𑣲lovergirl

life's too short, sexualize that boy today .ᐟ

[hosungie]

hellooo small intro for pin .ᐟ | masterlist | taglist

৻ꪆ im 20 and a full time student

৻ꪆ bts ult / yoongi ult

৻ꪆ writing for both bts ⁷ & skz ⁸ in a gn perspective

⤷ may include ships / duos + but will always tag accordingly

৻ꪆ always taking suggestions / asks .ᐟ

this is your nsfw warning, i have a love for these boys that cannot be sated while remaining safe for work ( • ᴗ < )

[hosungie]

𑣲like a novel pt. 1

w/ bangchan, changbin, jisung & felix.

skz as my some of my favourite tropes !

note; non idol au for all, decided to split the post in two so it isn't super long ehe

bang chan | making movies, not love! (actor x actor)

“if you’d just fucking listen to me, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” you shriek, shoving your finger into chris’s face. he slaps your hand away, grabbing onto the closest glass with his other hand. the prop goes hurdling towards the wall next to your head, smashing into thousands of tiny sugar glass pieces. 

“you don’t know what i sacrifice every day for this house, for you!” he screams back, taking a stride into your space, crowding close. 

you know what you have to do next, but chris is too close. regardless, a slap cracks through the set, followed by angered, heavy footsteps as you storm off around the wall, leading to a different scene set. 

“cut!” the director calls, “everyone take fifteen and come back ready for page 82 to 96.”

as soon as the director calls out, you rush back around from behind the wall, cradling chris’s face between your hands. there’s a radiating heat beneath your left hand from his right cheek where you slapped him moments ago. it was meant to be a fake slap but he was closer than when you two rehearsed, “christ, chris, i am so sorry,” you thumb over the sensitive skin, “you were closer than i expected, i didn’t have time to adjust!” 

his hands come up to rest over yours, “i’m okay, nothing i haven’t felt before from you,” he winks, causing you to shove him backwards, cheeks squishing under your hands. 

“weirdo,” you huff as your lips break into a smile. you lean over, catching his lips in a kiss, “i am sorry though, you looked so shocked, i almost broke character.” 

he pecks your cheek, “i’m glad you didn’t, that was fucking sick! it really tied the scene together,” he grabs onto your hand, leading you to the nearest exit, “remind me again, love, why are we fighting?” 

you swing your connected hands as you climb the small stairs of chris’s, thankfully air conditioned, trailer, “you work too much, i’m alone all the time and you think i’m cheating on you, obviously.” 

chris laughs as he grabs a drink from his fridge, tossing you one. you catch the drink, uncapping it and downing half in one go. a few minutes go by as you’re chatting before someone knocks on the door, “mr. chris, have you seen-” you recognize the voice to be of his managers assistant, a sweet girl named stella. 

“i’m here, too, stella!” you call. 

“oh, amazing! you’re both due in three minutes.” you hear her footsteps fade as you grab onto chris’s wrist, pulling him back towards you. 

“it only takes two to get back to set,” you crash your lips into his, stealing the breath from his lungs. his hands meet your hips, pulling you flush against him before you lean back. chris’s eyes are full of adoration, loving the spontaneous mini-makeouts the two of you hide in his trailer. you lean back in as he meets you halfway, sliding a hand up your back as yours meets the curls at the base of his neck. thankfully, this role allowed him to leave his hair be, let it stay natural, with a little help from the makeup crew that enhanced his pretty australian curls. 

you tug his head back, “c’mon, lets go back to hating each other, lover boy.” 

if chris followed you back from his trailer like a love-sick puppy, wagging his imaginary tail behind him, no one noticed, or dared to verbalize it. 

seo changbin | six years later (childhood best friends, reunited)

it had been six years since you moved away from your hometown. you decided one day after graduating with your degree that it was time for a change, you picked up your life and moved to many different places, travelling while working remotely. 

now, it was time to go back home for a while. 

the move process took two months but you were finally settled in a new apartment in a new part of the city. small changes from your childhood but you begin coursing through familiar streets the further you get. alongside moving home, you quit your remote job. answering emails all day was starting to kill you, so you applied for a barista job at a nearby cafe. 

three days later, you were hired. you started the next day with a cute little yellow apron with a white nameplate, your name neatly printed in blue chalk pen. your new boss decided that you’d start on the register to get a feel for the customer flow and environment. 

three hours passed, you served many kind patrons, meeting new faces, hoping to see some again. you could get used to this cute place. the drinks were delicious and the pastries looked good enough to steal and eat in the back. 

the bell above the door chimed, drawing you from your thoughts. a short, but very broad, man walked through the door in what you assumed were gym clothes and a gym bag. you noticed that there was a gym nearby, he was probably headed there, if the lack of sweat was anything to tell. however, he looked vaguely familiar. oh well, you’ve met many people on your travels, there’s always the sly chance you see someone twice. 

pushing the feeling down, you took his order. as you grabbed a cup, asking for his name, your eyes widened as butterflies filled your stomach. “chang… bin? like, seo changbin?” the man’s eyebrows raised in surprise. it’s either a very, very odd coincidence or fate that this man has the same full name and features as your best friend from elementary and high school. 

