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giddyfatherchris · 3 days

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📱skz texts —how they react/comfort you (when you're going through a rough patch with a friend)

| including. bang chan, lee know

warnings. mentions of homophobia, anxiety and depression (but not going in depth with any of these subjects)

a/n. FINALLY!! channie and lee know’s part babyyyy honestly i kept procrastinating but today i decided enough is enough.😤 again, these are not in order but i cannot be 🎶booOoOoOthereeeddd🎶 so :) hope you enjoy mwah xxx

changbin, seungmin & i.n

hyunjin, han & felix

Lee Know

He knew from your texts you were not in your normal state. You were usually such a bubbly person, but when you answered so drily to his questions, he knew something was wrong.

As he waited for you to come home, he couldn't help but pace in his apartment. You weren't living together yet, but you spent so much time at his flat that you claimed it as your second home comfortably. In the 15 minutes it took for you to arrive, Lee Know had prepared himself for many scenarios, but he could have never predicted how you opened harshly the door and slammed it shut. Your ritual of crouching on the floor, calling for his three cats, was brutally ignored as you stomped to the kitchen.

"Hi, baby." He tentatively tried. Cautious, he kept his distance as you grunted in answer. You opened the fridge door, looked for a milli second before you closed it, then repeated the same process with the pantry. You made yourself a glass of water, didn't even take a sip, and grumbled as you looked in front of you, not really seeing anything. You abandoned it on the counter, ready to stomp away, when Lee Know put himself in your trajectory.

"What's going on?"

You would have kept walking if he hadn't grabbed you by the shoulders and blocked you from carrying on.

"Uh?" you looked at him as if you were just now seeing him. "Nothing, something at work, it's enraging."

"Then please tell me so I can know who to kill," he replied in an equally angered tone. His hold on your shoulders tightened slightly at the thought someone had hurt you.

You looked at him, surprised. "What, kill someone?"

"Please, Y/n. I've never seen you like this. I don't know what happened, but for it to put you in that state, I'm guessing it's pretty serious."

He had to pull it out of you, but you finally explained how you discovered one of your coworkers, who you considered a friend, was, in fact, a raging homophobic, queer-hating asshole. When you first heard him comment on someone else wearing a rainbow pin, you had laughed it off, thinking he was being dumb, but he kept adding on, and you realized, horrified, that he was being serious.

Cherry on top, when you told him you were pansexual, he had stared at you with this idiotic air and asked if you were attracted to kitchen appliances. It ended up with you terminating that 'friendship' and leaving the office completely enraged.

Your boyfriend listened carefully to your story. His piercing eyes set on you when he finally stated, "I have no idea how you managed not to smack him in the face."

You let out a dry chuckle, telling the story again only egged you on, and brought up a familiar gloom you hadn't felt in a while. Immediately, he noticed the change in your demeanor, how the burning rage had simmered to a profound sadness. "Hey, it's okay, you can report the bastard, you know. He can't go around saying stuff like that."

You wrapped your arms around your middle, your lower lip softly shaking as you exhaled. "It's been a long time since I've been directly in contact with someone like that. I'm mad at myself for not seeing it maybe others knew, and they considered me badly for hanging out with him. I feel so bad."

He pulled you to him, softly resting his chin on top of your head. "Some people are really good at hiding who they truly are. He never said anything before, you never could have known."

"I know, but I somewhat feel like a traitor to my community," you covered your face with your hands before hiding in his chest. "Is that dumb?"

He softly pushed you back and leveled his gaze with yours. "That is a little dumb because you did not betray your community, okay? You can't betray someone if you've also been fooled. And you know what's the best thing to do now? Report his ass. I'm sure if you do, there will be others who feel comfortable speaking up."

Your eyes lit up at his suggestion. "You're right. I want queer people to feel safe at work. The thought that I might have been seen as someone who would threaten that makes me sick. But if I speak up, that could change. Maybe we could even create a comity to do sensibilization about homophobia in the workplace." The gloom in your eyes was replaced with a fire. "One thing is sure, I won't let it happen again.

