#SKZ SCENARIOS

[skzfairyyydreamz]

Texting bf!Skz during NNN!

Genre: Smau, text post, Humor/Crack,

Pairing: Bf!Skz x Fem!Reader, Secret relationship (Minho), Reader is a choreographer for JYPE (Minho)

Warnings: cussing (as always) , suggestive themes !!!!MDNI!!!!! 18+

A/n: I've been seeing alot of writters take their twist on no nut november and i wanted to give it a go! I'm still working on chapter 7 of REPLACED so i threw this quick post together in the mean time!

Hyung line | Maknae line

Chan

Minho

Changbin

Hyunjin

Taglist: @hanniemylovelyquokka -@milknhoneyracha @tinyelfperson @jiisungllvr @imastraykidsfan@simpracha @turtledove824  @laylasbunbunny  @armystay89  @eclipsemina @4ln-stay8@aalexyuuuhm @scribblesnsketches05 @amarecerasus @euphoric-univers @stellasays45 @night-storm7 @vixensss @blossomlilly @jc003��@hanniesbubuwife @beccaskz@soyeonbean @kawaiijellyfishtimetravelr @chuuyaobsessed @estella-novella @gabriellamarie@livelaughloveskzmwah @thatshroomiegirl @flowerbunnii @whoa-jo @babygirlskz98@leftenemydestiny @dazzlingjade @hyuneyeon @nightmarenyxx @slayyparkjimin

(plz lmk if you would like to be removed or added)

[astralis-ortus]

when it's less-than-ideal

✱ boyfriend!bc x gn!reader

— you can't judge a relationship only based on its good days.

w.count → 0.9k genre → comfort, a dash of comedy at the end warning → chan referred to as chris, babe, my love; reader referred to as baby and babe; kind of sad but it ends well♡ a.n → basically i'm projecting what kind of relationship-slash-communication style i want in a relationship, so... yeah. think i'll be on my own for quite a while, lol. anyways! i also have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop, do check it out♡ ⋆ see masterlist

chris has been acting weird lately, and you don't know why.

you're usually not one to mind—given the way his schedules these days barely even spare the time for him to rest, you understand that your boyfriend is bound to be less like his usual self. you've sat down with chris to talk about it early in your relationship—the expectations, the ideal and less-than-ideal situations, the how-tos, and 4 years in, everything has all worked out just fine.

lately, however,

chris has been acting really strange.

"babe, i'm home," chris' voice softly echoed through the apartment, followed by the rustling of what you could assume is the layer of jacket and hoodie you got him to wear to battle the dropping temperatures of november seoul. "where are you?"

"kitchen!" you chirped, swiftly rinsing off the pots and pans you've been battling against for the past 10 minutes, "i'm still washing the dishes. are you hungry? i made some curry for dinner, it's in the—babe? are you okay?"

the cheeriness in your voice immediately turned into worry when you felt chris' arms around your waist, holding you tight as he allows himself to melt onto you, face buried in the crook of your neck.

after all the years of being at the receiving end of chris' special mix of physical affection, you've naturally learned to differentiate the meaning in your boyfriend's touches—is he just being affectionate? or is he trying to tease you? is he jealous of the interaction you had? or did he sense something and is trying to keep you safe? you have always been able to read chris just from the way his skin grazes upon yours, and so far you've barely ever been wrong,

but god, you sincerely hope you're hitting far from the mark this time.

"hey," you softly called out upon the absence of chris' response, quickly disregarding the dishes to rinse your soapy hands before turning to face chris' tired features, "is everything alright, my love?"

instead of an answer, chris simply leaned onto your touch as soon as your hands came to cradle his cheeks—ones freezing from the cold weather he just escaped moments ago, and only then, you realized just how long it has been since you've properly seen your boyfriend.

how come you haven't noticed the dark, looming shadow in his eyes? or the way his skin had lost its usual glow and instead grew dry with the season? how come you didn't see the way the corner of his lips had grown heavier, or the way his curls you oh-so adored had adopted its long forgotten frizz?

how come it took you so long to properly see chris?

"i'm sorry, baby," running the pads of your thumbs across chris' cheeks, you forced yourself to swallow the lump of guilt lodged in your throat, "i just realized i've been too inattentive to you, and i'm sorry. have you been wanting to talk it out with me?"

and only then, you saw the faint glimmer you fell in love with, peeking between the grey clouds in chris' eyes.

"yeah," despite the hoarseness in his voice, you could hear the warmth returning in the words chris uttered as he nodded, "but i just… i didn't know how to bring it up since i knew you've been dealing with your own stuff as well."

chris quietly exhaled, soft breath grazing your lips when he leaned his forehead onto yours and let his eyes fluttered close, allowing his walls of self-protection to finally crumble as he speaks, "i'm sorry, baby. it was never my intention to let this fester for this long or to make you feel bad in any way. i just didn't know how. i promise."

you know you're not perfect, and neither is chris—but you also know chris has always made it his life mission to make sure you're the happiest you've ever been when you're with him. one honest mistake will never erase the efforts and sacrifice chris has ever made for you, and you'll never let that happen.

"i know, baby," you hummed, lightly dragging the tips of your nails against his scalp when your fingers found the dark locks of his hair, "i don't blame you. i shouldn't have assumed about your condition and let it slip too. i won't let it happen again, i promise."

and you can feel the way chris' shoulder relax at the words you utter,

because just like him, he knows you'll do everything in your power to keep every single one of your promises.

"thank you, baby," chris pulled you into his embrace, completely engulfing you in his warmth while he pressed his lips on your forehead. "i promise i'll try to be better at this too, and thank you for being patient with me. i love you."

it didn't matter how many times have you heard chris whisper those three words in your ears, or how many times have he held you like you're everything that ever mattered to him,

chris will always make your soul feel the most alive it has ever been.

"i love you too, baby," you finally allowed yourself to smile as your arms found their way around your boyfriend's waist, holding him close as you listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat—

"…babe?"

"…yeah," chris sheepishly nodded while rubbing his stomach, "i haven't had lunch too, actually…"

a protest involuntarily slip past your lips along with the forming lines of frown between your eyebrows, perfectly portraying your disapproval of chris' course of action.

"go sit down, i'll fix your plate for you," shaking your head, you turned towards the pot of warm curry on the stovetop in faux disappointment before you continued,

"and we'll talk about whatever's been stressing my christopher out, okay?"

oh, you can definitely confirm,

the sound of chris' soft chuckle will never fail to bring a smile to your face.

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑻𝒘𝒐 𝑰𝒔 𝑩𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑶𝒏𝒆*

Pairing: Snake!Hybrid Hyunjin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Snakes! Mentions of Blood/Stitches, Fork/Split tongue, Oral(F), Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Biting, Two Dicks (kinda double P), Sorry for any mistakes or Missing warnings!

A/N: My animal knowledge really shows here😂

Series Master List

-🖤

It was rare to see snake hybrids. A lot of them hid in fear of how others treated them. Humans were mean creatures, especially to things they fear. They knew that all too well, so seeing a snake hybrid brought into your adoption center was strange. His scales were flakey, eyes stuck with shed. You could tell whoever had him didn’t treat him well.

No one wanted to be near him most of your colleagues staying away some even squealing. However you weren’t scared, did you like snakes? Not particularly, but you knew he needed help. When you approached him in the little container he was in he hissed. You quickly shushed him picking him up to take him to the sink area. You had run him a small bath, just some water for him to soak in. “I can’t believe you’re touching that thing” someone streaked at your side.

“It deserves the same amount of love and compassion as any others here” you retort looking down at him. You cleaned him up helping the stuck shed off before putting him back with a heating lamp.

“Y/n will you take it home?” Your manager had asked.

“Why don’t you want it here?” You glared.

“Listen, most of us don’t like them. He’s probably not gonna get adopted and we also aren’t equipped to take care of him properly. You at least seem to know what you’re doing.” They rambled.

You looked back down at the snake who was now curled up by your hand. “Fine, I’ll take it home, however.” You said with a small pause. “He’s mine as soon as we leave and I want the next few days off to take care of him and help him settle.” You stated.

“Of course-“ your manager started to say before you interrupted him.

“Paid” you said sternly.

With a sigh knowing he wasn’t gonna win he agreed just wanting that thing out of the building.

You put him in your spare room, getting the necessary stuff for his set up. You watched as he explored smiling to yourself. “Listen, I know you understand me. So whenever if ever you wanna become human. This room is yours. You have free roam where ever. You’ll be safe here, and taken care of” you kept talking.

He laid under the heating lamp listening carefully. If he could laugh he would. He’s heard that before. Knowing damn well his last owner started off with “love” but quickly forgot about him. He never got comfortable enough to turn so what made you think he would here he wondered.

As days went on you grew fonder of him, seeing some of his goofy personality shine through. His scales looked a lot healthier, a beautiful dark shade with glints of goldish color in them. They matched his beautiful piercing gold eyes. He hissed at you a lot however never making any attempt at striking. After shifts at work you’d pick him up out of his tank, laying him on the couch as you watched tv. It was one of these nights that it changed.

You had done your normal taking him out laying him on the couch with a heating pad beside if he got to cold. He stayed there as you cooked dinner only to be startled from his sleep by a crashing sound. He could smell blood in the air his fork tongue flickering at the scent. “Fuck!” He heard you yell from the kitchen with a bit of rustling. He was scared something had happened that someone broke in. In his panic turning ‘human’. He ran into the kitchen only to see you on the floor holding your hand that was gushing blood.

“What the hell happened?” He said making you jump. He looked at you realizing he was ‘human’.

“You turned?” You said almost excitedly.

He couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh “that shouldn’t be the focus right now, you’re literally bleeding” he said before grabbing a clean towel to wrap it around your hand.

You watched him looking over his features. He had a sharp jawline, slim but muscular physique, those gold eyes even prettier. When he started talking your eyes found themselves on his pillowy lips. You could see the small peak of fangs and to your surprise his tongue was split. You were just in awe taking him in not even realizing he was talking to you. Not until he lifted your head with his warm hand. “Hello? Are you listening? You probably need stitches” he said looking at you were furrowed brows.

You only nodded eyes still scanning over him. You grabbed your phone off the counter with your other hand calling your neighbor. He came over taking you to the hospital and you did in deed need stitches.

Your snake hybrid cleaned up the mess. He finished making the dinner you were working on before it happened and sat there. Waiting. Agonizingly waiting. When you came through the door he smiled sighing in relief. “Hey! Thanks for cleaning and- wait you finished dinner?” You said surprised.

“Yeah, how’s the hands?” He said.

“Ah well it’s not bleeding anymore” you said with a laugh.

“I can’t believe you cut yourself that deep, what were you doing? Dancing with the knife?” He teased.

“No this was all just a scheme to see if you’d come to my rescue” you teased back making him roll his eyes. “Since I can properly ask you now though, what’s your name?” You asked siting down at the counter.

“Hyunjin.” He said.

“Good now I can stop calling you snakey” you said laughing.

After that moment Hyunjin didn’t turn back for the most part. Sometimes you’d fined him curled up under his heating lamp, other times he’d be curled up on the couch under lots of blankets. Your routine continued coming home, cooking, sitting on the couch with him just watching tv. Now though, he talked back. He got into the habit of curling up against you when you came home. Your body’s heat always feeling so nice to him.

You came home today more exhausted than normal though. A fight braking out between some hybrids at work. You being in the middle of it when it happened. Today honestly wasn’t as normal as you thought. All the hybrids were acting weird around you. A lot more possessive and clingy. When you walked through the door thinking about it more you realized hyunjin hadn’t came out from his tank.

“Hyune, are you ok?” You asked leaning down over the tank. When he didn’t budge you picked him up like normal his skin scales feeling warm. He hissed at you baring his fangs. “Are you mad at me?” You said softly, making him stop. He slithered up your arm before slithering down your leg. He made his way to the bed before turning back to his human like form.

