mdanon027

[mdanon027]

[skz] how they accidentally reveal your relationship

pairing: maknae line x reader hyung line here! genre: fluff, hints of angst wc: 2.8k, between 500 - 800 each

Han - on Bubble

“Hannie, are you aware you’re dating another idol?” Minho asks, eyes trained on his phone screen, legs thrown over Han’s lap. 

“Yes, you’ve been my boyfriend for years now. Don’t tell Y/N,” Han remarks. He continues scrolling through his Bubble messages. He’s trying to respond to as many people as he can to make up for his recent inactivity. 

“That too. But look,” Minho shoves his phone in Han’s face. There, on screen, a headline reads: HAN of Stray Kids Dating ITZY Member?? 

Han scoffs. Idols constantly have dating rumors about each other. Very rarely does it mean anything at all. In this case, a camera captured Han and Chaeryeong talking while waiting for their drinks from JYP’s cafe. The picture crops out Chan standing right next to Han. 

At dinner that night, Seungmin asks, “Hey Han, do you think you can get us tickets to an ITZY concert soon?” 

“Yeah!” Hyunjin chimes in, “I bet it would be so easy now that we have connections!”

“Haven’t you known Yeji longer than you’ve known us?” I.N laughs, earning a flick of water his way from Hyunjin. The table quickly descends into chaos as I.N. tries to hit Hyunjin back but misses and hits Changbin instead. 

Nights like this are rare for them - being able to enjoy each other’s company without cameras documenting their group dynamics or worrying about their rigid schedules. It’s relaxing. Freeing. 

Minho silently hands him a beer. Han accepts. 

The night progresses in comfortability and laughter. The boys pile into the living room for a Tekken-tournament-slash-drinking game. Han scrolls through social media, sending you posts he knows will make you laugh. 

He takes a sip from his third beer and opens Bubble again. He never finished answering everyone earlier. 

An idea forms. Chan and Felix are great at recounting amusing stories or sharing their thoughts with Stay. Why can’t he do that too? He’s positive that his fans will appreciate him making light of the dating rumors. 

He types:

Did you guys see I’m dating someone new? Apparently I’m close with ITZY hahaha I don’t think my girlfriend will be happy about it

He smiles and leans back - drinks affecting him more than he’d like to admit - and imagines your sweet laughter when he can tell you in person tomorrow. He loves the fact you never take rumors seriously. He loves how the silliness of some of them become jokes between you. He loves you. 

The room is quieter than it should be. He opens one eye, and is met with seven pairs of eyes staring back at him. 

“Hm?” 

Chan speaks. “You told Bubble you have a girlfriend.”

“You have my Bubble?” Han unlocks his phone. Rereads the words he sent. I don’t think my girlfriend will be happy about it. 

My girlfriend. 

My girlfriend. 

Everybody starts talking at once. 

“I’m like 70% sure you can convince them you meant Minho!” “You should put your phone in a different room when you drink.” “You’re one to talk! Last week you stole my phone and posted my WORST picture ever!” “Yeah, but that was on purpose.”  “Getting a new tattoo would distract people from this.” “Get a tattoo of Y/N’s face!!” 

Han does not hear them. 

My girlfriend. 

Chan’s voice cuts through the chaos. “Have you and Y/N ever talked about going public?”

Silence. Again. Seven pairs of eyes on Han. Again. 

Of course you’ve talked about it. He tried to convince you to hard launch by posting cosplays. You shut him down, and he made a huge show of how he loves you more than you love him. 

You wanted to protect your privacy for a little longer. He would do anything you asked. 

Except the one thing you asked, apparently. His breathing quickens. He doesn’t register Seungmin asking if he’s okay. 

You’re going to break up with him. His careless words cost him the best thing he’s ever had. 

His phone buzzes. On screen:

Y/Nie ���:

Baby I know you’re probably spiraling Chan texted me when you sent it I could never be mad at you for this I love you so much Granted, not the most ideal way to announce it Okay yeah you’re definitely spiraling …we can do your fuckass cosplay idea ONLY if it will help you feel better about this

He loves you. 

Felix - Anniversary Dinner

Felix had insisted on taking you out for your one-year anniversary. He claimed he wanted to properly show you off - the most ”showing off” you two get is hurried moments backstage, fearful of lurking fans or the wrong person’s eyes on you. 

Now, excitement overtakes nerves as you adjust the dress Felix bought you for the occasion. You can hardly even remember the last time you went out without wearing a random SKZ Staff lanyard and toting along a third member. 

JYPE placed that safeguard - nobody would question why Felix was hanging out with staff and at least one of the boys. 

Felix appears behind you in the mirror to wrap his arms around you. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. His hair tickles your cheek. “Really beautiful,” he adds, dragging his eyes down your reflection. 

Your eyes sparkle as you smile back at him. “I’m happy we get to do this.” 

His fingers lace through yours. He places a soft kiss on your forehead, allowing you time to breathe in his cologne. Its scent reminds you of home. Of being in his arms. 

“You’re sure nobody will recognize you?” You ask, worried about what his managers will say if one of their biggest idols’ relationship is unveiled through paparazzi photos. You can’t imagine they would be thrilled. 

“The restaurant is dark, and I’ve booked us a private table. We should be fine,” he murmurs against your skin. 

“What if we aren’t?”

He pulls away, keeping his body pressed against yours, to lock eyes with you. “We will be fine no matter what happens.” His eyes search yours, still seeing your hesitancy. “If ‘what happens’ is our relationship goes public,” he brushes some hair out of your face, “then the world will finally see how lucky I am.” 

Dinner went better than you could have imagined. You hardly recall the food. Just the feeling of what it was like to be out with your boyfriend. To hold his hand. To laugh at his jokes. To admire him across the table. 

To have people recognize you two as a couple in love, rather than writing you off as “an idol and his staff”. 

You are still giddy about last night as you pad into the kitchen. Felix is already leaning on a counter, sipping coffee and scrolling his phone. 

“Morning, baby,” he says. 

You stop in your tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“You only call me normal pet names when something’s wrong.” 

He sighs, taking a couple steps closer. “You’re too observant. It’s nothing bad, I promise.” He pauses, then adds, “Pookiebear.” 

You lean into him. “What’s wrong?” 

His chest rises and falls against your cheek when he sighs again. Wordlessly, he turns his phone to show you his screen. 

An Instagram account you’ve never seen before has posted pictures of you two at dinner. 

Felix lets you scroll through the photos at your own pace. Due to the angle they were taken at, most of them show the back of Felix’s head, with an unobstructed view of your face. You laughing. You mid-bite. You gazing at him like he hung the stars just for you. A couple towards the end capture his face as you leave. 

He takes his phone back. “The good news is you look gorgeous in every single one.” 

You remember one in which you overestimated how much pasta could fit in your mouth. 

He continues. “The bad news is we couldn’t control how everyone sees my gorgeous girl for the first time.”

Your heart flutters at his words. You know this is a huge deal, and his company will be upset, but right now, leaning into him, all you can think about is how much you love him. You two will be okay no matter what, because in the end you will still have each other. 

Seungmin shuffles into the kitchen, staring at his phone, and takes one look at you before deadpanning, “You should take smaller bites. This is gross to look at.” 

Felix lets you go to chase him through the dorm - Seungmin’s screams echoing against your reflection on your life with Felix. 

Seungmin - on a walk

You had a shit day. 

A coworker spilled coffee on your white shirt. Your boss pushed up an already-impossible deadline. You had to cancel dinner with Seungmin the singular night this week he gets out at a reasonable hour. Public transportation shut down - seemingly just to make your day worse. Rain soaked you on your walk home. 

Seungmin darts toward you when you push open the door to your apartment, dripping like a wet rat. 

You smile weakly at him. “Forgot my umbrella,” your voice cracks, betraying any sense of humor you tried to muster. 

“Oh, baby..” his voice trails off as he wraps you in his arms. “Let me take care of you.”

And he does. 

He runs you a hot shower, puts your towel in the dryer so it will be warm and fluffy, and lights your favorite candle - the one he claims smells like the bottom of I.N’s shoe but keeps repurchasing for you anyway. He’s queuing up the next episode of your show when you step into the living room. 

All the emotions you tampered down flood into you when you see him, perfect, waiting for you. Your heart clenches in your chest. Your shoulders shake, and before you know it, tears are streaming down your face as you sit down next to him. 

Seungmin pulls you into him. “Hey, what’s wrong? I thought I did well,” he questions.

“You’re amazing. It’s everything else, I guess,” your voice shakes with the reply. 

“It’s over now, baby. We can decompress - take all the time you need.” He rubs circles on your back, grounding you as you try to stop sobbing. You feel silly crying like this, but it’s hard to stop once you start. It has been so long since you cried, you’re not even sure what you’re crying about anymore. 

“Hey, the rain stopped,” He brings his hand under your chin and gently pushes upwards, forcing you to look at him. He’s right - you no longer hear raindrops tapping against the window. “You want to go on a walk with me? The city will be dark and pretty. And you’re getting my favorite shirt wet.” 

The fresh air will help. You nod. 

The fresh air does help. Puddles reflect neon lights off the ground, and the air smells like rain. Hardly anybody else is out at this hour. It feels as if you and Seungmin have the whole city to yourself. 

Seungmin keeps talking to lift your spirits. You’re walking hand-in-hand as he recounts how both Hyunjin and Han kept messing up the choreo during their practice today. 

“Lee Know was getting so frustrated but taking it out on Hyunjin because you know he can’t stay angry with Han - even though Han was doing worse than Hyunjin. I thought Hyunjin would quit, honestly. But then, Lee Know missed a step and -”

“Seungmin??”

Both of you freeze. 

“Oh my god! Look, it’s Seungmin from Stray Kids!!” a girl on the sidewalk screeches, followed by the sound of her slapping her friend’s arm.

You try to drop his hand. He squeezes yours tighter. 

His management reminds you about the importance of secrecy every single time you see them. It was already risky just to hold hands in the first place, but continuing to do so when he’s approached by fans? They’ll kill you. It’s not even your fault. 

The girls trot over and seem to notice you for the first time. Their squeals overlap, “OHMYGOD I love you!!!” coupled with “Isthisyourgirlfriend??” 

“No,” you two reply in sync, well-rehearsed from practicing with his management team and other close calls. Except, this time, Seungmin is blowing right past “close call” territory. 

He has not let go of your hand. 

As Seungmin begins making conversation with the first girl, the other is staring at her phone, angling her camera towards where you two are connected. She’s filming. You pretend not to notice. Any attention you draw will make it worse when the video is inevitably posted.

Seungmin glances at you, then at the camera. He noticed too. 

He rests his arm over your shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

Eventually, finally, the girls leave. The girls never told you they were videoing, but it became exceedingly obvious the more comfortable they got with him. Seungmin never mentioned it, but he also never took his hands off you. 

“What was that?” You ask when they’re out of earshot. “Your company will have a heart attack when that’s posted.”

Seungmin shrugs. “I wanted them to know I’m yours,” he states simply. “Besides, I don’t want JYP to control my personal life. He does not make good decisions.”

I.N - Backstage

The atmosphere is addicting. The electric air. The screaming fans. Your boyfriend on stage like he was born for it. No matter how many concerts you attend, you always crave more when it’s over. 

The crowd surrounding you cheers as they finish their last encore. The group will stay on for a bit after the song is over, but you want to be waiting for your boyfriend as soon as he gets off stage. No matter what time they end, he’s always practically vibrating with energy after performing - especially to sold-out stadiums. 

You push through the crowd, making your way towards a backstage entrance. Along the way, a group of girls is holding up signs, shouting for your boyfriend’s attention. You glance up at him just in time to see him smile back at you. The girls behind you go crazy. 

You fish a backstage pass I.N gave you long ago out of your bag, but the familiar security guard just smiles and waves you through. Since they are playing at a baseball stadium, this “backstage” is still outdoors, but mostly hidden from the seats.

Quiet chaos awaits you. Staff is rushing around, trying to get everything finalized in their dressing rooms, and for the rides back to the hotel, and to make sure everyone has food after the show. The stadium’s staff is planning out the logistics of doing this all over again tomorrow. 

You find a quiet spot in eyesight of where your boyfriend will be coming back to you. A cool breeze blows against your back. 

Soon enough, the boys are filing off stage, each causing the entire stadium to cheer with their unique sign-offs projected onto screens. 

The energy transforms into full-blown chaos in an instant. Hyunjin jumps up and down, unable to contain his energy. Seungmin dramatically collapses and shouts that he can’t get up for another week. Changbin picks him up bridal-style and twirls him until Seungmin screams. 

I.N appears. His eyes search for you, a smile overtaking his face when he spots you. He sprints over, barrelling into you and lifting you up to avoid falling. You still almost lose your balance to avoid crashing into Chan. 

“Baby!! Did you like it?? Did you have a good time??”

Your giggle matches his own as he sets you down, still holding you close and pressing his forehead against yours. You squeal at his sweatiness, but that only pushes him to try to smush your faces together as much as humanly possible. 

With everything happening around you, you two don’t notice the fans filing out of the venue beside you. 

The clamor grows when fans realize it’s I.N that’s holding you like he never wants to leave. 

I.N leans in and kisses you hungrily, exerting some leftover energy into showing his love. 

Chatter erupts into screams. He pulls away and stares into your eyes. A wall of sound blocked you two from even hearing each other. 

Through the corner of your eye, you can see the band members still in the vicinity all staring at the scene: You and I.N, holding each other, all smiles, while an audience grows in the stands behind you. 

[mdanon027]

you always leave such long comments on fics. Is that like a normal thing to do or...

you guys can rip leaving long rambling comments in the reblog tags of fics from my cold dead hands.

genuinely tho, i don't think any writer would not want that. when i get long comments it's what makes me wanna write more, there's nothing more flattering than someone telling you that they loved/appreciated your work - especially when you're doing it for free like a fic writer is.

plus i'm just a person that loves to not only interact with other writers but let them know that i love their work - even if they don't reply - knowing that they saw it and it maybe made their day like comments i've gotten on my fics have, makes that two minutes i put into writing the praise worth it.

i wouldn't say it's normal, but it should be. cause spending possibly hours or days on a fic just to get no interactions is really disheartening. even just one or two people saying how much they loved it can give the author a lot more fuel to write more.

[mdanon027]

Not So Secret

Lee Minho Ver.

Lee Minho x 9thMember!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

SS Count: 3

Warnings: 9th member au. passing out. fatigue. fluff. minor injury.

Summary: After nearly passing out during a concert, Minho checks on Y/N backstage. What they didn't realise is the whole ordeal was caught on camera.

Stray Kids Masterlist

Hours before she was due to go on stage, Y/N knew that she didn’t feel right yet she didn’t say anything. Now it was minutes before she was about to step out on the stage to perform for thousands of people– she still didn’t say anything. Her breathing came out in deep breaths as she tried to calm her body down. Deep down Y/N knew that she was in no state to perform, her head was pounding and she was sure that if she sat down, she wouldn’t get back up. 

A gentle touch on her elbow knocked her from her thoughts. Y/N immediately knew who it was as another hand firmly planted itself on her lower back. 

“Are you okay?” Minho asked, his voice quiet and concerned. 

Y/N turned to her boyfriend, a strained smile on her face. “Just nerves. You know how I sometimes get before we perform.”

The hand on Y/N’s lower back, pulled her closer to Minho as his voice fell an octave lower. “You can tell me if something is bothering you.”

“I’m fine,” Y/N said, trying her best to keep her voice steady. “I’m just nervous. It will pass soon.”

Minho didn’t look convinced as his hand fell from her back though he still remained standing close to her. The others only gave her a quick glance before deciding not to say anything– they all knew that Y/N’s nerves sometimes ran high before a concert. 

However, what the others didn’t ignore was the protective stance Minho held next to Y/N. That mixed with the concerned glances he was throwing her way, everyone knew that there must’ve been something wrong. Except no one had any time to question it as they were due to go on the stage. 

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped forward, already dreading the next few hours. 