He gave you an adorable grin as he softly grabbed your chin. "My little fighter, I'm proud of you."

Your eyes disappeared into a happy smile as you hugged him again. "Thank you for always supporting me, although I am slightly scared of how little it took to convince you to kill someone."

He laughed before grabbing you over his shoulder and whispered with a diabolical expression. "You shouldn't."

Because really, there shouldn't be a doubt in your mind that this man was ready to make anyone who hurt you pay a terrible price.

Bang Chan

The leader rubbed his hands on his face in an attempt to wipe away all the exhaustion. He looked back at his computer screen, feeling a violent cramp in his head causing his eyes to squeeze shut of their own accords.

"Okay, okay. I get it. No more computer today."

He grabbed his phone before getting up, pleading his eyes to survive one last exposure to the light of a screen. He clicked on your name and quickly typed in, asking you what you wanted to eat for dinner but all signs of fatigue disappeared once he saw your answer. Worry replaced any feelings in his heart, his tired eyes fixed on the device.

What could have happened for you to be so down? He knew you were dealing with a difficult friend lately, but could it have gotten this bad so quickly? He wondered if he should push it, ask you more, but as his eyes started burning again he realized it would probably be of no help and he should wait for you to get home. Chan looked around the apartment, an uneasy feeling in his chest, a restlessness agitating his limbs. You were hurting and he couldn’t stay still, waiting for you to arrive. Then it clicked, he looked at your messages once again, closed the app and started dialing a number he was starting to know very well. As the line rang, a smirk slowly took place on his full lips.

You tiredly entered your apartment, welcomed with a delicious aroma. You kicked your boots off, more than ready to change into comfortable clothes and hug your boyfriend.

Your heart melted at the sight waiting for you in the kitchen. Chan, his sleeve rolled up, showing his strong forearms, was very focused on the pots and pans burbling in front of him. He softly hummed to the soft jazz music playing in the background, completely oblivious to the world around him. You silently walked to him and wrapped your arms around his middle, loving how his strong back felt on your cheek through his clothes.

"Jesus! You scared me," he whined, still, you could hear the smile in his voice as his hands wrapped around yours. "How are you?"

You didn't answer, feeling tears prickling your eyes and that burning sensation in your nose when you knew you were about to cry. You buried your face in his clothes, hoping it would muffle the sound of your sobs.

"Y/n?" he quickly turned around, realizing you were far from okay. "Hey, baby what's going on?"

Violent sobs shook your body as you slid to the floor engulfed in Chan’s reassuring embrace, allowing you to let it all go. Once you calmed down enough to take a big breath, he asked again. "Baby, what happened?"

Softly, he brushed his fingers through your hair. He was a calm and reassuring presence for you in all the chaos. You knew you could trust him, knew you could tell him anything and he would be there for you.

"You know my ´friend’, our relationship was already rocky, I knew that, but I thought it was getting better. When we studied together the other day, we talked so much, about anything and everything and even personal stuff. I thought we were getting over that petty argument, but today I heard them tell other people from my classes how I was faking my anxiety disorder and depression symptoms. They said I only did it to get attention and that I- I was an addict." Your voice broke on the last word, horrified that such words could have come out of their mouth.

Chan had to fight everything in him not to go after them right now. If there was one thing he despised it was when the ones he loved were hurt. He couldn't bear it. He knew how hard it had been for you to get a diagnosis and start taking medication. How could someone be heartless enough to make such comments?

"I heard some of the people in the group defend me, but still... I can't believe it. I'm so stupid, I never should have told them about it."

"Y/n. You are not stupid. They are the assholes. You are not stupid for trusting someone you thought was a friend okay? I don't ever want you to think you are stupid for that."

You looked at him with teary eyes. He felt himself melt and soften, all anger disappearing when he realized how badly you needed him. "You are not stupid. You are not faking anything." he softly stroked your cheeks, wiping away the tears as he did. "I'm so proud of you for reaching out for help. I'm proud of you every damn day, and you know the people who really love you do too." You closed your eyes, relishing in his warm touch, allowing his soft voice to erase every doubt and fear. He softly kissed your forehead, "Okay?"

