#this started as a Chan fic tbh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shuaflix · 2 years

Text

roommates with benefits

❝ y/n, you can’t keep staying here. you’ve been living in my room for like, two weeks now. you don’t even pay rent. ❞

PAIRING ▸ jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, roommate au, frat au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, shy!wonwoo, he’s a bit of an overthinker too, classic “share a bed” trope, sort of friends with benefits, unprotected sex, fingering, praise

SUMMARY ▸ initially, wonwoo doesn’t think much about your incessant requests to play on his xbox. however, when what was supposed to be a two-hour visit to his place stretches out for two weeks, he starts to think you’re overstaying your welcome.

PLAYLIST ▸ seventeen by girls generation • in my dreams by red velvet

WORD COUNT ▸ 6,467 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ here’s me impulsively writing another short lil fic in 1-2 days because the wonwoo brainrot’s been hitting me :’) tbh just wrote this bc i’ve been obsessed with omori LOL but hope u guys enjoy !! ♡

ON A FRIDAY AFTERNOON, JEON WONWOO FOUND HIMSELF BEING INTERROGATED BY YOU.

“Wonwoo! You have the Xbox Game Pass?”

He was taken aback by your question. Minutes ago, he was diligently studying in the library with Kwon Soonyoung when you approached him. Lee Chan was following after you with an exasperated look on his face, sending Wonwoo silent, apologetic looks. Your face, on the other hand, looked like a collision of supernovas with the intensity of the sparkle in your eyes.

For a moment, Wonwoo wondered if you had picked up some new interest in broadcasting. There had to be a mic clipped to your shirt. If his vision wasn’t so shitty, maybe he could spot the hidden camera focusing on him.

“Uh…” He sat up straighter and nodded. (He was camera-shy—and people-shy, but that was beside the point.) “Yeah, I do. Why?”

You beamed. “Can I come over and play on your Xbox?”

Wonwoo frowned, his nose scrunching up in distaste. He had known you sort of well over the past three years of his college experience, but it was mostly because you were good friends with Chan and Kim Mingyu. He always saw you hanging out with them at the Lambda Tau Upsilon house, usually when they were cleaning up during the mornings after parties. That was the sole basis of his connection with you—small talk here and there at his frat house.

He had no idea why you were taking an interest in him all of a sudden. Well, to be fair, he supposed you were more interested in his Xbox.

Maybe this was some dare that Yoon Jeonghan set you up to. Get close to him, get in his room, and find out how much of a nerd he is. Yeah, that was something Jeonghan was capable of doing. There was a reason why Choi Seungcheol chose Joshua Hong to be his Vice President of Internal Affairs instead of Jeonghan.

But Wonwoo had three sets of eyes staring him down, so he knew he had to answer you fast.

“Uh, sure?”

“Great! Thank you!” you exclaimed, looking way too excited for Wonwoo to feel at ease. “We have the same o-chem lab, right? If you don’t have any classes after, I’ll just come home with you.”

Before Wonwoo could hesitantly agree, Soonyoung asked, “Why do you want his Xbox, Y/N? You gonna break that too?”

The teasing inflection in his tone reminded Wonwoo of when you were drunk at their house a few weeks ago. Mingyu kept pouring more into your cup until you were falling all over the place. It was only after you fell onto the kitchen table, causing one of the legs to snap off, when Xu Minghao took you upstairs to sober up. (It was just so that he could contain you and keep you from damaging more of their property.)

You looked embarrassed, a hand flying to rub the back of your neck. “You guys won’t let me live that down, huh? I’m not getting wasted like that again, I swear,” you promised. “Anyway, I wanna play Omori, but I don’t wanna buy the game.”

“She’s been talking about it non-stop ever since her favorite YouTuber played it,” Chan grumbled. “I think I know more about that stupid game than I do about fluid mechanics right now.”

Wonwoo raised a brow. “Isn’t your midterm in twenty minutes?”

“Yeah, which is why I want Y/N to hurry up so that I can get some cramming in,” he sneered.

You threw Chan a glance over your shoulder. “Jeez, it’s not my fault you didn’t study earlier.”

“C’mon, Y/N, leave Wonwoo alone and buy the game yourself,” Soonyoung teased. “Support your local game developers or whatever.”

“And I’m sure they would want to support local broke college students,” she replied before pointing at Wonwoo. “After o-chem?”

Wonwoo just nodded in response, leaving you grinning before you walked off with Chan. He shook his head after you dropped the conversation, wondering if that entire encounter was even real. Judging by Soonyoung’s tutting, though, it very much was.

“On the bright side,” his friend started, “we can finally tell the guys you have a real girl over.”

“Shut up, Soonyoung.”

Wonwoo didn’t sit anywhere near you in his organic chemistry class. In fact, he was pretty sure he only noticed you were in the class about a month in.

Today, however, you walked right over and sat at his table. Right next to him. Knees bumping against each other every now and then. Wonwoo wasn’t very good with girls, and he especially didn’t know how to handle the ones as forward as you were. It wasn’t the closeness that freaked him out, but the fact that you were so confident about your every action and word.

“Hey,” he greeted awkwardly. “You usually sit on the other side, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but I’m gracing you with my presence since you’re letting me play on your Xbox,” you replied with a grin. “I still need to figure out a way to pay you back. Want me to get you lunch sometime or something?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” he said. “You don’t have to pay me back or anything. It’s free on my game pass anyway.”

You hummed in agreement, turning away to pay attention to the lecture afterward. Wonwoo did the same, though he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he didn’t answer correctly. It was like he was playing an otome game and choosing all the incorrect options.

After class, he told you he would be back as soon as he returned a textbook to the library. There, he ran into Lee Seokmin, who was practically living out in the study hub because he went inactive in the frat this semester due to poor grades. Wonwoo ended up explaining the situation he was in, from you asking to go over to his place to asking if you could get him lunch to pay him back.

“Isn’t she just hitting on you?” Seokmin asked in that innocent, questioning tone of his.

Jeon Wonwoo realized he was an idiot.

Wonwoo’s room wasn’t incredibly huge or anything, but he had a good amount of space for a bed, a desk, a couch, and his flat-screen TV that one of the alumni fraternity members let him have for free.

So, while he was working on a paper at his desk, he had a clear view of you buzzing with excitement with the Xbox controller in your hand.

“Hey, Woo, wanna watch me play?” you called from the couch.

He stiffened at the nickname. Despite his reaction, a surprisingly pleasant feeling spread across his chest, making him feel all warm and gushy. He normally wasn’t called by a nickname (save for Mingyu’s flirty comments when he was drunk), so he felt a little flustered.

“Uh, I have work to do right now,” he said. “Maybe in an hour or so?”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

Wonwoo wasn’t able to focus, though. Seokmin’s words were getting to his head, making his brain feel all muddled and fuzzy. Were you really trying to hit on him earlier? And was he supposed to take you up on the offer? He actually felt bad for making you “repay” him when he was letting you have access to his free games. That was the whole reason why he turned you down.

And… deep, deep down, he could admit to himself that you were cute. The fact that someone like you (confident, desired, pretty) was flirting with someone like him (shy, awkward, stiff) was rather amazing, really.

Wonwoo tried to tune you out, which was pretty easy to do considering you were a pretty quiet gamer (save for the few giggles here and there). However, he was so immersed in writing his essay that several hours slipped by without him realizing. Before he knew it, it was almost 8 P.M. and you were still in the same position, eyes fixed on the screen.

It was kind of cute how focused you were, so Wonwoo didn’t want to disturb your gaming. However, it was getting late and he didn’t want to be sending you home in the dark.

“Hey, uh… do you need to get home soon?” he asked.

You hardly spared him a glance. “Nah, it’s okay.”

Wonwoo wondered if you knew how to pick up on cues.

“I’m gonna order take-out for dinner,” he said, realizing that he hadn’t eaten and didn’t exactly want to go downstairs and let his frat brothers know that you were in his room. “You want anything?”

At the mention of food, you set the controller down and turned to him, eyes sparkling under the dim light. “What’re you getting?”

“Panda Express,” he answered. “I’m craving orange chicken.”

“Ooh, get me a bowl,” you said. “I’ll Venmo you the money.”

To his surprise, you sent him the money before he was even able to order. Wonwoo recalled late nights when you and Chan were studying at the dining table with Panda Express take-out bags next to your laptops. You must have had your regular order completely memorized.

“Hey, uh,” he started, “it’s getting dark, and I don’t really feel comfortable sending you home alone so… do you want a ride or something?”

The nervous flash across your face almost went by undetected.

Almost.

“That’s okay,” you said. “I can go by myself.”

“You are not going alone,” Wonwoo decided firmly, taking on a more domineering aura from before. He wasn’t one to be forceful, but there was no way he would let you walk alone this late at night, especially in Frat Row. He let out a soft sigh. “If anything, you can crash here for the night, but I’m not letting you go alone unless you get someone to take you.”

He could see you fighting down a giggle, and it made Wonwoo feel even more embarrassed by his words.

“Yes, sir,” you replied sarcastically, enjoying how the tips of Wonwoo’s ears turned red. He half-expected you to call for Mingyu or Chan, but instead you made yourself comfortable where you were seated. “I’ll sleep on the couch, then.”

He paused. “Sure.”

You were sleeping in Wonwoo’s room tonight.

You were sleeping in certified loser Jeon Wonwoo’s room tonight.

He was mentally freaking out.

Was this supposed to be a normal thing? Was he supposed to act cool about this? Wonwoo was clueless on the protocol for these sorts of situations. He barely had girls over in his room let alone had them sleep in them. This didn’t feel reflective of the gentlemanly image he had been upholding for years now.

He could practically hear the teasing he’d get from the other boys if they found out. Jeonghan and Minghao were early birds, so it would be impossible to avoid them in the morning. Minghao would probably let it go eventually, save for a few teases here and there. Jeonghan, on the other hand, would make it everyone’s business.

So, in short, Wonwoo was royally screwed.

The least he could do now was be hospitable, and making you sleep on the couch didn’t seem hospitable at all. His couch wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly made to be slept on. He remembered when Vernon Chwe crashed on his couch after a party one night (Seungkwan and Soonyoung were passed out on his bed), and the poor guy woke up with a neck sprain the next morning.

“Let me take the couch,” Wonwoo offered. “You can sleep on my bed.”

“What?” You frowned. “No, I couldn’t do that. You’re already being so kind by letting me stay.”

“The couch isn’t really that comfy.”

“All the more reason why I should sleep on it, then,” you said with an air of finality. “I’m the one crashing here, so it’s not fair if you take the couch.”

Wonwoo sighed. “Why don’t we both sleep on the bed, then?” he blurted out.

He processed it.

And processed it.

And realized how fucking shameless he sounded.

“Whoa,” he mumbled. “Sorry, you don’t have to—”

“Sure,” you replied, looking down at the controller, fingers fiddling with the left thumbstick. “Only if you’re comfortable with that.”

Wonwoo’s jaw went slack, partly out of surprise and partly because he knew he should have been saying something to diffuse the tension he created. Just as he was about to start rambling, Mingyu’s voice rang from downstairs.

“Wonwoo! Your Panda Express is here!” he yelled. “Bro, why’d you order two bowls?”

“Uh… I’m hungry!” Wonwoo shouted back. He spared you a glance before walking to the door. “I’ll go get our food real quick.”

He retrieved the bag from Mingyu, trying to avoid eye contact because he was sure he would give himself away. None of them had any idea you were still here, probably expecting that you had your fun with his Xbox for a few hours before leaving. Wonwoo considered himself an expert in keeping his face clear of all emotion, but Mingyu always read him like a book. It was honestly scary how perceptive his friend was.

When he returned, you were clearing the coffee table in front of you to lay out the food. Wonwoo set the bag down and let you grab your bowl and utensils. He sat on the floor and opened his own, snickering at the sight of you already digging in before he could even open the lid.

“Did you not have lunch or something?” he asked.

“Nope,” you answered. “Didn’t have time to pick it up from the dining hall.”

“You don’t make breakfast at home?”

“Uh… not really.”

Wonwoo hummed. “You could’ve asked one of us to get you something. You shouldn’t be putting off eating until dinner. Three meals a day is important, you know? Or at least like, two.”

You giggled in response. “I can’t tell if you sound like a dad or a boyfriend right now.”

Wonwoo couldn’t stop the blush that spread across his cheeks at your words.

He couldn’t tell either.

After you both finished dinner, Wonwoo let you borrow a towel and clothes so that you could shower. One of the nice things about his room was that he had an attached bathroom. Before the school year even started, Wonwoo knew that he didn’t want to share a common bathroom with twelve other guys.

What he failed to consider, though, was that you would walk back into his room wearing only his loose shirt that fell past your thighs.

“Your pants didn’t fit,” you explained, holding it out to him.

Wonwoo took it gingerly, clearing his throat so that he could ignore all the impure thoughts circulating through his head. He was supposed to be a gentleman, and thinking about how good your hair smelled was making him feel like scum.

“Are you heading to bed now?” he asked, putting his sweatpants back in his drawer before moving to the far end of his twin XL. (It wasn’t very far.)

“Mm, yeah,” you said, running a hand through your hair before rummaging through your bag. After a moment, you asked, “Do you have any moisturizer?”

“Bathroom. Top shelf.”

“Thanks.”

You came back after a few minutes, and Wonwoo was turned to the wall so that he could offer just a little privacy. The entire situation had his heart thundering in his chest. You slid under the covers, the dip in the mattress making Wonwoo hyper aware of your presence.

There was a difference of five inches between a twin and a twin XL sized bed. That five inches was in length, so it had nothing to do with the distance between you and Wonwoo. It offered no safe distance that kept him from feeling your warmth against his back. The three inches of space between you two was way too small.

“Do you have enough space?” he asked in a low voice.

“Kinda,” you replied, but Wonwoo wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

Kinda from you sounded more like “barely.” You had a tendency to play things down, as Wonwoo noticed.

He sat up to peer at your side of the bed. Just as he thought, one of your legs was hanging off the bed while the rest of your body barely managed to fit.

“Let’s switch,” he insisted, getting up before you could even turn his offer down.

“O-okay.” You scooted to the other end of the bed where the wall kept you from falling off. You turned so that you were facing Wonwoo, and he swallowed hard. “Are you sure? I don’t want you falling off.”

“Then what do you suppose we do?” He chuckled. “It’s fine. It’s one night.”

His breath hitched when you wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him secure. Wonwoo had never intended to get this close to you, and this was defeating the purpose of all the walls he set up around you. It was already impossible to resist you, and this was making it even harder for him.

“Let’s just get closer,” you said softly. “Then you won’t fall off.”

You had a point.

Wonwoo moved closer so that his body was pressed up against you. Seeing your head against his chest was making him go crazy, so he stretched his arm out across the pillow.

“If it’s comfortable,” he began, “you can lay on my arm.”

You took his offer with a pleased smile on your face, cuddling closer to him for warmth. This was definitely not what friends did, was it? Hell, were you two even friends? Wonwoo would have considered you to have been more of an acquaintance with your limited interactions.

He swallowed hard, trying to control his heartbeat because he swore you could hear it. It got even worse when he felt your leg brush against his.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“It’s all good. My bed’s kinda small.”

You shuffled. “Sorry, I’m just—”

“Y/N,” Wonwoo muttered. “Hold still.”

“I’m trying, it’s just—”

“My god,” he whispered, and he couldn’t stop his next words from spilling out. “Was that you?”

“W-what?” you stuttered.

Wonwoo felt it again. Against his leg. He didn’t dare look because he was frozen in place and it was dark, but he swore his leg found its way between yours. Something pulsated against his thigh, and he had a good feeling he knew what it was.

“I was asking if that was—”

Wonwoo cut himself off when he shifted forward a little, rousing a soft, contented sigh from your lips. He froze when he heard the sound of pleasure right against his chest. It was the kind of sound he had never heard from you before—one that he didn’t even know you could make. It was straight out of a wet dream or a fantasy, but Wonwoo was pretty sure you were getting aroused because of him.

He could hear the desperation in your tone when you admitted, “Sorry, yeah, I was getting turned on.”

Something in Wonwoo snapped.

It wasn’t like he never got horny, but he always knew how to reign in his hormones. Maybe it was due to the fact that Wonwoo was a hormonal college student who hadn’t gotten laid in a while, but suddenly he wanted to do nothing but tear your clothes off and show you what he had been suppressing this entire time.

Wonwoo was gentle at first, really. He tilted your chin up so that he could kiss you gently. You reciprocated almost immediately, one hand bunching up the fabric of his shirt as you melted into it. Wonwoo only started to get riled up once he slipped his tongue past your lips, pressing your body flush against his.

He pushed your hips down into the mattress and angled himself over you, rolling his hips into yours at a steady rhythm. Wonwoo grunted at the sounds of your muffled whimpers, and when he came to his senses, he realized it was because he had a hand over your mouth.

“This okay?” he asked. You made a sound of agreement, and Wonwoo chuckled, removing his hand from your mouth.

“F-feels good,” you stuttered out. “More.”

“Don’t be too loud,” he mumbled. “These walls are thin.”

You nodded eagerly, eyes screwed shut as you tried to contain yourself. Wonwoo felt like his head was clouding over, lust overtaking every rational bone in his body. He was tugging down your shorts before he could even process what he was about to do.

Fucking you was something out of a dream. Wonwoo hadn’t thought of it much because you two kept a pretty cordial relationship, but now he wanted to do nothing else but have his way with you.

“Such a tease,” he grumbled. “Wearing my shirt and nothing else.”

“That—that was the plan.”

He prodded at your clothed slit with careful fingers, tutting lightly at how soaked you were. “For me? Already?”

You whined. “Wonwoo, please.”

“Want my fingers or my mouth?” he asked, and when you stilled, looking like you were having a hard time deciding, Wonwoo decided to choose for you. “Fingers it is, doll.”

He moved your underwear aside so that he could rub his fingers against your cunt, groaning at how he could feel you throbbing for him. Once Wonwoo decided you had enough with the teasing, he slid two fingers into you slowly. Your walls instantly clenched around his fingers, but he waited until you had adjusted properly.

“So wet for me,” he growled in your ear.

You didn’t know he could talk this dirty; it was clear by the way you were looking up at him so innocently, like you hadn’t been the one making moves on him all day. Wonwoo didn’t know either, though. You were bringing out a side to him that he never tapped into before.

He fingered you expertly, making sure to scissor his fingers inside you when your tight walls started easing up on him. Wonwoo shuddered at the sounds you were making and stared down at the spot where his fingers disappeared inside you. When he felt your thighs starting to quiver, he sped up his pace. His fingers were moving in and out of you so smoothly that he didn’t stop the rhythm even as you came undone around him.

You slapped a hand over your mouth this time to muffle your cries. Wonwoo was more than pleased with your reaction, helping you ride out your orgasm by rubbing your clit with his thumb.

“Good girl,” he praised. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sat up on his knees, tugging his sweatpants and boxers down. “You ready to go again?”

“Please,” you begged, arching your back so that you could tug down your underwear and kick it off your ankles.

The lights were off, but he could clearly see your body illuminated by the moonlight. Wonwoo pressed kisses from your thighs to your hips, slowly sliding your shirt up as he kissed up your stomach and chest. Then, he helped you get rid of your shirt entirely, groaning at the sight of your body laid bare for him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, lining up his cock at your entrance. “I’ll take it slow.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Mmhm.”

Wonwoo pushed himself inside you carefully, making sure to slow down and wait for you to adjust whenever he saw your face scrunching up. When you whined for him to keep going, he slid into you fully, groaning at the feeling of your walls around his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he growled out. “You feel amazing, Y/N.”

“W-Wonwoo, go,” you moaned.

He gripped your hips and started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace, slowly working his way up until you could take him without any winces or flashes of discomfort. Soon, Wonwoo was pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he pounded into you, listening to your moans and whimpers like it was his favorite song.

You felt so perfect around him, like Wonwoo was meant to bury his cock inside you like this. He held you down and thrusted in you harder, fucking you like a well-oiled machine until you were squirming underneath him.

“I-I’m close,” you whispered.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, nodding before he sped up his pace, making sure to hit that sweet spot right under your cervix. Wonwoo continued fucking you until he had to slap his hand around your mouth to muffle your loud cries. You fell off the edges right before him, and he could feel it in the way you were clenching and unclenching around him.

The intensity of your orgasm drove him to his own high, making him pull out so that he could cum on your stomach. Wonwoo panted heavily, collapsing beside you and turning so that he could work his fingers on your clit until your orgasm subsided. You were a whimpering and writhing mess, but you had never looked so beautiful to him.

“So…” you started, chest heaving as you caught your breath, “that just happened.”

“It did,” he mumbled. “Did you like it?”

Maybe it was that twinge of anxiousness that lingered at the back of Wonwoo’s head. He wasn’t the type to be able to just fuck people and go; there was a sense of closeness he felt after sex, and it was hitting hard right now. He respected your decision, of course, if all you wanted was some dick, but he knew he would be feeling like shit afterward.

To his relief, though, you managed a beaming smile through your labored breaths.

“Yeah,” you whispered, “I liked it a lot.”

It was strange how things seemed to develop between you and Wonwoo so naturally.

One day you two were on a small talk basis, and the next you were practically his roommate. You seemed to be unfazed about everything, but Wonwoo couldn’t help but think about how weird it was that he hadn’t ever seen you go home since the day he fucked you for the first time.

The first time, meaning there were many, many other times. His daily routine consisted of waking up, going to class, coming home to you playing on his Xbox, fucking you, doing some homework, fucking you again, and then going to bed. It was honestly surprising how you never got tired of all the positions you tried out with him.

Earlier in the week, Wonwoo fucked you in his shower so that it would drown out your moans. Unfortunately, he underestimated how slippery shower sex was, and he had to explain the loud crash to everyone living in the frat house because of this.

So, now, everyone found out about your little arrangement. You and Wonwoo weren’t exactly dating, but there was definitely something going on.

It wasn’t just sex, though. If it was just sex, Wonwoo wouldn’t have questioned it, but you two ended up looking more like a couple half the time. Last week, Wonwoo took you to an art museum, and you two spent the entire day holding hands and looking at the art pieces together. He only registered it as a date when he took you to a tofu house afterward and laughed at the sight of you failing to crack open your egg.

Moreover, your pillow talks were getting a little serious. Wonwoo would finish inside you and then proceed to listen to you talk about your day, all the while stroking your hair and rubbing circles on your arm. You two had discourses about philosophy, watched TikToks in bed, and even bought a succulent to raise together. It was definitely well past a normal friends with benefits relationship.

When Wonwoo confided in Soonyoung about his peculiar situationship with you, he came to wonder if he was just being used for his Xbox. That couldn’t possibly be the case, though, because you would’ve left by now.

Omori was a game that took around twenty hours to reach completion. Wonwoo was certain about this; he did his research (aka consulting the Steam community). Statistically speaking, you should have beaten the game by now.

Maybe you just sucked at the game. Some people just didn’t have any gaming sense, as Seungcheol discovered when he played co-op with Chan. Wonwoo didn’t want to accidentally offend you by mentioning that you should have finished the game by now, so he took a less aggressive route.

“How long is this game?” he asked one evening as he sat next to you on the couch.

“Around twenty hours if you play in one go,” you answered, like you were reading off the Steam community discussion page verbatim.

Wonwoo was shocked. If you knew how long the game was, then why hadn’t you given up already? You had definitely been playing for way more than twenty hours. Maybe even twice that amount.

“You’ve practically been living in my house for two weeks now,” he said. “You haven’t hit twenty hours yet?”

“Well, there’s side quests and stuff, you know?” you answered, which was actually a good point. Wonwoo was a sucker for side quests, especially in indie games. “But I finished the game last week. I’m playing another route now.”

Ah, routes.

Routes that made video games worth the money because there were so many different outcomes one could achieve. Routes that made people keep replaying the same game over and over again just to get an alternative ending for a measly achievement or two. Routes that immersed people into different storylines and character developments.

Routes that made you stay over at Jeon Wonwoo’s house for two whole weeks.

You were playing another route. Meaning, it would potentially take the same amount of time or more to replay the game. Meaning, you would be sleeping in Wonwoo’s twin XL for longer. It would be nearing a month at this rate.

“Y/N, you can’t keep staying here,” Wonwoo said. “You’ve been living in my room for like, two weeks now. You don’t even pay rent.”

You frowned. “You pay rent?”

“Of course I pay rent! Everyone pays rent! Now go back to your place.”

“But your Xbox is here.”

He brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear. “You can come back anytime to play it, but I feel guilty making you pay rent for your place when you’re living out in my room, okay? So go home.”

“But…”

Wonwoo sighed. It wasn’t that you were overstaying your welcome. In fact, he liked having you around. It was great that he was allowed to have his own room in a house full of messy frat boys, but it did get lonely sometimes. Your presence was a refreshing change. It was getting hard to ignore the looks he got when he would leave for class in the morning with you following behind him like a duckling, though.

“Y/N, is there something else going on?” Wonwoo asked with a light sigh. He turned his body so that he could look at you properly, watching as you hesitated to set the controller down for a moment. “Are you avoiding going back to your place for any particular reason?”

You let out an awkward laugh, voice trailing off toward the end when you said, “It’s not like there’s exactly a home to go back to…”

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. You never seemed to have an issue with your apartment in the past (at least from what he observed) other than your occasional complaints about your roommate. “Is something going on?”

You finally set the controller down and turned to face him, sighing heavily. Only when your body was turned to him did Wonwoo realize how close you two were on the couch. He felt compelled to place a hand on your shoulder or something—squeeze it, maybe. He wasn’t the best when it came to comforting people, but it looked like you could really use a hug.

“My roommate got us evicted a few weeks ago,” you admitted with a newfound sense of shame that Wonwoo had never seen from you before. “Honestly, it’s partly my fault because I was throwing a few kickbacks in the beginning of the year. Music got a little loud sometimes so we got a few noise complaints. I toned it way down when we got a warning, though, so I told my roommate to be careful, too.” Your eyes got watery as you spoke, and Wonwoo could tell where this was going. “Basically, when I visited home a few weeks ago, I came back to find out that we were getting evicted and my roommate decided to not let me know until I got back.”

“That’s horrible,” Wonwoo mumbled. He decided to go ahead and squeeze your shoulder, ignoring his pre-existing dilemma over whether to do it or not. To his relief, you looked more at ease once he did. “Do you have any back-up place to stay or something?”

“Um…” You sniffled, wiping a stray tear that had been building up at your waterline. “I dunno. I moved some of my stuff in Mina’s garage for now, but I don’t think I can keep it there forever. She doesn’t really have any more space in her house unless I couch surf or something.”

“So that’s why you’ve been crashing here,” Wonwoo concluded, the dots finally connecting in his head.

You looked ashamed but nodded. “I’m sorry.” You pointed to your laptop that was sitting on his nightstand. “I’ve been looking for a place to stay, I swear. It’s just that it’s so hard to find a sub-leaser this late in the school year.”

“No, no, don’t be,” he murmured. “Um… you can stay here until you find a new place, okay? However long it takes.”

You mustered a smile, which made Wonwoo’s heart swell a little. “Thanks, Woo.”

Maybe it was because you were just so vulnerable in front of him or maybe Wonwoo was just thinking about how your smile was the most beautiful thing in the world, but he ended up leaning over and kissing you gently. You froze for a moment before kissing him back, moving your hand so that it was sliding up to the back of his neck. Wonwoo tilted your chin up and rubbed small circles along your jaw with his thumb as his lips moved against yours in perfect synchrony.

When he pulled back, he smiled fondly at how flustered you looked.

He murmured, “Just doing what any decent boyfriend would do.”

You didn’t respond right away.

Wonwoo waited.

Waited.

And he realized.

He just called himself your boyfriend.

The panic came crashing down on him immediately after. Wonwoo’s brain was going haywire over what he had just said, and he had no idea how to recover from it. He should have corrected himself or tried to laugh it off, but that would probably be insensitive.

Did he want to be your boyfriend? Yes, he wanted nothing more than to put a label on what was going on between you two. The confusion was driving him crazy, hence his fuck-up two seconds ago.

Your eyes were wide as discs. “You just…”

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “I… I wasn’t thinking.”

“You just said boyfriend!” you exclaimed. “Which… which would mean I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yes,” Wonwoo replied, wincing at your reiteration. “I’m aware I said that.”

Your voice then dropped about two octaves, and Wonwoo had never seen you so shy. “Wait, so, you don’t wanna be?”

He turned to look at you, eyes widening at your words. Were you implying what he thought you were implying? The way you were nervously picking at your nails could only make him assume you were anticipating more.

He swallowed hard. “You’d be okay with dating me?”

“Okay?” you echoed, scoffing a little. “I thought you were a genius or something, Woo. How could you be so dense? I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out for ages!”

Wonwoo’s mouth went dry. “I… I—yeah, um…” After floundering for words for a solid minute, he composed himself and asked straightforwardly, “I know this is long overdue, but will you officially be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

A pretty smile spread across your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Of course, idiot.”

You kissed him with such affection that Wonwoo didn’t realize he had been craving for a long time, and this, he realized, was bliss.

You never found another place to rent.

That was fine, though, because Wonwoo didn’t mind you staying at his place.

Sure, he had to have a long discussion about it with the rest of his frat, but since you knew all of them, they were thankfully in favor of you staying for the rest of the year. Sure, his bed was still way too small for the two of you, but you both learned to make it work. Plus, Wonwoo was glad he could split rent with someone now.

Wonwoo was honestly anticipating you staying in his room for the rest of the school year. Finding a new place so late was unreasonable, so although he appreciated your efforts, he knew from the beginning that you two would just end up living together.

It was strange to be living with the girl he started dating recently, but he liked being able to wake up to you in the morning. Plus, it wasn’t like he saw you all the time. Whenever he was on campus, he would usually stick with Soonyoung or Mingyu.

“Wonwoo!” You hugged him from behind, nearly startling both him and Soonyoung in the middle of their daily study sessions at the library. “I got you a donut.”

Soonyoung frowned. “Where’s mine?”

“You didn’t ask for one,” you answered with a grin. “Just kidding, I got you one, but Chan ate it while we were walking over.”

“My bad,” Chan apologized with a half-eaten donut in one hand and powdered sugar on his lips.

Wonwoo wasn’t heavy on PDA but smiled when you kissed his cheek, gingerly taking the donut from you. “You can sit at our table, if you want,” he offered.

“That’s okay, I’m gonna be here until like, midnight,” you said with a frown. “Can you pick me up?”

“Yeah, of course.” He squeezed your hand and smiled as he watched you go.

