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bangchanbabygurl · 10 months

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Silent Cry |03: Sweet Boy

Genre: Romance/Angst/Fluff/Smut/Idolxfan

Warnings: Explicit language, mature themes, mentions of depression, suicide, self-harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, toxicity, sex scenes, and mention of SA.

Member: Chan

Word Count: 1087 words

I look at my reflection one last time before walking out of the room to see Andy waiting patiently, “You ready for your interview?” He asked. I let a small sigh leave my lips as I nodded, “All set,” I said as we walked out of the apartment. I memorized some of the guys names from next door; Felix, the ray of sunshine, walked out of the apartment. “Oh, good morning Lexi,” Felix said with a smile. I smiled at him and waved, “Good morning Felix,” I said with a small smile.

I was nervous for the interview, and I hope my nerves weren't showing. “Morning Andy, are you two off to wander the city?” Felix asked as we all walked to the elevator. Andy smiles as he places a hand on my shoulder, “Lexi here has a big interview for a job posting in the city.” Andy said; Felix smiled and clapped lightly. “Congratulations Lexi, I’ll be cheering for you. Fighting!” Felix exclaimed with a fist; Andy and I let out small giggles. “gamsahabnida,” I said with a shy smile. I’ve been teaching myself Korean ever since I stumbled into a bookstore nearby. I was able to find some helpful books that will help me understand and speak Korean. Felix smiles with a small nod.

The elevator doors open, “See you around, neighbors.” Felix said, leaving first. Andy and I glanced at each other and walked out of the elevator. “Well, that was some encounter,” Andy said with a smile, “You know, I read and heard that Felix was polite and sweet; I didn't expect to experience it myself,” Andy said. I looked at him confused but shrugged it off as we left the apartment complex.

Andy hands me a card; I look at the design. “What’s this?” I asked, looking at him. Andy smiles as we wait for the bus. “That is a bus card; you can use it whenever.” He said; I nodded my head in amusement. “Okay, first things first, once I start to work, you and I will have to buy a car,” I said. Andy laughs and pinches my cheek, “You are so cute when you start to make plans that probably won't happen 1. Cars are fucking expensive, 2. We don't need well. I don't need a car, love. I'm happy riding the bus; it's more convenient for me.” He said. I sighed and nodded, “Now can we talk about your outfit real quick,” Andy said with a smirk.

I was merely wearing black cargo pants with a dark grey long-sleeve and All-Star Converse with my new favorite black coat. “What's wrong with my outfit?” I asked. Andy shakes his head. “You look stunning like mouth watery stunning,” He said with a smirk, “I still can't believe you landed an interview with Mr. Park. Like what the fuck,” Andy said as we entered the bus. I let a chuckle escape my lips. I grip my bookbag as we sit in the middle aisle next to a group of high school teens. I bite my bottom lip as I anxiously wait for the ride to come to a stop.

The bus ride was 30 minutes from the apartment complex to this big-looking building; I let out a small breath as I followed Andy into the lobby. “gusmoning JYP enteoteinmeonteue osin geos-eul hwan-yeonghabnida.” A woman in her mid-thirties said with a smile, Andy and I bow with a smile. “annyeonghaseyo Lexi Navorro inteobyuleul wihae wassseubnida.” Andy said. The woman nodded, “Follow me this way,” She said, leading us deeper into the building. “You must be Lexi. My name is Kim Soy-rin, assistant manager of Mr. Park Jin-young, founder of JYP Entertainment. The reason why this interview will be a bit rush is we are short-staffed for one of our groups, and I hope you can start real soon.” Ms. Kim said with a hopeful tone.

We enter the elevator; I wipe my sweaty palms on my coat as we pass four levels. Andy was in awe as his eyes lit up every time we stepped foot in a different room, “And judging from your resume and degree, Mr. Park found you as the perfect candidate for this position.” Ms. Kim said with a smile as we passed by many rooms. There was music coming from one of the rooms, along with the sound of footsteps from another. I gulped as we got closer to the destination, I could hear people being loud and filled with concern.

Ms. Kim knocked on the door, and silence met us as the door opened, revealing an ordinary man in his forties. “Mr. Park, this is Ms. Navorro, our candidate.” Ms. Kim said. I looked at Mr. Park and bowed, “annyeonghaseyo, seutailliseuteu jigchaeg-eul matgo issneun Lexi Navorroibnida.” I spoke with a nervous smile. Mr. Park smiled as we opened the door wider. I felt my heart drop to the pit of my stomach as I was met with all eight of Andy’s neighbors. Oh boy, oh boy, oh god realization hit me. Stray Kids!?

I do my best to keep my posture and stay calm as Mr. Park introduces me to the group as their new stylist. I gave them a shy smile and bowed to them, “annyeonghaseyo, je ileum-eun Lexi Navarroibnida. yeolsimhi ilhago pil-yohal ttaemada chaj-aboebgessseubnida.” I said loud and clear. I look at Felix, who had a smile this whole time. Andy? I saw he was nowhere to be seen, along with Ms. Kim. I start to feel even more nervous, wildly, when a very muscular guy with a very intimidating look just stares at me as the rest of the members ask Mr. Park about the other stylist that was here before me. I’ve heard some of their music before; Hellevator, I believe, was one of the songs I heard during a stay at the hospital.

I bite my bottom lip as Mr. Park says my name. I look at him and back at the group. “Lexi here will not only be your stylist, but she’s assigned to one member only; as for the rest of you, you all still have your stylists.” Mr. Park said with a smile, oh fuck, which member am I assigned to? Fuck this is not what I thought I signed up for. Mr. Park looks at the second muscular one, the one who came looking for Andy three weeks ago. Fuck I’m Bang Chan’s stylist!!?

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milkybonya · 2 years

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☆彡romance symphony

🎼 love as: i love you so much that you've changed my perception of the world_낭만교향곡

🎼 track 01 of the 낭만 (NANGMAN) -- do you believe in romance? series

🎼 Changbin falls so hard for the flute player in an orchestra that he forgets he's a hip-hop rapper

#warnings!: 3racha, some angst, takes a while for y/n and Changbin to officially meet, only half proof read, definitely more than 1k words but idk exactly how long T-T

[💌: band kids raise your hands! band kids who were flute players raise your hands! i dedicate this to you <3 hehe]

being a musician means learning to appreciate all genres of music. you don't have to succeed in all of them, but you can't be ignorant and turn a blind eye on everything but the genre you choose to pursue.

so far, hard-headed Changbin has only had eyes and ears for rap and hip-hop. he's had no patience for any other kind of sound. every night, he writes angry rap lyrics with his two best friends, Han and Chan.

until Chan decides he's had enough.

the three boys seem to have hit a slump: always arguing, songs always left unfinished, no new ideas, everything sounds the same... so, he searches for a way to save his boys from this mess.

tickets to the local orchestra performance.

somehow, this ends up being the solution. his mom has some tickets handy and Chan begs for her to give them to him, which she does.

