memorabxlia

[memorabxlia]

HAPPY 1K NOTES !!! Thank you all so much for the continued love and support !!

Tied Up ━ 방찬

genre: smut summary: “It’s long enough to tie you to the bed.” warnings: language, bondage, oral (fem receiving), begging, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap up irl!), Chan is referenced as Chris in this, I most definitely forgot something pairing: boyfriend!bangchan x fem!reader wc: 1.2k a/n: DAY 12!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

The room smells like pine and cinnamon, a lingering reminder of the Christmas morning chaos. The discarded wrapping paper is scattered across the floor, remnants of gifts exchanged with laughter and delight. You’re perched on the edge of the bed, holding a long piece of red ribbon, about to toss it into the trash when Chris stops you.

“Hey, don’t throw that away,” he says, his voice low and teasing. His eyes gleam with mischief as he plucks the ribbon from your fingers, letting it slide through his hands like silk.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “And what exactly are you planning to do with this? Tie up some more presents?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer. His body radiates warmth, and you feel the heat of him even before he touches you. “Oh, no. This has a much better use.” He leans in, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispers, “It’s long enough to tie you to the bed.”

Your stomach flips, a mix of surprise and anticipation coiling tight inside you. “Is that so?” you murmur, your voice trembling just slightly. The idea sends a shiver down your spine, but not one of fear—no, it’s something far more electric.

Chris smirks, his hand trailing up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You’ve been teasing me all morning,” he says, his tone playful but laced with something darker, needier. “Every time you bent over to pick up a gift, every time you leaned forward to grab a cookie… you’ve been driving me crazy. And now…” He holds up the ribbon, letting it dangle between his fingers. “Now I think it’s my turn to have a little fun.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “And what if I say no?”

His grin widens, and there’s a glint in his eye that makes your knees weak. “You won’t.”

Before you can protest, he’s gently pushing you back onto the bed, the soft comforter cushioning your fall. The ribbon slips around your wrists, cool and smooth against your skin. You gasp as he tugs lightly, testing the knot, and then secures your hands to the headboard. The sensation is strange but thrilling, the way the ribbon bites just enough to remind you that you’re at his mercy.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice dripping with faux concern.

You tug experimentally at the restraints, feeling the ribbon hold firm. “Not bad,” you admit, trying to sound casual despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

Chris laughs, a deep, rich sound that fills the room. “Good. Because I’m just getting started.”

He kneels between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs. His touch is warm, possessive, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as it travels over your body. Slowly, deliberately, he traces patterns on your skin, his fingertips skimming higher and higher until they brush against the fabric of your panties.

You bite your lip, arching into his touch, but he pulls back, smirking. “Not yet,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “I want you to beg for it.”

You groan, frustration mixing with arousal. “Chris…”

“Shh,” he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips. “Patience.”

He drags his hands back down your thighs, his touch feather-light. Then, without warning, he brings his palm down sharply against the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The sting catches you off guard, and you yelp, your hips jerking involuntarily.

“Sensitive, huh?” he teases, his voice dark with amusement. He does it again, this time on the other side, and you squirm, the sensation mingling pain with pleasure in a way that leaves you breathless.

“Chris, please,” you whimper, your voice breaking. The ribbon tightens as you pull against it, your body straining toward him.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your hipbone. “Please what?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin.

You moan, unable to form coherent words. He takes that as encouragement, his mouth moving lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your thigh. When he reaches the juncture of your legs, he pauses, his breath ghosting over your aching core.

“Tell me,” he demands, his voice a growl.

“Eat me out,” you plead, desperate for relief. “Please, Chris, please.”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer. In one swift motion, he yanks your panties aside and buries his face between your legs, his tongue delving deep into your slick folds. The sensation is overwhelming, and you cry out, your hands clenching into fists above your head.

He moans against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His tongue flicks over your clit, fast and relentless, and you writhe beneath him, helpless under the onslaught of pleasure. Every lick, every suck, feels like it’s lighting you on fire from the inside out.

“So good,” he growls, his voice muffled against you. “You taste fucking incredible.”

His hunger is insatiable, his movements almost frenzied as he devours you like a man starved. You can feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your back arching off the bed as you hurtle toward the edge.

“Chris, I’m—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as he sucks hard on your clit, tipping you over the edge. Pleasure explodes through you, white-hot and all-consuming, and you scream his name as you come undone.

He doesn’t let up, his tongue coaxing every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body. By the time he finally pulls away, you’re a wrung-out mess, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. He climbs up your body, settling between your legs, and you can feel the hardness of him pressing against your thigh.

“Need you,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

“You’ll get me,” he promises, his eyes dark with lust. “But first…” He grabs the end of the ribbon, slowly pulling it free from the headboard. Your arms fall limply to your sides, but before you can move them, he’s gathering your wrists together and securing them once more, this time behind your back.

“Chris,” you protest weakly, though you’re too spent to put up much of a fight.

He silences you with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he positions himself at your entrance. “Trust me,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re going to love this.”

And then he’s inside you, filling you completely in one fierce thrust. You gasp, your nails digging into your palms as he sets a brutal pace, fucking you deep and hard. Every stroke pushes you closer to the edge again, your body already wound tight from your last orgasm.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips as he slams into you. “So tight, so perfect.”

You can’t speak, can’t think, can only feel as he drives into you with unrelenting force. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your combined moans echoing off the walls.

“Cum for me again,” he commands, his voice raw with need. “I want to feel you—”

The words are cut off as your body convulses around him, another wave of pleasure crashing over you. He follows close behind, his release spilling deep inside you as he collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged.

For a moment, you both lie there, tangled together in the aftermath. Then, with a wicked grin, Chris sits up, his eyes gleaming with renewed mischief. “Think we should save the rest of the ribbon for later?”

❥﹒ stray kids taglist: @minkilicious @casemoa143 @instabull @lice @amarecerasus

[memorabxlia]

The One ━ 피하

☆pairing¡! ot6 x fem!reader ☆genre¡! fluff, hurt/comfort, ☆summary¡! moments you knew they were the one ☆warnings¡! mentions anxiety and stress, mentions fate, crying, that's all I think ☆wc¡! 1.2k (all together) ☆a/n¡! I'm back!! Apologies for being gone so long, life had taken an unexpected turn, but it's all been figured out and I thought I would write something for piwon since DUH! got released, which besides the title track I'm definitely in love with Flashy and Pretty Boy!!!

Keeho – wc: 232

It had been a long, emotionally draining week for both of you. Work, pressure, expectations—everything was piling on. You suggested some air, and he led you up to the rooftop of his dorm, city lights stretching in the distance like tiny stars. You wrapped yourselves in a blanket, sipping hot drinks, sitting in comfortable silence until Keeho finally spoke.

"I'm scared sometimes," he admitted, voice quieter than usual. "Of failing, of not being enough—for myself, for the people I care about."

It was the first time you'd seen him stripped of his usual humor and confidence. The way he let you see that raw part of him made your heart ache—in the best way. He wasn't just fun and bold and loud. He was layered, deep, and open in ways only someone truly trusting could be. As you looked at him, hair tousled, eyes soft, you thought: This is the kind of person I want to face every version of life with. This is home.

Theo – wc: 212

You’d had one of those days—full of misunderstandings, fatigue, and a gnawing anxiety you couldn’t shake. You texted Theo, not asking him to come, just venting. Twenty minutes later, there was a knock. No words, no dramatics. Just Theo, holding your favorite drink and a warm hoodie that smelled like him.

You both sat on the couch. He let you lay your head on his shoulder. No advice. No fixing. Just presence. Steady, unwavering presence.

You cried a little. He held your hand.

And when you finally looked up, red-eyed and emotionally wrung out, he smiled a small, sad smile and said, “You don’t always have to be okay. I’ll hold you through it.”

At that moment, you knew. Love wasn’t always loud or poetic. Sometimes it was quiet and grounding. And in that stillness, you realized: Forever is with him.

Jiung – wc: 211

You both had creative souls—his in music, yours in writing and visual art. One rainy evening, you found yourselves sprawled across the floor of his studio. He was tweaking beats and lyrics while you sketched a new concept inspired by his latest song.

“I love how your brain works,” Jiung said suddenly, watching you from behind his laptop. “You make things feel alive.”

You blushed, a little surprised. He wasn’t the type to compliment lightly, but when he did, it always felt sincere.