"Okay," you whispered. "Thank you I don't know what I would do without you."

"You would still do amazing because you are one of the strongest person I've ever met."

You chuckled at his comment. "You're so cheesy. Still, I'm pretty happy to have you." You lifted your head towards the stove. "Especially if you tell me you've been cooking for me." You took a deep breath in, finally registering what it was you were smelling. You looked back at him, already smiling, a look of surprise on your face. "Is- is that my mom’s… How, how did you do it?"

A proud and satisfied expression was printed on his features. "You wanted your mom’s spaghetti so I called and asked her to help me make it. Turns out the recipe isn’t that hard." He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear while you stared at him like he was the most magnificent thing you had ever seen, which he was.

"I can’t believe you did that. My mother has never told anyone her recipe!"

"Yeah, about that. I might have had to make a deal with her to get it…" You rolled your eyes, ready to hear some embarrassing stunt your mother pulled on your boyfriend. "I had to explain why I wanted the recipe, and she might have made me promise we’d go visit your family in two weeks while you’re on spring break."

You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck, asking him a thousand time if he was kidding, if this was really happening, while he promised over and over again it was. You pulled back to look at the satisfied smile growing on his lips. Chan was a sure value in your life, maybe the only true one, and as you looked at him, his dimpled smile and the satisfaction he had in preparing all this for you, you knew this was it. He was everything you would ever need.

#ilya texts fics #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #stray kids texts #stray kids #stray kids fic #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han skz #felix skz #seungmin #i.n skz

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valkyrieeeee · 2 days

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You have surgery | Han Jisung

ᑉ³pairing; Boyfriend! Han Jisung x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Sickfic, Comfort, Fluff,

ᑉ³warnings; Wisdom tooth removal, dentist, Anesthesia, amnesia

ᑉ³Authors Note; Other members coming soon! Based on a true story (me!) Edited!

As the nurse administers the anesthesia, you squeeze the hand you're holding tightly, drawing strength from their steady grip. You feel a cool sensation spreading through your veins as the anesthesia takes effect, gradually enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and tranquility.

A wave of anxiety washes over you, but it feels distant, muffled by the encroaching haze of unconsciousness. Your palms grow clammy, and your breath comes in short, shallow gasps. He reaches out, His touch is barely perceptible, a faint brush against your cheek. His whispered words of encouragement are like echoes from a far-off place, reaching you through layers of fog.

"Hey, you've got this," he murmurs softly, his voice fading into the recesses of your mind. "I know you're scared, but you're the bravest person I know. I'll be right here when you wake up, holding your hand okay?" His words cling to your consciousness like a passing dream.

With one final breath, you faintly hear the words "I love you" as you close your eyes, letting go of your fears and surrendering to the gentle embrace of unconsciousness.

As consciousness slowly returns, you find yourself floating in a hazy fog, your senses dulled by the lingering effects of anesthesia. Your eyelids flutter open, revealing a dimly lit room swirling with shadows and blurred shapes.

Confusion washes over you as you struggle to make sense of your surroundings. The faces that hover at the edge of your vision are unfamiliar, their features distorted and indistinct.

Panic begins to rise within you, a knot of fear tightening in your chest as you search desperately for something familiar. Your heart races in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears as panic tightens its grip around your throat.

You try to push through the fog, to grasp onto fleeting fragments of memory that slip through your fingers like grains of sand. But the harder you try, the more elusive they become, slipping further and further beyond your reach.

Desperation claws at the edges of your consciousness, urging you to flee, to escape this nightmare world of shadows and uncertainty. But where can you run when you don't even know where you are?

And then, amidst the chaos of your mind, a voice breaks through the fog, a soft whisper that cuts through the darkness like a beacon of light.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," his voice trembles slightly, gentle yet filled with love. "It's me, Jisung. How are you feeling" he asks softly, his tone laced with a mixture of hope and fear.

