thegreenlynx

[thegreenlynx]

Freezing Point - Lee Know

summary: camping trip full of chaos, laughter and your cold boyfriend who refuses to admit that he's freezing

pairing: lee know x fem!reader

genre: fluff, humor

word count: 1335 words

a/n: based on this request, a little sth for my gucci prince (like about time fr, very well deserved!)

Masterlist

~°~

Minho was the one who planned this whole camping trip.

He had texted in the group chat two weeks ago with a dramatic “we’re going off the grid” message followed by five overly aggressive nature emojis and a photo of a lake. The next thing you knew, everyone was being dragged into the woods for a two-night “bonding experience.”

You went along with it, mostly because you couldn’t say no to that spark in his eyes when he was excited. Minho didn’t get excited often, not like that. So when he talked about s’mores and hiking and “real fire, not the lame electric fireplace,” you were already packing your bag.

The first day had been long. From the drive out into the woods to the chaotic team effort of setting up tents, gathering firewood, and figuring out how the portable stove even worked—by the time the sun began to dip below the trees, painting the sky in soft amber, everyone was bone-tired. 

The air was crisp, and the scent of pine and woodsmoke was starting to settle around the campsite. You had your hands tucked into the front pocket of your hoodie, cozy, content, and layered like a normal person.

Lee Minho, however, was doing that thing again.

The I'm-not-cold-stop-looking-at-me thing.

You watched him shuffle around the edge of the firepit, arms stiff at his sides, shoulders slightly hunched, lips pressed together tightly — which for anyone else might be subtle, but for Minho? It screamed “I am definitely freezing but will die before I admit it.”

You walked over, holding out your jacket. “Here. Put this on.”

He blinked at it like it was a personal insult. “No. I’m fine.”

“Minho,” you said flatly.

“I don’t get cold easily.”

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m vibing.”

You stepped closer, holding it up more insistently. “Take it or I’m zipping you into it myself.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would.” You stared him down. “Do you really want to test how stubbornly annoying I’m willing to get in front of everyone?”

He hesitated. A gust of wind blew past, and he visibly flinched.

You pounced.

Before he could react, you were behind him, slipping the jacket over his arms and tugging it around him like a very loving trap. He struggled for half a second, but then you tugged the zipper up with dramatic flair and stepped back, triumphant.

“There,” you said. “You’re welcome.”

He stared down at himself, sulking, now fully engulfed in your slightly oversized puffer jacket.

“This is humiliating,” he muttered.

“You look cute,” you countered.

“I look like a swallowed couch.”

“An adorable couch.”

He grumbled under his breath but didn’t take it off.

*****************

A few hours later after dinner, the fire was glowing warmly and everyone was huddled around it. You guys were deep into marshmallow roasting and random chaos. Hyunjin had nearly caught his jacket on fire twice, Jisung was trying to toast a gummy worm, and Felix was quietly humming a soft melody that barely reached over the crackle of flames. 

Changbin had tried to kick off a ghost story session, but the attempt flopped when Hyunjin kept screaming at his own shadow. So, naturally, the conversation shifted back to lighthearted jokes and laughter.

You were tucked against Minho’s side on a long log bench, nursing your tea, when Seungmin suddenly pointed across the fire.

“Wait,” Seungmin leaned forward, squinting. “Is that your jacket, Y/N?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

Jisung choked on his marshmallow. “Hold up. Lee Know hyung is wearing his girlfriend’s clothes?!”

Minho didn’t even look fazed. Just took a long sip from his mug and said, “God forbid my girlfriend loves me and doesn’t want me to freeze to death.”

The guys lost it.

Chan clutched his chest like it physically hurt. “Oh my god, that was dramatic as hell.”

“He gets cranky when he’s cold,” you chuckled. 

“You used to be scary,” Changbin said, shaking his head. “Now you’re just soft.”

“I can be both,” Minho deadpanned.

Jeongin snorted. “Hyung, you’re literally wearing your girlfriend’s coat. You’re not intimidating anymore.”

“He never was,” Felix giggled.

“Can you all shut up,” Minho muttered, but it wasn’t with any real bite. He was too busy slowly leaning into your side.

The others laughed it off and eventually, the teasing died down. Someone brought up the hike planned for tomorrow, and the conversation shifted to trail snacks and who was most likely to get lost in the woods — everyone agreed it was Jisung, even Jisung.

Minho leaned a little closer to you, resting his cheek on your shoulder. “They’re just jealous,” he murmured. “No one’s making them their human heater.”

You smiled, brushing your fingers through his hair. “That’s because you look ridiculously cute in my clothes.”

He smirked, a little smug. “You think I look cute all the time.”

“…Also true.”

His hand found your other hand under the blanket, fingers brushing lightly against your palm, and his forehead rested against yours for a second before he tilted in, brushing his mouth gently against yours.

“I love you,” he said before gently kissing you.

“I love you too, my frostbite boy,” you murmured against his mouth, smiling through the kiss.

*****************

Much later, when the fire had burned low and most of the guys had disappeared into their tents , you stayed behind, curled up on the two-seater camping sofa beside the firewood, wrapped in your blanket and watching the stars blink overhead.

Minho returned from wherever he’d gone — most likely throwing a pinecone at Seungmin — and without a word, plopped down beside you and pulled the blanket from your lap over both of you.

“Didn’t think you’d come back out,” you said softly.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he mumbled, “You weren’t there and I was cold. Which is your fault.”

You turned to look at him. His cheeks were still pink from the cold, his lips soft and parted, eyes blinking sleepily.

“My fault?”

He shifted closer until his head rested against your shoulder. “Also, your jacket smells really good.”

You giggled. “You’ve mentioned.”

“I like it. Makes me feel like you’re hugging me, even when you’re not.”

You felt your heart clench, warm and fluttery. You rested your head against his, fingers brushing his thigh under the blanket.

“You know,” you murmured, “next time you drag everyone out into the cold, maybe wear a jacket before you almost freeze to death.”

“I’ll just borrow yours again,” he mumbled.

“Or, crazy idea, you pack better.”

He let out a soft whine and nuzzled in closer. “Mm. Nope. Already decided I’m stealing all your warmth. Forever.”

You snorted. “You’re a menace.”

He just smirked, but didn't move. If anything, he melted deeper into your side.

There was a beat of quiet. The stars stretched above, the fire crackled low, and the only sounds were the wind and Minho’s ridiculously loud breathing against your neck like he was trying to turn you into a space heater.

“You know…” he said slowly, voice dropping into that dangerously casual tone that never meant anything good for your sanity, “I have some… other ideas to keep me warm.”

You turned to look at him, suspicious. 

He grinned. “Very good burning calories ideas.”

You blushed so hard it felt like your cheeks were catching fire. “Lee Minho!”

“I’m just saying,” he said, brushing his nose against your jaw, “it's a fun and effective idea.”

You smacked his arm again, which only made him laugh harder. “I’m kidding. I mean, mostly.”

“You’re insufferable,” you groaned, hiding your face against his neck.

He burst into laughter — loud and unbothered and entirely too pleased with himself. “What!” he said between cackles. “It’s true!”

You tried to hold back your smile, but it tugged at your lips anyway. When he curled into your side again — wrapped up in your jacket, your blanket, and your arms — the scent of smoke and pine surrounding you, you felt completely, undeniably at home.

-----------

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[thegreenlynx]

𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 | 𝐥.𝐦𝐡

a night full of confessions leads to your friend telling you his biggest secret—well, his second biggest secret.

pairing: virgin!lee minho x fem!reader genre: smut, mutual pining, friends to lovers, soulmates, hurt/comfort, angst w/ happy ending warnings (18+ mdni) : explicit sexual content, virgin!minho, loss of said virginity lol, soft dom!minho, oral (f receiving), disgustingly romantic sex, body worship, possessive behavior, just minho being completely whipped, minho is kind of a dork, miscommunication, heavy themes of past relationship (not minho x reader), open ending if you squint (but not really) word count: 7.1k playlist: a little death by the neighbourhood・wanna be yours by artic monkeys・ apocalypse by cigarettes after sex・champagne coast by blood orange・willow by taylor swift

♡ i poured my heart and soul into this fic 😭 idk if she'll be very popular but she's my baby! hope you like this one ♡

He finds you at the bus stop on the fifth. 

You’re waiting in front of the bench, shivering in the winter air as you try to light one of the cheap Montego cigarettes you found in the convenience store, with that shitty lighter someone left in your bag ages ago. You don’t even smoke. And what a sight you make, cursing under your breath and slumped in a long chiffon skirt that does nothing to protect you against the bitter cold.

That familiar maroon Honda Civic rolls to a stop in front of you, the bright yellow headlights shining onto the blocks of snow framing the sidewalk, engines sputtering into silence. You hear the car door open and then close, the weak crunch of ice under heavy boots. You know it’s him. But you ignore him, keeping your head down as you keep attempting to get the lighter to work.

“It’s late.”

You give up too quickly, pocketing the useless lighter before tossing the unused cigarette into the garbage can next to you. You pull your cardigan tighter around your body, staring out at the glum row of apartments across the street. “What a waste of money.”

“Do you even know where you are right now?”

“The bus was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago,” you sigh unsteadily, screwing your eyes shut tight, knowing that a few tears will probably escape soon. Your phone’s dead, so you can’t even check the transit app, and you’re tired. So, so tired. 

You feel something heavy and warm being placed around your shoulders, the scent of spearmint and cherry liqueur replacing the stench of tobacco. You finally open your eyes and let them find him, standing in front of you plainly.

Minho is dressed simple, as always, clad in a thin grey Henley and dark jeans. It hasn’t even been three weeks since you’ve last seen him, and yet, his hair is already much longer, the soft cut curving over his forehead and into his eyes. 

The icy wind picks up, blowing harder and making you hunch over in the air like a useless reed, but Minho doesn’t even flinch, arms crossed over his chest as he quietly watches you.

“Minho. Take your jacket back.” 

“I’m not cold.”

“Stop lying. It’s below freezing.”

“So let’s go.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. “Where, Minho? Where would I go with you? And don’t you have someplace to be right now?”

“Don’t you?” he shoots back pointedly, effectively shutting you up.

It’s the twenty-first of December, the release date of Han Jisung’s sophomore album. You both had still been together when he sat you down in his studio, buzzing with excitement as you let him play the finished record for you. You were the first one ever to hear it, beside Jisung and his production team. 

It meant something to him, you know that. Jisung called you a few days ago, drunk and sobbing over his words. The first time you heard from him in five months, and it wasn’t even when he was sober. He had pleaded with you to come to his release party, that every song he had ever written was about you. And—he missed you. You promptly hung up the phone. 

You inhale deeply, willing yourself not to cry, but the tears leak out anyway, pathetically trailing down your cheeks. The dampness clings to your skin, mixing with the makeup you had caked on earlier to create a sticky mess. God, you feel terrible. You don’t remember the last time you ate anything. 

“Leave me alone, Minho.” You try to be sharp, but your voice trembles, and you’re so obviously wounded that it’s almost embarrassing. “Just go to the party and have fun.”

He doesn’t say anything in response, just moving forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. You can’t find it in yourself to complain, pathetically melting into his touch like you were molded to enjoy it. You had wanted so badly to be held, and here he is, obstinately staying put no matter how much you try to push him away. 

“You know, I was lying,” Minho whispers into your ear, his breath tickling you. “I am cold.”

“So take your jacket back.”

Minho lets go of you, and you miss him already, but you keep your face stoic as he playfully backs away from you. “Come and give it to me, then.”

You scowl, recognizing the devilish smile dancing on his lips. “Stop it. You’re seriously being annoying, Minho.”

“But you know how I love it,” he replies easily. His laughter cuts into the air like wind chimes—lovely, carefree, and lighter than you could ever be again.

He quickly gets back into his car, knowing you’re going to follow. You rush after him, slapping your palm against the glass of the window just as he locks the door. “Lee Minho! Take your fucking jacket back!”

Minho cracks the window open just enough for him to speak through it. “It’s too cold for me to open the door again. Come through the other side and give it back to me.”

With a groan, you fold to his tricks, stomping over to the passenger door and getting into the car. You try shrugging off the jacket, but Minho doesn’t let you, buckling the belt over your arms before you can. 

“I hate you,” you snap, as Minho puts the key into the ignition and gets back onto the road. You lean forward, turning the heat to max even though you’re already sweating under Minho’s puffer. His car always takes forever to warm up, and he’d been standing in the frigid outside for a good seven minutes. 

“You don’t,” Minho responds, unfazed. He’s right and he knows it, so you turn away from him petulantly, refusing to look in his direction. “Want to listen to music?”