***

The concert was going well, Y/N thought. Despite the pain rising in her body, she had managed to keep up with the choreography, her singing was still as beautiful as it usually was and fans hadn’t seemed to notice anything was wrong. The only thing that seemed amiss was that Minho would constantly come over to check on her. Of course he would achieve this subtly, the questioning glance turning into playful teasing in a split second– just as he usually did with the other members. 

However, half way through the concert something seemed to shift. One moment Y/N was dancing fine and the next moment she felt her head hit the stage. Immediately the boys stopped singing as concerned and frightened whispers spread through the stadium. Y/N felt as if she couldn’t move. Her whole body was exhausted, the light now seemed too bright. 

“Y/N,” Minho said as he gently cupped her face. 

Y/N cracked open an eye to see Minho’s face washed over with concern in front of her. Chan hovered at her other side, the same concern written on his face. 

“I’m okay,” Y/N said, though her voice was weak. 

“No,” Minho said, his voice firm, “you’re not.”

“We need to get her backstage,” Chan whispered to Minho.

Before Y/N could even try standing by herself, Minho had picked her up and began carrying her backstage. The others stayed behind for a brief moment attempting to calm the panicked crowd down. The moment she was backstage, Minho sat her down so she was comfortable before paramedics swarmed around her. 

Her stubbornness only caused her to push them away as they tried to find out what exactly was wrong. Y/N already knew. It was simply dehydration and hunger– and perhaps the beginning of a fever. 

A cold water bottle was handed to her and one by one the paramedics backed away and Minho claimed his place beside her, a hand gently landing on her thigh. 

“That was stupid of you,” he commented as the others gathered around. 

“I was fine,” Y/N insisted, taking another long sip of the cold water.

“You collapsed on stage,” Minho said. Though he didn’t let it show with his voice, Y/N could feel his worry in the way the grip he had on her thigh tightened. “You clearly weren’t fine.”

Y/N looked away from Minho to the others who looked at her in concern. Clearing her throat, Y/N stood from where she was sitting, Minho’s hand the only thing making sure that she didn’t sway on her feet. “Let’s get back out there.”

Chan stepped forward and rested his hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re not going back out there. I knew that there was something wrong but I still let you go out there.”

“And that was my decision,” Y/N said, her voice calm, “not yours.”

“Rest here,” Minho said as he wrapped his hand around her waist. “I’ll be back as soon as the concert finishes.”

Y/N shook her head. “I’ll wait backstage. I still want to watch all of you perform.”

Minho didn’t look too convinced at letting her sit at the side of the stage, Y/N gently gripped his hands in hers. “Would it make you feel any better if I say that the moment I feel dizzy, I’ll come back here?”

“No,” Minho said. “But I know you’re going to sit and watch even if I disagree.”

His lips were formed in a small pout as he laced his fingers with hers. 

“I'll be fine,” Y/N said. “Now let's get you back out on stage.”

Minho gave her hand and small squeeze as he gently wrapped an arm around her waist as they left the backstage area. 

***

Y/N watched the boys perform from offstage with a small smile on her face. After having some water and a few snacks she didn’t feel as awful as when she first collapsed but she still wasn’t feeling great either. 

Throughout the concert, the boys would sometimes run so she was in view and give her a wave or blow a kiss to her. The audience knew exactly what they were all doing. 

But Minho was the one who would catch her eye the most. He never blew her a kiss or even offered her a wave, the soft smile on his face was one she knew that was only reserved for her and the people closest to him. 

Once there was a break between songs and Chan spoke to the fans, Y/N stood off stage watching the boys with a soft smile on her face. As much as she loved performing with them, she always enjoyed watching them. 

As Chan continued to speak, Y/N noticed Minho whisper something to Changbin before he slowly took a few steps back from the others. The others simply ignored him as he turned around and walked directly to Y/N. 

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took a few paces back just as Minho entered the backstage area. 

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked. 

“Getting some water,” Minho replied as he gestured to the spare bottles of water on the table next to Y/N. 

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “There is already plenty of water on that stage.”

There was a soft huff of laughter before Minho’s lips were suddenly on hers as he kissed her fiercely. His hands cupped either side of her face.  Y/N immediately reciprocated the kiss as her hand found his wrists, giving them a soft squeeze. 

“What was that for?” Y/N questioned. 

Minho rested his forehead against Y/N's for a brief moment before he engulfed her in a hug. “You scared me out there.”

Y/N's arms wrapped around him and squeezed him tightly. “I know, I'm sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Minho replied, pulling away to look at her once again. “Just don't do it again.”

He pulled away and pressed another kiss to her lips. It was quick and fleeting but filled with the same love as always. 

“You need to get back out on stage,” Y/N said as she took a step back. She picked up a bottle of water. “And don’t forget your shitty excuse.”

Minho quickly pecked her cheek before walking back onto the stage. Y/N watched him go from where she stood. Her head was still pounding so she sat down on the chair that had been provided for her, taking one of the spare bottles of water. 

***

After the concert, Y/N picked up her phone and saw the influx of messages and notifications. They immediately caught her attention. With a sigh, she unlocked her phone and began reading through them. 

The others slowly began to filter into the room, adrenaline coursing through their bodies. Felix was the first to greet her and the first to acknowledge something was wrong. All Y/N did was turn her phone around to allow Felix to see the amount of posts on social media she was scrolling through. 

“Shit,” he muttered.

Y/N felt a presence behind her before she felt a gentle grip on her waist that tightened once he caught sight of the posts. 

“I told you to be careful,” Y/N muttered as Minho read the articles over her shoulder. It was very clearly them, caught up in an embrace before Minho kissed her. There was no way to spin the story that it was someone else. 

Minho looked up at her. She knew that he would never admit it, but she saw the sadness in his eyes that their relationship wasn't private anymore. 

Y/N gently cupped his cheek. “It'll be okay. We'll figure out how to address it soon.” 

Minho nodded as Y/N pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you,” she said as she silenced her phone and placed it in he pocket.  

Minho fully wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist before muttering in her ear a reply; “I love you too.”

[mdanon027]

how i feel reading a “x reader angst” fanfiction and the reader forgives them immediately instead of making them grovel for a long ass time:

(LIKE??? IM PETTY)

[mdanon027]

THE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND TROPE & STRAY KIDS: A SERIES.

HYUNJIN: PAVEMENT CHALK & NOSTALGIA

Summary: Hyunjin stumbles across a small artist from Twitter and Dms them for tips, short messages of advice turn into confessions of the past and confiding in eachother- and Hyunjin realises that the pretty girl who works with pastels isn't just some nobody.

Chapter 1: ART ENDEAVORS

Chapter 2: SKY DIVING

Chapter 3: ANNIVERSARIES

Chapter 4: WET PAPER TOWEL

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

Tag list: @kochothehoe @chimmyn0chu @katchowbbie @imagine-all-the-imagines @ateez-atiny380 @kisses4cb97 @wickedbutlovely @alisonyus (comment, send an ask, or dm to be added)!

UPDATED EVERYDAY AT 12PM (NOON) BRITISH SUMMER TIME (BST)

[mdanon027]

[skz] how they accidentally reveal your relationship

pairing: hyung line x reader genre: fluff, angst (if you squint) wc: 2.2k, between 400 - 700 each

Chan - on a live stream

Chan's eyelids droop as he reads more comments on his live stream. He could not count the amount of hours that passed since he last slept. Yesterday? Two days ago? He lost track. Still, he sits in front of the blinking red light, recording live content for STAY before he finally goes to sleep. 

“Someone said ‘nice bracelet’,” he reads aloud from his phone screen - having to pause to stifle a yawn. The comment makes him grin, remembering how you recently gifted it to him when he was trying to spoil you. “Thank you, you know, Y/N got it for me on our last trip.” 

His blood freezes the second the words leave his lips. He fucked up. 

Your relationship is not public. Well, rather, it was not public. You both wish to keep that part of your lives private, seeing as so much is already exposed to his fanbase. 

Any triage he can do falls short on his lips as he reads comments pouring in, asking who Y/N is, demanding an explanation, and already speculating that Chan has a partner. Chan’s heartbeat quickens and his mind races. He tries to think of something that would make him still appear cool, and like he wasn’t currently freaking out over saying your name so intimately for everyone to hear. If he spoke, anything he said would just be over-analyzed and posted everywhere. So, he did quite possibly the worst thing he could do. 

He ends the live without saying another word. 

His shaking hands open his phone app to call you, but you beat him to it. Your name appears on his screen. You must have been watching. You must have also seen the comments afterwards. He takes a deep breath and presses Accept. 

You’re silent on the other end. “Do you think anyone heard?” He tries to lighten the mood, believing you’re upset with him for exposing your relationship so carelessly. 

Instead, you surprise him. “Are you okay?” Your voice is full of concern. “You looked like you aged about 20 years in four seconds. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your eyes that wide before.” 

“You’re not mad? I mean everyone knows now, it’s just a matter of time before they find out it’s you, I pretty much just ruined whatever privacy we ha-”

“Hey,” you cut him off, “none of that. No talking badly about yourself. Yes, I’m sure we’ll have to address it soon, but there’s nothing we can do to change what’s already happened. Whatever happens from now on, we will still have each other. Honestly, I’m kind of glad the secret’s out. We can go on real dates now, instead of practically wearing costumes just to grab coffee.” 

Chan knows he is incredibly lucky to have you. One of many reasons he loves you is for your ability to talk him down when he overthinks. He eventually falls asleep on the phone with you, listening to you reassure him that you guys will figure out whatever tomorrow brings. 

Minho - on stage

Management expressed concerns about Stray Kids collaborating with you on your newest single. The higher-ups claimed that with your smaller fan base, the release might not be worth the time taken away from the group working on their own comeback. Of course, they were actually concerned about fans uncovering yours and Minho’s relationship, but they could not officially say that seeing as you have not officially told them anything. It’s an open secret within JYPE, but you two still deny it any time the subject comes up. 

The single reached the highest number of pre-orders you’d ever had. Downloads of all your songs, not just the collaboration, skyrocketed on release day. It seemed like your boyfriend’s group almost did more for your career than JYPE, your own label. 

Currently, the nine of you are at your third promotion event together. This is an informal performance/Q&A session (mainly for Stray Kids, let’s be honest) held near the label’s building, but your heart still swells at seeing everyone who came out to support the song. 

You stand in front of a small sea of audience members, taking a moment to admire their reactions to the performance. Behind you, Felix kicks off the Q&A portion of the event, calling on a fan with their hand raised and passing them a microphone. “Hi, I was wondering, what was the songwriting process like?” They ask, nerves evident in their voice. 

A presence approaches. Minho strides over to your location on stage, ultimately positioning to brush his shoulder against yours. It’s the kind of casual affection nobody would ever think twice about - if this was one of his concerts, and if you were one of his members. 

“Be careful,” you whisper to him, trying not to let the audience catch on to the fact that there’s anything to catch on to. 

He smirks in return. “Always.” 

Four questions pass, and you finally get one aimed for you specifically. You are describing the creative vision for your upcoming album. At some point Minho gravitates over to you again. As you speak, growing excitement radiates off the crowd, “ - I’m so proud of this one and I cannot wait for you to hear it!” 

Your smile widens as resulting cheers ensue. You worked so hard for this moment, and to finally start to see the fruits of your labor fills you with joy. Minho’s gentle hand on your back causes you to meet his eyes. He is already staring at you as if you are the only person in the world. 

Minho did, in fact, forget that you two are on stage. His love for you overwhelms him - he is so honored that you let him share this moment with you. Without thinking, he caresses your cheek, pulls you in, and kisses you. 

Your breath hitches. 

Maybe nobody noticed. Maybe not a single person in the crowd was looking at you or Minho right at that moment. 

The hush that sweeps the audience slashes your delusions. The overwhelming noise a moment later shoots straight into your heart. Yet, you don’t regret it. Minho’s expression mirrors your emotions. Shocked yet happy. 

Han notices what just happened and tries his best to get the crowd under control. Unfortunately, his idea was to sweep past it by continuing with the Q&A. “Alright! Does anyone else have a question for us?” The crowd goes crazy for the second time in five minutes.

Changbin - SKZ-Talker

A strong knock reverberates through yours and Changbin’s hotel room. 

“Mgrhnmm,” Changbin so eloquently mumbles, still 80% asleep after his post-concert adrenaline crash. The urgent knock sounds again. You peel yourself away from him and pad over to the door, adjusting your pajama set so you don’t look as rumpled when you swing it open. 

Chan stands there, staring at his laptop screen, eyebrows furled in either annoyance or concern. Or both. 

“Is Changbin here?” he asks. 

“Chan, I respect the creative process, but it’s three in the morning. Your work will still be there in the morning. Please let him sleep,” you respond, your usual wariness to speak to Chan like that replaced by your actual weariness. 

A flicker of confusion drifts through his eyes. “No, that’s not it. You haven’t seen?” He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. Changbin’s eyes flutter open at the sound of your conversation. You waste no time falling back into the cozy bedding.

Chan takes a seat at the desk, angling the laptop so you two can see it from your positions. The latest SKZ-Talker is paused on screen, Seungmin’s face frozen as he talks to the camera lens. 

“What’s this about hyung?” Changbin asks, finally sitting up now that it’s evident Chan will be staying a while. 

“Yeah, I mean I know Seungmin’s pretty,” you chime in, choosing to ignore Changbin’s nod of agreement, “but why are you showing us this?”

“Look.” Chan points to a spot over Seungmin’s shoulder. “Is that or is that not you two kissing?” 

Oh. Oh no. 

He’s right. With the angle Seungmin’s holding the camera, viewers can see straight down the hallway Changbin was using to warm up. And there’s you, pressing a kiss to his lips as encouragement before he goes on stage. Your stomach drops. 

You barely process Chan’s continued talking. “It’s not as bad as it could be. It’s a split second, the editors must have missed it. I’ll show you,” he rewinds the video a couple seconds and presses play. You two aren’t even on screen anymore. Seungmin’s voice fills the room as he walks through the venue’s hallways. Then, there it is. He shifts his hand, and over his shoulder, the camera captures Changbin leaning into you, smiling as you kiss him. The scene disappears behind a wall as Seungmin keeps walking. 

“Most people haven’t even noticed it. But -” Chan pauses. “But there are already some comments recognizing Changbin. They don’t know who you are,” he looks at you. The “yet” remains unspoken. 

Changbin curses. “Can we delete the video? Edit that part out? Something?”

Your vision tunnels on the screen. How could you be so careless? You knew they were filming a SKZ-Talker that day. You know how easily idols have dating rumors, you should have been more careful. Changbin’s going to have a scandal once Dispatch gets their hands on this. 

Changbin’s hands on your shoulders bring you back to reality. “You okay, princess?”

Your stunned nod tells him you’re not okay. 

“Look at me. Nobody’s mad at you for kissing me,” he brushes some hair out of your face, “I’m especially not mad at you for kissing me. In fact, I think you should do it more often.” His smile mirrors your small grin at his words.

“Yeah. But -” Chan pauses for the second time that night. “Our manager does want to get ahead of this. He’s requesting to discuss it with you now.” Chan notices your shoulders slump. “He doesn’t seem upset. Just stressed.” 

“Okay. Yeah. We’ll head over there,” Changbin replies. Chan nods and quietly slips out of the room. 

Changbin pulls you into him. “I’ve got you,” he whispers, the sound slightly muffled by where his mouth meets the top of your head. “Let me do most of the talking, yeah? We’ll be okay.”

You pull away, his arms dropping to still rest on your waist. “We should probably get going.” Your legs slightly shake as you stand to walk towards the exit. Changbin grabs your hand, his strong grip anchoring you into him. 

Hyunjin - through an Instagram post

Hyunjin fills his house with artwork scattered everywhere. It adorns his walls, his tables, his life. He makes sure no pictures of the two of you are visible through any mirror selfies - your own fans would recognize you, and he’d have a hard time explaining why a photostrip of him kissing you exists. 

Hyunjin’s most recent photo dump is doing unusually well. He smiles as he recalls the memories attached to each picture. He reviewed each photo before posting, but for the first time, he notices that one of your paintings is in the background of one of his selfies. 