"Who are you?" you manage to croak, your voice trembling with confusion and fear. The name 'Jisung' means nothing to you in this moment of disorientation.

A flicker of sadness passes through his eyes, but he quickly masks it with a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Jisung," he repeats gently, his voice tender yet tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Your boyfriend. Do you remember? We've been together for a few years now."

You blink, trying to process his words, but the fog in your mind refuses to dissipate. "I'm sorry," you whisper, your heart heavy with guilt. "I don't remember."

Jisung's expression softens, sadness passing through his eyes once again , but he remains silent, his concern evident in the gentle squeeze of your hand. As you slowly regain awareness, you find yourself in a dimly lit room, the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air.

Your gaze sweeps the unfamiliar surroundings, confusion clouding your thoughts. "Where am I?" you murmur, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

"In the hospital," Jisung replies, his tone gentle yet urgent, his words a beacon of reassurance amidst the fog of confusion. "You had your wisdom teeth removed, but you're all done now. Everything's going to be okay," he adds, his voice laced with a desperate plea for recognition, his eyes searching yours for any sign of comprehension.

"Maybe going for a walk might jog your memory," the nurse suggests as she walks into the room, her voice a gentle interruption in the stillness.

You try to sit up, only to realize you're cocooned in warmth, covered in two blankets and a coat. "What's all this?" you say, puzzled by the unexpected comfort.

"You got cold, and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't see you tremble, so I tried to cover you as much as possible," Jisung explains, a slight tremor in his voice betraying his concern as he gestures to his coat draped over you.

With the help of Jisung and the nurse, you slowly stand and begin to shuffle around the hospital corridors, the steady rhythm of your footsteps echoing in the quiet hallway. As you move, the motion seems to stir something within you, coaxing snippets of memories to resurface from the depths of your mind. With each step, the fog of confusion begins to lift, replaced by a growing sense of clarity.

And then, like a dam breaking, the first clear memory floods back, washing over you in a rush of recognition.

You pause mid-step, a look of realization dawning on your face.

"BBama," you murmur, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I remember BBama."

Jisung's expression changes, a mix of surprise and mild disappointment crossing his features before he quickly masks it with a forced smile. "Yeah, BBama," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "He's a good boy."

You sense a shift in his demeanor, a subtle tension in the way he grips your hand a little tighter. Guilt washes over you as you realize the impact of your words, the inadvertent reminder of your forgotten memories hitting Jisung harder than you expected.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, reaching out to touch his arm in a silent gesture of apology. "I didn't mean to—"

But before you can finish, Jisung shakes his head, his forced smile softening into a genuine one. "It's okay," he reassures, his voice gentle yet tinged with a hint of sadness. "It's just... funny how memories work sometimes."

As you walk, Jisung's disappointment hangs heavy in the air, his silence speaking volumes as you navigate the hospital corridors together. You can feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts, a palpable tension in the way he holds himself.

Guilt gnaws at your insides as you realize the depth of his disappointment, the fear that perhaps you'll never fully remember the moments you've shared together. You want to reach out, to erase the hurt etched into the lines of his face, but words fail you in the face of such uncertainty.

Lost in thought, you suddenly remember a fleeting moment, a snapshot of a memory that cuts through the fog.

"The ferris wheel," you say, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recount the memory that has surfaced in your mind. "It was a sunny afternoon, and we went to the carnival. We got on rides, and we laughed and talked for hours."

Jisung's eyes light up with recognition, a spark of joy dancing in their depths as the memory comes flooding back to him. "I remember that day," he says softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "It was one of the best days of my life."

"You were afraid of heights and got scared at the top of the wheel. I kissed you to calm your nerves," you recall, a blush tinting your cheeks as you relive the tender moment. "And in that moment, everything felt... perfect," you add, your heart fluttering at the memory of Jisung's comforting embrace.

His gaze softens, his eyes shining with love and longing as he reaches out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "It was perfect," he agrees, his voice barely above a whisper, his thumb brushing gently against your skin.

