bun's den

he/him born: 1992 may

[leezanetheofficial]

Requests

i am officially taking requests as i hope that by doing this it will help me find inspiration to continue writing my story that i'm procrastinating on finishing.

the groups that i will do are BTS and Stray Kids, for now though i ask that all requests be for male readers as that is what i'm most comfortable writing for. you can also ask for member x member!

also just for now i will only be doing sfw as i'm not that confident in my nsfw writing 😅

[bbluekari]

FOX’S WARMTH

Y.JEONGIN x M!READER [MASTERLIST]

authors note: i saw the skz movie :3

summary: req

story warnings: short, tiny little breakdown(?), a little rushed, maknae reader

wc: 849

You were Jeongin’s shadow.
Wherever he went, you were always there, half a step behind, sometimes clinging to his arm, sometimes hanging off his back like you belonged there. Literally.

Several clips of you two during the DominATE tour had gone viral. Like the second night one in London, when you fully launched yourself onto his back without warning. A fan’s phone caught everything: the startled, embarrassingly high yelp that burst out of Jeongin as he caught you on instinct, cheeks flushing bright red as you laughed into his shoulder like it was nothing.

And it wasn’t just a stage thing.
Yang Jeongin’s one and only dongsaeng was hopelessly infatuated with him.

And Jeongin, though he tried very hard to hide it, was too.

“Y/n,” he muttered now, voice sleepy and fond despite himself, “seriously. Get up. Chan hyung’s gonna yell at us if we don’t leave soon.”

Your head was resting perfectly on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. You responded with a quiet, pitiful whine, fingers curling in his shirt like you might drift away without it.

Jeongin barely lasted a second.

He sighed, long and defeated.
“Fine. Fine,” he said softly. “You’re taking the blame then, doll.”

He ignored the way you smiled into his neck, even though it made his chest feel warm.

Most days, Jeongin did everything he could to dodge the maknae-shaped cuddle bug glued to his side. Like last week, when he’d locked you out of his room, leaving you in the hallway with a pout that could’ve broken hearts.

“Aww,” Felix cooed as he rounded the corner. “What happened, baby? Yeni lock you out again?”

You nodded sadly.
“He loves it,” you said, “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Felix laughed, ruffling your hair as he passed.
“Don’t think it works like that, sunbeam. Good luck though.”

On the rare occasions your antics stopped, Jeongin thought he liked those days best.

But this week had been awful.

Monday was the worst guitar lesson of your life. A snapped guitar string whipping against your cheek mid-practice. Tuesday consisted of endless dance practice. Wednesday was full of forgetting choreography until Minho’s words cut too deep. Thursday should’ve gone without a hitch, not a performance you couldn’t stop replaying in your head. Voice cracks, missteps, humiliation.
Friday was a rest day.

You thought tea would fix it.

Mug.
Water.
Teabag.

Then the spoon slipped.

That tiny clatter broke something open inside you. You retreated to your room before the tears could spill into shared space, curling in on yourself as your thoughts turned sharp and cruel.

Too much.
Too clingy.
Annoying.

Mistakes from years ago resurfaced. Hate comments echoed louder than they ever should have. Your mind scolded you. ‘stop crying, you’re fine, you just want attention.’ But your body didn’t listen.

The tears came anyway.

A few hours later, Jeongin paused outside your door.

The sniffles were faint, barely there.

After a moment of hesitation, he opened the door.

You didn’t even notice until arms wrapped around you, firm and warm, lifting you until you were seated. You looked up with a broken breath, eyes red and swollen.

Jeongin’s heart sank.

He pulled you into his chest immediately, one hand rubbing slow, steady circles into your back, the other resting protectively atop your head. He didn’t speak, nor did you.

He just held you.

Your breathing slowly evened out, your tears soaking into his shirt as his warmth anchored you. When the sobs finally softened, he spoke quietly.

“You okay?”

You nodded and tried to pull back.

Jeongin didn’t let you.

“M’sorry,” you whispered. “For being clingy. And-and overbearing—”

Your voice cracked again.

Jeongin frowned, pulling back just enough to look at you.
“What? No,” he said firmly. “I like it. I really do.”

He tugged you back into his arms, settling you between his legs so your back rested against his chest. One arm wrapped around your waist, the other coming up to cradle your head against his shoulder.

“Stop thinking so much,” he murmured near your ear. “None of this is your fault. Minho was too harsh. And nobody cared about Thursday. I swear.”

He rocked you gently, back and forth, like it was instinct.
“And those people online?” he added quietly. “They don’t know you. They don’t know us. They’re just parasitic, pathetic incels projecting their own insecurities onto the best boy I know.”

Your hands clutched his sleeves.
“Please don’t let go.”

Jeongin tightened his arms around you immediately, chin resting on the top of your head.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly.

He adjusted the blanket around you both, tucking it over your shoulders, his thumb brushing slow, absent-minded patterns along your arm. You could feel his breathing, steady and grounding, matching yours until your body finally stopped shaking.

You shifted slightly, and Jeongin followed the movement without complaint, letting you curl closer until you were practically folded into him.

“That better?” he asked quietly.

You nodded, eyes already heavy.

He pressed a gentle, lingering kiss into your hair. 
“Sleep,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

TAGLIST: @wonroha , @airheadsaysbulaga , @bunbun34 , @niku0704 , @sharky01236 @cherrybb-ily , @d4ily-s-nsh1ne , @eternal-stay , @riselazarus-s

[dividers @/strangergraphics]

[leezanetheofficial]

aww this was really sweet and a great thing to come back to!

[james-is-here]

tiny cat hybrid Minho (like 5'3 or smth) and big gentle dom owner

😭😭😭😭

𝐻𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝐼𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝒶 𝒫𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒, 𝐼𝓉’𝓈 𝒶 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝓈𝑜𝓃

Pairing: Cat Hybrid!Minho x Owner Mn

Tags & CW: Hybrid AU, BoyPuss Minho, smut, Minho in heat, Dom\Sub, mentioned past neglect, size difference\kink, praise, lots of purring, Min be small, tail play, found family vibes?, aftercare, they're mated your honor, breeding kink if you squint, Lmk if I forget anything

Red line means smut

Minho had never been anyone’s first choice.

He was too small. Too quiet. Too hesitant. Most humans looking for cat hybrids wanted playful, vocal companions. Ones who would curl in their lap and purr on cue. Ones who didn’t flinch when touched.

Minho flinched.

Barely five-foot-three and as wiry as a house cat stuck between kittenhood and adulthood, Minho didn’t take up much space. But his presence was often treated like a burden. Owners giving up within a week or two, frustrated by how long it took him to trust.

Then Mn walked into the shelter.

Big. Calm. With soft brown eyes, arms that looked like they could bench press a truck, and a voice that rumbled like distant thunder but somehow still felt warm.

And he didn’t ask to see the “affectionate” hybrids.

He knelt by Minho’s crate instead, one knee to the floor, forearms resting on his thighs, and said, “You look tired, sweetheart. Mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

Minho blinked. Ears angled forward, tail curled around his feet.

He didn’t move. But he didn’t back away, either. That was all the answer Mn needed and he took Minho home that day.

Mn's house wasn’t extravagant, but it was quiet. Safe. The scent of cedarwood and warm spices lingered in every corner. There was a hybrid nook set up in the living room. Pillows, soft blankets, a heating pad, and a little plush strawberry toy big enough to hug.

Minho didn’t touch it the first few nights. He curled in a corner of Mn's bedroom instead, knees to chest, wrapped in the hoodie Mn had left folded on the floor near him.

Mn didn’t try to coax him. He simply said goodnight, turned off the lights, and left the door cracked open in case Minho needed to leave.

By the end of the week, Minho had started curling up on the floor beside Mn’s legs when he worked on the couch. Not touching. Just… being close.

Mn always acknowledged him with a soft “Hey there, kitty,” and let him be.

By the third week, Minho started chirping when Mn came home.

Just soft, little squeaks in the back of his throat, involuntary and warm. His tail would flick behind him, and his ears would twitch when Mn bent to take off his boots.

“You missed me?” Mn would ask with a smile.

Minho would flush and look away. But the chirps would continue and Mn never made him feel embarrassed for them.

The first time Mn touched him was by request.

They were watching a documentary, and Minho had slowly inched closer, inch by inch, until he was pressed to Mn’s side, blanket pooled in his lap. Mn’s arm was draped along the back of the couch, not touching, just… there.

Minho’s voice was barely a whisper. “Can you… pet me?”

Mn looked down at him, his expression gentle. “Yeah, baby. Where?”

Minho hesitated. “…My ears.”

Mn’s hand was big, warm, and calloused and steady as he cupped the side of Minho’s head, scratching gently behind one ear, letting his fingers drift down to stroke the soft fur where it met his scalp.

Minho purred for the first time. Loud. Uncontrolled.

Mn only smiled. “That’s my good kitten.”

The next few weeks were full of quiet milestones.

Minho started eating full meals. Letting Mn brush out his tail after baths. Curling in Mn’s lap in the morning sunlight, eyes heavy with sleep, tucked under one of his oversized hoodies.

They started sleeping in the same bed. Not tangled together, not yet. But Minho would shuffle closer at night. Sometimes he’d fall asleep with his nose pressed to Mn’s collarbone.

And Mn… Mn let him. Held him gently. Never took more than Minho offered.

Until one day, everything changed.

It started with a scent.

Thicker. Sweeter. Lingering on Minho’s skin and in his hoodie.

Mn noticed the shift one morning when Minho came into the kitchen flushed, hugging his tail to his chest, eyes glassy.

“Kitten?” Mn had murmured. “You alright?”

Minho didn’t answer. But he didn’t run, either.

Later that night, Mn found him in bed, curled on top of the blankets, thighs pressed together, face buried in a pillow that smelled like Mn.

“Are you in heat?” Mn asked softly from the doorway.

Minho whimpered. “Didn’t mean to bother you-”

“You’re not,” Mn said instantly, voice firm but tender. “You’re not a bother, Min. This is normal. It’s okay.”

Minho’s eyes welled with tears. “It hurts,” he whispered. “I feel… empty. Ache-y. But I-I don’t want a heat suppressant, they make me feel weird.”

Mn crossed the room slowly, sat beside him, cupping his flushed cheek in one hand. “You don’t have to take one. But if you don’t… you’ll need help riding it out.”

Minho nodded, eyes wide.

“You want my help?” Mn asked, thumb brushing along the edge of Minho’s jaw.

Minho whispered, “Please.”

"You want my cock?" Mn asked in a deep whisper, leaning in close. "P-Please, Sir~" "Alright, Kitty." Mn said, kissing the corner of his lips.

A few minutes later, Minho was trembling under Mn’s touch.

Not from fear but anticipation. Heat. Every nerve ending humming with need.

Mn kissed down his chest slowly, letting Minho undress at his own pace, helping when Minho’s fingers shook too hard. Minho’s body was plush in the thighs, soft in the hips, slick already dripping between his folds as Mn coaxed his legs open.

“You’re gorgeous, kitten,” Mn murmured, kissing the inside of one knee. “My sweet baby. Gonna take care of you.”

Minho mewled, high-pitched and needy, hips canting upward as Mn licked into his heat with broad, deliberate strokes. He cried out when Mn sucked gently on his clit, hips trembling, slick coating his inner thighs.

“So sensitive, so sweet,” Mn groaned, voice strained with restraint. “You want my cock, baby? Want me to fill you up?”

Minho’s eyes were watery. “Please, I need it~ I need you inside-”

Mn pressed in slow. Inch by inch into slick heat. Stretching him, warming him, watching Minho’s mouth fall open in helpless pleasure.

“That’s it,” Mn breathed. “So good for me, kitten. Taking it all, aren’t you, baby?”

Minho sobbed and nodded, wrapping his legs around Mn’s waist. “Yours. Only yours.”

“Mine,” Mn growled, thrusting deep and slow. “My kitten. My sweet boy.”

Their bodies moved together like a wave. Minho arching, gasping, moaning Mn’s name in whimpers. Mn held him close, his left hand bracing himself next to Minho's hip. Minho's tail wrapped around that arm, Mn's hand gently closing around the limb and pulling slightly right as he thrusted deep and Minho yelped with a moan as his tail tightened around Mn's arm.

“Right there~!” Minho gasped, shuddering. “Gonna- gonna cum- !”

“Do it, baby,” Mn groaned, right hand reaching down to thumb at his clit. “Let me feel you.”

Minho came hard, clenching around Mn’s cock, crying out so sweetly Mn nearly followed him then and there. But he didn’t. He slowed down, rocked through the aftershocks, and waited until Minho was clinging again, needing more, needing filled, needing all of Mn.

And he gave it to him. Again. And again. Until Minho was limp and fucked-out in his arms, still purring between hiccupped breaths.

Aftercare was everything.

Warm cloths. Soft praise. Water with a straw. A hoodie pulled gently over Minho’s body while Mn tucked blankets around him and ran slow fingers over his scalp.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Mn whispered.

Minho nodded weakly, curling closer into Mn’s chest. “Feels like I’m floating.”

Mn chuckled. “That’s the oxytocin. You’re high on cuddles.”

Minho giggled, purring louder. “…I love you.”

Mn blinked. Then kissed his forehead, long and slow.

“I love you too, kitten. More than anything.”

Weeks later, Minho wore Mn’s scent like a crown. He nosed at his collar when they hugged. Wore his t-shirts like dresses. Let Mn scent his collar with a deep kiss to the side of his throat.

They started calling each other partners. Then lovers. Then mates.

And every so often, Minho would ask with a quiet, fluttering look, “Still yours?”

Mn would kiss him breathless every time.

“Forever.”

I do hope this is acceptable. Don't know what it is but hey it's boy puss, can't say no to that

Tags: @forever-atiny@lemon--shark@leezanetheofficial@belladonna6-6-6@heartbinn@yongbokkk@dontwannaexsist@xxtrasht1gerxx@leeyasuojihan@laviedemamere@dis-trict9

[leezanetheofficial]

LOVE THIS!! GLAD THAT I SAW THIS!! I NEED MORE!!!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Cross My Heart, I Didn't Love You

Bangchan x Gn!Reader

<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3

The words left his mouth too easily. Too quickly. Too carelessly.

"I don’t feel that way about you."

There wasn’t a hesitation, not even a pause to consider the weight of what he was saying.

It was final.

A death sentence to the hope that had been blooming inside of you for years.

You knew you shouldn't have confessed. You knew, but knowing didn't stop the ache spreading through your chest like a wildfire you couldn't put out.

It took you a moment before you could swallow. Hard. "Oh."

Just that. Oh.

What else could you say?

You thought you'd cry, thought the ground would crack open and swallow you whole, but all you could do was stare at him.

At the face you had loved for so long.

The eyes that held galaxies but not you.

The lips that had spoken so softly to you, teasing you, laughing with you, making you believe- making you think - that maybe, just maybe, you had a chance.

Chan shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. "I-I'm sorry. I didn’t mean to-"

"You did," you cut in. Your voice was steady surprisingly, even though your world was crumbling. "You meant it. And that's okay. I just...I just needed to hear it."

Chan frowned, looking like he wanted to say something, but what was left to say?

What could he possibly offer you now?

Nothing much, if anything at all.

"We're okay?"

You nodded.

Chan couldn't think of anything so he blurted the first thing that came to his mind.

"Cross your heart?"

"And hope to die." You mumbled quietly, biting back the tears at the truth in those childish words.

You wanted to be swallowed whole. You felt humiliated.

But Chan couldn't do anything about that.

And you knew that.

So you did the only thing you could do.

You smiled. Forced. Hollow.

"It’s getting late. I should go."

He didn’t stop you. Didn’t reach for your hand or ask you to stay.

And that was how you knew.

There had never been anything to hold onto in the first place.

You didn’t cry until you were alone in your apartment, in the suffocating silence of a place that suddenly felt too big and too empty.

You had spent years orbiting around him, letting him be the gravity that pulled you in, and now- now there was nothing.

Just a vast, aching void where something warm used to be.

Your fingers trembled as you reached for your phone, for the thread of messages filled with inside jokes, late-night ramblings, voice notes of him humming random melodies he was working on. You stared at his contact name, thumb hovering over the chat before you pressed down.

You’re still my best friend, right?

You deleted it before you could send it.

Because you already knew the answer he was going to give.

And a part of you realized that the answer he would have given, would just mess up your equation.

Chan...didn’t think much of it at first.

The confession, the way you left-

It was awkward, sure, but he figured things would go back to normal.

You were strong. Resilient.

You had always been able to brush things off, so he convinced himself you’d bounce back and your friendship would be back to normal.