“Dude,” Soonyoung cut in, snapping him out of his dreamy trance. His eyes were locked on the donut. “You’re so lucky.”

Wonwoo wasn’t sure if his best friend was talking about you or the donut, but he agreed wholeheartedly.

“Yeah,” he replied with a wistful sigh, “I really am.”

#svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #svt hard hours #seventeen hard hours #seventeen x reader

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ts19009 · 6 months

Text

Seventeen Fic Rec's

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: December 4th, 2023)

OT13

In Pursuit of Wedded Bliss (Updated Masterlist) (A Seventeen Regency!AU Series) @fantasyescapes17

seventeen fic recommendations

Kim Mingyu

In Soft Hands | Part 2 (Mingyu) @beahae (SingleDad!Mingyu x DaycareTeacher!Reader(f))

what’s your number?; kmg @nevernonline (synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen. paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.)

again and again ⟢(exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut) @lovelyhan

creep (Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…) @smileysuh

Aphrodite (smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning) @highvern

Covert Desires (spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing) @etherealyoungk

Slowly; All At Once (fluff, best friends to lovers with Mingyu, boyfriend material!Mingyu, slight angst.) @gyuwoncheol

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1) (brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut) @gyuswhore

His Smile(smut, fluff, slowburn, fake dating!au) @angelwonie

Parties, Yachts and Wishful Thinking (enemies to lovers, reader and Mingyu are rich, Mingyu is kind of an asshole but so is reader, parties, mentions of reader crushing on Wonwoo, drinking, cursing, tennis, yachts and pure filth) @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Other Mingyu recs @novalpha

we don’t usually hold hands (m) || kmg & reader (angst, fluff, smut, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, sort-of-mean!oc, nice guy!mingyu, emotionally constipated!oc honestly) @gyukult

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity (smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au) @shuaflix

the very first night. (exes to lovers, roommates!au | romance, angst, smut) Link works on pc and through my reblog i think

OVER MY HEAD (brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.) @hannieehaee

it’s all fun and games (mingyu x female reader ) @dontflailmenow

Hong Joshua (Jisoo)

Loverboy (regency era romance, historical, drama, slow burn, angst.) @starlightxsvt

cranberry concoctions (bartender!joshua x f!reader) @onlyhuis

Mr (not) so perfectly fine (Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst) @hwanghyunjinenthusiast

the devil wears baby blue (mut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol) @onlyseokmins

Virgin Killer (cheerleader!reader, nerd!shua, virgin!shua, he’s kinda cold in this but is lowkey still a soft boi, drinking, teasing, jealousy, reader has a little bit of a corruption kink, loss of virginity, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation) @wonusite

isohel (all time joshua fav) (slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff) @toruro

mr. nice guy (, neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as alway) @toruro

eyes meeting, hearts apart ⟢ (; bartender!reader, requited unrequited love, immense pining, angst, flowers, slow burn, smut (MINORS DNI)) @lovelyhan

Jeon Wonwoo

Jeon’s Anatomy - Cast (surgeon au) @hansols-yoda-boxers

Blown up love (gaming is all fun and... well, games, until you start crushing on the only person that takes pity on you and saves you from mobs.) @starsstuddedsky

I found love in your smile (doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc) @wonlouvre

wonwoo reading list / fic recs part 3 ! @jeonride

meet cute of the century (meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut) @lovelyhan

Licentious (babysitter au, cheating au, smut) @wonusite

to build a home (idol!husband! jeon wonwoo x actress!afab!reader) @tomodachiii

X + Y = YOU AND I ||( jeon wonwoo academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader) @angelwonie

yoon jeonghan

just one day (fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.) @wonwoonlightligh

to live again (ime travel!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, slow burn, angst, some fluff, some humor) @viastro I WAS CRYING PLS READ

Pathetic Series @leejihoonownsmyhearthoonownsmyheart

Jeonghan’s Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling in Love) (fluff, angst, non-idol au, elementary school teacher!jeonghan, f2L, fake relationship) @starsstuddedsky

xu minghao

✧ the letter (slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l) @toruro

✧ flight of the stars (mut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff) @toruro

✧ oh my! @toruro

fixer upper (s2f2l. “beg” minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate),) @seungkwansphd

Glacial Pace (fake dating au, friends to lovers, fluff, smut) @wonusite

To Keep You Warm @idyllic-ghost

Kwon Soon-young

My Best Friend's Mother (is the One For Me) — ksy (milf chaser!soonyoung, milf!reader) @rubyreduji

driving lessons for dummies (fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au) @shuaflix FAV ATM XD

be sweet (prince!hoshi x princess!reader) @heartkyeom

charity f*ck (virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex) @ncteez

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hee0soo · 1 year

Text

Backstage Scare

Summary:You visit your boyfriend while he´s touring with the boys but not everyone knows who you are to them!

Request: by @andjeoidjavo

Soo, I thought about a SKZ scene, where the reader is the gf, but gets in a situation where she needs to be kinda saved? Like someone was getting to close to her and wouldn’t leave her alone; being a bit more touchy and aggressive/disrespectful? And another member was there to protect her? Like, it got sooo bad that the member had to physically intervene?

Idc who the bf is tbh, but I think I kinda want to see the interation between the member and the gf, like she is a part of the family and they all love her and respect her☺️

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

You and your boyfriend hadn´t seen each other in a while now. Him being on the second World Tour with the members and you staying at home because of your work!

But now you had a few days off and were determined to join them at least for 1 or 2 tour stops! The members all knew about your arrival and were very excited to see you again after not having seen you in a while.

Of course you had kept in contact with them through texts but nothing could beat the joy you felt when you were hanging out with them.

Chan had been the most excited to see you, having insisted that he would pick you up from the airport with the manager! He wanted to be the first one to hold you before his members could whisk you away from him again.

The manager had made him wait in the car as to no cause a scandal, which he petulantly accepted. He could have been told to wait at the hotel or venue after all! That was not something he wanted to risk even in the slightest…

Now that he was sitting in the car, waiting for you to walk through the door of Terminal, he couldn´t sit still anymore. The poor boy did his best not to rip the car door open and run to you when he finally managed to see your figure!

Patience is a virtue is what the manager told him when he had gotten out!

He couldn´t care less about it at the moment but also had the group to keep in mind. To the fans, you were just a member of the staff and you both wanted to keep it that way. At least for now!

After your luggage was finally stowed into the trunk, you finally opened the door and climbed onto the back seat. The door had barely closed when you got pulled into the strong embrace of your boyfriend.

“I missed you too Channie!” you laughed as he hid his face in your hair. Your arms engulfing his torso while doing so.

The manager only shook his head fondly as he watched the reunion through the rear mirror!

“Oh you have no idea how much I’ve missed you! How was I ever able to handle the members without you by my side!”

His face came into few when he pulled back to look you in the eyes.

Not having the power to resist his brown chocolate orbs anymore you put your hands on his cheeks and kissed him softly. Chan could almost taste the longing in your lips and he was sure you could too!

You were going straight to the venue as the other members were already waiting for their leader to go over the sound check together and the drive took about an hour until the car arrived at its destination. Giving to you more than enough time to catch up on what was going on in your lives without anyone interrupting.

Well besides the boys, who had started spamming the groups chat like crazy halfway through the drive!

Getting greeted by the members could be compared to getting swarmed by a bunch of over excited puppies nipping at your ankles for attention and you were happy to give them said attention any time!

Soon after, sound check started and you made yourself comfortable on a couch next to one of the managers.

You could feel several security guards eyeing you carefully as you talked to the him but ultimately left you alone.

It only became a problem when you had to search for the rest room to freshen up for a moment. The manager had pointed you to where you had to go and you quickly went there.

Sound check was almost over at that point so you guessed that the boys were already going to be back stage by the time you came back.

You did your business, washed your hands and left again, wandering the hallway to find your way back to where you were going to wait for Chan.

It took you a while to find your sense of orientation again, walking into the wrong direction 2 times before you found the right way.

Apparently one of the security guards who hadn´t seen you yet found the way you were wandering a bit to suspicions for his liking!

“Who are you and what are you doing here?”

His stance was defensive and you took a step back as he got in your way.

“I´m a- friend of the boys. The manager knows who I am. You can verify my identity with him if you´d like.” You answered politely befor attempting to push past him.

The man didn´t budge.

“Did you think I’d believe that little story of yours?” he asked gruffly and took another step towards you.

“It´s not a story! The manager can verify that, so can we please go talk to him?”

The guard shook his head in disbelief.

“This is a restricted area and I don´t see a badge anywhere on you so no, you will not get anywhere near the artists or their manager any time soon! And now LEAVE!”

Anger started bubbling inside of you. Not at the guard, he was only doing his job! But at you for not bringing the staff badge you had been given by the manager earlier.

“Sir I understand that you are just doing your job so please could you just get the manager to verify that I DO belong here and that he has the staff badge! It’s with the manager! Who, again, can tell you exactly who I am!”

Without waiting to receive an answer you tried to get past him again but the guard roughly grabbed your arm. It hurt but not too bad that you had to scream. Instead you tried to squirm your way out of his hold to get away from him!

“Let me go!”

“If you won´t leave on your own accord then I will make you leave!”

His hold tightened significantly and pushed you wards the exit while you whimpered at the sudden pressure on your arm.

“She said let go!” came a dangerously calm voice from behind you and the guard.

The man either didn´t hear it or completely ignored it but you recognized your boyfriend in a heartbeat!

“Channie!”

You looked over your shoulder to see him, Changbin and Felix walking over to where you were led away.

Changbin was the first to react. The small rapper skipped over to grab the guards arm that was holding yours tightly!

Surprised by the sudden touch, the man’s head whipped around.

Chan who had walked up to where Changbin was holding the poor man! He let go and you used the chance to slip past him and behind Chan! Felix wrapped his arms around your shaking form, shushing you as silent tears had started to run down your cheeks.

“She belongs to us and if you want to keep your job I’d suggest you scram now!” the leader told the man. You had only ever heard that tone from him when it was about the member’s health, safety or treatment before!

The man took the advice to heart and left quickly to lick his wounds.

Chan turned back to you.

“Can you show me your arm baby?” he asked gently as he looked at your anxious face.

Felix took the arm you were holding and held it so Chan could see well.

The skin was red and it would definitely bruise a bit.

But with the hugs of your friends and kisses of your boyfriend, you were sure that it would heal quickly before you would go home again.

An added plus was that Chan would not let you out of his sight for the remaining time you had together!

788 notes · View notes

chvnnie · 2 years

Text

stray kids as dads

skz ot8 x reader

word count: 13.9k (1k-2k per member)

genre: fluff, some suggestive content, a dash of angst with minho - MINORS DNI

warnings: illness (stomach bug - chan), mentions of birth, jisung gets a lil mopey, mentions of food, almost oral (seungmin, fem receiving), it's just really fluffy tbh. if i missed anything - PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: a day in the life of dad stray kids

a/n: i have baby fever and i'm making it everyone's problem. also sometimes i write fluff - this brought me lots of comfort so i hope it does for you as well.

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents stray kids members as people or the band as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

taglist: @lix-ables, @rachalixie, @agustd-essert, @gibbysupremeacyisreal, @katieraven, @miamormi, @woahfruity, @isilentprincess

Bang Chan

When you’re expecting, everyone tells you to get all the sleep you can, because it’ll be a while before you get a full night’s sleep again. All these things about “sleep when the baby sleeps” or “you won’t ever be able to catch up”. In Chan’s case, he found the lack of sleep the easiest part of parenting. He never slept anyway, what difference did a baby make?

Chan functions best between the hours of midnight and 5 am, which made him the obvious choice to take over night time feedings/diaper changes. You were exhausted, Chan wasn’t, so what was the point in waking you up?

He spent most nights in his home studio after you fell asleep, keeping the baby monitor on full volume so he could run back upstairs when needed. Most nights, when the baby stirred, he would just take them back down to the studio with him, snuggling as he worked until they fell back asleep.

It was a great routine, and Chan was almost sad when all his kids started sleeping through the night. There was no need for a monitor in his studio anymore, nobody waking up for a midnight snack or just some cuddles - he wasn’t really needed at night anymore. Chan went to his home studio less and less at night, trying to adjust to everyone else’s sleep schedule. There were some positives to this; he got to fall asleep with you now instead of after you, he never missed family breakfast anymore, he got to take his kids to school. Following everyone else’s routine was better in the long run.

Even though he missed the one on one time he got with his kids. There was something special about those late night snuggles that he wasn’t able to recreate.

A stomach bug entered the Bang household suddenly and aggressively. It started with the oldest daughter. Chan got a call from her piano teacher to come pick her up from practice, saying that she had been vomiting aggressively for the past ten minutes. He broke many traffic laws racing to his daughter's school, and then just as many to get to the ER, just to be told it’s just a really shitty stomach bug.

The bug then began to bounce around, hitting his youngest daughter next. For two days, Chan ran between the girls’ bedrooms, bringing soup, gatorade, crackers - whatever they needed, he was right there to help him. He wanted to help them feel better while keeping you and the baby away from the bug. The last thing he wanted was for either of you to get sick. So, it made sense that the next person to get sick was himself.

Chan slept on the floor of the bathroom the first night. The tile was so cool against his body, which was so hot. He opened every window in your bedroom to try and cool his body off as he laid immobilized on the bed. The second day, you came in and shut the windows.

“I understand you’re hot, Chan, but it’s snowing outside.”

With all the strength he could muster, he rushed you out of the bedroom. The top floor of the house was ground zero, and now knowing first hand how awful this bug was, he wanted you as far away from him as possible.

The third day, Chan began to feel better. He was able to make it to the bathroom without having to stop for a break, and could successfully hold down soup. With the girls fully recovered, and Chan more than halfway there, he began to feel optimistic that the bug would skip over you.

Then, the baby got sick.

Within the next 10 hours, you started to vomit.

Chan was moved out of the bedroom and into his home studio so you and the baby could quarantine in there. From what Chan could tell, you got the worst of it. The first night he sat next to you while you sobbed into the toilet, afraid to leave because you didn’t know when the nausea was going to hit again. You could barely pick your son up, who weighed at least 10 pounds less than both the girls did at 15 months. Every time he cried, you would cry harder, feeling both miserable and guilty, like you were the one who got him sick.

The only positive was that both you and the baby slept, and slept hard. The physical exhaustion from vomiting and sweating all day meant you both were getting at least 12 hours a night. That was the only time Chan would leave your side, wandering down to the couch in his home studio.

Chan tried really, really hard to fall asleep that night. He took melatonin, drank sleepy time tea, even wore an eye mask to make sure it was completely dark. He just couldn’t shut his brain off. It was jumping all over the place - from worrying about you, to coming up with new track ideas. He couldn’t calm down enough to go to sleep.

Chan removed the eye mask to check the time on his phone. 11:00. He had been trying to fall asleep for 45 minutes without success.

“Fuck it.” He mumbled to him before turning on the lights and powering up all his equipment.

If he couldn’t sleep, he sure as fuck could work.

///

2:45 am, and Chan was thanking whatever God he could that Jisung’s sleep schedule was just as fucked up as his.

“I just finished the hook for this track, if you want to give it a listen.” Jisung’s groggy voice filled the empty studio. “If you’re too tired, I get it. Just thought you might want to-“

“Nah, man. I’m wide awake. Send it.” Chan said, clicking open his email to get ready for the track.

He listened to Jisung’s keyboard click as he waited. “Sent. Everyone in your house still feeling bad?”

The notification popped up before Chan could even refresh the page. “Almost everyone. The girls are feeling better, for the most part. I still feel a bit nauseous but not bad. Not as bad as…”

“Yeah, no, we got it too.” Jisung sighed. “I’m the only one who hasn’t started throwing up, so I’ve been on newborn duty.”

Chan smiled to himself, remembering when his kids were that small and the long nights spent together in the same room he was in now. “That was my favorite part.”

“Of course it was. You never sleep, it makes sense for you to take on the night shift.”

“I mean, true. But god, the alone time with them? The way their weight felt against my chest as they slept while I worked? There’s nothing like it. I miss it.”

Jisung chuckled softly. “I get that. Being needed is always nice.”

The conversation ended there, as Chan pulled up the track to review it. He smiled while listening to it; Jisung never produced a bad track, even if he hated hearing it.

“Ji, man. You just get better everyday.” Chan said as soon as the track ended.

“Shut the fuck up. The beat at 15 seconds sounds funny-“

“It’s different, but it flows well with the rest of the song.” Chan saved the track to his computer. “I want to play around with it a bit but I doubt there’s any adjustments I need to make. It’s fucking good.”

He could hear Jisung getting flustered on the other end of the phone. “You can change whatever you need. I have some other-“ his friend was cut off by a sudden wailing noise in the background. “Again? She literally fell asleep an hour ago- Ah, Channie, I gotta go.”

Chan smiled, feeling slightly envious of his friend. “Go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Jisung gave a quick goodbye before he ended the call, leaving Chan alone in silence. He pulled Jisung’s track back up, deciding to start messing around with it now. Maybe he could get it back to him before 5:00-

Chan was so caught up in the track that he didn’t hear the basement door close, or the thumping of tiny feet against the hardwood floor. He didn’t even notice his youngest daughter sneaking into the studio, dark, curly hair clinging to her face, a kangaroo doll clutched to her chest. He didn’t know she was there until he felt something tugging on his shirt sleeve.

Chan whirled around, spooked by the sudden movement. “Jesus Christ- oh. Jellybean, you scared me.” Chan said with a laugh. “What are you doing awake?”

She sniffled, and then Chan realized she had been crying. “I had a nightmare, Papa.”

“Oh, baby.” Chan scooped his daughter up, gathering her in his arms. His fingers found her hair, slowly threading them through it in an attempt to calm her down. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

She shook her head as she squeezed Chan tighter. “Just want Papa.”

“I’m right here, love.” Chan slowly moved the chair back and forth in a rocking motion, like he would do when they were babies. He kissed the top of her head, sweaty from sleep. As long as she needed him, he would stay, holding her against his chest.

“I have to do some work, Jellybean, but you can stay here with me if you want?” Chan whispered, pulling his chair back into the desk.

Sniffling, your daughter gave a small yes, determined to stay until she was certain there wasn’t anything lurking in her closet like her dreams had made her believe.

Chan played Jisung’s track at a low volume, adding some minor adjustments. He felt his daughter’s heart rate slow down, her sniffling stop, and he was almost certain she was asleep until she spoke again:

“Papa make this?”

“I wish. It sounds good, right?” She nodded her head in response. “Uncle Ji made it.”

He felt her smile softly against his chest. “Pretty.”

“It is pretty.”

His daughter moved her head to look up at her father. “Uncle Ji has a new baby, right?”

“Mhm. Baby girl.”

“Can we see baby soon?“

Chan smiled down at his daughter before pressing a kiss against her forehead. “When mommy and bubba feel better, we can go over and meet the baby.”

She smiled for the first time that early morning as she thought about holding the new baby. She nuzzled back into her father’s chest and said: “I like babies.”

“Babies are great.”

“I wish I was still a baby. Like Bubba. Or Uncle Ji’s baby.”

“Well, you may not be a baby. But, you’re my baby.”

“I like being your baby.”

Chan felt his heart swell as he squeezed his daughter.

Babies were fun. That bonding time Chan had with all his kids was fun. But this? This was so much better.

Lee Minho

Minho had been looking forward to this trip for weeks.

He had “spontaneously” planned it about a month ago after a long phone call with his mom. His parents didn’t live too far away from you guys; in fact, you often saw them once a week for family dinners. But, within the last few months, you all saw less and less of each other; weekly family dinners turning into monthly, if you’re lucky. The loss of family time had made his mom sad, and Minho shared that sentiment. He was close to his family, and not seeing them enough brought his mood down considerably.

After the phone call ended, Minho made his way to your shared bedroom. The bedroom tv softly played reruns of your comfort show, filling the otherwise dark room with soft blue tones. You were sitting with your back against the headboard, comforter bunched at your waist, breast pump humming softly. Minho shut the bedroom door quietly, causing your attention to shift from the tv to him.

You gave your husband a gentle smile, the same smile that made him fall in love with you all over again, and made grabby hands at him. Minho quickly dove into the bed, pushing his lower body under the duvet and resting his head in your empty lap.

Your right hand found his hair, threading your fingers through it slowly. Minho’s body visibly relaxed.

“Everything alright? You were on the phone for a while.”

Minho sighed sadly. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. I just miss my parents.”

“Me too, my love.” You said with a pout. “Did you invite them over for dinner this week?”

“I did, but dad has a work thing he can’t get out of.” Minho’s legs intertwined with yours as he tried to bring you closer to his body.

You two sat in silence for a bit. Minho felt his eyes grow heavy as you continued to play with his hair. Nobody had ever played with his hair before you. The first time you did it was at the beginning of your relationship, when he had had a really shitty day. You had held his head to your shoulder as he cried into it, one hand running up and down his spine while the other found his head. Ever since then, Minho sought your hands for comfort any time he was upset. He could always feel the tension leaving his body once your nails raked against his head. He felt safe and loved in your hands. You protected him.

“Min.” You whispered, removing your hand from his hair. “Can you move for just a second? I need to take the pump off.”

Minho rolled off your lap and onto his pillow, watching you as you carefully removed the full bags. His eyes drifted from your breast to the bassinet right next to the bed.

“When did she fall asleep?”

“About 45 minutes into your phone call.” You placed the sealed bags on your bedside table. “She was not very happy with me, though.”

“She’s never very happy with you.”

You chuckled softly, causing the corner of Minho’s lips to twitch up slightly. “She never is, is she? She definitely prefers you.”

“Ah, don’t say that-“

“I never said I was upset about it.” Pump off, you pulled yourself out of the bed in search of Minho’s shirt you slept in. “I love how much she loves you, because I love you just as much.”

Minho smiled, eyes never leaving the bassinet. He never thought he was capable of love until he met you, and then he didn’t think could love any deeper until she came along. She had smiled at him first. She had laughed at him first. He had always wished he had a sibling, but now he finally understood why some parents choose not to have more children; one was enough.

She was enough.

You finally found your shirt, quickly putting it on and grabbing the bags of milk. “I’m going to put these in the garage freezer, then we can go to bed. Sound good?”

You had slipped out of the room before Minho could respond, but it was okay. His thoughts were too focused on his daughter, what it felt like to be a parent, to be her parent.

God, he missed his parents.

By the time you made it back to the bedroom, Minho was running you through his idea. He had two weeks of unused vacation time, and you hadn’t left the city since the baby was born three months ago. You both needed a vacation, and Minho needed more family time. He would call his mom in the morning and run the dates by her, making sure they were okay with a two week visit.

And of course they were.

Every morning, on his way out the door, Minho would kiss your forehead, smother the baby with kisses, and shout how many days were left until your mini vacation.

“20 days!”

“13 days!”

“One week!”

“One more sleep!”

Before Minho knew it, you were making the short drive to his parents. Less than an hour without traffic, he planned to make it there before breakfast.

You sat in the passenger seat, knees up to your chest and leaning towards Minho. His hand rested firmly on your knee, rubbing his thumb in smoothing circles as he drove with one hand. The car was quiet; baby snoozing in her car seat, your playlist quietly filling the car, the morning summer sun warming the car slightly. In Minho’s opinion, it was the perfect day.

“My mom talked about taking Bubs to the zoo sometime this week.” Minho said, voice barely louder than the music.

“Hmm, that sounds like fun. I don’t think I packed her a hat, though.”

“Mom might have one. If not, we can always go out today and look for one. Dad said there’s this cute baby shop close by- FUCK.” Minho shouted, slamming on the brakes. His arm flew out in front of you, keeping you back against the seat.

If he hadn't been paying attention, he would have rear ended the car in front of him who hit the brakes just as hard as he did. The once quiet car was now filled with heavy panting, and loud cries of your daughter who woken from the sudden stop and Minho’s cursing.

“Bubs.” You panted, unbuckling your seatbelt and throwing yourself into the backseat. Quickly buckling her, scooping her into your chest and shushing her as you rocked her back and forth.

Minho was frozen. His arm that braced you still slung over the center console, his other hand gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. His body, once warm from the summer sun, was now ice cold with fear.

Nothing had happened; it looked like it was just an early morning traffic jam. Someone in front of him hadn’t been paying attention and slammed on their brakes too late, causing a domino effect. Causing him to slam on his brakes so he didn’t hit a car.

It could have been so much worse.

Minho shifted the car into park and quickly unbuckled his seatbelt. Fuck, it felt so constricting. Turning around, he reached behind him to grab your hand.

“Is she okay?” He asked, wide eyes staring at his daughter’s head.

You nodded your head. “I think she just got scared.” He heard your voice crack. His eyes shot up to your face, watching hot tears stream quickly down your face. “Fuck, Minho, that could’ve been so bad.”

“Oh, no.” Fuck traffic laws. Minho crawled over the console into the backseat with you, his mind anywhere but the cars surrounding him. “Hey, no.” His thumbs wiped your face clean. “It’s just a traffic jam. We’re okay.” He pulled both of you into his arms, your face buried into his shoulder as you sobbed.

Minho brought a shaky hand up to your head and slowly began combing your hair with his fingers. He planted a kiss on your forehead, keeping up with the flow of his hands. Your fingers always made him feel safe, and now he needed to do the same for you.

“I'm here. I’m right here, love.”

///

You refused to leave the backseat for the rest of the trip. You leaned over your daughter’s car seat, hands going from her little feet, to touching her little head, to grabbing her chubby hands. This was where you needed to be - right by her side. Even if it was just a little scare, the fear that threatened to drown you wouldn’t leave. You knew eventually it would, but now? For now, you weren’t leaving.

Minho didn’t want to drive. He didn’t want to be separated from either of you. He needed to be next to you, to feel your heartbeat against his chest, to feel your hands in his hair. He needed to feel his daughter’s hand gripping his finger, needed to hear her giggle as he kissed her belly over and over.

The traffic jam didn’t cut much time off the trip - Minho was back on his route in a matter of minutes. He drove quickly, wanting to be out of the car and in your arms.

The moment he parked the car, he was out, running to the back of the car to open your door. Once he flung it open, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in close.

In his head, Minho knew he was overreacting. It was a small traffic jam that was over quickly. If he had been by himself, he would’ve been pissed, but would’ve gotten over it before traffic even started moving again. But, he wasn’t by himself. You were in the car. She was in the car. And there was no way in hell he was going to let anything happen to either of you.

From her car seat, your daughter started to fuss. You turned around to grab her when Minho grabbed your arm.

“Let me.” He said, eyes brimming with tears. “Please.”

You nodded, sliding out of the car so he could climb in and grab her.

Her eyes were still shut, small baby fists up by her face as she tried to stretch the sleepy out. Minho smiled to himself, tears finally falling, as he pulled her out of her car seat.

“Oh, hi my girl.” He whispered. Your daughter, hearing her father’s voice, slowly cracked her eyes open. “I missed you.”

The baby yawned in response, nuzzling herself deeper into her father’s chest. Minho chuckled, leaning down and kissing all over her small face. The baby wiggled, and he swore she was trying to push him away with her tiny little hands. But, Minho didn’t stop. He kissed all over her face, blowing raspberries on her cheeks until she released a shriek like baby laugh.

Minho felt your chin rest on his shoulder, looking down at her. He blew one last raspberry on her belly this time, just to get her to laugh again.

You laughed with your baby. “Oh Bubs, is daddy so silly?”

She giggled in response, nuzzling back into his chest.

Minho was so caught up in his daughter that he didn’t even hear his mother approach the car.

“I thought I heard a car door!”

You turned around, running up to your mother-in-law. “Oh, hi, mom.”

Minho looked up to see you two hug, exchanging “I missed you”s and comments on new haircuts. The baby in his arms squirmed, ready for more attention from her father.

“Do I hear a baby?”

Minho smiled at his mom, then looked back down at his daughter, who was staring at him like he hung the stars.

She didn’t even know he felt the same about her.

As his mom’s voice grew closer, Minho felt safe. Minho felt loved. Minho felt comforted.

It was how he always felt with you and Bubs around, and his mom just added more warmth to those feelings. You two were his safety.

You two were his home.

Seo Changbin

Sundays.

A day for sleeping in.

A day for getting those last minute chores done before the new work week begins.

A day for easy dinners and family tv show nights.

Most families would say Sundays are their favorite day of the week. Sundays are easy, Sundays are quiet, Sundays are peaceful.

For Changbin, he would say it depends on the season. Because spring Sundays were anything but easy, quiet, and peaceful.

If he slept past 6:30 on a spring Sunday, he could go ahead and count the day as a loss, because there was no way he was coming back from that. All three kids were typically awake by 7:15, the twins grouchy and hungry as Bin tries to get them dressed for the day. You typically took baby duty; he preferred you to your husband and was struggling with dependency issues. Besides, Changbin would much rather tackle the two snappy seven year olds than let you navigate the absolute chaos that was the oldest boys.

The night before, Changbin set multiple alarms to make sure he woke up before you. Sundays were his busiest days, and he wanted to sneak a workout in before the chaos erupted in his household.

The problem with alarms is, no matter how many he sets, he will always sleep through them.

However, he was proud of himself today. He woke up on the third alarm instead of the sixth like usual. For a brief second, he thought this Sunday would be easier than all the other Sundays of this month.

Rolling over in the bed, he reached out for you only to be greeted by cold bed sheets. Changbin quickly sat up, thoroughly confused. He was sure he would be the first to wake up. After all, why would you be awake before him, at 5:45 on a Sunday? He cursed at himself under his breath as he hoisted himself out of bed and threw on the first pair of sweatpants he could find. This shouldn’t have happened. You shouldn’t have been awake before him, and he wanted to know why you were.

The moment Changbin stepped outside of your shared bedroom, he felt his foot press against something strong and sharp. He leaned against the door, hissing in pain as he picked up his foot to investigate what the hell he had just blindly stepped on.

“Goddamn cleats.” He cussed, kicking the shoe out of his way. How many times did he have to remind the boys to leave their shoes at the front door?

“Seo Changbin, shut UP.” He heard you hiss from the kitchen.

The kitchen?

At 5:45?

Limping slightly, he made his way to the kitchen. On the short walk there, Changbin found himself running into more things: his left big toe stubbed against a bat, he felt a pacifier squish under his foot, one of the twins’ many reusable water bottles almost made him slip and fall on the hardwood.

Changbin used to think he was envious of the people who got to clean on Sundays. Now he realized, as he stepped on the cleat matching the one in front of your bedroom door, he really fucking hated those people.