Later that night, when he played the finished demo and you saw your drawing sitting beside his notebook, you realized how deeply your worlds were woven together. In your art, in your rhythms, in your quiet encouragements—this was more than just chemistry. This was partnership.

That’s when it struck you: I don’t just love him. I want to create life with him, over and over again.

Intak – wc: 209

It started as a joke. You were bored, and Intak, ever the instigator, grabbed your hand and said, “Let’s drive till we find something cool.” Two hours later, you were eating street food in a small coastal town, barefoot on a beach neither of you knew existed that morning.

You laughed until your stomach hurt, danced to a stranger’s guitar playing, and talked about your craziest dreams like they were possible.

At some point, Intak looked at you with that boyish grin and said, “What if we just kept going? New places, new food, you and me. Just… forever like this.”

You laughed then, but as the sun set and you watched him skip rocks across the water, you couldn’t stop smiling. Because forever didn’t sound scary. Not with him. Not with his wild heart, his gentle soul, his chaotic joy.

This wasn’t just a detour. It was the beginning of your favorite story.

Soul – wc: 200

It wasn’t a special day. There were no holidays, no celebrations. You were just at home, folding laundry together. The TV played softly in the background, Soul humming absentmindedly along to a song he liked.

He handed you a pair of socks, then paused to fix the collar of your shirt with such quiet tenderness it made your heart ache. “You always forget this part,” he murmured with a small laugh, smoothing it out.

You looked up, caught in his calm eyes, and suddenly felt the weight of the moment.

No grand gestures. No big declarations. Just soft love, steady hands, and a deep knowing.

With Soul, it wasn’t about the high points—it was the everyday magic. And in that silence, you knew: He’s my forever. My ordinary miracle.

Jongseob – wc: 204

The night sky stretched endlessly above you as you lay on a blanket in a quiet park. Jongseob was talking about the future—his bucket list, the music he still wanted to make, the people he wanted to impact.

Then his voice shifted. Softer.

“But no matter what happens, I want you there with me,” he said. “In every version of my future, you're in it.”

You turned to look at him, lit only by the moonlight, and saw the rare vulnerability in his usually confident eyes.

He wasn’t just speaking from fantasy—he was making a promise. A quiet, hopeful, real promise.

You reached for his hand, and when he gripped it back tightly, you knew—this isn’t just love. This is fate.

☆taglist¡! @minkilicious ☆networks¡! @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films @kflixnet @daydreamnet

[memorabxlia]

badboy boynextdoor ━ 비엔디

☆pairing¡! ot6 x fem!reader (separate) ☆genre¡! fluff ☆warnings¡! mentions food, mentions violence, implied friends to lovers, mentions smoking, mentions bad weather, ☆wc¡! 836 (all together)

Sungho – wc: 131

He shows up at your place with blood on his knuckles and a cocky tilt to his grin. You don’t say anything at first. Just grab the first aid kit and sit him down.

“Seriously?” you mutter. “Again?”

“He deserved it.”

“They always do, huh?”

He winces when you dab at the cut, but he doesn’t flinch away.

The next day, you leave cupcakes on his porch—pink frosting, heart sprinkles, and a note that says, “Try problem-solving without your fists. Start with frosting.”

You don’t expect a response, but later your phone buzzes: “Too sweet. Just like you. I ate five.”

You shake your head, smiling, because of course he did.

Riwoo – wc: 155

You catch him feeding a stray cat behind the gas station, crouched low like he’s hiding something illegal.

“You’re serious about this?” you ask, stepping closer. “You hiding your side hustle as a cat dad?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not a cat dad.”

“Okay, so this one’s stalking you?”

He doesn’t answer. Just scratches the cat’s ears like he’s done it a hundred times.

You pull a granola bar from your bag and offer it. The cat eats it. He watches you with that unreadable look.

“You naming him or what?”

“Only if you don’t tell anyone,” he mutters.

“Cross my heart,” you say, smiling.

The next week, you show up with a tiny hand-knit cat sweater.

He calls it stupid.

He also keeps it.

Jaehyun – wc: 143

You show up to the party in pastels and glossed lips, feeling like the only splash of color in a house full of dark hoodies and half-hearted beer pong. You spot Jaehyun leaning on the porch railing, cigarette glowing faintly in the dark. His eyes find you fast. They always do.

When you leave, he’s suddenly beside you. He doesn’t ask. Just walks.

“You always follow girls home?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

“Just the ones who dress like a cupcake but walk like they own the street,” he says, not even glancing your way.

You scoff, but your heart’s racing.

He keeps his hands in his pockets, but when a car slows near the curb, his body shifts in front of you, subtle and sure.

You pretend not to notice. He knows you do.

Taesan – wc: 119

You’re talking to someone from yearbook—nice, clean-cut, smiley. He’s sweet. Harmless.

What you don’t notice is Taesan across the courtyard, watching with narrowed eyes, arms crossed like he’s weighing something.

He finds you after class, corners you at your locker.

“You into him?”

You blink. “Who?”

“That guy. From lunch.”

“Oh. No. He’s just… friendly.”

He steps closer, voice low. “Good. ‘Cause if you were, I’d have to pretend I don’t care. And I don’t lie well.”

Your brain short-circuits.

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you blushing and grinning like a lovesick idiot.

Leehan – wc: 193

The storm knocks the power out at his place. Yours went out earlier—and worse—so you showed up with wet hair and cold fingers, and he didn’t say much. Just opened the door, handed you one of his hoodies, and muttered, “Don’t drip on the floor.”

Now you’re both on the living room floor, wrapped in mismatched blankets with one flickering candle between you. He leans back against the wall, black hoodie, silver rings, and that usual calm that’s more dangerous than loud.

“I never pictured you being scared of thunder,” he says, lips curled just slightly. “I’m not scared,” you lie. Then, thunder crashes again—and you flinch. He doesn’t say I told you so. Doesn’t tease again. Just reaches over, pulls you into his side like it’s nothing, and settles you there. You feel his fingers brush over the frilly edge of your sleeve, slow and absent, like he’s thinking about something and not saying it. “You’re safe, princess,” he murmurs. “You can stop pretending now.” And slowly, with your cheek pressed against his chest and his scent in your lungs, you actually do.

Woonhak – wc: 149

You’re at lunch when you overhear two girls behind you.

“He’s just messing with her. Guys like him don’t date girls like that.”

“She’s probably just a phase.”

You snap.

“He’s better than any of the guys you’ve dated. He actually listens. He shows up. Last week he stood in the rain with me for an hour just because I didn’t want to be alone. So maybe mind your business.”

They go quiet.

Later, Woonhak finds you behind the gym, hands stuffed in your jacket.

“You didn’t have to say anything,” he says.

“I know. I wanted to.”

He leans in, kisses you quick and breathless, hand cupping your cheek like you’re something delicate.

And he doesn’t say it—but you know he’s never felt more seen.

☆taglist¡! @minkilicious @dobbiesvvorld ☆networks¡! @blossomnet @onedoornet @k-labels @k-films @kflixnet @daydreamnet

[memorabxlia]

hey girlyyyyy^^ Can I request smth? I would like to request badboy! boynextdoor x girly! reader if thats fine? Maybe headcannons or smth but whatever u feel like hehe!! But if possible ot6👉👈 (no nsfw)

hiiii, sorry it took so long lovely! hope you like it! ♡

[memorabxlia]

I Like You ━ 니키

genre: fluff, friends-to-lovers summary: in which you realize the feelings you've been trying to ignore might not be so one-sided after all warnings: mild language, lots of teasing, mutual pining, mentions food, mild nervousness pairing: ni-ki x fem!reader wc: 1k

The sun blazes overhead as you step out of the car, the scent of hot asphalt and buttered popcorn already filling the air. You adjust your sunglasses and glance over at Riki, who is stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. He looks effortlessly cool, dressed in a loose T-shirt and ripped jeans, his blond hair shining under the summer sun.

"Finally! I thought we were never gonna make it," Riki groans, tossing an arm over your shoulders as you both walk toward the ticket booth. Your heart skips a beat, but you tell yourself it's just the excitement of the amusement park. Yeah. That’s it.

"It’s not my fault you overslept," you tease, elbowing him lightly. He grins, all sharp edges and playful energy, and it makes your stomach do that stupid thing again.