"guys, guys! are you free saturday night? wait, scratch that. you will be free saturday night. we're gonna see an orchestra performance and neither of you are allowed to miss it!" Chan tells his friends in their makeshift studio.

"orchestra? pfft hyung, come on now. we should be seeing rappers! orchestra?" Changbin scoffs, shaking his head.

Han stays quiet, considering the idea.

"don't tell me you're agreeing to this," Changbin tells Han, who shrugs.

"you're all agreeing, 'cause if you don't come, us, 3racha will be no more!" Chan exclaims.

"we'll disband over not attending an orchestra performance?!" Han finally chimes in.

"yeah, so... choose wisely," Chan says, laying the tickets on the small desk in the room.

"hyung, what do we wear?" Han asks Chan on the phone.

the three boys are all at their own places, getting ready to leave for the performance they gave in to seeing.

"well, obviously not streetwear. something smart, neat," Chan explains.

all Changbin can find is a white and blue striped dress shirt along with cream-coloured pants. luckily, he has dress shoes as well.

"and please, let's neatly do our hair! no hiding it under hats," Chan says.

eventually, the boys show up to the performance. they turn heads. anyone would want to stare at a trio of handsome, young men dressed neatly. the boys, though, think it's because something is wrong with their appearance. they nervously try to maintain confidence, fidgeting with their buttons and looking at their shoes to 'make sure' they're clean.

during one of these moments when Changbin is preoccupied with making sure he looks okay, he bumps into...

you.

you, who has lost their way trying to get to the break room for some water. flute in hand, dressed like an angel from head to toe.

there is no time for you and Changbin to exchange proper greetings, since you're in a rush. all you can manage is a 'sorry' before you rush off.

yet, Changbin gets a good look at you and how your fingers grasp the flute with ease, proof that you've had to hold the instrument up an infinite amount of times. you and your delicate hair, your gorgeous eyes, your precious lips and lovely nose. the way your attire flutters slightly as you rush past.

you leave him in a daze but he shrugs it off, following his friends to their assigned seats.

once they're there, Han marvels at how close they're seated.

"your mom is the coolest, Chan! She got us seats this close?!" Han exclaims.

"the tickets were for herself at first so... but i'm glad you're happy!" Chan cooes Han, tickling the bottom of his chin while Han laughs.

their loud, wild behaviour sets them apart from everyone else. the people around them are all sophisticated, calm, quiet. seeing them, Changbin suts up straight and clears his throat, neatly crossing his arms.

"are you doing royal family roleplay or what?" Han scoffs at him.

"might as well play the part if we're in such a fancy place," Changbin says, followed by hums of agreement from Chan.

Han sits back in his seat, slouching. he's stubborn, never willing to bend for anyone. and up until now, Changbin thought he was the same, too. he won't be able to pinpoint why he suddenly decides to sit up straight in that theatre at that moment until years later, when he discovers it to be because of you.

you, who scurries up on stage right as he remembers you.

sitting so close means he can see and recognize you well as you take your seat in the front row, stage left. he holds his breath as he watches the orchestra tuning themselves. he hopes you'll do a good job, even though he somehow already knows you will.

as the audience goes quiet and the performance begins, for some reason, he can't take his eyes off you. he loves how you're absorbed in the music, body swaying slightly and foot tapping to keep the beat.

then, oh then, you have a solo for a few seconds! maybe for close to a minute!! the lights dim and the onoy spotlight is on you. Changbin is holding his breathe the entire time, feeling both intrigued and nervous. he's in awe hearing and watch you play those notes together so quickly.

once your solo ends, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, relaxing in his seat. he can't believe you just did that..

the performance ends and everyone claps as the performers take a bow before exiting the stage. Changbin stands up, eager to see if he can find you and find out your name, anything at all about you.

"why the rush?" Chan ask, eyeing Changbin.

"just gotta go to the bathroom," Changbin says. Chan and Han let him go first.

he rushes out of the seating area and towards the lobby. wandering around, he finds the waiting room for all the performers. there's no way he'll go in there, that would just be plain rude. but, he can't resist peeking inside when the door is already open...

"y/n, your flute case is over here! i can't believe you. you've got so many keychains attached to it but still lose the damn thing."

Changbin watches you rush over to the person who spoke, laughing and taking your flute case from them.

so... your name is y/n? and you like keychains on your flute case. Changbin smiles down at the ground. you're so precious...

he leaves before anyone seems him and returns to his friends.

"so, how was that?" Chan asks.

"can we go to the next one?" Changbin sheepishly replies.

"huh?!" says Han.

"the next one.. it's in two weeks, here again. seems like they hold a performance here every two weeks."

"wow... i didn't know you liked it that much," Chan says.

Changbin isn't sure if he 'liked it' or just likes you.

from that day on, with or without his friends, Changbin attends every single one of your performances. he also reads up on classical music, starts watching romance instead of comedies and even finds himself eating healthier.

the existence of a graceful, angelic flute player in his life sends all his hip-hop habits down the drain.

it's as though your performances are lectures he studies up for, learning names of composers just so he can recognize when you perform their pieces. you always have his full attention and his eyes are always on you.

"hey, Changbin.. this idea is actually not half bad!" Chan says after Changbin suggests something in their studio.

he's always at his highest after watching one of your performances.

"y/n's solo made me think about writing the topline like this, for some reason," Changbin says, blushing slightly.

"you simp," Han says, patting Changbin's back aggressively.

"shut up," Changbin replies, scowling but turning red immediately.

that night, the song writing is super fast. the three boys get it done on the spot and release it on several music streaming sites as they usually do, not really expecting much.

until the next day, they wake up to the song doing numbers they could have never imagined.

have you heard of 3racha?! their newest song blew up, but even their old songs are so good!

i'm definitely a fan.. i think Han is gonna be my favourite

do you think they'll ever perform live?

thousands and thousands of comments appeared on youtube for them, along with messages on instagram and twitter, tags and mentions on all platforms. the boys were overwhelmed and didn't know what to do.

luckily, they were able to find someone named Hyunjin, who they could trust as their manager. he made sure the boys didn't make any reckless decisions. he also was the one who encouraged them to go forward with their first interview.

