Nice to meet you! The name is Ara! 🤍

Just a 27 year old weirdo. I kind of write whenever I feel like it. (18+)

[faeprincess777]

🌸Ara's Masterlist🌸

Most fics here are very mature. Minors should beware.

❤️SKZ Masterlist 🩷

🩷Ateez Masterlist❤️

My Favorite Stray Kids Fics (Pt.2)(Pt.3)(Pt.4)

My Favorite Ateez Fics (Pt.2)(Pt.3)(Pt.4)(Pt.5)

❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️ 🩷 ❤️

[faeprincess777]

Run, Baby, Run

Summary: What was supposed to be a quiet night in quickly turns into a game of chase when teasing Mingi goes a little too far.

Mingi x reader

TW: slightly suggestive, overall just Mingi and reader being cute ❤️

The satin hem of your nightgown swished around your legs as you spun in a lazy circle, humming to yourself like the bedroom was your own private stage. Moonlight spilled through the curtains, catching on the fabric and making you glow.

From the bed, Mingi watched in complete silence.

One elbow propped beneath him, hair tousled, bare chest half-hidden by the blankets—he looked entirely too good for someone who was supposed to be winding down for sleep. His eyes tracked every sway of your hips, every teasing smile you threw over your shoulder.

You knew that look.

“Come here,” he said, voice low, biting his lip.

Instead, you took one slow step backward toward the bedroom door.

His brows lifted.

A grin spread across your face.

“Jagi,” he warned, pushing himself up straighter. “I said get over here.”

The stern tone should’ve been intimidating.

Should’ve.

But the smirk tugging at his mouth ruined any chance of that.

You took another step back.

His expression sharpened instantly.

The room went still for half a second.

Then you giggled and bolted.

Your bare feet slapped against the floor as you flew down the hall, laughter spilling out of you. Behind you came the sound of sheets being thrown back and heavy footsteps chasing after you.

“Baby,” he called, voice drawn out and dangerous in the most thrilling way.

You made it to the kitchen just in time to nearly collide with Jongho, who stood there holding a bottle of water and looking entirely too calm for the chaos entering his space.

Without hesitation, you darted behind him, clutching his shoulders like a human shield.

“Mingi’s being scary,” you said through laughter.

Jongho blinked once. “I literally just came for water.”

A second later, Mingi appeared in the doorway, slightly breathless, hair a mess, eyes dark and fixed only on you.

He stopped when he saw you hiding behind Jongho.

Then he scoffed.

“Really?”

You peeked around Jongho’s shoulder. “You can’t catch me if I have security.”

Jongho slowly twisted the cap back onto his water bottle. “I am not security.”

Mingi stalked forward anyway, gaze never leaving yours.

“You think he’s going to save you?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said immediately.

“No,” Jongho said at the same time.

You burst into another fit of laughter.

That was your mistake.

The distraction gave Mingi exactly the opening he needed.

One second you were safe, the next you were yelping as he hooked an arm around your waist and lifted you clean off the floor.

“Mingi!” you squealed, kicking your feet uselessly.

“You’re done,” he said, trying and failing to hide his grin against your neck.

Jongho took one sip of water. “Good luck.”

You reached dramatically toward him as Mingi carried you down the hall. “Traitor!”

The kitchen lights faded behind you as Mingi hauled you back to the bedroom, your laughter slowly softening when he nudged the door shut with his foot.

He set you gently on the mattress, towering above you for a moment, one hand braced beside your head.

“So,” he murmured, thumb brushing the strap of your nightgown back into place. “Still feeling brave?”

Your breath caught.

Maybe a little less brave now.

You tried for one last playful smile. “Depends.”

“On what?”

You looped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer until your lips barely brushed his.

“On whether you plan on punishing me… or rewarding me for the cardio.”

He stared at you for half a second.

Then he laughed—deep, warm, impossible to resist—before kissing you slow enough to make your toes curl.

Tagging: @mimikittysblog

[sanjoongie]

Weighted Breath

🩷Summary: what do you do when your sleep paralysis demon is highkey obsessed with you... and the idea of you being turned on by him.

🩷Pairing: Sleep Paralysis Demon! Park Seonghwa x Reader (f)

🩷Genre: smut

🩷Au: supernatural, demon

🩷Trope: obsession

🩷Rating: 18+, MDNI

🩷Word Count: 2,004

🩷Warnings: ⚠️dark content⚠️caution if you suffer from the above affliction! just exploring some fucked up ideas, somnophilia, noncon, fingering, nipple play, masturbation (f), edging, oral (m), sex with no protection, fear kink, creampie, demon cum

🩷Author's Note: *pained smile* Alexa play Radiohead's Just

🩷Divider by @/cursed-carmine

There you were, his beautiful dark angel. Most of the time you slept in such a tangle of blankets and limbs, but for a few sweet moments when Seonghwa haunted you, you remained still. The vestiges of the dreamcatcher that you had put up in an attempt to halt his appearances crumbles in his hands and falls to the floor. 

Seonghwa’s eyes immediately zoom in on the sliver of skin between your baggy sleep shirt and shorts. Oh, how he loves to run the pads of his fingers over the soft flesh when you cannot move an inch. He can’t help it, he’s addicted to you. His index finger slips under the waistband and he immediately gasps and pulls back. 

The sleep paralysis demon’s gaze descends to your ample thighs that are on display for him with your blankets practically kicked off. His hands squeeze and massage the skin there. There’s plenty for him to touch, pushing one leg a little upwards so he can feel the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

Seonghwa has to stop, he knows he does. He’s only ever admired your soft skin, he’s never gone beyond a touch in your innocent areas. 

But tonight, you let out the tiniest whimper. It’s barely there in the night air before it’s gone, but Seonghwa fucking heard it.

In an instant, Seonghwa’s straddling your body on the bed, hands pushing up your shirt, both palms sliding up your ribs. He stops just barely under your breasts, before he can cup you. He breathes in deeply, eyes fluttering shut as he attempts to get himself under control.

You’re his beautiful dark angel and temptation itself. Typically, he’d be fine terrifying the shit out of you, or anyone for that matter. But one of these nights he had caught the whiff of arousal from you and it had intrigued him. Had you gotten off in an attempt to fall into a deeper sleep and avoid him? 

Or… he allowed himself the thought that he was the object of your desire. Imagine if during the tiny moments of shadows clinging to him, his eyes white pinpricks in the otherwise dark room, you were rubbing one out to him?!

Seonghwa swallows loudly and his hands creep that half an inch until he’s carefully bouncing your tits in his palms. He licks his lips at the thought of your nipples. He’s yet to touch or see them and he’s almost drooling for the chance. 

“Did you really think a silly dreamcatcher was going to keep me away, hmmm?” Seonghwa hums mockingly. “I’m much more powerful than a trinket.”

With an almost petty push, Seonghwa shoves your shirt upwards. His thumb flicks your soft nipples, making them pert with the touch. It’s not long before Seonghwa’s extended his lanky body along yours, all thoughts of holding back gone. His tongue is wrapped around your nipple, sucking greedily. His fingers have finally shoved under your waistband and have been teasing and tempting your outer and inner lips with brief touches. 

Your breathing has quickened at the pleasure that Seonghwa offers. You can’t move as the paralysis demon takes advantage of the moment that he haunts you. You’re wet and Seonghwa smirks to himself. His beautiful dark angel is enjoying what he’s doling out. 