After spending some time reminiscing in the hospital corridors, Jisung helps you gather your belongings and leads you out of the hospital. He takes your hand gently, guiding you with careful steps as you navigate through the corridors and out into the crisp evening air.

As you step outside, you're greeted by the cool breeze, a welcome relief after the sterile confines of the hospital. Jisung flags down a taxi and helps you into the backseat, ensuring you're comfortable before climbing in beside you.

During the ride home, you lean against Jisung's shoulder, the events of the day catching up with you as exhaustion washes over you. Jisung wraps his arm around you protectively, offering silent comfort as the taxi makes its way through the city streets.

When you arrive home, Jisung helps you out of the taxi and supports you as you make your way inside. Once indoors, he settles you onto the couch, fluffing up pillows to make you comfortable.

"Minho hyung dropped off some soup for us. Let me serve you some," he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before disappearing into the kitchen.

As you sink into the cushions, the sharp ache in your jaw intensifies, signaling to your senses that the anesthesia is wearing off. Every movement sends a jolt of agony through your body, and you clench your teeth to stifle a cry of pain.

Your eyes brim with tears. Talking feels like shards of glass scraping against your raw gums, and even breathing seems to exacerbate the throbbing ache in your jaw.

With Jisung in the kitchen, you try to compose yourself, not wanting to alarm him. You take slow, shallow breaths, trying to find a way to cope with the overwhelming pain that courses through your body.

But despite your best efforts, silent tears slip down your cheeks, betraying the torment you're enduring. You press a hand to your mouth, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape, not wanting to disturb Jisung as he prepares soup to ease your discomfort.

Minutes feel like hours as you wait for Jisung to return, each second punctuated by sharp pangs of agony that seem to intensify with every passing moment.

Finally, you hear the soft shuffle of footsteps as Jisung reenters the living room, a tray of steaming soup in his hands. He pauses as he sees you, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern as he rushes to your side, setting the tray down on the coffee table before gathering you into his arms.

You cling to him desperately, unable to hold back the flood of tears any longer. "It hurts," you manage to choke out between sobs, the words barely audible as you bury your face against his chest.

Jisung holds you close, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. "I'll make it better, I promise."

You cling to him desperately, your tears soaking into his shirt as you surrender to the overwhelming tide of agony. Each sob racks your body, a symphony of suffering that echoes through the silent night.

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. "I wish I could take away your pain."

As Jisung holds you, he whispers soft words of comfort, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of your suffering. You feel a flicker of relief in his arms, a fleeting respite from the relentless ache that grips your body.

Eventually, Jisung guides you to sit up, his hands gentle as he helps you into a more comfortable position on the couch. He retrieves the tray of soup he prepared earlier and sits beside you, offering you the spoon with a tender smile.

You try to eat, but the pain makes even the simplest of tasks feel like an immense effort. Each attempt to swallow is met with searing agony, and you can't help but feel a sense of incompetence wash over you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to eat. "I can't do this."

Jisung's heart breaks at the sight of your distress, but he remains steadfast in his support. "It's okay, love," he murmurs softly, his voice a soothing balm as he takes the spoon from your hand and gently feeds you, " Let me help you."

With each spoonful of soup, Jisung's movements are deliberate and gentle, his fingers cradling the spoon as if it were the most precious thing in the world. He watches you intently, his gaze soft and reassuring as he anticipates your needs.

As the warm broth passes your lips, you can feel the tenderness of his touch, his fingers brushing against your skin with a feather-light caress. It's as if he's not just feeding you soup, but pouring his love and care into every bite.

Despite the pain that still lingers in the corners of your mind, you find solace in the simple act of being cared for.

As he continues to feed you spoonful's of soup, he notices the heaviness in your expression. With a playful glint in his eyes, he brings the spoon closer to your mouth but then pulls it away with a mischievous smile.

"Here comes the plane!" he says, his voice filled with playful enthusiasm as he mimics the sound of an airplane soaring through the air. He moves the spoon in a swooping motion, as if it's about to land in your mouth, his expression hopeful for a glimpse of your smile.

