#lee know x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miniversse · 2 days

Text

⭑ “topline” ⭑

⭑ hyunchan x female reader

⭑ content includes: non-idol hyunchan, non-idol reader, mafia setting, established relationship, unprotected sex, releasing, oral (m reciving), use of pet names (princess, channie, hyunie), mentions of killing (no graphic descriptions), mentions of drinking

⭑ note: red lights duo who’s shocked? with topline reference? i couldn’t think of a better title tbh but i hope you enjoy it!

⭑ minors dni

⭑——————————————————⭑

it was quiet and the only sound to be heard was the exchange of kisses between you and chan. everyone had went home and the lights were off, only the traffic and street signs illuminating his massive office that smelt of rich whiskey and love.

“am i interrupting something?” hyunjins voice pierced the moment and both your hearts dropped before turning to see his face, sighing in relief. he walks to your body which cradled chans lap, placing his hand below your chin and caressing it.

“he’s coming in a few to see us” hyunjins raspy voice spoke and chan looked back at you, nodding his head in response. you struggled to not stare at the muscles peeking through his black and hardly buttoned shirt while he spoke.

“tell him to not bring anyone or he’s dead on the spot” chans voice and thick accent was enough to grow the wet spot between your legs, but you felt it wouldn’t be the right time to address it now. you turn to face hyunjin and you let your back rest on chans chest, grabbing hyunjin by his coat and taking him in for a kiss.

his lips took you in whole, tongues curling inside one another’s mouths. shameless whimpers escape as chan brings his fingers between your thighs, delicately massaging your hot skin. his lips come to your ear and he brushes your shell before whispering.

“ye don’t let that bastard touch you, ok?”

“he loves pretty young girls like you but he’s a fucking old rag” hyunjin echoes chans thoughts to you, tracing his lips down to your collarbone and marking you as his territory. all you could do was nod and try not to squirm between the tension of both of them.

“it hurts” waves of pleasure crashed and died down inside of you, and you need any- or both- of them to bring you to your orgasm.

“what hurts baby?”

“where you’re touching me channie. more, please”

he pushes hyunjin by the chest and brings you to bend over his desk with no notice, riding your dress up to admire your wet underwear. his fingers play with your hair while hyunjin pours a glass of whiskey and sits across to have a perfect view of your face.

“leave some for me” he laughs and gazes into your eyes, storing every facial expression of yours into his mind.

chan teases your entrance, his tip warming your exposed pussy. he clenches tight on your waist and pushes slowly and deeply inside of you, mouth gaping open at the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him. the air was filled with your whimpers as he picked up his pace, fingers moving under your dress and grabbing at your nipples. hyunjins eyes gazed at you from above his glass, his dick hardening at the sight of chan fucking you crazy.

“channie, channie more” his speed was unmatched to anything you’ve felt before and the sound of your skin clashing with his filled the air. his dick reached spots that made your back arch into him and your eyes fill with tears of pleasure.

“c’mere princess” hyunjin reached over the desk to grab your face, planting harsh and hungry kisses that accompanied chans thrusts. your thoughts were fuzzy and your moans were raspy, turning into desperate and loud whimpers. chan brought his chest down, grabbing your face from hyunjin to place groanful kisses into. his dick jerked inside of you, and you knew he was near.

his cum coats your throbbing walls and your orgasm crashes down on you, your head falling on the desk and broken moans falling silent. you’re brought back to your senses with hyunjins warm touch, his nails slightly scratching your back.

“we have some more time princess, it’s my turn” chan pulls out of you and the mixture of your releases drips down your thighs and onto the floor. he didn’t dress himself again but rather moved you to sit on the desk, his red and shiny dick facing you, pulsating with neediness for more.

“you can’t get enough can’t you?” he nods to hyunjins observation, too busy admiring the way hyunjin rubbed your inner thighs and brought his fingers to his tongue, licking clean the mixture of you and chans release.

“can you handle more princess?”

“yes” you’re voice was quiet and raspy, still healing from the pleasureful moans. you hear him unzip his trousers and his belt clashing on the wooden floor. you turn to him, teasing his hard member through his underwear and stroking it. your fingers hook the hem of his underwear and you bring them down, his long and eager dick waiting for you. his head falls back and he lets out a sigh as your fingers wrap him, moving back and forth until he grabs your wrist and turns you, slamming your chest down between chans thighs.

chan tuts at hyunjin, this time being the observer. “don’t hurt her” he spoke with a calm and smooth tone while he flicks through the stacks of cash he prepared, whispering his counts.

hyunjin moved faster than chan since it wouldn’t hurt you this time, quickly picking up his pace as he wrapped his arm around your stomach, letting his torso shield your marked back. hyunjin felt different inside of you, he was more hungry and harsh compared to chans intimate and fast thrusts. hyunjin was also less of a moaner and more of a speaker every chance he got.

“good girl, take daddy’s dick. it’s worth billions” his words were always near inaudible through his heavy pants. your pussy closed tighter on his long and filling dick, throbbing against it. your gaping mouth was soon filled with chans hard dick, sucking and trailing every protruding vein on his length. your mouth kept slamming further into him with every thrust from hyunjin, causing you to choke frequently. chans fingers ran through your hair, massaging your scalp and moving the hairs that stuck to your sweaty face.

“are you gonna come princess? i feel it” your body was giving in, you couldn’t move your mouth around chan anymore and your legs grew heavy and numb. chan stroked himself into your mouth until his fluids filled your mouth, peeking from the corners of your mouth.

“hyunjin, i can’t” tears stream down your face as you collapse onto chans legs, hyunjins cum filling you. you couldn’t feel if you reached your orgasm or not because of the overstimulation in your body, but you couldn’t feel any better now.

“let’s clean you up hm?” chan brings your body to the couch again, cleaning your face and legs with paper towels and bringing your dress back on your drained body. hyunjin sits beside you, taking you to his lap and drawing circles on your inner thigh, soothing the pain. a harsh knock at the door brings chan to his legs.

“what’s this man here for hyunie?” his fingers move to your hair, bringing it back to a tame style.

“he’s some bastard who promised to pay us months ago. you either see him walk out the door or in a pool of blood”

you gasp at his response, making eye contact with a rich looking man who’s surely in his 60s. hyunjin brings his mouth close to your ear, maintaining his gaze with the man.

“and it’s up to you princess”

⭑ TAG LIST

@captainchrisstan @all4minnie @katsukis1wife @rylea08 @strayywayy

248 notes · View notes

4ln-stay8 · 2 days

Text

BF! Stray kids texts - You get an anonymous love letter PART II

>summary: Stray kids reaction to you getting an anonymous love letter

>author’s note: someone said in the comments that they wanted to know who the secret admirer was so I tried to do a part two… I hope you like it….

>warning: fluff ig, mentions of Trendz members, mention of Yechan (ex-pink fantasy member)

HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE

#stray kids hyung line #stray kids smau #skz smau #stray kids fake texts #skz fake texts #bang chan fake texts #lee know fake texts #changbin fake texts #hyunjin fake texts #skz fic #stray kids fic #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader

149 notes · View notes

lix-ables · 1 day

Note

Hi~

Can you imagine (and write 🫣) getting off by yourself without telling Minho (ur personal pussy eater) and bring ur finger to his nose, and he immediately recognize the scent of his favourite meal and it makes him hard within milliseconds, so he HAS to eat you out in compensate for having fun without inviting him. He would teases you "Couldn't even wait for my mouth hmm?" And eat you till you become a shaking and crying mess.