“Fine.” You switch on the radio, but the moment you hear one of Jisung’s songs crooning through the speakers, you turn it right back off. “The universe really hates me, doesn’t it?”

“Hmm, let’s see.” Minho taps his fingers against the wheel in mock thought. “You’re smart. You’re beautiful. You have a good heart. Yeah, the universe definitely hates you.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at what he says and silently thank the night for concealing how red your face must be. He doesn’t very much often compliment people, always choosing his words very carefully, so you know he must mean it. “Shut up.”

You can discern Minho’s smile in the dark, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of the road, simply passing you his phone. “You can use my Spotify, choose whatever you like.”

You take your time scrolling through his playlists, until you settle on a good song. Soft jazz floods through the speakers and envelopes you like an embrace, but nowhere near as warm as Minho’s. 

Minho slows down as the car approaches a red light, until it reaches a complete halt. You brazenly stare at his side profile, sharp and handsome, and take in the way the traffic lights paint him almost like he’s some kind of an ethereal creature.

“How did you find me, anyway?”

“I have my ways.”

“Can you not be so cryptic all the time? It’s not funny.”

Minho doesn’t flinch at your audible irritation. “You forgot to stop sharing your location with me.”

The light changes to green, and the car starts moving again.

You scoff. “And why did you show up?”

Silence. You can see Minho’s shoulders visibly tense, feel how the air instantly becomes heavy with a pressure that you can’t quite place. You should have considered his actual answer to the question more carefully before asking it, especially because you have an idea of what it might be. 

“Don’t.” Minho’s voice takes on a real edge, the first time it’s ever been directed towards you. “Don’t ask me that.”

You purse your lips, feeling the pit in your stomach grow deeper. It feels strange, talking about it out loud. Of course you had noticed, the way his eyes linger on you for far too long to be just a casual glance. The way when you enter a crowded room, he always finds you, quietly checking up on you and making sure you’re okay. Little does he know that with him, you seldom feel not okay. 

 “You have… you have a crush on me.”

“A crush?” Minho lets out a dry laugh. “Is that what you think it is?”

“Well, yes?” 

You sit there stupidly, waiting as he wordlessly pulls into the driveway, parking the car before he finally turns to face you, his eyes blazing with an intensity that you’ve never seen in all of the years you’ve known him. 

It frightens you a little, to be trapped in this state of limbo with Minho. Before, he had always been this steady, constant presence, kind and funny and so brimming with warmth. The appropriate distance was there, of course, but he was always there in your periphery, smiling and happy to help. You had been with Jisung then, before. And after… you had been emptied, left with nothing else to give. 

Every single time, Minho had shown up for you, patiently wiping your tears and listening to you cry for as long as you needed. Minho, your friend, steady and constant. Maybe you hadn’t realized that the world kept turning in the after, that Minho could have changed too; you just never noticed.

“God, you know nothing,” he says softly, slowly reaching his hand out to wipe off the smudge of mascara under your eyes. His fingers are like silky petals on your skin, smooth and shy as they traverse the planes of your face.

“Know what, Min?” You whisper, the sting of bated anticipation in your chest. You’re terrified of what he might say next, but at the same time, you yearn for the truth, for the months of wondering to be sated.

Minho just stares at you for a few more seconds, and you have to keep yourself from squirming under his gaze, wondering if his eyes are deepened with the weight of all the secrets he must be hiding. But he just ends up shaking his head, breaking the moment like it never existed.

“This is pointless.” Minho looks away and exhales sharply, grabbing his keys and unbuckling his seatbelt. “Come on, let’s go inside. I’ll make you hot cocoa.”

“But—” 

Minho cuts you off by opening the car door, unabashedly avoiding how you attempt to burn a hole with your eyes through his retreating back. “I’m not doing this. Let’s go warm up.”

“Doing what—”

“Cocoa.”

The door slams behind Minho as he makes his way up the gravel pathway leading to the front door of the house, ignoring your indignant protests—you definitely didn’t miss what a stubborn jerk he can be. Knowing you’ve lost yet another battle against the enigmatic and exceptionally evasive Lee Minho, all you can do is sigh and follow him inside.

You’ve always loved Minho’s place. Tucked away in an unassuming neighborhood, far from the central hustle and bustle of the city; it’s something out of a storybook, a little yellow house surrounded by rose bushes and a white picket fence. 

The interior is even prettier, with its tastefully mismatched couches and brightly-colored walls that Minho had painted himself. Every corner is occupied by a potted plant, every surface crammed with books to satisfy Minho’s insatiable need to always be reading something. An antique floor lamp casts a hazy yellow glow throughout the living room, and your personal favorite—the three kittens that quickly abandon Minho to curl around your ankles, purring at you in greeting. 

The cozy, lived-in feeling of Minho’s home is a striking contrast with the hard lines and lifeless modernity of Jisung’s high-rise apartment downtown; you had always felt guilty for preferring Minho’s style. It felt comforting in a way that Jisung’s never was. 

You don’t come here often, but when you do, it feels like summer—perpetually so, even in the bleak wintertime. Or maybe that’s just what it feels like whenever Minho’s around.

“Ten minutes,” Minho says over his shoulder as he heads into the kitchen. 

You unstrap your shoes and settle down into your favorite spot, the fluffy loveseat in front of the bay window strung up with fairy lights. You listen to Minho putter around the kitchen, pulling out a pot and chopping up chocolate like he always insists on doing, instead of just using a hot cocoa mix. 

Dori, the youngest of Minho’s cats, flops into your lap and cuddles into you, purring for your attention. Giggling, you indulge him, as you let the peacefulness sink in, feeling calmer than you have in a long time. 

Nothing about the house has changed, other than the small cluster of purple crocus flowers that peek through the snow outside the window. You appreciate his attention to detail, like how he’s chosen winter blooms to keep his garden thriving even in the harsh weather. Everything about him is so sweet and lovely that it almost hurts, pricking at your heart like a needle. 

You glance over at the fireplace mantle, noting that he’s still kept up that picture of you both from May. You’re standing in the grass and holding onto your diploma like a ghost, amongst the throngs of your giddy fellow graduates. And there’s Minho, sticking bunny ears behind your head with his fingers, trying to make you laugh because he had sensed how sad you were that day, no matter how much you smiled and insisted that you were fine. 

Jisung had texted you at the last minute, telling you that he couldn’t make it anymore because he had to meet with his manager. You knew it wasn’t really his fault, and he had apologized to you over and over again, but it didn’t change how unimportant you felt, especially since you had always supported Jisung despite your own commitments. He broke up with you soon after that anyway. 

“They missed you,” Minho calls out from where he’s washing his hands at the sink, which faces out into the living room.

“Hm?” You look up, meeting his eyes across the room.

“The cats.” The expression on his face is earnest, soft and open, as he watches you play with Dori. “They really missed you.”

You feel the corners of your lips tilt up slightly. “Did you miss me too?”

You expect him to snort and say no, tease you like he usually does whenever you act bratty, or maybe even just play it off, given how the question could lead into a rather sensitive discussion. But instead, Minho blushes, his face turning a pretty shade of pink as he looks away from you to stare down into the sink like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“I did.”

You rack your head for something to say, but you’re speechless. Minho is by no means a dishonest man, but overtime, you have understood that he rarely ever likes to be so candid with his emotions, afraid of being vulnerable; you know it’s also why he deflected so quickly in the car.

So, as always, Minho just clears his throat with a note of finality, entering the living room with two steaming mugs before you can respond to him. He hands you one while avoiding your eyes, just pausing to pat Dori’s head, before he sits down on the armchair opposite to the loveseat. 

You peer down into your mug, at the way Minho has added a generous swirl of whipped cream, and of course, mini marshmallows arranged into a small smiley face on top. So sweet, so lovely.

As carefully as you can to avoid disturbing Minho’s little creation, you take a sip of the drink, the rich, slightly bitter cocoa instantly warming you from head to toe. You can’t help but smile, squinting over at Minho, who hides his own satisfied grin behind his mug. 

“How do you always know exactly what I need? You’re amazing, you know that?”

He shrugs, trying to act nonchalant, but you spy the lingering tinge of color on the tips of his ears. “Call it my spidey sense, I guess.”

“You’re such a dork,” you say, draining the last of the hot cocoa. “Lee Minho, you’re probably my life’s greatest paradox.”

He quirks an eyebrow at you, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “How so?”

“Sometimes, I feel like you’re an open book. The things you cherish are so clear to me. Bad jokes. Gardening. Libraries. And of course, the kids.” You lift Dori’s paw into the air in emphasis, waving it at Minho, who looks at you like you’ve just invented cats entirely. “But other times, I feel like I don’t know you at all. You keep so much to yourself, and I know you’re entitled to your thoughts, but sometimes, it hurts, thinking that you can’t trust me with some of them. It’s confusing.”

Minho ponders over your words, deliberating before he speaks any further, and you wait patiently, nestling your fingers into the kitten’s fur, trying your best to soothe your nerves. This could very well become the third time tonight that he succeeds at averting the subtle confrontation you have been building up in your head for so long. But as predictable as you think he is, he continues to surprise you, opting to answer your musings rather than ricochet into a different subject. 

“I know that I’m confusing, that it’s frustrating,” Minho says in a small voice. “But I can’t help it.”

You give him a resigned nod, looking out the window. It has started to snow again, the delicate crystals spiraling down from the inky sky. “It’s fine. You’re not frustrating, Minho.”

“No, it’s not fine. And I know I am. But I don’t want to be. Not to you.” Minho takes a deep breath, setting his mug down on the little coffee table. “Ask me anything, and I’ll try my best to answer truthfully.”

Minho looks you in the eye, pinning you into place. How potent it is, the feeling of his gaze on you, and you drink it in, like it’s the alcohol you were tipping into your mouth three weeks ago, the night you ghosted Minho. You’d never been that intoxicated before, brave enough to pull him deep into the flashing lights of the club, dizzy enough that you forgot to miss someone else, completely enthralled by Minho’s hands on your waist. 

The spell never broke, even after you stumbled in your heels and pushed Minho away, rushing out of the club in a panic after remembering yourself. You had thought about Minho the entire taxi ride back, his bewitching smile and pretty eyes haunting you even in your dreams.

“Okay,” you agree, bracing yourself for the fallout. “What is your biggest secret?”

Minho goes rigid, and that horribly familiar, disconcerting feeling permeates the atmosphere between you both again. It’s like your question has sucked the oxygen out of the room, freezing you and Minho into an uncomfortable mold. His knuckles go white at where they so tightly clutch the side of the armchair, like it’s his only source of support. Immediately, you regret so directly asking him the question, impulsively blurting it out without easing into the topic. And now that you’ve made yourself blatantly obvious, you would probably never hear him say it. 

“That’s the one thing I can’t tell you. I’m sorry.” Minho clenches his jaw, turning his head to the side, as if he’s willing himself to keep quiet.

“Yeah, whatever.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, wondering how you’ll ever get him to open up. But he’s not the only one to blame this cat-and-mouse game on—barely an hour ago, you were in the sketchiest part of town, trying to catch the last bus out so you could indefinitely table your problems. “How about we just—”

“But I can tell you my second biggest secret,” Minho offers, and you lean forward, startled. His knee bounces up and down, like whenever he’s nervous, and you so quickly soften.

“Minho, you don’t have to tell me anything. It was a stupid idea.” You let out a small huff. “I know I have a bad habit of running away… but I’m here for you too.”

“You can run as much as you want, I’d still find you anyway,” Minho counters. 

Instantly, you go warm, trying to play it off by feigning annoyance. “You’re so…”

“I’m so…?” He smirks, echoing your words.

“I don’t even know.” You roll your eyes, focusing very intently on the eyelet hem of your blouse and trying not to react too excitedly when he moves from the armchair to sit down next to you. “I just want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

Minho smiles. “I know I can. I’ve just never told anyone this before.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

All of the possible answers he might give you flip through your head, your mind skimming the pages in a book full of completely absurd ideas that could probably never be true. Minho failed his LSAT. Minho is the neighborhood plug. Minho’s famous tiramisu that he brings to every Friendsgiving is actually store bought. Or maybe— 

“I’m a virgin.”

“Oh.” You just blink at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Out of everything you thought of, you definitely never imagined it would be this. Of course, you aren’t one of those people who believes in losing your virginity as soon as possible; you yourself never slept with someone until a little over a year ago, and it was only ever with one person you were very deeply in love with. You suppose you fell for meaningless stereotypes, when you just assumed that someone as attractive and charismatic as Minho would have already had sex. Watching countless women flirt with Minho during outings also wasn’t much evidence for the truth.

“Sorry,” Minho says, laughing lightly. “I just blurted that out. Was it too much information?”