"a few of your fans who have actually been there from the start have noticed a shift in your sound with your newest track. is there any reason for that?" the interview on your tv asks this group called... sriracha or something. you just turned the tv on so you wouldn't have to eat breakfast in your apartment alone.

"yeah, well... actually, we reached a slump some time before this. so, i suggested we go watch an orchestra performance to change things up. i think after that, we got a lot more inspired," some guy named 'Chan' explains.

"i think Changbin was the msot inspired though," 'Han' chimes in, laughing and slapping the back of who you presume to be 'Changbin'.

he blushes slightly and looks down, and for some reason he looks familiar.

"and why's that, Changbin?" the interviewer asks.

Changbin seems flustered, but he still replies after the rest of 3racha encourage him.

"well... i think i found the muse of my life at that performance. they're part of the orchestra and always sit stage left, first row with a flute in hand--"

"hey, isn't that too specific?" Chan cuts in.

"no, it doesn't matter. i want to thank them. y/n, if you ever watch this.. thank you for inspiring me. i'll thank you in person someday, i promise."

the spoon falls out of your hand and lands on the table, but you don't even blink.

you're.. this man's... first love?

"do you know Changbin? he's totally in love with you!"

"have you spotted him at performances? i definitely have, he looks so familiar"

"do you think he'll be there today, too?"

your fellow musicians just don't shut up about Changbin and it drives you mad. it also makes you anxious about performing even though you never feel that way.

it's been two weeks since the interview and everyone's been on your case about it. of course it just has to get worse on the day of your orchestra's monthly performance.

you ignore everyone as they press you with questions and you leave the break room and performance hall entirely, clutching your flute to your chest.

out in the free air, you let out a sigh of relief, searching with your eyes for a spot to enjoy the fresh air. you notice a man dressed in all black, leaning against the platform railing with a cigarette in hand. his hair is cut neatly to his chin and he adorns black sunglasses as he watches the lazy sun lay herself on the horizon.

you're not one to approach strangers, but for some reason, it feels like.

"mind if i join you?" you ask the man, who immediately removes his sunglasses out of courtesy. he places them in the pocket of his long, black jacket.

"of course not, love. does the cigarette bother you? i can out it out if you'd like," he offers, but you assure him that it's okay.

he smiles and takes another puff, being mindful to blow the air away from you

"quite the instrument you've got there. will you be performing tonight?" he asks.

"yeah... stage left and front row," you say.

"stage left? that sounds famil--oh! are you perhaps y/n?" he asks.

"i am... how did you know?"

"i'm Hyunjin, 3racha's manager. Changbin seems to... be greatly inspired by you."

you drop your head. not Changbin, again.

"i wish i could say i'm honoured, but all i hear is everyone talking about him, him, him. it's like they only know me 'cause of him and i'm fed up," you explain.

Hyunjin nods along, taking another drag.

"i hear you. i told him not to call you out like that, the idiot. but i think he's hopelessly in love. i'm truly sorry on his behalf."

you shake your head. "that's alright, not your fault."

"hope you don't mind that we're here to watch you perform. 3racha and i will leave if you're uncomfortable in any way--"

"no! please. music is for all to enjoy, regardless of any personal factors. stay and enjoy the show," you say.

Hyunjin smiles, his eyes gleaming at you.

"you sound like a true musician."

you later return to the break room feeling refreshed, earbuds in so no one will talk to you. your conversation with Hyunjin definitely cheered you up, and you step onto the stage feeling more relaxed. yet, you still can't stop your eyes from searching for Changbin. once you find him, you feel more nervous than ever.

he's sat forward in his seat, elbows on his knees and chin resting on the palms of his hands. he's probably noticed you staring, since he smiles. even Hyunjin, sitting next to him, gives you a small wave. you wave back out of courtesy, but the person sitting next to you nudges you.

"waving at your man up there?"

you shake your head in disappointment and don't reply.

despite being nervous, you give the audience the show of a lifetime. you show your all, stand up, bow, and head back to the break room.

only to find a huge bouquet of flowers waiting for you.

everyone cheers and you feel uncomfortable, confused. what's going on?

that's until a man reveals himself from behind the bouquet. it's none other than Changbin.

too much to bear, you run off, out of the break room and down a random hallway.

"wait!" Changbin calls out as you storm off. he reaches out for your hand, grasping at nothing but air as you're already too far for him to reach.

you stop in your tracks. might as well hear him out.

"just who are you? for making me feel this way.. i just want to know you... properly," Changbin says.

you look back and look at him. he's wringing his hands together and his eyes are droopy. the collar of his dress shirt is slightly wrinkled, probably from him rubbing his neck because of how stressed out he was just a few moments ago, waiting for you to enter the breakroom.

"i'm.. y/n," you say, your brain faltering.

Changbin sighs.

"i already know your name, y/n. you play first flute and always sit stage left in the first row," he explains.

you roll your eyes. it's that same thing, other and over. the same thing he said in that stupid interview.

"then what do you want to know?" you spit out, "you seem to know everything about me, don't you? and then you feel confident enough to spew it all on live television. thanks for that, but i don't need any pity fame."

Changbin visibly hesitates for a second before taking a step forward and finally reaching for your hand. you resist pushing his hand away, wondering what he's up to. surprisingly, your heart rate picks up and your skin grows hot. why does his hand feel so... comfy?

"y/n, we haven't even had a proper conversation yet, but you've already changed my whole world. i used to rap, now i watch orchestra performances on a daily basis. i used to wear baggy tees but now they're all button-ups. y/n... i just want to get to know you. i know this is so forward and i know i messed up. so i want to say sorry. i'm sorry, y/n. do you think we can start anew?"

you can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

"i've always believed in second chances. if i've really.. changed you this much then i guess it doesn't hurt to see exactly who you are," you say.

your mouth moves faster than your head and you don't even realize how you feel until after you're done talking.

Changbin grins, looking at the floor and biting his lip slightly. the person whom he's fallen for is giving him a chance already despite not knowing much about him? it's like fate.

he's still holding your hand and he tugs on it slightly before he speaks.

"how about we leave this place and go somewhere with a nice night view, somewhere we can talk?" he asks.

"i'd kill to get away from my nosy orchestra members. let's go, Changbin," you say.

that's all he needs to hear before he whisks you away, running through the hall to some random exit.

