~~~

'00

[sannie-young]

⊹₊⟡⋆Pup K.SM.

SKZ fake texts

Pairing: bf!seungmin x reader

Warnings: language, suggestive, teasing, pet names, fluffy Minnie

About: A collection of times Seungmin shows his gf how much he loves her and some silliness

Note: 25 slides because I needed to get it all out

Masterlist

Taglist:

@niku0704 @lizal1cious @pineapple-burgah @karlee10261990 @ch40sv01d @galaxygurll @landsharkfandomtrash @myen2rude @nougatjade @dina-10s-blog @hanadulsetaad @ironyatitsfinest @barbie-girl84 @galaxygurlll @dinkiplier @kpopishgirlie @bbokarismeow @hyunjinswife4ever @little-mix-fan-forever @xxitsalliebearxx

[everglowdaisies]

omg this was a masterpiece

[ellipsis9]

Good for you not for him

seungmin x f!reader (feat bangchan)

Synopsis: You used to orbit around Chan, all late nights and unspoken feelings, until his rejection forced you to move on. Now you’re in a soft, quietly solid relationship with Seungmin—and Chan can only regret the choice that made room for someone who actually chose you back.

a/n: ahh this is so bittersweet but comforting at the same time

wc: 6,978

You always find him in the same place.

Headphones on, shoulders hunched, fingers tapping restlessly against the desk as a project file glows on the screen. The clock on the wall insists it’s nearly 2 a.m., but Bang Chan still looks like he’s only halfway through his to-do list.

You pause at the doorway of the studio, paper cup of coffee warm between your hands.

“Chan?”

He jumps slightly, spinning in his chair. The harsh blue light of the monitors softens when he recognises you.

“Oh— hey. You scared me.” He pulls one earcup down, a small tired smile tugging at his lips. “What are you doing here? Didn’t your shift end ages ago?”

You step in, closing the door with your foot. “Didn’t your shift end ages ago?”

He laughs quietly, that soft breathy sound you’ve heard a thousand times. You cross the room and set the coffee beside his keyboard.

“Thought you might need this.”

His eyes flick to the cup, then to your face.

“You’re an actual angel, you know that?” He wraps his hands around it, inhaling the steam like it’s oxygen. “Thank you.”

“It’s just convenience store coffee.”

“Yeah, but it’s coffee.” He takes a sip, eyes closing. “And you thought about me.”

He says it so casually, like it doesn’t send your heart straight through the floor.

You swallow, fingers twisting together. You’ve rehearsed what you’re about to say a hundred times— in the shower, on the bus, staring at your bedroom ceiling when you should be asleep. It never sounded right in your head, but your chest feels too tight to keep carrying it around.

“Chan?”

“Mm?” He’s already turned back to the screen, cursor dancing through waveforms, but his attention shifts when he hears your tone. He swivels properly to face you, brows knitting. “Everything okay?”

No. Not really.

You exhale slowly. “Can we… talk for a second? Like, not about work.”

His posture straightens. “Yeah, of course.” He takes the headphones fully off and sets them on the desk. “What’s up?”

You thought you’d be more nervous, but once the first word leaves your mouth, the rest follow like they’ve been waiting at the edge of a cliff.

“I like you.”

His eyes widen just a fraction. For a moment, all you can hear is the hum of the computer and the faint thump of music leaking from some neighbouring room.

You push on before you can lose your nerve.

“I know you’re busy— more than busy, actually, like some sort of functioning insomniac— and I know this probably isn’t a good time. But I…” You swallow. “I’ve liked you for a while. And I didn’t want to keep tiptoeing around it like it’s not there.”

You watch the realisation land slowly across his features, like dawn creeping over a horizon.

“Y/N…” His voice is soft, almost careful.

“I’m not asking for anything huge,” you add quickly, cheeks burning. “You don’t have to… give me an answer now, or at all, really. I just— I needed you to know. Because pretending I don’t feel this way is making it really hard to even be in the same room as you.”

You laugh, a short, embarrassed sound. The room feels much smaller now.

Chan stares down at his coffee for a long moment. When he looks back up, there’s something heavy in his eyes.

“I… thank you,” he says, and you know from the way his voice dips that it’s genuine. “Really. For telling me. I know that wasn’t easy.”

“But…” you say quietly.

He winces at the word, like it hurts him too. “But.”

You brace yourself.

“I care about you a lot,” he starts, fingers tightening around the paper cup. “Like, a lot. You’re… one of the people I rely on the most. You know that, right?”

You nod, though it doesn’t feel like enough.

“And that’s why I…” He takes a breath. “I don’t think I can give you what you deserve right now.”

There it is.

“You’re always here,” he continues. “Helping with schedules, picking up things we forget, bringing coffee at stupid o’clock—” he tries to smile, but it falters “—and I already feel guilty about how much of your time I take. If we… if we tried to date on top of that, I don’t know how I’d not let you down.”

“Chan—”

“I’m always in the studio. I’m always thinking about the next comeback, the members, the fans… and it’s not because you’re not important. You are.” His voice cracks slightly on the word. “But I’m scared I’d make you wait. For answers, for time, for promises I can’t keep. And you don’t deserve that.”

Silence stretches between you like a tightrope.

You’d prepared yourself for rejection. You hadn’t prepared for it to sound like this— soft, apologetic, filled with too much care and not enough room.

“So you’re saying no,” you say quietly, just to make it real.

He flinches, but nods. “Yeah.” His gaze doesn’t leave yours. “I’m… I’m saying no.”

Your chest aches, but it’s a clean pain, sharp and bright. You nod once, slowly.

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” he blurts, leaning forward slightly, eyes frantic. “Y/N, I’m really, really sorry. It’s not that I don’t—”

“Don’t.” You smile, and it’s steadier than you feel. “Please don’t make it harder.”

He shuts his mouth, guilt flickering across his face.

You pull in a breath and straighten your shoulders. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“You’re not… you’re not angry?”

“Honestly? Maybe a little.” You huff out a humourless laugh. “But it’s not your fault you’re married to your job.”

He groans quietly, burying his face in one hand. “God, don’t say it like that.”

“It’s true, though,” you say, softer. “And I knew that. It’s not like you suddenly turned into someone else. You’re just… you.”

He drops his hand and looks at you. There’s something raw in his expression, something fragile.

“I’m still really glad I told you,” you add. “Even if this is your answer.”

“Y/N…”

You step back before he can say your name again in that tone that makes everything sting.

“You should get back to work,” you say. “Deadline and all that.”

“Work can wait.”

“That’s literally the opposite of everything you’ve ever said to me,” you tease weakly.

He smiles, but it’s tight, pained. “I hate this.”

“Me too,” you admit. “But I’ll be okay.”

The problem is, you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

You leave the studio before you change your mind, before you stay and let the ache drag on. The door closes behind you with a soft click, and you only let your smile drop once you’re safely in the empty corridor.

For a long moment, you just stand there, staring at the scuffed floor, listening to the faint muffled beat of music through the walls.

Then you square your shoulders, wipe at your eyes, and walk away.

౨ৎ

Two years pass.

Comebacks blur into each other. New songs, new concepts, new tours. The boys grow more confident, more famous, more exhausted in that strange, glittering way success demands. And you’re still there— behind cameras, in rehearsal rooms, at the side of the stage with a clipboard and an emergency stash of plasters and cough drops.

You and Chan never talk about that night again.

You don’t avoid him, not exactly. The first few months are awkward; you triple-check your words, make sure your smiles are the right distance. He hesitates the first few times he asks you for help, like he’s waiting for you to say no. But slowly, bit by bit, it settles into something gentler. A quieter kind of friendship. Not as easy as before, but not broken either.

The feelings fade the way old bruises do— colour draining slowly, leaving faint shadows only you notice.

You still catch yourself looking at him sometimes when he’s laughing at something one of the members said, or when he falls asleep on the sofa between schedules, mouth slightly open, hoodie pulled over his head. The affection is still there, but it’s less of a storm now and more of a tired tide, lapping at your ribs and then retreating.

Life fills up the empty spaces.

And somewhere in the middle of all that chaos, you start to notice Seungmin.

౨ৎ

It starts with your ankle.

You’ve been on your feet all day— early dance practise, then a long shoot, then a last-minute change to the schedule that has you sprinting down the corridor with a stack of revised cue sheets. By the time the boys are running the choreography again for the fifth time, your legs are buzzing and your trainers feel about two sizes too small.

When the music cuts, you lean back against the wall, stretching one foot, rotating your ankle until it pops.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

You blink and turn to see Seungmin watching you, water bottle dangling from his hand. Sweat darkens his fringe, cheeks flushed from exertion, but his eyes are sharp.

“What thing?” you ask.

“The one where you pretend your ankle doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m not—”

You shift your weight and immediately wince as pain flares.

He raises a brow. “Right.”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “I’ve just been walking a lot.”

“Exactly my point.” He takes a step closer, tilting his head slightly. “Sit down.”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Sit,” he repeats, like he’s talking to a stubborn puppy. “Before you actually injure yourself and we have to drag you to A&E in the middle of promotions.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Call it preventative care.”

You roll your eyes, but your ankle throbs in protest when you shift again, so you slide down the wall until you’re sitting on the floor. He nods, satisfied, and crouches in front of you.

“I’ll be fine after I rest a bit,” you say. “You should be stretching or something. I heard your choreographer threatening bodily harm if any of you pull a muscle.”

He huffs. “I already stretched.” He gestures at your foot. “May I?”

You stare at him. “What are you, the physio now?”

“Only for people who are bad at looking after themselves.” His tone is dry, but his gaze is steady, waiting.

“Shouldn’t you be starting with Chan, then?” you mutter.

A small, wry smile tugs at his mouth. “I’ve been trying.”

You hesitate, then extend your leg a little. He takes your ankle gently, fingertips surprisingly careful and warm even through your sock. He presses lightly into the joint, testing the movement.

“Does this hurt?”

“Only my pride,” you say.

His lips twitch. “So yes, then.”

He loosens your laces and adjusts your trainer, retying it more securely. When he lets go, the pressure feels different, more supported.

“Better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you admit, a little thrown. “Actually.”

“Good.” He stands and offers you his hand. “Come on.”

You take it without thinking. His grip is firm as he helps you up.

“Try not to sprint around for the rest of the day,” he adds. “You’re the one who lectures us about ‘long-term health’ every week.”

You squint at him. “Do you… actually listen when I say those things?”

“Apparently more than you do.” He steps back, eyes flicking briefly to your ankle. “If it still hurts tomorrow, tell someone. Don’t be an idiot.”

“You’re very bossy for someone younger than me,” you grumble.

He shrugs. “Someone has to compensate for your terrible life choices.”

You’re still rolling your eyes when the music kicks in again and he jogs back to his spot, slipping effortlessly into formation. But later, when you’re at home and finally take your shoes off, you realise your ankle does hurt less than it had that morning.

You tell yourself it’s just the way he tied your laces.

You don’t think about the way he’d watched you for a full song before saying anything.

౨ৎ

After that, you start noticing him more.

How he always seems to be the first one to grab an extra mic if someone’s cuts out. How he quietly adjusts Hyunjin’s in-ear without making a fuss. How he’s quick with dry comments in interviews, but even quicker to back off if he thinks his joking is actually bothering someone.

“Do you ever stop working?” he asks you one evening, dropping onto the chair opposite your desk in the staff room.

You glance up from the schedule spreadsheet. “Do you?”

He shrugs. “Fair point.”

He’s got a coffee in one hand and a small plastic bag in the other. He puts the bag on your desk.

“What’s that?” you ask warily.

“Food.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why?”

“Because the last time I walked past, you were chewing on the end of a pen,” he says, deadpan. “Which I’m fairly sure has zero nutritional value.”

You stare at him. “…Have you always been this sassy or did I just not notice?”

“You were busy limping around and pretending not to be in love with Chan,” he says, casually.

The air leaves your lungs in a whoosh. “Wow,” you manage. “Subtle.”

His expression softens. “You’re better now, though.”

It’s not really a question. You look down at the bag and peek inside. There’s a neatly wrapped kimbap and a small packet of your favourite crisps.

“I’m getting there,” you say quietly.

He nods once. “Good.”

You tear open the crisps. “You know, for someone who calls me an idiot at least twice a week, you’re surprisingly considerate.”

“I never said you weren’t one of my favourite idiots,” he replies, sipping his coffee.

Your heart does a small, inconvenient flip.

You tell it to calm down. It doesn’t listen.

౨ৎ

You and Seungmin fall into an odd sort of orbit after that.

He starts appearing at your desk more often, asking oddly specific questions about the schedule that you suspect he already knows the answer to.

“So, what time is rehearsal tomorrow?” he asks one afternoon, leaning over your shoulder.

“You literally have it in the group chat,” you reply.

“Yeah, but your version is more accurate.”

“It’s the same version.”

“Yours is in pink highlighter,” he points out. “That makes it feel less aggressive.”

Sometimes he joins you on late-night convenience store runs when practices run long.

“Why do you always get that one?” you ask as he grabs the same brand of yoghurt drink for the third time that week.

“Because I’m loyal,” he says, then glances pointedly at the instant ramen in your basket. “Unlike some people I could mention.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You said last week that was your ‘absolute favourite flavour in the world’,” he mimics your voice. “And now you’ve thrown it over for spicy seafood.”

“It’s called personal growth,” you sniff.

He nudges your shoulder with his. “Mm, sure.”

He notices things.

“You’ve been staring at that screen for twenty minutes,” he says one night in the empty dressing room. “Either you’re very enamoured with that spreadsheet or you’re thinking too much.”

“Is this how you flirt?” you ask, dry.

“Is it working?”

You choke on your own saliva. He laughs, low and pleased, and tosses you a bottle of water.

And then, without you really realising when it happened, he becomes the first person you text when something good or bad happens. The one who sends you photos of funny signs he sees on the way to schedules. The one who asks you, “Have you eaten?” with a raised brow that says he’ll be annoyed with you if the answer is no.

You don’t notice the exact moment your heart switches allegiance. All you know is that one day, Chan walks into the practice room, smiles at you, and your pulse stays calm.

Later that same day, Seungmin sits next to you on the floor, knees touching as he scrolls through dog photos to show you, and you feel your cheeks heat.

You stare at your traitorous hands, resting a little too close to his, and think, Oh.

౨ৎ

Ironically, it’s Chan who notices first.

You and Seungmin are backstage at a music show, pressed into a narrow corridor while technicians wheel equipment past. The boys are due to go on in ten minutes. Felix is stretching his shoulders; Changbin is muttering lyrics under his breath; Jisung is bouncing on his toes, burning off nervous energy.

You’re scanning the running order, making sure you haven’t missed any last-minute changes, when Seungmin leans in.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“Your hair.”

You frown. “What about it?”

He reaches up and gently smooths a strand of hair back, tucking it behind your ear. “There. It was annoying me.”

Your brain short-circuits for a second. “Oh. Thanks.”

His hand lingers a moment too long, fingertips brushing your temple. When he pulls away, there’s a small, satisfied smile on his lips.

You look up and freeze.

Chan is a few metres away, watching the exchange. He’s mid-conversation with the stage manager, but his gaze flickers briefly between you and Seungmin, eyes narrowing just a fraction in thought.

He catches your eye and quickly looks away, plastering a smile back onto his face as he nods along to whatever the staff is saying.

Heat creeps up your neck. You suddenly feel very aware of the small distance between you and Seungmin, of the way his arm presses lightly against yours.

“You’re fidgeting,” Seungmin murmurs.

“I’m not.”

“You are.” He bumps your shoulder. “Relax. You look like you’re about to be the one going onstage.”

“That’s because you are about to go onstage.”

He tilts his head, studying you. “You’re worried.”

“Of course I am,” you mutter. “You’re all running on four hours’ sleep and caffeine.”