“No, no, Minho, you’re fine,” you immediately backtrack, realizing how awkward your reaction must have looked. “It’s normal. I completely get it, you know.”

Minho pauses, frowning in confusion. “Wait, so you and Jisung never…?”

If you were a little warm before, you’re positively aflame now. “No, um, we did. I’m just… I guess I get wanting to wait for the right person. I mean, that’s why you haven’t yet, right?”

“Something like that.” Minho’s eyes glitter, completely unreadable. “But I can’t reveal everything at the same time. It’s your turn. What is your biggest secret?”

“I saw this coming,” you mumble, glancing back at the mantle, at that picture of you both. Minho’s bunny ears, your reluctant smile. The blank space in the photo that should have been occupied. 

Minho grabs your hand, and you jerk in surprise, but his eyes are full of sincerity. “I was just messing with you. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

You shake your head, running your thumb over the side of his ring finger, the callus he has there because of the strange way he holds pencils. It’s strange, how you have just innately memorized the fine details about him, how you treasure each one like it’s a gift. 

“It’s not that I don’t want to, Minho. I’ve just been unable to confront it for so long, you know? If I say it out loud, then it’s final. I’m alone. And I don’t want to be.”

There’s a look of understanding that passes between you both, Minho’s eyes widening by the slightest fraction when he realizes what you’re hinting at. Or rather, who.

“You’re not alone,” he says quietly, his hand tightening around yours, affirming himself. “We can confront it together.”

It feels easy when Minho says it, facing the truth. Everything’s easy when he’s around. You hate the beach, but you’ll go to California and get sand in your hair if he was with you. You’re afraid of cemeteries, but he whistles your favorite song whenever you both pass one, so then it just seems like another sunny park. You’re perpetually stressed about grad school, but Minho always cuts up fruits into star shapes and brings them to you when you’re camping in the library, and suddenly, studying doesn’t seem so scary anymore. 

You don’t want to run anymore. 

“I don’t love Jisung anymore.” Your voice is soft, maybe a little strained. “I haven’t, for a while. That’s my secret.”

People have been pestering you nonstop for the last few months, whispering behind your back about how hung up you apparently are over your ex. The disdainful looks you shot at the romance section in the bookstore, the hours you spent your free time swaddled in bed, staring at your ceiling. That was enough for people to make their assumptions. But it felt easier that way, rather than acknowledging that you’ve moved on, that you’re afraid of what’s next, the unknown. Wallowing felt better than square one. 

“Still feel alone?” Minho questions, letting go of your hand to tuck a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “Because I promise you’re not.”

“No,” you admit, the weight in your heart shifting elsewhere. “I told you I was going to marry him, remember?”

“I do,” he whispers. “I remember.”

“That’s in the past. I don’t love him anymore,” you repeat yourself, pleading with him between the lines. “I’ve been selfish, Minho. I didn’t want to say it, but at the same time, I was praying you understood. I was wrong. But tell me you understand now, Min. Please.”

You don’t know who moves first, and it doesn’t matter. Not when the gap between you and him is so unbearably small, the tension so painfully heavy. 

Fireworks don’t go off, an offscreen crowd doesn’t burst into applause. The faint howling of wind can be heard, and the cats mewl from somewhere else in the house. It feels so shockingly normal, so right, with his lips on yours. Minho kisses you, and it feels like coming home. 

“No one else,” he murmurs your name over and over again, like it’s a prayer. “There’s been no one else.”

Minho cups your neck with one hand, circling the other around your waist, tugging you closer to him. It’s almost overwhelming, the feeling of him all over you. It fills you with a yearning, even though you have him right here, where he reels you in so deftly. The sleeve of your cardigan slips down, exposing the bare skin of your back, but neither of you moves to fix it back into its place. The kiss deepens with your longing, the urgency in which you crave each other abundant. The sound of your sighs fill the room, your desires bared to each other so completely. This is all you have wanted for so long, but you can’t forget yourself, the uncertainty that tugs in the back of your mind. 

With strength to rival the gods, you pull away from his lips and bore your eyes into his, to catch any sign of doubt. You find nothing at all, save for utter devotion. “Minho. I can’t—we can’t. I don’t want to feel like you’re being pressured into this. You should wait for—”

“For you. I’ve been waiting for you.”

You let out a sigh of disbelief, shaking your head slowly. “What if we never had this conversation? What if I left this city, and we went our separate ways? And you never saw me again?”

Minho’s eyes sadden even as he loops his fingers under the straps of your tank top, swiftly pushing the material off your shoulders. “No one else.”

“Lee Minho, you can’t be real…”

“But I am. And so are you, somehow.” He runs the pads of his fingers down your arms, looking down at you in awe, as if he can’t even comprehend that this is truly happening. “Tell me you want this too.”

You reach your arms up, cradling his beautiful face in your hands so you can look him in the eye. “I want you.”

And then Minho’s grasping the backs of your thighs and lifting you off of the couch with ease, moving you to the adjacent room while simultaneously kissing you. You’ve never been inside his bedroom, what has been a vastly forbidden territory to you in your mind, all this time. It smells overwhelmingly of Minho, of mint and of cherries and of a heady je ne sais quoi. 

Minho’s soul is made of sunshine, so pure and gentle in every single aspect, but the way he touches you is nothing but electric, like he’s lightning and you’re a midnight sky. You feel like you’re nineteen and having your first kiss again, shy and unsure of yourself, even though you are far from inexperienced. But ironically, it’s Minho who moves confidently, who maneuvers you onto the bed so expertly that his own innocence can very much be doubted. 

And then he’s slotted between your legs, kneeling in front of you at the edge of the bed like your hips are his altar. And you really might as well be some deity, with how he carefully, reverently peels off your stockings, worshipping every inch of skin that he frees. 

He kisses the spot right above your knees, and then trails his lips even higher, onto your inner thighs, so close yet not nearly enough. Curious fingers skim the thin waistband of your panties, and he looks up at you—questioning, hesitant. “Can I take this off?”

You can barely muster a reply, merely nodding as he slides the panties off, haphazardly throwing them elsewhere. Minho slowly pushes your legs apart, his gaze focusing on your dripping core. You feel your breath hitch as he takes you in, staring at you with his mouth slightly agape, eyes glassed over in astonishment. And then he smirks at you, promptly burying his head in between your thighs in order to finally satiate himself. 

Minho’s face scrunches up in a delight that has you blushing, like your pussy is the sweetest meal he’s ever had in his life. “You taste so fucking good. Is this what I’ve been missing out on?”

You can’t find it in yourself to answer, when he dives back in, his enthusiasm manifesting in something hungry and achingly steady. He takes his time, mapping out your cunt with his mouth, memorizing the way you twitch when he alters a specific movement. Minho takes his time eating your pussy, tonguing at you in leisure, learning what exactly makes you tick. Every flick of his tongue is deliberate, measured, like he’s already done this a thousand times before, but with the way his eyes never leave yours, you know this is his love letter to you, written out in the most intimate, intricate way you could imagine. 

You gasp as he firmly runs his tongue through your folds, the pressure building into a tight coil of heat in your stomach, an unmatched feeling of ecstasy you can just never seem to achieve on lonely nights. But Minho makes it seem effortless, torturing you by avoiding just the exact place where he knows you need him the most. 

“Minho,” you whine, palming at your breasts over the lace of your flimsy bra. “Don’t tease.”

He laughs against your cunt, sending the vibrations of his own filthy enjoyment through your core. “That needy already? Is it that good, beautiful?”

You pout, unable to fathom how controlled he is, how assured he is in something that should be completely uncharted for him. But you know Minho is a learned man, approaching all actions both in and out of work fully prepared, having done his research on every single hypothetical. It’s extremely attractive, and it turns you on even more, thinking of how he undressed you with the focused goal of making you come. 

You also know that Minho can never say no to you, so he obliges, suddenly sucking at your clit with an obscene precision that has you seeing stars even on this stormy night. The way he speaks into you is almost enough, the dirty promises he whispers under his breath, how he groans your name when you arch into his mouth. Minho spreads his palm flat on your stomach, keeping you anchored to both his bed and heart, completely greedy over you.

He kisses your pussy like it’s a gift—the best one he’s ever had, with how he moans into you like he’s the one being so relentlessly pleasured. He eats you out like a starved man, drinking in every drop of arousal that you release, revelling in your taste like you’ve blessed him. Somewhere in the middle, he’s discarded his shirt, engrossed in only you.

Minho’s nose bumps against your clit as he delves deeper into you, the tip of his ring finger teasing at your entrance, making you flutter in need. Carefully, he eases his finger inside completely, delicately curling it into you. He gauges your reaction, studying how your brows pull together as you moan, how you tremble when he adds in another finger, steadily building up speed. 

Your fingers tangle into his soft, soft hair, holding onto him for support as he brings you to that final wave of euphoria, locking eyes with you. Your legs tremble around his leg, threatening to close and shut him out, but he grips your thighs like a vice, keeping them open as he finishes what he started. Every stroke of his tongue is a hot flash of white on your vision, every thrust of his fingers inside of you coaxing you through the high. You come undone like that, crying out as Minho brings you back down, gently reeling you back in with hot, open-mouthed kisses pressed upon your drenched thighs. 

Minho rises to stand up, towering over you as you fall back into the sheets, dazed. His pupils are dilated, his heady gaze is intensified rather than sated, like he just can’t get enough. Neither can you, leaning up to meet his lips in the middle as he unbuckles his belt and kicks off his jeans. 

Minho unclasps your bra and tosses it to the side, cupping your tits in his beautiful hands as he kisses over your clavicles, traveling up your neck. You grab at his boxers, trying to get them off, but Minho catches your wrists, halting you as he pulls away. 

“Sorry, just give me one second,” Minho says sheepishly, turning to open the bottom drawer of his bedside drawer. He rifles through its contents with an impatient huff, until he slams it closed, finding what he’s been looking for. He tears open the golden packet with his teeth, meeting your eyes. “Never thought I’d have to use this, but a man can never be too prepared, you know?”

You giggle, rolling your eyes. “I know you, Minho.”

He frees himself of the final layer that separates you both, before leaning into you, speaking against your lips in a low tone that sends a cool shiver through your body. “You really do.”

Minho gently pushes you back to rest you comfortably on his pillows, your hair spread out like a fan as he cages you in with his body. Your bare chests are pressed against each other, skin sticking to skin, and you can feel the racing beat of Minho’s heart; he’s nervous, no matter how confident he appears to be. 

“Hey,” you murmur, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay if you want to take a break, Min.”

He blinks cutely, mulling over your words. Minho once told you that blinking slowly means “I love you” in cat language, and the memory of that is enough to have your heart cracking completely open and spilling out all warm and cozy. 

“I’m not nervous because it’s my first time.” Minho smooths a loose lock of hair out of your eyes. “I’m worried it isn’t going to be good enough for you.”

Considerate, even when it shouldn’t be about you. 

“Minho, it's going to be perfect because it’s you.” You let out a sigh, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully. “Besides, I honestly would never have thought you’re a virgin, given your performance so far tonight.”

He huffs out a small breath of relief. “Okay, good, because I did do some—”

 “—research,” you finish. 

You both just smile at each other like idiots, before the hazy wave of arousal sweeps over, and you become aware yourselves again, that you’re finally here, alone and completely bared to each other. Minho looks deep into your eyes, and you just can’t remember the last time you’ve experienced something so romantic, so fervent and utterly consuming. One hand holds your face— tender, like it’s your first time—while Minho uses the other to guide himself inside of you. 

The feeling of Minho entering you is an exquisitely tortuous stretch that has you both sighing into each other’s mouths—you definitely aren’t used to how big Minho is, but it’s the months of pining, of inexplicable need, finally being satisfied that you really need to process. The first few thrusts are slow and experimental, with Minho giving you the time to adjust to his size, but then you wrap your legs around his lower back, prompting him to go faster. 

You never thought Minho could get any more beautiful than he already is, but now that you have him like this, his sharp features contorted with pleasure, you think otherwise. You meet him in a messy kiss, tugging at the ends of his hair, and you don’t anticipate that simple action to have such a profound consequence, because before you realize it, Minho lets out a choked moan, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Did you just—”

Minho pulls back to look at you, his cheeks flushed with both exertion and a bashfulness that would have you kicking your feet if you could. “I can’t help it, it was hard enough not to when I was going down on you. You’re just so fucking sexy.”

“Okay, now I can believe that you’re a virgin,” you snicker, but you peck him on the cheek, smoothing out any lingering embarrassment. “And now that it’s done, how do you feel?”

He frowns, shaking his head. “Fucking amazing, but I’m not done yet. You haven’t finished.”

