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theysaidhush · 1 month

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Already said that but needy!Jisung is my favourite kind of Jisung 🤭

Needy Mutts

Pairing: Han + F Reader + Chan

Genre: SMUT

Warnings: Puppy play, exhibitionism, voyeurism, Dom Chris, Puppy Switch Sungie, double creampie, cum eating, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), hair pulling, marking, filthy dirty talk, some degradation, lots of praise, gets gentle in the end then is filthy again, slight dub con in the beginning? (established dynamic), mention of nipple play maybe?

Word Count: 2570

Summary: FILTHY Puppies jisung and Reader put on a show for their Daddy.

He couldn’t resist. You were laying on the floor scrolling through apps on your phone, completely unaware of Jisung's eyes devouring you. The underwear you had on was clinging to the outline of your pussy, highlighting your puffy lips and before he could stop himself, he was reaching out from where he sat against the couch, his arms slipping under your thighs as he move to lay on his tummy, tugging the thin fabric that was covering your core to the side so that he could lick one firm strip along your pretty pussy.

“Sungie! What are you-“

A growl vibrates against the flesh of your ass as his teeth sink into it, warning you to keep quiet and let him do as he pleases. You were the more submissive of the two of you, and he knew you’d do anything he wanted you to when you were unsupervised.

“You looked so good laying there like that.” He mumbles against your skin, lips pressing against every inch he can find. “Practically begging me to take you.”

You whimpered quietly, head falling into your hands as he lapped at your wet cunt in long, languid strokes, nibbling your thighs occasionally. You can’t help but to yelp when his thumb slides down your slit to rub circles at your clit as he continues teasing your hole with his tongue, feeling the muscles spasm as his tongue circles you.

“Daddy wouldn’t be very happy with you right now, would he?” His breath is warm against your pussy and you can only whimper in response, thoughts flooding your head of what Chris would say when he found out you were so easily influenced by Jisungs advances.

He was playing with you, working you up so that he could physically see the way your pussy was dripping for him, new waves of slick coating you just for him to lap them up like he had been lost in the desert for days and you were his oasis.

“Being so good. Letting me play with your little cunt when you know Daddy says we aren’t supposed to do this alone.

“That’s never stopped you before!” You whine with a pout before your eyes are wide, both of your heads whipping toward the door as you hear the distinct squeak of it’s hinges, Chris standing in the door way with an amused smirk on his face as he watches a very brief look of fear, followed by thought before Jisung chooses to dive back in, devouring you like a starved man with his only goal being to make you moan as loud as he could in front of your Owner.

Chris isn’t surprised, shaking his head as he kicks the door closed, slipping out of his coat and making his way to the couch behind where you’re spread on the floor, settling in as he watches the filthy show playing out in front of his eyes.

“Look at my horny little mutts.” He muses to himself, raising an eyebrow when he hears Jisung growl against your cunt. “Couldn’t even go a few hours without getting yourselves in trouble, could you.” It’s not so much a question as it is a statement of the obvious, considering this was a constant occurrence for you two.

Jisung audibly whines against your pussy, aroused by the degrading words of your Dom whilst simultaneously feeling possessive over his favourite plaything. Nobody in their right mind would expect him to keep his needy hands off you when you’re always so ready and eager to please him.

He slips two fingers into your leaking cunt, pressing down against your gspot as he sits up on his calves, rolling his eyes even though the man behind you couldn’t see it. All Chris could see was your hips pressing up to meet Jisungs fingers as you fall over the thin line between needy and desperate, only thinking about your need to be filled.

“What do you expect? Poor puppy is always wet and ready to be fucked. You’re not taking care of her, so I have to do it myself.” His words have a subtle bite to them, his free hand gripping your ass firm enough to make you hiss in pain.

Chris scoffs out a laugh, a dangerous smile tugging at his lips. “You think you’re so tough, don’t you? Think you’re such a stud, hm?” He’s taunting the younger boy, but he knows their true goal is a shared one. To have you falling apart entirely for their pleasure. He was rarely one to punish his pets for being such needy sluts. Truthfully, that’s exactly how he liked them.

“Prove it, then.” He eggs the younger boy on, his own hand slides down his body, connecting with his hard cock over his jeans and moving at an almost painfully slow pace, teasing himself as he palmed his cock through the rough fabric, his lip tugged between his teeth to suppress his groaning. “You have a pretty bitch laid out and desperate for your cock. Show us how much of a stud you are.” His voice has a roughness to it that registers even through the fog clouding your mind and it has you gasping a little louder, Jisung pulling his fingers from your aching pussy so that he can shove them into his own mouth, carefully cleaning them off before he slides them down your back, admiring the way his saliva glistens against your unmarked skin.

“Show me how well you can fuck our needy slut.” Chris puts a little extra emphasis on the degrading word for your benefit and his taunting has the desired effect, Jisung feeling his breath catch in his throat as he tugs his briefs down, Looking back at Chris and holding eye contact as he blindly teases your pussy with the tip of his cock, dragging it up and down your slit to get himself nice and wet before he presses it inside of you slowly, head thrown back against his own will as he feels the way your walls flutter as he sinks into you. He was always a little thicker than you could handle even at his size and you’re gripping at the plush rug that cushions your body against the wooden floor, the slight stretch forcing any remaining thought from your mind so that all that remains is your need to be filled and used by your favourite men.

Jisung doesn’t hesitate to press one of his palms between your shoulders, holding you down as you wriggle to try and get more of him inside you. It truly feels like forever before he’s seated flush against your ass, taking a moment to savour how well you take him in before he begins thrusting into you. He wants to tease you, to take it slow, but he can’t make himself be patient when your cunt is clinging to him, clenching around his length and begging him to pound into you.

He sets just enough of a rhythm to ensure it feels good for you, but his thrust are far from smooth as he fucks into you like he’s never felt pussy before, always losing any semblance of his composure when he has you. It was the only real evidence that he was as desperate and clumsy as you were.

“Feels good, doesn’t it Sungie? Bet she’s so tight around your cock huh? Poor thing. She’s so wet you can barely keep it in.” Chris has his zipper down at this point, cock free from his boxers and standing to attention as he fucks his fist slowly, his grip firm as he tries to mimic the way your cunt grips him when he fucks you.

“You just like watching me use her little cunt.” Jisung spits, trying to stop himself from rambling and failing miserably when he feels and hears how you react, your moans sounding pornographic as you move a hand to your chest to play with one of your nipples. You were so desperate to be touched and it made him cave almost instantly. He lets the words spill out of his mouth uncensored for your pleasure, finding himself eager to make you feel as good as he was feeling in that moment. “You love how fucking filthy she looks when she’s filled with my cum. How nasty it sounds when you finally shove your cock in her once I’m done with her holes. Fuck. Daddy. She’s so fucking wet. Feels too good. God. Need to ruin her. Please”

Both men are groaning, moans flowing freely from each one of you as you’re fucked dumb on Jisungs pretty cock, Chris moving from the couch to kneel in front of you, your tongue lolling out of your mouth when you see his cock in all it’s glory right at the perfect level for you to take it into your mouth. You knew better, of course, and would never dare to touch his cock without his permission.

