#skz imagines

[alexxajay]

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

[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♡

[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)

[fluffylino]

handsy innie

he's not as innocent as he seems...

-contains suggestive af themes

jeongin is not a pervert.

jeongin is a gentleman.

wrong!

as cute as he is, theres a side of him that comes out only when its the two of you. if you think minho, chan or hyunjin are the handsy members, innie stands at the top of that list.

he's obsessed with your chest.

and by obsessed, i mean obsessed.

you'd be talking to him and realise his eyes are flickering down to your low collar every two seconds.

he's shameless when you decide to not wear a bra at home. his hands slide under your shirt before you know it, and he's squeezing the mounds of flesh.

"...soft" pressing his front to your back, hands kneading at your boobs.

loves drawing circles over your hardened nubs, chuckling when goosebumps rise up on your skin.

"can i, baby..please?"

after a long day of being at the company or right after getting back from tour, how could you deny his sweet voice.

you lay down on the bed with his body slotted sideways between your legs. his cheek squished up on your chest while he lazily mouths over your tits.

practically purring when you stroke his hair down and squirm in his hold.

he's just so ready to feel you up at any time.

god, but when he's in the mood to tease you. he will go all out. there are times he nips at the sensitive skin, leaving bruises all over your chest. so many that it stays for weeks.

loves to see how you press your legs together unconciously everytime he licks a long strip from under, all the way to your swollen nipple, only to suck down on it.

might even try to get you to cum without touching you. could go on for hours till you end up crying from the lack of proper stimulation.

and if he does get you to cum, he's going to keep experimenting...

"gonna make you cum just like this, baby"

.

.

.

.

.

.

Im a strong touchy innie believer!

[jinhyun]

◇ 17. make it romantic pt.2

◇ heart out

◇ hwang hyunjin x reader | best friend’s brother au

when your long-term boyfriend left you for someone else, not only were you left to deal with a broken heart, but also with the discouragement of never finding true love in your life.

after all, you were completely unaware of the fact that your best friend’s little brother fell head over heels for you the moment he first saw you six years ago, and he’d be damned not to show you, firstly, that he was no longer the teenage boy your mind made him up to be, and, secondly, that he would be the man to step up and love you right.

author’s note: who would’ve thought a mingyu comeback would end up being beneficial for our main couple :D i hope you guys enjoy, and as always i would love to read what you think of this<3

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin @shyshyshytwice @nicoleparadas @​broken-glowsticks

[bangtanskz17]

SKZ Bff Hyunjin! texts

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ texts between you and bff! Hyunjin ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

WARNINGS — fluff, jealousy, heavy angst-ish I guess??

PAIRINGS — fem oc x bff! hyunjin, bff to lovers <3

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ srry for not posting

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

P.S. Do You Still Love Me Pt2

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Pt1

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

Body Paragraph: I made a mistake.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

No matter how much time passed from you and Jisung's breakup, you weren't able to shake the immense amount of affection and love you still had for him. Maybe it was because three months was barely enough time to even begin considering moving on, or maybe it was because you knew deep down that you might never fully move on. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from watching his lives, his promotions, his every appearance. Each time, it was impossible to ignore just how sad he looked.

The way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes anymore- how his usual spark seemed dimmer. Even the fans noticed. The comments under his videos were filled with concern: "Jisung, are you okay? You've lost weight…" and "Stay strong, Han, we’re here for you!" It made your heart ache. You knew that expression on his face, the one that tried so hard to look okay but didn’t quite make it. You could see through the mask, and it only made you miss him more.

With a heavy sigh, you sank back into the cushions of your sofa, staring at your phone's screen when a notification popped up, making you jolt.

Kyungsoo. A colleague and friend.

You swallowed hard, feeling the guilt settle like a heavy weight in your chest as you opened the message. After your breakup you had gone out with him to a few dinners- and those were not considered dates at all by you considering they were company events. But even so you felt weird hanging out with another man; and although your friendship was extremley strong- the year you spent with Jisung you decided not to focus on it as much to show respect to Jisung. And now that you were "free" as Kyungsoo put it, things felt different and the thought unsettled you.

Kyungsoo: Y/N, you need to go out tonight. Meet me at 7.

You hesitated. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate his efforts; you just weren’t sure you had the energy to plaster on a smile and pretend that everything was okay. But your hubae was persistent, and you knew he wouldn’t take "no" for an answer.

You: I don't know if I'm up for it.

His reply was almost immediate.

Kyungsoo: You need this, trust me. I’ll be there with you the whole time. Please, just come.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. Maybe he was right. Maybe a distraction was exactly what you needed to stop yourself from spiraling even deeper.

You: Okay. See you at 7.

Setting your phone aside, you let out a long breath, your heart still heavy. You had to do this. For yourself. Maybe even for Jisung- because if he was moving on, then maybe, just maybe, you needed to try too.

It wasn’t about forgetting him. It was about surviving without him.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, feeling that familiar pang of uncertainty creep up. The same old doubts returned, and for a moment, you almost wanted to cancel. But Kyungsoo’s message echoed in your mind: “You need this.”

You shook your head, brushing off the weight of it. You could do this. It wasn’t about moving on completely but about taking small steps forward.

At exactly 6:57 PM, your doorbell rang.

You grabbed your jacket quickly, heading towards the door. When you opened it, Kyungsoo was standing there, holding a small bag of snacks in his hand, his usual smile soft but genuine.

"You ready?" he asked, his voice full of concern but laced with warmth. He placed the snacks on your table by the door and gestured to them, just to make sure you knew they were for you for later.

You gave a small nod, trying to hide the unease that still lingered in your chest. "Yeah, let's go."

He didn't waste any time, leading you down the hallway, his presence a calming force that eased the tension you hadn't even realized was building. The walk to the car was quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. Kyungsoo didn’t push you to talk, and somehow, that made it easier to breathe.

As you settled into the passenger seat of his car, he shot you a glance before pulling away from the curb. "I know this isn't easy for you, but I want you to remember that you don’t have to be okay right now. Just take it one step at a time, alright?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a flicker of relief wash over you at his words. He had always been the kind of friend who didn’t force anything on you, but when he spoke, it felt like he always knew exactly what you needed to hear. The car ride passed quickly, filled with light chatter that made the time slip by unnoticed. Kyungsoo was good at distracting you.

When you arrived at the cafe, it wasn’t as crowded as usual, just a few people scattered here and there. He parked and turned to face you. "Let's grab some coffee. Everything on me tonight."

As you stepped out of the car, the familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of the background music. You weren’t sure what all Kyungsoo had planned, but the quiet vibe of the place felt comforting- almost like a shield against the memories of Jisung that lingered in the back of your mind.