“But technically I already did—”

“Are you really arguing with me right now?” 

You concede. “I—no.”

Minho smiles in satisfaction, before turning to his side, pulling over an extra pillow and slightly tilting you over so he can slide it under you. You let him do as he pleases, but give him a questioning look. 

“I read online that it helps you finish faster,” Minho explains, grinning. “Something about the angle, I suppose.”

Giggling, you trace your fingers along his jawline and then kiss him, lightly biting his lower lip as you do. “Lee Minho, you’re such a dream.”

That clear proclamation is enough for Minho’s eyes to initially widen and then fill with something dark, spurring him to ram into your pussy so suddenly that you jolt in his arms. He picks up his pace with a newfound determination, and as always, he’s right—the angle in which he slams into you is sharp, hitting you in just the right place. 

“Baby…” 

You whimper at the roughness in his tone, at the desperation in how he groans sin into your ears. It all so starkly contrasts with the achingly sweet way his hand clasps yours, keeping you tethered to him like a promise. 

You feel that high approach you even faster than before, and Minho notices too, with how your sighs have taken on an unsteady rhythm. He presses his fingers against your lips, you obey his unsaid command, opening your mouth and letting him wet them, before he begins to rub circles into your clit, urging you to come.

“Minho, Minho,” you gasp out his name over and over again, the multiple sensations clouding over your mind and overwhelming you in the best way, forcibly enticing you to your climax. 

“He’s my best friend,” he says against your lips, panting. “But I was never his the way I was yours.” 

That’s all you need to be pushed over the edge, the feeling so intense that you teeter in that delicate balance between utter bliss and unconsciousness. You let out a broken moan as you finish, but Minho’s grip stays on you, firm and possessive, before it’s his turn again. It’s addictive, how he shudders so softly, his shoulders slightly shaking against yours. 

“And I am yours.”

Minho’s body slumps against yours, and he buries his face into your neck, as you both catch your breath. He then rolls off of you, settling himself against the headboard and encircling you in his arms, kissing you all over your face and hugging you close. 

“I think I get it now,” Minho whispers, his breath tickling your ear. “Why they call it a little death.”

“Hm?” you mumble, still caught in a haze. Minho just smiles at you fondly, kissing your forehead. 

“People say that when you orgasm, it’s a little death. I used to think it was rather morbid, but I now understand. It feels like I’ve just died and been reborn. It feels like you’ve brought me back to life.”

“Was it that good, beautiful?” You give him a teasing smile, echoing him from earlier. 

“Mhm. So good that I’m ready to die again, actually,” Minho says, laughing as you grip his shoulders, letting you push him back onto the pillows. He falls back with a small grunt, a sound so insignificant that it shouldn’t be reigniting you so quickly. 

You sling your leg over Minho’s torso, straddling his hips. “So am I.”

The night doesn’t claim you until hours have gone by, when Minho is finally fast asleep, many little deaths later. You can’t help but admire him in the silence, him lying there with his face pressed into the pillow, one arm thrown over your waist, keeping you close even when surrendered to sweet slumber. 

His hair flops over his forehead and into his face, where it slightly flutters as he breathes. The moonlight filters through the gap in his gauzy curtains, lighting him up in the most gorgeous way. He is so precious, more than anything you have ever seen. 

Gently, you place the smallest kiss on the tip of his nose, on that tiny freckle that enchants you so very much—Minho is enchanting. He stirs slightly, mumbling your name under his breath, but fortunately, he doesn’t wake up. You don’t want to give him any more trouble tonight about his biggest secret, after all. 

“I love you too, Lee Minho.”

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AUTHOR'S NOTE it's 1 am and i have a flight in a few hours FML but i just loveeee soft fluffy sexy soulmate!minho. i have a part 2 in mind for this universe bc i adore it smmm but idk??? maybe i'm just delusional because i have a new crush </3 anyway, i now promise to get onto my other wips hehe, just had to get this out of the system🥰🤞

TAGLIST @ajxreads@chizumiyoshi @jetblackbelle @yeahhspider@army-stay-noel@143hyunes @httphans @ave-221 @Chaotic-world-of-the-j @nyasstars @beautifulmusicaddict-blog@imasimplol@xsw-void@queen-klarissa @hyunjinsamdl @heavenhannie @ultimatestayandminoronce @moasworld @chillseo @boomfrogg @hyunzerolv @browniebearr@hanniemylovelyquokka@ardef38@anyhow-everything@sweetpickledjins@insertsomethingaboutanimehere@seukijeuxq@jinniedumpling@extrhotjne@firelordtsuki@mnwrld@missseoulite@oddracha@ladylexis @lenkusubitvh @dessianna1

p.s. ♡ if you liked my work, please consider reblogging! & feel free to leave your thoughts/send in an ask, i love to talk ♡

©jisungsdaydreamer 2025 | all rights reserved. i do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

[thegreenlynx]

Limbo (Proposals & Respect) - Felix ver.

Description: In which bsf! Stray Kids find out you are seeing someone else.

Pairing: Felix x fem reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, humor, fluff

Content Warnings: swearing, group chat, some members (mostly HN & HJ) of the group chat hit on reader when she isn't even in the chat to see it, overprotective Minho, butthurt yet sweet Seungmin, Mentions of arranged dating & family meddling, Felix tries to be a good friend, Chan attempts to tame Minho (it doesn't really work) use of nicknames (sunbeam).

SS Count: 17

A/N: Want the rest of the Limbo series? Read Here ↴ | I.N | Bangchan | Minsung | Lee Know | Seungmin | Hyunjin |

Fake Text Works

SKZ Works

Taglist: @my-neurodivergent-world @possum-playground @m-325 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts

[thegreenlynx]

When There’s A Spider

Warnings: none really, spiders? But I feel like that’s kind of a given? This is mostly a crack post, mentioned running away, spider in hair, spider web full of spider eggs, idk 🤷‍♀️

Hyung Line

Maknae Line

[thegreenlynx]

This is such a fun concept I love this so much 💚

24 TO 25 (18+!) — an interactive christmas story

❕HOW TO PLAY (important): Take your time, make yourself comfortable with a beverage of your choice or some snacks, read the story under the cut at your own pace. You, Y/N, are actually part of the story, starring as the main character and it’s your task to make decisions on how the story ends. Choices will be written in bold and have links attached to them, which will lead you to the next chapters of the story (based on your decision).

📖 SYNOPSIS: Like last year you spend the 24th and 25th December in a cosy winter cottage located in the snowy mountains. Being a part of your big friend group, it’s easy to lose focus when so many people are gathered together, all of them having a special connection with you. But which one of them will be your Christmas miracle? It’s up to you to decide!

📁 CONTENT INFO: ot8 x afab reader (not at the same time), all the imaginable relationship tropes involved (📎 picture for reference), fluff, smut and some angst

📂 WARNING: smut <including unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (m + f receiving), fingering handjob, piv, creampie, facial, body cumshot, praise, different name calling such as baby, doll, angel, slut, princess, some possessiveness, semi public sex and accidentally getting caught, slightly tipsy but consensual sex>, alcohol consumption, mention of breakup and emotional discussions, being inside cramped spaces

🗒 WORD COUNT: approx. 5K (or 15K in total if you re-read)

Have fun and let me know who you ended up with! 💭

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“Where did you put the flour, Lixie?” Minho says, already getting on your nerves with his voice. It’s not as if his voice sounds annoying per se, but he for sure is.

“It should be in the upper cupboard.”

Minho sometimes visits you, after all he’s close with your roommate Felix and everyone around here – except for you. It’s totally fine to be in his presence for a few hours, but staying here in the winter cottage for two full days, from 24 to 25 – your friend group is expecting a lot from you.

It’s always been like this and you don’t even know why you can stand him, even though the feeling is mutual. Something about his behaviour, the general tone in his voice makes you want to jump and lets shivers run down your spine. Besides that, Minho uses every chance he gets to tease you or even make fun of you, being all so surprised once you return those approaches with the same spite.

The worst thing, however, is that he’s incredibly attractive. You can’t deny that. After all you have two eyes located in your head and you’d be a liar to deny his attractiveness.

There’s just something about him – the way his face looks without any tension in his muscles, that makes you swoon. Never in even a hundred years would you admit that. You’re sure, Minho would turn all this into a joke.

And that’s when you’re back to hating him again, once you get reminded of his persona. But ruining the mood is the last thing you want, so you decide to endure Minho and not engage in any of his bickering.

Easier said than done, especially when Felix asks you to join them in their afternoon baking session and you really want to but once Minho shoots you a glare, rolling his eyes so obviously, you decline.

“I’ll see what the others are up to, have fun.”

So, instead, you now approach your best friend Jisung in the living room. He’s focused on winning a race against Changbin and the first place is within reach – until the latter throws a blue shell on Yoshi aka Jisung. The younger one grunts, trying to suppress a few expletives since he notices you’re now sitting on the couch as well.

“Y/N, you should play with us once we start a new round,” Changbin offers. You’re not as close with him as you are with Jisung, but Changbin is your brother’s best friend. Your brother who called in sick today, unable to join the group. But Changbin makes up for it, filling every room with his good mood, as if it’s contagious.

“Alright,” you reply, grabbing a controller. Scooted between the two boys now, you give your best to show off your skills – Jisung and Changbin must have forgotten how much of a pro you are when it comes to Mario Kart. Back in the high school days, the two of them and your brother used to play this game all day, especially during the winter holidays.

You’re a bit sad now, he’s not with you today but also a bit relieved. You could swear, both Changbin and Jisung have been behaving a bit differently since they found out but you don’t want to read too much into it. It’s just that they seem to seek your attention but it’s probably due to making you feel comfortable despite being around all the other guys, especially since you’re not that close to all of them.

There’s Minho, we’ve analysed this already. But the fact they decided to invite Hyunjin as well leaves a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. You haven’t seen him in weeks or to be more specific – since the both of you broke up. But you’ve promised your friend group the weird tension between the tall one and you won’t have an effect on the group dynamic, that’s the last thing you want.

Then, another person you’re not that close to is Jeongin. He’s the best friend of Seungmin – your neighbour and the owner of this little retreat cottage – so it is understandable he invited him. Jeongin is much of a shy, introverted boy and you can’t read him yet. But he still seems nice judging from what you’ve heard and the few little chit chats you’ve shared.

“A blue shell again?! Dude–“ Jisung let’s out in annoyance, when Changbin shoots the item at him, making Jisung’s car fall off the rainbow. The elder chuckles and you join him. It’s always so much fun and way too easy to tease Jisung.

Once the two boys get into a fight about slipping on each other’s banana peels, they get less and less aware how you’re secretly winning this race. Severely annoyed about your skills now – it’s the fourth track you’re winning in a row – they decide to play another game you’re not as interested in anymore.

“Does anyone want some mulled wine?” Chan asks, when he approaches the living room.

“Yes, please, I need it,” you say, already standing on your feet again as you follow Chan in the kitchen. He’s the one you’ve known the longest, since the both of you grew up in the same neighbourhood. With your mother’s being childhood friends it had been predictable that you both were destined to become the same.

“You alright, angel?” Chan asks, making sure you’re comfortable like he always does.

“Yeah– don’t worry, I’m just a bit… confused how to act around Hyunjin, you know?”

If there’s someone in this group who knows you best, it’s Chan for sure. Even though on this day, you would consider Jisung your closest friend, Chan still knows you best, going through thick and thin throughout your life. He’s like your other half, already reading based on your expression that something is wrong, when you don’t even realise it yet.

“It was a bad idea inviting him, wasn’t it? I wanted to convince the others not to do it but–“

“No, no. Honestly it’s like part of totally getting over him, you know? And apart from that I don’t want to drive a wedge between the group and us.”

Your friend nods, softly stroking your back with his fingers and your breath hitches for a second. Chan has always been very touchy and it’s always been normal, nothing wrong about it. It still is but for some reason it makes your head spin today – possibly because you’re talking about an intimate topic, something your heart is too close to, that makes you vulnerable.

“Red, rosé or white?” Chan asks, grabbing a glas that will withstand the heat from the upper cabinet.

“Wow, what a variety. I’d like the white wine.”

Felix and Minho are still busy in another part of the spacious kitchen, totally in their own world, talking about different pastries or something. Luckily, the latter hasn’t noticed you yet.

Chan pours the steaming hot liquid into the glass, before he gently hands it to you. “Be careful,” he adds. You slightly nod, cooling the wine by blowing some air at the surface, until it’s possible to take a sip from it. Both the temperature and alcohol help your body to heat up even though it’s cosy enough in the cottage anyway.

