were gone?” You tease as you kiss his neck playfully. He hums softly in response before you decide to be bold and suck gently into the tanned skin below his jaw.
As if caught off guard by your intimate exchange, his stance stumbles, and a quick shit! leaves his mouth before you’re both tumbling to the ground. His hand cradled the back of your head before you made contact with the living room rug. Your arms still lazily wrapped around his shoulders, legs still locked around his waist, albeit more lazily now, as he’s positioned atop of you, looking like he just had the wind knocked out of him. Then, as if in sync, you both start belly laughing. His voice was just what you needed to hear. It was what really decorated your living room. Despite the hours spent decorating by multiple people in your home, his presence did it all in milliseconds. You were head over heels. Literally.
“Give me a proper welcome home kiss before he start biting each other my dear.” He says, his lips hovering over yours, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. You lock your lips with his with absolutely no hesitation, listening as his breath hitches when you bite his bottom lip to allow yourself to sneak your tongue into his mouth. He tasted like gingerbread, and ever so slightly of spiked eggnog.
“Yah! I said no biting!” He quipped, pulling back from you, taunting his finger in your face, trying to look menacing. He couldn’t even if he tried, with the way your lips were shimmering with his saliva, the way your hair tousled around your head on to the floor in heaps, and the way you were laying out before him, white dress riding up your thighs, the only thing that prevented him from seeing just how far up was your beige baking apron. How could he even try to look menacing when you looked like a half opened Christmas present that was just begging to be unwrapped completely.
You hummed up at him, bucking your hips playfully into his, successfully getting him to break from his thoughts as he bit his bottom lip at your action.
“Welcome home, baby.”
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hello tumbler dot com! it’s been a minute 🥹 i’ve been writing like CRAZY since y’all seemed to like my last fic but i just hate the way some of my current wips are coming out but TRUST i am still very much so here :)
once again don’t be afraid to drop something in my ask box if u wanna request or anything!! i’d love to make some tumblr homies :)
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
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♫ You Know I’m No Good
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word count: roughly 5.6k
pairings: yang jeongin x fem reader
warnings: VERY SUGGESTIVE! 18+, lots of smoking and drinking, mentions of being high and drunk.
summary: moral of the story, the youngest isn’t always the most inexperienced.
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“Have you ever done this before?” You say, taking a sharp inhale from the blunt between your finger tips, letting the warmth take over your lungs, before gesturing the drug to Jeongin with your hand.
“Of course!” Jeongin says, smiling ear to ear, grabbing the blunt from your hands very gently. He kinda just, holds onto it with his pointer and thumb, keeping his arm extended and far from his face. You really couldn’t tell if he was treating it with the utmost caution because he saw it as fine china; one fuck up and it’ll shatter, or if he viewed it as a piece of unwashed laundry he didn’t want anywhere near his face, let alone his mouth.
Jeongin, in fact, has never done this before. But he wants to impress you, he likes you and he’d rather die than look lame in front of you. Jeongin knows he isn’t dumb, he’s quite educated, and quite street smart. However, he knew absolutely nothing when it came to drugs. Or anything illegal for that matter. He wasn’t expecting you to turn up at his bandmates dorm, congratulating them on their newest achievement with a few drinks. After you had arrived, Chan called a few other artist friends and soon enough the little visit you made had turned into a house party. The funny thing was, you came here for Jisung, really. He was your bestfriend, but for some reason you thought it was best to take Jeongin to the roof top of the building, hidden from the rest of the bustle in Korea. He didn’t know what about himself interested you so much to practically leave the party behind but he was thankful for it.
“Then take a hit, pretty boy.” You say, finally exhaling your hit previously. Jeongin has to fight the growing blush on his cheeks as he raises the substance to his lips, and sucks in, hard.
Almost immediately after pulling the blunt away from his face he breaks out into a coughing fit, an absurd amount of smoke pouring out of his lips and nose. You let out a laugh, smiling as wide as possible whilst leaning your head back. Although he knows he just obliterated any chance he had of looking cool to you, he was more than glad he could be the cause of such joy. You may be laughing at him, but at least he was the cause of your laugh.
“Innie you absolutely do not know how to do this. Here.” You say, as you scoot closer to him on the cool surface of the rooftop, as the bottom of your thighs touch the cement and shivers multiple across your body. Maybe a skirt wasn’t the best fashion choice for tonight.
You lead the blunt to his lips with your own hands, and he looks at you with wide eyes, hesitant to break into a coughing fit again. The look he gives you is full of trust and it almost makes you melt on the spot. How he could still be so attractive, even after embarrassing himself beyond belief was beyond you. “Now very gently, breathe in. Don’t rush it, and don’t inhale too much.”