“I think she wants you to ruin her, Sungie.” He coos, petting your hair gently before his fingers grab a handful. He’s only holding your head still, not tugging at all as he taps the head of his cock against your tongue, smiling sweetly as your drool for him, spit dripping down onto the carpet. You’re so fucked out at this point that you’re thanking them for being so good to you, grateful for their undivided attention.

“Dumb puppy likes to be fucked full, don’t you baby? Does it make you feel good when Sungie uses you like you’re a worthless toy? You like being our pretty fleshlight?” You try desperately to nod but the grip on your hair prevents movement and you can’t speak to answer when Chris is pressing his cock into your mouth.

“That’s our good puppy.” His voice is proud as he holds you still, not moving his hips. He lets you tease his tip with your tongue, knowing you love the feeling of having something in your mouth even more when you’re overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Gonna cum. Please. Please let me cum!” Jisung is a mess behind you, his thrust uneven and the hand on your hip digging in painfully as he moves his other from between your shoulders to the side of your neck, Chris moving his hand from your hair to allow Jisung to pull you back flush against his body, his mouth connecting with your neck to leave dark bruises, marking you possessively. He was still capable of just enough thought to stick to one side, aware that Chris would want to mark the other himself.

“So fucking pretty taking my cock. Such a tight little pussy. She takes me so fucking well, Daddy. She’s so good for us.” The words flood your ears and you clench around him intentionally, catching him off guard as his hips press hard against you, his cum filling you deep as he pants, Chris catching your lips in a tender kiss as tears prick the corner of your eyes.

Jisung is panting, struggling to catch his breath as he holds you close, eventually letting you fall forward into your Dom’s arms. He only gets a few minutes of peace before he’s being pushed away from you gently, the older boy carefully picking you up so that he can lay you on the couch and position himself over you, his pants being pushed down just a little more to avoid the uncomfortable friction of jeans rubbing against your thighs where he settles between them.

“You did so good baby. Do you think you can take a little more?” your eyes are wide and your hands are gripping his shirt, the tears now flowing freely down your cheeks. You’re pleading for him to touch you, whining to have your Daddy fill you. You could never have one of them without the other and not feel empty still after. You needed them both.

Jisung is crouched beside you now, kissing your cheeks sweetly and petting your hair as Chris drags his cock through the cum that was leaking out of you, pushing it back in as he buried his cock inside of you. He was bigger than Jisung, but you were too fucked out at this point to feel anything but pure ecstasy. Being the centre of attention always made you feel out of control and overwhelmed and they were ready and willing to soothe you, Chris pressing gentle kisses to your lips, trading off occassionally to nip at your neck just hard enough to leave marks as he rolls his hips against your own, ensuring he was fucking you nice and deep. He always wanted to take his time with you.

“You’re so good to us baby.” He coo’s between kisses, Jisung massaging your scalp firmly making you sigh with joy. “You’ve been so good for us lately. Our sweet puppy. We love you so fucking much.” His thrust become harder, keeping the same slow pace as he grinds against your gspot with intention, urging you to cum for him. He always made sure your orgasm was reserved for him, knowing that Sungie was always too eager to be able to fuck you through it properly.

He can tell my the pitch of your moans and the way you dig your nails into his hip that you want to cum, grabbing Jisungs hand and bringing it down so that he could rub circles against your clit, watching your tongues meet as he focused on keeping himself calm so that he could give you what you deserve.

“Will you cum for Daddy? I wanna watch you cum for him, Puppy. Wanna see you cum on our Daddys cock.” Jisung is whispering between messy kisses, your hands switching constantly between grabbing at Jisungs shirt and gripping Chris hip as he fucks you.

They’re both whispering filthy praises to you and your high hits you without warning, your back arching as you keen, whimpering like a hurt puppy as you’re flooded with emotion. Chris laces his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to his mouth so that he can kiss your fingers as he fucks you through your orgasm, cooing softly when you start writhing from the overstimulation as he chases his own release.

“Doin’ so well. You can take it baby, I know you can. Just a lil more. You take Daddys cock so well, angel.” His voice is rougher and he’s lost a little of the calm demeanour he usually holds, groaning something filthy when Jisung manages to find a position that allows his tongue just enough room to lap gently at your clit which makes you squeeze the other man even tighter.

It doesn’t take long for Chris to feel his own orgasm ripping through his body, groaning and whispering his thank you’s, watching cum drip down to your ass when he pulls out. You’re crying and wriggling, the pleasure having been almost too much for you to handle.

He can’t help but feel overwhelmed with love and pride, kissing you before he whispers that he’ll be right back, leaving to get a damp cloth to clean you up just a little bit before he makes you shower.

He’s only gone for 2 minutes, and that’s all it takes for Jisung to settle himself between your thighs again, ignoring your pained begging as he tastes the mixture of their cum covering his tongue, shoving it inside you in an attempt to get more.

“I can’t leave you alone for even a second, can I?”

#stray kids smut #> reblog <

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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Needy boys! Seungmin, Felix and Jeongin that are so attached to you that Seungmin and Jeongin decided to share a room so you could stay over all the time.

Seungmin, Felix and Jeongin that rarely sleep in their own beds because they insist they sleep better cuddling you, and they don't mind if the four of you are squished in to one bed.

Seungmin that awkwardly curls up between your legs with his head on your tummy while the other two boys cuddle up on either side of you.

Felix who buries his face in your boobs when he's the only one sharing your bed because they're just so soft and so warm and it makes him feel so very cosy and loved.

Jeongin who wakes up in the middle of the night with you sandwiched between him and Felix and can't stop himself from kissing along your exposed shoulder cause you look so pretty and he doesn't think he'd ever get to touch you like that if you were awake.

Seungmin who only has dirty dreams when he's in your bed and doesn't realise he's humping your leg until he feels a light kick against his calf and hears you muttering "puppy, you're doing it again."

Felix and Jeongin that may or may not take advantage of how pliant you are when you're asleep by letting their hands wander over your warm skin, wide eyes meeting one another every time your breathing changes or a soft sigh leaves your lips.

Felix and Jeongin who whine out excuses when you scold them one night, perfectly aware of Jeongins teeth nipping lightly against your neck as Felix let's his own explore the expanse of your chest, not feeling nearly as sorry or embarrassed as they should have when they consider that you'd stop scolding Seungmin for the way he would grind lazily against your leg in the middle of the night. Why shouldn't they get the same amount of grace from you?