“yes?” he sounded apprehensive, but rightfully so, he didn’t tell you his full name, there’s really no reason you should know. you gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure if you should make a scene or just let it all go, but he’s looking at you with an unintelligible glare. “i know you, don’t i?” he purses his lips in thought. 

you nod slowly, writing his name on the clear cup with a slight tremble. 

the air turns awkward, he’s clearly waiting for you to explain how you know him but nothing’s coming to mind how you can explain your disappearance for the last few years with no contact. 

“you,” your voice comes out slow, uneasy, “you fell off the swings in the third grade and broke your arm in three places.” you take a breath, looking him fully in the eyes, “i signed my name right over the back of your hand when you came back with the blue cast.” changbin’s eyes flicker to your nametag, suddenly, his whole demeanor changes and his eyes light up.

he looks seconds away from hurdling the counter, so you make your way around to meet him in front of the register. thankfully, no one has entered behind him so you’re able to take a minute. once you’re in arms length, changbin practically pounces onto you, enveloping you in his muscled arms. “where have you been!” 

you struggle in his deadly grip, “a-around,” you wriggle your hand as much as you can, tapping his side, “can’t breathe-” 

he lets go immediately, “oh god, sorry, it’s just been-”

you cut him off, an easy smile on your lips, “too long, i know. and i’m sorry.” 

he shakes his head, “don’t apologize,” there’s a pause between the two of you as you take in how much older and mature changbin looks compared to when you last saw him. “how about you tell me everything, start to finish, over coffee tomorrow?” 

heat rises to your cheeks, “that’d be great.” he hands you his phone, letting you put your contact in just as your coworker finishes his drink. 

“protein shake for changbin!” she calls.

“i better-”

“you better-”

“i’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“yeah.” 

the bell chimes as changbin leaves, looking back one last time before heading across the street to the gym. the heat doesn’t fall from your cheeks until the end of your shift when you head home, only to realize there’s three messages from an unknown number, a time, a place, and oh, it’s changbin btw at the end. 

han jisung | how to make purple (red x blue slushy)

late night convenience store trips had been a staple in yours and jisung’s relationship since the day you accidentally threw away jisung’s opened and unattended drink at the same store. the two of you hit it off instantly and you promised to buy him another drink if you could have his number. five months later, you’re dating, a year and a half after that, you move in together. 

the 24/7 convenience store trips still haven't lost their charm, the two of you often dare each other to buy random snacks and taste test them, even rating them. tonight, however, you’re feeling up for a good, cold, bitter cherry slushy. checking the clock, it reads 12:49am. rolling over in bed, you’re met with jisung’s large, bug-like, eyes already staring at you, “convenience store?” you whisper as he nods, a smile breaking out across his face.

that’s how you ended up in a random park at 1:30am, you with a cherry slushy, jisung with a blue raspberry, who he argues is “clearly superior, you simply just don’t understand.” you rolled your eyes. 

you both sit sideways on a bench together, knees brought up to your chests as you chat and sip on your slushies under the sole streetlight on the dark path circling the park. it’s eerie at night, but parks aren’t really meant to be used after the sun goes down anyways. you reach a foot out, tapping jisung’s shin twice, stealing his attention away from the complaints spilling from his lips. he hums in attention. 

you wave a finger, beckoning him closer. he scoots forwards, dropping on leg off of the bench so it sits flat on the paved path. you mimic him, inching forwards yourself to meet him in the middle of the bench. you stick your tongue out at him, causing him to burst into a mini fit of giggles, “your mouth is so stained!” you look down, cross-eyed, at your own tongue, the muscle is as red as a firetruck. 

“let me see yours, then!” jisung also sticks his tongue out, but his is extremely blue. it’s your turn to laugh, as he attempts to look at his own tongue. you both burst into a fit of giggles like school kids. the laughter dies down after a minute of making ridiculous faces at each other. 

suddenly, you get a serious look on your face. jisung’s head cocks to the side, curious, “can i try my slushy with your slushy?” you ask, so he extends his hand with the drink out to you, assuming you’d pop both straws into your mouth, making a cherry-blue raspberry mix in your mouth, but you shake your head. 