“I will get the snacks ready,” Seungmin announces when he enters the kitchen, half of the guests now gathered here. Once Minho turns around he shoots an annoyed glare your way but you decide to ignore it. In the corner of your eye you witness Chan shaking his head at the childish behaviour but he doesn’t push further.

“Chan and Jeongin, could you perhaps get the dinner ready?” The owner of the house adds, before he turns around to you. “Y/N, you can prepare the table with– oh, sorry. I already assigned Hyunjin with that task but I can just switch with you and–“

“No, no. It’s fine, don’t worry,” you reply, watching Seungmin’s face blush in a pretty shade of red because of the little mistake he made when he carefully planned this evening. Not carefully enough.

“No– really we can–“

“Minnie, it’s okay. We’re both able to be in a room together, okay?”

Seungmin nods, whilst feeling his face heat up even more when he notices the nickname you use. Your neighbour has always had a weak spot for you since he met you for the first time. He can still recall it – over a year ago, when you moved into the empty and unoccupied room in Felix’s apartment on a snowy winter afternoon.

He helped you carry all your boxes upstairs back then and since he’s always been close to your roommate, it’s not rare for him to visit you or invite the both of you over. You’d consider him a friend – maybe not on the same level as Felix, Jisung, Changbin and certainly not Chan, but he’s fun to be around. Maybe a little shy in the beginning but he’s got the best random and most sudden punchlines up his sleeve, always managing to make the whole group laugh.

Besides that, he’s a good soul. A true good soul, offering all of you to stay at his family’s winter cottage in the woods, close to the mountains and planning the whole holiday – the second time in a row. You’ll be forever grateful for this, which is another reason you just comply and join Hyunjin in the living room, who’s already busy preparing the table.

For a solid five minutes neither of you talk, even though your ex boyfriend gives you a warm smile from time to time – just a small gesture to approach you or at least make the situation less awkward. Until you witness him bite his plump lips – a habit he’s always had and a sign he’s contemplating what to do next.

“How are you?” It’s so sudden but it’s not sudden at all. The tension is thick, so thick you’re sure you could cut it with the knife Chan is currently using in the kitchen to prepare the vegetables and meat.

“Fine, really. What about you?”

It’s been weeks since the both of you spoke and whenever you look into Hyunjin’s dark eyes again, you’re immediately hit with a rush of sadness, nostalgia and hope. A weird combination it is. But it’s the best way to describe what his presence awakens inside of you.

“Yeah, okay. I’m okay. How’s your job? Did you get the promotion?”

The casual talk feels good. It keeps you distracted from the reason your long term relationship has ended and you’re glad to think of something else for once, when you look into his eyes.

“No– I didn’t. They actually fired a lot of employees due to increasing prices and taxes and all. I’m glad I was able to stay there.”

Hyunjin nods, surprised and you can see the sincere empathy on his face. He’s encouraged you a lot when the both of you still were together and he’d have continued if you hadn’t cut off the contact. But now, almost one and a half months later, he knows it’s what the both of you need to maybe develop a stable platonic relationship again.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Maybe it’ll work out some other time.”

That’s when the conversation dies out after, but it’s not awkward in the slightest. You’re both busy preparing the bowls, plates and cutlery anyway, waiting for Chan and Jeongin to bring the meals to the table. A few minutes later, everything is served and the whole group gathers around the delicious scent, ready to eat.

You’re granted with the dishes of the year, really. Chan has always been quite famous when it comes to his cooking skills, even at a young age of a preteen he was interested in trying out different kinds of foods already. But you haven’t been aware of Jeongin’s secret talent and it makes you eager to learn more about him.

He really seems like a pleasant person, especially when the both of you are engaged in a conversation, sitting across from each other.

“You haven’t watched the movie?” The youngest asks. His eyes are filled with hope and he looks so adorable. He’s got the right amount of cuteness in his persona but something tells you that’s not all there is and you’re dying to find out more about the stranger that happens to be your neighbour’s friend.

“No, not yet. But it’s on Netflix, so maybe after dinner…”

“We definitely should– guys can you believe–“

“We know, Innie,” Jisung says, “we’ve been trying to convince Y/N to watch it with us for the past years and it’s a miracle you didn’t even have to put effort in it.”

That is true. Usually, you’re not in the mood to watch movies except for the ones you’ve seen a million times before. It’s just exhausting these days, focusing on something for more than twenty minutes.

“Maybe she’s interested in our maknae,” Changbin teases from the other side, sending a seductive glance in your direction, his eyebrows wiggling in a way that turns the whole situation into a joke. You scoff and roll your eyes at the assumption.

When you’re done with that, you witness two sad looks from the other end of the table – both Hyunjin’s and Chan’s posture shrinks at the thesis which your brother’s best friend has thrown into the middle of the room. You get that it irritates your ex boyfriend – but Chan? It’s probably just his protective nature again, not wanting anyone to make you feel bad or embarrassed.

“Let’s just watch the movie, shall we?”

And thats how you find your big group gathered around in front of the TV. Felix joins you on your left, cuddled together underneath a soft blanket. The other side is occupied by Jisung and Changbin and you already curse yourself for choosing that specific spot, knowing the both will be unable to shut their mouths for more than ten seconds.

Chan is still looking a bit confused but he’s chosen a cosy spot in front of you, kinda huddling against your lower legs. From time to time, he sneaks his palm in your direction – non-verbally asking for snacks like a dad would do on a long car drive.

The movie starts and the plot catches your attention within the first few scenes – a rather rare matter. Usually, it’s hard for you to get into them and you curse yourself for not watching this one earlier.

“I’ve told you so,” Jisung whispers in your ear and it lets shivers run down your spine – the good kind. It’s nothing new, being so close to him. After all, you’ve been best friends since the last year of high school but you blame it both on the wine and the atmosphere that his sheer presence irritates you – in a good way.

All while Felix is snuggled up on your other side, his fingers entangled in your own. Since you’re both roommates, you tend to do movie (or rather Netflix or Anime) nights quite often. He’s by far the most touch starved friend of yours, always looking for excuses to be near you but you’ve always understood it as a way of showing his platonic affection for you.

“Do you enjoy it?” He asks and you nod, squeezing his hand tight. His other arm embraces you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. But his next words make your breath hitch and you could swear your heart beat performs a double-time flow for a few bars.

“You look really pretty tonight.”

Instantly feeling your face heat up, you just smile and thank him for the compliment, unable to reply something else. Of course, you’ve viewed Felix in a far from friendship light before – after all you are roommates (quoting the famous vine here). But that’s all there is. Sure, he’s obviously attractive but you wouldn’t risk your cosy home because of an impulsive decision.

You try to push the thoughts aside and concentrate on the movie in front of you instead, until the next one of your friends decides to give it a shot. What is going on with the boys tonight?!

“You know,” Changbin starts, still sitting on your right, but speaking at a volume the others aren’t able to hear, “I’m glad your brother didn’t attend the party. It makes it easier for me to approach you.”

You gulp down the lump that has been built in your throat, feeling your heart racing at an even faster speed than the one you used at the Mario Kart track earlier. Head spinning and mind absolutely losing it, you slightly tilt your head so you’re able to look at him.

“Is that so?” The sudden confidence of yours surprises you.

“Hm, I’d love to spend more time with you.”

You don’t answer right away but that’s not a problem to your brother’s best friend at all – Changbin’s intention is to lure you with a few words, a simple phrase filled with promises and ideas. And even if he wanted to add more, Jisung is the faster one to talk to you now.

“You should have listened to me for once, you know. I knew you’d like the movie. I know what’s good for you, Y/N.”

Is it suddenly forty degrees here or where’s the heat coming from? How are three of your friends simultaneously hitting on you or whatever they’re doing right now? Did they just wait for some quiet time in the cottage? The idea lets your heart pick up its pace even further and you feel yourself overwhelmed, not having expected the evening to take such a turn.

But you’re reading too much into it – Minho, for instance, is still ignoring you like he usually does. What you don’t catch is your so-called enemy ogling you from time to time whenever you don’t look and especially when Felix scoots another centimetre closer to you.

Besides sitting far away from you, Hyunjin shoots a glare in your direction from time to time, thinking he’s not as obvious as he actually is. But you don’t blame him. After all, your eyes always meet, indicating you're looking at him as well.

What does surprise you is Chan being so close to you, apparently turning around from time to time to look at you. It’s suspicious how many times he’s asked for more of your snacks in the past few minutes, earning a playful sentence from Jisung who’s just as busy getting your attention.

At this point you can’t focus on anything happening in the movie anymore and you’ve given up, no idea what’s going on. Luckily, a few minutes later the last scene ends and you tell the others you’ll need a moment, heading towards the bathroom located upstairs.

A splash of cold water helps you stop being so delusional for a second and you would touch some grass if the snow wouldn’t hide the ground outside. Once you’ve toddled down the stairs again, you’re met with the guys still sitting in their previous seats, but a discussion about what to do next has begun.

“Now that we have the whole house to ourselves, do you guys know what we should do?” Jisung giggles, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Seven guys and Y/N– I’ve never expected you to be into gangbangs, Jisung,” Changbin states, quite in shock but partly unserious.

The younger sighs, a bit annoyed his friend is turning his idea into a joke, “No, man, we can play hide and seek in this huge house.”

Men are so easy to impress. You get aware of it once again, when the group turns into a cheering crowd and everyone is getting up from their seats. Now assembled together, you start playing rock, paper, scissors to determine the seeker.

Minho is the lucky one and you hope so dearly he doesn’t find you at the first try. This man turns everything into a big joke that involves you and his ability to defeat you in whatever small game.

“So… should I start?” He asks, as everyone is waiting at the starting line, ready to sprint to a possible hiding place. When Minho positions himself in front of the huge wall in the living room, his eyes hidden behind his palms and his blocked view directed to the stone barrier, his back looking at the group, he starts counting.

Everyone instantly rushes away from the spot, a few giggles erupting through the room.

It’s your first decision to make now, quickly.

Will you sprint up the stairs or stay on the ground floor?

If you enjoyed the story, please consider reblogging it and sharing your thoughts with me! I’d appreciate it a lot! :) You can also buy me a coffee here, if you feel like it. Please don’t ever feel obliged to do so, but I’d highly appreciate it!

TAGLIST: @heelover5 @chimmycupcake @avyskai @chrissybang @svintsandghosts @hwan-g @straywrds @abiaswreck @thisisnotstraight88 @jeyelleohe @skzho @streetlight-s @knowleeknow @septicrebel @staaa96 @myprwttyhan @skzgallll @lotus-dly @bmnyy @scarsnfevers @sstarryoong @abby-grace @acciocriativity @moasworld @janehrt @brit97 @skizzel @kuleo26 @xhazmania

© j-0ne25 2022 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited

[thegreenlynx]

You Need A Hug

Warnings: mental breakdowns, crying, insecurities, being drunk, like really drunk, toxic work environment, not getting a promotion, overworking (if I missed any let me know!)

Hyung Line

Maknae Line

[thegreenlynx]

Limbo (Pride & Eavesdropping) - Hyunjin ver.

Description: In which bsf! Stray Kids find out you are seeing someone else.

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Content Warnings: arguing, reader gets blocked temporarily, saying dumb things you don't mean and getting caught

SS Count: 11

A/N: Want the rest of the Limbo series? Read Here ↴ | I.N | Bangchan | Minsung | Lee Know | Seungmin | Felix |

Fake Text Works

SKZ Works

Taglist: @my-neurodivergent-world @possum-playground @m-325 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts

[thegreenlynx]

Fantasy Dystopian Alt Universe Plot Poll

Human SKZ x Goddess Fem Reader

In a world more brutal and harsh than any lives a mortal man who wants to escape the hellish land Delwright has become. He is too soft, too kind for what is left of it. His light an odd and stark contrast to the darkness plaguing him. He doesn't belong here, it must have been a mix up in the world selection. Surely there's been some kind of mistake, a little slip of casting, perhaps. Truly, they can't have meant to place him here. Could they have?

Delwright is not the only world in the universe you are in charge of. As you work as a goddess alongside several other gods you must manage the widely varying species and life throughout the different worlds in an attempt to create the superior universe. Admittedly, Delwright is your least favorite of the worlds, but it is your duty to manage them all equally.

Assisting points for choosing:

He is someone soft and sweet, someone who naturally wants to help people. But also he can hide it extremely well. This is a dystopian universe, he wouldn't survive not being able to pretend he fits in in the cruel dark world he lives in. He can make himself look the part: cold, careless, harsh.

He really likes animals and mythical creatures. He has a pet magic lizard he's not legally allowed to have and his only friends are other criminal mythical beings he's harboring.

He hates the injustice and cruelness in Delwright and it wears down on him a lot. He wants out.