Seungmin who quietly shuts the door of the bathroom behind him when he finds you brushing your teeth, timidly apologising for what had been happening at night. His face is flushed red as he tries to explain that he doesn't know why these dreams keep happening, but he doesn't want you to stop letting him cuddle up to you when he's become so reliant on your presence, a deep sigh of relief sounding from within him when you shake your head, petting his hair lovingly and telling him that he's a good boy and you know it's not his fault.

Felix and Jeongin who pout at Seungmin when he tells them to apologise to you and instead opt for cooking you lunch because they aren't really sorry but they do want you to know they care.

Felix and Jeongin who whimper pathetically when you tell them that only Seungmin gets special treatment that night, their protest fading when you tell them that they "should have just asked if they needed your help."

Seungmin who pants helplessly against your neck that night when you press your thigh harder against his Crotch and tug your shirt up, his eyes watery and pleading at your whispers. "It's okay puppy. Do whatever you need to do to feel better, okay?"

Seungmin who doesn't want to cum because he doesn't want you to stop praising and cooing at him like this, but he can't help it when your hand reaches down to palm at his hard length and he cums all over your thigh.

Felix and Jeongin who beg Seungmin to tell them how he got you to touch him and are so annoyed when he says all he did was be nice to you because they find it so much more fun to poke at you.

#brooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo #not into sub!idol #but def into needy!idols omggggg #like him humping your leg #im on my knees #stray kids smut #> reblog <

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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[4:47]

Thinking about artist! Hyunjin struggling because he has artist block, so he puts all his projects on hold in fear of messing them up. Then he meets you and hanging with you becomes more frequent. The more it happens, the more he gets inspiration but he still feels like something is missing but he can’t pinpoint it. He realizes he’s fallen for you and now he can’t stop thinking about you. So much do that you’re his waking thought and the one he thinks of before he sleeps. One day he builds the courage to confess and he’s elated when you tell him the feelings are mutual.

Every ounce of physical touch buzzes his skin and shivers his spine. He’s addicted and wants more of you until the hunger goes away. One kiss, then two, then his lips are everywhere. Down, down, down until they reach a place that sends his self control out the window. It’s not until he’s had his fill, quite literally filling you up with his expression of lust and desire. There you are sprawled on his bed, on display for him to see. Dripping, leaking, soaking his sheets. This is what he’s been missing. The block is gone, he’s finally done it; created a masterpiece.

#stray kids smut #> reblog <#🥴🤭

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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When are you thinking of updating your master list?

Everyday 💀

I’m currently working on it, every day a bit more since I want my blog to be at least a bit aesthetically appealing. You’ll just have to wait a bit more.

#> a wild pokemon <

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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Let’s switch kinks !

What kink/scenario ‘switching’ would you think of? Like kinks/scenario that are usually assigned to a member but that you want to see with another member? Exemples…

Mine is manspreading, usually assigned to Heeseung but that I want to see with Sunoo.

Like imagine this tooth-rooting sweet boy manspreading is the couch when he thinks no one is here and he’s really tired. I swear the mere thought of it makes me go brr

Imagine how he would be surprise when you sit on his laps because 1) why are you even here??? 2) he shouldn’t like it that much

Second one, hand kink assigned to Jeongin/Minho/Seungmin but that I want to see with Felix

Like damn his fingers are so smoll! It would only encourage him to do better when fingering you. And it’s small so it can’t exactly reach the deeper part of your cunt, but it’s so perfect because that way, he can edge you, again and again, because he’s stuffing you with his fingers, but it’s not enough

Don’t get me started on how he would be obsessed with you sucking on it, because you can easily put his whole digits in your mouth without gagging and just can’t help but think about how good you are at giving head

1 year anniversary on Tumblr! A small event so feel free to send requests (that’s the whole purpose of this post)! Posts will be tagged under #< let’s switch kinks~ >

- 24/02/24

#enhypen hard thoughts #ateez hard thoughts #stray kids hard thoughts #txt hard thoughts #< let’s switch kinks~ >

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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Could you please write about Jake being so infatuated with his kitty hybrid that he just has to fuck her dumb and full of his babies? (Inspired by your fic- I’m so obsessed with jakes relationship with his kitty hybrid) also your writing and ideas are really amazing 🩷

Jake trying to get his cat!gf pregnant

Jake who buys the cutest set of lingerie for his kitten. He likes every color on you - pink, purple, red, blue - but his favs are the pastel one. Softer colors and softer fabrics that makes you look soft as he's railing into you and rearranging your gut.

He absolutely loves baby pink and baby blue, he thinks it fits you well, and who are you to deny him? You're his good girl, willing to do anything for him just like he would for you. You don't mind him fucking you to the point that the only thing you can doo is drool on your pillow face down ass up as he's hitting it from behind.

But what Jake loves the most is fucking you in oversized clothes. Not his - even if it's better, but yours. The one he buys for you; pregnancy clothes. He is obsessed with the idea of planting his seeds inside of you, with the mere thoughts, dreams of touching and kissing you baby bump. And those oversized clothes are doing a good job, because thanks to it he is able to imagine that you have a cute round belly, that he fucked a baby into your cute tummy.

That's why he always fills you up, push his semen deeper and deeper, cum nth time until he's sure that your womb is nothing but a pool of white hot seeds.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen jake smut #jake sim smut #jake sim hard hours #jake sim hard thoughts #jake sim x reader #enhypen x reader

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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Be My Groupie | hjs

❝𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞.❞

↳ You'll be there for him until the day he forgets you, his biggest and most dedicated fan. Only he'll never forget you. He just needs to tell you.

↳ Han Jisung x female reader

↳ Best friends to lovers romance trope. Established relationship, rockstar Jisung, essentially pwp, angst and tension, references to imposter syndrome and generalised anxiety, a deliciously smutty end.

! Explicit content, adult themes, 4.2k, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「Part of the skz tropes collab w @yoongihan」「main contents list」「© February 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」

The strikes across your calendar had all counted down to this.

A single night that would not only shape your best friend’s future, but that would validate the years of hard work he had dedicated to the pursuit of his music. You knew well of those, for you were there for all of them. The tears and the frustration, the euphoria in between; Jisung had poured so much of himself that was both emotional and physical into what he loved, and now, it was to come to a glorious head.

The hype around this concert had been your sole source of energy since Jisung excitedly informed you of it.

“I’ve struck fucking gold, baby!” he’d exclaimed, too giddy to catch his breath. “We’re playing Liberty!”

To tackle the biggest music venue in the city where the famed of the industry had played was no small achievement; a genuine concert hall, so far removed from the dive bars and pubs he was used to and that you were so accustomed to watching him in. Long hours you’d spent talking of his ‘big break’— when it would happen (because the likelihood was surely no question), what it would look like. Indeed, it was fair to say you wished for nothing more than your best friend to taste the rich delight of success and happiness. It was only what he deserved. Him, so giving and dedicated. Him, so stuck to you for so long. Him; so endearingly oblivious.