He does as said, taking a hit less intense as his previous one, feeling the warmth swarm around in his chest. If it were the drugs or butterflies he really couldn’t determine. Your face is so close to him, body too. He’s fighting his own morals to avoid glancing down, sure he’d see how hiked up your skirt has gotten.
“Now just as gently, pull it out. No need to blow it all immediately, alright? Take your time. We have all night.”
Jeongin should not have been turned on by your word usage in that sentence. That was sick of him! You were only referring to your drugs, nothing more, nothing less. Yet he knew if he stayed out here any longer he would have a difficult time trying to hide the excitement in his pants. He exhales his hit gently, watching as the smoke warps around you and your face, and the way your smile grows as you see his success.
“Perfect! You’re a natural already.” You say, patting his right shoulder. You stay sat where you are, knees practically touching his on the rooftop. You puff and pass for awhile, letting the drugs turn both of you careless. Once the blunt diminishes to nothing, you flick it out on the roof.
“That was fun! I really wouldn’t mind smoking with you again, Y/N.” Jeongin says, smiling ear to ear once again, however this time his smiled has stayed plastered to his lips since his third hit. You should’ve known he’d be a lightweight. That’s how virgin smokers usually tend to be.
“Lucky you, I have another blunt or two. How would you feel if we took it to the car? Hotboxed it.”
Jeongin blinked at you, trying to register what you’re saying and what it meant. “Sure thing! We can use our car. It’s got tinted windows.” He said, referring to the boys car they used when going to performances. You wouldn’t complain, knowing that car was probably far more comfortable than yours. With that, you nod in response to Jeongin, and get up, brushing off your skirt and offering a hand down to him. He gulped up at you. Your skirt length becoming more apparent to him, as for it being directly in front of his face. He took your hand and helped himself off the floor, stretching out his limbs, and shaking his head clear, or at least trying.
In trade for his hand, you linked your elbow with his, as you both headed back down the stairs and into the dorm complex. Once you made it back into the dorm, you could definitely tell this party had only grown in number as you walked in.
Jeongin spotted the various amount of people doing something. Whether it was taking pills with some alcoholic beverage, or using cards to form lines out of substances on the boys coffee table, there were just so many singers in this room doing something illegal. Stan twitter would’ve fainted at the sight, he thought.
“Jisungie!”
By the time Jeongin whipped his head back to look at you, he realized you both had caught up with Jisung. He was mid conversation with Minho, drink in hand as he turned around at your sudden voice. “Y/N! And Jeongin! I was wondering where my two favorites were!”
You both giggled in response. “Just went to get a breath of fresh air, it’s so… stuffy in here!” Jeongin responded. Minho excused himself to go grab another drink, and the both of you and Jisung followed him, wanting to see what was to offer.
“What’s on the menu tonight, Min?”
He pulls open the lid to the cooler they had sitting on the kitchen island. “There’s wine in the cabinet but it’s Changbin’s. I wouldn’t touch it if I were you. In here all we have left is seltzers, beer and some shots.”
Before you could even respond with your preferred beverage, Jisung almost jumped out of his skin. “We should absolutely do some shots! Y/N and Innie you have to try these.” He said as he leaned around Minho and grabbed a few stick shaped cylinders that were stuck in the ice that had melted throughly throughout the evening. Test tube shot glasses. You’ve seen these before, at raves and clubs. But by the gulp Jeongin took you could tell these have never frequented the dorm. Jisung hands you one of the cylinders. They were thin enough to be the size of pens.
“Don’t know how to do these either, Jeongin?” You chuckle, speaking before you think, the high starting to get the better of you. “I’m fully convinced you never graduated kindergarten.” You tease.
“Y/N, show him how it’s done!” Jisung screams over the sounds from the rest of the party, already tired of your banter with Jeongin.
At this point, Jeongin finally unlinks arms with you, impressed by the fact that you had stayed by his side this long in general, and also disappointed at the fact that you still view him as inexperienced. He didn’t even have to say anything for you to know that he had no idea what this shot was. He fights back the urge to sigh.
“Sure thing!” You reply, as you open the end of the test tube, and place the bottom of it in your mouth. The bottom of these shots didn’t open, they were mean’t for solo consumption. You sure as hell didn’t mind. You tilt your head back to the ceiling to insure none of it would spill from the top. The lights in the room dimly illuminating your face, your side profile on full display. Jeongin was frozen in place. As if this view of you didn’t make him dizzy enough, your next movement had him wide eyed. You place your left hand on the back of Jisungs neck, fingers easily slotting themselves into the hair at his nape. After a moment of hesitation, he relaxed as he realized what you were doing, getting the memo after having done this plenty of times with Minho tonight.