All other members already have assigned roles so I cannot take other suggestions on this pole.

[thegreenlynx]

bsf!skz react: reader and bf breaking up

a/n: hi hiii >:3 i wanted to post another quick smau before getting into asks, im working on a series rn and im excited for it!!! i hope u all like these smau posts, they’re really fun to edit!! but ofc, i love my monster!skz fics and love posting those <33

pairing: skz x reader (bsf!skz) hyung line! maknae will be posted here :3

warnings: mentions of toxic relationship, pet names, some explicit content (no details, just mentions) (MDNI!), no cheating but like it could be interpreted as that if you squint…?

bang chan;

minho;

changbin;

hyunjin;

a/n: hope you enjoyed!!!! i <3 bsf skz i want them Bad-

also tumblr apparently only allows 30 photos per post... wtf do i do about that? sorry this has to be two parts )):

requests are open! check profile :3

[thegreenlynx]

bsf!skz react: reader and bf breaking up

pairing: skz x reader (bsf!skz) maknae line! hyung is posted here :3

warnings: mentions of toxic relationship, pet names, some explicit content (no details, just mentions) (MDNI!), no cheating but like it could be interpreted as that if you squint…?

jisung;

felix;

seungmin;

jeongin;

a/n: and we’re done!! thank you all sm for showing love to my work btw ((,: it means so much!! i love writing and creating for u all <33

requests are open!! posted in bio :3

[thegreenlynx]

ೀ⋆ RAGE BAITING YOUR BOYFRIEND ! — ( texts 💬 )

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ 𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ ot8 x f!reader ˒˓ established relationship 𝓰enre/𝓽ags. smau, fluff/crack, mild cursing, rage baiting (obviously lol), hanji and lix are so cute in this </3

[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — we back w another silly smau lolll. i feel like i haven’t made an ot8 one in a while and i thought this trend was kinda funny so :p

perm taglist: @justwonder113 @emilyywhyy @min-doesnt-know @alnex05 @velechi @leeknowslefteyebrow @kayleefriedchicken @jeonginsbaee @thelittletobsterthatcould @queenofdumbfuckery @met30rc1ty @geni-627 @amarecerasus @stayar1 @emma-your-goofy-girlfie @n4tr3ad5 @cowboylikemalika @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @skzfangirl143 @mmarusa @myfavoritedelusion @velvetskize @seungmyynie @n-inah @my-neurodivergent-world @yourgirljasmiin @xryusarax @natcap25 @bussdownflockiana @yvessntually @browniesandsunshine @jeonginslittledoll @beal-o @camryn-haitani @hansmic @rhys-cosmos @lilscast @crookedt44th @norabugz @sowntears @sleepisnotneeded2688 @mintchip17 @ilovetocas1 @jellycool @tirena1 @mariahxrrera @kjinwoon @wishiwascutersstuff @ljh-lana @furfoxsake22 (50/50)

[thegreenlynx]

This was really funny ☀︎

CAN I GET YOUR TIP COLOR ON MY NAILS?

ot8 bf! texts

reblogs are appreciated (≧∀≦) !!

a/n ☆彡: hi again 😅 im literally so sorry for always depriving y’all of smaus. i’m always so fucking busy its crazy. i decided to start skz smaus so i hope u enjoy this little freaky smau! i also appreciate the amount of support you guys have given my last smaus, u guys r amazing!!!

warning(s): suggestive, cursing, nsfw!!

HYUNG LINE:

MAKNAE LINE:

[thegreenlynx]

This was super cute, the awkward dynamic was so sweet 🥹❤️

Missed Connections

Pairing: Han Jisung x reader

Genre: fluff, college au

Synopsis: When Han Jisung hears someone singing at his universities practice rooms, he can’t get their voice out of his head and knows he needs them for this song. Problem is he doesn’t know who they are, so he turns to the Internet.

Wc: 1.7k, 2 sc

A/N: Hi everyone! Happy Stay Day! This is my contribution to @starlostastronaut ‘s Stay’s secret gift exchange! I got @www-hanverse for mine 💛 and the prompts I ended up going with were Han, college au, and meet cute! This is also the most I’ve physically written out for this blog as I mostly do texts but I wanted to challenge myself a bit and do a cute little one-shot. Hope y’all enjoy!!! And make sure to check out the other participants of the exchange!

By the time your friend had sent you a screenshot of the post and a

“Don’t you use that room a lot???”

text, it felt like the whole campus must have seen it. Even just looking at the amount of views that post has had you overwhelmed. I mean you’ve never even spoken to the guy And now his hunt for this mystery singer, who just so happened to be you, was the talk of the campus.

So much for staying under the radar, you thought to yourself. You debated simply just never going back to the practice rooms and continue your peaceful routine, minus the singing part that is.

A part of you was curious about this Jisung guy though and what he meant by he wrote a song that “needs your voice.” You spent multiple days sprawled out in your dorm room coming up with as many cons as you could think of to try and silence the part of your mind that wanted to answer that question. On one hand there could be no harm in helping this guy out, but on the other you know nothing about this guy. As far as you know though he could be a creep… With a sigh, staring at your ceiling, you decide to at least meet him and hear him out, if anything just to get this situation off your mind and allow you to focus on your homework with the rapidly approaching deadline.

As you slowly make your way over to the practice rooms, you have to fight the urge to turn back every few minutes. The anxiety builds with every step closer coming to a peak when you spot your now former safe place of practice room four. In that moment it hits you, you don’t even know where you're supposed to meet this Jisung guy. Your eyes dart back and forth between room three and room five. Pulling out your phone to double check his tweet to see if he left any information was less than helpful. Not a single detail about where to find him, “did he even think that part through?” crossed your mind.

Taking a deep breath and as quiet as footsteps as you could make, you approached the doors to get a quick peek trying to use the tiny bit of (what you hoped was) his face from his twitter icon.

Your knock was met with a quick caught off guard “come in!” As you entered you saw the man fumble around with his mess of notebooks, loose papers, and guitar on his lap.

“Hi”, you muttered out nervously, “do you happen to be Jisung?”

“Yeah, that’s me” he responded awkwardly

“I um… saw your post…” you were mentally kicking yourself for not thinking about what you’d actually say. Now you're just standing there nervously fidgeting with your hands, looking around the room trying to avoid making eye contact, your face hot with embarrassment over not knowing what to say.

“Oh! Are you the girl that always practices next door?”

You only nod in response, but with that he gets up hurriedly, almost knocking over a stack of papers in the process “let me clear a space for you to sit!”

You both sit there for a moment in awkward silence, you keeping uncomfortably still and him uncontrollably bouncing his leg.

“Right, um… so the song” he stutters “I’m sorry if you found it weird or anything that I was listening in on you singing and then for you know… posting about it online… but um you really do have a really nice voice and it would be just right for the song”

His rambling was kinda cute and it helped put your mind at ease that he was in fact just as nervous as you are.

“Could you tell me a bit more about the song?”

“Of course! Let me find the lyrics I wrote and then I can show you the beat I have started for it” he said while shuffling through his stacks of papers and multiple notebooks trying to find the exact one. “So anyways, the song isn’t for a class or anything, so no need to worry about anything being graded. It’s just something that I haven’t been able to get out of my head and needed to put out into the world.” He scratches the back of his head while handing you the correct notebook.

You nod your head in acknowledgement of his words as you started to look over the lyrics.

“These are heartbreaking… but like in a beautiful way”, he nods along with your analysis as you look back over the words from the top, until a certain section catches your eye.

“Is this a Nana reference?” you ask after eyeing over a line multiple times.

“It is! You’ve seen Nana?” Jisung asks excitedly with a sparkle in his eyes “It’s one of my favorite animes and it felt right with the melancholy vibe I was going for!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he lit up, “It’s one of mine too, but I definitely wouldn’t have taken you for a shoujo lover.”

“Guys can like romance and slice of life stuff too” jisung responded with almost a slight pout.

“I never said they couldn’t! I was just saying you don’t give off the vibe… though actually if we’re talking Nana you did give off Osaki vibes.”

A slight blush crept up on his face, “where have you been all my life”

“I mean…” he clears his throat, “where have you been around campus, I can’t believe I’ve never seen you before and I thought I knew just about everyone in the music department”

“Oh, um… that’s cause I’m not a music major” you laugh nervously. “I actually don’t know the first proper thing about music, I just enjoy singing as like a hobby.”

Jisung seems a little taken aback by your response. “Well that definitely makes sense as to why I wouldn’t have seen you” he chuckles a little. “But again you do have a really nice voice” he says while avoiding eye contact. “Oh! I still haven’t shown you the beat I have in mind yet.”

The two of you listen to his work together and as you guys work on making changes together the next hour passes by quickly. You guys call it a day after convincing a begrudging Han not to skip his class, but make an agreement to meet back up when you both have a break from your classes.

This kept up for the next few weeks, even after you guys finished working on the song. It seemed as though there was always something new that would bring you back into the practice room next door. Not that you minded, in fact if he didn’t find the excuses to keep you coming by you would have done so yourself. Han and you got along so quickly and you almost find it hard to believe how shy and bumbling he had been the first time the two of you had met, as the friend you know now can be quite loud and rambunctious at times. Though he probably sees you the same way as you were equally nervous at your first meeting.

The more time you spent together with Han, the more you two found you had a lot in common. Your taste in anime being a major one, which had led to the practice room being used just being used to binge a show together instead of working on anything music related. Han once tried to argue that if the show was about music it should count as study material for him and thus was an appropriate use of the room. You disagreed, but weren’t about to say no.

Even after excuses to see each other were no longer needed, you never shook off your initial thought about him being “kinda cute.” Instead the more you got to know him and be around him that feeling grew and the “kinda” was dropped. He was more than cute. He was handsome, he was charming, he was funny, and he was someone you loved being around. Even though you found yourself back in your dorm in a state of contemplation and nervousness, this time was because you knew your new found friend was more than that to you.

When you approached the door with nerves, you were reminded of your first meeting with Han Jisung and how nervous you were to meet that stranger. But it was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made and you just hope to yourself that this goes well. Deep breath you think to yourself as you twist the handle and enter.

As the door opens he immediately looks up at you with a smile that calms your nerves. “Hi y/nnie! I brought some snacks today!” Jisung greeted while lifting up the bag of goodies.

You plopped down next to him and rummaged through the bag before deciding on a treat. As you ate your snack you took a few moments before mustering up the courage to finally ask “Hey Hannie, are you free Saturday night? To go get dinner… as a date?” You felt your heart thump as the word date left your lips and your face felt increasingly warmer.

“Y-yes!” He stammered out quickly as his face reddened. “I mean, yes I’d love to… as a date.”

A moment of silence passed where you both looked each other in the eye before Jisung exclaimed “Gaahhh” he hid his face against his knees “I’m happy you asked, like really happy! But you beat me to it and I had this whole thing planned!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his emotional turmoil. He really was cute especially when he got all pouty like this. “You know, if you play your cards right, you could still stick to your plan and ask me to be your partner since I only asked you on a date.”

“R-right! Then I need to go make sure everything is perfect for when the time comes!” He said as he clumsily stood up and hurried to get his things together.

As he left the room beat red with a smile and a wave, you thought to yourself I’m glad he made that post.

[thegreenlynx]

SKZ Texts: Do you think I could win Squid Game?

boyfriend!SKZ x gn!reader | WC: 10 screenshots

✧ Summary: Your reaction to your boyfriend asking you if he could win Squid Game.

✧ CW: SMAU, pet names, dramatic (mostly Hyunjin lol), a little threatening? (Lee Know and Seungmin). Please let me know if I missed any 💗

✧ A/N: Please ignore the lack of timestamps (except Seungmin) because I couldn't be bothered with them tbh. And the weird emojis since I made it on my pc.

Bang Chan

Lee Know

Changbin & Hyunjin

Han & Felix

Seungmin & I.N

✧ "Support" banner by @cafekitsune, the rest by me ✧

✧ A/N: I saw an old clip of Changbin playing gonggi right after I finished watching Squid Game and it made me think of this. Hope you enjoyed my first SMAU!

✧ Disclaimer: This is purely fictional and does not portray anyone in real life. Fanfiction is fiction.

[thegreenlynx]

Forbidden Love AU Plot Poll Re-Made

Obsessed SKZ ??? x Fem Reader 

You know how he loves you. You can feel it heavy in every step he takes and hear it howling in every breath he breathes. You see it shimmer within the darks of his eyes. You are not his and he is not yours, and yet it is as if his very heart beats for you. As if his soul is so tied to your own he may very well wilt in your absence. There is no place he would not go, no thing he would not do, no phrase he would not say, just to be with you.