“take a drink of yours,” you say, copying when he draws the blue stained straw into his mouth, and as soon as he swallows his drink, you surge forward, pressing your lips to his. your free, not freezing, hand comes up to cup his cheek, drawing jisung closer to you. he melts into the touch as your tongue bullies its way past his lips, coming into contact with his own. the push and pull of tongues and lips mix the fruity syrup between the two of you, gaining you the cherry-blue raspberry combo you so desperately wanted to try. 

jisung lets out a breathy whine, attempting to pull back for air. you part, save for a string of saliva caught between your mouths that snaps and disappears. the hand on his cheek moves to lightly grip onto his chin, coaxing him to open. under the bright enough streetlight, you’re able to see that his previously blue stained mouth is purple. you giggle, sticking your own tongue out, letting jisung see the results. 

“i always knew that red and blue made purple, but-” you silence him with another kiss, this time quick. 

“basic laws of the colour theory, baby, i just wanted an excuse to stick my tongue in your mouth.” you wink as he gasps. as jisung’s brain processes the insult and attack, you stand, beginning to walk backwards until he clues into your missing presence. 

he springs up, catching up to you easily, this time being the one to steal a kiss, “you could have just asked me to make out?” you chuckle and turn so you’re walking the right way as you connect your free hands together and swing them dramatically.

“where’s the fun in that?” smiles rest on both of your lips, hands tightly bound together as you walk home. 

lee felix | blame the boss (only one bed)

you throw a duffle bag onto the cart, caring not if it belongs to you or to felix. you just want out of the stuffy taxi with the rude driver. 

felix pays the man as you unload the trunk, piling yours and his things together. you’ll get it sorted out when you get to the room. you cannot wait to crash on the white linens of the semi-uncomfortable hotel beds. 

felix comes up beside you, grabbing the last bag from the trunk before slamming it shut, letting the taxi speed off to his next money-making opportunity. “ready for some sleep?” felix yawns, causing you to as well. you nod and start to head into the hotel’s luxurious main entrance. 

you’d think for the price they paid to make it as attractive as it is, they could get some more comfortable beds. oh well. 

the check in process is smooth you’d say. the clerk handed felix two keycards while you were fascinated by the fountain in your sleep-deprived state. two full days of travelling for some fancy shmancy business meeting was really not worth it, but you’d like to ideally keep your job. 

felix comes up beside you again, but he looks troubled. “so…”

“so…” you echo, growing concerned. 

“there’s been, a mistake.” his deep voice, rough with the need for rest reverberates in your beating chest. 

“what kind of mistake?” you raise a brow, grip tight on the side of the luggage cart as felix starts for the elevator. “felix, don’t ignore me, what kind of mistake? can’t they fix whatever it is?”

he shakes his head, pushing the button for the fourth floor. “the hotel is 100 percent booked, we’d have to go to another hotel.” the elevator arrives and soon you’re standing in front of room 417. you begin to worry as he scans his card and pushes the door open. “there’s only one bed in our entire room.” 

it was almost bad enough you had to share a room with the coworker you’d been silently eyeing for the past three months, but now? you have to sleep in the same bed? the idea almost sounded foreign. your eyes narrow at him, “there has to be a cot then, a convertible couch?” he shakes his head again, messy blonde hair falling from the loose pony.

you’re joking. you push the luggage in before you follow it, looking for a couch. “there isn’t a couch.” you deadpan, internally screaming at your boss for booking the worst predicament your heart can handle. 

the door shuts behind felix as he throws his hands up, “i can sleep on the floor!” your irritation immediately simmers, you’d feel horrible if felix woke up with a sore… everything from sleeping on the hard ground while you got the bed. 

“no, felix,” you sigh, a short flutter passes through your heart, “we can share?” you offer as his eyes show relief. he really thought you’d make him sleep on the ground, apparently. 

“we can do that if you’re certain, i’ll take up as little room as possible, i swear.” you nod with a smile.

“no promises on my half.”

you weren’t lying, but felix was. when you woke in the morning with the rising sun you were suddenly locked in position. you rub the sleep from your eyes as you take in your surroundings. right, you’re at a hotel with your coworker. felix. where is felix. 

felix, snoring lightly, has shifted in his sleep. he’s got one arm slung over your middle, hand tucked around your back with his legs tangled with yours. his head is tucked into your neck and you can’t feel your arm. 

you still, refusing to wake him on accident. his breathing is low, signs he’s probably still fast asleep. slowly, you try and shift yourself an inch away but felix’s hold tightens in his sleep as he mumbles something about staying. 

the pillow you had between the two of you was long forgotten, you figured five more minutes tangled up and cuddling with your cute aussie coworker wouldn’t hurt as you lay your cheek on the top of his head, palm coming up to rest on the arm around your middle. 

pt. 2 coming soon! | @ hosungie masterlist

tags ; @niku0704 , @felixstarz , @strawberristhings , @seung-min-the-building, ask to be added!

