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#han x lee know
sunoofairyofsass · 2 months
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Little tummy
(Short)
Synopsis:Lee Know is obsessed with Jisung's tummy when his cock is inside him
Warning:Big dick Lee Know,tummy bulge kink?,cream pie,rough
Pairing:Sub Han Jisung x Dom Lee Know
Lee Know could have came just by looking at Han.His naked body laid in front of his eyes,only wearing the older's hoodie.Jisung's hair was all dishevelled,the dark locks glueing onto the sweat on his forehead,his eyes were hooded from the exhaustion,but one thing particular caught his eye.
Han's tummy was bulging with Lee Know's dick inside him,which painted a beautiful view in his perspective."Hyung...it's so...deep..."Jisung's voice trembled "I feel s-so full..."he added,lowering his hand on his swollen tummy,whimpered when he rubbed his finger on it.
The older groaned at the sight,feeling his cock twitch inside him "You're so big...you're already rubbing on my prostate..."Han sighed "And I'm already so close..."the man whimpered.
With no prior warning,Lee Know started pounding inside Han,watching as the bulge shifted inside his belly.Jisung arched his back and yelped from the sudden action,moaning loudly the older's name "Hyung!~ Hyung!~ Minho!~"he whimpered,gripping the bed sheets as if his life depended on it.
"Fuck Jisung!~ You're so hot!~ Do you feel how deep I am!~"Lee Know grunted after every thrust"It makes such a pretty bulge in your tummy~"the other moaned from his dirty talk.Han rolled his eyes and stook his tongue out from the overwhelming pleasure "Yes!~ Fuck!~ I feel so good!~"Jisung moaned shamelessly "Fuck I want you come inside me!~".
And Jisung's wish was granted,Lee Know pounded him a few more times before finally coming inside him, filling with tummy with sticky warmth.Han came shortly after,white strings dirtying up the hoodie he wore.
Lee Know,now tired from the exertion,collapsed on top of him.Han quickly wrapped his around around the other, trembling softly as they share a quick but sweet kiss between each other.
"You're so pretty Jisungie..."
(Yeah I didn't know how to end this-)
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protectingstucky · 4 months
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minho really said han is his vacation home because he can go visit whenever he needs to rest or unwind and han said he’s a tree and minho the air cause he’s always around, i-
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hanichani · 4 months
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Pairing: han x gn!reader, han x lee know, slight lee know x gn!reader
Genre: fluff, suggestive
Summary: being besties with hanji apparently entails a lot more than just friendship
Warnings: complicated relationships i guess?, boy on boy action/relationship is mentioned but nothing explicit
Word count: 827, I really dk how to write long fics smh
a/n: I've been so inactive oh my god but oh well. merry christmas to anyone who celebrates <3 here's a little hannie/minsung drabble. hope you liiiike it!
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best friend hannie who's not really your best friend.
8:34pm ji: SOS
8:34pm ji: HELP ME
8:36pm ji: HELLO EARTH TO Y/N I NEED U
8:39pm ji: cmon i neeeeeeed u
8:40pm y/nn: r u dying
8:40pm y/nn: if not then leave me alone, im busy
8:41pm ji: but min is busy too >:(
8:41pm ji: and i am dying actually
8:43pm y/nn: no ur just a fucking horndog
8:43pm y/nn: text one of ur other hookups
8:44pm ji: but no one does it like you :(((
8:44pm y/nn: ur full of shit
8:45pm ji: u love it ;)))
8:47pm y/nn: ugh
8:47pm ji: soooo?
8:50pm y/nn: omw
you sigh, feeling annoyed but whenever he says, you’re always there to help him and you don’t even mind being one of the many because you know that jisung is a whore and nothing is going to change that. besides, you’re best friends, he’ll always put you above meaningless hookups (if he’s not too horny and thinking with his dick). the only person he won’t put you above is minho, let’s face it, he’s head over heels and simply too scared to have a proper conversation with him about it. but also, you think he’s scared that if they made it official, he would have to stop getting physical with you which is a close second to minho and he does not want to risk that.