He pops off your nipple to watch your face as he finally, treacherously, circles your clit with his middle finger. Your eyes race behind your lids and your eyebrows faintly furrow at the tease. 

“Do you like that, Angel?” Seonghwa murmurs into the shell of your ear, eyes hooded in lust for you. 

The paralysis demon becomes addicted to the way your hips twitch upwards as he edges you with brief touches to your clit, every so often moving back to your hole to sweep up some more wetness and to go back to circling your clit. It’s slowly rising from its hood, and your breathing is getting faster. 

Your quiet noises escalate to something a little bit more louder, a little bit more fearful. Seonghwa feels the tendrils of your horror feeding him and his eyes snap upwards to your face. That moment that used to be when he fed from you came without his knowledge. Your eyes were open and fully capable of seeing him touching you in such a taboo manner.

Before Seonghwa can control his powers, he snaps out of existence, a pure instinctual reaction to his worry. For he had not intended to feed on your fear that evening, while touching you so intimately.

You sit up and gasp, bringing a hand to your chest, clearly to calm your beating heart. “What the hell?” You cry out, unsure exactly what that had been all about.

Your eyes find the broken dreamcatcher beside your pillow and you whimper for a different reason. Seonghwa can’t help but close his eyes and breathe in your delicious terror. You fed him quite well, even though it wasn’t the normal quiet build up of fear. 

“Seriously, what the fuck?” You shout louder, throwing the broken dreamcatcher. “Am I broken too?”

Seonghwa chuckles to himself, not like you could hear him regardless, but it’s the quiet kind of chuckle that only comes from a man that’s satisfied with a bewildered but turned on partner. 

“You’re perfect for me, not broken, angel,” He says in the mirror to your world that is the demon realm. 

You gather your blankets around yourself and with a huff, close your eyes tight and attempt to go back to sleep. But your heart is still beating wildly. Seonghwa can feel it pulsating. You definitely weren’t feeding him anymore, which meant…

Seonghwa leans forward, over the bed, and hears a soft gasp come from you. Were you…? 

A diabolical grin pulls at the sleep paralysis demon’s face. You were finishing what he started. He leaves your room with a newfound confidence. Tomorrow night would be a whole different story. 

When your sleep paralysis demon visits you next, excitement thrums through his veins. He’s always excited to see his beautiful dark angel but this time, knowing that you crave him like he craves you, brings newness to his visit. 

He smells the air and then laughs condescendingly. “Sage? Really, Angel?” He sees the circle of salt around your bed as well. Why were you playing hard to get when you got so wet at his inquiring touches? Seonghwa clucks his tongue at you. You deserve punishment for trying to stop him. 

This time, as he crawls on the bed, he pinches your nipple roughly through your shirt in passing and then begins to undo the belt to his pants. He’s imagined pushing his cock into your pliant mouth a million and one times. He feels himself get hard as the anticipation gets to him.

“There’s my girl,” He coos at you, smearing his cockhead against your lips. 

Capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger, he drops your jaw and pushes past your precum smothered lips. His roll into the back of his head as your warm and wet mouth encompasses his length. His eagerness to fit himself entirely into you causes you to choke, having shoved too deeply into your mouth. He lets out a desperate cry. The feeling of your throat desperately trying to swallow him has his heart speeding up as well. 

He can’t help himself, really, as his pelvis presses flush with your lips. The sweet, wet, choking noise you continue to make becomes music to his ears. Spit is starting to spill out of the corner of your lips and the blowjob is only getting messier. Seonghwa has to reign himself back in before he explodes in your mouth. That’s not how he wants his first time with you to go. 

“Such a temptation, Angel,” He murmurs, lovingly wiping the mixture of his precum and your spit from your chin. 

Your eyes are open now and Seonghwa grins wildly. “There you are. Just in time. I want you to watch while I take your body exactly where you want to go.”

You make weak noises of distress and Seonghwa is fed with your fear. He closes his eyes and drinks in your offerings. “I’ll repay the favor, don’t you worry.”

Seonghwa removes your sleep shorts and thumbs your clit through your underwear. He barely touches you but a wet spot appears through your grey panties. “Did you get wet from taking me so well in your mouth? Ugh, you’re so perfect,” Seonghwa whispers reverently. 

Your breath is coming out in short, panicked spurts. Seonghwa licks his lips lazily. “I know what you did after I touched you last night, Angel. You liked how I played with you while you slept and while you couldn't move.”

You let out another noise, this one of clear disagreement, which causes Seonghwa to chuckle. “Of course you did. Why else would I be drawn to you, to feed from your fear?”

Your sleep paralysis demon pushes aside your panties and ruts his cock along your wet folds. He doesn’t need to coat himself in anything, your mouth having done a damn good job, but he likes the way your breath hitches and your thighs clench with your restricted movement. 

“Your throat took me so well, I’m sure your pussy will as well,” Seonghwa hums in contentment. 

You both let out a moan in unison as he enters your sopping cunt. The stretch is something for you, and you clench down on his length. 

“Oh yes,” Seonghwa hisses, feeling your walls fight his girth. “I’ll fuck you for every inch.”

His hips rock forward, opening you up for him. Seonghwa leans forward, running a finger down your cheek. “So good for me. I’ll make sure you come this time, Angel. I promise.”

You let out a whine. Seonghwa can’t help but press his body against yours, leaving all his weight on you. He likes the way your soft curves feel against him. You let out more distressed noises. 

“You’re going to come so hard, angel. Breath restriction’s a bit of my area of expertise,” Seonghwa chuckles. 

Seonghwa continues to thrust into you and this time, the noises you make are tiny little cries of pleasure. “You gonna come? You gonna come for me?” He leans so that he can whisper the next part against the shell of your ear. “Come apart for me, Angel.”

You let out a long, drawn out moan as your climax hits you like an avalanche. It takes your breath away. You can’t close your eyes as it sweeps Seonghwa away as well. He lets out a loud cry, back arching as he unloads directly into you. Those terrifying pinpricks of light disappear but the darkness continues to consume you. Your vision starts to dim and you make a panicked screech.

“Oh fuck,” Seonghwa curses, and he lifts himself off of you. 

You suck in greedy breaths of air as the weight of your chest is lifted. In through your nose and out. You whine and whimper at the terrifying experience.

But all Seonghwa can focus on is the dark, viscous fluid that’s leaking from your pretty cunt. His lips part in awe. “My cum looks so good dripping from your pussy, Angel.”

Then suddenly, your sleep paralysis demon is gone. You can move now but the first thing you do is groan and put your head in your hands. Had you actually enjoyed that?! You let out a yelp, as sitting up has encouraged the foreign fluid in between your legs to gush out even more. 

“What the fuck?” is still the only thing you can manage. Because seriously, what the fuck was going on right now?

Your sleep paralysis demon had fucked you. You had come because of it. You shudder and you're not sure what's the cause: excitement or terror. Or maybe it's a little bit of both.

Because if you knew anything about your sleep paralysis demon… he was going to come back.

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

mdni ⋆˚✿🍒𐙚⋆˚

choi san and his humongous breeding kink. he takes this shit seriously. he runs the tightest program known to man trying to knock you up. he has an app that tracks your cycle and he checks it everyday religiously — regardless of the fact that he's got it memorized.

when you're ovulating, god help your soul. he has you in the meanest positions possible all while he's practically praying for his seed to take root inside of you. folding you in half is always a good option, pillow shoved under your hips to help him hit deeper. missionary is fun, doggy style even more so. every position in the book, just to keep things interesting.

his favorite has to be taking you full nelson, feet bouncing as he fucks his thick inches up into your messy cunt. kissing your shoulder as he uses you like an oversized cocksleeve; pulling you up and down, he moans, "c'mon baby, make me a daddy."