But then you didn’t.

The next day, you didn’t reply to his texts.

The next week, you were suddenly "too busy" to hang out.

The next month, you started pulling away, and Chan- idiot that he was- thought it was just temporary.

That you just needed space.

Then came the excuses. The half-hearted responses. The messages left on read.

And for the first time, he started to feel something close to regret.

It hit him during one of the late nights at the studio, the kind of night where exhaustion blurred the edges of his thoughts, making everything feel heavier.

He had just finished mixing a track when he caught himself opening his phone, out of habit, scrolling to your contact.

He paused. The last message was weeks ago.

Hope you're doing okay. We should hang out soon. Miss you.

Unread.

Chan sighed, rubbing his hands down his face. He didn’t understand it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You two were supposed to laugh it off, move past it.

You two were supposed to still be us.

But you weren’t.

And he was starting to realize maybe that was his fault.

Maybe if I had tried explaining instead of just leaving Y/N to handle my rejection on their own...

He let himself fall back into his chair, staring at the ceiling.

A sick feeling settled in his stomach, twisting, tightening, but he shoved it down. He wasn’t sure why this was bothering him so much. You were his best friend. You had always been there, always been his safe place. He didn’t need you to love him like that. Why would you want someone like him to love you like that?

And why did the thought of you not loving him at all suddenly make it hard to breathe?

You forced yourself to move on. Or at least, you tried to.

It wasn’t easy. Not when everything reminded you of him. The coffee shop where you two used to sit for hours, him hunched over his laptop while you doodled on napkins.

The convenience store where he’d grab extra snacks just because he knew you’d steal half of his. The stupid, little things you hadn’t realized were stitched so deeply into your life until they were gone.

Until he was gone.

But what choice did you have? Staying in his orbit was only going to break you further, so you cut yourself free. It was the hardest thing you had ever done.

But it was also the only way you could survive.

Months passed.

Chan told himself he was fine. That you were fine.

But then, one night, he saw you.

Not through a screen. Not in passing. But there, across the room at a mutual friend’s gathering, looking different and yet exactly the same. Except this time- this time you weren't looking for him.

You weren't making a beeline to his side like you used to.

Instead, you were laughing at something someone else had said, eyes bright, lips curved into a smile that he used to think belonged to him.

And suddenly, he wasn’t fine.

He wasn't fine at all.

Because he realized, too late, that he had been wrong.

He did feel that way about you.

He had just been too blind to see it.

And now? Now you were gone.

Chan sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening around his drink as he watched you from across the room. He thought about going over, thought about what he could possibly say.

"Hey, remember when I said I didn’t love you? I think I lied."

He laughed bitterly to himself. Too late.

Too late for that.

He had told you he didn’t love you.

Cross his heart, he thought he didn’t.

But if that were true, then why did it feel like he was the one suffocating now?

<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3x<3

[leezanetheofficial]

WHY DO I HURT MYSELF LIKE THIS 😭 I NEED MORE PLEASE!!!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Call Them Clingy| Hyungline Pt2

Hyungline x Gn! Reader

(sorry this took like forever lmao ive been going through it in life unfortunately💀💀💀 )

Bangchan

The hum of the studio was still present, but now it felt different- less like a comforting embrace and more like static electricity prickling your skin.

The once-warm atmosphere had turned cold, muted, and the silence stretched like a chasm between you and Chan.

He didn’t ask if you needed anything anymore. He didn’t look at you at all.

The first hour after your slip-up had been the worst. You’d sat there, staring at the screen of your phone, scrolling aimlessly to avoid looking at him. But your thoughts betrayed you, circling back to the look on his face when you’d called him clingy- the hurt in his eyes, the faint slump of his shoulders, the way his movements slowed, as though your words had drained the energy out of him.

This is almost unbearable... You thought to yourself. I've never been uncomfortable around Chris before, rather the complete opposite...I don't like this.

You had apologized in your head a dozen times already, running over how you could bring it up without making things worse. But every time you glanced his way, you found yourself frozen, the words dying in your throat.

I was harsh...I'm feel horrible...

Chan wasn’t usually one to sulk, but this was different. He didn’t seem angry-he didn’t snap or lash out.

Although you wished he would have. It may have been better than this thick tension.

But instead of yelling or cursing, he buried himself in his work, shutting you out completely. His usual hums and absentminded muttering as he worked were nowhere to be found. The tapping of keys and the occasional adjustment of a dial were the only sounds that filled the room.

It felt unbearable.

After almost two hours of sitting in silence, the tension was too much. You shifted in your chair, swallowing the lump in your throat as you finally spoke up.

“Chan,” you said softly, your voice hesitant.

He didn’t respond immediately. His fingers paused over the keyboard, but he didn’t turn to look at you.

“Yeah?” he said, his tone neutral- too neutral.

You winced. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh earlier. I-” You rushed out.

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, his voice tight, clipped.

But it wasn’t fine. You could hear it in the way his words came out too quickly, the way he immediately went back to typing as though he hadn’t just brushed you off.

Serves me right...

You tried again. “It’s not fine. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He let out a breath, finally turning his chair to face you. His expression was guarded, a carefully constructed mask of calm, but his eyes gave him away.

“Look,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I get it. I was being overbearing. I just…I thought I was helping. I'll ease up from now on."

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. He wasn’t trying to defend himself- he was agreeing with you, accepting blame where there wasn’t any to take.

And you didn't want him to agree.

“You- you were helping,” you said quickly. “I was just… overwhelmed, and I didn’t think before I spoke. I-I don't want you to ease up...I love you the way you are.”

Chan nodded slowly, but the way his jaw tightened told you he wasn’t convinced.

“Sometimes I overdo it,” he said, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know how to…not worry about the people I care about. Or love.”

Your heart sank. He wasn’t just talking about you. He was talking about himself, about how he carried the weight of everyone’s needs on his shoulders, even when it wasn’t his responsibility.

“And I made you feel like you couldn’t breathe,” he added, almost to himself.

“No,” you said quickly, leaning forward. “That’s not what I meant. You’re always so thoughtful, Chan. I just…” You trailed off, struggling to put your feelings into words. "I...uh...damn it..."

He tilted his head, waiting for you to continue, but there was a distance in his gaze now- an invisible barrier you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing something wrong,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Because you’re not. I was just having a bad day, and I-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted again, standing abruptly. “It’s getting late. I should wrap this up anyway.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift in his tone.

It wasn’t angry, but it was dismissive.

Final.

“Chan-”

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You should get some rest. I’ll finish up here.”

The dismissal stung more than you expected. You stood up, hesitating for a moment, unsure if you should push further or give him space. But the way he had already turned back to his desk made the decision for you.

“Okay,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible.

You grabbed your bag and made your way to the door, glancing back one last time. Chan was hunched over his keyboard, his back to you, the soft glow of the monitor casting shadows across his face.

“Goodnight,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond.

As you headed out he called out.

"Y/N."

You turned towards him, hopeful.

"You don't have to come tomorrow. Ji...sung-ah and...Innie-ah are supposed to be here to work on something with me."

You sighed and bit the inside part of your lip. He was terrible at lying.

Then a small rush of unrighteous anger hit you.

"Thats okay, I had plans anyways." You shot back, leaving. You almost missed the surprised look as he lifted his head from his bag.

The walk home was a blur. The guilt in your chest felt heavier with every step, suffocating you until you could hardly breathe.

But now that guilt stemmed from also saying something to purposefully provoke him.

Why would I even say that? I have no reason to be mad- but he...he has all the reason to be.

You thought about texting him, but what could you say? Nothing you typed out felt like enough. Apologizing once wasn’t going to fix this.

And you were too prideful to admit your pettiness.

It's embarrassing...

When you finally got home, you dropped your bag by the door and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. You replayed all the moments over and over in your head, wishing you could go back and choose different words, wishing you could make him understand how much he meant to you.

But then your anger driven words hit you. You just loved digging yourself deeper graves. So, you pulled out your phone and shot a text.

Deciding that if you were at a standstill with each other, you at least wouldn't lie to him.

——————————————————————————

Minho

The next morning, you woke up feeling a mix of guilt and lingering irritation. Sleep hadn’t come easy, your mind replaying the events from the previous night like a broken record. You had lashed out, hurt him, and now there was this gnawing uncertainty about where things stood.

You debated texting Minho to apologize, but the thought of his cold tone from last night stopped you. The memory of his quick, hollow kiss on your temple was like a dull ache in your chest- a reminder of how much damage had been done.

You sighed as you reached for your phone, jumping when you see a text from Minho.

Minho: Dori didn't even wait for me to finish preparing his breakfast before eating Soonie's. Such a menace.

You stared at the text for a long moment, unsure of what to make of it. It wasn’t unusual for him to send updates about his cats, but this felt like an attempt to return to normalcy without directly addressing what had happened.

Should I respond? Should I apologize? You wanted to, but the thought of putting your emotions into words felt daunting.

Instead, you liked the message, telling yourself you’d figure it out later. But as the day dragged on, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything. By the evening, your phone buzzed, breaking you from your thoughts.

Minho: Did you eat?

The question was simple, almost routine, but it held a strange weight. And you were unsure how to respond.

Was this his way of reaching out, or was he just trying to check a box out of habit?

You hesitated before typing back: You: Yeah. Did you?

His reply came almost immediately: Minho: Mhm. Chan-hyung made japchae. Ate while working. Minho: Also, three cups of pudding.

You couldn't help but let out a little giggle. You could picture him in his studio, his face reflected in a the mirrors, as he sat crisscross on the dance floor, scribbling choreo ideas, spoon in one hand and a cup of pudding beside him. The image tugged at your heartstrings in the way only a lover could do.

You: Busy day? Minho: Always.

You sighed and rested your head on the back of your couch.

Short. Not necessarily clipped, but there were no teasing or playful jabs. No emojis. Just facts. It felt so unlike him, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You could feel the awkwardness as if he was sitting in the room with you.

You: I’m sorry about last night. You typed out a response, then deleted it, then typed it again. Finally, you settled on: You: I miss you.

The three dots signaling his response appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared. You held your breath, waiting.

Minho: Yeah...

You: I'm sorry.

Minho: It's fine.

It wasn’t fine. You knew that. The lack of warmth in his reply was enough to confirm it.

You: It doesn’t feel fine. Minho: Maybe it’s not...

There it was. The crack in the veneer. Your chest tightened as you stared at his words. You wanted to fix it, to make it right, but you didn’t know how.

You: Can we talk? Minho: Not right now. I’m tired.

The conversation ended there. You stared at the screen long after his reply, the words “I’m tired” echoing in your mind. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion he was talking about. He was emotionally drained, and you were the reason.

You: Okay, goodnight. I love you. Minho: Night. I love you too.

Over the next two weeks, things didn't get much better.

You hadn't seen him in person, and only had a few video calls where anytime you tried to bring up an apology, Minho deflected the conversation.

It felt like more of an awkward and intimate friendship interacting rather than a couple. And you needed to change that. You couldn't handle it. You missed your boyfriend.

Minho had always been steady, a constant in your life. You hadn’t realized how much of a lifeline he was until you cut it with a single careless word.

Clingy.

The way his expression had shifted when you said it- it haunted you. Minho, who rarely let his emotions crack the surface, had been hurt. You’d seen it, felt it in the way he pulled back from you. And you wanted to pull him back towards you.

That’s what brought you to his house a few nights later, your chest tight with desperation and dread. You didn’t have a plan, just a need to be near him, to try and fix what you’d broken.

The porch light cast a faint glow as you arrived, the sight of it familiar yet unsettling. You hesitated at the keypad, your fingers trembling as you entered the code. For a moment, you feared he might have changed it, but the lock clicked open with a soft, mechanical hum.

The sound felt louder than it should have in the quiet night, and your heart ached with the thought that you still knew this house so well.

You stepped inside, the warmth of the entryway doing little to ease the chill in your bones.

“Minho?” Dori was the only cat by the door, immediately rushing to you to rub up against your legs. "Min?"

Your voice was soft, tentative, as you slipped off your shoes and into slippers, but it went unanswered.

The faint murmur of voices reached you from the living room. You moved toward the sound, your footsteps hesitant.

And then you saw them.

She was sitting on the couch, her laughter carrying easily in the stillness of the house.

Minho was beside her, close enough that the space between them seemed insignificant. His expression, one that had been so cold and was open-relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen in minute.

Your stomach twisted painfully, the scene before you crashing down like a tidal wave.

You must have made a sound, because Minho’s head turned sharply in your direction. His eyes widened, surprise etched across his face.

“Y/N?”

The girl followed his gaze, her expression a mix of confusion and mild curiosity.

You froze, your pulse hammering in your ears.

“I-” The words caught in your throat, your mind scrambling to come up with an explanation for why you were here, standing uninvited in his doorway.

“Y/N-ah, wait-” He said, scrambling up from the couch, tripping over Dori who had decided to join the party.

But you were already backing away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said quickly, your voice cracking as you stumbled toward the door. You knocked into the cats water bowl, soaking your feet. The lump in your throat threatened to choke you, but you forced the words out. “I’ll just- go.”

Minho reached for you, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Don’t-”

You didn’t wait for him to finish, pulling away. The door slammed shut behind you, the cold air biting at your skin as you stepped into the night.

You didn’t realize you were still wearing the house shoes Minho had bought for you months ago until you were halfway down the street, your steps uneven on the pavement. The absurdity of it made your throat tighten, but the tears came before the laughter could.

Your vision blurred as you walked aimlessly, the weight in your chest pressing down until it felt hard to breathe. You could still see her face, hear her laugh. It was seared into your mind.

There is no way he could have moved on in just two weeks...right?

Could he have...no. Never.

But had he?

You didn’t know either way. And you couldn’t bring yourself to stay long enough to find out.

Back at the house, Minho stood frozen by the door. Doongie let out a soft mew, as if speaking.

"I know..." Minho said to the cat.

His jaw clenched as he stared at the space where you’d been, staring at where your shoes were left, your sudden departure leaving a suffocating silence along with them.

“Minho?” the girl called hesitantly, her voice breaking through the tension.

He turned to her, his expression unreadable.

“You should go.” he said finally, his tone flat.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she didn’t argue. She gathered her things quickly, giving Doongie a quick scratch, the sound of her footsteps fading as the door closed behind her.

Minho sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall. His gaze fell to the floor, and for the first time, he noticed the trail of damp footprints leading to the door- proof of your hurried escape.

You hadn’t even waited to hear him out.

He wanted to chase after you, to get an explanation for why you’d come in the first place.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he stood there in the silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on him; and he was stuck wondering how something you caused had now become a snowballed issue he needed to resolve.

——————————————————————————

Changbin

You sat there frozen, the echo of his quiet, defeated tone playing on a loop in your mind. It wasn’t like him to leave like that- without a fight, without reassurance, without trying to smooth things over. He had always been one to want to ease conflict in the calmest manner.

Your eyes drifted to the coffee table where his phone sat, screen dark and mocking in the dim light. He must’ve forgotten it in his rush to leave, and the realization sent a pang of guilt straight to your chest. You couldn’t even call him to try and make things right.

With trembling hands, you picked up his phone, turning it over in your palm. It was a small, insignificant thing, but it felt like the only connection you still had to him.

The weight of Hyunjin’s text was heavier now, replaying in your mind like a cruel taunt.

He had planned to propose tonight.

And you had ruined it.

You pressed the phone to your chest, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. You couldn’t stop picturing the way his face had fallen, the light in his eyes dimming with every word you’d said. The warmth he carried with him, the energy that filled every room he walked into, was gone. And it made you feel terrible.

Your hands tightened around his phone as you leaned back on the couch, your thoughts spiraling. Changbin wasn’t just a boyfriend- he was your safe space, your biggest cheerleader, the person who always knew how to make you laugh when you wanted to cry.

And tonight, you had been the one to make him feel small.

You let out a shaky breath, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. There was no way you could let things stay like this.

So, you got to work.

--

Changbin’s car coasted slowly down the street, the low hum of the engine the only sound in the otherwise quiet night. His mind buzzed, replaying every moment of the evening- your harsh words, the hurt in his chest, and the sudden shift in the air between you two. He could still feel the weight of your gaze, and your frustration.

He had tried so hard.

Maybe it is my fault...

He wanted to make the night perfect, make it something to remember. A sweet cute, relaxed proposal. Soft and warm and everything that represented the love he had for you.

But now he was left uncertain, second-guessing everything. The familiar streets blurred as his thoughts swirled, mixing with the disappointment and confusion still lodged in his heart. His grip tightened around the steering wheel.