You’re not exactly sure when your small crush on Riki started. Maybe it was that time he stayed up all night helping you study, despite complaining the entire time. Or maybe it was when he showed up at your house in the pouring rain just to bring you your favorite snacks when you were sick. Or maybe it was even earlier, when he grabbed your hand and pulled you through a crowded street without a second thought, like it was the most natural thing in the world. But he’s your best friend. There’s no way he thinks of you that way. You shake your head, trying to clear the thought as the two of you grab your tickets and head inside.

"Alright, what are we doing first?" Riki asks, shoving his hands into his pockets as he surveys the park.

You pretend to think, but you already know what you want. "Roller coasters. Obviously."

Riki snorts. "Obviously. You and your need for speed."

The two of you weave through the crowds, the sound of screaming riders and laughter echoing all around you. You hit the bumper cars first, where Riki spends most of his time ramming into you at full force and laughing maniacally. Then there’s the spinning teacups, where he purposely spins your cup so hard you nearly fall out when it stops. And of course, the haunted house ride, where he keeps sneaking his hand onto your knee just to see you jump.

But when you near the first big roller coaster—a massive, looping beast—you notice Riki slowing down. He’s staring at it with an odd expression.

"Hey, you good?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, totally," he says quickly. Too quickly. You narrow your eyes.

"Wait." You gasp, realization hitting you. "Are you scared of roller coasters?"

"What? No!" he scoffs, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

A slow smirk spreads across your face. "Oh my god, you totally are."

"Shut up," he mutters, tugging at his sleeve. "I just… don’t like the feeling of falling, alright?"

You tilt your head. "So you prefer… what? The ground?"

"Yes. Solid, stable, reliable ground."

You bite your lip, considering. He looks genuinely uneasy, but at the same time, you can’t let this go. Not when it’s Riki of all people—the guy who teases you relentlessly.

"Tell you what," you offer. "If you go on this ride with me, I’ll buy you all the churros you want after."

Riki eyes you suspiciously. "All the churros?"

"Every single one."

He sighs dramatically. "Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you."

"Deal."

As you get strapped into the ride, you glance over at him. He’s gripping the safety bar so tightly his knuckles are turning white. You stifle a laugh.

"You’re gonna be fine," you reassure him. "Probably."

Riki glares at you. "I hate you."

The ride launches forward before you can respond, and all thoughts fly from your mind as you're flung through the loops and drops. When you stumble off, breathless and exhilarated, Riki looks like he’s just seen his life flash before his eyes.

"Never again," he mutters, shaking his head.

"Aw, come on, you survived!" you tease, poking his side.

He glares at you but relents. "Fine. But I want my churros. Now."

After grabbing the promised churros, the two of you wander around the park, hitting up different rides and games. At some point, Riki wins you a stuffed bear at a ring toss booth, and you try not to overthink it. But then he casually throws an arm around your shoulders again, and your brain short-circuits.

"You’re acting weird today," you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

Riki raises an eyebrow. "Am I?"

"Yeah, like—" You hesitate. "I don’t know. You keep looking at me weird. And you’re being kind of… clingy?"

He shrugs. "Maybe I just like being around you."

Your heart stutters. Don’t read into it, you scold yourself. It’s Riki. He’s saying these things to get a rise out of you.

But as the day goes on, little things keep happening. Like the way he keeps standing just a little too close—not in a casual, accidental way, but like he’s deliberately closing the space between you. When you stop at a game booth, his arm brushes yours and lingers a second too long before he pulls away with a smirk. When he hands you a drink, his fingers brush against yours, and he doesn’t let go immediately, just watching you as if waiting for a reaction. And then there’s the way his gaze keeps finding you—when you’re laughing at a kid struggling with an oversized prize, when you’re distracted watching a ride, even when you’re not looking at him. He always looks away just a second too late, like he’s been caught. It’s subtle, but it’s enough to make your head spin.

By the time the sun starts setting, you’re sitting on a bench, sipping on a lemonade while Riki scrolls through his phone beside you. The Ferris wheel nearby glows softly, its lights twinkling against the dusky sky.

"Wanna ride the Ferris wheel before we leave?" Riki asks suddenly, locking his phone.

You nod. "Yeah, sounds good."

You don’t think much of it until you’re both sitting in the small carriage, slowly ascending. Then, the realization hits you.

Riki shifts beside you, his knee bumping against yours. Before you can react, he leans in closer, his face just inches from yours. "You nervous?" he murmurs, his voice lower than before.

"No," you lie, gripping your cup tightly.

He chuckles. "Liar."

A few beats of silence pass before he exhales sharply. "You know, I wasn’t actually scared of the roller coaster."

You frown. "Huh? But you—"

"I was just nervous about something else," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "About telling you something."

Your stomach twists. "Riki…?"

Before you can answer, Riki tilts his head slightly, his eyes flicking down to your lips for the briefest second before he closes the space between you. His lips brush against yours, soft yet certain, and the world outside the Ferris wheel fades. When he pulls back, your breath is stolen, your thoughts scrambled. He watches you for a moment, then smirks. "I like you."

The words hit you like a freight train. Your brain stalls, your heartbeat hammering so loudly you think he might hear it.

"Wait, what?" you manage to choke out.

Riki laughs, though it sounds a little nervous. "I *like* you. More than just a friend. I thought maybe you’d noticed, but you’re kind of oblivious."

Your mouth opens, then closes. "I—" You swallow. "I like you too."

Riki blinks, then smirks. "You do?"

Before you can overthink it, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek. It’s barely there, but it’s enough to make him freeze.

He looks at you, eyes searching. "You can do better than that."

Your breath catches as he cups your chin and kisses you—soft but sure. When he pulls away, his smirk is back. "See? That wasn’t so hard."

You groan. "I regret everything."

Riki just laughs, threading his fingers through yours as the Ferris wheel continues its slow descent. As the ride slows, he squeezes your hand. "So, does this mean I get unlimited churros forever?"

You roll your eyes. "We’ll see."

And just like that, the night isn’t quite over yet.

networks: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films @kflixnet @daydreamnet

taglist: @minkilicious @cripplinghooman @r1naqv

[memorabxlia]

Love Unveild ━ 수빈

pairing: idol!soobin x fem!reader genre: fluff wc: 939 warnings: mild language, awkward situations, secret-keeping shenanigans summary: what happens when your year-long secret is nearly exposed after you run into Taehyun while sneaking to the bathroom at the dorm? a/n: hope you all enjoy this !

You’re used to keeping secrets.

It’s not that you want to hide your relationship with Soobin, but some things are just easier this way. Between the relentless schedules, the group dynamics, and the ever-watchful eyes of fans, there’s never been a right time to tell the other members. So, you and Soobin agreed: keep it quiet. For now.

It’s been going smoothly—suspiciously smoothly, even. No one’s questioned why Soobin suddenly spends more time on his phone, why his room is locked more often than not, or why he sneaks out late at night under the guise of “getting fresh air.”

But tonight? Tonight might just be your downfall.

You’re wrapped in Soobin’s hoodie, curled up in his bed while he scrolls through his phone, occasionally laughing at whatever dumb meme Beomgyu sent in the group chat. His free hand is tangled with yours under the blanket, squeezing your fingers every now and then, like he just likes the reminder that you’re there.

“This is nice,” you mumble sleepily.

Soobin hums, eyes still on his screen. “Hmm?”

“Being here. With you.”

That gets his attention. He glances down, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You’re being cute again.”

“You like when I’m cute.”

“Yeah, I do,” he admits, bringing your hand to his lips for a lazy kiss.

You sigh in contentment, already halfway to sleep, when a sharp pang in your bladder yanks you back to reality.

Crap.

You should’ve known this would happen. Drinking an entire bottle of water before bed? Rookie mistake. But there’s a problem—getting to the bathroom means sneaking through the dorm, and the dorm means possible members.

You shift under the blanket, debating whether you can just will the problem away.

Soobin notices immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“…I have to pee.”

He blinks. “Then… go?”

You shoot him a are-you-serious look. “What if someone sees me?”

“They’re all sleeping.”

“You don’t know that.”

He sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. “Okay, okay. Be quiet. If you hear anything, just hide.”

“Hide where, Soobin? Do you think I can just vanish into thin air?”

“You’re tiny. Maybe.”

You swat at him, rolling out of bed as quietly as possible. The floor is cold against your bare feet as you tiptoe to the door. You crack it open, peering into the dimly lit hallway.

Silence.