The nature of your friendship was such that, when you thought about it, you suppose you stood no chance of not falling in love. You were so close to him as to fail to picture life without him, and it had been that way since high school. Jisung was everything you looked for in a man, and whether the standards came before him or not, you had struggled to much compromise on them with others, and you’d tried more than once. He was so beautiful as to break your heart in the right light, so kind as to remind you what it meant to be a good person. So sweet and without a truly cruel bone in his body. So wildly unable to balance his moods, the peaks of his joy and depths of his despair as interchangeable as the weather. Though the time spent with him was done so with no ulterior motive, for you had made your peace with unrequited infatuation long ago, there was an inherent romance to the dark hours you spent with him, locked in his garage and much later, his studio, listening contently to the tracks he shared first and foremost with you, for your ears and opinion meant more to him than those of his own manager. Much privileged were you to be in such a position, and the joy of exclusivity threatened more than once to tip the scales of your self-control. To be allowed to see into the soul of the man before any other person alive; to witness his arms curl about his guitar and his lips part in sweet song and his eyes flash with all spectrums of emotion was one of the greatest delights of life. The strongest, if you were to admit it.

And you so see; you never stood a chance.

Maybe it was overkill to listen to his music as you got ready for the concert.

Maybe it made you feel like he was here with you, singing as he often did in your company, and not miles away in the green room of a concert hall preparing for the biggest night of his life. A part of you resented that you weren’t able to be with him; it didn’t feel quite right to be a bystander, no more involved than any other person that would see him tonight, but it seemed there was no accounting for friends when the professionals stepped in. You would support him all the same.

A final glance spared at yourself in the mirror brought satisfaction; you’d done your best with what little fancy wardrobe you possessed, settling on a black dress that Jisung had once complimented. A choker added to the look, and in a bid to complete it, you searched through your dressing table drawers for the birthday gift Jisung had bought you this year— a tube of high-end crimson lipstick. You’d thought it an odd gift at the time, never much being one for makeup or any such extravagance, but he’d insisted on the colour being his favourite, and made a wish to see it on you.

“It’ll bring out your eyes,” he’d said. “If you don’t like it, just toss it.”

He had been right, you supposed. It certainly did something to accentuate your pout, adding a flare of the dramatic to your otherwise perfectly plain appearance. And if Jisung liked it...

As you contemplated taking it with you, the shrill honk of a taxi’s horn sounded from outside. Grabbing all you needed in a rush, you made for the vehicle, relieved to find it warm inside against the chill of the autumn night.

Moments into the drive, your phone rang.

“What’s up?”

“Hey, you.”

Your smile was most immediate— he was wired, and rightly so.

“You on your way?” he asked.

“Just got in the cab. I won’t be long.”

“Cool. Come to the back entrance when you get here. There’s hell of a queue out front.”

“I can queue with the rest of the muggles, Ji,” you laughed.

“No way, man. It’s too cold out. I bet you’re wearing next to nothing.”

You glanced down at your bare legs.

“Right?” he pressed.

“I can handle a bit of wind. See you soon.”

“Yo, don’t you—”

It wasn’t your fault his penchant for overprotection warmed the basest parts of you, and it was with that justification that you nursed your glow of smug content. Not that it would last long, for it eventually always gave way to bleak reality, where you questioned the boundaries of friendship and wondered if he simply went out of his way to ensure everyone in his life was well fed and well cared for. On occasion the things he did felt to step beyond platonic realms—wrapping you in his hoodie when the cold became you, dragging you into hugs that lasted a second too long, kissing your temple or forehead with surely no more thought than he gave which socks to put on in the morning. All of this brought about more confusion, another bout of repression and a need to calm the heart, such as you now experienced, for you’d run away with yourself yet again.

You took a slow, deep breath. This was Jisung’s night, and you’d support him as you always did. As you did best.

As his friend.

When eventually the taxi arrived at Liberty, you had real trouble comprehending what it was you saw. A winding queue of people clustered tightly that stretched the length of the venue and down the street like a great, colourful snake.

Jisung hadn’t been joking, you supposed. He must be climbing the walls with excitement; seeing the thousands of people that streamed your music in person take up a great space must bring about a far superior hit of dopamine.

With jacket wound tightly around yourself, you made for the back of the queue, the walk so long that you cursed yourself for not thinking to leave a little earlier, though that would have required forethought that you simply did not possess. Standing in line, you shifted from sole to sole as the ache began to permeate your feet, the line shuffling along with all the haste of a snail in danger.

The sudden grip on your wrist that yanked you out of place would have had you shrieking if not for the speed of it. Jisung, ever stealthy, dragged you through a fire exit that he had opened part way, slamming it shut behind him before detection spoiled it all. He released you quickly, irritation about his features.

“Didn’t I tell you to go around the back?” he huffed.

“Didn’t I tell you I could queue with everyone else?”

His brown eyes softened and narrowed, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. His gaze fell over you slowly, then swiftly back up, where it lingered on your mouth. Perhaps you imagined the blush that coloured his cheeks— he was in stage makeup, after all. Glitter around his eyes and smoked-out black liner made it difficult to know for sure. The red flannel he wore over black tank top and tight leather trousers, complete with gold around his neck and in his ears, also made it difficult to do much more than stare like a dumbfounded fool.

“You should get a good spot,” he said, voice hoarse. “We’re on soon.”

“I’ll be right in front,” you smiled.

He nodded, swallowing hard, the confidence you knew him capable of just shy of surfacing.

“Hey.” You took his slim, warm hand. “You’ll smash this. It’s all yours.”

He forced a smile. “Yeah. I know.”

“It’s your big break. Just like we always talked about.”

“Right.”

“Clutch it with both hands and suffocate the shit out of it. Got it?”

He huffed a gentle laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”

A soft squeeze of your hand willed your heart to misbehave, as did the sweep of his thumb over your knuckles. Hardly a touch, and yet you afforded so much meaning to it. So much attention.

“I’ll, uh, see you after the show?” You slipped your hand away.

Jisung nodded. “Yeah. After the show.”

A beat of silence settled, uncharacteristic of the both of you to be so awkward, and yet you couldn’t alight the tension to anything else. His stage nerves, your uncertainty, the magnitude of what was to come. All of it set the air to shimmer.

“I’ll go and get that good spot then,” you said, and with a few steps, began away from him.

“Hey,” he called.

You turned back.

“You look great. Just, you know, so you know.”

He hurried off down the corridor before another word could be said, leaving you to wander the wreckage of your dignity. You touched your painted lips gently.

How you’d dreamt of seeing him like this.

Presented before a few thousand people that chanted his name in adoring unison, bathed in strobe light and stage smoke, propelled into his fourth song of the night by applause and whistles and the eager eyes of all who watched him. The stage may well have been built for him, so comfortable was he in voice and demeanour; just for him.

You stood as close to the stage as reasonable limits would allow, none ashamed of the elbows and well-placed crushing of toes it had taken you to get there. To compromise even an inch of your line of sight was out of the question— you had to see him. You had to see this.