“Five,” he corrects. “I had a nap.”

You give him a look.

He smiles, softer now. “We’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”

You open your mouth, then close it again. Instead, you just nod.

He glances at your hand, fingers twitching, and then— slowly, like giving you time to pull away— he takes it.

His palm is warm and dry, fingers slotting between yours with an ease that makes your chest hurt.

“Breathe,” he says quietly. “Yeah?”

You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“Good.” He squeezes your hand once, then lets go as the stage manager calls them to standby.

As he walks away, you feel Chan’s gaze brush your profile again. When you glance over, his expression is unreadable.

౨ৎ

You and Seungmin don’t define anything for a while. It’s a series of almosts— his fingers skimming yours in busy hallways, his hand hovering at your lower back as he guides you through crowds, his teasing texts that sometimes stray a little too close to something else.

Seungmin:

you left your charger in the practice room again

You:

my bad, will get it tmrw

Seungmin:

no you won’t

You:

are you calling me unreliable?

Seungmin:

i’m calling you you

i’ll bring it to you

You:

ok bossy

Seungmin:

you like it

You stare at that last message for longer than you should.

The official shift happens on a rainy Tuesday evening.

Schedules had run long, and by the time you leave the building, the sky has opened properly, sheets of rain drenching the pavement. You stand under the awning, clutching your umbrella, watching cars hiss by in the wet.

“You’re not seriously going to walk home in that.”

You don’t even have to turn to know who it is. “Seungmin, I live fifteen minutes away. I’ll survive.”

He steps up beside you, opening his own umbrella. “Which direction?”

“Spying on my address now?” you tease.

“I’m deciding whether to file a noise complaint,” he replies smoothly. “Which way?”

You roll your eyes and point. He hums. “That’s on my way.”

“It isn’t,” you say immediately. “You live in the opposite direction.”

“Yeah,” he says, entirely unbothered. “But I also live with a group of grown men who absolutely know how to feed themselves. You, however, will probably go home and eat instant noodles.”

You gasp. “How dare you.”

“You literally did that last night.”

You deflate. “Okay, fair.”

“Come on,” he says, stepping out into the rain. “Walk with me.”

You fall into step beside him, umbrellas overlapping slightly. The city glows under streetlights, puddles reflecting neon signs and traffic lights. For a while, you just walk, listening to the soft patter of rain on plastic.

“I like nights like this,” you say quietly.

“Rainy ones?”

“Yeah. Everything feels… slower.”

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “You need slower.”

You snort. “Says the idol whose job is literally running around stages worldwide.”

“Exactly. I’m uniquely qualified to diagnose the condition.”

“And what condition is that?”

“Overworked idiot who thinks rest is optional.”

You bump his shoulder. “Stop calling me an idiot.”

“No,” he says, but there’s a smile in his voice. “What are you thinking about right now?”

You blink. “What?”

“You looked like you were somewhere else,” he says. “Where were you?”

You hesitate. Normally, you’d laugh it off, deflect with a stupid joke. But the rain, the quiet street, the way he’s really looking at you— it all makes you braver than usual.

“I was thinking about… timing,” you admit. “How unfair it can be.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Because of Chan?”

You stare down at the wet pavement. “Not exactly. Not anymore. Just… thinking how a few years ago, if someone had told me I’d be walking home in the rain with Kim Seungmin, I’d have laughed in their face.”

“Oh?” he says lightly. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” you say quickly. “That’s not— I mean…” You exhale, breath fogging the air. “I used to be so stuck on one idea of what my life should look like. One person. One… version of happiness. And when it didn’t work out, I just assumed that was it. That I’d missed my chance and everything else was just… consolation prize.”

“And now?” he asks quietly.

“Now I know I was being dramatic,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Because I didn’t know there were other ways to feel—” You stop yourself before you say this safe, this seen.

Seungmin slows, then comes to a stop under a streetlight. Rain drums steadily around you. You look up at him, confused.

“What?” you ask.

He looks at you for a long moment, the usual mischief in his eyes replaced by something softer, more open.

“Do you like me?” he asks.

The question lands between you with surprising gentleness. No teasing, no theatrics. Just simple, direct words, spoken like he already knows the answer.

Your heart thumps unhelpfully.

“That’s a very arrogant question,” you say, trying to deflect.

He tilts his head slightly. “Is it wrong?”

You chew on your bottom lip. “You’re very… sure of yourself.”

“I’m very sure of you,” he corrects. “Which is weird, because you clearly have no idea.”

“Seungmin—”

“If you don’t,” he adds quickly, “if I’ve misread everything, tell me. I’ll shut up. We can go back to me bullying you about your snack choices and pretending I don’t care whether you rest or not.”

Something in your chest squeezes.

You think of the coffees, the snacks, the way he steals your pen just to give it back with a stupid flourish. The way he stands a little closer than necessary. The way he noticed your ankle when no one else did. The way he’s quietly shifted his route home just to match yours.

You think of Chan’s studio, the way your confession fell awkward and hopeful into the dim light. The way your heart had shattered and slowly, slowly put itself back together.

You think of how you feel now, standing under a flickering street lamp with Seungmin, rain pounding a steady rhythm around you.

“I do,” you say.

His brow furrows. “You do… what?”

“Like you.” You exhale, a shaky laugh leaving your chest. “A lot, actually. Which is very annoying, because you’re very smug about it.”

A slow grin spreads across his face, bright even in the dull light. “I knew it.”

“You’re unbearable.”

“You like that too,” he says, and then his expression sobers. “Can I…?”

He doesn’t finish the question, but you understand. You nod, heartbeat roaring in your ears.

He steps closer, shifting his umbrella slightly so he can see your face properly. Raindrops catch on his lashes, his fringe damp. He lifts his free hand, fingers brushing your cheek, then your jaw, giving you one last chance to pull away.

You don’t.

He leans in and kisses you, soft and unhurried, like you have all the time in the world.

It’s not fireworks and orchestras and the world spinning off its axis. It’s something quieter— a warmth that blooms low in your chest and unfurls slowly, wrapping around all the old aches and whispering, See? It can be like this too.

When he pulls back, there’s a faint flush on his cheeks, but his eyes are steady.

“Just so we’re clear,” he says, voice slightly rough. “This isn’t a consolation prize.”

“I know,” you say, and you do. “You couldn’t be a consolation prize if you tried.”

“Good.” He presses a quick kiss to your forehead, smirking. “Because I don’t come second to anyone.”

You laugh, the sound carried away by the rain.

౨ৎ

People find out gradually.

Hyunjin shrieks when he catches you and Seungmin holding hands in the practice room. Jisung won’t stop making exaggerated kissy faces for an entire week. Felix beams so brightly you’re genuinely worried he might combust. Minho just gives Seungmin a long, assessing look and says, “Don’t be weird about it,” which is his way of approving.

You’re more careful in public, but around the team and core staff, you don’t hide it. It feels too big to tuck away into shadows.

And Chan… well.

You don’t know exactly when he pieces it together, but one evening, you walk into the studio to drop off revised schedules and find him mid-conversation with Seungmin. They fall abruptly silent when they see you.

“…Am I interrupting?” you ask cautiously.

“No,” Chan says quickly. “We were just— uh—”

“Talking about you,” Seungmin supplies smoothly.

Chan shoots him a helpless look. You blink. “Oh. Should I be worried?”

“Probably,” Seungmin says.

“Definitely not,” Chan says at the same time.

You snort. “That’s reassuring.”

Seungmin steps towards you, brushing your hand briefly with his. “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay? Don’t let him bully you into doing another all-nighter.”

“Oi,” Chan protests.

“I mean it,” Seungmin says, ignoring him. He looks at you, gaze briefly soft. “Ten minutes.”

“Got it,” you say.

He leaves, closing the door gently behind him. The studio feels oddly quiet in his absence. You turn to Chan, suddenly very aware that you’re alone.

You hold out the folder. “Updated schedules for next week.”

“Thanks,” he says, taking it. His fingers brush yours briefly. “How are you?”

You blink at the question. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Can’t I ask?”

“You can, but you usually lead with ‘Sorry, can you do me a favour?’”

He huffs a small laugh. “I am trying to improve.”

You smile, but there’s a tension in the air that wasn’t there before. You hover for a moment, unsure whether to leave.

“Y/N,” he says suddenly.

“Yeah?”

He stares at his hands. “When did you… start dating Seungmin?”

Your pulse stutters. “Um. A while ago.”

“Right.”

You chew your lip. “Is that… okay?”

He looks up sharply. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… you’re the leader. Maybe there’s some unwritten ‘no dating staff’ rule I missed.”

He snorts. “If there is, they’ve never told me about it.” He sobers, fingers tightening around the folder. “I just… I wanted to make sure you’re happy. That’s all.”

You study him. There’s something careful about his expression, like he’s holding himself still.

“I am,” you say quietly. “I’m really happy.”

A flicker of something crosses his face— pain, regret, something small and bitter— but it’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a soft smile.

“Good,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. “He’s… good. Seungmin.”

“He is,” you agree, warmth curling in your chest at the thought.

Chan looks at the monitors, then back at you. “Can we… talk? Properly. Not right now, maybe. Just— at some point.”

Your stomach twists. You’ve known this moment might come, but you’d hoped, selfishly, that you could just glide past it forever.

“Okay,” you say. “Just tell me when.”

౨ৎ

It happens two days later.

You’re half expecting him to text you late at night, ask you to drop by the studio after everyone’s left. Instead, he catches you after practise, when the others have already shuffled out, laughing and shoving as they head to the showers.

“Y/N,” he says, leaning in the doorway. “Got a minute?”

Seungmin looks up from where he’s fiddling with his phone. His eyes flick between you and Chan, and his jaw tenses almost imperceptibly.

“You good?” he asks you quietly.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll meet you in the lobby?”

He studies your face for a heartbeat, then nods. “Text me if you need rescuing.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s not going to murder me, Seungmin.”

“Well, he did reject you once,” he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Chan to hear. Chan chokes on his own saliva.

“Go,” you urge, shoving lightly at his shoulder. “You smell like sweat.”

He gasps. “Rude.”

You watch him leave, then turn to Chan. “So. What’s up?”

He jerks his head towards the studio. “Come here for a sec?”

The familiarity of the room hits you as soon as you step inside. Same scuffed rug, same mismatched cushions, same faint smell of coffee and dust and creativity. You remember standing in almost this exact spot two years ago, heart in your throat.

Chan closes the door gently behind you, then walks over to his usual chair, but doesn’t sit. He rests his hands on the back instead, fingers drumming restlessly.

“I’ve been… thinking,” he says finally.

“That sounds dangerous,” you reply, because humour is easier than the knot in your stomach.

He huffs a weak laugh. “Yeah.”

Silence stretches. You watch him, waiting.

“I owe you an apology,” he says at last.

Your gut twists. “Chan—”

“No, listen— please.” He takes a breath, eyes fixed on his hands. “When you confessed to me… I handled it badly.”

“You were honest,” you say. “That’s not bad.”

“I was honest about the symptoms,” he says. “Not the cause.”

You frown. “I don’t follow.”

He lifts his gaze to yours. “I told you I couldn’t give you what you deserved because of work, because of my responsibilities, because I was too busy. And that was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth.”

“What was the whole truth, then?” you ask, voice low.

He swallows. “I was scared.”

Your chest aches. “Scared of what?”

“Of letting you down,” he says. “Of getting it wrong. Of being selfish enough to say yes when I knew I’d be exhausted all the time, distracted all the time, asking you to understand things you shouldn’t have to.” He exhales, shoulders slumping. “I thought that by saying no, I was protecting you. That you’d… move on faster without having to deal with me half-loving you between deadlines.”

The word hangs in the air like a dropped glass.

“Half?” you say, heart hammering.

His lips twist. “I… liked you. Maybe more than liked. I just… refused to look at it too closely. Because if I did, I knew I’d give in. And the group was still finding its feet, and I felt like I couldn’t afford to be… anything but focused.”

You stare at him, a dozen memories rearranging themselves in your head. The extra coffees. The late-night conversations. The way he’d always seemed to know when you were having a bad day, even when you didn’t say anything.

“Why are you telling me this now?” you ask, not unkindly.

“Because for a long time, I thought I’d done the right thing,” he says, voice quiet. “I told myself you’d get over it, that you deserved someone who could actually show up. And then I watched you and Seungmin.”

Your throat tightens.

“He looks at you like you hang the moon,” Chan says, a faint, bittersweet smile on his lips. “He notices things I used to notice before I forced myself to stop. He walks you home. He makes sure you eat. He teases you until you laugh on days when I’m too buried in my own head to see anything past my laptop screen.” He takes a shaky breath. “And I realised that the thing I thought I was doing for you… I was mostly doing for me.”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“I told myself I was being noble,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself. “But it was easier to say no and bury it than to admit I wanted you and still might not be enough. I was cowarding out, basically. And in the process, I hurt you. And then I just… let that hurt sit. I never cleared it properly.” He looks at you, eyes earnest. “You deserved better than that. You deserve better than me pretending it never happened.”

Emotion burns behind your eyes. You look down at your hands.

“I did wait,” you say quietly. “For a while.”

He flinches.

“Not… forever,” you add quickly. “But I waited. I thought maybe once things calmed down, once you’d settled a bit, you’d come back and say you’d changed your mind.” You laugh, small and self-deprecating. “Then I realised your job is never really going to calm down. And neither is mine. So I had to stop waiting or I’d just… stay stuck.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice thick. “I never wanted you to feel like you were waiting for something that was never going to happen.”

“But it did happen,” you say, meeting his gaze. “Just not with you.”

A faint, sad smile flickers over his face. “Yeah. I see that.”

You take a breath. “You’re right, though. About Seungmin. He… shows up. Even when he’s tired, even when he’s busy. He doesn’t make me feel like I’m an extra task on a checklist.” You shrug. “It’s not big grand gestures. It’s… him turning up with my favourite snack after a long day. Or texting me just to ask if I got home safe. Or noticing when I’m quiet.”

“Sounds familiar,” Chan says, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “A little.”

He looks at the floor, jaw working. “I’m really happy for you,” he says, and this time you can hear the honesty through the ache. “I mean that. Even if it… hurts, sometimes, when I think about what I could’ve done differently.”

“You were doing your best,” you say. “We both were. We were just… different people then.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “You got wiser. I just got more sleep-deprived.”

“Hey, you’ve grown too,” you protest. “You apologise faster now.”

“That’s growth?” he asks.

“For you? Definitely.”

He smiles properly, the tension easing a little.

“For what it’s worth,” you add, “I don’t regret telling you. Or… liking you. It hurt, but it also… made room for the person I ended up with.” You shrug. “We wouldn’t be here without that.”

He nods, eyes shining faintly. “I’m glad you didn’t wait forever.”

“So am I,” you say, meaning it.

He hesitates, then steps closer, holding out his hand. “Friends?”

You look at it, then up at him.

“Friends,” you say, taking it.

His grip is warm and steady, and for the first time, the old ache in your chest feels like something finally, properly laid to rest.

౨ৎ

You find Seungmin leaning against the lobby wall, scrolling on his phone. He looks up as you approach, eyes immediately scanning your face for signs of distress.

“You survived,” he says.

“Disappointed?” you ask.

“A little,” he admits. “I was looking forward to a dramatic rescue.”

You snort. “You’d get distracted by a dog on the way and forget what you were doing.”

He gasps. “Untrue. I can multitask. I would absolutely rescue you and pet the dog.”

“Your priorities are very concerning.”

“My priorities are excellent,” he says, straightening and taking your bag from your shoulder without asking. “You just happen to be one of them.”

Warmth flutters in your chest. You bump his arm lightly. “We talked,” you say.

“I figured,” he replies. “You look like someone who just let go of a very heavy backpack.”

