[jisurary]

You're my motto!(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

may's mini library. Hope you enjoy your stay here! Writing/main account (@minniebbang)

Member's tagging :

Bang chan - 🐺

Lee Minho - 🐈

Seo Changbin -🐇🐖

Hwang Hyunjin - 🥟

Han Jisung - 🐿️

Lee Felix -🐥

Kim Seungmin - 🐕

Yang Jeongin - 🦊

*this account is where you'll catch me yapping about the fanfic I read 🫣

[chanslaptopbattery]

so close!

bangchan x 9th member fem!reader

summary|| chan's slip up during recording and everyone panic as they try to cover it (jeongin to the rescue)

gener|| fluff, secret relationship

a/n|| this was a part of an ot8 fic of the same theme but i couldn't write anyone other than chan so he get a seperate drabble

you were filming the recording scenes for a new song,

the studio was warm in contrast to the weather outside, all of the members were gathered there, every one of them was too lazy to go back home after they finished their parts, and they had every right to–who would want to go out of a room that felt like a cozy blanket and onto the freezing weather?

so because of that the room felt extra lively, chatter and hot drinks mugs filled it, which also reduced the stress on 3racha as they could relax in this chaotic setting and get the recording lightheartedly.

it was your turn now, you cleared your throat as a warm up while you went into the recording booth. you put the headphones on, the music plastered through it as chan signaled for you to start.

after a few seconds the music dies when you finished, you looked through the glasses to the three who were listening to it again, han looked up at you with wide eyes “whoa that was so good” he said, visibly impressed as he looked at the others, “our y/n is so talented~” changbin said in cutesy–way. you let out giggle and looked down shyly at their praise, a small smile crept on chan's face “of course she's amazing, she was practicing all night yesterday in the house.” he didn't think twice about what he said, too indulgent on the computer in front of him and on matching your singing with the music, but everyone else did–the room suddenly went too quite, everyone paused mid whatever they were doing, you stopped in your tracks in the doorway.

chan slowly realized what he had said upon the sudden tense atmosphere in the room, he looked up at the members “i-uh i mean when..when,” he stuttered as he tried to think of something to escape this situation. suddenly jeongin started to motion vaguely in the air “ah! you mean in our dorm, when noona came to visit us!” even though he tried to say that in a confident way he was very obviously nervous. “i remember, i couldn't sleep because of it.” he looked between you two nodded in confirmation, chan quickly copied him, nodding now himself “yeah yeah! that what i meant” he chuckled nervously and went back to his computer, shaking his head from side to side." I must be really tired, i don't know what I'm saying.”

it was a weak save, and no one bought it, but at least it was something he could repeat everytime he was asked about it.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ִֶָ. ..𓂃 @imsleepingwhataboutu @dina-10s-blog @ilvin88 @loonarixsxx @hanniesbubuwife @hyunjinsslut12 @lilyxii @anastarsia-00 @chrispypineappleburger @1-aria-1 @leeknaurrrr @koala-wonderland @jeonginsfavglazer @yngjgn @ren0325 @yourstargirlyyy @viisstrayy @bunbunbl0gs @vernorica123 —𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕/𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒔𝒌 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅!!

[jisurary]

Thank you Jeongin for your attempt to keep the relationship a secret🫂🫂

And yes...I read this while in my chemistry lab—

[sturnaisa-deactivated20260531]

“DID YOU BITE YOUR LIPS?”

hyunjin x gn reader (fluff, couple, cute)

you two were sharing quality time in the kitchen, enjoying breakfast. Hyunjin was flipping some pancakes, saying something very funny that happened at work, you were eating them, with little apples in the bowl with oatmeal to reinforce.

he would tell the story with his usual enthusiasm, and you would laugh because he always made you laugh; even more so with that korean intonation when he were imitating a member's voice, you'd be completely gaggling.

in the first few minutes, just as you were about to ask him more, you bite your lips unintentionally, letting out a little ouch!, startled, tasting the bit of blood.

“babe! what happened?” Hyunjin turned around with the groan and immediately went to you, “did you bite your lips?!”

“yeah, I did...”, you were going to put your hand on the wound, but he told you not to touch it, that he would bring some bandages.

you obeyed, watching him leave. your mouth seemed to swell more with each passing minute. goddamn it, why did this have to happen? even stubbing your toe on a corner would have been better than this, because you wouldn't have probly gotten a canker sore that would ruin your next week. but it's okay, doc Hyunjin is already coming back, maybe he can say that you won't get it.

“let me see...”, he leaned down and cupped your face in both hands, seeing the small streak of blood trickling down it. then he simply licked it away. you made a surprise face at him as you blushed. “what? it's just blood, babe”

“yeah... but you just don't suck the blood from people's wounds”

“oh shush it”, he chuckled, then pause. “I don't know either why I did that”

“you're so weird...”

“just let me put the bandage on, okay?” he removed the bandage from its packaging and pressed it against the wound on your lip after applying some ointment. then he kissed the bandage, saying it would help it heal faster. you felt warmed, the heart giving little jumps.

and you got so distracted by it that you could only hear him say “you're going to be ok, k?”, after giving you a few more kisses on the cheeks and the forehead. you answered him. he returns to the stove.

“if anything comes up, let's see a stomatologist”

“it's probably not that bad”

“yeah but we don't know, babe. just let me know if anything, ok?”

“yeah, ok” you said, returning to the meal, still feeling the strong sensations of being loved and cared for, bringing back the same memory.

and he noticed your current demeanor, smiled. “you look cute with that”.

[jisurary]

Bdbdbdhdbdjdjissjsh AHHHHH WHAT A CUTE FIC TO START MY READING FIC ERA AGAIN.

Alright alright the sad things about this is how short it is :(( BUT either way I enjoy it!! Thank you writing this(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

[scribblewytch]

≔ [ ❤︎ ] : (tiger!hybrid) lee minho x (caretaker) female reader ◟ wc : 516 //⬩➤ 【 warning 】 ᝰ. hybrid au and not proofread

It’s been about a couple of days, seven to be exact, that a whole week has gone by miserably due to you catching a cold out of nowhere. You were so out of it. Yet even then, your stubbornness pushed you to go to work. However, you couldn’t step into the facility even if you tried as both your co-workers and supervisor urged you consistently to fully receiver before returning to work. They had to do a lot of convincing before you gave up and headed back home. 

During your time spent stuck at home, you couldn’t commit to relaxing. All you could do is worry about how much work your co-workers have to fill in for you and how Minho is doing. Some people may find it ridiculous, but as a hybrid caretaker, like many others in your profession, the hybrids that you take care of have a special bond with each and everyone of you. Although, for Minho, that bond is only reserved for his favorite person on earth. You. 

So it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise to your co-workers that you're texting them to get updates about how Minho is doing. From their replies, they all told you that he was doing fine, something you found really hard to believe since he doesn’t like anyone in his environment other than you. Therefore, you tried to get better as soon as possible. 

By the time you felt all better, you rushed to work. You clocked in, quickly greeted everyone, and then bolted to Minho’s environment. Your ID scan made the door slide open as you looked around. 

“Min? Min where are you?” You called out curiously, walking in to hear a chuff. “Oh? There you are?” 

You walked towards the tree that he was resting on. 

But as you got close to him, he turned his head. 

“Come on, don’t be like that Min.” You cooed, brushing your fingers through his soft fur. 

As mad as he is at you, he doesn’t make the attempt to move away, instead he starts purring. 

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” You began to explain. “I got sick and had to stay home.” 

His ears perked up as he turned his head around to look back at you. To anyone, it would be intimidating to have a grown tiger stare at them directly. Though you have nothing to worry about, not when it's Minho. Then before you could react, he changed back into his human form. 

He didn’t say anything as he hugged you tightly and closely with his forehead resting on your shoulder while you hugged him back. 

“I thought you finally got tired of me…” He fearfully admitted into the fabric of your shirt. 

“Silly Min. I’d never get tired of my favorite feline.” 

“I’m your favorite?” He peaks up to look at you. 

“Duh, you’re the only feline that I know.” 

“Hmph, good. Cause I’ll hate sharing…” 

“You won’t have to worry about that any time soon, Min.” You assured, gently scratching his scalp as you felt him pur against your body.

∿۶ৎ🏷️ @wobblewobble822, @firstclassjaylee, @niku0704, @emeraldgem22, @scarlettuce-lettuce, @juju-227592,@geni-627, @iconicallyher, @danielle143, @sammhisphere, @maggicotton, @unenthusiasticmigraine, @zayn-210, @tearsofgenshin, @theaknowsstuff, @instabull

[jisurary]

Hehe, I love fluff hybrid au, this makes me so happyyyy!! Thank you for writing this! 🤸

[hanjinology]

HE'S LUCKY, YOU LOVE HIM

this is just han jisung being your boyfriend and being just a complete idiot sometimes, but you really never mind it at all. you love him regardless and he's lucky, you love him because this exact moments make you just wanna facepalm so hard (not that you haven't already).

a/n: this was so short and spontaeneous but i just know there would be moments like this if you happen to date jisung. he's lucky he's cute and endearing even if like this.

permanent taglist: @hime-honne, @dxllyhorror, @thepoeticpurplepotato, @verslyns, @channlust, @leewayout, @zosauce, @kloversung, @1-aria-1, @vxyselectric, @urfavleobiscuit, @written-by-music, @fanficwriter5, @minniebitesfr, @pedropacals0l0s, @iheartkentonanami, @ncityswrld, @danielle143, @persassyismysecrettwin, @trisha-dear, @pineapple-burgah, @luv4innie, @bunbunbl0gs, @marlboropuffs, @morgangrice18, @33peach33, @peskybirdysya, @ogerontheside4, @theyknowagus, @zerefdragn33l, @melodyladean, @ebnabi, @emeraldgem22, @fweakygyatt, @taekwondoe, @sue-reads, @shinygubbins, @lilmissfergy, @quokkahansung, @binniebb, @clairementsolo, @nclabels, @genuinelybrittleidol , @parkthothwa8, @daphnnie, @hyunnjynn, @sagetakami, @hanniesbubuwife, @hycnsung, @matzduo

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

[jisurary]

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH, PLEASE😭😭😭 HOW IN THE WORLD HE COULD FORGET Y/N 😭😭😭

[astrayapple]

No One Suspects Their OOMFs (April Fools Edition) (SMAU)

Pairings: Chan x fem!reader (could be read as gn if you don't mind that someone calls you "girl" but otherwise no pronouns used!)

Rating: T+

Genre: Established Relationship, SMAU, Twitter, oomfs, goofin and gaffin

Summary: A totally normal day on Twitter leads to your boyfriend acting just a tad jealous hehe

A/N: sooo @pvppymin deadass inspired me to do this LOL i just kept thinking about her April Fools oomf post (GO READ IT) and now here we are HAHA

(masterlist)

Permataglist: @nightmarenyxx @sparky2020sworld @thatgirlangelb @skzzfoxyyy @fweakygyatt @teffyx @91dreams91things @theferretkids @pvppymin @clairementsolo @what-just-happened-to-me @soulphoenix1618 @stay-tiny-things @gadriezmannsgirl @i-am-confused-about-life @cchapssaltteok @lizal1cious @chandlxa @tricky-ritz @bunnythesiren @staytinycassichu @rayraymylove @bbokarismeow @bekindtourself @btch8008s @daphnnie @pineapple-burgah @blindspotquokka @danielle143 

[jisurary]

Bfhdhdhdhhddh this is so funny😭😭😭😭 help😭😭😭 thank you for making me laugh while I wait for my laundry :> !!!!!