There was a moment of silence before he spoke. “I’m not mad at you. Ugh” he groaned. “Do you realize you’re ovulating?” He said with a loud groan.

“Am I? Is that why everyone’s been so weird today?” You questioned.

“Probably- god I don’t know how you went to work with all of them. You’re supposed to be mine” he said the end of his sentence trialing off.

“I am yours” you said quickly with out realizing your own words impact.

“Yeah?” He said looking up at you. Those gold eyes had a hint of something in them. “Then let me make you mine.” He said before grabbing your arm pulling you to him.

He didn’t give you anytime to protest before kissing you, his lips warm softer than you’d imagine. His kiss was hungry tongue quickly making its way into your mouth. His hands came down pulling your bottoms down quickly in one swift motion. He was moving so fast, his motions only driven by need. The need to have you all his, a primal need. His sharp fangs grazed your bottom lip as he moved down your neck. It was almost like he was a little vampire with those fangs. He kissed down your body, pulling your thighs up to him.

He licked his lips looking at your dripping cunt “she’s calling me” he said with a smirk before diving into your core. His fork tongue feeling way different from anything you’d ever had before. Both the muscles moving on their own as they lapped at your folds. His fingers came up to graze against your slick before pushing them into you. He curled them hitting a sensitive spot. The moan you let out only drove him to keep doing it. To hear it again and again. Your hands found their way to his long soft locks.

“Fuck Hyune” you moaned out.

“Feel good? Gonna cum on my tongue?” He said with a devilish smile.

You nodded making that smile only grow. He picked up his speed fingers finding another even more sensitive spot. With his pace and tongue lapping at your clit your high crashed quickly over you. Walls tightening around his fingers. He licked a long strip up eyes staining into yours. He wanted to keep going, wanted to keep tasting you all over him but he needed to be inside you. Fuck your smell alone was gonna make him nut in his pants.

He stood up pulling down his pants revealing his two curvy cocks. With shock, eyes widen you blurted out “you have two?!”

He couldn’t help but laugh “yeah, you didn’t know? Thought you read up on me” he said. He took your hand wrapping it around the bigger one “this one’s the main one, and th- this one” he stuttered as your hand grazed the smaller one “this one is super sensitive like your clit” he said.

You nodded staring intently at his cocks. He leaned you back pressing his body against your kissing you deeply. He slowly pushed himself into you, the smaller cock rubbing against your clit. He let out a hiss of pleasure before his mind went. He started pounding into you mercilessly. His smacking against yours. The sounds of moans and skin smacking filling the air with the scent of sex. He had his head buried in the crook of your neck his long fangs grazing so gently at it. “I shouldn’t even let you leave smelling this good, all of them got their gross scent on you.” He hissed. “I’m gonna make sure they know you’re taken.”

His thrusts continued fast before he gripped at your legs pressing them against your chest before drilling into you. The new angel letting him hit at your cervix. “Hyunjin!” You screamed hands coming up to touch his chest. He pulled out fully before pushing hard back into you however he felt bigger. You felt more pressure in your core like somehow his cock grew a size. The pornagraphic sound he let out made your eyes snap open looking down you realized why he felt bigger. His smaller cock has slipped in, your cunt sucking both of them so greedily.

“Sh-shit I- I- fuck!” His head rolled back not being able to even speak at the pleasure. The warmth overtaking his smaller cock making it twitch in over stimulation. He snapped his hips back one more time both cocks pushing deep inside of you before you were Cumming. Cumming harder than you have ever before. His body shook at the feeling. Your walls tightening more and more around him. He gripped at your hips harshly digging his nails into you. He cried out as his release finally spilled out painting your walls white.

When you stared to squirm a bit trying to adjust yourself, the movement pushing him deeper into you making him whimper. “D-don’t move” he pleaded. You realized his smaller cock was still hard. You smirked up at him before moving away only to push back on him. He gasped almost like the wind was knocked out of him. His hands tried to stop your movement but one more push back his smaller cock was cumming.

He had the most intense orgasm, his body shook body falling to the side of you. He tried regaining his breath “I’ve- I’ve never- with my smaller” his words coming out choppy but you knew what he meant.

You pushed some of his hair back kissing him softly. “M’sorry for- I should have asked” he said still out of breath.

“It’s ok hyune honestly after today kinda needed it” you said with a smile.

“Gl-glad I could help.” He said nuzzling his head into your neck. His breathing was still heavy as you stroked his back.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @jehhskz @babigriin @kkamismom12 @jeonginsleftcheek

[justwonder113]

Literally made me giggle

Just what I needed after a hard day❤️❤️❤️

I Hate You. All Of You.

Series of messages based on this ask right here!! I hope you like it, girlypop <3

Pairing: Bang Chan x Fem!Reader (mentions of ot8)

(POC request technically but I write all of my fics with Black characters and just don’t list it unless specific topics are mentioned lol. Sorry if that’s offensive somehow??? Idk if it is)

Warnings: cursing, mentions of cheating *SFW*

A sneaky picture brings your relationship and trust crashing down and he refuses to let it all go over a stupid misunderstanding….

**Find my Masterlist here**

Join me for Happy Hour. Request are open!!

Taglist: @velvetmoonlight @night-storm7 @byeon-bae @jeonginsleftcheek @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightcandy00 @iovecb97 @forever-changing-bias @paborachaslvt @wormieieie @rebecca-johnson-28 @chuuyaobsessed @skzfairyyydreamz @sillyhal @mimihwang248 @raehawthorne @miraculous-disaster @straykidscoded @ladybeautiful18 @143il0v3you @nightmarenyxx @do-you-remember-summer-127 @aalexyuuuhm @minhosprettywife @ot8xbangchansgirlsblog @amarecerasus @my-neurodivergent-world @rhonnie23 @deadpool15 @velvetmoonlght

Lmk if you’d like to be added or removed <3

Minors will not be added to the tag list

[strayflowersstarsandlove]

dad!skz texts with their teenagers children📱💌

as kindly suggested by @pixie0627 (i hope you're okay with me tagging you!) this was a fun twist i kinda loved it 🥰 also yes i initially intended for all the chats to be set on dark mode but then forgot halfway through so now they're mixed sorry 💀

Ps. since not everyone might recognize the names and details for the chats : they are in age order as per usual, they follow the boys' hyung line and maknae line! dad!skz as dads of teenagers might help as an introduction

✨more dad!skz

✨main masterlist

✨taglist @turtledove824 @milf-ivy @minluvly @nervousbasementtimemachine @m1lfl0v3r4l1fe @atiana1996@dreamerwasfound @staydoida1 @chlodavids @ivyreadsstuff @sapphirewaves @hannahhhhs-things @skzwife

🖤hyung line🖤

🖤maknae line🖤

[inkandtension]

Tie That Binds.

Minho adjusted his tie for the third time, frowning at his reflection in the mirror. Weddings were supposed to be joyous occasions, weren’t they? Celebrations of love, laughter, and promises of forever? Yet, here he was, standing in an impeccably tailored suit, about to marry a woman he barely knew, feeling anything but joyous. His reflection stared back at him, the crease between his brows deepening with every second. The tie felt like a noose.

“Stop sulking, hyung,” came Changbin’s teasing voice from the doorway. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “You look good. A real scholarly heartthrob.”

Minho shot him a glare that would have silenced most people. Changbin, however, was immune. “I’m not sulking,” Minho muttered under his breath, though even he didn’t believe the words. His fingers tugged at the tie again.

“You’re brooding, then,” Changbin replied cheerfully. “Brooding scholar. It’s a vibe.”

Minho sighed, the sound heavy with resignation. His mind wasn’t in the room; it was too busy turning over the absurdity of his situation. Years spent lecturing on logic, dissecting literature, and championing the idea of individual agency had somehow led him to this moment—a meticulously arranged marriage, orchestrated by his mother and some aunt whose face he couldn’t even remember.

“Can’t back out now,” Changbin added, pushing off the doorframe with a grin. “Unless you want to send all the guests home and deal with your mother’s wrath. And trust me, hyung, I’ll be the first to sell popcorn and watch that drama unfold.”

Minho shot him a flat look but said nothing. Changbin wasn’t wrong. Backing out wasn’t an option, not when the woman he was about to marry came with glowing recommendations. A surgeon, his mother had informed him with a delighted clap of her hands. Accomplished, brilliant, kind, and apparently drop-dead gorgeous. The perfect daughter-in-law material, in other words. His family had done everything short of hanging her résumé on the wall like a trophy.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered under his breath, grabbing his blazer. As he shrugged it on, he couldn’t help but feel like he was stepping into a role he hadn’t auditioned for—a leading man in a play where the script had been written long before he entered the stage.

Y/N’s palms were sweating, and no amount of discreetly dabbing them with the edge of her dress seemed to help. She stood at the altar, her heart pounding in her chest, as the murmur of guests filled the room. Her eyes flitted to the door, waiting for Minho to appear.

For the past week, her life had been a whirlwind of surgeries, late-night meetings with wedding planners, and answering endless texts from her mother. It felt surreal, like she’d been thrown into someone else’s dream wedding—one she hadn’t exactly volunteered for.

“Why am I doing this?” she whispered to her best friend, who stood beside her in a pastel bridesmaid dress, looking far too amused for Y/N’s liking.

“Because your parents threatened to disown you if you didn’t at least try,” her friend whispered back with a barely-contained laugh.

Y/N rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. It was true. Despite all her achievements, she was still that shy little girl seeking her family’s approval. Being a world-class surgeon hadn’t changed that. The wedding might have been their idea, but here she was, going through with it because walking away felt too much like failure.

Her thoughts scattered like confetti the moment the doors opened. Minho stepped in, and everything else seemed to fade into the background. He was tall, lean, and devastatingly handsome. His black hair was styled to perfection, framing his sharp features. His suit hugged him like it had been crafted by someone who understood the definition of precision, and the air of quiet confidence he exuded was enough to make her breath hitch.

Her best friend let out a low whistle, leaning closer. “Okay, I take it back. If you don’t marry him, I might.”

“Shut up,” Y/N hissed.

Married life was... odd, to say the least.

Minho spent his days teaching university students, delving into the intricacies of Shakespeare and Kafka. Y/N spent hers in a hospital, saving lives and dealing with emergencies that left her too drained to care about trivial things like cooking or cleaning.

They had an unspoken routine:

Y/N would come home late, exhausted, and Minho would have dinner waiting for her.

Minho would stay up grading papers while she crashed on the couch, sometimes falling asleep mid-sentence while recounting her day.

They’d exchange polite “good mornings” and “have a nice days,” but deeper conversations were rare.

It wasn’t awkward, per se—just... unfamiliar.

Over the weeks that followed, something shifted.

Minho started texting her during the day, little things like, Don’t skip lunch, or Did you sleep last night?

Y/N found herself bringing home snacks for him, claiming she’d picked them up on a whim, though she’d actually spent way too much time in the store debating which ones he’d like.

They started watching movies together on weekends, bickering over genres. Minho preferred psychological dramas; Y/N loved rom-coms.

“You seriously think this is funny?” Minho groaned one night, watching the lead actor trip over a series of increasingly ridiculous obstacles.

“It’s hilarious,” Y/N shot back, laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.

Minho rolled his eyes but didn’t miss the way her laugh made his chest feel warm.

…

“You know,” Minho said, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, “I didn’t think married life would mean sharing my coffee stash with someone who performs literal surgeries before I even wake up.”

You glanced up from the stove, where you were stirring scrambled eggs for the both of you. "I didn’t think it’d mean coming home to someone who alphabetizes their bookshelf and gets irrationally angry when one book is out of place.”