As he pulled into his driveway, he killed the engine but didn’t immediately move. He sat there for a while, the headlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was cold, but he didn’t feel it. Instead, his chest was heavy, a knot of frustration and sorrow gnawing at him.

I need to apologize. Maybe then-

Reaching for his phone, he noticed a slight tremor in his hands.

Is that the best thing to do though...what if Y/N-ie is still mad...

He spent the next couple minutes thinking about texting you- even though he hadn’t done anything inherintantly wrong.

But the thought of sending an apology and admitting to a fault he didn’t deserve seemed like the easiest way to get things back to normal.

He swiped the phone screen on, but his stomach dropped when he saw his empty hand. He reached to pat his pockets.

He didn’t have his phone with him.

He trailed his eyes at the empty seat next to him, hoping maybe it was there, as the realization hit him harder than it should’ve.

His phone was still on the couch at your place. He must’ve left it there in the rush to get away.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, the frustration and anxiety rising again.

He shifted the car back into gear, pulling out of his driveway and heading back to your apartment. As he drove, he let out a deep sigh, trying to shake off the weight pressing on him.

He didn’t know what to expect when he saw you again. He didn’t even know what he wanted from the rest of this night.

Back at your place, you were busy, but not in the way you had planned. You paced the living room, biting your lip as you nervously looked over the decorations you had hastily thrown together. You had wanted everything to be perfect for him, the way he’d promised it would be tonight, but now… you were the one fixing things.

You were the one putting the final touches on a proposal- his proposal.

Your heart flipped over and over in your chest, as you adjusted things anxiously.

You had to scrounge through a ton of different leftover decorations from previous events and holidays; and it looked like the spirit of every celebratory occasion had thrown up over your living room.

You had tried so hard to get it right, to show him how sorry you were that your nerves and selfishness had ruined everything.

When you heard the distant rumble of his car approaching, your heart skipped a beat. You quickly fixed your hair and wiped your hands on your pants, as if trying to make up for everything all at once.

You hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought through how you were going to apologize. You just knew you couldn’t let him walk away- couldn’t let him leave the night without fixing at least a small part of it.

The doorbell rang, and you froze, your pulse quickening in your throat.

You opened it, and there he was. Changbin. Standing there with an unreadable expression, his eyes flicking over your face before he looked down at the phone in his hand.

You didn't know if you imagined his red rimmed eyes.

“I-” he started, but the words faltered. He opened his mouth again, as if trying to say something, but nothing came out. "I left my phone."

You handed it to him, and he stood there awkwardly turning it in his hands.

"Bin, come in," you whispered, stepping aside to let him in.

He hesitated for a long moment, his feet still on the other side of the threshold, as if he were debating whether to leave or stay. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the uncertainty in his movements.

But then, with a deep sigh, he stepped inside.

You led him to the living room. His eyes stayed on the floor. He didn’t sit down, didn’t speak, just stood there.

"Y/N, I'm sor-"

"You don’t need to apologize," you said, voice barely audible as you walked toward him. You didn’t know how else to start. "I’m the one who messed up tonight. It wasn't you. It was all me."

Changbin shook his head, though it seemed like he was trying to process what he was feeling. He opened his mouth again, his voice hoarse. "No, it wasn't you. I…I didn’t mean for-"

"Changbin, don't fool yourself." You said with a sarcastic chuckle. "You know it was all my fault-"

"Y/N I was the one who was-"

"-I ruined your proposal. Of course it's my fault." You finished.

Your words stopped him. He closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of everything hanging in the air between you.

"So you knew..." he murmured, his voice cracking just slightly.

"Hyunjin texted. I saw it on your screen."

Changbin sighed and then looked around, seeing the decorations.

"What..."

"Since I ruined your proposal I thought I could fix it. As an apology."

The air between you thickened suddenly.

"I-I know it's not the best or the prettiest, but I thought—"

His voice faltered as he looked up at you, eyes filled with something unreadable. Shock, confusion… and then something softer, something heavier.

"What…what did you do?"

You froze. Your heart pounded.

He was staring at everything—the decorations, the candles, the careful details meant for him to present to you.

"I thought… I'd throw something together," you repeated, your voice small. "To fix your proposal."

"Fix it?"

And in that moment, you realized just how wrong that had sounded.

"N-No! I meant fix the night. Not your proposal—nothing was wrong, I just—I ruined the moment, and—"

You were scrambling, desperate to explain.

"Binnie, I—"

"I understand, Y/N."

His quiet chuckle sent a chill through you. It wasn't warm, wasn't teasing. It was sad.

"You made another opportunity," he said, his voice steady but distant. "You set up a proposal."

"Yes! An opportunity, not-" But then you saw it. The rapid blinking, the slight shift in his expression. The way he swallowed hard, as if forcing down words he wouldn't let himself say.

And suddenly, it clicked.

He wasn't upset about your wording. He wasn't even upset that you'd tried to make things right. He was upset because you'd taken this from him. Because he had wanted to be the one to do this for you.

When you had called him clingy earlier, you had let your stressors guide you to insult what you loved most about him.

How he wanted to do everything for you.

His love language towards you always tended to be acts of service.

And while a proposal wasn't necessarily though, it made sense that he wanted to do this for you. One of the biggest acts of your two lives.

He wanted to gift it to you, and you took it away.

For a long, suffocating moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, without another word, he stepped back. His hands curled into fists, then relaxed. He exhaled, gaze flickering between you and the scene you'd set. And then he turned.

You barely processed it as he walked past you, his presence fading with each step toward the door.

"Binnie, wait-"

But he didn't stop. The door opened, and before you could find the right words, the ones that wouldn't make everything worse—

It clicked shut.

——————————————————————————

Hyunjin

The moment Hyunjin you shut the door, you felt a wave of regret crash over you. You stewed in your regret for a while before you succumbed to it.

You couldn't stand it.

You rushed out the door, hoping to catch up; even if it had already a bit since his departure. But you knew him, and he probably hadn't made it far, taking his long legs for granted and dragging out his journey.

You wanted to stop him, to explain, to make him see what you couldn't say- but your pride had already built a wall too high. The words you had snapped at him stung, but there was a fear settling deep within you, too. Fear of rejection, fear of the misunderstanding spiraling out of control.

Fear of losing him from a quick yet grave mistake.

The street was quiet, and your footsteps echoed in the empty space. You turned the corner, but in your rush, you hadn't paid attention to where you were going.

It seemed you had taken one wrong turn after another, and suddenly the comforting glow of the familiar streetlights was replaced with unfamiliar darkness.

Panic rose in your chest. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you fumbled to pull it out, only for it to die before you could see.

You cursed under your breath. Of course, it died. Why wouldn't it? Your mind was foggy, and you could barely focus on anything, let alone figure out where you were. The tightness in your chest felt suffocating, but you pushed through it.

You wandered a little until you found a cute little convenience store, stepping inside, letting the warmth encapsulate you. You decided to grab a snack while you charged your phone, the clerk so graciously allowing you to charge it behind the desk.

You figured while you ate you could figure out what to say to Hyunjin, to mend whatever crack you had caused.

--

Meanwhile, Hyunjin still felt the sting of your words settled deep in his chest. His jaw clenched as he shoved his hands into his pockets, walking briskly down the street.

It wasn’t fair. He had done nothing wrong, yet you had pushed him away like he was too much. Like his affection- his need to be close to you- was suffocating.

Me? Too much- HAH. As if.

You were just being bratty because you were in a bad mood...right?

I'm not actually too much am I?

And maybe it was dramatic, maybe it was childish, but he wanted you to chase after him. To call out his name, to grab his sleeve, to do something to prove you cared as much as he did.

But the street behind him remained quiet.

His throat tightened. His steps slowed.

You weren’t coming.

Hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. Fine. If you weren’t going to run after him, then you could suffer.

He would make you grovel, make you look at him with those wide, guilty eyes and apologize.

Beg a little. Then - only then - he’d pull you into his arms, stroke your hair, kiss your forehead, and tell you it was okay.

Because at the end of the day, that’s all he wanted.

To make things okay again.

With a sigh, he turned back around, heading toward your apartment, already playing out how he’d drag this out just enough to make you squirm before giving in.

But when he got to your door, his smirk faltered.

The lights were off, but the door was cracked.

His brows knitted together as he stepped into a completely empty home.

You were supposed to be here. You were supposed to be sitting inside, stewing in guilt, waiting for him to come back so you could apologize properly.

His fingers twitched as he opened your bedroom door. He went to the bathroom and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked, a little harder this time.

Still nothing.

A flicker of unease crept up his spine. He pulled out his phone and called. It rang twice before going straight to voicemail.

Hyunjin swallowed. His throat was dry.

His mind raced through every possibility. Maybe you just went out for air. Maybe you ran to the convenience store. Maybe-

But his gut told him otherwise.

His gut told him something was wrong.

His fingers curled around his phone, knuckles white as he sucked in a sharp breath. His frustration, his plan to make you beg, his need to be dramatic- all of it evaporated, replaced by one single, overwhelming thought.

He needed to find you.

Now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

taglist specific:

@darling-imobsessed @changbinismymuscledaddy @artist2181 @minniesverse @monbrigh @20staaa @aeri-skzver @noannah @skysole @chanssmiles @depressedarlling @

[leezanetheofficial]

ahh this was so good!!!

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟?

part one

Warning: Angst, cursing, Tired reader, really clingy Felix.

Summary: Y/n's exhausted and slowly breaking down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Today was one of those mentally off days. Y/n’s body felt like it was on autopilot, moving without her full control. Every step she took seemed harder than the last, her mind foggy and clouded by exhaustion. Her stomach churned from the overdose of caffeine that had only made her feel worse, mixing with the emptiness of not eating anything all day. Her skin had lost its usual warmth, now pale and clammy, drenched in sweat as the lack of sleep began to hit its peak. It was a feeling she knew all too well, but one that still managed to knock her out every time.

She barely heard her manager’s voice through the haze, his words distant as he waved his hand in front of her face. “Y/n, are you listening?”

She flinched, her heart racing as the sound of his voice jerked her from the haze. Her eyes focused on him, trying to piece everything together. “Uh… what?” she mumbled, blinking in confusion, her brain struggling to catch up.

Her manager sighed but gave her a soft, understanding smile, though there was a hint of impatience there. “Oh right… I finished filing the documents you asked me to—”

“Great!” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow, his tone lighter now as he leaned forward. “Can you just go over them again and make sure there aren’t any mistakes?”

Y/n mentally groaned, the thought of reviewing pages of fine print when her head felt like it was splitting open. But she knew the importance. She couldn't afford to mess anything up.

He really was a sweet man—kind, professional, and understanding. It wasn’t his fault that they were all running on fumes. But the reality was, some idiot had royally messed up one of the key projects they were set to present. It had thrown everything off course, and now everyone was scrambling, working endless hours to catch up with the other departments that had their shit together.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll get started right now,” she said softly, the words almost coming out as a whisper. She blinked a few times, gathering the willpower to lift herself from her chair. “May I be excused?”

Her manager gave her a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course, dear. Thank you so much for your hard work.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “I really do appreciate it, more than you know.”

Y/n nodded, trying to hide the fatigue creeping into her bones. Before she could leave, he stopped her, holding out his wallet and pulling out his company card. “Here, take this,” he said gently. “Get yourself some dinner... well, technically breakfast.” He glanced at his watch, a guilty laugh escaping him when he realized it was already 3 AM. “You really don’t have to, but I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

She took the card hesitantly, his concern evident in his eyes. “You really don’t have to, sir. But… thank you.” Her lips curved into a tired but genuine smile, her mood shifting slightly, softened by his kindness.

He gave her a reassuring smile, watching as she stood, her shoulders heavy with the weight of the night’s work. "You deserve it, Y/n. Get some rest when you can, okay?" She nodded, grateful, and walked out of the office, the card tucked into her pocket.

It was around 4:30 AM when Y/n's phone vibrated softly on the desk. She glanced at the screen, seeing Chan’s name light up. His call was a relief in the quiet, late hours of her work shift.

“Baby?” His voice sounded husky, still laced with the grogginess of just waking up. His tone carried a trace of concern.

“Hey, Channie,” Y/n said sweetly, though her voice wavered from exhaustion. Her eyelids fluttered in an attempt to stay open as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear, all while continuing to work.

“Hey, where are you? It’s 4 AM…” Chan's words came out in a small panic. Y/n could tell he was still trying to shake off sleep, his voice deepening with worry.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’m still at work,” Y/n sighed, turning a page in her file while typing something up. She clicked a few buttons on her laptop before glancing out the window. The city streets were silent, the world wrapped in a peaceful stillness that seemed a world apart from her busy desk. “Mr. Ji asked me to finish something quickly... I'll be home in a bit, I promise.”

Chan let out a frustrated groan, but his voice softened. “Still at work? Baby, it’s 4 AM. Come home already.” There was a slight panic in his tone now. He shifted under the covers, careful not to wake up Han, who had been nestled against him the entire night. The warmth of his touch was still fresh on his skin, but his concern for her outweighed any desire to stay in bed.

“Yeah... I know, I’m sorry. But Mr. Ji is being really worried about this project,” she explained, the guilt in her chest growing heavier with every word. She didn’t want to add more to his plate. “I’ll be done soon. I’ll be home before you know it.”

There was a pause, followed by Chan’s soft, frustrated sigh. “I can come pick you up right now…” His voice was filled with worry. “You don’t have to be out so late by yourself.”

“No, babe—” Y/n interrupted gently, “it’s way too late, and you have practice in an hour and a half. Get some rest, okay? I’ll be home soon.” She spoke with a calmness she didn’t entirely feel, trying her best to soothe him.

Chan’s frown deepened, even though she couldn’t see it. “Who’s going to drop you off? You shouldn’t be out at this hour alone. It’s not safe…”

“I’ll ask Yi-so Unnie to drop me off,” Y/n reassured him, trying to sound convincing. “She’ll take me home. Don’t worry, please? Just go back to sleep.”

There was a long silence, and Y/n could almost hear his internal battle. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Chan let out a quiet, “Okay... just call me if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise,” Y/n said softly, a smile tugging at her lips despite the weight of the moment. She felt the stress melting a little with each reassuring word. “How are my boys?”

“They’re good, all asleep,” Chan replied, his voice lighter now. He’d finally crawled back into bed, pulling Han back into his arms, the warmth and comfort of his body providing a sense of peace. He closed his eyes, feeling the tension in his shoulders slowly ease.

"Felix is mad at you," Chan said, chuckling lightly, his tone teasing yet knowing. Y/n furrowed her brow. Chan knew all too well how dramatic Felix had been these past few days, sulking about how little time Y/n had been able to spend with him due to her hectic schedule.

Y/n sighed, leaning back in her chair, and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know, I know," she muttered, clearly exhausted herself. "Is he sleeping with you?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of concern, though there was a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Felix always slept with her every night, curling up beside her for comfort and companionship. Her long nights at the office had clearly been taking a toll on him, and that made her feel a pang of guilt.

Chan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, he's with Changbin," he replied, his voice still laced with a tired yawn. He stretched his arms overhead, the exhaustion evident in the way his shoulders slumped.

Y/n’s frown deepened slightly, the guilt gnawing at her as she glanced over at the clock on the wall. "I really need to wrap this up," she murmured more to herself than to Chan. It was late, and she knew Felix would be waiting for her, feeling abandoned.

"He'll survive," he said, teasing again, though there was a comforting warmth in his voice. "But maybe just send him a text before you come home, so he knows you haven’t forgotten him completely."

Y/n gave him a small, grateful smile. "I will," she promised softly, though her mind was already on the long to-do list she still had to get through. The work would never stop, but neither could her relationship with Felix—she just hoped he understood.

“I’m glad to hear that. See you soon, my love,” Y/n replied, her heart aching as she imagined him lying next to Han.

“Did you eat something?” His voice was soft, his eyes growing heavy with sleep again.

“Yeah, baby,” Y/n responded, a tiny lie slipping past her lips. “Get some rest. You sound exhausted. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Chan murmured, his voice growing quieter. He drifted back into sleep, the call fading into silence.

Y/n smiled as she quickly hung up, her gaze drifting back to the screen. But the guilt still gnawed at her—she was only halfway through her work, and the night was far from over.

It was now 5:20 AM, and Y/n was almost done with her work. The office was quiet, save for the soft hum of her computer. She was confident she’d be wrapped up by 5:45. Letting out a loud yawn, she stretched her arms overhead before grabbing her coffee cup. The bitter taste jolted her awake, though only slightly.

