Hiii It’s Been Forever Since We’ve Spoken!! How Have You Been? Life Treating You Good?

( 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 ): Release Date: Posted!

💻 LOOK UP TO YOU ( enhypen )

❛ In which you’re the idol and they’re your fanboys.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 12.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was anonymously requested! Reblogs for this teaser are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N is an idol, the members of Enhypen are not idols but they are your adorably dorky fanboys.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

Want to be alerted when I post this? Let me know in the comments so I can tag you!

─── ⋆⋅☆ STEADY LOVE ( xdinary heroes )

❛ A collection of heartfelt stories where love finds its strength in gentle understanding, as partners navigate the world together with unwavering support and care for each other's unique needs.

𝐱𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 29 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so self-indulgent to write, so a very big thank you to my lovely 🍀 Anon for this request! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has AuDHD in each member's piece, mentions of bees as a special interest, descriptions of being burned out and struggling with change, some very slight ableism mentioned (not from any of the members), descriptions of overstimulation, mentions of stimming, terrible flirting, overall this is very much hurt + comfort, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

구건일 ── GOO GUNIL.

The day felt like it had conspired against Gunil, stretching itself out into an agonizing eternity, as if determined to sap every last bit of energy from him. Each second dragged on, the clock's hands moving at a snail's pace, mirroring the heaviness in his limbs. Finally, after what seemed like an endless rehearsal, an exhausted sigh escaped his lips, the sound barely noticeable amidst the hum of tired voices from his bandmates. With a practiced, almost mechanical motion, Gunil returned his well-worn drumsticks to their designated holder, a small nook on the wall that had become as familiar to him as his own reflection. The drumsticks settled into place with a soft click, the only sound in the practice room that had served as their second home. 

As his bandmates began to shuffle out, their movements sluggish, weighed down by the day’s efforts, Gunil barely registered the chorus of goodbyes. Jungsu’s voice cut through the haze, a final “see you tomorrow” accompanied by a wave before disappearing into the hallway. Gunil mustered a lazy half-smile, lifting his hand in a farewell that felt more like a reflex than a conscious action. The room, once alive with the pulse of their music, now felt eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the fatigue settling deep into his bones. He reached for his backpack, its weight pulling down on his tired shoulders, just as the sharp ring of his phone shattered the stillness.

The sudden sound jolted him, but when he saw your name on the screen, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, chasing away the exhaustion, even if just a little. “I’m done rehearsing, love, I’ll be—” Gunil’s greeting was cut short by the unmistakable sound of your excited squeal. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart swelling with affection at the image of you practically vibrating with energy on the other end of the line.

“Goo, you have to come home as soon as you can!” Your voice was bright, almost bursting with excitement, and Gunil could easily imagine you doing your little wiggles of joy, the ones that always made his heart melt. 

“Yes, baby,” he replied, his tone gentle, hiding the weariness in his bones so as not to dampen your spirits. “I’ll be home in no time. What’s got you so excited?” 

As he turned off the lights in the now-quiet practice room, the faint clicking of your keyboard reached his ears. He pictured you perched at your desk, your laptop open before you, eyes wide with curiosity. The image made him smile. 

“I found this new video, and Goo, it is so cool! It's a swarm of Japanese honeybees defending their nest by slapping ants with their wings, but this one is honestly so fascinating because apparently, this colony got infected by the Varroa Destructor Mite — but they were still so aggressive against the ants and they won! Isn't that so cool? Oh, Goo, please hurry, you have to watch it!” 

Your words tumbled out in a rush, barely pausing for breath, your excitement making the details spill over each other in a joyous cascade. Gunil found himself chuckling softly, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to your passionate rambling. There was something so endearing about the way you got lost in your own world, especially when it came to bees. He could listen to you talk for hours, your voice animated and full of life, a stark contrast to the weariness that had settled over him.

He thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you had nervously explained your autism to him, worried that it might be too much, too different. But to Gunil, it was simply another beautiful facet of who you were, something that made him love you even more deeply. “That does sound very interesting, my love,” he said, trying to match your energy despite the exhaustion tugging at him. “I really can’t wait to watch it!”

The promise of coming home to you, to your bright, infectious enthusiasm, gave him the strength to push through the final stretch of his journey. “I’ll be home in about ten minutes, so hang tight,” he added, a smile in his voice as he ended the call. As he neared the apartment you shared, the sight of a family-owned flower shop caught his eye. 

Even through the fatigue, his gaze lingered on the blooms in the window, your favorite flowers standing out like a beacon. The thought of surprising you with them, especially when you were already so happy, sent a thrill through him. Without hesitation, he ducked into the shop, the sweet scent of fresh flowers wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. He selected a bouquet with care, imagining the way your eyes would light up when he walked through the door with them in hand.

The weight of the day began to lift as he paid for the flowers, the simple act of thinking about you bringing a renewed sense of energy. The thrill of coming home to you, your voice still echoing in his mind, made each step lighter. As he walked out of the shop, the bouquet cradled carefully in his arms, he felt the anticipation build, knowing that soon, he would be by your side, sharing in the simple, beautiful joy of being together.

김정수 ── KIM JUNGSU.

The corners of Jungsu’s lips tightened into a worried frown as he gently rapped on the door of your shared bedroom. Not waiting for an invitation, he nudged the door open just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him was one of persistent discomfort. There you were, lying on your side of the bed, your expression etched with visible distress. Your laptop, casting a soft glow in the dim room, played the familiar episodes of your favorite show—one you had practically memorized through countless viewings meant to soothe your troubled emotions.

Jungsu let out a soft sigh, his concern growing with each passing moment. He stepped into the room, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps as he moved towards your side of the bed. Perching himself on the edge, he settled into the space beside you, his presence both reassuring and tender. You kept your gaze fixed on the screen, as though it were the only refuge from the turmoil roiling within.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and unshared burdens. After a few moments, you finally turned your head to meet his gaze, a weary sigh escaping your lips. Jungsu’s heart ached at the sight of your frustration and weariness. “I ordered takeout,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to shatter the fragile calm. “It’s your favorite.”

He noticed the fleeting flicker of interest in your eyes, a brief spark that was quickly extinguished as you turned back to the screen with a frown. “I don’t want to eat right now,” you murmured, your tone resolute and final, leaving no room for negotiation. The firmness of your refusal stung, and Jungsu could only nod in resignation. He sighed once more, his shoulders slumping slightly as he retreated from the room, leaving you to your solitude.

For nearly a week now, this had been your reality—an ongoing struggle that Jungsu could only partially grasp. Despite the year you had been together, he had never seen you like this before. He understood that adapting to sudden changes was particularly challenging for you, especially when they disrupted the routines that provided a semblance of stability. The day you had called him from work, sobbing uncontrollably while locked in the bathroom, was seared into his memory. You had told him about your old manager’s abrupt departure and the arrival of a new, unfamiliar face. The sudden shift was more than you could handle, especially when your new manager refused to accommodate the adjustments necessary to make your work environment bearable.

As the days went on, the pressure became insurmountable. Each day, you returned home to face the aftermath of panic attacks you had kept at bay and to collapse into bed, seeking solace in the comfort of a show that could no longer ease the heaviness you carried. The joy and relief it once brought you were now overshadowed by a pervasive numbness, a stark reminder of the emotional toll that had become all too familiar.

Jungsu’s heart ached with the weight of your struggle, and though he sympathized deeply with your plight, it did little to quell his worry. He remained steadfast in his resolve to support you through this storm, even as he grappled with the helplessness of seeing you so diminished. Each day, he hoped for a glimmer of recovery, a sign that the storm within you might begin to abate. But for now, he could only offer his silent presence and unwavering support, waiting for the day when you would once again find your way back to the light.