He led you inside, ordering your usual without asking, and you couldn't help but smile at how well he knew you. He handed you the warm cup of coffee, the steam rising and soothing the cold air around you.

You took a sip, expecting your favorite drink to wash a nice feeling over you but instead you found yourself wincing at the flavor.

It's bitter...

"Jagiyaaaa, try this! I know it might be sweet but doesn't that make it just like me?" Jisung wiggled his brows at you. "Its no fun to drink bitter stuff all the time try this its called- a caramel mocha latte! Its warm and delicous." He held his cup out to you and you took a sip.

"Mm. It sweet. And very warm...it is just like you Oppa~"

"Ah...I'm old enough to be your Oppa? No, No, No. Don't remind me. Seungmin will call me old if he hears you say that..."

"Seonbae?" You looked at Kyungsoo who was looking at you adamantly.

He's younger than Ji...

"Hm?"

"I said I think we both needed this, but the real fun part comes later."

You raised an eyebrow, slightly curious but still cautious. "What do you mean?"

Kyungsoo’s grin widened, and with that, he pulled out two tickets from his jacket pocket. "Karaoke. We're going to sing our hearts out. You can thank me later." He said with a wink. For a second, you were taken aback. You hadn’t sung in front of anyone ever, really. Just Jisung and and Seungmin by accident once. But Kyungsoo’s determination was contagious. He handed you a ticket, his expression turning serious, if only for a moment. "You’ll feel better, I promise."

You hesitated, the inner turmoil warring with the quiet anticipation of trying something new. After a beat, you nodded. "Okay."

The sound of music and laughter spilled from the karaoke bar as you arrived, and it sent a small jolt of nervousness through you.

The room he had rented was intimate, just the two of you. Kyungsoo picked the first song, and to your surprise, he chose something lighthearted, an upbeat tune that had your foot tapping before the first note had even finished.

He handed you the microphone, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Your turn."

You looked at him, and despite everything, despite the ache that still lingered, you smiled- just a little. "You’re lucky you’re my friend, Kyungsoo." As you sang, you felt the tension begin to melt away, replaced by a sense of freedom that was slowly returning.

It wasn’t about forgetting Jisung. It was about remembering that you still deserved to smile, to laugh, and to feel alive again.

The night at the karaoke bar flew by. You agreed to just a few drinks to lighten your mood, to forget the weight that had been pulling you down for months. But a few drinks turned into a few bottles and everything had taken a turn you hadn't anticipated.

The alcohol had hit you way harder than expected, numbing your senses and making you laugh at things that weren't even funny. And you realized this night that had meant to be fun, became a night of self pity. Kyungsoo had stayed by your side all night, a little too close, a little too eager, and you barely noticed how his eyes lingered on you in a way they never had before.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the warmth of the room, or maybe it was the pain you were still trying to hide. But suddenly, Kyungsoo leaned in, his lips brushing against yours before you even registered what was happening.

But in an instant you knew.

It was wrong- everything about it was wrong.

Your heart was pounding, your mind a mess of confusion. You pulled back sharply, stumbling a bit in your drunken state, your voice slurring as you pushed him away.

"No… I can’t-"

But the words caught in your throat, your thoughts spinning. You turned on your heel, barely able to see straight as you bolted out of the karaoke room and into the cool night air. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you needed to get away. Far away. From Kyungsoo, from the kiss that shouldn’t have happened, from the memories that haunted you.

You didn't know how the night could turn to this.

You could hear him calling your name, his voice desperate, but you didn’t stop. Your feet carried you away, down darkened streets and unfamiliar alleys, the city lights blurring as tears stung your eyes. The alcohol made you reckless, made you forget where you were even headed. All you knew was that you needed to escape.

Kyungsoo watched you disappear into the night, his heart hammering in his chest. He had messed up- he knew that the moment you had pushed him away, the look in your eyes a clear sign he had crossed a line. Panic set in as he rushed back in and fumbled for his phone, the alcohol making his hands shake. Your phone was still on the table where you’d left it. He grabbed it, his fingers shaking as he scrolled through the contacts.

Jisung.

Kyungsoo hesitated for a second before pressing the call button, his pulse racing as the line rang. It was late, and he wasn’t sure if Jisung would even pick up, but he had no other choice.

After a few tense moments, there was a click. "Hello?" Jisung’s voice was groggy, a mixture of confusion and irritation. As if he was just woken up. "Who is this?"

"It’s Kyungsoo," he blurted out, his words spilling over each other. "I - messed up, man. Y/N’s gone, she just ran out, and I don’t know where she went. She’s drunk, and I-"

"Where are you? Why do you have Y/N-ah's phone?" Jisung’s voice cut through the panic, suddenly alert. Kyungsoo could hear the rustling of sheets, the creaking of a couch- the sound of movement.

"We were at the karaoke bar near downtown," Kyungsoo said, his voice shaking. “She just took off, and I don’t-"

"I swear to God if you hurt her I'll end you." Jisung snapped, his tone cold and controlled. "Don't go after her. Leave her phone at the front desk. I’ll find her."

The call ended abruptly, and Kyungsoo stared at the phone, his stomach churning with guilt. He knew he had overstepped, and he could only hope that Jisung knew you well enough to find you quick.

Meanwhile, Jisung was already out the door, his mind racing. His instincts kicked in as he navigated the familiar streets, the bitter cold biting at his skin. He knew you- he knew where you went when you were overwhelmed, where you hid when things became too much. And if you were as lost and broken as he feared, there was only one place you would go. The playground. The one you guys had claimed as your own secret spot. It was the place where you'd laugh until your sides hurt, where you’d shared quiet conversations under the stars, where you had been the happiest.

His heart pounded as he rounded the corner, the familiar sight of the deserted playground coming into view. Relief washed over him when he saw a figure slumped on the swings, barely visible in the dim light. It was you- your shoulders hunched, head bowed, a picture of defeat and loneliness. And your eyes were red and puffy as you frowned at a pile of your throw up- causing an audible sigh from Jisung.

How'd she get so shitfaced...?

"Y/N," he called out, his voice hoarse with emotion, and you looked up, your eyes red and glassy, confusion crossing your face as you saw him standing there.

"J-Jisung?" you mumbled, barely able to focus as the alcohol fogged your mind. The sight of him sent a fresh wave of pain crashing over you, and you choked back a sob. "Why are you here?"

He didn’t answer right away. He just walked over, his expression a mixture of anger and concern, as he knelt down in front of you, his eyes searching yours.

"You disappeared," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Kyungsoo called me. He said you ran off. Why didn’t you call me? Did he hurt you?"

You shook your head, unable to find the words, unable to explain the turmoil inside you. Everything hurt- your heart, your head, the betrayal you felt when Kyungsoo kissed you, the betrayal you felt when Jisung left you.