[hosungie]

-`𖹭´- i want to say thank u to everyone whose given my posts their attention, i only started a month or so ago but i've grown exponentially! i'd like to know what kind of posts you guys want to see from me, more social media posts, more ot8 posts or longer solo posts? send in any prompts or ideas here or in my inbox, i'd love the inspo!

reminder, this is only a hobby of mine, but every comment or suggestion is always read and appreciated ≽^- ˕ -^≼

[hosungie]

tag lists ! masterlist

please comment if you'd like to be added to either list ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

৻ꪆ skz ; @ niku0704 , @ felixstarz , @ strawberristhings , @ seung-min-the-building

৻ꪆ bts ; wip

[hosungie]

𑣲lingering touches

w/ skz ot8

their favourite spot for you to get your hands on !

note: decided to start a tag list so pls comment or send your user into my asks to be added to my skz (and/or bts when i start) list !

chris | abs

loves it when he feels your hands wrapping around his midsection, digging your fingers into the crevices between his abs. 

his skin erupts into goosebumps when he feels you drag your fingers around his skin, either on top or beneath his shirt. 

you could be idly chatting, laying in bed, sitting next to each other, but there’s more of a chance your hand will have found his abdomen sometime between conversation. 

you can’t get enough of the sight of your fingers rippling as you pass over his abs, the bumps and ridges you can memorize like your own skin. 

“having fun?” chris hums, one eyebrow raised.

“i am, thank you for your astute observation,” you give him a cheeky smile, digging your thumb into his navel. he jumps at the pressure, nostrils flaring as he pushes your hand away, “hey wait-!” you slap both hands onto his muscle, pushing yourself up and over, straddling his thighs. “i was not done here.” 

chris’s mouth gapes like a fish out of water. what the hell is wrong with you, he wants to say. 

as if you can read his mind you smile a devious thing, “nothing is wrong with me, can i not simply admire the effort my lovely boyfriend has put into sculpting his body?” his brows crease together, probably concerned for you. 

“well- i didn’t- i don’t-” chris stutters, unsure of how to counter you. 

so he doesn’t, he allows your assault of his abdomen, for all things considered, it’s really not that big of a deal. and he likes knowing you appreciate his hard work.

minho | thighs

he let you lay between his thighs once, count that, once (1), bigggg mistake. 

you asked him to squish your head between his thighs one day, he asked if you were okay in the head. you replied, no. 

there’s hardly a time where your hand isn’t rested on the skin of his thigh, feeling the warmth and solid muscle beneath your fingers. 

if you’re lucky, minho will let you sit between his legs on the ground, while he sits on the couch, if there’s people over or not enough space where he is, and rest your head on his thigh. 

the apartment fills with the chatter of over eight people, a night where finally everyone is off. you reemerge from the kitchen, four drinks expertly split between your fingers. as you set them on the coffee table between everyone, you scan the living room, looking for a good place to stay. minho notices and gestures you over, as if he was going to let you sit between jisung and felix, you may never come back alive. 

you assume he wants you to sit on his lap or something, which you’d happily oblige, but he shuffles his feet apart slightly. your eyes widen, finally. 

you turn, sit and scoot backwards until your back touches the front of the couch between minho’s legs. your head immediately falls to the side, feeling the solid muscle beneath your head. you’d probably be content to die here, you figure. 

changbin | biceps

loooooooves when you wrap your hands around one of his biceps, touching, feeling, memorizing. 

he’ll subtly flex, (not so subtle when your arms are the size of his), letting you feel the fruit of hours of work. you press the pads of your fingers into his skin, pushing, poking, prodding. 

changbin’s happy to be dragged around, or have you walk by his side with your hand grasping his arm, a type of searing possessive brand attached to his side. 

don’t get me started on when he lets you use his bicep as a pillow, you could 100% die happy. 

it wasn’t even ten minutes ago that you’d gotten ready for bed, slipping in silently, next to changbin, who, you assumed, was sleeping. when you settled, he rolled over, wrapping an arm around you, leaving the other bent under his own head. in his sleep, he began to feel uncomfortable. changbin’s eyes cracked open, trying to figure where he could puzzle his arm, he figured that you wouldn’t mind if he slid it underneath your head, under your pillow. 

being still awake, you felt him shifting around, and your pillow being jostled left and right. you push yourself onto your palms and changbin freezes. you toss your pillow aside, laying his arm straight. you turned to face him, his hand now on your back, and rested your head on his arm, nose pressed dangerously close to his beating heart. 

you slept like a baby.

changbin could not feel his arm come morning time. 

hyunjin | fingers

hyunjin’s nimble fingers cannot escape your grasp

laying in bed? playing with his fingers. sitting on the couch? playing with his fingers. shopping? playing with the fingers of the hand that isn’t holding a bag for you. 

you like to watch while he paints or draws, how he’s able to spin paint brushes and pencils around his fingers like they’re lighter than air. 

you’re unsure of where your obsession stemmed from, but hyunjin doesn’t mind when you take his hand into your own and spin the rings around his fingers or bend and unbend them.