“Touch my books again, and it’ll be war."

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Good morning to you too, husband.”

The word still felt foreign. You’d been married for three months now, after a whirlwind of family introductions and a mutual agreement that, while neither of you believed in love at first sight, you could give companionship a chance. He was a literature professor, calm and composed with a sharp wit, and you were a surgeon, thriving on adrenaline and precision. Two opposites in every sense of the word, now sharing the same roof and calling it home.

“Don’t burn the eggs,” Minho teased as he set the table, placing his usual cup of black coffee at your spot.

“They’re perfect, thank you very much,” you replied, sliding the pan off the burner. “Unlike someone’s last attempt at cooking pasta.”

Minho feigned offense. “Excuse me, my pasta was avant-garde.”

“It was burnt.”

The morning ritual of trading barbs had quickly become your favorite part of this arrangement. Despite the awkwardness of the early days, you’d found a rhythm. You respected each other’s space, cheered each other on, and occasionally stole moments like this—warm and light, like the eggs you plated and brought to the table.

Minho sipped his coffee, glancing at you. “Long shift today?”

“Not too bad. Just six hours,” you said. “You?”

“Grading papers,” he said with a grimace. “Seventy essays on whether The Great Gatsby is a love story or a cautionary tale.”

“Ah, the joys of shaping young minds,” you teased.

Minho shook his head, but his smirk softened. He looked at you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“At what? Mocking you?”

“That too,” he admitted, “but I meant… this. Us.”

You froze, caught off guard. He wasn’t usually this candid. “I guess we’re both trying,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm.

“I’d say we’re succeeding,” Minho said, reaching out to steal a bite of your eggs with his fork. “Even if you do insist on putting ketchup on your eggs, like a heathen.”

“Hey!” you laughed, swatting his hand away.

The truth was, Minho had a knack for sneaking past your defenses. Whether it was his quiet attentiveness when you came home exhausted or the way he made sure to send you texts during your long shifts (“Don’t forget to eat. And drink water. And sleep. I’m grading your habits, 2/10 so far”), he was making it harder not to fall for him.

As you cleaned up the dishes together, Minho cleared his throat. “By the way, my department’s hosting a dinner next week. Spouses are invited.”

“Oh,” you said, your heart skipping a beat. “Am I—?”

“You’re coming,” he interrupted, looking at you like it wasn’t even a question. “I need someone to laugh at my jokes when my colleagues inevitably talk about Chaucer.”

You snorted. “You’re assuming your jokes will be funny.”

He leaned closer, his voice low. “I don’t need them to be funny. I just need you there.”

Your breath caught, but Minho had already turned away, heading to his study. “Have a good day at work, Dr. Ketchup.”

“Have fun with Gatsby, Professor Burnt Pasta,” you called after him, hiding your grin.

You stood in the kitchen for a moment, fingers brushing the counter where his hand had been seconds ago. Maybe this marriage wasn’t just about making it work. Maybe, just maybe, it could be something more.

(You couldn’t make it to the party, an emergency surgery happened, you apologised though, his colleagues were a bit too sad when you didn’t make it)

It was supposed to be a peaceful Sunday morning for Minho—his one precious day to lounge in sweatpants, sip coffee, and enjoy the rare luxury of a slow, uneventful routine. He had even entertained the idea of making you breakfast before you left for work, something simple yet thoughtful. But fate, as always, had other plans.

A sharp knock on the door disrupted his rare moment of domestic bliss. With a heavy sigh, he dragged himself away from the stove, glancing warily at the pan on low heat. As he shuffled to the door, half-asleep, he wondered who could possibly be bothering him on his sacred day off.

The door creaked open, revealing Felix, one of his students, standing there in all his youthful glory. A textbook was tucked under his arm, his expression bright and hopeful.

“Professor Lee!” Felix greeted, his tone unnaturally chipper for a Sunday.

Minho blinked slowly, still processing the intrusion. “Felix? What are you doing here?”

“You said you’d help with my essay on Sunday,” Felix reminded him, his tone tentative but insistent.

Minho racked his brain, piecing together fragmented memories from office hours. “Right…” he muttered, groaning internally. He vaguely remembered agreeing to it but hadn’t expected Felix, the popular, gossip-loving, poster-child of charm, to actually follow through. “Yeah, come in.”

As Felix stepped inside, his eyes scanned the space with open curiosity. It was his first time seeing his professor’s home, and it wasn’t what he expected. The cozy, lived-in atmosphere seemed at odds with Minho’s perpetually serious demeanor in class. His attention was quickly snagged by a pair of stylish, feminine glasses sitting on the coffee table. Girlfriend? Felix wondered, tilting his head.

Before he could dwell on the thought, the distinct sound of heels clicking against the floor made him freeze. A moment later, you emerged from the hallway, dressed sharply for work. Felix’s eyebrows shot up, his thoughts immediately scrambling for an explanation. You blinked, just as surprised to see someone new in the living room. “Oh,” you said, your tone polite but slightly off-guard. “Hi.”

Felix, now officially overwhelmed, managed to blurt out, “Hello”, he said, before his gaze flickered back to the coffee table, then to you, as he didn’t know how to address you.

No way, he thought, it’s the doctor who came on news for saving a K-pop idol, from almost death.

“Minho!” you called, turning your head toward the kitchen. “Is this one of your students?”

Felix, his curiosity reaching critical levels, edged closer to the source of your voice. Peeking into the kitchen, he found Minho by the stove, a pan in hand. Smoke curled lazily upward, and the sharp scent of burning food filled the air.

“Minho,” you said, stepping into the kitchen with an incredulous laugh, “are you burning food again?”

Minho startled, nearly dropping the pan. “I’m not burning it! I’m… enhancing the flavor,” he argued, his tone defensive.

“Enhancing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Minho, cooking is about creating something edible, not staging a kitchen fire. It’s amazing how often you mix those two up.”

“I was trying to make you something before you left for the hospital,” he muttered, clearly embarrassed but reluctant to admit defeat.

Your playful smile softened at his admission. Gently, you reached over to turn off the stove. “That’s sweet, but maybe stick to teaching literature instead of culinary experiments.”

Felix, lurking just out of sight, stared wide-eyed as you roasted him. The banter, the easy familiarity—it all added up. They’re married?

“Go sit down,” you told Minho, nudging him out of the kitchen. “I’ll make something quick before I leave.”

Minho grumbled under his breath but obeyed, brushing past Felix on his way back to the living room. Felix hurried to take a seat, trying to appear nonchalant, though his mind was racing.

When you passed through the room moments later, coffee in hand, you offered Felix a warm smile. “Nice meeting you. Don’t give him too hard of a time with your questions.”

Felix nodded mutely, watching you leave. The moment the door shut behind you, he turned to Minho, who had returned with two glasses of juice.

“Professor…” Felix began slowly, his voice thick with disbelief. “Is she your wife?”

Minho raised an eyebrow as he sipped his juice. “Yes. Why?”

Felix blinked rapidly, struggling to reconcile this new information. “No reason,” he mumbled, though his expression betrayed his shock.

Moments later, you returned to the hallway, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. Minho met you by the door, leaning casually against the frame.

“Don’t overwork yourself,” he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll try,” you replied, a familiar warmth in your voice. You both knew it was a promise you likely wouldn’t keep.

Felix, still reeling from the day’s revelations, hovered awkwardly nearby. As you stepped outside, he called out suddenly, “Have a good day, Mrs. Lee!”

You froze, the unexpected title catching you off guard. It wasn’t unpleasant—just unfamiliar. Slowly, you turned, offering Felix a polite but flustered smile. “Uh… you too,” you managed before hurrying to your car.

Minho chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe as he watched you leave. “Mrs. Lee, huh?” he mused aloud, mostly to himself, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I like the sound of that.”

Felix, now thoroughly overwhelmed, buried his face in his hands. Sundays, he realised, were never as peaceful as they seemed.

Minho shook his head, walking back inside. “Come on, let’s get to your essay before you start narrating this like a drama.”

The next day at school, Felix did exactly that.

Felix leaned forward dramatically, hands splayed wide as he began recounting his Sunday adventure to a growing crowd of curious students in the cafeteria. His voice, filled with excitement, caught the attention of several nearby tables, each eager to hear more.

"Guys, listen up," he said, flashing a grin. "You won’t believe what I saw at Professor Lee’s house yesterday."

A few students glanced at each other, intrigued, as Felix's words hung in the air. He leaned in, lowering his voice just enough to keep everyone hanging on his every syllable. "So, I went to his place for some essay help, right? And the first thing I notice when I walk in is this super cozy vibe. You know, soft lighting, a hint of fresh coffee... real domestic bliss. But then—then, I spot these feminine glasses on the table."

Hyunjin, who had been lounging back in his chair, rolled his eyes. "What’s so weird about glasses?" he asked, unimpressed.

Felix raised a finger, signaling that this story was about to take a turn. "Wait for it. So, as I’m trying to figure out who’s glasses they are, out walks this stunning woman. She’s in full professional attire—like, the whole deal. She’s walking like, like a CEO walking into an important meeting. And guess what? She’s his wife. Dr. Y/N. The surgeon."

Hyunjin blinked, his expression shifting from indifference to shock. “His what?” he practically shouted, hands flying to cover his mouth as his eyes widened.

The murmurs of disbelief spread like wildfire among the crowd, each person leaning in a little closer, straining to catch every word.

"You’re making this up," Jisung said skeptically, shaking his head as he crossed his arms.

Felix smirked, leaning back in his seat with an air of triumph. "I’m not! They’re so romantic, it’s almost nauseating. I’m telling you, it’s like one of those cheesy rom-coms. He even tried to cook for her."

"Professor Lee? Cooking?" Hyunjin scoffed loudly, half-laughing in disbelief. "That man lives off convenience store meals. There's no way he was cooking anything decent."

Felix leaned in closer, lowering his voice for effect. The group went quiet, eager to hear the juicy detail. "He burned it," he said, his face full of mock sympathy.

The table erupted in laughter, the absurdity of the image painting a perfect picture in everyone's minds.

"But that’s not even the best part!" Felix exclaimed, practically bouncing in his seat. "No, no. The best part is how she roasted him. And I mean roasted him. And then, do you know what he said? He said he was trying to make something special for her before she left for work. I mean, come on—imagine that. Your husband burns breakfast out of love for you. Isn’t that just... romantic?"

Jisung couldn’t help himself and muttered, "That doesn’t sound romantic. That sounds tragic."

Felix ignored him, continuing with the fervor of someone who had just witnessed the most entertaining drama. "And the way they bantered? Oh my god, guys, it was like something out of a rom-com. She laughed at him, and he got all offended but secretly pleased—it was like watching this whole love story unfold before my eyes. You would think they had a love marriage, not some arranged one."

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued now. "Wait, they’re in an arranged marriage?" he asked, trying to wrap his mind around it.

Felix nodded solemnly, as if he were revealing some deep, hidden truth. "Yeah. But you’d never know. The way they looked at each other, the way they interacted—if I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were madly in love."

By now, half the cafeteria was hanging on Felix’s every word, the whole campus’s girls were there(for felix’s charm) of course.

And, as expected, the rumors began to spread like wildfire. What started as Felix’s casual recounting of a Sunday visit quickly turned into a full-fledged mystery. Everyone was dying to know more about Professor Lee’s mysterious wife—and, more importantly, if they could have a glimpse into this romance that Felix had so dramatically described.

…

Minho was halfway through grading essays in the faculty lounge when his colleague, Chan, approached him with a mischievous grin.

“Hey, Minho,” Chan started, plopping down in the seat across from him.

“What?” Minho asked without looking up.

“So… I heard some interesting things about you and your wife,” Chan said casually, his tone laced with amusement.

Minho froze, his pen hovering over a student’s paper, Felix’s. “What things?”