"He kissed me which was gross. And you left me which was...also gross." you finally managed to say. "You left, and I don’t even know why. Pabo." You pouted.

Your eyes were half-lidded, and your face was flushed from the alcohol, but he couldn’t help but smile at how ridiculous the whole situation was. You were a mess, and it was breaking his heart while simultaneously filling it.

"Y/N," he called gently, his voice full of concern as he knelt down in front of you. “Can you stand up for me? Or do you need help?"

You blinked at him, your eyes unfocused as you swiveled your head side to side, the world tilting and spinning. "I’m… I’m fine," you slurred, shaking your head like you could shake the dizziness away. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself and stand, but the next thing you knew, the swing tipped just a little too far forward, and you were flung off, landing face-first into the mulch.

The crunch of the wood chips beneath you was the only thing you heard as you felt the rough ground scrape against your cheek. "Ughh…" you groaned, spitting out a few pieces of wood chips from your mouth. You sat up and wiped your face, blinking like you didn’t quite realize what had just happened. You pouted and looked up at Jisung.

He stood there, frozen for a second as he took in the sight of you sprawled out on the ground, covered in mulch, with a strange combination of tenderness and amusement. "Are you okay?" he asked, kneeling down to gently pull you up by your arms.

You squinted at him through the fog of drunkenness, your face twisting in confusion. "I…I’m fine. I’m just…It tastes like dirt." You spit out a few pieces.

Jisung let out a small breath as he pulled you up. "Alright lets get you-

"What’s a squirrel’s purpose in life, huh?” you blurted, your words slurring together as you stared at him intently.

"A squirrel?" Jisung repeated, blinking in confusion.

“Yeah…" you exclaimed earnestly, tapping your head dramatically. "Do you think squirrels...feel stuck in life?"

He stared at you, utterly bewildered by the random thought, but then you laughed, and it was like all the confusion melted away.

"You know…I think squirrels must get stuck, because…they run around all the time looking for nuts…and that's all they do. They do the same things over and over again...and it's sad to watch...because nothing changes. They stay sad and by themselves..." you trailed off, your eyes suddenly going glassy and melanchoy in thought as if you were some 21st century philospher. "Just like…just like…you."

"Me?" Jisung blinked, the mention of his name snapping him back into focus. “What do you mean by that?”

Your eyes became wide and you stammered. "UM- I'm not saying youre a squirrel or like comparing you to a squirrel I just meant uh...I like you...and...you’re like a squirrel not one just like one- but with…more hair and less fur." You reached to pet his head but instead accidentally slapped his face lightly.

Jisung’s mouth hung open for a moment as he tried to process the sheer absurdity of your drunken ramblings. "Y/N- you’re drunk off your mind and have no ideas what you're yapping about. Lets go home-"

"But I’m not ready to go!" you whined, stumbling as you tried to walk, but you couldn’t quite keep your balance.

"I know you’re not," Jisung said, holding your arm so you wouldn’t fall again. "But we’re going to get you some food and water, then go home okay? You can sleep your craziness off."

You let out a half-hearted protest, but in the end, you let him lead you.

As Jisung led you into the convenience store, your stumbling steps and flushed face made you look like you were on the verge of collapse. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, casting a stark light over your disheveled appearance.

The store clerk, a young guy who looked barely out of high school, watched the two of you enter, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. He eyed your unsteady gait, the way Jisung was holding your arm to keep you from falling over, and the slurred way you were giggling to yourself.

"Uh…is everything alright?" the clerk asked, his tone hesitant, glancing between Jisung’s worried expression and your obviously inebriated state. His gaze was sharp, like he was assessing whether he needed to call the authorities.

Jisung quickly picked up on the guy’s alarm, his face turning serious as he tried to explain. "She’s just drunk. We’re fine, I promise," he said, his voice soft and calm. "I’m just trying to get her home safely."

The clerk didn’t look convinced, his brow furrowing even deeper. "Are you sure she’s okay?" he pressed, looking pointedly at your droopy eyes and swaying posture.

"She’s my… girlfriend," Jisung said, his voice catching slightly on the word. "She had a bit too much to drink, but I’m taking care of her." His expression was so genuine, so protective, that it seemed to ease the clerk’s suspicion, though he still looked wary.

You, blissfully unaware of the awkward exchange happening just a few feet away, had spotted a shelf of snacks and suddenly veered off in that direction, nearly toppling over in the process. "Ooh, chips!" you exclaimed, reaching for a bag with unsteady hands.

"Y/N, come here," Jisung whisper shouted, guiding you away from the snacks and back toward him. The clerk seemed to relax a little, nodding slowly, but his eyes still lingered on the two of you as if unsure whether to believe Jisung’s story.

Once you were safely by Jisung’s side again, you suddenly reached up and tugged at his hat, a playful grin spreading across your face. "Sungie, why are you wearing this dumb hat?" you asked, your voice a little too loud for the quiet store. "Take it off! It’s hiding your cute face."

Jisung’s eyes widened, and he quickly grabbed your wrists to stop you from pulling the hat off. "No, no, no," he said hurriedly, his cheeks flushing as he tried to keep his voice low. "I need my hat, okay? People can’t see who I am."

"Why not?" you pouted, tugging harder. "Are you hiding something? Are you like…a secret agent?"

Jisung let out a sigh, trying to keep his grip gentle despite your drunken insistence. "No, I’m not a secret agent, Y/N," he said with a strained voice. "I just…don’t want anyone recognizing me right now. Can you please let me keep my hat?"

You paused, your brow furrowing in deep, drunken concentration, before you finally relented with a dramatic sigh. "Fiiiine," you said, letting go of his hat, but not before giving it one last tug. "But only because you asked so nicely."

Jisung breathed a sigh of relief, releasing your wrists as he gently guided you toward the back of the store, away from the curious gaze of the clerk. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice full of affection even though he was clearly exasperated.

You just giggled, seeming entirely pleased with yourself, as if you’d just won some kind of small victory.

As you guys stood at the drink cooler you pressed your face to the glass.

"Chocolate milk…" you sighed happily. "I want chocolate milk."

Jisung’s smile faltered. "Y/N, I don’t think thats the best option. How about cucumber water?" he suggested, pulling a bottle from the cooler.

"NO!" you screeched, looking up at him with an exaggerated pout. "I want chocolate milk! It’s my favorite!”

Jisung sighed, shaking his head. "Chocolate milk it is."

As he made his way to the counter, you looked around, your gaze landing on something that made your eyes widen.

"What… what’s that?!" you pointed, half-shouting, and Jisung followed your gaze to see what you were looking at. His eyes immediately widened.