“That’s… weirdly accurate.”

He glances at you. “You okay?”

You consider the question. Think of the studio, of Chan’s apology, of the way the ghost of your old crush finally loosened its grip.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’m okay.”

He nods once, accepting your answer. “Good.” Then, with mock seriousness: “If he made you cry, I’m pushing his chair over in the next meeting.”

You laugh. “He didn’t. I promise.”

“Shame,” he muses. “Would’ve been fun to watch.”

“You’re evil.”

“You like that,” he says, the words so familiar now they feel like a private joke.

You do. You really, really do.

౨ৎ

Months later, at a team dinner, someone makes a comment that finally puts everything into sharp, almost comical relief.

You’re squeezed into a long table at a restaurant, empty plates and side dishes scattered everywhere. The boys are loud and loose, laughing over some story Jisung’s telling. You’re perched between Seungmin and Felix, half listening, half texting a colleague about tomorrow’s call time.

Seungmin drops a piece of meat into your bowl without looking, still engaged in an argument with Changbin about some game.

“Eat,” he says absently.

“I was going to,” you mutter, but you take a bite anyway.

Across the table, one of the stylists watches the exchange, eyes flicking between you and Seungmin, then over to Chan, who’s quietly topping up everyone’s water glasses.

“You know,” she says, grinning, “I always thought you and Chan would end up together.”

The table goes briefly, awkwardly quiet. Your chopsticks pause halfway to your mouth.

“But seeing you with Seungmin now…” She gestures vaguely between you two. “You suit each other so well. It just makes sense.”

Time seems to slow for a second.

You risk a glance at Chan. He’s frozen, jug in hand, expression carefully blank. Then he clears his throat, smile returning a fraction too bright.

“Yeah,” he says, voice light. “They do.”

Heat rushes to your face. You open your mouth to deflect, but Seungmin beats you to it. He simply reaches over and casually adjusts the collar of your shirt, fingers deft, like he’s done it a thousand times before.

“Obviously,” he says. “She’d be miserable with anyone else.”

You choke. “Excuse me?”

He gives you an innocent look. “What? You’d be late, unhydrated, and your ankle would definitely be in pieces by now.”

“Wow,” you say. “Romantic.”

He leans in, voice dropping just low enough for only you to hear. “You know what I mean.”

You do. Your cheeks burn, but you can’t stop smiling.

Across the table, Chan watches for a moment, then looks down at his plate. When he looks up again, he catches your eye and gives you a small, genuine smile. There’s a hint of sadness lingering at the edges, but it no longer feels like an open wound— more like an old scar you both acknowledge.

You smile back, and that feels like its own kind of ending.

౨ৎ

Later that night, you and Seungmin walk home together. The city is quieter, streetlights casting long shadows on the pavement. He hooks his pinky through yours, swinging your hands between you.

“Tired?” he asks.

“A bit,” you admit. “You?”

“I’ve been tired since 2018,” he says. “It’s my personality now.”

You snort.

He glances at you, then gently tugs you closer, slipping his arm around your shoulders. You melt into the warmth instinctively, head resting against his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hmm?”

“If you’re tired,” he continues, “lean on me. I’ll carry the heavy stuff. You just have to walk next to me.”

The words are simple, almost off-hand, but they land somewhere deep, somewhere that remembers late nights in studios and unanswered wishes and the feeling of always coming second to something you couldn’t compete with.

You look up at him, your chest full.

“Okay,” you say. “But only if you let me carry yours too.”

He smiles, a small, secret thing. “Deal.”

You walk the rest of the way like that— in step, shoulders touching, the future not some grand, glittering promise, but a series of ordinary nights like this one. Quiet, honest, shared.

In a studio several floors above, Chan sits alone in front of his computer, headphones on, a half-finished melody looping gently. Through the window, he can just make out the street below, two small figures walking side by side.

He watches you both for a moment, something bittersweet tugging at his ribs. Then he smiles to himself, presses play, and gets back to work.

He’d made his choice years ago.

You made yours now.

And for the first time, all the timelines sit comfortably together in your chest— the girl who once stood under harsh studio lights with her heart in her hands, the woman now leaning under the soft glow of a streetlamp against someone who always, unfailingly, shows up.

Good for you. Bittersweet for him.

But right for everyone.

You tighten your arm around Seungmin’s waist, and he squeezes your shoulder in reply, as if to say, I’m here.

You smile into the night, and keep walking.

[everglowdaisies]

i criedddd

[gingerayen]

ᦓꫝꫀ᥅ꪶꪮᥴᛕ - ᛕ꠸ꪑ ᦓꫀꪊꪀᧁꪑ꠸ꪀ

Synopsis: Seungmin goes into a spiral trying to figure out what he could have done wrong to make you so upset that you're giving him the silent treatment.

Word count: 2,5k

Genre: fluff

ENJOYYYYY!

Oh, this is no good. Nuh-uh. This cannot be happening.

Seungmin must have seriously pissed off the big boss upstairs because there is actually no way his favorite person—his baby, his little love—is giving him the silent treatment today.

After a 12-hour bender of a filming session—one that included all those stupid games where he and his bandmates have to manhandle each other, nearly kiss during an impromptu Pepero challenge with disgustingly dry, tasteless rice cakes, cook for STAY aaaaaaaand, on top of that, perform four songs while constantly plastering on a happy face despite the exhaustion, seeing the same faces in the crowd that follow them around like they’re some kind of circus attraction—it’s easy to say that taking a quick shower and cuddling up to your side while he passes out until late afternoon, tangled up with you, sounds like a dream.

But noooooooooo. You have to give him the silent treatment for absolutely no fucking reason. Or at least Seungmin hasn’t been able to find one in the 15 minutes he just spent spiraling in his own head, searching vigorously through his memories for a single moment where he could have possibly upset you enough for you to not only refuse to speak to him, but to not even glance in his general direction.

Absolute abomination. This should be considered a hate crime against baseball-addicted, puppy-like, exhausted, overworked idols.

He has to lock in now. Focus. Strategize. This is not the time to panic—this is the time to deploy countermeasures.

Clearly, something has gone terribly, catastrophically wrong, and as the devoted boyfriend and self-appointed Minister of Domestic Peace, it is his civic duty to identify the offense before this escalates into a full-blown Cold War. He needs intel. A timeline. Witness statements. Was it something he said? Something he didn’t say? Did he forget to send the “text me when you get home” text right before you were supposed to finish work? Rookie mistake. Unforgivable. But sadly, that's not it. He made sure to call you during one of their breaks.

He has to figure out what upset you so he can escalate properly—because this is all about balance. Too little groveling? Arrogant. Too much? Suspicious. He needs the perfect ratio of yearning to dignity. A carefully calibrated blend of soft apologies, dramatic sighs, and just enough pathetic whimpering to communicate: I am but a humble man, undone by your silence.

Maybe he should call his PR manager. Surely there’s a damage control protocol for this. A flowchart. A pre-approved statement. Step one: Admit fault (even if fault is currently theoretical). Step two: Express deep emotional devastation. Step three: Offer snacks. Step four: Initiate physical affection, proceed with caution.

He is aiming for a full de-escalation by bedtime. Desired outcome: cuddles secured. Bonus objective: soft morning in bed, limbs tangled, sunlight filtering through the curtains as you forgive him wordlessly by pressing your face into his chest. Ideal endgame: natural migration to the couch by noon, where he can pretend to watch baseball highlights while secretly memorizing the exact way you breathe when you nap on him.

THE CALL - he suddenly remembers. You didn't seem like you had any issues during the call; quite the contrary. You were chipper, excited to have him at home, wishing him to have fun, like you do every single day when they have long hours of both physical and mental work. So whatever offence caused this cold-shoulder escapade must have occurred after the phone call.

Think Seungmin, think!!!! What could have resulted in your bubbly, loving, attached, clingy in the best way girlfriend to not be able to look at you?

He got into the company car and rushed back to the dorm with Felix to grab your laptop charger—the one he accidentally took a week ago, and you were in desperate need of. Then he drove home to you in a hurry, because despite the exhaustion, seeing you was the real end-of-day reward.

You were still out to get groceries when he arrived, and you let him know about that in text, still sounding chipper and excited to have a night in with him. No red flags. No passive-aggressive punctuation. No suspiciously dry “k.” Nothing.

Since you weren’t home, he hopped in the shower. He got dressed in record time afterward, did his skincare so he wouldn’t break out from the industrial-grade makeup they plastered on him all day, and mentally prepared himself for the grand reunion.

He walked into the kitchen to greet you — and you did not greet him back.

In fact, you had a pout. Not a cute one. Not a teasing one. A full-blown sad, disappointed to the core of a pout. Your eyes very clearly communicated: Do not step into my two-meter radius.

So he retreated. Strategic withdrawal, he called it.

He relocated to the living room, confused and utterly defeated by the surprise blow—one that, if not handled with extreme precision, otherwise, this could lead to being banned to the couch indefinitely. The absolute worst case scenario here.

He has to look for evidence. Any tiny sign that could hint at what went wrong between the cheerful grocery-run text and the moment he stepped out of the shower.

He starts at the entrance, scanning the area carefully. Did he leave his shoes or backpack in the way? Could you have tripped over something he absentmindedly dropped? But as he usually does—because he is, unfortunately, a clean freak—everything is perfectly aligned. Shoes tucked away. Backpack hung properly. The floor spotless. No bunched-up rug, no spilled groceries, nothing that suggests you stumbled the second you walked into the apartment.

The bathroom is immaculate, too. He even left the fan running so the fog would clear faster. He deliberately didn’t use your favorite moisturizer—despite being tempted—because it’s your favorite, and you mentioned it’s impossible to find lately. Ever since he used it in a SKZ-Talker a few weeks ago out of pure reflex, it’s been sold out everywhere.

For a moment, he starts to think his detective work is futile.

And then he finds the crime scene.

In the bedroom.

PuppyM—the teddy bear version—is lying face down on the floor. Lifeless.

You are usually very particular about where he sits. Either perfectly centered on the bed when it’s made during the day or carefully placed on your vanity chair while the two of you sleep. It matters, because this PuppyM plushie is the one you cuddle on the nights Seungmin is away—which, unfortunately, is often. He brought it home for that exact reason: to soften the blow of not being able to offer the comfort he wishes he could most days of the year. A consolation prize in plush form.

And PuppyM is not on the floor because he knocked it down.

You threw it there.

He distinctly remembers it sitting in its rightful place when he first walked in. Which means this happened afterward. While he was in the shower.

Oh. This is bad-bad. Worse than he expected.

He has to call in a lifeline. So he reaches for his phone, dialling your best friend, questioning her like a key witness, trying to find out if she got any information on why you could be mad at him. By the end of the call, he concludes that either:

a.) you didn't tell her about the offense.

or

b.) she is withholding key information that would help his investigation.

But then, something peculiar happens. A text comes in, from none other than Hwang Hyunjin.

"You're the worst boyfriend, Kim Seungmin."

He dials instantly, demanding information.

"Oh, you don't even know what you did!" Hyunjin laughs out loud, clearly amused by Seungmin's desperation.

"No, I don't. So please tell me before I go ballistic, I need my cuddles, I don't want to spend the three days I have off being ignored by my girlfriend," he implodes, and he's not far from begging.

"I will tell you on one condition." Hyunjin says, empathetic to the situation. He would be the same if he were in the same boat, finally able to spend time with his significant other, but unable to enjoy it due to some dispute or misunderstanding.

"I'll do anything, just please tell me."

"One word: Daengmo."

"...Daengmo??!!!!" now Seungmin is even more confused. What does a stuffed animal from Ikea have to do with his girlfriend being mad at him?????

"Yes. You didn't get her one." Hyunjin exlains and Seungmin is still stunned.

"Why would she want a Daengmo? I got her all versions of PuppyM and we already have a Daegmo here at home."

"Yeah, but think about it: you gave everyone at today's shoot one, besides your girlfriend, the person you're away from for two-thirds of the year, the person you've abandoned all day, who wanted you to remember her love for plushies and get her one from the dozens you purchased for STAY, as a sign you thought about her too." Oh. This makes sense. But Hyunjin continues. "And the one you have at home, you keep it on a shelf, as a relic from an old shoot, that's not for her. She wants her own."

Seungmin goes quiet.

Okay. Yes, going nonverbal over this sounds childish on paper. But he gets it. He understands how it feels like a betrayal.

He was attentive all day. Warm, generous, smiling for STAY. Thoughtful enough to prepare gifts and make everyone feel special.

And you—who can’t attend these shoots because the company deemed it too risky—you show up differently. You cook dinner. You grocery shop so he doesn’t have to leave the house during his days off. You keep up with news about him. You read his Bubble messages. You support him quietly, constantly, even when it hurts not to be there in person.

You just wanted him to show up for you today. To prove that even when you’re not physically there, you’re still on his mind. And he failed you. Oh yeah, he messed up big time.

“What do you want in return for this information?” Seungmin asks after a few seconds of processing the damage.

“My own Daengmo. And if I don’t receive it tonight like she will, I will personally make sure she stays mad at you. We’re in an alliance. These are the terms we established for peace.”

“I hate you,” Seungmin mutters.

Hyunjin laughs and tells him he’s lying before hanging up.

Seungmin throws on a hoodie, grabs his keys, and shouts a rushed, “Be right back!” before bolting out of the apartment.

He drives back to the JYP building, knowing there were a few plushies left over from the shoot. Staff had set them aside to give to Felix, who’s scheduled to visit a pediatric ward at a nearby hospital. The puppy plushies would offer at least a little comfort to the kids there.

Once inside the building, he heads straight to the Div1 floor and storms into the storage room assigned to their group’s belongings. He practically turns the place upside down searching for the box. Eventually, he calls his manager—apologizing profusely for the late-night call after such a long day—but once he explains the situation, the manager is more than willing to help him remove the metaphorical brick wall currently standing between him and a peaceful night with his girlfriend.

When he finally finds the box, he pulls out two plushies. There aren’t many left, so he immediately texts his manager to order two more boxes to ensure there’s no shortage for the hospital visit. He also asks to be scheduled for a visit himself once he’s back from fashion week.

With the goods secured, he rushes to his hyungs’ dorm and throws one of the plushies at Hyunjin the second the door opens. A very confused Changbin watches from the hallway, rubbing his eyes after being woken up by Seungmin’s aggressive massacre of the doorbell—ignored on purpose by Hyunjin to slow him down. Some friends he has.

On the way home, he stops by a convenience store and grabs a small bouquet. It’s nowhere near as grand as he originally envisioned, but it will have to do. He steps back into the apartment, peace offering in hand, and is immediately greeted by the unmistakable scent of kimchi fried rice lingering in the air.

Maybe this isn’t as catastrophic as he feared. Because if you were truly, inconsolably mad at him, you wouldn’t have cooked.

He finds you still in the kitchen, stirring the stew and tasting it, adjusting the flavor one last time.

He walks up quietly. He’s sure you’re aware of his presence—you glanced at him from the corner of your eye the second he stepped into the room. Your lips even twitched upward at the sight of him… but you quickly masked it with that sad expression.

Now that he’s looking properly, he can tell it’s forced.

Bingo.

Without a word, he gently places Daengmo on your left shoulder. Then he starts moving the plushie around as if it’s alive, making it gesture dramatically while he switches to a high-pitched voice, imitating a tiny, distressed puppy.

“Woof, woof, little love! I am Daengmo, and I am here to mend your broken heart, which was tragically wounded by your idiotic boyfriend. He was very busy and very ignorant today—so ignorant that he forgot to bring me home to you. But now I am here! I will love you and cuddle you to sleep. However,” the plushie turns slightly toward him, “it would be very nice if you made amends with Seungmin Oppa. He is very sorry and wants nothing more than a quiet night with you.”

You break.

A laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, the hurt completely dissolving from your face. You spin around and snatch Daengmo from Seungmin’s hands, clutching it dramatically to your chest.