Despite the pain and discomfort, you can't help but chuckle at his antics. His determination to bring a smile to your face melts away some of the tension, and you find yourself playing along, opening your mouth wide as if ready to accept the imaginary "airplane" spoon.

Once you've finished eating, Jisung takes care of everything, cleaning up the kitchen and washing the dishes with meticulous attention to detail. He returns to you, draping a soft blanket over your shoulders and ensuring you're comfortable on the couch.

Then, he gathers you into his arms, holding you close as you cling to him. He wipes away your remaining tears, whispering words of love and comfort until your sobs subside.

"Shh, it's okay, my love," Jisung murmurs softly, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "You're safe. Just breathe," he whispers, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. "Let me kiss the pain away," he murmurs, pressing another tender kiss against your temple.

As your tears gradually subside, Jisung holds you close, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He brushes away your tears with his thumb, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I hate seeing you in pain," he admits softly, his voice tinged with regret. "I wish I could take it all away."

You nestle closer to him, finding solace in his embrace. "It's not your fault," you reassure him, your voice muffled against his chest. "I know you'd do anything to make me feel better."

Jisung's arms tighten around you, his love evident in every gesture.

"I was so scared," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "When you didn't remember my name or my face," he begins, his words carrying the weight of vulnerability, "it felt like my world was falling apart. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of having you look at me as if I were a stranger."

Your heart aches at his confession, realizing the depth of his fears. "I could never forget you, Jisung," you assure him, lifting your head to meet his gaze. "You mean everything to me."

A soft smile tugs at Jisung's lips, his eyes reflecting the love and adoration he holds for you. "Knowing that means more to me than you'll ever know," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "I love you more than words can express." he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. "I'm sorry you're in pain. I'd rather it be me than you."

You lean into his touch. "You're my everything, Jisung," you whisper, your face close to his. "And I wouldn't want to go through this with anyone else by my side."

As you lean into his embrace, you feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest. And as he lulls you to sleep with soft murmurs and gentle caresses, you drift off into dreams, knowing that no matter what, you'll always have Jisung there to hold you and kiss the pain away.

*·˚ᑉ³ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like. © Valkyrieeeee 2024

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haniiyo · 2 days

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— random texts pt.1 | bf.hyung line x f.reader

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: cw. nsfw (18+ mdni), crack, suggestive language, kys / kms jokes, cheating / breakup jokes, love in the form of insults, jokes about taking drugs (?), large misunderstandings about ringworm and aderall lmao, established relationships, all of it is jokes pls take none of it seriously

𝜗𝜚 ݁ ˖┊: maknae line | m.list

🖇️ ‧ ₊ ˚ — chan

🖇️ ‧ ₊ ˚ — minho

🖇️ ‧ ₊ ˚ — changbin

🖇️ ‧ ₊ ˚ — hyunjin

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mphountitled · 3 days

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Oh my!! I just read your lee know req and god please spare me my knees are weak. Can i request a lee know dilf? I’m sure its perfect!! 💗 btw i love you take lots of rest! Mwah!

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐞

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dating a single dad who coincidentally happens to be your next-door neighbor does not come without its fair share of hardships (and fun)

Warnings: Language, Humor, Domestic Fluff, Single Dad AU, Secret Relationship, Smut +18 (Minors DNI), implied age gap, Brat!TamerMinho, Bratty!Reader, Oral, Dacryphilia, Needy!Minho, Slight DDLG, Dom/Sub undertones

Seriously so domestic, you have been warned <3

Dating had always been difficult, and up until very recently, you had been perfectly content as an unwilling participant of crush culture. Seldom men have grappled your attention, and the ones that do are often doomed to give you the ick. Every man was either too loud and obnoxious or too nonchalant and non-empathetic. You had given up on dating altogether until fate sunk its talons into your love life.

What're you wearing?

The message came at the dead of night while you lay supine on your couch. Minho rarely sent text messages, preferring to call or email like the archaic man he was. It sent you crazy with admiration.