You take a deep breath and step out, closing the door behind you.

The bathroom is just down the hall. Easy. No big deal. You walk quickly, keeping your steps light, mentally patting yourself on the back for being so stealthy.

Then you turn a corner and—

“Oh, shit—”

You smack face-first into a solid chest.

The impact nearly knocks you over, but hands grab your arms, steadying you.

“What the—?”

Your stomach drops.

It’s Taehyun.

You freeze. He freezes. It’s the world’s worst staring contest.

“…Who are you?” he asks, voice still thick with sleep.

Oh. Right. He doesn’t have his contacts in.

Your brain short-circuits. You could lie. You could pretend to be a very short and non-threatening burglar. Maybe even a ghost.

But then his eyes narrow. He leans in, squinting.

“…Wait.” His grip on your arms tightens. “Why do you look familiar?”

Panic surges through you. You do the first thing that comes to mind:

You turn and run.

“Hey—wait—what the hell?!”

You make it about two steps before Taehyun catches your hoodie, yanking you back effortlessly.

“Nice try,” he says flatly, spinning you around. “Now tell me what you’re doing here before I wake everyone up.”

Your heart is racing. You try to think of a good excuse, but nothing comes. Your mouth opens—

“What’s going on?”

Soobin’s voice.

You turn your head just as his door creaks open, revealing his very sleepy, very confused face.

Taehyun follows your gaze, putting two and two together almost immediately.

His eyes widen.

“…Wait. No way.”

Soobin exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

Five minutes later, you’re all squeezed into Soobin’s room.

Taehyun sits on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, looking at you both like you just told him you’ve been secretly raising a pet tiger in the dorm.

“So…” he starts. “How long?”

You glance at Soobin. He sighs. “Almost a year.”

“A year?” Taehyun’s voice rises in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Keep your voice down,” Soobin hisses.

“I—dude. A whole year? How? Why?”

Soobin rubs his face. “It’s complicated.”

“No, it’s really not,” Taehyun deadpans. “You two are dating. That’s not complicated. What is complicated is the fact that you thought keeping it a secret from us was a good idea.”

You shift uncomfortably. “We just… didn’t want to make things weird. Or cause unnecessary drama. Or—”

“Or deal with Beomgyu being insufferable about it?” Taehyun finishes.

A beat of silence.

“…Yes,” Soobin admits.

Taehyun actually laughs. “Okay. That’s fair.”

You exhale in relief. “So… you’re not mad?”

“I mean, I should be,” Taehyun says. “But honestly? I’m just impressed you guys managed to keep it quiet this long. I assumed Soobin was sneaking off to play games or something. Turns out he’s just whipped.”

Soobin groans. “Can you not?”

Taehyun grins. “Oh, I absolutely can.”

He pauses, considering something. “So, what now? Are you telling the others?”

Soobin and you exchange a look.

“…Not yet,” Soobin says. “Just… not yet.”

Taehyun hums, then shrugs. “Alright. Your secret’s safe with me. But you owe me for this.”

You raise a brow. “What do you want?”

A slow, mischievous smile spreads across Taehyun’s face.

“You’ll see.”

And just like that, your secret isn’t just yours anymore.

It’s Taehyun’s, too.

networks: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films @kflixnet @daydreamnet

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welcome to KFLIXNET, @sxmmerberries, @memorabxlia, @noircheols, @sanaxo-o, @paradise-world, @hoonsita, @hhaechansmoless, @swytstars, and @starriniqhts!

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800 NOTES?!!! THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!

Tied Up ━ 방찬

genre: smut summary: “It’s long enough to tie you to the bed.” warnings: language, bondage, oral (fem receiving), begging, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap up irl!), Chan is referenced as Chris in this, I most definitely forgot something pairing: boyfriend!bangchan x fem!reader wc: 1.2k a/n: DAY 12!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

The room smells like pine and cinnamon, a lingering reminder of the Christmas morning chaos. The discarded wrapping paper is scattered across the floor, remnants of gifts exchanged with laughter and delight. You’re perched on the edge of the bed, holding a long piece of red ribbon, about to toss it into the trash when Chris stops you.

“Hey, don’t throw that away,” he says, his voice low and teasing. His eyes gleam with mischief as he plucks the ribbon from your fingers, letting it slide through his hands like silk.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “And what exactly are you planning to do with this? Tie up some more presents?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer. His body radiates warmth, and you feel the heat of him even before he touches you. “Oh, no. This has a much better use.” He leans in, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispers, “It’s long enough to tie you to the bed.”

Your stomach flips, a mix of surprise and anticipation coiling tight inside you. “Is that so?” you murmur, your voice trembling just slightly. The idea sends a shiver down your spine, but not one of fear—no, it’s something far more electric.

Chris smirks, his hand trailing up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You’ve been teasing me all morning,” he says, his tone playful but laced with something darker, needier. “Every time you bent over to pick up a gift, every time you leaned forward to grab a cookie… you’ve been driving me crazy. And now…” He holds up the ribbon, letting it dangle between his fingers. “Now I think it’s my turn to have a little fun.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “And what if I say no?”

His grin widens, and there’s a glint in his eye that makes your knees weak. “You won’t.”

Before you can protest, he’s gently pushing you back onto the bed, the soft comforter cushioning your fall. The ribbon slips around your wrists, cool and smooth against your skin. You gasp as he tugs lightly, testing the knot, and then secures your hands to the headboard. The sensation is strange but thrilling, the way the ribbon bites just enough to remind you that you’re at his mercy.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice dripping with faux concern.

You tug experimentally at the restraints, feeling the ribbon hold firm. “Not bad,” you admit, trying to sound casual despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

Chris laughs, a deep, rich sound that fills the room. “Good. Because I’m just getting started.”

He kneels between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs. His touch is warm, possessive, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as it travels over your body. Slowly, deliberately, he traces patterns on your skin, his fingertips skimming higher and higher until they brush against the fabric of your panties.

You bite your lip, arching into his touch, but he pulls back, smirking. “Not yet,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “I want you to beg for it.”

You groan, frustration mixing with arousal. “Chris…”

“Shh,” he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips. “Patience.”

He drags his hands back down your thighs, his touch feather-light. Then, without warning, he brings his palm down sharply against the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The sting catches you off guard, and you yelp, your hips jerking involuntarily.

“Sensitive, huh?” he teases, his voice dark with amusement. He does it again, this time on the other side, and you squirm, the sensation mingling pain with pleasure in a way that leaves you breathless.

“Chris, please,” you whimper, your voice breaking. The ribbon tightens as you pull against it, your body straining toward him.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your hipbone. “Please what?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin.

You moan, unable to form coherent words. He takes that as encouragement, his mouth moving lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your thigh. When he reaches the juncture of your legs, he pauses, his breath ghosting over your aching core.

“Tell me,” he demands, his voice a growl.

“Eat me out,” you plead, desperate for relief. “Please, Chris, please.”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer. In one swift motion, he yanks your panties aside and buries his face between your legs, his tongue delving deep into your slick folds. The sensation is overwhelming, and you cry out, your hands clenching into fists above your head.

He moans against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His tongue flicks over your clit, fast and relentless, and you writhe beneath him, helpless under the onslaught of pleasure. Every lick, every suck, feels like it’s lighting you on fire from the inside out.

“So good,” he growls, his voice muffled against you. “You taste fucking incredible.”

His hunger is insatiable, his movements almost frenzied as he devours you like a man starved. You can feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your back arching off the bed as you hurtle toward the edge.

“Chris, I’m—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as he sucks hard on your clit, tipping you over the edge. Pleasure explodes through you, white-hot and all-consuming, and you scream his name as you come undone.

He doesn’t let up, his tongue coaxing every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body. By the time he finally pulls away, you’re a wrung-out mess, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. He climbs up your body, settling between your legs, and you can feel the hardness of him pressing against your thigh.

“Need you,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

“You’ll get me,” he promises, his eyes dark with lust. “But first…” He grabs the end of the ribbon, slowly pulling it free from the headboard. Your arms fall limply to your sides, but before you can move them, he’s gathering your wrists together and securing them once more, this time behind your back.

“Chris,” you protest weakly, though you’re too spent to put up much of a fight.

He silences you with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he positions himself at your entrance. “Trust me,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re going to love this.”