you’re both on the couch, coexisting together as you do separate tasks. he’s working on something on his laptop and you’re trying to reply to emails. since when did they pile up. why is there so many of them. can people learn to not hit reply all, god that annoys you. sometime as you were caught in your mind, you started wringing your fingers together, bending them slightly unnaturally. hyunjin notices and places his hand between your own. 

you immediately take to spinning his rings around, subconsciously. it was a small gesture but you zoned back in sometime after, realizing you weren’t holding your hand, but the hand of your lover. you raise his fingers to your mouth and give them a small kiss as a thank you. hyunjin understands and rests his hand in your own, you think the emails can wait until tomorrow. 

jisung | hands

much like hyunjin, jisung’s hands are never far from yours

it’s a mutual thing, really. he likes yours as much as you like his. 

you’ll trace little shapes and letters into his palm, keeping your touch light as he occupies himself with work or whatever else. 

in bed? hands held. in public? hands swinging together like school children. lounging around? someone’s getting their hands played with. 

often times, when jisung is nervous, he’ll wring his hands together, or pick at his nails. in an attempt to cease his habit, you’ve taken to just holding his hands in your own:

“let me see your hands,” you hold out your own for jisung to place his palms in. he complies, laying his hands in yours. nothing happens for a minute, he gives you a confused look. “they’re heavier than mine.”

“were you…” he scans your face, “weighing my hands?” his head tilts to the side with a ridiculous smile on his face. 

you weren’t. you were getting him to stop subconsciously picking at his cuticles, and wanted an excuse to have his hands in yours. 

felix | ass 

he absolutely loves it for one reason or another when he can feel your hand slither its way into the back pocket of his jeans, laying on his ass. 

he’s not sure if it’s the surefire possessive touch or just that out of all places, you chose his back pocket to rest your hand. 

you could be at home, in public, or just standing around somewhere, it’s like there’s a magnet attracting your hand to his ass.

if you’re feeling adventurously brave, you’ll ask felix to lay face down and lay your head on him, content to scroll your phone or read. 

felix feels the hand on his waist slowly lower to the back pocket of his jeans. before you can wriggle your fingers into the jean, his eyes snap to yours. “we’re in public.” 

“i’m aware.” you smile, not looking away from the board in front of you. “what are you gonna get?” you gesture to the station. felix huffs, turning back to the kiosk. he flicks through a few pages before settling on something he always gets. 

somewhere between him trying to sound intimidating and picking his order, your hand slid into his back pocket. “someone could see…” he tries but you’re having none of it. 

“if they see my hand then they’re looking at your ass,” you finally look at him, his cheeks are bright red, flushing out the sight of his freckles. 

seungmin | neck 

seungmin feels utterly helpless when your fingers rest on the skin of his neck. whether they’re on his nape, near the pulse points or around the front, he simply adores it. 

he feels like he’s being publicly claimed as yours when your fingers drum against his neck. blood rushes to his cheeks, warming them significantly. 

when you’re in the privacy of your home, he allows himself to be guided around by the hand on his nape, pulling and pushing.

sometimes, he’ll take your hand and bring it to his shoulder, silently asking for you to rest your fingers around his neck. it’s never in a mean way, he really just likes having the weight of your hand nearby. 

you come home to seungmin on the phone, chatting away to whomever is on the other end. he doesn’t hang up when you come to stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pressing a kiss to the back of his head. seungmin takes a hold of your fingers mid conversation, you raise a brow, unsure if he’s doing it absentmindedly or if he’s just feeling particularly like he doesn’t care. he places your hand on the junction where his shoulder meets his neck and pushes your fingers in. 

he continues to talk into the phone, you figure bangchan is on the other end when you hear his hearty laughter through the microphone, they must be talking about something with scheduling, or so. whatever it is, it’s got seungmin tense. 

you push and pull as his skin, massaging the place he put your hand. you can slowly feel his shoulders giving up as his head rolls to the side, giving you better access. 

with the phone still pressed to his other ear, you lean down and press another kiss to his head, keeping your hand comfortably on his neck as he finishes with chan.

jeongin | collarbones

despite the sensitive skin over his collarbones, jeongin loves when you trace lines and shapes over the bone. you keep your touches light, knowing that further pressure can actually really hurt. 

you’ll be laying with your head on his shoulder, and suddenly he’s asking you to switch positions so that you can drag your nail across his skin. 

it started when you were absentmindedly drawing shapes into the skin of his chest, your hand wandered up and ghosted across his collarbones

since then, it’s been his favourite source of comfort

the bedroom door creaks open, you should really get that fixed, revealing jeongin. his sleep shorts don’t reach far but his sweater basically swallows him whole. you immediately open your arms up, inviting him in. “long day?” he hums as he falls into your hold. 