He bends his knees ever so slightly to give you the balance needed to allow the top of the shot glass to meet his open mouth. You then slowly start to dip your head down, body shifting in the process, and Jisungs head tilts with every move of your hand on his neck. Your eyes meet Jisungs as more of the alcohol is drank. The eye contact strong, and slightly prolonged until all the liquid in the shot spills into his mouth. As you move your hand on his neck to remove the cylinder in your mouth, a little bit of the alcohol seeps out from his lips and spills down his neck. You reckon you pulled away too soon. Jeongin was gone. This entire scene playing out in front of him had him standing behind the cooler to avoid letting you see the way his pants tightened. You wipe the shot traveling down Jisungs collarbones and lick it off your fingers.
Jeongin knew he had to get out of here, and preferably fast. Not only were you becoming too alluring, but the amount of drugs already suffocating him in this room had him wanting nothing more than alone time with you once again. He grabbed the keys out of the holder on the kitchen counter as you held up conversation with the other two men. Talking about the party, and if they had any other plans for the night.
“It’s still a bit steamy in here, mind if we go back outside?” Jeongin asks, whilst he’s not even sure who he’s asking, he approaches you from behind, grabbing two beers from the cooler and handing you one whilst simultaneously praying you don’t turn around and notice the faint outline in his pants.
“Not at all! Be safe!” Jisung nods and heads down the hallway, after saying his goodbyes. “Don’t be afraid to ask Y/N to teach you a few things in the future, Innie.” Minho says, slapping Jeongins ass with a teasing smile before turning to follow Jisung.
You let out a laugh at Minhos usual antics before opening your beer, taking a generous gulp of it as you head to the front door, using the back of your hand to wipe the left over residue on your top lip. “Let’s bounce!” You announce to Jeongin, as you open the front door to the chilly evening air. Even though you both were just exposed to this weather mere minutes ago, it still always takes you by surprise just how cold it could get at this time of night in the spring.
Jeongin wrapped your shoulders with his coat, that he had refused to take off all night. Something about seeming “too comfortable”. You almost miss the gesture, till you feel the added weight on your shoulders. You smile up at him, blushing faintly. You blame it on the chill wind blowing pass each of your faces, watching as it dances in his bangs. He blames his heated face on the drugs. You’re lingering eye contact with the boy is interrupted when the door you just walked through opens and a pair of idols walk- well more like stumble- out of the dorm and spill onto the sidewalk. Their designated driver follows after them quickly, grabbing both of their arms she looks up at you both. “Thank you for the evening! The girls had a blast. Tell Chan to invite us again next time.” You have never met this girl before, you were honestly confused as to why she was thanking you but Jeongin recognized her immediately. “Of course! Our pleasure! Anything for you, Chaeryeong. Make sure your crew gets home safe.” She nods at him, bows to you and the girls beside her break into a giggling fit as she all but drags them to her car, seeming to struggle on the way there.
Jeongin clicks a button on his keys and the black Mercedes SUV parked parallel to theirs, on the other side of the street, flashes its headlights. Definitely a more comfortable choice than yours to hotbox. You two also have a fair share of stumbles as you giggle on your way to the vehicle, making sure to cross the crosswalk on the way. He opens the passenger door for you, as you place your already half finished beer in the side door cup holder, he closes your door and climbs into the drivers. He forces the key into the ignition which revs as the electronic dashboard lights up but all of a sudden he quickly jostles the keys out of the ignition, pulling his hand away. He looks at you with his gorgeous brown eyes. You could melt in them if given the chance. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if we hotboxed without AC? That way it doesn’t ventilate.”
Your smile grew fonder at him as you playfully nudged his shoulder, “Yes! I’m sure the smoke will warm us up in no time anyway! They grow up so fast.”
An unspoken tension begins to pour through the car as Jeongin opens his beer, and takes a chug before placing it in one of the two cup holders in the front of the car. He places his keys back in the ignition again, just to allow the car to generate enough power to run the Bluetooth function. He gestures the AUX to you.
“As much as I’d love to play some of my tunes right now, I think it’s best if we listen to something you’re comfortable with, right first timer?”