you don’t mind it. to be honest, the thought of the two attractive men being together does something to you. and even when they’re not doing anything sexual, they make your heart swell. they could be cuddling on the couch when you come over and all you can do is scream on the inside because they look so soft and adorable together. holding each other close, their fingers intertwined while minho teases jisung by letting go of his hand every now and then and then both of them staring at their fingers brushing against each other in slow motion when they connect them again. they should get married. safe to say you’re their number one shipper.
so maybe that’s why it’s so natural for you and jisung to fuck around. you love him and he loves you but you both know it’s strictly platonic, right? jisung could be giving you head and muttering about how minho held his hand in public the other day and how that’s definitely a good sign to which you can only respond with loud sighs and nods of acknowledgment that jisung can’t see anyways.
another time, you could be riding jisung, discussing the outcomes of jisung actually confessing to minho. it’s just a casual conversation between friends…while they’re fucking.
and you're not bothered by it because minho is a very attractive man so thinking about him during sex only gets you going more.
sometimes it spirals into jisung talking about how you should definitely try having a threesome and that’s where the lines blur for you because no way would jisung ever let you do anything with minho. he’s way too possessive over the man and it makes you think that jisung has to have some sort of feelings for you to even think about that. but that thought is gone the next time you’re hanging out at his dorm and he charges in, holding the hand of an unknown girl, heading straight into his bedroom.
so yea, best friend jisung who strangers think you’re dating because they don’t know you two that well (they also think he’s dating minho which leads to them thinking the three of you are a poly couple).
best friend jisung who starts making out with you just because he’s had a long day and wants to take his mind off of it. best friend jisung who slides his hands under your tshirt on the daily “because he’s cold”… while he’s just horny. best friend jisung who plays matchmaker, trying to hook you up with his members only to fuck you senseless later that evening.
best friend jisung who coos at you whenever you get sleepy in his arms and thinks he could eat you up right then and there. best friend jisung who kisses you awake after a night spent together, peppering kisses all over your face.
best friend jisung who thinks about what it would be like if you joined him and minho in bed. best friend jisung who has thought about what it would be like to call both you and minho his. best friend jisung who has the exact same relationship with minho as he does with you. and best friend jisung who does not know how to confess to either of you so he plays it off as having platonic relationships with both you and minho while gushing to min about you and vice versa. best friend jisung who is in love with both of his best friends and does not know what the fuck to do.
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starazorr · 3 months
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♡ Quarteback's fine
🗓️ 20/01/2024 | doação
— 💬 Se inspirou? Me credite!
inspo. by @mercuryport
note's: 1° dia, música do seu grupo masculino favorito e cara, Wallows é minha serotonina nos dias que eu mais necessito, eu raramente vejo alguém falando deles e umas das suas músicas só deu bom por conta da Clairo, mas assim, Quartebacks é a minha favorita e eles são os meus favoritos, só apreciem.
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miserya99 · 4 months
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"To me, Han is like a vacation house. I can go to him when I want to unwind" - Lee Know
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Hey again 👋
New Year new drawing !
To celebrate the last two kids show, I wanted to illustrate our lovely Minsung sleeping peacefully in the morning’s light
Hope you’ll like it 🥰
🏷️ Feel free to share ! I don’t post often but if you want to be added to a taglist let me know !
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hyunnieshannie · 5 months
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A Tribute to the Game Makers. [teaser]
Coming soon: AO3 Pairing: MinSung | Many Side Pairings. Hunger Games AU
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Tags @chanlixiiee @amalieworldidk @jaebaebaegot7 @maeleelee @iadorethemskz @maenijw @hangin-out-with-the-street-rats @jinniespuppy @painstakingly-juno @lethallyprotected @elizalabs3 @jisungsbff01 @seungminslittlepup @lieghscloud @foxinnie8 @scarletbedlam @kpoppin-to-the-beat @stay-berry @bbymatz @kurxxmi @skzstaykatsy
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clueless-writer · 2 months
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All in progress stories are being updated today!!
Hope you’ve had a great week💙
I’ve been feeling down in the dumps about my stories. So I haven’t been spending much time writing and normal.
I hope you have a great weekend and enjoy the updates 💙
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chanrmer · 11 months
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someone forgot about their anniversary dinner so the other party decided to make a scene
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Drawing prompt from mnsvngwriters tweet
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pandapeachfuzz · 1 year
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MinSung short story generated by A.I
This story was generated by A.I with the prompt - “please make a short stray kids fanfiction story between Lee Know and Han”. 