WHEW.

Also this is my first time asking im a little super shoi but i love your blog sm and ITS NOT DYING love

MWAH💕

please this is the ABSOLUTE BEST @mnwrld (made me think of you wjdjej) I GOT TO THIS LATE IM SORRY AND AAAAA THANK YOU??? YOU'RE SO CUTE T-T ,,,, also @hanjsquokka @hanjibug AND @j-onedrabbles because there's a TEEEEENY bit of someone here im crying

bf!lino is so pussy drunk, that the thought of your teasing and touching yourself, when he's not around - frustrates him. a lot. (bet he has something in his mind - you can always make up to him)

bf!lino LOVES it when you're getting yourself off in front of him, he's on the floor in front of you, or next to you in bed, he's so close to you, but he won't touch - mostly because he knows how much you need him, even when you deny it. (especially when he's all like "how cute, seems like you don't need my help hm? maybe i should leave the room?"

bf!lino the type to actually buy you and him toys that he can use - for his pleasure, but mostly yours because he fucking loves the way your toes curl every time he puts something else inside you. example, a bullet vibe - he makes sure you have it with you at all times, but this time particularly because you're at your friend's house (jisung's to be more exact) and he likes the way you're squirming in your seat, your eyes pleading him to stop every time he increases the speed of the toy inside you. maybe jisung would notice, and maybe he'd smirk to himself, maybe he'd look at the way your eyes stare at minho when you're at the edge, and maybe he wants in on the fun - teasing you ofc, or maybe just wants to see you on your knees for him and lino , if lino allows it, who knows?

bf!lino the type to eat you out when he's stressed, often telling you to be good because all he wants to see is you on the edge for, well a really long time, and also because he knows you can do it. i mean, you're getting something out of it right?

going back to the jisung thought too, IF say lino allows it, i mean, it's gonna be jisung's hand guiding yours to his length, while lino ate you out, stopping in between making you fuss because you stopped working on jisung's dick. "focus, baby. you don't want either of this to stop do you?"

note. yes i got carried away SO WHAT

#💌 — mail #anonymousse #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know smut #han jisung smut

122 notes · View notes

moonlightndaydreams · 2 days

Text

The Country Club // MDNI

student (adult aged) Minho x older fem reader (age gap not specified). CW under the cut.

Part 1 // Part 2

��🎾🎾🎾

Minho has his sights on a woman he shouldn’t be looking at. Older, richer, out of his league. It’s alluring to him, wanting what he can’t have. Touching someone who doesn’t belong to him.

He’s seen you around the grounds of the country club where his dad works a number of times now, and he knows you’ve seen him too. Your eyes linger on him whenever he walks past you. Do you think about him in your bed at night? He wonders.

CW: unprotected p in v sex, in a public place, spanking, taunting, rough sex, reader gets grazes on her face, blood kink, Minho bites reader, creampie.

🎾🎾🎾🎾

He gets hard in his pants just thinking about you in your little one piece swimsuit he saw you in the other day, by the pool. He often finds himself masturbating to the image of slipping into the water while you’re sleeping on one of those floaties. He’d caress your leg, starting at your ankle and making his way up your inner thigh. You’d part your legs, pretending to be asleep, letting him have access to your warm cunt.

Or you’d slide off your floaty and tug him towards the side of the pool and pull his cock from his swimmer shorts, demanding he put it in you.

Would he ever get to feel you wrapped around his cock?

One afternoon he’s walking through the grounds and sees you standing by the hedge near the tennis courts, in your cute white tennis dress cursing at your phone.

“Someone shit you off?” Minho teases.

You look up angrily, like you are about to murder the person who dared speak to you. But your eyes turn curious when you realise who it is. The boy who pops a boner everytime he sees you.

“Your name’s Minho.” You say. It’s not a question.

“Yeah.” He says not breaking eye contact with you. He swallows hard. There’s no one around just you and him. Alone.

He sees you look down at his crotch. Amusement crosses your features when you notice the bulge in his white slacks.

“Follow me.” You command.

🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾

You’ve got him around the other side of the hedge, with your chest pressed into a brick wall and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. You’re both panting, desperate for release. Skin is slapping loudly. He’s pounding into you hard. Your teeny tiny lace panties torn and shoved into his pocket, a keepsake for when he’s alone later.

He grips your hips harder, digging into your flesh. You’ll have marks, and he wonders what your older husband will make of them, when he sees you naked. If he sees you naked.

“Fuck, your pussy’s so tight, doesn’t your husband take care of you? All closed up like a virgin?” He growls low in your ear. “Do you like having a younger guy, a boy, fuck you good like this, huh?” He thrust into you extra hard. “Fill you up over. And over.” He pushes himself all the way into you and then presses a little more. So deep.

You grind back against him showing him how fucking good he’s making you feel. “I don’t know, boy. I think you’re holding back. I think,” you pant, “you can fuck me better than this.”

Minho growls and tugs your head back by your hair. “Oh, you want me to really tear up your pussy, huh?”

He slides you down the wall so your ass pokes out further, and your back is curved just beautifully. “Just warning you. This might hurt, Noona.” He drapes your skirt over your back and slaps your ass cheek hard making you squeal. Again, his hand comes down. You didn’t know he could grip your hips any tighter than he is now, but he is. And then he truly slams into you.

The new angle has your eyes watering, crying even, and your hands flail around trying to find purchase on the wall in front of you. With every brutal thrust, you keep slipping, and your cheek scrapes against the rough bricks.

Minho feels like he’s lost control. He knows he is being rough. He knows it’s probably hurting you. But the sounds you’re making. They’re so guttural, raw, animalistic. He’s never heard a girl let go like this. They’d always been shy about sex noises. But here you are, out in the open and not giving a shit who might hear. It’s like you’re a wild woman who can’t be tamed. And fuck does he want to tame you.

He digs his teeth into his lip as he watches his cock emerge from your warmth, glistening in your arousal, and groans as he pushes it back inside. Over and over. Harder and harder.

His brow is sweaty, and you are struggling to keep your footing. But he’s so close to cumming that nothing is going to stop him. Minho grips a fistful of your hair and pulls you up so your back is against his chest and pushes you back into the wall again. “You gonna cum for me, Noona. Cum all over my cock?” He snakes a hand around to rub your swollen clit, making you tighten your grip on his cock.

Then he has the urge to do something he’s never done before. He attaches his teeth to your shoulder and bites down hard, drawing blood. A metallic taste fills his mouth. A scream escapes you, and you frantically fuck yourself back onto his cock and cumming hard.

Minho can’t hold on any longer, and cries out as he cums deep inside your pussy, grunting and growling as he fills you up.

You look an absolute mess when you stand up and smooth your dress down.