And then he’s inside you, filling you completely in one fierce thrust. You gasp, your nails digging into your palms as he sets a brutal pace, fucking you deep and hard. Every stroke pushes you closer to the edge again, your body already wound tight from your last orgasm.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips as he slams into you. “So tight, so perfect.”

You can’t speak, can’t think, can only feel as he drives into you with unrelenting force. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your combined moans echoing off the walls.

“Cum for me again,” he commands, his voice raw with need. “I want to feel you—”

The words are cut off as your body convulses around him, another wave of pleasure crashing over you. He follows close behind, his release spilling deep inside you as he collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged.

For a moment, you both lie there, tangled together in the aftermath. Then, with a wicked grin, Chris sits up, his eyes gleaming with renewed mischief. “Think we should save the rest of the ribbon for later?”

❥﹒ stray kids taglist: @minkilicious @casemoa143 @instabull @lice @amarecerasus

[memorabxlia]

Shoulder to Lean On ━ 연준

genre: fluff summary: on an early morning train ride you fall asleep on yeonjun's shoulder. Startled but unable to move away, he wrestles with his emotions before ultimately relaxing, letting the quiet moment linger. warnings: implied friends to lovers, slow burn (maybe), physical touch, yeonjun is lowkey downbad for reader pairing: bestfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader wc: 935 a/n: requested by anon!

The morning had started with chaos.

You had barely managed to drag yourself out of bed, cursing the universe for scheduling such an early departure. Your suitcase was still half-packed from the night before, a result of your procrastination and the naive belief that “it won’t take long in the morning.” Spoiler alert: it did.

Yeonjun had shown up at your door bright and early, coffee in one hand, his phone in the other. He had leaned against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow at your disheveled appearance.

“Wow,” he had deadpanned, taking a slow sip of his drink. “I thought I was bad at mornings.”

You had only glared at him, snatching the coffee straight from his hand and taking a sip without asking. He had let you, smirking as he watched you wake up little by little with each gulp.

The two of you were headed out of the city for a weekend trip with a small group of friends, an impromptu getaway planned during a late-night group chat discussion. A few days away from the noise, from deadlines, from the overwhelming routine of everyday life—it sounded perfect. And it would’ve been, if it weren’t for the ungodly hour of your departure.

The train station had been packed, filled with groggy travelers clutching their suitcases, their own cups of much-needed coffee. Yeonjun had been the one to steer you through the crowd, his hand briefly settling on the small of your back when you almost veered in the wrong direction.

The train itself was a sleek, modern thing, with wide windows that promised beautiful countryside views. You had barely paid attention, focused instead on securing a window seat and making sure you didn’t forget your bag in the overhead compartment.

That’s how you ended up here, nestled into the cushioned seat, the gentle hum of the train vibrating beneath you.

And Yeonjun, of course, had ended up beside you.

You hadn’t thought much of it at first. He was your friend. It was natural. He had plopped down next to you without hesitation, stretching his legs out and sighing dramatically.

“Wake me up when we get there,” he had joked, pulling his hoodie over his head. “Actually, don’t. Let me sleep forever.”

You had laughed, rolling your eyes as you glanced out the window. The city had already started to blur into stretches of green fields, the buildings giving way to open spaces and distant hills. It was beautiful, in the kind of way that made your body relax before your mind even registered it.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep.

But the train rocked like a lullaby, the soft morning light streaming through the window warming your skin. You had tried to fight it at first, blinking rapidly to stay awake, but the exhaustion from your rushed morning and the early hour finally caught up with you.

Your body had leaned, just slightly at first.

And then all at once.

Right onto Yeonjun’s shoulder.

The world faded around you, the steady rhythm of the train lulling you deeper into sleep. The warmth beside you was comforting, solid. You sighed softly, your body unconsciously molding to the space given to you.

Yeonjun stirs, blinking groggily as the train rumbles beneath him. His mind feels sluggish, still caught in the remnants of sleep, and for a moment, he doesn’t register why his right shoulder feels oddly warm.

Then he glances down.

And his breath catches.

You’re there, curled up against him, your head resting lightly on his shoulder, face relaxed in sleep.

His first instinct is to freeze. And he does. Every muscle in his body goes stiff as if the wrong move might startle you awake. He barely even breathes, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs in a way that has nothing to do with the rocking of the train.

Oh. Oh.

You had fallen asleep. On him.

His mind scrambles for what to do. Wake you up? Shift away? Make a joke? He should do something—anything—before the warmth of your weight against him gets too comfortable, before his heart starts reading too much into this.

But you sigh, just the faintest little exhale, burrowing slightly deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. And suddenly, Yeonjun can’t move.

Because the moment is nice. Too nice.

The warmth of your cheek against his shoulder, the way your arm brushes against his—it’s the kind of thing he shouldn’t be paying attention to, but he is.

He swallows hard, staring straight ahead at the seat in front of him as if that will somehow stop the thoughts racing through his head. It’s fine. It’s just sleep. You were tired. That’s all.

Except he can feel the way his heartbeat stutters in his chest, the way his skin feels hyperaware of every point where you’re touching him.

And worse?

He doesn’t hate it.

His lips part like he might say something, even though there’s no one around to hear it. But before he can even think of a word, he feels it—

A shift.

A tiny, barely-there nuzzle against his shoulder, so light it could’ve been accidental.

Yeonjun inhales sharply.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope. He is not about to freak out over this.

But then he notices something else.

Your breathing—slow, steady, soft.

You’re not waking up.

You’re staying.

Something in Yeonjun’s chest clenches.

He exhales through his nose, his head tilting the tiniest fraction, barely enough to be noticeable. But suddenly, the tension in his shoulders melts, and before he can stop himself, his body relaxes too.

Just a little.

Just enough to let you stay.

❥﹒ networks: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

❥﹒ txt taglist: @minkilicious @casemoa143 @instabull @lice

[memorabxlia]

hiiiiii, can you please do choi yeonjun's reaction to you falling asleep on his shoulder during a trip? (if your requests are open)

Have a nice day/night!

sorry it took so long lovely! hope you like it! ♡

[memorabxlia]

When Your Sick ━ 투바투

☆pairing¡! ot5 x fem!reader (separate) ☆genre¡! fluff, little bit of angst (maybe) ☆warnings¡! mentions illness, mentions food, just the boys being a bit dramatic ☆summary¡! how each member cares for you when your sick ☆wc¡! 759 ☆a/n¡! a thank you for reaching 200 FOLLOWERS!!! I appreciate all the love and support from each and every one of you! It means the world. ♡ ☆nets¡! @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

Yeonjun

Yeonjun shows up at your place, a single bottle of orange juice in hand and sunglasses perched on his head as if he's about to perform some grand feat.

"Alright, babe," he declares, handing you the juice. "This is the miracle cure that's going to save you."

"It's...orange juice?" you say, raising an eyebrow.

"Not just any orange juice!" he insists, looking wounded. "It has vitamin C—nature's medicine."

He doesn't stop there. Yeonjun sets up a whole "healing" routine, including relaxing music, candle lighting, and even a pillow-fluffing demonstration. When you roll your eyes, he just grins. "Come on, a little drama never hurt anyone," he teases, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Even though it's totally over-the-top, you find yourself smiling at his antics. He knows exactly how to lighten the mood—and with him by your side, suddenly being sick doesn't feel so bad.

Soobin

You wake up feeling groggy and feverish, only to see Soobin's worried face hovering above yours. He's holding a giant thermos of soup, looking like he's on a high-stakes mission.

"Hey, babe, are you okay?" he asks for what feels like the hundredth time that morning, brushing a strand of hair off your forehead.

"I'm fine, Soobin," you groan, trying to reassure him.

But he isn't convinced. He insists on taking your temperature every half hour, jotting down each result in a little notebook he brought with him. Every few minutes, he asks if you need anything else—more soup, more blankets, more pillows—until you're bundled up like a burrito.

"Are you comfortable? Are you sure you're comfortable?" he keeps asking, eyes wide with concern.

"Yes, I promise," you say, though you can't help but laugh at his intensity. Soobin may be over-the-top, but there's no doubt he'd do anything to make you feel better—even if it means driving you a little crazy in the process.

Beomgyu

The minute Beomgyu hears you're feeling under the weather, he shows up ready to make fun of you just enough to cheer you up.

"Whoa, babe, you look...intense," he says with a smirk, settling down next to you. "Like, are you trying to scare people with this look?"

You groan and roll your eyes. "Wow, thanks, Gyu."