as soon as he’s comfortable, he grabs your closest hand, playing with your fingers. you know what he’s too shy to ask, so you free your hand from him and brush your them across his collarbones, distracting him from whatever is plaguing his mind. he doesn’t usually get needy enough to simply fall into you, but everyone has their off days. you’re just glad you have a surefire way to comfort him when he does. 

you feel jeongin press closer into you, at this point, you’re sure that if he was a cat his whole body would be reverberating with purrs.

i wanted to exhibit my need to touch. | @ hosungie masterlist

[hosungie]

𑣲personal photocard holder

w/ ot8 skz

messages with your boyfriend after you send them a picture with their photocard over your chest.

note: i was very inspired after i scrolled twt and saw that the boob pc trend had resurfaced the other day so it simply had to be done,, this is my first smau ever since i've been writing, lowkey do not know what i'm doing

bang chan

lee minho

seo changbin

hwang hyunjin

han jisung

lee felix

kim seungmin

yang jeongin

my fav was jisung LOL | @ hosungie masterlist

[hosungie]

hosungie's masterlist

a compilation of all of my works in one post for easy accessibility ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜.ᐟ

skz

baby boy hyung line | baby boy maknae line | personal pc holder | lingering touches

bts

nothing yet !

all writing is my own ! do not repost. taglist info!

[hosungie]

𑣲baby boy pt. 2 !

w/ maknae line skz

how do they react when you call them baby boy, seemingly out of nowhere ?

note: couldn't wait to post pt 2 sooooo here it isss

hyung line here !

jisung sits up and sniffles, trying to hide his tears and hiccups behind his hands. his lips snap shut when you stir beside him, rolling over to face him. moonlight filters through the curtains, illuminating your face enough that he realizes you’re awake and looking at him through cracked eyes. 

“jisung, honey, what’s wrong?” he wipes his eyes again, moving his face to the side, trying to hide it from you. you sit up next to him, taking his chin between gentle fingers, “look at me?”

he does, he turns his face in your hold, eyes downcast. a tear slips onto your hand but you pay it no mind. jisung heaves a breath, then looks at you with a fake smile. “i-i’m fine! go back to bed,” he tries. 

you swipe your thumb over his bottom lip, “not a chance, please tell me what’s wrong?” he looks up at you, teary eyed, and shuffles closer, laying his head on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around him. 

“bad dream. really bad, i-it-” another sniffle, “it just felt so real, i don’t think my body could tell it wasn’t,” you let him speak, laying back and guiding him to lay his head on your chest. 

you run a soothing hand down his back, letting him play with the other, “do you want to talk more about it?” 

he chuckles lightly, “i think if i do, i’ll cry again.” he shifts, tucking his head fully under your chin, breathing warm against your skin. 

you reach down and fix the blanket, throwing it over the two of you, “okay, baby boy.” you kiss his forehead, “go back to sleep, we have a busy day tomorrow.” he’s out like a light seconds later. 

he wakes in the morning to the memory of you sweetly calling him baby boy, not the dream that scared him from his sleep. he bites his lip with a small smile, you’re stuck calling him that now, he figures. 

felix sighs, pulling a sleep shirt over his head. by sleep shirt, it means it’s a shirt of yours that he’s stolen and claimed as his own. the day wore on him like boulder on his shoulders, he’s ready to crash into bed and not rise for three whole days. 

he washes his face and brushes his teeth in the connecting bathroom before shuffling over and falling flat onto the bed. he shifts around until he’s comfortable, head on his pillow, tucked into the blankets. but there’s something on his mind he can’t seem to shake. 

the bedroom door cracks open, revealing you in your day clothes still. “long day?” you say in unison, making the other giggle. you both nod, ready to let sleep take you both over. 

“let me wash up, i’ll be back soon,” felix hums as you saunter into the connected bathroom where he was minutes ago. 

you shower quickly and brush your teeth, ready to crawl into bed alongside your beloved. when you exit the bathroom you find felix still awake, which doesn’t surprise you but he looks conflicted. “what’s wrong, love?” you ask, choosing to sit on the side of the bed beside him. he turns towards you, resting a hand on your back, idly playing with the hem of your shirt. 

“not sure, can’t seem to get my mind to turn off,” you tuck a strand of golden hair behind his ear, moving to swipe your thumb across his freckled cheek as you hum. 

your fingers dance across his cheeks, over his nose and around his ears, “have i ever told you that you’re so beautiful? my beautiful baby boy.” heat warms his cheeks when he meets your eyes. they’re full of love. 

“baby boy? that’s a new one,” he mumbles, tugging you to lay next to him. 

you half shrug, careful to not elbow him, “figured i’d give it a shot.” 

felix hums again, “say it again.” 