“Fuck.” Minho whistles under his breath. Your white dress is stained, your face has a graze on one cheek, and there’s a small trickle of blood on your shoulder where he’d bitten you. He knows you’re going to have bruised hips and cum leaking down your leg.

He really has fucked you up, and the satisfied grin on your face says you loved every second of it.

🎾🎾🎾🎾🎾

A/n: I’m thinking of making this a little series of these two and their little meetings. Let me know if you want more.

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itshannjisung @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @sunshinesquokka @enjaken @queenmea604 @lyramundana @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow

#lee know smut #skz smut #lee know x reader #lee minho smut #lee know oneshot #lee know drabbles #lee minho hard thoughts #sorshas fic

109 notes · View notes

jinisnuggets · 1 day

Text

ꜱᴛʀᴀʏ ᴋɪᴅꜱ (ᴏᴛ3) ꜰɪɴᴅꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜱ/ᴏ ɪꜱ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ

ᴾᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ˡᵉᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ, ʰᵃⁿ, ˢᵉᵘⁿᵍᵐⁱⁿ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ᴳᵉⁿʳᵉ: ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ, ᵃⁿᵍˢᵗʸ, ᴴᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒⁿˢ, ˢᵐᵃᵘ

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳⁱᵉˢ, ˢʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ, ʰᵃʳᵐ,

ˢʸⁿᵒᵖˢⁱˢ: ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵃ ˢᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ⁱᵗ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒʸᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ

ᴬ/ⁿ: ᵗʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵉqᵘᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵᵗ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵐʸ ᵈʳᵃᶠᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵒ ᴵ ˢᵉⁿᵗ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒʳⁱᵍⁱⁿᵃˡ ᵃˢᵏᵉʳ ᴵ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ 😭 , ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃˡʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁿ.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨

When he got a call from the local hospital, he was quick to assume they had the wrong number, however he still picked up in order to inform them of the mistake, and when he heard a voice on the other end start to speak, he waited for them to finish the contact information before talking.

“Hello, I wanted to inform you that you possibly have the wrong number, I don't have any health issues and neither do any of my close relatives, so I believe this is a mistake, but thank you for your hard work, it is very appreciated.”

The other end stayed silent for a moment before verifying, “This is Lee Minho, is that correct?” Minho stayed quiet for a moment before speaking, “Yes, that's me- what happened?”

After the clarification, the doctor introduced themselves and explained the situation that had him very much on edge, and hearing what actually happened didn't make it any better.

“Wait- Y/n got into a car accident..?”

“Unfortunately, but luckily it wasn't a very serious crash so they came out with few injuries, although they aren't minor, they aren't major either so they should recover in a couple of weeks to possibly months.”

By that point, Minho had been pacing around the same spot for a decent amount of time, sweat running down his forehead as he bit his thumb nail, reacting quickly and reaching out for his car keys and wallet.

“I'm on my way, please keep them safe until I get there.”

The person on the other end nodded, but for confirmation muttered a small ‘of course’ in order to assure him that you were in good hands.

He didn't have time to ask about the injuries you had, the only thing he wanted to do by that point was see you and that was really it, he didn't think to ask nor did he really care to ask at the moment of it, the question hadn't come to his head until he started driving and had already hung up, in which he found himself banging his head against the steering wheel in complete disappointment to himself, quickly speeding up the pace in order to get to his loved one faster.

𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

Jisung had been eating lunch in his car, he was lazy so he just stopped by some fast food restaurant and ordered a meal to go, so that's how he ended up in his car in a random parking lot, looking at all the passing cars as he ate the burrito he had ordered.

He had seen a couple of ambulances drive by but he hadn't thought much of them, it was normal to see an ambulance drive off during regular times of day so there wasn't anything suspicious about it.

He stayed in his car for a while and finished up his burrito, jamming to the music that played from his playlist. Right as he was picking up his trash he noticed his phone ringing, it was off as he wasn't the type to get calls often, so he looked at the contact and recognized the number as the local hospital's, it also had it on the contact name, he automatically assumed that maybe his parents needed to under-go some type of surgery and picked up.

“Hello, are we talking to Han Jisung at the moment?” The voice on the other line said, Jisung was scared so the only thing that came out of his mouth was a simple ‘mhm.’

“Perfect, I'm a doctor at the local Seoul Department Hospital, I have a few things to tell you about L/n Y/n.”

“Y/n!? Why are they at the hospital!?” He couldn't help but raise his voice a little, not because he was mad but because he was terrified. What was his beloved doing in a place like the hospital? From what he last knew you didn't have any mental conditions, which meant one of two things, you got injured or you just went for a check up and found some sort if emergency cause making you need surgery, which made him immediately reject the other option.

“Yes, L/n has twisted their ankle in what we can only assume was a fall, we don't have the full story yet as they've been undergoing treatment for the damaged bone.”

“That happened!?” Jisung was in disbelief, turning on his car and driving off in the way of the hospital.

“I'm on my way, please take care of Y/n for me.”

𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧

He was cooking whenever he noticed a number calling him, being the man he is, he obviously declined the call.

He hadn't seen the number and assumed it was a spam caller, so he chose to ignore it and decline the call. It wasn't until the number called a second time that he realized this wasn't a spam caller, so he picked up and got off to hang up if anything felt off or suspicious.

“Hello, are we speaking with Kim Seungmin?” A female voice asked from the other end, Seungmin felt uneasy and took a look at the contact information, seeing that it had the name of “Local Hospital”

Seungmin’s initial and continued thought was, of course, ‘scammer’ but he let the call proceed. “Yes, this is Kim Seungmin.” he responded.

“Okay, if it's okay for me to take a few minutes of your time, I would like to talk to you about some comments regarding L/n Y/n.”

Now Seungmin's mind went to ‘blackmailer’ and he was about to hang up the call when the same female voice continued.

“So, L/n has sprained their ankle while playing a sport, and it's not serious but it will take quite a bit to recover, so we wanted to know your relationship with the patient because they've got you listed as an emergency contact.”

Seungmin stayed silent, not because he was suspicious of any activity, but because he was genuinely concerned and trying to come up with the best thing to do in this scenario.

“I'm her boyfriend, could I have a few more details on their injuries?” Seungmin questioned, leaning over to pick up his shoes and slide them on, packing a bit of the pasta that he had been preparing and picking up his car keys.

“As mentioned, they sprained their ankle while they were playing some sort of sport, the theory is that they had landed badly on their leg and the pressure caused a bone malfunction causing the result of a sprain.”

“Okay, thank you very much, I'll be on my way.”

Seungmin thanked the doctor and despite his quiet and calm demineer, he was literally screaming and panicking on the inside.

77 notes · View notes

littlemisshyperfixation · 14 hours

Text

Stray Kids Fic Recommendations

I think it's clear from the amount of fics I have saved for certain members who my bias is ... anyway I'll make a part 2 when I have more fics to recommend!