“Oh, nothing major,” Chan said, feigning innocence. “Just that you’re apparently head over heels for her, cooking her breakfast and all that. Burnt, of course.”

Minho’s eyes traveled through the paper in his hands and it clicked. “Felix.”

Chan laughed. “So it’s true?”

“Partially,” Minho muttered. “He came over to the house for essay help and caught us in the middle of a normal morning.”

“Normal?” Chan raised an eyebrow. “Apparently, you’re living in a K-drama.”

“Don’t start,” Minho groaned.

Chan grinned, leaning forward. “Come on, though. Is it true you tried to cook for her?”

Minho hesitated before muttering, “I might have… attempted.”

Chan burst out laughing. “Wow, you really are whipped. I didn’t think you had it in you, Minho.”

Minho shot him a glare. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” Chan said, smirking. “But, honestly, it’s nice to see you so… happy. You’re usually such a grump.”

Minho rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he picked up his pen and went back to grading(maybe unfairly) , pretending not to notice the smug look on Chan’s face.

As Chan got up to leave, he clapped Minho on the shoulder. “By the way, I think Felix might be your biggest fan now. Watch out, or he’ll start writing a romance novel about you two.”

Minho groaned, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Meanwhile, you were eating lunch with your colleagues, when a message from Minho popped up.

Minho: Felix told half the campus we’re madly in love. You: We’re not? Minho: That’s not the point. You: It’s not a bad rumor to have, Professor Lee. 😉

Minho stared at the screen, shaking his head. Felix might’ve been overly dramatic, but maybe the kid wasn’t entirely wrong.

[talkingsaxy]

PHOTOS YOU'VE TAKEN OF YOUR BOYFRIEND SEUNGMIN

please don't repost, requests open!

[ihave-atummyache]

NEEEEEEEED TBE OFFICIALS FOR THESE ASAP

ESPECIALLY THIS ONE HOLY MOLY GUACAMOLE HES SO FINEEEEEE

fine luh shiiii

[sweatyracoon]

Tell Me

A/n: Sorry it's been so long. I'll try to be more active, but enjoy this in the mean time.

Warnings: suggestive, vampire boy, angst, fluff?

You had known Felix for a while, but you felt like you didn't know him at the moment.

A few weeks ago he left the shared apartment to visit a few friends at the theater. He came back feeling a little sick.

It had lasted a few days. You stayed home from work trying to help him feel better. It seemed like the flu or a head cold.

He got better, but he was still extremely pale, making his freckles brighter than they had ever been.

His eyes seemed brighter, but darkened when he became upset. He started avoiding you a bit more each passing day, confusing you.

He left the house more often, more during the evening. He felt cold anytime you tried reaching for him, flinching at the temperature of his skin. What was going on with him? Was he still sick?

You asked him once, but he claimed to be fine. It made you sad knowing that your friend didn't feel he could confine in you.

He was wearing more sleeved shirts despite it being summer.

You had finally had enough, not knowing where he was at the late hours if the night.

You decided to stay up in the living room to wait. It was nearly four before you finally heard the door handle unlock.

You stuttered, close to sleep before you heard him. You quickly turned on the light, making him wince in surprise.

He turned to face you, making your jaw drop slightly.

You hadn't seen him face to face in a long while. Just a side glance in passing.

His features had changed drastically.

His blonde hair was black due to tonight's antics, and his freckles had paled, but still leave the highlights to his pale face. His eyes larger somehow, with a red tint. His lips plump and wet, his canines poking out from his top lip.

His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed, looking straight into your eyes.

"Where have you been?" You asked quietly.

"Out," he responded, pocketing his keys. The light jingle of the chain filled the silence.

"But where, Felix? I hardly see you anymore, and you've changed." You plead with him suddenly,missing your best friend.

"I haven't changed, y/n. I've just been busy, is all." He sighed, walking to the island in the kitchen, grabbing a glass to fill with water.

"Your hair is black, Felix," You deadpan, not letting it go.

"Just a dumb decision one of the guys suggested. You like it?" He grinned, sipping from the glass.

You couldn't tell him no, because boy, did the color do him justice. His long hair framed his face, and since it was dark, it went really well with his pale features. You gulped.

"Yes, but-" he interrupted.

"So? I'm alright, y/n. Nothing's wrong," he washed his cup, hoping you'd quiet about the subject. "Why are you awake, anyway? It's nearly time for you to go to work."

"I took the day off. I was hoping we could hang out like we used to? We haven't done that since you've gotten sick," you say, hoping to get to him. Not necessarily guilt tripping, but guilt tripping.

He paused, swallowing nervously.

"I work today," he said quickly, confirming your suspicion.

"Felix, you don't have a job," you sigh, suddenly feeling defeat.

It seemed like your best friend didn't want to spend time with you. Which was fine. You just wish he'd admit it rather than tip toeing around you.

"I just don't think it'd be a good idea is all, y/n," He sighed, coming over to stand a few feet from where you sat. "It's not you, honey. I just have some things going on,"

"Like what, Felix?" You stood suddenly, making his eyes widen. "What's so important that you don't even want to see me? You avoid me like the plague, and it makes sad. We used to do everything together. What happened to you?"

At this point you were nearly yelling, and Felix took a few steps back in shock. You were known for your patience.

"I-"

"And don't give me that nothing bullcrap. Something is obviously going on. Do you have a girlfriend? Is that it?" You were close to tears in frustration.

Felix stopped, looking at you like you had just slapped him.

"Girlfriend? No! I told you I was hanging with the guys! Bangchan and Hyunjin, the ones I introduced you to. Listen, I'm just going through something is all. It's not you," Felix tries calming you down, but it only gets you more worked up.

"What is it? What are you going through that we can't go through together? We always did,"

His eyes softened at your words, coming closer to you.

"I'm just going through some changes. I'm still getting used to them. I'm sure you've noticed a few," he tilted his head at you, waiting for you to follow.

It was then when you caught the light bouncing from his bottom lip. They were still moist, and his top canines poked through, leaving small indents on his lower lip.

"Did you sharpen your teeth? And you are more pale...other than that and the hair, I don't see much of a difference."

It was a lie. You noticed everything. How he changed how he dressed slightly, showcasing his tiny figure. How his hands seemed more pronounced, as if he had suddenly hit puberty, the hunger in his gaze. Not lustful, but a yearning for someone to understand whatever it was that he was going through.

"No, I didn't. It's natural...kinda." he smiled lightly. "It's kinda hard to explain."

"Just try," you begged, grasping at his hands, making him freeze.

"why are you so cold? Do you want me to turn on the heat?" You asked, brings his hands up to your neck hoping to heat them up.

"Uhh, no. I'm okay."

He couldn't breathe all of the sudden. He felt the pulse under your skin, the artery that laid just underneath his palm.

"Just look, okay? Don't freak out?" He looked at you, and you nodded.

He gently twisted his neck to the side, showing his neck. You were confused about what he wanted you to see. Until you saw them.

Two marks on the soft skin of his neck where it met his shoulder. Dots. Resembling the same marks as the ones on tv. Vampire bite marks.

"Is this a joke?" You ask, your voice void of any emotion. You let your hands loosen around felixs', his hands dropping back to his sides.

"No," His eyes glowed with confusion. He did what you asked. "I told you-"

He silenced quickly when you brought two rough fingers up to his neck, rubbing a lot harder than you meant to. You wanted to run the makeup off his neck.

"Ow!" He jerked away from you.

That area of his neck was slightly red, but the bite mark remainder as bright as ever.

"Why isn't it rubbing off?" You ask hesitantly.

"Because it's real, damnit!" He scoffed, massaging the irritated area gently.

"How? All that junk isnt real, Felix. This is a terrible excuse to-"

You couldn't even finish, Felix suddenly snapping, pushing you against the wall. You were pinned, your breath quickening at the sight of your friend.

His eyes blazed a wicked red while his teeth seemed to grow. He scowled, showcasing the pearly whites that framed his wet tongue. His hair suddenly disheveled, his breathing heavy.

"I said, it's real! Just listen to me. Your the one that told me to spill what was wrong!" He all but growled at you, making you cower.

"What are you, Felix?" You whisper, surprised you didn't feel any fear. If anything, you could have sworn you were slightly aroused. But you weren't going to think about that right now.

"I'm still me. Nothing more, nothing less, okay?" His gaze softened as well as his tone, lowering his arms from the makeshift cage he had put you in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

You cut him off with a hug, smiling, feeling relieved at knowing your best friend still wanted you.

"It's okay. It might be a side effect? I'll let it slide. Just don't let it happen often," you grin, seeing the weight fall from his shoulders.

"Can we still hang out tomorrow?" He grinned back, holding your hand.

"Yes. Now let's go to sleep." You said, yawning. You felt the tiredness crumble onto you.

"Oh...I can't sleep."

You groaned, leaving him to stand in the living room giggling.

[sweetkpopmusings]

miserable (you & me) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: i have had these blurbs in my drafts FOREVER. "miserable (you & me)" is a song i've had on repeat since it dropped. i'm also a sucker for angst, so please enjoy these self-indulgent posts (they all have happy endings, i promise!) there will be one for each member, so stay tuned <3 pics not mine~

content: angst, happy ending | wc: 1k | warnings: none really! | pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader | requests:open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

난 가망이 없는 미래에 손을 뻗어 날 부었네 / “i stretched out my hand towards a hopeless future and poured myself out”

of course it would be raining right now. the day’s weather had been normal, a smattering of clouds above and an overcast glow hinting that the weather might take a turn for the worse, but nothing was set in stone. that turned out to be true in a more literal sense, hyunjin realized, while watching people mill about on the street below with freshly opened umbrellas. he scoffed. what did you think would happen? what did you think would change?

the answer was nothing. but i had no choice.

you and hyunjin met up for your usual weekend get-together, returning to a favorite drink spot of yours after a few weekends of schedules keeping you apart. he had missed you so dearly, something that became achingly clear when his whole body lit up from seeing your face peek through the entrance. you noticed the buzz in his body when he greeted you, a sweet laugh escaping your lips. hyunjin’s heart melted at the sound, collapsing even more into endearment when you said, “i missed you a ton, too.”

a moderate number of people took up the tables and seats in the building, so there was a comfortable hum of casual conversation surrounding you. hyunjin, as always, was so closely tuned into the sound of your voice, he would’ve believed you if you said the place was completely empty. it was clichéd for sure, but he was enraptured by every single thing you said. he loved listening to all your thoughts, stories, jokes, anecdotes; whatever you were willing to share with hyunjin, he’d accept with open and grateful hands. you both laughed as you finished telling him an embarrassing story your friend shared with you the other day, and, so you could take a sip of your drink, you asked hyunjin, “how are you?”

without skipping a beat, hyunjin answered, “i’ve liked you for the longest time.”

seeing as that was quite the unexpected answer to your question, you froze. your brain buffered, face showing barely any expression, except maybe shock or confusion. hyunjin, perhaps realizing what just occurred, reacted with wide eyes and frantic apologies. if his confession hadn’t stopped you so sharply in your tracks, the endless refrain of i’m so sorry! i don’t know why i did that. i’m so stupid! would have drowned out the words he spoke so naturally. you didn’t have time to process, but you tried to protest against hyunjin’s incessant apologies. this, it seemed, was fruitless.

hyunjin, with shaking legs and fumbling hands, gathered his things. 