[wicked-disposition]

I feel so crazy right now…. I really need a fix of his dick 😩

[hanjinology]

drabble — chan can pretty much take everything, but not his ego.

You were insatiable.

That was the first thing Chan learned about you when you started dating, and months later it still left him breathless, addicted, and occasionally wrecked. No matter how many times he made you cum—on his tongue, his fingers, his cock—you always came back for more, eyes dark and body already humming with fresh need. Some nights you’d pounce the second he walked through the door, dropping to your knees before he could even set his bag down. Other nights you’d ride him for hours until sweat slicked both your bodies and his voice went hoarse from groaning your name.

He loved it. Most of the time.

Tonight, though, he was exhausted. You've been all over him for the rest of the day, that leaves him exhausted and dried. Too much for him to mive anymore.

Chan was sprawled on the couch in nothing but gray sweatpants, one arm slung behind his head, the other lazily curled around you as some action movie played on the TV. His thumb idly stroked your thigh, half-distracted. You were already worked up, again, pressing hot little kisses along his neck, guiding his free hand between your legs.

You weren’t wearing panties.

Two of his fingers sank easily into your soaked cunt, curling just the way you liked. You moaned softly against his skin, rocking your hips, chasing the friction. He pumped them steadily, thumb circling your clit, but his eyes stayed on the screen. You rode his hand harder, breath hitching, thighs trembling as you came with a quiet gasp.

But you didn't stop from riding his fingers, relentless amd desperate to reach another one of those orgasm he could give you. Once, twice, thrice more. But it wasn't enough. Of course, it wasn't enough. It won't be enough for you, Chan knowsbthat already, so eventhough his wrists aches from koving the same action over and over again, he still does everything he could to at least make you feel good, despite being exhausted.

So imagine his shock when suddenly you sat up, flushed and glassy-eyed, and kissed him once—deep and filthy—before pulling back away from him. Chest heaving up and down, that expression on your face he knows very well.

"You know how much I love you, yeah?" You hummed against his lips, although confused, Chan nodded his head.

"Great, so you wouldn't mind if I slip on our room and take care of myself? I love you, I really really do, but your hands doesn't do much for me right now. I needed something more. I promise, I'll be quick."

Chan blinked, a little dazed as you slipped off the couch and disappeared into your shared bedroom. The door clicked shut.

At first he just shrugged it off, adjusting his hardening cock in his sweats, as much as he wanted to help you out, his whole body is already aching. You were insatiable, yeah, but you’d come back. You always did.

Then he heard it.

The low, familiar buzz of your vibrator. Followed by your moan—loud, shameless, unrestrained.

Chan’s jaw tightened. Another moan, higher this time, and the wet, rhythmic sound of you fucking yourself with your toys. He could picture it perfectly; legs spread wide on the bed, one hand pinching your nipple while the other worked that thick silicone cock in and out of your dripping pussy, the vibrator pressed hard against your clit.

His ego took the hit like a punch to the gut.

What the fuck? After everything he gave you? Hours of him buried inside you, making you scream until your throat was raw, you still needed toys to feel satisfied? His hand wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough?

The vibrator’s intensity kicked up. Your moans turned into desperate, broken whimpers.

Something in Chan snapped.

He stood up fast, exhaustion vanished from him, replaced by fury. He felt his ego wounded, and stormed down the hall. He didn’t even knock. The door flew open.

You were exactly as he’d imagined. Naked, legs splayed obscenely, one of your thick dildos stretching your pussy while the vibrator buzzed mercilessly against your swollen clit. Your eyes flew open when he entered, lips parted on a moan.

"What— Chan!"

He was on you before you could finish his name. He ripped the toys away and tossed them aside with a clatter. You gasped as he shoved you flat on your back, yanking your thighs apart roughly. His sweats were shoved down just enough to free his aching cock—hard, flushed dark, leaking at the tip.

“Chan!” you shrieked.

“You think those silicone pieces of shit can fuck you better than me?” His voice was low, dangerous, all the usual softness gone. He lined himself up and slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

You cried out, back arching sharply. He was thicker than any toy, and the sudden stretch burned so good.

Chan didn’t give you time to adjust. He fucked you like he was punishing you, deep, punishing strokes that made the bed creak and your tits bounce. One hand pinned your wrists above your head, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise.

“Hours,” he growled against your ear, hips snapping relentlessly. “I fuck you for hours and you still sneak off to let toys stretch this greedy little cunt? You're a disgusting whore.”

You could barely speak, only moan and sob his name as he railed you. Every thrust dragged against that perfect spot inside you, brutal and precise. He was so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach.

He pulled out suddenly, flipped you onto your stomach, and your hips up. He mounted you again, fucking you even harder from behind, one hand fisting your hair.

“Tell me,” he demanded, voice rough. “Tell me those toys will never be enough again.”

“It won’t—ahh—fuck, Chan—!” you cried, pushing back to meet his thrusts.

He reached around and rubbed your clit in tight, mean circles. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, walls clamping down around his cock so hard he groaned. But he didn’t stop. He fucked you straight through it, chasing his own release while you shook and drooled into the sheets.

When he came, it was with a guttural moan, burying himself as deep as possible and flooding you with hot, thick spurts. He stayed inside you, grinding slow and possessive, making sure every drop stayed right where it belonged. He finally let go of your body after what felt like an eternity, collapsing beside you with a heavy, satisfied groan. His chest heaved, skin glistening with sweat, cock still twitching from the force of his release.

The second his grip loosened, you rolled onto your back, smiling up at the ceiling with hazy, half-lidded eyes. Your body was trembling, thighs sticky with his cum and your own arousal, but the lazy, blissed-out grin on your face said everything.

“I didn’t know you could do that…” you murmured dreamily, voice hoarse and dazed, still floating in the afterglow.

Chan froze. A deep flush crawled up his neck and across his cheeks. He groaned in pure embarrassment, throwing one arm over his face as he turned his head into the pillow.

“Shut up,” he muttered, voice muffled and mortified, though you could hear the hint of a shy laugh in it.

You let out a weak, satisfied laugh, your fingers lazily threading through his damp hair.

“Baby… that was so hot,” you whispered, still smiling dreamily. “I think I need you to get jealous of my toys more often.” Chan groaned again, louder this time, his arm wrapped around your waist as he bury  his face on your neck.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he mumbled to which made you giggle again and maybe let him rest for now because honestly, the exhaustion is starting to come over you now.

a/n: hi! hey, so i promise i am currently taking a rest. But after reading certain jjk fic i just had to do a similar thing to it. this was very much inspired to that sukuna smut i read that i forgot to save. i thought i shared it but turns out i didn't. please, if you know what fic i am talking about please tag the author so i could credit them properly. ANYWAYS. Just dropping this off and then see you all once i completely recovered. LOVE LOTS <333

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all rights reserved © 2026 sitri. none of my works shall be produced or reproduced in any form without consent and proper asking.