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

₊˚⊹♡ OT8

₊˚⊹♡ Bangchan

₊˚⊹♡ Lee Know

₊˚⊹♡ Changbin

₊˚⊹♡ Hyunjin

₊˚⊹♡ Han

₊˚⊹♡ Felix

₊˚⊹♡ Seungmin

₊˚⊹♡ Jeongin

37 notes · View notes

lixxpix · 3 hours

Text

we can't be friends - l.mh

genre: idol!minho x reader, lovers to exes to lovers

tw: angst, hurt, breaking up, erasing of memories (almost) , mutual pining, did i mention angst, reader is kinda depressed, like two kisses ig

status: delivered !

word count: 4.0k

author's note: aaaa omd it's finally done >< reblogs + likes are appreciated!!

lee minho. your muse, your life, your heart.

he broke your heart one stormy sunday night and you hated him as you watched him leave with tears in both of your eyes.

granted, he did break your heart for your own good, to save you from the dangers of being with him. but you didn't care, not when he was your universe, your world. you would gladly take a bullet for him.

just as he would take a bullet for you.

minho knew leaving would break you, just as much as it would break him, but he needed to do it. life as an idol was already dangerous enough with all the death threats and saesangs, but the moment 'fans' caught even the slightest whiff of you they would hunt you down and hurt you, and minho simply couldn't let that happen. he knew you wouldn't care about all the danger as long as you were with him, but he did. minho would never forgive himself if something happened to you all because he had given in to his innermost wants and kept you by his side.

so he left.

november 8th, 2019, 8.46 pm.

"i want to break up." he said, one sunday night. the rain was pouring outside, flashes of thunder and lightning ringing through the sky occasionally. in the quiet and comfort of your shared apartment, with the dim glow of lamps illuminating your features, in that moment, for a split second, minho wanted to stay. he wanted to pretend everything was alright, to have you stay by his side and be happy together, but he knew he shouldn't. the two of you were eating dinner, sitting at the small round dining table in your kitchen tucking into your homemade kimchi stew. god, he would miss your kimchi stew, he thought miserably.

"what?" your world felt like it had stopped, your hand frozen in place as you slowly tilted your head to look at your boyfriend sitting across from you.

"i... want to break up." he repeated robotically.

"minho, where is this coming from? did i do something wrong? please... just talk to me," you begged, panic starting to flood your mind as tears threatened to spill over. you couldn't believe what he had just said. the both of you had been perfectly fine before, the both of you were happy, why was he doing this? were you not good enough for him? did he fall in love with someone else? the thought alone made you weak.

"i just... it's for the best. i'm putting you in danger every day, fans will hurt you if they find out i'm with you. i can't let that happen."

"i don't care if they try to hurt me, minho. as long as i'm with you, it’s- " you reached for his hand, and could feel your heart finally sinking to the bottom as you saw his face, screwed into an expression of hurt and resignation as he shook his head.

"just... don't forget me in the future, okay?" before you could say anything, minho was already out of his seat, grabbing his coat and his phone, already reaching for the front door.

"wait! minho-" you jumped out of your seat in alarm and desperation, clinging to his arm as he looked back at you with a pained expression.

"please- we can work this out, just don't leave me," you pleaded, tears already cascading down your face. you must've looked a pathetic mess in that moment, sniffling and sobbing, yet minho still thought you were the most beautiful person to ever exist as he memorised your face for one last time.

finally, minho turned around, cupping your face in his hands. your hands reached up to hold his, as he memorised your every detail for the last time. minho's lips found their way to your forehead, then the corner of your eyes, then your lips as he kissed you tenderly for the last time as you sobbed in his arms.

"i'm sorry." he whispered, before pushing you back as you cried out and stumbled backwards, opening the door, walking out of the apartment and out of your life.

december 25th, 2019, 11.28 pm.

your diary.

i still think of you, you know. i still see your face in the windows of that cafe shop we used to go to whenever i pass by. i know you're not in there, and i'm hallucinating. i can't go in there anymore, not without thinking of you. i can't even watch the television anymore without having to see your face. listened to your new comeback. that song was about me, wasn't it?

it's christmas now. i adopted some presents for you. you would love them, the three cats. i named them soongie, doongie, and dori. quite fitting, they're playful like you. they'll never meet their father. i still wore your hoodie, the green one i always wore every christmas. you used to wear my red hoodie, but i guess you won't be here to wear it anymore. it still smells like you.

i still wonder why you left. was such a pathetic excuse as me potentially being hurt the only reason why you would leave me? you knew i didn't care if i was hurt, so long as i was with you. you still left. i hate you for that, but deep down i could never hate you. i still love you.

january 7th, 2020, 2.35 pm.

you strolled down the busy streets of seoul, a long oversized fluffy coat resting on your shoulders and your nose pink from the cold. a sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally stepped foot into the cozy ambience of a random cafe alongside the road, the warm air blowing gently at you helping to relieve the coldness settling into your bones. ordering a latte and a small cake which were promptly delivered to your table, you settled down to scroll through the news.

new technology developed, scientists say new machinery can effectively target and erase memories of specific people and objects. is now being offered at multiple mental health clinics nationwide at a low cost, guaranteed 90% success rate. for sign-ups and further information, please contact...

you raised your eyebrows at the news, marvelling slightly at how advanced technology seemed to be developing at this rate. thinking nothing of it, you simply continued scrolling.

january 7th, 2020, 12.02 pm.

you sighed as you flopped onto your bed, tired from a day of work and countless emails sent. feeling a warm, soft head poke it's way under your arm, you smiled softly, hand reaching out to scratch doongie's head as he meowed in content. smiling softly, you felt two large lumps jumo onto your bed and settle on you, soongie choosing to settle on your feet and dori choosing to burrow his way under you arm as you giggled.

"soongie, you're so heavy," you laughing light-heartedly as your oldest cat let out a 'meow' of indignation at your words.

minho would love the cats so much...

your smile drooped, feeling that warm familiar sensation pricking at your eyes again.

god, how stupid. it had been two months already and you were still hung up on him. everywhere you went, you saw his face, on advertisments at the bus stop, billboards in the shopping districts, to even advertisments on youtube, and every single time your old memories with minho would surface and you would miss him again.

memories...

oh. the news of the memory erasure experiment.

would it hurt to try? you tried imagining forgetting minho. for him to just be another face on the billboard, a random k-pop idol to you. to forget you had ever even loved him and forget that he ever loved you. the pain would be gone. your heart would no longer ache each day, you would no longer think of him and he would no longer cloud your mind.

picking up your phone, your finger hovered above the 'call' button.

"hello? this is the seoul medical psychiatry clinic speaking. how may i help you?"

"i..." you paused, gnawing at your bottom lip.

"i would like to make an appointment."

january 19th, 2020, 1.28 pm.

"welcome! do you have a booked appointment?" the receptionist greeted cheerfully as you stepped into the reception and seating area of the clinic, a large box full of items in your hands. the hallways were filled with posters and quotes, the beanbags and seats painted in warm and soothing colours.

"yes, doctor kim at 1.35pm." you answered, watching as the receptionist typed a few words into her computer.

"ah yes, under the name yoon y/n, right?" she clicked her tongue, "for... memory erasure?" she glanced at you with a look full of sympathy, as if you were some lost wounded puppy.

"yes." you confirmed, lips pursing together slightly as you stared down at the box.

"good, and you've got your box of items already. do double check to make sure they are linked to that specific person only, we wouldn't want any erasure of other memories woth different people."

you swallowed the lump in your throat.