"why does this feel like some old-timey romance movie where the two leads runaway?" you ask Changbin, who stops running once you're out of the building.

he raises the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it only when you consent.

"because you've turned me into an old-timey romantic, y/n. i just wish i had a nice, classic, black car to drive us away in but... i have to call Hyunjin to.. escort us somewhere."

you laugh, somehow feeling yourself unwinding completely in Changbin's presence, fully relaxed.

"it's a romance movie where we have a runaway driver--even better!" you joke.

Changbin melts at the sight of you throwing your head back as you laugh, the wind rustling your clothes. he's so in love already, and he barely knows a thing about you. but the fact that he's changed so much because of you is enough proof of this love.

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biscuitslino · 2 years

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skz as songs off of harry's house

SEO CHANGBIN

keep driving

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forlix · 4 months

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· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date.

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

han turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath. your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and han look at each other, sigh. han takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice.

“you’re so fucking sexy, holy shit.”

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck.

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence.

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips.

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade.

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

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baby-yongbok · 1 month

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Boyfriend SKZ!Fake Texts - They have a wet dream about you

Genre: Smut, fairly detailed. Like, its dirty

Warnings: mentions of unprotected sex (wear a rubber, yall), breeding (? - if you squint and only for Jeongin's), Jeongin is a tad bit possessive, It gets more dirty the further you get.

✧ Masterlist ✧

Chan

Lee Know/Minho

Changbin

Hyunjin

Han

Felix

Seungmin

I.N

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soobnny · 4 months

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stolen kisses with stray kids — established relationship, extreme fluff, some might be suggestive ? (2.0k words)

moments they steal a kiss & where they do it

chan. during movie night when everyone’s asleep

it’s a little scandalous, they way he reaches for your lips while his friends are asleep during one of your movie nights.

it’s around 2am, and the only reason you’re still awake is because chan’s being extra clingy with the way he squeezes your waist, running his cold hand under your shirt.

how can anyone expect him to fall asleep though? not when you’re so close to him, and he can smell your shampoo, and feel your steady breathing.

“sleepy.” you mumble, grabbing the ends of your shared blanket that jisung had stolen most of hours ago. chan had to excuse himself midway through your third movie to get you a new one.

“hmm.” he hums in response, nuzzling his nose against your hair, hands planting themselves on your bare waist. “is my baby sleepy?”

“mhm.” chan can’t help but grin down at you, disentangling his head from your hair for a moment to look at you—your sleepy smile and drooping eyes. how could he not press his lips on yours when you’re looking at him like that?

it feels like a shot of espresso, and he would’ve gone in for another one had you not fallen asleep, head buried in his neck and arms gripping his shirt.

minho. at the dance practice room while waiting for everyone else to arrive

minho’s arms are immediately locked around your torso the minute you walk into your university’s dance practice room. your boyfriend had rented it out for the evening with his friends to practice their final project, and you’d come with dinner and your support.

“5 minutes.” he whispers with a sinister grin, and you’re about to question what he meant when he goes straight in for your lips. ah, five minutes before his friends get here.

his lips aren’t shy at all. you can feel him growing more desperate as seconds pass, and you don’t know what’s gotten into your boyfriend for him to be kissing you like this, but you don’t exactly have any complaints.

minho kisses up your jaw, pulling your hips closer to his before planting his lips back on yours. and you have to admit, it’s a little attractive to catch a glimpse of the way he’s holding you and the way he’s kissing you from the dance studio’s big fucking mirror.

you don’t even realize how much time had passed. everything felt like a blur with the way your boyfriend was kissing you. but before you know it, there are knocks on the door and minho is breathing heavily against your neck.

he presses one last final kiss on your lips before he’s pulling away from the tight grip he’d placed you in earlier. it’s impressive, the way he immediately switches to a more composed version of himself—unlocking the doors and welcoming his friends inside. the smile on his face is gone, and it makes your face heat up to think that they have no idea what had happened just five minutes before they walked into the studio.

changbin. in the gym room against the lockers

“babe, i have the water bottle you’d left—oh!”

changbin gives you no warning when he kisses you against the lockers of his condominium’s gym. you suppose it’s because he’s the only one there. despite his appearance, your boyfriend is usually shy when it comes to public displays of affection.

it doesn’t help that he has a very visible afterglow after his workout session, sheen of sweat on his arms and forehead, and it really is hard to look away—well, it would’ve been hard if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way he was kissing you. it’s slow, and very very hot because it’s so uncharacteristic of your boyfriend to be kissing you like this where anyone could walk in on you. he lets his lips linger for a little longer than your usual kisses, completely taking away your breath.

when he pulls away, he’s still staring at your lips, and you can see a soft smile playing on his. he sends you another peck on the lips before he’s grabbing at the water bottle in your hand.

“thanks baby.” he downs the water in one chug, arms flexing and playing into the fabric of the top he’s wearing. you’re still against the lockers, where he’d pushed you against earlier, and his free arm is still locking you in place. you feel akin to a schoolgirl, with her crush so close.

the thought of him kissing you again like this has you mentally kicking your feet.

hyunjin. in the art studio’s closet where they keep the supplies

he kisses you in the university’s art studio closet—where they keep the supplies. you’d only meant to help hyunjin clean up, but you find yourself locked between his arms with his lips on yours. maybe it’s something about how your boyfriend is much more romantic when he’s in his artist’s mindset, but he refuses to pull away.

you don’t know he’d spent hours prior trying to paint even just a fraction of how he feels about you on the canvas. you were only able to catch a glimpse of vivid colors, the same that’s staining his hands and clinging to his skin.

hyunjin only pulls away when he accidentally knocks down a stool in the cramped space, pulling away and shyly crinkling his nose. it’s a direct contrast to how rough he’d been, hands roaming every possible inch of your face and neck and waist.

when you step outside, you catch your reflection in the studio’s big studio. the sight makes your cheeks heat up embarrassingly, and hyunjin has to apologize for caking your face with the paint that had been on his hands prior to stealing your lips in that closet.

jisung. at the dorm room while his roommate is away

can someone really blame him? you just looked so kissable with your pouty lips and your furrowed eyebrows. when you’d finally succumbed to studying for the night, jisung wastes no time, catching your lips in his.

he’d give anything to continue pressing his lips into yours for the entirety of his life.

and if not for the rest of his life, then at least for a couple more hours while the sun is still up — and while felix (his roommate) is very much not in their dorm yet.

jisung smiles at you when you pull away—that dumb smile he always gives you when he’s not quite done kissing you yet. he has his hands firmly planted on your hips, and his legs are outstretched so you’re comfortable on his lap.

you have a feeling you’ll leave his dorm with a flushed face and swollen lips. you hope felix isn’t on his way home anytime soon.

felix. while baking seungmin’s birthday cake, everytime jisung exits the kitchen

in his dorm’s mini kitchen while the three of you with jisung bake seungmin’s birthday cake. he only ever does it when his roommate is too distracted with other things like what he should get the younger boy—would a gag gift of a stuffed penis be enough to torment seungmin? you can hear him clearly from the living room, calling out to ask you for advice, but felix stands firm on wanting to kiss you until you can’t breathe.