"Y/N," he said, his voice tight, "Don’t-"

It was a box of condoms, sitting on the counter in full view. You stared at them for a moment, your drunken mind processing the absurdity of the situation. Then you looked up at Jisung with wide eyes.

"Wait…they're condoms!" you said way louder than you knew you were speaking. "You…you think I should get those?"

Jisung’s face immediately flushed red, and he shook his head in panic. "No, Y/N, don’t-"

“Why not? Are we…not doing it?” You blinked, slurring your words. “I mean, we’re both…um…we’re both virgins, right? So...don't we need..."

Jisung’s cheeks burned brighter as he desperately tried to change the subject. Looking at the cashier frantically. "Y/N, please. Don’t make this weird. Lets just get you to bed."

You looked at him for a long moment before bursting into uncontrollable giggles. "I think squirrels need condoms," you said randomly, then paused, as if considering it deeply. "But…I dunno. Do squirrels even have…sex? Or do they wait until their married, too? Or do they not wait- do you think that they love the same squirrel forever?" You looked at the box in a daze. "Extra small- Ji what siz-"

Jisung’s face was now entirely red, his hand clamping over your mouth.

"Okay, that’s enough of that. Put those back." he said through gritted teeth, flustered, as he quickly led you away, throwing the box on some odd shelf. His heart was pounding, his embarrassment sky-high. "Y/N, we're leaving- now." Jisung said, slamming a random bill on the counter and grabbing you and your milk, dragging you out the store.

What the actual fuck is going on right now...shes a completley different person hammered. And why does she keep talking about squirrels? Is this her drunken habit?

You looked at the bottle of milk, frowning as you stared at it. "Why did I want chocolate milk? This is so dumb…I want strawberry milk," you said, your voice starting to quiver with drunken frustration.

Jisung couldn’t help but groan. "Y/N...Just… let’s get you home, okay? We can order strawberry milk when you're sober."

You nodded with a pout, but then suddenly, your face contorted. "I’m gonna throw up again." you muttered, and before Jisung could react, you were turned to him, your stomach heaving as you suddenly emptied the contents of your stomach all over his zipped up jacket.

"Oops, sorry Jisung...you were the closest..." you slurred weakly, looking up at him with a trembling pout. "I-I'm sorry-" You cried wailing as Jisung took a deep breath.

Lord Almighty please help me.

Jisung closed his eyes for a moment, summoning every ounce of patience he had left. The smell was already starting to hit him, and he cringed, but when he opened his eyes again and saw your tear-streaked face, his annoyance melted away. You were a mess- an adorable, chaotic, and incredibly drunk mess- but a mess he cared about more than he wanted to admit at the moment.

"It’s okay," he said, his voice soft despite the situation. "It’s just a jacket. Don’t cry, okay?" He said petting your hair softly.

"But it’s your favorite jacket!" you wailed, your voice breaking as fresh tears spilled down your cheeks. "You always wear it in your lives! Stay will notice!"

Jisung suppressed a laugh, not wanting to embarrass you further. "I think they’ll survive, jagiya. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up."

He glanced at the jacket and sighed, carefully pulling it off and draping it over a nearby bench, knowing there was no saving it tonight.

As you walked- or stumbled -alongside him, you hiccuped, clinging to your half-empty milk like it was a lifeline. "You’re so…nice, JiJi," you slurred, resting your head against his arm as you walked. "Why did you have to be so nice? It makes it harder to…try to hate you."

Jisung’s steps faltered for a moment, your words hitting him like a sucker punch. Hate him? Did you really try to hate him after everything?

I guess I deserve that...

His chest tightened, but he pushed the thought aside. This wasn’t the time to unpack that.

"Let’s focus on getting you some rest, okay?" he said gently, avoiding your gaze as he led you toward his apartment.

When you reached his building, you perked up slightly, pointing at the intercom like it was some fascinating discovery. "JiJi! It’s like a robot but for your door! Beep-boop!" You giggled, pressing random buttons as Jisung struggled to input his code.

"Stop- hey, stop pressing things, you're making it hard baby-" he said, trying to stifle his laughter as you giggled uncontrollably. His breath caught on the last word, and he couldn't deny how natural it felt to call you that again.

Finally, the door buzzed open, and he guided you inside. As soon as you stepped into the warmth of the apartment, your voice rang out loud enough to wake the neighbors.

"MINHO! MINHO-YA! MINHO-OPPA! MINHO MINHO MINHO!" you yelled, stumbling toward the living room.

A door down the hall flew open, and Minho emerged, looking half-asleep and fully annoyed. "What the hell is going on-" His eyes landed on you, and his irritation faded instantly. "Y/N?" There was a smile in his eyes and he turned towards Jisung. "What happened?"

You hummed as you hugged Minho, and he let you hang onto him like a koala. "Minho-oppa can you beat up Kyungsoo for me? He kissed your little sister and it was gross." You said.

Minho rubbed your shoulder and looked at Jisung with a look that could only translate to:

What the actual fuck?!

Jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. She got drunk. And then she… uh…threw up on me."

Minho raised an eyebrow, clearly amused despite himself. "She threw up on you? Man, that’s love."

You, completely oblivious to the tension, beamed at Minho. "I missed you."

Minho smiled, patting your back as he shot Jisung a pointed look over your shoulder. "I missed you too, you little goblin."

"Shouldn't she have missed me more...?" Jisung muttered, avoiding Minho’s gaze.

Minho studied him for a moment, then nodded, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Alright. Let’s get her to bed before she destroys the place."

He helped guide you to Jisung’s room, where you flopped onto the bed with zero grace. As Minho pulled the blanket over you, you suddenly turned to him, your face serious despite your bleary eyes.

"Minho… do squirrels get lonely?"

Minho blinked, caught off guard. "Uh…I guess? Why?" He asked making sure you were tucked in properly.

You sniffled, your voice cracking as you mumbled, "Because JiJi’s just like a squirrel…and he left me all alone…and he looks lonely too..."

Minho froze, his gaze snapping to Jisung, whose face was unreadable. You didn’t notice, too busy hiccuping and wiping your eyes with the back of your hand, like an upset toddler.

"I…I thought I did something wrong," you confessed, your words slurring but still heartbreakingly clear. "I thought I broke him…so he broke me instead. But I didn't want to ask but I needed to know...so don't tell him I asked you this but-

"Does Jisung get lonely? Does he miss me like I miss him?"

Jisung felt his heart shatter all over again, guilt and regret flooding him as he watched you curl into a ball on his bed. Minho sighed, patting your head gently before standing.

"I'm sure he does...he's just too stubborn to admit it."

"So, squirrels are stubborn?" You murmured, sinking into Jisung's pillow.

"Very. But squirrels can be very passionate too. And kind and loving. They also can make mistakes..."