[slutkids]

Wave After Wave - B.C

Bangchan x Reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: choking

‼️MDNI‼️

You and Chan were finally taking a vacation, a break from the press and the cameras and the many nights away from each other. It was exhausting, and you finally convinced your boyfriend to leave the laptop at home and spend a week in his hometown with you. Of course, he didn’t even think twice about being all alone with you for a week, but it was a little hard to convince him to leave his laptop.

You two rented a small private beach house, as you’ve been begging to go to the beach for a while, away from prying eyes and any stray swimmers. It was day two, and Chan spent the first day showing you around all his favorite places. The first day was really fun, Chan told you so many stories about his childhood and you met his family as well. His mother was very sweet and his dad was really welcoming, and you got to see where Chan got his cooking from.

What you didn’t know was that by day two, all Chan wanted to do was be inside of you.

You were currently spread out on your back, feet facing the headboard and head facing the large glass doors that lead to the balcony, with a large view of the beach. Chan was on top of you, one leg over his shoulder and his hand pressing down on your lower abdomen as he fucked you deep and slow. You had already cum twice, but Chan showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

“Come on baby, you wanted to see the beach, so look at it…” He panted, grabbing your chin with his other hand and pushing your head back to hang off the edge of the bed, and you were now looking out at the beach, just upside down.

His eyes flicked back down between you, watching himself slide in and out of your sopping cunt. You were letting out pathetic moans, gasping as your body shuttered against him, back arching off the bed.

He slipped a thumb between your lips, leaning closer and grunting as he thrust deeper and deeper, hitting that perfect spot, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your moaned around his finger. He smeared your saliva across your cheek, chuckling lowly at how fucked out you looked.

His hand trailed down a bit, wrapping around your throat and applying pressure, just enough to make you feel dizzy with pleasure.

“fffffuck…you’re so wet…” He groaned, slowing down and grinding deeper, dirtier.

You whined, the pleasure running through your whole body all at once.

“I should just keep you in here all week…shit…be inside you this whole fuckin’ vacation…” He whispered, kissing the valley between your breasts, pulling a moan from your throat.

“Please~” You managed to whimper.

”Yeah? Is that what you want baby?” He asked, picking up the pace of his thrusts.

You nodded to the best of your ability, just letting out pathetic whimpers.

“Tell me what you want…” He demanded, but you couldn’t speak, you felt like you were gonna explode.

But he wasn’t having any of that, so he slowed down.

You practically screamed, whining like you were about to cry.

He leaned over your body, bringing his face close to yours to rasp in your ear. “You know the rules.”

“F-fuck me…every damn day of this vacation…” You whimpered.

“Yeah?” He smirked.

“Yes! Please baby…please I need it… I missed you so fucking much…” You cry out, trailing a hand down his abs.

“mmmyeah…I missed you too baby…now take everything I give you…” He kissed your forehead before practically plowing you through the mattress.

“Fuck~!” You moaned as he drilled into your dripping cunt, filling the room with the sound of slapping skin and porno level moans.

“Ooooh fuck…you don’t know what you do to me. You have no fucking idea.” Chan panted, sweat beading across his forehead.

You moaned like it hurt, hands gripping his shoulders, nails digging in and dragging across his back hard enough to draw blood, but he loved it. He loved the fact that you felt just as much pleasure as he did, that you were just as addicted. You were all his, and he was all yours.

“Fuck…I’m so close- fuck, please~!” You cried, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as the pleasure built higher and higher, but there was something else you felt, deep in your abdomen.

“I got you baby, come on…fucking give it to me.” He growled, grabbing your face as your moans reached higher and higher.

“Shit- Chan I feel like I’m gonna-!” You started, but Chan didn’t let you finish.

“It’s okay baby, let go, come on…” He grunted, hips starting to stutter as he thrusted harder and faster, making your vision whiten at the edges.

“Fuck-!” You cried out before feeling something burst, your legs shaking violently as you screamed out in pleasure. You came many many times with Chan, and even more so in your life in general, but something was different this time. It was longer, and it felt even more intense, pulling loud, choked moans out of your throat.

Chan gripped your hip hard enough to bruise as his thrusts stuttered once more, his cock spilling into your cunt as his let out a deep moan, voice cracking through the end of it.

“Fuck baby…” He said breathlessly, slowing to a stop and releasing your face.

You were boneless, your muscles rendered utterly useless as you caught your breath for a second.

You finally found the strength to look up, planting your elbows on the bed and looking between you both.

“Oh shit.” You both were soaked. The sheets were completely soiled, and you were laying in a puddle of your own juices. Both of your bodies were shiny with wetness, dripping where your bodies connected.

Chan smiled like he won the lottery. “Never made you do that before…” He licked his lips.

“Did I squirt?” You asked.

Chan chuckled at your innocence. “Yeah baby, you did, and it was so fucking hot.” He knew exactly what to say to make sure any embarrassment wasn’t felt.

You smiled. “I’ve never done that before…like, ever.” You said shyly.

“Yeah? Well did you like it?” He asked, smiling in awe as he ran his hands up and down the sides of your waist.

“Yeah…I liked it a lot.” You blushed.

“Well then good thing we have this entire vacation to make sure you do that as much as you want.” He smirked, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him. “Round four in a minute?” You ask.