[ellipsis9]

Between schedules

Seungmin x f!reader

Synopsis: After years of loving Seungmin through comebacks and tours, you realise understanding his life doesn’t make the waiting hurt less—and you choose to let go, even though you both still love each other.

a/n: sorry i haven’t posted in so longg ive been super busy but i should be back to posting regularly again

Cw: angst, no happy ending

Wc: 2,181

The months that are yours are always so good it’s almost cruel.

They’re the quiet stretches between the noise—when the promotions slow down, when the flights stop stacking like dominoes, when his phone isn’t vibrating every five minutes. Those months feel like you’re allowed to exhale again.

Seungmin cooks badly on purpose because he likes the way you laugh when he pretends it was “definitely meant to taste like that”. He falls asleep with his cheek pressed to your shoulder, arm heavy around your waist like he’s anchoring himself. He sends you voice notes just to say, “I’m walking home,” as if the fact he’s walking home to you is the most ordinary, precious thing in the world.

In those months, it’s easy to forget the other version of your relationship exists.

The one where you become patient by necessity.

The one where you love him through a screen.

The one where “I’ll try” becomes a whole season of your life.

You don’t think he does it because he doesn’t care. That’s never been the issue.

If anything, Seungmin caring is part of the problem—because when he’s drowning, he tries to protect you from the chaos by shrinking himself down and going quiet. He doesn’t turn cold. He turns guilty. He turns careful. He turns into someone who’s trying so hard not to disappoint you that he disappears.

And you’ve spent years learning how to miss him without making it his fault.

But missing someone you love still hurts like hell, even when you understand why.

౨ৎ

This time, it’s tour straight into comeback prep.

This time, it’s the same story—but you’re older now, and you can’t pretend your chest doesn’t ache the way it always does.

He texts when he can.

Seungmin: landed

Seungmin: sorry i’m late again

Seungmin: are you eating?

Seungmin: i miss you

And you believe him, every time.

You also notice the gaps getting easier for him. Or maybe you’re just noticing the pattern more clearly.

Because you’ve done this dance for years.

A few golden months of normal.

Then weeks of him slipping through your fingers again.

Then you rebuilding your expectations down to something smaller so you don’t break.

You keep telling yourself: This is what dating an idol looks like.

And maybe it is.

But you’re starting to wonder what it looks like to date someone and not feel like you’re living on borrowed time.

౨ৎ

When he gets back from tour, you don’t rage. You don’t send paragraphs at 2 a.m. You don’t guilt him for being exhausted.

You wait until you can talk properly.

That’s what mature people do, you tell yourself.

So you wait.

And then comeback prep swallows him whole again, and it becomes another week of almosts. Another string of “I’ll call later” that never lands. Another Sunday you keep free because he might have time—until he doesn’t.

You’re not even surprised when you get:

Seungmin: schedule changed. i’m sorry. can we do another day?

You stare at the message with a calm you don’t recognise at first.

Not numbness. Not bitterness.

Just… clarity.

You type back:

You: Can we talk in person? I’m coming over after your rehearsal. If you’re too tired, I’ll leave.

Three dots.

Seungmin: no. please come. i want to see you.

That last part makes your throat tighten. Because of course he does. He always does.

Wanting has never been the problem.

౨ৎ

He opens the door with that familiar softness in his face—eyes widening, relief flickering before worry catches up.

“Hey,” he says quietly. “Come in.”

He looks like he’s running on fumes: hoodie, damp hair, tired eyes trying their best to stay gentle. He smiles anyway, small and real, like your presence is something his body recognises as safe.

“Are you okay?” he asks immediately, voice careful.

You nod. “Yeah. I am.”

He searches your face. “That sounded like a lie.”

“It’s not,” you say, and you mean it. “I’m just… serious.”

His shoulders dip like he’s bracing himself. “Okay.”

You sit together on the sofa. Not close enough to touch yet. Not far enough to feel like strangers. The space between you feels deliberate, respectful—like you’re both trying not to tip anything over.

He rubs his palms against his joggers, fidgeting. “I’m sorry I’ve been… absent.”

“I know you’re busy,” you say gently. “I know what this part of the year is like.”

He looks up, eyes shining already. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

He swallows. “Then why do you look like you’re about to break my heart?”

The honesty in his voice knocks the air out of you.

You exhale slowly. “Because I think I have to.”

Seungmin goes still. Completely still. Like his body is trying to freeze time.

“No,” he whispers. “Please—don’t—”

You lift a hand, not to stop him, but to slow the moment down. “Let me talk. Please.”

He nods once, hard, throat bobbing. His eyes don’t leave yours.

You speak carefully, like you’re carrying something fragile.

“This isn’t just about now,” you say. “It’s not just tour and this comeback.”

His face crumples a fraction. He knows.

“You’ve always had these stretches,” you continue, voice calm even as your eyes burn, “where I get you for a few months—properly—and it’s amazing. I’m not pretending it isn’t. Those months are… they’re some of the happiest times of my life.”

Seungmin’s breath stutters, like he’s relieved and devastated at the same time.

“And then,” you say softly, “it flips. Tour. Comeback. Tour. Promotions. And I become someone who waits.”

Seungmin shakes his head, small and broken. “I never want you to wait.”

“I know,” you say quickly. “I know you don’t. And I know you love me. You’re not cruel. You’re not careless. You’re trying your best.”

His eyes spill over. He scrubs his cheek with his sleeve like he’s embarrassed to cry, but he can’t stop.

“I just—” he starts, voice cracking. “I don’t know how to do it all.”

“And I’m not asking you to,” you say, firmer now. “That’s the point.”

He looks at you like he doesn’t understand.

You swallow. “I can’t keep being in a relationship where the hardest parts are normal. Where every intense schedule means I’m back to counting messages and hoping for ten minutes.”

Seungmin’s mouth opens. Closes. His hands curl tight in his lap.

“I don’t want to make you choose,” you add, immediately, because you see panic bloom in his eyes. “I’m not here to say ‘pick me or your career’. That would be unfair, and it’s not who I am, and it’s not what I want.”

His voice comes out rough. “Then what do you want?”

You blink back tears. “I want a relationship where I don’t feel like my role is to wait for it to start again.”

The silence is heavy, but it isn’t angry. It’s grief.

Seungmin whispers, “But we have months. We do. When it’s calm, we’re good, right? We’re—” He laughs once, broken. “We’re really good.”

You nod. “We are.”

Hope flickers on his face like a match.

“And that’s why this is so hard,” you continue, voice shaking. “Because the good months don’t cancel out how I feel during the bad ones. They just… make the bad ones feel like falling from a higher place.”

His eyes squeeze shut. Another tear slips.

“I don’t blame you,” you say softly. “I don’t blame your job, either. I understand it. I’ve understood it the whole time. I’ve been proud of you the whole time.”

Seungmin looks up, devastated. “Then why can’t you stay?”

You inhale, slow. “Because understanding doesn’t stop me being lonely.”

His breath catches, like the truth physically hurts him.

“I don’t want to become resentful,” you say, voice gentle but steady. “I don’t want to look at your schedule and feel dread. I don’t want to hear ‘comeback’ and feel my stomach drop. I don’t want to start hating the thing you love because it keeps taking you away from me.”

Seungmin shakes his head quickly. “I can fix it. I can— I’ll make time. I’ll talk to—”

“Min,” you interrupt softly.

He stops. His eyes are wide, pleading.

“You shouldn’t have to fight your life to make room for me,” you say. “And I shouldn’t have to shrink myself to fit into whatever space is left.”

He looks like he’s been punched.

You reach out then—careful—and take his hand. His fingers clutch yours instantly like he’s starving for it.

“I love you,” you say. “I love you so much. That’s not the question. The question is… is this good for me? Is it good for you?”

His lips tremble. “It’s good for me,” he whispers, desperate. “You’re—you’re my safe place.”

Your throat tightens. “And I’ve been trying to be that. I really have. But I can’t be your safe place if I’m falling apart quietly in the background.”

Seungmin makes a small sound, like he’s trying not to sob. “So you’re leaving.”

You nod, tears finally spilling. “Yeah.”

His hand grips yours harder, then loosens like he remembers he isn’t allowed to hold you against your will.

He wipes at his face, breath shaking. “Fuck,” he whispers. It’s not anger. It’s just pain.

“I’m sorry,” you say immediately.

He shakes his head, a little frantic. “Don’t—don’t be sorry. You’re not doing anything wrong. I just—” His voice breaks completely. “I don’t want this.”

“I don’t either,” you whisper. “But I think it’s the healthiest thing.”

He stares at you through tears. “Healthy,” he repeats, like the word doesn’t belong here.

You squeeze his hand. “I want you to chase what you love without carrying the guilt of hurting me every time it gets intense. And I want to build a life where I’m not constantly bracing for the next goodbye.”

His face crumples again. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” Your voice turns warmer, softer. “That’s why I’m not angry at you, Seungmin. I’m angry at the situation. I’m angry at time. I’m angry at how often I’ve felt like I’m dating your absence.”

He closes his eyes, tears tracking down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

You let yourself look at him properly—this boy who loves you in every way he knows how, and still can’t give you the one thing you need most: consistency.

“I’m proud of you,” you whisper. “I’m proud of how hard you work. I’m proud of how kind you are even when you’re exhausted. I’m proud of you for caring as much as you do.”

Seungmin’s face twists, voice small. “If you’re proud of me, why does it feel like I’m losing everything?”

Because you are, you think. And so am I.

You say, instead: “Because we’re human.”

He laughs once, wet and helpless. “That’s a terrible reason.”

“I know,” you whisper, teary. “I wish love was enough.”

His gaze flickers over your face like he’s memorising you. “Can I… can I hold you? Just for a second?”

You nod.

He pulls you into him like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, but he’s still gentle—always gentle—arms wrapping around you carefully, shaking with quiet sobs. He presses his face into your hair and breathes like he’s trying to take you with him into his lungs.

“I love you,” he whispers, voice wrecked. “I love you so much.”

You hold him back, and it hurts, because this part has never been difficult. Loving him is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “That’s why I’m doing this kindly. Not dramatically. Not cruelly. Just… honestly.”

He clings a little tighter, then slowly lets go.

When you pull back, his eyes are red, lashes wet, expression shattered.

He swallows hard. “Can we—” He can’t even finish the sentence. His voice breaks again.

You squeeze his hand one last time. “I don’t think we should do the in-between thing. It’ll just keep us stuck. It’ll keep me waiting, and it’ll keep you guilty.”

He looks like he wants to argue. Like he wants to beg. Like he wants to promise you the impossible.

Instead, he whispers, “Okay.”

It’s the most devastating kind of respect.

You stand. Your legs feel unsteady, but your decision doesn’t.

At the door, you pause and look back.

Seungmin is sitting exactly where you left him, shoulders shaking, hands twisted together like he doesn’t know what to do with them now. He looks up at you like he’s trying to be brave.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, small.

“I know,” you whisper. “And I forgive you.”

His face crumples at that, like forgiveness is somehow worse than anger.

You swallow your own tears. “Be happy, Min. Really. Be happy.”

He nods, crying. “You too.”

You leave before either of you can say something that would make you stay.

Outside, the air is cold and sharp, and the world moves on like it always does—cars passing, people laughing, time refusing to pause.

Your phone buzzes once as you walk away.

You don’t look.

Not because you don’t care.

Because you care enough to finally stop waiting.