"Hm...they...do..." You barely managed to ask, your eyes unable to stay open.

"Yeah, but they can fix them too." Minho got up and looked at his younger member, who was staring at you with a 1000 emotions swirling through his eyes. "She’s your problem now," he murmured to Jisung, his voice soft but firm. "Fix it."

And with that, he left, leaving the squirrel-esque boy, the one you had been asking about all along, alone with the weight of your words; and the realization that he couldn’t keep running from the truth.

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ𝟶ﾒ

[loserlvrss]

𝐁𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 k. seungmin ( 김승민 )

synopsis | seungmin as your boyfriend through instagram stories.

pairing : seungmin x gn!reader genre : smau, fluff, lowk crack ? warnings : language, calling min a dog word count : n/a

authors note : new theme new me ???

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 / 25 all rights reserved. 

networks : @blossomnet @starlit-network @k-films @kstrucknet

taglist : | fill out form to be added. 

back to masterlist !

[4linos]

texts w/ clingy!jisung who can’t sleep

bf!jisung x gn!reader

synopsis: texts between you and your boyfriend when he can’t sleep and he misses you. ૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

warnings: suggestive (?) if you squint extra hard

a/n: ignore timestamps!! please 😛..

—

nini’s notes

(first time doing texts it was kind of time consuming for me so i don’t know if i’ll do this again lol 😅😅.)

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[feelbokkie]

soft thought 011

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

hwang hyunjin is the type of dad who would love his child so much before they are even born or brought into the family. he'd spend weeks researching on his own, making sure he's fully prepared. he can't help getting matching outfits for him and the baby. even going as far as getting something from versace, gifted by donatella of course. he will painstakingly paint the baby's room by himself, even going as far as researching the best sort of imagery for baby room and painting whatever little figures would help nurture their little brain. he’d just disappear for hours on end and you’d find him in the baby’s room perfecting the image he’s painting directly onto the wall. he’ll always manage to pick up a book that he’ll want to read to the baby and start building a mini library. some of the books are questionable and maybe a bit too advanced to for story time but if you tell him that he’ll mention how he read online that it’s good to read regular books to babies too for their development. often you’ll find him in the baby’s room putting together some furniture or putting away the clothes he couldn’t help but buy and if you listen closely he’ll be humming sweep little melodies. its only after the baby is born that you realize that he was practicing lullabies when you catch him rocking them to sleep one day.

[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♡

[vanesycho]

feel lazy today so I decided to post texts(I took them all from pinterest and made some small additions)

random stray kids texts[fluff] | m.list

[fluffylino]

thigh riding with minho

his thighs never looked as good as they did right now...

-contains mature themes

you're comfortable. so incredibly comfortable sitting on his lap.

your back pressed up against his chest. head practically melted on his shoulder. his chin nuzzling into the curve of your nape. legs lazily dangle on top of his while he's focused.

resting his hands on your lap and texting away on their groupchat. its a serious discussion, regarding the recording of the new title song.

"one min, baby" he says in your ear, moving his legs and you try to sit up in time.

however he successfully seats you on one of his thighs. not really affected with your weight. he reaches forward to read a few papers, cross checking some things and going back to texting.

quietly you look down. taking in the way his muscular thigh is slotted between your legs. your hands flying down to hold his thigh when he unconciously flexes.

it makes your stomach erupt with a newfound desire.

"min..." you whisper sweetly.

you're happy your back is turned towards him. because if he noticed the way your lips parted ever so slightly and your pupils dilated everytime you adjusted yourself on his thigh, he'd tease you.

"hm?"

he hums, but he's distracted.

the sound of him typing away echoing in your ears. you bite your bottom lip to cover up the breathy gasp. hips subtly moving.

you can't believe how different it feels. although his shorts are in the way and so are your panties, its a new sensation. you had to work to chase your pleasure.

"min...m-minho"

your voice goes softer, wanting his attention now. you wanted him to know how affected you were getting.

fingers clawing just above his knee as you used it as leverage to grind down lightly.

dropping your head down. shivering as you feel his hands on either side of your waist. squeezing you gently.

"turn around baby"

he lets out, spreading his legs further apart. making sure to hold you so you don't fall.

you shake your head shyly. feeling way too embarassed to face him.

"need to see my baby's face" minho urges ever so sweetly. managing to get you to face him. a small smile dancing on his lips when you shakily fist at his t shirt.

whimpering as he jerks his thigh, sending a spark of pleasure right into your aching core.

"wanna ride my thigh like a good girl?"

he cooes, bringing his hand up to tuck the loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

"m'gonna push these to the side" his fingers slide under your shirt. pushing your panties to one side. thankfully you weren't wearing shorts.

you hadn't realised he had pulled the material of his shorts higher. exposing his entire thigh. thick and muscular in all its glory.

"min!"

your eyes fly open. arousal pooling in the pit of your stomach when he pulls you to sit flush on his bare thigh.

warm and hard against your weeping cunt.

"ride it, sweetheart" helping you roll your hips in slow languid motions. exhaling with a soft grunt at the slick that coats his skin.

its a delicious slide that has you holding onto his shoulders.

"f-fuck" he curses under his breath and you realise you had accidently pressed your knee against his covered crotch. hard-on evident.

he flexes his muscle and moves his thigh. grinding you down hard till your clit throbs. slick seeping out of you. swollen and warm on him.

you rut on him with more eagerness. and he intentionally slows you down. gripping your hips and forcing you to slide on his upper thigh.

gradually building up your orgasm. till you squirm.

trying to lift yourself off, only to be pulled back down. pussy crying for release. and so were you.

"a little more, baby. i'll help you"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

his thighs are LICKABLE

[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!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗨𝗽 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗠𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗮𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝘁𝟐

Warnings: None

Maknaeline x Reader. Angst.

Pt1

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ᒍIᔕᑌᑎG

The hours after Jisung had walked away felt endless. The silence in the apartment was suffocating, filled with all the words you wanted to say but hadn’t. You replayed the moment in your head over and over, wishing you could take back your careless joke - wishing you had realized sooner how much Jisung had been hurting.

It was a only an hour later when you worked up the courage to knock on his bedroom door.

You and Jisung had always been so connected to each other you had never been angry with each other for more than an hour before one of you went to fix things. And this time you knew you had to be the initiate it.

There was no answer at first, and for a moment, you thought he might be asleep or just ignoring you. But then, you heard the softest sound - a sniffle, barely audible but enough to tell you that he was still awake, and still hurting.

You knocked again, more gently this time. “Jisung? Can I come in?”

A few seconds passed before you heard his quiet, broken voice. “It’s open.”

