#skz changbin scenarios | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blossom-hwa · 2 years

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inspired by the conan gray song by the same name. specifically the sped up tiktok version. sue me.

wc: 4.5k ~ changbin x gender neutral!reader ~ university!au, party!au, one-sided love ~ triggers: cursing, mentions of drugs (only in the song, not the story itself), alcohol consumption, allusions to sex, making out but not much else ~ stray kids masterlist

~ When the night is gone and over, you know you won’t see him again. That’s how you know this needs to end.

This party's shit, wish we could dip Go anywhere but here

When you pull up to the house with its flashing lights and thumping music, all you can really think to yourself is one thing.

What am I doing here?

There are a multitude of possible answers. Get drunk. Dance. Have sex. Et cetera. But even as you shove your way through the door with only the most fleeting of smiles at the already-drunk owner, you know that your reason isn’t really one of them.

Well, it kind of is. The third one is part of it. But it’s not so much the having sex part that you really want and more the person you want to find.

Your stomach flips at the thought of him. The guy you like so much, whose kisses feel like a drug – he means everything to you.

It’s too bad you don’t mean much to him.

But in his arms you can pretend, at least, can delude yourself into thinking that what you have is something special. That he would choose you out of a crowd to be with, that he’d go out of his way for you in a way that he wouldn’t for others. It’s pretend, all pretend, but sometimes, you can fool yourself into thinking it’s at least a little bit real.

You squeeze through the crowded kitchen, picking up a cup of something along the way. You take a sniff and a sip – it’s disgusting, but what alcohol isn’t – and keep forging through the house. Maybe you can find him. Maybe he hasn’t left yet.

“Y/N.”

A hand grabs your wrist. Turns you around. Your lips thin into a line as you take in the form of someone who is decidedly not the person you were looking for.

Yeonjun stares back, an eyebrow raised, very much looking the part of the disappointed friend who’s been very vocal about your self-destructive party habits for quite some time. His gaze flickers over your clothes, the cup in your hand, and then he looks back into your eyes to search for something he must already know is going to be there.

And it must be, because his face goes dark with disappointment again.

He sighs. You sigh too, ready to pull away and remind him you’re a dumb adult who can make their own dumb decisions without interference, but Yeonjun’s grip tightens around your wrist and you can’t go anywhere.

“Come on,” he snaps, sounding very tired and very worried all at once. “We need to talk.”

Don't take a hit, don't kiss my lips And please don't drink more beer

Yeonjun somehow magics an empty room out of nowhere, shoving you inside before he enters too. The door shuts with a click and then you two are alone.

He crosses his arms in front of the door. “Why are you here?”

You almost laugh. Wasn’t that the same question you asked yourself as you stepped into the house? The question you know the answer to just as well as Yeonjun does?

When you don’t reply, Yeonjun only sighs. “You’re too attached.”

This time, you do laugh. It comes out bitter, caustic, coated with a layer of self-disgust and desperation. “What, you think I don’t know that?”

“Then why do you keep coming back?” Yeonjun snaps. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N, but he’s just – he’s not –”

Tears threaten to creep their ways out of your eyes and down your cheeks. You force them back. “I know,” you reply, low so your voice doesn’t shake. “I know – but –”

He wouldn’t get it. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t understand how you have to delude yourself into these moments of pretend, if only just to bask in that blissful fake reality where he loves you back, loves you as much as you love him. Because it’s – it’s not scary, but it hurts to live in a world where Changbin doesn’t really care about you outside of sex and parties. It’s not his fault. He’s not a bad person. He just – he doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care.

You’ve started crying. You’ve started crying and the only reason you realize is because Yeonjun’s face crumples and in one, two steps he has you wrapped in a hug, a very comforting hug that is nothing like Changbin’s arms but feels so much better in this moment because Changbin’s embrace is nothing but a dream while you know this is very, very real.

“Do you really need him?” Yeonjun whispers, pulling back just enough that you have to look into his eyes. “Y/N, tell me truthfully, do you really need him?”

“It – it feels like I do,” you say, voice thick with everything you want to say but can’t. “It feels like – like if I don’t do this, I’ll have nothing left – no one will love me –”

“That’s not true.” Yeonjun’s hands find their way to your shoulders, holding you steady. “That’s not true, Y/N. People love you. People will always love you. You don’t need to keep chasing after someone who won’t appreciate you the way you deserve just to pretend that you can be loved because you can have that in reality, okay?” His voice softens to a whisper. “Don’t do this to yourself. Please.”

You have half a mind to snap something back out of sheer defense, to ask something like why do you care or what do you have to do with this the same way you did several times before. But the longer you look at Yeonjun, the longer you stare at the lines of the frown on his face, the downward curve of his lips, the hot desperation in his eyes, the more you see something broken in his expression.

Something about as broken as you feel inside.

“Okay.” The word leaves your lips like a breath of air – soft, involuntary, barely a whisper. It surprises you at first – you don’t think you can say it again – but you find the word still on your tongue and it comes out once more, a little louder this time. “Okay. I – I won’t.”

I'ma crawl outta the window now 'Cause I don't like anyone around

Something cracks in Yeonjun’s expression, relief and a thousand other emotions you can’t decipher pouring from every line on his face. It looks a little familiar, this expression, but you can’t quite figure out this mix of emotions and you don’t have the energy to try. You only shed a few tears but it feels like a river poured from your eyes with the way your body just wants to collapse on the floor and knock out right then and there.

“I’m going to leave,” you say, tearing your attention from Yeonjun’s expression to the door behind him.

“Okay.” Yeonjun’s hands fall from your shoulders and you miss their warmth for a moment before another wave of exhaustion crashes over your body and you can’t quite remember it anymore. “Want me to come with you?”

“Did you drive?”

He nods.

“So did I.” You sigh. “It’s fine. I only had a sip, I’m sober. I can get myself home.”

Yeonjun looks at you for a long moment. For a second it looks like he has something he wants to say, but then he doesn’t and you conclude it’s just your brain playing tricks on you as usual. “Text me when you get back.”

You muster a small smile on your way out the door. “I will.”

Kinda hope you're following me out But this is definitely not my crowd

The smell of alcohol and sweat fills your nose immediately when you leave the room. Fighting the urge to gag, you squeeze along the wall towards the main room where you know you came from. God, you hate this – you already know you’re going to be taking a long shower when you get back.

You put your cup down on a table, still full of whatever punch or jungle juice you got for yourself before Yeonjun knocked some sense into your brain. You don’t bother to remember where you left it – there’s no point. You won’t be back.

This is so bad. You never should’ve come here. Isn’t it stupid, the things you’ll do for a guy who barely pays attention to you other than a wave and a smile when he sees you sober? It’s dumb, so dumb – why are you so dumb –

Wouldn’t it be funny, your brain decides to say, if Changbin saw you right now and called your name?

Funny, indeed. You have to snort.

Is it bad that you kind of want it to happen?

“Y/N!”

What the –

Nineteen but you act twenty-five now Knees weak, but you talk pretty fly, wow

You whirl around, heart fluttering at the familiar voice as a dumb little smile threatens to spread across your expression –

It isn’t too hard to quash when you see the state that Changbin’s already in.

Stumbling slightly, a can sloshing in his hand. Red tinges his cheeks, a tinge that will turn into a flush if he doesn’t put down that can of godforsaken beer and his eyes are a touch too unfocused to be normal. “Changbin,” you say, low voice a contrast to his loud chirp of joy. “Hey, come on –” you grab his arm as he almost trips over air – “god, how much have you had to drink?”

“Some,” is the only vague answer you receive. Well, at least he’s responding to questions. “Why are you wallflower-ing around? You could be with your pick of people.” He winks greasily, and despite everything you have to suppress a smile. “Or you could’ve found me.”

Yeah. You could’ve. You probably would’ve if a certain someone hadn’t cornered you half an hour ago, eyes dark with something between disapproval and worry as he took in your dressed-up form, lips already opening like something of a warning.

A warning you said you’d try to heed.

God, this was a mistake. Such a fucking mistake. You resist the urge to scream as Changbin’s smile doesn’t fade. You promised Yeonjun you’d leave – promised because you knew he was right, had known it for a long time – but here you are, trapped again in Changbin’s eyes and unable to leave just like every other damn time.

“I haven’t been here long,” you say, ignoring the furrow of Changbin’s eyebrows that signals he doesn’t understand why you just got here when the party’s been going on for at least an hour. He doesn’t need to know it’s a lie. “And I’m already bored.”

Changbin’s eyes darken as he takes another sip from whatever vile concoction is in his cup. All it does is make your heart rate spike. “Bored?”

You’re too attached, Yeonjun had said. And I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N, but he’s just – he’s not –

He’s not. Yeonjun was right. Changbin is only interested in something other than a friendly smile and a wave when he’s had something to drink and so have you and there’s only one thing (or so he thinks) on your minds.

He doesn’t know. He probably will never know. It kills you to know that, and it’s why you said you’d leave. That you wouldn’t come back, that you wouldn’t seek Changbin out ever again.