He was ready to curse everyone who had an easy Sunday until he saw you, and finally realized why you were the first one up.

Your hair was tied messily back, strands falling in front of your face as you supported the youngest of your three sons with one hand and used the other to peel oranges. The youngest had his eyes closed, nestled into your chest as he softly ate. Your shirt (that you had stolen from Changbin within your first year together and refused to return) was wet with a mixture of orange juice and baby spit up. You were frazzled, overworked, and exhausted.

And now, Changbin was upset he overslept for a different reason.

“Baby, why are you awake?” Changbin asked, rushing over to your side to grab the orange you were about to drop.

Once he grabbed it, you leaned against the fridge to support your weight. The baby weighed more than the twins and you were exhausted from supporting him with one arm for so long. “Bean was fussing, so I got up to go check on him and feed him. As I was doing that, I checked my phone and saw a reminder text that it’s our turn to bring snacks to the t-ball game this afternoon. I totally fucking forgot, Changbin. I tried to put him back to sleep, but with his dependency issues and cluster feeding, he wouldn’t let me put him down, so I brought him out here with me.” Your head hit the fridge door with a thud. “I only got three oranges peeled before I heard you yelling.”

Changbin felt his heart sink. He had spent so much time this morning grumbling about being behind schedule when you had been doing all this work by yourself. To say he felt like an asshole would be an understatement. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

You waved your hand as if to dismiss him. “You were sleeping so peacefully, and I knew we’d have a busy day today. I just wanted you to sleep.”

“First,” Changbin placed the orange on the kitchen island and closed the space in between you two, “always wake me up. You are far more important than any amount of sleep. Second, while I feel like such a fucking dick for letting you do this alone, I wanted to let you know how grateful I am for you. You are an amazing wife and an even better mother, and I couldn’t do this without you.” Changbin’s eyes drifted from your face to the baby attached to your chest. He had let go of your nipple, breathing heavily as he slept against your chest. “Third, you suck at peeling oranges. Let me take over. Go put Bean to bed and then yourself.”

“But, Changbin-“

“Nah, I don’t want to hear it. No kid is going to want to eat these oranges with a shitty peel job.” He playfully scoffed. “Who taught you how to do this? No wonder the twins never eat them when you pack them for lunch.”

Using your free hand, you playfully punched his shoulder. Changbin cried out in fake pain and dramatically grasped his shoulder, whining about how you injured his orange peeling arm.

“You’re obnoxious.” You whispered with a grin on your face.

“It’s been 10 years, you’re just noticing that?”

Laughing softly, you grabbed him by the forearm and pulled him in for a kiss. “I love and adore you.”

Changbin pecked your lips once, twice, and then a third time. “I love and adore you, too.”

He watched you walk out of the kitchen, heart swelling in adoration. You were like a superhero in his eyes - someone navigating the world with three loud, clingy boys and their equally clingy father with an abundance of grace. Changbin didn’t know how you did it, but he wanted to, because he never wanted you to have to go through this alone. The baby’s bedroom door shut, allowing Changbin to direct his attention to the half peeled orange in his hand.

He picked up one and glanced at the clock on the oven. 6:00 am. He had maybe an hour to get most of these oranges peeled before he had to start breakfast. There was no way he was going to let the twins go to their t-ball tournament without eating breakfast. Just like he wouldn’t let them go without sunscreen-

Sunscreen.

Shit.

That’s what he forgot to pick up at the store last night.

He aggressively picked at the orange, trying to peel them faster so he could slip away to the store before anyone else in his household woke up.

“Goddamn sunscreen.” He mumbled to himself.

Sundays in the Seo household were busy, loud, and chaotic.

But goddamn, did Changbin love Sundays.

Hwang Hyunjin

“Fuck.” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath as he takes a sharp left turn, barely missing the car speeding towards him. “Sorry!” He calls as the driver honked at him, as if they could hear his half ass apology.

The car pulled into a parking spot with a squeak, and Hyunjin barely turned the car off before throwing himself out of it. “Fuck.” He curses, yet again, locking the car before running inside. He was late. Like, late late. Hyunjin was never exactly “on time”, but he also was never this late. In his defense, he had lost track of time. It completely slipped his mind that it was Thursday.

There was a line at the clock out desk. He bit his lip and aggressively untied his ponytail, trying to distract himself before he started cursing in front of all the other parents at his daughter’s daycare. When it was his turn, his code didn’t work. Hands shaking with frustration, he pulled his phone out and quickly called you.

“Hyunjin-“

“What’s your code?” He slightly snapped.

“What code?”

“The code for Pumpkin’s school. What is it?”

“Our anniversary.”

“Which one?”

“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin-“

“We have like, five. Which one?” He hated when he lost his temper with you, and he knew he would be begging for forgiveness later tonight, but he was already going to have to apologize for how late he was.

“Wedding. 1027.” Your voice was laced with anger.

He quickly punched in the code and was rewarded with the click of the front door unlocking. “Thank you, honey.”

“Hurry, please.” You said and hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

Fuck.

That was three.

When pregnant with Pumpkin, you were insistent on applying for daycares early. They made you nervous, and you wanted some place that you felt safe leaving your child. Hyunjin had remembered Chan talking about this preschool they looked at for his son - very prestigious, excellent reviews, very low acceptance rate. The website promised small class sizes, lots of one on one engagement, parent/teacher interactions daily. It was the perfect school. Five months pregnant, you two toured the school and immediately sent in your application. Hyunjin got the call offering Pumpkin a spot while he was driving you to the hospital. But, she had gotten in. Four years later, you and Hyunjin were still so in love with the school.

So, that’s why he felt bad for sprinting through it today.

He almost slid past Pumpkin’s classroom, leaning in to catch her attention.

“Yah, Hwang.” He said. Your daughter snapped her head around, braids he had put in this morning loose from a busy day of playing. “Let’s roll.”

Your daughter put the marker she was coloring with down before sprinting to her father. Hyunjin squated to catch her, picking her up and spinning her as he kissed all over the top of her head.

“Hey, Pumpkin. How was your day?”

Before your daughter could answer, her teacher popped up in the doorway. “We have some papers for you to take home and sign,” the teacher said, handing Hyunjin what he considered to be a small packet “if you could turn these into the office by Monday, that would be great.”

He nodded, quickly saying thank you. “Say bye, Pumpkin, we’ve got to go-“

“Oh, quickly, before you run off.”

It took everything Hyunjin had inside him not to sigh.

“We had a bit of trouble keeping our hands to ourselves today. We pulled our friend’s hair quite a few times and-“

Your daughter looked up at Hyunjin, face scrunched in disgust. “THEY started it. They touched me when I said NO.”

Fuck.

Four.

“That wasn’t kind of them not to listen, you’re right. But that doesn’t mean you can-“

“But it’s my body, and I said no. Mommy said I can always be mean if they don’t listen to my no-“

“I mean, you’re right-“

“So I can pull hair.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Hyunjin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As much as he wanted to deep dive into this topic, the clock was ticking and they had to go. Now.

Hyunjin grabbed his daughter’s backpack, forcing her to apologize to her teacher before running back down the hallway and out the front door. During the first few years of parenthood, Hyunjin struggled with car seats. He couldn’t figure out the buckles, had a hard time taking them out of the car, and, much to your horror, often forgot to take coats off before buckling in. That mistake he fixed quickly, but the others? It took him years to get it right and get it done in less than two minutes.

Today, however, he broke his record, buckling Pumpkin up and adjusting the chest clip in 30 seconds even. He would brag about that later. It was time to go.

///

The class had already started by the time Hyunjin and Pumpkin came barreling through the door. His daughter, spotting her brother, dropped the doll and made a beeline to him.

Hyunjin sighed, as he scanned the room for you. You were sitting against the back wall with the rest of the parents, still dressed in work clothes, hair bumpy from the bun it had sat in all day. Hyunjin stepped over the other parents, sliding down the open spot next to you. He leaned in to give you a kiss on the forehead, but you moved your head before his lips could connect.

“Hey.” He whispered.

You shook your head. “You’re so late, Hyunjin.”

He sighed, bringing his pointer and middle finger up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I know, I’m sorry. Meetings ran long, and then I got caught up in the studio and completely lost track of time-“

“And then you snapped at me.”

“I did. I’m sorry. I was frustrated with myself for running late and lost my temper. I’m so sorry.” Hyunjin felt like shit. He should know by now; dance practice was every Thursday after school for both kids. You always picked up Bear, he always picked up Pumpkin. It was your family routine since they started dance class. Hyunjin had no excuse.

He stared at his kids who were smiling at each other, whispering about their days. They were best friends, and if Hyunjin thought about their relationship for longer than a few seconds, he would cry. He didn’t have siblings, so watching them love each other filled his heart with a joy he has never known.

“Bear had his timed math quiz today. Answered them all correctly.” You said, head leaning slightly towards your husband.

Hyunjin smiled. You did this often - you hated focusing on conflict for too long, and after apologies were given, you would switch the topic. You never held a grudge, especially against Hyunjin, and he was always grateful for your conflict management.

“Couldn’t have been me.” Hyunjin rested his head on yours, wanting to be closer to you. Typically, you both kept PDA to a minimum, especially at your children’s activities. Hyunjin, however, didn’t give a shit today. He needed to be closer to you. “I was awful at math.”

You chuckled softly, leaning into him more. “Same. I don’t know where he got that from.”

“Pumpkin pulled some kid’s hair today because they wouldn’t stop poking her. She said she told them no, and they wouldn’t stop, so she took matters into her own hands.”

“Good for her.”

“Right? We know where she got that from.” Hyunjin glanced down at you with a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Your voice dripping with sarcasm. “I always keep my hands to myself.”

Hyunjin couldn’t stop the loud laugh he released. The night you two had met, and the moment Hyunjin knew he needed to know you, he had watched you throw a drink in a man’s face. The man had been following your friend around all night, not taking no for an answer, and you had just gotten sick of it. When he approached your table for the fifth time that night, you had taken a sip of your vodka soda, then threw it right in his face. The man began to raise his voice at you and threatened you, while you just laughed at him crying over a little vodka in his eyes. Changbin had walked over to try to get the guy to leave you alone, and you had snapped at him, saying you could defend yourself. Eventually, the creep left. Changbin attempted to apologize to you by buying you a new drink, but you waved him off and gave him a quick apology of your own. It was then that Hyunjin went to retrieve his friend, sensing that you and your friends didn’t need another man hanging around your table. You had made eye contact with Hyunjin right as he grabbed Changbin’s arm.

“You don’t need to buy me a drink.” You had said to Changbin before looking at Hyunjin and smirking. “But if you wanted to, I wouldn’t stop you.”

So he bought you a drink.

And now you were watching your children stretch for their weekly dance class.

Hyunjin couldn’t be happier.

///

Bed time was the most draining part of Hyunjin’s day. It also happened to be bath night, which made the process longer and more complicated than Hyunjin would have liked it to be.

Pumpkin changed pajamas five times before she felt satisfied with the pair she had on. Hyunjin didn’t see what the difference was between this pair of polka dot pajamas and the other, but he was picking his battles. Finally climbing into bed, Hyunjin sat next to her, opening the first book she requested.

Midway through the book, Pumpkin looked up at her father. “Can you hold me, daddy?” Her voice was so soft, so gentle. How could he say no?

Collecting his daughter in his arms, he continued with the book. By the end of it, she was snoring - head against his right bicep, legs resting on his left arm, little hands gripping on his shirt as if she was afraid of him letting go. Hyunjin closed the book and let it fall to the floor, grabbing his daughter and holding her closer to his chest.

She wasn’t the snuggly kid. When Pumpkin no longer needed support, she rarely sought out hugs or cuddles. She just didn’t want it, and while he respected it, it had completely shattered his heart. He felt like she didn’t need him, and while he adored her independence, he just wanted to hold his daughter like he used to.

Hyunjin shifted lower in the small bed, trying to get more comfortable. He would sit like this just for a few more minutes. Then, he would lay her down, tuck her in, and crawl into bed with you.

Just a few more minutes of this.

Just a few.

///

Hyunjin’s eyes shot open when he felt someone playing with his hair.

“Hey. Want to come to bed?” You whispered, a soft smile on your face.

Wasn’t he in bed?

Why did the ceiling have stars on it?

Hyunjin turned his head to his left, where Pumpkin laid next to him. She had stretched out, but still had a tight grip on his shirt. The duvet covers were twisted and pushed to the middle of the bed, barely covering her little body. One of his legs hung off the side of the bed, foot brushing against the book he dropped earlier in the evening.

He brought a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“11:00.” You whispered. Fuck, he had been asleep a while then. “I didn’t want to bother you, but when I heard something fall, I figured it was time to wake you up.”

Something fell?

Hyunjin lifted his head to see his daughter’s alarm clock on the floor, numbers creating a pink hue on the carpet. He was too lanky for this small bed.

“I should probably…” his voice trailed off once he looked at his daughter again. Sleeping soundly. Eyes twitching as she dreamed. What was she dreaming about? He was dying to know what went on in her little head.

He looked back up at you, eyes hot with tears. “Can I stay here? Just for a bit longer.” His voice a shaky whisper.

You nodded before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

Hyunjin slowly reached down and grabbed the duvet cover, pulling it over both his and Pumpkin’s body. Pumpkin nuzzled into the warmth, head finding her father’s chest against. Carefully, he moved her slightly so he could fit his other leg on the bed.

She’s spunky. She stays ready to fight anyone who even looks at her wrong. She loves her brother more than Hyunjin ever thought someone could love a sibling. She’s funny, and loud, an absolute force. She looks just like him; big brown eyes, long black hair, always mimicking his disgusted face. She’s absolutely everything to him.

He placed a gentle kiss on her head, before allowing his eyes to shut. He was never leaving her side.

Han Jisung

Jisung is convinced he was made to be a father.

Nothing brings him more joy than caring for others or being needed. He loves when his younger friends, and sometimes older ones, rely on him for support or ask him for advice. He feels important, and likes that they see him as someone they can trust, who is always there for him.

So when you told him you were pregnant, he felt like running laps. It was a big show; first his eyes became saucers as he processed your news. Next came the jaw drop, quickly covered by his hands as he let out a soft screech. “Really?” He asked, and when you nodded, there was too much excitement in his body to stay still. Jisung jumped up from the bed, steps bouncy as he ran over to you, hugging you so tightly you had to warn him to be gentle.

“We’re having a baby.” He whispered in your ear.

The next time he said that sentence, it was more of a scream. So much so that Changbin, on the other side of the phone, cursed at him for being so loud and asked him to repeat himself. Jisung spent the next hour or so calling all of his friends, giddy about the fact that it was his turn to have a baby, and the best part about it? He gets to have a baby with you, the most important person in the world. The person who hung the stars, who holds the entire world in the palm of their hands. You. He gets to do this with you, and that’s all he could ask for.

By month three, he has the hospital bag packed (“We need to be prepared!” He said as he stuffed a quokka doll in the overpacked duffel bag). By month five, he had already read every new parent book he could find at the local bookstore. By month eight, you could place him in the middle of a delivery room and he would know exactly what to do. The amount of knowledge he retained in such a short amount of time was so impressive, and it really worked out in the end.

Your doctor commented that she had never had such a smooth delivery with a patient, and you really had Jisung to thank for it. Not only was he ready, but he knew how to keep you calm, how to support you and make sure you felt as prepared as he did. He helped you up from the bed, to the yoga ball, even to the inflatable pool, which is where you stayed until the baby was born not even an hour later. Sitting behind you in his swim trunks, Jisung held your hand, whispering encouraging words and repeated praises. You were magical, you were strong, and he was completely in awe of you.

His awe transferred over to your daughter. Your perfect, beautiful daughter with the squishiest cheeks anyone has ever seen. She had a full head of dark hair, and even though she was right out of the womb, she looked so much like Jisung it was almost scary. Copy and paste; she was his twin.

The obsession with her began when you told him you were pregnant, and only grew. Jisung practically lived with a baby carrier strapped to his chest, your daughter nuzzled against his chest as he went about his day. Be it the house or the studio, if Jisung was moving about, you could bet the baby was with him.

She was just as attached to him as he was her; the sound of his voice always made her big, brown eyes light up. She slept better when he put her down, did better in public spaces if he held her. They were inseparable, and it made your heart swell. You had front row seats to their love, often getting to be in the middle of their affection. The little family that everyone dreams of was your reality.

It was one of the rare days Jisung couldn’t take her to work with him; they were shooting all day, and frankly his stylist was over cleaning up baby spit up off his clothes. It broke your heart to see the way his eyes watered as lingered at the bedroom door to find an excuse to stay.

“Are you sure you feel well?” He asks you, trying to blink back his tears. “I can stay and make sure you get enough rest.”

You felt fine, there was no reason to ask that, but you could tell he was trying to find something to get him out of work. To let him stay home with his two favorite people in the world. “Ji.” You whisper, trying not to wake the baby asleep on your chest. “We’re going to be alright. Go to work, we’ll be here when you get back.”

He looks down at his feet, shoving shaky hands into his sweatpants. “I just miss you guys already.” And though you can’t see his face clearly, you know the tears have broken, a little sniffle accompanied by his confession.

A promise to FaceTime him later (more than once) is what finally gets him out the door after you kiss his tears away. Leaving her, leaving you, never gets easier. The older your daughter got, the harder it was to be away from her. Especially in such a heavy developmental stage; he was so scared he would miss big moments.

He had missed the first him she rolled over, and the day she started crawling. When he laid next to her on the ground during tummy time, it shocked him when she proceeded to crawl on top of him instead of staying still. Jisung turned his head to you as you stood by the couch.

“I was about to show you the video, but I guess she beat me to it.” You said with a giggle, dropping to the floor next to him to lay with them. She crawled fully onto Jisung’s chest, chubby baby hands grabbing his cheeks and squishing them between her little fingers. And while he was so proud of her, so excited to feel her death grip on his cheeks, he couldn’t help but feel sad that he missed seeing it first.

All day on set, he looked forward to your calls, praying that he didn’t miss anything exciting. So far the day seemed normal, if not dull. You called as you made breakfast, and he watched her refuse a spoonful of mashed pears.

“She doesn’t like them.” He said, eyes shut as they worked on his makeup. “I told you that, but you never listen-“

“She eats them for you!” You said, and he can hear his daughter fussing as you attempt to try again.

“Yeah, well she likes me best.”

When you huffed, he laughed, eyes opening just enough to see a playful pout on your face as you abandoned the pears and tried applesauce instead. You opened your mouth, mimicking the action you wanted the baby to make as you closed in with the spoon. When her lips wrapped around the yellow plastic, you smiled brightly, turning to the camera.

“She never eats applesauce for you.”

He shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Fine, she likes you better.”

“Thanks, I know.”

Both you and Jisung went about your days, him sneakily looking at his phone on set to see if there were any updates. He smiled at the selfies you sent, at the video of her gripping onto your hair and practically ripping it out, and at a clip of her watching one of his music videos, focused on him any time he was on screen. She giggled any time she heard his voice, inching closer to the screen as if she could reach him.

God, he wanted to be home.

Around dinner time, they finally started to wrap up, each member just as antsy to get home to their own families. Jisung was the first one changed and out the door, unable to slow down until he pulled into your neighborhood. The car was barely turned off before he barreled out of it, kicking his shoes off at the garage door and haphazardly throwing his backpack down next to them. Nothing was more important than seeing you two.

He found you in the master bathroom, leaning over the tub that was filled with an abundance of toys, but little water. You were singing to the baby, who was giggling loudly as you gently scrubbed shampoo into her thick hair.

Good. He hadn’t missed much of bath time.

“Hey.” Jisung said, walking over to the tub and kneeling down beside you. You turned to face your fiancé, smiling happily at his arrival. His lips gently brushed against yours, melting away every ounce of worry and stress the day had brought him.

“Hi.” You mumbled before giving him another kiss. “Sorry, I would’ve waited for you but somebody-“ you dramatically turned your head, playfully narrowing your eyes at your daughter, who giggled at the quick almost movement. “-decided she wanted to spit dinner up allllllll over herself.”

Jisung gasped loudly, pulling more laughs out of the child, who seemed too proud of herself. “Not my Squish.”

“Oh, your Squish.” Your own laughs were added in this time, unable to keep a straight face any longer. “Can you hang out with her for a minute? I forgot to grab a towel from her bathroom.”

Silly question - of course he was going to say yes.

Rolling up his sleeves, Jisung took over the bath time routine, clicking his tongue as he turned on the tap for fresh water. “Were you a pain today for mama?”

The smile on her face, which was often compared to his own mischievous smile, was telling enough. Covering his daughter’s eyes, Jisung rinsed the shampoo out of her hair, double checking that it was gone before grabbing a rag. Squeezing the soap onto it, he caught her staring at him. Almost a year old, and everyday, he falls in love with her all over again.

God, what did Jisung do to get so lucky?

“Alright, Squish.” Jisung said once the soap was lathered enough. “Ready for dada to-“

“Dada.”

“Huh?”

The rag dropped into the tub, the impact creating a small splash. Blinking, he stared at his daughter, who was ecstatic about the bubbles created by the rag at her feet. He knows he heard her wrong. There was no way she just-

“Say that again?” Jisung asked, completely forgetting that she’s a baby and isn’t capable of speaking on command.

But, she shocked him again. “Dada.” Blinking at him, she reached out for him while babbling his name over and over.

Jisung scrambled to find his phone before he remembered it was in his bag by the garage. Fuck, you need to hear this. He doesn’t want you to miss this-

“Did you wash her body yet?”

“Dada.”

You paused in your tracks, eyes darting from your daughter to Jisung. “Did she just-“

“She did.” He said, wide eyes still staring at the baby, who, much like her father, could not stop talking.

“Dada, dada, dada-“

The towel is abandoned on the ground as you run over to the tub, dropping down to your original position. Side by side, you and Jisung kneeled over the tub, staring at the baby.

“That’s her first word, Ji.” You whisper, reaching out to unfasten her from the bath seat. She didn’t stop talking, even as you pulled her out. Squirming, she reached out for Jisung, calling his name over and over until he took her from your arms.

He took her from you, shirt soaked as the baby settled in his arms. Awestruck, he rubbed her back, listening to her words because more of a babble, but it was impossible for him not to hear it. He was her first word.

You smiled at him, a hand falling to his cheek and redirecting his attention. When he looked at you, he saw the joyful tears in your eyes, saw the pure adoration you had for the two of them. “I’m so glad you’re home, Ji.”

Lee Felix

People always seemed surprised to find out Felix was a stay at home dad. Before having kids, he was very devoted to his job, often working later hours than necessary and bringing work home with him. He enjoyed his job, but he knew you did as well. So as soon as you surprised him with three sticks and a little stuffed chick, he told his boss that his last day was your due date.

Sure, he loved his job. But he loved you more.

That’s why he was now, very happily, standing in the kitchen making pancakes at 9 am. The five month old slept soundly in the fabric carrier against his chest. Little baby snores filled his ears along with the sound of your three year old’s crayons scraping across her coloring book.

“Bug, what do you want in your pancakes?” Felix softly called.

Your daughter hummed as she thought, then loudly exclaimed: “Chocolate chips!”

Felix laughed and shook his head, grabbing a handful of the semisweet chips and sprinkling them over the pancake.

“Extra, please!”

“Ah, you know you can’t have that much chocolate in the morning.”

She tsked, and for a brief second, Felix wasn’t sure if he was talking to you or your daughter. “But it’s a no school day. Please, daddy?”

Felix was nothing if not whipped.

Laughing softly, he grabbed a small handful and turned to look at your daughter.

“Fine, but don’t tell your mom, okay?”

Your daughter grinned as she nodded in agreement.

Felix swears up and down that she’s a carbon copy of you. From her jaw structure to her hair, all the way to her nose - when he looks at her, he sees you. From the moment he held her, he saw you. If possible, that made him love her even more.

But that smile? That was his. She had his smile, and that was enough for him.

Breakfast went smoothly. Felix decided to save the chocolate chips for your daughter and put blueberries in his. She squealed when she noticed the jar of homemade whipped cream he had placed in the middle of the table (“I helped daddy make this!”) and ended up waking her brother. Somehow, Felix juggled feeding the baby and feeding himself while keeping chocolate (mostly) off your daughter.

Typically, after breakfast, everyone would change out of their jammies into day time clothes. It helped Felix feel more productive, and if they ever needed to leave, he wouldn’t have to wrestle a three year old out of the too-small dinosaur onesie she refuses to take off. Felix decided to switch things up this morning, allowing your daughter to camp out on the living room floor with as many stuffed animals as she wanted and let her watch a movie before they went on their afternoon walk.

Felix enjoyed the simplicity of these kinds of mornings.

Not even halfway through Moana, your daughter was softly snoring at his feet. Felix sat with his back against the couch, on the floor with his children. To his right was the baby, staring up at the dim living room lights from the nursing pillow he was rested on.

“Whatcha looking at, little bug?” He asked in a whisper. The baby’s eyes moved quickly from the lights to his father, staring brightly up at him.

If your daughter had his smile, the smallest child had his eyes. Felix would never grow tired of looking into them.

“Mommy should be home soon.” Felix grabbed the child’s covered foot, shaking it lightly. “She should be here before we go on our walk. Should she come with us?” His fingers danced up the baby belly, softly tickling the sides. “Hm? Do you want mommy to go on a walk with us?”

Your son’s giggles filled the living room, smiling widely as his father tickled him.

That smile? That was yours. And that was Felix’s favorite feature.

Felix was so caught up on making his son laugh that he didn’t hear the front door open. He didn’t hear the way you kicked off your shoes, exhausted from your flight in. He didn’t see you slowly tiptoe into the living room, not wanting to interrupt the giggle party.

He was laughing with his son, smothering the soft baby face with small kisses. Your son squealed, loving every bit of the attention he was getting from his father.

You would hate to interrupt, but you didn’t want to be left out of the party, either.

“What are you two giggly boys doing?” You asked, leaning over the couch to peek at them.

Your son, seeing your head pop up above him, giggled harder. His stubby hands reached up, wanting to be in your embrace. Quickly, you climbed over the couch and sat next to Felix, scooping the baby up and smothering his face with kisses.

“Oh, I missed you so much baby bug.” You said with a content sigh, squeezing your baby into your chest, determined to never let him go.

Felix pressed a soft kiss against the side of your forehead. “Hey, love.”

You smiled, turning to fully face him. He was so close you could count his freckles. “Hi.”

Felix’s left hand reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning into his touch, you sighed. Your work took you to many places, but no place felt as warm as here did. No place felt as comfortable. As soon as your plane landed at a new destination, you were always ready to leave.

Because any place without Felix, without your babies, wasn’t a place worth being.

Felix kisses you deeply, hand holding your chin steady. He tasted like whipped cream and coffee, smelled like baby soap and his cologne. He brought both hands to your face to kiss you deeper. He wanted you to feel how much he loved you. How much he missed you.

Whenever someone asked Felix why he chose to stay home with his children, the answer was always an easy one.

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips.

He smiled, kissing the tip of your nose.

Because nothing, no job, no person, no place, would ever mean more to him-

“I love you, more.”

Your hand softly touched his cheeks, ready to go in for another kiss, when you heard movement at your feet.

-than the three of you do.

“Mommy?” Your daughter asked, voice groggy with sleep. She crawled up both yours and Felix’s legs, burying her face in your lap.

You smiled, tucking her hair behind her ears as she fell back asleep.

“You know,” you whispered, careful not to disrupt the peace, “she looks like you.”

Kim Seungmin

Seungmin firmly believes you can never be too prepared.

Car won’t start? Don’t worry, Seungmin has jumper cables and his mechanic on speed dial if he can’t get it started for you. Forgot your headphones for a five hour flight? Not sweat; he brought three extra pairs just in case. Stupid hangnail bothering you? Give him a second to find the spare set of clippers he always has. And don’t worry, they’re sanitized after every use.

If anything, you could say that Seungmin is over prepared.

But isn’t it better that way? No more stressing, trying to figure out how to handle a situation that’s just been thrown at you. If Seungmin is there, you have nothing to worry about, because he’s ready. His backup plans have backup plans. You can rest easy knowing he is prepared for the absolute worst at any moment.

Well, every moment, except one.

He knew about your pregnancy before you did. His phone had notified him that your new cycle was due, so he waited for your typical period requests.

“Can we just order in tonight?”

“I ate the last of the popcorn, could you go out and grab more?”

“Minnie, could you pretty please run a hot bath for me?”

As always, he was prepared.

But when days passed with no requests, Seungmin began to think it wasn’t coming.

He came home with two boxes, four tests in total. You were confused - your period was only five days late. It wasn’t that big of a deal. But, knowing how your husband always wants to be prepared, you agreed to take the tests.

You two sat crisscross on the bathroom floor across from each other, tests face down. When the alarm went off, you grabbed two each, counted down from three, and flipped them at the same time.

Four VERY positive tests.

And thus, the baby prep began.

Seungmin read every book he could get his hands on, from what to expect during birth to early childhood development textbooks. He researched different ways to give birth, took notes, and thoroughly discussed every option with you. He watched so many birthing videos, he could probably deliver a baby himself. Seungmin asked all the right questions at every appointment without overstepping, listened to you about what you felt was best, and made sure he was ready for a baby to come at any moment.

The hospital bag was packed at twelve weeks. The nursery? Up at twenty weeks and finished within a day, with the help of Seungmin’s friends.

“Why do I have to build the crib? It’s not my baby.” Jisung whined from the nursery floor.

“Shut up and hand me the screwdriver.” Changbin replied.

Kim Seungmin, prepared for anything.

You were late and growing more frustrated by the day. The back pains were almost unbearable, you bend over to tie your shoe, and why, for the love of god, were you dripping in sweat in the middle of January?

Your doctor set a date for induction, even though you fought her on it.

“We’ll schedule it just in case.” She said, helping you off the exam table. “If he comes sooner, great, but we need to be prepared in case he needs some help.”

“I just would rather him come when he’s ready.”

Your doctor smiled sympathetically at you. “I understand. This is just a backup plan. I can give you some tips on how to naturally induce labor so we can try to avoid medically inducing it.”

And of course, Seungmin made sure you tried every single suggestion.

He even worked them into your nightly routine.

Before dinner, you two would take a 20 minute walk. Seungmin made dinner extra spicy every night, making sure you ate an entire jalapeño pepper with every meal.

And of course, the most effective method: sex.

All the time. Everywhere. Any chance you both got, Seungmin was on you. In the shower, on the couch, in the studio; Seungmin was happy to help you get this baby out.

Even with all his hard work, you were no closer to labor than you were at your last appointment.