“hyunjin, what’re you–”

“i should go, y/n,” he responded quickly, too quickly for him to mean it.

your heart broke at the way his voice cracked when he said your name, “no, just stay for a minute. please, i–”

his chest tightened when please fell from your lips, but he couldn’t bear the idea of you begging him to stay, only to tell him you didn’t feel the same. yes, it was immature, and, sure, it was probably selfish. yet all hyunjin could think to do was leave. so he did, his goodbye all staggered breaths and darting eyes.

you turned in your chair, barely catching his gaze as he raced to who knows where, “hyunjin?”

his eyes caught yours, and he ripped them away before he lost his foolish resolve. he hoped he offered you a soft smile, something to say i’m sorry for this. i just want you to be happy, and i guess this is me trying to make sure you stay that way. the adrenaline rush meant he couldn’t feel his face, though. he had no way of knowing what he looked like when he looked back at you. 

hyunjin’s whole trip home consisted of pleas for his legs to move faster. if his steps hit the ground hard enough, he could ignore all the scolding voices inside his head until he was safe in his room. if he were honest with himself, he was outrunning the look of shock on your face, and the way your voice fell when you asked him to stay. hyunjin, as he caught his breath in his room, realized that running away from you meant he ended up in front of his window, facing a future of heartbreak. a sardonic laugh broke free from his lips. maybe if you did it the right way, at the right moment, you’d be looking at them instead. maybe you’d be thinking of something other than angsty plotlines for the strangers passing by on the street below. 

“or maybe i could be hurt much worse,” he whispered to himself. 

that was the last sound that shared space with hyunjin in the room. he sat, mind racing and leg bouncing, completely silent. until someone knocked on the door.

hyunjin shuffled to the entryway, instinctively opening it at a familiar knock, only coming to when he saw you standing before him. of course, no matter how hard he tried, his body would always end up right in front of you.

ignoring the way his deflated figure twisted your chest up in all the worst ways, you chided, “you know it’s rude to confess to someone and leave immediately after, right? you didn’t give me a chance to respond.”

you huffed as you spoke. hyunjin couldn’t help the endeared smile that graced his face when he watched your frustrated, furrowed brow turn into a cute, unintentional pout. 

he thought, they are more precious to me than they’ll ever know, and he admitted, “you’re right. it was very rude of me. while i may not deserve to hear it after the way i acted, would you mind telling me what you were going to say?”

your shoulders relaxed as the familiar shine in hyunjin’s eyes returned. his beautiful smile came back too, as he watched your face light up with a reply he’d only ever dreamed of before.

“i like you too, hyunjin. i have for the longest time.”as though his hands weren’t shaking from anxiety a mere five minutes before this moment, hyunjin reached out to you, pulling you into his home and into his arms. when you accepted his invitation and melted into his embrace, hyunjin thought, i’ll pour my heart out to them again and again, if it means we’ll always end up right here, together.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[skzfairyyydreamz]

Texting bf!Skz during NNN! (maknae line)

Genre: Smau, text post, Humor/Crack, 

Pairing: Bf!Skz x Fem!Reader,

Warnings: cussing (as always) , suggestive themes !!!!MDNI!!!!! 18+

A/n: I've been seeing alot of writters take their twist on no nut november and i wanted to give it a go! I'm still working on chapter 7 of REPLACED so i threw this quick post together in the mean time!

Hyung line | Maknae line

Han

Felix

Seungmin

Jeongin

Taglist: @hanniemylovelyquokka @milknhoneyracha @tinyelfperson @jiisungllvr @imastraykidsfan@simpracha @turtledove824  @laylasbunbunny  @armystay89  @eclipsemina @4ln-stay8@aalexyuuuhm @scribblesnsketches05 @amarecerasus @euphoric-univers @stellasays45 @night-storm7 @vixensss @blossomlilly @jc003 @hanniesbubuwife @beccaskz@soyeonbean @kawaiijellyfishtimetravelr @chuuyaobsessed @estella-novella @gabriellamarie@livelaughloveskzmwah @thatshroomiegirl @flowerbunnii @whoa-jo @babygirlskz98@leftenemydestiny @dazzlingjade @hyuneyeon @nightmarenyxx @slayyparkjimin  @aliceskzfan@velvetmoonlght

(plz lmk if you would like to be removed or added)

[astralis-ortus]

guess i missed you too much

✱ boyfriend!bc x fem!reader

— that's what being in love does to you.

w.count → 1.2k genre → fluff warning → reader referred to as baby and my love, 2 (two) chatroom screenshots a.n → based on this request! ngl i was like '!!!' as soon as i read the request bc i can just imagine how it would go i'm—ㅠㅠㅠ also, i have an announcement here about requests, commissions, and fanart shop—i would really appreciate it if you'd check it and help a girl out♡ ⋆ see masterlist

to put it simply, chan is dumbfounded.

he's pretty sure he had mentioned to both han and changbin that you're coming here, to seoul, in a exactly week and chan needs to have all the urgent project revisions to be done prior to your arrival. he's absolutely sure the two promised they will only be gone for a little while to get some coffee to wake them up, and chan is now certain that the two are definitely not only heading out to grab those goddamn coffee.

"if you two aren't back here in 5, just know this is your one and only warning," chan muttered through gritted teeth, trying his best not to sound too pissed before sending the voicenote in their '3racha only' groupchat.

it's not that chan didn't understand—he knows he's been pushing both changbin and han more than he usually does, and chan is very much aware that the duo are bound to be a bit more rebellious than usual once they reach their point of exhaustion, but he really is looking forward to the time he's about to spend with you, and he's not about to let anything come and ruin that.

it's been a while since you've last spent a considerable amount of time together with chan. sure, there are stolen dates here and there whenever a holiday would match up and you could take some time off to visit chan's version of paradise (which is unironically everywhere within the bounds of japan) together, but those visits always ends as quickly as it starts and left the two of you with a longer list of regrets by the time you had to let your hands slip away from chan' warmth.

so this time, when you finally were able put your responsibilities on rest for two whole weeks, it didn't take much of a convincing for either you or chan to finalize the dates when you would finally be able to be within each other's reach. chan even went the extra mile to immediately book your flight coming in, though you had to basically threaten him with no video calls for a week if he went through with his other plans to spoil you rotten.

well, you could only hope that chan won't pull any uno reverse card on you once this plan came to an end.

a bell sound from his phone quickly distracts chan from the lines of lyrics he's trying to edit—an action he came to regret when the notification in view were merely a singular line of emojis sent by changbin, consisting of the same teasing faces and a pink ribbon both changbin and han been sending chan for days now on end.

"oh, he's done," chan groaned, head tilted back in annoyance as he threw his poor beanie back at the sofa where changbin was supposed to be seated right now. to be frank, chan didn't understand what changbin has been implying with the string of emojis at all. presumably changbin and han had seen the way chan saved your kakao talk profile—hence the pink ribbon, but why now? exactly when chan's the most sensitive of the topic? the fact that chan couldn't contact you drives him even crazier—you had told him you haven't been feeling well and you'd text him again once you feel better, but that was like, what, an eternity ago? chan didn't want the risk of waking you up either especially with your trip coming up, so…

he's basically helpless.

another set of annoyed groan became chan's initial response when his phone came alive with a new notification. reluctantly grabbing the device, chan was mentally prepared for a text bubble sent by the youngest of the three, containing of the same string of emojis changbin had just sent—only for his heart to jump out of his chest when he saw the pink ribbon next to your name.

before chan could type another reply, his attention were robbed by the knocks on his studio door—which is a little weird considering neither han or changbin would bother, and the fact that it's nearly midnight meant that almost no one that chan knows of should be looking for him around this time of night.

"manager hyung?" chan cautiously called out, instinctively grabbing his discarded beanie before he went to reach for the door. "did you leave something? or are you—"

the words on chan's tongue dissipates soon after the door swung open—but even with the way his eyes just doubled in size, chan still couldn't believe what he's currently seeing right in front of him now.

"hi, my channie," you finally spoke, a wide grin decorating your lightly flushed face from all the adrenaline you've been feeling; and only then, chan seems to wake up from his trance.

"wha—baby?" chan could hear how voice had skipped an octave higher, but he couldn't care less—did he fell asleep? is this a dream? chan had to pinch himself before he even pulled you in his arms, tightly wrapping the giggling mess that you are in his warmth. "you're actually here? wasn't your flight next week? did i got the dates wrong? how—"

"whoa whoa, calm down there, racer," you quickly stopped your boyfriend's wild train of questions, still with your smile plastered across the span of your face—your plan is a massive success.

"it was supposed to be next week," you confirmed, eyes still taking in chan's perplexed face while your brain etched the memory in its hall of fame, "but i miss my boyfriend too much to wait another week, so… i asked for bin and jisung's help to change my plane ticket!"

suddenly, everything that's been happening to chan in the past week just clicked—the time he caught changbin and han meddling with his laptop, the nervous chuckles, the way they become way to secretive with their phones, the phone calls, and those lines of goddamn emojis. it all finally makes sense.

"is that so?" chan shook his head despite the clear view of his dimpled smile, arms tightening around your waist, "so you three little naughty being has been cooking up plans behind my back, that's what you're saying?"

the sound of your sweet laugh fills chan with an overwhelming sense of warmth— you might spend the majority of your year apart from each other, but for chan, it's moment like this that makes all the dark nights of longing seem worth to be worth his patience.

after all, you're everthing chan ever wanted in his life.

"my my," clicking his tongue in faux disappointment, chan gently fixed the strands of hair falling over your eyes—ones ever so tender whenever you fixed your gaze on him, "what am i gonna do with you, hm? you naughty little baby?"

"not sure," you cheekily replied, lightly scrunching your nose the way chan usually does. you're just happy that you're finally in chan's arms again, to hell with any of the 'repercussions' chan might be building in his head for your little misdemeanor.

"but can you kiss me first?" you continued, trying your best to stay nonchalant despite the sudden spike of your heartbeat due to your own silly attempt at being witty and chan's surprised laugh, "i think i need my boyfriend's kiss so i could face my punishments later."

frankly, chan's head is still plagued with tons after tons of questions of your little successful stunt—he can't help it, you're someone he love and cares about after all,

but who is he to deny your sweet little plea?

©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[christopher-bangnaldoskzz]

FEELINGS - rewrite

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Genre: Romance

Word count: 0.6k

Warnings: none a lot of fluff

A/N : honestly I’ve been looking at some of my old posts and thinking, God this is horrible 🤣😂🤣 expect more rewrites while I work my life out.

Jeongin casually asked, "How can I tell if I have a crush on someone?" His tone was curious as if he was pondering the brewing feelings within him.

You enjoyed deep and meaningful conversations with Jeongin, where the world around you seemed to disappear. His smile lit up the room, igniting a warm flutter in your stomach that you could never quite shake off. Every time he looked at you with that infectious grin, you felt the urge to share everything on your mind, as if your thoughts and feelings were woven together in an intricate dance of understanding.

"Well, you can’t help but find your mind drifting back to them constantly. It’s like they’ve carved out a space you can’t escape in your thoughts. Whenever they’re nearby, a peculiar warmth spreads through you, making your heart race a little faster. You feel a mix of excitement and nervousness that dances in your stomach, and there's this overwhelming urge to—"

You suddenly trailed off as you caught sight of Jeongin’s gase fixed on you. His eyes shimmered with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine, filled with curiosity and something unspoken as you shared your feelings. The way he looked at you made it feel as though he could see right through to the very core of your thoughts.

“Keep going,” he said with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling with encouragement. “What else?” You felt the heat rush to your cheeks, a mix of shyness and excitement, and let out a nervous laugh, the sound bubbling up before you could stop it.

“Your heart races so fast...” The words almost escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, but before you could finish your thought, Jeongin leaned in closer. His eyes locked onto yours. He gently closed the distance between you with a soft smile, leaning in to press his mouth against yours. The warmth of his kiss interrupted your sentence, silencing your words and replacing them with a sense of belonging.