Jeongin smiles at your teasing, brushing off more of your underestimation before he thinks too much about it and gets fussy. He plugs the AUX into his phone and you notice the song and album choice right away. If you couldn’t feel the tension between you two before, you definitely could now as I Wanna Be Yours by The Arctic Monkeys starts to hum through the expensive speakers. You both surrender to the sound, allowing each other to take swigs of your own alcoholic beverages on your own accords. Once you both finish your beers, Jeongins crossfade becomes glaringly evident as he shifts in his seat every few minutes and whenever his eyes shift up to you, you notice a gloss over his corneas. Not just that, but the way his eyes travel your figure with no hesitance. A stark difference to his usual shy composure.
Without a word, you pull out a container from your back pocket, and open it, pulling out the two remaining blunts you had left. You place one between your lips and grab the second and glance up at Jeongin, his face already closer to yours than previously accounted for. Given the benefit of the doubt, though, you both were beyond sober, and had no idea of depth perception. You bring the blunt closer to his lips and he opens on instinct, never breaking his eye contact with you. Seeing him so serious, without a smile gracing his face, and with such longing in his eyes you dare to say you’re turned on.
“Here," you say, finally breaking your eyefuck, fumbling as you try to pull the blue lighter out of your pocket and hold it up to him. ”Light it."
He grabs the lighter from your hand, and when his fingertips brush against yours for those split seconds, you feel electrified. Every sense is heightened for you both right now. Especially touch. With the lighter in his midst, he holds it up, places it between his lips, and lights the weed.
He takes a small, cautious hit. Sucking the smoke between his teeth, he lets it coat his lungs. Finally getting the hang of it, and not coughing up a storm this time. He hands the lighter back to you.
”My turn!” You say, a bit more enthusiastically than you’d like, as you reach for the lighter, but Jeongin drops it in the cup holder right before you could hope to come into contact with it (and his hand) again.
“Actually… I don't think you’ll need it."
“Is the blunt gonna automatically light itself or something?" You ask, impressed by the sudden boldness of the man beside you.
Jeongin did take your comment earlier in front of Jisung as… belittling. He wanted to prove you wrong, and the weed you’ve given him mixing with the alcohol finally hitting his system was giving him some courage. He wasn’t a kindergartener, and we wouldn’t be caught dead leaving you tonight with that perception of him still in your head.
“Oh so now you want to be a smart ass?" You tease as you readjust your position in the passenger seat, turning to face him with more efficiency. Without warning, Jeongin leans in closer to your side of the center console.
You freeze from the sudden proximity, the smoke from his blunt starting to fog your visibility.
”Innie?" You mumble.
”Hold on," he says lowly. "I wanna try something. Jisung told me about this before.”
Jeongin takes his free hand; and grabs the blunt he had in his mouth between his two fingers. "Open," he coaxed. Doing as you're told, your lips part, and he sets his lit blunt between your teeth. You close your lips around it, slowly, taking in the proximity of Jeongin, he’s so close to your face, specifically your lips, you feel like you could tilt your face just a sliver and your lips would lock.
“Hold it there." Again, you listen and follow the request of his actions but not without worry.
Your eyebrows knit together as you wonder what he's doing, this is all so sudden coming from him. You’ve never seen Jeongin so spontaneous. It was definitely obvious that the substances were effecting him faster than you, which was to be expected anyways.
Lifting his hand, Jeongin lifts your blunt up to his lips. "Stop worrying. I can see the expression on your face.” Jeongin chuckles before pausing momentarily. His eyes flicker down to your lips wrapped nicely around the blunt.
“Breath in with me. Trust me, Y/N." he all but whispers.
Jeongin sets the slightly smushed blunt between his lips. Moving his hand out of the way, he lines his face with yours and slowly leans in, meeting the tip of his blunt with your burning one, holding onto its base with his middle and pointer finger.
All of sudden, something shifts. He’s encasing the entirety of you. You’re suffocating on him.
You watch as the end of the two blunts brush together, moving so gracefully, like they’re supposed be together, as one. He shifts his head around slowly, making sure the flame coats every inch of your end.
You convince yourself that the warmth you feel is the combination of alcohol Jisung had you chug and the burning flames held in front of your face.
You feel as though you might be asking for more than you could handle tonight.
Simultaneously, as if in sync, you both look up and lock eyes. You breathe in together as one, long and slow, both coating your lungs, coming from the smoke of your blunts burning together.
He blinks as he finishes his hit, then pulls himself away.
As you both peel away from one another slowly, your eyes never break his eye contact. Something happened there. You both just inhaled the tension. Now you know it’s only a matter of time till you blow it all out. You finally breathe the smoke out; it dances around his face and bangs, just like you recall the wind doing only moments ago. “What made you attempt that now, Innie?” You chuckle nervously, before finishing another hit. “What’s gotten into you?”