“Yeah, bored.” You raise an eyebrow, lifting your lips in the smirk you know Changbin loves to see on your face. “Wanna make out?”

Ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed Take me where the music ain't too loud

Somewhere along the way, the strobe lights and thrumming music that you hated so much before disappear into the haze of Changbin’s lips. It always happens this way – always – his kisses like a drug, turning your mind fuzzier than all the alcohol in the room could.

Maybe it’s the knowledge that this is the only time you’ll ever be able to taste the honey sweetness of his lips, feel the gentle firmness of his body pressed against yours, that addicts you to him so much. Because you could never do this outside in daylight, could never do this anywhere but under the cover of sweaty darkness at another one of these mind-numbing parties.

He does something and you gasp into the kiss, giving him the opening to bite your lip softly, nip it just enough for want to pool dark and heavy in your stomach, a fire beginning to simmer in your blood.

Maybe it’s that. Or maybe it’s just the fact that Changbin kisses better than anyone you’ve ever met.

Strong arms pull you closer to him as he groans into your mouth, hands rising along your body, leaving a trail of fire everywhere he touches. You lean into it – press into it because you want it, need it so much –

Do you really need him?

Don’t do this to yourself.

“Y/N?”

You blink. The haze of the world has fallen away, the piercing lights and terrible music back in full force as Changbin pulls away, lips swollen but eyes narrowed with concern. Too late you realized you haven’t been responding enough, and, god –

This is why you love him. This is why you’re so damn attached – because Changbin may not care for you in the way you want to care for him, but even drunk, he does care in some small, important ways, and it’s always those small things that make you hope for more even though you know you’re never going to get it.

“You good?”

You could say no. You could just say no, tell him you aren’t feeling well and leave. Never come back. Heed Yeonjun’s advice and do your best to never see Changbin again. He wouldn’t notice. He wouldn’t care. Not in the way you wanted to, anyway.

You promised you would leave. You should be long gone.

Instead, because you’re an addict hooked on the drug of Changbin’s kisses, you’re still here.

You nod your head. “It’s a little loud,” you say, and you almost have to laugh when Changbin’s eyebrows rise in sardonic reply. “And crowded.”

As if on cue, someone’s elbow knocks your shoulder and you jerk forward with a hiss, nearly falling right into Changbin’s chest.

And suddenly you’re close again, and even though you were making out just seconds ago this tiny distance between his lips and yours makes your heart pound even faster than when you were kissing.

“We could leave,” Changbin says, breath ghosting across your skin. It smells like beer and punch and a little sweet, too, in the way that Changbin is poisonously, addictingly sweet. “My place or yours?”

Trade drinks, but you don't even know her Save me 'till the party is over

It’s so easy to feel special when he’s like this. So easy. And if you were still the you from months ago when you first met eyes with one Seo Changbin at a party like this, you’d probably give in to the feeling even if you knew what you do now.

But you aren’t special. You aren’t. Because you’ve seen Changbin flirt with people who weren’t you at other parties, seen him pass a girl a drink with a smile and trade a laughs with a boy who took even your breath away. You’ve seen him kissing so many people in so many corners, watching him stumble out of the door, giggling with someone on his arm that wasn’t you. You’ve seen it. Watched it. Witnessed it.

And even if you’re one that Changbin favors a little more than the others, it doesn’t matter. Because in the end, even if he’s everything you want, you’re only a piece of what he wants.

“You’re drunk,” you say in response, because that’s the only defense you can pull that isn’t the flat-out neither that would result in either an unpleasant confrontation or you giving in and saying yours like you’ve always done before. “I’ll drive you home.”

“So, mine?”

It won’t hurt to let him believe that for a bit. It won’t, you tell yourself, even though you do feel kind of bad for leading him on – but he’s already so drunk and you know he can’t drive, you should at least keep him from stumbling home on his own or throwing up in an Uber later.

You just want to spend more time with him, the evil rational voice in the back of your mind says.

It’s right.

“Sure,” is all you say, hauling yourself up from the couch. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

Kiss me in the seat of your Rover Real sweet, but I wish you were sober

He kisses you long and hard in the car, a hand on your thigh as he creeps closer and closer. Your keys jingle in your hand, nearly slipping from your fingers as you let his lips drag down the side of your neck and into the hollow of your throat.

“You’re gonna – Changbin – you’re gonna need to let me drive, you know,” you finally gasp, giving him a little shove. And I’m going to get drunker on your kisses if you keep going. “Let me get you home.”

“Driving can wait,” he says into the bruises he’s sucking into your skin. “It can wait as long as we need.”

I wish you were sober (Wish you were so, wish you were so, wish you were sober) I wish you were sober

God, you wish he was sober.

Tripped down the road, walking home You kissed me at your door

Driving along the empty streets, it doesn’t take long to get to Changbin’s apartment. In front of the familiar building, you have to swallow a lump of emotion that again, you don’t have the energy to decipher.

“Come on,” you say, helping him out of the car. “Where are your keys?”

They’re in his pocket. But clearly Changbin has little intention of actually going inside in a proper fashion because when you shove your hand into his pocket to get them out, he takes advantage and presses you up against the door of his apartment and brings your lips together once more.

Pulling me close, begging me to stay over But I'm over this rollercoaster

Your mind spins. On one hand this is kind of your fault for not making it clear before you left the party, but on the other you need to get out of here and you don’t owe Changbin anything, nothing at all – you promised that you’d stop, promised you’d leave the party with no more strings attached, and you’ve already fucked up the second half of that promise so you need to at least follow through with the first half before you break down and lose yourself again –

Somewhere along the way, Changbin has taken the keys from your hand and unlocked his door. The two of you stumble inside, still joined together as Changbin’s arm snakes around your waist, his teeth biting small marks into your neck and shoulders. You gasp – a soft moan escapes your lips when he sucks there, right there – and holy shit, you want this more than anything.

Do you? Do you really?

It’s like ice cold water douses your whole body. Because yes, you want this. You want to feel Changbin’s body on you, want to feel his lips press kisses onto every inch of your skin before the night is over. But that’s a superficial want – it isn’t what you really need.

Changbin can’t give you what you need. Won’t give you what you need. Not now. Not ever.

You heave a shaky breath. Push him away.

“Stop.”

I'ma crawl outta the window now Getting good at saying, "gotta bounce"

Changbin blinks. “What?”

Honestly you always let me down And I know we're not just hanging out

You take another deep breath. Fix Changbin’s unfocused eyes with your own.

“I need to stop.”

Nineteen but you act twenty-five now Knees weak, but you talk pretty fly, wow

Confusion fills Changbin’s flushed face. A hint of clarity comes back into his expression and he steps away immediately, but the confusion only mixes with concern. “Are you all right? I – did I do something – I’m sorry if I did –”

And, fuck – that’s just what it is. That concern. That worry. That immediate apology in case he did something that made you uncomfortable, the base kindness you’d expect and even demand from anyone else but that feels special coming from him.

It feels like – like if I don’t do this, I’ll have nothing left – no one will love me –

It feels like love, a semblance of it, when Changbin has his lips on yours, his hands roaming everywhere on your body as yours trail up his back, to his shoulders, finding purchase around his neck and in his hair. It feels like it. You want it to feel like it.

But it isn’t love. On your part, maybe. But not on his.

People love you. People will always love you. You don’t need to keep chasing after someone who won’t appreciate you the way you deserve just to pretend that you can be loved because you can have that in reality, okay?

Don’t do this to yourself. Please.

You shake your head. “You didn’t do anything.” Your voice is raspier than you’d like it, a sure sign of tears that want to come, but you force them back. “It’s me. I just can’t do this.”

Ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed Take me where the music ain't too loud

If anything, the confusion on Changbin’s face only intensifies. “Then… why?”

Trade drinks, but you don't even know her Save me 'till the party is over

You have a lot of memories in this apartment. Nights spent in passion and mind-numbing bliss, bruises sucked into each other’s skin, heated kisses as you explored each other’s mouths, arms encasing you until you almost felt safe from the world in their warmth.

Your eyes flicker to where you know the bedroom is. The dinky little mattress that you could be on now, if you just gave up this time and kept going. Changbin is drunk enough – he probably wouldn’t remember what you said in the morning if you put a stop to it right now. You could make another bittersweet memory here, drown yourself in the love you have for a man who doesn’t even know. You could do it, pretend you’re special for one more night.

Kiss me in the seat of your Rover Real sweet, but I wish you were sober

And yet every one of the memories here was under the cover of darkness. Under the influence of alcohol, at least on his part, smelling of beer and punch as he pulled you onto the mattress. Never in the daylight. Never where he’d want to see you without your party guise on.

Knowing this, it’s getting really difficult to keep pretending you’re something special.

I wish you were sober (Wish you were so, wish you were so, wish you were sober) I wish you were sober

You take a step back, letting a soft, sad little smile that you’ve never shown him before curve your lips. “You’d never do this if you were sober,” you say to uncomprehending eyes. “And that’s not what I want.”