You pushed the door open slowly, stepping into the dimly lit room. Jisung propped up against the foot of his bed, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his face buried in his arms. His shoulders were shaking, and you immediately started crying as well.

Without saying a word, you sat down beside him, your hand resting gently on his back. You sniffled as well and at first he didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge you, but after a few long moments, he finally leaned into you, embracing you as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion.

“I hate feeling like this,” he cried, his face hidden in your hair. “I hate that no matter what I do, it feels like I’m never good enough at anything other than what people say I'm good at.”

You cried as well. “You are good enough, Jisung. More than good enough.” You sobbed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way. You are good enough baby."

He shook his head, his voice trembling. “Then why does it feel like no one takes me seriously? Like I’m just...there for comic relief or being cute?”

The pain in his voice was palpable, and you realized just how deeply your words had cut him. Jisung, who was always so full of life and energy, was crumbling under the weight of his own doubts, and you had unintentionally added to that burden.

“I’m so sorry,” you whined, your voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I was just trying to make you laugh, but I didn’t realize how much you were hurting.” You sniffed and choked on your sobs in a rather ugly manner.

He finally looked up at you then, his eyes red and swollen from crying- looking just as messy as you felt as he sniffed up his snot loudly. “It’s not just you,” he said. “It’s... everything. Everyone. I feel like I’m always falling short, no matter how hard I try.”

You wiped away your tears, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. It was wet with tears, and you saw the humor in Jisung's eyes when he saw how snotty your face was as well as his. You couldn't help but both break out laughing amidst the chaotic emotions.

“You’re not falling short, Jisung. You’re amazing at everything you do. You’re talented, hardworking, and you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. I’m so sorry if I ever made you feel like that wasn’t enough. It is enough for me- matter of fact it's more than I deserve. You're not just there for comic relief of being cute. You are funny and you're the single most-cutest thing I have ever seen; but you are also the kindest soul, so smart, and sweet and gentle, and the best boyfriend. The best person to love.”

Jisung leaned into your touch, his eyes closing as a fresh tear slipped down his cheek.

“You’re not a joke,” you reassured firmly, your thumb brushing away his tears and snot. “You’re so much more than that. You’re kind, passionate, and you put your heart into everything you do. You deserve to be taken seriously, and I’m sorry I didn’t show you that earlier.”

He opened his eyes again, searching your face as if looking for the truth in your words. “Do you really think that?”

“I know that,” you whispered, your voice full of sincerity. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you if that’s what it takes.”

For a moment, Jisung didn’t say anything, but then, slowly, a small, fragile smile appeared on his lips. It wasn’t his usual playful grin, but it was a start - a sign that maybe, just maybe, the weight on his heart was starting to lift.

He leaned forward, his breath shaky but steadying. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For seeing me.”

“I’ll always see you, Jisung,” you whispered back, your hand gently running through his hair. “Always.”

The two of you sat there in the quiet of his room, the unspoken promises hanging in the air. Jisung sniffed and you guys looked at each other, his body relaxing against yours as the tension faded away.

"You look a mess." He commented, placing a closed eyed kiss on the corner of your lips and then nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

You smiled and laughed. "You're one to talk." You said, wiping your face.

"I want to cuddle." He said, smiling as you guys laid down with each other.

And as you held him, letting him tell you about everything under the sun in between kisses, you knew that while the doubts and insecurities he had might never fully disappear- as for most people- you would be there to help him through it. Because no matter what, Jisung wasn’t alone. And you would never let him be.

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ᖴEᒪI᙭

Four days passed since the argument, and the silence between you and Felix had been deafening. You hadn’t gone to work- your absence marked by the sudden wave of cold and flu symptoms that hit you not long after that terrible night. You had remembered it had been rather cold in his living room, and maybe this cold was payback for you hurting Felix but either way, you were grateful to have an excuse to hide from the world. The pain of what happened with Felix, however, refused to go away, and still ate at you visibly.

You had barely left your bed, bundled up in blankets with tissues and medicine scattered around your nightstand. Your phone was filled with missed calls and unread messages from concerned friends, but nothing from Felix. That was, until the fourth day. There was a soft knock on your front door, followed by another, more insistent knock when you didn't answer right away. With a groggy sigh, you slowly forced yourself to your feet, shuffling to the door and opening it just a crack, even if you didn't feel like it.

Felix stood there, looking hesitant, holding a plastic bag filled with soup containers, medicine, and tissues. He looked at you with wide eyes, taking in your messy hair, the red-tipped nose, and the dark circles under your eyes. You looked miserable, and his expression softened immediately.

“I was in a rush so I forgot the extra key- I heard you called off work.” he said gently, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “For four days. Are you okay?”

You swallowed, feeling your throat burn. "Just a cold," you mumbled, stepping back to let him in. You couldn't find it in yourself to tell him to leave, even though the ache in your chest was still raw. Seeing him made you want to burst into tears, even though you knew you were cause for the problem. Felix stepped inside, slipping off his shoes and closing the door behind him, the sound loud in the stillness of the apartment.

He set the bag down on your kitchen counter, then turned to you, his face filled with concern. "I thought you might need some soup or something,” he said, his voice gentle, like a caress. "So, I had Minho Hyung help me make some, he said to keep him updated and that he hopes you feel better. He helped me make your favorite cake too so we can eat it when you feel like it."

"Thank you," you said softly, your voice scratchy. You stood there, arms wrapped around yourself, unsure of what to say. You didn’t want to make things worse, but you also knew you couldn’t just pretend everything was fine.

Felix didn't seem to concerned about anything other than you though, and he gently grabbed you by the shoulders. "You should be in bed though, so go lay down while I fix all of this stuff up. Hm?" you noticed the way his gaze softened as he looked at you. “You look terrible.” He said it lightly, teasingly, but there was an edge of guilt in his tone.

You felt a lump rise in your throat, a spur of tears suddenly stinging your eyes. You didn’t want to cry- not now, not in front of him- but you couldn’t help it. The stress, the sickness, and the weight of what had happened between you and how Felix seemed to just let it go all crashed down at once, and before you could stop yourself, a sob escaped your lips.

Felix’s eyes widened in alarm. "Hey, hey, no," he said quickly, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "You’re too sick to be crying like this, baby."

But you shook your head, your tears falling faster. "No," you choked out, your voice breaking. "I need to say this. I need you to know-" You paused, swallowing hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes even though it hurt. "I’m so sorry, Felix. I didn’t mean what I said that night. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you’re not enough or that you’re just…just this one thing. I love you for you, and I never wanted to make you doubt that. I just…I didn’t know how much you were struggling."