"Just a wild guess but probably the copious amounts of weed we’ve been doing all evening." Jeongin teases, his mouth full of thick smoke, and yet his effervescent smile still outlines his face. "If I’m being honest I think I just wanted to see how you’d react." Jeongin admits, laughing nervously as he runs a hand through his hair. “Considering, you think I’m a kindergartener and all.”
You sit there, shifting in your seat. Not sure if or what to respond with whilst also patiently waiting for the tension to subside, but it never really does. You both sit in apprehensive silence as you smoke your worries away. Jeongin notices how the car becomes more stifling than the dorm was, not only because of the smoke warping his vision, but because of your presence within arms reach of him. You notice how the sky is adorned with the brightest stars tonight, their beauty being dulled by your lack of visibility and the lights of convenience shops and streetlights.
Once the sights get boring for you both, you turn to face each other. Jeongin finds this to be his favorite view in the whole city, even if he’s high out of his mind. The way your hair falls to frame your face, the way your eyes dance around his face, obviously fighting to look below his collarbones. He could never get tired of observing you, he thinks.
Setting the blunt between your teeth, you lift your head to the car roof and take a long inhale. Your view shifted but his never did, you can feel him staring right into your skin, even without having to look at him.
The silence is bordering on unbearable. You both feel like wild animals right now, afraid that if anyone makes a sudden movement or speaks an octave too loud, you’ll pounce on each other, in more ways than one.
Jeongin starts to get antsy, and fidgets in his seat again. The tightness in his jeans is straining, the pounding of his heart is loud enough to drown out how The Arctic Monkeys has stopped playing and how Amy Winehouse’s You Know I’m No Good has come on his suggested tracks. His lungs and chest feel so constricted he thinks they really could cave in on him. He’s certain this isn’t just because of the crossfade. It’s because of you. He rips his eyes off of you, opting to look through the windshield. He places his blunt between his teeth and counts his inhales. One, Two, Three. He lets the substance escape his lips as he finally watches how it dances around the atmosphere of the car, never disappearing, just adding to the smoke.
You take your last hit before placing the remainder of your blunt into your empty beer can, letting the left over liquid put it out on its own accord. You fear it’s finally time to use your mouth, it’s gotten you this far this evening hasn’t it? You can’t let it cower now. “Hope I didn’t deflate your ego too much with that comment, Innie. I just feel like I have to teach you everything sometimes. Not that I’m complaining I just-”
“I’m quite experienced, Y/N. I just don’t think you know how to come to terms with it.” Jeongin doesn’t hesitate to interrupt you, following suit with placing his blunt in his can, the car officially hotboxed (maybe a bit too much).
You turn to face him again, meeting his intense gaze. He can tell his interruption caught you off guard as your voice fails to stay strong as you speak, “Really? So you’d argue that your mouth is skilled in everything but drugs and shots?” You giggle, knowing that was in no way what he was insinuating, but you just expected him to give you his usual flustered expression as always when you mention even the slightest bit of sexuality.
His face almost tightens at your words. He adds what you just said to his never ending list of comments from you today, pinning him as a dumb school boy, the youngest member of his band. You realize you entirely underestimated him as he leans slightly forward, his eyes not leaving yours since your turned to face him. “It can be.” He whispers, his breath hitting your face.
You want to say you’re unsure why you feel like you want to climb over the center console, smash your face into his and make him eat his words. You want to blame it on the way his demeanor changed since you got in his car. You want to blame it on the strangely sensual music he has on his phone. You settle with blaming it on the fact that you’re just really fucking stoned, but you’ve known you’ve felt something with Jeongin since you first met a year back when Jisung introduced you to the boys. Ever since his eyes locked with yours, you’ve been mystified by him, and this little stunt didn’t make you feel any less entranced.
“Prove it to me.”
If almost like he was waiting for it, he makes the first sudden movement. He does. His right hand jolts out at the speed of lightning to rest on your cheek, his fingers locking around your ear and into the hair on the back of your neck. Electricity. You can feel it. Maybe it’s the beers, shots and weed talking but you can feel the sharp jolt ricochet through his palm and into your face, you’re shocked in place. Eyes widening as you let out a breath you were holding.