"Hey, neighbor," came a familiar voice. Hae, one of her co-workers, knocked lightly on the office door before pushing it open. "Hey, love," Y/n greeted with a tired smile, her eyes flickering up from the pile of papers she was working through. "Are you done with work?"

"Almost," Hae replied, swinging herself into the office chair with a casual stretch. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Y/n groaned, rubbing her face and flipping a page in her book. "I’m so tired. I can’t wait to get out of here."

"Same here," Hae agreed with a dramatic sigh, flopping back in her chair. "So, once we’re done, wanna grab breakfast? We don’t have to be back until 8 anyway." She rolled her eyes at the thought of getting only a few hours of sleep.

Y/n laughed softly. "Yeah, sure. Mr. Ji gave me the company card, so we can go get something to eat."

"Great!" Hae beamed, standing up from the chair with a bounce in her step. "See you in a bit." She waved and stepped out of the room, leaving Y/n chuckling at how adorable she was.

The moment Hae was out of sight, Y/n’s focus returned to the computer screen in front of her, but not for long. Her phone vibrated on the desk, and without looking, she picked it up. It was one of her boyfriends, likely Changbin.

"Hey, bunny," Changbin's voice came through the phone. She could hear the sound of him rattling around in the kitchen, probably making his usual protein shake. "Where are you? Did you head out for work already?"

"Hey, baby," Y/n sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I didn’t come home last night. I’m still at work."

“What? You didn’t come home?” Changbin’s voice was filled with concern. “Why? That’s so unhealthy.”

She winced, knowing what was coming. "Yeah, but remember how I told you we’re behind because of one of my coworkers?”

"Yeah, I remember..." His voice softened, but she could tell he was holding back his irritation.

“Binnie, be nice,” Y/n scolded, cutting him off before he could say something sharp. "We’re almost done, though. Just a bit longer."

He exhaled loudly. "But you’ve been coming home really late these past few days, going to work really early. You barely eat and you're practically running on coffee. We’ve barely seen you.” He pouted, even though Y/n couldn’t see it. She could hear the concern in his voice, though.

“I know. I know,” Y/n whispered, feeling her chest tighten. She was trying so hard to stay composed, but the weight of everything was getting to her. The constant pressure, the long hours—she was on the verge of breaking down. "I’m just...really tired."

There was a pause on the other end before Changbin let out a sigh. "I’m heading to the gym right now, but I’ll swing by and drop off your jacket. You need anything?"

Y/n shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. "Don’t bother. I’m leaving the office now. You’ll probably find me home." She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice was tight, like a rubber band stretched too thin.

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked, his voice laced with worry. "I can grab you something to eat, too, if you need it."

"No, it’s okay," Y/n quickly dismissed him, trying to push back the feelings welling up in her chest. "I’m leaving soon. Go work out. I’ll be home before you know it."

"Okay..." Changbin’s voice was defeated, but he didn’t push her any further. "I love you. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

"I will. I love you too." Y/n's words came out a little too quickly, but she needed him to hang up. Her head was starting to ache, and she couldn’t bear to talk much longer. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Bye, my love."

She hung up, her fingers trembling slightly as she set the phone down. For a moment, she just sat there in silence, the office lights buzzing overhead. She closed her eyes for a beat, trying to steady her breathing, but the tension was too much. It was too much.

"Finally," Y/n huffed, letting the tension leave her shoulders as she stood in the empty office, basking in the quiet after a long day of work. She had managed to finish everything in time and turned in all the reports. She finally felt like she could breathe. "Hey, neighbor, you finished?" Hae's voice cut through the stillness as she leaned casually against the doorframe. She was already wearing her coat, a small bag slung over her shoulder, ready to head out.

"Yeah, just handed everything in," Y/n said with a relieved smile. "Lemme grab my stuff and we can go."

As she tossed a few stray papers into her bag and pulled on her coat, Hae lingered in the doorway, trying to make small talk. "It’s quite chill outside," she noted, shoving her hands into her pockets.

"Yeah," Y/n chuckled, the image of her boyfriend popping into her mind. "My boyfriend wanted to bring me another jacket just because it’s so cold."

Hae raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Aww, that’s sweet. How are they, by the way?"

"They're good," Y/n said with a soft laugh. "Probably really mad I didn’t come home. I kind of...forgot to charge my phone." She cursed under her breath as she fumbled with her dead phone. "Great timing, huh?"

"I've got a charger," Hae offered with a grin, pulling out a cord from her bag. "We can charge it at the cafe."

"Thanks," Y/n said, gratefully accepting the charger and slipping her phone back into her bag. She locked her office door and followed Hae out into the chilly evening air.

After they grabbed a quick breakfast at the cafe, they parted ways. Y/n didn’t realize until she was on her way home that she had completely forgotten to charge her phone after all. The day had already begun for most people, but for her, it was time to sleep.

When she arrived at the house, she could hear footsteps echoing through the halls, indicating that everyone was getting ready for their schedules. Y/n sighed softly, pushing her tired body to unlock the door. She stepped inside, shedding her shoes and coat, and called out, "I’m home!"

Her feet dragged on the floor as she made her way through the house, exhaustion pulling at every step. "Babe?" Leeknow's voice came from the kitchen, and he appeared in the doorway. Dressed in sweatpants, a hoodie, and a cap, he looked comfortable but clearly concerned as he rushed over to her.

"Why weren’t you answering our calls?" He asked, pulling her into a warm hug, his worry evident in his voice.

"My phone died, my love. I totally forgot to charge it," she explained softly, resting her head on his chest. "Are you good? Did you sleep well?" she asked, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Yeah, I did," he replied, brushing a hand gently through her hair. "But you, you're burning up," he frowned, his palm coming to rest on her forehead. "Are you sick?"

"No, just really tired," she yawned, fighting to stay awake as her body screamed for rest.

"Okay, go wash up and get into bed. I’ll make you some warm hot chocolate," he cooed, guiding her toward the stairs with gentle hands.

"I just had breakfast, baby. Just get ready for work. I promise I’m okay, I just need to recharge before going back in," she reassured him, giving him one more soft kiss on the lips. "Go on, I’ll be fine."

Leeknow looked at her with concern, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "O-okay... but I’ll come check on you before I leave, yeah?"

Y/n nodded, offering him a tired smile, before slowly making her way up the stairs, feeling his eyes follow her every step. His worry gnawed at him as he watched her sluggish movements, but he didn’t say anything.

Upstairs, the house was busy with everyone getting ready for the day. Y/n managed to sneak past everyone and into her room, where she quickly washed up and changed into something more comfortable. She turned off the lights, allowing herself to collapse into her cozy bed. A sigh of relief left her lips as she curled up, closing her eyes and letting the weight of the day melt away. The sound of the house buzzing with activity was drowned out as she finally allowed herself to fall into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

20 minutes hadn’t even passed by when suddenly her door opened and closed. She was too tired to open her eyes to see how it was but she could tell by the persons cologne.

Her blanket shifted, the soft fabric sliding off as Felix’s body pressed against hers, seeking warmth. His small sniffles reached her ears as he nestled closer, his head resting against her chest. "Y/nnie?" he mumbled, his voice thick with something between sleepiness and sadness.

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered open slowly, the hazy room coming into focus. She blinked once, twice, before realizing Felix was right there, pouting, his soft features contorted with a mixture of discomfort and longing. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands cold against her skin as he nuzzled his head under her chin, snuggling into the crook of her neck.

"Hey, babyboy, what’s wrong?" she murmured softly, her voice thick with the grogginess of sleep. Without even thinking, her hand instinctively moved to stroke his arm, soothing him with gentle touches. She threaded her fingers through his tousled blonde hair, the faint scent of his shampoo mixing with the warmth of his body.

Felix let out a soft whimper, his voice muffled against her skin. "You didn’t cuddle with me last night..." His words were laced with an almost childlike sadness, his lower lip protruding in a small, endearing pout.

Y/N’s heart tugged, and she felt a wave of guilt rush over her. Felix always craved her attention, often joking about it, but tonight was different. He needed her, and she hadn't been there. "I’m sorry, Lix," she whispered, her fingers brushing through his hair again. "I had so much work to do. It was a long night…"

"I know, but still…" His voice faltered, and he tightened his hold around her waist, his body curling further into hers, as if trying to get as close as physically possible. "You’ve been working so much. You don’t even have time for me anymore."

The guilt in her chest tightened. Felix was right. He was always by her side, but recently, the overwhelming weight of her responsibilities had kept them apart. "Baby," she started, her voice low, "I'm really sorry. It wasn’t intentional."

Felix looked up at her with big, wide eyes, his brow furrowed in that familiar, pouty expression she knew too well. His voice wavered, vulnerable. "But… I don’t get it, Y/N. You’re always with Han and everyone else. When it’s my turn… I’m always the last one."

She felt her chest tighten at his words. This wasn’t how she had intended for him to feel, but exhaustion clouded her thoughts, making it hard to communicate. "Sunshine," she interrupted gently, her tone more fatigued than she intended. "Can we talk later? I’m just so tired right now."

Felix’s face shifted, a flash of hurt crossing his features. "Fine. If you don’t love me anymore, just say that. You’re always laying up with Han and the rest, and when it comes to me, you just ignore me…" His voice cracked as he pulled away from her, slipping out of her grip. His body shifted away as he sat up, the room feeling much colder without him against her.

"Felix, it’s not like that," Y/N protested, frustration rising as she tried to reach for him, her tiredness now turning into worry. "I promise, I do love you. I just—"

"Whatever," he muttered, his tone sharp now, tinged with bitterness. He stood up, pacing away from her bed. "You don’t get it, Y/N. You’ve been too busy for me. I’m not going to sit here and beg for your attention anymore."

"Please, Lix," Y/N pleaded softly, trying to push herself up from the bed, but her body felt like lead, heavy with exhaustion. "I’ve been up all night, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry."

Felix turned to her, his back facing her as he stood by the door, frustration radiating off him. "I get it, okay? You’ve got a million things on your plate. But it’s fine. It’s whatever." His words dripped with resentment, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had drained him.

Y/N’s heart sank as she watched him storm out of the room, the door shutting behind him with a soft thud. She sank back into her bed, her mind reeling with guilt and exhaustion.

She hadn't wanted things to get like this, but as she lay there, her eyelids fluttering shut again, she couldn’t help but wonder if the rift between them had gotten too wide to fix with just a few apologies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

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[leezanetheofficial]

This was so good! sad but good!

[james-is-here]

I hope you brush your teeth after this cause it is tooth rotting fluff, I genuinely couldn't stop myself, I just love Chan so freaking much 🥰

The dorm was unusually quiet that afternoon. Most of the members were out running errands, leaving Chan and Mn alone with the kind of peace they rarely got to enjoy. It should have been the perfect opportunity for Chan to catch up on some work or maybe relax, but Mn had other plans.

Chan was sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees, headphones on, completely immersed in fine-tuning a track. His brows furrowed in concentration as his fingers flew across the keyboard. Across the room, Mn was sprawled on the floor, chin propped on his hands, watching Chan intently.

For a while, Mn stayed quiet, but his patience wore thin after ten minutes. He rolled onto his back, groaning dramatically. “Hyuuuuung, I’m bored.”

Chan didn’t respond, too focused on his work.

“Channie-hyung,” Mn tried again, louder this time, dragging out the syllables of his name.

Still nothing.

With a huff, Mn pushed himself up and padded over to the couch. Standing beside it, he leaned in and poked Chan’s cheek. “Helloooo, earth to Bang Chan.”

Chan finally pulled one earbud out, glancing at Mn. “What’s up, agi?”

“I’m bored,” Mn said, pouting. “Pay attention to me.”

Chan smiled softly, shaking his head. “Just give me a few more minutes, Mn. I’m almost done.”

Mn crossed his arms, clearly not satisfied with that answer. “You said that twenty minutes ago!"

Chan’s grin widened at Mn’s whining, but he didn’t budge. He turned back to his laptop, ignoring the way Mn was now dramatically sighing behind him.

Undeterred, Mn circled around to the front of the couch and flopped down beside Chan. He poked at Chan’s arm, tugged at the sleeve of his hoodie, and even tried to close the laptop at one point.

“Mn,” Chan said, his tone warning but still laced with amusement.

Mn only grinned in response, grabbing one of the strings on Chan’s hoodie and twirling it around his finger. “You’re ignoring me.”

“I’m working.”

“You always say that,” Mn retorted, his voice edging into a playful whine.

That was the final straw for Chan. With an exaggerated sigh, he snapped his laptop shut and set it on the coffee table. Before Mn could react, Chan grabbed him by the waist and effortlessly pulled him onto his lap.

“Hyung!” Mn squealed, laughing as Chan adjusted him so he was straddling Chan’s thighs. “What are you doing?”

Chan didn’t answer. Instead, he cupped Mn’s face with both hands and leaned in, pressing a firm kiss to Mn’s lips. Mn’s protests died immediately, replaced by muffled laughter as Chan kissed him again and again, even moving to his nose, cheeks, eyes, anywhere he could reach.

“Still bored?” Chan asked between kisses, his tone teasing.

Mn couldn’t stop giggling, his hands coming up to cover his face. “Stop!” he said, though his laughter made it clear he didn’t mean it.

Chan grinned, gently pulling Mn’s hands away. “Nope. You wanted attention, didn’t you?”

Mn tried to glare, but his flushed cheeks and wide smile ruined the effect. “You’re so annoying,” he muttered, though the affection in his voice was unmistakable.

Chan chuckled, resting his forehead against Mn’s. “Says the one who’s been poking at me for the last half hour.”

Mn huffed but didn’t move. Instead, he pulled his sweater sleeves over his hands and cradled Chan’s face with them, his thumbs brushing against Chan’s cheekbones.

“You’re too adorable,” Chan murmured, his voice softening. “How did I get so lucky?”

Mn’s grin widened at the question. “It’s just the luck of the draw in the deck of life,” he said dramatically, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Chan laughed, shaking his head. “Well, if that’s true, then I managed to pull the king of hearts.”

Mn’s lips twitched, and he tried to hold back his laughter as he stood up. “Wrong, hyung, that's you.” he called over his shoulder as he headed toward the kitchen.

Chan raised an eyebrow, already smiling. “Oh? And what did I get, then, if you're not the king?”

Mn turned around at the doorway, his grin turning cheeky. “You got the joker.”

Chan froze for a moment, pretending to be offended. “The joker?” he repeated, standing up slowly as his smile morphs into a smirk.

Mn’s eyes widened, and he immediately started giggling. “Hyung, wait, no—”

Chan was already moving, crossing the room in a few quick strides. Mn let out a squeal and bolted into the kitchen, his laughter echoing through the dorm as Chan chased him.

“You’re in for it now, baby boy,” Chan called, grinning as he caught Mn by the waist.

Mn burst into uncontrollable laughter as Chan hugged him from behind, spinning him around slightly before planting a flurry of kisses on his cheek and jaw. “Hyung! Stop! I’m sorry!” Mn said between giggles, though he didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Not a chance,” Chan replied, laughing along with him. He tightened his hold, burying his face in the crook of Mn’s neck and pressing one last kiss there for good measure.

The atmosphere was warm and light, filled with the sound of Mn’s laughter and Chan’s soft chuckles. For Chan, there was no better feeling in the world than moments like this—holding Mn close, hearing his laughter, and knowing he was the reason for it.

As Mn finally caught his breath, he turned in Chan’s arms, wrapping his own around Chan’s neck. “You really do love me, huh?” he teased, though his tone was softer now.

Chan smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Mn’s forehead. “More than anything, my precious Joker.” he said honestly.

Mn’s smile softened with a gentle chuckle, and he tightened his arms, his hands moving slightly to the back of Chan's head to lightly play with his hair. “Good, My King,” he murmured. “Because I’m keeping you forever.”

Chan chuckled, holding him tighter while lightly touching his nose to Mn's before resting his forehead against the others. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, baby.”

@succubus-hansol @forever-atiny @lemon--shark @victorbutnotreally @leezanetheofficial @belladonna6-6-6 @heartbinn @yongbokkk @dontwannaexsist @tomorrowxtogather (?) @leeyasuojihan @laviedemamere (?) @theo4eve @dis-trict9

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[leezanetheofficial]

THIS WAS ADORABLE 😍

[asherthehimbo]

Burning in the Darkness

synopsis: The confrontation of love isn't always pretty, it's not always accepted either, live can hurt, it can burn hotter than any flame in Tartarus, Kai knows this well. or, a short story on how Felix and Kai came to be

word count: 3.2K

pairing: Lee Felix x Male Oc! (Kai)

notes! : HAPPY BIRTHDAY @kaisworlds I LOVE YOU SO MUCH OMW ID DIE FOR YOU I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, EVERYONE GO SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HIM YAYAYAYAYAYA. Based on this Yunho fic! Here are characters parents!