I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish I wish you were sober I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish I wish you were sober

It turns out Changbin isn’t too drunk, you guess. Because his expression clears just a bit in some understanding, as much comprehension as the alcohol will allow. Conflicting emotions flash across his face and for the umpteenth time this evening you have zero desire to try and figure them out, both because you’re too tired and because you don’t really want to know what Changbin is thinking.

Poor Y/N. How could they have done this, how could they have tricked themselves into wanting something they couldn’t have?

God, fuck your mind for being able to think. Hypotheticals are bad on a good day and horrible on a bad one. Like this. If you were drunk – if you’d had more than a sip of that stupid punch –

You were always sober when you came over. It’s easier to feel the moment when you aren’t drunk, too lost in a haze of alcohol to enjoy what you can. You’re sober now, just like all those times before.

It’s the first time you kind of wish you weren’t.

Nineteen but you act twenty-five now Knees weak, but you talk pretty fly, wow

“You’re drunk,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think to say without going into a messy spiel and possibly crying all over the floor. “Drink some water and get some sleep.” You try to smile. “I have to go.”

Ripped jeans and a cup that you just downed Take me where the music ain't too loud

When you turn away, you take a last glance at the bedroom, at the couch. Again, you want it – want it so badly you almost look back at Changbin to tell him to forget everything you said, ignore every word that came from your mouth, you didn’t mean any of it. The lingering confusion on his face hurts. You don’t want to leave him like this.

Trade drinks, but you don't even know her Save me 'till the party is over

But then in what way would you leave him? You don’t speak outside of night hours. All you can hope for is a wave and a smile when you pass each other on campus. How would you tell him, even? Hey, Changbin, I can’t sleep with you anymore because I’m kind of in love with you and I know you don’t feel the same.

How stupid would that sound?

You have to do it now. Surrounded by the reminders that you aren’t special to him so that you can’t delude yourself more. Because this isn’t for Changbin. It’s for you. A one-sided breakup, if you will.

That sounds even stupider. But you know, deep down inside, that you need it. That it’s true.

Kiss me in the seat of your Rover Real sweet, but I wish you were sober

You fully turn away. Speak with lips he kissed just ten minutes ago, all without looking back.

“Good night, Changbin.”

The door shuts quietly behind you.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for mc to get over changbin quick, and another prayer for yeonjun bc he’s so in love with mc that it hurts)

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milkybonya · 2 years

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☆彡romance symphony

🎼 love as: i love you so much that you've changed my perception of the world_낭만교향곡

🎼 track 01 of the 낭만 (NANGMAN) -- do you believe in romance? series

🎼 Changbin falls so hard for the flute player in an orchestra that he forgets he's a hip-hop rapper

#warnings!: 3racha, some angst, takes a while for y/n and Changbin to officially meet, only half proof read, definitely more than 1k words but idk exactly how long T-T

[💌: band kids raise your hands! band kids who were flute players raise your hands! i dedicate this to you <3 hehe]

being a musician means learning to appreciate all genres of music. you don't have to succeed in all of them, but you can't be ignorant and turn a blind eye on everything but the genre you choose to pursue.

so far, hard-headed Changbin has only had eyes and ears for rap and hip-hop. he's had no patience for any other kind of sound. every night, he writes angry rap lyrics with his two best friends, Han and Chan.

until Chan decides he's had enough.

the three boys seem to have hit a slump: always arguing, songs always left unfinished, no new ideas, everything sounds the same... so, he searches for a way to save his boys from this mess.

tickets to the local orchestra performance.

somehow, this ends up being the solution. his mom has some tickets handy and Chan begs for her to give them to him, which she does.

"guys, guys! are you free saturday night? wait, scratch that. you will be free saturday night. we're gonna see an orchestra performance and neither of you are allowed to miss it!" Chan tells his friends in their makeshift studio.

"orchestra? pfft hyung, come on now. we should be seeing rappers! orchestra?" Changbin scoffs, shaking his head.

Han stays quiet, considering the idea.

"don't tell me you're agreeing to this," Changbin tells Han, who shrugs.

"you're all agreeing, 'cause if you don't come, us, 3racha will be no more!" Chan exclaims.

"we'll disband over not attending an orchestra performance?!" Han finally chimes in.

"yeah, so... choose wisely," Chan says, laying the tickets on the small desk in the room.

"hyung, what do we wear?" Han asks Chan on the phone.

the three boys are all at their own places, getting ready to leave for the performance they gave in to seeing.

"well, obviously not streetwear. something smart, neat," Chan explains.

all Changbin can find is a white and blue striped dress shirt along with cream-coloured pants. luckily, he has dress shoes as well.

"and please, let's neatly do our hair! no hiding it under hats," Chan says.

eventually, the boys show up to the performance. they turn heads. anyone would want to stare at a trio of handsome, young men dressed neatly. the boys, though, think it's because something is wrong with their appearance. they nervously try to maintain confidence, fidgeting with their buttons and looking at their shoes to 'make sure' they're clean.

during one of these moments when Changbin is preoccupied with making sure he looks okay, he bumps into...

you.

you, who has lost their way trying to get to the break room for some water. flute in hand, dressed like an angel from head to toe.

there is no time for you and Changbin to exchange proper greetings, since you're in a rush. all you can manage is a 'sorry' before you rush off.

yet, Changbin gets a good look at you and how your fingers grasp the flute with ease, proof that you've had to hold the instrument up an infinite amount of times. you and your delicate hair, your gorgeous eyes, your precious lips and lovely nose. the way your attire flutters slightly as you rush past.

you leave him in a daze but he shrugs it off, following his friends to their assigned seats.

once they're there, Han marvels at how close they're seated.

"your mom is the coolest, Chan! She got us seats this close?!" Han exclaims.

"the tickets were for herself at first so... but i'm glad you're happy!" Chan cooes Han, tickling the bottom of his chin while Han laughs.

their loud, wild behaviour sets them apart from everyone else. the people around them are all sophisticated, calm, quiet. seeing them, Changbin suts up straight and clears his throat, neatly crossing his arms.

"are you doing royal family roleplay or what?" Han scoffs at him.

"might as well play the part if we're in such a fancy place," Changbin says, followed by hums of agreement from Chan.

Han sits back in his seat, slouching. he's stubborn, never willing to bend for anyone. and up until now, Changbin thought he was the same, too. he won't be able to pinpoint why he suddenly decides to sit up straight in that theatre at that moment until years later, when he discovers it to be because of you.

you, who scurries up on stage right as he remembers you.

sitting so close means he can see and recognize you well as you take your seat in the front row, stage left. he holds his breath as he watches the orchestra tuning themselves. he hopes you'll do a good job, even though he somehow already knows you will.

as the audience goes quiet and the performance begins, for some reason, he can't take his eyes off you. he loves how you're absorbed in the music, body swaying slightly and foot tapping to keep the beat.

then, oh then, you have a solo for a few seconds! maybe for close to a minute!! the lights dim and the onoy spotlight is on you. Changbin is holding his breathe the entire time, feeling both intrigued and nervous. he's in awe hearing and watch you play those notes together so quickly.

once your solo ends, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, relaxing in his seat. he can't believe you just did that..

the performance ends and everyone claps as the performers take a bow before exiting the stage. Changbin stands up, eager to see if he can find you and find out your name, anything at all about you.

"why the rush?" Chan ask, eyeing Changbin.

"just gotta go to the bathroom," Changbin says. Chan and Han let him go first.

he rushes out of the seating area and towards the lobby. wandering around, he finds the waiting room for all the performers. there's no way he'll go in there, that would just be plain rude. but, he can't resist peeking inside when the door is already open...

"y/n, your flute case is over here! i can't believe you. you've got so many keychains attached to it but still lose the damn thing."

Changbin watches you rush over to the person who spoke, laughing and taking your flute case from them.

so... your name is y/n? and you like keychains on your flute case. Changbin smiles down at the ground. you're so precious...

he leaves before anyone seems him and returns to his friends.

"so, how was that?" Chan asks.

"can we go to the next one?" Changbin sheepishly replies.

"huh?!" says Han.

"the next one.. it's in two weeks, here again. seems like they hold a performance here every two weeks."

"wow... i didn't know you liked it that much," Chan says.

Changbin isn't sure if he 'liked it' or just likes you.

from that day on, with or without his friends, Changbin attends every single one of your performances. he also reads up on classical music, starts watching romance instead of comedies and even finds himself eating healthier.

the existence of a graceful, angelic flute player in his life sends all his hip-hop habits down the drain.

it's as though your performances are lectures he studies up for, learning names of composers just so he can recognize when you perform their pieces. you always have his full attention and his eyes are always on you.

"hey, Changbin.. this idea is actually not half bad!" Chan says after Changbin suggests something in their studio.

he's always at his highest after watching one of your performances.

"y/n's solo made me think about writing the topline like this, for some reason," Changbin says, blushing slightly.