"What? I'm here to lift your spirits!" He grins, nudging you as he wraps a blanket around your shoulders. Despite the teasing, Beomgyu makes sure you're warm and comfortable, getting you snacks and water while continuing to poke fun at you just enough to keep you laughing.

By the end of the day, he's retelling stories and making goofy faces until you're practically wheezing with laughter. You realize his jokes are his way of showing he cares, and soon, you almost forget you're sick at all.

Taehyun

When Taehyun finds out you're sick, he shows up prepared like he's ready to run a full clinic out of your living room. He sets his duffle bag down with a serious look, taking in your tired expression.

"Alright, we're going to tackle this efficiently," he says, quickly unpacking a collection of supplies.

He organizes everything with military precision, lining up medicines by time and even pulling out a whiteboard (where did he get that?) to map out a full schedule for you: pills, water, soup, rest.

"Just follow the plan, babe. You'll feel better in no time," he says with a small smile, patting your hand.

You're a little overwhelmed by his intensity, but deep down, you feel taken care of in a way only Taehyun could manage. With him by your side, even something as tedious as getting over a cold suddenly feels like a breeze.

Huening Kai

Kai hears you're under the weather, and within minutes, he's at your door with an armful of snacks and a warm hoodie. As soon as he sees you, he gasps in sympathy, rushing over to hug you.

"Aw, my poor baby," he says, squeezing you tight. He pulls a blanket around both of you, settling down next to you and making sure you're cozy and warm.

He insists you eat some of the snacks he brought, despite your protests that you don't have much of an appetite. "A little bit of food will make you feel better, trust me," he says, holding out a piece of chocolate until you accept it.

For the rest of the day, he stays right by your side, softly chatting about his day, humming songs, and pulling you close every time you sneeze or cough. Before long, you're drifting off in his arms, comforted by his warmth and gentle care.

❥﹒ txt taglist: @minkilicious @casemoa143 @instabull @lice

[memorabxlia]

heyy lovelies!! the christmas event is finally over!! (even though it took me until February to complete😭) I'm curious to know what everyone's favorite fic was, my top three favorite fics to write for this event was probably Jungwon, Beomgyu and either Woonhak or Felix! I'll probably end up doing something like this again in the future but hopefully I'm way more prepared than this time haha.

[memorabxlia]

Tied Up ━ 방찬

genre: smut summary: “It’s long enough to tie you to the bed.” warnings: language, bondage, oral (fem receiving), begging, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap up irl!), Chan is referenced as Chris in this, I most definitely forgot something pairing: boyfriend!bangchan x fem!reader wc: 1.2k a/n: DAY 12!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

The room smells like pine and cinnamon, a lingering reminder of the Christmas morning chaos. The discarded wrapping paper is scattered across the floor, remnants of gifts exchanged with laughter and delight. You’re perched on the edge of the bed, holding a long piece of red ribbon, about to toss it into the trash when Chris stops you.

“Hey, don’t throw that away,” he says, his voice low and teasing. His eyes gleam with mischief as he plucks the ribbon from your fingers, letting it slide through his hands like silk.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued but skeptical. “And what exactly are you planning to do with this? Tie up some more presents?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he steps closer. His body radiates warmth, and you feel the heat of him even before he touches you. “Oh, no. This has a much better use.” He leans in, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispers, “It’s long enough to tie you to the bed.”

Your stomach flips, a mix of surprise and anticipation coiling tight inside you. “Is that so?” you murmur, your voice trembling just slightly. The idea sends a shiver down your spine, but not one of fear—no, it’s something far more electric.

Chris smirks, his hand trailing up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “You’ve been teasing me all morning,” he says, his tone playful but laced with something darker, needier. “Every time you bent over to pick up a gift, every time you leaned forward to grab a cookie… you’ve been driving me crazy. And now…” He holds up the ribbon, letting it dangle between his fingers. “Now I think it’s my turn to have a little fun.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “And what if I say no?”

His grin widens, and there’s a glint in his eye that makes your knees weak. “You won’t.”

Before you can protest, he’s gently pushing you back onto the bed, the soft comforter cushioning your fall. The ribbon slips around your wrists, cool and smooth against your skin. You gasp as he tugs lightly, testing the knot, and then secures your hands to the headboard. The sensation is strange but thrilling, the way the ribbon bites just enough to remind you that you’re at his mercy.

“Comfortable?” he asks, his voice dripping with faux concern.

You tug experimentally at the restraints, feeling the ribbon hold firm. “Not bad,” you admit, trying to sound casual despite the adrenaline coursing through you.

Chris laughs, a deep, rich sound that fills the room. “Good. Because I’m just getting started.”

He kneels between your legs, his hands resting on your thighs. His touch is warm, possessive, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as it travels over your body. Slowly, deliberately, he traces patterns on your skin, his fingertips skimming higher and higher until they brush against the fabric of your panties.

You bite your lip, arching into his touch, but he pulls back, smirking. “Not yet,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “I want you to beg for it.”

You groan, frustration mixing with arousal. “Chris…”

“Shh,” he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips. “Patience.”

He drags his hands back down your thighs, his touch feather-light. Then, without warning, he brings his palm down sharply against the tender flesh of your inner thigh. The sting catches you off guard, and you yelp, your hips jerking involuntarily.

“Sensitive, huh?” he teases, his voice dark with amusement. He does it again, this time on the other side, and you squirm, the sensation mingling pain with pleasure in a way that leaves you breathless.

“Chris, please,” you whimper, your voice breaking. The ribbon tightens as you pull against it, your body straining toward him.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your hipbone. “Please what?” he asks, his breath hot against your skin.

You moan, unable to form coherent words. He takes that as encouragement, his mouth moving lower, trailing kisses along the curve of your thigh. When he reaches the juncture of your legs, he pauses, his breath ghosting over your aching core.

“Tell me,” he demands, his voice a growl.

“Eat me out,” you plead, desperate for relief. “Please, Chris, please.”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer. In one swift motion, he yanks your panties aside and buries his face between your legs, his tongue delving deep into your slick folds. The sensation is overwhelming, and you cry out, your hands clenching into fists above your head.

He moans against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His tongue flicks over your clit, fast and relentless, and you writhe beneath him, helpless under the onslaught of pleasure. Every lick, every suck, feels like it’s lighting you on fire from the inside out.

“So good,” he growls, his voice muffled against you. “You taste fucking incredible.”

His hunger is insatiable, his movements almost frenzied as he devours you like a man starved. You can feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each passing second. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your back arching off the bed as you hurtle toward the edge.

“Chris, I’m—” you start, but the words catch in your throat as he sucks hard on your clit, tipping you over the edge. Pleasure explodes through you, white-hot and all-consuming, and you scream his name as you come undone.

He doesn’t let up, his tongue coaxing every last drop of pleasure from your trembling body. By the time he finally pulls away, you’re a wrung-out mess, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with admiration. He climbs up your body, settling between your legs, and you can feel the hardness of him pressing against your thigh.

“Need you,” you whisper, your voice hoarse.

“You’ll get me,” he promises, his eyes dark with lust. “But first…” He grabs the end of the ribbon, slowly pulling it free from the headboard. Your arms fall limply to your sides, but before you can move them, he’s gathering your wrists together and securing them once more, this time behind your back.

“Chris,” you protest weakly, though you’re too spent to put up much of a fight.

He silences you with a kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he positions himself at your entrance. “Trust me,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re going to love this.”

And then he’s inside you, filling you completely in one fierce thrust. You gasp, your nails digging into your palms as he sets a brutal pace, fucking you deep and hard. Every stroke pushes you closer to the edge again, your body already wound tight from your last orgasm.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips as he slams into you. “So tight, so perfect.”

You can’t speak, can’t think, can only feel as he drives into you with unrelenting force. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your combined moans echoing off the walls.

“Cum for me again,” he commands, his voice raw with need. “I want to feel you—”

The words are cut off as your body convulses around him, another wave of pleasure crashing over you. He follows close behind, his release spilling deep inside you as he collapses on top of you, his breathing ragged.

For a moment, you both lie there, tangled together in the aftermath. Then, with a wicked grin, Chris sits up, his eyes gleaming with renewed mischief. “Think we should save the rest of the ribbon for later?”