"yeah, i have."

"great, we'll be calling for you later, the doctor will run you through the procedure and then the operation will commence. take a seat first," she gestured to the seating area. not long after, you heard your name.

"yoon y/n?"

you hurriedly stood up, making your way towards the nurse and following her into the operation room. the operation room was white and cold, lacking any warmth and colour, filled with odd looking machinery and lab coats and tools. you were sat down on a chair, and your box of items given to the nurse who began taking them out one by one while another nurse attached a few wires to your skin to a machine on the right which measured your heart rate, a steady thump-thump-thump. the first nurse began to place your items in a row, scanning each one under a machine.

beep.

minho's green hoodie.

beep.

the snow globe the both of you had bought together at a winter festival.

beep.

polariods of you and him.

beep.

a cat plushie you had gifted him in celebration of his lastest comeback before he had left.

beep.

matching mugs the two of you had bought.

minho. everything, everywhere, everyone reminded you of minho. it felt like you were drowning, consumed by him.

"alright, i'll be placing the device on your head. the device will take you through individual memories of the person, but you will have to re-experience certain bigger core memories again as those take a longer time to process. if at any point should you feel distressed or want to stop, please press the red button beside you, and should you want to restore your memories we will reload them back into your brain. however, if you choose not to restore the memories, we will automatically delete them after 30 days." the doctor explained, showing you a strange contraption with two pulse points connecting to either side of your temple.

beside you, the heart rate measured by the machine started beeping faster.

you nodded.

the cold, tingly terminals of the device connected with either side of your temples, the unfamiliar feeling odd and alienating.

then all turned black.

"min! look, they have matching mugs! we should get them," you pointed excitedly to two mugs at a stall in a summer fair you and minho had just happened to pass by. you watched as your old self pointed to the mugs happily, "the world's best boyfriend" and "the world's best girlfriend" written on each mug respectively. "that's so cheesy," minho said, a grin on his face as he pulled you close to him by your waist. well, the old minho in your memories. it felt like a punch in the gut yet the cure to your pain as you stared at his face again in your re-lived memory, his oh-so-familar grin plastered on his stupidly handsome face. "yeah, but it's cute!" you exclaimed, turning to face minho. "pleaseeee," you begged, lips downturned in a pout and your eyes shining hopefully as you tugged on his arm. "fine," minho groans, eventually giving in into your request, feigning annoyace by rolling his eyes yet still smiling at your delighted expression.

god, you missed him so much.

the memory shifted, warping into another blurry picture.

this time, it was another memory that faded in, a memory of you and him sitting in the living room unwrapping your christmas presents. minho tore open his box eagerly, laughing as he held up a green hoodie from his favorite brand gifted to him by you, coupled with some other things like perfume and a brand new wallet. "oops... might've gifted you an accidental matching hoodie by accident," he smiled sheepishly, as you opened your present, some jewelry with . "a red hoodie! now we can match," you snickered, pulling the soft hoodie over your head and slipping it on. "hey, we look like the christmas colours!" you laughed, pouncing on him and tackling him down to make him wear his one as he whined in protest. eventually you did managed to get him to put it on and pose for some pictures, albeit him being disgruntled but still giving in to you anyways.

a tear trickled down your face, landing on your lap as your hands on the chair tightened, gripping the armrests so hard your knuckles started turning white.

the memory started to fade away.

"min! the new comeback was so good, i watched the music video just now," you exclaimed, bounding up to him the moment he opened the front door to your shared apartment. "thanks baby," he smiled, leaning in for a quick peck but suddenly finding a soft plushie being thrust into his hands. it was a plush of a brown and white striped cat, soft to the touch and extremely squishable. "what's this for?" he raised eyebrow, cocking his head in confusion as he stared at you. "it's to celebrate your comeback, I figured i'd give you something to cuddle when i'm not around you," you smiled, "i named the cat mr sprinkles." "who names a plush toy mr sprinkles?" minho laughs, watching as you huff at him about how the name was cute and he was being mean. "thank you though, i appreciate it," he kissed you softly, smiling at the small act of love.

no, stop-

you started to whimper and thrash around.

fade to black again.

"min, look," minho turned to you as you were admiring the ornaments at a booth, the both of you coming across a christmas market and deciding to explore it. "it's a snow globe of us," you pointed out to a small snow globe, with a man and women as figurines in the center of the snow globe and fake snow swirling in the water around them. "it does look like us, doesn't it?" he hummed, pressing a soft kiss into your hair as you subconsciously leaned into him. "we should get it," he suggested, smiling at how your eyes lit up and how you pressed a kiss to his cheek. the two of you purchased the item, and then bought some hot chocolate to sip on to relieve the cold setting into your bones. "jagi-ah," minho called, prompting you to look up at him before gasping in surprise. the first snow of the season. "you know, they say the person you witness the first snow with will be with you for a long, long time." minho grinned, leaning down to kiss you tenderly before intertwining your hands.

you didn't want to forget him, you realized, as you gasped for air, heartbeat skyrocketing as you tried to open your mouth to scream. no, you would never want to forget minho. you would rather cling onto those memories and deal with the pain forever than never having remembered him.

the memory faded.

you gasped in surprise as you ripped open the box, holding up a brand-new, shiny polariod camera wrapped in a gift box, its paper shreds used to cushion the camera hapazardly strewn about the floor. minho watched you with a small smile on his face, eyes sparkling as he happily obliged to any pose you wanted to do with him, groaning half-heartedly but still laughing at the silly faces you made.

the memory started to fade again.

"STOP!" your finger found the red button, desperately pressing it in an attempt to get the machine to start working. all of a sudden, you were jolted back into your consciousness in the middle of the white sterile room again, heaving and gasping for air as you tried to adjust back to the surroundings.

"are you okay? do you need to stop the operation?" the nurse asked, a concerned look on her face. beside you, the machine was beeping, a erratic rhythm.

beep. beep. beep. beep.

your hand reached up to fiddle with your necklace, looking left and right. you swallowed, a lump in your throat.

"yes."

----------

you stumbled out the clinic, hands clutching onto the box of items tightly as your eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun.

hands shaking, you pulled out your phone.

'my love,' the contact at the top of the screen read. you hadn't called him in months, ever since he had broken up with you. you has tried for a few weeks, but day after day of missed calls was heartbreaking.

you pressed the button.

one ring.

two rings.

three rings.

four rings...

"hello?"

a voice you hadn't heard for months. a voice you had only been hearing in your dreams.

"minho-" a strangled sob left your lips.

"please." you could only force out a choked plea, tears falling rapidly, stumbling onto a nearby bench. people started at you as they walked by, a woman breaking down in a random street in seoul oddly disconcerting.

"where are you? i'll come get you." the moment you heard the concern laced in his voice, your eyes brimmed with more unshed tears, stifling a sob that threatened to escape. in the background, you could hear the sound of things being knocked over, presumably minho rushing to get to you.

you told him your location in between shaky breaths, occasional hiccups interrupting your sentence.