“Give me five, then we’ll go all damn night.”

~~~~~

SHESSS BACKKKK

I’m on a writing spree and I’ll try to upload some more.

Currently manic, life is great, I’m a young ho, and I’m a horny demon.

[teaxtease]

₊˚.༄ ATEEZ bf texts ft. WOOYOUNG

note: two posts in the same day and not months apart? that’s new for me. but san’s post did so well that i wanted to share a wooyo version. reqs open!

warnings: 6/7 slides are suggestive (sorry), disgustingly in love, fwb and crying mentioned, ‘kms’ joke, cursing…

other versions: seonghwa | yunho | san | mingi

[91dreams91things]

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

WIP's

No Fear (Dive In) your brothers best friend finds out you've been self harming and makes it his mission to take you under his wing and help you

Adrenaline hard of hearing and surviving a supernatural apocalypse, you meet a vampire unlike any you've ever encountered

if you're too shy, let me know seonghwa has been stalking your instagram every night for months, and finally brings his fantasies to life

Housebroken: A Puppy's Place Sequel well behaved puppies get special treatment. or — mingi has something special planned now that he's shaped you into the perfect, docile, sweet little puppy

body count wooyoung and yeonjun will make sure that the recent murders don't frighten you... too badly

hard hours 018: ftm yeosang x mtf seonghwa x fem reader

Tonight, Tonight hongjoong raises you from the dead, unable to let you go

what are you most excited for ?

[channlust]

࿐ I wanna get freaky on camera! (MDNI!)

The camera flicked on with a soft click, the ring light warming up to cast its glow across the bed. Chan adjusted the angle with one hand. he had you on his lap, his thumb swiping over the screen of his phone where the livestream preview played. His other hand rested casually on your thigh, "You ready? Last chance to bail."

You could already see the chat scrolling on his monitor, usernames and emojis blurring together, but his focus stayed on you, waiting. The heat of his palm against your leg was steadying, somehow, even as your pulse jumped at the thought of what came next. "I’m ready," you said, quieter than you meant to, and Chan’s grin sharpened.

"Atta girl," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before his thumb tapped the 'live' button, and the stream interface blinked red— a silent confirmation that thousands had just flooded in.

His voice dropped into that low, performative rasp you knew so well, the one that made chat lose their minds.

"Alright, degenerates, we've got something special tonight," he said, fingertips skating up your thigh as the camera panned to frame your body, just the curve of your waist, the dip of your hips, nothing identifiable. "Our lovely guest agreed to help me demonstrate a little…technique."

You flinched when his palm pressed flat against your stomach, holding you still. "Relax," he murmured, just for you, before raising his voice for the audience.

"See how tense she is? That's normal. First time jitters, right, kitten?" His other hand ghosted up your inner thigh, teasing, "Gonna take it slow, pay attention."

comments and donations pinged.

squirtlord: bro shes so pretty wtf

lixonfire: chan u lucky bastard

Chan laughed, breath warm against your ear as he leaned in to read them aloud. "They're obsessed with you already," he whispered, nipping your lobe before addressing the stream again.

"Alright, number one: how to tell she's ready." His fingers trailed lower, feather light, tracing patterns that made your breath hitch. "See how she’s arching into my hand? That’s your green light. don't rush — unless she asks for it."

You gasped when his thumb circled where you were hottest, the fabric of your underwear still frustratingly in place. "Chan—" His name slipped out before you could stop it, and the chat lost it entirely, hearts and dollar signs flooding the screen.

"Yeah? ," he coaxed, dragging his knuckles against you just hard enough to make your hips jerk.

His fingers curled under the edge of your underwear, not pulling them aside yet— just teasing the promise of it, letting the tension coil tighter in your stomach.

cumdump404: chan pls tell her she’s perfect*.

“See that?” His thumb stroked slow circles just above where you ached. “They’re begging for you.”

You whimpered when he finally hooked a finger under the fabric, dragging it to the side slowly. The cool air of the room hit your skin, making you shiver — or maybe that was the way his breath hitched when he got his first proper look.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, low, “That’s what you want to see before you even think about touching.”

he dragged the pad of his thumb through the slick heat between your thighs. "shit," he muttered, more to himself than the stream, before angling his wrist to give the camera a better view. The wet glide of his skin against yours was obscenely loud in the quiet room, punctuated only by the occasional ping of another donation notification.

You bit down hard on your lip, hips twitching when his fingertip circled your entrance without pushing in. You could see the corner of his mouth tilt up as he watched you squirm. "Patience, kitten," he chided, though his own breathing wasn’t entirely steady.

"Gotta make sure you're fully ready f'me," he said, dragging his finger down to collect more wetness before bringing it back up to swirl around your clit.

His fingertips trailed back down, skirting your heat deliberately, and you whimpered when he paused just shy of touching you properly. “Chat, tell me — how many of you would’ve just shoved two fingers in by now?”

jinnieinabottle: guilty

quokktoobig: BOOOO

Chan shook his head, clicking his tongue. “Amateurs. Watch.” His index finger finally dipped between your folds, dragging through slickness in one slow, filthy stroke.

Your breath hitched when his fingertip finally pressed inside— just the tip, just enough to make your hips jerk forward instinctively. "Easy," Chan murmured, his free hand splayed across your stomach to hold you still. The stretch burned sweetly, his finger working in achingly slow increments. "See how she’s taking me?" He angled his wrist to give the camera a better view, the wet shine of your arousal glistening under the ring light. "Tight, but not tense. That’s the difference."

Chan's finger curled inside you experimentally, the pad of it dragging against your walls with a practiced laziness that made your toes curl. Then— there. The sudden pressure against that one spot sent a jolt up your spine, your back arching off his lap and an embarrassingly loud moan spilled from your lips.

His grin was instant, sharp with triumph even as his voice dropped into that faux sympathetic tone "Oh? Was that it?" he teased, circling the spot again just to watch your thighs tremble. "You can say it, baby. We’re all friends here."

"Y-yes," you gasped, the word fracturing as Chan's finger crooked inside you again, relentless in its precision.

Chan only hummed, low and approving, his breath warm against your ear. "Good girl," he murmured, the praise curling around you like smoke. "Now tell them where." His fingertip pressed harder, deliberate, and your hips stuttered against his hand. "Right—right there, fuck—"

The stream's audio picked up your sharp inhale as Chan crooked his finger just right again, “Watch the angle,” Chan instructed to the stream twisting his wrist to demonstrate. “You’re not finger fucking a thanksgiving turkey.”

His free hand slid up to palm your breast through your shirt, thumb rolling over your nipple. “And always, always keep the rest of her involved.”

slave4u: me next me next

quokktoobig: bro she’s literally shaking

The stretch burned brighter when his second finger pressed alongside the first, his palm tilting to ease the way. You gasped, fingers twisting in the sheets, but Chan’s free hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together as he squeezed reassurance. "Breathe," he murmured, just for you, before shifting back into instructor mode for the stream.

"See how she’s opening up for me? That’s the rhythm you want— press in on her exhale." His fingers retreated slightly, then pushed back in deeper, the drag of his knuckles against your walls drawing a shaky moan from your throat.

"thereee you go," he praised, thumb circling your clit, the dual stimulation had your hips rocking helplessly, but his grip on your hand tightened, holding you still. "None of that," he chided, though his voice was warm with amusement. "Let me do the work. yea?" His fingers curled again.

"That’s the motion— come here, chat, look close." He angled the camera down, his fingers glistening as they moved inside you.

“You wanna speed up?” he asked you, and the sincerity in his voice— like he’d stop if you said no. he would.

"yes— hnnng —please don't stop," you managed, the words catching in your throat as his fingers twisted deeper. He turned back to the camera. "Hear that, chat? Consent is always sexy." His fingers sped up,

Another donation alert chimed

lixonfire: TELL HER SHE'S PRETTY WHEN SHE CUMS

Chan laughed breathlessly. "Oh, she knows," he said, but his thumb rolled over your clit with renewed focus, The coil in your stomach tightened, your muscles fluttering around his fingers, and his breath hitched. "There it is," he breathed, "That's it, let go. I've got you."

and it's like you came on command, your back arching off his chest as pleasure crackled through your nerves.

Chan's fingers slowed, gentling you through it, his praise a warm murmur under the chaos of the chat. "Fuck, look at her," he told the stream, his voice rough with awe. "wait for her to ride it out, don't be greedy" His fingers slowed before stilling completely and slipping out of you with a soft, obscene sound, and you shuddered, oversensitive and boneless against him.

You twitched when his fingertips brushed your knee, oversensitive and still thrumming. Chan noticed, and his smirk softened into something warmer. "You good?" he murmured, leaning in close enough that his breath ghosted over your ear. The question was private, just for you, but the microphone caught it anyway,

cumdump404: i think he's in love with her

You nodded, swallowing hard, and Chan’s grin turned wicked again as he straightened. "She says she’s good," he announced to the stream, winking at the camera.

"And that," Chan announced, dragging his damp fingers across your thigh one last time for the camera's benefit, "is today's lesson." he pulled your now soaked panties back on you and gave it a little pat.

"Say goodbye, chat. Our star needs a break." His palm settled warm against your stomach as he nudged you gently. "Wave bye, kitten."

You lifted a trembling hand toward the camera, fingers fluttering in a weak approximation of a wave.

slave4u: pls bring her back next stream

jinnieinabottle: bye angel

quokktoobig: I just came so hard rn

lixonfire: holy shit that was so hot

Chan's laugh was low and pleased as he leaned into frame, his free hand adjusting the camera angle to capture the both of you— his face, smug and satisfied, and your body still loose limbed with pleasure. "Next time, maybe we'll teach you how to make her beg," he mused, winking at the lens before tapping the screen to end the stream.

a/n: I wanna make a long fic ab this...

taglist: @yourqueenlady @kloversung @hycnsung @seagulljk @g0matchi @eyyyylucieeee @zosauce @minniebitesfr @jazz7gnab @stormynight-240 @ariaaleelynn @pedropacals0l0s @caalcyon @hyunjinswife4ever @11racha @starlostjisung @straykitten88 @mandmilovehim @hanjinology @breakmeonce @carrotcakeesblog @supernaturalsunny @gwinamlvr @parkairis18 @g0obz @tumvlrgirlsblog @atetheluck @ivyonsaturn @shortcake-whoops @mylovchris @avchannie @emeraldgem22 @pinkyrec @yourtypicalnerd @skzhyunjinwifey @stryscribbles @jektaev @cb9711 @lostinmymind-daydreaming @b4echo @viisstrayy @binniebb @angellixmar @gnablana

[chandora]

mdni 18+ — do not be self deprecating around chan

“fuck— just like that. say you’re sorry.”

chan’s hips have been snapping against yours for the latter half of the hour tonight. really, you shouldn’t have done what you did. it was a quick, off handed, self deprecating remark about yourself, and just like that, chan had enough.

he was already feeling on edge from the studio. and now he felt like he failed you to not reassure you enough. that’s how you got yourself here.

you can’t apologize. not because you’re being a brat or doing anything on purpose, but rather because chan has you laid prone on your stomach as his hips feverishly snap against your ass. making it quite literally impossible to reply outside of breathy moans being punched from your lungs. repeated motions that have had you crying into the pillow your face is sunken into.

“c’mon baby, you can do it… say “i’m sorry channie”… f-fuckin’ hell!”

chan’s body slowly comes down onto yours, his chest flush against your back as his arms ensnare around your shoulder. his head drops to the back of yours, his voice a low rasp of heavy breathing. his hips slow to grind against the plush of your ass, rocking and rutting into the wetness of your arousal. his panting turns into a low growl at your refusal.

“pretty girl… sweet baby, say it. say it and i’ll make you cum so good.”

meanwhile, you’re just a mess under him. head turned slightly as his bicep wraps under your chin, hands clawing at his strong arms. eyes bleary and wet with tears from how good it feels every time he quickly bottoms out and fills you so right. the sounds are obscene, salacious squelches as he drags every drop out of you. and you’ll do just the same to him if you keep fluttering around him like that.

“‘m s-sorry, cha— haah— channie! it feels so good, so good, please don’t stop!”

chan smiles to himself as he drags out a moan from his chest, laughing in a way that pinches off at the end in a high whine. his brows furrow and eyes close, slowing his movement down to fuck himself deeper.

“that wasn’t so h-hard now, was it, pretty thing…?” chan’s tongue swipes over his bottom lip to catch himself from drooling down your back. his hands pin your lower back down to the bed, forcing a nasty arch that makes you sob in equal parts relief and overstimulation.

“who’s my good girl, yeah? is that you? am i fucking my good girl stupid right now? huh? m-my beautiful good girl…”

chan’s sentences are punctuated with deep strokes, feeling his pelvis thrust and rock against you in languid motions. his words are overwhelming but that’s what he wants. you were just being so mean to the woman he loves, which is you.

“are you going to keep fighting with yourself or let me fuck you good, gorgeous?” chan heaves out, his chest pressing against your shoulder blades as he kisses into your hair. he ducks his head to lick a stripe up your spine to your neck, and chuckles a moan when he feels how squirmy and whiny you get. your moans are almost sobs from how his plush mushroom tip is kissing against that sensitive spot inside.

“sweetheart,” he drawls out, almost in a singsong voice. “you’re so… very precious… perfect girl, yeah? thank you f-for— fuck— sharing this perfect body.”

those deep strokes are reciprocated with your pussy squeezing him so tight chan swears he might be able to taste the stars. and because chan knows how to elevate your orgasm…

“sh-shit baby, breathe… breathe, just breathe, let it happen babygirl—”

a few inhales and exhales, and chan is wrapping that bicep around to grab your face. he loves that teary look in your eyes, like it feels too good to do anything but cry. your pussy is clenching on him like a vice, the sweet slapping and mixing of fluids…

he can’t help it, chan brings his lips hovering over yours, whispering, “i love you, sweetheart… cum for me.”

there’s a ringing in your ears when it happens, the churning of the knot builds so quick, you don’t even have time to think. chan’s groan bleeds into a whimper the second he feels your tight cunt shudder with shocks, milking him and causing his own release. the hiccuped sobs of moans you release have him praying the walls are thick enough to hide from neighbors. chan wants them all to himself.

he presses as deep as he can to flood you with hot cum, kissing all over your face from tears. your skin is tacky with sweat and stunning in the afterglow. chan runs his hands over your sweat slicked forehead, pushing back anything still sticking to you.

“don’t ever say that stuff again, baby… yeah…? you did such a good job, sweetheart… such a perfect and sweet girl…”

chan smacks a kiss to your temple, laying his weight down on your back. your eyes are already drooping from contentedness while he traces patterns onto your hip. his initials. little hearts. swirls that never end.

“i’m here to protect you from all of that… always.”

—

author's note: well… this is unexpected! thank you for 900 followers i love you guys so much :’) final exams are biting my ass right now

[littlexbunni]

‎‧₊˚✧ bf!ateez texts ✧˚₊‧

“you up?”

warnings: suggestive themes, atomically correct names for parts mentioned one (1) time, let me know if I missed anything

note: I took a break from socials so that’s why I was gone for a couple months 😓 I’ll be clearing out my drafts and posting that stuff so it doesn’t just sit in there 😂

[midnight0sun]

Their kid cries when they leave: Chan

dad!Bangchan x wife!reader

Word count: 904

Summary: They have to leave when their kid starts crying, not wanting them to go — Channie edition

Content: fluff!

A/N: Part 1 of a lil ot8 series. Sorry I disappeared for a second but now that finals are over, hopefully I can cook up some more stuff. Got a big one I'm almost finished with 😈

Masterlist