The flannel long abandoned, Jisung strummed his sleek, red guitar with the accompaniment of the band behind him, his black tank doing little to conceal the honey tone of his skin that, under the spotlights, appeared as though iridescent. With one arm raised he played to the hype of the crowd, the other flexing under the weight of his beloved instrument. Engorged veins decorated his tensed throat as he sang with all he possessed, his dark hair sodden with sweat that trickled in rivulets to the hollows of his throat and down his temples, from his chin. Only when his voice abated did you realise the screams of the crowd you stood in, and so vehemently did it feel like just reward for all the tears and endless worries the man had bled out before this night, it was enough to bring you to emotion. He deserved this. There was none more deserving. This would be the start of a long, wonderful journey for him.

What then, would that mean for you? Selfish to even consider it on a night such as this, but being only human you were hardly able to prevent such thoughts surfacing. You had always known that talent like his would not go undiscovered for long, but had not given much consideration to the aftermath. Around you stood thousands of adoring fans, every one of them vying for a scrap of attention that would evermore vindicate their affection for him and make of them lifelong followers. Devotion like theirs would propel him to stardom quicker than any of your well-intended words ever could; would it be that he’d reach such lofty heights as to remain out of your grasp? Would he soon forget the girl that, in her small and quiet way—indeed, the only way she knew how—devoted herself to him when nobody else knew of how brightly he smiled or how angelically he sang? To brand the feeling that tightened your chest ‘insignificance’ felt too dramatic, but you could not well dispute that for as long as he stood up there, and you down here, you constituted just another face in the crowd.

Just another hopeless fool that loved him.

Outside the venue, where the chill of the night had turned to biting cold, you waited on the stone steps and watched the great masses of people leave with spirits so high they would surely reach heaven.

The pit in your stomach had not so much abated, and if anything now brought upon you a wave of nausea that spiked hot irritation— how could you be so miserable on the most special night of Jisung’s life? He looked to you as a pillar of support, and yet here you were, wallowing in lanes of bleak possibility and lamenting that which you had not even lost, for you never had it to begin with.

A vibration from your jacket pulled you from the thoughts, and you quickly moved to answer it, plugging your free ear to relieve yourself of the noise.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?”

“Outside. Needed some air.”

“Come to the fire exit, I’ll let you back in.”

Supposing compliance would be less testing than arguing with him, you trudged about the venue to the door he had dragged you through prior, surprised to see him already there, delight lighting his face.

“Quick, come in!”

He swiftly closed the door after you slipped inside, yet before you were allowed to congratulate or praise him as his performance so deserved, you were caught in an embrace. Held to his chest tightly, he curled around you with no effort, the strong and steady thump of his heart based beneath your ear, for he wore nothing but the black tank he had performed in. Everything about him radiated adrenal heat, so fierce as to warm you through.

“Ji?”

“Just let me have this,” he muttered. “Just a minute.”

Able to say nothing against that, though still fearful of what being in his arms would later mean for you, you acquiesced.

“I’m so fucking happy,” he said.

You smiled, hand curling around his bicep. “You did amazing. I’ve never seen you so in your element. It was incredible.”

He squeezed you gently. “Thank you for coming.”

“Come on. Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

Moments longer you stood in silence, his arms locked about you as though they might never let go. Despite yourself and reasoning that he simply wanted to rejoice in the glow of his triumph, you could not help but silently yearn for the embrace to last forever. Who knew when the next might come?

When eventually it did break, Jisung did so with a sigh. At arm's length he examined you, his large eyes still rimmed with black searching for something you couldn’t be certain of. His gaze, once more and with intent, dropped to your lips. Heat flushed your nape and cheeks, self-consciousness becoming you.

“W— What?” you stammered.

“You’re wearing the lipstick.”

You nodded. “Well. Yeah. Special occasion and all.”

Whether your attempt at nonchalance bore success or not, you couldn’t well determine, for Jisung’s stare did not relent.

“It suits you,” he whispered, and in the next breath reached to sweep the pad of his thumb across the full swell of your bottom lip. Lit from within with a resurgence of desire and want, your knees near threatened to give out. Jisung blinked as though back in the room, his cheeks rosing over.

“I... uh...”

Unable to find the words, he sighed once more. He held your wrists and stepped close, the resigned apology in his eyes warping to a determination you most usually associated with his pursuit of music.

“Fuck it.”

With a gentle pull he brought you towards him, meeting your step with that of his own and in the motion, he caught your lips. If the rush of emotion that seized you with shock did not force you to keep your eyes open, you might have believed it a dream, for it did not simply end with a brushing of lips. He wound an arm around your waist, backed you up with guiding steps until flush with the corridor wall. Engulfed with his heat that seemed with the proximity only to exacerbate, you were helpless but to curl a grip into his shirt, to surrender to the careful kisses he alighted on your crimson lips. A gasp escaped you as he held your neck with both hands, gentle thumbs under your chin kept your head tilted such that he could taste you at all angles with slow, measured nudges. When too swollen with desire to contain your want to have him firmer, you grasped at him desperately; he broke the kiss with a lazy grin.

“That was just about the scariest thing I’ve ever done,” he mumbled.

“You just performed in front of thousands of people for the first time.”

“Yeah. I did.” Another soft kiss and he whispered to your lips, “Come to the green room with me?”

With a tentative nod, he led you on jellylike legs down the hallway and through another, approaching a door that he peeked around and, seemingly satisfied, pulled you into. No smaller than a particularly large closet, the room was furnished with a single dressing table framed by lit vanity lights and a mirror, with a two-seater sofa pushed up to the wall. The only light came from said vanity mirror, the white bulbs glowing softly enough that Jisung’s shadow cast over the door as he flicked the lock and stepped towards you.

“This isn’t just a concert high,” he said, voice laced with a rasp. “I need you to know that.”

You swallowed, pulse rabbiting with anticipation. “What is it, then?”

“It’s giving up. I’m giving up.”

He wound his arms around you, took you into them again.

“I’m done fighting how I feel about you,” he said. “You’re the only constant I’ve ever had. The only thing that makes me want to sing and write music. You’re my muse— my everything.”

“Jisung...”

“You kissed me back,” he whispered. “I know I’m not crazy about us.”

You nodded, quite unable to catch your breath. “You’re not.” You held his cheek. “You’re not, Jisung.”

Contrary to your first kiss, the passion in the second was tenfold. A release of all that you’d kept so far from the surface of everything; a volcano spilling over to scald all who stood in its way. In his fervour he walked you back to the dressing table, and quite suddenly, spun you in his arms to face it.

“Watch me,” he instructed, and with eyes so dark as to make your core throb, began to alight on your throat open-mouthed affection that made you shiver and tremble. His hands slid around you, over your stomach where they held a moment, then to your thighs, where he hitched the material of your dress with painful slowness.