"just wait for me, ok? don't move anywhere," minho firmly instructed, voice soft and calming.

a few minutes passed, and he was nowhere to be found.

he would hate you for this, you realized. you didn't deserve him. he tried so hard to keep you safe, and how did you repay him? by almost erasing all memories of him. the thought of it just broke your heart even more, for if he knew what you had tried to do he would never want to have anything to do with you again.

"y/n!" you heard a voice yell, whipping around only to see minho running to you at full speed. you had never been more glad to see him, your knees instantly buckling as you collapsed into his arms, crying into the crook of his neck as you clutched onto him like a lifeline.

you didn't think you would ever get used to this feeling, you thought. his touch, warmth, his gentle strokes of your hair and whispered sweet nothings were like music to your ears, his hand coming up to rest on your back and his other coming up to gently stroke your hair as he swayed you back and forth. he had clearly just ran from dance practice, you realized, slightly sweaty and panting ever so slightly.

"what's wrong, jagi?" he murmured, soft brown eyes searching your own red and teary ones.

"i- i didn't want to remember you because it was too painful, and then i tried to erase my memories of you, but i realized i didn't want to and i really, really, really fucking miss you and it hurts-" your rambling was cut off by a hiccup, lips quivering as you stared back into his eyes.

here comes the part where he realizes your a disgusting bitch and hates you forever, you thought miserably.

"shh, it's ok," minho pulled you closer, engulfing you in his warmth as his hand rose up to cup your cheek.

what?

he was supposed to hate you, not do... this. you literally tried to erase all memories of him, he should be angry and offended, so why...?

nonetheless, you would take what you could get in what you assumed to be your last moments with him, so instead you leaned into his touch, memorising his every detail again. his soft brown eyes framed with delicate lashes, sharp nose and jawline, the pink rosy tint to his cheeks as the winter wind whipped around you.

"i'm sorry," you begged, "just don't hate me."

"i never did, silly." minho laughed softly, a wistful smile gracing his lips.

"but you left me." you said, confused.

"i left you because i loved you. it was just for your own safety, i didn't care about anything else," minho explained, brows furrowing slightly.

oh.

minho stumbled backwards as you crashed into him with a force, nearly knocking him over as you crashed your lips onto his, hands threading through his soft silky hair and teeth knocking against his. it was a heated, messy kiss, teeth clashing and tears streaming down your face, yet minho didn't seem to mind as he deepened the kiss with a fervour, all seeming to pour out of him, pain and regret, relief and want. it is only when you seperate with a gasping breath of air that you finally see his swollen, reddened lips.

“i’ll figure something out, i’ll talk to the company, make a statement or something- i won’t let anyone get to you, i promise,” he rambled, a giddy smile on his face. right now, minho could care less about the repercussions, even if he had to move mountains just to be by your side and keep you safe at the same time.

you giggled, an infectious laugh bubbling out of you. the both of you, crying in the middle of a street, hands intertwined and both a mess, yet you had never been happier with the person you truly loved.

“we'll be alright now.” you whispered. it wasn’t just a statement but a promise, one to keep forever.

december 25th, 2020, 1.43 pm.

“min! come look!” you squealed in delight, eyes lighting up when you were finally done. minho glanced over, and sure enough, you were up to mischief again, the three cats dressed in ugly christmas sweaters with cartoonish designs on them and matching hats on their heads. doongie let out a ‘meow’ of indignation, protesting as minho roared with laughter to scoop him and his fellow cats up. laughter bubbling out of your lips, you quickly grabbed your phone to take a picture of minho and the three cats, his face lighting up in amusement as he watched them try to squirm out of his grasp.

“i love you, you know that?” minho says that night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch with the cats, watching your favourite seasonal christmas movies together and snacking on popcorn.

“i don’t say it enough, partly because i’m not good at expressing myself, but i love you. your smile and personality and everything. just thought you should know.” the tips of his ears are red as he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

you smile, a red tint blossoming across your cheeks as you lean in to kiss him softly.

“i love you too min.”

how did you ever get so lucky? you think, leaning in to rest your head on minho’s shoulder as you resumed watching the movie, one hand absentmindedly scratching dori’s head as he purrs in contentment. here, in the dim light of the cozy apartment with minho, love heavy in the air around you two and christmas lights twinkling merrily, you think you have everything you have ever wanted in life.

after all, it didn't really matter where you were, as long as minho was by your side.

taglist: @starseungs @missmajdastark @jazziwritesthings @layviyu @lailac13 @ana-marais98 @foxinthewild @dandelions-143 @rylea08 @linocz @minseongsworld @realrintaro @kkamismon12 @felinows @baribaaari

35 notes · View notes

milkandhyuney · 8 hours

Text

i miss you, i'm sorry; lmh

in which alcohol and a broken heart prompts you to make a phone call to your ex.

~ Angst with a capital A.

wc: 1.6K

Reference(s): “I miss you, I’m sorry” written by Grace Abrahams and a line from Notting Hill directed by Roger Michell

“I miss you”

The flashing lights seemed to somehow mute the chaotic noise around you. Head hurting, mind overwhelmed, and still, your fingers unconsciously danced across the screen of your phone, typing a number you had deleted months ago.

Some things don’t stay the way they're supposed to. Out of sight, out of mind right? Funny how all logic and rational thinking is suddenly muddled by the denial of a broken heart.

“y/n.”

If it weren’t for the alcohol in your system, you’d cry at the sound of his voice. Instead, the concern in his tone forced a bittersweet smile to form on your face.

He shouldn’t be worried, he shouldn’t have even answered. But he did. And you hated that you knew he would. Because even in your drunken state, it was so natural for you to go back to him.

“You promised.”

You felt pathetic. Clinging onto his promises of forever, even when you fought his declarations towards the end of your relationship. The need to be right overpowering the need to be loved.

It was careless, taking everything you loved and disputing it with cruel words driven by a fixed mindset. And he did the same. Hurt people hurt people, because no one wants to be hurting alone.

You did your best to move on. You really did. It was easy at first, fueled by anger and pinpointing all the blame of your failing relationship on him was something you did with your head held high.

And then all of a sudden, your pride became too hard to swallow and all the hate you spewed ricocheted in the forms of longing and regret.

You often found yourself reminiscing about fights in his apartment and the disappointment that came with broken dishes, just to get a glimpse of him.

Because he was always readily available in your mind, whether it be in the form of heartbreak or not. And the extent to which you would willingly fall back into these moments only resulted in any progress of moving on to slip through your fingers.

Whatever that even was. Moving on seemed pointless, almost useless. There seemed to be no benefit in the act and the purpose of it all drowned in your doubts and hesitations.

“y/n, where are you?”

How do you move on from someone who is so deeply engraved into your mind, someone who has touched every part of you with sweet kisses and gentle hands, someone who starts your thoughts and always ends them.

For these reasons, your doubts and hesitations were not baseless. Because how do you move on from someone you once promised forever to? It almost seems wrong to do so.

“I don’t know what to do Minho. Everywhere I go leads me back to you. Everything I know brings me back to us.”

There was so much to say, so much you wanted to tell him. It was desperate and embarrassing, but others might say you were simply in love; that you were just a girl, talking to a boy, asking him to love her.

“Y/n, please….go home.”

“I can’t.”