~~~~

Your daughter is eating her breakfast when Chan comes out from the bedroom. 

“Good morning, princess.” He kisses her on the head. “Good morning, love.” He kisses you on the cheek. He grabs some lunch you pre-packed him and puts it in his backpack. As he moves around packing his things for work, your daughter watches him like it’s the most interesting thing she has seen. 

“Eomma! All done!” Yuna throws her banana covered hands up for you to come take her out of the high chair. 

Grabbing a wet wipe, you walk over and clean her hands and face before settling her on your hip. She whines as you wipe her face, unaware that you are trying to help her and not smother her. Chan comes over and takes her out of your arms, “Looks like you missed a spot.” He places a big kiss on Yuna’s cheek where a stray piece of banana sits, eliciting a laugh from her.

“Did you pack everything you need?” You ask Chan who is lightly throwing Yuna in the air. 

“She’s flying!” He coo’s, earning a satisfied laugh from Yuna. 

You shake your head, knowing he is too caught up with her to hear you right now. You let him be and double check his work bag yourself. Rummaging through his backpack, you make sure he has extra food, snacks, water, liquid IV, charger, laptop, and all of the things he always seems to forget. Zipping up his bag you walk over to where he is now dancing around in a circle, rocking Yuna side to side on his hip. 

“Alright, dance party is over,” you say, holding out Chan’s bag to him. 

“Five more minutes,” he says, eyes locked on your daughter.