౨ৎ

Tag list

@lucyysthings

[leeknowlore]

🕸️🕷️✮⋆˙ LOG 1 — ANOMALOUS DATA POINTS (chapter 1 of my spiderman!jisung series)

pairing: han jisung x fem!reader, college spider-man au, established relationship synopsis: your boyfriend’s always been really fucking weird. but lately? he’s inconsistently weird. and the more you notice it, the harder it is to ignore. so you do the only logical thing a uni student in stem would do: you start logging. warnings: ~4k words, fluff, mentions of porn, suggestive themes (mdni!), making out, very brief dry humping, profanity, mentions of cheating, kinda loser!hanjisung but he's trapped in a hot body, angst

a/n: i had to consult my friend whos in stem like five separate times to make sure the science i was writing wasn’t absolute clownery. clearly i’m not a stem girl. hope you enjoy! next chapter is already underway <3

next: log 2

you’ve known han jisung since high school.

which means you’ve spent approximately five years observing a loser who somehow manages to be both the love of your life and the human equivalent of dropping a beaker the moment the lab goes quiet.

honestly, if someone asked you to draw him from memory, you could. if someone asked you to write a dissertation on him, you’d win several awards for knowledge. if someone asked you why you love him—well, that answer is weirdly simple:

he’s perfect. not in the traditional never makes mistakes, future nobel prize winner kind of way, but perfect in the way you’ll always find yourself to be attracted to his flaws. perfect for you.

and honestly? your relationship with him has always been smooth. stable. no weird inconsistencies. just two academically overworked university students dating each other like normal, well-adjusted people.

okay, fine. jisung is not normal. or well-adjusted. but he’s consistently not normal. predictably not normal. that counts for something.

your professor clears her throat loudly at the front of the lecture hall.

“now,” she says, projecting her voice with that deadly combination of enthusiasm and exhaustion only university faculty possess, “let’s move on to our next topic: how to identify anomalous data points within an otherwise consistent pattern.”

your pen slips slightly in your hand.

anomalous data points.

huh.

you haven’t thought about “unusual” in a while.

“and remember,” the professor continues, “outliers often indicate that something in the system isn’t what it appears. they can be warning signs. or evidence of a larger pattern.”

you sit up a little straighter.

because sure, your relationship is smooth. predictable. no anomalies. 

but there is… one thing.

well—many things. now that the professor mentions it. 

you chew the end of your pen, staring at the slide, suddenly replaying the past few months with jisung in your head.

actually there’s a list. a growing list. a list that, if plotted on a graph, would look suspiciously like something was very, very wrong with the trendline known as han jisung. 

your brain blanks for a second. how could you not think of an example? you swear there were things. little things you noticed and then forgot. things that pinged your intuition but never loudly enough for you to stop and call them out.

and now your brain has completely blanked. as if the second you try to pin down an example, it slips through your fingers.

you know something was off about him this past year. you just can’t remember the proof.

you tap your pen against your notebook.

okay. starting today, you’re keeping track. a proper record. if your boyfriend is hiding even one more questionable moment, you’re going to catch it from here on out.

at the front of the room, your professor turns back to the class, chalk in hand.

you met jisung after class at the little bubble tea shop near campus, the one with the barista who always added extra pearls when she saw the two of you because she thought you were “adorable.”

he was already waiting outside, backpack half-unzipped, hair slightly messy. he spotted you and his entire face lit up.

“y/n!” he called, waving so aggressively that his sleeve got caught on his backpack strap. 

he spun halfway around trying to untangle it, nearly walked into a bike rack, then pretended nothing had happened.

you snorted before you could stop yourself, shaking your head as he finally freed himself from the strap.

he jogged the last couple steps toward you and immediately softened.

“how are you, baby?” he asked, leaning in to kiss the side of your head, warm and familiar.

you squeezed his hand. “i’m great. how was class?”

he grinned, eyes sparkling. “today, professor—wait, hold on, you smell really nice. is that new shampoo?”

“yeah. i ran out cause someone finished my other bottle last time he came over.”

“you said i could use it!” he stammered. 

“you used like half of it,” you reminded him.

“i have lots of hair!”

you raised a brow. “jisung, that wasn’t even meant to be a hair-washing shower.”

jisung froze.

his ears went pink. 

because the memory hit you both at the same time. jisung was in the steam, hair dripping, breath shallow, eyes blown wide as he blew your back—

thank god you had your own bathroom.

that would’ve been impossible anywhere else.

he slapped a hand over his face. “okay, okay, we don’t need to talk about that in public.”

you laughed, stepping up in the café line as he trailed after you, warm and flustered and trying very hard not to combust. he hovered close, chin nearly on your shoulder.

“so,” you said, amused, “chem class?”

“oh right, yes,” he said, snapping back to his original thought with a tiny gasp. “chem class. i had something important to say about that before i got distracted by—” he paused to inhale dramatically near your hair. “—this incredible shampoo situation.”

you rolled your eyes, smiling. “focus, jisung.”

“sorry,” he continued before clearing his throat, “professor han—no relation to me but i wish there was because he’s so cool—looked at my results and said my solution was ‘fascinatingly incorrect.’” he paused dramatically. “which is basically a compliment if you really think about it.”

you laughed under your breath. “he literally said you were wrong.”

without missing a beat, he lightly punched your arm with the hand that wasn’t holding yours.

“the greatest scientists make mistakes all the time, y/n. it’s all part of a great outcome”

you rolled your eyes. “sure.”

he pointed at you. “professor han would adore you, you know. he loves students who ask a ton of questions and bring their own lab coats.”

you groaned into your hands. “i wish we were in chem together.”

he gasped dramatically. “me too! we’d be unstoppable. or expelled.”

“but silly me decided i needed a ‘balanced schedule,’” you said, using air quotes, “and now i’m stuck with dr. park and her three-hour lectures on covalent bonds instead of being with my stupid boyfriend.”

jisung furrowed his brows as you could see the gears turning behind his eyes, wondering if that was an insult or affection. all of the above?

“next!” the barista called.

“hi,” he said brightly, already pulling out both your student ids. while jisung continued chatting with the barista. your gaze drifted up toward the small tv mounted high behind the register.

“—and once again, spider-man has saved another two civilians after a late-night collision in the downtown core…”

the footage cut to a shaky prerecorded interview clip from last night. spider-man was by the sidewalk as the microphone was held up to him. his voice was deeper than you expected.

“yeah, uh, i was just trying to mind my business,” he said, “but, you know, a car flew past me and i figured that meant i wasn’t allowed to go home yet.”

you laughed quietly. 

you felt jisung tug your hand gently.

“what is it?” he said, finished with the order as the two of you stepped aside to wait. 

“oh nothing,” you said, nodding toward the tv.

jisung led the way to a table. you heard, rather than fully saw, the chaotic sequence behind you: a chair leg scraping, his foot catching, and the unmistakable thump of him saving himself with a last-second. but your eyes never left the tv screen.

he managed to pull out your chair anyway, breathing a little unsteady, like he hoped you hadn’t noticed him almost eating shit. you were used to it by now.

you sat without looking away, your gaze glued to the footage of the superhero.

“you know,” you said, straw tapping absently against the side of your cup, “i just can’t believe we’ve never seen spiderman in the flesh. you’d think a guy who swings around the city would be easy to catch.”

his eyes flicked toward the tv.

“i feel like everyone has a spider-man story except us,” you added.

he didn’t answer right away. when he finally did, his voice was softer. 

“yeah,” he said, staring intently at the screen. “but personally, i wouldn’t wanna see him.”

you blinked, pulled out of the tv trance. “why?”

he shrugged one shoulder, picking at the plastic of his cup. “i don’t know. he attracts danger. chaos. people getting hurt. he only shows up when something bad is happening. like, building-on-fire bad. so i’m good.”

you laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “okay, dramatic.”

he squeezed your hand. “i’m serious. if you ever see him nearby, get out of there. run home. hide in a trash can. i don’t know—just don’t be around.”

“you know,” you added, teasing, “most people want to take selfies with him. ask for autographs.”

jisung scoffed. “most people don’t value their lives.”

“so you’re saying if spider-man walked in right now, you’d what? scream?”

“i’d exit the premises calmly,” he said, pointing at the door. “and i’d take you with me.”

you grinned, shaking your head. “you’re so fucking odd.”

“trust me when i say this,” he said softly, leaning closer, “let yourself be scared of him.”

suddenly, all your jokes were replaced by something that made your stomach dip.

before you could respond, the cashier called out your order.

jisung straightened instantly, the serious moment evaporating like it never existed. he bounced over to the counter with that familiar lightness in his step, humming under his breath as he collected your drinks. he thanked the cashier enthusiastically, nearly knocking over a stack of lids as he turned back toward you with both cups in hand and the brightest smile on his face.

“look at that,” he said, handing you yours. “i’m your hero. you don’t need to meet spider-man when you see me every day.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips.

the library was unusually quiet in the afternoon, even by university standards. the private study room you booked had thick glass walls and perfect soundproofing. jisung sprawled across from you, laptop open. his knee bounced lightly under the table, his foot occasionally tapping yours.

you flipped through your notes with a sigh. “i swear chemistry makes no sense.”

“it does,” he said, eyes glued to his screen. “you’re just overthinking it. come here.”

he patted the chair beside him without looking up, like he expected you to obey the way someone calls a cat. you huffed, rolling your eyes, but you still got up and moved next to him.

as soon as you sat down, he angled his laptop toward you and pointed at a diagram.

“so here,” he said, tapping the screen, “this is the viscosity curve. if the fluid’s structure changes under stress, it becomes non-newtonian. which is why certain compounds can thicken or stretch depending on the force applied.”

you narrowed your eyes. “so… like slime.”

“not like slime,” he said immediately, offended.

you bit back a laugh. 

“now think of it this way. if a substance has really strong intermolecular forces but super flexible bonding patterns, it’ll flow normally until it’s suddenly hit with pressure.” he paused. “then it behaves almost like a web. sticky when you don’t want it to be. stretchy when you don’t expect it. and—”

he stopped mid-sentence.

completely froze.

his eyes locked onto your arm.

“don’t move,” he whispered.

“what?”

then you felt a faint, crawling pressure along your forearm. you looked down.

a huge spider.

your breath caught in your throat.

your chair screeched violently against the floor as you jerked back, heart slamming against your ribs. you flicked the spider off with shaking fingers and slammed your notebook down so hard the thud echoed off the soundproof walls.

silence swallowed the room.

jisung didn’t move, he just stared at the crushed spider with a look you’d never seen before.

silence.

he wasn’t breathing right. his chest rose fast, shoulders tight, eyes still fixed on where the spider used to be. 

he finally forced himself to blink, then tore his gaze away.

“um, it’s gone now. it’s dead.” you said softly. 

he didn’t answer right away.

“jisung?” you tried again.

he cleared his throat, but his voice came out thin. “i’m gonna go use the bathroom. just for a sec. i’ll be back.”

you frowned. “pee later, sungie, i still need help with this—”

“just look at your notes for now,” he said quickly. 

he stood too fast, bumped the table with his knee, apologized to the damn object, and headed for the door with a strange stiffness in his shoulders. and you watched him go, your pen hovering over your notebook.

you had never known jisung to be scared of spiders.

back in your first year of high school, during a field trip to the zoo, you remembered it clearly. the rest of your group had screamed when the handler brought out the tarantula, but jisung wore a stupid smile on his face. 

you remembered him asking the poor handler ten questions in a row. you remembered him sticking out his hand so the tarantula could crawl on it while you hid behind your friend’s backpack.

he wasn’t scared then.

so why now?

you glanced toward the door again.

slowly, you turned to your laptop, opened a new document, and typed at the top:

anomalies - hjs

below it, you wrote your first entry.

sudden and intense fear response to spider

reaction does not match past behavior

you stared at the words for a long moment.

you exhaled slowly, then clicked the tab closed. the document winked out of sight. you shut your laptop entirely, pressing the lid down until it clicked. you pulled your notebook back toward you and flipped to the last page you were working on. 

you tapped your pen twice against the margin, trying to focus.

the door clicked softly a few minutes later.

you looked up.

jisung stepped back inside, hair a little damp at the fringe. he gave you a small smile.