Two days until your induction date, and Seungmin’s fingers were lightly tracing circles on the inside of your thigh.

“We don’t have to.” He whispers, placing a soft kiss on your belly.

“I want to.” You said, lightly grabbing his hand. “I want to try.”

Seungmin smiled gently at you, picking up your hand and pressing a firm kiss against it. “I love you.” He whispers, dropping your hand and returning to your thighs. Picking your leg up, he rested your foot on his shoulder and began to pepper kisses on the inside of your thigh. “You’re incredible.” His other hand slowly worked up your other thigh, drawing closer and closer to where you wanted him. “There’s no one else I rather do this with.” Seungmin places one last kiss on your thigh before lowering it down and bringing his head closer towards the middle of your thighs.

“So pretty.” He whispered, then slowly brought two fingers up to your clit.

Then, you screamed.

Seungmin sat up quickly to look at you. He was used to you screaming when he was in between your legs, but this scream was different. It sounded like you were in pain.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, searching your face to try to figure out what happened.

Then, he saw it.

The way you were holding your belly, head thrown back, teeth grinding against each other.

“Fuck.” Seungmin exclaimed, scrabbling out of bed to find his sweatpants. “Fuck, where are my clothes?”

You had read the books with Seungmin, you had watched the videos. You thought you knew what was coming. But, you were never quite as prepared as your husband.

“Fuck, Seungmin, it hurts.” You cried, looking for something to grasp onto.

He had successfully found his pants, grabbing yours before he rushed back to your side.

Squatting by your head, Seungmin grabbed one of your hands and used his other hand to brush the hair that dropped in front of your face back. “Hey, hey, I’m right here. Breathe with me, okay?”

You shook your head. “I can’t. I can’t, Seungmin. I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll count, okay?”

You squeezed his hand tightly, focusing on the sound of his voice and the way his breath felt against your neck. The contraction slowly faded out once he hit the twentys.

Seungmin kissed the side of your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered. “Let me help you get dressed. It’s time to have a baby.”

///

Seungmin expected your labor to last longer. Within an hour of checking in and moving you into a room, your contractions grew in length and the time between shorten. You were pushing before you could even ask for an epidural.

Seungmin never left your side (not that he would even consider it). He held your hand with both hands, encouraging you to squeeze as hard as you needed to. He counted breaths with you, encouraged you, and kept you stable during the entire process.

A few minutes into pushing, in between contractions, you rolled your head to the left to look at him. Hair stuck to your face, tears stained your cheek, your lip was bleeding it from biting it so hard, and Seungmin swore you had never looked more beautiful in your entire life.

Taking a deep breath, you smiled weakly at your husband. “We’re having a baby.” You said, voice raspy from screaming.

Seungmin smiled back, squeezing your hand. “We’re having a baby.”

“I love you so much.” Fresh tears began to roll down your face. “You’re already the best husband, and now-and now-“ your face winced in pain as another contraction hit. Seungmin jumped back in to support mode, helping you ride it out.

A few contractions later, Seungmin heard it. His son.

The baby, bigger than Seungmin thought he would be, was placed on your chest. You let out a cry of both joy and relief, dropping Seungmin’s hand to hold your baby. Sobbing, you held the baby into your chest.

“You’re here. You’re here.” You whispered through your tears, rocking the small child back and forth.

They took your son away before Seungmin had a chance to hold him. It’s okay, he knew that the next steps after birth. He was prepared.

He was always prepared.

An hour and five stitches later, you were soundly sleeping in your hospital bed. You tried to stay awake, wanting to be up when they brought your son back. Seungmin swore he would wake you up and convinced you to nap until then. He spent the hour calling his parents, your parents, his friends - anyone he could get ahold of at two in the morning.

There was a soft knock on the door, and then a nurse let himself in. Seungmin stood up quickly, watching as the nurse rolled the baby’s bed up next to you.

“Congratulations, Mr. Kim.” The nurse whispered, and then excused himself from the room.

Once the nurse was out, Seungmin took off his shirt. He was prepared; he knew skin to skin contact was important for infants.

He stood over his son and stared at him. He had a head full of thick, black hair and the cutest button nose Seungmin had ever seen. He couldn’t believe that he had a hand in creating something so wonderful, so perfect, so beautiful.

Careful as to not wake the baby, Seungmin picked him up and cradled him to his chest. “Hi, peanut.” He said, then placed a soft kiss right on his forehead. “I’m dad.”

Slowly, his son’s eyes opened and found his own.

Seungmin was always prepared.

But nothing - no books, no videos, no parenting classes - could ever prepare him for the love he felt when looking into his child’s eyes. In that moment, Seungmin was unprepared. He didn’t know what to expect.

And it was the best feeling in the world.

Yang Jeongin

If Jeongin had to describe his son’s first day of kindergarten in one word, it would be: unfortunate. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.

The morning started out fine; everyone woke up on a time and was in a good mood. You and Jeongin even woke up with enough time to slip into the shower together before waking up your son for the day. Typically, fucking you dumb first thing in the morning is the sign of a good day. He really had no idea that it was just downhill from there.

You decided to wake your son up since you had to slip out to work early. Time with him today was precious, and Jeongin knew you would be a ball of tears if you didn’t get one on one time. So he took breakfast duty, determined to make an omelet as good as you do.

He was doing well; the topping fit perfectly, he folded it beautifully. For his first time, he was excelling. Maybe he should take a picture and brag about it in his group chat. There’s no way Hyunjin can make an omelet like this-

“What’s burning?”

Ah, fuck.

The omelet was too far gone, there was nothing he could do to save it. Scraping it, Jeongin decided to try his luck again, only to ruin it immediately. Whatever, sugary cereal is a great first day of school ever breakfast, right?

Your son certainly thinks so. When Jeongin places the bowl in front of him, the black haired boy smiles widely before shoveling the cinnamon cereal in his mouth.

“Slow down.” You say with a chuckle, placing a sliced apple on a plate next to his bowl. “You’re going to get sick.”

When he eats, you can tell he’s Jeongin’s son; cheeks puffed and full as he takes large bites. Round eyes look at you, silently pouting at your request. It’s too good to slow down. Besides, his father eats like this, why can’t he?

You look across the table at Jeongin, pointing at your son with your thumb. “This is your fault.”

He looked up from his breakfast, cheeks just as full and eyes just as large. A mirror image of his son, large bites and all. It makes you chuckle, even if you fear that they’re going to choke every time they eat.

Once breakfast is finished and the dishes are put away, it's time for you to go to work, and Jeongin to take your son to school.

“Mommy, no-“ your son whines, squirming away as you try to fix his uniform. “Don’t wanna take a picture.”

“Please, bubba? Just one, and then you and papa can-“

“No!” He fusses, moving out of your grasp. Sadly, you drop your arms in defeat. You’re not going to force him to do something that makes him uncomfortable, no matter how upset it makes you.

You look at Jeongin, who was watching this unfold from the garage door. He saw the tears in your eyes - both from having to leave and the rejection.

“It’s fine that you don’t want a picture, but can I at least have a hug?” You ask your son, not knowing if you can handle another no on a big day.

Luckily, your son crashed into your arms and hung tightly onto you. You kissed the top of his head, savoring his sweet hug before he complained about you squeezing him too tight.

Saying goodbye at the car was hard for you, lingering at his window for far too long to get one last look at him before school. Jeongin waited patiently until you stood to your full height. Your husband grabbed you, pulling you into a hug.

“It’s just school.” Jeongin whispered in your ear. “He’ll be back in a few hours.”

You nod your head, sniffling against his shoulder. “It’s just hard, ya know? He’s not a baby anymore.”

The last sentence made his heart sink, your emotions beginning to rub off on him. Quickly, he shoved the feeling to the back of his mind for both your sanity and his. “He’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.”

“Will you?”

A fantastic question, one that he wished he could answer, but was cut off by the impatient five year old in the backseat. You said goodbye one more time, fussing over the buttons on your son’s shirt before slipping in your car. Jeongin followed suit, leaving the garage right after you.

The goodbyes had set them back just a bit, but that was okay. The school was only a ten minute drive, and they still had plenty of time to-

“Papa?” His son chimed from the back. “I don’t have my backpack.”

Okay, so maybe they’ll be a little bit later than expected. Jeongin turned the car around, back home in less than a minute. The backpack was sitting by the garage door, making it easy to grab it and throw it in the passenger seat.

“Alright, all-“

“What about my foxy?”

Jeongin sighed, turning around in his seat to look at his son. “Foxy can’t come to school with you, Bubba. We talked about this-“

“But I need him.”

“Foxes don’t go to school. They stay at home where mama and papa can-“

“No! Need him!” His son cried, kicking the backseat. This wasn’t like him; typically the quietest, most mild mannered child, your son rarely threw fits. Jeongin knows it’s because of what today is, but he was determined to stand his ground. The fox was staying home-

-until he felt a shoe hit the back of his head as he tried to pull out of the garage for a second time that morning. Fine. The fucking fox can come.

Third time’s a charm, right? There were no hiccups this time as Jeongin left the house, Bubba happily humming in the backseat along with the music. Foxy was snug against his chest, a happy smile on his face. He might be missing a shoe, but hey, at least he’s happy.

And Jeongin can still make it on time. There shouldn’t be any more interruptions, now that his son is happy and he’s actually on the road. Everything should be smooth sailing from now on.

Of course there’s stand still traffic. Why wouldn’t there be?

Jeongin’s head hits the headrest, a groan leaving his lips as he rubs his face. This was not how today was supposed to go. First the omelet, then the picture, the backpack and the damn fox, and Jeongin’s pretty sure he has a headache from being hit with the shoe.

“Papa?”

“Hm?” He grunts into his hands.

“Why aren’t we moving?”

Sighing, Jeongin drops his hands, moving them back to the steering wheel. “Good question.” He mumbles mostly to himself.

For ten minutes, they stayed completely still, both slowly losing their patience. The Jeongin look-a-like was losing control faster than his father, kicking the back of his seat in protest. Like Jeongin could do anything about the traffic.

Right as Jeongin was about to say fuck school and turn around, the car in front of him moved. Whatever had been holding them up was over, a steady stream of cars now flowing into the school’s parking lot.

Jeongin finds the first parking spot at the back of the lot, quickly getting out of the car. He picks his son up, sitting him on the roof and putting his shoe back on (much to his son’s protest). Once it was on, he narrowed his eyes at the boy.

“I need you to give me Foxy now.” He said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Fear flushed his face, tiny fist gripping onto the fox’s white fur. “No. He has to go to school too.”

“Bubba-“ But when his son started lifting his foot like he was about to kick, he realized the damn fox wasn’t worth it. Jeongin would much rather get chewed out by the teacher, and you, than take a tiny foot to the face at 8:00 am. “Fine. But you have to take a picture for mama.”

The bribe worked - the innocent smile he gave the camera in front of the school made Jeongin roll his eyes. They walked into the school hand and hand, Bubba hiding behind Jeongin’s leg as they closed in on his classroom.

They stood in the line of parents, and before they could blink, it was their turn. Jeongin squatted down, eye level with his son, who was nervously holding onto his stuffed animal.

“Hey, Bubba.” Jeongin said softly, a hand reaching out to pat his head. “You okay?”

His son shook his head, burying his face in the fox. “I’m scared, Papa. Wanna go home-“

Jeongin felt his lip tremble as he looked at his son, who had been on his last damn nerve all morning. His sweet, nervous boy, who was acting out because of the newness of it all. His heart softened, and suddenly, his head stopped aching, every nerve easing.

“I know.” He whispers, smoothing his son’s hair. “I’m scared, too. You’re so much braver than Papa, I couldn’t ever do this.” His eyes began to sting, pride filling his heart. When did his baby get so big? “Do you want me to walk you in?”

His son looked inside the classroom, wide eyes scanning the room. Slowly, he shook his head no before looking back at his father. “No, I do it.”

Jeongin nodded. “Hug?”

The fox lessened the blow of his son’s crash. Jeongin held tightly until his son squirmed free, his wide eyes no longer nervous.

“I love you, Papa.”

That’s when the first tear fell. “I love you, too, Bubba.”

He watched as his son sprinted into the classroom, making a beeline to the musical instruments in the corner of the room. Lingering for just a second, he watched his son turn to the little girl next to him, excitedly giving her his name before asking if she wanted to play with him.

Jeongin’s heart ached in the best way possible as forced himself to walk away, silently crying as he left his son behind. It was silly - he’s going to be back here in a few hours to pick him up. There’s no reason to be so-

His phone pinged, announcing a text from you. When he pulled out his phone, the picture taken just moments ago was still up.

Everything went wrong today, so many hiccups in a day that should’ve been so easy. Yet, no matter how badly everything went, he wouldn’t trade a second of this day for anything. Even he can’t seem to stop crying.

©: chvnnie 2022

2K notes · View notes

katieraven · 2 years

Text

insomnia

idol!chan x producer!reader, afab!reader

word count: 4.9k

genre: tiiiiny bit of angst, fluff, smut - minors dni please!

warnings: sleep issues, (work-)friends to lovers, a teensy bit of anxiety I guess, dom!chan, brat!(?)reader - idk how to describe it tbh there's no reeeal dynamic of that kind, oral sex (f. receiving), choking, piv, he calls her babygirl once, darling and baby used very sparingly, basically they've both been into each other and didn't quite realise that until now -- did I miss smth?

summary: chan helps you with a work issue and it turns into something different

a/n: hii so it has finally happened, my first skz fanfic has arrived! I already have wayy too many ideas for future ones and I'm like not a hundred percent satisfied with this one but it's the first thing I've written in a year (?) so go easy on me please. I just needed to get my chan feelings out in some way or form and this happened ANYWAYS enjoy byyye - katie

also hi @chvnnie this is the fic I was talking about - you've been a huge inspiration btw I would almost go so far as to call you the main reason I wrote this at all whoops

this is a work of fiction and does not represent stray kids.

You’re in your head. It’s not an unusual thing, in fact it’s how you spend most late-night hours in your tiny studio. You almost live here, it’s basically your second home. If not your first, your actual flat being your second. While a lot of people stay late to work on their various projects, only very few stay quite as late as you do.

It’s one of the few moments you are not troubled by the weight on your shoulders. Three a.m. in the morning, absentmindedly reaching for a cup of now cold coffee, drinking it without noticing its staleness, too deeply immersed in whatever you’re working on to care. Your fingers are flying over the keyboard, eyes flitting over the different tracks in the audio program before you, feverishly changing, moving, improving.

Only today something goes wrong. You don’t know what you did, but within seconds, everything is gone. You blink. The audio program is empty. Not a single track lies before you. The progress you’ve amassed over the last hours, days rather, vanishes right before your eyes. You try a couple of short-keys and combinations but not one single track returns.

“Ugh, fuck me”, you sigh, wiping your face.

“Well, if you insist …”

It startles you, but once you recognise the voice, you relax. Chan is standing in the doorway of your studio – you had left the door open to let some air in, after a particularly hot afternoon. The building was empty enough for there not to be anyone walking past. Well, almost.

Chan smirks at you, one dimple appearing in the corner of his mouth. While usually his comment would have made you laugh, chuckle at least, you can only huff out a lightly amused breath, before turning your head back to your monitor. Still empty lines where tracks used to be half a minute ago. Chan’s smirk turns into a frown.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

His concerned voice touches something inside you and you feel tears well up in the corner of your eyes. No. You’re not going to cry.

“I, uh, it’s nothing, really.”

“Sure”, he scoffs. “Cause I’m gonna believe that.”

He appears to the left of you and looks over your shoulder. After a couple more short-keys and opening three folders, you give up and lean back in your chair with a sigh. You’re not going to cry. It’s okay. It’s fine.

“Will you tell me what is going on or do I have to magically divine it from the fact that you are sitting in front of an empty audio program?” Of course, he got it immediately.

“I was working on something, and it vanished.”

He hums and his eyes focus on the monitor in front of you.

“It’s not important, really, I can do it again.”

His left eyebrow raises, then he leans over your keyboard and starts working on getting your tracks back. You feel guiltier the longer he takes, it’s just your own, self-indulgent stuff after all.

“Really, you don’t have to … it’s nothing important.”

“Tell that to the artists you’re working with. Or the hours you probably spent on this.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s-“

The tracks reappear. All of them. Like magic. You can only stare at the screen, dumbfounded. He stands back up, a proud smile on his face. Then he hits the spacebar, and the beat starts filling the tiny studio. You startle and jump forwards to stop him, but he grabs your shoulder and presses the spacebar himself.

“Why don’t you want me to listen to it?” He asks, a slight frown on his face.

You wipe your face. “It’s … personal.”

Chan crouches down next to you so that he’s roughly on eyelevel with you. “Hey. It’s just me.”

You turn the chair towards him, and he grabs the armrests. You look at him for a beat, then it hits you that you just almost lost everything you’ve been working on for a while. This is different than your usual work. This is personal. It’s a song that you’ve been producing only for yourself, not JYPE, not any other artist. This is your baby. You just almost lost it, and he brought it back. The tears come back, and this time they’re stronger. You just let it roll over you.

As soon as the first tear falls, Chan’s expression drops. “Oh no, no, what’s wrong?”

His hands fly from the armrests to your knees, then your thighs, rubbing soothing patterns up and down. Your sobs turn into hick-ups, and you hate it, hate that he sees you this vulnerable. No one ever does, you wear armour at work. It’s what you remind yourself of now. You reach for the shield you put up around your heart with both hands and pull, until it’s up again and your sobs die down. That’s the reason, yes. Not the fact that Chan is still kneeling in front of you and hasn’t stopped rubbing your thighs.

You breathe out shakily. In again, and out. Then you finally dare to look at him. “Thank you, for saving it.” You gesture towards the screen.

His look is still probing, searching for what you just broke down for, but a smile curls up the corners of his mouth. “Of course. It wasn’t that far gone, honestly. I barely did anything.”

You roll your eyes and weakly slap his arm. “Stop always understating everything you do.”

He chuckles. “I apologise profusely.” The formal tone makes you smile a bit.

“Now. Will you let me listen to this absolutely not important personal stuff you made?”

You hesitate and look at the open door.

“Let me rephrase. If I close the door, will you let me listen?”

This, and the adorable face he’s pulling, finally makes you laugh and cave. “I guess, yeah.”

Your eyes follow him as he gets up and walks to the door, closes it, and locks it.

“For good measure”, he winks.

It’s one of those moments that make you realise that in all the time you’ve been at JYPE, you’ve made a lot of acquaintances and a couple friends, but none as wonderful as him. You often think he’s too good for this world – the rest of his friends do, too. Although the rest of his friends probably don’t get all warm and fuzzy inside when he smiles at them. Or find it hard to concentrate when he wears muscle shirts. Or watches his performances, more than necessary, and then blames it on just wanting to be a good friend. Supporting him, and such. God you’re down bad.

He walks back to his spot next to your chair. His finger hovers over the space bar and he looks at you, the unspoken question in his eyes. You steel yourself and nod.

Then the beat fills the studio again. It’s the first time you have heard this aloud yourself, so far, you’d only ever listened to it on your headphones. You’re almost scared to look over to see his expression, terrified of his opinion. This is like a tiny piece of your soul, and you just handed it to him, hoping he would not drop it. Of course, he doesn’t. When you finally do, he stands there, eyes wide, looking over at you. His intense stare makes you squirm.

“It’s nothing special, and it’s not done yet, you know how it is with these things, they take ages to be finished and this is just very rough, I-“

“This is amazing”, he interrupts you. Now it’s your turn to be absolutely dumbfounded. “What?”, you blurt out.

He turns the music down a tad, then he turns back to you.

“I really like it. And it’s different from the stuff you make for other artists.”

Somehow, you’re still anxious.

“What I mean by that is that I always hear pieces of you in other people’s music and I’ve always been a bit sad that you don’t get to make stuff that’s entirely your own. This – “, he gestures over to the screen, “is really you. All of this. Like, I can hear some of your inspiration in this, but the entire thing just screams you.”

Which is the exact moment your singing starts, and you want to vanish into the ground. Because his mouth falls open, and he turns the music up again. Moments go by of him just standing there, completely taken by the music. His expression has softened and there is a slight smile dancing around his features. You lean over to turn the music off again, there’s only so much time that you can take listening to your own voice right now.

When Chan turns back to look at you, head slightly angled down, you’ve never seen a warmer smile from him than right now. It overwhelms you, the sheer affection for this wonderful man in front of you, and you shoot to your feet and throw your arms around him. He is startled for just a second, before he hugs you back so tightly that you feel like he put something inside you back together. It makes you cry again.

“Shh. It’s okay, darling. It’s okay.” He rubs circles along your back, and you breathe in slowly, engulfed by his scent that is so distinctly him.

“Thank you”, you mumble into his shoulder, and he chuckles, before pulling away. “What did you say?”

You huff, and lightly punch his arm. “I said thank you.”

“No, thank you for trusting me enough to show this to me.”

You try to hide in the crook of his neck, but he keeps you half an arm’s length from him. Somehow, you end up staring right into his eyes. The honesty and affection you find there send goosebumps up your arms, up until where his hands are still wrapped around them. Suddenly you realise how terribly close you are to each other, and how he’s just a friend and this shouldn’t make you as tingly as it does. You shake off his hands and clear your throat. He just sees you as a friend. Right?

Because the way his eyes burn with something you’ve never noticed before makes you question your own sanity. You try and look anywhere but into them.

“Hey, we should probably unlock the door again, you know, unless people start to wonder.”

He blinks. “Yeah.”

None of you moves.

“But it’s also 3 a.m. and we’re the only people in the building.”

There’s nervous laughter bubbling in your throat and you rub your arm only to keep your hands occupied. Then you make the mistake of looking at him again. It’s involuntary, really, your eyes get caught on his black sweatpants and travel up his body almost automatically. There’s not much you can do about it. And when your eyes hit his, you’re done for. He looks at you with such intensity that you simply cannot turn away. A shaky breath leaves your lungs when he blinks slowly, only to look at you again, the same fire in his eyes, pupils blown wide.

You open your mouth, “Chan, I – “

He moves closer, as if you saying his name had shaken him out of a stupor. He reaches for the hand that you wrapped around your arm and gently pries it away. When it falls to your side, he intertwines his fingers with yours.

“What are you doing?”, you whisper, unable to speak any louder, scared that it would make this real. Make this have consequences.

Chan’s thumb is drawing patterns on your hand, and it covers you in goosebumps again.

“I kinda really wanna kiss you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes still locked onto his. They’re burning into you, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. He lifts his other hand up to your face and lightly touches your cheekbone. You have to actively keep your eyes from fluttering shut, body still covered in goosebumps. Your cheeks heat up under his gaze.

“Would that be okay?”

You breathe out a shaky “yes”, and he’s on you in seconds. He lets go of your hand and instead grabs both sides of your face, tilting it so that you’re looking up at him, before sealing your lips with his.

Everything is happening too fast. For a second, your arms hang limply at your sides, but then he starts moving against you and you can’t help but grasp the hem of his shirt and pull him closer. He hums against you, and you open your mouth almost on instinct. A tiny noise escapes you and he catches it, drinking it in hungrily. You push and he walks backwards until the back of his knees hit your chair. He clumsily sits down, and you move until you’re straddling him.

Only then do you break the kiss, both heavily panting as you stare at each other. You lift your hand from his shirt and start tracing his lips, his cheekbone, until your palm lies flat against his cheek. He nuzzles into it and closes his eyes, hands falling to your waist. God, you think, he’s so pretty. You watch his chest rise and fall rapidly and feel his thighs move under yours, and that’s when you realise what exactly is happening right now.

“Channie”, you whisper, and his eyes fly open, fingers playing with the hem of your t-shirt.

“Hm?”

“What are we doing?”

His fingers start pulling your shirt up just enough to be touching the delicate skin of your waist and you shiver, biting your lip to stop a sound that would have been decidedly too desperate.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m doing something I’ve been wanting to do for way too long.”

Your hand slips to his neck and his eyelids flutter, but there is a concerned look in his eyes. He sees your hesitation.

“Should we be doing this? Are you even allowed to?”, you ask.

His fingers stop and he lifts his hands to your face, searching for something in your eyes. “I could not care less about what we should or shouldn’t do. The only thing I care about right now, is if you want this. But if you don’t, then that’s okay.”

You melt at the honesty in his expression, shiver at the way his fingertips are toying with the hair on the nape of your neck.

“What exactly does this mean?”, you whisper. It feels impossible to move right now. Like you’re being held in place by his intense eyes.

“Well.” His thumb brushes over your cheekbone and you sigh.

“First of all, I want to kiss those pretty lips of yours. And then”, his fingers travel from your neck down your arms, “I’d like to make you come so hard the only thing you remember is my name.”

A moan tumbles from your lips, and almost on instinct you roll your hips against his crotch. He hisses and grabs your waist. “But I need to know you want that, too.”

You nod, a bit too quick for your liking, but you don’t find it in yourself to care anymore. His hands gently rock you against him and your eyelids flutter, gaze locked onto his. “Use your words, babygirl. I need to hear you.” The condescension shakes you out of your haze.

“Don’t be so fucking patronising.”

A smirk curls around the corners of his lips. “Still need to hear ya, though.”

You lean down as if to kiss him and sink your teeth into his lip, just enough for it to sting, pull, and let go again. He watches you with the intensity of a predator watching his prey and something inside you relishes in it.

“Yes, I want that”, you finally give in, “I want you.”

He pounces with a low sound that comes from deep inside his throat, a growl, almost, and latches onto your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in, kisses open mouthed and messy. His hands keep holding you against him. You roll your hips, both of you moaning in unison, your hands are in his hair, and you pull on his curls until he moans into your mouth, making you smile into the kiss.

He feels it against his lips and pulls away. “Oh, you’re a mean one, hm?”

The smile you give him in return would be angelic, if not for the vicious glint in your eyes. It makes him chuckle lowly, before suddenly standing, pulling you up with him and picking you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around him, and he walks over to the sofa in the corner of the room, lowering you down until your back touches the cushions.

He's kneeling between your legs, propped up with one hand next to you, the other on your cheek again. You tip your head back, baring your throat, and you can see understanding flash in his eyes. His hand slowly moves down until his fingers wrap around you and you feel the slight pressure on your pulse point. Your breath quickens.

It makes you want to rub your thighs against each other, but his legs are in the way, leaving you to squirm under him as he just watches you intently. His other hand travels up your body and pushes your shirt up with it, until he finds your sports bra. His thumb glides over your hard nipple poking through the fabric and it sends a spark of electricity right to your core.

“You wanna play mean? I can do that.”

His fingers close further around your throat and the increasing pressure ever so slowly clouds your mind, until your mouth falls open and you whisper his name.

“Hm?”

You try and move your core against his thighs but you’re too far away, his hand keeping you in place.

“Do something”, you hiss as he just keeps watching you, an amused smile on his face.

“Did you forget your manners, baby?”

You roll your eyes but decide to play along. “Please, do something.”

“But you look so pretty like this.”

Your hands fly up to his arms and you groan, but he just chuckles. “I told you, I can be mean. But I’m starting to get impatient too, don’t worry.”

His hand leaves your throat. All the blood comes shooting back, an intense clarity that leaves you gasping. You only notice that he has taken his shirt off when he leans back down towards you, reaching for the hem of your own t-shirt. He looks up at you, a question in his eyes, that you answer with a quick nod. Then he finally pulls your shirt up, making sure that his fingertips travel over your skin along with it, showering you in goosebumps.

He pulls the fabric off of you and you reach for him, fingers connecting to the smooth skin of his chest. You let your hands run down his stomach when he leans down to kiss you, trailing along the waistband of his sweatpants. His breath hitches when your fingers dip into his boxers, but he reaches down to stop you.

“Nu-uh. You first.”

He sits back on his heels and pulls on your leggings, throwing the piece of clothing behind him absentmindedly. You’re in front of him only in your underwear now, nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric of your sports bra.

“You’re fucking hot, you know that?”, he mumbles, and you feel your cheeks heat up before he grabs the hem of your panties and pulls. Cool air hits your core, and only then do you realise how embarrassingly wet you are already. He looks down at you and curses under his breath.

“Fuck, look at you. Already soaked, and just for me?”

You nod, “only you”, breath hitching as he lazily moves two fingers all the way up your entrance until they are pressing into your clit. You start moving against him on instinct, eyes rolling back as you finally get some relief. He lets you, for a few seconds, before pinning your hips down to the sofa. Your eyes snap open, a desperate whine leaving your lips.

“Hush, baby. I’m gonna take care of you”, he mumbles, before leaning down and licking a broad stripe along the way his fingers just did.

It makes you absolutely lose your mind. Your hips buck up and you moan loudly, hands flying into his hair, just to grab onto something, anything, to keep you grounded. The tip of his tongue dips into your entrance and your head tips back with a groan. His left hand holds you steady, before he dives in again, nose brushing past your clit with every movement. Your thighs tremble, you’re already way too close even though he barely started yet. You feel yourself clench around nothing.

“Channie, please …”, you sigh, and he looks up at you, tongue not leaving your body.

“Hm?”

The sound reverberates against your sensitive skin, and you shudder, looking down at him. Fuck, he looks good. Lower part of his face covered in your slick, curls sticking to his forehead, he laps at you like a starved man.

“Can you – fuck, Channie, fingers, please – “, is all you manage to choke out, but he has mercy on you.

You feel the tip of his finger tease your entrance and you clench in anticipation, before he pushes in and you close your eyes again, a desperate moan leaving your lips. He curls his finger upwards, and you know he’s close, so, so close to where you need him, but he isn’t quite there yet. You can feel the high approaching, can almost reach for it.

“More, please”, you press out, brows furrowed, and he adds a second fingers, curls up, and hits the spot. You swear you see stars for a second. Your mouth falls open, a string of incoherent words tumbling over your lips, and you feel him smile against you. It almost sends you over the edge on its own.

“Found it, hm?”, he mumbles, and you hum, every muscle in your body tensed.

“Look at me”, he whispers.

You somehow manage to lift your head, moaning at the sight before you. He dives down again, holding eye contact and your fingers pull on his hair, coaxing the sweetest moans from him. He curls his fingers up once, twice, and you snap. Your high washes over you with an intensity you’ve never felt before and he flattens his tongue against you, helping you ride out your orgasm with long strokes. Once you finally stop clenching around his fingers, he slowly removes them, making sure not to hurt you. You still wince at the sudden emptiness. Finally, you untangle your fingers from his hair.

He climbs up until he is face to face with you and you blink until he’s in focus again. He smirks at your blissful expression. “D’you have fun?”