“go to sleep, baby boy.” 

seungmin never liked when you told him off for hovering around while you worked in the kitchen. he wanted to be around you, help if he could, after being gone all day. “you could get burnt if you’re not careful and i’m cooking,” he opens his mouth to retaliate, “and no, i don’t want your help.” you spin, pushing him backwards by a finger until he hits the island, “what i want is for you to go sit on the couch and relax until it’s done.” seungmin deflates, bottom lip jutting out. you shoo him away, he pouts further but complies either way. 

seungmin flopped himself onto the couch, idly watching whatever was on while he waited for you. an episode later, he hears the clink of plates being removed from the cupboard. he sits up, ready to be called upon like he knows you will. 

“baby boy, come here, would you?” you called from the kitchen. seungmin’s ears perked up as they warmed. he paces into the kitchen, with his head tilted. “take these to the table?” you hand him two sets of utensils, a smile on your lips. he nods and takes them from you, “thank you sweet boy.” 

he sets the plates down, then pauses. he thinks for a minute before marching back into the kitchen, cheeks flaming. seungmin stutters a few times before articulating his thoughts, “what’s with all the nicknames, huh?!” he sounds slightly panicked, his cheeks are not helping as he tries to look insulted. 

you dry the spatula in your hand, using it to tilt his chin upwards. “i thought you’d like them,” you sigh, “oh well, back to your name it is, then.” you tap the underside of his chin once then turn to grab both plates of food, ready to set the table properly. 

“w-wait no, i…” he trails off. 

you hum sweetly, “hmm?”

he whispers as his cheeks flare red. “i liked it.” 

jeongin hums to some tune they must have worked on yesterday, something slow and jumpy, as he sits across from you in the driver's seat. you, in the passenger, are content to listen to his humming as he drives you to work. jeongin had insisted earlier that he drive you, since he didn’t get home until late yesterday and wanted to make it up. you’d told him there was nothing to make up, but he wasn’t having any of it. 

he takes each turn like a practiced song he knows the entire choreography to, bringing you closer to separating for the day. pedestrians and buildings swim in your field of view but you pay them no mind as you fiddle with some button in his expensive car. “what’s the plan for later?” jeongin’s voice breaks you from your thoughts.

you hum, unlike his song it’s just a quick thing, “not sure, i should be done around five today if you’d like to come get me? maybe we can go out for dinner today.” he smiles, revealing twin dimples in his cheeks, glancing over to you as he pulls up to the lights just before your work building.

“sounds lovely, i’ll come get you.” he pulls off to the side, putting the car in park. 

“then it’s a date, baby boy.” you lean over the console and press a kiss to his cheek, which is warm under your lips. you turn to gather your things, flipping the visor down to check yourself in the tiny mirror as jeongin grasps onto your free arm. 

his eyes are slightly wider, looking at you like you’ve just given him the world; they’re swimming with a mix of love and need, “say that again,” he whispers. 

you chuckle, and lean over to pat his cheek, “i’ll see you after work, baby boy.”

if jeongin sat parked on the side of the road for twenty minutes contemplating life, that’s no one’s business but his own. 

baby booooyyyyssss @ hosungie | masterlist

[hosungie]

𑣲baby boy

w/ hyung line skz

how do they react when you call them baby boy, seemingly out of nowhere ?

note: im slowly getting back into writing so forgive any mistakes ! chan referred to as chris cause we cool like that

maknae line here !

chris slowly peels his headphones off when you knock on his studio door, letting them hang around his neck. “you should have gone home,” he huffs, eyes still glued to his laptop. 

you let yourself in, “i could have said the same thing to you.” you cross his studio in three strides, stopping to spin his desk chair around to face you. chris whines. the window is cracked on the opposing wall, letting the late night autumn breeze cool the room. the posters and papers stuck onto the walls shiver and rustle lightly. you reach out and cup his cheeks to stroke the discoloured skin under his eyes with your thumbs. results of long days of hard work, discipline, and probably not enough water. 

you decide to press, “when was the last time you had a real meal?” passing another stroke over his cheek bones. he shrugs, leaning into your touch, letting his eyes flutter shut. you move one hand to pass through his blonde, unkept, curls, detangling a small piece. 

“maybe this morning?” he finally answers, voice gravely with exhaustion.

you pause, leaving a hand in his hair, “chris. i made breakfast at seven. it’s almost midnight.” he doesn’t reply, knowing his bad habits affect the both of you. your thoughts catch up to you, “oh, honey. c’mon baby boy, we’re going home.” 

his eyes open and you can feel the warmth flooding into his face beneath your hand. “oh. yeah, yeah, okay. home.” he spins around to fiddle with his laptop before closing it and tucking it under his arm. 

you pretend to not notice the flush of his skin and turn to wait by the door. chris whips around his studio like a tornado, picking up the papers you know you’re going to have to wrangle out of his hands later. he meets you by the door and takes your hand with his free one. his palm is sweaty… i wonder why.

minho hears the front door open, but does not dare to move. his lap is the chosen resting spot for not one, not two, but all three of his cats. he dares not disturb his children. 