Jungsu was grappling with uncertainty about how to pull you from the depths of your distress, but a sudden spark of inspiration ignited within him as his gaze fell upon the television in the living room. Resolute to offer you a sliver of comfort, he began a frenzied quest to transform your shared space into a sanctuary of solace. For the next half hour, he darted around the apartment, arms laden with an assortment of blankets, comforters, and pillows—each one a small testament to his unwavering determination.

With every trip in and out of the bedroom, his expression was a mixture of earnest concentration and quiet determination. You watched with a blend of curiosity and amusement as he repeatedly entered the room, his movements a flurry of purposeful activity. At one point, he even attempted to gather your collection of stuffed animals, struggling under the weight of their collective softness as he staggered out, his focus unbroken by your gaze.

The sounds of his labor—the shuffling of furniture, the occasional grunt of exertion—filled the space, drawing your attention away from the show you had paused. You listened intently, your curiosity piqued by the rhythmic clamor of activity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of bustling, Jungsu reappeared in the doorway of your bedroom, his face illuminated with a blend of triumph and excitement. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the soft light of the nightstand lamp as he panted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Baby,” he called out, his voice breathless but laced with an infectious enthusiasm. His hands rested on his hips, a gesture of pride and anticipation. “Can you please come out? I made something for you, and I think you’re really going to like it!”

Despite the storm of emotions swirling within you, the sight of Jungsu’s eager, childlike gleam in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Intrigued and touched by his effort, you pushed yourself up from the bed, the pull of his unwavering support more compelling than the urge to remain cocooned in your sanctuary. He extended a hand towards you, which you accepted with a grateful smile, allowing him to guide you toward the living room.

The transformation that greeted your eyes as you entered the living room took your breath away. The coffee table, once a fixture in the center of the room, had been pushed to the far wall. In its place stood a grand fortress, a whimsical creation of mismatched blankets and comforters meticulously draped and layered into a cozy haven. Strings of Christmas lights peeked through the folds, their gentle glow casting a warm, ethereal light that danced across the room. The television, positioned just in front of the fortress’s entrance, was primed to play your favorite show, a comforting familiarity in its soft glow.

As you inhaled deeply, the fragrant aroma of your favorite meal wafted towards you, a final touch to the heartwarming scene. Overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude, tears threatened to spill as you turned to embrace Jungsu. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, your body shaking slightly with the emotion you struggled to contain.

Jungsu chuckled softly, his arms enveloping you in a hug that was both firm and reassuring—just the way you liked it. “Is this okay?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled back to look at him. The tears in your eyes glistened with a profound appreciation as you nodded vigorously, your voice wavering with emotion. “This is perfect, Jun,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly. “It looks exactly like how my grandmother used to do it when I was upset as a child.”

Jungsu’s smile widened, his satisfaction evident in the warmth that radiated from him. As you turned and practically bounded towards the fortress, a trail of contented giggles followed in your wake, each sound a balm to his worried heart. The sight of your joy, so vividly reflected in your laughter, made his heart flutter with a tender affection that seemed to encompass the entire room.

곽지석 ── KWAK JISEOK.

The outdoor market was a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds, alive with the energy of families and couples weaving through stalls brimming with fresh produce and handcrafted jewelry. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, flowers, and street food, a cacophony of sensory delights that usually set your heart racing with excitement. But today, the thrumming pulse of the market felt more like a storm brewing on the horizon. 

You had been standing in front of a stall, fingers lightly tracing the delicate patterns of handmade trinkets when a sudden influx of noisy tourists swarmed around you. The once-open space now felt suffocating as their loud voices clashed against one another, creating a wall of sound that made it impossible to think clearly. The proximity of strangers pressed too close, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your heart into a frantic rhythm. You glanced around, searching desperately for Jiseok, who had been right beside you only moments ago, but the crowd swallowed him up, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable.