He reads the concern on your features, and sighs longingly. His speed stopped in its tracks. “Do you want me to stop?” He speaks lowly, his presence towering over you, his gaze however shifts from your eyes to your lips and that gaze doesn’t wander as he awaits your response. You lean upwards, pressing your chest to his. The electric current almost explodes. The radiation isn’t just pulsating through your face anymore, it’s going straight into your heart. His breathing staggers for a moment, refusing the urge to continue without your reply. “Y/N?”
You pry your senses out from the power outage going on inside your body right now. His eyes still focused on your lips. “Yes. I want-“ You lick your lips, “I need this.”
And just like that, you’re back in the race. Wild animals. Feral. He pulls your hair slightly as he pushes your face forward, crashing his lips onto yours. Not sweetly at all, no. Sloppy, rough. Behind all of this though, is the passion. You can feel his desire to allow his actions to speak his love for you better than his words ever could. Your head spins as he licks your bottom lip, and you gasp as he tugs your hair forward again, further into him, allowing his tongue to find yours. The taste of him is a beautiful mix of weed, beer and strawberries. Your hands try to find comfort somewhere, but they just look awkward considering Jeongins basically got you pushed into your door, so they find solace on his shoulders.
You definitely underestimated. You’re more than sure of it now as Jeongin places his left hand slightly above your waist as he pushes his hand further to the back of your hair and grabs a fist full of your hair. A small moan escapes your mouth as he tugs on your hair with more force than before. You let go of your tight hold on his shoulders and opt to take your right hand and bring it to his stomach. You drag your fingers upward, and your body tenses up when you feel his defined abs hidden underneath his shirt against your hand. He bites your bottom lip and lets out a low grunt that causes all your metaphorical circuits to overload. The electricity was burning you from the inside out, and Jeongin just kept adding gasoline to the flames.
Jeongin pulls away for a second, "Isn’t car sex illegal? We could get arrested for this, you know?" His voice sounds so soft, like he is telling you a secret that no one is supposed to know. “The drugs we’ve smoked tonight would’ve qualified us both for jail alone.” You whisper, voice lost somewhere in your body. He snickers at your clever reply and crawls over the console you’ve both been ignoring all night and leaps into the backseat, motioning with a nod of his head that he wants you to follow his lead. Before you can even properly slide over the console into the backseat, he grabs you by the shoulders and forcefully settles you into his lap.
You catch yourself by pressing your hands into the car window; your hand prints indenting on them, due to the chill and the smoke. With your sitting arrangement, you can feel his hardness hiding in his pants press up against your ass, making your breath hitch. He props himself up a bit on the door behind himself, where your hands rest. His lips immediately target your neck down to your collarbone, not allowing you to gather your thoughts for even a minute. He continues to kiss and bite your neck, leaving purple spots from the jaw down to your right collarbone, granting a soft moan from you. Jeongin runs his fingers up the sides of both of your thighs while his warm mouth stays on the crook of your neck. "You're so beautiful."
Jeongins hands began to wander as they rushed up your thighs and your midriff to rest on your breasts as he began to feel them through your shirt. Granted, your top barely covered yourself well in the first place. Your moans began to fill the space, joining the smoke. The feeling was just as jolting as his previous actions, your fingers trailing through his hair as he pulled your shirt down low enough for him to kiss the skin exposed above your bra. Jeongin leaned up and slipped his own shirt off before reaching for yours. As soon as it was off, he wasted no time in bucking his hips into yours, pressing himself harder against you from below.
You almost blacked out at the feeling, meeting his hips with yours at his instinctive thrust. Maybe you were grateful you wore a skirt. He felt impossibly big below you. You bit your lip, trying to contain yourself. Jeongin noticed this through his heavy breathing, “Don’t force yourself to be quiet, need to hear you.” And with that he kissed your lips hungrily again, practically swallowing yourself into him before he moved down to your chest again. He kissed from your neck, down your sternum all while one of his hands gently pulled the cup of your bra down, exposing yourself to him. Your legs tightened around his waist at the sudden exposure to his breath fanning over your nipple, making him groan. Jeongin reached around to your lower back, dragging his fingers down to the zipper of your skirt, when a rough pull of the car door handle made you both freeze.
Jeongin hurried and pushed you down, reversing your position, with him on top now. He covers you with his body whilst nodding to your shirt on the floor, signaling you to throw it on, but it was out of reach from your current position. "Jeongin? Is that you?" A muffled voice came from outside, you could immediately make it out as Chan. Jeongin slipped his shirt back on, which was definitely put on inside out, before rushing to his side of the car and hopping out and closing the door behind him. Through the door you could hear not only Chan, but Felix as well when his deep voice mentions something about Minho saying Jeongin took the car keys. After a loud “What’s on your neck? What are you doing in there?” from a voice you could tell was Seungmins, you could hear multiple voices giggling. You covered your face with your hands, blush rising to your cheeks as you realized not just one member, but the entirety of Stray Kids had just practically walked in on you two.