You decide to tease him. “Eh.” You shrug. “Was fine, I guess.”

“Fine?” He stares at you in disbelief. “Clenched around me like you were holding on for dear life, but you say it was fine?” You chuckle, but the determination in his face sends shivers down your spine.

“Okay. You know what, I’ve had enough of your attitude.”

He sits up on his heels, before getting up and taking off his sweatpants, pulling his boxers off right with them. He reaches down for his pocket and pulls out a condom, ripping it open with his teeth, and rolling it over his cock, before he kneels back down, slowly pumping himself.

“Let’s see what you say after I’m done with you.”

His lips crash into yours and at the same time, you feel his fingers on your clit. You hiss at the slight overstimulation, but pull him closer by the neck, moaning into his mouth. You can still taste yourself on his tongue and it makes your stomach flutter. Then you feel his tip push against your entrance. He pulls away to check in with you, but you pull him back in.

“Please, Chan, need you”, you pant against his lips, and he groans, before pushing into you.

It's an entirely different sensation from his fingers and both of you moan at the same time, before he bottoms out and stills, fighting for his composure. He begins moving ever so slowly and you appreciate that he wants to be careful, but something inside you wants him to lose control. You lean up and drag your teeth across the shell of his ear, drag your fingernails across his back. He shivers, his arms buckling and his forehead falling onto your shoulder. His pace picks up and you kiss him on his pulse point, before whispering into his ear, “fuck me like you mean it.”

He stills. You let yourself fall back down grab one of his hands, leading him towards your throat. “Please.”

A smirk curls up the corners of his mouth. “I knew you could use your words.”

He pulls out almost completely before he bottoms out again and closes his fingers around your throat. Everything around him becomes hazy, he’s the only thing in your mind, the only thing you see. His hips snap against yours at a relentless pace and you feel the knot in your stomach tighten, instinctively lifting one of your legs. He grabs it and pushes it up against your chest, changing the angle, and finally hits that spot again. Your eyes roll back, moans tumbling from your open mouth as he keeps slamming into you, before slightly adjusting his position. His hand leaves your throat, and your mind refocuses, his thumb pressing against your lips which you open oh so willingly, sucking his thumb into your mouth.

“Fuckin hell”, he groans, rhythm turning sloppy as he watches your lips wrap around his finger. “Such a good fucking girl, hm?”

He pulls his thumb out with a pop and you whine, but he hushes you. “Impatient”, he tsks, before rolling the pad of his thumb over your clit. Fuck, you’re still so goddamn sensitive. His hips snap against yours again and then he hits the spot inside you.

“’M close”, you moan, and he nods.

“Come on, let go for me, baby”, he answers, breathless, and it pushes you over the edge. When you thought your first orgasm was intense, it was nothing against this one. You feel so fucking full of him, he feels so right against you, and then his finger leaves your clit, and he falls towards you, hands on each side of your body, riding out his own high. His arms are shaking from the strain, and you push up to press your lips against his. He moves inside you and you shiver before he gives you one last peck and carefully pulls out.

You fall back against the cushion. He removes the condom, before crawling back up and snuggling against you, propped up on his elbows on each side of your face. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

It makes you blush, and you turn your head to the side, suddenly confronted with what just happened. With whom it just happened. He sees the change in your expression immediately.

“Hey, look at me.”

You obey him and see the softest smile on his face, before he leans down and gently presses a kiss to your lips.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?”

His fingers are playing with your hair, eyes intently fixed on you. You sigh.

“I – don’t know what this means. To you.”

He raises one of his eyebrows, “but you know what it means to you?”

Your heart lurches in your chest and resumes beating at a much quicker pace because yes, you do, and you hate having to admit it. You don’t know if you should admit it.

He kisses you again, longer this time. When your lips separate, there’s this softness in his eyes again. “Tell me what it means to you. Please.”

This is the truly dangerous part. Anyone can have meaningless sex, but it wasn’t meaningless, at least not to you. This is where the consequences come in. This is where you have to admit that you just ruined a perfectly fine friendship. You take a deep breath. You trust him. If anyone would be able to uphold a friendship after this, it would be Chan. So you steel yourself, and look into his eyes again.

“I like you a bit more than I originally planned to”, you whisper, not daring to speak up.

You’re close enough that you can feel his heartbeat. It quickens after he processed what you said, but where you expect him to tense up and leave, he leans down to kiss you again. You’re completely dumbfounded.

He holds your face and you close your eyes, simply enjoying the gentle pressure of his lips against yours. When he breaks the kiss, you steel yourself again. Your breath hitches when you open your eyes, his own swimming with emotion.

“I’m so glad you said that”, he whispers, thumb brushing against your cheek. “Because I do, too. And I was so scared this would be a one-time thing for you. I don’t think I could have lived with that.”

There are tears pricking in the corner of your eyes for the third time tonight, only this time you allow them. He leans his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck and then you stay like this, just breathing each other in. And you feel like your sleepless nights might have just become a bit easier to bear.

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #bang chan #stray kids #skz smut #chan smut #bang chan fluff #chan fluff

2K notes · View notes

jaemmphilia · 10 months

Text

★ 𝘵��𝘶𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴 ★ || b.c

★ summary: yn comes home from work to a pretty jarring surprise from his boyfriend.

★ pairing: bang chan x male!reader, lee know x han, bang chan x lee know

★ warnings and rating: this story will have triggering themes such as cheating, panic attacks, smoking (the reader is a smoker in the process of quitting), and strong language. reader discretion is advised (16+), also the reader isn't a baby-back bitch so he's not gonna forgive chan easily (he's not gonna forgive him at all tbh), mentions of abusive family (reader)

★ word count: 2.1k (2146)

★ binnie's thoughts: i'm so sorry (no i'm not lol)

★ requested?: yes, requested by @arcenass

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO WAY represents bang chan and the other stray kids members as people. this is just a work of fiction, please enjoy.

You had a really shitty day at work. You were only two minutes late, yet your boss decided that two minutes was equal to an entire hour, and he ripped into your ass about it in front of everyone. With slightly teary eyes and your head hung low in embarrassment, you went straight to work. Once it was lunch time, you realized that you left your lunch on the counter at home. You called your boyfriend, Chan, but he never answered. You thought it was a little out of character for him, he always answers your calls. Even if he’s working hard in the studio, he always answers. It was weird because he has the day off today.

You were forced to eat a small bag of chips from the vending machine, paired with a flat soda. The rest of your work day left you hungry, your hands becoming shaky. Your shaky hands led to you messing up the code for the app your team was working on. Your team leader had scolded you, and your boss just so happened to overhear, and he sent you home early.

You’re sitting in your car, your head laid on the steering wheel. Your hand makes its way to the sunglasses holder above you. You press the bottom and pull out a pack of cigarettes and your lighter. You know you shouldn’t do it, but today has been one of the worst in a long time. Just one won’t hurt right? You had been doing such a good job at not giving in to the temptation of smoking, but after so many bad days and degrading words from your boss, you’ve had enough. You started smoking at a young age, your trashy family pressuring you into it. You refused many times, but they promised that they would buy you toys if you did it. Being naive and toy-driven, you did it.

Ever since then, you did anything to get your hands on some cigarettes. You did gross favors for people, not really caring as long as you got the cigs. When you got older, you tried vaping, but ultimately didn’t like it. You favored the hard edge of a cigarette. Chan has been you rock during your quitting journey, making sure you don’t get triggered into wanting a cigarette. He was patient during your withdrawal, his arms wrapped tightly around your shaking frame as he rocked you from side to side.

You scoff and light the cigarette, and you take a long drag. The smoke burns in your throat and lungs, and the taste is awful. But you already feel a little better. Breathing out, you crack your window to tap off the ashes. You toss the cigarette out after smoking half of it. You start your car and make your way home, just wanting to fall into the muscular arms of your boyfriend, Chan. He has the day off, and he has no idea that you were off work early. Maybe you should pick up some food for the two of you. You’re still very hungry, and you could kill for some pizza and spicy wings right about now. You also need to get the bitter taste of cigarettes out of your mouth.

You quickly put in the order while driving (don’t ever do this), and you pick it up before making your way home. You live with Chan in a small house, it has two bedrooms and a library-office space. It has two bathrooms, and a nice sized backyard. You have so many plans for the backyard. You want it to be a comfortable space for family and friends whenever they come over.

You smile as you think about getting a dog with Chan. You get your keys out of your pocket and you unlock the door as you greet your neighbor, Jisung, with a wave. You don’t really know either Jisung nor his partner, Minho, very well, but you do know that they’re nice people. They had brought over some sweets as a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift.

You make your way into the small foyer of the house, kicking off your shoes. You happen to miss the unfamiliar pair of white shoes that sit next to Chan’s old and ratty pair of Converse. You make your way to the kitchen and place the pizza and wings on the counter. You assume Chan is down the hall in the office that he converted to a production studio, because he’s not in the living room watching his favorite cooking show.

You walk down the hall, stopping in front of the door. You don’t knock, simply twisting the knob and pushing the door open. You don’t know why, but you have a sick feeling in your stomach. You blame it on the cigarette, but you quickly realize that it was not the cigarette.

What you see when you walk in makes your entire body freeze, your jaw dropping open. Chan is in his swivel chair, but there’s someone on top of him, his chest bare as he bounces up and down on your boyfriend. The room feels humid, very likely from the two people engaging in such an intimate moment in your house that you help pay bills for. The small room smells musty, the smell of sweat and cologne creeping up your nostrils and making you sick.

You feel your entire world shatter right in front of you, your heart feels like it isn’t beating, and you honestly forget how to breathe. You can’t move, your limbs have lost any kind of mobility as you stare at the scene in front of you.

Chan panics as he realizes he’s been caught. He carefully pushes Minho off of his lap as he pulls on his once discarded boxers. He prepares to spill his desperate apologies as he slips on his shirt. Minho frantically gets dressed and rushes out before things get nasty.

You feel tears falling down your cheeks, and you mentally scold yourself for acting like a baby. I mean, you did just get cheated on, but you’re stronger than that. You begin to glare, your gaze falling on Chan who has his mouth open ready to make excuses.

You stop him before he can even say anything, “How long?” you spit out, your teeth gritted. Chan is taken aback. He’s never heard you sound like this before.

You were normally soft-spoken, not liking to raise your voice in fear of scaring someone. It also had to do with the abuse you grew up with, choosing to stay quiet.

Chan doesn’t have it in him to lie to you. So he simply tells you the truth. “The first day we moved in..” He says quietly, fiddling with the silver rings on his fingers.

Your jaw drops as you start yelling at him. “What the fuck, Chan! We’ve lived here for almost two fucking years!” you shout, your loud voice echoing off the walls.

“Look, baby–” he starts but you cut him off with a sharp “aht!” that makes him snap his mouth shut with wide eyes. He’s losing you and he doesn’t know how to fix this.

“Don’t you “baby” me, Christopher. I don’t want to hear whatever bullshit that plans to come out of your mouth.” You turn on your heels and walk straight to your shared bedroom. You throw open the closet and start pulling out some of your clothes. You hear footsteps behind you and you ignore them, stuffing the clothes into a duffel bag.

“YN, just listen to me! We can fix this! We can fix us!” You hear him say from behind you, his voice loud and desperate. You can’t believe this man has the gall to even speak after he admitted to cheating for nearly two years.

You bark out a bitter laugh at his words. “Fix us? I had no idea there was anything wrong to begin with!” you shout, zipping up the duffel bag and making your way back to the front door.

Chan follows you, and he knows you’re right. There’s nothing wrong with your relationship. He honestly doesn’t know why he’s been cheating. Maybe it’s the thrill of it all and the possibility of getting caught, he doesn’t know.

What he does know though, is that he just lost the most important person in his life because of his stupid, horny actions. He doesn’t have anything to say at this point, and he wishes he did. You’re slipping through his fingers, and he can’t say anything to keep you from falling.

You’re standing at the door, keys in hand, and you’re glaring at him with so much hate. “Do you have anything to say before I walk out and we never talk again?”

“I love you, and I’m sorry.” Chan says, his eyes filling with tears. It breaks your heart, but you refuse to give in to people who hurt you. Not again.

You just laugh and shake your head, your hair swaying with the movement. “I doubt that. You’re sorry that I caught you. And if you loved me, you wouldn’t sleep with the fucking neighbor.” You say, rolling your eyes. Your skin is itching to smoke, but that can wait. “I’ll be back for the rest of my stuff. You better not be here or I might actually kill you.”

And with that, you were gone. Gone from Chan’s life, from the home you both built together. All because he went and cheated.

Once you get into your car, you let out all your frustrations. You screamed so loud, banging your fists on your poor steering wheel. You scream and cry until your throat burns, tears streaming down your cheeks. You were surprised that you held it in for so long, when all you wanted to do was cry.

This moment brings you back to your childhood, when your mother cheated on your father. Her infidelity led him down a path of drinking and drugs. Which also led to him taking his frustrations out on seven year old you.

You shudder as you think back to your dad’s abusive behavior. You are so lost in your head that you don’t notice Jisung knocking on the window of your car. You look up from your steering wheel, turning your head to look at the male standing there. You hate that he has to see you like this, but you feel bad for him because he probably has no idea that his partner is cheating on him.

You roll your window down, noticing the deep frown on his adorable face. “Is everything okay? You look really sad.” He says, taking in your tear-stained cheeks, and distressed form.

You give him a sad smile and nod. “Yeah, I just received some pretty bad news,” you say, and you decide to be a good person and let Jisung know about his partner, “Jisung, can I tell you something?”

“Sure, YN. What is it?” He asks, giving you his full attention.

“You might not believe me, but I think it’s important that you know. I just caught my boyfriend of five years cheating on me in our shared home with your boyfriend, Minho.” You say to him, and you take in his expression. He looks upset, clearly believing every word you say.

Why shouldn’t he believe you? You barely know each other, so why would you pretend to cry and break down in your car for a lie? He had his suspicions about Minho sneaking around, he just didn’t expect it to be with his neighbor.

“It’s okay. I believe you, I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He says, tears gathering in his eyes as he tries to hold it together in front of you.

“Get in, we’re going to a bar and getting wasted together.” You say to him, watching his pretty brown eyes go wide.

“But it's the middle of the day! Isn’t that a little weird?” He asks, but still makes his way over to the passengers side of your car.

“Who cares? We both just got cheated on and we need an outlet. My usual outlet is smoking, but I would rather get drunk.” You explain, pulling out of the driveway of your house, speeding down the street with your newfound friend. Who would have thought that getting cheated on would lead to a new blossoming friendship? You and Jisung certainly did not.

The two of you swore off men for a while and ended up moving in together. You miss Chan, of course, but after a while, all that’s left is resentment for the man. You have Jisung to keep you distracted from any lingering thoughts or temptations to send him a message. You continue to smoke, all the progress you made completely flying out the window. It’s unfortunate, but hey, that’s life.

#kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #male reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan x male reader #bang chan #lee know #han jisung

171 notes · View notes

redstayrosie · 3 months

Text

Links to posts of Stray Kids to read: PART 2

(SUGGESTED READS)

I don't own any of these posts all rights to the creators.

18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!

BENEATH 'KEEP READING' YOU CAN FIND SUGGESTED POSTS OF:

OT8

Wait Your Turn 🔥🥀🌻

BANGCHAN:

Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, comfort, fluff, Dom/Sub dynamics, bondage, edging, spit roasting, bukkake, creampie(s), cum play, slight spit play, dacryphilia, choking, degradation, implied after care. Summary: If you're going to break the rules, then you have to face the consequences of your actions.

Stray Kids reaction 🥀🌻🔥

Telling Skz your ex texted you, each members separate reaction.

MinChan 🔥

LEE KNOW:

Pairing: lee know x bang chan + f!reader wrote this fic back in oct of 2023 and was js letting it rot in my drafts so I finally decided to post it hehe FIRST SKZ FICS

A Mistake I Will Never Regret 🔥🌻🥀

PAIRING: Lee Know x Reader Genre: Friends to lovers, comedy, romantic, college AU. WARNING ⊂✦⊃ This story contains suggestive / nsfw content. Minors please don’t interact, beware of the content you consume online.

need you to [Lee] Know. 🌻

PAIRING: Minho x Reader SUMMARY: minho loves you: to him, it’s as clear as water. Its only after he finds out that you’re starting to doubt it—he needs you to know just how much. CW: slight hurt/comfort if you squint, but it’s just fluffy fluffy lino being really down bad and not knowing how to grasp it tbh which just gives me my serotonin dosis for the rest of the month lol

Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’ ♡ Minho 🌻

Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff Summary: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

Five's company 🔥

Pairing: hwang hyunjin x lee minho x f!reader x lee felix x han jisung summary: it's the first night since that fateful night of truth or dare that you're all together and can blow off some steam. and tonight, it looks like you might be able to finally explore what this could turn into.

MinChan 🔥

Pairing: lee know x bang chan + f!reader wrote this fic back in oct of 2023 and was js letting it rot in my drafts so I finally decided to post it hehe FIRST SKZ FICS

Not Over you 🌻🥀🔥💯

CHANGBIN:

Pairing: Minho x Reader Genre : demon Minho / dad Minho (kind of) / exes to lovers / fluff / smut / slight angst Summary: Minho had it all. He was strong, powerful and beautiful. An immortal that people either loved or feared. Except you. You, a simple human. You who he loved so dearly. And yet, You who had left him heartbroken.

possessive/jealous bin 🔥

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader Warnings: 18+mdni,possessive/jealous bin, unprotected sex and creampie, size kink(not body size), car sex, hair pulling, talk of "claiming" and "owning" fem!reader, reader called bunny and cumbunny, spit, bin slaps readers hand away.

Romance On The Rocks 🔥🌻

HYUNJIN:

Pairing: Idol! Seo Changbin x Female Warnings: Smut. All porn, not plot. Fingering. Soft Dom Binnie. Big Dick Binnie. Multiple Orgasms. Love-making. Slight breeding kink. Slight praise kink. Mentions of choking. Super fluffy. Summary: if there's anything Changbin loves more than fucking you senseless, it's making love ♡

Five's company 🔥

Unfair 🌻🔥

HAN JISUNG:

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader Warnings: fluff, smut, teeny tiny bit of angst (if you squint), hyunjin being a softie and a romantic little shit! Summary: After getting friendzoned, you rant to your best friend, Hyunjin, about how pathetic you are for not getting a date for Valentine’s Day. Hyunjin would never let the girl he secretly loves so much think so little of herself.

Five's company 🔥

FELIX YONGBOK:

Five's company 🔥

SEUNGMIN:

Best friends brother 🌻🔥

JEONGIN I.N:

pairing: seungmin x female reader genre: smutty fluff, university au, rating: M for smut-adjacent (acts have already been committed and our mc thinks about them quite a bit)

43 notes · View notes

skzoologist · 6 months

Note

Your request are open so...Could you write a fic abt like it snowing in October (sadly happened to me) and the boys just complaining abt it and sticking to bae's side, using bae as a human heater, hot chocolate. With tons of fluff and crack (sorry if its not understandable English isn't my native language)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none

genre: fluff and crack (more fluff, this is my fault tbh, i can only write two things: angst or fluff, no inbetween)

a/n: I let out all the fluff from my heart into this, I'm so sorry, but I just love winter and it shows. I hope you're doing fine with the sudden snow, take care of yourself! And as I said, you're completely fine, I understood you perfectly, I just hope I wrote what you imagined. Thank you again for requesting, and feel free to come back any time for more!

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

A soft tune floated through the room, waking Bae from his pleasant slumber. His blind hand quickly found his phone on the nightstand, having always placed the device there, an almost ritualistic act of his. A soft little sigh left his body in protest of the idea of getting up, the blanket warm and snug around his form. It all felt like laying in the middle of a cozy cloud sandwich, warmed by the gentle rays of the sun as they wrapped themselves around his waist.

Wait, the sun wouldn’t make small sounds in its sleep.

Rubbing his eyes open slowly, Bae found the reason why his bed felt like the inside of a furnace itself, the body of his leader laying just beside him. Soft snores left his form, his features peaceful as he was finally asleep, a rare moment in itself from the man who avoided sleep as if it was the plague. Bae couldn’t help the small smile that sneaked itself onto his lips, even though there was an uninvited guest in his own bed.

He let himself lay there for a few more minutes, observing the other, before finally tearing his gaze away and gently getting up, careful not to wake the other. The man was notorious for how light he slept, and Bae would rather be caught dead than be the reason for Chan's awakening. As he slowly slid out of the warm haven, he watched, amused, as hands tried to follow his wake uselessly. It was clear Chan was missing the warmth from his side, a little frown taking the content expression's place on his face. Bae caught himself almost letting out an amused exhale, the sight entirely too controversial as to what the world knew as Stray Kids’ strong leader.

It was adorable, a carefully treasured moment in Bae’s mind. What he didn’t understand though was the reason why his hyung was there, in his room. It rarely ever happened, especially like this, when the tired producer showed up in the bed, overnight, uninvited.

Not wanting to linger too much on that thought and be late from his personal dance practice, he turned around to start getting ready. Yet, his feet stopped in their place, the air prisoned in his chest.

It was snowing.

October merely started a few days ago, the weather normally chilly and nowhere near cold enough to form the pristine flakes that were now gracefully falling from the sky, as if it was all completely natural. The sky was white, a layer of unflavoured cotton candy enveloping the streets below. Before he knew it, Bae was already at his entirely too huge window, his hand sticking out of its opened form. The air lightly bit into his skin, the limb turning cold as it waited there patiently for as long as it needed to.

Pale skin slowly turned red, goosebumps forming here and there when finally, a snowflake landed on his outstretched hand.

Big, sparkling eyes watched the little thing, its intricate design. How the lines branched out and met each other, how they twisted gracefully, until they created something so tiny, yet so breathtaking. Another one landed next to it, a bit bigger, yet its design completely different. It was more round instead of a star shape, as if the sky crocheted a little tablecloth for fairies.

“As much as I know you love snow, please come back in, you’ll catch a cold.” - a raspy voice pleaded with him from behind, strong arms gently tugging him away and closing the window.

Bae didn’t feel that cold until now, his fingers aching, his skin lightly prickling as warmth finally blanketed it once again. A sneeze left his form, quiet and muted, much like the type of person he was. A tissue appeared in his vision, his slightly shaking hands accepting it gratefully.

“Sorry I woke you up.” - Bae quietly muttered once he was done, glancing down at a Chan who was looking entirely too fondly up at him. “Nah, it’s okay. Should’ve woken up soon anyway.”

Bae nodded at that, knowing fully well that the man was too stubborn to say anything else. He went around his room and silently got ready for the day, his form quick and efficient as it glided over the cold floorboards. Once he had the bed made, comfy clothes ready to be worn prepared on top of it, he turned to his quiet leader, head tilted. He still didn’t know why the man decided to raid his room, after all.

“Aish, don’t look at me like that!” - at Chan’s protest, Bae merely tilted his head to the other side.

“Fine, fine! It was already snowing by the time I got back and my bed was just way too cold.”

The leader’s ears were too red, his arms crossed and lips in a pout. Yet Bae merely airily laughed, not at all surprised at the whole thing’s reasoning. Catching a glance of the newly appeared dimples, he turned around, now really needing to go and get ready for his practice. On his way to the bathroom, he bumped into a sleepy Jisung and Changbin, greeting their confused forms as he hurried by.

After a quick shower and his morning routine done, Bae, who was now fully clothed -even with a beanie-, ran into a problem.

That problem being his noisy roommates.

“Nooooo, don’t go, jagi, pleaaaaaase. It’s snowing, it sucks, just stay back!” - Jisung wailed with his doe eyes staring at his victim, arms locked around one of Bae’s. “Aaaaa, don’t goooooo, stay with uuus! It’s too cold for you to leave!” - it was Changbin, the loudest, as he was holding Bae back from behind with all his strength. “Baby don’t goooooooooo. It’ll be too cold without you here.” - even Chan joined them, clinging onto Bae’s other arm.

Of course, Hyunjin was also on the loud trio’s side, his entire weight supported by Bae as he just leaned against his front quietly. The other three shouted enough, he didn’t need to join them to try and win Bae over, the drama llama knew that. It took every fibre of Bae to not just topple over, the pulling and pushing forces on his body almost too much to handle.

He really should have anticipated this all from the moment he saw that it was snowing, his bandmates always turning into even bigger cuddlebugs and whiney babies the moment winter arrived. He could merely sigh, letting the tension leave his body, silently telling the others that he would, in fact, stay back with them. It was a Sunday after all, something they got to spend however they wanted to, as the company forced them to take a break against their will -something Bae clearly didn’t want to oblige to-.

“I’ll call the others over!” - Hyunjin immediately left to grab his phone, energy suddenly radiating from him. “Tell them to bring snacks!” - it was Changbin, his form already in the kitchen to grab their own snacks. “And some fluffy blankets! You know, like the one Felix has!” - Jisung’s voice rang through the entire dorm, his form zooming around the rooms and collecting blankets and pillows. “Just tell them to be careful and to dress up warm!” “Okay old man!”

Chan could only sigh, his head resting against Bae’s shoulder as he now fully stood behind his tallest member, arms encircling petite waist. Bae gently shook his head, not understanding how they could be so clingy just because of a little snow. With his hands over Chan’s, he waddled over to the living room, depositing the protesting male there and pushing everything away to make place in front of the TV.

Not a minute later after he was finished did Jisung appear, arms full of comfy and fluffy blankets, pillows, everything you could imagine. The lil quokka deposited them there, the trio promptly grabbing them and building an enormous pillowfort. They even had some fairy lights installed inside, thanks to Felix who’d suggested it the first time they’d built something like this.

Sometime along Hyunjin joined in, latching onto Bae as if he was the weasel’s personal heater. It made the building a bit harder, but at this point, Bae was used to it, even as Jisung joined Hyunjin and dragged the poor otter to the ground. Jisung only laughed as his lips took on that lovely heart shape, making Bae remain silent as he found no strength to reprimand the boy for what he did.

Soon voices could be heard, the front door opening and the missing half of the band poured in. Felix beelined towards the kitchen along with Minho, bags in both their arms. Changbin greeted them loudly, still busy with making something. The two youngest joined the others in the fort, burrowing their way into Bae’s arms, much to the protest of everyone else.

“What’s with you guys?” - Bae asked incredulously, yet his arms circled around the two to hold them in place. “You run hot, perfect for snuggling. Especially on cold days like these. Even Innie cannot resist it, and that says something.” - Seungmin mumbled out, his face buried into Bae’s neck.

The maknae didn’t say a word, simply let out a content sigh as he snuggled into Bae’s chest on the other side, cold fingers settling onto the poor man’s sides and freezing him in silence. Hyunjin and Jisung grumbled, but let their cute little members stay there, instead settling behind Bae and playing with his hair. Chan merely watched the whole thing happen with fondness in his eyes, choosing to go out to the kitchen instead to help the others.

Good thing too, because everyone came back with their hands full, snacks and steaming mugs in their hands. Bae and the two young ones were forced to sit up as their own mugs were gently passed into their hands, the smell of hot chocolate hitting their faces full force. It was something that Bae loved, being a member of the club of coffee dislikers besides Felix, instead usually opting for sweet drinks. He leaned back against the two boys and the couch behind them, letting himself relax for once.

He watched the chaos he grew fond of fold out before him as he slowly sipped on his hot cocoa, savouring the pleasant burning sensation on his tongue. His eyes followed Changbin chasing Chan around, the latter having stolen a cookie from the dwaekki after their mugs were forgotten on the coffee table pushed to the side. He watched as Felix took the opportunity, taking more food for himself before the chasing duo could notice, a devilish little smirk playing on his lips. He also watched as Minho climbed into their fortress, threatening Hyunjin with some tissues after the boy didn’t want to let the cat take his place. Of course, Minho won, Hyunjin pouting as he sat aside and took a happy little Felix into his arms.

Bae let his head fall back, looking at the resident cat and searching his face. Minho looked back at him, slowly blinking a few times and gently patting his side. It was their own way of communicating, telling the other that everything was fine and nothing bad happened on their way over. No words were needed, they easily understood the other. Bae just blinked back and turned forward, taking back the two youngest under his arms -as much as he could with his mug in his hands-, them having finished drinking it. Jisung snuggled into his back on one side, while Minho just leaned his head against his own.

By the time the other two joined them, their mugs weren't steaming anymore and some members started whining, wanting to already watch the movie. Of course, their first choice was a Ghibli one, with two big fans being in their midst. Howl’s moving castle started playing, everyone quieting down and settling in as snacks were passed around in the dark room, only illuminated by the fairy lights and the TV. The gentle glow and warmth enveloping them quickly put everyone into a fuzzy headspace, dancing on the precipice of sleep and awareness. With every movie they watched the more they leaned over to the side of sleep, eyes staying closed for a few seconds longer with each blink.

It was long past noon when everyone was at last fully asleep, limbs tangled with each other and snacks completely devoured. Bae was at the bottom of the pile, everyone hogging a part of him for at least a little bit of his warmth. Somehow while the movies played, Felix crawled on top of the tall male, selfishly taking the most for himself. Changbin by some strange means ended up hugging one of Bae’s legs, forced to sit near the edge of the fort. Chan was in a similar situation, limbs thrown over both Felix and Bae’s legs. Hyunjin wormed his way back behind Bae, making him, Minho and Jisung huddle there and act as the slumbering otter’s backrest. Seungmin and Jeongin successfully secured their position in Bae’s arms the whole time, peacefully snoring there.

Winter arrived sooner than it should have, and while the members liked to whine about it, it was also one of their favourite season for a certain cuddly reason.

56 notes · View notes

cas-skz · 1 year

Text

Guilty Pleasure

Chan x Fem!reader + Han x Fem!reader

| non-idol au | second part to this fic |

18+!! MDNI plz&thnx

warnings: oral, choking, use of vibrator, unprotected sex, partner sharing, double penetration, anal, creampie

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :]

writers note: tbh every since Chan said he used baby wipes for drool, I’ve been low key teasing him and using them in other ways. Also I gave up at the end cause I’ve been working on this for like a week and I just want to be done lmaooo okkkkkkk I LOVE YOU HAVE THE BEST DAY

cas xx

“How am I sitting?” Chan asked, plopping himself on the floor of your and Han’s bedroom in nothing but his boxers.

“Side to the mirror. I’m gonna sit on your lap and it’s just gonna be our silhouettes.”

You finished setting up the camera, making sure it was connected to your clicker, ready to start taking pictures for your photography class assignment.