“Y/n–”

“Every corner of that fucking house is haunted Minho.”

It was suffocating. Home was no longer home but a place filled with traces of his presence. Bittersweet reminders of the life that once flourished remained in every room.

His coffee cup in the cupboard, his hoodie tucked away in your drawer, the silly love notes he left embedded into your books, his morning kisses, his laughter, his smile, him.

He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Even in his absence, he was consuming you. So no, you wouldn’t go home, you couldn’t. Because the definition between home and Minho seemed to blur overtime.

“I don’t know what to do anymore."

The drunken daze was now fading away, your clouded mind becoming overwhelmed with the sober emotions that flowed through your body, because they were one in the same when you were drunk, just easier to handle in a state of intoxication.

“I thought you hated me.”

Such a statement was not meant to be laced with the gentleness he evoked, so much so, a certain heaviness clung to your chest. For the reminder of the three words you spewed at him the last time you spoke will forever bring feelings of angst and regret.

“Minho…”

Some things are better left unsaid. Until the time comes when those things are all you can think about, clouding your judgement and cultivating a narrative of missed opportunities guided by the words “what if”.

You had many. And they creeped up on you, leaving you lost in your thoughts of love that you’ll never be able to live, at least, not with him.

But not was not the time to wallow in your self pity and despair. Not after all the time you had dedicated to pondering over the “what ifs” and certainly not when the person these “what ifs” revolved around was here, listening to you.

“I was angry and upset and desperate to hurt you. I don’t hate you—I never could. I’m sorry.”

The slow sigh that ran after your words displayed your relief more than you intended. Thinking back to the last time you spoke to him was routine for you.

But this time, instead of being tormented by the hurt laced in the memory of that night, you were now comforted by the fact that your truth was now something he knew.

And you weren’t going to deprive yourself of his, no matter how much it may break you. You were in too deep to consider that now.

“Do I still make you sick to your stomach?”

It was his turn to let out an audible sigh. And it seems as though you weren’t the only one reminiscing back to that night; for his response appeared to be nurtured with time and consideration.

“No y/n, you never did. You never will. I didn't mean that. I wish I had ever said those words to you, but I did. I’m sorry.”

It’s one thing to say something. It’s another to mean it. And it felt nice to hear he didn’t. You knew he could never have meant it, but the assurance you experienced upon his confession pulled apart the remaining angst embedded in your memories. You could only hope he felt the same.

It was cold outside. Somehow, your feet carried you out of the stuffy place, the moon illuminating the still street, a complete contradiction to your surroundings a few seconds ago.

The silence seemed to emphasize your acknowledgement of everything that had happened and was happening. The phone pressed to your ear. The quick beating in your chest. The familiarity of the slow breaths he took as you listened. Your boldness. His patience.

“I’m sorry I called. I know we said we weren’t talking—”

“I miss you too.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His voice low and quiet, almost as if the statement was a passing thought that had slipped past his tongue. But you caught it, as did your denial, that after all this time, he too missed what once was.

A part of you wished your ears had been deaf to his words. Because the way your hand fell to your chest, the way it felt as though your heart had paused, the way tears immediately lined your waterline, was the same way you recognized exactly how much you missed him.

One step forward and three steps back is the damage his words did. But you started it first, and it was only fair to finish what you started.

An absent smile lined your lips with tears falling down your face. Your tears were warm against your cold skin and you so badly wanted the warmth to stay.

“Everything we were scared of happening, happened Minho.”

“Nothing happened in the way we wanted Y/n.”

Your absent smile turned bittersweet, fingers gently grazing your cheek in an attempt to catch the warmth from your eyes. You were right. And he was too. They say that nothing that is meant for you will ever get away, so why did he?

“Is this better for us y/n?”

It’s hard to make peace with something you don't entirely agree with. He hurt you more than anyone else has. But he loved you better than anyone ever did.

“I don't know. I’m still confused.”

Your eyes shut, squeezing what was left of your tears out.

“I do know that I was really happy with you, we were happy together. And we were really good to each other.”

You went into this conversation with hope and uncertainty. It was only normal for that hope and uncertainty to cultivate into doubts and hesitation. He didn’t deserve that. And you didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. Not now. Not ever.

“But….”

“But we’ve been here before. And I want to love you because I love you, not because I need you— I missed you Minho…..I miss you. I’m sorry.”

And in an instant, no sound came from his phone. Your voice, gone, as if it were never there.

Gone before he could familiarize himself with the highs and lows of your tone. Gone before he could tell you to not cry, for he recognized the tell tale signs that you were. Gone before he could say everything he wanted to say and more.

And perhaps that's why he continued to hold the phone to his ear, head falling to the back of his couch as he allowed the words he meant to say to you, the second your name appeared on his phone, break free from his lips.

Barely a mumble, but with his whole heart and all his truth.

“I still love you, I promise.”

26 notes · View notes

michelle4eve · 3 hours

Text

☆ Poems Stray kids members would write for you ☆

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・・・・・☆・・・・☆

~~ Stay tuned ~~

17 notes · View notes

baby-yongbok · 1 month

Text

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 ✧

Chan

Lee Know/Minho

Changbin

Hyunjin

Han

Felix

Seungmin

I.N

3K notes · View notes

soobnny · 4 months

Text

stolen kisses with stray kids — established relationship, extreme fluff, some might be suggestive ? (2.0k words)

moments they steal a kiss & where they do it

chan. during movie night when everyone’s asleep

it’s a little scandalous, they way he reaches for your lips while his friends are asleep during one of your movie nights.

it’s around 2am, and the only reason you’re still awake is because chan’s being extra clingy with the way he squeezes your waist, running his cold hand under your shirt.

how can anyone expect him to fall asleep though? not when you’re so close to him, and he can smell your shampoo, and feel your steady breathing.

“sleepy.” you mumble, grabbing the ends of your shared blanket that jisung had stolen most of hours ago. chan had to excuse himself midway through your third movie to get you a new one.

“hmm.” he hums in response, nuzzling his nose against your hair, hands planting themselves on your bare waist. “is my baby sleepy?”

“mhm.” chan can’t help but grin down at you, disentangling his head from your hair for a moment to look at you—your sleepy smile and drooping eyes. how could he not press his lips on yours when you’re looking at him like that?

it feels like a shot of espresso, and he would’ve gone in for another one had you not fallen asleep, head buried in his neck and arms gripping his shirt.

minho. at the dance practice room while waiting for everyone else to arrive

minho’s arms are immediately locked around your torso the minute you walk into your university’s dance practice room. your boyfriend had rented it out for the evening with his friends to practice their final project, and you’d come with dinner and your support.