After a minute or so, Jeongin came back, his nose and cheeks bright red. From being in the cold or from embarrassment, who knows. He closed the door as he climbed back into the backseat, looking at you. The second your eyes met, the two of you broke out into a laughing fit. "How long were they out there!" You asked around your laugh. Jeongin grinned widely at you but shrugged, "I’d hope it wasn’t long. For your sake and for mine." You stopped laughing and smiled, "I think I really like you, pretty boy." He cocked his head and smirked before kissing you again, "I think I like you, too."
"Might want to put your top back on. Turns out the boys want to use the company car to pick up takeout."
"Maybe we should’ve ended up using my car instead." You said, finally being able to reach your shirt and pull it on. Jeongin gave you a look, "There's always next time." You rolled your eyes, "Oh, yeah, for sure. You replied sarcastically, "But next time let’s do this on a bed." Jeongin narrowed his eyes at you teasingly, "But we had so much fun…" You playfully shoved him in the shoulder. “Let’s go before the boys realize there’s enough weed in this car to kill a horse.”
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second fic ever posted to the tumblr… this is my first time ever writing something so close to smut, so my bad if it isn’t great! feel free to leave comments or requests or anything in my asks! hope y’all enjoyed <3 also ignore the typos in here if u see them, i did Not feel like going back to search for them 😰
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puppymlovemail · 1 year
Text
♫ Snap Out Of It!
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word count: roughly 1.5k
pairing: seo changbin x fem reader
warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of sex, slightly suggestive
summary: changbin swears he isn’t jealous.
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Changbin sighed deeply, his fingers twitching around his wine glass. His siren eyes carefully tracing the condensation on the glass as his eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t even need to audibly speak his discretion, as annoyance was prominent on his face.
"Problem?" You asked, already knowing his answer.
“Why would there be a problem?" He gestures to your front door with his drink. "All of this is just... perfect."
“Don't do this here."
“Don't do what?"
“You know exactly what, Bin. You always do this when we have company." You scoff, downing the last of the chardonnay in your glass before placing it in the sink, with 8 other sets of plates from this evening alone, all of which awaiting to be cleaned tommorow morning. He masked his scowl with a smirk as his bandmates slowly started to leave your shared apartment, one by one.
“We’ll catch you in the studio tomorrow right?” Chan asks, as he slips his shoes on by the door, handing Jeongin his own coat that was hung on the wall above the shoe rack. Changbin fakes a quick smile. He’s nods and hums in response as his lips meet with his alcohol.
The boys start to file out as Jisung holds the door open for everyone, making some smart remark about how if they make him hold the door any longer it’ll fall off its hinges.
Hyunjin side hugs Changbin as his gaze meets yours. “Thank you so much for dinner, Y/N. I didn’t know you were such a great cook.”
You can’t help but smile at the compliment from your new friend as you push a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
“My pleasure! Really! Make sure the boys get home in one piece for us!” Hyunjin returns your smile and chuckles at your reply as he leaves Changbins side and gives you a brief hug as well. He’s so quick with it, that the gentle touch is gone before you even realize it.
Changbin, however, made sure to pick up on it.
You can tell Hyunjin did it out of courtesy, and you don’t mind. He waves goodbye as he strides out the door. Once the front door slams, due to the sheer amount of force Jisung used to shut it, a heavy silence begins to hang in the already stiffled air until Changbin places his glass back down on the counter, pouring more wine into it. As he did so, you took this opportunity to slide onto the barstool to the left of him. Silence continued to hang over you both for minutes on end. With a bated breath, you extended your right arm to rest your hand on your boyfriends tense shoulder.
Before your hand could even make contact with his body, he stands up, almost jerking away from your affection.
"Why won't you pay attention to me, Seo?"
He heads over to the sink you were just at, and places his glass amonst the stagering others, those of which he'll definitley leave for you to clean up.
“Well it seems like you had no issue receiving attention from Hyunjin tonight.”
You fight every muscle in your face from allowing your jaw to slack. Instead, it tenses up. You chuckle lightly, a devilish smile appears on your face. Absolutley appualed by his audacity.
“Are you seriously jealous right now?”