A thrilling, tingling sensation rushes through your body, sending your heart racing faster than ever. You instinctively pull back, locking eyes with him. In that moment, you can see a mirror of your own excitement reflected in his gase, an undeniable connection crackling in the air between you. spark you felt. You smile and he takes your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

"Oh, I definitely have a crush on you," he giggles softly. He leans in once more and presses his lips against yours in a gentle kiss that sends yet another warm flutter through your chest. The softness of his lips lingers, and as he pulls away, the lingering warmth leaves you smiling widely.

He gases deeply into your eyes, his intense look sending a delightful shiver down your spine, making your cheeks flush a rosy pink. The corners of his mouth curl into a sweet, inviting smile, and he leans down to place a tender kiss on your forehead, a gesture filled with affection.

With a comforting warmth, he wraps his arms around you, drawing you closer into an embrace that feels safe and filled with promise, wrapping you both in a world of your own.

You wrap your arms around him, With a fluttering heartbeat, you close your eyes and wish time would freeze in this perfect moment. He leans in, brushing his lips against your cheek, "I think I'm in love with you, actually." The thrill of his confession sparks a whirlwind of emotions, filling the air with an intoxicating energy.

You gently pull back, your heart racing as you lock eyes with him. You take a moment to soak in the intensity of the moment. With a soft smile that dances across your lips, you nod slowly, feeling the weight of your words. And in a barely audible whisper, filled with both excitement and vulnerability, you confess, "I think I love you too."

Taglist : @daceydeath @armystay89 @krishastumblernow @bakedlilgoonie

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑴𝒂𝒎𝒂’𝒔 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝑩𝒐𝒚*

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Older Reader hinted at as much as I could lol. Bratty!Jeongin, Hair pulling, biting/hickeys, face sitting, oral(f), Edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple rounds/orgasms and creampies, “mama” used, I think I used noona once. Sorry for any missing tags or missing warnings.

A/N: This is a little shorter than I wanted it to be but *Cough cough* I’m always in need of a bratty jeongin who gets put in his place by an older reader.

Find Request Here

-🖤

Jeongin was being particularly feisty today. Making snippy comments back to anything you had said. Even a simple “can you grab that for me” was met with a huff. You didn’t know what got into him but you were getting annoyed with it. “Jeongin” you said sternly looking at him as he looked grumpy on the couch. When he didn’t reply you said his name again.

“What!” He said glaring at you.

“Fix that attitude” you said glaring back at him.

“I don’t have an attitude” he said crossing his arms looking back at the tv.

You sighed, so he wanted to play this game did he. You walked over to him standing in front of the tv. He huffed turning off the tv “whatever, I’ll just go to the room.” He said getting up from the couch. Oh. Oh he was in for it.

You grabbed his arm, pushing him back to the couch. “Excuse you?” You said now hovering above him.

“What the hell!” He hissed back.

“Yeah? What the hells with your attitude!”

“I told you I don’t have an attitude! Stop acting like you’re my- my fucking mother!” He growled back.

You looked at him for a second tilting your head. Gritting your teeth leaning close to him “say that again.” You could see him crumbling under your gaze.

“I- i-“ he stuttered out.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, straddling his lap you ran your hand up the back of his head. Grabbing a chunk of hair pulling it ever so slightly. “Guess I’m just gonna have to fix that attitude myself huh? Dumb little fox” you said voice almost in a hum. You could see him gulp before you leaned down biting his neck. He groaned at the pain his hands flying up to your side. “Nuh uh, you don’t deserve to touch me” you said slapping his hands away.

“That’s not fair” he whined.

“You know what’s not fair? The unwarranted attitude I received all day” you said looking down at him. “Now you either listen or I’ll get the ropes” you said firmly. He slinked his hands back down to his side before you continued your movements on his neck. When he was finally all covered in marks you pulled away standing up. “Pants. Off.” You said and he complied right away. “Good now you can help take mine off.” You said.

He did as he was told stripping you of your bottom and panties. “Lay down on the couch” you demanded. Again doing as he was told hoping you’d let him off a little easy but that wasn’t gonna happen. Not after the attitude he had today, oh no. “Keep those hands to yourself” you said before positioning yourself so your cunt was hovering over his head. “You’re gonna make me cum before I even think about touching you” you said before letting your body down on him. He looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, eyes that were already rolling back at your taste.

He lapped at your folds, tongue darting into your core. You grabbed his hair rolling your hips on his tongue. You let out a small chuckle seeing his knuckles turning white from gripping the couch. As you rolled your hips you leaned back grabbing his cock. He jumped at the sudden touch making him groan. You started moving your hand faster and faster knowing he wasn’t gonna last. “Close” he choked out. You let go of him making him whine ruining his high. You kept up the torture anytime he was close letting go before continuing the cycle.

“Please” he whimpered out.

“Why should I let you cum when you haven’t even made me cum yet hmm?”

“No-Noona- m’sorry” he cried.

“Less talking my little fox” you said ever so sweetly.

Jeongin was now on a mission, sucking at your clit as you road his face. He bit ever so gently, the moan you let out had his head turning. You were close- fuck and so was he again. His hands finally found their way to your hips pulling you down onto him as far as you could. His hands slinking their way up your chest. As much as you wanted to protest you didn’t feeling your high quickly approaching. Something jeongin knew all too well is that you needed his touch, you craved it as much as he craved yours.

“Please cum for me! Please please” he begged. Those pretty eyes stared up at you with desperation. You were gone. Pulling his hair harshly as your legs closed around him. He licked you clean like the good boy you knew he was.

When you finally came down from your high you shifted yourself down. With no warning to him you sunk yourself down taking his cock fully. Seating yourself perfectly on him. He moaned out body moving like he was trying to get away “can’t- I’m-“ he couldn’t even get out the words before he was cumming deep inside of you. “M’sorry” he said in a whisper.

“It’s okay baby, it’s only the start” you said with a devilish grin.

You moved up and down on his sensitive cock, it still slightly hard. His hands gripped at your hips pathetically whimpering. “T’much- m’so sensitive-“ he cried it only falling on deaf ears though.

“Gonna keep that attitude in check my little fox?” You said looking down at his contorted face. He nodded. “Use your words baby” you coo’d.

“Yes- yes! M’sorry I’ll be good”

“Mamas good boy?” You said.

“Mm- ah- mams good boy!” He stuttered out feeling himself about to cum again.

The night went on with this. You had him cumming over and over, but so were you. “Mama please!- can’t- can’t-“ he cried out.

“One more baby? Just one more please my little fox” you said.

When he nodded you leaned your body down. Kissing him sloppily hands tangling in his hair. The sounds of multiple creampies filled the air with sloshing noises. You were sticky from sweat body’s sticking together like glue. You tugged on his hair gently making him whimper into the kiss. “My good boy” you said softly. His hands coming around you before one final thrust he was cumming again. He moved his hands down your body playing with your overly sensitive clit. “N-no you gotta- please cum for me” he groaned out his little hip movements pushing everything deep into you.

He chased your lips hungrily before squeezing your clit gently, sending you over the edge once more. Your legs shook. Body completely collapsing into his. He held onto you whispering little I’m sorrys only for you to shush him. “It’s ok baby, you- you were such a good boy, even making sure I came after you did” you said kissing his cheek gently.

“Let’s get cleaned up and we can have those cookies I made” you said with a smile. Making him nod happily. After showering and cookies you both were curled up on the couch. Jeongin falling asleep in your arms.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[tinytinyblogs]

Do it again, and things will get ugly.

Yandere skz not pleased with your little habit—make sure you understand that.

Hyung line, Maknae line

Stray Kids Masterlist 1.0 & 2.0

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

You’re completely immersed in your book, the world around you fading as you turn the pages. Reading is your favorite escape, a quiet comfort that brings you peace. But just as you’re sinking deeper into the story, a hand suddenly snatches the book out of your grasp. You blink, startled, realizing that Han is standing in front of you. Without warning, he hurls the book across the room with a force that sends it crashing against the wall, the loud thud jolting you out of your peaceful reverie. The book lands on the floor, pages crumpled, and for a moment, you’re too stunned to speak. “Have you even noticed I’ve been here this whole time?” His voice cuts through the silence, filled with a sharp edge of anger that makes your heart skip a beat. “Are those stupid words more interesting to you than me?” There’s frustration in his tone, but there’s something else too—a raw vulnerability, as if he’s trying to mask his own insecurities with anger. You look up at him, seeing the mixture of hurt and irritation in his eyes. It’s more than just frustration; it’s a deep-seated insecurity that rears its head every time you lose yourself in your hobbies.

He hates the way your books seem to draw you away, making him feel like an outsider, as if he’s competing with words on a page for your attention. And no matter how much he tries to ignore it, it eats at him, making him question how much you truly care. He lets out a harsh breath, running a hand through his hair as if trying to steady himself. “Do you even care that I’m here?” he demands, his voice breaking slightly. “Or am I just supposed to sit around, watching you get lost in your own world, feeling like I don’t even exist to you?” His words hang in the air, heavy and filled with an ache he can’t fully hide. You open your mouth to respond, but he continues, the frustration spilling over. “Maybe I should just burn all those books—would that finally get your attention? Make you look at me, instead of always burying yourself in them?” There’s a desperation in his voice now, a vulnerability that’s almost painful to witness, as if he’s baring a part of himself he doesn’t want you to see. For him, it’s not just about the books or your hobbies—it’s about the fear that maybe he’s not enough to hold your attention, that he’ll never mean as much to you as those stories do.

And as he stands there, waiting for you to say something, you can see how much this truly bothers him, how much he longs for reassurance that he’s not invisible to you. "If you want to keep those books, you'd better not get too lost in them," he says, his voice low and firm, each word measured and carrying an unmistakable warning. He steps closer, his gaze never leaving yours, trapping you between his arms as he braces himself on either side of you. The intensity in his eyes pins you in place, leaving you feeling cornered, as if there’s nowhere to escape his scrutiny. "I don’t like it when you ignore me," he continues, his tone tinged with a simmering frustration. His eyes are dark and unwavering, searching yours as if demanding an answer, needing to know that you understand what he’s saying. There’s a raw, almost possessive edge in his voice, a silent insistence that you remember he’s here—that he’s the one who should have your attention. He leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath, his presence consuming the space between you. “Make sure you’ve got that in your mind,” he says, his voice soft yet laced with a hint of a warning, as if he’s daring you to look away or challenge him.

Felix

Felix’s grip on his glass tightens so much that his knuckles turn a stark white against the dark wood of the bar. He watches you, his gaze unwavering, stormy, his jaw set hard as if biting back words he doesn't want to say. Every so often, he brings his drink to his lips, taking a slow, controlled sip, but his eyes never leave you. His attention is riveted on you, locked onto the way you throw your head back with laughter, the way you lean in, smiling, as you engage with the people around you. He’s watching every detail, every casual brush of your hand, every animated gesture, every sparkling smile you offer to those sitting beside you. The laughter surrounding you fills the space like a bright, airy melody, but in Felix’s mind, it’s a sound that grates on his nerves, reminding him of something he hates to admit, something he can’t help but resent. He watches you throw yourself into every conversation with that effortless charm of yours, capturing everyone’s attention without even trying. It's something he’s never understood about you—the way you seem drawn to the energy and approval of others, the way you seem to thrive under their gaze.

And you do it all so naturally, like it’s second nature to you, as if it’s simply who you are. But the thought gnaws at him, unsettling him in a way he can’t control. Why do you care so much about what they think? He wonders why his own presence, his own attention, doesn’t seem to be enough for you. Isn’t that all you need? He’s always been there, always the one standing closest to you, watching you, knowing all the little things that make you laugh, the ways your eyes light up, the little gestures you make when you’re deep in conversation. But as much as he knows you, as much as he feels connected to you, this part of you—the part that shines for everyone—remains just beyond his grasp. As soon as the two of you were alone, he grabbed your arm and dragged you back to his place, his grip firm and unrelenting. The door slammed shut behind you, echoing through the room and leaving a tension that was thick and unsettling. His sudden change in demeanor left you feeling uneasy, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. He fixed you with a cold, penetrating stare, his gaze so intense it felt like it was stripping away every layer of defense you had.