Felix’s expression crumbled, his own eyes filling with unshed tears as he listened to your broken apology. He moved closer, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. "Shh, don’t cry," he said softly, his voice shaking. "Please, you’re sick, and you’re going to make yourself feel worse-"

"No, I need you to hear this," you insisted, your voice hoarse but determined. You reached up, clutching his wrist as if afraid he might pull away. "I don’t care if you’re not always happy. I don’t need you to be sunshine all the time, Felix. I just need you. The real you. And I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you had to be anything else."

Felix let out a shaky breath, his thumb still caressing your cheek. He looked down, his forehead pressing gently against yours, and you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. "I was scared," he admitted, his voice raw and vulnerable. "I was scared that if I wasn’t enough, if I wasn’t the person everyone expected me to be, then I’d lose everything. I didn’t mean to push you away, but I…I didn’t know how to deal with it."

You shook your head, your tears slowing as you looked into his eyes, feeling the honesty in his words. "You don’t have to be anything but yourself. I love you, and nothing will change that."

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, Felix pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest, his fingers tangling in your knotted hair, brushing it out. You felt the relief wash over you as he buried his face in your neck, his breath hitching like he was holding back his own tears.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against your skin. "I’m so sorry for leaving that night, for not talking to you. I just… I just really didn’t know how to handle it."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him just as tightly, your face pressed against the warmth of his shoulder. "We can handle it together,” you murmured, your voice soft and steady now. "I’m not going anywhere, Lix. I’m here. Always."

Felix pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes shining with tears, and he gave you a small, shaky smile. "I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than anything."

“I love you too,” you whispered back, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, lingering kiss that tasted of salt and unspoken promises. It was soft and tender, filled with all the words you couldn’t say, and when he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his smile real and warm this time.

"Lix...you're going to be sick now." You let out exasperatedly.

"Well, it was worth it because I missed you, love." He smiled. “Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” he continued softly, wiping away the last of your tears with his thumb. “I brought soup, and you need to rest.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion settle back in now that the weight had been lifted. Felix led you back to your room, tucking you in with the blankets and bringing the soup to your bedside. He sat with you while you ate, his fingers gently playing with yours, his presence a comforting warmth.

And as you lay there, Felix’s hand in yours you knew that regardless of what insecurities he had, while he sometimes felt his world was dark- he'd always be the light in yours.

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ᔕEᑌᑎGᗰIᑎ

The silence in the room was suffocating, and you felt it wrap around you, squeezing tighter with every passing second after Seungmin left. You stood there, your chest tight, unsure of what to do or say. What just happened? You thought you understood, but you were so wrong. You wanted to fix things. You needed to fix things.

It wasn’t maybe even an hour before you heard the door creak back open. You turned, almost expecting him to not be there, but the figure standing in the doorway was Seungmin, looking smaller, his shoulders hunched. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart ache for him. He was holding something small in his hand, but you couldn’t tell what it was.

"Seungmin," you immediately started, your voice shaky as you stepped toward him. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I never wanted to hurt you. I just…I didn’t know what to do. I wanted you to open up but I made things worse and I'm so sorry. I never want you to feel like I'm trying to hurt you. Because that's the last thing I want to do."

Seungmin didn’t respond immediately. He looked down at the ground, his thumb absently tracing the edges of the small box he was holding. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a long sigh and finally spoke.

"I’m the one who should be apologizing, YN." he said quietly, still not meeting your eyes. "I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. But I… I’ve been struggling with this for a while now. I didn’t know how to talk about it, and I didn’t want to drag you into it."

You tilted your head, confused. "What do you mean? Struggling with what?"

Seungmin hesitated, his hand tightening around the box. He glanced up at you, then back down at the object in his hand. "Our anniversary is coming up...and...I’ve been thinking about proposing. And...it scared me. To the point I shut myself off from you..."

You blinked, processing the words. "Proposing? But…why?" You immediately started tearing up. "Shit...I thought you pulled away because you wanted to break up...I..." You let out a nervous giggle, as you fanned your face. "But...you're scared- why?"

He paused, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, his voice cracked ever so slightly. "Because… I didn’t know if you’d say yes. And that made me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself. I’ve always been the dependable one, the one people turn to…but I’ve never been the one people choose first. And I guess I was scared. Scared that you’d think I wasn’t enough, scared you’d see me as just… Seungmin. The guy who’s always there, but never the guy you truly want."

Your heart ached. You stepped closer to him, reaching out slowly as if he were fragile. "Seungmin…I…I never thought that. I never would. You were never my second choice. You've always and forever will be my first."

He looked up at you then, his eyes conflicted, his lip trembling the slightest amount. "I thought you’d be better off with someone else. Someone who…doesn’t have this baggage. Someone who’s not always so quiet and distant when they don't know how to deal with something. How am I supposed to be a good husband when I can't even deal with my own problems sometimes-"

You shook your head, reaching out and gently taking his hand, the one with the box in it. "You’re wrong. I’ve never felt that way. You don’t have to be someone else for me. I love you for who you are. And for all the problems that come with you. I don't need anything changed for me to want to be with you because I already love you."

Seungmin looked at you, his eyes softening just a little. "I’ve always been afraid of letting you see me as weak," he admitted quietly. "I thought you’d think less of me. That I wasn’t good enough. I was wrong...I guess."

You smiled softly, squeezing his hand. "Yes, you were Seungmin." You chuckled. "Thats a first- getting to tell you you're wrong."

You took a breath. "But that doesn't make me anymore right. I wasn't able to figure out when you were struggling. Maybe-"

"Aish! Jagiya! No! Stop." Seungmin shook his head ferociously. "Don't...my problems aren't yours to deal with-"

"But they are, MinMin." You urged quietly. "We're going to dedicate the rest of our lives to each other so our problems are going to be for both of us to solve together, okay? You don’t need to be perfect for me. You’re enough, always. And I’m sorry for ever making you feel like you weren’t. And for letting those insecurities root down in you. I love you Kim Seungmin."

There was a long pause before Seungmin took a deep breath and finally spoke again. "I love you, Y/N." He let his head fall onto your shoulder, as you pat his head.

His eyes fell to the box again, and with a small, tentative smile, he opened it, revealing a delicate ring inside. It was beautiful, simple yet elegant, just like him. Your breath caught in your throat.

"Seungmin…" you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

He looked up at you, his expression vulnerable but hopeful. "I was going to ask you to marry me, on our anniversary but I don't want to wait anymore...besides you already said yes, technically. I mean you said we're dedicating are lives to each other." He explained as he slipped the ring on your finger.

"Of course, I want to be with you. You’re everything to me."

Seungmin’s eyes shone with happiness. "Well just for tradition will you marry me?"

Your heart fluttered as you nodded, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you grabbed his cheeks gently. "Yes, Seungmin. Yes."

He smiled and kissed you lips softly.

"Now," you said with a soft smile, "Can I give you my anniversary gift early? Since you've already given yours early?"