You had spent most of the day making a 9 picture collage, editing and adding small details to bring it together. It was just missing a center piece; and that’s where Chan came in.

You sat yourself between his legs, scooting close together so you lined up with the mirror and camera.

“Okay, I think we’re good to go,” You say, throwing the robe you had on behind you.

“Whoa.” Chan whispered, his eyes scanning the lace black babydoll you were wearing, “You look really good in that,”

You glanced down at your outfit, adjusting your boobs a bit. “Thank you. Han got it for me for our anniversary.”

With one swift motion, Chan pulled you onto his lap before looking in the mirror and messing his hair a bit.

You cleared your throat, looking into his eyes for a long moment. “Kiss me.”

He leaned in slowly, cupping your cheek and gently kissing your lips.

After snapping a few pictures of your soft make out, you slowly pull your lips from Chan’s, feeling your cheeks flush deep red.

You were so used to only kissing Han that you’d forgotten what it was like to have a first kiss with someone. The electric feeling that rang through your body, the taste of someone new.

Your panties were already starting to feel wet, and his semi hard erection below didn’t help.

“Kiss me like you want me, Channie.”

Chan locked eyes with you, a small smile pulling at the edge of his lips as he grabbed your jaw, roughly kissing you.

You moaned into the kiss, your hand mindlessly clicking pictures as you focused on controlling yourself.

His lips moved hungrily against yours before travelling down to your neck, where he sucked gently at your skin.

They moved to your breasts next, kissing across them before returning to your lips.

Your mouth parted slightly as his tongue started to fight with yours, your hips rolled against his as his arms held you close.

The sound of the apartment door startled you, “I think we got the shot” You say breathlessly, sliding off his lap.

“Hey, did you guys finish with pictures yet?” Han asked from the kitchen.

You pulled yourself from the ground, quickly turning to grab your robe. “Yea babe, we finishing up.”

Chan let out an audible moan from behind you, “Did you really have to bend over in front of me after that?” He chuckled

Han danced into the room seconds later, a goofy smile taking over his face as he sang. “My baby looks sexy tonight.”

He started to strip his day clothes off, looking down at Chan curiously. “Struggling bro?”

Chan pointed at you, “Blame her.” It was obvious he was trying to handle his erection.

“Yea, she does have that effect doesn’t she.” Han said with a smirk, motioning for you to come to him.

“Take care of him, I’ll be back for you.” Han whispered, kissing your cheek before smacking your butt and heading towards the bathroom.

When you turned around, Chan had made his way to his feet, his hands covering his crotch.

“You know we’ve seen each other naked, right?” You laugh, chewing your lip you walked towards him.

Chan laughed shyly, “Yea, still rude just to have it poking out if we’re not,” he made a little ‘you know’ head motion.

You smiled softly, running your hand over his chest, “but we can.”

He watched as you slowly leaned down, your eyes staying locked with his as you got to your knees.

Your hand pushed his out of the way, revealing his large bulge. “I forgot how big you were.” You say shyly, your hand running up his shaft to the top of his boxers to yank them off.

His cock flung free, almost hitting you in the face. You hummed happily as you grasped it in your hand, bringing it to your lips as you ran your tongue along both sides.

Chan gathered all your hair in his hand, watching as your head started to bob, switching between shallow and deep strokes.

You couldn’t help yourself, letting your hand slide between your legs to rub your clit.

“Get up.” Chan ordered after a few minutes, his eyes now dark with desire.

His hand was around your neck before you fully stood up, pulling you the rest of the way before pressing his lips roughly into yours.

You moaned into the kiss, your fingers gripping at his waist as his hand moved to the back of your head, deepening the kiss even more.

The only sexual encounter you had with Chan was when he walked in on your and Han and Han invited him to join. This was the first time you were both initiating, and it was thrilling.

Chan quickly pulled away, looking down at you hungrily. “Where’s your vibrator?” He asked, turning you around and leaning you over the bed.

“Wh-what?” You asked in a laugh. You had no idea he knew about it.

Chan leaned over your, his cock hot against your ass. “Please, you’re not that quiet and neither is your friend. Where is it?”

You leaned up on your knees and crawled up the bed, pulling a silk bag from behind the top of the mattress.

“You use this when Hannie isn’t here, don’t you?” Chan asked, laying you on your back as he took the massage wand from the bag.

You nodded shyly, watching as he started the wand, “He doesn’t know I have it..”

Chan pushed his tongue in his cheek, huffing a laugh as he played with the settings. “Cute.”

He pressed it against your clothed clit, sending a vibration throughout your body.

You could already feel your release dripping down, cursing a moan as he watched your body react.

“So pretty.” He praised, moving the fabric of your panties to one side. He dipped a finger into your entrance, pumping slowly as he turned up the wand.

Chan lifted himself over you, readjusting so he could kiss you,

Your lips worked lazily against his, your head already fuzzy from the adrenaline running through your veins.

He moved his lips to your neck, slowing the vibrator, “Do you think about me when you play with this?” He whispered, planking a wet kiss just under your ear.

You whined quietly, gripping onto the hand he had supporting himself.

“Tell me.” Chan said, setting the vibrator on your stomach and using his hand to tease your entrance with his cock.

He quickly moved to the edge of the bed, standing up and yanking you down to him. He threw your legs apart, pulling off your panties.

You screamed in pleasure as he pounded his cock into your throbbing entrance, “Do you think about me when you cum?”

Chan leaned back down to you, placing the vibrator back on your clit as he gently kissed your lips. “Cause I think about you.”

You couldn’t hold back a snarky smile, grabbing his chin to keep his eyes on you as you pushed into your climax, “Why do you think I’ve been so loud ever since we fucked?”

You pushed your hips down into him, using his length to ride out your orgasm.

Chan threw the vibrator towards the headboard, his hands gripped your head as he slammed into you.

“Yes Chan - Fuck yes, right there.” You moaned, you body starting to shake under his. You hid your face in the knook of his neck, making an attempt to quiet your screams.

His hips came to a stop, “Shit,” he hissed, pulling away and standing back up as his cock twitched inside you, coating your walls with thick cum.

Your breathing started to calm, “Don’t tell me you waited this long and that’s all you got Channie?” You teased, rolling out from under him.

You pushed off the bed, strutting over to him, your combined releases dripping down your legs. “What a mess you made.”

“Are you going to clean it up?”

He huffed a laugh, grabbing your waist and pulling you close, lifting your leg over his hip. “When I’m done with you.” Chan breathed, thrusting up into you.

Your walls immediately clenched around his length, each stroke making you feel more and more euphoric.

You didn’t even hear Han enter the room. His hands rested on the back of your hips, surprising you. “Why do you always look so good when he fucks you?”

You reached behind to hold onto Han, “That’s cause you can’t see how hot we look fucking. Channie might be giving you a run for you money though.” You teased, waving a finger for him to kiss you.

“Sorry.” Chan laughed, “You want him?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he continued to thrust.

You pouted against Han’s lips, “Why can’t I have both.”

Han squeezed your ass cheek, a dark laugh sending shivers down your spine. “A bucket list item? And it’s not even a special occasion.”

Han’s lips started to work at your neck, biting and sucking at your skin.

“Channie..” you moaned, lifting your other leg from the ground and leaning into Han, “Can Hannie fuck me too?”

Chan looked at Han, who was already lining himself up to penetrate. “Hmm, of course he can. You’re his girl after-all.”

“His girl, and your guilty pleasure?” You smirk, letting out a whine as you felt Han push inside, your holes feeling full.

Both boys moaned as they thrusted, their lips on both sides of your neck and shoulders. Your fingers gripped at whatever they could find, body weak as it vibrated in ecstasy.

You faded in and out of reality, eyes closed as they had their way with you. Finally snapping out of it when Han moved from behind you and you landed on the bed.

A soft whine escaped your lips as Chan climbed back on top of you, his hand gently slapping your face. “You with us pretty girl?”

You smiled and hummed happily, body still shaking. You looked for Han, who was cleaning himself off with a baby wipe before returning to the side of the bed.

“I am,” you giggled, laying on your side and lifting your legs to your chest. “I’m sleepy though, so be quick.”

Han gasped, “The death trap.” He said in a funny voice.

You smacked his arm, “Stop renaming positions.” You laughed, moaning happily as your hand reached for Han’s cock, lazily jerking it.

Chan pushed his cock inside your entrance, tightened by the position you were in. He let out a loud groan, “I think the new name is appropriate.”

Chan didn’t last long after that, finishing in a few thrusts.

“Hold you.” Han laughed, throwing the box of baby wipes at him.

“Anything else you need?” Chan asked, cleaning up the cum spilling from your entrance.

You nodded, “Can you run me a bath?” You asked with puppy dog eyes.

He smiled, leaning up and kissing your forehead. “Of course.”

You turned your attention to Han as Chan left the room, “You, come here.” You smirked waving a finger at him.

Han crawled up on the bed, kissing your lips deeply. “If you leave me for him, make sure I still get some lovin’” he joked

You dramatically gasped, “How dare you think I could ever love another man.” You smiled, pulling him close.

413 notes · View notes

wooahaes · 1 year

Text

cause you’re my flower

pairing: non-idol!seungkwan x gn!reader, ft roommate!dk

word count: 9.3k~

warnings: angst, no happy ending. usage of the hanahaki disease trope + mentions of surgery (& hospitals). heartbreak, depictions of illness (via hanahaki), reader struggles with breathing some. vernon says ‘dude’ but its unclear whether its aimed at reader or toward chan (it can be easily read either way). minimal proofreading, my bad.

daisy’s notes: ok google play flower + fallin’ flower by svt. in my heart theres a sequel of reader n joshua + jeonghan (or just reader and seokmin tbh, both could work) slowly falling in love lol but i doubt anyone wants that fic

It all started with a tickle in the back of your throat in early winter.

In your defense, you’d just thought you were coming down with something. From the corner of a cozy cafe, you waited for Seungkwan with a burning hot cup of tea in a to-go cup between your hands. Maybe you’d make another cup when you went home--black tea, maybe, with honey for your health. Seokmin would probably give you a soup recipe if you asked and help you make it, too (the perks of having a lovely roommate). But that could wait, as you saw Seungkwan walk into the cafe. He spotted you, smiling and waving before he went to order his Americano. He’d asked you to meet him here, and yet you’d arrived before he did. You’d tease him about it later: you always seemed to be the one who showed up to places before he did (out of habit for getting places early, to be fair).

Soon enough, Seungkwan had sat across from you, making small talk while he opened the plastic. You’d been talking about work when you noticed the way he fumbled the straw, the plastic hitting the table.

Was he nervous...?

“Everything okay?” You tilted your head, as if it’d give you a better look at him. His eyes flickered up to meet your own, and you smiled. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

Seungkwan let out a sigh a moment later, annoyed that his nerves had triumphed over his attempt to act casual. “I went out on a date.”

For a second, your smile faltered. “Oh?”

“And it went well,” he said, pushing his straw into his drink. The ice clinked as he picked it up, taking a long sip before setting it back down. “She wants to go out again, but...”

“But?”

He met your gaze again. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

In another life, you’d probably laugh at him. Tease him over being clueless before asking what they’d agreed on. But that damn tickle in the back of your throat made you cough, smile falling as you reached for your drink. Seungkwan, kind as he always was, had immediately moved to push it into your hands. He waited, watching you take a long sip of your tea until your throat felt soothed.

“Are you sick?” He frowned, brows drawing tightly together. “I should have asked before asking you to meet me--”

You waved him off. “I’m fine, Kwannie,” you forced your voice to stay lighter, as if nothing was wrong. “Don’t worry about me.”

Yet he pouted, “Have you been taking your vitamins? It’s cold out. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’ll get sick...”

Again, you dismissed the thought. “I’m fine,” you pushed further. “So... Do you like her?”

His face flushed at the question as he averted his gaze, taking another long sip through his straw instead of answering your question. “She’s... really kind,” he settled on a moment later. “I think she really likes me.”

Who wouldn’t like you? You cast that thought aside. “That’s good,” you kept your tone even. “So... You’re telling me all of this because...?”

“I want to buy her flowers,” he said. “And I want someone to go with me, and Vernon can’t--not that I’d ask him. You know flowers. So...”

Despite that same damn feeling in your throat picking back up, you swallowed hard and nodded. “Of course I’ll go with you,” you said. “You didn’t have to ask me out to coffee to ask that.”

Seungkwan’s face flushed once more. “I...” He knew you had a point. “I just wanted to see you. Is that so wrong?” When you began to cough again, Seungkwan frowned, “I’ll get you some napkins. You should go home and rest,” he stood up. “Seriously...” He huffed, “We’re friends. You should have told me you weren’t feeling well.”

Truthfully, you didn’t know you were coming down with something. You’d been fine up until he asked you to come meet him, and even then it had only been that tiny tickle in the back of your throat. With napkins pushed into your hands, you bid Seungkwan farewell before leaving--but not without him saying he’d text Seokmin and demand that he take care of you. He was your close friend, that’s what friends were for (and Seungkwan could probably recount the times he’d helped Vernon and Chan when they were feeling awful, albeit from a distance with a mask on and a bag of medicine held as far from himself as possible to minimize the risk of getting sick himself). You’d promised him that you’d let him know when you were home safe and sound, because Seungkwan was a worrier when the people he cared about were struggling, and that had been enough for him to finally let you go.

When you came home, Seokmin had been looking through the fridge. “Seungkwan said you’re sick,” he called out without looking up. “I think I have a recipe--”

“Oh my god, it’s not that serious,” you said, slipping into your house slippers. “I might be getting a cold. I’ll make some tea and rest--it won’t be a big deal.”

Seokmin looked up. “Are you sure? I’ll make us soup tonight,” he turned his attention back to the fridge. “I might run to the store--”

You immediately began to sputter and cough again, something in your throat moving upward with each hack. Seokmin immediately rushed over to you, wide-eyed as he hit you between the shoulder blades as you leaned over the sink. Gasping for air, you continued to choke until something finally fell from your mouth: a wet glob of petals, bright yellow standing out against the stainless steel. You stood there, heaving as Seokmin wordlessly rubbed circles into your back as you caught your breath.

Fuck.

Hanahaki Disease. Of all the things your family was saddled with, this was the absolute fucking worst. While not purely related to genetics, there were the rare families that were more prone to the stupid disease. You’d never win the lottery, but you’d win this shit. Your mother had it once when she was a teenager, and so did her father, and her father’s grandmother because not every bitch in your family has been saddled with this shit. You’d hoped that you’d lucked out.

Considering you were sitting on an examination table and the plastic bag of those stupid yellow carnation petals you’d coughed up, clearly you had not. Seokmin had brought you to the doctor, insisting that you have someone out in the waiting room. And since you knew exactly who these feelings were linked to, you refused to bring Seungkwan or Vernon or Chan into this: two of them would spill shit because this was too big to keep secret.

“Surgery is an option,” the doctor said to you. In your pissed state, you almost wanted to snap back that you knew that because of your family history. But she hadn’t done anything to you, and you bit back any bitter comments as she continued to talk about how the procedure was entirely safe.

Your parents, luckily, had already agreed to pay for the procedure before you even brought it up. You’d called them after spitting up the flower, and your mother had said they’d pay for it to save your life. What you hadn’t told them was that you weren’t entirely sure about the procedure at the moment. You’d heard the horror stories both from family and people outside of it. Your mother had woken up and gone back to school a few days later, and she felt... nothing when she saw her former crush. He used to be her friend, and the surgery had been what led to their friendship ending. Your grandpa told you that he hadn’t regret itted in the slightest: the young man he’d been smitten for had moved on, he never saw him again, and he recovered well.

But you? Seungkwan was your friend. One of your close friends. How were you supposed to face him after surgery and feel nothing? At the worst, you might not even remember him since the recovery period differed for plenty of people. Your grandpa had told you that: his grandpa had told him when he was a boy that he forgot her face entirely, and that it was for the best. Better to live without remembering them than die gasping for another breath and choking up flowers. How were you supposed to tell Seungkwan that you couldn’t get close to him again? That this would be it between the two of you because if you stayed around him too much, you held the risk of it coming back?

You couldn’t. The idea of hurting Seungkwan was... hard to swallow. Or maybe that was also the petals you started coughing up again, your doctor quickly pushing a paper towel into your hands.

“Luckily we have medication that’ll help slow the process,” she told you, already jotting something down. “A surgeon will get in touch with you to help you figure out what comes next, alright? I’ll give you a call in a day once we get those x-rays back.”

You mumbled some sort of thanks before gathering your things. Seokmin rose once you re-entered the waiting room post-payment for your visit, and made his way over to you.

“I’m fine,” you said, continuing past him. “Gotta stop by the pharmacy.”

Seokmin’s gaze softened. “Well? What did she say?”

You waited until the two of you were outside. “I guess I’m getting surgery.”

“You guess?! You have to get it,” Seokmin said, “you’ll die if you don’t! You aren’t considering not--”

“I don’t know!” You hugged yourself tight. “I just--I don’t know. How am I supposed to tell Seungkwan I can’t see him anymore?”

Seokmin slowed to a stop, staring at you. “It’s Seungkwan?”

... Fuck, you weren’t supposed to say that. No one was supposed to know. But if you had to pick a person, Seokmin was trustworthy. He wouldn’t tell. Not until later, at least. And if you went through the procedure, you’d at least have someone who could keep him away, if not break the news for you...

Seokmin said your name, pity in his eyes. “You should tell him.”

“I can’t.”

Seokmin reached for your hands, gently curling his fingers around them. “You should,” he pushed further. “I’ll be there with you if you want me to be. But you should tell him. What are you going to do if you don’t? Just stop seeing him?”

Honestly, it didn’t seem like such a bad plan. A dick move, definitely, but cutting him out entirely and letting the news get to him secondhand? He’d never want to see you again after that heartbreak. It’d do the job.

“Don’t,” Seokmin said, knowing the look on your face. “We need to go to the pharmacy, right?”

You nodded, pulling your hands free from his. You started forward, only to feel the telltale feeling in your throat of flower petals again. With a tissue pushed into your hand from Seokmin, you coughed up a few petals before curling your fingers around them tight, hands shaking. Seokmin came back to your side, leaning forward to see that tears were brimming around your eyes.

Your name fell from his lips, and before you knew it, Seokmin had enveloped you in his warm embrace. “It’s okay,” he promised. “I’ll help you. You’re not in this alone.”

At least you had Seokmin. In the end, he’d be all you’d have, and you knew it. But you could manage with just Seokmin for right now.

“Seokmin said you went to the doctor.”

Seungkwan stood a little further from you, happily looking over the different flowers on display. True to your word, you’d come with him after promising that you were fine. The medication was working at temporarily slowing down the disease’s progression (thank you, modern medicine--you only choked up flowers every once in a while now), and you hadn’t felt anything. Maybe a little numbness in your chest, but nothing major. That was a normal side effect, apparently, to help with the whole flowers-growing-in-your-lungs thing. You side-eyed the stupid bouquet of yellow carnations, though.

Seungkwan called your name, and your attention snapped back to him. He’d come over, looking down at the flowers. “These are pretty.”

“You don’t want them,” you pushed past him. “If you’re going to pick carnations, you should pick the red ones. Or the pink ones, if you want.”

He’d stayed right where he was. “I don’t know,” he said. “These are pretty.”

“There’s better yellow flowers,” you said. “If she knows anything about flower language, you’d be telling her a big ole “nope, not interested.””

Seungkwan immediately turned away. “This is why I have you here,” he made his way back to you, already latching himself back onto your arm. “You’re the expert... What do you think? I want to give her something bright and pretty.”

You were far from an expert. You just... looked up flower meanings sometimes. Maybe it came from a morbid curiosity when your mother told you, after your badgering, what flowers she had (purple hyacinth--sorrow, a beg for forgiveness). You had looked up your own: of course loving Seungkwan would give you something pretty and bright like him. At least they were better than the red spider lilies (death) that your grandfather had coughed up.

“Are roses off the table?”

“Aren’t they too serious?” Seungkwan frowned at you. “This is our second date... I don’t want it to look like I’m moving too fast.”

“Then go for tulips,” you said, guiding him over to where a bouquet stood of pink tulips. “The pink ones would work.”

“Are you sure?”

If you didn’t know that Seungkwan was anxious, you would have rolled your eyes. He... really seemed to like this girl. There were legends that said if you could convince him to love you back, the flowers would go away on their own. But if doing that tore him away from someone else he already liked...

“Of course I’m sure,” you smiled at him. “She’ll love them.”

Seungkwan had smiled at you, squeezing your arm. “This is why you’re my best friend,” he said. “Besides Vernon.”

The disclaimer there made you smile. If he didn’t specify, you would have texted Vernon immediately. You turned your attention away from him for a moment, gaze caught on a bouquet of white lilies kept in a case. Seungkwan followed your gaze, his grasp on you easing up. He quietly excused himself to go speak to the florist, and you made up something about needing fresh air.

Standing outside the shop, you watched people trudge past. The paint on the bench was beginning to flake off, pieces of dark green and pale white petals coming off onto your fingers. You dragged your hand along the leg of your jeans, and pulled out your phone. You’d need to take your medicine in another few hours, before you went to bed. Once in the morning, once at night: the nightly dose kept you from waking up with petals in your throat (as well as knocked you out pretty well). It worked. It wouldn’t work forever, not when the disease became worse, but at least you had a little more time before you needed surgery. It gave you time to think about what really mattered now.

“Is something wrong?” Seungkwan had exited the store, bell still jingling as the door shut behind him. He held the bouquet in his arms securely, yet gentle enough to keep from crushing a single flower.

Tell him. You could practically hear Seokmin urging you to do so. “Seungkwan...” You felt your hope dwindle in your chest. Guilt. Don’t ruin this. Leave him with good memories of you. “What would you do if something happened to us?”

He frowned, settling into the spot next to you. “Did the doctor say something?”

“No! No, just...” You frowned. “Theoretically... if we couldn’t be friends anymore... Would you move on?”

Seungkwan watched you with careful eyes, mouth slightly agape as he struggled to answer the question. How would you answer that kind of thing? “You’re scaring me,” he said a moment later. “If something’s wrong--”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you insisted. “It’s just--I dunno, I watched a stupid movie the other day,” you lied, hoping he would buy it. “And I just kept wondering about what would happen if we couldn’t be friends anymore. It’s stupid.”

He let out a sigh of relief, back falling against the bench before he immediately smacked your arm. “You scared me! I thought you were dying!” He huffed, “You shouldn’t talk so seriously about a movie. Seriously...”

“You didn’t answer the question,” you pouted at him. “Would you move on?”

“No,” he said, “because you’re stuck with me forever.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “Uh-huh.”

“You love me,” he laughed, one of his arms slipping through your own. His cheek pressed against your shoulder. “Right?”

... Right.

Seokmin sat behind the wheel, fingers drumming against it as he slightly bobbed his head to the music. He still hadn’t told you where the two of you were going--only that you had to go with him because this was important. Important enough that he was driving to a different part of the city, listening carefully to each instruction from his phone’s map service. He told you that he’d explain when you got there (which was what he told you after he told you he’d explain in the car). Despite your slight demand that he take you out to dinner at a casual place in the area that Mingyu had been raving about, you trusted Seokmin enough to blindly follow him like this.

He pulled the car into a spot, quickly shooting a text to someone before he turned his attention to scrounging up the change to pay for parking. “Okay,” he said. “You said the surgeon called for an exam before setting the date.”

“Uh-huh?”

“And you told me that you were still on the fence about it.”

Stupidly, you had. Although, when you thought about it, it was good that you told someone. Your parents were completely set on it without giving you space to decide: Seokmin at least listened to you.

“I’m going to help you make up your mind,” he said. He pointed up to a higher apartment on the building. “My friends live there. I’ll introduce you when we get there.”

Once he’d paid the meter, Seokmin took your arm and guided you into the building. Soon enough, the two of you were standing in an elevator. You ignored the worried look Seokmin gave you when you coughed up petals into another tissue (this time your own--you’d stolen one of those pocket packs from Seokmin so he wouldn’t have to dote on you so heavily). The elevator whisked the two of you higher and higher before chiming, and Seokmin gestured for you to follow as he looked back at his phone. Wordlessly, you followed him down the hallway until he finally arrived at a door.

Before he could even knock, the door opened. A pretty man stood in the doorway, hair pulled back into the tiniest of ponytails as he warmly greeted Seokmin. Then his gaze met your own, and that warm smile fell a little.

“Is this them?”

Seokmin nodded. He said your name, before turning back to his friend, “this is Jeonghan. We were in a choir together in college.”

Jeonghan stepped out of the way. “I’ll let him know you’re here,” he said. “Just a warning that he doesn’t really remember too much, so... Please don’t stress him out too much.”

The two of you stood in the entryway as Jeonghan left, calling out for someone named Joshua. With a curious glance to Seokmin, you began to pull off your coat to leave behind as Jeonghan returned with another man--equally handsome in looks, with the gentlest eyes you thought you’d ever seen on a person.

“Hi,” he said, voice warm already, “so, uh... You’re the one with Hanahaki?” When you mustered up a nod, he extended a hand to you. “I’m Joshua.”

You introduced yourself in turn, giving Seokmin another weird look. “And... I’m here because...?”

“Hanahaki nearly killed me,” Joshua told you outright. “And Seokmin said you’re considering not getting the surgery. I’m supposed to tell you why it’s a really bad idea before you make up your mind.”

You immediately glared at Seokmin. “I thought you said you wouldn’t force me to change my mind--”

“And he’s not,” Joshua said, gently guiding you forward. “I wasn’t going to get them removed either. But things were... really, really bad. So I just want to tell you what you’re signing yourself up for.”

Jeonghan made a comment about making the two of you some tea, and you followed Joshua out onto the balcony for some privacy. He brushed a hand through his hair, settling into a cozy chair. There was an easel set up in the corner, empty of a canvas but stained with paint. Joshua followed your gaze to it.

“Do you paint?” He asked, and when you shook your head, he smiled. “I don’t, either. It’s Jeonghan’s.”

“And you two are...?”

“Friends,” he clarified easily. “Really close friends. Look... Seokmin told me a little about you. You’re in love with your friend, right?”

It felt weird for a stranger to say it out loud. But you settled into your chair, nodding. “Yeah. His name is Seungkwan,” you said quietly, “and I didn’t mean to fall for him, but I did, and now...”

The conversation died as Jeonghan stepped out, setting two mugs between the two of you. You thanked him, and waited until the balcony door slid shut again before reaching for your own mug.

“And now you’re coughing up petals,” Joshua said, taking his own mug. “I get it. I didn’t think it’d happen to me, either.”

“What happened?”

Joshua opened his mouth to speak, only to wince for a moment. “Shit--” He lifted a hand to his temple, rubbing at it before setting down the mug. You watched the way he went quiet, eyes squeezing shut. “I--I don’t know,” he said. “Jeonghan told me that there was a girl. I fell in love with her, she rejected me, and then I started coughing up flowers.”

You raised a brow. “He told you?”

The pain began to subside, and Joshua opened his eyes again after a moment before nodding. “He told you, right? I don’t remember all of it. Her name, her face... her favorite color.” He stared off for a moment. “Nothing. I’m apparently a rare case, but the doctors said it’s because I let it progress too far.”

“You didn’t see anyone?”

He shook his head. “I told Jeonghan I wasn’t going to. He’ll say I was being dramatic, and maybe I was, but... I didn’t want to lose her. I loved her,” his gaze didn’t meet yours again. “It wasn’t her fault she didn’t love me. Not all cases are fatal, I mean. Jeonghan says I had this stupid hope she’d change her mind because the guy she liked was a dick. My mom kept telling me that I needed to see someone. I think...”

He took a deep breath. And then he slowly exhaled, curling back up in his chair. The thick sweater he wore fell down over his hands, and those pretty pale brown curls were rustled by the cold breeze. But neither of you moved to go back inside.

“I think I was punishing myself. I don’t remember why, or how I came to that conclusion, but it makes sense. I was the one who fell in love with her when it wasn’t going to happen. I was the one who deserved to suffer for it.”

Something about the somber way he spoke shook you. Like he had resigned himself to death there, the heartbreak of a love so powerful not being returned had broken him. Maybe that was why you still weren’t sure about the surgery. It’d be admitting you were stupid enough to fall for someone who never liked you.

“So it got worse,” Joshua continued after a moment, lidded eyes staring down into his tea. “And worse. And then Jeonghan came home one day, and found me collapsed and gasping for air. He called the paramedics, they managed to clear my airway of the blood and flowers, and I was taken in for an emergency procedure to remove the flowers. If he hadn’t come home, I would have died...”

He didn’t need to say more. You understood the feeling well. If Seokmin hadn’t pushed you to see someone, you’d probably be in the same boat. A morbid part of you had to wonder if you’d be the same way: lying on the kitchen floor, cold tiles under your fingers as you gasped for one last breath of air.

“I’m a rare case,” he said, eyes meeting your own again. “Most people who get the procedure done before it progresses too much still retain all their memories. And I know there’s research still being done on whether Hanahaki always returns if you stay around the person, since a lot of people are reluctant to break ties when they’ve fallen in love with their friend. But if I could go back in time... I don’t think I would hesitate.”

“Have you met other people?” The question pushed out of you before you could process it.

He smiled at you warmly. “I’ve met you.” But then he laughed softly, “A few. No one I’ve liked yet, but I have hope. I started seeing a therapist once I was released from the hospital, and she’s helped me with everything. They say it’s really rare for Hanahaki to take hold twice in the same person--something about the antibodies created, I’m not sure.” He set his mug down. “But... I think Seokmin’s worried you’re trying to punish yourself, too. Just because you fell in love with your friend.”

You said nothing, arms curling back around yourself to hug yourself tight.

“It’s not a crime to fall in love with someone,” Joshua said slowly and clearly. “Just like how it’s not a crime he doesn’t love you back. I know you don’t want to cut him out of your life, but you need to do what’s best for you. You’ll love someone else one day. But if you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t live to experience it.”

Not all cases are fatal, you wanted to point out to him again. It goes away in rare cases.

Rare. Just like the disease itself.

He began to reach into his pockets, pulling out his wallet. “The therapist I see is a grief counselor, but she apparently did some major studies in helping people like us recover after the surgery. If you tell me your room number, I’ll send you a bear.” He slid the card across the table to you. “I figured you’d be tired of flowers.”

The thought made you smile. Without a word, you accept the card, pushing it into your own wallet to consider later. “I didn’t say I’d go through with it.”

“I know. Send me your room number. I’ll give you my number when we’re back inside,” he pushed back his chair. “It’s freezing out here.”