“You’re gonna be late to work.” 

He sighs, stopping his dancing. He looks at Yuna with a pout, “Eomma is no fun.” 

You roll your eyes, “You could quit your job.” 

His eyes snap to you, “absolutely not.” 

“Mhm, that’s what I thought. Now go before you are late and I get flooded with messages from the boys.” 

He slings his backpack over his free shoulder as you reach for Yuna. As soon as you try to take her out of his arms, she starts wailing. Her tiny fists clutch onto his shirt sleeve. “Appa! No!”

“Come on, baby. Appa’s gotta go to work.” You try to pry her away from Chan, but her tiny grip won’t let go. Her face goes red as she cries with all her might. Chans heart immediately breaks at the sight of his daughter so upset. 

“Oh princess,” He takes her out of your hands and pulls her back against his chest. Almost immediately she calms down, her head resting in the crook of Chans neck. “It’s okay baby.” He coo’s, gently rubbing her back. 

You let him hold her for a minute before checking the time with a sigh, “Chan, you can’t hold her forever. You have to go to work soon.” 

“I know.” His voice is a little broken, “Let me hold her just a second longer please.” 

You listen, knowing it breaks his heart every time she is upset. Once she has finally calmed down, he kisses the top of her head and whispers, “Appa has to go to work now. But I’ll be back before you know it. Can you go with Eomma?” You reach your hands out for her but she shakes her head no. “It’ll be okay. I promise” Chan gently hands her over to you and she immediately starts fighting back. You manage to actually get her out of Chan’s hold, but she is fighting hard against you. 

“It’s okay baby. He’ll be back so soon.” You try soothing her but she just wails and reaches for Chan. He stands there for a moment, looking utterly broken at the sight of his baby girl crying for him. You give him a reassuring smile, “She’ll be fine. I promise. The sooner you go, the sooner you can come back.” 

He nods, swallowing down the urge to just stay home for the day with her. He steps forward and kisses Yuna on the head, making sure not to let her grab hold of him. 

“Appa!” She wails, trying to squirm out of your hold. 

“Appa will be back soon, okay princess. Be good for Eomma.” He turns and places a quick kiss on your lips. “Sorry I have to leave you like this.” 

You peck his cheek with a soft smile, “We’ll be fine. She’ll find a toy in 5 minutes and forget all about it.” 

He laughs, “Good. Glad I can be replaced by a toy car.” 

You roll your eyes, “You know that’s not what I mean.” 

“I know.” He takes one last look at his sobbing daughter and turns to leave before he can think any better of it. He closes the door, leaving behind a very upset Yuna and that shatters his heart into pieces. As soon as he gets to the studio he gets a message from you. 

Turns out you are replaced by a teddy bear, not a toy car. 

Attached is a picture of Yuna, content on the living room floor with a teddy bear almost as big as her. Chan smiles knowing his baby girl is happy again, but he will definitely be finishing work early to return to her as soon as possible. 

[91dreams91things]

This is fine.

[yunhosash]

🥰

[notseospicy]

marry me.

Lee Know x reader. (f) SFW

Synopsis: It starts as joke and have been running between you and Minho for a while — until it isn’t anymore. (2,4k words)

It starts as a joke.

The first time you say it is when he cooks dinner.

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, chin in your hands, watching him move around and looking annoyingly good doing something as mundane as stirring a pan. His focused, dark brown eyes. The strands of hair falling over his forehead. The sharpness of his jaws. The slope of his nose.

He wipes his hands on a cloth when he’s done. Then slides a plate toward you.

“Eat before it gets cold,” he says without the slightest of zest.

“Thank you, my beautiful, private chef,” you teasingly say.

You pick up the fork, taking a piece of the pan seared salmon and shove it into your mouth. It tastes exactly as it looks. As you expected.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, eyes widen dramatically.

He rolls his eyes immediately. “What.”

“This is amazing,” you gasp, clutching your chest like you’ve just been emotionally wounded by good food.

The compliment doesn’t seem to faze him much as he continues eating his own dinner. Yet he looks just as attractive when he’s eating.

You put your hands under your chin, tilting your head slightly to the side as you dreamily sigh, “You’re hot and good at cooking…”

He only looks at you, unimpressed. And yet, his indifference is the biggest part of his charm.

You lean forward and sweetly say, “Please, marry me.”

He doesn’t even look up from his own plate of dinner. “No.”

Your lips curl into a pout. “No?”

“I already cooked for you. That’s more than enough commitment,” he simply answers and ever so casually, taking a sip of water.

The answer comes out so smoothly, so unexpectedly but at the same time, it’s so Minho. You burst out laughing, completely amused. And ever since, you can’t help but teasing him with the same joke, anticipating what his answer will be.

-

A week later he comes home with a fresh haircut.

You’re on the couch scrolling through your phone when he walks in, casually kicking off his shoes like he didn’t just drastically increase the apartment’s attractiveness level.

It amazes you how Minho losing a few inches of hair makes you stare and feel warm all over.

He notices as he walks to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. “What?”

“You look hot,” you say, biting your lower lip like it would help supress the dirty thoughts forming in your head. “Like… illegally hot.”

“It’s just a haircut,” he says, matter-of-factly.

You wait until he’s sitting on the sofa with you, scooting closer until you’re right there next to him and stare at him all over again with heart in your eyes.

“Gosh, I have the hottest man in the world as my boyfriend,” you sigh, a finger playfully tracing the prominent vein on his arm.

As usual, Minho is unfazed. He’s on his phone, typing on the screen with so much focus. You lean in closer, close enough to place light, little kisses along the side of his jaw and then a final one on the skin behind his ear, catching the hint of his perfume there.

“I’d destroy the world if you married someone else,” you feign seriousness as you whisper into his ear. “So please… marry me.”

That gets him turning his head toward you and stares at you for a long second. Then he shrugs and says, “Sounds like a you problem.”

With that, he turns his focus back on his phone, ignoring the way you pout and glare at him from the side.

But after a while, you smile as you soften around him again. You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging to him despite him rejecting your playful proposal for the second time.

-

One evening you’re both sprawled on the couch. Minho is lying on his back with a cushion propped under his head and you — you lay on top of him with his muscular chest as your pillow, your legs are tangled with his. His arm wrapped around your back, fingers absentmindedly playing with the end of your hair.

Even doing something mundane like this — just watching a movie, cuddling on the sofa in a contented silence — feels special with him. It really is not about what you’re doing but who you’re doing it with.

You glance up at him and find him so focused on the TV, looking comfortable and warm and frustratingly boyfriend-shaped.

You sigh contentedly and softly call his name, “Minho.”

“Hm.”

“Please marry me.”

He doesn’t even look away from the screen. His tone flat and uninterested as he asks, “Why should I?”

You subtly shrug and say, “So we can do what married people do.”

One hand glides down to the base of your spine, threading his fingers there. He turns his head slightly. “Like what?”

You think about it seriously for a moment, humming in solemn. “We can open joint bank accounts.”

“Terrible idea.”

“Getting a mortgage.”

“Even worse.”

“Buying matching coffins.”

He finally turns fully toward you. “What?”

“So when we die we can be buried next to each other,” you explain matter-of-factly.

He stares at you like he’s reconsidering every life choice that led him here. “You skipped a lot of steps.”

You coyly shrug and grin.

“I’d prefer to be cremated though,” he says, putting both hands on your back now.