The painting that you had posted on your story two days ago when you finished it.

The painting that detail-oriented STAYS and fans of yours are now asking questions about. 

Does the art in the third slide look similar to Y/N’s from a couple days ago??  omg that’s Y/N’s painting!!!!! she said she loved that painting and now it’s in hyunjin’s room?? are they together?? 

Hyunjin’s thumb scrolls down the comments, nitpicking anything mentioning you. You two don’t even follow each other to dissuade any notion of familiarity. Now, it’s snowballing, more and more people catching on when they read previous comments. 

wait whos Y/N???? his gf apparently!!

Hyunjin deletes the whole post. His notifications show an uptick of comments on his previous photo. Fuck. Your Instagram is the same: a growing number of comments asking about your relationship status under pictures of a completely unrelated photoshoot. Fuck. 

He needs to tell you himself before you are bombarded on social media. He texts So we might have to come forward about us sooner than planned. Like right now. 

Your name lights up his phone screen. Fuck. He accepts the call, and immediately launches into a not-dramatic-at-all explanation of how his love for his favorite artist in the whole world exposed your relationship, and really this is your fault if you think about it, because you created the painting in the first place, and you should have known he would love it so much.  

You’re silent until he finally pauses to take a breath. Then, your quiet laughter fills his ears. “I mean, I figured something like this would happen eventually, pabo.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No, love.” 

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

Hyunjin can finally breathe again. An idea springs to his mind. “We NEED to have the best official launch photos!! Can I paint us?”

[mdanon027]

Just Friends… Right?

Pairing : CHANGBIN X READER ( Fluff, Friends-To-Lovers, Soft Teasing, Emotional Tension )

Summary : What starts as a simple movie night between Changbin and Y/N turns into something more, as unspoken feelings begin to surface and lines between friendship and something deeper start to blur

★

You were sprawled out on Changbin’s couch, a blanket thrown over your lap and his hoodie swallowing you whole. It was supposed to be a quick visit just to drop off the snacks he’d left in your car after the group hangout yesterday but somehow, it turned into a full on movie night

Again.

It always did with him.

You barely noticed anymore how easy it was to sink into his space. His home was warm, full of comfy pillows, subtle air freshener, and the smell of whatever protein heavy thing he cooked earlier. And Changbin himself was like a walking heater. Loud, chaotic, hilarious, and then suddenly quiet in those moments when he’d glance at you like you were something important

You didn’t know when your chest had started reacting to that look.

From the kitchen, you heard clinking and the faint hiss of whipped cream. You raised your voice, calling out, “If you put marshmallows in mine, I’m throwing it at you.”

“You wouldn’t,” he shouted back.

“I would, and you know it.”

Moments later, Changbin walked back in, smug grin plastered on his face and two hot chocolate mugs in hand. He handed you one with an overly dramatic flourish like he was delivering treasure.

“There you go, my lady,” he said with a bow. “Prepared with love and a very generous amount of—”

You stared at the mound of marshmallows floating on top.

“Binnie,” you deadpanned, “I just said I hate marshmallows.”

He dropped onto the couch beside you, faking shock. “What?? You do?? Wow. You really should’ve mentioned it.”

“You—!” You narrowed your eyes at him while carefully fishing out a marshmallow with a spoon. “You're lucky you're cute.”

That slipped out faster than you meant.

He froze for a half second. Then smirked. “Oh? Cute, huh?”

You waved the spoon at him. “Don’t make me regret it.”

He just laughed, eyes crinkling as he leaned back against the cushions and took a sip of his own drink, entirely too pleased with himself.

You settled back in, trying to ignore the way your pulse picked up. The movie started some action flick he’d been hyping up all week but your attention was already drifting. Not to the explosions or car chases, but to the way his arm brushed yours every time he shifted. Or how his fingers tapped against the mug in rhythm with the soundtrack. Or how, every now and then, he’d glance your way like he wanted to say something but bit it back.

You sipped quietly, then reached for the remote and lowered the volume just slightly.

“You’re staring,” he said casually, not even looking at you.

You blinked. “I am not.”

"You are. You’ve been staring at the side of my face for the past ten minutes.”

"Maybe it's just a really good side,” you muttered, setting your mug down and pulling the blanket higher.

That made him turn to you, one brow raised. “You okay?”

You hesitated. “Yeah. Just… tired. Life’s been a little much lately.”

He didn’t push. Just nodded, then nudged your foot with his under the blanket.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You shook your head. “Not really. It’s not anything specific. Just… building up.”

He didn’t say anything for a second. Then he leaned back, letting the silence sit between you comfortably before saying, “I get that. You don’t have to explain. Just stay here tonight.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I-I mean….on the couch” he corrected quickly. “Or I can take the couch, you take the bed. I just don’t want you going home feeling like that.”

Your chest ached a little from how casually sweet he was.

You were quiet for a beat. “You’re actually kind of a softie, huh?”

He grinned. “Only for you.”

Your brain short circuited for a moment.

“...You’ve been acting differently lately,” he added after a pause.

“Weird how?”

He tilted his head, thinking. “I don’t know. You’ve been quieter. Not roasting me as much. Or maybe I just miss your usual level of bullying.”

You gave him a look. “You miss me bullying you?”

“Kinda,” he shrugged. “Made it easier not to think about how cute you are.”

The words landed like a dropped pin in a silent room.

You stared at him.

“What?” you whispered.

He blinked like he hadn’t realized he said that out loud. “Shit—no—I mean yes, I meant it, but—damn. That wasn’t supposed to come out like that.”

Your heart was thumping now, louder than the muffled sounds of the movie still playing in the background.

“You think I’m cute?”

He laughed nervously, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I think everything you do is cute. Even when you get weirdly aggressive about marshmallows. Even when you fall asleep mid-sentence. Even when you call me annoying and steal my hoodie and pretend not to care.”

You were stunned silent.

Changbin leaned in just slightly, enough for his voice to drop lower. “I don’t know what this is between us. But it hasn’t felt like just friendship for a while now. At least not for me.”

…Me neither,” you admitted softly.

The distance between you felt suddenly way too small. But you didn’t move.

Neither did he.

Then, he reached up, fingers brushing your cheek as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Okay if I…?”

You nodded, barely breathing.

He kissed you. Soft, careful, like he was still waiting to see if you’d pull away. But you didn’t. You kissed him back, melting into it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When he pulled back, lips hovering just inches from yours, he whispered, “Still friends?”

You smiled, eyes fluttering open. “Friends don’t kiss like that, Binnie.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer into his side and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Good. Because I’m definitely not trying to be your friend anymore.”

—-

Changbin hadn’t moved since he pulled you into his side, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, your legs tangled comfortably under the blanket. The TV was still playing, but the both of you had completely stopped pretending to care about what was happening onscreen.

You were too busy replaying his kiss on a loop in your head.

Every time you shifted slightly, his grip would tighten just a little. Like he still couldn’t believe you were actually here, this close, wrapped up in him. Like maybe if he let go, you’d change your mind.

“You’re warm,” you mumbled against his chest, face tucked right beneath his collarbone.

“You’re heavy,” he replied immediately, voice muffled from the way his cheek was resting against your head.

You smacked his stomach gently, and he let out a dramatic groan. “Ow. Abused in my own home.”

“Please,” you muttered. “I barely even tapped you.”

“I’m delicate.”

You snorted. “You’re literally built like a fridge.”

Changbin smirked, his hand smoothing down your arm under the blanket. “A very soft, emotional fridge.”

There was a beat of silence before he added, quieter now, “...You don’t have to leave tonight.”

You looked up at him. “I wasn’t planning to.”

He gave you a little smile, but you could tell it meant more than what either of you said out loud.

His hand found yours under the blanket, fingers slipping between yours like it had always been that way. You were about to close your eyes, completely content in the quiet glow of his living room, when—

“Binnie?”

The door creaked open.

You and Changbin froze.

And then—

“BRO, YOU LEFT THE GROUP CHAT ON READ AND—oh.”

You peeked up over the blanket as Hyunjin stood frozen in the doorway, mouth slightly open, one brow raised in utter disbelief.

You could see his eyes dart from you, wrapped up in Changbin’s hoodie and half-buried in his chest, to Changbin’s hand clutching yours under the blanket, to the mugs on the table with still-melting marshmallows.

“Are you…?” Hyunjin pointed between the two of you. “Are you guys dating or did I just walk in on a cuddle cult initiation?”

Changbin groaned and dropped his head back against the couch dramatically.

“I knew you were gonna ruin this moment.”

Hyunjin gasped. “So it was a moment!”

You snorted into your hand, laughing way too hard at the entire situation.

“I swear—” Changbin grumbled, “—you guys have a sixth sense for interrupting me when I’m finally getting somewhere.”

Hyunjin just grinned. “Took you long enough, Romeo. You’ve been making heart-eyes at Y/N since the stone age.”

You started blushing immediately, which only made Hyunjin more smug.

“You know what?” Changbin huffed, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him. “Get out. You’re banned from this apartment for like… a week.”

“A week?” Hyunjin scoffed. “That’s it? Bro. Please. You’ll be texting me tomorrow like ‘what do I say when she looks at me like this again’—”

“OUT.”

Hyunjin cackled all the way out the door, which Changbin locked behind him without hesitation.

When he turned back around, his cheeks were a little pink.

“Sorry about him.”

You smiled. “Honestly? I think that was the perfect way for someone to find out.”

Changbin returned to the couch and pulled you right back into his arms like it was instinct. He kissed your temple this time, whispering against your skin.

“Not gonna lie, I kinda like the whole ‘having you in my arms’ thing. Might be addicted already.”

You grinned, snuggling closer.

“Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

[mdanon027]

maybe i was born to read fanfic and obsess over fictional men idk

[mdanon027]

my guilty pleasure

pairing: seo changbin x reader wc: 1.9k summary: you know those artists that you listen to in secret? you—the ultimate cute pop princess—are changbin’s sweet secret, and he attempts to not lose his mind when he finds out you two will be performing at the same event. tags: fluff. idol!reader

“yo, the final performance lineup just dropped,” chan read the email, scrolling through his phone as the others half-listened from the couch.

changbin barely glanced up from his protein bar, pretending to be occupied, pretending not to care. it was just another event, another show, another packed green room where jisung would forget his in-ears and hyunjin would somehow bring three outfit changes.

“any surprises?” seungmin asked, already yawning.

chan blinked at the screen. “wait… wait—no way.”

changbin’s heart dropped. and then picked up speed. and then dropped again.

please not her. please not—

when chan read the full lineup, he choked.

“this is the list”

literally choked. like full-on, should-not-have-audibly-reacted kind of choke.

you were going to be performing. in all your sugary saccharine glory.

“bro?” jisung spun around. “you good?”

changbin slapped his chest twice, coughed like it was casual, like he had not just short-circuited over the mention of your name. “yeah,” he croaked. “just dry.”

lame. you are so lame.

“seriously?” felix echoed, leaning over to see. “whoa, she never does these kind of lineups.”

“right? i thought she was on a break,” chan said, tilting the screen toward them.

changbin did not look. he would not. could not. because if he saw your photo on that screen—cute, polished, probably surrounded by soft pastels and sparkles—he was going to lose it.

“she’s cool,” felix complimented.

“real earworm type,” seungmin squinted.

“no, it’s so fun! catchy stuff,” hyunjin rebuked.

changbin folded his arms tighter. “she’s fine,” he said. “not really my thing.”

they all turned to look at him.

“didn’t you hum her song last week in the car?” jisung squinted.

“i did not—”

“you did,” seungmin said. “it was the one with the glitter in the chorus.”

“it was ironic! for the bit!”

felix grinned. “sure, man.”

changbin clenched his jaw, already spiraling.

you were going to be there. you. you. the literal embodiment of soft pop princess perfection. and he was going to have to stand there like a normal person while his internal organs screamed and his brain played your entire discography on shuffle.

he could not meet you. he could not breathe near you. you probably smelled like strawberries and sparkles and he would spontaneously combust.

he needed a plan.

step one: do not freak out. step two: keep it cool. step three: delete the fan edits from his phone. immediately.

this was going to be tough.

it was fine.

he was fine.

it was just an event. you would be there. he would also be there. that was it. no reason to act like he had not memorised every syllable of your last album, or dramatically lip-synced and performed your choreography while your music videos were on the big screen when he thought no one was home.

he sat in the studio, headphones on, trying to finish a verse, but all he could hear was pink venom in my veins, got sugar on my tongue.

which was your lyric.

from an unreleased b-side.

not even a new single. he was doomed.

“you’re being weird,” minho said suddenly from the corner, not even looking up from his laptop.

changbin flinched. “what?”

“you keep sighing. like—long, emotional sighs.”

“i’m writing.”

“you’re spiraling.”

he was, but he would die before admitting it.

he buried his face in his hoodie and scrolled through his playlist. private playlist. the one named “do not open i swear to god.” the one filled with your discography, remixes, and one very sweet live recording that still made his chest ache with admiration and endearment.

he hovered over the delete button. hovered. then immediately locked his phone instead. coward.

he showed up to dance practice the next day in a black hoodie and darker sunglasses, hoping the vibe would disguise the panic in his bloodstream. jisung took one look at him and said, “you look like you’re going to cry or fight someone. what happened?”

“nothing,” changbin muttered.

“is this about the event?”

his soul left his body.

“what event,” he said. flat. monotone. suspicious.

chan raised an eyebrow from the mirror. “the one with that girl you like on the lineup?”

changbin did not answer. just stared into the distance like a man at war with himself.

the teasing was getting worse. felix had walked past him humming fairy tale fade this morning just to watch him twitch. hyunjin kept dropping “casual” mentions of your outfits. someone had set his phone background to a photo of you from your last tour.

he was not going to make it.

and worst of all, the event was tomorrow.

how could he mentally prepare for this in less than twenty four hours?

he had promised himself he would be normal.

that was the plan. normal. casual. a nod if you made eye contact. maybe a polite smile. definitely no staring. definitely no—

“hi!”

you.

you were there, in the flesh, walking into the backstage lounge like you were not the very same voice that had soundtracked his insomnia for the past year and a half.

changbin froze like his operating system had crashed. spine straight. jaw locked. soul hovering somewhere near the ceiling.

you were radiant. not even in a fancy way—just… bright. warm. clad in a soft sweater, butterfly clips in your hair, glitter on your nails and that voice, that voice, chirping out a sunny “hi!” like you had not just ruined his whole entire life by existing within a three-metre radius.

he did not speak.

you looked around the room, smiling politely at the stylists, exchanging greetings with a staff member. and then you looked at him.

eye contact?

oh god.

he nodded.

too fast. too stiff.

to be frank, he looked like he was trying to hold in a sneeze.

you smiled. waved a little. “you’re changbin, right?”

he opened his mouth.

no sound came out.

he panicked. “yeah.”

you laughed, soft and musical, and his brain nearly shorted out. “i really liked that freestyle you posted last month. the one in the stairwell?”

“...thanks.”

say more. say literally anything else. tell her she is the entire reason he believes in bridge sections. tell her he watched that one acoustic performance seventeen times and had feelings. tell her he—

“i like your sparkles,” he blurted.

you blinked. “my… sparkles?”

changbin briefly considered setting himself on fire.

“your nails. i meant. they’re… cool.”

a beat of silence.

then—your grin widened, eyes warm. “thank you. that’s really sweet.”

he felt his ears go red.

you turned to greet someone else and changbin turned slowly, silently, like a man who had just seen god and needed to go scream into a soundproof booth.

jeongin sidled up next to him. “you good?”

“no.”

“wanna sit down?”