“hey,” he said, voice light. “sorry. took a bit.”

you smiled back, relieved to see him. “are you okay?”

he nodded quickly. “yeah. perfect. bathroom was… bathroom.”

definitely weird.

several days passed.

your list grew. one odd detail at a time. 

and by the end of the first week, your document had an entire scrollable section.

entry 2:unusually tense around windows above the second floor (fear of heights???)

notes: went to the student center rooftop patio and claimed it was “too windy,” refused to go near the railing

entry 5:pretended (?) to struggle to open a jar he could definitely open

notes: watched him open the same brand of jar two months ago with one hand while texting someone; today he pretended to lose a bicep; 1 man, 1 jar

entry 8:hyper-aware of emergency sirens

notes: siren went off down the street and he ducked before the sound even reached us; reaction time suspiciously fast; claims he “thought it was a bird,” which is not how birds work

entry 11:fear of heights confirmed (allegedly…)

notes: claims he’s always been scared of heights; this is so not true; man once climbed a tree on jeju island in tenth grade to steal an orange and fell out of it laughing

you might wonder what happened between those entries.

the short answer? disappearances. just variation after variation of the same pattern. both disappearances without explanation and disappearances with a stupid a explanation. 

entry 6, left you in the middle of a date because he “needed to check if his laundry was done,” even though it was nine in the morning and he hadn’t done laundry. entry 9, left a study session because he “sensed something in the air,” whatever that meant. entry 4, left after saying “be right back” and returned an hour later with no explanation at all.

it was weird. really weird.

but this wasn’t new. you were only now paying attention.

before the doc, you always shrugged it off. jisung was quirky. jisung forgot things. jisung wandered. jisung got distracted by anything with a heartbeat or a shiny surface. that was normal.

but now that you were writing it down and seeing it in neat black text on a glowing screen, the pattern looked clearer. 

you stared at the last entry and wondered how many of these moments you had missed. how many other strange details had slipped through the cracks because you were too busy ogling him to notice anything else.

a knock sounded at your dorm door.

you froze for a second, blinking at the sound. you weren’t expecting anyone. you pushed your chair back and stood, crossing the room with slow, curious steps.

when you opened the door, jisung was standing there with his backpack hanging off one shoulder.

and then he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him so fast you stumbled back a step. his face buried itself in your neck, warm breath brushing your skin as he exhaled like he’d needed this more than air.

“whoa hi,” you laughed, arms going around him automatically.

he held you like he always did after a rough day. his hands slid up your back, palms warm through your shirt, and he nuzzled into your shoulder.

such a loverboy. always had been.

and standing there in your doorway with him clinging to you like you were home, your list and all its strange little entries suddenly felt very far away.

“you okay?” you asked quietly, your voice dipping into his shoulder.

he shook his head, the motion brushing his forehead against your collarbone. his fingers tightened where they held you, bunching your shirt in his fist.

“i’m so tired,” he murmured, the words small and honest. 

“do you wanna nap?” you murmured into his hair. “we can lie down for a bit.”

jisung let out a groan. a low, exhausted, grateful groan that vibrated against your skin.

“god… yes,” he muttered, voice muffled in the crook of your neck. “that sounds so good right now.”

he didn’t even try to hide how relieved he sounded. his entire body slumped a little, weight leaning into you like he was giving up the last of his energy just standing there.

you smiled and slid a hand down his back. 

he finally pulled his face from your neck just enough to look at you, eyes half-lidded and unfocused in the soft light.

“you’re the best,” he mumbled. 

you nudged the door open and guided him inside, watching him drag his feet. he let go of you only long enough to toe off his shoes, then immediately gravitated back into your space. once he went into your room, you froze.

fuck. your laptop was still open.

still on the document.

you shot forward and slammed the screen shut.

jisung blinked. “what was that?”

“nothing,” you said quickly.

he squinted at you, suspicious but still sleepy.  he moved toward the laptop.

you stepped into his path like a guard dog. “don’t.”

he tilted his head. “why not?”

“because,” you said, flailing for the first excuse that popped into your brain, “it’s… porn.”

he stopped. completely froze.

then his eyebrows lifted slowly, like someone pulling up a window blind.

“…porn?”

you nodded vigorously. “yes.”

a beat.

his lips twitched. “what kind?”

you choked. “jisung—”

he took another step toward the desk. “what were you doing before i came over?”

“nothing!”

jisung chuckled—the worst possible reaction for your sanity—and your face went hot instantly. he reached a hand toward your desk, fingers brushing the edge of your laptop.

you wanted to die. actually die. your only options were: 1. letting him read the sacred doc and having a meltdown, or 2. seducing your gorgeous, clingy, tired boyfriend who you’d happily kiss all day anyway.

yeah. option 2 was not exactly a burden.

using seduction as a distraction wasn’t even a sacrifice. you would happily climb this man like a tree at any hour of the day with zero hesitation.

so really, this was a win-win.

before he could even open a crack of the lid, you shoved him—hard enough that he stumbled backward onto your bed, bouncing once. you crawled onto the bed after him, slow and purposeful, and watched his cocky smile falter into something softer. his breath caught when your hand pressed against his chest, pushing him gently down into your pillows.

his breath hitched. “this is not a nap.”

“it’ll wake you up.” you teased with an innocent smile.

you swung one leg over him, sitting on his hips. his hands immediately found your waist like muscle memory.

this was definitely working.

his eyes were wide and hungry.

“oh… oh,” he said, voice dropping. “we’re doing this.”

“yes, jisung,” you said, leaning over him until your noses almost brushed. “i mean… you just found out i’ve been horny, so i assume you’re gonna follow through with it, right?” 

his entire body reacted before his brain did as he nodded aggressively.

“oh yeah. for sure. absolutely. don’t even—don’t even ask twice,” he blurted, hand sliding instinctively to your hip. “you say the word and i’m here. i’m ready. always.”

you bit back a grin. “always?”

“always,” he repeated. “literally anytime. literally right now. literally—”

you cut him off by kissing him.

just a soft press of your lips to his, gently shutting him up. he melted instantly, his hands slipped lower, palms dragging down your sides until they cupped your ass like he’d been waiting to touch you there all week. his fingers squeezed and you let out the smallest breath of surprise against his mouth, which he took as a green light to keep going.

your hips rolled instinctively. you didn’t mean to but the contact felt too good to resist. jisung exhaled sharply into your mouth, the sound barely muffled by the heated kiss. you pulled back for a second just to breathe and he chased your lips like he couldn't stand the distance.

you leaned back just enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off in one motion, tossing it to the side. jisung’s jaw slackened and his gaze dropped straight to your chest that was covered by a pink lace bra.

he sat up slightly on his elbows to get a better look, mouth parted, hair falling into his eyes. you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“you’re so pretty,” he whispered, thumb brushing over the lace like he’d never seen anything so perfect.

your cheeks went hot and for a second it looked like he was going to say something else, but you didn’t give him the chance.

you reached for the hem of his shirt.

he blinked, confused for exactly half a second before panic sparked behind his eyes.

“wait, wait, y/n”

“what?” you asked, already tugging the fabric upward, your fingers slipping under the cotton, knuckles brushing his stomach.

his shirt was already rising, lifting inch by inch over his ribs and chest, revealing warm skin and the faint rise and fall of his breathing. when he made the mistake of lifting his arms to help you, it was game over. the fabric came off, hit the floor, and you sat back to take in the view.

and then you saw.

there, smeared faintly across the line of his collarbone and trailing lower along the left side of his chest were purple-red blooms of something fresh.

hickeys. 

you stilled instantly.

he knew you saw them.

he knew the moment your body pulled back just an inch too far, the moment your hand lifted off his skin like it had burned you.

“it’s not what it looks like,” he said quickly, voice sharp with panic. “please, listen, i—

“really?” you asked, voice steady, the way voices go when someone’s trying not to crack.

“i didn’t—i wasn’t—fuck, just listen, okay?” his hands came up like he wanted to touch you, but he stopped himself, palms hovering near your hips. “it’s not what you think. i swear on my fucking life. please believe me.”

“why do you have hickeys on you, han jisung?”

“…they’re bruises,” he said.

you stared at him.

where the fuck would jisung get bruises from?

he didn’t play sports. didn’t so much as jog unless someone was chasing him or offering free food at the finish line. and if he somehow did manage to bruise himself at the gym, he’d have sent you ten pictures complaining and begging for sympathy within the hour.

and even if—even if—you suspended every shred of disbelief and assumed it was gym-related... what kind of exercise leaves that fresh of a bruise?

you pulled back without saying a word, climbing off of him like your skin had gone cold. you grabbed your shirt from the floor and turned away, fast. 

“wait, please”

your heart was racing, your fingers shaking as you pulled your shirt back on. you couldn’t stop the confusion, betrayal, fear, all of it crashing at once. and suddenly your little document felt more like a trail of breadcrumbs. and you were no longer sure if you wanted to know where it led.

“baby—” he started, his voice cracking on the word. “they’re bruises. i swear to you, that’s all they are. fuck, i thought they’d fade by the time i saw you. normally they would’ve faded.” he kept going, faster now. 

your stomach turned.

you blinked.

“…normally?”

his eyes froze.

he realized too late what he’d said.

“so this has been happening frequently?” your voice came out like a whisper at first.

“it’s not like that. it’s not someone else. i’m not cheating on you.” he grabbed at his hair, pulling his fingers through it roughly. “fuck, i can’t explain it. i know how it looks but i’m telling you the truth.”

“what is it, then?” you asked, voice sharp and trembling all at once. “where the fuck are those bruises from, jisung?”

silence.

he didn’t answer.

his mouth twitched but nothing came out. he just looked at you, eyes wide and tearful, chest rising with shallow, panicked breaths.

you took one step back. another. toward the door.

“get out,” you said, low, dangerous. “get the fuck out of my dorm.”

“no,” he breathed, voice breaking. “no, baby, please. don’t do this. you know me, you know i would never do that to you.”

you hated that part of you still wanted to step forward. still wanted to wipe the tears from his face and kiss him until he stops crying. but the rest of you—every furious, aching part—was more powerful.

“i’ve already lost so much to this,” he whispered. “i can’t lose you.”

lost so much to what? the fuck does that even mean?

“you’re being so fucking confusing,” you spat, your own tears starting to well up. “you’re saying shit that makes zero sense, hiding behind this cryptic ‘i can’t tell you’ bullshit, and i’m supposed to what? pretend you’re not lying to my face while covered in hickeys from god knows who?”

he looked like he couldn’t breathe. like every word from you hit him square in the chest. your vision blurred.

your throat burned as your voice cracked. “just—what did i do wrong, jisung? what did i do that made you think you had to cheat on me.”

“baby, you didn’t do anything,” he said, fast, stumbling over the words. “you’re perfect. you’re so good to me. sometimes i don’t even know why you’re still with me. you’re smart and hot and you always smell really fucking nice and i’m such a fucking loser, y/n, how many times do i need to tell you i didn’t cheat on you, why the hell would i ever cheat on you?!”

your chest heaved, breaths coming out shaky and uneven. you wiped at your face, but the tears kept falling.

you believed him. because if there was one thing jisung had always been, it was loyal. so loyal he probably made people think you were some batshit crazy possessive girlfriend.

once, a girl at the gym asked him what machine he was using and he panicked so hard he pointed at every machine except the one he was actually on just so she wouldn’t think he was flirting. 

which, honestly, probably made it worse because instead of looking loyal, he probably looked like he was trying to tease her on purpose. ugh, what an fucking idiot your boyfriend is. 

so no—him sneaking around with someone else didn’t fit. not even close. not even in an alternate universe.

but even if your brain couldn’t possibly believe it, your heart was still drowning in every awful possibility your mind had created. every horrible scenario you imagined the moment you saw those hickeys.

you were too hurt and scared and angry to let logic settle in. too overwhelmed to let yourself trust anything.

you wrapped your arms around yourself, shoulders curling inward.