“felix, stop! jisung might walk in on us.” though you’re telling him to stop, it’s a little hard to convince your boyfriend when you’re giggling and kissing him back.

who could blame felix though? how can he not kiss you when there’s frosting on your lips from decorating the cake? and what better way to clean it than kissing it off?

he has you lifted up on the counter, stood between your legs with his hands on your thighs. you’d shiver once in a while, it can’t be helped when the boy’s running his cold hands up and down your bare skin, hiking your shirt up just a little bit.

and he’s mastered the art of excuses at this point, always having something to say when jisung walks into the kitchen and suspiciously eyes the both of you because why are your lips the same color as the extra frosting.

though, on his hundredth attempt at secretly kissing you, jisung walks right in and immediately screams “my eyes!” as he runs away with his palms covering his eyes.

seungmin. against the bookshelves of the library

“kiss me.” it feels wrong coming out of his lips. your goody two shoes, straight a’s boyfriend, whispering for you to kiss him in the library.

seungmin’s taking advantage of the fact that nobody ever stays at the university’s library past 12am, not when exam seasons are far off. he had dragged you here earlier, something about a project, and with nothing better to do, you’d thought you would accompany him.

you’d expected him to bury his face in his laptop as usual, square glasses on his concentrated face. you didn’t expect to be making out with him against the bookshelves of the library—somewhere by the anatomy section, you don’t even remember anymore.

it’s like he prepared for this too, knowing exactly where you won’t be caught. he has you between his arms, and he ghosts your face terribly close to his.

it really isn’t difficult to admit that seungmin is wildly attractive like this. while you loved your nerdy boyfriend, something about him with his messy hair and his eyeglasses discarded has you breathing erratically.

his lips immediately catch yours when you lean forward to kiss him. it’s a little messy, but you give into it, and into his tongue that’s swiping on your bottom lip. you don’t know what had warranted this, but it definitely isn’t unwelcomed.

you only pull away when you hear the librarian surveying the lines of shelves, noticing that you and seungmin had been gone a little too long. it really isn’t that hard to find a book.

when you come back to your corner table, seungmin doesn’t say anything. his glasses are back on his frame, but it’s hard to miss his smirk and the way he’s running his tongue over his lips once in a while.

jeongin. under the school’s staircase in between class

jeongin loves to steal kisses in between classes. he’d kiss you anywhere, behind your department’s building, inside an empty classroom, anywhere with no prying eyes.

today, it’s under your school’s staircase. he kisses you sweetly, almost romantic. the kind of kiss that tells you he misses you despite it only being a few hours since you last saw each other.

he kisses you over and over in between quiet conversation about how your class went—how was that quiz you had? was it a boring one? he loves listening to you talk, and he loves interrupting you once in a while to place a short peck on your lips. it’s usually when you say your ‘w’s or any letter that puckers your lips up.

similarly, you ask him questions about his class—was his teacher a little less shitty today? did he finish that group project he’d spent many late hours on? what’s on his mind and why is he looking at you like that?

“you.” he says with a smug smile, and it makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. you stare at each other for a while, but jeongin can only go so long without your lips on his so he grabs your chin with his fingers and pulls you gently to place his lips on yours one last time.

the last kisses always last longer, when he knows he’s running out of time, and your next class is looming around the corner. and your boyfriend always knows how to make it count.

“see you on your next break, babe.”

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seungminhour · 5 months

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┌──── -ˏˋ 📱 ˎˊ-

└➤ how bf!skz would react to you not calling them by a nickname / term of endearment

hyung line | maknae line

◞✩ pairing : bf!skz x gn!reader

◞✩ contains : humor, fluff, swearing, just general shenanigans

◞✩ notes : thank you guys sm for 500 followers 🥹 i’m gonna try to finish a bunch of my drafts to celebrate 🫶

01. bang chan.

02. lee minho.

03. seo changbin.

04. hwang hyunjin.

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wooahaes · 6 months

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skz - forgetting to kiss them

pairing: non-idol!skz x gn!reader

prompt: u forget to kiss them hello when u come home

genre: fluff!! just silly fluff

warnings: food mentions :3 + intentional lowercase & no proofreading.

daisy's notes: couldnt b me. id never stop greeting them w kisses. no one look at how long jisung's is i was particularly delulu when i wrote it

bang chan

chris noticed... almost immediately that was off about you. the embarrassing part was that it was partially due to the fact you didn't greet him with your usual "hi, i'm home" kiss.

it wasn't that chris looked forward to that kiss (he did, but that wasn't the point). he liked to think he was just... attuned to you. that he could feel the general vibe you had whenever you entered a room. he wasn't missing your "i'm home" kiss--he was merely noticing that you weren't feeling great. that something was weighing on your mind. so he called out as he heard you go back to the kitchen to get something to drink, asking about your day.

immediately, he heard you let out a long sigh. "work was awful and then i missed my bus so i had to take a cab."

chris nodded. "ah. gotcha."

you made your way over, sitting down next to him. "... did i do something?" you looked over toward the door, trying to retrace your steps. you hadn't slammed the door, and you hadn't been too late coming home...

"nah!" he looked over, "i mean, you kinda didn't give me a kiss when you came home. figured something was wrong."

you stared at him for a moment. did you really always give him a kiss when you came home? you liked to, because it was your own little way of saying "hi, i missed you," to him with just a quick peck. after a moment, you leaned in, pressing a quick peck against the corner of his lips before planting another on his lips proper.