“i’m back!” you call out, expecting to either be greeted by padded paws or socked feet. when none comes, you walk down the hall, closer to the living room. “min-” oh. 

a quick succession of blinks morph into crescent moons as minho smiles. “hi, love.” he strokes each cat one by one. 

you quiet your steps as you approach, then lean against the back of the couch, resting over one of the back pillows. “i see you’re preoccupied, i suppose i’ll go eat by myself.” you sigh dramatically. minho reaches back and grabs your arm, a teasing scowl on his face. by now, the cats have woken to the sound of your voices, and are beginning their exits. you stroke dori along the back while you kiss minho’s cheek. “come, it’ll get cold and neither of us like nuked rice.” 

minho stands then stretches, a joint popping in the process. “how long were you sitting there? rather, how long did they have you trapped?” 

he meets you behind the couch, “long enough that i cannot feel my ass.” 

you reach around him, grabbing an entire hand of his ass with a smirk. “i can.” that earned you a light smack. you whine, “not fair, you gave me the perfect opportunity to-” 

“i do not care. go wash up.” 

you reach up to tap under his chin, “whatever you say, baby boy,” then turned and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

it didn’t hit minho until three hours later when you had your head rested on his arm while you watched a movie together. the way your eyes glinted under the living room light, the featherlight touch on his chin, and the way you called him baby boy. he might have to excuse himself if he thinks about it any longer.

changbin loves the gym, it’s true. he loves to be able to flex in the mirror and see the swell of his muscles, the fruit of his hard word and discipline. it wasn’t rare to find him practicing poses in front of the mirror, fresh out of the shower, or in the middle of changing. you tease him occasionally for it, poking at his biceps as you walk by, not that he minds. 

more often that not, you want to get your hands on him. whether it be just resting a hand over his skin, have your hands wander his skin, or get a solid grip on his arms, you want to be in physical contact. to appreciate his work, you say. you think that you like his arms more than he does half of the time. 

you’ll often suggest the idea of giving him a massage after a day of work, to help him relax. changbin doesn’t say no to the idea. if he’s one thing, he’s a man: he loves the feeling of you running your hands all over him, pushing into the sore muscles of his back after a day of work, or which ever part of his body he worked out that day. 

today, however, you were feeling particularly mean, in a teasing mood if you would. changbin peeled his shirt off, laying flat on his stomach on your shared bed, ready for you to attack his aching back. you mount the backs of his thighs and start as you would, pushing into the meat in his shoulders, sides and back before you paused, leaning forwards. 

“you had a long day today, didn’t you, baby boy?” you kneaded his lower back as he nodded and exhaled, content. 

“wait-” changbin pushed himself onto his hands, rustling you backwards, yet you stayed perched on his elevated thighs, “baby-” he looked over his shoulder at you, ears tinged pink.

“what? don’t like the nickname?” he lowered himself back onto his stomach with a whine, “you’re my baby, and you’re my boy,” he can practically hear the cheshire smirk on your lips. he doesn’t respond, just groans into the pillow under his head when you hit it a painful spot near his left side. 

you finish his promised massage with his face shoved so far into the pillow, you’re not sure how he’s breathing, neck burning hot and ears bright red.

hyunjin sits perched on the couch, legs crossed with a serious look on his face. you sit not so far away, an equally as serious look on your face. the standoff continues until you sigh in exasperation, “fine. you win, we’ll get beef.” hyunjin’s face immediately lights up, launching himself forwards to land on top of you, tipping you both backwards onto the rest of the couch. 

he perches his chin on one palm and twirls a lock of hair in the other, “then can we also get-” you squish a finger to his lips. 

“whatever you want now, no,” he pouts behind the finger, attempting to bite it as you pull back. he remains perched atop your body, forcing you to stay on the couch as you wiggle in an attempt to grab your phone to call in the food you just argued over for twenty minutes. 

after hanging up the phone, hyunjin finally decides that he’ll allow you to breathe. he rolls off of you, unceremoniously landing flat on the floor with a huff. you nearly tip yourself off the couch and land on him as you roll to ask if he’s okay. he is. 

around 25 minutes later the doorbell rings, by now, hyunjin had made it off the floor and was sitting up, leaning into the plush cushions of the couch, scrolling through netflix in an attempt to find something to watch while eating. he twitches at the bell but you stand before he does. 

“thank you, my love,” you meet his eyes, practically stalking your movements, before his eyes squint with his smile. 

you run a hand through his hair as you pass behind the couch, leaning down to kiss his cheek, “no problem, baby boy.” 

the controller stills in his hold as he processes what you said. it wasn’t a big change from the usual cutesy nicknames but something in his gut stirred, heavy with desire. 

he ate unusually fast, ready to pounce, given the chance.

insane debut post if you ask me :p @ hosungie | masterlist