“just go, jisung. i need space.”

he froze. “no, no, don’t do this, please.”

“get out, jisung.”

“i didn’t cheat,” he whispered, shattered. “i didn’t. you have to believe me.”

he took a step toward you, desperate.

“out.”

he let out a breathy sob before he bent and picked up his hoodie with slow, trembling hands, pulled it on over the bruises that had started all of this. 

this was it.

the exact nightmare he’d replayed in his head a thousand times. he’d known this would happen. if he stayed silent for too long, he’d lose you.

he grabbed the doorknob, fingers curled so tightly around the metal it bit into his skin. he opened the door.

and your voice hit his back like a final blow.

“don’t come back until you’re ready to tell me the truth.”

@estella-novella @rousslut @jinniezret @bangchans-girl

[jisurary]

Reblogging this here so I don't lost it again😮‍💨

[ghostintheclub]

BbokAri in Real Life | Lee Felix

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Summary: You surprise Felix with a baby chick he names BbokAri

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.6k

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Dating Felix is like dating a detective. He’s hyper aware of every little thing you do and if you change the slightest thing, he catches it, which is why keeping a secret from him is nearly impossible. You do your best to just be careful and quiet so you don’t accidentally drop hints. You keep it simple, responsible, and you try not to look at his face too long or you’ll crack.

Because this surprise is little baby, a tiny, fragile, warm little life, and if you’re going to do this, you’re going to do it right.

You spend over a week reading. You talk to a local farm supply store that does proper sourcing and you ask questions until they realize you’re serious.

You check what’s legal where you live and confirm you can actually care for a chick safely and humanely, and then finally you set up the brooder.

The brooder is a safe enclosure with clean bedding, a heat plate and thermometer so the temperature stays stable, water that won’t drown a tiny beak, chick starter feed, electrolytes just in case, and a small “hide” corner so the baby can feel secure. You even get a little dry erase board for nearby because you know Felix will be the type to worry himself sick if he thinks he’s doing something wrong.

You don’t want to bring Felix stress or problems, youre bringing him a baby.

The day of the surprise, he’s in the living room with his hair still damp from his shower, hoodie on, legs tucked up on the couch like he’s made himself small on purpose. He’s scrolling on his phone, humming softly, totally unaware that you’re about to wreck his entire heart in the best way possible.

You come in the room carrying a small box. Felix looks up immediately.

“What’s that?” he asks, already smiling like he can’t help it.

“A surprise.”

His smile turns into a grin so wide it’s ridiculous. “You have a surprise for me?”

“I do.”

He sits up straighter. “Is it food? It’s food, isn’t it? Or a cute thing. Or a food cute thing.”

“It’s a cute very much alive thing,” you say before you can stop yourself.

Felix freezes.

“Alive,” he repeats softly.

Your heart warms at the way his energy shifts from excitement to concern, like his first instinct is the wellbeing of whatever it is.

You nod. “Yeah. But don’t panic. I did everything right. I checked everything. I prepared. I promise.”

He slides off the couch, slow, like he’s approaching something sacred. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay. I’m calm. I’m calm.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“I’m calm,” he insists, voice already trembling. “I’m just… excitedly calm.”

You set the box down on the coffee table and sit beside it so you can guide him properly.

“Before you look,” you say gently, “you have to promis you won’t be loud.”

Felix’s eyes widen. “Why?”

“Because it’ll scare it.”

He nods instantly, hands lifting like he’s surrendering. “Okay. No squealing. I won’t squeal.”

“You also can’t just pick it up without supporting it,” you add. “And you need to wash your hands after. And there’s a heat setup ready in the other room.”

His mouth falls open.

“A heat setup,” he repeats, stunned. “You set up a heat setup?”

You nod. Felix looks like he’s about to cry and you haven’t even opened the box yet.

“Okay,” he says, voice small. “Okay. I’m ready.”

You lift the lid slowly.

Inside is a tiny yellow chick, soft and round like a little puff of sunshine, blinking up at the light like it’s confused about this whole weird world.

Felix’s face changes instantly. All the bright, golden energy he always carries turns into something softer. Tender, like he’s looking at the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

He covers his mouth with his hand. “Oh my god,” he whispers.

The chick peeps quietly.

Felix makes a noise that is barely audible, like his heart just got squeezed. “It’s a baby.”

“It’s a baby,” you confirm, smiling.

He leans closer, careful, and the chick tilts its head at him.

“Felix,” you whisper, “are you crying already?”

He nods frantically, tears actually falling. “It’s so small.. I can’t… it’s looking at me.”

The chick peeps again, and Felix’s lips wobble like he’s going to melt into the floor.

“Can I say hi?” he whispers.

“You can say hi,” you say. “Just quietly.”

Felix leans in and whispers like he’s speaking to a tiny queen.

“Hi,” he says softly. “Hello, little one.”

The chick peeps back.

Felix looks at you with wet eyes like he’s just been chosen for a destiny. “It talked to me.”

You snort. “It peeped.”

“It peeped to me,” he corrects, serious. “Specifically to me.”

You reach into the box and gently scoop the chick up, showing him the safe way to support its body, one hand cupping, the other steady.

“Do you want to hold it?” you ask.

Felix nods.

You place the chick into his hands carefully, guiding his fingers.

Felix freezes like he’s afraid to breathe.

The chick settles, warm and impossibly light and Felix’s face crumples again.

“Oh no,” he whispers, voice breaking. “It’s warm.”

“Babies are warm, but he has to be kept warm still too.”

He brings his hands closer to his chest, cradling it like it’s a jewel. The chick peeps once, then tucks itself against his palm like it’s decided Felix is safe enough to make into a nest.

Felix stares down at it with pure devotion.

“What’s its name?” you ask quietly, already having an idea what he’s going to pick.

Felix sniffles, eyes still fixed on the chick. “BbokAri.”

You smile. “Of course it is.”

He looks up, offended through tears. “That’s the only name.”

“Fair,” you say, laughing softly.

Felix looks back down and whispers, “Hi, BbokAri. I’m your dad, you’re like a little sunshine puff.”

You make a face. “You’ve been a dad for three whole seconds.”

Felix nods. “And I’m already doing amazing.”

The chick peeps again.

Felix gasps. “It agrees.”

You stand slowly. “Okay, papa. Let’s get BbokAri to the brooder.”

Felix follows you like you’re leading him through a holy ceremony. When you get to the room, his eyes widen again at the setup, like you built him a castle.

“You did all this,” he whispers.

You nod. “I wanted you to feel safe. And I wanted BbokAri to be safe too.”

Felix’s face softens into something so grateful it makes your throat tighten.

He lowers the chick into the brooder gently, hands shaking with care.

BbokAri waddles two steps, peeps, then immediately goes to the warm spot.

Felix kneels beside the brooder like he’s on watch.

He watches the chick drink a tiny sip of water. He watches it peck at the feed. Then he turns to you with wide, shining eyes.

“It’s eating,” he whispers.

“Yes.”

“It’s really eating.”

“Yes, Lix.”

He looks like he might cry again. “It’s so brave.”

You sit down beside him on the floor and bump your shoulder gently against his.

“You’re going to be a really good caretaker,” you tell him.

Felix shakes his head fast. “No, you are. You did everything. I’m just… I’m just emotional support.”

“You’re the type to stay up all night watching it breathe,” you say.

Felix looks offended. “I’m not going to stay up all night.”

Two minutes pass.

He whispers, “Do chicks breathe fast?”

You laugh. “They do.”

He leans closer to peer at BbokAri. “Is it too cold? Is it too hot? Is it happy? Does it miss its siblings?”

Your heart squeezes. “You’re doing the thing.”

“What thing?”

“The spiraling,” you say gently.

Felix pouts. “I just love it already.”

You shift a little closer and slide your hand onto his back, rubbing slow circles.

“Okay,” you say, voice soft. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to follow the care sheet. We’re going to keep the brooder clean. We’re going to monitor temperature and handle gently and not too much so it doesn’t get stressed and we’re going to check in with the place we got it from if anything seems off.”

Felix nods, eyes still glued to the chick. “Okay.”

You poke his cheek. “Youre going to be obsessed.”

He sighs dramatically. “I’m already obsessed.”

You both sit there for a while, watching BbokAri wobble around like a tiny cotton ball with legs.

Felix whispers little things under his breath like he’s narrating a documentary.

“Look at him go.”

“He’s so small.”

“He’s pecking.”

You keep smiling, because this is exactly what you wanted. The way Felix’s love pours out of him so naturally it’s like breathing.

Eventually, he leans his head on your shoulder, still kneeling.

“Okay,” he says, determination snapping into place. “We need a schedule.”

You blink. “We already have a schedule.”

“We need a Felix schedule,” he says, very earnestly. “Like, feeding, cleaning, temperature checks, BbokAri emotional wellness, bedtime story.”

“Bedtime story.”

Felix nods like that’s obvious. “Yeah. He deserves one.”

You laugh quietly. “You’re going to read a bedtime story to a chick.”

Felix looks at you with full sincerity. “Do you think BbokAri doesn’t deserve literature?”

You laugh harder, and he finally smiles too, that bright sunshine smile that makes everything feel warm.

Then he looks back at the brooder and lowers his voice. “Hi, BbokAri,” he whispers gently. “It’s okay. You’re safe. We’ve got you.”

The little chick peeps softly, like it believes him.

Felix’s eyes go wet again. He leans into you, whispering into your shoulder, “I’m going to love him forever.”

You squeeze him gently. “I know you are.”

He sniffs, then pulls back, lip wobbling.

“Can I hold him again later?” he asks.

“Later,” you say. “We’ll let him settle.”

He nods, even though you can tell he wants to scoop BbokAri up and carry him around like a tiny dog in a purse. He settles for sitting there beside the brooder, quietly keeping watch, like he’s guarding the softest little heart in the world.

tag list: @puppymsworld @royallavenderlilac @clairementsolo @1giss4swft3 @hannalegie @stilesstilinskiforlife-blog @skznoir @doodlebob2005 @chandlxa @keymeadoww @cchapssaltteok @kloversung @g0obz @channies-babygurl @lucyysthings @foppishitudinality @ellyyyysstuff @rylea08 @tteokbbokkari @nyaaa-cat @chuahuahua @applesrpeak @thicccurls @pinknymphkisses @zeezo554@mikachux3 @iconicallyher @sanniix33 @lalalili435 @bbokarismeow @delightful-light @karlee10261990

[jisurary]

THAT'S FREAKING CUTE?!?!? NOW I'M THE ONE WITH THE WOBBLING LIPS🥹🥹 I miss the chicks that my siblings used to take care of (they already grew unfortunately —)

Thank you for writing this little one, my heart is now all warm and fuzzy<3

[jisurary]

I have so many unread stories to the point Idk where to start— :/

[thebibleophile]

Secrets ~ Part 2

Masterlist

Genre: Dark Stalker Romance

Pairing: Loner/Secretive Minho x Awkward/bookish fem!reader

TW: 21+, MDNI, Stalking behavior, Obsessive behavior, Sexual content, Manipulation and deception, Mention of Violence/Blood, Theft, Invasion of privacy

WC: 3,350

This story is in the same universe as all my other series

Synopsis: Will Minho's obsessive manipulations bring him closer to Y/n, or will they only push her further away?