Changbin scoffs, as if it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard you ask him, and crosses his arms. You aren’t usually one to be intimidated, especially not by your boyfriend. He’s the most loveable man you’ve ever met. He gives the best hugs, he’s the most attentive listener you’ve ever spoken to and he’s the type of person to block traffic to let ducks cross the road. But when he’s like this, when his presence becomes so engulfing, and his eyes dark, and he’s had a little too much to drink, you may dare to say you’re intimidated. You may even dare to say it’s a turn on, so you decide to let him continue the conversation.
“I’m not jealous, don’t get ahead of yourself.” He drags his hands on the countertop as he slowly begins to step closer to you. “I invite my friends over to enjoy time off work with me. I invite them over to get to know my girlfriend and what do I get from it? Not a single compliment, and not a sliver of your time.”
“That’s a whole lot of talk from someone who drank an entire bottle of wine by himself this evening, talked to Chan about the gym for a hour and didn’t even help me cook the pork. As a matter of fact, Felix was the one helping me in the kitchen today. Not you.”
“Oh that’s rich!” He rebuttals, head leaning back comically as he lets out a laugh so faked you almost feel humiliated for being the one receiving it. “If I recall, I offered to help you with thawing the meat, but you insisted we fuck all morning instead. You wasted the time you had for cooking, not me.”
“You’re acting like sex doesn’t require two people, Changbin. If you’re gonna complain about that, then I’ll let you take care of yourself every morning. Go abstinent.” You get off the barstool seat, and begin to head to your bedroom, running a hand through your hair and roughly exhaling a breath you didn’t know you were holding in.
“Where do you think you’re going? Walking away makes you a coward, my love!”
“You say the nastiest things when you’re angry. So yes, I’m walking away. I can’t hold a single coherent conversation with you like this. If that makes me a coward so fucking be it.”
Before you can get past the kitchen counter, his calloused hand wraps around your right wrist, and you stop dead in your tracks. It’s the first time he’s touched you since this morning, and it sends a jolt of electricity into your skin, injecting straight into your veins and ricocheting across all portions of your body. No matter how mad you may be with him, he will always be the only person with the ability to affect you the way he does. He takes advantage of your pause, and steps in front of you. Your entire vision invaded with him.
With his perfectly placed hair, his tight long sleeved shirt, his silver jewelry decorating his figure. He invades not just your vision, but all of your senses, rudely and roughly he encases them all. You smell the expensive chardonnay on his lips, but if your being real, it’s not just on his lips. The wine scent sticks to his clothing, and really the entirety of him. You can swear you could’ve heard his heart pounding in his chest if it weren’t for how aggressive his breathing was. He looked frantic like this, and you never want to rid of it. Getting him riled up only makes you want him more. He steps closer into you, causing you to stumble backwards into the counter. His left hand leaves your wrist in exchange for your waist, holding you still against him. In times like these, you’re forever grateful for his strong muscles, you’ll never taunt him for spending more time at the gym than with you ever again.
“Who said it had to be a coherent conversation?” He all but whispers, face mere inches from yours. One look into his eyes and you can almost feel the intensity of his love. If eyes could hold the universe, his would have the entire milky way in them. But the intensity in his eyes right now, is almost glazed over. You’ve seen this look from him before, and you could swear you’re addicted to it.
The silence remains once again, other than his labored breath and your heartbeat. “I’ll ask you again.” He begins, biting his bottom lip briefly. His voice remaining strong and steady, even lower than before, reminding you just how small you are when pressed directly against him. “Who said it had to be coherent?” With that said, you wasted no time pressing your lips to his. He accepted back immediately, the kiss anything but calm. It’s sloppy. Teeth and tongue colliding with one another, lips disconnecting with strings of saliva just to reconnect seconds after an intake of breath. Changbin’s arms move from your waist and travel to the back of your thighs, squeezing them, signaling you to jump up. He pushes you onto the counter as you do so. Your legs wrap around his waist almost instinctively, pushing him flush against your chest. He groans into the kiss at the action, moving his hands back to your hips, tightening his grip as if to ensure you won’t leave during this argument as well. If this is what having Hyunjin over prompted, then maybe you’ll have to invite his friends over more often.
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hello tumblr dot com!! this is my first time posting fics here! lowkey nervous, and still learning how to use the site right but i hope to make some cool stories for y’all! my asks r always open for requests. <3
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puppymlovemail · 2 years
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actual representation of me after watching the maxident trailer
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puppymlovemail · 2 years
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he was so crazy for this.
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I.N in ‘MAXIDENT’ trailer
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puppymlovemail · 2 years
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stray kids light of my life why did u name ur comeback maxident it reminds me of a maxi pad.
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puppymlovemail · 3 years
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via weheartit
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