“i cannot feel my legs.”

he was doing fine.

really.

his arms were crossed, shoulders tense, expression locked in neutral. the camera panned past him once and he didn’t flinch. what a miracle. he was the image of calm. no one would know he had sweated through two layers of clothing.

but then you came out.

spotlight. sparkles. glossed lips and a grin that lit the whole stage. your intro track rolled in—a dreamy, synthy swell—and the crowd screamed, but changbin couldn’t hear them. he could only hear you.

you were wearing that outfit, the one that had gone viral. and singing that song, the one he had once dramatically whispered into his studio mic at 3 a.m. when no one was around.

he swallowed.

he could do this. just nod along. casual. unimpressed. totally unbothered.

and then—then you looked at him.

not vaguely. directly. mid-chorus. you scanned the crowd, smiling like it was nothing, and your gaze hit his and held.

and he cracked.

just a tad.

his eyes widened. mouth parted. he shifted forward in his seat without realising. his foot tapped. his hand lifted like he might wave. he caught himself a second too late.

“...oh my god,” jisung whispered.

felix turned. jeongin blinked.

changbin snapped back in his seat, face burning. “what.”

“you just made eye contact with her,” chan muttered under his breath. “and then you smiled like a disney prince.”

“i did not.”

“bro,” hyunjin hissed, pointing. “you were glowing.”

he looked up again. you were still singing. still dazzling. still laughing between lines like you were having the time of your life.

and changbin? he was a man undone. hands clenched in his lap. heart clattering like a snare drum. every lyric felt personal. every beat synced with his pulse.

and in the back of his mind, one thought stuck deep inside like a hook caught to a fish:

he was so screwed.

after the overall performance portion had wrapped up, changbin was in hiding.

technically, he was resting behind the vending machine in the hallway next to the staff kitchen. but he was also very much hiding. curled in the shadows. hoodie up. heart still pounding from watching you sing like you had been summoning him personally.

he had survived the performance, barely. now he just had to survive the aftermath. he would wait five minutes, then sneak back to the dressing room and pretend he had been in the bathroom the whole time.

and then—

“found you.”

he jerked.

you leaned around the corner, lips glossed, cheeks still flushed from the stage. “you really are bad at hiding,” you teased.

he stood up too fast and nearly knocked over a folding chair.

“i was not— i was just— i was… stretching!”

you smiled like you could see straight through him.

“so,” you said, stepping closer. “did you like my set?”

“it was fine,” he said. voice deep, arms crossed. lying through his teeth.

you tilted your head. “only fine?”

he blinked. “i mean. yeah. like… it was energetic. or whatever.”

your grin sharpened. “hmm. must’ve been someone else who was making heart eyes at me from the third row.”

his whole face flared red.

“i was not—!”

“you were literally swaying.”

“that was muscle tension.”

“you mouthed every word.”

he covered his face with both hands. “please stop.”

you laughed, light and unbothered. “okay, okay,” you teased. “i’ll go easy on you.”

you paused.

then handed him your phone.

“here.”

he blinked down at it.

“what?”

“type your number.”

his brain stopped working. “...why?”

you shrugged. “in case i need a gym partner. or a rapper. or someone to teach me how to hide my fangirling poorly.”

he stared.

you nudged the phone into his hands.

he typed so fast he accidentally double-saved it with a heart. he panicked and tried to delete the heart but hit send instead.

you laughed again. “changbin, with a pink heart. you’re cute.”

he made a noise that could only be described as distressed victory. you winked and walked off, waving over your shoulder. “see you later, my fanboy.”

as soon as you disappeared around the corner, he exploded.

“oh my god,” he gasped. “oh my GOD.”

he sprinted back to the dressing room, burst in like a man on fire.

“GUYS—”

“you got her number, didn’t you,” seungmin said flatly, without looking up.

changbin flung himself on the couch, clutching his phone to his chest. “she called me HER fanboy and she SMILED and i think she WINKED and i do not know how to live anymore.”

“you’re being calm about this,” chan said mildly.

changbin shook his head. “i’m gonna marry her.”

the room exploded with teasing remarks. teasing changbin relentlessly? this was too good an opportunity to lose.

“you really are a fanboy huh?”

“support.”

“have you picked rings yet?”

“what’s the wedding dress code?”

“wonder what you’ll say on your first date”

changbin rolled over and screamed into a pillow.

soft changbin you have my heart for the rest of my lif

fic masterlist

taglist (ask to be added here): @burlesquerade @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo @m-325 @slut4junho @galgal-egg @queenofdumbfuckery

[mdanon027]

LEVELS

Pairing: Changbin x Producer!Reader Prompts: 14. Enemies to lovers tension , 18. “Don’t go. Not yet.” Setting: Studio, late-night session (REQUEST)

The beat had been looping for ten minutes.

You leaned back in the creaky desk chair, fingers tapping impatiently on your phone, trying not to sigh out loud. Across the studio, Changbin stood with his arms crossed, brow furrowed like the fate of his entire career rested on this one snare hit.

"You changed it," he said finally, not looking at you.

You didn’t flinch. “Yeah. The old one buried your vocals.”

"I liked the old one."

You turned to him slowly, meeting his eyes. “You like a lot of things that don't work in the final mix.”

Behind Changbin, Chan and Jisung froze. Chan was mid-sip of his energy drink. Jisung paused with a chip halfway to his mouth. Slowly, they turned to glance at each other—wide-eyed, silently communicating the shared pain of being stuck in the room during this again.

Changbin scoffed. “Right. Because you always know better.”

Your fingers tightened around the mouse. “You asked for feedback. Don’t whine when it’s not what you want to hear.”

From the couch, Jisung audibly inhaled like he was bracing for impact. “Uh… should I go warm up the other studio?”

Chan gave him a sharp look and whispered, “Don’t move. She’ll hear you.”

“I heard that,” you muttered, clicking back into the project.

Changbin stepped closer, ignoring the others. “I’m not whining. I’m disagreeing.”

Your chair creaked as you turned to him. “Then disagree. But don’t waste my time.”

He opened his mouth to fire back—but didn’t. Instead, his eyes flicked toward the screen behind you, watching the waveform quietly. His jaw ticked. You could practically feel the tension vibrating through the small room.

Chan shifted awkwardly. “…You guys want us to, uh, go get dinner or something?”

“No,” Changbin said at the same time you muttered, “Maybe.”

The quiet that followed was thick and awkward, broken only by the low looping beat and Jisung’s slow, cautious chip crunch.

Finally, Changbin mumbled, “I’m not trying to fight. Just… want it to sound right.”

You softened, slightly. “So do I.”

The tension didn’t dissolve—but it curled, subtle and strange. You felt his eyes on you even after he stepped back, like the last word hadn’t really been said yet.

Chan and Jisung gave each other another look—somewhere between “they’re hopeless” and “they’re definitely in love”—but wisely chose to say nothing.

Not yet, anyway.

The fluorescent lights in Studio B buzzed faintly as you sorted through vocal layers alone, trying to decompress from the earlier chaos. You didn’t expect anyone to follow you—definitely not him. But the door opened anyway, and in walked Changbin.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stood there with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes flickering around the room like he was still arguing with you in his head.

You didn’t look up. “What?”

“I didn’t like how that ended.”

You tapped the spacebar a little too hard, stopping the track. “What, us fighting in front of your members? Yeah, not my favorite either.”

He scoffed. “I wasn’t the only one with an attitude.”

Now you looked at him. Really looked. His brows were furrowed, mouth set, but something behind his eyes looked…off. Like he wasn’t here to pick another fight, but didn’t know how to do anything else.

“Well, I guess that’s what happens when someone acts like they know everything about production because they’ve been in a booth a few times,” you said, voice clipped.

“That’s not fair,” he snapped. “I’ve been working on my own music longer than you’ve been at this company.”

“And yet,” you muttered, turning back to your screen, “you’re still in my studio.”

The silence that followed wasn’t loud—but it was full. Heavy with things neither of you would say out loud. Not yet.

He moved behind you then, not close, but enough that you could feel the weight of his presence. Close enough that the silence shifted into something else entirely.

“You’re good at what you do,” he said, voice lower. “I just hate when you act like you’re the only one who cares.”

You didn’t reply at first. You couldn’t.

Because the thing was—you did care. A lot. And so did he.

You just showed it by keeping everything tight. Professional. Controlled. While he pushed back, challenged you, pressed into every soft spot like he was trying to find the line you wouldn’t cross.

And maybe this was it. Or maybe not yet.

“I’m going home,” you said eventually, standing.

But before you could grab your bag, his voice cut in, sharp.

“Running off again?”

You met his eyes. “I’m not running. I just know when to leave before something gets said that can’t be taken back.”

This time, he didn’t stop you.

But he didn’t leave either.

“Let’s try that one more time, Jeongin-ah. You were a little ahead of the beat, but the tone was great.”

Your voice was softer now, warm and patient, the exact opposite of the sharpness it carried yesterday.

Jeongin, standing in the booth with his headphones around his neck, grinned sheepishly. “My bad, noona. I’ll get it this time.”

Changbin was across the room, leaned back on the couch, jaw tight.

He hadn’t meant to show up today, but Chan had asked all of 3RACHA to sit in on vocal comp sessions to help shape the new track. He didn’t expect you to be here, running the session.

He also didn’t expect to feel like this—on edge, watching you be kind. Just not to him.

Hyunjin stepped in next and you lit up a little, laughing quietly as he teased you about coffee orders and pitch correction. Felix arrived mid-session, bringing iced Americanos for everyone and getting a shoulder pat from you in thanks.

It was the same smile. The same voice. But something about it twisted inside him.

He hadn’t seen you smile like that at him in weeks.

Or maybe you never had.

“You want to add anything here?” Chan asked, nudging Changbin with his shoulder.

He snapped out of it. “What?”

Chan gave him a look. “You’ve been zoning out since Jeongin started. You alright?”

“Fine,” Changbin muttered. “It’s fine.”

You didn’t even glance over.

He hated that he noticed. Hated that it mattered.

Because the moment he raised his voice to you, everything changed—and now, you were polite. Civil. Friendly, even.

To everyone but him.

The session wrapped smoothly, and you gave each member clear notes and encouraging feedback, lingering in the booth with Felix a bit longer while he asked about his vocal placement.

Changbin stayed seated. Didn’t move. Just watched.

And when you finally turned off the mic and began packing up your laptop, your eyes met his for the briefest second.

Cool. Flat. Professional.

Then they moved on, like he wasn’t even there.

Studio A – Two Days Later

The door creaked open as you adjusted the mic stand, glancing up just as Seungmin walked in.

“Hey,” you said, giving him a small nod. “We’ll warm up with the second verse—don’t overthink the run at the end, it sounded clean last take.”

“Got it,” Seungmin replied, setting his water down and slipping on the headphones. He was always easy to work with—calm, focused, sharp. There was a quiet rhythm to your sessions together that didn’t need much fuss.

You clicked the track into play and leaned back in your chair, jotting down timestamps.

From the corner of the room, Changbin’s voice cut through. “He was flat on ‘breathe.’ Let’s take it again.”

You paused the track, head tilting. “I was going to do another take anyway.”

“But he’s flat,” Changbin said again, arms crossed, irritation already simmering behind his words.

Seungmin glanced between the two of you, lips pressed together like he knew where this was headed.

“He’s barely flat,” you countered, voice cool. “A little vocal warmth in that line sounds better than forcing it clean.”

Changbin’s laugh was dry. “Since when do we settle for barely?”

You blinked at him. “Since it fits the tone. Since it’s a creative choice. Since—”

“You’re ignoring technical flaws.”

“And you’re micromanaging.”

Silence settled over the room. Seungmin slowly slipped the headphones off, sensing it wasn’t his place to mediate.

Chan and Jisung were off in another studio today, and there was no one here to stop this one from unraveling.

“I’m just trying to make the song better,” Changbin muttered.

Your hands curled into fists, but your voice stayed even. “No, you’re trying to win something that doesn’t exist.”

He stiffened. You could see it—the way his jaw clenched, the way his eyes flicked away like he didn’t want you to see what that line landed.

But you did. You saw it all.

You turned back to the board. “Seungmin, take five.”

He nodded quietly and stepped out.

The door shut behind him, and the silence that followed wasn’t just uncomfortable—it was personal.

“You never fight like this with anyone else,” Changbin said finally, voice low.

You didn’t turn. “Maybe because no one else turns every session into a battle.”

He stepped closer, tension radiating off him. “Or maybe you save the worst of you for me.”

You slowly turned your chair toward him, eyes narrowing. “You really want to go there right now?”

He looked at you, mouth opening like he had something else to say—but nothing came out. Just that same storm behind his eyes, one you weren’t sure either of you had the words to weather.

The studio was behind you, but his voice was still in your head.

You sat on the floor of your apartment, the light from your laptop casting pale shadows on the wall as your unfinished notes for the track blinked up at you. You hadn’t touched them since getting home.

Every little thing about today kept looping. The way Changbin looked at you like you were the one sabotaging things. Like he couldn’t separate you from the producer role. Like he didn’t want to.

You dropped your head into your hands, exhaling sharply.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Working with Stray Kids had been one of the most creatively fulfilling experiences of your career. But lately, it felt like every session with him chipped away at your confidence—at your patience. It wasn’t just professional disagreement anymore. It was personal. He made it personal.

A soft ping pulled you from your thoughts. A message from Chan.

hey, everything okay? you left kinda fast.

You hesitated, fingers hovering over the keys.

Then, another ping.

we want you here. the rest of us do. i do too. just… talk to me if you’re thinking of walking.

You didn’t respond. Not yet. You weren’t even sure what to say.

Because part of you was thinking about walking. Not because you wanted to quit, but because staying meant seeing him again. Fighting him again. And somewhere along the way, you’d stopped being sure if this friction was something you could work through—or something that had already broken too much.

You closed the laptop.

Maybe you just needed time. Maybe you needed distance.

But if Changbin noticed your silence tomorrow—or the next day, or the day after that—he’d know it wasn’t about the music anymore.

It was about him.

You arrived ten minutes early. Not to be productive. Just to breathe.

The studio lights were a little too bright, the coffee a little too bitter, and your reflection in the glass of the booth looked like someone else entirely. Still you—but muted. Quieter.

When the door opened and Changbin walked in, you didn’t even flinch.

"Morning," he said, cautiously.

You nodded. "Morning."

That was it.

The rest of the group trickled in slowly. Seungmin was first, offering a small smile your way. Chan and Han followed, already in mid-conversation about edits from the night before. When Hyunjin asked how you were, you said "good" and nothing else.

And when Changbin started talking through the plan for the day—tempo tweaks, layering ideas, minor adjustments to Seungmin’s part—you simply nodded. Took notes. Said, “Got it,” in the softest voice imaginable.

No pushback. No counters. No fire.

Chan glanced up from his laptop. Han did too.

Even Jeongin, who was just passing through with a banana milk in hand, paused and looked between you and Changbin.

The silence after one of Changbin’s notes stretched too long.

“Y/N?” he asked.

You blinked once, pulling yourself back. “That’s fine. Let’s go with that.”

“…Really?” There was something off in his tone.

You gave a small smile. “Yeah.”

He stared at you like he didn’t recognize you. Like your body had been taken over by someone else.

When Seungmin came in to record, you didn’t follow the usual back-and-forth. Just quietly adjusted levels, nodded at the right moments, and told him he sounded great. Even when he flubbed a note.

Seungmin looked uneasy. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said. Then added, “Let’s move on.”

You felt eyes on you the entire time. Mostly his.

Changbin’s voice was strained when he finally said, “We’re taking a break.”

No one argued.

You stood, turning away to tidy up some cords, not because they needed it—just to avoid his eyes.

Behind you, you heard him say it—low and frustrated.

“She’s not fighting anymore.”

And then Chan, quieter: “Yeah. That’s the problem.”

A break was needed. Where would be better than the studio breakroom? You didn’t hear him come in, but you knew it was him. The air always shifted with Changbin. Dense. Unsettled.

“Y/N.”

You didn’t respond. Not right away. Just kept staring into your coffee cup like it held the answers to everything you didn’t want to say out loud.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said. “Not with you pretending like nothing’s wrong.”

You finally looked up, but your expression was unreadable. “There’s nothing wrong. We’re working. That’s all we’ve ever done, right?”

He looked pained. “You’re not even trying to hide it anymore.”

“Hide what?” you snapped. “That I’m tired? That every time I open my mouth in a session, you shut me down or talk over me? You made me feel like shit in front of your members, Changbin. Constantly. And now you wanna have a heart-to-heart like none of that happened?”