"you simp," Han says, patting Changbin's back aggressively.

"shut up," Changbin replies, scowling but turning red immediately.

that night, the song writing is super fast. the three boys get it done on the spot and release it on several music streaming sites as they usually do, not really expecting much.

until the next day, they wake up to the song doing numbers they could have never imagined.

have you heard of 3racha?! their newest song blew up, but even their old songs are so good!

i'm definitely a fan.. i think Han is gonna be my favourite

do you think they'll ever perform live?

thousands and thousands of comments appeared on youtube for them, along with messages on instagram and twitter, tags and mentions on all platforms. the boys were overwhelmed and didn't know what to do.

luckily, they were able to find someone named Hyunjin, who they could trust as their manager. he made sure the boys didn't make any reckless decisions. he also was the one who encouraged them to go forward with their first interview.

"a few of your fans who have actually been there from the start have noticed a shift in your sound with your newest track. is there any reason for that?" the interview on your tv asks this group called... sriracha or something. you just turned the tv on so you wouldn't have to eat breakfast in your apartment alone.

"yeah, well... actually, we reached a slump some time before this. so, i suggested we go watch an orchestra performance to change things up. i think after that, we got a lot more inspired," some guy named 'Chan' explains.

"i think Changbin was the msot inspired though," 'Han' chimes in, laughing and slapping the back of who you presume to be 'Changbin'.

he blushes slightly and looks down, and for some reason he looks familiar.

"and why's that, Changbin?" the interviewer asks.

Changbin seems flustered, but he still replies after the rest of 3racha encourage him.

"well... i think i found the muse of my life at that performance. they're part of the orchestra and always sit stage left, first row with a flute in hand--"

"hey, isn't that too specific?" Chan cuts in.

"no, it doesn't matter. i want to thank them. y/n, if you ever watch this.. thank you for inspiring me. i'll thank you in person someday, i promise."

the spoon falls out of your hand and lands on the table, but you don't even blink.

you're.. this man's... first love?

"do you know Changbin? he's totally in love with you!"

"have you spotted him at performances? i definitely have, he looks so familiar"

"do you think he'll be there today, too?"

your fellow musicians just don't shut up about Changbin and it drives you mad. it also makes you anxious about performing even though you never feel that way.

it's been two weeks since the interview and everyone's been on your case about it. of course it just has to get worse on the day of your orchestra's monthly performance.

you ignore everyone as they press you with questions and you leave the break room and performance hall entirely, clutching your flute to your chest.

out in the free air, you let out a sigh of relief, searching with your eyes for a spot to enjoy the fresh air. you notice a man dressed in all black, leaning against the platform railing with a cigarette in hand. his hair is cut neatly to his chin and he adorns black sunglasses as he watches the lazy sun lay herself on the horizon.

you're not one to approach strangers, but for some reason, it feels like.

"mind if i join you?" you ask the man, who immediately removes his sunglasses out of courtesy. he places them in the pocket of his long, black jacket.

"of course not, love. does the cigarette bother you? i can out it out if you'd like," he offers, but you assure him that it's okay.

he smiles and takes another puff, being mindful to blow the air away from you

"quite the instrument you've got there. will you be performing tonight?" he asks.

"yeah... stage left and front row," you say.

"stage left? that sounds famil--oh! are you perhaps y/n?" he asks.

"i am... how did you know?"

"i'm Hyunjin, 3racha's manager. Changbin seems to... be greatly inspired by you."

you drop your head. not Changbin, again.

"i wish i could say i'm honoured, but all i hear is everyone talking about him, him, him. it's like they only know me 'cause of him and i'm fed up," you explain.

Hyunjin nods along, taking another drag.

"i hear you. i told him not to call you out like that, the idiot. but i think he's hopelessly in love. i'm truly sorry on his behalf."

you shake your head. "that's alright, not your fault."

"hope you don't mind that we're here to watch you perform. 3racha and i will leave if you're uncomfortable in any way--"

"no! please. music is for all to enjoy, regardless of any personal factors. stay and enjoy the show," you say.

Hyunjin smiles, his eyes gleaming at you.

"you sound like a true musician."

you later return to the break room feeling refreshed, earbuds in so no one will talk to you. your conversation with Hyunjin definitely cheered you up, and you step onto the stage feeling more relaxed. yet, you still can't stop your eyes from searching for Changbin. once you find him, you feel more nervous than ever.

he's sat forward in his seat, elbows on his knees and chin resting on the palms of his hands. he's probably noticed you staring, since he smiles. even Hyunjin, sitting next to him, gives you a small wave. you wave back out of courtesy, but the person sitting next to you nudges you.

"waving at your man up there?"

you shake your head in disappointment and don't reply.

despite being nervous, you give the audience the show of a lifetime. you show your all, stand up, bow, and head back to the break room.

only to find a huge bouquet of flowers waiting for you.

everyone cheers and you feel uncomfortable, confused. what's going on?

that's until a man reveals himself from behind the bouquet. it's none other than Changbin.

too much to bear, you run off, out of the break room and down a random hallway.

"wait!" Changbin calls out as you storm off. he reaches out for your hand, grasping at nothing but air as you're already too far for him to reach.

you stop in your tracks. might as well hear him out.

"just who are you? for making me feel this way.. i just want to know you... properly," Changbin says.

you look back and look at him. he's wringing his hands together and his eyes are droopy. the collar of his dress shirt is slightly wrinkled, probably from him rubbing his neck because of how stressed out he was just a few moments ago, waiting for you to enter the breakroom.

"i'm.. y/n," you say, your brain faltering.

Changbin sighs.

"i already know your name, y/n. you play first flute and always sit stage left in the first row," he explains.

you roll your eyes. it's that same thing, other and over. the same thing he said in that stupid interview.

"then what do you want to know?" you spit out, "you seem to know everything about me, don't you? and then you feel confident enough to spew it all on live television. thanks for that, but i don't need any pity fame."

Changbin visibly hesitates for a second before taking a step forward and finally reaching for your hand. you resist pushing his hand away, wondering what he's up to. surprisingly, your heart rate picks up and your skin grows hot. why does his hand feel so... comfy?

"y/n, we haven't even had a proper conversation yet, but you've already changed my whole world. i used to rap, now i watch orchestra performances on a daily basis. i used to wear baggy tees but now they're all button-ups. y/n... i just want to get to know you. i know this is so forward and i know i messed up. so i want to say sorry. i'm sorry, y/n. do you think we can start anew?"

you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

"i've always believed in second chances. if i've really.. changed you this much then i guess it doesn't hurt to see exactly who you are," you say.

your mouth moves faster than your head and you don't even realize how you feel until after you're done talking.

Changbin grins, looking at the floor and biting his lip slightly. the person whom he's fallen for is giving him a chance already despite not knowing much about him? it's like fate.

he's still holding your hand and he tugs on it slightly before he speaks.

"how about we leave this place and go somewhere with a nice night view, somewhere we can talk?" he asks.

"i'd kill to get away from my nosy orchestra members. let's go, Changbin," you say.

that's all he needs to hear before he whisks you away, running through the hall to some random exit.

"why does this feel like some old-timey romance movie where the two leads runaway?" you ask Changbin, who stops running once you're out of the building.

he raises the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it only when you consent.

"because you've turned me into an old-timey romantic, y/n. i just wish i had a nice, classic, black car to drive us away in but... i have to call Hyunjin to.. escort us somewhere."

you laugh, somehow feeling yourself unwinding completely in Changbin's presence, fully relaxed.

"it's a romance movie where we have a runaway driver--even better!" you joke.

Changbin melts at the sight of you throwing your head back as you laugh, the wind rustling your clothes. he's so in love already, and he barely knows a thing about you. but the fact that he's changed so much because of you is enough proof of this love.

46 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

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luvyeni · 3 months

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𐙚 : SELLING MY BOYFRIEND W/ STRAYKIDS (smau) ֶָ֢ !

request: can you make the selling my bf thing but for skz? pls n thxx

authors note. no problem luv , i hope you like it <3!!!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

©️LUVYENI

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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 ✧

Chan

Lee Know/Minho

Changbin

Hyunjin

Han

Felix

Seungmin

I.N

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soobnny · 4 months

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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.”

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daaawnnn · 5 months

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photocard

skz reaction: you pulling another member’s photocard

pairing: bf!skz x gn!reader

warnings: reader is referred to as wife in han’s

©daaawnnn

reblogs are appreciated!

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bluejutdae · 10 days

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• wearing boyfriend Stray Kids’ clothes in public | OT8 x you

warnings: slightly suggestive

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blossom-hwa · 2 years

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inspired by an idea I came up with a while back that you can find here :)

wc: 1.8k ~ changbin x gender neutral!reader ~ pirate!au ~ triggers: mentions of blood and death ~ stray kids masterlist

~ Pirates attack, but with the blood comes an old memory.

[ riptide prince ] When the pirates come, your village hides.