It was a mistake, fuck it was such a mistake but god did he wish it wasnt. The pain, the searing heat of Felix’s touch is now forever engraved in Kai’s memory. There are tiny burn marks littering his skin, ones that could be mistaken for hickeys if not for the the pain on his flesh whenever he moves, his bones ache as fatigue consumes him. His eyes are still closed, trying to will away the rising sun and its offspring that lay next to him.

He’s scared, and that's a foreign feeling, at least in this sense. He’s developed his fathers lack of emotion overtime, the darkness being a part of his soul and not just something he could control, he’s scared to open his eyes because he doesn’t know what he'll see. He told his sister, he fucking told her he didn’t want to come to the party the kids where having at Felix’s dorm, he knew his mind wasn’t in the right space, that he’d end up doing something he couldn’t take back. He shouldn’t have listened to his sister, she just sounded so happy at the chance to actually hangout because Erin was out of town and he didn't have the heart to deny her.

Last night everything felt so right, the music was blaring, the alcohol left that delicious burn in the back of his throat after every shot, everyone was laughing and he had lost the reason he was worried in the first place, that is until a tipsy Felix sat next to him. God did he look good, blond locks growing out, now almost reaching his shoulders, glittered eyes and dark freckles on his cheeks, he looked absolutely delicious and Kai found himself wishing to taste Felix. He wanted the blond man’s taste to be the burning in the back of his throat, not the alcohol that now seemed tasteless in comparison to the flavor of Felix’s lips he’s concocted in his mind. 

He shouldn’t have, he knew he shouldn't have, he’s been to many parties, he's got a tolerance and he knows he can’t blame his next actions on the alcohol. It was just, he came to a point where he couldn’t resist Felix anymore, not when he was looking up at him with those big eyes, with the pout that made him seem so fucking kissable. The rest was a haze but Kai can remember every detail of Felix’s body beneath his, he doesn’t remember how it started, he just remembers Felix’s lips against his, he remembers ignoring the burning of the blond’s touch, rather liking the pain of the searing scratches on his back.

He lay in a bed he knows isn’t his own, feels the heat radiating off Felix in waves, he sighs for a moment, the sun’s starting to come up and if he’s caught here once Helios turns up to greet his son he’d turn to ash simply due to that fact that he isn’t meant to meet the sun, not ever, he is darkness after all. He opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling before turning his head and the image that greets him makes his heart sink to his stomach. Felix’s roots are black, the roots of his hair are black. The blond seems duller, not the bright newly bleached it was last night, it’s faded out and his roots are fucking black. 

He sits up, he can’t stay here, he’s hurting Felix, corrupting him. There’s a voice in his mind screaming to stay, to turn Felix to darkness, to rid him from the son and keep him in Kai’s shadow forever, he doesn’t listen to it. He tries to be as quiet as possible, but his own pounding headache and burning wounds make that effort fruitless. When he’s pulled his shirt that reeks of smoke- god does he need a cigarette right now- over his head he sees Felix staring at him, eyes wide and head tilted as he sits up. Fuck

“What are you doing? Where are you going?” Felix’s voice is still groggy from sleep as he rubs his eyes, it’s cute but Kai’s mind is a mess of voices and he can’t focus on that, he doesn’t want to answer, but his mouth speaks faster than his mind in the way it always does. “Home, last night was a mistake, i'm going home and sleeping it off” he says, voice monotone and the perfect parallel of his fathers which he hated as a child. He won't be going home, and he definitely won't be sleeping, his thoughts running too fast for that, but he needs to get out of here, he’s panicked and he hates being panicked. “What?” Felix asks, suddenly awake as he sits up fully, his voice cracks and Kai knows he just tore out Felix’s heart but he can’t fucking stop.

He has a tendency to hurt those around him, he doesn’t want to but his instincts perceive any unwanted feelings as danger and his mind will do anything to get him away from it, especially say things he doesn't mean, things he wishes would never have been uttered from his lips. “I said last night was a mistake, and I'm going home” He turns, he can’t look at Felix anymore, his eyes hurt, he doesn’t know if it's the tears he’s pushing back or the faint glow around the blond, but he needs out.  His feet carry him, but the fire that encompasses his wrist pulls him back as Felix stands before him, body littered with bruises that were brought on by pleasure, eye’s brimming with tears that look golden in the rising sun, as if his words made the demigod cry ichor. Such a holy substance, Kai thinks, he is undeserving of it. “What do you mean by mistake? I laid my heart bare for you and-” Felix is pleading, trying to convince himself that this is just a bad dream, that years of pining wasn’t for nothing, that last night, the night he’s dreamed of, it wasn’t for nothing.

Kai rips his wrist from Felix's hold, not because he wants to but because it burns, he’d imagine the flames of tartarus wouldn’t hurt as much as Felix's touch currently does. A demigod's power is heightened by emotion but Kai has repressed his own for so long that compared to the light before him, the light of his life, that he is weak. He can still feel last night's touches flaming against his skin, happy that he’s wearing something to cover the marks. Felix doesn’t need to know what he does to Kai, he won’t be able to live with that guilt and Kai knows that. “It was a mistake. We were both drunk and horny and that's all it was”  

A tear falls from Felix’s eye, it hits the ground with a sizzle, burning through the wood, he doesn’t notice, but Kai does. “You don’t mean that” his voice is wavering, eyes brimming with more tears and the room seems impossibly hotter. Kai doesn’t respond, he’s good at lying, but not good enough to say he does and show Felix he means it. He watches in silence as more tears fall from Felix’s face into the ground, burning through the wood like a cigarette bud to paper. “I hate you” Felix says, “You don’t” Kai responds immediately. 

“I hate that I don’t” Felix knows Kai’s right, but it hurts, it feels like a sword pierced his heart, the tears that fall from his eyes feel like their burning his own skin (because they are Felix, you’re hurting yourself), he can’t deny Kai’s words but he wishes he could. The room is filled with silence again, wishes that come from both of the demigods' hearts floating in the air yet not reaching the other, reality pulling them back. Miscommunication is a fucked trope, one Felix never liked, a shame he’s caught trapped in it now. Falling in love with a man who would die before telling Felix the truth, that he loves him, that he’s willing to die if it means Felix could touch him. But he doesn’t because he knows Felix would die before hurting him, and somehow in Kai’s twisted, dark veiled mind, pushing away the person who sees the good in him, pushing away Felix is his best option. He turns again and walks out the door, strangely missing the burn of Felix’s wrist on his skin as he walks.

It’s weird, he does not want to burn, yet he yearns for the pain when he doesn’t. His mind hates it, but his heart needs it to continue pumping in his chest, his soul can not stay whole without it. But ruining what’s good has always been something Kai’s done, he’s learned that from his father, creating a veil of darkness over his life is what he’s used to, Felix makes him wish he wasn’t.

“You” the door to Kai’s room slams open as his sister stands in the doorway, her finger pointed at him as she's hunched over and panting heavily as if she'd ran here, she supports herself on her knees as the finger that was previously pointing at him is now held up in a ‘give me a minute’ motion. 

“Me?” Kai asks from where he lays on his bed, cigarette in hand as he stares up at his ceiling, it's dark in his room, his curtains drawn and blocking out the setting sun, only light from his lamp. He sighs after a moment, sitting up and flicking some of his cigarettes ash into the ashtray he's holding as he looks at his sister. He knows why she's here, knows that out of the thousands of missed calls and messages on his phone she's at least half of them, but the device is left forgotten on the floor in a corner of his room and he doesn't have the willpower to get it. 

“You! How could you be so stupid I mean you-” Kyu already starts her ranting as she walks into the room, but stops once she sees the state of her brother, her former discontent now turning into worry as she stares at him, her open mouth closing as she seems to contemplate her next words. “You look like a fucking mess” she sighs, walking over and grabbing the cigarette from his lips, putting it out as she takes the ashtray from his hands and placing it on his desk ignoring his whining. 

“Come one I rarely smoke, you could've let me atleast finish it” he says and she simply gives him a look in response, he flops back onto his bed, “I'm guessing you talked to Felix?” his words are cautionary, almost as if he's afraid to say them. She repeats his sentence in a mocking tone, “of course I talked to Felix because the sun was fucking beaming so hard today I could barely walk outside- and when I did go to his room everythings burnt to ashes and his hair is fucking black and he's crying ichor and-” her ranting is cut of as Kai whips his head to her, “his hair was black?”

She stops her pacing as she looks at him, “yeah? he didn't seem like he realised till I pointed it out but I thought that was your doing?” she looks at his face now, the redness of his eyes, the split in his lips from how he's bitten them. He smells like sweat and cigarettes, like he always did when he was upset. He'd found his way of coping, even if that was ignoring everything in favor of working out till he couldn't anymore and then ruining his lungs, but he was coping nonetheless. 

“No when I left him only his roots were darker not his- fuck” Kai’s hands reach for his head, covering his face. Kyu sighs before she sits next to him, “tell me what happened, because right now I only know what Felix told me and that is not a good thing” she looks down at her brother sympathetically and he hates it. 

“We slept together” Kai shrugs, acting as if his words don't hold the weight that they do. “Kai, we both know it's more than that” the knowing tone of her voice reaches his ears and as much as he loves his sister he just wants to tell her to shut up. “I told him it was a mistake” he finally lets out with a sigh. There's silence, and he doesn't look at his sister's face, he can't, knowing her face will only reflect the disappointment he feels in himself. 

“why? I mean why- you've loved that boy since you met him why would you-” Kyu doesn't understand, she can never understand. Felix isn't made for him, he's made to hurt him. “His roots were black” Kai cuts her off, “what?” She looks confused, not understanding why a problem that could be fixed by a simple dye job is the reason for the sudden animosity between the two. 

“Kyu, I kissed him and gods if it wasn't the best thing i'd ever experienced -  He was everything i'd ever wanted and it felt almost sinful to touch him but I did because I just couldn't not anymore, he told me he loved me and for a moment, for a second I let myself believe that maybe even the darkest of Chthonic’s could have the light of love, but then I woke up.  I woke up and the roots of his hair were black, I'd corrupted him simply by touching him. I felt so ashamed, because I knew better, I should've known better and then when he touched me it burned. I mean sure he was always a little warm, and when it happened during sex I just thought he lost control of his powers but he tried to reach out to be and his touch burned and I just-” Kai takes a breath, not choking back a sob, he doesn't cry, has long since forgone the action, but sometimes he wishes he would, thinks it would be easier to let out his emotions that way. 

“Our powers react to our emotions, they act up in defense of us, he burned me, he was scared of me” Kai admits, he hates the words that roll off his tongue, like venom that he desperately needs to spit out before it infiltrates his veins and overtakes his mortal body. “Was he scared of you, or was he scared that you would leave?” Kyu asks after a moment of silence, when she'd taken in her brother's words, Kai’s mind stops. 

“He was scared” is all he says, like he's confirming the situation to himself, “I can't - I can't have him being scared because of me” he finishes, no matter why, he doesn't want to mix any negative feelings with Felix's positive ones, he would rather drown himself in the river styx. 

“Kai,“ his sister sighs, as if she's talking to a child her voice is gentle, yet not demeaning, it still doesn't make him feel better, “I promise you he wasn't scared of you, I know what being scared of someone you love looks like- and the Felix I saw before I came here was a mess of a man filled with loss. If he was scared of losing you- then that isn't a bad thing. Being scared to lose someone is what it is to be in love, you're scared and yet you still dive in anyway, because you'll be with them. Kai from what I saw, Felix isn't better off without you, not in the way you think he is.“

Kai lets her words sink in each sentence sitting heavier on his chest, “you want me to talk to him” Kai doesn't ask, his words are a statement, he knows his sister, and while she would never push him she was very persistent. Kai stands up, already accepting the fact that he needs to fix his mistake of calling what happened a mistake, but she stops him. “Don't go no, It's dark out, go in the morning, when the sun is bright, meet him in his domain, an olive branch of sorts. Show him you're willing to be vulnerable, it'll mean a lot more” she stands up, pushing him back softly as she moves to the door, only bidding him a smile goodbye as he nods in response, she knows she needs to leave, to let him

think about what he wants to say, what he needs to say. 

It's strange, he's not even in Felix's room and yet he can feel the heat radiating from it, the wood of the door charred, doorknob melted off, all he has to do is push, one simple push and he'll be able to see Felix. Such a simple action feels so difficult, his arm heavy as if lifting it up to open the door would be the most fatigue-inducing task he'd ever complete. 

There are no sounds coming from Felix's room, he didn't expect that, he'd expected screaming, crying even just heavy breathing and yet it's completely silent. The silence of the room is louder than his own heartbeat. His body leads when his mind is dull, walking through the door, it's second nature for his body, instinct to walk into Felix's room. Many nights spent laughing and talking with him, yet in his heart he knows it's different, that nothing will ever be the same despite the outcome of what will happen when he is in this room.

His eyes land on Felix, he's the only solid in the room, sitting atop a once white bed, his clothes burned, bedding black and ashfilled, gold tear tracks running down his face, eyes open and dead, unblinking and staring past Kai, through him. The room is dark, burned down despite the sun shining into it.  Kai mistakes the man before him for a child of the dead, he is unmoving, unblinking, no breath from his bleeding lips, no more tears from his golden rimmed eyes, his hair as dark as Kai’s own shadow. This isn't Felix, not the one he knows, not the one he fell in love with. 

Kai hears the whispers of Minho and I.N behind him, they're worried, rightfully so, but they shouldn't see Felix like this, no one should. Kai doesn't  want others to see what he's done to his light, lest they take it away from him forever. 

He closes the door, a newly formed resolve steeled in his blackened heart, he'll love Felix, even if he needs to burn, because he'd rather die in Felix's flames, than watch him succumb to his own. No one knows what was said that morning, what happened that day, it's a secret, a moment in time shared only between the two, a moment not even seen nor heard by the sun, one just for them. 

No one else was in the room where it happened, but that's a good thing, for the forced solitude of darkness and light brought forth a new beginning for the pair, one rocky, one painful and filled with heartache, but a beautiful path nonetheless. 

Stray kids masterlist | navigation

Taglist: @seongsangssbitch @leezanetheofficial @idkwhatto-namethis

[leezanetheofficial]

loved this! i want more 🤧

[james-is-here]

Happy New Year, Y'all!! 🥳 🎆 🎊

The gentle, rhythmic hum of the studio equipment filled the air, creating a serene ambiance that enveloped the room. The only interruptions came from the soft rustle of papers being turned and the faint, staccato clicks of a keyboard as you worked. You sat comfortably on the polished wooden floor, legs crossed, the fabric of your sweats brushing against the cool surface.

A notebook balanced precariously on one knee, its pages adorned with scribbles and sketches, while a well-used pencil rested snugly behind your ear, ready to capture fleeting thoughts and bursts of inspiration at a moment's notice. The couch loomed nearby, its inviting cushions adding a touch of comfort to the creative space, but for now, you were immersed in your work, lost in the tranquility of the studio.

Chan sat comfortably in the well-worn desk chair, a sanctuary of sorts that had absorbed countless hours of creativity. His posture was relaxed, yet there was an unmistakable air of determination about him as he leaned slightly forward, his head bowed in deep concentration. He instinctively brushed a few errant strands of hair from his forehead, revealing the furrow of his brow as he meticulously examined the lyrics of their new song, a piece that had become both his obsession and his motivation.

The soft, warm glow of the desk lamp bathed the page in a golden light, creating delicate shadows that danced across his concentrated expression. The lyrics, scrawled in a mix of ink and pencil, seemed to pulse with potential, and his eyes flicked back and forth as he mentally dissected each line, searching for the perfect harmony to complement the words.

As he engaged with the music in his mind, his fingers began to tap a calm yet energetic rhythm on the armrest, a subconscious manifestation of the melody swirling in his thoughts. It was a beat that echoed the heart of the song, a subtle yet persistent reminder of the creativity flowing through him like a current.

The room around him was enveloped in a tranquil yet charged atmosphere, filled with the quiet intensity of his focused effort. The faint aroma of fresh coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the scent of paper and ink. It was as if every word he read held the key to their next musical breakthrough, waiting for him to unlock the door to inspiration and collaborate with the rest of the band. In this sacred space, surrounded by his passion, Chan felt the weight of possibility resting on his shoulders, and he was determined to discover the magic hidden within the lyrics.