“Oh?” You softly gasp, slightly surprised. Then, a second later—

“Oh!” you gasp again, the kind that comes with an idea. A strange, weird idea. “We can have our ashes pressed into diamonds and inherit it to our future children.”

Minho’s lips quirk into a half smirk. “That’s actually a good idea,” he agrees.

You beam and snuggle closer, feeling proud of yourself. You burrow your head into the crook of his neck and softly whisper, “So let’s get married, yeah?”

He pats your head like you’re an overly affectionate cat. “No.”

The proposal isn’t that serious but your head lifts anyway when he rejects you for the third time. “No?”

This time, he looks at you when he says it again. “No.”

“Why not?”

He holds your face with both hands like you’re a fragile object but the answer he gives you is nothing like it. “Cause you’re getting harder to tolerate,” he flatly replies.

Instead of feeling offended, you crack a laugh and bump your nose with his. “I hate you,” you say, affectionately.

“See? Hard to tolerate,” he says, smirking.

But with each rejection, you find yourself falling harder for him. And a tiniest bit of hope that he’ll marry you. For real.

-

The joke continues.

Every time he does something nice.

When he brings you coffee.

“Please marry me.”

When he fixes the loose cabinet door you’ve been ignoring for months.

“Please marry me.”

When he wordlessly hands you a blanket because he noticed you were cold.

“Please marry me.”

His responses are always the same level of unimpressed.

“Unlikely.”

“No thanks.”

“Absolutely not.”

Or his personal favorite:

“I’m not in the mood.”

Even when you’re already tucked in bed, drowsy and tired, ready to sleep. You look at Minho who’s peacefully lying beside you with eyes closed. You lean in to his ear, whisper while half asleep.

“Please marry me, Minho.”

Minho’s eyes snap open and slowly, he turns his head toward you. He gives you a look of disbelief. Then he runs his fingers down your face to force you to close your eyes.

“Go to sleep.”

“But—”

This time, he cuts you off with by pressing a sudden, hard kiss on your lips. When he pulls away, he mutters, “Your proposal has been postponed.”

And you can’t really complaint when he shut you up like that. So instead, you snug closer to him and try to sleep. At the same, you’re already planning on proposing again tomorrow.

-

Weeks pass.

The joke never really stops. It just becomes part of your routine now.

As Minho is busy preparing dinner in the kitchen, you hug him from behind. You wrap your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder and feeling comforted already by the mere feel of his body against you.

Minho continues cutting ingredients like this is just another Sunday afternoon. The sounds of his knife hitting the cutting board are the only thing filling the silence. Until—

 “Please marry me,” you say, voice a little muffled as your mouth pressed to his neck.

Minho sighs but continues cutting the carrot now. “You’ve proposed to me twelve times today.”

You grin and teasingly say, “So?”

He turns his head, looking at you like he’s both impressed and bewildered that you haven’t given up already.

You don’t waver. Instead, you feel encouraged. “Statistically one of them will work eventually,” you confidently say.

He smirks and simply says, “Good luck with that.”

-

One night you come home exhausted. Work had been long and irritating and your brain feels like it’s running on fumes. When you open the apartment door, the smell of food greets you immediately.

Minho stands in the kitchen, the sleeves of his dark sweater rolled up to his elbows, putting too much focus on plating dinner.

Just the sight of him is enough to make the weight of the day vanishes into thin air. “I’m home,” you weakly announce.

“You’re late,” he says without looking up.

You walk up to him, giving him a quick hug while letting out a sigh. Like you’re trying to exhale all the heavy, worried minds out of your head. When you pull away, you offer him a small smile.

“I’m just going to put my bag away and wash up,” you say.

He seems to notice that you’re more exhausted than usual. He gives you a quick kiss on the lips before letting you go.

When you return, he’s already set everything on the dining table and now, filling your glass with red wine. You take your seat, stomach grumbling at the mouth-watering smell of the food in front of you.

It’s when Minho takes his seat, you finally allow yourself to start eating. It feels good to come home to the man you love and eat the food he cooked. You couldn’t be luckier than this.

“Good?” he asks.

You have to stop yourself from shoving more food to properly answer him. “So good,” you say with stuffed cheeks.

He smiles at that, warm and affectionate, before getting back to his own plate of dinner.

At the end of the dinner, you feel so content. Literally. Figuratively. You have a small sip of wine before leaning in to the side until your shoulder meets his and stay there.

You tilt your head, meeting his eyes. “Thank you for dinner,” you genuinely mutter.

Minho puts an arm around your shoulder. “Glad you enjoyed it,” he says, followed with a quick kiss to the top of your head.

You have another sip of wine and feeling playful when you look at him again. Then you hesitantly ask, “Marry me?”

For once, he doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looks back at you. He studies your face for a moment. Then, finally answers, “Okay.”

Wow! That’s a first.

But you know him too well to know that he’s only saying that as a joke, to boost your ego. Or lighten up your mood after a long, tiring day.

“You’re not supposed to say yes. You’re supposed to reject me,” you tell him, half-laughing.

He tilts his head slightly and blinks his eyes a few times. “Well, I changed my mind.”

You can’t tell if he’s being serious now or just messing with you. You nervously laugh and decide to entertain the idea. “Okay, let’s go to the city hall tomorrow and get a marriage certificate.”

“Okay,” he repeats.

Your heart starts beating faster. “You’re joking, right?” you carefully ask.

“I’m not,” his voice is calm. Serious.

Your stomach flips. “Minho…”

The arm around your shoulder feels warm and steady. He looks you in the eyes as he says, “I though you always wanted me to say yes.”

Your brain struggles to catch up. “Wait, are you actually—”

“Yes.”

You sigh, a part of you still struggling to believe this. “Minho, I need to know if you’re serious.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why would I joke about that.”

You stare at him, completely stunned. “But I thought—”

“That it was just a joke?” he finishes.

You nod weakly.

He nonchalantly shrugs. “It started that way. But I thought about it.”

“And?” you whisper.

He looks at you like the answer is obvious. “And I decided I wouldn’t mind doing those things with you.”

Your voice comes out small. “Even the cremated part?”

He sighs like he’s fed up of you doubting his proposal. “If that’s what you want.”

A shaky laugh escapes you, half disbelief and half overwhelming emotion. “You’re really proposing right now?”

“You’re the one who proposed first.”

“That was a joke!”

“And this isn’t.”

The room feels very quiet suddenly. Despite the confusion, the suddenness of this moment, and the fact that it hasn’t sunk into you… your eyes start to sting.

“You’re serious…” you mutter to yourself while laughing in disbelief.

He gently squeezes your shoulder. “Do you want me to ask properly?”

You nod quickly.

He takes a small breath. Then, in the most Minho way possible, he says, “Do you want to marry me so we can open a joint bank account, get a mortgage and have our cremated ashes turn into diamonds?”

You burst into tearful laughter. “Yes. A thousand time yes,” you say immediately.

He nods once, satisfied. “Okay.”

With that, he pulls you into his arms like this was the most normal conversation in the world. That this is not him finally asking you to marry him and said yes to marrying you.

You cling to him, still laughing in disbelief. “Told you, one of them will work eventually,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“I know.”

You tilt your head up, looking at him in love and disbelief that you’ll have your forever with him. “Marry me, Minho,” you softly murmur it’s almost a whisper.

He leans in and places a chaste kiss on your lips. when he pulls away just enough to look at you, he smiles and says, “Already working on it.”

-

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