❥﹒ stray kids taglist: @minkilicious @casemoa143 @instabull @lice @amarecerasus

[memorabxlia]

❆﹚﹒AB6IX LIBRARY !

fluff (🦋), angst (‼️), suggestive (💋), smut (❤️‍🔥), crack/humor (✨), hurt/comfort (❤️‍🩹), triggering topics (📍), smau (📱), drabbles (🎧), headcanons (🌀)

ִ ✦ . Woong ⊹　 ❜ ᵎ

nothing here yet !

ִ ✦ . Donghyun ⊹　 ❜ ᵎ

nothing here yet !

ִ ✦ . Woojin ⊹　 ❜ ᵎ

Peppermint Bark | 🦋‼️ [915] ─ “I didn’t have anyone else to spend Christmas with. Hope you don’t mind if I spend it with you.”

ִ ✦ . Daehwi ⊹　 ❜ ᵎ

nothing here yet !

[memorabxlia]

Peppermint Bark ━ 우진

genre: fluff summary: “I didn’t have anyone else to spend Christmas with. Hope you don’t mind if I spend it with you.” warnings: mentions family conflict, mentions loneliness, skinship, teasing, crying (that's all I think) pairing: nonidol!woojin x fem!reader wc: 915 a/n: DAY 11!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

The knock on your door comes just as you’re about to settle down with a cup of cocoa and a movie you’ve seen too many times to admit. You’re not expecting anyone—who would come out in this kind of weather? Snow has been falling steadily all day, blanketing the streets and turning your small apartment building into a quiet, wintry haven.

You pull the door open, the cold air rushing in and prickling your skin, and there he is: Woojin. His cheeks are pink from the cold, his dark hair dusted with snowflakes. He’s holding a plastic bag that’s dangerously close to tearing, and there’s a hopeful, almost sheepish look on his face.

“Hey,” he says, his breath fogging in the air between you. “I noticed last time I was here that you didn’t have any peppermint bark. I know you love it this time of year, so I figured I’d bring you some.”

You blink, surprised. Woojin, your best friend, who had texted you earlier about spending Christmas with his family, is now standing at your door with a bag of sweets.

“That’s thoughtful of you,” you say, stepping aside so he can come in. He doesn’t hesitate, stomping his boots on the mat before stepping inside.

He grins, holding up the bag like it’s a treasure chest. “I also brought some snacks. You got hot chocolate?”

“Of course I have hot chocolate,” you reply, closing the door behind him. The warmth of the apartment wraps around you both, and Woojin lets out a contented sigh, like he’s been cold all day and finally found a fireplace.

The two of you settle in the living room, blankets piled high and mugs of hot chocolate steaming on the coffee table. The movie plays on the screen, filling the room with soft dialogue and holiday cheer. Woojin is relaxed, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to his visit than just peppermint bark.

“Did your family kick you out for being too loud again?” you tease, glancing at him with a knowing smirk.

You expect him to laugh, to come back with some sarcastic remark, but instead, he goes silent. His usual quick wit doesn’t show up, and he just stares at the screen, lips pressed together.

Something’s wrong.

You don’t push, though. If Woojin wants to tell you, he will. Instead, you shift on the couch and go back to watching the movie.

After a while, Woojin hesitates but ends up beside you, closer than before. You don’t mind it. You like his company. But when he lays his head on your shoulder, his body lightly shaking, you glance down and realize—he’s silently trying to keep you from noticing that he’s tearing up.

Your heart clenches. You don’t say anything. Instead, you shift, wrapping your arms around him and rubbing his back softly.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, voice barely above a breath. “Take your time.”

Woojin stays like that for a while, his quiet sniffles the only sound beside the movie. You don’t rush him. You just hold him, offering warmth and comfort until his breathing evens out.

Finally, in a voice so small you almost don’t hear it, he begins to explain.

“My parents had this huge argument,” he murmurs. “It was bad. I tried to calm things down, but it just got worse. Then they turned on me, like I was the problem. Like I shouldn’t have even come home for Christmas.”

Your grip tightens around him.

“I left before they could say anything worse,” he continues, his voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t know where else to go. I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”

“You’re not alone,” you say immediately, without hesitation. “You have me. You always have me.”

Woojin exhales a shaky breath, pressing his forehead against your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

You don’t say anything more. You don’t need to. You just hold him closer, letting the warmth between you chase away the cold of the outside world.

After a few minutes, you nudge him lightly. “You know what? Since it’s Christmas, I’m willing to make a rare exception.”

He looks up at you, eyes still glassy. “What exception?”

You grab the box of peppermint bark and hold it out to him. “You can have some of my peppermint bark.”

Woojin blinks, staring at you in disbelief. “Wait… seriously?”

You nod solemnly. “Just this once.”

“Wow,” he breathes, taking a piece like it’s the most precious thing in the world. “I must really be down bad if you’re sharing your peppermint bark with me.”

“You are,” you agree, smiling. “And I’m a saint for this.”

He laughs, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. You scroll through the movies and pick a different one, something lighter, something you know he’ll enjoy. As the new film plays, Woojin relaxes against your side, munching on the peppermint bark with an occasional contented hum.

Somewhere along the way, the exhaustion catches up to both of you. The warmth of the blankets, the soft flicker of Christmas lights, and the quiet comfort of each other’s presence lull you into sleep.

When you wake up later, the credits are rolling, and Woojin is still curled up against you, his breathing slow and even. You smile to yourself, pulling the blanket up a little higher over both of you.

Maybe the night hadn’t started great for Woojin, but at least now, Christmas didn’t feel so lonely for either of you.

❥﹒ ab6ix taglist: @minkilicious @amarecerasus

[memorabxlia]

Christmas Morning ━ 연준

genre: smut summary: you give your boyfriend an early morning christmas gift warnings: blowjob, language, unprotected sex (wrap up irl!), riding (def forgot something) pairing: boyfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader wc: 1.2k a/n: DAY 10!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

You woke up to the soft glow of Christmas morning, the room bathed in that quiet, magical light that only comes when snow blankets the world outside. The air smelled faintly of pine from the tree in the corner, and the faint sound of carols played somewhere in the distance. You stretched lazily, feeling his warmth beside you, and turned to see him still asleep, his face soft, his breathing even.

But then your eyes dropped lower, and you noticed it.

The outline of his cock, hard and straining against the blankets, tenting the fabric in a way that made your stomach clench with desire. You bit your lip, your heart starting to race as you let your hand drift down, brushing lightly over the bulge. He shifted in his sleep, a soft murmur escaping his lips, but he didn’t wake.

Good.

You didn’t want him awake. Not yet.

You slid down in the bed, the sheets rustling softly as you moved, and you peeled the blanket back just enough to expose him. He was already hard, his cock resting against his stomach, the tip glistening slightly. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you didn’t hesitate, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the head, your tongue flicking out to taste him.

He stirred, his hips lifting slightly, and you smiled to yourself, wrapping your hand around the base of him as you took him into your mouth, your lips sliding down his length with practiced ease. You started slow, teasing him with light sucks and gentle strokes, your tongue dragging along the underside of him as you pulled back, only to sink down again.

“Mmm…” he mumbled, still half-asleep, and you felt his hand brush against your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as you worked him deeper, your head bobbing in a steady rhythm.

“That’s it,” you whispered, pulling off just long enough to speak before taking him back in, your hand working in tandem with your mouth as you felt him start to harden even more, his cock swelling against your tongue.

“God, that feels good…” he groaned, his voice still heavy with sleep, but you could hear the edge of desperation creeping in, the way he was trying to hold back, to let you control this.

You hummed again, the vibration making him shudder, and you picked up the pace, your hand tightening around him as your mouth moved faster, your lips sealed tight as you sucked him in, your tongue working over the sensitive spot just beneath the head.

“Fuck, fuck…” he gasped, his hips lifting off the bed now, his hand tightening in your hair as he held you there, not pushing, just wanting to feel you. You let him, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the feel of him against your tongue, the way he filled your mouth, the subtle salty taste of him as he grew harder, thicker.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his voice rough now, strained, and you felt a thrill run through you at the words, at the way he was falling apart because of you. You pulled back again, your lips slick and swollen, and you looked up at him, your eyes locking with his as you took him back in, your tongue swirling around the tip before sinking down again, taking him as deep as you could.

“Jesus… I’m not gonna last…” he warned, his voice tight, and you smiled around him, your hand moving faster now, your mouth working him in time with your strokes, and you felt him tense, his cock pulsing against your tongue as he came, his release spilling into your mouth as he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow.