Enjoy the short and sweet refreshing cuteness. 
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Lee Know and Han were sitting in the practice room, working on a new song. They had been working for hours and were starting to get a little tired, but they were determined to finish the song.
"I think we're getting close," Lee Know said, looking up from his guitar. "Just a few more tweaks and I think we'll have it."
Han nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think so too. Let's keep going."
They continued to work, their fingers moving quickly over their instruments. Suddenly, Han stopped playing and turned to Lee Know.
"Hey, do you want to take a break?" he asked. "We've been at this for a while and I could use some fresh air."
Lee Know hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good. Let's take a walk outside and clear our heads."
They gathered their things and headed outside, the cool evening air refreshing after the stuffy practice room. They walked in silence for a while, taking in the sights and sounds of the city.
Finally, Lee Know turned to Han and spoke up. "You know, I really appreciate you as a member of Stray Kids and as my friend. You always push me to be my best and I'm so grateful for that."
Han smiled at him. "I feel the same way. You're a great friend and an amazing musician. I'm glad we're in this together."
They walked on, their friendship and appreciation for each other strengthening with every step.
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starlostjimin · 1 year
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Title: spring for the first time Chapter 1/? WC: Chapter Rating: T Fandom: Stray Kids Pairing: Han Jisung/Lee Minho Tags/warnings: feelings of internal shame about virginity, societal pressure, gay awakening, assumed heterosexuality (joke's on them), magic, mind reading, innuendo, mythology (or is it?), best friend!hyunjin, workplace au, light urban fantasy au, i guess, fluff, possible smut later in the fic i haven't decided yet, currently SFW Summary: The day before Jisung's thirtieth birthday, Hyunjin tells him an old wives' tale about people who are virgins when they turn thirty. A shy accountant just trying to make it through life, Jisung brushes him off.
Until he wakes up the next day and hears things he definitely shouldn't be able to.
Or: Cherry Magic: Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard!....but make it minsung
next chapter
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The office buzzed around him as Jisung tried to concentrate on the spreadsheet in front of him. On the other side of the room, the sales department was celebrating another big contract brought in by Lee Minho, the star of the office. Minho was everything Jisung wanted to be - incredible at his job, personable, good-looking, well-liked among the male coworkers and…popular among the female coworkers. Jisung thought he remembered hearing about Minho winning some athletics award in his school years, because of course he did. Jisung had only spoken with him once or twice, and while he remembered every detail, he was sure that the more popular man didn’t. They had been brief, work related encounters that had left Jisung with the speeding heartbeat that his anxiety always caused. 
“Oh, thank god,” Jisung mumbled as he watched the computer’s clock tick over to 5. Between the office being A Lot during celebrations, he’d also had his brain stuck on a joke Hyunjin had made at lunch. A stupid joke. Something not even remotely based in reality. 
And yet Jisung couldn’t shake it. 
“You’d better hurry up and get a girlfriend tonight,” Hyunjin said. 
Jisung raised an eyebrow. “What? I mean, we both know that’s not going to happen, so why all of a sudden?” 
“Don’t you know the old stories? If you’re still a virgin when you turn thirty, you get superpowers.” Hyunjin grinned. “We both know you couldn’t handle that.” 
“You’re the worst friend ever,” Jisung pouted. 
“You love me,” Hyunjin said, patting his best friend on the hand. 
It was stupid. So stupid. Only children believed in superpowers - which may have been the point, Jisung considered. Promise them superpowers so they don’t start sleeping around young. It made sense. And yet here he was, on the precipice of thirty, and he’d never even dated anyone, let alone had sex. He’d never met a girl he was attracted to, and even if he had, he was sure his anxiety would have kept him from doing anything about it. He sometimes thought it would be nice to have someone to come home to who would understand him, but opening up to someone? That was dangerous, plain and simple. Besides, he had little to offer in the dating department. His apartment was tiny, he walked everywhere, and he was pretty sure he was severely underpaid but too afraid to ask for a raise. Not exactly a prize. 