His mouth opened, then closed. His fists clenched at his sides. “That’s not what I meant to do.”

“But you did it anyway.”

“I know,” he growled, frustrated. “I know I messed up, but that doesn’t change—” He stopped himself, voice catching before pushing forward. “It doesn’t change the fact that I love you.”

You blinked, stunned—but it didn’t land sweet. It felt heavy. Messy.

You laughed once, bitter. “You love me? Is that what this has been? Belittling me in front of everyone, picking fights, acting like I don’t know what I’m doing? That’s how you show love?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you—”

“But you did,” you cut in. “So what am I supposed to do with that? Just pretend it didn’t matter because you’ve decided now you’re in love with me?”

He stepped closer, but you held your ground.

“I’m not asking you to pretend,” he said, quieter now. “I just… I didn’t know how to handle it. The way I felt about you. I was stupid. I thought pushing you away would make it easier.”

You scoffed. “And did it?”

“No,” he admitted. “It made everything worse. Especially now that you won’t even look at me like you used to.”

You paused, jaw tightening. “I can’t forget how you made me feel.”

“I don’t want you to forget,” he said. “I want to earn it back. Every piece I broke.”

The silence stretched.

You looked away first, arms folding protectively across your chest. “I don’t trust you. Not yet.”

“I know,” he said, voice softer than you’d ever heard. “But don’t go. Not yet.”

You hesitated. Your hands tightened around your coffee cup.

“I’ll stay,” you said, barely above a whisper. “But only if you mean what you said—and if you’re ready to prove it.”

“I will,” he said without blinking. “Whatever it takes.”

Recording Studio – A Few Days Later

You hadn’t said much since that night. Not more than necessary. You showed up on time, prepped the session, and avoided looking at Changbin for too long. But he was there—already in the booth, headphones on, waiting for your cue.

Chan, Han, and Seungmin sat nearby, eyes flicking between the two of you like spectators waiting for the bell to ring.

You clicked the talkback mic. “Okay, Changbin. Let’s try verse two again.”

His eyes met yours through the glass, and instead of the usual nod and go, he… smiled. Genuinely. No sarcasm, no smugness.

“Got it, Y/N.”

You blinked. It was the first time in months he’d said your name without a bite.

He rapped the verse cleaner this time—focused, grounded. You let it finish before pressing the mic again.

“Good take,” you said. “But maybe try softening that last word. You’re punching it too hard for the tone.”

“Right,” he said immediately. “You’re right. I’ll do that.”

The room went still.

Jisung blinked. Chan raised his eyebrows. Even Seungmin looked up from his phone.

“Did he just—agree with her?” Jisung whispered to Chan.

“She didn’t have to fight him,” Seungmin added, stunned.

You ignored them, staring at the console, pretending your heart wasn’t skipping weirdly in your chest.

Another take. Another clean pass. No arguing. Just him listening.

When he came out of the booth, you stepped back to give him space. But he stopped next to you, one hand resting on the console, the other lightly brushing your notebook aside to glance at your notes.

“Thanks,” he said, softly. “You always know how to fix it.”

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. He was so close, the studio lights painting shadows under his eyes.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Well…someone’s gotta make you sound good.”

He chuckled. Low, warm.

Jisung looked between you two, then stage-whispered to Chan, “Are they flirting or are we hallucinating?”

“You’re not hallucinating,” Chan muttered, rubbing his temple. “I don’t know what’s happening either.”

You tried not to smile as you turned back to the console. But when Changbin brushed past you—shoulder grazing yours—it lingered.

Something had changed.

And you weren’t sure what it was yet.

But for once, it didn’t feel like war.

[mdanon027]

Only you

Stray Kids Lee Know x reader

Summary: Lee Know dislikes everyone—except you—and his quiet actions prove it.

Word count: 599

Everyone at the company knew Lee Know didn’t like people.

He wasn’t rude—at least not intentionally—but he didn’t do small talk, didn’t smile just to be polite, and didn’t bother pretending to like someone if he didn’t.

So when you joined the choreography team and he started offering you water after practices, everyone noticed.

And when he waited for you to finish packing up before leaving—even if it meant sitting in the corner with his hood up, pretending not to watch you—your coworkers whispered.

You tried not to read into it too much. Minho was blunt, sure, but he wasn’t cold. Maybe he was just being… decent.

But then one afternoon, as you sat in the practice room tying your shoe, a loud trainee burst in, obnoxiously chewing gum and joking way too loud for a Monday. You winced as his voice echoed through the studio.

Minho’s jaw ticked.

“You don’t need to be in here,” he told the guy flatly.

The trainee blinked. “Huh?”

Minho stood up, arms crossed. “We’re using the room. Come back later.”

“It’s just five minutes—”

“Out,” Minho said, voice sharp. His eyes flicked to you, and something unreadable passed over his face.

The trainee left without another word.

You blinked up at him, startled. “You didn’t have to do that…”

He shrugged, avoiding your eyes. “He was annoying.”

“You literally train with him.”

“Doesn’t mean I like him.”

You laughed softly. “Do you like anyone?”

He hesitated for half a second. “Just one person.”

That made your heart skip. But you played dumb, tugging the laces of your shoe a little tighter. “Yeah? Who’s the unlucky one?”

Minho didn’t answer right away. Instead, he walked over and crouched in front of you, fingers gently pushing yours away as he redid your messy knot with expert precision.

“You always rush this,” he murmured. “No wonder you trip.”

Your breath caught.

He tied the last loop and looked up, gaze steady, serious.

“I don’t like people,” he said again. “But you’re not people.”

You swallowed. “What does that make me, then?”

His lip twitched in the faintest smile. “Something else.”

A beat of silence passed. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Minho—”

He stood up quickly, brushing invisible dust from his sweats. “Let’s go get food before practice starts again. My treat.”

“…You hate eating with people.”

“I said you’re not people.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

He didn’t take your hand or hold the door open or say anything particularly sweet. But he walked beside you, shoulders nearly brushing, and made sure you didn’t trip over the studio threshold.

That was Lee Know’s love language.

And it was loud enough for you to hear.

[mdanon027]

go ask your father!

pairing: lee minho x reader tags: drabble. domestic fluff. part of the emmieverse special—see here

minho is halfway through folding the freshly dried clothing in the laundry room when he hears it: the unmistakable chorus of tiny, judgmental meows.

he glances down. three pairs of eyes stare up at him like he is personally responsible for the downfall of society.

“what,” he asks flatly, holding up a pair of your socks.

soonie meows again—loud and mournful—and doongie rubs against his shin like he is trying to awaken guilt. dori simply stares. always watching. always planning.

“i fed you. i scooped your litter. i gave you those weird snacks you like,” minho lists, bending to scratch doongie’s head. “what else do you want, huh?”

they do not answer. they simply exist at him.

until—

the sound of the front door unlocking echoes from the other side of the house.

everything changes.

soonie bolts first, nearly slipping on the hallway rug. doongie trots after him with poise, and dori makes his usual dramatic entrance: meowing as if he just survived war.

minho snorts, shaking his head.

“traitors.”

you barely have one foot inside before you are surrounded.

“hi, my babies,” you coo, crouching down to pet them as they swirl around you in a furry storm. “missed me that much?”

minho stands at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, a hopeless little smile tugging at his mouth. the sight of his babies loving on you like this never gets old.

“they’ve been moping around like your absence broke each of their hearts,” he says, slowly approaching you from where he stood.

you grin at him. “maybe it did.”

he leans to kiss you hello, warm hands settling on your waist like they never want to leave. “well i missed you more,” he murmurs.

“i would hope so,” you quipped. you melt into his embrace for a beat, then pull back. “i’m starving.”

“same,” he agrees. “want me to start on—”

“i got it,” you wave his offer off, stepping into the kitchen. the cats follow after you immediately, falling into formation like little soldiers of chaos. they may as well be magnetised to you.

you open the fridge, eyeing them. “you just want food, huh?”

meows follow. of course they do.

you point down the hallway vaguely to where you left minho standing. “then go ask your father.”

there is a pause.

then three sets of paws patpatpat down the hall like a furry stampede. when they don’t find him near the entryway, they search the house.

not in the living room…

not in the bedroom…

….he’s in the laundry room again!

minho, in the middle of matching your sock pairs again, looks up just in time for the interrogation squad to arrive.

they meow. in sync.

he blinks. “did you—did they actually—”

from the kitchen, you call: “i delegated!”

minho just laughs, setting the socks aside to kneel on the floor like a medieval servant to his royal court.

“you guys are whipped.”

soonie hops in his lap. doongie starts purring. dori knocks over a cup.

minho sighs, grinning. “yeah, yeah. i’ll feed you. but only because your mother’s scary when she’s hungry.”

from the kitchen, you call once more: “i heard that!”

he smiles to himself, completely gone for this weird little family of his.

and for the record, the cats get fed first.

he knows his place.

tysm anon! i love writing lee know soft….. soft domestic lee know and i are married now

taglist (ask to be added here): @burlesquerade @makeitworse @petersasteria @gdinthehouseee @aizshallnotbefound @floofeh-purpi @ldydeath @wcnderlnds @ttturnitup @breakmeoff @sherrayyyyy @ricecake9999 @leni111 @scream-queen-25 @spiritualgirly444 @fairyprincesslvr21 @loonybunny1 @uuchii @sherxoo @m-325 @slut4junho

[mdanon027]

- that’s when you happened

PAIRING: changbin x reader

GENRE: fluff; established relationship

WC: 1.2k

CW: mentions of alcohol; reader being drunk

SUMMARY: while walking home with your boyfriend, your drunken mind confesses somethings that make your boyfriend fall more in love with you

it was past midnight and you were close to your house now. only three blocks away. the problem was that the shots you had taken before still had an effect on you, so what could normally be a 5 minute walk, was going to be at least 10 minutes now. especially with the high heels you had decided to wear tonight. past you hadn’t really thought about all this. future you was going to regret this. a lot.

you sighed, sinking deeper into changbin’s side. he had his hand pressed protectively and securely around your waist. he hadn’t had as many drinks as you, so he was the responsible one out of the two of you, the one in charge of making sure you made it home in one piece. not as easy as everyone would think.

“would you still love me if i was a worm?” you drunkenly asked him

“what?” he couldn’t help but laugh your question

“if one day you woke up and saw that i was not a person anymore and that i had suddenly turned into a very small and colourful worm, would you still love me?” you asked him again, more elaborate this time

“why small and colourful?”

“changbin!” you hit his chest

“okay okay” he laughed at your reaction

you knew you were not in your right mind but still, you wanted to know his answer. you had seen it on tiktok or something and made a mental note to ask him the question at some point. it seems like your drunk brain decided the right moment was now.

“if one day i woke up and saw that you had turned into a small and colourful worm, i would still love you with all my heart. i would keep you in my pocket and then take you everywhere with me, so we would always be together”

you stopped walking after hearing his answer. you looked at him and started crying. maybe it was all the drinking from before what made you react like this, but you didn’t care. his answer made you really emotional all of a sudden.

“oh changbin” you threw yourself at him. luckily he was able to catch you, with his arms around your back and yours around his neck.

“it’s okay love, don’t cry please” he laughed while trying to get you to stop from crying

“babe that was so beautiful, i would love you too if you were a worm as well”

“i’m glad love” he replied laughing

“we could be worms together, we would be the cutest worm couple in the world” you told him through laughs and tears

“i’m sure we would babe”

you pulled apart from him and a sudden wave of tiredness hit you.

“i’m tired, please carry me home” you put your arms up towards him like a small child.

he laughed at you and with a smile adorning his face, he crouched in front of you so you could get on his back. once you were secured, with your arms wrapped around his neck and yours legs around his waist, he started walking towards your house again. the weather was starting to get a bit colder, but you would be home soon.

you sighed, leaning your head against his neck, letting the air relax you a bit. the only sound that could be heard on the street was his steps against the pavement. the rest of the world was quiet. like you two were the only people awake and living at that moment. you felt content.

“i remember the day i fell in love with you” you suddenly said

“you do?” he asked you

“i do, it was the day when we celebrated chan’s birthday in his new dorm with jeongin”

“but that’s the first time we met”

“exactly”

“there’s no way you fell in love the first time we met” he told you a bit sceptically

“yes i did! i remember walking into their dorm, and seeing you standing there and you were just so beautiful and had such bright eyes and a big smile that i was instantly taken back” you couldn’t stop the words from leaving your mouth. not that you didn’t want him to know, it was just your drunk mind had decided to spill every single thought you had ever had.

“and then you introduced yourself and i felt something inside me, like i had known you my entire life, even though i knew we had just met” you continued

“well it’s true that we didn’t separate from each other that night” he said

“and we haven’t separated ever since” you smiled brightly, leaning your head against his neck more.

he continued walking you both, this time in silence while enjoying each other’s company. changbin could feel his heart growing bigger and what you had just confessed. he knew that you loved him with everything you had, but still, these quiet moments, these special corners of your heart, always managed to leave him speechless. he couldn’t believe how lucky he was that he had found you and had you in his life. he hoped he could have you forever.

you had almost arrived to your house when you, half-asleep, said: “i would go back to the night we met a thousand times if it meant that i would meet you every time”

perhaps it was the quiet of the night, or the magic that surrounded you two, but your confession managed to bring tears to his eyes. your love for each other was always there, it was safe, it was home.

a blush fell over his cheeks, but you couldn’t see it. however, you could feel how in love with you he was. how he would always keep you safe and do everything he could to make you happy. you had found love right where you were and there was no way you would ever lose that.

you arrived to your house, although you didn’t notice until he put you down and you felt the fresh, new sheets you had put on your bed that morning. you felt the warmth of your room, the moonlight that had managed to get through your curtains, his hand leaving your back and legs only to take off your shoes and help you to take the rest of your clothes off and put your pyjamas on.

once you both were ready for bed, he got under the sheets with you, placing your head on his chest and placing both his arms around your back to keep you safe against with him.

you had fallen asleep already but changbin didn’t want to sleep, not yet at least. he kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there for a bit before he moved them to the top of your head, leaving another kiss there.

he swore you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. he could feel himself falling in love with you more every day that you spent together. he had been so close to packing it up until you happened.

he looked at you and could almost see the starts in your lashes with the reflection of the moonlight. his arms were tracing soft patterns against your back, like lulling you to continue sleeping, peacefully, with him. where you should always be.

before he fell asleep, he brushed a stray lock of hair from your eyes while he softly said: “i swear that i wasn’t looking for someone, but that’s when you happened”

[mdanon027]

[mdanon027]

EPISODE 1: HELP! MY HOT GIRLFRIEND CAUGHT ME CRYING AFTER GIVING HEAD! (NOT CLICKBAIT)

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

jisung thought tutoring the hottest girl on campus would ruin his GPA— not his pants. one month later, he’s somehow getting called ‘pretty’ mid-thrust and offering you pocky as a post-orgasm snack.

pairing: nerd!han jisung x popular!f!reader, established relationship genre/tags: college au, smut, fluff, jisung is a loser with a capital L, humor sprinkled in bc i’m unserious asf, lots of references to anime and other dumb stuff, lowkey perv!jisung, dry humping, oral (f. receiving), piv, protected s*x, kinda subby!jisung but he’s still a whore lol words: 5.4k (wasn’t expecting it to be this long… guess i yap too much)

[ note. ] — i had to make another nerd!ji fic bc i literally cannot stop thinking about him 😣 feel free to read my other fic for more context since it’s set in the same universe but i wanted to make a smut ver so here we areeee <33 also, i will be making more parts eventually, hence why it’s labeled as ‘episode 1’ so stay tuned for more !

Jisung thought for sure that was going to die a virgin. Not in a sad, self-loathing kind of way, but more in a “yeah, that checks out,” kind of way. The type of peaceful resignation one might have while unplugging a broken router for the eighth time before crying into a bowl of instant ramen. Because guys like him— guys who quoted Dragon Ball Z unironically, who panicked when girls sat next to them in lecture halls, who built custom keyboards for fun and screamed at League. They didn’t date girls like you.