As your anxiety began to claw its way to the surface, your body responded in familiar, desperate ways. Your fingers found their way to your hair, twisting and pulling at the strands as if they might tether you to something solid. Your leg bounced uncontrollably, tapping out an erratic rhythm on the cobblestones beneath you. The sharp sting of your nails digging into your palms became the only thing anchoring you, yet it also edged you closer to a breaking point that felt terrifyingly near.

It felt like an eternity, but finally, Jiseok emerged from the crowd, his eyes immediately locking onto you with a mix of relief and concern. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could see it in the way your body had tensed, in the rapid, shallow breaths you struggled to control. Without a word, he reached out, gently but firmly taking your hands in his, halting the destructive cycle of pulling at your hair and digging into your skin. He interlaced your fingers with his, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, let's get out of here for a bit," Jiseok's voice broke through the chaos, a soothing melody that cut through the overwhelming noise around you. He didn’t wait for a response; instead, he drew you close, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear was a familiar comfort, a lifeline in the middle of the storm.

Guiding you through the press of bodies, Jiseok kept you close, his arms a protective barrier against the world that had become too much to bear. His grip tightened slightly, applying the firm pressure that always seemed to calm your racing thoughts. "Look, we can go there for a little bit," he murmured, nodding towards a small park that sat like a hidden gem amidst the market’s frenzy. The greenery promised a respite, a quiet place to breathe again.

But it wasn’t the park that brought you solace—it was Jiseok himself. The vibration of his voice against your back as he spoke, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his embrace all worked together to gently pull you out of the whirlpool of anxiety that threatened to drag you under. As he continued to speak, his words becoming a soft, mindless ramble meant only to distract, you could feel the storm inside you begin to subside. Your heartbeat, once wild and erratic, slowly began to sync with his, finding a steadier, calmer pace.

As Jiseok gently guided you through the bustling market, his hand remained a steady presence on your shoulder. Every so often, he would give a gentle squeeze, three soft pulses of reassurance—a silent code you both had established for moments like these, where words seemed to dissolve into the fog of your anxiety. It was his quiet way of asking, "Are you okay?" The simple gesture, familiar and comforting, anchored you amidst the swirling chaos. 

In response, you reached up to grasp his forearm, fingers curling around his warmth as you squeezed twice, signaling back, "I'm better." The exchange was small, but it spoke volumes—a tender conversation held in silence, where no words were necessary, just the understanding between two souls who had learned to navigate these storms together.

The noise of the market gradually faded into the background as Jiseok led you to the park. Here, the world softened, with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant murmur of others who had also sought sanctuary from the market's overwhelming energy. The park felt like a refuge, a place where the intensity of the outside world couldn't quite reach you. Jiseok spotted a secluded bench beneath the shade of a large, ancient tree, its branches stretching out like a protective canopy. The dappled sunlight danced through the leaves, casting a soothing pattern on the ground, and the bench offered a quiet place to rest, away from prying eyes and the relentless pace of the market.

Once seated, Jiseok remained close, his presence a calming force beside you. Your breath, which had been shallow and quick, began to slow as you settled into the quiet of the park. Jiseok's fingers found their way to your hair, gently playing with the strands in a tender contrast to the earlier harsh tugging you had subjected them to. The soft rhythm of his touch was a balm, easing the lingering tension in your body. His other hand rested on your thigh, grounding you with its comforting weight.

He spoke in a low, soothing tone, his words a gentle caress to your frayed nerves. "We can leave whenever you're ready," he suggested, his gaze drifting out to the serene view of the park, "Maybe we can grab some food and cuddle at the dorm. I'm sure the members won’t mind. I’ll kick Seungmin out of our room if I have to; he’ll just have to suck it up."

As the tension within you began to melt away, you found yourself repeating the last few words of his sentence—a familiar and comforting habit, a happy stim that signaled your return to a place of calm. "...have to suck it up," you echoed, your voice lighter now, carrying the trace of a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Jiseok chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket of comfort. He squeezed your hand gently, checking to ensure your nails were no longer digging into your palm. "That's my favorite sound," he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he grinned at you, his love evident in the gentle curve of his smile.