“Don’t worry, Daengmo,” you coo, “I wasn’t even that mad at your Oppa. I just heard him muttering about ‘diplomacy,’ ‘crisis management,’ and a ‘thorough investigation,’ and I wanted to see what he would do to figure out what was wrong.”

Seungmin’s jaw drops.

For a full second.

Then the shock melts into pure amusement as he bursts out laughing and pulls you into his chest at the same time. He buries his face in your hair, still chuckling like a maniac, pressing small kisses to the top of your head as the tension finally drains from his body.

“God, I love you so much,” he says into your hair, grinning at your antics. You keep him on edge in the best way—exactly how he does with his bandmates. You really were made for him.

“I love you too, Minnie. Welcome home,” you whisper, arms wrapped tightly around his torso, your face tucked into his chest.

This is what Seungmin calls a successful mission.

Crisis — averted. Cuddles — acquired. Girlfriend — satisfied.

[everglowdaisies]

STFU THAT WAS SO CUTE

[baby-yongbok]

Poly SKZ!Fake Texts - Nudes?

ʚ You want them to send more nudes, Seungmin and Jeongin want their credit cards back ɞ

⤷ Crack | Suggestive [MDNI] ⤷ Content Count - 21 screenshots ⋆｡‧˚ʚ Masterlist ɞ˚‧｡⋆

❥Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

❥ Taglist is Closed!

All Content Taglist : @wealwayskeepfighting @whokno-ows @stay-tiny-things @yaorzu-blog @krayzieestay @nxtt2-u  @armystay89 @kayleefriedchicken @compersian  @kibs-and-bits @whokno-ows @poppet05 @estella-novella @unbel1ve4ble @pixie-felix @catsforlife6864 @lisaskz @chloe-elise-2000 @jaeminie-cricket @gingerrracha @wickedbutlovely @lolareadsimagines @h00d-tr4sh @felixleftchickennugget @jeyelleohe @hanjiyunho @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie @iminc0gnito @dreamingaboutjisung @lixiluvs @teddy-stay @baconcupcakes123 @soulsbbg @stay-bi @yzsqu @lghtdarling @joonkki @my_neurodivergent_world @tricky-ritz @linospetsitter @0sunshinecryptidd @miyaluvvsyou @chansfavoriterubberducky @felixleftchickennugget @babygay2005 @stellasays45 @corgilover20 @bx-lov3 @myrkhive @kttb @rockstarkkami

@cowboylikemalika @angellcvkes @caitlyn98s @camryn-haitani @felixsonlyrealwife @binnie-c @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @bbokarismeow @hannahlue @nctdreamchaser @tangerineastronaut @lezleeferguson-120 @d4ily-s-nsh1ne @staytinyluva @iyenabi @sammhisphere @hhjlvr @geni-627 @thvsuga @staytinyluva @hanjifangirlie @breakmeoff @quaxing-lour @piratepunk-mae

If your name is bold & italic, then your account didn't pop up when tagged!

Fake Texts ONLY (all): @dollxkill @vernorica124 @alnex05 @deaddcrow @bunnyyluvv

[everglowdaisies]

LOL

[cherry-heartss]

are we interrupting something...

bonus:

[everglowdaisies]

HAHAHA

[pineapple-burgah]

𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙙 𝙈𝙚

kim seungmin x reader fake texts!

this is based off a dream i had the other night in which seungmin was my boyfriend but he wouldn't hold my hand and i was sulking about it but he hated that i was sad and did everything he could to get my attention. thought i'd turn it into a text scenario.

summary: seungmin won't hold your hand, and you get sulky about it. but he loves you so much, how can he resist you?

cw: strong language, comfort, fluff, crack, suggestive, mentions of anxiety sc: 7 a/n: guys what's it mean when your bias wrecker shows up in your dreams madly in love with you? what do i do with that?

masterlist

taglist:

@red40sperson @cherrybliss @kathaelipwse @eluvsp1hskzbtstxtatzaao @iconicallyher @toesy3 @xallyouneedislovexx @sleepykittycx @amazingphan143 @tiapatito202278ok @putlonghatdog @theauthorofsmut @kimjikm @luvvvivi @porangporangxlinosxx @felixglow @blablamerra @bee-gremlin @geni-627 @bahngarang @s1mpf0rda1k1 @savvystay @tsumiyaa @crypticcompassion @inishij @max-1404 @chansfilmms @summercoldstuff @brookesmultifandomhell @leeknowz-pudding @bekindtourself @cb97nini9694 @loveconsumingmedia @casazrhys @gisssswiftie @meo-neo @straykidzsimp @treslechesracho @grace-928 @hyunjinniemylove @nojerama-writes @hrtsfra @wolflc @wonderstruckbyyou @ela-31 @grace-xyzz @foureyes13 @jaidawouldneva @sweetestangel777 @ebnabi

[everglowdaisies]

AWWW

[starmy-sky]

My Home

Pairing: OT8!SKZ x Fem!Reader

Summary: You find a strange group of animals cowering by a bush near your cottage; a wolf, a cat, a bunny, a ferret, a quokka, a chick, a puppy, and a fennec fox. They are huddled together as if they were all they had, looking so scared and small, so you take them in despite their seemingly initial mistrust. You don't expect that a few days later, there'll be eight men walking around in your tiny cottage.

Tags: Fluff, SKZoo!Hybrid AU, Implied Polyamory, Reader lives in a secluded cottage in a small village, Stay Week Special

Wordcount: 3.9K (Masterlist)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Your world knew not of anything outside your village, to you, the outside is the just village square, the shops, the neighbors, and the inside was your little cottage filled with trinkets, fabrics, and ribbons.

You were a seamstress, a high demand in a small village with limited talent, so you never yearn for a bigger life when you were an integral part of your home already. Perhaps daughters and wives knew the stiches, but you elevated the craft.

With a cottage surrounded by trees, a stroll away from the market by a stone path, vegetables growing in your garden, and stacks of orders awaiting their turn for your sewing machine, your life was far too filled to start thinking of the existential.

But as you grow older everyday, and you hear middle aged housewives talking about 'the girl living in that cottage that seems to be planning to become an old maid', you do feel that your mornings are much too cold despite the sun shining through you window, and your nights too quiet despite the sewing machine blaring into the early hours of midnight while you were in one of your creative flow.

Then again, how could you meet anyone if you refuse to leave your house for anything not out of necessity.

So you shake of the tiny bud of despair that begins to take shape in your heart. You love what you do and what you have, but you can't help but wonder if you're letting yourself slowly rot in this place you call home.

You're cottage is your whole world, and right now, it has a population of one, and a bunch of things that you busy yourself with, things that seem a mess, but each have burned a place in your home.

So of course, you notice the first time things start to disappear from your home; bread left on the table, a blanket you were sure you left on the couch, the carrots you planted in your garden, the pillow you put on your lap when your hand sewing a garment.

Perhaps it's a thief, but it never took anything truly valuable. And you make sure to lock your doors whenever you leave, if a thief were to weasel their way in, would they not so much as to leave a trace?

"It's not like they can fit through the window..." You mumble to yourself, looking for the apple you know you left on the table. You rule out the possibility that it may be a thief, as no person can fit through the small space you leave the window open to let in a draft.

You sigh, grabbing a basket to head to the market for the second time this week. Usually, you would only need to go once, but it seems as if you were eating for yourself and an invisible companion.

...

After that excursion, you were walking back to your cottage as the sun begins to set. The wind was calm as it usually is, the path silence as you know it.

The way was so familiar and monotonous that it doesn't take you long to hear rustling by the bushes along the path. It could be an animal, but usually the only animals present there are birds you don't even land on the bushes.

The rustling seems so coordinated with your steps, it slows down when you do and stops when you halt. You look back, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to make out what exactly is the sound following you.

You step closer, careful to not alert whatever it was of your homing presence.

But as you do, you flinch and yelp as something jumps out of the bushes to your face. You back away, letting go of your basket in the process.

It runs wild, refusing to let you get closer as it goes for your basket, quickly grabbing something before making a fun for it.

It runs straight through the path, making it clear to you that it was a white-furred ferret.

"Hey!" You chase after the snow white ferret, it's long body wiggling at the speed of it's pace.

But still no match for a human. It slows down to catch a breath, slow enough for you to block its way with your legs. "Gotcha!"

It stands in fear, so expressive that you can even discern it from its eyes. And suddenly... It collapses to the ground, paw on head and everything, you didn't even touch it.

You tilt your head in confusion, stepping closer to the little animal.

It didn't budge from it's position, as if pretending to be dead. "Dramatic much, huh?" You crouched to pick up the tiny little thing, holding it in your arms like a baby. "You're cute for a little thief..."

Slowly, it opens its eyes, peeking to look at you. You gaze softens at its cute little face. You look down to see what it took from your basket, only to see that it was bandages that you bought to restock your first aid kit. "Why would you even need that...?"

You inspect the ferret, see that despite the slight tint of dirt patching on its fur, it didn't seem to be injured in any way.

Suddenly, a growl echoes from behind you, your bones chilling at the sound. Slowly, you turn around to see a snarling wolf looking back at you.

Chills run down your spine and instinctively, your arms tighten around the little ferret.

It must want to eat the ferret, or you for that matter. And it probably didn't matter the order of who it'll eat first.

Wait... but you've never seen a wolf in this forest, they usually head far east, where the moon rises and the preys are plenty. This wolf may be extra hungry.

"Please..." You find yourself talking to the wolf, whose growl echoes from its throat. "We were just leaving..."

The ferret squeaks in your arms, and you think that you see the wolf falter a bit, it's eyes looking at the little creature in your arms.

Their gaze seem to lock and the wolf starts to step closer.

"W-Wait!" You put a hand in front of you, a signal to stop. It didn't listen, still moving forward, but it made you notice the limp in its hind leg.

Just then, the ferret jumps from your arms, grabbing the bandages and running straight to the wolf. You try to stop it, but it evades your attempts.

You could only stare in shock as the wolf sniffs the ferret before gently grabbing it by the scruff. It seems to try to walk away, but as it does, its legs suddenly give out, collapsing to the floor and sending the ferret rolling with a whimper.

Out of worry for the poor animals, you were at the wolf's side at an instant, your fear leaving your body as soon as you saw its display of affection to the ferret.

The ferret was not dramatic this time, immediately getting back up and running to its friend once again, like it was worried.

You spot the leg it limps on, seeing its fur covered in dry blood. "Oh, dear... let me take care of that back home."

The wolf seems to understand you, reacting negatively to what you said. Then, the ferret runs to the bush again, while the wolf points its snout at the direction where its friend ran off to.

You get the message, oddly enough, checking where the ferret went. Separating the leaves with your arms, you see a group of animals huddled together in fear, around them were what you recognize as some missing items from your home.

They looked scared and exhausted, and you spot a yellow chick resting on your pillow, so frail and pitiable. Your heart aches for them, its as if they were family despite being different creatures.

Quickly, you grab your basket. "Oh, you poor things, I promise I'll take care of you if you come with me." You offer your hand to them, making them flinch, the cat jumps in front to protect the rest, but the ferret you saw before had jumped into your hand already, making a noise that seems to encourage its friends.

You put the ferret in the basket, and slowly, the rest follows, the bunny assisted the chick as they went into the basket, then the puppy, then the quokka, then the fox, and then the cat.

The basket became very heavy, and they looked squished in there, but it looks as if they're leaving space for the chick to lay comfortably. They all seem so smart.

You went back to the tired wolf, lifting it into your arms with a huff. "O-Okay... this isn't gonna be comfortable, but hold on tight."

No animal protests, and you trudge back to your cottage with your arms aching and back hunched from all the weight, but you managed.

...

The wolf was resting comfortably on the rug, its head on a pillow and its leg bandaged nice and clean.

The chick was resting on a pillow, sleeping soundly while the puppy and fox lay their snouts on the pillow it rests on.

The cat and the quokka looked after the wolf, much to your surprise and understanding of the food chain.

And then the ferret and bunny were by your side as you sip a cup of coffee.

"You guys are an odd group of friends." You giggle, the bunny joining you. It jumps to your lap, tapping your stomach and then rubbing its own.

"Hungry?" You asked, amazed by the level of understanding going on between you and the animals this whole night.

It nods enthusiastically, making you smile. "You're lucky I grow some of my food here. But I guess the carnivores won't enjoy anything from the garden."

You prepare food for them, taking all the differently designed wooden bowls from your cabinet to fill each one.

Its probably the first time you used these bowls and had to prepare more than one meal, and it's for a group of animals.

But somehow, you feel like they brought a light to the cottage you feel has been missing no matter how many candles you light.

"Eat up!" You place their bowls beside them, each one prepared to match their diets, up to what you know about their diets of course.

They devoured their meals, even the two injured animals were housing it down.

You look fondly at the group, cleaning up after them after they eat. "I forgot to introduce myself, huh? Not that you would ever call me, but my name is Y/N..."

The wolf let out a little bark, as if trying to say it.

"I appreciate the effort, big guy." You pet it, bringing your lips down to kiss its head.

You feel all their eyes on you, and you feel like you don't mind having these kind of companions filling up your cottage.

As you part away from the wolf, its eyes look at you with a sparkle, making your smile fondly. "You're all safe now..."

You stand up, stretching your arms, "Well that was a long day, we all better sleep now right?"

Before you could walk away, the bunny jumps to you, presenting its head by pulling down its ears. "What? You want a kiss too?"

It doesn't move, so you took it as a yes and pecked its head gently. The ferret and the quokka ran to you as well, but it seems the cat, puppy, and fox were too good for forehead kisses.

The chick couldn't move from its place, so you walk to it and gently kissed its head.

"Goodnight, stray critters..." You whisper, turning off the lamps before heading to bed.

...

"We should surprise her."

"Are you kidding? She's gonna kick us out."

"But we also kinda stole from her so we should make up for that."

"Yeah, okay, but don't just show her what we are!"

"I feel bad for lying..."

"We didn't lie, she carried us here and we didn't even have to say anything."

"Can't blame her, I would take us in if I saw us."

"Yeah, we looked like we're about to die."

"Just let Minho hyung make breakfast for her in the morning as a nice gesture."

"But can he do it in cat form though? I don't wanna see him cooking naked."

"She already thought she has a thief stealing from her, what's she gonna think if the 'thief' starts cooking her breakfast?"

"Do you think that forehead kiss is a daily thing?"

"It should be."

"It should be."

"I hope so."

"And to think Chan hyung was gonna eat her."

"I'm so glad she didn't die."

Who's glad you didn't die?

It was faint, but in your sleep you hear murmurs of people talking, so faint as if it was intentionally quiet so it doesn't reach your ears, you can't even make out if it was in a dream.

But you wake up once again to the sight of the sunbeams casting through your window.

And the animals were just as you left them.

Though it did seem a little cleaner than last night,

Oh well, it seems like your world population of one grew by 800%.

...

You found out that the animals were the thief so you no longer have to worry about things missing in your home. But you now have a completely different mystery.

Who keeps leaving food on your table every morning? And why does it taste so damn good?

Something is also definitely keeping the weeds out of your garden, and you swear you hear lullabies in your dreams that seem to come from reality.

It's like adopting eight different types of animals made you insane.

And why does it seem like sometimes, a fully grown man is walking inside of your home and not a cute little bunny or ferret or puppy or fox.

You were once again in your bed after a weird day of everything being handed to you, like all the things you needed for the day magically appeared by your side.

You shake your head, surely if good things are happening, its good karma for helping the animals. And with that, you head off to sleep.

But not too asleep yet before you hear your door being opened.

"She's asleep, guys."

"Do you think she likes Seungmin and me singing to her?"

"I'm just scared Seungmin will pull another prank and yell for her to wake up."

"Her bed looks comfy."

"I think you should sleep on it when she's away to help your back, Felix."

Someone is sleeping on your bed when you're gone?!

That's creepy!