And they most definitely didn’t sleep with girls like you.

Still, that didn’t keep him from fantasizing. Constantly, shamelessly, unhingedly.

He’d never known what it felt like to have warm walls wrapped around his cock. Never heard those broken whines girls in hentai would make— unless he counted the ones he accidentally let out when he edged himself too long. His hand was simply never enough, no matter how many times he convinced himself he could “recreate the pressure.”

The bottle of lotion and box of tissues on his nightstand weren’t even hidden anymore— they sat like holy relics beside his gaming PC, ready for immediate access the second he closed League and opened incognito mode.

Porn never fully satisfied his craving though, he always wanted more. Even the best JAV compilation or doujinshi fan dub couldn’t compare to the real sickness consuming his brain: you.

You, with the glossy Instagram that he scrolled through like it was the damn Louvre. You, wearing micro bikinis in pool selfies with captions like ‘hot girl summer’ while he rots in bed, sweating and crying at the curvature of your ass.

You, biting your glittery, gel pen in class, leaning across the desk to ask for help, accidentally flashing a glimpse of cleavage so dangerous it made him pause mid-equation like he got hit with a stun grenade. Stalking your Instagram, seeing you in the tiniest baby tees and mini skirts. It was the perfect gooner material.

He’d stroke himself under the covers while biting a t-shirt to keep quiet, muttering your name between gasps like he was summoning a spirit. Fantasies playing out in his head that ranged from soft and romantic— like kissing you breathless during office hours— to completely feral, like bending you over his anime pillow while you called him “pretty boy” and ruined his life.

It didn’t help that you flirted with him now.

That you asked him to tutor you.

That you sat so close during study sessions he could sense your perfume from a mile away and taste the salt from the fries you always stole off his plate.

You laughed at his jokes, called him cute, even once said he had “nice hands,” and he nearly evaporated on the spot. Had to excuse himself to the bathroom with a boner and a prayer.

Every night ended the same. Him, fisting his cock in pathetic desperation at the thought of your pussy swallowing him whole, whispering ‘please’ like a man on the verge of religious enlightenment.

And every night, after he came all over his own stomach, out of breath and guilt-ridden, he’d sigh dramatically and say,

“I’m going to die alone. I know it. I’ll be the guy with the Zero Two body pillow and the unopened condom pack from 2017 that he keeps in case of a miracle.”

He did not, under any circumstances, expect you to be that miracle.

Never in a million years did he think he’d actually have a chance, let alone be dating you. You were just too perfect. The literal girl of his dreams.

Popular. Gorgeous. Cool in the kind of way that made any and everyone want to be around you without knowing why. You had that magnetic charm about you, an easily contagious laugh, a confident stride when you walk, and that dangerous habit of licking your lip gloss mid-sentence like you were in a CW drama.

And yet, somehow, here he was, currently horizontal on his bed, shirtless, breathless, with you on top of him wearing his oversized Bleach t-shirt and not much else, grinning like you’d just won first place in a science fair and a dance battle.

“Are you glitching?” You asked, poking his cheek. “Do I need to unplug you and plug you back in?”

“I- uh- w-what? No- yes? No.” He stuttered like every word had just magically left his vocabulary, he was definitely malfunctioning.

You laughed, head dropping onto his bare chest as he laid stiff as a board, arms hovering midair like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you even now. Even after dating you for a whole month.

“A month,” he whispered, still stunned by the timeline. “That’s like… thirty days of you voluntarily being seen with me.”

“Thirty one,” you corrected, lifting your head to smirk down at him. “Don’t forget the bonus day where you kissed me in front of the vending machine and the entire basketball team clapped.”

“I thought I was going to throw up.”

“You looked like you did throw up.”

Jisung covered his face with both hands and groaned.

God, he still didn’t know how this happened. When you had asked him to tutor you in stats, he assumed you were just kidding— or high. But you weren’t. You’d actually shown up. You’d flirted, sat on his lap one time when all the seats were taken at the library, and then acted like it was no big deal while his soul left his body.

And now here you were. Straddling him. Teasing him. Literally wearing his t-shirt with the anime print on it and calling him “baby” in the kind of voice that should be illegal.

“You’re so tense, Sungie,” you murmur, lightly dragging your fingers down his chest. “I know you like it when I touch you. You make these cute little gasps like a baby bird.”

“I-I don’t sound like a baby bird,” he mumbled, absolutely sounding like a baby bird.

You leaned down, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“Chirp.”

Jisung squeaked.

You lost it, giggling into his neck while he covered his blushy face with a pillow. “Oh my god, stopp- why are you like this- why did you choose me,”

“Because you’re smart, and sweet, and you get all flustered when I call you hot. And because,” you sat up again, hips rolling ever so slightly and watching his pupils blow wide as you rocked against his clothed erect, “you say things like ‘This is just like my fanfic’ under your breath and then deny it.”

He groaned at the sudden friction, arms falling limp at his sides. “You heard that?”

“Babe, I hear everything. Like right now, I can hear how bad you want me to ride you.” You bit your lip, feeling your wetness growing at a rapid pace as you continuously grind on him.

Jisung whimpered. “Okay. I- this is really happening, right? This isn’t like, some kind of VR dream or like a… cursed hentai plotline where I wake up and you’re actually a sentient toaster?”

You blinked. “What the hell kind of anime are you watching?”

He slapped a hand over his eyes. “Nevermind, pretend I didn’t say that..”

You kissed him then. Slowly. Tenderly. Like you had all the time in the world and like you couldn’t believe your luck either. Because yeah, you were the cool girl, but Jisung was the first guy who actually listened when you talked. Who remembered your favorite boba order. Who’d stayed up until 3 am tutoring you and still walked you to your dorm with sleepy, nerdy affection twinkling in his eyes.

So yeah, you were gonna roast him forever— but you were also gonna ruin him tonight.

“Hey, baby,” you whispered, reaching down to tug his sweatpants lower.

Jisung was in the midst of catching his breath like he’d just run a marathon. “Y-yeah?”

“After I make you cum, will you tell me all about the sentient toaster anime?”

“…Maybe.”

+

“Okay,” Jisung panted, curling into your side like a baby koala clinging to its mother, “that was better than every hentai I’ve ever seen.”

You snorted into his shoulder. “High praise coming from the man who owns a $300 body pillow.”

“She was limited edition!” He quickly defends himself.

You playfully roll your eyes, kissing his flushed cheek. “So are you, Sungie. So are you.”

And yeah, Jisung still thought he was going to die a virgin once upon a time.

But now, wrapped in your arms with kiss marks littering his neck and your laughter still echoing in his ears— he was just really, really glad that he’s been proven wrong.

+

The moment you straddled Jisung and kissed him again, something shifted in the room.

And not just him having an outer-body experience for the sixth time in an hour.

You pulled back from his lips to look around, and the first thing you said was, “Okay, I have to say it- your room is the most aggressively virgin-coded space I’ve ever been in.”

“I told you not to look too closely!” He whined, burying his face into your neck as you giggled and craned to inspect the chaos surrounding you.

“Let’s see…” you started ticking things off on your imaginary list. “Anime wall scrolls? Check. Neon RGB light strips that make your room look like a gaming dungeon? Check. Is that Hatsune Miku in a glass case next to middle school spelling bee trophies?”

He groaned. “They’re collector’s items—”

“You were runner-up in 8th grade and you framed it.”

“I peaked early, okay?!”

You laughed so hard you fell forward onto his chest. “I love you.”

He froze. “Wh-what?”

You blinked. “I said I love you.”

He looked like you’d just offered him a lifetime supply of ramen and also stabbed him in the heart.

“…I love you too,” he whispered, barely getting it out before he hid under the covers.

You tugged the blanket back down just enough to see his red face. “Hey. Don’t hide. I wanna see you. Look so pretty when you blush.”

“PRETTY?!” He yelped.

You nodded in confirmation, brushing hair off his forehead. “Mmhm. Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen. Especially like this- messy hair, pink cheeks, all breathless under me…”

He made the most broken noise you’d ever heard.

His hands gripped your hips like he didn’t know what to do with them, like he was trying not to crush you or himself with how desperate he felt. His eyes were dark now, glazed and locked onto your every move as you slowly ground against the bulge in his sweats.

“This is real, right?” He meant to ask that in his head but blurted it out instead, voice slightly cracking. “This is really happening?”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “Feels pretty real to me, baby.”

At this point Jisung was spiraling.

Not just emotionally. No, that happened daily.

This was a full-system shutdown.

You’d tugged your shirt off without warning and smiled down at him like it was the most casual thing in the world, and now his hands were hovering awkwardly mid-air like he wasn’t sure if he had permission to touch you or if he was being Punk’d by the gods of horny delusion.

Your skin. Your smile. Your fucking tits.

And worse— worse— as your fingers brushed through his messy brown locks and your thighs shifted over his hips, his brain suddenly screamed,

‘I can’t believe I’m about to get pussy before Jeongin.’

Jeongin, his slightly cooler, slightly taller, still-a-virgin roommate who had three rotating Discord kittens and a suspicious amount of cologne but somehow still never scored.

Jeongin, who walked around shirtless after push-up sessions and said things like “it’s not rizz, it’s charisma” unironically. Jeongin, who once said “I want my first time to be passionate and respectful” but also accidentally downloaded a virus trying to pirate a hentai dating sim.

Jisung had always assumed if one of them was gonna make it out of virginhood first, it’d be the guy with the Uzumaki clan symbol tattooed on his ribs and a social life.

But no.

It was him. Han Jisung. The guy who owned a limited-edition anime titty mousepad and squeaked like a kettle when a girl touched his arm. And now? You were grinding up against him slowly, teasingly, and he was barely clinging to reality.

“Y/n,” he whimpered, clutching your waist like you’d float away. “Can I- can I eat you out? Pleasepleaseplease.”

You blinked rapidly.

“…You wanna—?”

“So bad,” he choked. “I think about it all the time. Like in class. And when I watch those ‘how to’ videos online. Like, the diagram ones, not the porn ones, though I watched those too- but like educationally! For science!”

You stared blankly.

He was sweating.

“Okay,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You’re really cute when you beg, y’know that?”

He nearly ascended.

You barely had time to giggle before he flipped you gently onto your back, hair falling into his eyes as he ducked down between your thighs like a man on a mission from God. His hands trembled as he slid your shorts down, breath hitching at the sight of your soaked panties.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out. “It’s real.”

You snorted. “What were you expecting? A hologram?”

“I don’t know!” He cried. “I was starting to believe you were some kind of high-level succubus sent to punish virgins.”

You cupped his flushed face. “Wouldn’t be the worst punishment.”

And then he locks in— eyes meeting yours as he sticks his tongue out, licking a long, fat stripe across your clothed slit. Soft. Slow. As if he was trying to memorize you with his tongue, the heat of it makes you jolt. He’s not just tasting you— he’s learning you, tracing intricate patterns with his tongue like he’s trying to decode you one flick at a time. Every motion is precise yet hungry, like he’s writing a love letter in Morse code directly to your pussy. His glasses slipping adorably down the bridge of his nose, solely focused on pleasing you.

You gasped at the feel of him against you, the pressure of his mouth sent heat curling low in your belly, it was torture. Too much and not enough. You needed to feel him without the barrier of soaked lace clinging to your folds, and he must’ve read your mind, because he groaned like he was the one being denied. He kissed your pussy like he was thanking it, mouthing over your clothed core before dragging open-mouthed kisses across your inner thighs, leaving your skin slick with spit and bites to your inner thighs. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip, everything about him felt so warm.

His teeth grazed you— playful, hungry— and your hips twitched as he whispered something nasty under his breath, half to himself, half to your cunt. By the time he slid your panties down, your thighs were trembling, tossing the flimsy fabric aside carelessly, like he didn’t care where they landed, only that they were gone. Then he buried his face between your legs like you’d been starving him for his entire life.

His tongue slipped between your folds, hot and greedy, lapping up everything you gave him like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. He flicked up and down with obscene precision, wet, messy, relentless— his nose bumping your clit as he moaned deep in his throat, like he needed this, like the taste of you could make or break him. You were soaked, legs shaking, lips parted in a silent cry, and all he did was keep eating like he was trying to crawl inside you with his tongue.

You were loving the way it feels, every bit of you being hit with electricity. Your fingers tangled in his hair the second his mouth met your pussy, gripping tight, yanking just enough to make him groan into you like he was grateful for the pain. He never slowed down. If anything, it made him hungrier, tongue flattening against your slit before flicking up again, sloppy and fast and fucking filthy.

“God- fuck, you’re so messy,” you gasped, thighs twitching around his head. “You like that? Being my dirty little mouth toy?”

He moaned. Moaned. Into your pussy.

Nodding obediently, even as you tugged harder, grinding him closer. His glasses were long gone, hair disheveled, chin dripping with spit and slick as he slurred out something unintelligible against your clit. His tongue working overtime like he was trying to spell your name in cursive with every flick.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled, words caught in his throat. “I could live here.”

You threw your head back with a laugh— and then a sharp gasp as he got bolder, messier, more desperate. His hands kept you spread, his tongue curling and licking and worshipping like this was the only chance he’d ever get. He was sure that he’d jizz his pants just from giving you head— sure it’s pathetic, maybe even tragic. But he couldn’t help it. You were just too hot, too perfect, too fucking unreal, and the taste of you on his tongue, the feel of your thighs squeezing around his head, it was better than anything his fist or filthy imagination had ever given him.

Your fingers remain tangled in his hair, holding onto him for anchorage. He looked up at you with glassy, pleading eyes, the lower half of his face glistening with your arousal and rosy cheeks. “Tell me I’m doing okay? Please? I read five articles about this. I practiced on a peach.”

You gasped. “You practiced on what?!”

“Nevermind. Just- keep calling me pretty. I swear I’ll die happy right here.”

You tugged his head back down, voice ragged and ruined.

“Then make me cum, pretty boy.”

And he did.

Like a man with something to prove.

Like a nerdy little virgin who had just found his true calling.

Your eyes closed shut at the feeling, falling apart at the seams. Every stroke of his tongue making your insides tighten. You suddenly couldn’t remember how breathing worked, all you saw were flashes of white invading your vision, cumming so hard that you almost saw stars. You cried out, high and broken, hands grasping at his head as you came hard against his mouth.

Jisung moaned through it— loud and messy— tongue never letting up, licking you through every twitch, every gasp, every last jolt of overstimulation until you were tugging at his hair for dear life and gasping for air. Only then did he pull back, lips shiny, eyes half-lidded, face absolutely drenched, and smiling like he just beat the final boss of his entire life.

Somewhere in the past twenty minutes between Jisung nuzzling your thighs like a man starved and moaning like he was the one cumming, you had apparently blacked out, transcended the mortal plane, and been reborn as a puddle of girl.

Now, you lay sprawled across his unmade bed, fully clothed from the waist up and violently ruined from the waist down, chest heaving, eyes wet and glassy, one sock half-off your foot like a casualty of war.

And Jisung?

Jisung was cuddled up beside you like the world’s horniest golden retriever, chin resting on your shoulder, looking so smug and soft it was almost offensive.

You could still feel the ghost of his tongue between your legs.

“You sure you’ve never done this before?” You croaked out, blinking up at the ceiling like it had answers.

Jisung tilted his head innocently. “What, that? Nah. I just… researched. A lot. And I… uh, practiced on a fruit.”

You turned your head slowly. “Was it the peach again?”

“…It might’ve also been a mango. For tongue agility. But I named it after you, so it was romantic!”

You tried to snort, but it came out as a wheeze. “I can’t feel my legs, Jisung.”

He beamed. “Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“Still taking it as one.”

He leaned in and kissed your cheek, then your nose, then your forehead like he hadn’t just destroyed your entire nervous system with his mouth.

“I feel like I just unlocked a secret side quest,” he victoriously cheered. “‘Satisfy hot girlfriend until she sees God.’ Bonus XP for oral stamina. Am I your favorite now?”

You blinked at him, still fighting for air. “I don’t even know my name right now. You’ve ruined me.”