Wouldn't you like to know?

You grinned as you sent the message back, chewing anxiously at the ends of your sleeves like you were a child awaiting their scolding.

Yes I would. That's why I asked.

Almost immediately, you could tell Minho was needy. He was naturally very blatant and authoritarian, but he became even more so when he found himself slipping into arousal. You could picture him through the screen, and the mental image had your stomach warming with delight: his hair shaggy from his hands running through it all day. His dress shirt, unbuttoned. And perhaps maybe he was reclined backwards on his big leather couch. Nursing is phone in one hand a whiskey tumbler in the other.

What are you wearing.

Comes Minho's message a second time. This time, the tone felt far more demanding despite being the exact same words. You immediately knew that if you would not comply quickly, you might be in for a punishment. Oh how you adored punishments.

Wrong punctuation. It's 'what are you wearing?' No full stop. And you have an adult job? Smh...

You're so undeniably tense that you fear your jaw might crack from the pressure that it's clenched and you hold your phone close to your screen. For 60 agonizing seconds there is not response and you can definitely picture the look on Minho's face with his tongue poking tje inside of his cheek while he shook his head and murmered a quiet and appalled "진싸" to himself.

Come over. His next text reads. The kid's asleep. Come over.

You dreaded taking the very short walk to your next door neighbor and boyfriend's apartment and yet, the opportunity to piss Minho off even more is just too difficult to pass up. A slow smile grace's over your face as you send back an 'aye aye captain' before slipping on your slippers to make the short journey to his apartment.

Before your fist even hits the surface of the wood, the front door is ripped open and Minho's pulling you inside. "You've been holding out on me?" He grumbles, before forcing kisses down the side of your neck. "Why?"

In a flurry of trying to kick your shoes off at the front door as Minho leads you both to the couch. You try to control Minho's frantic groping at your sides and try to ignore his bulge pressing against your thigh. When pulling you onto his lap, you're not quite sure what to make of your thoughts and emotions.

All you feel is a sharp pinch on the skin underneath your woolen sweater and you yelp, "What the hell-"

"Answer me?" He says, glaring at up you with an aura of seriousness. Your legs ached as you straddled Minho's lap, and conversation seems impossible. "I wanna know why you suddenly think it's okay to start being a fucking bra-

"You brought it!? I can't believe you actually brought it-"

A small, excited gasp cuts through what was to be the most embarrassing scolding of your life.

Like the breaking of an ancient spell; you and Minho push back from each other on the couch, you detangle your limbs and you keep a distance. You're almost grateful for the little boy padding into the living room, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

Minho watches his son run towards you on the couch with furrowed eyebrows. Nothing but confusion swims across his darkened irises, and you shrug slightly before uncovering the thing that has apparently been in your hands this whole time. Minho had been so clouded by his own lust that he barely saw the children's book you had clasped in your hands. He watches how you and his son exchange pleasantries like long-lost friends. The both of you practically beaming.

He is only able to intervene on your very important conversation when he notices you handing his son the book.

"Woah- hey, what's going on?" Minho's hand instinctively goes to the back of his son's head as he looks down at you curiously, "What's this?" Minho asks.

"The reason I'm here," you make awkward little jazz hands which Minho's son finds very amusing before you clear your throat. You give Minho an inconspicuous wink.

"Your son... he-"

"I just can't stand how you read bedtime stories to me, Dad."

Minho swings his head downards, his eyes wide.

"You said you liked how I read-"

"No, Dad," theres a roll of his 4 year old eyes and you smile, "You like how you read. Its not very fun for me-"

And that's how you spent a majority of the evening reading a bedtime story for a sleepy little boy until he finally slipped away. You didn't mind it. The story was buying you some time from what you knew was a very aggravated Minho, and all you could do was chuckle to yourself as you read.

This was all so incredibly short-lived because the kid eventually did fall asleep, and you could feel your insides twist as you closed his bedroom door, making your way back to the living room. Every step you took felt like you were skinking deeper and deeper into the earth, and you swallowed very thickly when you rounded the corner to find Minho staring idly at the wall. He was slouched slightly on the couch with his shirt unbuttoned even further.