In theory, everyone knows what to do. Flee to the forest if you can, ensconce yourself and your loved ones in the bushes and the trees or far enough in its depths that you only have to hide from predators of the Earthen Mother instead of pirates with their shining swords and lightning eyes. It’s the closest bet of safety from the carnage that will line the village the next day.

In theory, it’s a plan. A procedure, if you will, meant to take the edge off the anxiety when one mentions the possibility of the unexpected expected - the blood and plunder that line stories of old and new. It probably helps. To some, at least.

But not you.

Because there’s always been something that bothers you about this standard procedure, this clear-cut plan. It looks so clean, so orderly, so unquestionable in its directions - one, get to the forest, two, hide yourself. One almost forgets what it doesn’t say.

What do you do when the forest isn’t an option?

Maybe that’s because the answer is so simple it doesn’t even need to be said.

Hide. And pray.

Something you’re glad to have had experience with, because when the pirates attack this time, you’re too far from the forest to take any sort of chance to run.

They spot the ragged flag in the early hours of morning, from what you understand. The unknown ship was but a spot in the distance at that time. Anyone by the water had enough time to race for the trees, to hide themselves in green foliage or even the next village if they were fast enough.

Those who lived further away would not be so lucky.

You see the ship before you hear the warning - that’s how late it is. Few are so selfless as to risk their own safety to bring news to the damned (what is the point of warning them, you’ve heard people say, if they’re already doomed to die?), but one brave soul arrives just minutes after the initial panic has begun to set in with news that confirms your worst fears.

The ripped flag is exactly what you dread most.

Pirates.

There’s no time to run, then. Not to the forest, not anywhere that could provide sufficient cover. People panic around you as your heart races faster and faster, memories rushing back of the last attack five years ago that you survived by the skin of your teeth, arm and shoulder slashed and blood dripping over your clothes, enough blood that they thought you were dead when they passed your body, giving you enough time to crawl your way back to your ransacked apothecary and hide behind a fallen shelf.

It was devastating, then. So many dead. Your parents, cut down by swords as they tried to run home from the market. Your neighbors, mere bodies in the streets by the time the pirates were finished. And worst, worst of all because you never found the body, never found proof that he was dead, never heard anything that told you whether or not he was still alive -

Changbin, disappeared that day from the manor. Not... dead, probably, at least not then. Kidnapped, maybe. Held for a ransom.

The pirates didn’t know that his parents didn’t care for him. Not the second son, the family disappointment who mingled with the common folk. They didn’t know that the village aristocrats wouldn’t pay a copper for their second son’s release.

He’s probably dead now. Your best friend with the silk tunics he didn’t care were dirty, with the dark eyes and bright smile that only grew more and more brilliant as the years passed. The boy you cared for as a friend, and later as a lover - taken hostage by pirates, then probably drowned at sea.

A choked cry sputters from your lips. The sound of your own voice jerks you from your thoughts, clears your blurred vision and muffled hearing until you can see and hear the panic overtaking the village. You blink at the clear ocean, at the ship coming closer and closer -

And duck into your rundown apothecary, locking the door shut behind you.

You knew you’d never have time to run. You knew - only those who lived further in would ever reach the forest. You sweep through the tiny rooms, shutting windows and bolting doors, before throwing yourself into the cramped closet.

You know when the attack has started by the screams. High-pitched, terrifying shrieks coupled with the rough shouts and yells of get out of the way before someone else screams and you swear you hear the thump of a body fall. The very earth seems to shake beneath your feet, the flimsy closet creaking and swaying as footsteps pound closer and closer.

Your eyes slam shut. Your hands clench into fists so tight your nails begin to bite sharp into your palms, dull pain to keep your mind off the screaming that grows louder and louder by the second, by the minute -

But there is no screaming.

You open your eyes to the closet’s darkness. Commotion still sounds in the distance, but the shouts have gone.

It’s quiet.

You blink. You could’ve sworn you heard the screams getting louder before they stopped - is it really all over so soon?

One minute passes. Two, then three. You count the seconds to the beat of your racing heart - four, five, six...

Maybe it is over. Maybe it was just that fast.

You take a shaky breath, slowly releasing one of your hands from its clenched fist. It reaches out to push open the closet, slow, slow -

A knock sounds at your door.

. . .

It takes every fiber of your being not to scream.

Heart in your throat, hand over your mouth, you wait. Five seconds, ten seconds, fifteen seconds... at five minutes, you decide, if five minutes pass and you hear nothing again, it was a hallucination. Just a hallucination.

Thirty seconds. Thirty-five. Forty -

It comes again, drumbeats of Death at your door. You keep your eyes shut tight, biting your palm in an effort not to shake so much that the tiny shop comes down around you. Maybe it’ll be fast. Hopefully it’ll be fast. No suffering, no pain, just reunion with your lost loves -

But -

A familiar voice calls your name.

“Y/N?”

. . .

Something in that single word knocks the air out of your chest. It isn’t so much your name that was spoken but the voice - the voice with which it was said -

You know that voice. You know it. Even deeper, raspier, coated with a slight accent that didn’t used to be present - you know it, even though the last time you heard it was many years ago.

The day before the pirates attacked, when Changbin smiled and bid you goodbye until the next morning.

Something seems to drag you, an invisible force that opens your trembling fist and pushes open the closet, pulls you forward until you reach the door with silent shuffling steps. But as your hand opens, touches the doorknob -

You pause. Because what if it’s a trick? And you know you have done nothing to the gods to warrant such a cruel trick, but just - what if -

“What did we do on your twelfth birthday?”

Your words carry through the door, the barest hint of a whisper that filters through the wood. For a moment you feel stupid - what kind of question is that, why did you ask, what if someone isn’t even there - but then the deep rasp of a familiar voice speaks with a certainty that breaks the final wall around your heart.

“We climbed a tree to see the moon at night, but I fell off the branch. You tried to catch me and fell off too.” Nostalgia tinges the edge of that familiar voice, wistful amusement aching in its tones. “I broke my arm, and you hit your forehead against a rock.”

A pause.

The voice grows softer. Hesitant.

“If you open the door, I can show you where.”

A choked sob builds in your throat. Your hand curls around the doorknob.

And flings it open.

He looks the same, but at the same time, he doesn’t. Black hair frames his face in longer locks that would have made his father rage, and a sword hangs by his side. Blood stains patched clothing and more of it drips down a cut on his face, but his eyes -

They’re just as you remembered.

A rough, calloused hand reaches out, a far cry from the smooth skin of a pampered noble boy that he used to boast. Those familiar eyes lock into yours as the hand rises, fingers coming to rest on your forehead where the scar you used to have has long since faded, but where the memory of that birthday lies.

“Here,” Changbin whispers, fingers brushing against your skin. “It was here.”

It was here.

A scar disappeared from a place no one would know but him.

It was here.

A choked noise rips through your throat as you finally let yourself fall into strong arms that you had long since despaired of seeing ever again, let alone feeling them wrapped around your torso once more - you never thought you’d see him, you thought he was dead -

“I’m not dead,” Changbin whispers, and when something wet drips onto your shoulder you know he’s crying too. “I’m not dead, Y/N. I’m back. I came back for you.”

For how long you stand there, incoherent sobs stifling the air, you don’t know. But when the tears have finally faded to a trickle, when you finally let yourself push away only slightly with the uncertain knowledge that he won’t disappear once more, Changbin grips your hands gently, tightly, rough palms scratching over your skin.

“I came back for you,” he says again, the same smile you fell in love with spread across his lips. “Will you now come with me?”

You look at your joined hands, at his teary smile. Your eyes rake across his face, taking in everything that has changed and everything that has stayed the same. Finally your gaze settles in his, in the dark eyes that used to hold worlds of comfort.

In the dark eyes that still do.

It doesn’t take you long to make your choice.

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 heart for a reunited couple!!!!!!!)

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daceydeath · 1 month

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A Work Proposal Masterlist

Pairing: O8T x reader Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Content All parts of this piece are strictly 18+ and contain explicit material reader discretion is advised and the author will not be responsible should prior warnings be ignored.

You had been working with Stray Kids for a while now and after a long day at work turns into a very unexpected but intriguing proposal. Will this change your world or end your career.

Intro Part 1 (Chan x reader) Part 2 (Chan x reader x Changbin) Part 3 (Hyunjin x reader) Part 4 (Han x reader x Felix) Part 5 (Jeongin x reader) Part 6 (Seungmin x reader) Part 7 (Lee Know x reader) Interlude (Chan x reader) Part 8 (Felix x reader) Part 9 (Changbin x reader) Part 10 (Hyunjin x reader x Felix) Part 11 (Seungmin x reader x Lee Know) Part 12 (Changbin x reader x Han) Part 13 (Chan x reader) Part 14 (Han x reader) Part 15 (Changbin x reader x Felix) Part 16 (Jeongin x reader)

Taglist is now closed xx

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forlix · 7 months

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· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

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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jj-one · 1 month

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STRAY KIDS + POSSESSIVENESS ! 🩹 ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: dom!skz x sub!fem!reader, established relationship, husband!changbin bc why not ? genre/tags: smut, angst, fluff (tbh it's only changbin's part), jealousy, exhibitionism, voyeurism, lots of degradation, mentions of crying, marking, manhandling, bondage play, piv, unprotected s*x (do not try this at home kids), public s*x, rough s*x, fingering, nipple play, oral (f & m receiving), t*tty slapping, multiple orgasms, edging, choking, bulge kink, slight breeding kink… am not mentally ok for writing any of this words: 3.4k

**old repost from my deleted blog

BANG CHAN. His patience was a level of no other. The man just watched you flirt with his friend and didn’t mutter a single word. All the while you kept boasting about how good Changbin’s muscles looked and the movement of his biceps were leaving you in complete amusement.