Jisung sighed and kicked a rock that was in his path. If he could be more like Minho, that would probably help. Everybody loved Lee Minho, and Jisung was sure he hadn’t gotten superpowers on his thirtieth birthday. Jisung tried to imagine himself smiling at his coworkers, expressing greetings that were more than the bare minimum needed to be polite. 
He couldn’t do it. Imagination-Jisung still stumbled over his words, still had hair out of place, still had a crooked tie. “Even in my imagination I’m a loser,” he muttered as he turned onto his street. Stopping briefly into the convenience store at the end of his block to pick up something to eat, he finished his short walk home, ready to change into pyjamas and sit in his bed with a movie playing until he fell asleep. 
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His alarm blared, startling Jisung out of sleep. He wished briefly that he’d booked his birthday off like most people did - he was lucky with his workplace in that sense. But he hadn’t, knowing that 1. He wouldn’t have plans anyway and 2. He would probably, as always, have a huge stack of paperwork to get through. 
He was right on both counts. Jisung rolled over and shut off the alarm, rolling out of bed and rubbing his eyes as he headed to the bathroom to wash up. Staring at himself in the mirror, he wondered for a moment why people made such a big deal about birthdays. He looked exactly the same as he had yesterday. He woke up at the same time, he was going to put on the same suit he always wore to work, and he’d stop at his usual food truck on the way to pick up some breakfast for the walk over. Absolutely nothing had changed about him. 
Unless…Jisung cracked a slight smile at the thought. He jumped up and down a few times. It appeared flying and levitating were out. He stared hard at the sink. Turn on! He thought. Water!! He tried again. The sink stubbornly refused to turn itself on. “I guess I can rule out superpowers,” he chuckled as he put toothpaste on his toothbrush. 
“Morning, Jisung,” the owner of the food truck said as he approached. 
“Morning,” he said. 
“I’ve already got it ready for you,” the older man said, holding out a small bag. Jisung grinned. “Thank you. I guess I’m a little predictable, huh?” 
“8:00am, on the dot. I can practically set my clock by you,” the owner said with a laugh. As he tapped his phone against the pin pad, Jisung reached out to take the bag from the other man. When he did, his fingers brushed against his hand. 
This poor kid. He seems to live such a boring life. He’s young! He should be dating a nice girl. 
Jisung’s head shot up and he stared at the man, who was smiling back at him. 
“Something wrong?” he asked. 
“No, uh, I…just thought you said something. I’m going to have to make an extra coffee when I get to work. Didn’t sleep well last night. Thanks, bye!” Jisung left the truck, walking quicker than normal towards his office. He was sure he’d heard the old man saying something about his life being boring, but the man had clearly not been speaking. Jisung shook his head and kept walking quickly, eager to get into the safe space that was his cubicle. 
While he waited for the elevator, Jisung pulled out his phone to check his texts. As expected, there were two. One from Hyunjin, one from his mother, both wishing him a happy birthday. He smiled a tight, close-lipped smile at the screen as he tapped out a quick thank you to his mother, and made up his mind to call her later. He shoved his phone back in his pocket just as the elevator door slid open in front of him. It was packed, as always. Jisung held himself as steady as possible. The last thing he needed was to accidentally touch someone inappropriately if he got jostled by another person. 
He didn’t account for gravity. 
The old elevator shuddered to a stop at the next floor, throwing off Jisung’s balance and sending him stumbling into the person to his left. 
Oh my god, it’s him. 
The voice was familiar, but Jisung couldn’t place it. He looked up and found himself locking eyes with none other than Lee Minho. The man’s eyes were wide and Jisung worried he’d stepped on the other man’s foot. That was the last thing he needed. 
“Ah! Uh, I’m sorry, I lost my balance,” Jisung stammered out. 
He’s so cute. 
The voice again. Minho’s voice. But Jisung was literally looking at his face, and Minho wasn’t talking. It was then that he realized Minho’s hand was on his arm, steadying him. The elevator started again, jolting Jisung out of his thoughts. He stepped back, thankful for the feeling of Minho’s hand dropping off his arm. At the next floor, he rushed off the elevator, despite still being several floors away from his own. I’m going to have a great ass after taking the stairs to the tenth floor for the rest of my life, he thought to himself.