When underwear was revealed, Jisung seemed as though to lose what remained of his fragile tether of restraint, groaning against your neck and lifting your leg, guiding your foot to prop the dressing table, thus revealing all of you in the mirror, much to Jisung’s pleasure.

“God, baby—” He stared unabashedly, and with gentle fingers, slipped your underwear aside. “Show me what you’ve been craving from me all these years.”

Too drowned in his heat to be much embarrassed, though mortification most certainly did something to propel your compliance, it was with a shaky breath that you brought your own uncertain hand to where you ached. Jisung’s eyes burned, anticipation shimmering the air.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered. “Perform for me, baby.”

With a groan you slid your wanting fingers through your wetness, unable to look away from the intensity of the man that watched you as illicit entertainment. Soft, slow stimulation over your throbbing clit eased you into delight, each spark of pleasure felt by the man at your back.

“More,” he instructed, and in so doing wrapped a gentle hand about your throat, no pressure offered but the weight of his touch that, in itself, rendered you lightheaded. You quickened the pace of your touching, fearful that you would not be long for orgasm at this rate. So it was that you reached the very peak of it, trembling seconds away from falling into euphoria, when he tore your hand away from your touching and closed his mouth around your slick digits, tongue hot and wet.

“Need to feel you,” he groaned when his oral worship was done, and turned you in his embrace. He lifted you to the surface of the dressing table and pushed your dress up to where it would not pose a nuisance, all the while allowing you the frantic task of unzipping his trousers, and frantic it was, for only when you freed his throbbing length and held him in palm did the reality of all you’d done sink in— This was happening. It was real. Jisung wanted you, and would allow you not even a second of breath now that he had you, for his lips were on yours and his hands were spreading you and his thickness was breaching you with slick ease and slowness and—

“Fuck, fuck—” he sighed, taking your hand and curling it into the mop of his dark hair where he encouraged your grip. “Hold on.”

His instruction not without reason, Jisung’s first thrusts were experimental; a consideration of your state in respect of the train he was promptly to run on you. So drunk on the heat of you, his pace was that of carnality, the slamming of desire wrecking the legs of the dressing table and the paintwork of the wall behind it, for the thump of furniture matched that of his rhythm. Each delicious plunge brought you to near tears, the pleasure such that you were unable to breathe or think or hear anything over the pounding of your heart. Lit by the white glow of bulbs, his flawless complexion burned with deep heat, his efforts and exertion seen in the tense draw of his body— you tore his tank from his head, keen to feel him under your hands, the soft planes of his middle and curved firmness of his chest.

“J— Jisung, I—”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Fuck, I can’t—”

He kissed your complaint away, and consistent with his thrusts, held through the violent onslaught of your toe-curling, earth-shattering, blinding orgasm. So snug and wet around him, what strength he had in reserve appeared to fade, his curses and the burying of his head in your neck preceding his tremors of release, his hips stilling and his cock leaking, throbbing inside you. You held him, kissed his temple, revelled in the afterglow.

“Holy shit,” he panted when the violence had passed. “Fuck, that was intense—”

As inclined to agree as you were, you found you could not say much of anything. Doubt had begun to gather as content subsided, and in his fucked-out state, Jisung would have been forgiven for failing to notice your dip of mood.

Still; this was Jisung.

“I meant it all,” he said, still catching his breath. “Everything.”

“Everything?”

He grinned lazily, kissed you softly. “You’re my muse, baby. Always have been. Kind of thought you already knew that.”

“I’m not that presumptuous, Ji.”

“You should be. You’re the best person I know. It might be selfish of me to ask this, but...”

“But what?”

“I want you by my side, through whatever comes next.” He took your clammy hands, put them on his chest. “Yours is the only face I ever want to see in the crowd. You’re the only groupie I want.”

You scoffed a laugh though forming tears, slapping him gently. “Fuck off. I’m not your groupie.”

“You know you want to be, though.”

“Shut up.”

“Never.” He chuckled, and as the moment passed, once more drew his thumb over your bottom lip, stained with the residue of faded crimson. “Loved that lipstick,” he sighed.

You hummed. “That lipstick loved you.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. So do I, actually.”

A smile as bright as the spotlights that famed him alighted his face. He was so beautiful as to break your heart. So kind as to make you a good person. So sweet and so wildly unable to regulate his moods. So utterly perfect in most every way that mattered.

Perhaps you were his biggest groupie, after all.

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >

𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙯 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 ♡ >

#> reblog <#tf did I just read #I hope it blows up like crazy dang

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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thoughts about softdom wonie helping his girl to relax after a long day of work, legs wrapped around his broad shoulders GODDD I can't do this anymore

Jungwon helping his gf relax

You've said it all. He just wants you to feel you good. He doesn't give a fuck if you tug on his hair, or kick his back whenever he hits the spot that makes you clench around him and suck his dick back into your cunt. He said that he wanted to help you relax but the way he pounds relentlessly into your core assure you that he enjoys this just as much as you do.

If your day was really stressful and that you start to cry as he's rocking back and forth into you, Jungwon would kiss your tears and whisper sweet nothing into your ears as if he's not quite literally bending your body as he wishes.

He would slow down and listen to your concern, never once making you feel unheard as he's cooing and insulting people with you as if he's not rearranging your inside.

He would make you cum again and again, not once complaining about the fact that he's edging himself in order to not overstimulate you, because he wants you to forget about all the drama, wants you to softly fuck you into oblivion until the only thing you can remember is his name; until the only thing you can feel is your legs' muscles stretching painfully; until the only thing you can taste his love on the tip of your tongue.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #yang jungwon x reader #yang jungwon hard hours #yang jungwon smut #yang jungwon hard thoughts #enhypen x reader

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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Any hard thoughts for owner Lee know with a very sweet introverted cat hybrid reader?👀

In my personal opinion I see Lee know treating reader like royalty all the time and being very soft but ahhhhhh.......... I'll leave how he is in bed for you~🤭

Owner!Minho giving you the princess treatment

Minho is a menace, we all know that. But when it comes to his cats??? He's a simp. Tell him that and you'll end up in the air fryer. And when it comes to you, his oh! so sweet girl? He's the simpiest little shit ever. You want something? Name it and you'll have it. You're like "I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it".

Thankfully you're not greedy, you're like those cats who run to their owner as soon as they're home; those cats who cuddle up in the crook of their neck when it's time to go to sleep. You spend some of your afternoons bathing in the sun with your three furry friends and some others alongside Minho, making everyone coo at they way you hide behind him or look up at him whenever someone talks to you.

Minho loves you very much. You get the princess treatment every time he sees you, and when he's not here he always make sure to let you know that he cares about you even if he knows that you being half cat means that you're fine being on your own. But he just can't help it sometimes, so he sends delivery to his house to make sure that you eat properly.

Even Jisung is jealous, but not of you! He's jealous of Minho. How can he go back to someone like you? It's a surprise to everyone that you get along that well. It's a surprise to everyone that Minho can hold back his snarky comments whenever he brings you around.