“5 minutes.” he whispers with a sinister grin, and you’re about to question what he meant when he goes straight in for your lips. ah, five minutes before his friends get here.

his lips aren’t shy at all. you can feel him growing more desperate as seconds pass, and you don’t know what’s gotten into your boyfriend for him to be kissing you like this, but you don’t exactly have any complaints.

minho kisses up your jaw, pulling your hips closer to his before planting his lips back on yours. and you have to admit, it’s a little attractive to catch a glimpse of the way he’s holding you and the way he’s kissing you from the dance studio’s big fucking mirror.

you don’t even realize how much time had passed. everything felt like a blur with the way your boyfriend was kissing you. but before you know it, there are knocks on the door and minho is breathing heavily against your neck.

he presses one last final kiss on your lips before he’s pulling away from the tight grip he’d placed you in earlier. it’s impressive, the way he immediately switches to a more composed version of himself—unlocking the doors and welcoming his friends inside. the smile on his face is gone, and it makes your face heat up to think that they have no idea what had happened just five minutes before they walked into the studio.

changbin. in the gym room against the lockers

“babe, i have the water bottle you’d left—oh!”

changbin gives you no warning when he kisses you against the lockers of his condominium’s gym. you suppose it’s because he’s the only one there. despite his appearance, your boyfriend is usually shy when it comes to public displays of affection.

it doesn’t help that he has a very visible afterglow after his workout session, sheen of sweat on his arms and forehead, and it really is hard to look away—well, it would’ve been hard if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way he was kissing you. it’s slow, and very very hot because it’s so uncharacteristic of your boyfriend to be kissing you like this where anyone could walk in on you. he lets his lips linger for a little longer than your usual kisses, completely taking away your breath.

when he pulls away, he’s still staring at your lips, and you can see a soft smile playing on his. he sends you another peck on the lips before he’s grabbing at the water bottle in your hand.

“thanks baby.” he downs the water in one chug, arms flexing and playing into the fabric of the top he’s wearing. you’re still against the lockers, where he’d pushed you against earlier, and his free arm is still locking you in place. you feel akin to a schoolgirl, with her crush so close.

the thought of him kissing you again like this has you mentally kicking your feet.

hyunjin. in the art studio’s closet where they keep the supplies

he kisses you in the university’s art studio closet—where they keep the supplies. you’d only meant to help hyunjin clean up, but you find yourself locked between his arms with his lips on yours. maybe it’s something about how your boyfriend is much more romantic when he’s in his artist’s mindset, but he refuses to pull away.

you don’t know he’d spent hours prior trying to paint even just a fraction of how he feels about you on the canvas. you were only able to catch a glimpse of vivid colors, the same that’s staining his hands and clinging to his skin.

hyunjin only pulls away when he accidentally knocks down a stool in the cramped space, pulling away and shyly crinkling his nose. it’s a direct contrast to how rough he’d been, hands roaming every possible inch of your face and neck and waist.

when you step outside, you catch your reflection in the studio’s big studio. the sight makes your cheeks heat up embarrassingly, and hyunjin has to apologize for caking your face with the paint that had been on his hands prior to stealing your lips in that closet.

jisung. at the dorm room while his roommate is away

can someone really blame him? you just looked so kissable with your pouty lips and your furrowed eyebrows. when you’d finally succumbed to studying for the night, jisung wastes no time, catching your lips in his.

he’d give anything to continue pressing his lips into yours for the entirety of his life.

and if not for the rest of his life, then at least for a couple more hours while the sun is still up — and while felix (his roommate) is very much not in their dorm yet.

jisung smiles at you when you pull away—that dumb smile he always gives you when he’s not quite done kissing you yet. he has his hands firmly planted on your hips, and his legs are outstretched so you’re comfortable on his lap.

you have a feeling you’ll leave his dorm with a flushed face and swollen lips. you hope felix isn’t on his way home anytime soon.

felix. while baking seungmin’s birthday cake, everytime jisung exits the kitchen

in his dorm’s mini kitchen while the three of you with jisung bake seungmin’s birthday cake. he only ever does it when his roommate is too distracted with other things like what he should get the younger boy—would a gag gift of a stuffed penis be enough to torment seungmin? you can hear him clearly from the living room, calling out to ask you for advice, but felix stands firm on wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

“felix, stop! jisung might walk in on us.” though you’re telling him to stop, it’s a little hard to convince your boyfriend when you’re giggling and kissing him back.

who could blame felix though? how can he not kiss you when there’s frosting on your lips from decorating the cake? and what better way to clean it than kissing it off?

he has you lifted up on the counter, stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs. you’d shiver once in a while, it can’t be helped when the boy’s running his cold hands up and down your bare skin, hiking your shirt up just a little bit.

and he’s mastered the art of excuses at this point, always having something to say when jisung walks into the kitchen and suspiciously eyes the both of you because why are your lips the same color as the extra frosting.

though, on his hundredth attempt at secretly kissing you, jisung walks right in and immediately screams “my eyes!” as he runs away with his palms covering his eyes.

seungmin. against the bookshelves of the library

“kiss me.” it feels wrong coming out of his lips. your goody two shoes, straight a’s boyfriend, whispering for you to kiss him in the library.

seungmin’s taking advantage of the fact that nobody ever stays at the university’s library past 12am, not when exam seasons are far off. he had dragged you here earlier, something about a project, and with nothing better to do, you’d thought you would accompany him.

you’d expected him to bury his face in his laptop as usual, square glasses on his concentrated face. you didn’t expect to be making out with him against the bookshelves of the library—somewhere by the anatomy section, you don’t even remember anymore.

it’s like he prepared for this too, knowing exactly where you won’t be caught. he has you between his arms, and he ghosts your face terribly close to his.

it really isn’t difficult to admit that seungmin is wildly attractive like this. while you loved your nerdy boyfriend, something about him with his messy hair and his eyeglasses discarded has you breathing erratically.

his lips immediately catch yours when you lean forward to kiss him. it’s a little messy, but you give into it, and into his tongue that’s swiping on your bottom lip. you don’t know what had warranted this, but it definitely isn’t unwelcomed.

you only pull away when you hear the librarian surveying the lines of shelves, noticing that you and seungmin had been gone a little too long. it really isn’t that hard to find a book.

when you come back to your corner table, seungmin doesn’t say anything. his glasses are back on his frame, but it’s hard to miss his smirk and the way he’s running his tongue over his lips once in a while.

jeongin. under the school’s staircase in between class

jeongin loves to steal kisses in between classes. he’d kiss you anywhere, behind your department’s building, inside an empty classroom, anywhere with no prying eyes.

today, it’s under your school’s staircase. he kisses you sweetly, almost romantic. the kind of kiss that tells you he misses you despite it only being a few hours since you last saw each other.

he kisses you over and over in between quiet conversation about how your class went—how was that quiz you had? was it a boring one? he loves listening to you talk, and he loves interrupting you once in a while to place a short peck on your lips. it’s usually when you say your ‘w’s or any letter that puckers your lips up.

similarly, you ask him questions about his class—was his teacher a little less shitty today? did he finish that group project he’d spent many late hours on? what’s on his mind and why is he looking at you like that?

“you.” he says with a smug smile, and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you stare at each other for a while, but jeongin can only go so long without your lips on his so he grabs your chin with his fingers and pulls you gently to place his lips on yours one last time.

the last kisses always last longer, when he knows he’s running out of time, and your next class is looming around the corner. and your boyfriend always knows how to make it count.

“see you on your next break, babe.”

3K notes · View notes

forlix · 4 months

Text

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

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 ˂ )

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.”

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.)

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.

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.”

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.

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.”

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?”

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.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

5K notes · View notes