Pissed off doesn’t begin to describe what he’s feeling right now. He clears his throat,

“Are we done y/n? I think it’s time we head home now.”

The tone of his voice was cold, icy like a winter storm.

The lump in your throat was stuck. You knew how much in deep shit you were for this and his silence was the main indicator.

You could feel his piercing eyes on you the whole time.

It wasn’t long before you’d end up in this position. Both arms were locked above your head by his strong hands. The tight grip he kept around your wrists was definitely going to leave some bruising.

“You’re such a dumb slut. Did all this just to get me like this huh?” His cock hitting your walls aggressively as you spasm and shake under him.

“All this to get me to fuck you the like the dumb little cockwhore you are?” He growled, “can Changbin fuck you like this?”

His pace was relentless. His cock stretching you open with each deep thrust. His harsh words cutting into you like a dagger. Your mind was blank, head full of Chan’s cock. You had to answer him though, or else he will stop.

“N-no Chan only y-yours… only you can fuck me like this!”

A smirk creeps up his face from your quavering voice. He leans forward, his lips brush over yours as if almost to kiss you but doesn’t.

“I own you y/n. Only I get to have to you, understood?”

All you feel is his cock slamming into you. The slapping sounds becoming a melody of a beat, your heart was racing a mile a minute.

“Understood.”

LEE KNOW. He hates when you act out in public. The way you tease him and get him riled up, knowing he can’t do anything about it. It gave you sense of power, you had the upper hand— for now.

You were wearing the shortest mini skirt possible, it barely covered your bum and you could feel a cool breeze slip through your crevices. You kept walking in front of him, swaying your little hips side to side, letting him watch you bend down to pick things up as he sneaks a peak under your skirt. The sight of the pink lace thong you wore was enough to make him grab you by the arm and yank you into a public restroom nearby.

Before you know it, you’re being devoured by your boyfriend. Sitting on the counter of the sink whilst he was below you, giving you a gaze that could snatch your soul. His digits sunk into your dripping cunt as he swipes his tongue across your slit. Your skirt was still on but pushed up slightly, your thong was also moved to the side.

“I can’t believe you’d go out like this and expect me not to control myself.” He rises up momentarily.

“You do this on purpose, knowing I don’t want other people looking at you.”

He laps up your juices and coats it with his face, scissoring you open with his fingers.

“Fuck… I wore this for you Minho— w-wanted to look pretty for you.” Your eyes were tightly shut, feeling the euphoria as you were close to your orgasm.

He abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, thrusting your hips in the air now, you whine for stimulation.

“Will you be a good girlfriend for me and cum on my tongue kitten? I want you to scream as loud for me as you can, I don’t care who hears it.” Minho was dead serious. He doesn’t care you both are in a public restroom and there’s people casually walking by. He wants everyone to know you are his.

You nod and agree to be on your best behavior for him. You know he will most likely reward you for this in the end.

“I promise, I’ll be a good girl Minho.”

Feeling your body heat surge as he inched closer to your core, pressing his tongue at your entrance. He tongue fucks you viciously while never breaking his eye contact with you.

Feeling yourself come undone from the surreal pleasure, all you want is to feel your release.

You thrash and moan as you cream on Minho’s tongue, your legs felt like jello when you climax. You let out multiple gasps for air, feeling as though you just ran a marathon.

Minho hasn’t left between your legs yet, his face still in a headlock. He wasn’t quite finished with you just yet.

“You can give me one more, right kitten?”

CHANGBIN. Being a newlywed couple felt like a fairytale dream come true. He felt incredibly lucky to have you as his wife and doesn’t stop reminding you how happy he is. He’d shower you with a beacon of compliments that would melt your heart each and every time.

You went on another vacation right after the honeymoon and it felt like paradise. That was up until a small incident occurred, it happened when you were at the pool with your husband. One of the pool goers at the resort couldn’t keep their eyes off you. You wore a sexy one piece that had cut-out details on the sides to show off your waist but you wore a sheer cover up over it.

Changbin noticed straight away the eyes that were glued to you, the eyes that were glued to his precious wife. He was livid. Almost causing a scene, he went up to the perverted man that was eye fucking you and gave him a piece of his mind. In utter disbelief of what was unfolding in front of you, you go up to Changbin to calm him down and get him to stop before he ends up actually doing something he’ll regret. His face burned crimson from anger but the sound of your voice brought him back to reality.

Things were much better in private now. Much better. Sitting on your husband’s lap in the jacuzzi bathtub felt so relaxing, his hands roamed your naked body as he placed chaste kisses all over you. He stopped at your neck to give it more attention, nibbling on a sensitive spot that made you sink right into his form. Moaning softly whilst his hands prance down to your back.

“I want to shield the rest of the world from you, only I get to gawk at my gorgeous wife.” Changbin says possessively, looking at you once he comes up from your neck.

You nod in agreement, “they can look but can’t touch!”

“No, they can’t even look, all of this is mine, mine, mine.” He plants a kiss to your cheek as his hand creeps down to your core. He prods your hole with a single digit, entering you with ease. You let out a soft moan as you part your lips slightly, bucking your hips forward. He pumps his finger into your wetness as he looks deeply into your eyes, nothing but burning desire in his pupils. He brings his thumb to your clit and rubs it in a steady motion, your swollen nub feeling overstimulated from his touch.

“This is just the beginning my love, I’m not done with you until the sun comes up.” He whispered in your ear as he drags his tongue against your earlobe. In just the jacuzzi alone, he’s made you cum several times from his fingers. Oh how those magical fingers always do wonders on you..

HYUNJIN. The room was pitch black, your vision completely impaired from the blindfold attached to your head. Your hands were bound to each other, behind your back being tied by a thick rope. You had nowhere to go and the room was pure silence, naked and touch starved, you whine for Hyunjin to do something but you were met with no answer. He was standing over you on the bed but you were unaware of any of your surroundings.

The man finally spoke, “This is what happens when you try and make daddy jealous.”

You can feel his hot breath on your neck, the sensation making you crave him even more.

Hyunjin was always the possessive type, was constantly in need of reassurance if he felt his ego was being bruised. This was situation was no different, he needed to remind you that he was the one who owned you.

He brought finger to your perked nipple, gently dragging it across to tease you a bit. A white-hot charge sent through your body as you finally felt his touch. Dripping in a puddle of your own slick from the dirty thoughts racing in your mind, he continues lightly tracing your hardened nipples; eliciting low moans from you.

Your senses were heightened from the way you weren’t able to see anything, any little touch from him making you squeal from shock.

“You like this don’t you?” He says in a condescending tone, he belittles you some more. “So pathetic, look at you. Can’t do anything but take it, so fucking helpless.”

Hyunjin loved seeing how weak you become under him, the power dynamic being completely imbalanced right now. All you could do was moan out for him, practically begging him to do more but you know he’s going to take his time with you.

“Gonna make you squirt all over this bed for me.” He says, “Won’t stop until I have you screaming and begging for mercy, which I will never give you.”

The smirk on his face was devilish, he was conjuring up the perfect plan to ruin you indefinitely.

“Hyunjin, please fuck me… please.” You push your thighs together to feel some friction but Hyunjin gets mad at this action instantly.

He brings a harsh slap to your left tit, making you jump up a bit but your body couldn’t move properly from being tied up. Your legs went back to it’s original position, spread open for him so he can get a glimpse of your dripping cunt.

“Don’t ever tell me what to do, I make the rules now.” He palms your breast and kneads it excessively.

“You are my property.”

HAN. If jealousy was a disease Han would be the first one to catch it. He really loves yet hates the fact that he has such a smoking hot girlfriend that everyone wants. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy dating you but the way some of these other guys would look at you was about to become his villain origin story.

You were so oblivious to anyone who attempted to flirt with you, you only had eyes for your man but it was hard to convince Han otherwise. The pizza delivery guy complimented how pretty you looked and when you handed him the money to pay for the food, you accidentally gave him a ten dollar bill instead of a twenty, he didn’t even care he just smiled and continued talking to you.

That’s when Han knew he had to butt in, he was listening from the couch and he knew he shouldn’t have let you be the one to answer the door. Quickly he comes up to you to wrap his arms behind you, keeping you in a tight hold as the pizza guy looks mortified now.