Except in this land love is outlawed, it is known to be a poisonous disease that cannot be allowed to taint people's decisions. And now you must deal with the consequences of him not being okay with letting you go. For his love is strong enough to plague you both, even well beyond your dying breath.

This story will have exactly 10 chapters, some will include smut. It's also sorta a tragedy AU and it's very bittersweet.

Okay so I fucked up, this poll was posted earlier but it got posted before it was ready and the duration and options were incorrect. I apologize for any inconvenience but please re-take the poll! Not all members are included because there are some I'm not good at writing and this isn't a oneshot, I still love all of SKZ.

[thegreenlynx]

[thegreenlynx]

My Best Friend's a Pervert - H.JS

Description: Your best friend Jisung is your rock, he's tough and he supports you through everything. He's the most important person in your life and the one you are most comfortable with. He's also a huge pervert, but as always you overlook everything.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Grinding/humping, perversion, dub-con(sorta), Fem Reader with Female anatomy

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: First full Smut posted on this account, based on this poll I did a few days ago. As always likes comments & re-blogs are very appreciated.

The two of you have been best friends for years. He's your rock, your strong pillar that holds you up when things get hard. You spend so much of your time together that everyone thinks you're dating. He's always there to take care of you, he spoils you rotten and when he's around you never need to worry about anything.

He's normally so collected, so stable. He is in control, he has everything under control. He keeps the staring to a minimum. He doesn't push you, he stays within the boundaries he ought to as a friend. He allows you to cuddle with him and goof off the way you always do, never letting the darker parts of him take over when you do. He never takes advantage of your comfort with him. But today he just can't be that man.

The day started off rough. The whole week he's been overworked, his family won't stop hounding him about getting a girlfriend and visiting for an upcoming holiday he doesn't care about. And probably worst of all, you've begun coming over to his place and stealing his clothes when you hang out. You say it's more comfortable, he loses a little part of his self control to the wind every time.

It also doesn't help that just last night his stupid roommate Minho decided to tell you that you look hot in Jisung's clothes. You blushed so sweetly at the compliment but Jisung knows his hyung wasn't flirting with you. Not genuinely anyway, he was flirting with you on Jisung's behalf. Riling him up. Teasing him.

He's a cruel man.

Which brings Jisung to the current moment. He closes the door behind you as you enter the house, he kicks off his shoes as he watches you send a casual wave to Minho who leans lazily against the counter. The dark haired man smirks and ushers you over with a single finger and Jisung only narrows his eyes with clenching fists when you prance over to him with light steps and let him feed you a cookie. Minho treats you like you're his cat. 

The sight is adorable really, the older man laughs with sparkling eyes and ruffles your hair and you giggle at him and step on his foot. On purpose he figures. Minho retaliates with a tickle attack that has your beautiful laughter echoing through the room. Melodic, cheerful, utterly carefree. It should make him happy to see the two of you getting along, normally it would too. He's not even a jealous guy. But today it just pisses him off.

He rolls his eyes and comes over to grab your wrist and drag you off. You let him but turn around slightly as you're pulled off. Minho laughs again, the playful glint in his eye never leaving, and feeds you one more cookie before patting you softly on the rear in an odd but comfortable silent goodbye.

When you enter the room Jisung runs his other hand through his hair and sighs. You let go and give him space, moving to his closet and digging around for one of his white over sized t-shirts. When you find it you smile giddily and throw it over his desk chair, peeling off your attire as you turn away from your best friend.

It shouldn't even phase him anymore. You're so comfortable with him he might as well be your brother. The thought disgusts him. He tries not to watch you undress to your pretty red lace panties, but finds himself admiring the way you pull his t-shirt over your head and hug it to yourself as you walk towards the bed.

He walks up behind you mostly in a daze, his head is empty of everything but you. The shirt barely covers your ass as you crawl onto the bed in front of him. He stands behind you watching your ass sway in your panties while you crawl. Intrusive thoughts seem to take over in that moment and he lands a rather harsh slap against the right cheek, unconsciously smiling to himself as he hears the loud clap followed by a small sweet yelp.

He wouldn't even be mad if you turned around and slapped his perverted ass right in the face. However instead of putting him in his place like you probably should have, you simply giggle softly and roll over on your back with your knees bent smiling up at him innocently.

Despite him knowing full well this is normal for you, that you mean nothing by it other than being comfortable around him and that it's probably entirely a platonic thing, It makes for a very lewd sight as you lay directly in front of him enticingly.

He knows how wrong it is to be thinking of his friend this way, he knows very well you are definitely NOT thinking any dirty thoughts during your hang outs with him, and it makes him feel like a criminal. He is definitely breaking at least 20 friend codes with the way he's gazing at your body right now.

Your legs are spread and the shirt has risen up, exposing all too much of your pretty curves and the delicate lace fabric that compliments your body so well. Your back is slightly arched off the mattress, displaying so clearly the prominent indent of your waist and the soft voluptuous curves of your hips and thighs.

He wants to touch you so bad he considers he may actually need therapy. Your arms are lying defensively down on the mattress, and he knows you probably wouldn't fight him if he did decide to touch you. The way that turns him on makes him feel disgusting.

He does give in slightly, only enough to where he knows you'll be too oblivious to take it any way but platonically, after-all you've always been a cuddly pair. You don't have to know what he's actually thinking in his head, nor the way it goes straight to his dick, you don't need to know how foggy you make his head feel.

He climbs slowly on top of you, your legs on either side of his as his face hovers above yours. His hands instinctively slide up your legs and to your waist, he squeezes the skin there and relishes in the soft feeling in his hands and the way your back arches slightly further off the bed while you unconsciously spread your legs a bit further with a small gasp. You're sensitive, it makes him smile as his thoughts stray even farther into the depths of hell and insanity, he really hates himself.

He'd probably feel a lot less disgusting if you weren't so innocent with things like this, the difference between your innocence and his makes him feel like he's taking advantage of you, perhaps also your friendship as a whole. Of course he doesn't only see you sexually, you're still one of his best friends. He still loves you like he never thought he could another person.

But you don't know this, you don't feel the same, it feels wrong. He feels like a sinner in church when he's alone with you. While you think of this as a cute little cuddle sesh with your bestie, he's desperately trying not to imagine digging his nails into your hips and slamming you further into the mattress or perhaps kissing you breathless while he lifts your shirt up and gropes you like a madman. He feels himself harden to an extent of borderline agony in his sweats at the thought.

He IS disgusting, knows this, and wishes he had more control over his thoughts and feelings than he currently does.

You're still looking up at him with a silly smile on your face, clearly entirely oblivious to everything as always. He relaxes (or tries to anyway), resting both hands on either side of your hips while he lays his head down on your chest. He takes comfort in the large plush swells he feels through the fabric. He feels a headache coming on at the lack of bra when he feels a nipple against the side of his face. The world just fucking hates him today. He can't even help the longing (read: desperate and pathetic) sigh that falls from his lips.

Of course you take it as he's just tired or stressed and not that he is trying really hard not to thrust his boner against your thigh in desperation like some kind of dog. He's so ashamed he genuinely wants to cry and has to bite back what he knows would be a rather pathetic and entirely humiliating whimper. However despite this (or maybe in spite of this, really) your gentle fingers lace through his hair, petting him so softly it would make anyone feel like they're precious.

He does take comfort in it. He loves having his hair played with, it makes him feel safe. He just wishes he didn't also think about how it'd feel to have you tugging at his hair in this exact position but a far different context. He hates the way he throbs in his pants, hates how pathetic he is and how much it hurts. He hates even more that he also kinda likes how it hurts, how you've got him so desperately wrapped around your finger, how you somehow manage to edge him without even being aware of it. Masochistic tendencies are not below him, apparently.

You giggle again, bringing your other hand up to rub his back. "Rough day?" Your voice drips of affection and honey and he almost melts, almost.

Instead he groans and huffs an irritated "hmph." His voice comes out raspy and deeper than usual, likely from the strain in his pants. He slides his hands back up to your waist and grips you harshly while turning his head to bury his face in between your breasts, shaking his head between them. His hair tumbles around on his head as he does it and you giggle again.

From your perspective it probably looked like an adorable gesture but from his it was anything but. He wants to rip your shirt off. He's so painfully hard and frustrated by the fact that he can't do all the things he wants to do. He wishes he could actually feel the skin of your breasts.

Their size is all too tempting and based off the parts of her body he has felt, he knows they would be incredibly soft and squishy. So impossibly smooth he is not sure he would be able to let go of them, perhaps it's good that you have him in the friend zone and he can't actually do that. Which is why he takes what he can get and nuzzles against them through the fabric like a kitten might, eyes glossing over even further with unrelenting lust.

You hum and seemingly in retaliation for the harsh grip still on your waist, you remove your hand from his head and tickle his side much like Minho had to you not even half an hour prior.

He supposes it's a fair punishment really. His grip is so hard he knows it's going to bruise, he will never admit that he really hopes it does, that even in a platonic sense he can mark you. Not only that but there's also no way it doesn't hurt by now. He has a tendency to grab you like this, usually unconsciously, but he's normally not this rough with it.

And well, he's incredibly ticklish. Like unbearably so. In fact he's so ticklish his immediate response to your tickling is to remove his hands from your waist and grab both of yours. He breathes heavily as he slams them above your head on the mattress, his face is now directly in front of yours and his glare is strong as he gazes into your eyes. In truth he loves the sight, and even as he glares at you he takes in the lovely view and commits it to memory. Jack-off fuel for at least a month.

You play around like this very often, Jisung has never once been genuinely angry with you nor does he typically react the way he just did. His mind is clouded with arousal and the ache in his pants in combination with the desperation he feels has genuinely ticked him off even further than his general frustration from earlier somehow.

You still don't react much other than a small gasp and the briefest moment of shock in your eyes before it shifts to simply gazing sympathetically back at his heated glare. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were that stressed out."

He feels even more annoyed with you apologizing when he's so very obviously the problem here. You make no move to get him to release you either and he hates and loves how you always let him do what he wants with you. Never being weirded out with it and always accepting him as he is, all his flaws included.

He goes to say it isn't your fault, grip not loosening in the slightest but the glare softens as he furrows his brows. "Y/n no... I-"

However, he's interrupted by the door swinging open all too casually. You both look over to see Minho standing in the doorway in complete horror. "Oh.. oh my god. Oh my god no. Shit. I'm sorry!" His face is bright red trailing all the way from his neck to the tips of his ears as he covers his eyes and swiftly turns around, slamming the door behind him. 

Jisung feels his own blush creep up his face. Even if you aren't actually doing anything this position and your prominent lack of dress is bound to give off a heavily sexual impression, he knows this well. And that in combination with the fact that he has been sporting the most raging hard boner of his life this entire time is so humiliating he thinks he actually will cry this time. His own lingering frustrations and the fact that he still has to fight the urge to grind his hips against you don't help either, and he feels even more pathetic with how easily his eyes well up with tears.

His lip trembles slightly as he goes to pull away from you, face beet red and eyes glossy with unshed tears. "Mm so sorry.. h-he definitely thinks w-we're.." He sniffles and hangs his head as he goes to move completely off the bed. You are faster and immediately stop him however, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him back into yourself. Your thighs are flush against him and the softness brings him a small sense of relief in combination with even more arousal and he can't hold back the whimper this time. Both emotional and horny, he is so overwhelmed he can't think straight.

You guide his head back into your chest and he all too eagerly wiggles his face back between your breasts with a whine and what almost sounds like a sob. He realizes he is actually full on crying now, tears soaking through the fabric of the thin t-shirt you're wearing. He is embarrassed of course, but simply can't help but let it all out when your magic hands find their way back into his hair.

You massage his scalp with a calculated care that forms goosebumps all along his neck and arms. His chest swells, his stomach tickles with an absurd amount of butterflies, and his dick twitches again in his sweats all at once. He feels a little less pathetic at the more relieved and now muffled whimper he lets out this time.

"It's okay Sungie.. I'm not upset, I can explain it to him later if you want me to." He whimpers and sobs sadly in response, gripping tightly back onto your waist as a way to ground himself enough to speak.

Even so, his mouth and brain refuse to cooperate with him and he only mumbles incoherently. "B-but I.. he.. mm.... I-I don't.." You tug lightly at his hair, not hard enough to hurt but enough to get his attention. He wishes he was prepared enough to stop the loud whine that rumbles all the way through his body.