“Alright,” Chan said after a moment of contemplation, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful sigh that echoed the weight of the decision at hand. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyes glimmering with inspiration. “I think we should kick things off with Jisung for the verses; his tone just resonates so well with that section. It has this smooth quality that really captures the mood. And for the pre-chorus, how about Jeongin? His voice would bring a nice contrast. What do you think?”

You tilt your head slightly, considering the suggestion with a thoughtful expression. “That sounds good to me. However, I believe Hyunjin should take a shot at the pre-chorus as well. His unique delivery could add an intriguing edge to the piece, you know?”

Chan nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good call. Let’s test both and see what fits better.”

You glanced at your watch and blinked. The numbers glowed back at you...

11:45 PM.

You’d barely noticed how late it had actually gotten.

“Hey,” you said, setting the notebook aside with a soft thud. You stretched your arms high above your head, feeling the muscles in your back and shoulders unfurl after hours of being hunched over. A gentle sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back, the tension melting away. “We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s take a break.”

Chan glanced up, his brow furrowing slightly. “But we’re almost done-”

“Nope,” You interrupted, standing and holding a hand out to Chan. “Break time. Come on.”

With a hesitant sigh, Chan yields to your gentle insistence, allowing you to help him rise from the chair. You lead him across the room, the soft light casting a warm glow around you. Once you reach the couch, you sink into the cushions with a light thud, your body inviting him to join you.

In one fluid motion, you tug Chan down beside you, feeling the softness of the fabric beneath him as you encourage him to settle on top of you. His legs find a place nestled between yours, and you can feel the gentle weight of his body as his head rests comfortably against your chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths synchronizing in a quiet moment of intimacy.

“What are we doing?” Chan asked, bemused, as you grabbed a throw blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over the both of you.

“We’re cuddling,” You declared firmly. “Best way to recharge.”

Chan let out a soft chuckle, the sound of a gentle melody in the quiet room. He made himself comfortable beside you, his body relaxing as he leaned into your warmth. His hand found its way to your chest, resting there, and he could feel the steady, soothing rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his palm—a natural lullaby. The blanket wrapped around you both cocooned you in warmth, creating an oddly comforting atmosphere after hours of intense focus and concentration. The tranquility of the moment settled over you like a soft embrace, easing the tension of the day.

You glanced at his watch again, 11:55, and a grin tugged at the corners of your lips. You shifted slightly, pretending to adjust, and then without warning you rolled over, pinning Chan to the couch.

“Mn- what are you doing?” Chan exclaimed, eyes wide with surprise.

“Recharge time isn’t over,” you declared, a playful glint dancing in your eyes that hinted at mischief. With a burst of energy, your fingers darted toward Chan’s sides, launching an onslaught of tickles that sent him into a fit of laughter. Each touch was deliberate and relentless, the joy of the moment illuminating both of your faces as he squirmed in a joyful surrender.

Chan burst into laughter, squirming beneath you. “Stop! Mn, seriously!”

You laughed along with him, finally relenting after a few moments. Chan’s cheeks were flushed, and his hair was adorably messy from the tussle. Your heart skipped a beat.

“One more thing,” You murmured, leaning down. Before Chan could ask what you meant, you pressed your lips to Chan’s in a soft, lingering kiss.

Chan lay motionless, his eyes widening in disbelief as the world around him faded into the background. Moments later, he began to relax, surrendering to the kiss that enveloped them in warmth and sweetness. His hands gently roamed to your sides, fingers brushing lightly as you tilted your head to deepen the connection. When you finally broke free from the kiss, a satisfied, playful grin spread across your face, reflecting a mix of triumph and exhilaration.

“Kissing you might be the best way to end the year,” You teased, your voice low.

Chan blinked up at you, still dazed, before whipping his head to the side. The clock, It read 12:00 AM. Midnight.

“Mn...” Chan murmured, his gaze shifting back to you. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and amusement, a flicker of disbelief dancing across his features. As he processed what he had just heard, a small smile began to tug at the corners of his lips, hinting at his joy beneath his surprise.

Your smile widened. “Happy New Year, Hyung.”

Chan exhaled a soft, airy laugh, his breath warm against your skin. His hands moved gracefully, wrapping around your neck in a tender embrace that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. With a playful glint in his eyes, he whispered, “Happy New Year, Mnie,” his voice a sweet melody that filled the moment with warmth and joy.

Before you could utter another word, Chan captured your lips in a kiss that was deeper and more profound, each moment stretching with sweetness as if he were sealing a precious memory between you two. The studio, which had previously been enveloped in silence, now buzzed with a palpable warmth, pulsating with the thrill of uncharted possibilities and the promise of something beautifully new.

You gently pull back, a mere breath separating your lips, and rest your forehead against his, feeling the warmth radiating from him. "I-I love you... Hyung..." you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest as a wave of shyness washes over you. Chan lets out a soft chuckle, the sound filled with affection, and leans slightly to kiss the tip of your nose, a playful gesture that makes your cheeks flush. When he pulls back, his eyes are alight with joy, a radiant smile breaking across his face. One of his hands lovingly cradles your jaw, his thumb softly brushing against your skin. "Love you, too, Mnie," he replies, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves. A smile spreads across your face uncontrollably, and you bury your face in the crook of his shoulder to hide your happiness, eliciting a laugh from him that brightens the moment even more.

What an unexpected but welcomed way to start the new year.

[leezanetheofficial]

really late but 🥳

loved this!!!

[therandompagesblog-deactivated2]

Her Soul for His Soul

Summary: What happens when a university student accidentally summons a demon in the middle of her accommodation. Will the demon protect or consume her and her pretty little soul after the spirits want to hijack her body.

~ a part of the underworld series ~

This fanfiction may include distressing themes so please read with caution. MDNI All rights belong to the author. I own the created characters and plots to make this fanfiction. The themes DO NOT REPRESENT the real people. It is a dark romance themed fanfic!

⚠️ Demon, Mentions of Assault, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Torture, Mentions of Rapists, Mentions of Murderer, Misogyny, Anxiety, Depression, Angst, Fluff, Possessive, Cursing, Pet Names, Humiliation, Kinks, Gaslighting, Sexism, Dom/Sub dynamics, Foreplay, Begging, Witchcraft, Ghosts, Spirits, Horror and SMUTT⚠️

✨🔮🌙

Masterlist

Chapter 1 (🌞Y/N🌞)

Chapter 2 (🌜Seungmin🌛)

Chapter 3 (🌞Y/N🌞)

Chapter 4 (🌞Y/N🌞)

Chapter 5 (🌞Y/N🌞)

Chapter 6 (🌜Seungmin🌛)

Chapter 7 (🌞Y/N🌞)

Chapter 8 (🌜Seungmin🌛) ⚠️

Chapter 9 (🌜Seungmin🌛)

Chapter 10 (🌞Y/N🌞) ⚠️

Chapter 11 (🌞Y/N🌞)

Chapter 12 (🌜Seungmin🌛) 💦

Chapter 13 (🌞Y/N🌞)⚠️

Chapter 14 (🌞Y/N🌞)

Chapter 15 (🌜Seungmin 🌛) ⚠️

Chapter 16 (🌞Y/N🌞) ⚠️💦

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @reallychaoticwoo @leezanetheofficial @linocz @hyunmikim @eastjonowhere @skzdreamer13 @mavischerry @kiaralynn3838 @jellyleggz @mihoonz

[leezanetheofficial]

read 'Her Soul for His Soul' now! chapter 14 is out!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Where You Belong

Fem!Reader When you move into a house with 8 men for six months, one seems to be do everything he can to make you stay.

<pt2 pt3 pt4>

♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡

You sat at the dining room table, feeling as if you were under some sort of interrogation. The one you had met first- Minho, if you remembered correctly- was nowhere to be found as you sat across from the seven other men.

So much for heading to bed, you thought to yourself.

Now, instead, you were riddled with a crippling kind of anxiety. With the chaos of earlier gone, the reality of your new arrangement set in.

Concerns, both imagined and realistic, swirled in your mind.

Were they regretting accepting you? Would they kick you out? This was never the intended arrangement, but would they blame you for the miscommunication?

"So... Y/N?" A man with a prominent nose and a thick accent broke the silence.

"Yes?" you responded a bit too quickly, mentally kicking yourself for sounding nervous. Your leg jittered under the table, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by the undeniably adorable, chubby-cheeked guy sitting to your left.

"Are you anxious?" he asked softly, his warm gaze meeting yours. "We’re not going to do anything. We’re not perverts! Well, I’m not a pervert-"

A reserved-looking guy with tired puppy eyes clamped his hand over the other’s mouth, muttering something in Korean that you couldn’t entirely understand but recognized as scolding.

You laughed nervously, shaking your head. "Not exactly," you mumbled, unsure how much to reveal. Across the table, the soft-looking boy with freckles cocked his head at you, his curiosity evident.

"You don’t have to worry," the man with the thick Australian accent finally spoke, his expression kind but slightly strained. "If you’re uncomfortable with anything, you can tell us."

"I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t okay with it," you reassured him, though your voice wavered slightly. "It’s just...a big change for you guys and I feel bad for the miscommunication."

"That's understandable, but its no one's fault. Slip ups happen," the freckled boy chimed in, his tone soothing, and his accent mimicking the other guy's. "We’ll do our best to make this easy for you."

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, and you slowly began to relax. They introduced themselves one by one, though the names blurred together in your mind. The freckled boy was Felix and the other Australian was Chris, you remembered that much. The others’ names- Hyunjin, Changbin, Seungmin, Han, Jeongin - felt like puzzle pieces you’d need time to fit together.

"Wait," Jeongin piped up suddenly, his voice playful. "Do I call you noona?"

The table burst into laughter as you blinked, caught off guard. You waved your hands quickly. "I don't know much about honorifics." you clarified, your cheeks warming.

When you pieced together your birthdays Jeongin cackled maniacally.

"I can make her call me Oppa-"

"Thats perverted!"

"What did I say about the misuse of that word-"

Chaos ensued and you could see the brotherly affection between all the guys, making you curious about their stories. Your mind trailed to Minho, and you wondered where exactly he fit in the puzzle.

I hope I didn't upset him...I haven't seen him since the boys came back...

The teasing eventually died down, and the conversation flowed naturally. You couldn’t help but notice how each of them made an effort to include you, easing your initial fears. But as the night wore on, one absence grew more noticeable- Minho still hadn’t returned.

You stirred awake in the middle of the night, the unfamiliar setting still making it difficult to stay asleep.

A faint pink glow spilled into the hallway from the bathroom, catching your attention. Rubbing your eyes, you wandered toward it, your curiosity piqued.

As you reached the door, you noticed it was slightly ajar. The glow wasn’t from the usual light bulb but a neon sign that read, "Slay! Go Piss Girl!" bolted above the toilet.

Inside, Minho stood near the switch, his hand hovering over it as he squinted at the sign in a cringeworthy pain, like he couldn’t decide if it was brilliant or a mistake.

You hesitated in the doorway, unsure if you should interrupt, but the soft creak of the floor gave you away.

Minho turned his head sharply, his eyes narrowing slightly before his expression settled into something unreadable. His lips pressed into a thin line as he stood awkwardly in the pink glow.

"Uh...sorry," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as Minho stepped back slightly, giving you space to pass.

"It’s fine," he muttered, his tone clipped but not unkind. He smelled clean, as if he had just showered, though his hair was dry, and he was in the clothes he had been in earlier when you had your first unexpected meeting. He glanced back at the sign, then at you, his mouth twitching like he was debating whether to say something else. Finally, he did.

"Jisung said on FaceTime that you’d like it. He thought it’d be funny."

You blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected explanation. "Oh...well, it is funny," you said, trying to ease the tension. "It’s definitely unique."

Minho’s brows furrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms self-consciously. "I wasn’t sure it was appropriate...for, you know...a lady," he added stiffly, his gaze flicking to the sign and then back to you. "But Jisung insisted. He said it was the way people joked abroad, but I think he was just being ignorant..."

The way he said "a lady" made your lips twitch, though you bit back a smile. "People back home joke like this," you assured him, your tone light. "I think it’s...charming in its own way. My boyfriend never even decorated so even if it was the worst sign ever- the fact that you guys cared enough to decorate for a stranger means a lot."

Minho froze and then nodded curtly, but the stiffness in his posture didn’t ease. The silence stretched uncomfortably between you as the pink light bathed the small space. He shifted his weight and itched his neck, and you got the sense that he was struggling to find the right words, though it seemed like a losing battle.

"I didn't mean to make it awkward bringing up my ex-"

"About earlier," he said suddenly, his voice low but deliberate. His eyes didn’t meet yours, instead focused somewhere past your shoulder. "That...thing. With the, uh...in the kitchen. I didn’t mean...yeah."

You blinked, unsure where this was going. Then it clocked.

"Oh. It’s okay," you said quickly, trying to save him from the awkwardness. "It wasn’t a big deal."

"It looked bad," he continued, ignoring your attempt to let it go. "I didn’t mean for it to- well, you probably thought it was...an odd situation."

The corners of your lips twitched, and you had to fight the urge to laugh at how stiff he sounded. "I didn’t think anything," you said, trying to sound earnest. "Really. Other than I might have made you upset but it doesn't seem like it so everything is fine. Gwenchana 's the word right?" You said in a teaaing manner.

You managed to crack a smile from him, the pink accenting the curve of his lips.

"Yes, gwenchana."

Minho finally glanced fully at you, his expression unreadable but his ears noticeably red in the neon light. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, exhaling sharply through his nose like he was frustrated with himself.

"Good then," he muttered. "We sorted things out. Because it wasn’t intentional. I want you to feel comfortable in this house. So...there's other stuff for you too." He said motioning to the living room. "We...you can sort through it tomorrow..."

You nodded, though the tension still hung in the air. "Thanks for saying that," you said softly, trying to sound genuine. "And thanks for the gifts.

You stood in another awkward silence.

"Anyway, I was just checking the sign," he said, his tone abruptly neutral again. "It works." He nodded again, the movement jerky, before stepping back toward the door.

You couldn’t help but smile faintly at his obvious retreat. "It does," you agreed. "I'll make sure to tell Jisung it’s a hit."

Minho made a noise that might have been agreement before he slipped out of the bathroom, his figure disappearing down the hall.

You stood there a moment longer, shaking your head as you wondered if all your conversations with him would be like- if he'd always seem this uncomfortable; or if it was just the pink neon light playing tricks on both of you.

♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡🏠︎♂♂♂♂♀♂♂♂♂🏠︎♡

Taglist: @witchyquills @6demonica9 @lailac13 @furfoxsake22 @lolareadsimagines @sunnysidesins @innies-goth-gf @jolly04 @aprilmaejune77 @chancloud8 @bins-bahng @vegetablesarefuntables @skybluelixie @seekingalex @hanji-coffee @lemonn015 @riri53 @mxltshake

Permanent Taglist: @abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @thefanficqueen

[leezanetheofficial]

piss girl 😂

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

SKZ As Imaginary Friends| Angst Ver| Jeongin

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ A mom grieving. An imaginary friend who was everything she wished her son could have been. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ Warnings: Mentions of loss of newborn, Psychiatric Hospital. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Jeongin was a soft presence in her life, created from the deepest corner of her sorrow.

He was everything she wished her son could have been- perfect, innocent, full of love. She never truly expected Jeongin to show up.

Neither did Jeongin ever think he would pop up into existence.

But it seemed the grief of losing her newborn son clawed at her every day, was a wound that refused to heal. She seemed to be consumed by her hurt so deeply that Jeongin's existence was crafted.

She created him. A son that would never leave, a son she could keep safe. And love how she had intended to from the beginning.

He existed in the silence of her home, in the moments when the world around her felt too loud.

He watched her as she went about her days- sitting at the table with him for breakfast, laughing at his small jokes, brushing his hair back; teasing him that is was getting too long and he needed to get it tucked.

At first, Jeongin was uncomfortable with it. From the start he knew he wasn't real and he found it strange to feed into her delusions. He was only a figment, a wish conjured from her desperate need for what she lost.

But the more and more he was around, the more and more he realized that she was a kind lady.

And he grew to love her as if he truly was her son.

She talked to him as if he was real, like he was there. She loved him in ways she couldn't express to the people around her. She held him close when she cried, whispering to him the things she wishes she could have told her real son. She told him about her dreams for his future, her hopes, the things she wanted to share with the child she never got to raise.