AN: Mostly Minho (Lee Know) lusting after Y/n. Lots of dirty thoughts. All of his thoughts are italicized (this font)

Minho’s POV

"Aye Hyung! You gonna come help me or are you just going to sit on your ass all day doing nothing?" Seungmin's incredibly annoying voice suddenly broke through my deep, contemplative thoughts. I slowly shifted my gaze away from the dainty silver ring that I was passing between my fingers to look at my friend.

Who was currently in the process of cleaning out the large SUV we had used just a few hours earlier to transport some goods. Slipping Y/n's delicate ring snugly on my pinky finger—just the simple thought of her wearing it every single day made the corners of my mouth twitch upward just a bit. I knew it was her favorite; I could tell, it was the one piece of jewelry she always wore.

I wonder if she's missing it right now… I really hope so.

That particular thought made my lips gradually spread into a full-on, genuine smile.

"What the hell are you smiling at?" My eyes refocused on Seungmin, who was now watching me with a slightly annoyed and questioning look plastered across his face. He was visibly sweating from his efforts, his dark hair sticking to his forehead in various random places. I let out a deep sigh and finally walked up to him, beginning to inspect the cleaning job he had started.

"Why is there blood everywhere?" My eyes carefully took in the dark red stains that were not only splattered across the trunk's grey carpet but also spread along the sides of the upholstery and even a little bit on the windows.

Seungmin threw down the rag he had been using with frustration and firmly put both his hands on his hips. "Fucking Hyunjin and Felix took it out right after we got back here. Felix said he had some urgent business to take care of immediately."

I leaned in close to examine the large puddle of blood that had pooled at the edge of the carpet right near the door. "Hm." Raising a brow in careful assessment of the situation, "Impressive… You won't be able to get this cleaned properly with just scrubbing; you're gonna have to completely strip it out and put brand new carpet in." I looked over at my tall, lanky friend with a knowing expression. "I'll let you be the one to tell Chris about this mess. I have somewhere important to be anyway."

And with a slight smile and polite nod of acknowledgment, I left my friend Seungmin there alone, cursing everyone and everything under his breath in frustration.

—

Hours later I found myself in the process of moving boxes into my new apartment, carefully carrying them one by one from the moving truck parked outside. The mundane, repetitive process of moving all of my shit from one place to another really did not thrill me in the slightest, but what did get my blood pumping was the fact that I had strategically moved one floor directly below Y/n's apartment. I carefully set the large, heavy box I was holding down by my living room window that faced the busy street four stories below and stood there for a moment, staring out the window with focused attention.

She should be getting home soon, any minute now.

It was a Saturday afternoon and I knew Y/n's entire schedule like the back of my hand. She went every single Saturday morning, without fail to get coffee at her favorite coffee shop downtown. She would sit there for hours to read a book or simply people-watch from her usual spot by the window. I went as well—discreetly watch her from a distance.

I closed my eyes for a moment, picturing with clarity the way Y/n's beautiful hair was always a slight mess this early in the mornings, still tousled from sleep. The delicate way her pretty lips puckered and pursed when she carefully sipped her steaming hot coffee. The range of fascinating facial expressions she would unconsciously make when something particularly interesting or surprising happened in whatever book she was reading.

Then my thoughts took hold of me and consumed my mind just as they always did without fail. I began to imagine all the things I truly wanted to do to her, all the ways I wanted to touch her. Vivid images of her naked body completely vulnerable and on full display for me—only me—flooded my imagination.

Tied up…vulnerable…spread open

“…Fuck.”

I let out a shuddered, unsteady breath, feeling my cock pulse and strain insistently in my tight jeans. I forced my eyes open with effort to focus back on the street below, deliberately pulling myself back to reality. I wouldn't allow myself the pleasure of release, not yet. I had made a promise to myself that I refused to touch myself until I could finally touch her.

Just as I was about to push away from the window and return to my unpacking, I saw a bright yellow cab pull up to the curb directly in front of the building.

There she was.

I didn't linger even a moment longer at the window. Racing out of my apartment with a clear purpose and determined stride, I got in the elevator, quickly pressing the button for the lobby. Silently hoping and praying she was waiting for this particular elevator and not the other one on the opposite side of the building. I took off her delicate ring from my pinky finger, where it had been resting and carefully slipped it into my pants pocket for safekeeping. Just as the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding and there she was, standing right in front of me.

Perfection…

It took every ounce of self-control I possessed, not to reach out and touch her right then and there. I deliberately cast my eyes down like I was distracted by something and began to walk forward. As we passed one another in that narrow space, my head kept down, her eyes focused on her phone screen, our shoulders gently bumped one another in what appeared to be an accidental collision.

When Y/n looked up suddenly from her phone screen, I could immediately tell she remembered me from a few nights ago in her little bookstore.

"Minho?" Her sweet, melodic voice made goosebumps form instantly on my arms and the back of my neck.

I acted as if I was genuinely confused for a brief moment, looking around as if trying to place her face, but then I faked sudden recognition, letting it dawn on my features. "Oh, the pretty bookshop owner. Y/n, was it?" I asked with feigned uncertainty. That simple compliment got her blushing immediately; a pretty pink flush darkened and spread across her smooth cheeks and her soft lips spread into a shy, adorable smile.

Dear God, how I desperately wanted to fuck that pretty little mouth of hers.

She laughed softly, the sound like music to my ears, and stepped out to the side to let others into the waiting elevator while we talked in the spacious lobby area. "What are you doing here?" she asked curiously, her soft eyes taking me in with interest, studying my face.

I wonder what she thinks of me? What does she see when she looks at me? I couldn't help but think to myself.

Pushing my racing thoughts aside with effort, I ran a hand through my hair in what I hoped was a casual gesture, smirking softly at her. "Moving in, actually. I was about to go get my last box from the truck outside. Do… do you live here?" I asked with careful inflection, asking as if I was genuinely shocked and surprised to find this out, as if this was all just a wonderful coincidence.

Y/n nodded her head in acknowledgment and reached up with one delicate hand to push a loose piece of her wild hair behind her ear in that graceful way she had. "Mhm, I live on the fifth floor. One of the studio apartments up there." She took her bottom lip between her teeth in that nervous gesture she did, that little habit I had noticed and memorized, and it nearly made my knees buckle beneath me from the sheer force of desire it evoked. "What floor are you on?" It was a simple, straightforward question, but the mere fact that she was asking me anything at all, showing interest in me and my life, absolutely delighted me beyond measure.

“I just moved onto the fourth floor. So I guess this means we may be seeing quite a bit more of one another from now on." I took a little step towards her, closing the distance between us slightly, not being able to control the magnetic pull I felt. My fingers were shaking just a bit from the adrenaline and nervous energy coursing through my veins, so I quickly put my hands in my pockets and tried my absolute best to act as relaxed and casual as I possibly could, but internally my heart was pounding rapidly against my ribcage and I felt like my entire body was humming and vibrating with electric energy.

I watched intently as her beautiful eyes lit up with what appeared to be genuine excitement at this revelation. "That's so true. I, um… I was actually going to go upstairs and make some lunch for myself.” Keeping my eyes on her with careful attention, closely observing every little gesture and mannerism. My eyes glued to her intensely, drinking in every detail.

"This may be a little weird, but would you like to come up to my place and eat lunch with me? I'm sure you must be pretty hungry after all that heavy lifting and moving you've been doing." She looked up at me with innocent anticipation written across her features, shifting her weight from one foot to another in an endearing display of nervous energy. I gave her my softest, most genuine smile, a real smile reserved just for her and no one else.

Y/n, what are you doing inviting a stranger into your home..so trusting.. innocent.

"I would really like that very much. Allow me just a brief moment to go get my last box from the truck outside and I'll be right up to join you." Y/n nodded her head and brought that bottom lip back between her teeth, holding it there for a moment before letting it slip through slowly and sensually as her lips gradually spread into my absolute favorite smile of hers. The one that reached all the way up to her eyes, making her eyes crinkle at the corners and almost completely disappear from view.

"I'm in apartment 510. Just come on up whenever you're ready and I'll be waiting."

I nodded in agreement and stood there watching her as she turned and got onto the waiting elevator, and I remained standing there in the lobby watching until she completely disappeared from view. As soon as she was gone and out of sight, I let out a little giggle of pure joy that I couldn't contain. Not caring at all who might be seeing me act like a complete and utter fool in the middle of the lobby — I was going to see the inside of my Y/n's apartment, after all this time.

I would get to see her most intimate and private spaces. The places where she lived, breathed, and existed. My mind already racing ahead and wondering excitedly if I could somehow manage to get ahold of her apartment key to make a copy of it for myself. The thought of having unlimited access to her living space made me smile widely to myself as I practically skipped outside to grab the last remaining box and took it up to my own apartment, my heart soaring with anticipation.

I stood at her door, lifting my hand and knocking lightly on the wooden surface before taking a deliberate step back. The adrenaline coursing rapidly through my veins had me shifting my weight restlessly from one foot to the other; I just couldn't manage to stay still for even a moment. I closed my eyes for a brief second and took a deep, calming breath in an attempt to settle my racing nerves and compose myself.

Then I heard the distinct sound of the door opening and her sweet, melodic voice calling out to me, "Minho, come in!" I opened my eyes slowly, and I could immediately feel my heart rate start to pick up its pace again, beating faster and harder in my chest. Y/n had pulled her beautiful hair back and away from her face, though small delicate pieces were falling loose here and there, framing her features perfectly.

"Thank you so much for the invitation. I really appreciate it." I made sure to be as polite and well-mannered as possible. I may be completely unhinged and obsessed, but manners matter most, always. Slipping off my shoes at the door, I followed her into her apartment. The delicious aromas hit me instantly—something savory and rich, maybe a bit of garlic. Then I began to take in her living space properly. It being a loft apartment, it was completely open and spacious. My eyes scanned the room, and her kitchen was the first thing I saw clearly: a modest setup with dark wood cabinets and sleek black appliances sitting directly across from a dark brown leather couch with matching chairs arranged around a coffee table, all positioned in front of large, impressive windows.

Y/n's bed caught my eye next, positioned against the exposed brick wall on the right side of the room and surrounded by a few carefully chosen pieces of dark furniture. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from smiling too broadly and revealing my true emotions. She liked dark things—darker aesthetics. I could tell by the fact that almost everything here was black or deep, rich brown. Books were stacked high on bookcases and scattered across the floors throughout the space, but it wasn't messy or disorganized.

"So this is my place. It's not huge or anything, but it's cozy and comfortable." She said softly as she led me further into the kitchen area and I eased myself down carefully onto one of the brown leather bar stools at her counter.

"I like it very much. It really fits you and your personality." I mumbled quietly as my eyes followed her closely and intently around the kitchen, tracking her every movement.

She paused for a moment, stopping what she was doing, and a little laugh bubbled out of her naturally. "How would you know what fits me? We literally just met." She gave me a playful, teasing smile and pulled out something from the oven that smelled absolutely incredible and mouth-watering.

"I'm just guessing. I'm a pretty good judge of character, though." I licked my suddenly dry lips nervously and watched intently as she carefully placed rice and colorful vegetables with seasoned chicken on top onto a plate.

"Oh really? Well, how about you judge my cooking skills then?" She set the plate of steaming, aromatic food in front of me on the counter.

It smelled absolutely great and looked even better and more appetizing. This must be something new she was trying; I've never actually seen her cook anything much before during all my observations. "I am trying to learn how to cook properly, but it never really turns out to taste the best, unfortunately." Y/n shrugged her shoulders dismissively and looked over at me with those pretty, bright shining eyes of hers that I loved so much.