This shared moment of lightness, of humor, further dispelled the remnants of your anxiety. In his presence, you were reminded that you didn’t have to face these moments alone—that even in your most vulnerable states, Jiseok was there, offering his unwavering support and love. The park, with its serene beauty and the quiet strength of your bond, became a haven where you could breathe again, surrounded by the safety of his embrace.

오승민 ── OH SEUNGMIN.

JYP Entertainment hosted an exclusive and lavish party at a luxury hotel, where the atmosphere blended the grandeur of celebration with the intimacy of a private gathering. Unlike the typical public events, this one was strictly by invitation, creating a sanctuary for idols to bring their partners, friends, and families without the constant pressure of cameras. The setting was resplendent, with elegant decor that reflected the significance of the occasion.

The entertainment options catered to a variety of tastes. In one corner, a live band played soft jazz, filling the room with soothing melodies. Nearby, a DJ spun upbeat tracks, enticing those who wanted to dance. For the more playful guests, a karaoke setup allowed for uninhibited fun, and a photobooth adorned with glittering lights stood ready to capture the night’s memories. A gourmet buffet stretched along one side of the room, offering an array of international cuisines, the rich aromas mingling with the laughter and chatter that filled the air.

Despite the festive atmosphere, the constant flashing of lights and the relentless pulse of the music began to overwhelm you. This was your first time attending an event of this magnitude, and though you had agreed to come because of the way Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of sharing this moment with you, the environment soon proved too much. Even as you admired him, his figure so striking in the finely tailored suit that accentuated his lean, muscular build, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the grand room was closing in on you. Your hands trembled despite your best efforts to maintain composure, and a cold sweat began to form along your hairline.

You stole a glance at Seungmin, who stood a short distance away, his face illuminated with genuine joy as he engaged in animated conversation with his bandmates and senior idols from the company. They were discussing the future direction of their music, reminiscing about their journey since debuting, and Seungmin’s laughter rang out, a clear sign that he was fully immersed in the moment. For a brief second, you hoped that his distraction would allow you to slip away unnoticed, just for a moment, to calm the rising tide of anxiety within you.

The party, though well-intentioned, was far beyond your comfort zone, and the sensory overload was beginning to take its toll. You needed to escape, to find a quiet space where you could breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on you. But as you discreetly made your way to the bathroom, seeking refuge from the overwhelming stimuli, Seungmin caught sight of your retreating figure. 

Unbeknownst to you, Seungmin had anticipated the possibility of you feeling overwhelmed in such a busy atmosphere. Understanding how easily you could be overstimulated, he had made sure to pack your well-loved noise-canceling headphones in the expensive messenger bag his stylist had provided. As soon as he saw you slipping away, his concern for you took precedence over the conversation, and he politely excused himself, following you to the bathroom.

Upon entering the lavish bathroom, Seungmin offered a polite bow and murmured apologies to the few occupants before your shallow breathing caught his attention. He quickly moved to stand outside the stall where you had taken refuge. 

"Love? It's me," he called softly, his voice gentle and soothing, careful not to startle you in your vulnerable state. Inside the stall, your hands clenched in a futile attempt to stop their violent trembling as you struggled to steady your breathing. 

Seungmin reached over the door, his hand holding the familiar headphones — a lifeline in the storm of your frenzied thoughts. "I thought you might need this," he murmured. 

You reached up and snatched the headphones, the urgency in your movements reflecting the desperation you felt. As you placed them over your ears, the chaotic world outside was mercifully muted. The overwhelming cacophony faded, replaced by the comforting silence you had so desperately needed. Finally, you could breathe again, the noise-canceling barrier providing a sanctuary where you could begin to reclaim your peace.