You scooted your own chair back, about to stand when Joshua turned back to you.

“When you tell him,” Joshua said, “make sure you tell him that you still treasure him. Okay?”

You stared at him a moment, brows drawing together.

“Jeonghan didn’t get to do the same before his own procedure,” he said quieter. “She was his friend, too."

(It wasn’t until then that you noticed the top few buttons of Jeonghan’s shirt were open, and you could see the faint incision scar up the center of his chest.)

Seungkwan had invited you over to a movie night--just the two of you. With your medicine kicking in, you’d agreed. Saturday night movie nights were a longstanding tradition, sometimes including Vernon if he wasn’t busy (and occasionally Chan, ever since you unbanned him from them (he had bad taste in college)). But tonight would just be the two of you, and you’d had a long day at work, so something about curling up with Seungkwan and watching something stupid seemed more appealing. At least the petals weren’t a huge deal. You could hide them if need be, but they hadn’t been acting up too badly yet. Maybe you coughed them up a bit more, which wasn’t great when you had to answer phone calls at work, but people were usually understanding when you made a quick apology and went straight back into that mask of professionalism. You’d fully be off while you recovered from surgery, taking off a few personal days leading up to it as well, and hopefully be fine to return soon enough. But you kept tissues on your desk and had grown better at coughing up the petals and immediately tossing them away before anyone could see or be bothered by it. Even Seokmin rarely noticed when it was acting up again.

And yet the universe seemed to have the absolute worst fucking timing.

“You didn’t have to say yes,” Seungkwan said from the other end of the couch as he watched you shift uncomfortably, coughing into your elbow while searching for your pack of tissues. “If you aren’t feeling well, you should be resting. I don’t know why you’re even at work right now. Your doctor should have given you the written excuse to get your boss off your back.”

“She did, I just didn’t use it. I’ll take off next week.”

Seungkwan rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the drama on the screen--something he’d been meaning to watch. “I have extra vitamins you can take with you. Remind me and I’ll give them to you before you leave.”

The female lead had begun coughing up flowers dramatically on the screen, and you felt a sense of bitterness at the sight of it. You had seen this one already. She’d die in the end, right before the male lead could confess that he fell for her instead. It was the dramatic tragedy of someone suffering for their love. Talking to Joshua had been enough to push that thought out of your mind: you’d get the procedure done to remove your own flowers. The harder part, and maybe the part people didn’t talk about often, was the way to cut someone out. You’d read articles both for people like you and for people trying to get out of toxic situations in general.

They said that you didn’t owe anyone an explanation. To do it publicly to keep yourself safe. That this was a process you had to go through, too, and that it was okay to dwell... except for the timer you had on your own situation, but you still had a little more time. Some lists even said to block them entirely once everything was over, just to keep them away for good. Other people said to have a real talk with someone, to explain the situation to them in order to ensure your health in the future. Everyone said it was the hardest thing to do to tell someone that you loved them and that them not reciprocating meant you were struggling worse all because of stupid flowers in your lungs, but to make it clear that it wasn’t their fault (although you’d seen people bitter and angry on both sides, some claiming it was guilt-tripping, others claiming that it technically was their fault). There was a mature way to say “I love you, I know you don’t love me back, so we need to end this so that I can live” according to plenty of people. Some people said the distance helped once the conversation was over.

But every time you looked at Seungkwan, you felt an ache in your heart and a deeper one in your lungs.

“Does this ever bother you?” He said, not looking up. He picked up another piece of popcorn. “Seeing it treated like this?”

“It’s dramatic,” you shrugged. “People use illness all the time for stuff.”

“Still...” He sighed. “I can’t imagine what it feels like to be physically hurting like this. Heartbreak is hard enough. But coughing up flowers? Isn’t that worse?”

“It is,” you hummed. “That’s what my family said, at least.”

He sighed. “If this ever happens to you, I’m taking care of you until you recover. I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Kwannie.”

He looked at you, offended. “I would be a great nurse! You know that,” he huffed.

You wanted to respond and say he couldn’t keep that kind of promise to you. But instead you turned over, watching the secondary male lead in a scene with his own love interest and the actual male lead eavesdropping. “What would your girlfriend think, hm?” You settled on teasing him, if nothing else but to shove your own feelings aside. “Taking care of someone else...”

“She knows I love my friends,” he said. And then you felt him smack your leg. “She’s not my girlfriend yet!”

“Yet.”

He looked sheepish at his slip of the tongue. “It feels a little too soon,” he said, turning back away from you. “I’ve known her for a while, but...”

“If you love her, you shouldn’t hesitate.” You curled up into yourself a little. “Life is short. What if something happens? You shouldn’t wait forever to tell someone how much they mean to you.”

“I know that,” he said, casual as could be. “That’s why I tell you all how much I love you.”

You cracked a small smile, almost telling him that he only did that because he was a big softie who loved all his friends (and liked being told in return that he was loved, too). Seungkwan was always the most physically touchy of your friend circle: that was why he was either hanging off of you or Vernon most of the time, more than content to be snuggled up to your arm or hugging you from behind during casual moments. It’s something that’s made both of you be mistaken for Seungkwan’s partner, sure, but you were always able to laugh it off both before and after you developed feelings for him.

(There was one instance of the two of you playing up the dramatics when someone tried to tell you that your boyfriend was cheating on you with the other person. Vernon had mouthed for you to slap him, and you’d stormed off only to meet back up in the car with a incredibly flustered Seungkwan who swore he couldn’t take the two of you anywhere anymore.)

“Yeah,” you said, half-heartedly as realization hit you again that these moments were fleeting. Soon you wouldn’t be able to see him anymore, not for prolonged moments. You couldn’t risk the flowers coming back once they were gone. “Love you, too, Seungkwan.”

Maybe one day you’d tell him just how much before you lost the feeling entirely.

You’d set the date. You’d gone in for the visit your surgeon had requested, which was primarily for them to take a new x-ray to check the progress. In another world, you’d be looking at the flowers on that results sheet and thinking that it was a pretty art project. But the reality of the situation was that the disease had progressed, and you’d be going in on Friday to have them surgically removed. Your parents had already come into the city with a hotel room booked for the week (the downside of your apartment with Seokmin being so small: you sure as hell weren’t going to boot him from his own room despite his offer, and your parents would rather stay somewhere closer to the hospital). You’d had dinner with them yesterday night after your appointment, talking through everything with them. Although your father would never know the feelings your mother described to you, he had been supportive as he could be while she talked you through the procedure for the third time since that first phone call.

Which was why you were now, on Wednesday, waiting for Seungkwan... and Vernon and Chan. Seokmin was sitting next to you, happy to play moral support as you broke the news. You’d figured everything out: you’d tell them about the procedure, and then ask for a day with Seungkwan tomorrow in order to experience something nice before you were stuck in the hospital for your recovery period. Except for the past where you broke the news that you could never see him again, that you loved him, and that you treasured your friendship and would never hold it against him that he didn’t reciprocate. Maybe Vernon and Chan would never speak to you again, too, but that was a fallout for later you.

Except you could see Vernon and Chan walking up to the restaurant without Seungkwan, and you knew for a fact that they would have come together.

“Seungkwan couldn’t make it,” Chan had said as he took his seat. “Didn’t he text you?”

(He did: his sister was in the city for the day and he rarely got to see her, so he apologized and said he’d talk to you tomorrow. You just hadn’t heard your phone go off, or you would have left with Seokmin far earlier and figured out something else.)

Seokmin could see the panic on your face. He said your name, hand grazing your arm as you pushed it away.

“I’m fine,” he said.

He lowered his voice, albeit it was useless considering how close the other two were, “You’re supposed to be taking it easy now. Panicking only makes it worse--”

“Makes what worse?” Chan asked, looking between the two of you. “Wait. Are you dying?”

“No--” You said, and at the worst fucking possible moment, you began to cough. “Shit.”

Seokmin reached for the napkins as you shielded yourself as best as you could, flower petals falling in a thick clump into the white napkin. The petals, while on your medication, were rare. Not gone entirely, and of course they’d pick this moment to act up.

Vernon stared at you, hand groping through the air until it hit Chan’s arm. “Dude.”

You could practically see two bulbs light up above each guy’s head. “Don’t tell Seungkwan.”

“What the fuck do you mean ‘don’t tell Seungkwan’?!” To your surprise, Vernon had raised his voice a little. He immediately lowered it after nodding in apology to the other patrons, “you have Hanahaki! You could die if--”

“My surgery’s on Friday,” you said, “so technically I won’t die.”

“That’s beside the point!” Chan stared at you. “You’re--Why didn’t you tell us sooner?! How long have you known?!”

You said nothing. Seokmin only looked at you.

“A few weeks,” you finally confessed. “But I’m fine and I’m getting them removed, so I’ll be fine. Just... I wanted to tell Seungkwan myself.” I needed to tell him I love him before I don’t remember feeling it anymore.

Vernon knew you, though. Chan might be a little oblivious at times, but Vernon had observed you and Seungkwan enough to know. He tore his eyes away from your own, and you could hear him mumble something about how this was awful timing. The thought made your chest ache.

This was awful timing? For who? For Seungkwan? Sure, you were pretty much dying right now and having to make sure you didn’t choke to death on flowers in your sleep--But, fuck, this was inconvenient timing for Seungkwan apparently. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t have ever developed feelings for him. But Seungkwan was sweet. He was your close friend. He was the one who came over and nursed you back to health a year ago when you had the flu, even if he scolded you for not taking better care of your health.

He’d probably scold you now, too. Seungkwan would have told you off for not telling him sooner, and then he would probably have let you cry in his arms because of how terrified you were underneath everything. The procedure itself was safe: the aftermath could be anything. Meeting Joshua had confirmed that for you. What if you were like him one day? Still living with your roommate, unable to remember the reason behind the scars on your sides (or down the center of your chest--you shivered to imagine what that would mean for you, and you refused to bring that topic up to Jeonghan who clearly would rather not talk about it) without pain? You’d looked it up before: the pain was a psychological thing... or, at least, that was the leading theory. Joshua was rare, people were still researching it in full, but they said it was in the same vein as people who lived through trauma only to not remember a thing because they blocked it all out. A safety measure out of your own control.

(Sometimes you wonder whether Joshua even wanted to remember.)

Hanahaki tore people apart. The fact that you were more prone to it only made you angrier at the world, at the stupid flowers stuck in your lungs. At yourself for being so foolish to fall for Boo Seungkwan when he was only ever going to be your friend.

Vernon’s gaze softened as he watched you, so quiet and acting so much smaller. Like a child, almost: uncertain of what would come next, but with only so much guidance that you could fully understand. The swelling, the stiffness, the different feelings around your incisions. But what about what really came next? The empty feeling when you saw Seungkwan again unless you pulled yourself together to tell him that he couldn’t see you again. Not for long, not without risking yourself. He’d heard the stories and was lucky enough that his own instances of unrequited love were met with plenty of chocolate and nights with his friends, watching movies and giving him a space to feel and breathe and think.

“So what do you want us to do?”

You lifted your gaze from where you’d begun staring down into your lap, meeting Vernon’s eyes. “I...”

“We’re not gonna tell him,” he promised, despite the look Chan gave him. “I mean, that’s your thing, right? It’s your thing to tell, unless you want us to tell.”

You shook your head. “I’ll meet up with him tomorrow,” you said. “And I’ll tell him everything.”

Chan looked between the two of you, realization slowly swallowing him whole. “We’ll come visit,” he said quietly. “Is that okay?”

“It’s not a huge deal,” you shrugged. “I mean. It’s surgery, but they’ll probably keep me in for a few days of observation before I can go home. Just... Don’t send me flowers.”

It’s a weak joke, but it earned a smile from Chan. With that, you decided to shove the conversation aside for a meal with your friends instead. It felt comforting to pretend that everything was okay, as much as you wished Seungkwan was there with you. It’d be nice to hold his hand under the table for a minute, just to know that he cared about you still. That, even after you walk out of his life for good, he’d still care for you in the future.

It wasn’t until you were back in the passenger side of Seokmin’s car that you called Joshua and asked if he was busy. That night, the two of you were sitting in the Hong-Yoon apartment so you could have a cozy night. As much as you wanted to go out for dinner with your parents, you needed to stay away from surgery talk (and, unfortunately for you, that was how your mother calmed herself down: going over the procedure out loud to try and reassure both of you that everything was going to be fine). Joshua had an arm draped around your shoulders, blanketing you in his warmth as the four of you were watching some drama they’d found on Netflix.

Seokmin left to use the bathroom, and Jeonghan shifted over so that he’d be resting against Joshua’s other side. A moment later, he lifted his head, eyes meeting your own. “It’s going to be okay,” he reached out, hand finding your own for a reassuring squeeze. “I recovered well. You’ll be okay.”

Wordlessly, you snuggled further into Joshua’s chest now that you didn’t have Seokmin anchoring you from the other side, still holding Jeonghan’s hand for a moment longer. You shut your eyes for a moment, just listening to the sound of Joshua’s heartbeat. “Which one of you was first?”

Quiet. The sound of the movie felt so distant, a mere mumble of background noise as Jeonghan let out a long sigh.

“He was,” Jeonghan said. “I thought I’d be okay. Then we had to call our friend, Seungcheol, to help us.”

Joshua wrapped an arm around you. “Do you want me to be honest?”

You nodded.

“They still hurt sometimes,” he said. “The incisions. I can barely see them, but they’re still there.”

Suddenly, your stomach turned at the thought. You squeezed your eyes shut a little more. “I’m sorry--I know I brought it up, but can we drop this?”

Neither said anything. You merely curled up closer to the two people who’d been strangers until days ago, yet already felt so safe to be around. They felt like an escape from what you knew would come tomorrow. Even when Seokmin returned, curling up close to this bundle of limbs and shared trauma, you only felt safer.

Seungkwan had asked her to be his girlfriend. You only found out because he’d blasted it on every social media platform he was on, only tagged with the caption ‘day one ❤️‘ alongside a picture of the two of them silhouetted with the sunset in the background. Any other life and it’d be sweet. In this one, you merely felt bitter as you finally sent the text you’d been sitting on all day.

it’s really important. can we meet at the usual spot?

The moment he gave you his confirmation, you left your apartment. The park wasn’t too far from where you lived, although you’d always prefer to take the bus to it instead. With your coat pulled over your hoodie, you made the trek by foot instead. This used to be your picnic spot with Seungkwan, although you could easily see him going on dates there instead. As much as you wanted to be happy for him, the stupid ache in your lungs and the tickle of petals that eternally seemed to be plaguing you (at least it would be until you took your last dose of medicine before surgery--a smaller one than what you usually took to avoid complications, but enough that you’d be able to sleep easily) served as a cruel reminder of what would never be. That this would be the end.

Yet you saw him sitting on that stupid bench the two of you always met at, the glow of a streetlamp bathing him in light and making him look stupidly radiant. Or maybe that was what love could do to a person. The moment he saw you, he stood up, coming to hug you tight.

“Vernon said you’re having surgery tomorrow,” he said once he stepped back, hands holding your own. “Is it true?”

... At this point, you couldn’t be surprised Vernon would at least let that slip. Maybe he’d been debating coming to see you, and Vernon told him outright how important it was.

His fingers tangled with your own as he brought you to the bench, sitting down next to you. “Is it serious?” He paused, and then vaguely gestured toward his mouth and throat, “is it... you know?”

Seungkwan knew of your family history. You’d lamented it to him forever ago, saying that you hoped you’d be lucky enough to be spared by it. When you nodded, his gaze softened tremendously.

“Do they know?”

You don’t, you almost wanted to say. It’s you. I’m sorry. “I don’t know if I want to tell him.”

“Do I know them?”

You shook your head, unable to verbally lie to him.

He stared ahead, visibly upset. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t notice it sooner. I’ve just...”

He’d been falling for someone else more and more with each day. Deep down, you couldn’t blame him for that. If you didn’t know someone was going through it, you’d probably be blissfully doing the same.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you,” he said a moment later. “Are you scared?”

“Terrified.” You tucked your hands into your hoodie pockets, leg bouncing. “I don’t know how I’m going to react.”

Seungkwan was good at faking smiles when things were rough, just to try and instill some confidence into someone who needed it. “You’ll pull through,” he squeezed your knee gently, and he left his hand there. “You’re strong. And... and when you get out, we’ll go out. Just the two of us. I’ll pay for our meal, and you can pick, and... and it’ll be thanks for helping me while you were struggling.”

Something about how genuine he sounded squeezed your heart tight, almost as if it’d pop with just a little more pressure. You looked up, “Seungkwan, I...”

I love you. I know you don’t love me back, and it’s okay. I’m sorry our friendship has to end like this.

And then he smiled at you, a little more genuine than before, just to reassure you. “It’ll be okay,” he said again, clueless to the storm inside of you.

Your words died in your throat. Instead, you just bit back your tears as you dove forward, hugging him tight. “I love you,” you said, a confession you couldn’t make directly to his face. “Thank you for being a good friend.”

His arms wound around you after a moment, squeezing you tight. “You’re not going to die, you know,” he said, laughing just a little. “It’s a safe procedure. I’ll see you when you wake up. Okay?”

Drifting back from him, you lied again, “Yeah. I’ll... I’ll see you then.”

With one truth spilling from your lips about going home and getting proper rest, the two of you parted ways. Despite the fact it only served to make your lungs ache worse, you jogged the way home. The sooner you were inside, the better. With the door shut and secured behind you, you let out a long sigh and then a groan of frustration at backing out yet again. You’d been pulling your jacket off when you heard Seokmin call out your name.

“Did you tell him?”

You sniffled hard, already feeling those tears welling back up. He opened his arms to you, and you almost tripped over yourself rushing to him as you broke down crying.

“I-I couldn’t,” you said between sobs.

And Seokmin could do nothing else but hold you tight, head resting against your own as he sheltered you through your storm.

Everything felt fuzzy.

The anesthesia hadn’t fully worn off by the time you were a little more awake. You’d answered their questions as best as you could while your head still felt full of clouds, but the procedure had been a success. The flowers were gone to good, likely going to get tossed out with the other waste and burned. Your mother recognized how completely out of it you still were, but you could see the relief on her face that you were okay. It took the sound of your dad gently coaxing her for her to agree to come back when you were far more lucid and well-rested.

At some point, Seokmin came in to see you. You barely remembered the encounter, but you stared at the teddy bear that sat nearby with a card being held between its plush paws (thanks to Seokmin’s efforts). It wasn’t from him, you’d later discover, but from Joshua and Jeonghan wishing you well (and making promises to see you again once you were discharged, maybe while you were recovering if they could make it during visiting hours).

Three days into your stay, you were fully aware and alert... and also recognizing the annoying tinge of pain that came from your incisions every single time you moved or even breathed. You could breathe clearer now, sure, but the ache was annoying nonetheless. Your doctor had been kind to you, understanding how tiring it could be to recover from the procedure. Your nurse, a tall kind man named Wonwoo, had taken your vitals. So when you heard a knock on your door, you were sure it was either whatever breakfast you were getting (you barely remembered your own order now), or your parents.

And after you called out for whoever it was to come in, you were met with Vernon’s face. He stopped where he stood, staring at you for a moment before apologizing and saying he wasn’t sure what to do. Chan was with him, too, hugging a big teddy bear that was clutching a ‘get well soon’ heart.

“You said not to send you flowers,” Chan said as he made his way over to you, and you accepted the stuffed animal with a thanks. “It was my idea.”

“Our idea,” Vernon rolled his eyes. Then he stopped, looking at the open door. “You wanted to see them. They’re awake.”

The guy that Vernon had been talking to walked into the room, pushing the door shut with an apology for hesitating. He started rambling about how he didn’t know whether you’d want so many people crowding you at once, sitting down at the edge of your bed as he started asking how you were doing. Were the flowers gone? Was the staff taking care of you? If you needed someone to speak on your behalf while your parents were gone, he would happily do it for you.

Vernon noticed the confused look on your face as this guy--friendly as he might be--kept talking to you. You’d answered his questions, sure, but you could see the way this stranger’s heart was visibly breaking in his eyes. His smile fell, and Vernon nudged him out of the way so that he could sit and talk to you for a few minutes.

“Is there anything we can do for you? I mean, we were gonna pool together for one of those edible arrangements, but I wasn’t sure if your doctor was gonna restrict any of it...”

Chan had apologized, saying he needed a cup of coffee--it was too early for him--and he left with the other guy.

Vernon pushed himself back into your field of vision, and you felt yourself flounder a little for words. “No restrictions,” you said, brain still catching up as you had questions. “Sorry, Vernon, do I know him--”

He shook his head. “Nope. Just, uh... Rest up,” he patted your thigh. “I’ll see you when you get out, yeah?”

When he stepped back into the hallway, it was to the sound of Seungkwan sobbing. Chan had already gone to him, holding him and waving off any concerned staff that had probably seen this kind of thing before.

One of his best friends didn’t recognize him at all. He knew that that meant when it came to Hanahaki.

Chan had patted his back gently. “It’s not your fault you moved on,” he said quietly. “You didn’t know. None of us knew they liked you back--”

Vernon could feel his heart sink in his chest as he made his way over. His own future with you (as well as Chan’s) was in the air--both knowing the weight of keeping you in their lives could lead to future pain for both you and Seungkwan. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I told you--”

But Seungkwan shook his head, the weight of his own decisions beginning to suffocate him. “You were right,” he started to walk away, his heart breaking all over again. “I shouldn’t have come.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @synthetickitsune @wonuziex

#wooahaes.fic #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #seventeen angst #seungkwan angst #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x you #boo seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x you

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ofmermaidstories · 3 months

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No pressure or pushing for this, I promise! But out of curiosity, would you ever want to do a Katsuki/Reader/Izuku piece in the future?

there’s no pressure, i promise. 🥺 i like when you guys ask me things, especially about hypotheticals/future ideas!!! it’s fun. 😌 ummm but lemme think. i like taking a never say never approach to writing projects (and to most things in life tbh), because all of my current fics and WIPs started off as random fancies that i then just decided to start taking seriously. 🥹 so there’s always a chance!!! it just depends on if i ever get a compelling enough idea for it!!! although the only other problem is that it wouldn’t be like—a smut one-shot. 🥺 if i did it it’d be like… idk, a chaptered fic bc i hate myself. 😔🔫 i like build up. 🥹 and i think it’d be fun, with Izuku and Katsuki in particular, to watch the lead-in. they’re so…….. stupid. 🥹 i can’t imagine much changes as they get older. izuku would be the earnest one who makes everyone fall in love with him and kacchan would be his flinty-eyed shadow that inexplicably has a fanclub of teenage girls. and the thing is, they work perfectly fine when they split off and combine with the others—hell, maybe they even spent years apart, after UA, izuku in america and bakugou idk hanging back in japan. they don’t need to be together 24/7 and often aren’t, but i do think there would be a knee-jerk fear/response they would have for each other. 🥹🫶🏽 and idk how we’d shove Reader-chan into that. 🧐 would have to think.

(maybe………. we could pair it up with one of my favourite songs. there’s a repeating lyric—if it weren’t for second chances we’d all be alone—so maybe we could hmmm 🧐 have our Reader-chan just think they’re never going to bother with love again or something bc BOOO boys grosss hisss boo boo. and then like sunlight warming up a spot on our kitchen floor—we meet dookie and bookie and it all goes downhill from there LOL)

#ofmermaidstories-asks #i mean realistically tho who’d wanna date two pro heroes 💀#two POPULAR very POWERFUL pro heroes who are probably at the top of the list of every villain in the country 💀#stressful 💀 DISLIKE 💀

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chocotonez · 1 year

Text

skz + accidentally breaking s/o’s important item

a/n this is for @kimnari23 !! thanks so much for requesting, feel free to ask me to rewrite it if you don’t like it :) (reposted due to some formatting errors)

warnings/genre: more fluff than angst tbh, crying, somewhat of a crack fic but it’s just my humor sorry, swearing, small arguments/banter, g/n reader but mentions of reader owning makeup and jewelry, tell me if anything else should be tagged!

chan

-kinda sees his life flash before his eyes as soon as your favorite mug hit the tiled floor

-he doesn’t want to buy a replacement because that ruins the whole sentimental value and the reason you loved that mug so much, but he doesn’t want you to be upset, and-

-the door swung open and you found chan just blankly staring at the shattered mug, before looking up at you and quickly hugging you

-“I’m so so so sorry”

-profusely apologizing and asks what he can do to make it better, is super patient and lets you sulk as much as you want

-buys you a bunch of gifts to apologize but he always reminds you that he knows how much that mug meant to you

-he doesn’t want to see you upset especially towards him, so he does a ton to try and make up for it

lee know

-he ruined your favorite dress shirt by washing it with a bunch of other clothes

-your dress shirt was now tinted a weird brownish purple from another one of your clothing articles, and the second it came out of the wash he didn’t even realize it was that shirt you loved and folded it as usual, placing it in your dresser

-“minho!!” “what?” “my shirt!”

-immediately feels extremely bad, doesn’t know if he should lie and be like “omg how did that happen” or if he should fess up right now as you sigh and huff over your shirt being ruined

-he’ll tell you at some point but he’s very scared you’ll just never forgive him so he buys like 20 of the same shirt to make sure if he makes a mistake you’ll have a back up!!

-tries to lighten your sour mood as much as possible, not so you’ll stop being upset but just so you’ll stop being upset at him

-“I mean the color isn’t even that ugly, you always pull off anything anyways-“ “don’t even rn”

changbin

-he was just walking when he stepped on something and immediately let out a string of swearing before he saw that he stepped on one of your favorite bracelets, and it was now broken

-probably goes full mechanical engineer and tries to figure out how to fix it but it doesn’t work and he’s crying and you come home to him covered in glue and tape with a broken bracelet in his hands

-apologizing a ton and trying to explain that it wasn’t at all intentional, yada yada

-it’s almost comical how he was just as upset as you were over the broken bracelet, but once you get over the initial disappointment he gives you any space or support you need

-makes you a new bracelet using youtube and patience he didn’t know he had

-as long as you’re happy <333 he’s happy <333

-puts the broken bracelet up somewhere as a decoration, so you don’t have to throw it away and you can still technically use it-just as decoration

-“I mean it looks good with that vase, don’t you think? Kidding, you know I’m sorry!”

hyunjin

-probably makes this 😐 face when he sees that he knocked over his drink onto your favorite book

-the book was special because of how much love and annotating you poured into it, the lovingly marked pages and the amount of notes combated the text of the book itself, pressed flowers in the cover and little notes from friends, the book wasn’t even about the content, just the memories

-and now it was stained with coffee and melted ice

-yknow that one scene from the incredibles?? where the dad dries a book w a hair blower?? he tries that but starts a small fire and immediately goes to air drying

-“I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do to fix this?”, does his best to communicate a solution with you because he feels so guilty lmao

-really appreciates if you’re patient/understanding, but he also gets it if you get upset or have a bit of an outburst

-would probably transcribe all of your favorite notes, pages, save the pressed flowers and your favorite bookmark, he would do his best to preserve what was left of the soggy pages

-tbh this one isn’t too bad, so maybe u two reach a point where you fixed the book back to a satisfactory point! :)

han

-“shitshitshitshitshit” -his mind, realizing he’s practically chewed off a whole part of your lucky pen

-he asked to borrow one, and since you love ur boyfie sm you gave him your lucky pen so he could annotate lyrics or notes for a song he was producing, and then he got too lost in thought and then he started chewing on your pen as a habit and-

-very forward about it but also very scared you’ll hate him forever tbh, but he still jokes about it?? he’s strange like that tbh

-“uhm. well I personalized it for you??” “huh-yOU ATE MY PEN?”

-comforts you a ton and gives you lots of hugs and kisses to make up for it, even holds a little pseudo funeral for the pen so you can mourn

-honestly makes the whole ordeal a lot of fun, even though you were obviously upset

-took you stationary shopping as an apology gift and let you pick out any pretty pen you wanted, and promised he would just use those cheap ballpoint ones from now on

felix

-shocked pikachu face when he accidentally broke the charm off one of your earrings

-it wasn’t even fixable as the piece on the earring that held the charm broke off too, so even if he did piece it back together it would be uneven and clunky compared to the other one

-facetimes you immediately to explain what happened or tells you immediately so you don’t have to find out yourself, he feels it’s better for you to know straight up

-probably sulks away for a hot minute cuz he’s teary eyed but he doesn’t want you to comfort him, you need to cry too

-once you calm yourself down and reassure the both of you that it’s okay and that it’s just an earring, it’s not shattered or rusted, and it’s okay!

-lots of hugs, maybe he even helps you repurpose the earring into something else, putting the charm on the bracelet or smth like that

-probably ends up surprising you w another pair of earrings you’ve been eyeing

seungmin

-brb googling breakable items that hold sentimental value I’m running out of ideas

-anyways he accidentally dropped an eyeshadow palette you adored, a gift from a loved one and he watched all the pigment spill out

-you know those tik toks of ladies who fix makeup really well with all those fancy tools?? tries to do that but ends up messing it up further and is just like “well fuck”

-buys you another one in advance, he knows it’s not the same as the eyeshadow palette was important cuz of the sentimental value, but at least you’ll still have the colors

-“I’m really sorry about this, it wasn’t intentional, promise.”, probably the most nonchalant about this?? not that he doesn’t care, but I gave him a bit of a superficial item and he also just finds it as a problem with an easy solution

-but don’t get me wrong he definitely listens and hears you out if you’re seriously upset, gives you a lot of support even if he doesn’t really understand why you’re that upset

-but he’ll never ever make you feel bad for feeling <3

jeongin

-I’m totally running out of ideas for breakable things that would hold sentimental value so I’m just gonna say he accidentally threw away a photo you really loved

-it was you and your loved ones, taken at a restaurant on a polaroid camera celebrating your birthday, it was your fave pic ever and you carried it ever

-but you got a new wallet and left a lot of crumpled receipts and miscellaneous stuff out and he just wanted to help you clean :((

-and by unlucky coincidence you only discovered it was missing after trash day, and you were turning the apartment upside down to try and find your favorite Polaroid, only for jeongin to remember a polaroid in the pile of trash

-immediately panicking and questioning his entire life decisions

-“uhm…I think I threw it away I’m gonna be so fr w you babe”, and there’s literally nothing he can do about it so he’s honestly so devastated because he just hates seeing you upset

-I think he’s a bit pushy about it and wants to fix the problem as soon as possible, he obvs understands the emotional value but seeing ou sad breaks his heart

-for ur next birthday he makes sure to replicate the photo on a Polaroid camera for new memories tho :,)

-lots of cuddling and apologies, he’s probably just as upset as you in this situation and is hard on himself for missing something so important

-you both r comforted in knowing you can just make new memoriesmemories :)

-for your next birthday he replicates the photo for your new wallet tho :)

#stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids blurbs #stray kids fluff #stray kids headcanons

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 1 year

Text

every single book I read in 2022. all 129 of them.

jesus christ

let's start with the best of the best; everything else will get listed beneath the read more because I'm not an animal. even just picking out my favorites is honestly probably going to get pretty lengthy, even though I'm trying to keep the synopses short.

batmanisagatewaydrug's noteworthy books of 2022

Complaint! (Sara Ahmed, 2021) - necessary for anyone doing diversity work in higher education, tbh

America is Not the Heart (Elaine Castillo, 2018) - achingly gorgeous novel of heartbreak and healing.