"Is it fun getting their attention?" he asked, his voice low and laced with a quiet rage that made his words all the more frightening. The question hung in the air, his deep voice dripping with accusation, making it feel like he could shatter you with just a look. "Is it fun to bask in anyone else's attention but mine? Because from where I’m standing," he continued, his eyes never leaving yours, "it doesn’t look like there’s anything ‘good’ in you having me but acting like you’re so starved for attention that you have to seek it from anyone else, like some lonely soul without a lover." He took a few slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one calculated, closing the distance between you as his towering frame loomed over you. The intensity in his eyes didn’t waver, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. "This is my warning," he murmured, his voice chilling and measured. "Consider yourself lucky. If I find out you pull something like that again, I’ll make sure you never have the chance to grab anyone’s attention. Ever again." The promise was dark and unmistakable, sending a shiver through you as his gaze held you firmly in place, every word he said echoing in your mind.

Seungmin

It felt profoundly unfair to Seungmin when you didn’t show any gratitude for all the effort he poured into everything he did for you. Every small gesture, every thoughtful act, meant the world to him, yet your indifference stung deeply. He couldn't shake off the frustration that churned within him, particularly when he sensed your ignorance of all his hard work. As you simply nodded at the dessert he had painstakingly learned to make once he discovered it was your favorite, he felt a flicker of anger ignite inside him. The spoon he held felt like a fragile thing in his grip, and he squeezed it tightly, his knuckles turning white as he struggled to contain his emotions. Moments later, unable to bear it any longer, he slammed the spoon onto the table with a sharp clatter that broke the silence, the sound reverberating in the air like a sudden thunderclap. He stood up abruptly, the movement sending a ripple of shock through the room, and began to circle the dining table, his frustration palpable with each stride he took toward you.

He stopped directly in front of you, his expression a mix of hurt and exasperation. “Do you even realize how much I put into this?” he demanded, his voice low but charged with emotion. “I wanted to do something special for you, and all you can do is nod?” The tension between you crackled, and he could feel his heart racing, caught between his desire to express his feelings and the hurt that came from your apparent indifference. His hand trembled with barely contained anger as he faced you, the tension in the air thickening with each passing moment. “All the things I do for you...” he began, his voice strained, carrying the weight of his frustration. He stopped for a moment, closing his eyes as he took a deep breath, trying to rein in the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to spill over. He needed to calm himself, to gather his thoughts before he let his anger get the best of him. “All the things!” he continued, his voice rising slightly as he struggled to keep his composure. “Can’t you at least say a damn thank you?” The plea hung in the air, echoing with a mix of desperation and hurt.

He looked at you, searching for any sign of acknowledgment, any hint that you recognized the effort he poured into every small gesture, every thoughtful act he had done for you. "Eat this. Now." Seungmin’s voice was low but laced with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. His eyes held a stern, unyielding gaze, the kind that left no room for argument. He leaned in closer, his tone taking on a dangerous edge as he spoke, "And from now on, you’re going to be more aware, more grateful for every single damn thing I do for you. Understand?" He held out the spoon firmly, his grip tightening as if daring you to defy him. The way he looked at you made it clear that he expected nothing less than compliance. His expression was a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, that sent a chill down your spine. "You wouldn’t want to see me mad again, would you?" he added, his voice dropping to a quiet but potent warning. The threat lingered in the air, a reminder of the weight his anger carried, and his gaze bore into you, making it clear that he expected you to listen.

Jeongin

He gets visibly frustrated whenever he sees you stumble or drop something, his eyes always drawn to your every clumsy move, each one stirring his concern. Ironically, he’s just as prone to accidents himself; he knows firsthand how easy it is to get hurt in a split second. Perhaps that’s exactly why his frustration with you grows—it’s not just annoyance but genuine worry because he knows just how much a small misstep can lead to something serious, as he's experienced so many times himself. To keep you safe, he’s become hyper-vigilant, watching over you more closely than you might like. He practically has eyes in the back of his head, always noticing when you’re about to trip or reach for something potentially hazardous. Sometimes, his protectiveness feels almost smothering; he keeps such a close watch that you feel he’s always in the room with you, guiding your every movement, as if trying to control every factor around you. Even when he’s not physically present, you’ll receive a flurry of messages, checking in on what you’re doing and reminding you to be cautious.

Just as your fingers hover over the knife handle, his hand darts out, intercepting you with a firm grasp. “How many times have I told you not to cook by yourself?” he says sharply, his tone tinged with impatience and a protectiveness that feels like it’s crossed the line into control. His gaze is unwavering, locked onto you with an intensity that leaves no room for argument. You let out a sigh, a flicker of frustration and defiance slipping into your voice as you answer, “But I want to. I can handle it. I’m not as helpless as you think.” His expression doesn’t soften for a moment. If anything, your words only seem to harden his resolve. “Just because you want to,” he begins, his voice a low, steady warning, “you think that means I’m going to stand by and let you mess with something that could hurt you?” His eyes flash with an almost parental authority, a refusal to back down. “That’s not how this works.” With a purposeful motion, he nudges the knife away from your reach with the toe of his shoe, making his stance clear.

“If I say no, it’s no,” he states firmly, his voice carrying an edge that’s impossible to ignore. He grips your wrist with a sudden, unyielding force, his fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to make you wince. The pressure is intense, almost as if he wants to leave a lasting mark, a reminder of his control. His gaze is sharp, locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach churn. “Understand?” he asks, his voice low and clipped, each word carrying a weight that makes his intentions unmistakably clear. “You’re going to do exactly what I tell you,” he continues, his voice tightening. “If I ever catch you doing something I told you not to…” He pauses, allowing the silence to hang between you, thick and charged. His eyes hold yours, unblinking, dark with a fierce resolve that sends a chill down your spine. “I’ll make sure you learn to obey me.” The words linger in the air, a promise and a threat, making it clear that he won’t tolerate any disobedience. His grip remains firm, unyielding, almost daring you to defy him as he lets the message settle in, making sure you know exactly what he expects from you.

[inkandtension]

Perfect?

request: I'd like to request for younger brother's best friend who has a crush on female reader. Changbin as reader's brother and Hyunjin as his best friend who has a crush on reader. Something a little angsty, a lot fluffy and reader finally agreeing to give this a chance. Changbin as Hyunjin's wing man as well, perhaps? Thanks!

Request made by: @kayleefriedchicken

I hope you like this! I actually thought really hard about this… couldn’t decide how to do this, but I tried 🥲

A Hyunjin fanfic

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The first time Hyunjin saw you, he was seven years old, standing awkwardly on your doorstep with Changbin’s lunchbox in his hands. Your brother had forgotten it at school, and Hyunjin, being the dutiful friend he was, had tagged along to return it. The door swung open to reveal you, hairbrush tangled in your ponytail, one sock pulled higher than the other, and an expression of pure exasperation directed squarely at Changbin.

“What do you want now?” you’d snapped, barely giving Hyunjin a glance before grabbing the lunchbox out of his hands. The door shut with a firm thud before either of them could respond.

“She’s scary,” Hyunjin had whispered in horror to your brother as they walked away, his wide eyes darting back at the door as if you might burst through it at any moment.

Now, thirteen years later, not much had changed—or so it seemed. You were still as sharp-tongued, as blunt, and as intimidating as you’d been back then. But for Hyunjin, something had shifted. The fear he once felt had dissolved over time, replaced by something he couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t fear anymore—not even close.

It was awe, pure and simple. The kind of awe that made his chest tighten and his heart stumble whenever you walked into the room. The kind that left him speechless, even when your sharp gaze made it clear you expected a response. And though you still intimidated him in ways he wouldn’t admit, it wasn’t because you were scary—it was because, to him, you were extraordinary.

It started with small, stolen glances when you weren’t paying attention. Like the way Hyunjin’s eyes would flicker up from his sketchbook when you passed by the couch, your steps hurried, your attention focused elsewhere. He would catch the faintest sway of your hair or the wrinkle of your nose as you muttered something under your breath about the mess in the kitchen—his mess, though he wasn’t about to admit it.

You never lingered, and you rarely said more than a few clipped words to him, but Hyunjin couldn’t help but watch, stealing those fleeting moments like they were something precious. It became a habit he couldn’t shake. Whenever you were nearby, his gaze would wander, drawn to you like there was something magnetic about your presence. He wasn’t sure why it mattered so much—why you mattered so much—but it did.

“I think she hates me,” he admitted one day, sitting cross-legged on the floor of Changbin’s room, his hands tugging at the loose threads of a pillow. There was no other way to explain it. The way you barely acknowledged him. The annoyed little sighs when he asked you a question. The sharp looks you sent his way when you thought he wasn’t paying attention.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Changbin said without looking up from his phone, tossing a pillow halfheartedly in Hyunjin’s direction. “She hates everyone.”

Hyunjin caught the pillow and let out a frustrated groan, flopping onto his back. “Helpful,” he grumbled, burying his face in the fabric like it might somehow drown out his growing confusion. Changbin’s laugh only irritated him further.

“Relax,” Changbin said after a moment, leaning back against his bed. “She’s just like that. If she really hated you, she wouldn’t even bother complaining about the kitchen.”

Hyunjin peeked out from behind the pillow, his lips pressing into a thin line. “So, what? I’m special because she scolds me about dirty dishes?”

“Exactly,” Changbin replied, grinning. “Welcome to the club.”

Hyunjin huffed, rolling his eyes, but deep down, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something in those small moments—something more than indifference hiding behind your sharp remarks and pointed glances. It was a thought that stayed with him far longer than he cared to admit.

…

“Why are you staring at her again?”

Hyunjin flinched so hard that his sketchbook nearly flew out of his lap. He fumbled to keep it steady, his pencil clattering to the floor. “I wasn’t staring,” he said quickly, the heat in his cheeks betraying him.

Changbin smirked from where he leaned casually against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he watched his friend squirm. “You’re so obvious, it’s painful,” he teased, his grin widening.

“I’m not—” Hyunjin cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “You’re imagining things,” he muttered, avoiding Changbin’s gaze.

“Am I?” Changbin tilted his head, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Because I distinctly remember catching you doodling hearts with her initials in your notebook last week. Real subtle, Romeo.”

Hyunjin groaned, slumping back against the couch. “Are you seriously bringing that up right now? I was bored! It didn’t mean anything.”

“Right,” Changbin drawled, pushing off the counter to grab a glass of water. “Totally explains why you’re blushing like a schoolgirl every time she walks into the room.”

“Are you going to help me or just keep making fun of me? Now that you know of my crush on her” Hyunjin snapped, his tone exasperated but still laced with desperation.

Changbin blinked once. Twice.

Then, before Hyunjin could process what was happening, he was yanked up by his collar.

“Say that again,” Changbin growled, his face inches away, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

Hyunjin’s arms flailed as he tried to regain balance, his toes barely brushing the floor. He kinda screamed, his voice high-pitched with panic.

Changbin’s grip tightened, his knuckles white. “I’ve seen how you treat your exes. All that flirting and charm, only to ghost them the second things get even a little complicated? My sister deserves a hell of a lot better than that.”

“I know!” Hyunjin spluttered, his voice cracking. “I know she deserves better, okay? That’s exactly why I’m serious about her. I wouldn’t hurt her. I swear.”

Changbin’s glare didn’t waver, his jaw set like stone. “You’d better not,” he said slowly, his tone dripping with warning. “Because if you even think about breaking her heart, I’ll break your legs. Both of them.”