You were immensely grateful for Seungmin’s patience, relishing the brief respite as you took a few moments to catch your breath. The bustling noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, creating a cocoon of calm around you. Just as you began to steady yourself, your phone vibrated in your hand — a text from Seungmin, despite him standing right outside the bathroom stall. His name illuminated the screen, and a calming wave of relief washed over you, your erratic heartbeat finding a more measured rhythm.

Seungmin understood that in moments like these, communication through text would be the most comforting method. The message on your screen read, Feeling any better? 

Your fingers, still slightly trembling, moved to reply. A lot better, thanks to you. Everything just became a little too much for me. 

The reply came almost instantaneously, and you noticed how the tight, claustrophobic feeling had dissipated. I’m glad I thought of bringing the headphones. Why didn’t you tell me though? The words on the screen seemed to convey a trace of concern, as though you could almost see the frown forming on his lips as he awaited your response.

A pang of guilt pierced your heart. You knew Seungmin would have dropped everything to help you if only you had spoken up. But you didn’t want him to worry or to spoil such a significant night. I didn’t want to ruin such a big night. I thought I would be able to handle it...until I couldn’t anymore. You sent the message with a sigh, already anticipating the comforting words that would follow. 

Baby, these parties mean nothing compared to your well-being. You didn’t ruin anything, I promise. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you read his soothing words. 

Moments later, another text from him appeared. Do you want to stay here for a bit, or would you like me to take you somewhere quieter? 

Relief flooded over you as you replied, Can we stay here for now? I don’t want to go back out yet. 

Of course. Do you want to let me in? The offer was genuine and well-intentioned, but it made you feel uneasy. 

You texted back, No. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can handle being touched or having anyone at close proximity right now...sorry. 

Hey, I get it. I’ll just stay here until you’re ready to come out.

Seungmin settled in by the door of your stall, his presence a reassuring anchor in your storm of anxiety. Leaning against the door, he continued to text you intermittently, checking in without overwhelming you. Despite the guilt that gnawed at you for keeping him away from the main event, you found solace in the sight of his polished shoes peeking out from beneath the stall door. His calm and patient demeanor provided a sense of security, a reminder that he was there for you while respecting your need for space.

To lift your spirits, Seungmin sent small jokes and snippets of gossip from the party, aiming to lighten the mood without pushing you too far. His thoughtful gestures made the wait more bearable. When you finally felt ready to emerge, you texted him, signaling that you were prepared to leave the bathroom. Seungmin maintained a respectful distance as he guided you out, his focus on ensuring your comfort. He stood by your side, a steady presence as you stood by the bathroom sinks, allowing you to regain your composure.

As you began to feel more at ease, your heart soared when Seungmin gently pulled you closer, swaying with you to the rhythm of a slow song that was apparently playing at the main party. The music and his embrace melded together in a soothing harmony, offering a sense of peace and connection that made the night’s earlier chaos feel like a distant memory.

한형준 ── HAN HYEONGJUN.

You and Hyeongjun had been together long enough to know that your bond was more than just a fleeting connection—it was a deeply rooted love, a steadfast commitment that had withstood the test of time. The idea of moving in together had always felt like the natural progression of your relationship, a step that would solidify the foundation you had built together. The thought of creating a home, a sanctuary where your love could continue to blossom, was a dream you both held close to your hearts. 

After months of searching, of walking through countless doorways in hopes of finding the one that felt right, you finally discovered a small, charming apartment nestled in a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect in its simplicity, a place that felt like it could become your own little haven away from the world. The moment you stepped inside, hand in hand with Hyeongjun, you could almost see the future unfolding before your eyes—a future filled with love, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.

However, as thrilling as this new chapter was, the journey to get there was anything but easy. The excitement that buzzed in your chest was often tempered by the looming dread of packing up your lives and making the transition into this new space. Despite the weeks you had spent mentally preparing, gathering boxes, and organizing your belongings, the reality of the task ahead felt overwhelming once the packing began in earnest. The room that had once been your sanctuary, a place of comfort and familiarity, now looked as though it had been ravaged by a chaotic whirlwind. The bed, once a cozy nest of warmth, was buried beneath a patchwork of clothes—some folded neatly, others discarded haphazardly in the frenzy of sorting. Your once-tidy shelves had succumbed to disorder, with books that had been carefully arranged now lying in disarray, their pages splayed open as if they, too, were crying out for the order that had been lost.