You swallowed, your lips still wrapped around him as you milked him through it, your hand slowing as his body relaxed, his grip on your hair slackening as he collapsed back onto the bed, his breathing heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

You pulled off, licking your lips as you sat back on your heels, watching him as he tried to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded but still fixed on you, his expression a mix of awe and satisfaction.

“Merry Christmas,” you said softly, your voice teasing, and he laughed, a low, breathless sound that made your stomach flutter.

“Best fucking present ever,” he muttered, his voice still rough, and you grinned, leaning down to kiss him, your lips still tasting of him as he reached up to pull you closer, his hands sliding down your back as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours.

You knew this wasn’t over. Not yet.

But for now, you were content to just lie there, wrapped in his arms, the warmth of his body against yours as the snow fell softly outside, the world quiet and still.

“Take me again,” he whispered against your lips, his voice low and urgent, and you smiled, your fingers trailing down his chest as you moved to straddle him, your body pressing against his as he groaned, his hands gripping your hips.

“You’re insatiable,” you teased, your voice breathy as you leaned down to kiss him again, your body pressing against his as you felt him harden beneath you, his cock already straining against your stomach.

“For you? Always,” he muttered, and you laughed, the sound muffled as he kissed you again, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he lifted you, guiding you onto him, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance as you sank down, taking him in, your body stretching to accommodate him as he groaned, his hands tightening on your hips.

“Fuck…” he breathed, his voice ragged, and you smiled, your hands braced on his chest as you started to move, your hips rolling as you took him deeper, your body trembling with the intensity of it.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, your voice shaking as you rode him, your nails digging into his chest as he thrust up into you, his hands tightening on your hips as he guided you, his body moving in time with yours as you lost yourself in the rhythm of it, in the way he filled you, stretched you, made you feel so fucking good.

“Cum for me,” he growled, his voice low and rough, and you gasped, your body tightening around him as you felt it building, the tension coiling in your stomach as he thrust up into you, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.

“Oh God…” you moaned, your head falling back as you came, your body shaking as he thrust into you again, his hands gripping your hips as he drove you over the edge, your release washing over you in waves as he groaned, his own release following close behind, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, his hands tightening on your hips as he held you there, his body trembling beneath yours.

“Fuck…” he breathed, his voice rough, and you collapsed against him, your body still trembling as he wrapped his arms around you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you lay there, your body still connected to his as the world outside faded away, the only sound the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

❥﹒ txt taglist: @minkilicious @casemoa143 @instabull @lice @amarecerasus

[memorabxlia]

Wrapping Disaster ━ 기호

genre: fluff summary: “If that’s your best job at wrapping, I’d say Santa needs to hire some new elves.” warnings: est. relationship, mild teasing/banter, defintely holiday themed, slight reference to traditions pairing: nonidol!keeho x fem!reader wc: 1.1k a/n: DAY 9!!! nets: @blossomnet @k-labels @k-films

You’ve always prided yourself on being prepared for special occasions, but somehow, this year, time slipped through your fingers. The gathering with your friends is only a few hours away, and the floor of your living room is already a war zone of wrapping paper, tape, and half-finished presents. You sit cross-legged in the middle of it all, a half-empty roll of candy cane-striped paper in your hands, and a deep sense of inadequacy growing in your chest as you stare at the unevenly folded box in front of you.

Wrapping isn’t your forte, and it shows.

You’re mid-struggle, holding down a stubborn piece of tape with one hand while trying to keep the paper from crinkling too much with the other, when you hear the front door open.

“Hey, babe, I’m home!” Keeho’s familiar voice calls out from the entryway.

A small surge of relief courses through you—at least you’re not alone in this chaos anymore. You glance toward the door as he steps into the room, his black hoodie slightly dusted with snowflakes from outside, his face lighting up when he sees you. That smile of his never fails to make your heart do a little flip.

But the smile quickly turns into something else, something closer to barely-contained amusement as he takes in the scene in front of him. His dark eyes widen as he slowly sets his bag down.

“Uh…” Keeho clears his throat and gestures broadly to the mess around you. “What exactly am I walking into?”

You groan, tossing the useless piece of tape to the side. “It’s supposed to be a gift-wrapping session. It’s turned into a disaster zone.”

Keeho steps further into the room, hands on his hips, and surveys your handiwork—or lack thereof. There’s a lumpy attempt at a bow on one box, a tear down the side of another, and one particularly tragic-looking present that seems to have more tape than paper holding it together.

He snorts. “If that’s your best job at wrapping, I’d say Santa needs to hire some new elves.”

You glare at him, though there’s no real heat behind it. “Don’t mock me. I’m trying my best.”

Keeho plops down on the floor across from you, grabbing the nearest box and turning it over in his hands like it’s some sort of scientific specimen. “Trying your best? Babe, this looks like it got into a fight with a raccoon. And lost.”

“Okay, rude.” You snatch the box back, your cheeks heating. “If you’re so great at wrapping, why don’t you help?”

“I will,” he says, smirking. “But only because I can’t bear to watch you butcher any more of these poor, innocent gifts.”

“Wow, thanks for the support,” you say dryly.

Keeho grins, leaning forward to grab a fresh roll of wrapping paper. “Step aside. Watch and learn, amateur.”

You scoff but sit back, crossing your arms as he gets to work. Keeho moves with the kind of confidence that makes you both impressed and mildly annoyed. Within minutes, he’s folded the paper neatly around the gift, taped it in place, and added a ribbon for good measure.

“Ta-da,” he says, holding up the perfectly wrapped box like it’s a trophy.

“Okay, show-off,” you mutter, though you can’t help but smile. “Where did you learn to wrap like that, anyway?”

Keeho shrugs, grabbing another box. “Years of practice. My mom made me help her every Christmas when I was a kid. She said if I was going to be Santa’s helper, I had to do it right.”

You laugh, picturing a tiny Keeho diligently wrapping presents under his mom’s watchful eye. “Well, aren’t you the holiday prodigy?”

“Someone has to be,” he teases. “Clearly, it’s not you.”

You reach over and playfully smack his arm. “Keep talking, and I’ll make you wrap all of them by yourself.”

“Honestly, that might be for the best,” he says, winking at you. “But don’t worry, I’ll teach you. Consider it a bonding activity.”

“Oh, lucky me,” you say, rolling your eyes. But secretly, you’re grateful.

The two of you settle into a rhythm after that. Keeho demonstrates his wrapping technique—measuring the paper before cutting it, folding the edges just so—and you do your best to replicate it. It’s slow going at first, but with his guidance (and a lot of teasing), you start to get the hang of it.

“This isn’t so bad,” you admit after successfully wrapping your first present without any glaring mistakes.

“See?” Keeho says, flashing you a proud smile. “You’re a natural—well, sort of.”

“Don’t push it,” you warn, but you’re smiling too.

The hours pass in a blur of wrapping, chatting, and bursts of laughter. Keeho keeps up a steady stream of commentary, from critiquing your technique to sharing stories about his family’s holiday traditions. You tell him about your own memories of chaotic gift exchanges with friends and family, and he listens with genuine interest, occasionally chiming in with his own thoughts.

By the time you’re down to the last few gifts, the initial stress you felt has completely melted away. The floor is still a mess, but the pile of beautifully wrapped presents is proof of your joint effort.

“See? We make a good team,” Keeho says, leaning back on his hands and surveying your work with satisfaction.

“We do,” you agree, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Thanks for saving the day.”

“Anytime,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “But seriously, next year, let’s start earlier. My wrapping skills are great, but even I have my limits.”

You laugh, snuggling closer to him. “Deal. But you’re still doing the ribbons. I’m officially delegating that to you.”

“Fair enough,” he says with a chuckle.

The two of you sit there for a moment, surrounded by the remnants of your wrapping marathon, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. It’s not just about the gifts or the party—it’s about moments like this, where everything feels right simply because Keeho is by your side.

“By the way,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence, “you owe me a reward for all my hard work.”

“Oh, do I?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you have in mind?”

Keeho grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Cookies. Lots of cookies. And maybe a kiss, if you’re feeling generous.”

You laugh, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “Deal. But only because you’re the best gift-wrapper I know.”

“I’ll take it,” he says, wrapping an arm around you. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Merry Christmas, Keeho.”

❥﹒ p1harmony taglist: @minkilicious @amarecerasus