Your hand slowly reaches for the knitting needles under your pillow, not exactly a weapon, but you bet you could gouge out someone's eyes with them.

You jump from your bed, pointing the needles at the intruders. "Get out of my house!"

You can only scream as you see eight men, covering themselves in your blankets, huddled up in your room.

"AHHH PERVERTS!" Your screamed so loud it surely echoes through the forest. "What are you doing here naked, perverts?!"

"No no, Y/N, it's us!" One of them tried to talk to you. "We're the animals. I'm the wolf..." He looks down and you follow his gaze to see his foot bandaged like how you bandaged the wolf this morning.

"It's true, Y/N, we're hybrids." The short but muscular guy followed. "I'm the bunny."

"What the hell?" You laughed, still in disbelief. "I must be dreaming..." You slap yourself hard, immediate feeling the stinging pain.

They flinch as you slap yourself. "Are you okay, noona?" The one with the deep voice asked you.

"Were you guys gonna kill me but then I woke up so now you're scrambling for a cover story?" You retorted, still looking with wild wide eyes.

"Ugh, just believe us, look." The man who said that turns into a cat before your very eyes.

So it was true, and you weren't dreaming, you saved a bunch of hybrids and they've been hanging out butt naked in your house at night when you sleep.

"We would've covered up, noona, but we don't have clothes." Says the one with the deep dimples when he smiled.

So you ended up spending your night finishing some garments for them to wear, their eyes looking fascinated at you as you work on your sewing machine.

You didn't sleep a wink, not that you could with all your new found information, and also because the dimpled fox boy was very particular about the clothes he wants.

...

"Wait, so that time I carried you all, you could have just walked?" You raised a brow.

"Some of us could, but we liked the ride." Seungmin replied, taking a mouthful of his sandwich after.

"What Seungmin should have said is that when hybrids become weak and vulnerable, we regress down to our animal forms because our body can't sustain being human." Chan corrected him. "We were really weak when you found us, so we couldn't do anything."

"Thank you for saving us, Y/Niee my hero." Jisung, whom you find to be endearingly clingy, squishes himself to your side, rubbing his cheek on your shoulder.

"What happened to you, anyway?" You asked again, but the question made the others look down, while Chan's eyes seem to darken. "Oh... I don't want to bring out some painful past, you don't have to answer."

"You deserve to know, Y/N, you saved us..." Chan reassures you, smiling at you gently. "We escaped from an organization that was making us perform for the circus and paid us peanuts."

"We escaped, and they chased us for so long that we started starving and getting thirsty." Minho continued.

"Chan hyung and Lixie even got hurt because we ran so long, until eventually we were all too weak to stay human." Changbin added.

"That's when we found your cottage and Minho hyung, Seungmin and I started stealing from you... Sorry..." Hyunjin says sheepishly.

"You guys..." You frown at their sad story. "I'm glad you made it to me, but you really gave me a scare last night.

"What were you even gonna do with those knitting needles, grandma?" Seungmin asks, making Chan stifle a laugh because usually its him receiving those 'ur old' jokes.

"I would have stuck them in a bad puppy's rear end, Minnie."

"But would you let us stay even if we're like this, noona?" Felix, ever with the deep voice, asks, his tone laced with worry at your decision.

"Felix... I would never want you to leave, you've endured so much, you deserve a place to call home." You reach over to wipe of a tear that has fallen to his freckled cheek. "My home is your home, all of you."

...

"I can't believe Felix gets to sleep on the bed, he could just transform into a chick and sleep on a pillow." Hyunjin argued, pouting at you.

You giggle. "You could do that too, Hyunjin, and you're not the one with the injury."

"But he's been sleeping next to you for a week." Jeongin adds, before his cheeks turn red. "I mean... sleeping on the bed."

You smile knowingly, deciding not to tease the hotheaded maknae. "When he gets better, I promise we'll make a schedule for the bed."

Felix just smiles from the bed, already tucked in and comfy. "Wipe that grin off, man, you're gonna have another pain to worry about." Seungmin playfully says, making Felix stick his tongue out to tease him in return.

"Alright, back to the couch, kids." Chan says, earning immediate protest.

"Nu uh, we're here for out forehead kisses, then we go." Jisung says like he's fighting for his rights.

"We're still doing that? You guys aren't exactly animals tonight." You pointed out, because you only usually kiss them when they're in their animal forms.

"It's still us, Y/Niee, no matter what form." Changbin reasons.

"Alright..." You smiled, stepping closer to kiss each one of them on the forehead. This time, rather than you leaning down to kiss furry little heads, you cup their cheeks and bring down their faces until your lips meet their foreheads.

It's a lot different, but it seems so nice for them, even the guys with affection aversion lets you press a kiss on them. You did tell Minho, Seungmin, and Jeongin that they should let you kiss them on the head too so nobody's left out, but you didn't think they would comply in their human forms.

Rather than the room be filled with the sleepy and quiet air that draws near when you give out your kisses, your room suddenly feels so romantic and slow.

They file out of the room, satisfied with their kisses, and Felix already closed his eyes when he got his kiss.

That leaves Chan, who walks, still with a slight limp, closer to you.

"You have no idea how thankful I am for you, Y/N. For saving my boys, for saving me..." He whispers for the air to carry his message to your ears, sending shivers down your spine. "You say your home is our home, but I think our home is you."

You look up at him fondly, his eyes were glistening as if tears coated them so they shine extra bright when the light hits them. "We love you... I love you."

"I think I want that kiss now." He says, making you reach to cup his cheeks, but instead of letting you go all the way to his forehead, he rests his lips comfortably on yours.

You return it gently, letting him take your arms to wrap around his neck while he holds you waist.

"OII, CHAN HYUNG IS GETTING A BETTER KISS THAN US!" Changbin bursts through the door with a complain, followed by the rest.

You part from Chan, a commotion filling up your room once again.

"This woman's favoritism never ends." Jeongin shakes his head.

"I bet Chan hyung planned to be last so he can make his move." Jisung accuses him.

"No fair! I wanna kiss like that too." Hyunjin whines like a drama queen, pouting at you.

They all surround you with their complains.

"Chan hyung said no one was allowed to make a move on you, but he goes breaking his own rules."

"Yeah... when the whole group's got a crush on one person, no one makes a move so we're all even."

You look back confused at Chan, who was already smiling sheepishly. "I did say 'we love you'."

"That means we all now have kisses on the lips privileges." That's something they all agreed on.

"What about what I have to say?" You questioned them.

"Shut up, you love us." Minho counters.

They do seem to know you well. And so you give out kisses that whole night, even to the two maknaes who pretended like they didn't like it but their lips lingered a bit too long later on and then tried to go back for seconds.

It's a shame Felix never woke up from the ruckus after falling asleep, only getting to know what he missed out on when he woke up the next morning, leading him to have to wait for you to come back home that day to demand his kiss.

The world that is your cottage has just gained eight new inhabitants, whom all have started to come out of their shells and share their passion of making music and dancing, singing, painting, playing, and many more without the fear of a whip hitting them at every point they make mistakes.

You gave them a home, and they will forever STAY.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

A/N: Hii, fellow STAYs, happy birthday to us! I really loved this concept and I hope you guys do as well. I kinda want to make it a series, like random moments in the cottage, cute moments with each member since its kinds hard to write a scene when they're all present and talking. Also could do NSFW stuffs with this concept if you guys are up for it hehe. Anywayyy please leave a comment sharing your thoughts, I would love to see them!

Taglist: @bleuuujpg @seungpuppymongmong @princesskrystix @aquariusscollection @chims-dimple @norabugz @diekleinesuesse @like-diamondsinthesky @isadd666 @btch8008s @geni-627 @purplelady85 @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts @chanchansgirly @emilyywhyy @veronica123 @rockstarkkami @my-neurodivergent-world @cr1nge-cal @xianle1117 @velvetmoonlght

[justauthoring]

Prompt: Brother Bang Chan, Brother's Best Friend Lee Know

Idea inspired by @pineapple-burgah Their brother's best friend smau series is amazing, I'm in love with it and decided to do my own take on it!

This is also related to my SKZ Big Brother headcanons I did a while back. You don't have to read them, but you can if you'd like :)

A/N: Hehe, new smau series??? I can't help myself, these are so fun to write! Also, some of the images are a bit blurry, sorry!

SS Count: 28

Photo Texts: Bang Chan - Lee Know - Changbin - Hyunjin - Han - Felix - Seungmin - I.N

Stray Kids Tag List: @honeyyyy21 - @skzfangirl143 - @smiileflower - @diekleinesuesse - @pwzoo33 - @estella-novella - @corgilover20 - @btch2009 - @superboywife - @skzlover143 - @crypticcompassion - @hunter-or-the-hunted - @foureyes13 - @livinglife1415 - @foppishitudinality - @wanna-plan-world-domination - @jeonjenny - @zealouscookierebeltrash - @hafdis-hem - @jongseobclypse - @heartsfromunknown - @succult - @chk-chk-b00m - @stayar1 - @lezleeferguson-120 - @exiow-123 - @chill-out-imnotobsessed - @staarflowerr - @changbinqueencard - @bookishcaptain - @bussdownflockiana - @sseungminsbaee - @geni-627 - @sapphirewaves - @kpoplover35 - @ima-jellybeanz - @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 - @uniquedreamerstranger - @straykidsxoxo - @alondra6011 - @1-aria-1 - @girlblogger-04 - @halluci-nati0n - @danielle143 - @journalofmoonlight - @jessga - @h-dw - @stayville-citizen - @sxunnyfelix STRAY KIDS TAG LIST CLOSED!

[everglowdaisies]

OMG this was so cute

[justauthoring]

Prompt: Brother Seungmin, Brother's Best Friend I.N

This is also related to my SKZ Big Brother headcanons I did a while back. You don't have to read them, but you can if you'd like :)

SS Count: 28

Photo Texts: Bang Chan - Lee Know - Changbin - Hyunjin - Han - Felix - Seungmin - I.N

Stray Kids Tag List: @honeyyyy21 - @skzfangirl143 - @smiileflower - @diekleinesuesse - @pwzoo33 - @estella-novella - @corgilover20 - @btch2009 - @superboywife - @skzlover143 - @crypticcompassion - @hunter-or-the-hunted - @foureyes13 - @livinglife1415 - @foppishitudinality - @wanna-plan-world-domination - @jeonjenny - @zealouscookierebeltrash - @hafdis-hem - @jongseobclypse - @heartsfromunknown - @succult - @chk-chk-b00m - @stayar1 - @lezleeferguson-120 - @exiow-123 - @chill-out-imnotobsessed - @staarflowerr - @changbinqueencard - @bookishcaptain - @bussdownflockiana - @sseungminsbaee - @geni-627 - @sapphirewaves - @kpoplover35 - @ima-jellybeanz - @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 - @uniquedreamerstranger - @straykidsxoxo - @alondra6011 - @1-aria-1 - @girlblogger-04 - @halluci-nati0n - @danielle143 - @journalofmoonlight - @jessga - @h-dw - @stayville-citizen - @sxunnyfelix STRAY KIDS TAG LIST CLOSED!

[everglowdaisies]

AHH stop that was so cute

[justauthoring]

Prompt: Brother Changbin, Brother's Best Friend Hyunjin

This is also related to my SKZ Big Brother headcanons I did a while back. You don't have to read them, but you can if you'd like :)

A/N: Reader has some insecurity worries, so if this topic is difficult for you, read with caution!

SS Count: 28

Photo Texts: Bang Chan - Lee Know - Changbin - Hyunjin - Han - Felix - Seungmin - I.N

Stray Kids Tag List: @honeyyyy21 - @skzfangirl143 - @smiileflower - @diekleinesuesse - @pwzoo33 - @estella-novella - @corgilover20 - @btch2009 - @superboywife - @skzlover143 - @crypticcompassion - @hunter-or-the-hunted - @foureyes13 - @livinglife1415 - @foppishitudinality - @wanna-plan-world-domination - @jeonjenny - @zealouscookierebeltrash - @hafdis-hem - @jongseobclypse - @heartsfromunknown - @succult - @chk-chk-b00m - @stayar1 - @lezleeferguson-120 - @exiow-123 - @chill-out-imnotobsessed - @staarflowerr - @changbinqueencard - @bookishcaptain - @bussdownflockiana - @sseungminsbaee - @geni-627 - @sapphirewaves - @kpoplover35 - @ima-jellybeanz - @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 - @uniquedreamerstranger - @straykidsxoxo - @alondra6011 - @1-aria-1 - @girlblogger-04 - @halluci-nati0n - @danielle143 - @journalofmoonlight - @jessga - @h-dw - @stayville-citizen - @sxunnyfelix STRAY KIDS TAG LIST CLOSED!

[everglowdaisies]

stop why was this so sweet

[makeitworse]

𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

i’m drawn to you // the more i hurt, the more i want you

this rut might burn jeongin from the inside out if he can’t spend it with you. if only he had the guts to just ask.

✤ pairing: alpha!jeongin x beta!f!reader ✤ words: 8k ✤ warnings: omegaverse, polyamorous ot8 (light mxm), jealous innie, smut with hand/blowjob, unprotected sex, he gets a lil rough, biting, 18+ MDNI

✤ notes: this is jeongin’s part of the wolfgang verse! happy bday to this silly fox hehe. i had to speedrun writing the smut so idk how well it turned out lmqjwh. stay tuned for the rest of the parts as they release :O

“GOOOOOD MORNING!” han sings from down the hallway, chipper voice bouncing off the walls as he skips out from minho’s room. 

jeongin purses his lips over his iced americano. at least someone slept well – jeongin woke up at the ass crack of dawn to minho’s bedframe ramming against the wall. funnily enough, when he decided to start his day by going to the gym, he ran into chan about to go to bed: red-rimmed eyes from hours of staring at his laptop, noise-cancelling headphones sitting around his neck that he handed to jeongin with a knowing smile. 

han bounces on the balls of his feet as he enters the kitchen, his sickeningly sweet scent cloaking the room: pink pepper and cinnamon, made even spicier with the traces of minho still sticking to him. it burns jeongin’s nose when he breathes it in. 

despite his sour mood, jeongin can feel his alpha stirring over han’s post-heat glow – his full cheeks split with a smile like he didn’t keep the whole house up last night with his hooting n’ hollering. it’s a stark contrast to earlier this week: heat had hit him hard and fast, he looked as if he was on the brink of death.

you and felix did what you could to console him while minho was away at work, keeping han comfortable and cool as he sweated buckets in the plush sheets of the alpha’s bed. the others had stood by the door in worry – even after han had shooed them away in embarrassment of his state – though they could only grind their teeth and swallow down their instinct to help the omega. no one but minho is allowed to touch han while he’s in heat, after all. 

the alpha sure made it up to him, if last night’s cacophony and the love bites littered across his skin were anything to go by – as well as the fact that either had barely emerged from the room since. until now, of course. hopefully this means jeongin can finally get a good night’s rest. 

“feeling better?” seungmin smirks, peering up from his phone. han nods as he lugs the fridge open. “sure sounded like you got it all out of your system.”

jeongin clicks his teeth, pissed off just thinking about it. seungmin narrows his eyes at the young alpha, but han merely shrugs as he inspects an apple, untouchable in his thoroughly-dicked-down haze. “just say you’re jealous.” 

“i am.” seungmin says easily. “just listening to you two has me considering going off my blockers.”

“that bad, eh? well, you know minho’s always got room for you in his bed, seungie.” han coos. he presses a kiss to the younger omega’s hair, pulling a chair out for himself at the table and chowing down on the apple. 

seungmin barks a laugh. “please, only you can take him and live. he’d probably rip me a new one.”

jeongin feels like he could rip something, anything to shreds right now. his alpha bristles under his skin as he sits between the two omegas, provoked for.. honestly, no good reason. maybe it’s the lack of sleep getting to him – this americano has done nothing to relieve the tired weight from his eyelids, or even cool the heat that’s been sizzling restlessly under his skin since he woke up. 