Jisung squeaked and tucked his face into your neck, practically vibrating with joy. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“You should. I saw the afterlife. It was just a video game buffering screen.”

He laughed, then rolled onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “I can’t believe this is real. You’re real. Your thighs are real. I had a girlfriend and head privileges all in the same night. I feel like I need to call my mom.”

“Please don’t.”

“Too late. She deserves to know her son peaked.”

You smacked him lightly with the nearest pillow, still grasping for air, still dazed.

And then he smiled at you— so big, so genuine, so sickeningly in love that your tired heart clenched.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat, y’know,” he mumbled, brushing hair from your face. “Just say the word.”

You looked at him, the boy with anime figures on his shelf, lotion still on his desk, and love in his eyes, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Next time,” you whispered, “I’m returning the favor.”

Mindlessly reaching into his sweats, the second your hand wrapped around his length, you froze.

“…Jisung.”

“H-huh?”

You gave a blank expression. Looking down. Looking back up.

“This is- you’re.. how is this even—?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” he cried. “IT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE, I’M ONLY 5’7!”

You stared at him like he just told you he had a second life as a Marvel superhero.

“Oh my god, I just assumed you’d be, like—”

“Average?!” He gasped, scandalized.

“No! I just- I mean- look at you! You’re this cute little nerd with anime socks and a keyboard with cat ears.. how are you packing all this?!”

You were in utter disbelief, there’s no way your sweet, stammering little boyfriend had been walking around with a dick that big and had no idea what kind of weapon he was carrying. Just raw, untapped dick potential— XL stats on a man who still apologizes when his knees crack too loud. Poor baby had been lugging around a whole third leg, and didn’t even know the first thing to do with it ;(

He simply shook his head, fully tomato red now, flailing beneath you like he was about to spontaneously combust. He watched you like he was afraid to blink. You pumped him once, slowly, watching him shiver under your touch. His lips parted. His back arched. You hadn’t even gotten started and he already looked completely ruined.

“Can I ride you?” You asked sweetly.

He nodded so fast his head could nearly fell off. “Yes. Yes, oh my god, yes- please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You cocked your eyebrow.

“I’ll uninstall League right now if you ask me to—”

You giggled as you rolled the condom down over him, letting his hands greedily grab at your thighs. He was panting, forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat, like his brain was overheating just from the anticipation.

Then you finally lowered yourself, sinking down onto him, gradually, feeling the way you take him so easily from being soaking wet. Jisung mumbles something illegible under his breath as your cunt swallows his cock whole. It didn’t take long for you to reach the end of him since you were already so ready for him, staying in the same position to feel all of him inside you. His cock was splitting you open so nicely, it felt like you were in utter paradise.

And he made the sound.

Like his soul physically left his body, floated into the air, and gave you a salute on the way out.

“F-fuck.. you’re tight, I can’t—” he clutched your waist, eyes fluttering. “I’m gonna die. This is it. This is how I go.” He desperately bucks into you, wanting to feel more movement from you.

You move your hips to match his rhythm as you gain your balance, pressing both hands on his shoulder blades. You bounce slightly up and down on his cock, feeling your walls being filled up by every inch of him. You shifted from grinding on him real slow to picking up your pace indefinitely. Jisung threw his head back against the pillow from the pleasure, the sound of his balls hitting against your ass with the combination of it jiggling as you rode him like a bunny was enough to make him want to burst on the spot.

You leaned down and give him a chaste kiss. “Best way to go, huh?”

He nods vehemently. “Please don’t stop. Ever. I’ll cancel my Crunchyroll subscription for you. I’ll stop buying figurines. I’ll even delete my Genshin account.”

“Okay, now you’re being dramatic.”

He groaned helplessly as you continuously rode him like your life depended on it, breath hitching with every drag of your hips. He was so sensitive, so overwhelmed with it all that he couldn’t stop moaning into your mouth, mumbling broken, incoherent things like, “You feel soso good,” and “I can’t believe I get to have this,” and “Am I still breathing? No? Cool.”

You kissed down his jaw, showing no signs of stopping. You knew this was going to be one of those moments you’d both play on loop in your heads for a long, long time. “Still pretty, baby.”

He pants out. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You simply keep moaning as you kept bouncing on his cock, he was thrusting back into you, going even deeper. Your eyes reaching the back of your skull from the way he was hitting all the right spots. It wouldn’t take long before you started screaming his name and showering him with endless compliments.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Ji.” You were a broken record at this point, nothing but your whines and his grunts filling the room. You felt tense, your clit was throbbing, the pressure build up making you dizzy. Jisung couldn’t keep his eyes off you for a second, the way your tits bounced through your shirt, the way your long acrylics dug into his skin, he wasn’t even sure how he was still alive.

This was better than any of those fake scenarios that he’d absentmindedly create in his head, better than finally beating a level that he’d get stuck on for hours. He was in pure heaven, and he felt his high approaching any minute.

“I-I think ’m gonna cum,” he desperately choked out, rocking into you like a dog in heat.

Jisung was wrecked beneath you. Hands fisting into the sheets, mouth agape, his eyes rolling back every time you sank down fully and clenched around him.

“Fuck, please- please, I-I can’t,” he whimpered, voice shaky, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. His stomach tightening with every motion, trying so hard not to lose it.

You leaned forward and cupped his face, riding him a little harder, the slap of skin soft but steady. “You said you could take it, baby,” you whispered, voice syrup-sweet. “You begged for this.”

“I know, I- just- pleaseplease can I cum?” he panted, nearly on the verge of tears. His voice was raw, wrecked, like every second you didn’t let him was a cruel punishment. ��’m so close, I’m- I’ll be good, I swear, just let me.. please—”

You seal his lips with yours, just to quiet the begging, grinning against his mouth as his hands fumbled for your hips again. He moaned into the kiss, his hips twitching helplessly under yours.

“You’re lucky you’re cute when you beg,” you airly chuckled, pulling back just enough to look down at him. His eyes were wild, glazed over, the pretty sounds he made were like music to your ears.

“Th-thank you,” he sobbed, the gratitude in his voice borderline ridiculous. “’m gonna- I’m- oh my god—”

And with that, he finally let go. Releasing every last drop of his seed into the condom, muscles tensing up, gripping you like you were his only tether to reality. He looked down to see your arousal creating a white, creamy ring around the base of his thick cock, almost about to cum again just from the mere sight alone. Your legs felt like jello, you were weightless, collapsing onto his sweaty, sticky chest as you try to catch your breath, brain all foggy in your post-coital daze.

You didn’t expect him to cry.

Okay— not, like, full sobbing. But a little misty-eyed? A little “what did I do to deserve this?” A sparkle in his gaze as you lay draped across his chest, both of you blissed out and glowing in the soft, RGB-lit afterglow?

Yeah.

He was trying so hard not to sniffle.

“You okay, baby?” You murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the curve of his jaw.

Jisung nodded, eyes wide and glassy. “I just… I thought my first time would be like, awkward. Or disappointing. Or I’d accidentally sneeze into someone’s mouth and get banned from touching boobs forever.”

You laughed against his skin. “Definitely didn’t happen.”

“No,” he grins, wrapping his arms tighter around you, “this was better than anything I could’ve ever imagined in my head. Better than my first SSR pull in Genshin. Better than when I tried the seasonal spicy chicken ramen and lived.”

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes. “That’s a pretty long list of victories to beat.”

“You’re the only victory that matters.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned playfully, “who is this smooth man and what has he done with my sweaty, anime-obsessed virgin boyfriend?”

He huffed, burying his face into your hair. “He’s still sweaty and obsessed with anime. He just… also happens to be madly in love with you.”

You smiled into his chest.

“Also,” he added, completely deadpan, “I think I saw the shadow realm.”

You snorted. “When?”

“When you said I was pretty and grabbed my—” His voice cracked. He covered his face with his hands. “Oh my god, I can’t say it. My ancestors are watching.”

You giggled, shifting to lay next to him and intertwining your fingers with his.

And for a while, it was just quiet. Safe. His hand slowly brushing over your side. Your heartbeat syncing with his. The faint whir of his PC fan still spinning in the corner because, of course, he never actually shut it down.

Then he jolted upright suddenly, as if he remembered something urgent.

“Wait.”

You blinked up at him, amused. “What?”

He slid off the bed, naked except for one, singular sock and scurried to his cluttered desk. You watched, dazed and curious, as he fumbled with drawers and cracked open a cabinet that definitely shouldn’t have had food in it.

Finally, he turned around triumphantly. Holding out a white, rectangular box.

“Pocky.”

You stared. “…Seriously?”

“I always imagined I’d give my girlfriend Pocky after her first time with me,” he said solemnly. “Like a weird little anime reward.”

You sat up and grinned. “You are a weird little anime reward.”

He climbed back into bed beside you and opened the box, pulling out one, white chocolate-dipped stick and offering it with both hands like it was a sacred gift.

You bit it gently from his fingers.

“Mmm. You’re such a good boy,” you purred with a playful smile, “giving me snacks after ruining me.”

He short-circuited. Almost choking on his own Pocky. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I hope so.”

You kissed his cheek, then his nose, and then— just to mess with him— you whispered, “Still thinking about how big you are, by the way.”

Jisung made a noise so high-pitched it could only be heard by dogs. He flopped face down into the sheets, flailing helplessly while you laughed and straddled his back.

“You have to stop saying things like that,” he muffled into the pillow.

“Why?” You asked sweetly, brushing his hair back. “You’re my pretty boy. I’m just appreciating what’s mine.”

He peeked up at you, still pink, still glowing.

“…Promise you’re mine too?”

You leaned down and pressed your lips against his, soft and slow.

“Always.”

[mdanon027]

S K Z F A L L I N G I N L O V E

stray kids ot8 x reader | this is how they fall—soft, slow, and all at once.

🌙 synopsis: love doesn’t always arrive loudly. sometimes it slips in through laughter, late-night ramen, bookstore rambles, or the way your eyes crinkle when you’re proud of them. this is the moment it hits them. the heartbeat they’ll never forget. the thought they can’t shake. the shift from “i like her” to “oh. i’m hers.” get ready for bashful glances, overthought texts, unsent voice notes, and loyalty so deep it stings. this isn’t just a headcanon set. it’s a love letter. from them, to you.

💌 a/n: welcome to another sunday softdrops. hello to everyone who’s ever accidentally fallen in love with someone who tied their hoodie wrong or smiled weird during ramen. this is for you. this is cinema. this is spiritual collapse. this is accidentally locking eyes while brushing your teeth and now he’s pacing the hallway writing poetry in his notes app. p.s. reblog = kisses and love p.p.s. hydrate. wear something soft. never settle for a love that doesn’t look at you like Hyunjin looks at sun-warm skin and unscripted laughter p.p.p.s. drop a member + a soft scenario in my inbox and I’ll write it. no shame. no brakes. let’s emotionally disintegrate together 💌

📍credits: @cafekitsune for the dividers

🎧 » Love Again — Baekhyun « 0:58 ─〇───── 3:16 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

Bang Chan // 방찬

🌙 The moment it hits him: You’re sitting on the studio floor, legs criss-crossed in that hoodie you always steal, eating spicy ramen with your hair a mess, humming quietly to the instrumental he left looping. It’s nothing fancy. No makeup. No posing. Just you, glowing under the dim studio light. You look up and smile—mouth full, eyes bright, like he’s your favourite person in the world.

His heart stutters. His breath catches. And then: stillness.

🖋️ Inner thought:

“Oh. Shit. I’m gone. I’m in love. There’s no coming back from this.”

💌 How he acts right after: Absolute silence. Like, full system shutdown. He suddenly “needs to focus” on the track, spins his chair around, fidgets with literally anything. He can't stop glancing at you in the reflection of the monitor, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling like a schoolboy.

You: “What’s wrong?” Chan: “Nothing.” Also Chan: writes 6 love songs in one night and names the folder “idk.”

🫀 How he is in love: Gentle. So, so gentle it aches. He pays attention to every detail—your snack habits, your late-night mood swings, the way your lip curls when you’re overthinking. He worries constantly. Holds you like you're something delicate and divine. He serves you, literally and emotionally.

💝 Love language: – Acts of service → makes you playlists, folds your laundry, rubs your feet at 3am. – Physical touch → forehead kisses, waist holds, late-night cuddle traps. – Reassurance → always reminding you: “I’ve got you. No matter what.”

Lee Know // 리노

🌙 The moment it hits him: You’re napping on his couch, curled up in a pile of his cats and blankets. There's drool on your cheek. One slipper’s fallen off. Your hand’s loosely tangled in Soonie’s fur. And for some reason, when he walks in and sees that—that chaotic little mess of softness in his space—his chest tightens. He stands there, completely still. And just breathes. Like if he moves, the realization will hit too hard.

🖋️ Inner thought:

“...Damn it. This is love, isn’t it?”

💌 How he acts right after: Unbothered™. But that’s a lie. He acts the exact same on the outside—dry, sarcastic, lightly roasting you every five minutes. But now, when he calls you annoying, there’s a softness to it. He lets you steal his hoodies without comment. He cuts the crusts off your toast even though he always said that was “a waste.” And when he tucks the blanket tighter around you, he doesn’t say a word. But his hands linger.

🫀 How he is in love: He loves quietly. Intensely. Like it’s sacred. He watches you more than he talks, memorizes your habits like he’s preparing for a test. He won’t say “I love you” often—but the second someone else hurts you, he’s the first to stand up, fists clenched. His loyalty is undeniable.

💝 Love language: – Quality time → he wants you in the room, always. even if you're doing nothing. – Acts of service → small, exacting things. he'll fix your charger, refill your water, remember your favourite side dishes. – Words of affirmation → but only at 3am. in the dark. when you're half asleep and he thinks you won’t remember.

Changbin // 창빈

🌙 The moment it hits him: You’re hyping him up after a recording session, arms flailing, voice full of chaotic praise like, “YOU’RE A GENIUS, SEO CHANGBIN. ACTUAL GOD-TIER. GRAMMY WHEN?” He laughs so hard he snorts. Then you toss your phone at him to queue your shared playlist, already scrolling to the song labelled “for binnie only 💘” like it’s just a normal thing to do.

And he just… pauses. Heart pounding. Smile fading into something softer. Because it’s not just a crush anymore. You’ve carved a home in his chest and didn’t even ask for rent.

🖋️ Inner thought:

“Holy shit. She sees me. Like, all of me. And still wants to stay?”

💌 How he acts right after: He becomes a walking compliment generator.

You breathe? “You’re so cool.” You trip on air? “Even gravity loves you.” You touch his arm for 0.5 seconds? malfunction noises

He works out harder. Writes more. Smiles more. But also starts sending dramatic voice notes at midnight like,

“Hey um… not to be weird but like… your existence inspires me?? okay bye.” [hangs up instantly]

🫀 How he is in love: Overflowing. He feels big, and he loves bigger. He shows up. Every time. Front row in life for you. Loudest hype man, softest cuddle bear, always checking in even if you don’t ask. His love is protective, silly, and deeply rooted in loyalty—he doesn’t fall often, but when he does? He dives.

💝 Love language: – Words of affirmation → compliments on compliments on compliments. – Physical touch → bear hugs, back hugs, lap cuddles, full weight of his love on your body 24/7. – Gift giving → protein bars, playlists, random trinkets that “reminded me of you, don’t ask why.”

Hyunjin // 현진

🌙 The moment it hits him: You’re sitting in the sun, surrounded by your own little chaos—open books, headphones half-falling out, doodles all over the margins, an untouched coffee gone cold beside you. And you’re smiling to yourself. You’re not looking at him. Not even aware he’s watching. And for the first time, he doesn’t reach for his phone to take a photo. He just… stares. Because this moment is his, and his alone.

And he realizes, with a soft kind of devastation,

“I’m already hers.”

🖋️ Inner thought:

“She’s a poem. A prayer. A painting I want to memorize in my sleep.”