"there," you giggled. "is that better?"

judging by the way chris giggled back, pulling you in for a third... maybe not. (but it wasn't as if you were going to complain.)

lee minho

usually, minho didn't mind whether you kissed him or not. he'd always enjoy your kisses, and found it endearing that you pressed a quick kiss against his lips whenever you came home, but he never asked nor would he ever force you to do it. sometimes he'd kiss you as a greeting, though, just because he liked to see your smile.

other times, when he was feeling a little more devious... he'd call out to you, just like he did tonight. "you forgot something!"

you came back into the room, shirt half-unbuttoned as you'd been in the middle of changing. you furrowed your brow, pouting a little as you tried to figure out what was wrong.

he just smiled at you. "you did."

a moment later, it hit you. you snorted, and made your way over, pulling him in for a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer than the usual one you usually gave him. your hands fell to his shoulders, and you drew back. "there. is that better?"

"i missed you," he giggled. "is that so wrong?"

you rolled your eyes, and gave him another peck on the tip of his nose. "love you, too, you dork," you said, pulling away from him to go change.

(and the sound of your laugh as you continued away despite the way he lunged to grab at you, just barely missing your ass... all minho could do was smile to himself.)

seo changbin

changbin was a reasonable guy. he waited a reasonable amount of time (ten minutes: you said you weren't going to shower or anything yet) before approaching you in the kitchen. "are you mad?"

you looked up from where you were working on dinner. he was so genuine about the question, and it threw you for a loop. had you done something to imply that you were...? all you did was get started on dinner because it was your night to cook. "what?"

"we always talk about these things," he said with a sigh. he crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, eyes bearing into your own, "did i do something? you can tell me if i did. it's okay."

"binnie, honey, i have no idea what you're talking about."

"really?" he frowned, and gave you this look of disbelief. "you always give me a kiss when you come home, and today, you didn't. do i need to run to the store? did i forget something--"

oh! you almost laughed at how adorable he could be sometimes. "nope," you said, reaching forward to pull him in. "just got distracted when i got home." ever so casually, you kissed him, and planted an extra on the corner of his mouth. "good to know you'd miss my kisses, though."

changbin just pulled you in again with a giggle, content to steal a few more from you before he let you go... for now.

hwang hyunjin

hyunjin didn't notice at first. he'd been curled up on the couch with a book when you came home, carrying a few bags of groceries that you insisted on handling yourself since they were for tonight's dinner. it was your night to cook after all, and--after asking to make sure you didn't want help--he settled back into his spot.

and then it hit him eventually: you... didn't kiss him when you came home. why didn't you kiss him? you always went out of your way to do it, after all. he leaned up, looking over to where he could see you deeply concentrating on the recipe you were reading. then again, you had set down the groceries and lounged around for a little bit first--the two of you had even talked during that. maybe you were mad at him? he knew he'd been petty about things before and denied you kisses as a result. maybe he was the one who was supposed buy groceries...? but you didn't give him a list or text him anything...

"honey?" he called out.

immediately, it caught you attention. 'honey' wasn't really his usual term of endearment for some reason: you were always his love, his baby. "what's wrong?"

his face grew warmer--was it really that concerning? "nothing--" he started, but realized that you only grew more concerned. "you didn't kiss me when you came home."

"oh."

he decided to keep going, "did i do something--"

"if you want it," you cut him off, "then come get it."

he just stared at you. "... what?"

"i was thinking about dinner," you said, turning back to what you were cooking. "but if you want that kiss, you'll have to come get it."

hyunjin found himself smiling, pushing aside his blanket and the book to get up and make his way over to you. he kissed you, smiling into it as well, as his hands fell to rest on your waist.

all better.

han jisung

jisung was not afraid to admit that he was deeply in love with you. and sometimes... that meant he'd overthink the little things. his heart was so full of devotion to you that sometimes he'd get too deep in his own head, trying not to do anything to wrong you. of course, he knew you, and he knew that you'd always accommodate him by telling him things outright. if he hurt you, you pointed it out and asked for space so that the two of you talk things out properly when both of you were ready for it. but today you were sitting at the other end of the couch, a pillow hugged against your chest as the two of you watched TV. or, well, you watched TV. jisung was watching you.

"hey." his foot bumped against your leg. "did something happen today?"

you tore your gaze away from the screen, brows drawing together. "no?" yet you continued to watch him for a moment, eyes scanning his face for anything that would give him away. "are you okay?"

he nodded. even that confused 'no?' was enough to soothe his thoughts. you would be honest with him, after all: that was what the two of you did. he settled into the couch. "i'm fine," he said, hoping it sounded casual enough.

yet you tilted your head, as if trying to get a better look at him. "baby?" you set the pillow onto the floor, moving a little closer. "did i forget something?"

he grew flustered immediately. "it's okay--it's not a big deal--"

"ohh," you lit up, smiling as you already knew. he liked the twinkle in your eyes whenever you knew something. "i know what it was." you crawled over to him, teasing him a little, "my jisungie didn't get his kiss today--"

he found himself unable to fight back a smile. "it's not a big deal, honey--"

"nope!" you giggled, and practically launched yourself at him. he'd end up pinned against the couch, "gotta make up for it with extra kisses for worrying my jisungie."

god, he loved you. you peppered kisses all over his face despite his laughter, slightly pushing back against where your hands were at his wrists to try and re-ground himself better against the couch, yet you didn't let go. sure, maybe you were hamming it up and acting extra cute for him... but he knew what this was. it was a message, loud and clear, that you cared about him wholeheartedly. you knew he could get anxious sometimes, especially when it came to potentially accidentally upsetting you. 'i want to make you happy' was what you told him once. he hoped you could feel the way he smiled into the soft kiss you pressed against his lips. when you drew back, you just stayed there, hovering over him and admiring how the glow of happiness looked on him.

"i'm home," you said.

jisung just brushed a stray strand of hair away. yeah... you are his home.

lee felix

as much as felix wanted to whine at you playfully for forgetting to kiss him when you came home (a staple of your relationship, he'd joke)... he couldn't help but worry. he continued to work at dinner, mentally going over your interactions today. he knew you well enough to know that he hadn't done anything to upset you unless you were having an off day where everything annoyed you (no shame in it, he thought; he had those days, too). it wasn't until after he finished making dinner that he called out to you.

"did something happen today?"

you looked up, brows drawn together, but he could see the fatigue on your face from stressing about something. "no?"

he set aside what he was doing, making his way over to where you were sitting, laptop open in front of you. you changed tabs immediately away from whatever you were doing for work right as felix began to knead at your shoulders.

"this is cheating," you whined, head dipping back so you could see his face.