"So you want me to sacrifice my taste buds for you and your culinary experiments?" I retorted playfully with a single brow raised at her in mock concern. I noticed her eyes widening a little in surprise and her smooth cheeks turning a light, delicate shade of pink.

"No…? Maybe? I don't know?" I smiled softly and warmly at her and nodded in agreement before taking a pretty hefty, generous bite of the food. I chewed slowly and deliberately, allowing all the different flavors and tastes to flood and overwhelm my senses completely. It wasn't bad by any means at all — actually quite decent — but the rice was definitely undercooked and still a bit firm.

Y/n leaned in closer to me, closing the distance between us just a bit more, and my eyes dropped down immediately to her soft lips as they moved, absolutely mesmerizing to watch… "So? Are you okay? Is it edible? Can it be eaten without causing harm?" She asked in such a genuine, concerned tone that I had to laugh at her innocence and sweetness. If it weren't for this damn wooden bar separating us, I would have leaned over right then and there and planted a firm kiss right on those perfect lips of hers.

"I'm not dying by any means. I promise it's good and edible. You should definitely join me." She gave me a skeptical, doubtful look and a piece of hair fell into her eyes at that very moment, and what I wouldn't give to be able to reach out and pull back that hair with my fingers, fist her hair in my hand, pull her pretty head back, letting me see that delicate neck of hers. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling myself getting a little aroused and worked up just from being this close to her.

"Fine, I'll eat with you, but if we both get food poisoning from this, at least I won't die alone and miserable." My little Y/n grabbed her own plate and moved around the bar to come sit right next to me, close enough that I could smell her scent — sweet with a bit of spice in there. I wondered what she smelled like between those soft thighs of hers. My thoughts were going to fucking kill me one of these days.

After a solid hour or more of eating undercooked rice together and talking extensively about her favorite books and authors, discussing plots and characters, it was finally time for me to go. I had actual work to do with Chris tonight that couldn't wait any longer. I stood up from my seat reluctantly, not wanting to leave her presence. "Thank you again for having me over. I really enjoyed this. I'll be sure to cook for you next time we do this."

I noticed her beautiful eyes light up with genuine excitement and enthusiasm at the offer I was making, and my chest tightened with emotion at her reaction. "Yes, I would love that! Maybe you can teach me something useful since you did mention earlier that you're a pretty good cook." I nodded in agreement enthusiastically, then began to follow her slowly towards the door, not wanting this moment to end. I hadn't gotten a copy of her key yet and I absolutely couldn't leave without that damn key; I needed it.

"Y/n, um, do you mind at all if I use your bathroom quickly before I leave?" I prayed internally that wasn't an odd or suspicious request to make when my apartment was literally just downstairs, but I saw her keys sitting out on her coffee table and I had to walk past that table to get to her bathroom — it was the perfect opportunity.

Y/n didn't hesitate at all or question my request. Being the sweet, trusting girl that she is, she nodded her head. "Sure, of course you can. I'll wait for you in the kitchen." With a soft, grateful thanks, I slowly walked towards her bathroom with measured steps, casting a quick, careful glance over my shoulder to make absolutely sure she had her back turned to me and wasn't watching. Y/n was occupied putting some dishes in her dishwasher, so I quickly and quietly swiped her keys from the table and headed into her bathroom with them concealed in my hand.

Once inside the bathroom and the door locked securely behind me, I hastily took out my little container of molding putty that I had prepared earlier and pressed her key firmly into it forcefully, making absolutely sure to get a good, clear imprint that would work for making a duplicate. I then flushed the toilet for authenticity and washed my hands thoroughly, casually strolling out of the bathroom while leaving her keys strategically on her bathroom counter where she would find them and assume she had left them there herself. Smirking to myself with satisfaction, I walked back out to where Y/n was waiting for me in the kitchen. Her back was still to me as she finished loading the dishwasher, completely oblivious to what I had just accomplished.

"All set?" She turned around and gave me that beautiful smile again, the one that made my heart race uncontrollably.

"Yeah, all good. Thank you again for everything." I moved toward the door, forcing myself to leave even though every fiber of my being wanted to stay. "I'll be seeing you soon.” My eyes staying locked on hers the entire time.

"See you around, Minho." She waved at me sweetly as I stepped out into the hallway, and waited until I heard the click of her door closing before I allowed myself to fully smile.

Walking down the hallway toward the elevator, I pulled out the container with her key impression and stared at it.

Perfect.

My phone buzzed in my pocket—a text from Chris asking where the hell I was.

Right, work.

I had almost forgotten about the real world outside of Y/n's orbit. Sighing, I stepped into the elevator and headed down to my own apartment to grab what I needed for tonight. But my mind was already planning my next visit to apartment 510.

Pics: Pinterest, All credit goes to respective owners

Taglist: @snow-flake-writes @barbie-girl84 @nvuueas @skepticalvoidhedgehog

[jisurary]

The way I keep screaming in my head "God, don't let Y/N be so close with Minho because he's started to creep me out...like a ton—"

At first, I was scared to start reading this series but now (so far) I'm enjoying it!

[imfoive]

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

BANG CHAN x READER GENRE: Fiancé!Chan, Angst, Unreliable Narrator WARNINGS: mentions of depression, death, grief, somewhat proofread WC: 0.6k A/N: late night word vomit becomes my misery. don’t hate me lol 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝! ── MASTERLIST

────────────────────────༅

The sun-rays are too bright, too warm on your skin. The morning light, just enough to rouse you awake from your slumber, though you don’t dare open your eyes, not quite ready to part from dreamland.

You hear the shuffling loud amidst the quiet of the bedroom. Slippers against the floorboards, Chan’s breathy laugh. The bed dips on his side, and you snuggle further into the pillows.

“Good morning, love. It’s time to get up.” He hums, his fingers running against the stray hairs on your face.

His skin is warm, like the sunlight that hits your skin. Filtering through the curtain drawn windows Chan pulled open. A gentle caress that you melt into, that has him giggle aloud. He smells like his cologne, the woodsy, floral tinged one that he wears more often than any other fragrance. He must be ready already, you think, though you can’t get your eyes to open and see for yourself.

You don’t want to wake up.

“Baby, you have to meet Changbin later, remember?” He voices, tone just a tad bit louder to get you talking.

“I always have to meet Changbin later. He hovers too much.” You finally murmur a whine, voice raspy and sleep-laden.

Chan laughs again, the bed moving just the slightest, sheets ruffling just a little more lumpy as he drapes himself over your back.

“He has to.” Chan hums. “He’s looking out for you. He’s a good friend.” 

The sun-rays no longer warm your skin, the clouds are hiding the sun away for a moment, you think. Shadows casting over your closed lids.

Your brows pinch, eyes still shut.

“I don’t want to.” You croak.

“You can’t stay here forever, baby.” Chan’s voice is gentle.

The kind of tone he uses to get you to open your eyes, easily breaking through your stubborn reluctance.

“Can’t I? Please?” Your voice finally cracks just the slightest.

“You can’t.” His lips press warm against the back of your neck.

You feel the tears glide down your temples, but you don’t dare open your eyes. A whimper, a whine, a sound that echoes in your own ears.

“I’ll see you again soon.” You finally whisper.

Chan’s smiles against your skin, inhaling deeply as he mumbles his usual “I’ll be waiting here.”

Though he says you can’t stay with him, you try to grab onto him a little tighter.

Just for a moment, just before your eyes flicker open, wet and bleary. From the sleep, from the tears.

The room is empty, quiet. The sun-rays that warmed you in your dreams covered behind the curtains that were never pulled open.

The sheets rustle as you sit up, wiping at your face as you sniffle. 

Changbin shows up at your door, the smile on his face is bright, though his brows furrow with a flash of concern. You had plans, you always have plans. Your late-fiancé’s best friend, now yours, doing anything and everything to keep your mind occupied. Present.

You don’t blame him though. You daydream a lot, lost gaze staring at the sky, the cars that pass through the street as you sit in a cafe. 

You listen to Chan. Go about your day, run your errand. You talk to your mom more hours in a day than you had ever before. You write in your journal. Write about your day, the small accomplishments that mean nothing but everything at once. You write a letter, words penned to Chan. Sealed entries he’ll never see, never read. A thought that makes you panic for a moment before you soothe yourself with the thought that you’ll just tell him about it when you see him again.

Your days go by quickly, and once again you find yourself in Chan’s arms. 

Sunlight cast down as shadows, you daydream.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ e n d .

[jisurary]

Ehem...I know I say it to myself, let's read something angsty to prepare myself to write, AND I KNOW READING YOUR FIC WILL EXACTLY MAKE ME CRY

But I don't expect my heart will shatter this easily because of this😭🥲 YOU CAN'T— you can't just do that Hana😭😭😭

I'm sleeping with tears tonight, goodnight 🥲

[emmiesoverthemoon]

vampire hyunjin drabble. est. relationship, kissing, literally just fluff. he’s a nervous little guy, let him be. based on this tweet

it didn’t take you long to realise hyunjin, your beloved vampire, had never fed on human blood like his biological instincts told him to. when you had offered yourself up for the feed, he didn’t admit to his inexperience, but the way his eyes shifted to anywhere but your form standing across from him, or his fingers twisting in themselves fidgeting nervously, told you plenty.

he might not be able to see his own reflection, but you could see him perfectly.

instead of vocalising his worries, he kissed you like he was trying not to startle you; slowly and carefully. his hands were warm where they rested at your waist, thumbs tracing small, nervous shapes like he needs something to do with them.

he made this quiet little whine-like sound when you pulled him closer by his collar, all flustered, and you swore it was the cutest thing you’d ever heard.

“i just thought,” he mumbled against your mouth, words a little messy, “that if we kissed first it’d feel… nicer. less scary.”

“you’re already doing great,” you told him, kissing him again just to prove it.

that seemed to help. he relaxed a bit, pressed into you more, hands warm and confident at your waist. when you finally pulled apart, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing a little too fast like he just ran a marathon instead of made out for thirty seconds.

then his eyes flicked to your neck, and immediately away again. his energy yelled nervous, but his eyes told you the whole story: he was desperate for a taste.

you tilted your head without saying anything, offering your neck up like it’s no big deal. to you, it wasn’t. the second he noticed, he froze completely.

he stepped closer anyway, movements slow and hesitant. when he lifted his hand, it just… hovers there. you could actually see it shaking now.

“you good?” you ask, trying not to smile too hard.

he laughed, embarrassed. “i feel like i should be way cooler about this.”

“you’re absolutely not cool ever,” you teased. “so i wouldn’t expect it now. but it’s kinda cute.”

he groaned softly, lips forming a pout over his fangs. “please don’t call me cute right now.”

he leaned in. paused. his lips hover over your neck longer than they should—

and instead of biting, he kissed it, right on your pulse. it was so featherlight that you thought he had forgot the plan entirely.

you let out a laugh before you could stop yourself. “did you seriously just—”

he pulled back instantly, panicking. “i’m sorry, i swear i was going to bite, i just— you smelled really good and i blanked.”

“wow,” you gasped sarcastically. “i’m really scared...”

he looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

you reached up, took his wrist to steady him. you brought his hand up to caress your jaw, to which you leant into and kissed his palm. “hey. it’s okay. you can take your time. we can do this another time even.”

“no i want to, it’s just my….” he sighed, clearly embarrassed, “it’s my first time.”

“i can tell, hyunnie”

his head snapped up, eyes wide as saucers, “how?”