The School for Good Mothers (Jessamine Chan, 2022) - honestly? I feel very good calling this my favorite book of the entire year. sensitive, smart, chilling.

Black Feminist Thought (Patricia Hill Collins, 1990) - truly ashamed to say I didn't read this sooner. Collins' clear-eyed analysis remains crazily spot-on 30+ years later.

Hurts So Good: The Science and Pleasure of Pain on Purpose (Leigh Cowart, 2021) - I read this book so early in 2022 and literally have not stopped thinking about it since.

Batman: King Tut's Tomb (Nunzio DeFillippis, Christina Weir, José Luis García-López, and Kevin Nowlan, 2009) - dare I say the most fun I had with a comic all year.

You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty (Akwaeke Emezi, 2022) - a romance unlike any other. queer, fun, sexy, bold as hell, and joyfully life-affirming.

The Dangers of Smoking in Bed (Mariana Enríquez, trans. Megan McDowell, 2021) - DELICIOUSLY creepy short stories that will lurk in your brain forever.

Lesser Known Monsters of the 21st Century (Kim Fu, 2022) - if a more perfect short story collection exists I am yet to find it.

The World We Make (N.K. Jemisin, 2022) - I normally hesitate to include sequels on a list like this, but god DAMN Jemisin is the queen of modern spec fic for a reason.

We Do This 'Til We Free Us: Abolitionist Organizing and Transforming Justice (Mariame Kaba, edited by Tamara K. Nopper, 2021) - excellent collection of Kaba's abolitionist writings, drawing on years of organizing experience and wisdom.

Jade City (Fonda Lee, 2017) - look out! new favorite doorstopper fantasy series alert!

Priestdaddy (Patricia Lockwood, 2017) - about the best damn memoir I've ever read. heartbreaking and hysterical in turns, poetry the whole way through.

Batman: The Long Halloween and Batman: Dark Victory (Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, 1996 and 1999) - it's always so exciting when something much-hyped lives up to the hype in every way. Batman at his grim and moody Batmaniest with a Gotham that’s deliciously bleak.

Station Eleven (Emily St. John Mandel, 2014) - I didn't think I'd like this book much at all, then ended up proposing on the second date. oops!

I'm Glad My Mom Died (Jennette McCurdy, 2022) - you will also be glad McCurdy's mom died, and also experience every other known human emotion along the way.

Kaikeyi (Vaishnavi Patel, 2022) - SPLENDID mythology retelling + political fantasy.

My Body (Emily Ratajkowski, 2022) - haunting haunting haunting personal essays about Ratajkowski's life as a model and subsequent alienation from her own body.

Batman: Bruce Wayne, Murderer? (Greg Rucka et al, 2002) - genuinely what can I say I'm a messy bitch and I love when the Bats are having a terrible time.

The Batman Adventures Vol. 2 #1-17 (created by Dan Slott, Ty Templeton, Rick Burchett, Terry Beatty, and Bruce Timm, 2003) - a continuation of the Batman: The Animated Series universe that frankly just fucking rules.

Little Rabbit (Alyssa Songsiridej, 2022) - a potent and erotic adult coming of age story.

The Right to Sex: Feminism in the Twenty-First Century (Amia Srinivasan, 2021) - thorny, difficult, vital essays.

Fearing the Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia (Sabrina Strings, 2019) - jaw-droppingly thorough research into the role of fatpobia played and plays in the project of race-making.

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous (Ocean Vuong, 2019) - yeah so it turns out no one was REMOTELY exaggerating. Vuong really is That Good.

Hench (Natalie Zina Walschots, 2020) - wild fun with a ruthless protagonist and her sex villainous beetle man boss; what more could you ask for?

Love Your Asian Body: AIDS Activism in Los Angeles (Eric C. Wat, 2021) - learning about queer history makes me feel like I’m holding something so vibrant and fragile and precious right in my little queer hand. this book is an emotional journey in such a shining way.

Never Have I Ever (Isabel Yap, 2021) - EXCITING short story collection centered on girls having Just The Weirdest Time.

and everybody else:

fiction:

Light From Uncommon Stars (Ryka Aoki, 2021)

Our Wives Under the Sea (Julia Armfield, 2022)

A Tiny Upward Shove (Melissa Chadburn, 2022)

A Prayer for the Crown-Shy (Becky Chambers, 2022)

Disorientation (Elaine Hsieh Chou, 2022)

The Laws of the Skies (Grégoire Courtois, trans. Rhonda Mullins, 2019)

The Monster Baru Cormorant (Seth Dickinson, 2018)

The Tyrant Baru Cormorant (Seth Dickinson, 2020)

Greenland (David Santos Donaldson, 2022)

Dead Collections (Isaac Fellman, 2022)

The Halloween Moon (Joseph Fink, 2021)

A Dowry of Blood (S.T. Gibson)

Nightmare Alley (William Lindsay Gresham, 1946)

The Vegetarian (Han Kang, trans. Deborah Smith, 2015)

The Metamorphosis (Franz Kafka, trans. William Aaltonen, 1915)

Before the Coffee Gets Cold (Toshikazu Kawaguchi, trans. Geoffrey Trousselot, 2019)

Woman, Eating (Claire Kohda, 2022)

Long Division (Kiese Laymon, 2014)

Jade War (Fonda Lee, 2019)

No One is Talking About This (Patricia Lockwood, 2021)

Portrait of a Thief (Grace D. Li, 2022)

Elatsoe (Darcie Little Badger, 2020)

A Snake Falls to Earth (Darcie Little Badger, 2021)

Glitterati (Oliver K. Longmead)

Gideon the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir, 2019)

Harrow the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir, 2020)

Nona the Ninth (Tamsyn Muir, 2022)

The Memory Police (Yoko Ogawa, trans. Stephen Snyder, 2019)

Even Though I Knew the End (C.L. Polk, 2022)

100 Boyfriends (Brontez Purnell, 2021)

Flowers for the Sea (Zin E. Rocklyn, 2021)

Any Way the Wind Blows (Rainbow Rowell, 2021)

Interview with the Vampire (Anne Rice, 1976)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (Benjamin Alire Sáenz, 2012)

Aristotle and Dante Dive Into the Waters of the World (Benjamin Alire Sáenz, 2022)

Into the Riverlands (Nghi Vo, 2022)

Siren Queen (Nghi Vo, 2022)

Strange Beasts of China (Yan Ge, trans. Jeremy Tiang, 2020)

short story collections:

The Memory Librarian: And Other Stories of Dirty Computer (Janelle Monáe, Yohanco Delgado, Eva L. Ewing, Alaya Dawn Johnson, Danny Lore, and Sheree Renée Thomas, 2022)

Walking on Cowrie Shells (Nana Nkweti, 2021)

Terminal Boredom (Izumi Suzuki, trans. Polly Barton, Sam Bett, David Boyd, Daniel Joseph, Aiko Masubuchi, and Helen O’Horan, 2021)

nonfiction:

Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (Judith Butler, 1990)

How to Read Now (Elaine Castillo, 2022)

Playing the Whore: The Work of Sex Work (Melissa Gira Grant, 2014)

What We Don't Talk About When We Talk About Fat (Aubrey Gordon, 2020)

White Tears/Brown Scars: How White Feminism Betrays Women of Color (Ruby Hamad, 2020)

Belly of the Beast: The Politics of Anti-Fatness as Anti-Blackness (Da'Shaun L. Harrison, 2021)

Some of My Best Friends: Essays on Lip Service (Tajja Isen, 2022)

One Day We'll All Be Dead and None of This Will Matter (Scaachi Koul, 2017)

How to Slowly Kill Yourself and Others in America (Revised Edition) (Kiese Laymon, 2020)

Sister Outsider (Audre Lorde, 1984)

Conversations with People Who Hate Me: 12 Lessons I Learned from Talking to Internet Strangers (Dylan Marron, 2022)

Cultish: The Language of Fanaticism (Amanda Montell, 2021)

World of Wonders: In Praise of Fireflies, Whale Sharks, and Other Astonishments (Aimee Nezhukumatathil)

Histories of the Transgender Child (Jules Gill-Peterson, published as Julian Gill-Peterson, 2018)

Yoke: My Yoga of Self-Acceptance (Jessamyn Stanley, 2021)

A Queer History of Fashion: From the Closet to the Catwalk (edited by Valerie Steele, 2013)

Transgender History: The Roots of Today's Revolution (Revised Edition) (Susan Stryker, 2008)

The End of Policing (Alex S. Vitale, 2017)

The Trouble With Normal: Sex, Politics, and the Ethics of Queer Life (Michael Warner, 1999)

Read My Lips: Sexual Subversions and the End of Gender (Riki Wilchins, published as Riki Anne Wilchins, 1997)

poetry:

Short Talks (Anne Carson, 1992)

Content Warning: Everything (Akwaeke Emezi, 2022)

Prelude to Bruise (Saeed Jones, 2014)

Alive at the End of the World (Saeed Jones, 2022)

Bright Dead Things (Ada Limón, 2015)

Motherland Fatherland Homelandsexuals (Patricia Lockwood, 2014)

Nature Poem (Tommy Pico, 2017)

Night Sky with Exit Wounds (Ocean Vuong, 2016)

Time Is a Mother (Ocean Vuong, 2022)

comics:

Batman: One Bad Day - Mr. Freeze (Gerry Duggan, Matteo Scalera, and Dave Stewart, 2022)

Spandex - Fast and Hard (Martin Eden, 2012)

Harley Quinn: The Animated Series: The Eat. Bang! Kill. Tour (Tee Franklin, Max Sarin, and Marissa Louise, 2022)

Batman: Whatever Happened to the Caped Crusader? (Neil Gaiman and Andy Kubert, 2009)

The Sandman: Preludes & Nocturnes (Neil Gaiman, Sam Keith, Mike Dringenberg, and Malcom Jones III, 1988)

The Sandman: In the Doll's House (Neil Gaiman, Michael Zulli, Mike Dringenberg, Chris Bachalo, Malcolm Jones III, and Steve Parkhouse, 1989)

The Sandman: Dream Country (Neil Gaiman, Kelley Jones, Malcolm Jones III, Colleen Doran, and Charles Vess, 1991)

The Sandman: Season of Mists (Neil Gaiman, Kelley Jones, Malcom Jones III, Mike Dringenberg, Matt Wagner, P. Craig Russell, George Pratt, and Dick Giordano, 1992)

The Sandman: A Game of You (Neil Gaiman, Shawn McManus, Colleen Doran, Bryan Talbot, Stan Woch, and George Pratt, 1993)

Run, Riddler, Run (Gerard Jones and Mark Badger, 1992)

Catwoman: When in Rome (Jeph Loeb and Tim Sale, 2005)

Batman: Year One (Frank Miller and David Mazzicchello, 1986)

Batman: One Bad Day - Penguin (John Ridley, Giuseppe Camuncoli, Cam Smith, and Arif Prianto, 2022)

Batman: Bruce Wayne - Fugitive (Greg Rucka et al, 2002)

Batman: One Bad Day - Two-Face (Mariko Tamaki, Jaiver Fernandez, and Jordie Bellaire, 2022)

Batman & Robin Eternal Vol 1 & Vol 2 (James Tynion IV and Scott Snyder, 2015 and 2016)

Batman: Their Dark Designs (James Tynion IV, Guillem March, and Tomeu Morey, 2020)

The Joker War Saga (James Tynion IV and Jorge Jiménez, 2021)

Papergirls Vol. 1-6 (Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang, 2016-2019)

Real Hero Shit (Kendra Wells, 2022)

Poison Ivy #1-6 (G. Willow Wilson and Marcio Takara, 2022)

and some gaming guides!

Monster of the Week (Michael Sands, 2012) - great game. so cool. cannot wait to actually play it someday.

Thirsty Sword Lesbians (April Kit Walsh, 2021)

special shame zone because I want you to know how bad this sucked, do not read this:

Rethinking Sex: A Provocation (Christine Emba, 2022). patronizing, puritanical, reductive, painfully cisheteronormative. weirdly afraid of group sex. not actually that provocative, just aggressively Catholic.

and last but most certainly least, a comic that I want to remind you all fucking sucked just one more time before the year is done.

Batman: One Bad Day - The Riddler (Tom King and Mitch Gerads, 2022)

Tom King, go fuck yourself. Mitch is cool though, the art slapped.

#bookblr #if you find a typo in here no you didn't xoxo #feel free to tell me your thots or ask about any of these i love to talk about my unhinged reading habit

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chvnnie · 2 years

Text

[rec.]

lee minho x reader

word count: 3.8k

genre: smut - MINORS DNI

warnings: soft mean!minho (also possessive), cam girl!reader, use of toys, masturbation (m and f), videotaping/live streamed sex, like a teeeeeeny tiny innocence kink, it’s barely there tbh, dirty talk, use of word: slut, oral fixation, anal, mentions of aftercare but nothing detailed. no strings attached situation but they kinda have mutual feelings for each other bc it’s me and i’m soft. if i missed anything, PLEASE LET ME KNOW.

summary: it was only a matter of time before minho invited himself into your live streams.

a/n: so i’ve had this idea for a WHILE and have been wanting to write it forever, and now i’m so nervous about it? anyway! hope it doesn’t suck! <333

this is a work of fiction. this fic in no way represents lee minho as a person or stray kids as a whole. you are responsible for the media you consume. please read responsibly.

There wasn’t much of anything that surprised Minho anymore.

Years of living with seven men had taught him one thing: whatever you think is least likely to happen is probably the most likely. He’s found out things about his friends, and himself, that he might have been okay not knowing. Minho has also found things that he would prefer not to know about, let alone recognize who it belonged to (“Make sure to put it in your drawer next time.” Minho said as he threw the fleshlight at Changbin’s head.). There were things that repulsed him, things that confused him, things that made him reconsider his own opinions.

That’s why, when Jisung started to screen share a live stream of a cam girl, Minho was almost embarrassed to find himself not even a little bit surprised.

If anything, he was surprised it didn’t happen sooner.

“I swear, dude.” Jisung whispered, wide eyes transfixed on the large screen. “There’s just something about her.”

He was right, there was something about her that drew Minho in, unable to look away. Was it the way the camera was angled, carefully hiding her face from view? Or was it the white and pink lighting, softening the scene so it didn’t feel like you were watching a stranger play with herself? Or maybe it was the way she sat, legs spread out to reveal the pretty pink satin of her panties and the irresistible wet spot that decorated it? The simple babydoll lingerie, that hugged her body in the perfect way that made her seem so sinful yet so innocent? The silver choker with hearts decorating the length of it?

Minho couldn’t say what it was that drew Jisung in, or any of his other friends he was watching the stream with. But he knew what it was for him. It was the glass dildo between the stranger’s lips, moans flowing out of the surround sound speakers.

That’s what Minho was captivated with, because he was the one who bought it for you.

The dildo was released with a pop. You dragged the cold, drool slicked glass down the center of your body, the pressure of it making the hairs on your arms rise.

The quality was so clear on Chan’s tv. Minho was glad he could watch this unfold in his studio.

When the glass finally reached your core, Minho heard Chan mumbled something along the lines of fuck this before the unmistakable sound of a zipper. Following their leader’s actions, Hyunjin and Changbin both pushed their pants down while Felix decided to rub himself over his joggers, all sets of eyes unwavering as they watched you tease yourself. That left Minho and Jisung, sitting side by side on the couch, who had yet to touch themselves. The only reason Jisung hadn’t started getting himself off was because of how focused he was on you, pussy drunk from just the way you looked on screen. Minho’s reason was simpler than his; he didn’t want to.

Why would he when he knew he was going to see you when the stream was over.

Actually, if he wanted to get to your place in time, he should probably leave now.

Minho pushed himself off the couch, none of his friends noticing. “You guys are perverts.” He said with a smirk, hand on the doorknob. “Want me to close this on the way out?”

The only one mentally present enough to respond was Chan, who threw a quick “fuck you” over his shoulder before turning back to the lewd entertainment.

Before the door shut, Minho got one last look at Jisung’s face. His jaw was now dropped, eyes almost sparkling as he studied the way you fucked yourself with the dildo. Still not touching himself, Jisung just stared in wonder as if your cunt was the most magnificent thing in the world.

He wouldn’t be wrong. It is. Minho can vouch for it.

The shower was running when Minho let himself in. Untying his shoes, your cat greeted him, bell ringing as she ran to him. Minho squatted, meeting her at eye level. She nuzzled her head in his large hands, purring loud enough to make his hand vibrate.

Minho had always loved your apartment. You complained about the size often, saying you didn’t have enough space or that nothing seemed to fit, but he found it cozy. Your couch was like a cloud, Minho often finding himself sinking into it without even trying (like he was now). Many throw blankets surrounded him, always making this decision the hardest one. How could he pick when they were all the very definition of comfort? It was nearly impossible.

He ended up picking a white yarn blanket, wrapping himself in its warmth. The best thing about these blankets? The hints of raspberry and pomegranate that always wafted off of them. The smell of your favorite lotion.

It was a safe place, your apartment. He found it harder and harder to walk away each time.

Minho clicked on the tv, cuddling with your cat as he waited for you to finish showering. He had watched your live on the drive over - there was no way he would ever miss one of your streams - and judging from the orgasm you had, you were probably trying to relieve more pressure in the shower.

Fine by him. He would make you cum as much he wanted, regardless of how overstimulated you were.

The bathroom door opened, steam curling out of the humid room. Out you walked, large shirt and no shorts, hair tied up in a bun and face mask on. You were distracted by your phone, walking right past Minho into the kitchen before you realized the tv was on.

Poking your head out, you cocked it at him. “I didn’t know you were coming today.”

“Are you disappointed?”

A sly smile creeped on your face, making the face mask crack where it had dried. “You know I never am. Just wasn’t expecting you. Want anything to drink?”

It usually happens like this. Either you invite Minho, or he shows up unannounced, the two of you watch whatever show requires the least amount of attention, sometimes food is ordered when the show is on, sometimes after Minho is done fucking you wherever in the apartment he deemed fit. Already the night is on track to go down its normal route.

But Minho had a different route in mind.

He returned your smile. “Tea?”

The tea was forgotten before it got a chance to cool.

Your back was against the couch, arching up to meet Minho’s middle. His kisses were always calculated; he knew exactly how to make you break with only his tongue against yours, and when to do it. Kissing you was a detailed process, one that he loved to repeat over and over again.

Right now, his kisses were still slow. Drawn out. Committing your taste to memory. Mint tea. Vanilla chapstick. The lingering taste of your core from earlier.

God, it’s his favorite.

Minho pulled away from your lips, placing kisses along your jaw. “Watched your stream today.” His warm breath fanning across the wet kisses made your body shiver. “Did you like your present, baby?”

You giggled, hands sliding up underneath his shirt. His lips had moved to your ear, purposely skimming past the spot that always made you melt. Minho liked the way you squirmed when he narrowly avoids that spot, so his kisses continued their torture close by. “So much, Min. Felt so good inside me.”

“Looked like it.” One hand creeped up your shirt and rested on your belly, thumb rubbing soft circles on your warm skin. “You looked so pretty, stuffing your cunt with it. And the way it shined when you pulled it out? Fuck, it made me drool.”

Just like kissing you was thoroughly thought out, so was the methodical way Minho would rile you up. Kisses barely brushing against your favorite spots, soft touches near your core, everything extremely gentle while his words were something completely different; rough, dirty, harsh.

It was his way of foreshadowing what was to come.

“All I could think about is how much I wanted to be the one to fuck you with it.” Nips mixed in with the kisses, thumb grazing your panty line. “How much I wanted to be the one to make you cum like that while hundreds watched.”

The nails scratching his back paused, and Minho had to resist the urge to smile. This wasn’t the first time he had brought up a possible feature in your streams, but it was the most direct way he’s ever mentioned it. Most of the time, you took it as a joke, laughing the thought off as soon as it was brought up.

He had always meant it, though. There was nothing Minho wanted more than to show all your faithful viewers how good he fucks you. Especially after finding out a few of those viewers were his friends.

The scratching resumed as if they had never stopped. “Sounds a bit possessive, hm? What happened to not getting attached?”

Minho moved his head out of your neck to look at you. He hovered his lips over yours, waiting for you to bring yours in. As soon as you were close enough to him, he moved his back slightly, making you chase his lips. He chuckled as he watched you helplessly try to close the gap and press your lips on his. Minho gripped your chin to still it, stopping your attempts.

“Who said anything about being attached?” Minho bit your bottom lip, tugging it as far as he could before releasing it.

Less than 90 minutes at your apartment, and you were readying your room for a second stream. Minho watched you carefully position the camera to keep both of your faces out of view. You had changed into a matching bra and panty set, almost as sweet as the lingerie you wore just hours ago. White and lacy, perfectly hiding your intimate areas, you looked so innocent.

He couldn’t wait to break that persona.

Minho sat close to the foot of your bed with you in between his spread legs. Your fingers moved quickly across your phone screen, preparing your page to go live. Before hitting the blue broadcast button, you turned to look at him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked, voice completely steady and serious. “You can back out whenever you want to.”

It was a sincere statement. Minho could call it, and you would end the stream, no questions asked. Trying to ignore the way your concern made his heart skip a beat, he leaned in and kissed you deeply as a response.

While kissing, Minho reached around you to take your phone. You didn’t even open your eyes as he tapped the button, starting his debut on your channel.

Once sure the camera was rolling, Minho dropped the phone onto the bed next to you. One hand snuck up and held the back of your neck, keeping you still as he kissed you deeper. At the feeling of his tongue tickling the back of yours, a soft moan traveled between the two of you. It encouraged Minho to kiss you deeper, wanting to make them louder and louder.

Your legs spread out more, knees knocking against his. He didn’t have to look to see what you were doing, hips grinding against your bed for some kind of friction.

“Tsk. Needy, needy, needy.” He whispered against your lips as his other hand went to your thigh, only encouraging you to roll your hips more.

You placed your hand on top of his, eager to have it on your core. Just before he was about to meet it, Minho moved his hand, placing a smack on your inner thigh. You broke the kiss, head falling back as you moaned.

“I’ll touch you when I’m ready. Don’t get greedy just because the camera is on.” He hissed, tugging your head back up to look at him. Minho was sure the grip on your neck was hurting you - he had always been a bit heavy handed - but the way you were looking at him, eyes blown with lust, he really didn’t give a shit how much it hurt. You would always take anything he gave you.

“Please?” You whimpered, lips trembling as you began to beg. “Need something, anything-“

Your pleas were cut off by three of Minho’s fingers forcing their way into your mouth. Your eyes widened slightly, but immediately sunk your cheeks in, sucking his fingers wildly.

“God.” Minho groaned, watching as you bobbed your head up and down the length of his fingers. They brushed the back of your throat, and he felt it constrict as you gagged in them. “You can be so fucking annoying when you beg. Did you know that?”

He didn’t know what was more pathetic; the way you nodded your head in agreement, or how hard the sight of you deep throating his fingers made him. Either way, Minho couldn’t take another second of not being buried deep inside of you.

Minho let go of your neck, and moved to get rid of your panties. Once off, he grabbed one ankle at a time and hoisted them over his thighs, spreading you out and exposing you to the camera. He shoved his fingers to the back of your throat one last time, savoring the sweet melody of your gags before pulling them out. A string of drool connected his fingers to your lips, shining under the LED lights.

“What do you think?” His wet fingers found your slit, sliding up and down from clit to hole, making your back arch. “Should I fuck you with my cock, or that pretty glass dildo you used earlier?”

The giggle that fell from your lips was sinful, making Minho’s brain short circuit. You rested your head on his shoulder, eyelashes batting sweetly as you stared at him. He always melted at the way you looked at him; eyes like whirlpools in a dark ocean, spinning with desire and trust, and something similar to affection. It made him feel both powerful and helpless at once, wanting to do everything to you and everything for you. He was wrapped around your finger just as much as you were his.

Your free hand rested on top of his, fingers interlacing. “Both?” You asked, pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth.

Minho raised his eyebrows at you. “At the same time?”

You shrugged, hips beginning to roll against his fingers. “Need to feel all of you…” The hand that was holding his brought it to your lips, tongue slipping out and gingerly licking the tips. “…in all of me.”

Minho groaned as you took his hand into your mouth, letting yourself gag on his fingers once again. You reached behind you, both hands grabbing the waist of his joggers to pull them down while Minho reached for the dildo. Once his length was out, you rubbed your core, coating your fingers in your wetness before you began to stroke him. Toy in hand, he debated how to prep it. He could slide it on your slit like you had just done with his dick-

-but your face when Minho shoved the dildo down his throat, hissing as he choked on it, confirmed that this was a much better option.

Before you could so much as react, the toy had left his mouth and was being shoved as far into your pussy as it could go. A muffled cry fell from your lips, only to be replaced with a louder one as Minho positioned his cock right at your tightest hole, slowly pushing you down on him.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He grunted, biting down on your shoulder as he bottomed out in your ass. Pausing, Minho watched your face as you adjusted to being completely filled. Only when your breathing evened out, lips feebly sucking on his fingers again, did he start to move. His thrusts were deep, yet slow, letting both you and him feel every little sensation. He grabbed the dildo with his free hand, twisting it as he fucked you with it at the same pace.

Minho compared sex with you to dancing. Every second of it required his entire attention, each step as detailed as the last. But the steps were always changing, always unpredictable, matching the tempo of whatever song he was moving too. He had to calculate every moment as it was happening, never wanting to be caught off guard.

But, no matter how calculated, methodical, or thorough Minho is, you always found some way to surprise the man who hardly ever was.

His fingers muffled your words, causing him to miss what you were saying. Pulling them out, he gave you a chance to speak. You took a second to breathe, letting your lungs refill before you spoke. “Harder.”

There was nothing for him to do other than completely ruin you at this point. After he processed your request, Minho shoved his fingers back down your throat. At the same time, he slammed his cock into your ass, barely registering how loud you were crying next to his ear. His wrist began to ache at the speed at which he was fucking your pussy with the dildo, but he didn’t have the mental capacity to be concerned.

“Is this what you wanted? Huh?” He snapped at you, fucking into you faster and harder than he ever had. “To have all your needy little holes stuffed by me while hundreds of people watch? God-“ Minho’s lips attached to your neck, sucking harshly. His brain was beginning to break from everything; the moans mixing with the sounds of your pussy, the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him, your body shaking against his. All he wanted was to cum, while also never wanting this moment to end. “It’s like your holes were made for me, fuck.”

Your hands flew to his forearms, nails digging into them as your breaths sped up and the movement of your tongue slowed down.

“Look at me.” Minho whispered, voice low so as not to be picked up by the mic. When you faced him, he withdrew his hand from your mouth and kissed you. Tongues clashing, he took the hand that previously occupied your mouth and rubbed your clit, wrist popping as he moved quickly. “Look at me.” He repeated against your lips, refusing to slow down any movement. “Look at me while you cum like the pretty slut you are for me.”

And so, you did. Your eyes stayed locked on his as you spasmed, skin tingling as your orgasm coursed through your body. As you came, Minho couldn’t help but think of Jisung and the way he stared at you this afternoon. The way he watched your movements like a predator hunting his prey, not wanting to miss a single second of it. If only could see how you looked now, if only he could look into the depths of your eyes and watch as absolute pleasure took over your body. He almost felt sad his friend didn’t get to see this.

But, then again, he didn’t. Because that was the best part; anybody could watch you come, hundreds did on a regular basis. But only Minho got to see you come. Only Minho got to witness the beauty that was your orgasms - the sweat dripping down your temples, the beat of your heart against his body, the all consuming sparkle of your eyes, the prickle of your skin.

It was art.

And it was only for Minho to see.

He came as he watched you break, body overwhelmed with pleasure and something he was too afraid to name. Once he was sure your high was over, Minho pulled the dildo out of you and lifted you off his lap. He looked over your shoulder, watching the cum spill out of you with glazed over eyes. Minho scooped some of his cum off of you and spread it across your pussy, not stopping until it was painted with his release, claiming you one last time before ending the stream.

Positive that the live had ended, Minho wrapped his arms around you and fell backwards on the bed. You mindlessly wrapped yourself around him, head resting on his chest as you clung to him. He gently stroked your arm, trying to help you come down.

It was in the post sex silence that your words from earlier came back to Minho. Possessive. Attached. He desperately wanted to ignore them, but they wouldn’t leave his head; knocking over and over again like a woodpecker on his brain.

What changed? When did no attachment become attachment? Was it when you gave him a key to your apartment, and he accepted? Or how he always stayed the night when you asked him to? Or when he bought clothes and toiletries to keep here after you had cleared out drawers for him? It could be a number of other things too - maybe it was when he realized he had a favorite blanket here, or when your scent began to bring him comfort, or even when he learned your preferred pad and tampon brand.

When did Minho start falling for you?

Soft snores brought his attention back to you. You had fallen asleep on his chest, hands clenched in fist by your chest and a leg thrown over his hips. There was no way you were comfortable like that, especially still covered in multiple bodily fluids. But no matter how much he knew he needed to wake you, Minho couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he grabbed the blanket at the end of the bed and covered you up so you wouldn’t get cold. His fingers tangled in your hair, scratching your head softly as you fell deeper into sleep.

Minho struggled to recognize the attachment, but the possessiveness he was aware of. He didn’t see it in the amount of times he referred to you as his while fucking you, or how he got lost in your eyes when you came, or even in the way he smeared his cum all over your cunt tonight.

No, he saw it in the way you slept. Eyes fluttering as you began to dream, soft snores making his eyes grow heavy. You always looked so peaceful as you slept, so pure and innocent in a way that made him want to protect you.

His possessiveness over you could be summed up in one sentence:

Minho would burn the whole world to the ground to insure that he was the only person who gets to watch you sleep.

taglist: @lix-ables

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #lee minho smut #minho smut #lee know #lee minho

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