“g’morning,” the grumble of your voice grounds jeongin immediately. the three men perk up like dogs as you trudge into the kitchen, rubbing sleep from your eyes. 

han calls out your name around his cheeks full of the fruit. “you’re up!”

“i thought you went out?” seungmin adds, smiling at how you’re blinking slowly, all cute. “i was looking for you but you weren’t in your room.” 

jeongin cuts him a sharp glance, as if he didn’t also seek you out when he got back from the gym (and after finding that you weren’t there, he may have laid in your bed for a minute or two just ‘cause he was craving your scent or whatever..)

before you can even process where you want to sit, if you were even intending to sit yet, jeongin pulls out the chair right next to him; beckoning you over with a tilt of his head. he catches the other two trading amused glances, but he knows they won’t question it. alpha dominance n’ all that. 

“thanks, innie.” you murmur fondly as he pushes your chair back in, feeling pride and something a bit hotter blooming in his chest. you glance back at seungmin. “did you need me for something earlier?”

“just felt like bothering you.” he shrugs. “so, where’d you go?”

“ah, nowhere. i slept in lixie’s room.”

“what?” seungmin plucks the words right out of jeongin’s head, though spoken at a lower decibel than what he was thinking. “where the hell was my invite?”

you roll your eyes playfully. “it wasn’t like that. he was feeling under the weather last night and wanted to cuddle.” 

aaand jeongin’s heard enough. he feels sick too, but with the disease called jealousy. physically even – the americano starting to swirl wrong in his gut, nausea clawing up the back of his throat. he shifts in his chair, thighs starting to stick to the leather from sweat. 

“innie?” he finds your eyes on him, brows furrowed with your lip pouting a little in concern. “you okay?”

he’d like it if his mouth could open to answer, but his jaw’s sore from how hard he’s been subconsciously clenching his teeth. the words burned out on their way up his throat anyways, because he’s not. he’s anything but. 

he nods profusely when the other two glance at him. he doesn’t want to look weak or anything. it’s just… god, when did the room get so hot? why are the lights so bright? and your scent, your fucking scent, it’s assaulting every crevice of his brain and airing out every thought in there. 

his brain shortcircuits when you reach out and press your palm to his forehead, which he didn’t even realise was so sweaty until your eyes widen from the wetness on your skin. “shit, innie, you’re burning up.”

han studies the young alpha. not in suspicion, but understanding. something settles in his face before he comments: “do you think it could be–?”

he’s interrupted when a certain bedroom door swings open and floods the room with a heady, unmistakable aroma. everyone goes a little stiff from the recognition – owner of said aroma padding into the kitchen, looking radiant as ever even with his mussed blonde bedhair. 

felix says your name in a low, sleepy drawl. “you left me..”

“greedy.” seungmin scoffs. “you had her all night and morning.”

han wraps an arm around felix’s waist when he approaches, rubbing his back and eyeing him keenly. “are you sure you should be out of bed?” 

the blonde omega smelled ripe – intense and sunny, like freshly boiled bergamot tea. when the house starts smelling too strongly of citrus, it’s like an omen of the incoming chaos. jeongin can already feel how his body reacts to the blonde omega’s scent, curling around his alpha like smoke and making his hairs stand on end. 

of course, with one sunshine twin in heat, it was only a matter of time before the other got set off. consecutively, no less. and now the rest are going to fall into their heats and ruts like dominos. 

because with felix, as they love and adore him, his heat alone is enough to set the whole house into a heated frenzy of pheromones. 

it clicks in seungmin’s head as he stares at the two sunshine twins, nuzzling into each other’s warmth and rubbing their wrists together – zest and spice curling around the dining table. “ahh, you’re about to be in heat, yongbok?” 

“it’d be about time,” you add on. “you should lay back down. i’ll wake minho up to cook us some brekky.” 

an annoyed huff leaves jeongin’s nose. you’re too focused on felix’s state to acknowledge it, though seungmin does as his gaze drifts to jeongin. his lip twitches into a smile as he stares at the agitated young alpha, like he knows something jeongin doesn’t– 

oh, no. oh. no no no. 

it all clicks in jeongin’s head with terrifying clarity. why didn’t he realise this sooner? well, he does know why actually. it’s because this is the first time in years he’s felt this way. 

his body is plunging into the first stages of a rut: the mood swings, the insomnia, the way every sound is crushing and every light is blinding. he tries to will himself not to panic as a bead of sweat trickles down his neck. how long has it been now – since his freshman year of college? 

after he first showed as an alpha, he endured only a handful of ruts before going on blockers and swearing by them since. ruminating on that period of his life only brings a wave of shame. he couldn’t tolerate his own biology hindering his performance in school, or worse, others’ treatment of him. 

it helped having an entire pack that understood and supported him, of course. in fact it’s the entire reason he warmed up to the decision of letting his body function naturally. however, going through every stage of grief while sitting at the dining table has made all of his thoughts from when he initially went on blockers slam back into him at full nelson. 

in the same vein of wondering why he even decided to quit them, he remembers the exact justification when he looks to you through half-lidded eyes. 

you’re just too fucking beautiful, simply existing. looking like you’re straight from a vogue cover with your bedhair sitting so perfectly messy, your pyjamas hugging your body so… damn. he might be half-hard. 

he forces his eyes back to your face: your brows drawn, chewing on your lower lip as you keep an eye on felix. ah, you’re always so concerned and caring towards all of them. so sweet. 

as a beta, you’ll never have to live a day where pure, raw need completely takes over your body. that’s not to say you don’t have your own struggles, like in society for instance. despite it all, you’re so in tune and adept at dealing with everyone’s cycles as if you’re drawing from your own experience. they all cherish and adore you for it – jeongin especially. even in a relationship with eight others, you’ve always managed to fluster him like a boy with a crush. 

he often wonders how they managed to bag someone as special as you, back when the pack was just a young throuple of chan, changbin and han. perhaps it was the charm of their leader – jeongin can relate. he caught chan’s eye and the rest is history. 

your scent spikes with concern as you watch han help felix stand upright, the lurking heat turning his limbs to jelly. jeongin breathes in to let your smell calm him, though it instantly has the opposite effect; striking him with a euphoric rush like poppers. 

as you stand from the chair and walk to the dazed blonde, jeongin’s thoughts are consumed with visions of you doing anything but leave his side. he wants to wrap his body around yours and keep you to himself, to splay you on this table and taste your scent gland on his tongue. 

the daydream’s shattered when you give felix a soft peck, scenting him gently with your wrist before han sees him back to bed. 

seungmin puckers his lips at you expectantly, and you shake your head in amusement before giving him a kiss too – one that turns almost heated on seungmin’s part before you pull away.

all that’s left is jeongin, who’s staring you down so intensely your eyes actually widen a little in surprise when you notice. 

he can see the cogs turning in your head: it’s a well known and accepted fact that jeongin’s not the biggest fan of physical intimacy, and he’d rather die than ask for it. but, the way he’s looking at you right now.. well, it looks like someone else might die if he doesn’t get a kiss too. 

your hand slides to cup his jaw. jeongin licks his lips and you lean in – kissing him exactly like you know he’d want it. slow, but with force. what becomes a kiss that lasts too long for you, is a kiss that lasts barely a millisecond for jeongin. 

“okay,” you sigh as you part with him, having to wipe your mouth from how much his tongue ran over your lips. “i’m gonna go wake minho up. i’m starving.”

“me too.” jeongin mutters. both of you know he’s not referring to any food. 

with a brush of your thumb against his chin, a lingering glance at his glossy lips, you’re gone – setting off down the hallway and waltzing into another alpha’s room when you should only want to be in his.

jeongin’s not the possessive type, not like minho at least. jealous though? well, it’s hard to get jealous when your pack is all dating one another, but he’s also been on rut blockers since before he met any of you. his alpha hasn’t shown itself full force like this since he discovered he was one. 

for years now he’s been the one to merely witness it in his partners, never been the one to feel it: the burning under your skin, the churning in your gut, the need burrowed so deeply beneath your bones… and it’s weaving one name over and over into his veins. 

it’s you. it’s all you. his alpha grows restless and claws beneath his flesh – all jeongin can smell, see, think is you, you, you. 

there’s one issue though. 

as the pack’s dear princess and sole beta, you’re quite popular particularly during these bouts of felix making his heat everyone else’s problem. jeongin isn’t really intimate as it stands – pretty selective and reserved when he has an itch to scratch, but it’s not something he does often, and his partners respect that. it’d almost be unlike him to want someone this bad, but his alpha nature is just a part of himself that’s finally off the leash after years and years of suppressing it. 

for fuck’s sake. he wants you and so does everyone else and that’s a fucking problem. because really, he needs you. he’s got years worth of energy backed up and it’s all going to hit him with this imminent rut. it’ll probably be painful. you’re good at dealing with this kind of thing, it’s why everyone asks for you when they’re going through it. 

giggles and groans erupt from down the hall, a mixture of familiar scents wafting into the room. jeongin looks up to see you’ve got not just a moody minho in tow, but also a changbin and a hyunjin who’re shirtless and hanging off of each other. chan will probably rise later with the moon, no doubt. 

jeongin can’t help but sigh, shifting in his seat once again. seungmin just smirks across from him. 

“i’ve got dibs first.” the omega winks, shameless in how his eyes drag over the skin spilling out from your pyjamas. 

the young alpha snarls, but whatever he was going to respond with is lost when changbin ruffles his hair from behind – then saying something along the lines of why in the world he’s so sweaty. 

— 

if you asked jeongin to give a summary of everything that’s happened in this movie so far, he genuinely wouldn’t even be able to name the title for you. he’s not fucking watch this. not since seungmin stole the spot jeongin was gonna take by your side on the couch, definitely not when the omega threw a blanket over your bodies to shield whatever he was planning to do next, and positutely fucking not since jeongin has been eyeing each and every movement beneath said blanket. 

seungmin’s been shameless ever since felix went into heat and the rest followed suite. he’s been unaffected because of his trusty old blockers, but seeing you get down and around with the rest of the pack has made him want a sliver of that attention too. which brings us to now: jeongin, chan, you, and seungmin all sitting on the couch pretending to watch a movie. the rest are either fucking felix through his heat or fucking because of felix’s heat. seungmin actually decided to skip taking his pills yesterday, so his signature jasmine and vanilla is the strongest jeongin’s smelled in months. 

it doesn’t help that the omega’s curled into your body on your shared end of the couch (on the opposite end of jeongin’s, mind you) – arms snug around your shoulders, rubbing his scent gland all up on your neck. the smell’s so sweet jeongin swears he can feel his teeth aching. 

his cock is for sure aching with how horny he’s been. even just your secondhand scent, like your clothes as he does the laundry or when he walks past your room, has been getting him stiff in his pants. your actual presence has been scarce though because, as to be expected, you’ve been a bit busy helping everyone else through their cycles. you’re holed up in a different room each day, making another man cum each day. 

he’s not the possessive type. he’s not. these are his partners just as much as they’re yours. you may have been here longer, and he may be the youngest, but the love in this pack is shared and mutual. there are favourites, naturally – there’s been periods where pairs or even trios have wanted to keep things more ‘exclusive’ for a bit. hell, minho has gatekept han’s heat to himself for as long as jeongin can remember. 

right now, you’re the sole object of his desire. his alpha’s rut has a massive fucking arrow pointing at your beta. he fears there’s not enough of you to go around, because it has been days and jeongin has barely gotten a word in with you. each morning he wakes up in a pool of his sweat, every limb aching and every nerve on fire. anyone he does trade words with has been getting nothing but clipped replies and nasty glares. he swears on everything that he’s fine, but it’s as clear as day that he’s finally going through it like the rest of them. in fact, jeongin’s own honey scent has been as potent as felix’s ripe citrus while in heat. chan described him smelling like an angry beehive. 

he knows he’s more than welcome to call on someone else to help him through it. hell, he usually enjoys intimacy with seungmin the most, but he’s pissing him the fuck off right now and all his alpha wants is you and exclusively you. 

and you know what’s crazy? it’d be so easy to just ask. to say a simple: “hey, scoot over and let me join.” to be honest with his partners in life that he’s in physical pain from how horny he is, and they’d give him relief in a heartbeat. but he doesn’t say anything or do anything. 

he doesn’t want to burden you. time and again you’ve helped others and he hadn’t felt anything quite like this – even though he’s always held a certain fancy for you. jeongin knows his ruts can be.. a lot. too much actually. shit, he started popping suppression pills because he needed to stop the 24/7 cravings to fuck anything if he had any hope of graduating collge. 

those first few ruts have defined his perception of his own nature. he can’t risk overwhelming any of his partners, not when you’re all so tight-knit. especially not you, who’s special, who he’s barely shared any intimacy with as is. he can forget about pulling some guts out of his ass and ask you to share an actual rut with him – even if you’re the only person his body craves, and perhaps the only saving grace from this torture. 

it’s had him seriously consider going back on blockers – to run back to what he’s used to, even if it works against the nature he’s trying to embrace and finally take pride in. taking them when the rut’s already started would only bring a fresh slew of pain, though he’d doubt it’d even bother him over everything else raging in his mind and body. 

“i’m going to bed,” chan says suddenly, slapping his knees as he gets up from the couch. “the smell of you both has made me insanely hard. goodnight, i love you all.”

chan excuses himself to his room, foregoing giving you all his usual goodnight kisses because he’d probably pounce instead. you giggle from under seungmin’s body sandwiching you into the couch. jeongin breathes in, your scent filling his lungs – except there’s traces of seungmin’s sticky vanilla curled there too, from just how much he’s scented you. 

that actually gets on jeongin’s last nerve. 

the young alpha stands abruptly, ignoring your confused glances as he storms off without a word and slams his bedroom door behind him. 

he slumps against the door, pressing his palms into his eyes until colours burst behind his lids. he opens them again, blinks until reality blots back into focus. he glances down and sees the massive pitch in his sweats. then he laughs, crushing his forehead between his fingers. 

he’s so hard he could cry. god, does he want you. to the point it hurts. 

hewantsyouhewantsyouhewantsyouhewantsyouhe–

he palms the front of his sweats, hissing at the barest relief it brings, your face in his mind. 

hewantsyouhewantsyouhewantsyouhewantsyouhe–

the shuffling of fabric punctuates his heavy breathing as he wraps a tight fist around himself and fucks into it. not even moving his hand – keeping it stationary as he imagines it’s your warm, wet hole instead. 

heneedsyouheneedsyouheneedsyouheNEEDSYOUHE–

with a fateful jerk of his hips he spills onto the floor, muffling a sob behind his palm. 

jeongin slumps back against the door. well, that did nothing to relieve it. just like the multiple other times he already jerked off today, yesterday, the day before that and so on. he’s still hard, still horny, still not satisfied. 

he sighs, nearly slips on the cum as he grabs some tissues to wipe it up, then flops onto his bed. 

his cock twitches as it rubs against his plush mattress, but he doesn’t even bother attempting to reach another orgasm. it’d do nothing to satiate the bottomless pit of lust inside him. 

he stuffs his face into the pillow and essentially suffocates himself until black swallows him into sleep. 

—

jeongin woke up and instantly wished he hadn’t. just a second ago, you were there: on top of him, dragging your teeth across his scent gland and making him see stars. just a second ago, he felt some semblance of relief as he came in the circle of your fist. 

then, his eyes snapped open to the dark of his bedroom – and to the absence of you. in place of your hand was nothing but a pathetic, wet pool staining the fabric of his boxers. 

jeongin kicked his sheets off like they were personally responsible for his wet dream (he did add a spritz of your perfume to his sheets so, honestly maybe they were). he haphazardly checked his phone – the digits ‘3:41’ mocking him as they stared back – before launching it into his mattress and storming off to the shower. 

jeongin felt like a walking corpse. a zombie that craved pussy instead of brains. a body set to flames. 

it felt like millions of needles trying to burst from under his skin, like his organs were coated in molten lava. the ice cold water stream on full blast did nothing to cool the restless fire burning him from the inside out. 

the walls around him spun endlessly, his stomach churning in sync with it. when his throat started to sear with bile, jeongin began to pray. 