Hyunjin swallowed so hard it was audible, nodding as much as the grip on his shirt allowed. “Got it. Loud and clear.”

Changbin stared him down for a moment longer, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, with an exasperated grunt, he finally released him, letting Hyunjin stumble and drop unceremoniously onto the floor.

Hyunjin coughed, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he tried to regain his composure. “So...does this mean I have your blessing?” he asked hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Changbin snorted, crossing his arms. “Not even close. You’ve got to earn it. Big time.”

Hyunjin groaned dramatically, flopping onto his back like the world had just ended. “Why are you like this?” he whined, throwing an arm over his eyes.

Changbin raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Because she’s my sister. And you’re my best friend. Which means I’ll help you, but if you screw this up even once, you’re done. No second chances.”

Hyunjin peeked up at him, a small smile tugging at his lips despite the threat hanging in the air. “Thanks, Binnie.”

Changbin rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a long way to go, Romeo.”

Hyunjin grinned, his heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with being manhandled. “Challenge accepted.”

…

After that, Hyunjin couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he’d started asking you out—it had become as natural as breathing. But he was sure he’d lost count somewhere after the twentieth attempt.

“Why not?” he’d ask, his voice swinging between exasperation and relentless hope.

And every time, you’d respond with a sigh, the kind that made him feel like he was chasing something just out of reach. “Because you and I are so different, Hyunjin. You’re chaotic and spontaneous, and I need things to be perfect.”

“But opposites attract,” he’d argue, grinning as if that could tilt the odds in his favor.

“Not always,” you’d reply, your tone soft but unwavering, leaving him staring after you with a mixture of longing and determination.

Giving up, however, wasn’t in Hyunjin’s nature. If anything, your refusals only made him more determined, more creative. He tried everything—from casually offering you coffee “as friends” to sketching silly portraits of you that he’d leave around the house for you to find. Yet, nothing worked.

One evening, as he sat sketching in Changbin’s room, inspiration finally struck. The room was its usual disaster zone—discarded clothes on the bed, empty soda cans threatening to tip over on the desk, and music playing softly in the background. Hyunjin wasn’t fazed; he’d grown used to the chaos by now, even thrived in it.

“You’re making that face again,” Changbin said, breaking the silence as he tossed a crumpled soda can toward the trash bin, missing entirely.

Hyunjin blinked, his pencil hovering mid-sketch. “What face?”

“The one where you’re plotting some romantic nonsense for my sister,” Changbin replied, flopping back onto his bed with a knowing smirk.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but smirk back, leaning into the armrest of the chair. “It’s not nonsense. It’s art.”

“Sure it is,” Changbin muttered, rolling his eyes, though there was a kind of amusement in his tone. He grabbed another can, aiming for the trash again, and missed. “But good luck convincing her it’s not nonsense.”

The next time he saw you, Hyunjin was unusually quiet. No playful banter, no teasing remarks—just him standing in your doorway, fiddling with a small piece of paper like it held all the secrets of the universe.

“What’s that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at the small canvas he clutched.

Hyunjin hesitated, the usual confidence in his demeanor replaced with a hint of nervousness. Then, as if making a monumental decision, he stepped closer, extending it toward you. “It’s for you.”

You accepted it cautiously, turning the paper over in your hands. The drawing was simple yet striking—a red heart, colored almost entirely. Almost. A small section remained blank, stark white against the vibrant red.

“What’s this?” you asked, pointing accusingly at the empty part. Your brow furrowed, already annoyed at the imperfection.

Hyunjin’s fingers twitched at his sides. “It’s a heart,” he began, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Mine. I colored most of it to show how full my life is—with art, with friends, with experiences. But there’s this small part that’s always been empty.” He paused, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Until you. With you, my heart feels full.”

You stared at him, blinking rapidly, but not for the reason he hoped. His words barely registered; your gaze was fixated on that glaring white patch. The emptiness. It made your eye twitch.

“It’s not full,” you said abruptly, your tone sharp with irritation. “You left this part empty!”

Hyunjin blinked, momentarily thrown off. “Well, yeah, but—”

Before he could explain, you marched over to the table, grabbed a black marker, and began furiously coloring in the blank space like your life depended on it.

“There,” you declared triumphantly, holding the paper back up to him with a satisfied huff. “Now it’s full.”

Hyunjin stared at the paper, now a completely filled-in red heart with a jagged black patch in the corner. Then he looked at you, standing there with your arms crossed, glaring like you’d just solved a global crisis. A grin twitched at the corners of his lips, quickly turning into a chuckle.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head.

“I just fixed it,” you shot back, refusing to back down. “Why would you give me something unfinished?”

Hyunjin took a step closer, his voice softer this time. “Because you’re the missing piece.”

For once, you didn’t have a sharp retort ready. The words hung in the air, settling over you like a blanket you didn’t know you needed. Your gaze dropped to the drawing, your grip on it loosening. Hyunjin reached out, gently taking the paper from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours.

Your heart raced, but you refused to let him see the effect his words had on you. “Well, you should’ve just said that,” you mumbled, stepping back awkwardly.

Hyunjin smiled, his confidence returning as he tucked the drawing carefully into his sketchbook. “I did. You were too busy fixing things.”

“Someone has to,” you muttered under your breath, guilty a bit, for not listening earlier.

…

Your room was like stepping into a gallery—a museum of meticulous intent and unnerving precision. It wasn’t just clean; it was curated. Everything had its place, and every place had a purpose.

“Why are there outlines for your slippers?” Hyunjin had asked the first time he stepped in, pointing at the faint white markings on the floor by your bed.

“So I know where to put them,” you replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Hyunjin crouched to examine the outlines closer, his eyebrows furrowed. “You mean you can’t just...put them down?”

You shot him a look that could have cut glass. “And risk them being out of alignment? I’d rather not.”

Hyunjin blinked at you, both impressed and mildly terrified. But his curiosity didn’t stop there. His gaze drifted to the small plant sitting primly on your desk. It wasn’t remarkable—just a simple pothos in a sleek white pot—but what caught his attention was the strange contraption attached to it. A slim silane drip system dangled above the soil, releasing a single drop of water at calculated intervals.

“What’s with the...plant IV?” he asked, tilting his head.

“It’s not an IV,” you said sharply, as if offended by his ignorance. “It’s a precision watering system. It keeps the soil perfectly hydrated without overwatering or making a mess.”

He leaned closer, watching a single bead of water hang delicately from the tube before falling to the soil below. “You mean to tell me you built this...so you wouldn’t have to water it yourself?”

“Exactly,” you said, your voice brisk. “It’s efficient. The plant thrives without unnecessary guesswork, and I don’t have to worry about forgetting.”

Hyunjin stood there for a moment, completely dumbfounded. You weren’t a science genius—far from it. Your math grades were decent at best, and you weren’t exactly winning any STEM competitions. And yet here you were, engineering a system so precise it would make a NASA engineer proud.

“It’s just a plant,” he finally said, half in awe and half in disbelief.

“It’s not just a plant,” you countered, crossing your arms. “It’s part of my environment. If it thrives, I thrive.”

And that was how it was with everything about you. Your bookshelves were alphabetized to perfection. Your desk was a masterpiece of organization, with compartments for different types of pens—ballpoints, gels, fountain pens, even highlighters sorted by color and thickness. Your wardrobe looked like it belonged in a high-end boutique, each item arranged by hue and sleeve length. Even the framed photographs on your walls were measured and leveled to exact angles and heights.

“You’re intense,” Hyunjin had said once, watching as you adjusted one of those frames for the third time in as many minutes.

“And you’re sloppy,” you’d retorted, not even sparing him a glance as you measured the frame with your fingers.

He couldn’t argue with that. His own room was a mess of half-finished sketches, scattered pencils, and the occasional stray sock. But while your intensity intimidated most people, Hyunjin couldn’t help but feel fascinated. You were a puzzle he wanted to figure out, a masterpiece of precision that he wanted to study up close.

And maybe—just maybe—he wanted to see what would happen if a little chaos found its way into your carefully knitted world.

His room? A living, breathing embodiment of entropy, where finding his phone often turned into a scavenger hunt.

But when it came to you, everything changed. He found himself trying to fit into your meticulously organized world, even if it went against his very nature. He made an effort to leave his shoes exactly in the outlines you had taped to the floor—a system he still found absurd—and resisted the primal urge to toss his hoodie onto your flawlessly made bed, even though it was practically begging for it.

What baffled him the most, though, was the contradiction that was you. You, with your symmetrical bookshelves and color-coded wardrobe, had an element of chaos he couldn’t quite wrap his head around. It was in the way you lived. You’d always have three books on rotation, switching between genres like you were competing in some kind of literary decathlon. A thriller, a romance, and a non-fiction book about fungi? All in the same week. And somehow, you kept them all straight.

Then there were the battles with Changbin—endless, dramatic, and often absurd. You’d argue over who got the last slice of pizza like it was a Supreme Court case or accuse him of ruining your towel arrangement when he’d only touched the couch for two seconds. The chaos spilled into the smallest things, but somehow, you made it work. It was like you thrived on order but secretly delighted in breaking the rules you’d set for yourself.

Hyunjin wasn’t sure what to make of it, but he was glad changbin told him one thing: you had a soft spot for books—and, he suspected, for him.

He’d seen it in the way you’d let your guard down when you got immersed in a story, losing track of the rules that normally governed your life.

How lucky of that fungus routine book to have that spot in your heart? Maybe, he thought, maybe I can get some space too….

Hyunjin could find a way to balance his own chaos in a way that fit within yours

…

Hyunjin’s heart raced as he watched you, his hands nervously clutching the edges of the book. When you finally spoke, his breath hitched.

“What’s this?” You eyed the book cautiously, as if expecting a trap.

“Open it,” he urged softly, his usual playful tone replaced with something quieter, more sincere.

You hesitated for a moment, before flipping it open. Your eyes scanned the page, and the air between you two seemed to hold its breath. On the page was a drawing—a sketch of the two of you sitting together, exactly as you were now. But in the drawing, the world felt softer. The lines of your faces, the way your gazes met, were tender. It wasn’t perfect—nothing in Hyunjin’s world ever was—but it felt real. It felt right.

“This is how I see us,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice low but clear. “Two people who are so different but still... fit.”

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. You were never one for sentiment, never one to indulge in these kinds of gestures, but something about this, about the way he looked at you, made you pause. For once, you didn’t have a clever comeback.

Your heart beat a little faster as you closed the book, the weight of his words hanging in the air. Your mind raced, turning over everything, and yet, you couldn’t find a way to resist the pull between you two.

“Why do you keep trying?” you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question felt heavier than you’d intended, as if you were asking for something more than just an answer. You were asking for honesty. For reassurance.

Hyunjin met your gaze without hesitation. His eyes were steady, unwavering, and for once, there was no playful mask to hide behind. “Because you’re worth it,” he said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for the first time, you didn’t have to fight the emotions bubbling inside you. You looked at him, really looked at him. His messy hair, the way his lips twitched into a soft smile, the sincerity in his eyes. The realization came slowly, like a gentle wave breaking over you. What if?

What if you let go of your fears and doubts? What if you let him in?

The thought lingered in your chest, soft and warm.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. With a small smile, you closed the book, your fingers brushing against his as you handed it back. “Alright. Let’s give this a shot.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened, the shock and hope flickering across his face. “Wait, really?”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your tone. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

He laughed, the sound filling the space between you like music. It was light, carefree, and full of hope. He leaned back slightly, his chest rising and falling as he exhaled in relief.

Hyunjin’s heart felt fuller than it ever had before. And for the first time, it wasn’t about the art he created or the world he built around him. It was about you—and the possibility of something more, something beautiful. He finally had the answer he’d been waiting for.

—please inform me if there are any mistakes!—

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