“You can leave now,” Han says to him in a harsh tone, “We have important business to take care of!”

Slamming the door in his face now, Han comes up from behind you to take the pizza box out of your hands to place it on the table. Soon after, a heavy make out session between you would ensue.

As your naked bodies entangled one another, you feel yourself cinching around his cock from each inch as he slides it in. Your breath instantly coming to a halt as the end of his cock crashed into your cervix. He moves with his ass up in the air as he buries his length deep inside you, the squelching sound of your wet pussy making him see stars.

“Fuck… so fucking tight for me.” Han says sounding pussydrunk off the way you feel around him.

You fall into a frenzy as he pumps his length into you harder, pounding into you like no tomorrow. The bulge of his cock could be seen inside you, moving in and out of you intensely. Grinding your hips to match his pace, you rub your clit to feel more stimulation.

“You’re so fucking hot my God…” He cooed, tiny beads of sweat now forming on the sides of his face. “Your pussy was made for me and me only…”

“Only I can make you feel this good.”

FELIX. He felt sick to his stomach whenever he saw someone else looking at you. The way people would look at you in public when he was with you made him feel beyond disrespected. This is exactly why he doesn’t bring you anywhere because his fragile little ego will be crushed as soon as another person laid their eyes on you. He couldn’t deal with it anymore, he just had to do something about it.

You were at a public park but the park was so big that it was easy to hide and go unseen behind some bushes.

Felix brought you to a secluded area and told you get on your back, you do as he says and he looks at you with the most evil grin on his face.

“I’m going to fuck you so dumb right here, right now.” Felix says in a raspy deep voice, “I will let everyone exactly know who’s bitch you are.”

You gulp once you feel his hands all over you, you wore a black slip dress which drove him absolutely mad.

“Gonna make you pay for getting me worked up like this.” You felt so small when he spoke like this to you, the sticky mess in your panties was only growing as you feel his hands go up your thigh.

“Too stunned to speak sweetheart?” He asks, giving you an alluring yet mischievous smile. You have no idea what this man has for you in store.

“N-no, I can speak-“

“Shut up.” He quickly cuts you off from saying more. “I’m the one talking right now, you sit back and take what I’m going to give you.”

You did exactly as you were told and lay back for him. He quickly unzips his pants and frees his cock from his boxers. You look at the red tip of his angry cock, the sight of his raging erection was enough to make you feel a tingling sensation in your heat. His cock would plunge into you nice and slow but once he bottoms out he’ll quickly pick up his pace, fucking into you menacingly. He brought a hand to your neck and squeezed the shaft of it tightly, you gasp for air as he choked you but it wasn’t unbearable. You close your eyes to the feeling, letting yourself be fully immersed into him. Each thrust he gave you felt like bliss as he roughly held onto your hip, fucking you like a complete maniac.

“Gonna dump all my cum into your slutty little body,” Felix continued,“you’re my fuck toy, only I get to use you.”

SEUNGMIN. Usually something like this would never get to him. However, today was different, very different. Seungmin almost went ballistic when he found out that some guy asked for your number while you were out shopping at the supermarket. He often goes everywhere with you but you were getting off work and went straight to the store to grab some things for dinner. That’s when it happened and you told Seungmin as soon as you got home. You thought he’d just laugh it off but he frowned, disproving of that guy’s actions.

“What a loser,” Seungmin says in an annoyed tone, “when they will learn to just leave you the hell alone?”

He wanted you all to himself, if he could lock you up forever and throw away the key, he probably would. Only letting you out when he tells you you can.

“They can try all they want Minnie but I know I belong to you at the end of the day.” You bring your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss him and he kisses you back passionately.

“Want you to say it for me again, who’s pussy does this belong to?” Seungmin was now relentlessly pumping two fingers in you.

“Y-yours Seungmin… yours!” You could barely get a coherent word out of your mouth.

“And who makes you feel the best?”

He wasn’t letting up on making sure you know that you fully belonged to him. “We can do this all day princess… I’m not going to stop until I’m satisfied.”

This was his fifth time edging you at this point, leaving you on the verge of an orgasm but would pull his fingers out once he notices your chest floating up. He’s being so evil to you right now, as if you it was your fault for what had happened in the supermarket.

“You, only y-you! You’re the best at making me feel so good!” You babble as he rapidly moves his fingers in and out of your gaping hole.

“That’s my good little girl, now keep taking my fingers and I’ll reward you soon okay?”

JEONGIN. “You’re such a filthy slut, you know that?” The motion of needy hips were bucking into you. Your head was kept in place, completely still, on your knees and on the verge of tears from your boyfriend’s words.

You knew why you were in this predicament right now. This was all your fault and you did it all for this exact reason.

You wanted to see Jeongin’s reaction to saying you think Felix was hot. You know he wouldn’t take that comment lightly since that was one of his best friends. You wanted to see how far you could test his limits.

“You wanna fuck my friends huh?” He grabs you by the hair and furrows his eyebrows to regain more focus onto you.

You couldn’t speak, all you could do was shake your head around him as he shoved his cock further down your throat.

“Can’t even talk with your mouth full of cock, what a dumb little whore you are.”

His cock hitting the back of your uvula, causing you to make a gagging noise. Streaks of saliva creep from the sides your mouth, the messy scenery underneath him was a heavenly sight indeed. You moan while sucking his cock, the vibrations making the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. He throws his head back and keeps a tight hold on your hair, gripping you with everything he had. He thrusts his hard length into you viciously, the gurgling noises you were making whilst he fucks your face sounds harmonic to him.

“Shit…think I’m gonna cum soon” he muttered, letting out a groan as he kept pushing your face into his cock. “Yeah… just like that fuck… that’s it.”

A stream of tears came running down your face as you continued. You can feel his veiny cock twitch against your tongue as you felt hot spurts of cum fill you up now. You swallow each and every drop and milk him clean like the good girl you were. Opening your mouth wide to show it was empty he grins viciously and taps his dick against your tongue.

“You’re the biggest fucking slut…” He pants heavily.

“My biggest slut.”

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chan4evurrr · 8 months

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skz texts | meeting the family

notes: i've been away for way too long but im back now!!! im still getting back in the groove so this isn't my fave text post i've ever done but i love the thought of meeting their families and how that dynamic would be. i have a few requests im working on but feel free to send me more i'm always down for your suggestions! xoxo gossip girli

WARNINGS: slight suggestiveness, some swearing, thats it i think but please message me if i need to put anything else!!

BANG CHAN

LEE MINHO

SEO CHANGBIN

HWANG HYUNJIN

HAN JISUNG

LEE FELIX

KIM SEUNGMIN

YANG JEONGIN

#skz fake texts #stray kids fake texts #skz texts #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids texts #skz au

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baby-yongbok · 5 months

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BFF SKZ!Fake Texts - You accidentally send them a spicy photo❤️

Genre: Smut with some chunks of fluff

✨️Masterlist✨️

Warnings: Felix is super sweet, Cursing, Seungmin goes straight into dom mode, Mentions of breaking traffic rules (I feel like ya'll know this but please be a safe driver. please)

Chan

Minho/ Lee Know

Changbin

Hyunjin

Han Jisung

Felix

Seungmin

I.N/ Jeongin

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 27 days

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Texting bf!skz "I'm going to eat you" 😋

I'm not sure what this is sometimes I just look at their sweet faces and go like aaahng mentally cause COME ON they look so ✨biteable✨

🖤hyung line🖤

🖤 maknae line 🖤

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soobnny · 8 months

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request. you falling asleep on skz’s chest and telling them you love them for the first time in your sleep

sorry it took me so long, anon! but here is the request u sent me

BANG CHAN

— it would be a little late in the night when you finally fall asleep, maybe around 11pm. it’s one of the rare days chan doesn’t allow himself to fall prisoner to another all-nighter (not that it ever bothered you, but chan’s been making effort in spending more time with you in the present instead of in his head)

— he definitely sleeps better with you, how could he not? with your head on his chest and your cheek a little mushed and your lips in a small pout and your ear to his heart. it’s perfect circumstances to sleep and your breathing is such a lullaby to him, and a reminder to ground himself in the present more to enjoy moments like these. you guys don’t get to cuddle often so it’s nice to take everything in when he can

— chan’s just on the verge of falling asleep when you say it and i think he wouldn’t be able to believe it first (talk about an instant alarm ?). he’d just blink down at you for a moment before the sweetest smile plasters on his face, the crinkled eyes until they almost disappear and lip biting type to stop himself from smiling too much

— his heart would just expand tenfold because you really are the person he sees himself with in the future and to hear those three words he’s almost told you a million times before leave your lips is just so reassuring and so beautiful to him; that you love him back, and he can’t wait to tell you in the morning

— when he’s finally processed it, he’d lean down to kiss you .. just every part of your face. but like, he’s so careful about it so you don’t wake up

— he falls asleep maybe half an hour later because all his life his mind has been running and running and running but with you in his arms, and those three words, he feels so safe that he allows his mind to rest. sometimes, it’s enough to just let his heart beat and love

❝ i love you. god, i love you too. i’ve been wanting to say it for so long now. ❞

LEE MINHO

— i think lee know’s def the type to know he’s in love first because it’s such a drastic difference to suddenly consider you in everything when he used to never do it before and he’s not oblivious to his feelings. like he’s the same but also so different ? little gestures of love would build up to his light bulb moment that he is so in love with you and he wants nothing more than to tell you but he doesn’t want to scare you off

— you stay over at his house when it happens. doing schoolwork? cramming for a paper? somewhere along those lines. you never notice the time when you’re with him and suddenly seconds turn into hours and it’s too late for you to commute home and lee know’s mom used their car so he can’t drive you home either. just proposes you stay over bc it’s not like you haven’t done it before

— you two always spend silence in comfort so he doesn’t know you’re asleep at first when you say those three words to him and the way you say it is so faint that he almost misses it. but he doesn’t. he hears it loud and clear

— his heart swells even more when he looks down to see your eyes closed and your mouth slightly parted and his response is just the fondest expression on his face. the most endearing smile and a finger brushing over your features because wow, this is the girl that snuck her way into his heart and unknowingly stole every part of him

— would brush your hair out of your face to see you properly before finally whispering that he loves you too. he’d say the three words the next morning.