“for someone who has so much time under his belt, you sure are aloof. i know you.”

he sighed again, edged with an embarrassed groan. the humiliation made no move to subside. however, he felt determined nonetheless, so he leant in again—slower this time, and more sure. when he finally bit, it was gentle, almost careful, like he was worried about hurting you even now.

he loved the taste of iron as it flooded his mouth. how had he missed out on this rush this whole time? it was like life itself flooded every crevice of his mouth, flowing down his throat and rejuvenating his body. he knew in that moment he’d be addicted to the taste as soon as he sunk his fangs to your skin.

when he (reluctantly) pulled back, eyes seemingly glowing, wide and still very shy, he licked the drip that leaked from his lips. a little dazed, you grinned at him.

“you know,” your eyes flicked over his flustered face, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone, “if this was all just an excuse to kiss my neck, you could’ve said that.”

he hid his face in your shoulder, mortified.

“i’m never feeding again,” he mumbled.

you hold him there, still grinning, “oh i’m sure.”

first work of 2026, a small sweet hyunjin drabble to tide you guys while i escape writer’s block rut🙏pleas enjoy

also idk if i should taglist little drabbles like this bc its literally so short and so nothing😩what do yall usually do/what should i do

[jisurary]

THIS.THIS AFTER A LONG SHIFT AT WORK IS EVERYTHING I NEED. BDJSJSJSJSH IT'S SOOOOO ADORABLE SHUT UP 😭😭😭😭

The way he hesitated and hiding himself just hdjsjsjsjssjb🫠🫠

[keeperofasecretsecret]

Handmade Joy Pt.1

Changbin x Reader

✩Strangers to lovers.✩

WARNINGS: mentions of depression

SUMMARY: If the world wasn't going to bring positivity to you. You'll have to make it on your own.

Note: This turned into something longer than I anticipated. Curse you tumblr and your image limit!! Part two is coming later today :) As Always please ignore any mistakes or inaccuracies. If you saw them no you did not 🙂‍↔️ I am doing these for a silly goofy time and they are not meant to be taken seriously.

Bang Chan | Lee Know | Changbin Pt. 2 | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | I.N

✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*

Main Masterlist | Changbin's Masterlist

✧✿✧ Tag List: @conscientiousmenace @vxyselectric @geni-627 @book-mark @eos-princess @teffyx @lucilferz @s1lverroses @nixwolfe @mikachux3 ✧✿✧

[jisurary]

Ugh ugh UGHHHHHHHHHH, THE EPITOME OF CUTENESS, I NEED TO MELT INTO A PUDDLE!

Thank you for making me feel much better with this. Uni's life is weird and exhausted :/.

[keeperofasecretsecret]

I love Minho I MEAN MANGO!

Lee Know x Reader

✩Strangers to lovers.✩

WARNINGS: none

SUMMARY: When an unknown number reaches out then blocks you you decide to use the space as a personal reminder. Until suddenly you get a reply.

Note: please ignore any mistakes or inaccuracies. If you saw them no you did not 🙂‍↔️ I am doing these for a silly goofy time and they are not meant to be taken seriously.

Bang Chan | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | I.N

✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙* ✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*

Main Masterlist | Lee Know's Masterlist

✧✿✧ Tag List: @conscientiousmenace @vxyselectric @geni-627 @book-mark @eos-princess @teffyx @lucilferz ✧✿✧

[jisurary]

🤍🤍🤍 going to sleep after reading this🤍🤍

[minhomocha]

Fallout

Pairing: Idol Bang Chan X Makeup Artist Reader

Synopsis: Most people think being a makeup artist for someone famous would be cool and fun. So did you at the beginning, until you fell for him. Since his status as an idol you and Chan had to keep your relationship under wraps. But it was becoming too much, seeing the way people reacted to your boyfriend. Maybe a falling out was in order...

Warnings: Angst, Secret relationship, Mental struggles, Fluff,

Fallout: The excess powder of makeup, Or a failing relationship.

Once upon a time you loved your job.

Though time had passed, things had changed, and now your job was the source for your declining mental state.

You loved being able to be so close to Chan without anyone asking questions. No one would bat an eye at a makeup artist leaning a little too close to their employer.

No one would suspect you were in a relationship with said idol.

Your boyfriend and his group were about to perform on stage. A unreleased song they were going to show the fans attending for the first time. So of course they had to look perfect.

Applying a slight amount of eyeshadow you remember the stylists words, not any bold colors that make it obvious just enough to define the eyes. You spread a color similar to his skin tone over his eyes lids making the shape more noticeable.

Usually Chan would be making small talk, inconspicuous talk that no one would assume you had a closer relationship than you did. He must have noticed your mood because he was silent.

You carefully and gently wiped the fallout off and dusted a light amount of pink blush over his cheeks. He stayed still under your touch but you could feel his eyes surveying you.

"What's wrong?" He finally asked.

Holding back a sigh you responded in a neutral tone. "Im fine."

A scoff escaped his lips that you had been instructed to leave alone.

"I know you better than that. Be honest please." A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled it away from where you were fixing his blush. It was a touch that was too personal and you were lucky everyone was too busy with the last minute details to notice.

You linked and shook your head. "You're about to go on stage. Worry about yourself not me."

"Worrying about you is my job." You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to say more but someone was calling for the members.

"See you during your break." You gave him your best reassuring smile but Chan wasn't convinced.

Off he went to perform on stage In front of thousands of fans.

It was your job to doll him up for those fans, fans that fawned and thirsted over your boyfriend. Not knowing he was taken, but would that change it? Would they see you unworthy for their precious leader?

Chan was so much more than you, it was still a shock he had asked you out. It was the fans and companies fault you couldn't be happy in your own relationship.

You knew most fans would be happy for Chan, but there were always the ones that would make it their personal mission to make your existence miserable.

And hearing the screams wasn't helping.

Ever since being with Chan you took every stay as a threat to yourself. Not that you hated stay you were daunted by the possibility that one slip up and one of them would notice something and rumors would bloom like a wildfire.

And the hate towards you would begin.

A nothing makeup artist dating an idol? That simply would not do.

It was truly none of anyone's business who Chan or any idol dated but people were nosy and loved to stick their nose in business it didn't belong in.

What would Chan receive if they found out he was dating you?

He would surely receive comments about how you didn't deserve him and he should do better. Would it ruin his career?

You felt like your relationship was suffocating you.

When it was Chan's break he made a beeline towards you under the guise he needed a touch up but he really just wanted to get you to talk to him. Pulling you into a dressing room he turned to face you concern etched into his features.

"Tell me what's wrong please."

"Chan it's too much." You admitted.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What is?"

"Our relationship." Your voice broke as you saw the pain in his eyes. "I can't hold a secret like this. I'm constantly afraid of someone finding out. Its best if we don't have to worry about it."

"Hey... think about what you're saying. Do you really want to break up?" Of course Chan was hurting, but he was more focused on taking away yours.

"No, I love you. But I don't know what else to do."

"It's clear you're overwhelmed but this is the anxiety and nerves talking. I can't let you make any rash decisions you could grow to regret later." Chan said softly pulling you into a hug. "If you need to cry please cry into me. Let me handle your tears and lessen the weight of your pain."

His words caused the tears to flow. A hand rubbed your back comfortingly while a voice murmured into your ear.

"I love you so much and I can't lose you just because your mind hates you. Stay with me and I'll figure something out. Whether that means taking even more precautions or telling the company about us. If you're not ready for the public to know about us it's fine. We can take this at your pace."

How could you leave him when he was like this?

"And I'll let you know right now, I don't give a fuck what anyone has to say about us okay?" He assured you pulling back to cup your face. "You're mine no matter what anyone says. They can't change my mind you already have my heart."

Placing a soft kiss to your forehead he whispered against your skin.

"We'll get through this okay? But I'm not letting you do it alone."

[jisurary]

✨Welcome to my another midnight reading ✨

Honestly, I was nervous to how this story will end and LUCKILY, it ended without breaking my heart to pieces(this is a sign of a goodnight sleep!). My heart is feeling fuzzy and loved by this (idk how that happens—)

[imfoive]

Love Notes

Lee Minho x Reader (fem.) Genre: Established Relationship au!, Fluff Warnings: suggestive, somewhat proofread WC: 0.6k A/N: Here’s a late night snippet that turned into something fluffy :) Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

────────────────────────༅

It was a habit of his.

Jotting down words he couldn’t really say out loud. Instead he’s tear a piece of paper he’d find. A napkin, a card, scribbling whatever thoughts that raced through his head.

That’s how it all began.

When Minho’s eyes would rake over the love of his life, taking in the sight that was her, inhaling silently, overwhelmed by words that refused to come out.

Instead staring at Y/N in fascination.

When he was too shy to voice out that she looked breathtaking, actually rendering him speechless.

That the dress fit her so well, the color brought out her eyes.

The style suit her well.

That he loved how she looked. Loved her.

Words he couldn’t say out loud without stumbling over them, without his ears, his cheeks turning red and hot.

So he scribbled them down.

The note was passed with a nonchalant handover, avoiding her confused gaze as she took it, like passing secret notes in school. He acted as if nothing was amiss, waiting for her to read.

Of course her confused expression doesn’t last. Her eyes flitting over his handwriting, her lips thinning into a smile. Seeing which he smiles pleasingly as well.

   “Thank you.” Y/N whispered, already reaching out, tugging at his arms to brush her lips over his warm cheeks.

It became a shared habit almost instantaneously. They felt like kids, once again, giggling and laughing as they scribbled down their thoughts.

Notes filled with compliments.

Words that made them blush. Their hearts hammer in their chest.

Some words were mischievous, one that would make him raise an eyebrow at her playful suggestions. His eyes glancing between her and her scribbles. His lips would morph into that smirk he reserved for moments when he knew he wouldn’t let her leave the bedroom until she was satisfied. The kind of smirk she loved seeing.

His fingers easily lacing around her wrist to pull her into their room, the door shutting with a loud thud.

Their love notes littered the space. The post-it notes on the refrigerator, next to the list of household items and groceries they needed to buy and re-stock, even more scribbles at the bottom, were all filled with warm messages.

That two page letter Minho wrote one night, feeling guilty after coming home too late. On a day where Y/N had no plans besides staying in, staying with him. But ultimately had fallen asleep from boredom because he couldn’t slip out easily from his own responsibilities.

That letter, full of apologies and compliments, was tucked into her box of cherished items. Words that he couldn’t bring himself to voice out loud, yet easily poured them into the page, each word making her heart swell bigger than it was.

   “How lucky I am…”

   “You’re the greatest thing that happened to me…”

   “I’m sorry I don’t say this enough…”

He could have gone on and on about everything he loved about her, how special she made him feel. How much she deserves the moon, the stars, and everything shiny in the sky. But some words were meant to be shared aloud.

Like the ones he whispered into her ear as he cradled her in his embrace, settling comfortably under the sheets. His lips brushed softly against her hair, lingering with gentle kisses atop her forehead. As he pulled her flush against him, her body heat radiating and warming him.

The words easily slip out of his lips.

   “I love you...”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ end.

[jisurary]

EHEM, EHEM HANA WHO GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO MAKE ME BLUSH AND KICKING UNDER THE MATTRESS LIKE A MANIAC IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT😭😭😭 (if only I had that meme where the character was chewing its' pillow aggressively :[) This is heart-wrenching in a good way ------> now I can write some fluff fics 🥹🥹

Howeverrrr, I can relate to Minho A LOT because at this point I don't know many small letters I wrote in my diary to my best friends and my loved ones— because truth, I'm too shy to say those words out loud—

This felt like it would fit in a teen romance movie I'm not kidding. Just imagine✨✨ This is a good night read and also the best way to relax after my long trip today. I'll put that in my daily routine "reading your fic before going to sleep".🤍🤍🤍