And he's the same in the bedroom. He's a service dom for his cute baby girl. He likes it vanilla, with maybe some cute fine lingerie, with a lot of praises and soft touches. He wants what's best for you, he wants you to see the stars, wants to remind you that you belong to him and that he'll always treat you like a Queen in and out of the bedroom.

He could spend hours between your legs, lapping at your cunt, hand massaging your thighs as he's making you cum for the second time in what feels like a few minutes. He loves feeling those thighs pressing against his head whenever you're close, love hearing you mewl and whisper at the feeling of his tongue inside of your warm entrance.

Minho likes fucking you missionary. He wants to feel your whole body flush against his, your breast and perky nipples pressing against his chest and your soft tummy against his abs. He loves watching your face contort with pleasure, loves watching that lustful gaze turn into a haze as he fores you body to cum again. He loves watching your cheeks redden and your mouth open in a silent scream.

Minho loves when you remind him that you're his sweet, shy, little cat. He loves nipping at your fluffy ears, loves when you tail wraps around his wait because the gesture is so sweet, a stark contrast to the way he's pushing his seed deeper in your womb.

But above all, he loves when you scratch his back, leaving red marks for everyone to see that he's yours, and that you are his.

#stray kids smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #lee minho hard thoughts #lee minho smut #lee minho hard hours #lee minho x reader

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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…soo what happened to the reader after the whole thing with catjw and dogjk? 🤭

What happened after this ?

Pregnancy kink ahead!!! Sorry not sorry!

She got pregnant because I have a strong pregnancy kink like tf and they started to worship the ground she was walking on. Keeping their hands all over her at any times, massaging and stroking her scalp, her thighs, her boobs. They'd be so infatuated with her that they wouldn't even care who the father is even if they do think that if they fuck her during her pregnancy it might increase their chances of being the father. That's just an excuse though. There's just something about her round and swollen belly that makes them horny.

Jake would hump her ass late at night, his fingers looking for her clit under the covers because he wants her to have a good night sleep - no, it's just that he saw her swollen belly and the mere idea that he fucked his baby in her womb was enough to turn him on.

Jungwon have a serious relationship with her breast - so much that he might likes them more than his actual girlfriend. But you can't blame him, he loves how round they got, how milk is leaking, how her body is practically begging him to latch on her nipples and suck her dry. He's the biggest baby, if not for the fact that his dick is buried deep inside of her cunt as he tells her not to move until he's done 'helping'.

#enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #yang jungwon hard hours #yang jungwon smut #jake sim smut #jake sim hard hours #jake sim hard thoughts #yang jungwon hard thoughts #yang jungwon x reader #jake sim x reader

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theysaidhush · 2 months

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Excuse me ????

#> reblog <

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theysaidhush · 3 months

Text

⭑⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒⭒

Chapter 3: Stars

The talk with Chan went pretty well, if not for the fact that Athéna was now very much aware that her being in Stray Kids was a surprise for the leader of said group. She was confused. It was his group, and even if the agency was allowed to manage the band as it pleases them, she did expected the leader to be aware of a thing that important - such as a freakin new member, for example?

She was now anxiously waiting behind the closed door of the studio, fighting the urge to pace back and forth down the corridor. Her thoughts were a mess and her hands were shaking even if she was trying really hard to clutch them together - those itches were a pain in the ass, especially when it was because of those stupid, dumb thoughts running in circles in her head.

Breathe.

Being on the receiving end of his stare was enough for her smile to waver and her determination to dampen, and she was hating it. She couldn't let herself down, not after all that she went through - not that she spent years in here, like some trainees did and still do. In fact, she had only been here for nine months - which was more than enough in her opinion. But now, meeting people that were here before her, knowing that she would debut before them? It was embarrassing.

Athéna tried really hard to tell herself that if they allowed her to debut, it was because she was good - or at least good enough. But even she couldn't fool herself, her dance skills were nowhere impressive and her rapping wasn't making head bob. And she was being fair, not humble, or full of self pity. She admired those who worked hard, so it wasn't a surprise if she lowered her head every time a person who had been training for years crossed her path in the building.

Everything's gonna be fine.

Now she had to cope with the fact that she was in a band who could very much not like her. What a good new! But as long as she was her usual self, she would slash could slash try to befriend them. Even if at some point of her life she was having trouble making friends, let alone talk to people, now, Athéna was more capable than doing that. She was - well, she was not popular in college but only because she lacked looks! But she was pretty much acquainted with everyone. Like those funny guys in movies. Those who have a few friends but that everyone knows - and that somehow always die first in horror movies, like come on run, are you trying to befriend a psychopath serial killer?! Athéna would. Years ago she would not think that she could be capable of this, she would never have believed it. But now that she was the person who always die first in horror movie, she was going to try her best to prove them that despite being a not so polyvalent idol, she still was a good person!

"Hi?"

Oh God that deep voice.

It took the French girl a few seconds to actually realize that someone was talking to her - she was a bit lost in her head, or, she brushed it off as someone talking to someone else. Blinking, still facing the studio's door, she closed her eyes and ignored the person who was standing behind her. For some reasons, she likes acting that sometimes, just ignoring the world.

"Excuse me?"

She can easily pretend that she doesn't speak Korean, can't she?

"Madam?"

Oh, this person really wants to talk to her. Too bad, she is not in the mood! Plus, his voice was far too attractive to end this conversation right now. If only he could talk a bit more, a bit longer, maybe even deeper-

But as she was making the most of the situation, listening to that sweet, deep, deep voice, a hand grabbed her shoulder, making her jump slightly at the contact. She spun on her heels, facing the owner of that unforgettable voice who retracted his hands like lava was dripping from her body - she would appreciate the compliment as it meant that she was hot. She really wants someone to say that she is hot.

Lights. Freckles. Ethereal.

"Oh! English?"

"Y - Yes..?"

Athéna blinked - again. The words spilled out of her mouths in a rush. Maybe it was because he was asking her. Maybe because she wanted him to talk in English because God his voice was even deeper. She who'd have chastised him for assuming that she was not Korean just because she was not asian, but he was pretty. And that's how, upon meeting Lee Felix, Athéna swore that she would never judge people who was allowing things because of 'beauty privileges' anymore. Now that she was facing a goddamn statue craved by God itself, a piece of art who belong in the Louvre's corridors, she was sure that she would allow the man to spit and step on her, and she would thank him for it.

But Athéna's thoughts should remain hidden to the public, as the author is still trying to present her as someone remotely fair and unbiased.

She sputtered a few more incomprehensible words, her eyes gazing at his sweet freckles, not even able to tear her gaze from the constellation on his cheeks.

"You're like, really pretty!" she waved at his face before remembering that it might have been impolite "Like, your face - No, your freckles! You might hear that a lot. I mean - obviously. Who wouldn't want to compliment someone like you?"