— years later, he’d always brag he was the first to tell you that he loved you but you’d never know it was you. it’s a little secret he keeps to himself, and the moment is so intimate that it’s his only

❝ ah, (name). you’re all i’ve ever wanted, did you know? ❞

SEO CHANGBIN

— for changbin, i truly believe there is no moment of sudden realization. he’s well acquainted with love like i think he’s most in touch with that emotion. he feels so deeply and i think he learned most of that from his mother. he wouldn’t be afraid to embarrass himself in the name of love. in fact, he thinks it’s the greatest feeling on earth and it’s something you shouldn’t ever take for granted (i’m sorry, i’m a softie changbin enthusiast)

— everything is steady with him. loves you more day by day by day but he’s always known he’s been in love with you and nothing is ever overwhelming with him like it’s always so safe

— when you say it, he feels his heart beat 98383 times faster because what do you mean the person he’s so in love with loves him back ? like i feel like it just doesn’t cross his mind honestly. like he loves you and that’s that and he’s satisfied with loving you but suddenly his whole world just stops when he hears those words

— changbin would try to keep his position still though, even though he feels like jumping around and spinning you around in his arms but he just doesn’t want to shake you awake from your sleep

— spends the rest of the night thinking about you saying that you love him. there’s nothing more beautiful than the reciprocation of a feeling of love so great

❝ i love you, and that’s always been enough for me, but god does it feel so great to hear it from you. ❞

HWANG HYUNJIN

— he loves like in movies, in books, in art. despite being such a hopeless romantic though, everything is actually so new to him. it’s only with you that he experiences that shortness of breath, that jumble of words, that all-nighter because you can’t stop thinking about the person you love the most, and those damn butterflies

— even the first time you fall asleep on his chest, he freaks out. and he freaks out even after the 9183th time but who can blame him? he may look like such an expert, such a poet, such a man of love, but he’s nothing more than a boy who’s falling in love for the first time

— so, it is the 9184th time you’re asleep on his chest and he has a hand running through your hair when you mumble it in your sleep

— FREEZES. for maybe a good 5 mins? honestly it feels like forever because he really is frozen. and then, that music plays. the music when the love interest shows up on the screen in movies. it plays in his head and his heart is pouncing like crazy and it’s just such a moment to be in love

— pulls you closer when he finally recomposes himself and has the most lovesick smile on his face for maybe an hour before he allows himself to fall asleep because this is all he’s ever dreamed of

❝ you’re someone straight out of my dreams. ❞

HAN JISUNG

— to me, jisung feels a little reckless when he loves. but like, not in a bad way. it’s more like, he’s been careful his whole life and keeping on a guard because he values his silence and his comfort over everything else but god, when he loves? he jumps straight in. he jumps even without the guarantee of anyone catching him. when he loves, there is no doubt, no second guessing. he simply dives head first

— he’s falling again, falling and falling, it’s never ending. even as you fall asleep on his chest one afternoon after watching a movie together

— he JERKS the moment he hears you say it like actually just jerks from his place and accidentally wakes you up from your slumber

— you freak when you wake up thinking that something must’ve happened because he’s staring at you with wide eyes but at the same time, he’s also apologizing for accidentally waking you up. you’re just in the process of asking him about it when he cuts you off by kissing you

— when you kiss him back, there is nothing in his head but “wow, so this must be the feeling of being caught” because he’s finally landed safely in your arms after all that falling

— don’t be mistaken though, he’d fall over and over again because the feeling of having you catch him is so addicting

❝ (name), is this real? ❞

LEE FELIX

— oh felix, the sweetest boy who falls in love in the sweetest way. definitely is the type to see colors brighter and hear music louder and just have all his feelings amplify because of you. stars come together when you look at him and he feels himself revolving around you like he’s just !!! there is no explaining how deep this boy loves. it’ll be like fireworks, like earthquakes, like thunderstorms but it’ll also feel like breathing and the quiet patter of rain. you get every variant of love with him because he’s so adamant on showing you every part of him

— you two cuddle up to each other all the time. he loves skinship, he loves physical touch, he loves holding you and being held and kissing you and hugging you and everything that makes it feel like you’re close to him so he doesn’t question when you fall asleep on his chest

— he’s on his phone, probably taking a picture or video of you when you suddenly say it. there’s just instant tears in his eyes the moment the words leave your mouth. he cries because he’s overwhelmed that you feel the same way about him and he’s scolding himself for being so dramatic over it but also he seriously cannot stop crying like what have you done to him?

— smiles and cries and laughs and leans down to kiss your head over and over and over and you can only ask why his eyes are so red and puffed when you wake up and he wastes no time to tell you that he loves you. drops it immediately. he’s been waiting forever to say it anyway (actually, he’s said it quite a few times but only when he thinks you can’t hear)

— won’t stop saying it anymore like every hour is a good opportunity to tell you that he loves you

❝ i can’t get over how beautiful it is to love and it’s all thanks to you. ❞

KIM SEUNGMIN

— the peak best friends to lovers story. seungmin isn’t the type to throw the feeling of love around. he isn’t the type to fall in love quickly either. he falls in love in moments you spend as friends, but it also kind of takes him such a long time to admit it because he’s always rejected the idea of romance and the gentle emotions that come with it. he’s so used to teasing and tough love that he suddenly can’t function properly when he realizes he’s growing softer because of you

— seungmin holds out from saying ‘i love you’, mostly because it’s hard to rid the stubbornness he’s carried all his life, but don’t get me wrong. there are so many times when he’s almost said it but stopped himself before he could. maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to startle you either. it’s a scary feeling after all, and being his best friend, you know about all his flaws. how could you choose to love him despite it all?

— even so, he is still powerless to love. no one can ever go above the feeling no matter how hard he tries. when you say it in your sleep, he finally lets go of whatever he’s been holding on for so long. he’s ready to willingly admit he’s in love with you and has been for such a long time

— he runs a hand through your hair, just thinking of how comforting it is to be with you, of how you make him smile without even having to be there with him. just the thought of you makes him so happy and it’s infuriating because why does losing to love feel so much like winning instead? is it because it’s you he’s falling in love with?

— would ask you if you’re sure because he’s someone that values sureness, honesty, and just Purpose. he loves on purpose and he wants to make sure you love him by your own choice too. he’s always chosen to take every step closer to you all his life

❝ do you really mean that? please mean it. ❞

YANG JEONGIN

— time always slows when you’re with him. he also gives me romance between friends because like seungmin, he’s not the type to take love lightly. he only ever says the three words in important moments. he never wants to just throw those words around because romance is so important to him, and he’s always been the one to seek for it because it’s so beautiful

— when he meets you, he just thinks, so this is what love is. he understands now why people tell stories about it, why it’s subject to so many songs. he understands when he looks in your eyes

— it’s an afternoon of teasing where your eyes meet and you just double in laughter because whatever the hell you’re talking about is so funny to only the two of you. the boys will never understand the language you’ve crafted for yourselves

— you fall asleep after having played games and ran around and teased each other all afternoon and it’s in his arms while the two of you are watching a movie

— when you say it, he falls silent. he closes his eyes and crosses his fingers and prays he isn’t just dreaming this up, might pinch himself even because it’s just so unreal to him that you love him like he might be the Foolish silly type but when he loves, he really does give it his all

— you wake up at one of the louder scenes of the movies and you’re like ??? why is jeongin staring at you like that so you’re like stop staring .. but he kind of just grins really LOVESICK and you’re like oh my god what is happening. he’s looking at you different and his eyes are softer

— with a yank of your shirt, he kisses you and mumbles how much he loves you against your lips

❝ i love you. and i will choose to love you everytime. ❞

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