Seungmin smiled faintly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, it was genuine, reaching his eyes. "I’d love that."

You quickly grabbed the small gift bag from the coffee table and handed it to him. He opened it to find a framed photo of the two of you from the first time you had gone on a trip together. It was a moment of pure joy, frozen in time. Paired with it was a small leather bound journal, filled with notes you had written whenever you thought about him since your first anniversary. You fidgeted nervously.

"I know it’s not much," you said softly, "But it’s us. And I want to remember us, every moment."

Seungmin gazed at the photo, his expression softening. He looked up at you, his voice low and filled with affection, his eyes a little glassy. "It’s perfect. You're perfect."

The tension between you was gone now, replaced by a newfound understanding. You stepped into his arms, and he wrapped you in a warm embrace, holding you close.

"I’m sorry," you murmured again, this time with more certainty. "I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I promise I’ll do better."

"No more apologies Jagiya," Seungmin said, his voice full of tenderness. "We’ll figure this out, together. I believe that with all my soul. But for right now let's focus on us." He kissed your nose and then your hand on which the ring was place. "Let forever focus on us."

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ᒍEOᑎGIᑎ

For the next few days, the silence between you and Jeongin was suffocating. He had distanced himself, giving polite responses to your texts but never lingering long enough to have a real conversation if you saw him in person. It tore you apart to see him like this, to know that you had hurt him in a way you never intended.

The truth was, Jeongin’s unintended vulnerability was something you cherished. His soft heart, his kindness, his playful nature- those were the things that made you love him even more. You had taken them for granted, never realizing how much he felt the weight of the "maknae" label.

And you needed to make things right.

On the third night after the argument, you decided you couldn’t let another day go by without apologizing properly. You headed to the dorm he shared with Chan, clutching a small bag that contained his favorite snacks, a note you’d written, and something else that you hoped would show him just how much you cared for every bit of him.

When you arrived, Chan let you in, and you found Jeongin sitting alone in the living room, headphones on, staring blankly at his phone, the little pout you adored . He didn’t notice you until you called his name softly.

"Innie…"

He looked up, surprise- and what you thought might be relief flashing in his eyes, but his expression quickly closed off. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice flat and tired, but with a hint of something else.

You swallowed hard, feeling the nerves twist in your stomach. "Can we talk? Please?"

Jeongin hesitated, his gaze flickering to the door as if he was debating whether to make an escape. But after a moment, he sighed and nodded, pulling off his headphones and setting them aside. "Fine," he said quietly, though the guarded look in his eyes didn’t disappear.

You sat down next to him, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, close enough to inhale his scent, but careful not to touch him. "Jeongin, I’m so, so sorry," you began, your voice shaking with the weight of your regret. "What I said the other day…it was thoughtless and hurtful. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t taken seriously or that you don’t work just as hard- no, harder -than everyone else."

He didn’t say anything, but his gaze softened just a little, a sign that he was listening.

"I love you, Innie," you continued, your words coming out in a rush. "I love everything about you, not just because you’re the youngest or because you’re cute. I love how strong you are, how you always manage to keep a smile even when things get tough. You work so hard, and I see it- every single day. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like I didn’t."

His expression wavered, and you could see the struggle in his eyes. He wanted to believe you, but the wound you had unknowingly opened was still raw.

Reaching into the bag you’d brought, you pulled out the small box of snacks he loved, handing it to him as a peace offering. "I know this won’t fix everything," you said, your voice soft, "But I wanted to show you that I care. And…I made something for you."

Jeongin looked down at the snacks, his fingers brushing over the familiar packaging, with a miniature smile, but it was the second item you pulled out that made him freeze.

It was a photo album, small and simple, filled with pictures you had taken of him over the course of your relationship- moments he probably hadn’t even realized you’d captured. There were shots of him laughing, concentrating, dancing, and even the candid moments when he thought no one was watching. On the first page, you had written:

I see you, Jeongin. Every part of you.

"Jagiya..." He whined, tears welled up in his eyes as he flipped through the pages, his fingers trembling slightly. He stopped on a picture of him practicing late at night- a night where you had stopped by to make sure he was taking care of himself- a night where you had, evidently, take a picture of him exhaustion evident on his face but determination burning in his eyes. It was a photo that perfectly captured the weight he carried.

"You took this?" he asked, his voice cracking.

You nodded. "I see you, Innie. I always have. I just didn’t realize how much I had missed…until now. Maybe I was focusing on how perfect you are to me so much that I missed the parts of yourself I could have helped you love more...I'm sorry."

Jeongin’s face crumpled, and before you could react, he set the album down and pulled you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, his face buried in your shoulder. You could feel his body shaking, and you held him just as tightly, your own tears spilling over.

"I’m sorry," you whispered over and over into his hair, feeling the warmth of his breath against your neck. "I never want to hurt you like that again. I want to be the person who sees you for who you are, who supports you, and loves you without making you feel small."

Jeongin didn’t pull away, his grip on you tightening instead. “I was so scared,” his voice was muffled and thick with emotion. "I was scared you’d break up with me because I was being childish over this. And when I realized you loved me too much to do that, I was afraid you'd see the childishness in it and see that I just proved your point- I'm just a baby in the end aren't I?"

Your heart shattered at the raw vulnerability in his words. You pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that had gathered in his eyes. "Never, Jeongin. Never. You belong right here with me. And you're not childish. Not at all to me. We all struggle with expression sometimes." you said firmly. "I’m so proud of who you are- every part of you. Even the parts that need work."

A slow, shaky smile spread across his face, his dimples reappearing, and he let out a soft, relieved laugh. "I don’t deserve you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"Yes, you do," you said, your voice gentle but unwavering. “You deserve everything, Innie. That's why your hyungs spoil you so much. Not because you're the youngest. But because you undoubtedly deserve all of it."

You saw the light return to his eyes, the tension easing from his shoulders. He leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips- a kiss that spoke of forgiveness, of understanding, and of a love that went far beyond the roles you were expected to play.

When he pulled back, he looked down at the snacks and the album, his cheeks pink with a shy, genuine smile. "Thank you," he said softly, his fingers lacing with yours. "For seeing me…and for loving me."

"Always," you replied, squeezing his hand.

Jeongin looked at the photo album again, a small laugh escaping his lips. "You’re so cheesy, you know that?" he teased, his voice back to its usual playful tone, the spark of mischief dancing in his eyes.

"Yeah, well, you like cheesy," you shot back, nudging him playfully. "Ja- hana dul set- CHEESE!" You sung, earning a melodic laugh and dimpled smiled as he pulled you closer until you were nestled comfortably against his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

"I guess I do," he admitted softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I guess I do."

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