As you rounded the couch, you spied an empty whiskey tumbler on the coffee table. You shiver.

"Had fun, then?" Minhos hisses almost petulantly.

You roll your eyes as you lower yourself onto the couch beside him.

"If only you weren't such an incompetent bedtime reader then I wouldn't-"

But his hand was already squeezing at the base if yojr throat and you gasp, raising and lowering your body as your lips parted in what was very clearly excitement.

"You and this fucking mouth-"

"A-Are you going to punish me?" Minho regards you for a split second underneath the shadow of his lashes before he breaks out into a chuckle. You tilt your head in confusion, which is only tripled when his hand goes from your throat to the top of your head. "Good girls aren't supposed to like their punishments, are they?"

He knew what diction to use to have you slipping into subspace, and all you're able to do is nod as you shift closer to him. You lick your lips, so completely rattled with tension of all the endless possibilities. Would he spank you? No, perhaps that would cause far too much noise... would he edge you-

"Only slutsnlook forward to their punishments, you know that?" Your nipples tighten against the fabric of your sweater and you nearly moan again. Minho's hand on your head is so heavy, so unmistakably manly it has you spiraling.

"And punishments are no fun if you enjoy them." The hand on your head gets heavier and heavier.

"Minho-"

"Knees." It's all he says before you're toppling to the ground at his feet. Your heart is pounding out of the confines of your very chest, and you lick your lips suddenly feeling so incredibly dehydrated as Minho drags you to his knees. He sits back, letting his head rest on the back of the couch as he says, "You know what to do, don't you?"

The weight of your punishment suddenly hits you tenfold as you bring your shaky hands to undo Minho's belt. It wasn't a 'punishment' at all. Not in the way you wanted.

Instead, Minho was quite content letting you pull out his cock and service him. Making you wait as long as he was forced to.

Minho's jaw clenches when you pull his cock out of his briefs and the sound has your bottom lip trembling.

"P-Please, Minho,"

"Shut up," he mumbles into the air with his head still thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut.

Consequently, you nod into the open air as you spit into your hand and begin to pump his hard length with every bit of precision. You can feel your clit beg for some kind of friction to the point that your need becomes painful.

"You're too slow," he whispers, clenching his eyes shut in frustration, "Too fucking slow." You speed up the pace, watching his lips fall open and feeling utterly intoxicated by all the pretty sounds Minho makes for him all from the both of your hands wrapped around his cock.

"F-Fuck-" You twist your wrist, suddenly spurred on by his reaction.

"I don’t want your hands," Minho huffs, "I want your mouth" and you bend your head dutifully before closing your warm mouth around the head of his cock. Minho's head immediately snaps up from the couch, and he is completely and utterly wrecked. He digs his fingers into your hair, forcing you down onto his cock, "Make a mess. You know I like it when you make a mess, Dove," You're practically whining around his cock and he hisses.

Trails of spit and precum drip out of your mouth along with nasty tears that run down your face, reddening your eyes. Minho's cock twitches in your mouth at the very sight of you. "Look at you," he whispers, "Fucking look at what a mess you are for me," You're nodding frantically, his large cock hitting the back of your throat now-

"I'm gonna fucking cum in that pretty mouth of yours and yojre gonna take it, aren't you, baby?" He frantically moves your braids out of face, all the more the see your completely fucked out expression despite not even receiving any stimulation. It has him lifting his hips to rut into your mouth and just as you choke, Minho's voice cracks, "Shut a good girl," he praises as he looses control, "Shut as good fucking- FUCK-" His cum fills the back of your throat at an alarming rage and yourenforced to clench your toes and swallow, there was no other option. He pats down your head lovingly as his hips snap up against you and you whimperbsnd moan around his cock, only prolonging his orgasm

"God, you're so good to me, baby," he whispers, coming down from his high but not without any aftershocks, "You're so fucking good to me,"

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