💌 How he acts right after: Absolutely spirals. Draws your side profile 12 times and ruins 11 because “they don’t capture it right.” Starts journaling in half-English-half-messy-sketches. Tells Felix about it and then gets mad when Felix smiles knowingly. He gets so quiet around you for a few days—not cold, just reverent. Like he’s scared to touch the moment too hard in case it disappears.

🫀 How he is in love: Soft and dramatic at the same time. He holds your hand like it’s precious, but he also tells the moon about you like you're his eternal muse. Cries at the idea of your future together. Panics if you don’t text back in 20 minutes. Wants to show you the world, but more than that—he wants you to feel safe in his world.

💝 Love language: – Quality time → long walks. gallery dates. sitting in silence and feeling it. – Words of affirmation → whispered. written. cried into your hair at 2AM. – Gift giving → his hoodie. his poetry. flowers that “reminded me of you” and are never store-bought.

Han // 한

🌙 The moment it hits him: You’re laughing so hard you almost choke on your boba. You try to tell a story but you’re wheezing between every word, face red, tears in your eyes, and instead of helping—he just starts laughing with you. Like really laughing. Loud. Unfiltered. Giddy. And then your hand brushes his and you don’t move it. Neither does he. He freezes mid-laugh and goes silent. Heart racing. Staring at your hand like it’s a bomb and he forgot the detonation code.

🖋️ Inner thought:

“Oh. No. Nope. Not allowed. Too much. Too fast. TOO—oh god I like her.”

💌 How he acts right after: 🧍‍♂️← him trying to walk normally while his brain is buffering Goes from “haha bestie 🤪” to “DO NOT PERCEIVE ME” in 0.3 seconds. Can’t look you in the eye. Drops everything he’s holding for a full week. Randomly sends memes at 2am like “HAHA this reminded me of nothing in particular bye” Starts writing lyrics with your initials in them and then panics and changes them to random letters.

🫀 How he is in love: Unhinged. Loyal. So soft he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Tells you dumb jokes because he wants to be the reason you smile. Acts like he’s chill about everything but will lose sleep over whether you liked the playlist he made you. He’s all heart, no brakes. The type to say “I’m not obsessed or anything” and then write your name 73 times in a private doc called “DO NOT OPEN I’M NORMAL.”

💝 Love language: – Words of affirmation → “you’re amazing” 24/7. calls you pretty when you sneeze. – Physical touch → clings to you like a koala when sleepy. arms around your waist while cooking. forehead touches when he’s overwhelmed. – Gifts → voice memos. notebooks full of scribbles. late-night snacks labelled “eat this or I cry.”

Felix // 필릭스

🌙 The moment it hits him: You’re struggling with something—frustrated, eyes glassy, breath shallow. You try to smile through it, but he sees the crack in your voice. And instead of saying anything, you just... reach for him. Wordlessly. Trustingly. Like he’s your calm in the storm. And he holds you. No questions. No “what’s wrong?” And that’s when it clicks. You see him as your safe place. And now? He never wants to be anything else.

🖋️ Inner thought:

“I’d burn the whole world down just to keep her soft.”

💌 How he acts right after: SO SOFT. SO SHY. SO PANICKED. Starts checking in more often—"did you eat?" / "how are you feeling?" / "i saw a cloud and thought of you." Smiles at you like you’re made of glitter and stardust. He hugs longer. Texts sweeter. Starts journaling without realizing it. Cries at random songs because they "sound like you."

🫀 How he is in love: Loyal like a golden retriever. Protective like a knight. Gentle like warm tea in your hands. He wants to give—his time, his hoodie, the last bite, his full attention. He doesn’t love halfway. He pours. Will randomly whisper, “I love you,” mid-snack or during a grocery run. Just because.

💝 Love language: – Physical touch → hand-holding, pinky linking, long cuddles with your head on his chest where he can kiss your hair over and over – Words of affirmation → “you’re doing great,” “you’re beautiful always,” “you make me proud just by being you” – Gift giving → handmade bracelets, playlists with titles like “sunshine for my sunshine,” carefully wrapped little things he “just saw and thought of you”

Seungmin // 승민

🌙 The moment it hits him: You’re arguing. Not seriously, just bantering over which ramen flavor is superior. You’re passionate, dramatic, refusing to back down. He rolls his eyes, calls you a menace. But then—

You crinkle your nose at him. That same look you always give him. That smug little grin. And for no reason at all, his brain just short-circuits. Because suddenly, he realizes he never wants to argue with anyone else ever again.

🖋️ Inner thought:

“Oh god. She’s my person. She’s IT. That’s… that’s terrifying.”

💌 How he acts right after: Unchanged. Suspiciously unchanged. Keeps up the banter, calls you annoying, pretends like his heart didn’t just fall out of his chest. But he starts doing the quiet things—carrying your water bottle without asking, remembering exactly how you like your eggs, glancing at you when you laugh like it’s the last time he’ll get to hear it.

🫀 How he is in love: He doesn’t say it often—but he shows it in every micro-moment. He teases because he’s comfortable. He remembers everything you say. Stays up just to walk you home. Buys you medicine before you realize you’re sick. He doesn’t ask for much—he just wants to be the reason you feel steady.

💝 Love language: – Acts of service → does everything quietly. recharges your headphones. clears your plate. fixes your tech. – Quality time → invites you to sit with him while he works. listens when you ramble about nothing. – Words of affirmation (low volume) → slips in compliments when you least expect it:

“you’re really smart, you know.” “i like when you talk like that.” “i’m proud of you… just don’t make it weird.”

I.n // 아이엔

🌙 The moment it hits him: You’re dragging him through a bookstore, rambling about your favourite genre, talking a mile a minute. He’s not even following half of it—he’s too busy watching the way your eyes light up when you speak, the way your hands move when you’re excited. You stop mid-sentence, look back at him, and go:

“What? You’re staring.”

And he stammers some excuse—but the truth is, he just realized he wants to follow you around like that forever.

🖋️ Inner thought:

“Oh. Oh no. I’m in love. I’m so done for. What do I do. WHAT DO I DO—”

💌 How he acts right after: Absolutely panics internally. Externally? Tries to act cool. Cue awkward jokes. Random distance. More awkward jokes. Starts doing little things for you but blaming them on coincidence.

“Oh you forgot your charger? Weird that I brought an extra one for no reason.” “I totally wasn’t waiting here for you to show up. I just… happened to be standing exactly where you are now.”

🫀 How he is in love: He glows. Around you, because of you, for you. Gets bolder in bursts—sends texts like “I missed your voice today.” Wants to impress you but also wants to be vulnerable. He tries so hard not to mess it up. But love softens him, makes him gentle, open, kind in a way that’s deeply intentional. Every time you smile at him, he falls harder.

💝 Love language: – Gift giving → tiny, random trinkets. receipts with hearts. keychains. snacks he saw and thought “this is so her.” – Quality time → slow walks, late calls, staying on FaceTime even if you’re both doing other things. – Physical touch → hesitant at first, then clingy. loves resting his head on your shoulder or getting forehead kisses like he’s your baby bird.

[mdanon027]

Hold This!

Genre: Fluff with a bit of kissing whoops

Pairing: established relationship Chan x Female Reader

Quick Summery: Chan about to go away on a 3 month long tour and you know your gonna get sleepless nights but how will Chan feel about your plan to hold on to him so far away.

Warning: Chan threatens a teddy bear that all.

────୨ৎ────₊˚⊹ 𐂯────୨ৎ────₊˚⊹ 𐂯────୨ৎ────₊˚⊹ 𐂯──

Chan was sitting on the couch casually scrolling through his emails. In two weeks, he'd be on another 3 month long tour. And while you love and support his career, a part of your heart would break whenever he would talk about it.

A few days that was nothing, a week may push a little but months and you just knew your comfortable nights in his arms without his smell were tormenting to the point of getting no sleep.

And so there you sat holding onto the Wolf Chan teddy bear he got you in preparation for his departure. The teddy bear was soft and big enough to wrap your arms around. While the soft fur did keep you warm and the light weight of it did bring you comfort. It wasn't him. Nothing could beat his warm arms as they wrapped around you, the way his head would nuzzle into your neck as he hummed softly at having you in his arms. And the best part is his smell. The deep vanilla musk makes you smile whenever you are close to him.

So you thought to yourself. How would I ever be able to hold onto this feeling? This feeling of him. And like a light bulb, went off in your head.

So you scooted closer to Chan, he smiled softly at you being in range wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you and the bear closer but you pulled away.

"Hold this," you said holding Wolf Chan out of your arms. He raised his brow at you slightly but grabbed onto the bear and went back to his emails. You nodded in approval, wandering off to find the perfect hoodie you could steal.

But while you were content with your plan Chan's mind was bouncing like a roller coaster. Well, it was before, but that was for tour double checking the set list, making sure all the boys request were met and tweaking the little things his manager would bring to his attention. But now he had a new concern. And that being is she mad at me? But why would she give such a happy smile.

He could even hear his closet door opening as you shuffled with his hangers. He knew you were looking for one of his hoodies, that he was used to but as his eyes looked to Wolf Chan his confusion grew more.

"Why does she want me to hold you when I could be holding her?" he asked the bear as if it would know all the answers.

As his mind racked around for a reason his phone dinged for the main reason of his cluttered thoughts. I'll just put a pin in that for now, he thought to himself as he went back to answering emails.

✘

But then it was nightfall. Chan was lying on his back arms tucked under his head as he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. His mind still racking over earlier this afternoon. But the thought was lost at the sight of you walking out of the bathroom.

Wearing his shirt and those cute little shorts that made his eyes wonder as they took in your legs. And you couldn't help but do the same.

Letting your eyes trail his chiseled abs and the way his arms flex. How his lip trailed his teeth as he nibbled a little. Your eyes met and you couldn't help but to jump onto the bed letting your arms wrap around him and taking in his scent. Sighing at the comfort he brought. His lips finding your head kissing at you softly.

But then you remembered your plan so you quickly got up before his arms could wrap around you running to the living room to grab Wolf Chan.

Chan left out a confused "What," but you were gone before you could hear the words leave his mouth. You suddenly ran back into the room jumping on the bed with Wolfe in your arms smiling at the man.

He gave a confused smile back but before he could ask, "Hold this," you said shoving the bear into his arms.

He took it slowly and you quickly rewarded him with a quick kiss. Turning around and turning the light off. Though you weren't in his arms tonight the warmth of his body being not that far and the smell of him in the sheets was enough to send your body to sleep.

And now Chan was even more confused. She wouldn't have kissed me if she was mad. Why the fuck am I holding this? He thought to himself. So out of frustration he threw Wolf Chan across the room and quickly wrapped his arms around you nuzzling his face into your neck. Your sleepy body sighed and relaxed into him, he smiled kissing the back of your neck.

✘

When morning came and you felt his arms around you, you couldn't help but turn around and kiss his lips, but as your sleepy mind woke up you wondered where Wolf Chan was. Your eyes trailed the room but stopped to a corner seeing the poor bear on the floor alone. You frowned and softly moved from Chan's arms your feet lightly walking the ground as you picked up the bear and wrapped it in Chan's awaiting arms. His body wrapped around the bear thinking it was you and even nuzzled into it. You smiled in content as you went to the kitchen to start breakfast.

✘

Chan woke up the light hitting his face and the tiredness still in his eyes. Though as he moved his legs he felt the emptiness of yours not being there, that's strange because he could have sworn you were still in his arms.

He jumped at the sight of the bear throwing it out of his arms as it fell to the floor.

He sat up rubbing his wild hair, okay this has got to end, he thought, you can not take away a man's cuddles with his woman.

And so Chan got up ready to nip whatever he did in the bud but his eyes softened as you turned around, your eyes shinning as you met his. There you were making breakfast and putting the finishing touches. He walked over wrapping his arms around you kissing your cheek.

What was I even mad about, he thought to himself as he swayed you both, "Baby why aren't you holding Wolf Chan," you said eyes now focused on the eggs as they slowly cooked. Right, he thought this again.

"Baby," he said cautiously, you hummed in response.

"Why aren't you letting me hold you? Are you mad at me am I not giving you enough attention before the tour?" he asked the words fumbling out his mouth quickly. Luckily the eggs were done so you turned the stove top off setting the hot pan to the side, turning around in his arms as you held his face.

"What silly? You've done more than enough," you said kissing his cheeks and then his nose softly. But his pout grew a bit more, "Then why are you making me hold Wolf Chan, baby, I wanna hold you," he said his accent growing deep as he wined. His plush lips poked out, you couldn't help but to giggle more kissing his lips softly.

"Because I want your smell," you said again, his confusion grew deeper.

"My smell... wouldn't you get it more if I don't know, you let your boyfriend cuddle you," he said with a bit of sass.

Wow you thought to yourself, I didn't realize he was so serious about cuddles. Your giggles turned into a rich laugh.

Chan couldn't help to smile at your joy even if he was confused by what was bringing it.

"Baby girl stop laughing, I'm being serious," he said trying to put on the most serious face which only made you laugh more.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry," now heaving out air at his antics. Your head fell into his chest as you caught your breath.

"When you're on tour, at night I miss you even more, and I like the bear you got me but it's a poor replacement especially when it's not you and doesn't have your smell," you said. Chan's heart cooed his arms tightening around you at your confession.

"So you've been making me hold him to get my smell for when I'm gone," he asked rubbing your back. You nodded into his chest now suddenly embarrassed at the thought.

"Baby," he said dragging the word out to get you to look at him, the words coming out as if he were calling you awake. And you did slowly bringing your eyes to his, his lips finding yours quickly taking in you and your confession.

"I understand your thought process but I'm trying to get all my cuddles in before I have to leave you," he said kissing your cheek, your nose, and then your collarbone.

"You see, when I go on tour I don't get to have you in my arms like this," his arms pulling you closer to him, "I don't get to kiss your lips as much as I want to," He kissed your lips, they rubbed at yours in a motion so slow it almost became torture. It was like he was doing everything in his power to mold your lips to his. To remember always. Devouring you slowly as you devoured him.

"Hmm I don't get to sleep knowing you're not in my arms, and while I get where you're coming from, I have two more weeks where I get to hold the real thing, so I'm gonna have to ask you to stop avoiding my cuddles," he said slightly with a stern tone. His lips were not that far from yours as his eyes scanned your face and yours locked onto his lips. A slight smirk at your love-sick eyes. Waiting for the answer he knew you'd give him.

Still a little love-sick off his lips you nodded, "good" he said leaving a quick peck on your lips.

"I'm going to set the table," he said leaving your arms as you stood their shell shock.

Your brain quickly came back on at his wink when his eyes met yours. "Wait but when you're not holding me can you at least hold him," you said letting your eyes blink slowly and your head titling slightly when you wanted something.

He sighed but before he could say no, "pleaseeee," you said drawing out your E's.

He sighed even more going back into the bedroom to grab Wolf Chan glaring at the bear as he sat down.

You squealed a little out of joy humming as you brought breakfast over. Chan glared at the bear on his lap but when you wrapped your free hand in his, he instantly melted, the anger leaving him as you both contently ate your breakfast.

She's lucky I'm whipped for her or you be in the donation pile, he thought to himself as he tried to send the telepathic message to Wolf Chan. You giggled at the way Chan's eyes narrowed at the bear when he thought you weren't looking.

Kissing his cheek you went to comfort him, "Don't worry, no one could replace you. I'm yours remember?" you said. His hand gripping yours slightly like his heart did at your words.

"I could never forget and I'm yours right," he asked even if he knew the question.

"Always," you said kissing the corner of his mouth. And while you did tame the jealousy that Chan had to his own personified bear, you still would catch him glaring at Wolf Chan.

────୨ৎ────₊˚⊹ 𐂯────୨ৎ────₊˚⊹ 𐂯────୨ৎ────₊˚⊹ 𐂯──

An//// How do we like Y/N plan? I'm so on the fence of getting the SKZOO Teddy Bear so this is my way to fight the temptation that we all know I might fall into. But like I have so many stuffed animals as it is and I don't even know where I'll put that if I do decide to get him. Hope you enjoyed this post friendly reminder that request are open so let me know if you think my writing can tickle your fancy!

Y❀Y✿

Permanent Tag List : @velvetmoonlght