And in those moments, Jeongin was everything to her. And she was everything to him. He existed, he was real to her, but he was not real at all. Nevertheless, the love was.

He tried his best to be the son she needed him to be. He listened when she talked, comforted her when the grief overwhelmed her, and promised to always be by her side.

He wanted to be her everything, even though he knew he could never truly be the person she needed him to be.

Not that he cared. As long as she felt peace with him, the state of his being was not a concern to him.

He didn't care that he was trapped in her mind; a creation of love and pain, unable to escape or break free.

But the cracks began to show as the time passed. She became more withdrawn, her eyes hollowed with the weight of grief that continued to crush her.

Jeongin watched her, helpless, as she retreated further into her world. She spoke to him less now, her once bright eyes clouded with sorrow.

One evening, as he sat beside her on the couch, she didn't acknowledge him. She didn't smile when he talked about the day, didn’t laugh at his silly jokes. She just stared straight, her mind a million miles away.

"Mom...look at me?" Jeongin said softly, his voice gentle, almost pleading. He reached out, trying to get her attention, but she didn't respond. She just stared, lost in her own thoughts, unaware that he was there, right beside her.

"I’m here," he whispers, his words barely above a breath. But they fell on deaf ears.

In that moment, Jeongin realized that he was losing her.

Or rather, she losing him.

He was fading from her mind, slipping away as the grief cycle tightened its grip on her heart. She was beginning to forget him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he vanished completely.

He had always known this would happen. He was never meant to last forever.

But it didn't mean he was prepared.

The days blurred together.

"Mommy's...gonna go away for a while." She had told him the day prior.

She was admitted to a hospital, locked away in a place that was supposed to help her heal.

Jeongin felt her heal. He measured her progress by the feeling of the distance growing between them.

He was still there, still standing at the edge of her thoughts, but she was no longer able to hear him, or see him. The doctors say it was a good thing. They tell her she’s making progress, that she’s starting to heal.

Jeongin was happy.

But it hurt more than he could have ever imagined.

One night, after a long day of talking to people who couldn’t always understand, but did their best to, she laid in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Jeongin watched her, heart heavy with the knowledge that this was it.

The end.

“Mom,” he whispered one last time, his voice breaking. “I love you.”

But she didn’t hear him. She didn’t turn toward him.

Her eyes weren't as empty anymore. Rather she was filled with acceptance. Resolve. There was the underlying of sadness streak in her features, but they were accented with the determination to continue. To fight and live.

And with that Jeongin felt the last thread of his existence snap.

The room became cold, and he watched himself in the small mirror on the wall fading, slipping away like dust on the wind.

The next morning, the nurses came in to check on her. The room was empty, save for the faint trace of his presence, but Jeongin was gone.

He disappeared, as he always knew he would.

She was still alive, still breathing, but the empty space beside her, where he used to be, was now filled only with silence.

They tell her she's made significant progress. She even smiles. But deep down she recognizes that something- someone -is missing. And even as she goes about her day, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone, somewhere, was watching over her.

But Jeongin is gone. His love, his presence- nothing but a memory that lingers just out of reach.

Occasionally as she walks through the day, she feels the weight of loss all over again. The grief is still there, swallowing her whole sometimes, and she knows she’ll never be fully be free of it, regardless of her ability to cope.

Because no matter how hard she tries, she can never bring him back.

And Jeongin? He’s left to fade in the shadows of her mind. A phantom trace of his memory tucked away in a crevice of her brain that no one is able to find. A splinter so tiny that you are destined to just live with the sting rather than spend your life trying to find where it is hiding.

A dream that never came true, a son, she can't hold again.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ I don't know why I subject myself to writing things like this. I'm too emotional right now. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

@rockstarkkami

[leezanetheofficial]

my heart 🥺💔

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

SKZ As Imaginary Friends| Angst Ver.| Changbin

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ A little girl. Plagued by cruel words likes swords. So she created an Imaginary friend who could understand. Even if it wasn't meant to be forever. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ Warnings: Suicide. Bullying. Body shaming. Pills. Paramedics. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Changbin had existed as long as he could remember.

His first memories of her were from when she was just a child, sitting on the playground alone while other kids ran past her without so much as a glance.

He had appeared one day, out of nowhere, his bright smile and playful laugh cutting through the loneliness like sunlight breaking through clouds.

“Why are you all by yourself?” he had asked, tilting his head curiously.

“No one wants to play with me,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "They say I'm fat."

Changbin, didn't understand why that was a reason for someone to be discarded. But he didn't care. She seemed like a kind soul. A child who was loved deeply- yet didn't feel it.

There was in fact difference between knowing you were loved, and believing you were.

“That’s okay,” he said, sitting beside her. “I’ll play with you.”

From that day on, Changbin became her everything.

He was the friend who sat next to her in class when no one else would, the partner for games at recess when the other kids turned their backs, and the one who always told her she was worth more than the cruel words they hurled at her.

When she came home from school with tear-streaked cheeks and an ache in her chest, he was there to make her laugh, singing silly songs or telling ridiculous jokes until she couldn’t help but smile.

She needed him, and he was happy to be needed. It felt nice to be needed.

But as the years passed, Changbin began to understand the truth about himself.

He wasn’t like the kids at school, or the family members who filled her home with their noise and presence. He couldn’t touch the things she handed him, couldn’t leave the spaces she imagined him in. When he spoke his words only reached her ears.

He was bound to her mind, existing solely in the spaces she allowed. And though she didn’t always realize it, he knew- he wasn’t real.

At first, it didn’t bother him.

He loved her, in the way that only someone created for her could. His purpose was to be her anchor, her shield against a world that seemed determined to make her feel small and invisible.

He was good at it, too. When the kids at school called her names or whispered behind her back, he was the one who reminded her how special she was. When she cried in her room, muffling her sobs into her pillow so her parents wouldn’t hear, he was the one who wiped her those tears and told her it would be okay.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop the world from hurting her.

Which made him wish more than ever he could be real. Because imaginary friends could only do so little to protect from the real enemies of the world.

By the time she reached high school, the bullying had only gotten worse. Changbin didn't understand how people could be so cruel- and for so long with no purpose.

The taunts were sharper, the laughter even louder, and the isolation more suffocating.

Changbin hated it. He hated the way they looked at her, the way they tore her down piece by piece without a second thought and with no remorse or reason.

He hated that he could do nothing but sit by and watch as her confidence was like a castle built on sand, crashing and crumbling beneath the weight of their words.

One night, after a particularly cruel day, she sat on her bed with her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes red and swollen from hours of crying.

Her parents weren't home, so she was alone yet again. Changbin was there, but it wasn't as if he was truly there.

He had heard her parents talk about it one night. They called it "seeing things". Maybe from extreme stress. They had pondered. They questioned what more could they do to help her. Could they change her schools?

They didn't know the things that were said online by here. And Changbin wished more than ever they could hear him.

He sat beside her, his chest tight with the kind of pain he couldn’t express.

“You’re amazing,” he told her softly. “You’re strong, and kind, and beautiful. Don’t let them make you forget that.”

She looked at him, her expression hollow. “Then why does it feel like they’re right?”

Changbin didn’t have an answer. He could only reach out, to take her hand in his, even though he knew she couldn’t feel it.

“You have me,” he said. “I'm made just for you. That’s got to count for something, right?”

For a moment, a ghost of a smile crossed her face. “It counts for everything.”

But even that wasn’t enough.

He saw it happening slowly, like a flame dwindling to embers.

She stopped laughing at his jokes, stopped responding to his questions.

She’d sit in her room for hours, staring at the walls, her thoughts too heavy to share. He tried everything to reach her, to pull her back from the edge, but nothing worked. He could feel her slipping away, and it terrified him.

“Talk to me,” he begged one night, kneeling in front of her as she sat motionless on her bed. “Please, just say something. Let me help you.”

"You're not real. What could you possibly do?"

Changbin looked at her, worry clouding him.

"I'm your friend."

She didn’t even blink.

The next morning, her parents found her. The empty pill bottle on her nightstand, the note on her desk. The house erupted in chaos- her mother’s screams, her father’s frantic calls for help.

Changbin stood in the corner, watching it all unfold, his heart shattering into a million pieces.

He had never felt alone with her, but now he understood.

No one could see or feel his pain. He couldn't share it because he wasn't real.

His existence wasn't acknowledgeable.

He stayed with her, hugging her as the paramedics arrived, as they tried and failed to revive her.

He stayed as her parents crumpled to the floor, holding each other as their world collapsed around them.

He stayed even as he felt himself begin to fade, his existence tied to the mind that had created him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. As they lay a sheet over her.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you.”

And then he was gone.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ My first shot at an unhappy ending :0. ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ … ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

@rockstarkkami

[leezanetheofficial]

NOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Their First Kiss With You - New Years Edition | OT8

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

Chan

The living room was alive with energy, laughter, and the faint buzz of the television announcing the final minutes of the year. Chan stood beside you, his body comfortably close to yours as you watched the younger ones anticipated the start of the countdown.

His hand brushed against your arm, sending a wave of warmth through you despite the slight chill of the winter air seeping through the windows. You instinctively shifted closer to him. 

“Are you ready for the New Year?” he asked softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of conversations around you. There was something in his tone, a nervous anticipation that made your heart race.

“I think so,” you replied, your lips curling into a small smile. "I'm hoping it will come with a lot of good things."

The countdown began, the room’s energy heightening as everyone shouted,

“Ten… nine… eight…”

Chan turned to you, his eyes holding a quiet intensity that made the world around you fade away.

"Y/N-ah."

“Seven… six… five…”

His hand found its way to your waist, grounding you in the moment.

“Four… three…”

His eyes questioned you. You blinked back, not wanting to move.

He leaned in, his voice a whisper that only you could hear. “I’ve been waiting for this all year.”

“Two… one… Happy New Year!”

The room erupted in cheers, but all you could focus on was the feel of his lips against yours. The kiss was soft, lingering, and filled promise of a new meaning to what you guys were. When he finally pulled away, his cheeks were flushed, and a bright smile lit up his face.

"Happy New Year, yeobo." You said, testing the waters, making sure this meant what you thought it meant.

“Happy New Year, jagiya.” he said, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Happy New Year."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

Minho

The party was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air. Minho stood next to you, his sharp eyes watching the chaos of couples getting ready for midnight. He leaned casually against the counter, his expression a mix of amusement and something unreadable.

“Everyone’s making such a big deal about it. It a bit much, isn't it?” he commented, gesturing to the eager couples crowding near the clock. He crossed his arms, his muscles tensing under his black turtleneck.

You had once mentioned to him how nice he looked in black, and tonight only proved your point. Paired with his black slacks, and silver watch it was like looking at a painting of a man.

“It’s tradition,” you teased, nudging him lightly. “Besides, why don't you?”

He glanced at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Depends. Should I?”

“Two minutes!” someone shouted, and the room buzzed with renewed energy.

"There are literally countless people who would like pay to kiss the Lee Minho."

"Would you?" He shot back quickly.

"What- are you crazy why would you ask a question like that?" You said, your face heating up. Because you wouldn't- no you couldn't- ever tell him that you wish he'd kiss you for free.

He hummed as the time went down to a minute. "So do you care? About the kiss...keeping tradition?

"You don't so I don't. It's cool to be different." You said, trying to tease him to get rid of your earlier flusteredness.  

Lee Know’s hand brushed yours, his fingers hesitating before curling around your hand.

“Maybe I do,” he admitted, his voice softer now. His catlike eyes drew their way from your hands to your face

As the countdown began, his attention shifted entirely to you and only you. “Ten… nine…” The seconds ticked by, and the anticipation in his gaze made your heart flutter in ways you hadn't felt before.

When the room erupted with cheers at midnight, his hand moved to gently cradle your cheek. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender and deliberate. It wasn’t rushed or overly dramatic; it was just Minho, perfectly in tune with the moment.

When he pulled back, his usual smirk was replaced by a softer, almost shy smile. “Happy New Year,” he murmured. “Not bad for a first kiss, huh?”

"Well...um...you...it was...short." You said, refusing to look him in the eyes.

"Must you always be so stubborn, kitten?" He said with another kiss, pulling back with a slight nip. "If its not up to standard we have the entire year to practice." He whispered, pulling you to his chest.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

Changbin

The energy in the room was electric as everyone crowded together, waiting for the clock to strike midnight.

Changbin may have been short, but his strength held you on his shoulders so you could see the screen above the crowd of people. It was first New Year's in Korea, and spending in with the guy you had befriended so quickly and come to find yourself falling for was all that you could wish for.

Getting to watch the tradition of your home country's celebration.

Changbin bounced you up and down, fueled by your giggles, his excitement palpable as he glanced between the screen and the massive clock on the wall.

“Are you ready?” he asked, maneuvering his head to watch you, his grin wide and infectious.

“For the New Year?” you teased, though your heart raced at the thought of what might come next.

“For this,” he said, bringing you down to the ground, his voice serious enough to make your cheeks heat up.

“Ten… nine… eight…” The countdown started, and Changbin cupped your cheeks, his expression a mix of excitement and nervousness.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

Before you could process the moment, his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer. His lips found yours in a kiss that was bold and passionate, his enthusiasm making you smile against his lips. His lips forming into the same shape.

When he pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled with joy. “Happy New Year,” he said, his grin stretching even wider. “I think we’re off to a pretty great start, don’t you?”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

Hyunjin

The stars glittered above as you and Hyunjin stood on the balcony, wrapped in blankets to stave off the chilly winter air. The sound of distant fireworks and muffled laughter from inside set the perfect backdrop.

You had escaped to rid the anxiety. Being around Hyunjin...the New Year's traditions...

But he had followed you outside just minutes after, wrapping a blanket around you, then himself. And now here you were.

“It’s almost midnight,” he said, his voice soft and melodic. His hand brushed against yours under the blanket, and you didn't know if it was by accident or not but regardless is sent a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

“I guess it is,” you replied, turning to find his eyes already on you.

“Ten… nine…” The countdown began faintly from inside, but the moment felt entirely yours. Hyunjin’s hand found yours once more, his fingers lacing through yours gently.

“Three… two… one… Happy New Year!”

He leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was slow and gentle, like he was savoring every second. The fireworks exploded in the distance, but all you could feel was the warmth of his touch and the softness of his lips.

When he pulled away, his cheeks were dusted pink, and a dreamy smile played on his lips. “Happy New Year,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion as he brushed your hair off your forehead, leaving another kiss there. “I think this might be my favorite one yet.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

Han

The studio was buzzing with quiet excitement as the minutes ticked closer to midnight. The other members were scattered around the living room, some on their phones, others munching on leftovers from a very late dinner, Chan working on music.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning against the tattered couch, while Han fidgeted with the hem of his sweater from where he sat beside you.

His usual bubbly energy seemed muted, replaced by a nervousness that made you glance at him curiously.

"What’s up with you tonight? You’re awfully quiet," you asked, poking him lightly on the shoulder.

Han laughed, a little too loud, and scratched the back of his head. "Quiet? Me? Never. I’m just...you know, enjoying the vibes."

You raised an eyebrow but let it slide. "Okay, whatever you say, Ji."

The countdown on the small TV began, and the room filled with voices calling out the numbers. Han suddenly leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the noise. "If...I wanted to make this New Year special, would you let me?"

"What do you mean?" you asked, your heart skipping a beat.

"You’ll see," he said with a small grin. "Just trust me."

Before you could say anything, the countdown hit zero. Han closed the gap between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and so unmistakably him.

When he pulled back, his face was a deep shade of red, but his eyes sparkled with relief and happiness.

"Happy New Year," he said, grinning ear to ear. "I think we should make this more than a tradition."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

Felix

The dorm was quiet compared to the usual chaos, with everyone lounging around and chatting quietly as the New Year approached.

Felix sat on the floor near the coffee table, organizing some snacks that no one seemed interested in anymore. You were beside him, leaning against the loveseat idly playing with the tassels of a pillow.

"Do you think next year will be better than this one?" Felix asked suddenly, his voice soft, as he placed a cracker on a plate.

You looked over at him, surprised by the question. "I hope so. Why? Are you worried about something?" You asked moving closer to him.

He shook his head, his lips curving into a small smile. "Not worried, just...hopeful. There’s a lot I want to do, you know? A lot I want to say."

The countdown began, and Felix glanced at the TV before turning his attention back to you. His big brown eyes looked at you, twinkling.

"Can I tell you one of those things now?" he asked, his tone unusually serious.

"Of course," you replied, your curiosity piqued.

"I like you, Y/N-ah."