it was answered, if just for a moment – the nausea subsiding just long enough for him to trudge out of the bathroom, pull on some fresh boxers and collapse into his bed. 

the rut’s hitting him with everything he’s worth. the wet dream had been the warning, and after he dragged himself to the shower and back, he hasn’t left bed. he can’t. 

everything is pissing him off. the way his blanket scratches his skin, the way he’s shivering in a puddle of his own sweat. the way his head throbs with a migraine. the way his cock stands upright, indifferent to his suffering, demanding release. 

it’s too fucking hot in here. he needs you so bad he could literally throw up. his phone’s buzzed a few times, laying at his feet from where he threw it, but he can’t find the strength to even lift a finger to go check it. all of the blood in his system is rushing south to his greedy cock, leaving him light-headed and limp. he doesn’t even have enough water left in his body to cry. has anyone ever died from a rut? fuck, if not he’ll be the first. only divine intervention could save him now. 

“innie?”

it sounds so distant, so faraway that jeongin concludes it’s a hallucination. he must be dead already. 

“innie, hey,”

ah, so his last moments are spent imagining your voice calling to him. he wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“yang jeongin!” 

he has a full-body jolt like he’s been struck with electricity. he blinks thrice to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him – that you’re actually standing at his bedside, that you’re real and that he’s still very much alive. 

“hey,” you say, relieved. “what’s going on?” 

he replies in his head, but his mouth doesn’t get the memo – nothing but a strained noise leaving his throat. 

you frown, looking at him with such pity he wished the ground would open up and swallow him. you place a plastic bottle of water on his bedside table before sitting gently on the edge of the bed, like you’re afraid of taking up too much space. your hand reaches out to brush a sweat-soaked strand of hair from his forehead, tender touch lingering at his cheekbone as your solemn eyes leave his face. 

you watch the rise and fall of his chest under the blanket before pulling it back from his bare chest: flushed red and covered in a thick layer of sweat. 

the state he’s in shocks you stiff for a moment. you throw the rest of the cover off of him, air hitting his legs. your thumb circles his cheek as you take in the rest of his body, eyes catching on the visible bulge in his boxers. 

“figured you must’ve been going through it..” you lament. “innie, why didn’t you say anything?” 

his mouth’s too dry to form any words, so he just shakes his head. you sigh and reach for the water bottle, slipping your hand to his back and gently guiding him upright. 

“here.” you tap the bottle to his lips, and he tilts his head back obediently. the water pours down his throat and he groans from the instant relief it brings. he even leans into it, downing the entire bottle in record time. 

droplets trickle down his chin as he watches you cap the empty bottle. you clear your throat, looking like you’re a little thirsty yourself after that. 

jeongin coughs to test his voice, before muttering a “thank you.” 

“it’s nothing.” you murmur, breathless. “can i do anything else to help?” 

that gives him pause. he’s had the past few days to say something and hasn’t, but the need is flashing hot in his system and overrides any other thought in his skull. his cock pulses in his boxers just at the thought of you ‘helping’, and of course, you catch it in your peripheral. your throat bobs as you take in the sheer size of him straining – what must be painfully – against the fabric. 

“i don’t want to just leave you while you’re like this,” you say, exasperated. “if you want someone else to take care of you, i could go get–”

“–no!” he cuts in, sitting upright. your brows shoot up in surprise. “i don’t want anyone else.” his voice delivers frustrated, like it’s unfathomable he wouldn’t want you. 

jeongin shuffles closer, his hands twitching in his lap as he just barely restrains the urge to reach for you. his grip would probably leave bruises. 

his breath hitches, the words to just ask lodging in his throat on the way up. you wait, patient, and he knows you won’t move without explicit permission. you’re considerate like that. 

jeongin swallows down a boulder.

“please.” 

it’s so quiet, he’s not even sure he got it out until your face changes – confusion sliding into understanding. 

you cup his face reverently. “tell me what you want, and i’ll do it.” 

he nearly gasps in relief as he says, “please, kiss me.” 

in the next blink your lips are on his, gentle with the state he’s in. on the contrary, jeongin kisses you so hard your teeth knock and your head cranes back. days worth of needing and suppressing is drawn taut inside him. he licks into your mouth, moaning just over the taste of you on his tongue. you’ve kissed before – gotten a little physical, but never the whole way. and certainly never this passionate. 

everyone has differing libidos and boundaries with intimacy. you understand that, you’ve always been careful with jeongin because of that. 

but that was him on suppression pills – quite literally blocking a part of himself out. he is selective with who he lets touch him, so the fact that he only wants to share this rut with you? well, if that doesn’t speak magnitudes about how much you’re his favourite, he doesn’t know what will. 

your fingers thread through his hair as you kiss him, meeting him halfway as you attempt to match his energy. jeongin still doesn’t trust himself to reach for you and not accidentally hurt you, so he settles for gripping his own thighs – the throbbing between them growing more incessant with each swipe of your tongue against his.

jeongin kisses you like he’s on the brink of starvation. like your mouth is the air he breathes. his spit mixes with yours, and with the low groan he lets out when your teeth scrape his bottom lip. 

he doesn’t even know the words to ask anymore, and if he did he wouldn’t be able to get them out. all he needed was you here, your warmth on his tongue. and that’s enough for his cock to twitch violently when his hand creeps over the front of his boxers. 

you pull back slightly at the stream of breathy noises from him, blinking at how he’s palming himself almost roughly. he doesn’t give you a chance to question him before he’s diving back in, swallowing your sentence into his mouth. 

jeongin’s still burning, the rut still prickling beneath his flesh and churning in his guts. but it all feels good. euphoria pumps through his blood, leaves his head foggy and his cock pulsing your name. he shoves his hand down the front of his pants, closing his fingers around his cock and jerking off as best he can manage in the cramped space, just to the feel of your lips on his. 

honestly, he imagined he’d have to tank the rut pains and just suffer through it as opposed to asking you for help – so your presence at minimum is enough to have him close to orgasm. 

as his groans turn quicker and higher, you part with him agan; eyes on his panting face as he jerks off to your pretty one. he can see the words on the tip of your tongue – you want to offer to help, but god you don’t want to interrupt either. you’re in awe of him. you’ve never seen jeongin this desperate. no one has, actually. 

your fingers creep down from the scruff of his hair and glide down his neck, then dip into his scent gland. jeongin moans, his vision whiting out from the sensitivity, from your soft fingers pressing on the tender spot. as if on command, he cums into his fist – your name on his tongue. 

with an exhale over ruining yet another perfect pair of boxers, jeongin opens his eyes, half-expecting it all to have been one crazy fever dream. you’re still here, though; looking at him like you could eat him up. 

“more.” is all he says. 

it’s as if he didn’t just cum with how his cock still stands upright and tents his soiled boxers, with how he’s hardly even out of breath. if anything it’s like he’s less tired now that he’s got one orgasm out of his system.

“tell me.” you reply, voice a little strained. you don’t go through cycles like the rest of them, but their pheromones can affect you all the same, and jeongin’s sickly sweet honey scent is driving you up the wall.

the fact he hasn’t reached for you yet isn’t lost on you – much like the fact that he didn’t tell a soul that he was going through a rut. you take the initiative by grabbing his wrists and planting his hands on your breasts. it’s like a neuron activates with how his hands immediately close in and knead the flesh between his fingers. jeongin swears he can feel his mouth watering. 

“anything, please, just you is enough.” he near-pleads. he’s an alpha, his instinct is to command and to be obeyed, and yet he is melting in your hands. the ‘natural hierarchy’ is nonexistent where the pack is concerned anyways. 

you smile, kissing the drool from the corner of his mouth as you reach for his waistband and tug. he lifts his ass a little to help you pull down his boxers enough for his cock to spring free, slapping against his stomach and leaving a string of pre. 

“lay back,” you urge him, and he obeys without thinking (hands still on your boobs). 

you kiss him, restraint now an afterthought as you put your all into it. he proved how much he wanted you by just jerking off while looking at you – and you’d be crazy to not give him the relief he’s so desperately seeking. 

you leave a one last kiss on his lips before travelling south, switching between nipping and licking at his skin as your mouth trails along his jaw. you nose his scent gland, licking a stripe up his pulse and delighting at how he has a full-body jolt over it. 

you ravage the expanse of his torso with your tongue and teeth, pulling heavenly noises from him, before at last being at level with his weeping cock. it’s flushed as red as jeongin was when you first walked in on him half-conscious and burning up beneath the blanket. 

you lick your lips. “you tell me if it’s too much or if you want to stop, okay?” 

“i won’t.” he says, reaching for your hair to hold and keep out of your face. “you tell me.”

you lip twitches into a smirk, one that accepts the unspoken challenge there. “alright.” 

you dart your tongue the whole way out, catching jeongin off guard by starting off with kitten licks on his tip. he giggles, shivering at the barest contact. 

you apply pressure with your tongue, sliding down to the base and back up, licking deliberately hard on his frenulum. jeongin’s leaking way too much cum to be considered pre. he has so much to give, and each swipe of your tongue on his cock has even more pre spilling from the tip. 

he’s not shy about how good it feels either: steady groans falling from his mouth, punctuated by soft whimpers that he doesn’t even realise. 

growing impatient yourself, you catch jeongin off guard when you just grab the base of his dick. he winces, his veins pulsing under the ridges of your palm. it’s all the warning he gets before your lips close around his tip and you take his entire length into your mouth – right until it hits the back of your throat. you don’t even gag when even more precum spills out. 

he moans, already overwhelmed and feeling his stomach tightening rapidly just from the warmth of your throat hugging his cock, but you’re far from done. 

you let saliva fill your mouth before you start bobbing your head, your hand jerking off whatever your mouth can’t reach. jeongin’s on cloud fucking nine. he’s trying his best to hold back, to not just fuck up into the hot hole of your mouth but man, you’re not making it any easier when you hum each time his tip hits the back of your throat. 

his hands tighten in your hair as he barely holds on by a thread of restraint, and you make an appreciative noise around him that has his hips bucking unintentionally. he curses, in apology but also because it felt too good. 

you don’t mind though. you encourage it. and you show him exactly that by going even harder, provoking him to get rough with you and let it all out. you twist your wrist and you lap at his tip like crazy, bobbing your head all the while and humming around his cock. 

“f–uck, ah, tell me–” he trails off, too lost in the sauce to remember what he was gonna say before he holds your head in place, plants his feet on the mattress, and fucks his hips up into your mouth like no tomorrow.

you let him take over, smiling around his cock as he fervently chases the orgasm he so deserves. saliva and precum fill up your mouth and leak down to his balls but jeongin can’t feel anything but the hot, wet, tight hole you’ve so eagerly offered to him. he swears he can feel the rut pains easing from his body with each thrust. 

jeongin cums with a shout, shooting his load down your throat with one fateful thrust. his body goes completely limp, pulling out of your mouth – but you close your lips in time to make sure nothing seeps out. 

jeongin watches your throat bob as you swallow his cum down, and his dick twitches over the sight. 

“you’re so perfect.” he murmurs, almost in disbelief that he even gets to have someone like you to himself (especially with seven partners as needy as he is who must be waiting for their turns.)

you smirk at how his cock is still as hard as it was when you sat on the bed. usually, there’s breaks as you help a partner through a rut or heat. jeongin’s seen you leave the room for water and such as said partner slept or just needed a breather before getting on with another round. 

that’s not jeongin, though. 

his ruts are restless. sickening greed. he’s never had a partner who’s able to keep up with him, or even tolerate him and his incessant need to fuck. that’s not the jeongin any of the pack knows, since he’s been on blockers since they all first started dating him. but that’s who he’s always been – and now you’re the first to be introduced.

“more?” you ask him, a giddy grin across your cheeks. 

he nods, flashing that dimpled smile you adore. “more.”

jeongin makes the move himself this time as he grabs your shoulders and hoists you up until you’re at face level. you giggle at his newfound confidence, and he can’t help but do the same. 

you make quick work of pulling down your shorts, tossing them somewhere in the room. jeongin arches a brow at your lack of underwear. 

“was betting on not needing to wear any,” you add. 

he faux-pouts. “i was gonna ask to keep them.”

“you can take the shorts.” you roll your eyes playfully. “who are you and what have you done with my innie?” 

both hands grab your ass with a light smack, making you squeak. “what do you mean? i haven’t felt so much like myself in years.” 

you smile at him fondly, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “fair. i’m not complaining, though. just didn’t expect you to have such a high drive..” 

“i am an alpha, pretty girl.” he coos. “just thought it was about time i start acting like it.” 

“hm.. i think you can go harder.” 

“yeah?” 

“mhm.” 

jeongin’s tongue pokes his cheek. your eyes sparkle, successfully spurring him on. 

jeongin snarls as he spreads your cheeks apart with a bruising grip, pushing your ass down until his cock ruts against your wet folds. 

“oh fuck,” he lets out a cry at the delicious friction, cock twitching when his tip bumps your clit. “fucking shit, i can’t,” 

“i can take it.” you urge him, shifting your hips to line your hole up with his cock. all it’d take is one good thrust and he’d be sliding home. “innie, i want it all.” you leave a kiss on his lips, one that’s soft given the circumstances. “do your worst.” 

jeongin curses again, rolling over and taking you down with him. you’re pliant as he presses you into the bed, laying on top and lining himself back up. 

he holds his breath as he finally nudges into your pussy, pushing in deliberately slow just to savour the way you pulse around him and adjust to his shape. his cock slides in with ease with how drenched you are, and he lets out a moan once his hips meet your ass with a light clap as he bottoms out.

“fuckfuckfuck,” he’s bumbling in your ear from behind, every thought fizzling out because your pussy’s got him dumb. he waited for this. put himself through avoidable pain while yearning for this, dreaming for this. he already figured why you’re everyone’s favourite, why they all call on you to spend a heat or rut with. but now jeongin’s feeling it firsthand: pulsing and gripping around his cock like a vice. 

he snaps his pelvis, and you both sob in tandem. the angle’s good – he’s all up in there in the right ways. he soils his balls in your arousal as he grinds forward, making sure you feel each inch dragging against your walls. 

“fuuuck, feels too fucking good.” he grunts, pulling out to the tip just to slam back in and have you both jostling up the bed from the force. “i’d fight for this pussy.” 

your giggle’s lost in a gasp as he starts to fuck you ruthlessly, cock ramming into your g-spot with each of his pointed thrusts. 

jeongin snakes a hand around the front of your neck, splaying his fingers out to press in to your scent glands on either side of your neck. the noise you let out damn nearly makes him cum on the spot, and his effort to not is nearly in vain when you clamp down around his cock from the sensitivity. 

he moans, pressing his palm further into your throat. not hard enough to hurt, but enough pressure to leave your head fuzzy as he fucks into you like a madman – swiping a thumb across your tender gland whenever he wants to feel you squeeze the life out of his cock. 

his head falls down to your shoulder, and you shiver at the cold metal of his chain hitting your skin. 

“i don’t want any of them having this,” jeongin hisses, running his tongue over your scent gland, your sweet taste lighting up his palate as you clench down on his cock as if on instinct. “shit, ugh, want this pussy to be mine– all fucking mine.”

“innie!” you cry out, fireworks bursting behind your eyelids as he rubs the scent gland on his neck right up on yours – the taste of honey on the back of your throat. 

he snarls, resisting the urge to just bite down and leave a mark on the spot – a statement to anyone who tries to scent you. he was here first, and it’s his from now on. 

he settles on your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the skin and revelling in how your body responds. he leaves a patch of bites there: soothing each sting with his tongue. 

“wan.. wanna see you,” you all but sob, helpless to the noises jeongin’s pulling from you by hitting your g-spot just right each time. 

“fuck.”

it’s all fast movement from there, jeongin not even pulling out as he leans back enough to spin you over and have you laying facing him. when he fucks you again, it’s somehow even harder – his chain dangling in your face with each hard thrust. 