"and i'd do it again," he said, dipping down to plant a quick peck against your forehead. "you can talk if you need to. i don't mind listening."

with a sigh, you shut your eyes while felix continued to massage your shoulders. sure enough, there was someone you had to deal with at work that had annoyed you enough that you were still running through the conversations hours later. he just stood there, listening and nodding along as he continued to work his magic on your tense muscles.

when you finished, he leaned down to press another quick kiss against your lips. "feeling better?"

"a lot, actually," you sat straighter in your chair, reaching forward to close your laptop. "thank you, lixie."

kim seungmin

seungmin had sat on the couch for too damn long, pretending that everything was fine. yes, you didn't kiss him when you came home, but that didn't mean anything. clearly, it didn't mean anything. except maybe you were mad at him, and you were withholding a stupid kiss because of it instead of talking it out like adults. that was what the two of you agreed on: no going to bed mad. to say that you were mad and needed space. not... whatever this is.

"seungmin?" you had sat down at the other end of the couch. "what's eating you?"

his eyes were a little too sharp when he looked at you, frustration all too evident on his face when he was supposed to be hiding it. "that's what i should be asking you."

and then... genuine, unfiltered confusion. your brows drew together as you watched him, smile falling. oh.

fuck. you weren't mad at him.

"never mind," he says quickly, "it's stupid--"

you moved over so that you could reach out and take one of his hands in your own, "seungminnie, it's not stupid if it's bothering you!"

ah. using cuteness to get what you wanted. unfair. "you didn't kiss me when you came home like you always do, so i thought you were mad. so then i got made because we agreed to always talk things out."

immediately, you giggled. "aw, seungmin... you really like my kisses that much?"

when you leaned forward to kiss him, he immediately shrank away, trying to block your mouth from his own. "no! not now! it's not the same now!"

yet your laugh was enough to make him drop the act. your lips pressed against his, and he smiled into the kiss, happy to have your arms around him... even if you'd never let him live this down.

yang jeongin

jeongin considered himself one of the more mature people in his friend group. sure, he could be silly and goof off sometimes, but he'd heard his other friends with partners complain about the tiniest things that turned out to be nothing. so with you, he felt a little comfortable in assuming that your "i'm home" kiss just slipped your mind. you'd texted him your bus was running late, so he'd decided to make you a cup of tea for when you came in. and when you threw yourself onto the couch, saying nothing to him for a while...

well, jeongin had a pretty strong feeling that you needed someone to listen to you instead. he'd sat down next to you, passing you the mug as he leaned in to press a quick peck against your lips. his own little "welcome home" kiss that he'd try to greet you with sometimes, if given the chance.

"do you want to talk about it?"

he watched as you took a long sip of tea, letting out a sigh once you'd set the mug down. "work sucked."

jeongin nodded. "and your bus was late..."

another heavy sigh. you turned your face to look at him, reaching for his hand. he gave it to you without any teasing, and watched as you pressed a kiss against his knuckles.

"are you sure it's fine for me to unload all of this on you?"

"that's what i'm here for," he hummed, sliding in a little closer so that he could draw you closer. "you listen to me, right?"

the hint of a smile ghosted over your lips, and jeongin watched as you settled in, head resting on his shoulder. "right..."

he just pressed another kiss into your hair as you launched into telling him about your day. no need for you to worry about giving him any 'i'm home' kisses: jeongin would supply you with as many 'welcome home' kisses as you needed to make you smile again.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

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daaawnnn · 6 months

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lipstick stains

skz reaction: them asking you to stain them with your lipstick

pairing: bf!skz x gn!reader

warnings: a little bit suggestive, but mostly fluff

©daaawnnn

reblogs are appreciated!

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sona-verse01 · 9 months

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Stray Kids

Possessive MTL

Request: Anon! (Hello, can you make a skz hyung line mtl for possessive over s/o? You don't need to write 'why?' or give explanation. Thanks if you make this one.)

Pairing: Skz x gn reader

Genre: Soft

Category: MTL 🌠

Disclaimer: *Images are downloaded from internet. *For entertainment purpose only. Don't take it seriously. *Based on my imagination ONLY. Similarity to other writer's work will be a complete coincidence. *I don't define Stray Kids members personality and nature through my work.

*Don't copy/steal/translate my work.

Most

Lee Know

Hyunjin

Bang Chan

Seungmin

Han Jisung

Changbin

Jeongin

Felix

Least

Send an ask or DM to be added in the taglist.

Taglist: @automatictalebeliever , @nightstargazer , @sona2202

I hope you like it.

Like & reblog if you like this mtl.

Follow for more.

Requests are open.

Check out my masterlist as well.

#sona-verse01 #skz scenarios #skz mtl #skz reactions #skz imagines #stray kids reactions #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz bang chan imagines #skz lee know imagines #skz changbin imagines #skz felix imagines #skz han jisung imagines #skz hyunjin imagines #skz seungmin imagines #skz jeongin imagines

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bangchanbabygurl · 11 months

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Silent Cry (B.C)

Genre: Romance/Mature/K-pop idol x fangirl

Member: Bang Chan

Warnings: Explicit language, mature themes, mentions of depression, suicide, self-harm, mentions of abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, toxicity, sex scenes, and mention of SA.

Request: No

Being a hopeless romantic meant spending restless days and nights reading romance novels, listening to Taylor Swift, and fangirling over fictional men and K-pop. And hope that one day I could experience romance and find the one who will love me the way Mr. Darcy loves Ms. Bennett.

But I grew afraid that no man would ever cross my path, and I became worried that if a man did cross my path, they only wanted to make a fool out of me.

#straykids #straykidsimagines #wattpad #stray kids #stray kids imagines #straykids hyunjin #straykids angst #bang chan imagines #skz lee know #skz changbin imagines #skz chan #bang chan #christopher bang #chris bang #straykidschan #skz icons #skz scenarios #skz #skz imagines

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hyunverse · 6 months

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# SKZ TEXTS — you forgot to like his instagram post.

boyfriend!skz (individual) x reader.

fluff, text fics. a dirty joke in changbin's.

CHAN, LEE KNOW.

CHANGBIN, HYUNJIN.

HAN, FELIX.

SEUNGMIN, I.N.