She was embarrassing, she knew it. If the way the boy before her was blinking profusely, clutching his shirt in his oh! so tiny head - which mas making her wonder if his fingers were too small, or just small enough- Right, the author is trying really hard. The main idea of the paragraph is that she was making him uncomfortable - or so she thought.

Dang it, get a hold of yourself.

"Thank you?"

It was question. Not a real, conventional thanks.

"It's like...a galaxy you know? Like small little stars. I once read that God invented freckles because he wanted the mankind to think about the stars when the night was too dark. Or...something along that way."

The boy before her smile brightly at that fact, and Athéna narrowed her eyes. The boy was shining - and she wasn't being her dramatic self!

"You have freckles too." The blonde boy pointed out, scanning her face and her attire, his eyes stopping on the small little brown freckles littering her cheeks and her nose bridge. It was so prettily scattered all over her face that it was reminding him of those manga characters. He smiled once again at that thought, tilting his head to have a better look at those small stars, as she named it.

"Yes I do. I like them, they're pretty, aren't they? Not prettier than yours though."

"What - Of course they are prettier than mine!"

"No they're not! Yours are a real reminder starry nights, for real! I bet that I can trace them - Overstepping, sorry."

He wanted to laugh but argue, his mouth opening yet closing, thought swirling in his head. She was cute, and Felix likes cute things. On top of that, she seemed to be the kind of person who likes themselves. She was confident, and Felix likes confident people, they are attractive.

So he wanted to tell her that her freckles were just as pretty as his, if not more. But the sudden hotness creeping up his face surprised him. That reaction was unusual. He couldn't tell yet if he was flattered or embarrassed - but a good kind of embarrassment, like sitting in the middle of people singing happy birthday on fifty shades of wrong notes.

And seriously, Athéna knew that she could be overwhelming at times, but she somehow never knew when to stop. Nevertheless, when her words caused that kind of reaction to the other person, it was a good reminder for her to just keep her mouth shut.

"I'm sorry I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot. Not just because you're pretty - or handsome? Do you feel offended when I say 'pretty'? People tend to say that this word shouldn't be used to describe a man. I mean - maybe I just learned the wrong English, but still... Oh, I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

Th boy just chuckled and shrugged, and now, Athéna was even more hyper aware of what was going on around her. Super conscious about herself.

"It's fine, really. I do it too, whenever I'm excited, so I understand."

"Thank you!" she said, putting the emphasize on the word 'you', gesturing with her hands all over the place, "People think that I'm talkative, which isn't true at all, I'm actually quite silent when I'm with my comfort people. It's just that I don't know what to do when I meet new people. No need to tell you that it's even worse when they're pretty."

The boy's smile was getting wider, so much that the hall's lights were getting duller in comparison with the glow radiating from him. Sweet, warm and comforting. He was a good distraction from whatever was going on behind the door. Or so she thought.

"Felix? What are you doing here?"

"Oh!"

The young woman never knew that someone could shine like that. Could shine more than how Felix was shining seconds ago, with his cute rosy cheeks and tiny hands still clutching his far too big sweatshirt while he was talking to her - she was making most of the talking but who cares? The point was that the blonde was obviously delighted with the sight of his leader, Chan. Athéna knew it was him, she could now recognized the owner of that voice anyplace and anytime. He had a great...impact on her.

Felix went past her, head up, no hesitation in his steps - he was walking like model, how was he daring to be so him, so pretty for the world to admire? She wasn't even jealous, she was just glad to be able to admire him like that, barefaced, in all his naked-face glory. But she felt that pang of jealousy, that ugly green monster snickering inside her head as she watched the personification of the sun hug the man behind her. The small leader, who greeted him with his arms opened, a smile stretching is tired features as he engulfed him in his arms. If only she could be Chan, she was yearning for a hug like that...

"I was checking on you. We finished with the dance practice and figured that we would take you out of the studio to grab something to eat. You aren't on a diet, are you?"

Even if the corridor was empty and the doors making a good job at keeping the sound inside the rooms, the place suddenly felt all too silent. It was just a feeling - a mood, according to her friends, even though then French woman tended to say that it was a spell. It might be true, though. Whatever it was, whatever its name was, it was happening right now. As if the world and the words were underwater, as if she couldn't move her gaze from the thing she was looking at even if people were calling her name. She was disconnected, unplugged, missing in reality, and so on. Sometimes, it was just happening, out of nowhere, for no reason at all. She would stare at something, not blinking once, until her eyes were watery because of dryness. But sometimes - like now, it was happening because of a trigger. Nothing too explicit or dangerous. In that case, it was Chan - depending on who you ask, Chan is exactly that: explicit and dangerous, but it was clues that the young woman wasn't so good at picking up. She had other concerns such as what's the synonym of synonym? what was the last name of Captain Hook before he lost his hand? Such existential questions with no answers...

The man she was facing a dozen of minutes ago was not the same person who was facing Felix. No. He disappeared somewhere because he really wanted to beat his own poor record at flappy bird and he left his twin in charge. His sweet and loving twin, who was looking at Felix like he hung the moon, who was delicately stroking the boy's arm, nodding each time the latter was explaining something with far too grand gestures for the simplicity of the things that actually happened. He was avoiding blinking, taking in all Felix's beauty, listening to him, not only seeing him but watching him. He couldn't be the man who looked at her as if she said that he could never realize his dreams, could he?

"And he fell, on is ass. He's fine though!"

He was looking at Felix like one look at a full moon, with hope, admiration and longing.

"Oh! And she was - Oh, I never asked what your name is! I'm so sorry..."

But he was looking at her like one look at a new moon, with sorrow, deception and disinterest. Because there was nothing to look at.

He was looking at her right now, with that look.

Brighter than the sun yet deeper than the sea, I'll show you what everyone wants to see.

"Pardon?" She snapped - not that anyone noticed that she was digging holes in the leader's face - then chuckled, then shrugged, probably embarrassed as her gaze was flickering between the three man in front of her.

Felix mirrored her laugh, amused at her antics - even if she wasn't trying to be funny. He was used to being around loud people. He was in Stray Kids, for God's sake. He was in the noisiest group of the 4th generation and even he admitted it - people who said otherwise could respectfully argue with the wall. But she wasn't just loud. She was a breath of fresh air, a boost of serotonin! Damn, he only met her a few minutes ago but if someone came to him and told him that fifty percent of her body was made of compacted hormones slash cells of dopamine he would believe them - and it meant a lot, regarding the fact that he was friend with the Han Jisung, aka the funniest and nicest people in his 'call a friend' joker. Who needed chocolate when they were friend with that bundle of... joy? nerves?

"Axina, right?"

Brighter than the sun yet deeper than the sea, I'll show you what everyone wants to see.

"More like Ah-thé-nah, you can google it!"

Gazes.

"If you want to..."

⭑⭑⭑⭒⭒

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #swan dive and she met the stars

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