you could almost laugh at the irony of it being a cross. you pull jeongin’s face down by the chain, makin a show of biting the metal cross between your teeth as fucks you. 

he grunts, lashes flutter.. and then he loses it. 

“shitfuck–ah ah–” he’s whimpering, mind completely honed in on how you’re spasming around him and moaning around his chain in your mouth. he shoots a hand down to your pussy, rubbing quick eights onto your clit, and you all but scream as he sends you into an orgasm. 

you squeeze down around his cock and wring him out for all he’s worth as he cums in tandem with you, muffling his pathetic moan around your neck as he sucks a bruise onto your scent gland. 

even after both of your orgasms, jeongin’s still fucking you, just to feel the mess of your cum gushing around his cock. you’re long past sensitive, writhing under his body keeping you pressed into the mattress – and yet you still moan when you feel a fresh load of warm cum seep into your pussy, jeongin trembling above you after reaching yet another orgasm. 

he pulls out slowly, careful to let as little as possible seep out. ideally, he wants his cum to still be there the next time you fuck someone else. he wants whoever it is to taste him and think of him as they eat you out. 

on that note… 

jeongin shuffles down your body, greedy hands prying your jelly thighs apart and licking his lips at the sight of your messy, wet hole. 

“please sit on my face?” 

you laugh, head lolling back on the bed. “here i was thinking you were done.” 

jeongin clicks his tongue. “baby, this is foreplay.” 

—

for the first time all day, jeongin retrieves his phone from the spot he left it and checks the time. 

3:42.

damn, it’s been a whole day since he woke up knocking on death’s door. he almost forgot that happened with how he’s spent the last countless hours sucking and fucking his beautiful girlfriend. 

you curl into his side, seeking out his warmth even after an entire day of feeling that same warmth all up in your guts. 

he kisses the crown of your head, admiring how cute you are cuddled into him like this. he feels his cock stirring, but he’s not so evil he’ll wake you up from the sleep you very much deserve after dealing with a rut as high maintenance as his. 

it’s okay. none of your other partners have come knocking at the door, so he’s sure they won’t mind if jeongin needs you for another day. just in case the rut pains come back, of course. 

jeongin’s bedroom door swinging open cuts through the moment of peace – both of you jolting upright in bed, squinting to make out the illuminated figure standing in the doorway who dare disturb your slumber. 

“yah, she was trying to sleep.” jeongin whisper-yells. 

“well i can’t because i’ve been bricked up all day.” seungmin says bluntly. “sooo you doing me next or what??”

@ttturnitup @jhthings @seungttttop @fweakygyatt @lunaryoongie @binneulton @kits-treasure-trove @kpopishgirlie

[everglowdaisies]

THE END HAHAHA

[ghostintheclub]

Say My Name | Jeongin

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Summary: Jeongin is protective and always appears when you say his name

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jeongin learns the way you try to take up less space.

You’ll edge out of the doorway if someone’s coming through, even when you’ve got every right to be there. You’ll laugh softly at jokes that aren’t funny just to keep the mood smooth. When someone’s tone turns sharp, your shoulders do this tiny flinch like your body’s bracing before your mind can catch up.

Jeongin’s been around a lot of people. Loud people. Confident people. People who think being harsh makes them important.

You’re not like that.

You’re gentle in a way that’s not fragile, but it does mean people sometimes try to test what they can get away with.

It makes something protective spark in him, quiet and steady.

He doesn’t say it out loud right away. He’s not dramatic about his feelings. He just starts doing little things. Always walking on the side of the hallway closest to the traffic. Always checking your face when a staff member talks too fast or too brusque. Always asking, “You okay?” with his hand lightly on your wrist like a bookmark.

One day, you’re waiting near the practice room with a little plastic cup of iced coffee sweating in your hands. He jogs out during break, hair damp, cheeks flushed, eyes bright when he spots you.

He lights up like you’re something he gets to have.

“Hey,” he says, breathless. “You’re here.”

You smile. “I said I’d come.”

“Yeah,” he says, like he’s still surprised it’s real, then he leans closer and lowers his voice. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” you say automatically.

He squints at you the way he does when he’s not buying it. “That’s your default answer.”

You blink.

He laughs softly and nudges your shoulder. “I’m not saying you’ve gotta be loud. I like you quiet. I just… don’t like when people make you quiet.”

That hits a little too close to whatever tender place you keep hidden.

Jeongin’s expression softens like he realizes it immediately. He reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, careful, sweet.

“Listen,” he says, voice firm in that gentle way he has. “If anyone says something that makes you feel small, you don’t have to handle it alone. Just call me.”

You huff a tiny laugh. “You’re always busy.”

“I don’t care,” he says, immediate. “Just call my name. Even if it’s quiet. I’ll hear you.”

You look at him, unsure. “You can’t hear me from everywhere.”

He gives you a stubborn little nod. “Try me.”

You should tease him, but your chest does that soft squeeze that always happens when someone promises you something and actually means it.

“Okay,” you whisper.

He grins like he just won. “Good.”

Then he squeezes your hand and jogs back in before the coach yells, leaving you standing there with your coffee and this strange new feeling like maybe you’re not alone anymore.

Not really.

—

You’re in the styling area, hovering near the doorway because you don’t want to get in the way. Jeongin’s in the chair getting his hair adjusted. You watch his reflection in the mirror and he catches your eyes, smiles small and secret, like he’s saving it just for you.

Then a makeup artist walks in and the air shifts.

She’s not yelling. That would be easier. She’s doing the quiet kind of mean, the kind that hides behind “just saying” and “I’m only being honest.”

Her eyes skim over you, quick, dismissive.

“You’re still here,” she says, like you’re a smudge on glass.

Your stomach dips. “I’m waiting for him. I can move if I’m in the way.”

She snorts, checking her kit. “You’re not in the way. You’re just… distracting.”

You freeze.

She glances at you again, mouth curling. “You’re really shy, huh? He likes that type?”

Heat floods your face. Your mouth opens, but your thoughts trip over themselves. You’re suddenly aware of how everyone else is moving and talking like the whole room is a conveyor belt and you’re the one object that doesn’t belong on it.

You try to laugh it off. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to..”

“Oh, don’t apologize,” she says, but the tone is sharp. “It’s just… if you’re going to be around idols, you should try a little harder. You look like you rolled out of bed.”

Your fingers tighten around your phone.

You want to say something. You really do. Something clean and clever. Something that makes her blink and rethink. But your throat locks up the way it always does when you feel cornered. The words go missing, like they’re hiding from the sting.

Jeongin glances up in the mirror, frown starting, but the makeup artist blocks his view with her shoulder and keeps talking.

“It’s not personal,” she adds, sweetly. “I’m just giving you advice. If you’re going to date someone like him, you can’t be… plain.”

Your ears ring.

Plain.

You swallow, hard, and the old reflex tries to pull you smaller. Keep it quiet. Don’t make a scene. Don’t embarrass anyone. Just take it and move on.

Your thumb hovers over your screen like you could text Jeongin, but he’s right there, in the chair, surrounded by people, and you feel stupid. Childish. Dramatic.

Then you remember what he said.

Just call my name.

Even if it’s quiet.

You don’t even lift your head. You just breathe the word out like a secret.

“Jeongin.”

It’s barely sound.

But it’s enough.

Jeongin’s head turns instantly, like a dog hearing a whistle nobody else catches. His eyes find you, lock on, and everything in his face changes.

Not anger exactly.

More like clarity.

He stands up so fast the stylist’s hands lift away in surprise. “Hold on,” he says, polite but firm. “I need a second.”

The makeup artist huffs. “We’re in the middle of this.”

Jeongin doesn’t look at her yet. He walks straight to you.

“Hey,” he says softly, like he’s stepping into your space on purpose. “What’s wrong?”

Your throat wobbles. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

His brows knit. “No, you’re not.”

The makeup artist clicks her tongue. “She’s fine. She’s just sensitive. I was only telling her she should put more effort in if she’s going to be backstage.”

Jeongin finally turns toward her.

His voice stays calm, but there’s a steel edge under it. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

She blinks, offended. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t,” he repeats, simple and final. “She didn’t ask for your opinion.”

The makeup artist’s mouth tightens. “I’m just being honest.”

Jeongin’s smile is polite and cold for the first time you’ve ever seen it. “Then be honest with someone else. Not her.”

A couple of staff members go quiet. Someone pretends to focus very hard on a brush cup.

Jeongin steps a little closer to you, not hiding you, but making it clear he’s beside you. His hand finds yours, fingers threading through like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“She’s here because I want her here,” he says. “If that’s a problem for you, you can talk to the coordinator. But you’re not going to make comments about her face or her clothes or anything else.”

The makeup artist scoffs. “You idols are all the same.”

Jeongin tilts his head. “Maybe. But I’m not the one being rude.”

You’re shaking a little, and he must feel it because his thumb starts rubbing slow circles over your knuckles. It’s grounding, like he’s quietly saying, I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.

Then he looks down at you, voice softening back into something only you get.

“Do you want to stay in here,” he asks, “or do you want to go somewhere quieter?”

Your eyes sting. “Quieter.”

He nods. “Okay. We’re going.”

The makeup artist opens her mouth again, but Jeongin cuts in, still polite, still controlled. “I’ll finish hair in the other room. Someone can coordinate the rest.”

He’s already guiding you out, hand warm around yours, moving like he knows exactly where to take you. Not rushed, not dramatic, just certain. Like this is what he promised and now he’s doing it.

You end up in a hallway nook near a vending machine, away from the bright mirror lights and the buzzing energy. There’s a little bench there. Jeongin sits down first and pulls you gently beside him like it’s automatic.

You finally let out the breath you’ve been holding.

“I’m sorry,” you start, because you always do.

He turns to you so fast you stop mid-word.

“No,” he says, firm. “Don’t do that.”

Your voice comes out small. “I didn’t want to cause trouble.”

“You didn’t,” he says. “She did.”

You blink at him.

He exhales, then his expression softens into something sweet, almost shy. “Is that why you didn’t say anything? Because you didn’t want to bother anyone?”

You nod, embarrassed.

Jeongin shakes his head, like he’s trying to reset your whole brain with one motion. “You’re not a bother. You’re my favorite person.”

Your eyes widen. “Jeongin.”

He smiles, and his cheeks go a little pink like he can’t help it. “It’s true.”

You swallow, trying not to cry. “I feel stupid for calling you.”

He looks genuinely offended at that. “Why?”

“It was so quiet,” you whisper. “I didn’t even know if you’d hear.”

He leans closer, forehead bumping yours gently. “I heard.”

Your breath catches.

“I told you,” he murmurs. “Say my name and I’m there. That’s not a cute line. I meant it.”

You laugh a little, watery. “You really just stood up in the middle of hair.”

He grins. “Yeah, and I’d do it again.”

Then his gaze turns softer, more serious. “Next time, you can tell her to stop yourself if you want. I can help you practice. Like… we can rehearse.”

You blink. “Rehearse standing up for myself?”

He nods, completely serious. “Yeah. I rehearse everything. Why wouldn’t we rehearse that too?”

That’s so him it makes your chest ache.

“And until you feel ready,” he adds, quieter, “you can borrow my courage. I’ve got extra.”

You stare at him, stunned.

He squeezes your hand. “You don’t have to be loud to be strong, okay? You can be soft and still have a backbone. You’re allowed to take up space.”

You nod, slowly.

He brightens, like he’s relieved you’re still here with him. “Good. Now… do you want a drink? I’m getting you something.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he says, already standing. “And I’m picking. Because you’re sad and that means I’m in charge of snacks.”

You laugh, a real laugh this time.

He returns with your favorite drink, the one you always get, and you don’t even remember telling him that’s your favorite. He hands it to you with this proud little smile like he just solved a puzzle.

“There,” he says. “Better?”

You take a sip. Your shoulders drop.

Jeongin sits back down, closer now, and he rests his head lightly on your shoulder like he’s claiming his spot.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Mm?”

“Thank you.”

He lifts his head, eyes warm. “For what?”

“For hearing me,” you say.

He smiles, soft and sure. “Always.”

tag list: @puppymsworld @royallavenderlilac @clairementsolo @1giss4swft3 @hannalegie @stilesstilinskiforlife-blog @skznoir @doodlebob2005 @chandlxa @keymeadoww @cchapssaltteok @kloversung @g0obz @channies-babygurl @lucyysthings @foppishitudinality @ellyyyysstuff @rylea08 @tteokbbokkari @nyaaa-cat @chuahuahua @applesrpeak @thicccurls @pinknymphkisses @zeezo554 @mikachux3 @iconicallyher @sanniix33 @lalalili435 @bbokarismeow @delightful-light @karlee10261990

[everglowdaisies]

stopp that was too cute omg

[minsung-archived]

ARIRANG — behind the scenes @ music core (251122)

[everglowdaisies]

heheh

[linoxpudding]

Fanfic Secrets (Maknae Line)

summary: when he catches you reading his fanfic

pairing: skz maknae line x fem!reader

genre: fluff, humor

Hyung Line

~°~

Han Jisung

Lee Felix

Kim Seungmin

Yang Jeongin

--------------------

Permanent Taglist 1:

@lov3rachan @pixie-felix @ellemir2404 @willowhanji @skzimagines @wavetohannie @jamroses @vietjeb @kayleefriedchicken @kokinu09 @nightmarenyxx @my-neurodivergent-world @shuuporanglinos @silly250 @thecutiepieme @stay-tiny-things @inlovewithstraykids @skz-ot8-stay @emilyywhyy @havenwithleeknow @hungryhobbit815 @seungminnieinthebuilding @geni-627 @ye0lkkot @yaorzu-blog @butterflybananabread @nightshadeblooming @rockstarkkami @finannn @poody1608 @scarlet789 @mbioooo0000 @icannotbelieveit @casperlynn23 @rtyuy1346 @maddy24207 @ari-hwanggg @jisuperboard @nougatjade @skzlover24 @velvetmoonlght @unintentionalbee @theeonlywanii @enhacolor @aria-again @millannniii @silentreadersthings

[everglowdaisies]

lolll

[gingerayen]

ρ᥅ꫀ-᥇ꪮꪗᠻ᥅꠸ꫀꪀᦔ ꪻꫀ᥊ꪻᦓ - ꫝꪖꪀ ꠹꠸ᦓꪊꪀᧁ

Synopsys: texts with Hannie before he became your boyfriend!! Reader is Chan's little sister in this. >.<

If there are any typos in the screenshots, no, there are not!!!!

Genre: fluff, slight angst, but very happy ending

ENJOYYY!!!

[everglowdaisies]

MY BABY QUOKKA OMG

[filmrku]

THIS YOUR MAN ? ━━ han jisung

✸ ⠀⠀. bf!hanjisung (+platonic!skz) x fem!reader. ⠀ 𖥦🗨️ ⠀your boyfriend has been a bit too busy to come meet you, so his band members take it upon themselves to update you about him. ⠀cw. nudes mentioned, sex mentioned, jeongin lactose intolerance, chan thinks reader is a witch

⸝⸝ ⟡ filmrku roll: i dont even know why so many of them turned out sexual/semi sexual. my feelings for jisung just do that i think. i want him so bad. STOP. i might make similar ones for other members. idk. lmk if you'd read those? okay bai <3 taglist: @heartfullofswords @the-firstfruit @millannniii @eveeeeeer

© filmrku 2025

[everglowdaisies]

AWW SO CUTE

[hyunjinnieisms]

𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐟!𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

𝐬𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 14

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 - freak x freak established relationship, suggestive MDNI, mentions of oral (f receiving), mention of cock warming, mentions of piv, mention of mirror sex, implied phone sex/m!masturbation, munch hyunjin bc it’s me, omegaverse and mpreg jokes

i love these text posts sm, i’ll probably make a normal fluffy one eventually lol

thank you sm for reading!!

[everglowdaisies]

oop