#skz texts #stray kids texts #skz text fics #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #hyunjin imagines #lee know imagines #changbin imagines #felix imagines #han jisung imagines #seungmin imagines #jeongin imagines #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader

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forlix · 7 months

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· . ˚ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

— the moments in which the members of stray kids realize how they truly feel about you.

words・1.4k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / warnings・depictions of conflict and anxiety in hyunjin's and han's / genres・domestic fluff, smidges of hurt/comfort, established relationships

a/n・thought i'd try out a new fic format :-) i had so much fun writing these and hope you like reading them just as much. any and all feedback is appreciated, as always!

chan is in a heated staring contest with his notepad when the door opens, and he knows that it’s you who comes in, but his head is miles away, tangled in an amalgamation of syllables and rhythms. he goes on to forget that you’re here for a short while, poring over the unfinished lyrics in front of him with undivided focus. that is, until he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder.

you’ve just pulled a chair up next to his desk. “lemme see,” you say, gesturing to the notepad. there’s a surprised pause, and then chan places it in your hand, scoots closer to you.

you spend the next two hours talking him through his block, but there are periods when you fall silent to brainstorm or to write something down, and chan takes those quiet opportunities just to look at you: wearing one of his old t-shirts, your hair still damp from your shower, completely concentrated. and he knows, then, that he wants to marry you.

minho doesn’t realize he loves you in a singular moment. rather, he has a faint inkling for some time, and then the rug is randomly pulled from beneath his feet, and all of a sudden he can’t remember a version of his world that didn't have you at its center.

there are times when he’s especially aware of his feelings, though. like when he throws a witty remark in your direction and your retort comes back twice as sharp. when your eyes and smile light up like lanterns as you talk to him about your passions. when one (or all) of his cats hover at your side as you go about your day. when he returns home after a grueling practice and you’re there to offer him your comfort, no matter his withdrawn demeanor or sweaty skin.

he is a quiet lover, and sometimes he worries that he’s too quiet, that you have no idea what’s going on inside him every time he looks at you. but words have never really been necessary with minho. you know. you just do.

changbin is greeted by a chilly breeze when he emerges from the gym, and he silently chastizes himself for forgetting to bring an outer layer yet again. but the temperature moves to the back of his mind when he spots you, waiting on the sidewalk, as you said you would. a familiar grin breaks across your face when you see him, and he feels its shape against his lips when he runs over and kisses you, in lieu of hello.

“what are you feeling for dinner?” you ask once he’s pulled away, and he realizes that you’ve pressed something to his chest: one of the hoodies that he keeps at your place, still soft and warm from just coming out of the dryer. and boom—the epiphany hits him, instantly and unequivocally.

he is dumbfounded for a moment, just processing the newfound discovery; and then, out of nowhere, the two of you say the name of the same restaurant at the same time. he swears he never believed in soulmates until he met you.

hyunjin has always held so many emotions in his heart so fervently, to the point that they sometimes overflow in the form of words that he doesn’t believe, in a tone that he doesn’t intend. and it happened again today, when he spoke to you the wrong way in a moment of pure impulse, and the surprise on your face morphed into poorly-disguised hurt.

a few hours later, the weight of his actions sits heavily on his shoulders. when he lifts his phone to call you, his hands are shaking a little, and a breathy apology spills from his lips the moment he hears you on the other end: “i’m sorry, angel. i’m trying, i promise. i really am.” to which you answer, “i know, hyune. i forgive you. we’ll keep trying together, okay?” and your words pull his heartstrings in a new direction entirely.

he asks if he can come over, you say yes, and he tells you he loves you as soon as you open the door. he’s done hiding his heart from you.

jisung’s contagious grin and raucous cackle come easily to him for the most part, but there are times when he forgets how it feels to laugh or to breathe, times when he wants only to hide from the world and all of its scariest parts. and when you see his figure in the doorway tonight, his face cast in a nameless shadow, his shoulders sunken in quiet defeat, you understand immediately that this is one of those times.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you ask as he approaches you. silently, he shakes his head: not tonight. but his body language asks for what he cannot verbalize. you extend your arms toward him, and he buries himself in them the second he’s close enough to, his face nestling the crook of your neck, the tension in his limbs melting at your gentle touch. you stay there for a long time, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades, coaxing him back to the ground, back to you.

wherever he chooses to hide, he thinks he’d like to take you with him.

when felix opens his eyes, the space in the bed next to him is empty, and the faint scent of flour and sugar wafts through the gap beneath his door.

he gets to his feet, throws on some clothes, and wanders in the direction of the smell, rubbing the sleep from his eyes—and the sight that awaits him makes him wonder if he’s still dreaming. you’re standing at the stove, still in your pajamas, hair slightly disheveled from your rest, and there are pancakes in the frying pan before you; sliced strawberries on the cutting board next to the stove. and the look of sheer focus on your face, as if staring at the pancakes will cook them faster, absolutely destroys him. (and he knows in that moment that he wants to wake up to you for the rest of his life.)

with an enamored smile, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls your back to his chest, and presses a light kiss to the nape of your neck. “morning, beautiful,” he mumbles sweetly. “how fucking lucky am i?”

being around you makes seungmin feel like a kid with a crush. he smiles brighter and laughs louder. he opens like a lotus in bloom when you say his name. the floaty sensation he gets when you kiss his cheek or hold his hand persists for hours afterward—and none of it makes any fucking sense to him. it’s not that he doesn’t believe in love, but he’s never believed that love could feel like this, straight out of a sonnet.

now, your head is on his shoulder, your body rising and falling in your slumber. seungmin looks at your interlocked hands where they rest on his knee, and at the current track displayed on his lockscreen: “still” by day6, a song about losing and loving, about regret and reminiscence. those bright days between us are over, the lyrics go, and he makes a silent promise to your sleeping form that the bright days between the two of you will never end.

the word "love" still doesn't cross his mind, but it is etched all over his face, and carved into his soul.

you and jeongin are telling each other about your days over dinner when your phone lights up with an incoming call, and he nearly spits out his mouthful when he sees who it’s from. for a few seconds, the two of you just stare at each other in flabbergasted silence. but then, you raise your phone to your ear: “hi, grandma! to what do i owe this pleasure?”

and the voice of his grandmother comes back through the receiver. she tells you that she’s just gone on an evening walk and found herself thinking of you, so she wanted to see how you’re doing; if you’re taking care of yourself. you rush to thank her, looking entirely flustered, and a bit like you’re about to burst into tears.

with that, the two of you launch into chatter about everything under the sun: grocery store discounts, the recent humidity, jeongin’s bad habits, you name it. and it finally dawns on jeongin how inextricably embedded in his life you have become—and that he doesn’t want it any other way.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

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