As the numbers reached zero, Felix leaned in, his hands trembling slightly as they cupped your face. His lips met yours in a kiss that was filled with unspoken emotions. When he pulled back, his cheeks were flushed, but his smile was radiant.

You immediately frowned, missing the feel of his lips on yours, to which he chuckled.

"Happy New Year," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the cheers around you. "This is already my favorite one."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

Seungmin

The dorm was cozy, with blankets draped over the couches and a faint scent of hot chocolate lingering in the air. Seungmin sat at the edge of the couch, scrolling through his phone, while you sat beside him, your legs tucked underneath you.

"Do you ever think about how weird New Year’s is?" Seungmin asked suddenly, not looking up from his screen.

You tilted your head, intrigued. "Weird how?"

"I mean, it’s just a day, right? But everyone makes such a big deal out of it," he replied, finally setting his phone down. "It’s like they think a single night can change everything."

You laughed. "Well, maybe it can. Doesn’t hurt to try."

The countdown started, and Seungmin’s brow furrowed as he glanced at you. "Do you think this year was good?"

"I think it was okay," you said honestly. "What about you?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "It was mediocre. Because of you."

"Becuase of me? Am I that horrible Kim Seungmin?" You joked.

"No. You're just that wonderful." He said in a rare moment of vulnerability. "And I started off on a horrible note because I didn't get to do this-"

You hadn't even realized the countdown was over when Seungmin leaned in and kissed you. It was quick, almost shy, but his hand lingered on yours as he pulled away, his usual calm exterior cracked just enough to show a hint of what he felt for you.

""Happy New Year," he said, his voice triumphant. "I can have a good one now.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

I.N

Jeongin was sprawled out on the floor, his head resting on a pillow as he chatted with the other members. You were sitting on the couch above him, occasionally chiming into the conversation but mostly watching him with amusement.

As the countdown approached, he turned his head to look up at you. "You’re not yapping tonight. What's up?" he remarked with a grin. "What’s on your mind?"

"Just thinking about the year," you said. "It went by so fast."

"Yeah, it did," he agreed, sitting up and stretching. "But I think it was a good one. Because I met you."

Your eyes widened as he smiled at you.

The final countdown began, and Jeongin stood, offering you his hand. "Come on, we have to do this properly."

"Do what properly?" you asked, letting him pull you to your feet.

"Celebrate," he said simply, his grin widening.

As the clock struck midnight, Jeongin leaned in and kissed you, his confidence surprising you. When he pulled back, his cheeks were bright red, but his smile was unshakable.

"Happy New Year," he said, his voice tinged with pride. "You’re stuck with me now."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆⋆

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

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[leezanetheofficial]

ejdbfsjxnsjsjzn this was so good 😍

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Where You Belong | Pt2

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<pt1 pt2 pt3>

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[leezanetheofficial]

we love changbin the feminist 🖤

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

girl i love your stories that i reread them A LOT. idk if your request is open but if it's not then you can do it whenever I WILL WAIT MY WHOLE LIFE FOR IT

some angst (but end with fluff) about y/n being bad at directions (me tbh) so she keeps clinging to minho and his friends (during idk maybe their tour in japan or other vacations)so when minho snaps at her she left the restaurant immediately and thought about going back to hotel but get lost and her phone died then when minho find out she's not back till late at night he starts going crazy looking for her around

i'll let you get creative from here! tq!!!!

I hope you enjoy!!!

The trip to Japan had been an exhilarating whirlwind of sights and sounds. But for you, it also became a constant struggle to keep up with the group. Your terrible sense of direction was something you’d always laughed off, but here, in the bustling chaos of unfamiliar streets, it felt like a glaring flaw. You clung to Minho more than you intended to, relying on him to guide you when you inevitably got turned around.

By the third day, his patience began to wear thin.

It started with small sighs, then curt remarks. But tonight, as you hesitated once again at an intersection, unsure which way to go, Minho snapped. His voice cut through the group’s chatter, sharp and biting.

“For God’s sake, Y/N, can you stop acting helpless for five minutes? It’s not that hard to figure out where we’re going.”

The words stung like a slap, and the embarrassment that followed was suffocating. The others fell silent, their eyes darting between the two of you. Chan stepped forward, his voice firm and reprimanding.

“Minho, that’s enough! You don’t ever talk to her like that. You hear me?”

Minho opened his mouth to retort but quickly shut it, guilt flashing across his face under Chan's firm glare. Still, the damage was done. You felt small and out of place, like an unwelcome burden. Chan gave you a shoulder squeeze before going to scold Minho a bit more. The group resumed walking, the atmosphere tense as all the boy looked over in your direction with awkward and pitiful glances. Felix and Jeongin tried to lighten your mood by talking casually with you, but the lump in your throat wouldn't shake.

When you reached the restaurant, you quietly excused yourself, claiming you needed some air. No one stopped you. Outside, the cool night air hit your face as tears blurred your vision. You decided to head back to the hotel, thinking it was better to remove yourself from the group altogether.

But as you wandered through the maze of streets, panic began to set in. Every turn seemed to lead to another unfamiliar alley, and your phone’s battery was dwindling fast. When it finally died, leaving you stranded without maps or a way to contact anyone, fear took hold.

Back at the restaurant, the group noticed your prolonged absence. Jisung was the first to speak up, glancing around nervously.

“Uh, has anyone seen Noona? She’s been gone for a while.”

Minho, who had been unusually quiet since his outburst, froze. Chan frowned, his protective instincts kicking in.

“I’ll check outside,” Jisung offered, already heading for the door. He returned a few minutes later, his expression grim.

“She’s not out there,” he said, his voice edged with worry. “I think she’s gone.”

Minho shot to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest. “What do you mean, gone?”

“I don’t know!” Jisung replied, his voice rising. “I can’t find her anywhere. She’s not answering her phone either.”

The weight of the situation hit Minho like a freight train. His earlier anger dissolved into a nauseating mix of fear and guilt. Without another word, he bolted out of the restaurant, desperate to find you.

You’d been wandering for what felt like hours when a man approached you. He looked to be in his fifties, his kind eyes and warm smile a stark contrast to the bustling city around you.

“Are you lost?” he asked in Japanese. You nodded, tears streaming down your face as you tried to explain your situation.

“Come,” he said gently, switching to broken English. “My daughter recognized you. Said you are with boyfriend, Minho? Safe at our house. You charge phone.”

Too exhausted and desperate to refuse, you followed him to a modest house nearby. His daughter, a young woman about your age, greeted you with tea and a charger. The warmth of their home was comforting, but your heart ached with the weight of the evening’s events.

Minho was spiraling. He darted from street to street, asking anyone he came across if they’d seen you. When he entered a small cafe, the owner paused, recognizing your description.

“Yes,” she said. “She left with an older man. He seemed…kind. Not dangerous.”

Her words did little to calm Minho’s fraying nerves. The thought of you- vulnerable and alone- with a stranger nearly pushed him to the brink of a breakdown. His hands trembled as he tried to focus.

“Where? Which way did they go?” he demanded.

She pointed him in the right direction, and he took off without a second thought. When he finally reached the house and saw you through the window, sitting safely with the older man and his daughter, the relief was overwhelming. He knocked and burst through the door, his chest heaving.

“Y/N,” he choked out, rushing to your side. “Are you okay? I was…I was so scared.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Minho pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if to make sure you were really there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I…I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I didn’t mean it. I…I can’t lose you.”

You let out a shaky breath, but before you could respond, the daughter handed you a photo card she’d been holding. It was of Minho, from a recent album. She giggled nervously, gesturing to the collection spread out across the table.

“I'm a big fan,” she said in English, and you couldn’t help but smile. "So, I recognized her from your posts."

“Thank you for helping her,” Minho said to her and the father in Japanese, his voice hoarse. Then, in a move that stunned everyone, he sank to his knees. Lowering himself further until his forehead almost touched the ground, he bowed deeply, the ultimate gesture of gratitude and humility, as he cried out words you couldn't understand, but the small family did.

“Thank you,” he said again in English, his voice trembling. “Thank you for keeping her safe. Thank you.”

The father’s eyes widened in surprise before he helped Minho up, patting his shoulder reassuringly before he looked at you. “She…good girl. You take care of her, yes?”

Minho nodded fervently, his gaze flickering to you. “Always.”

As the family waved you off, Minho kept a protective arm around you the entire walk back to the hotel. Neither of you spoke much, but his grip on you never loosened, his actions speaking louder than words ever could.

By the time you reached the entrance you took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry-"

Minho pulled you into his chest before you could say anything else. "You scared me." He whispered. "I was so scared- people...they can be dangerous."

You didn't say anything, just sunk further into his embrace, your lips turning into a pout as Minho held you.

"You found her?" Chan's accent cut through the sound of Minho's rapid heartbeat as him and Han rushed over. "I'll call the rest of the guys and tell them to come back."

Another wave of guilt hit you and you tried to sputter out another apology but Han spoke.

"It's not your fault Y/N. It's Minho's for acting that way."

You looked up at Minho, whose eyes were blank. "I'm tired. Let's head to bed." He said quietly, pulling you along. He walked into your hotel room and kicked off his shoes, pulling you under the covers with him.

He pulled you flush against his chest and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He said again. "I'm a horrible boyfriend." You turned in the bed towards him, and your heart tugged at seeing his eyes. He had been silently crying, and when he felt he didn't want you to see him cry any longer he buried his face in your chest, hugging you closer.

"I forgive you. You don't have to say sorry."

"I do. I put you in a dangerous position because of my frustrations. That's ignorant of me. If anything had happened-" His voice was muffled but you heard the slight crack in it.

'Well, nothing happened so I'm okay. I'm safe. And the father and daughter were such a cute little family and kind. You were her bias as well so if anything I was probably the most safe there." You teased. Minho didn't say anything instead pulled the blanket tighter around you.

You sighed and closed your eyes, deciding to just let Minho wallow. When he thought you were asleep he moved the strands of hair stuck to your cheek and laid a gentle kiss there.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight for the rest of this trip." You stayed still as he placed another kiss on the corner of your lips, then forehead.

"I love you, jagiya." He murmured, before resting his forehead against yours, a drifting off into a dreamless sleep with you.

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[leezanetheofficial]

this is so me, i suck with directions

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

Where You Belong

Fem!Reader When you move into a house with 8 men for sixth months, one seems to be doing everything he can to make you want to stay.

pt1 >> pt2

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The day had been long, stretching endlessly as you navigated your shift. Your feet ached, and your shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion. Moving, working, and trying to rebuild some semblance of stability in your life had left you drained.

You hadn’t expected life to take such a sudden turn. It was only a week ago that you found yourself packing up what little you had, unsure where you’d go next. The breakup had been ugly- words thrown like weapons, blame passed back and forth until there was nothing left but silence. The apartment, once shared, wasn’t yours anymore.

That’s when your best friend had swooped in with a lifeline: her brother had just moved out of his shared house, and there was a room open, rent already paid for six months in advance. It was a win-win situation. You needed a place to stay, and they needed the extra support with a few miscellaneous things until they found a permanent replacement.

You’d been hesitant, but it wasn’t like you had much choice, and desperation had won out. Now here you were, living in a house with eight men you hadn’t even met yet. Little enough stuff to move within a few hours before your shift, you hadn’t encountered any of them yet. Supposedly, they were away for the weekend. It had been a relief to have some time to yourself to adjust before the chaos of introductions.

The bus ride home from work felt endless, the sun already dipping below the horizon by the time you arrived at the house. Juggling your bag and keys, you pushed the door open, letting the what would soon be familiar warmth of the house greet you.

Kicking off your shoes and placing them by over twenty pairs of men’s sneakers and boots, you set your bag down and ran a hand through your hair, sighing deeply. The house was quiet, as expected, and you padded toward the kitchen, hoping to find something quick to eat before collapsing into bed.

But as you rounded the corner, you stopped in your tracks.

There, standing at the stove, back to you, was a man. He was tall, lean, and undeniably striking, his figure illuminated by the soft glow of the kitchen light. His broad shoulders tapered to a narrow waist that would be enough to spark envy in anyone, and his skin seemed to catch the light just right, showing off the subtle definition of his muscles. He was wearing nothing but sweatpants, slung low on his hips, exposing the faint lines of his torso that dipped into private territory. A small scar rested low on his stomach, barely noticeable but still catching your attention.

The room felt too quiet, save for the faint sizzle of whatever he was cooking. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t speak.

And then, as if sensing your presence, he turned.

For a split second, his gaze locked onto yours. His expression was unreadable at first- neutral, almost bored- but then his eyes widened slightly, his brows drawing together in confusion. His gaze flicked downward, to where your eyes were unashamedly staring and suddenly, his arms moved to cover himself, one hand crossing over his lower abdomen while the other hovered near his chest.

“Who-” His voice was low, quiet but sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife. He didn’t finish the question, his eyes narrowing as if trying to place you.

“Hi,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, his expression darkening slightly before he turned abruptly, retreating down the hall without another word.

You stood there, heart hammering, unsure whether to follow or give him space. The faint sound of a door closing reached your ears, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

A moment later, he reemerged, now wearing an oversized hoodie that hung loosely over his frame. His hair was still damp, sticking to his forehead in places, and his cheeks were faintly pink, though you weren’t sure if it was from exertion or embarrassment.

As he walked back toward you, a cat darted in front of him, and in his rush to avoid stepping on it, he tripped. His arms flailed slightly, and before you could think, you reached out instinctively.

Your hands landed on his chest as he caught himself on the counter, his other hand gripping the edge for balance.

“Careful,” you murmured, your voice shaky.

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze locked on yours. Up close, his features were even more striking- sharp cheekbones, a strong jawline, and eyes that seemed to pierce right through you.

He cleared his throat, stepping back and brushing past you. “Who are you?”

“Y/N,” you said quickly. “Your new roommate. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

There was a long pause before he finally spoke. “We thought… we thought you were a guy.”

You blinked. “A guy? I thought...?”

His brow twitched, and he muttered something under his breath before turning back toward the stove. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed, flustered, or some combination of both. He then turned back around, running his fingers through his long hair and undeniably fluffy looking hair. His eyes wide and fiery.

"Not at all - why would we let a girl move in with 8 men?!" He said, his voice suddenly defensive.

"I don't know I thought you guys were desperate! Why are you even here?!"

"Because I live here?!"

"You were supposed to be gone!"

"Well plans change-"

Heat rushed to your face as you processed his words. “I didn’t know you didn’t know. My friend…she just said the room was available, and I assumed-”

“It’s fine.” he interrupted, his voice sharp but shaky. He let out a small sigh, leaning against the counter. “It’s…fine. Just a misunderstanding. A huge one, though. An annoying one.”

You stepped forward prepared to scold him. "That's really rude-"

"YAH!" He screamed out and he quickly rushed to squat and shoo his cat who you were dangerously close to stepping on away. The quick movement giving him little time to properly balance, so he reached out and grab you for stability.

You tensed as his large hands were wrapped around your calf and back upper thigh, and you immediately tried to pull back which only resulted in you falling on your rear and the guy landing on one knee, his hand in between your legs.

When he realized the situation he turned a deep red and fell back, his hand landing on the cats tail- making the moment even more chaotic and his original act of playing hero all for naught.

Before either of you could respond, the sound of the footsteps echoed through the house. Voices followed-loud, boisterous, and distinctly male. Accompanied with the sound of even more animals. Your eyes widened in panic as the realization hit you. The rest of the housemates were also back.

“Minho-ah!” one of them called. “We’re home early to take care of you!”

The man on the floor with you- Minho, apparently- looked up and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.

Before you could ask anything a group of guys spilled into the kitchen, their laughter and chatter dying abruptly as they took in the scene. Seven pairs of eyes darted between you and Minho, their expressions ranging from confusion to outright shock.

“Uh…” one of them began, his gaze lingering on Minho's angry face before shifting to you. “Hyung...what is going on here?”

Minho cleared his throat, covering the bottom half of his face as if to shield himself from their scrutiny. “This is Y/N...our new roommate.” His voice trailed off awkwardly.

Silence.

“Y/N?” another voice piped up, disbelief coloring his tone. “You mean…Y/N’s a girl?”

Minho shot you a sidelong glance, his lips quirking in a faint, frown. “Surprise,” he said dryly.

The room erupted into chaos- questions flying, even more chaos ensuing and Minho’s quiet sigh of resignation lost in the commotion.

You couldn’t help but freeze, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting you as you stood in front of the eight men, whose gazes who harbored an immense amount of shock and confusion, and realized you were in for a very interesting six months.

———————————————————————————

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[leezanetheofficial]

i'm very late but also excited!