"Shh.. Relax bub, we can talk about it later, it's not a big deal." You run a hand up and down his spine while the other continues massaging his scalp. Jisung shifts uncomfortably and slides his hands down your sides, subtly memorizing the curvature of your body. He grabs your thighs, sliding you up the bed so he can properly lay on top of you. Your legs remain wrapped around his waist as he nuzzles further into your chest. The shirt is so soaked with tears that in certain places on your chest it has become see through, he nudges the plush of one breast with his nose with a sniffle and watches in awe as it jiggles at even the smallest movement. He whines and thrusts his aching cock against the mattress below you, overwhelmed by how much he wants to suck on your skin. Like a drug that might fix all his troubles and cure him of his frustrations.

You still don't seem to notice his behavior is anything but sweet and friendly, laughing softly at how cute he is. Completely unaware that even with all of this he is STILL so thoroughly mind fucked with arousal, mind swarming with nasty thoughts and daydreams. This ignorance encourages him to venture a bit further, testing the boundaries of what you will enable him to do to you. Too overwhelmed, turned on, humiliated, and turned on by being humiliated to think rationally enough to stop himself.

He groans. It's loud and very obviously sexual, even if your naive self will never pick up on it. It's deep from the bottom of his throat and it comes out more of a growl than anything. He's never heard himself make such a noise before in his life. One hand still on your thigh he slides the other hand up slowly, seductively slow. If it wasn't incredibly obvious before it should have been now but alas, you don't pick up on a thing even as his hand slides up to your hip. It slows to a brief stop, sliding a thumb under the strap of your panties as the other fingers wrap around your hip.

He's no longer actively crying but still sensitive and in a very whiny mood, if you pull away he will break down again and he knows this. His eyes are once again glossed over with arousal even with his face drenched in tears and he wets his bottom lip before subtly sinking his teeth into it to maintain whatever little self control he has left that's keeping him from tearing the panties off you right this second. Instead he pulls the panty string away from your skin a small distance, relishing in the small view of the hip bone it was doing a terrible job of hiding. He lets go with a mischievous smirk, enjoying very thoroughly the way your body jerks slightly and you gasp at the snap.

You only pull his hair a little in retaliation this time, not trying to upset him or cause him to spiral any further, but just enough to demonstrate your acknowledging what you think is him playfully trying to cheer himself up. He whimpers again, loving the feeling of your hands on him even if it isn't sexual or romantic to you, it definitely is to him. His masochistic ways love the way it stings for the briefest of seconds when you pull his hair. Your actions only serve to spur him on even further. His hands are tantalizingly slow as he glides them up your waist, sliding the shirt to bunch up just below your breasts.

You shiver as he runs a nail along the curve of your waist. He happily observes it with an endeared smile while taking in the bruises forming at your waist and hips. He loves how his hands are imprinted into your skin, thinks that's how it should always be. He lets his mind imagine what you'd look like with bruises from both his hands and mouth on your neck and chest as well. His sigh is shaky as his dick twitches again against the fabric of his pants.

He leans back, hands still on your waist, and observes you from above. You're beautiful as always, and your expression holds no discomfort with his actions. You smile at him sweetly while your hands drop to either side of you. You look so vulnerable like this, practically trapped, so easy to pin down. He bites his lip harder now, taking in such an attractive sight. No other woman could make him feel this way. He's sure of that much.

He decides not to pin you down again for now, favoring the idea of getting his hands even just a little closer to the beautiful, perfectly rounded swells he has become rather obsessed with. No one had to know how much he thought about your chest, nor the way he stared when you weren't looking. The way he imagined what they would feel like gripped in his hands or on his lips, the way he imagined what they would look like had he somehow been graced with the privilege of not having god damn clothing in the way.

But whether anyone knew or not, all of it was true. He was obsessed, in truth he never felt that attracted to other women's breasts not to mention the straight undeterred obsession he feels for yours. Never before had he even been interested in other women, he can't help but wonder why that is.

He's careful and slow, hesitant as he slides his hands up slightly to rest with the bunch of the shirt directly under your breasts. He watches your reaction carefully and slowly slides his fingers over the skin on the side of your breasts, not directly touching them but close enough to almost feel them.

The action lifts the shirt just enough to show the lowest portion of your boobs, nipples still entirely covered. His breathing shakes as he thinks about it, looking into your eyes as you stare patiently back at him. You still make no effort to stop him, only stretching your arms over your head with a pleased hum escaping your beautifully parted lips. He watches entranced as the shirt lifts the tiniest bit higher in your stretch. Your back arches fully and your body curves in the most enticing way he has ever seen, he groans as your chest pushes up with the arch. Your breasts perfectly shaped and so much easier to see with the new angle.

You smile guilelessly, gently as your hands remain above your head softly caressing his silk sheets. Your body is curved for him so perfectly he has to fight the urge to kiss every inch of your skin to worship the absolute goddess you most definitely have to be. He can't resist however the subtle thrust of his hips towards you. He manages enough restraint to not let his dick touch you but his hardened length now dripping with precum is so painfully obvious in his grey sweatpants. If you notice this, you don't show it and stay smiling sweetly at him.

His dick is so close to where he feels it belongs that it makes him feel crazy. His fingers unconsciously wrap around the bunch of your shirt and he tugs. "Please.." His voice is soft, a pleading whine as his mind has finally crossed the border into submissive pussy-drunk arousal. At this point he is so hooked and out of it you could literally step on him and he'd still moan. "Please y/n.. please" The desperation in his last word makes it sound like if you say no he'll not only start crying again but he might just keel over and die.

Your expression is shocked at first, but then quickly morphs into a deep concern. He was normally so strong and now he was falling apart in front of you (for you, really, but you still don't see it that way). "Baby it's okay, you're okay." Your voice is the softest it's ever been, you bring your hands up to wipe the tears from his face. "I'm right here bubs, whatever you need. I just want you to feel better." He whines and grinds his hips in the air again while rubbing his face against one of your hands. He inhales deeply to calm himself down slightly, breathing in your comforting scent.

He then gently and hesitantly begins lifting your shirt up. Your breath hitches at the cold air assaulting your nipples but you allow him to expose your body to his yearning eyes. As soon as your hardened nipples come into view he can't stop the thrust of his hips against your clothed pussy. He whines and whimpers pitifully as he gently rocks his hips back and forth against you. His eyes roll back slightly and he moans as soon as he lifts the shirt from over your head, throwing it across the room. You gasp and look up at him in shock.

With his hips still subtly rocking against you he moves his hands to grip both of your breasts. He moans loudly and groans at the way your soft breasts feel in his hands. Even better than he had imagined, he may very well become addicted. Your breathing has gone ragged, gasps escaping your lips each time his fingers graze your nipples. He growls, loving having you react to his touches. He pinches one nipple between his fingers and toys with it, observing the way you squirm on his sheets. He twists and you yelp, not pained but surprised. The sound is so arousing he groans and dips his head towards the other breast. He continues to play with you while he kisses the swell of your boob. You sigh shakily and unconsciously meet his thrusts with a subtle one of your own.

"Ah.. s-so perfect." He moans, sucking a dark red bruise into your breast. Your whimper is like music to his ears, he wants more. He moves down to your nipple and begins sucking on it happily, he's too out of it to even realize what it is exactly he's doing to his best friend but it feels so good.

His unoccupied hand goes to your thigh pulling you flush against him and relishing in the way you moan at the action. His hand slides back down to your hip, a strong grip holding you to grind against you harder. His moans turn into a string of curses, hips stuttering as he nears his high. His whimpers are full of pain and desperation as he falls apart on you.

"I've got you bub.. you can let go it's okay." You lay a gentle kiss to his head despite the rocking of your bodies as he grinds himself against you, then you gently massage his hair again. He sighs and relaxes in response to your touch, a broken moan escaping him as he comes undone in his sweatpants. His hips continue for a good thirty seconds through incoherent pleas and mumbles of your name against your nipple.

Once he has returned to earth he looks up at you like a kicked puppy, eyes again sparkly and glossed over with more tears as his lip trembles, expression completely fucked out but also lost and confused. He had never looked so vulnerable.

You stop him before he can even begin to apologize. Pulling him closer and cradling him in your arms as he sobs again. "Shh Jisung.. s'okay. I'm here and everything's okay you don't need to think right now. Let's just get you cleaned up and then we can cuddle okay?" He nods hesitantly in your shoulder and nuzzles into your hair. "Good boy, can you roll over for me?" You softly tap his hip to get him to lay on his back.

He does as he's told and looks up at you sadly with tears slowly falling from his eyes, but he tries his best to stay silent as you begin removing his pants. He's embarrassed but also too fucked out to do it himself. "I'll be right back, stay still for me." You walk out and into the bathroom before returning with a warm cloth.

You are careful and gentle as you removes his clothes, avoiding looking anywhere you don't have to in order to avoid embarrassing him any further. You then gently wipe him off, trying not to let yourself falter at his pained cries and whimpers of overstimulation.

Feeling you take care of him makes him feel safe and loved despite all of the mess that today has brought. However, he would also be lying if he said he didn't actually enjoy the way your touches hurt and overwhelmed him. He buries his desire for more and tries his best to simply be grateful for the amount you just gave him, when he totally deserved to be kicked right in the crotch for being a pathetic horny man who wants his best friend to ruin him.

You remove his shirt too, he isn't sure why really, he knows it isn't dirty. You then walk off to his closet and grab two of his baggy comfort tees and a pair of boxers from his drawer. He stays sniffling with a pout on his lips on the bed and doesn't even try to hide the way he watches your ass when you walk away, nor does he try to be subtle about checking out your lace panties and the way your boobs bounce as you walk back towards him.

He sighs content as you slide the comfy tee over his head and he raises his hips to help you with his underwear. He takes the other shirt from you and puts it gently on the bed before looking up at you and burying his face against your stomach as more tears fall from his eyes.

He's full on shaking now and he isn't exactly sure why. Nothing makes sense to him right now, his head feels funny, he's tired, mad at himself, embarrassed, ashamed, afraid, he has a head ache, he's dizzy. He's never felt so overwhelmed in his entire life. His arms wrap tightly around your body and he shakes with more sobs, body wracked with pent up frustration even his climax couldn't free him from. He can't even breathe.

"Baby.. please lay down Sungie.. please lay down for me." He chokes on a sob and gasps for air, whining as he forces himself to pull away and lay down like you tell him to. You grab the t-shirt from the bed and set it on the nightstand by his bed for later, picking up on the fact that he wanted it to stay off for now, whatever the reason may be.

He immediately curls into a ball sniffling, so fragile he may shatter if you aren't careful and you grab his favorite blanket from the side of the bed and drape it over him. You climb under it with him and he immediately sobs again and pulls you into him, desperately trying to be as close to you as possible. He knows how pathetic he must look but he can't help it. He's overwhelmed and so scared of losing you that he's now having a panic attack.

"Jisung.. You're scaring me, what's going on?" He starts hyperventilating at that, not wanting to have to explain his feelings for you, or why he did the things he just did, or how hard it is to be around you when you're.. well.. you. He doesn't want to have to say he's crazy about you, that he wants you to be his, that every little moment you share means so much more to him then it ever will to you, that every little seductive act you unconsciously make is agonizing to him. He doesn't even want to have to tell you about how work is stressing him out, about how tired he is. He doesn't wanna tell you that you're the only thing that makes it better, that you make everything better, and he simply cannot think straight with you around. That he doesn't even want to.

"I'm sorry baby, you don't have to tell me. I'm so sorry, breathe for me please. It's okay I'm right here, I'll take care of you." You rub his back and allow him to rest his head on top of your chest again. It's a comforting pillow and your hands, he swears they have healing powers, the way they make everything feel okay.

He gasps for air and tries to regulate his breathing. Holding your other hand up to his lips, his voice is hoarse and broken when he speaks. "Please.. Please d-don't leave.. Don't leave me.." His lips kiss your knuckles as he talks. He isn't opposed to begging for forgiveness and dropping on his knees to plead you to stay if it comes down to it.

"I'm not going anywhere, would never leave you bub." You kiss the top of his head and snuggle against him, tightly holding him close as you try to convey the truth in your words through your body. "Never."

"Really?" He looks up at you with sparkly sweet eyes, sensitive and wavering.

"Yes Hannie, would never leave you. You're irreplaceable to me, I love you."

He gasps, even though there's no evidence you mean it any way but platonically, he is taken off guard by the fact that you have never said those words to him in a format that wasn't a joke. For once he chooses not to overthink it, no matter how you mean it, he's happy.

He smiles brightly at you, the child like grin you've grown to love returning. "I love you too y/n"

You smile at him softly before pulling him back down into your chest, there you both fall asleep for the night. You, naked except for your panties under the blanket with marks littering various parts of your skin and him, almost fully clothed wrapped up tightly in your arms as if maybe you could shield him from every hardship of the world with your arms alone.

SKZ Works

Taglist: @my-neurodivergent-world