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planetlino1 · 1 year
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Crash and Burn ⋆ Chapter One
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Operation “Get Our Money Back” [link]
4.8k words [21k+ total], rated mature [soon to-be e!], ongoing
Jisung (Han) finds himself in a sticky situation after being rudely interrogated by co-bosses Yoongi (Agust D) and Chan (CB97) following a robbery from a rival gang.
Chapter Tags: Gun Violence, Non-Explicit Sex, Drug Usage
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protectingstucky · 1 year
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˗ˏˋ my fave minsung ficsˎˊ˗
untouched 
touch the stars
you've got something on your lips
as long as i can
I keep you in the soft moonlight~
soul unfolds
let the spotlight dim and the night recede
set wide the window
all these ephemeral things
mind in the gutter, heart in your hands
you bring the stars out
Ode to Blue
Cradle me to sweet death
might be love
tonight is for the two of us
Labyrinth, Ending
see / be seen
someone’s maybe
(when i look at you) heaven’s on fire
head, life, heart
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forlix · 4 months
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· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞
— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.
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words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO
a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (。˃ ᵕ ˂ )
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chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.
but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.
fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.
the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”
“wha—huh? what is?”
“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”
your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.
“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”
no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”
he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.
“you’re…embarrassed?”
the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.
“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”
“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”
“i know, right? i was just about to say.”
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minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.
but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).
you take it into your own hands. literally.
you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.
he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.
“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!
minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.
but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.
you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”
minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.
you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.
(good luck.)
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changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.
your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—
“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.
that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.
you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.
you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date. 
no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.
han turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.
the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.
“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”
you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.
he loses it.
the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.
chan and han look at each other, sigh. han takes a video.
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hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.
on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.
on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.
the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.
hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.
then, she flirts with him.
from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.
your fork clatters to your plate.
FUCK time and place.
the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.
you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.
once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice.
“you’re so fucking sexy, holy shit.”
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jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.
you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.
finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.
“baby, your mouth is open.”
you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”
“what do you mean?”
“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”
jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”
“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”
jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”
“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”
it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.
“do i actually?”
“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”
“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”
the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.
you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.
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felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.
he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.
it returned to the forefront right before bed.
“you do it when you’re nervous?”
“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”
“what, checking my pulse?”
“mine.”
you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.
the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.
“well?” he whispered.
“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”
“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.
the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.
two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.
felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck. 
his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.
let me.
you do.
his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.
the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence. 
“well?” you whisper.
“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips. 
he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.
the earth slants under his feet.
“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”
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seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade. 
“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”
do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”
“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”
“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”
upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.
“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”
but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.
“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.
“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”
“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”
“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.
puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.
one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.
you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—
“I KNEW IT!”
you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)
“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”
you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.
now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.
“HOW MANY TIMES?”
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jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.
“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)
“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.
after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”
“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.
“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”
“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”
“mmm, this one will.”
“doubtful.”
fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)
“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”
you wait. “is that it?”
“yes!”
why was the delivery so grand?
jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”
you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.
yoon counts you off. “ready…”
“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.
“shut up, pipsqueak.”
“set…GO!”
in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.
desperate times call for desperate measures.
you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”
both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.
the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)
but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.
jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.
he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—
you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)
yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)
—dissipates, immediately.
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© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!
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baby-yongbok · 2 months
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Boyfriend SKZ!Fake Texts - They have a wet dream about you
Genre: Smut, fairly detailed. Like, its dirty
Warnings: mentions of unprotected sex (wear a rubber, yall), breeding (? - if you squint and only for Jeongin's), Jeongin is a tad bit possessive, It gets more dirty the further you get.
✧ Masterlist ✧
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Chan
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Lee Know/Minho
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Changbin
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Hyunjin
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Han
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Felix
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Seungmin
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I.N
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clueless-writer · 1 month
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another new week! I get next week offfff! college has been tiring me out so much. after this I'll be so close to graduating.
before i start alllll over again. -.-
Anyway, all stories have updates this week! Unprecedented Times will have two before the big finale this weekend! be on the lookout for that.
have a great week!!
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chanrmer · 3 years
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( .36 )
“We should talk,”
“Isn't that what we're already doing —talking and eating.”
Minsung From When The Morning Comes by bitsori on [Archive of Our Own]
(i also post this on my other account :3c)
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