Boxes were strewn across the floor, some half-packed, others overflowing with belongings that seemed to resist categorization. Trinkets and mementos from your relationship and childhood, tokens of memories that had shaped you, were scattered across every available surface. The room had become a chaotic testament to your inability to start a task and see it through to completion, the once-organized process now devolved into a mess that mirrored the storm of emotions brewing within you.

As you stood in the center of the chaos, trying to take it all in, the room seemed to close in on you. The sheer magnitude of the task at hand made your head spin, and the weight of the change—of leaving behind the familiar to step into the unknown—pressed down on you like a heavy blanket, smothering you with a growing sense of panic. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your chest tightening as the reality of what lay ahead threatened to overwhelm you entirely. You felt frozen, trapped between the urge to curl up on the floor and the fear of succumbing to the full-blown panic attack that you could feel building inside you.

In that moment, the dream of a shared home, of a future filled with love and laughter, felt impossibly distant, overshadowed by the immediate reality of the overwhelming chaos that surrounded you.

Hyeongjun had been meticulously packing utensils in the kitchen, each clang and clatter a small, careful note in the symphony of your impending move. The rhythm was comforting in its predictability, a soundscape of progress amidst the chaos. But it was the sudden, uneven hitch in your breathing that cut through his focus like a knife. The familiar, faint tremor in your breath sent his instincts into overdrive. He abandoned the half-filled box without a second thought, his concern drawing him swiftly to the doorway where he paused, eyes immediately searching for you. The room’s disarray only served to heighten his worry, but it was the look on your face—pale, strained, eyes wide with the first signs of panic—that sent him rushing to your side.

His presence was immediate, solid, a tether in the storm of your thoughts. His hands hovered just above your trembling frame, a question in the tension of his fingers, as if even the act of touching needed your permission in this fragile moment. His voice, calm and steady despite the urgency he felt, broke the silence, "Touch or no touch?" It was the question he always asked, a gentle reminder that he was there, ready to offer exactly what you needed.

Your throat tightened, the pressure of unspoken fears constricting your ability to breathe freely. It took a moment, but you managed to force the words past the lump of anxiety, your voice barely above a whisper yet laced with raw desperation. "Touch, please. Hard." The plea was met with immediate action. Hyeongjun closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you with a firm, reassuring pressure that felt like a lifeline. He pulled you close, your face pressed into the warm, solid comfort of his chest, as if he could shield you from the overwhelming chaos that threatened to consume you.

His embrace was everything you needed—strong, grounding, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. His hands moved over your back, each squeeze purposeful, designed to remind you that you weren’t alone in this moment. The weight of his arms anchored you, offering a physical connection that countered the spinning in your mind. As you struggled to sync your breathing with his, he guided you gently, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, coaxing your frantic gasps to slow. The familiar scent of him—warm, comforting, like home—began to permeate your senses, grounding you further with each breath.

Hyeongjun understood you in a way no one else did. He knew how deeply change unsettled you, how even the most exciting transitions could unearth old anxieties that clung like shadows. This move, this beautiful step into a shared future, was something you had both yearned for, yet the enormity of it was daunting, and he recognized that. 

Still holding you close, he gently guided you to the edge of the bed, never loosening his protective grip. His voice, soft and steady, filled the space between your breaths. He began to speak, his words a soothing balm, painting a picture of the memories he hoped to create with you in your new home. 

He spoke softly of lazy Saturday mornings, where the two of you would linger in bed, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the world outside moved on without you. He painted a picture of sunlight streaming through the windows, casting golden hues across the room as the smell of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of your shared space. He imagined those moments when you would shuffle into the kitchen, still half-asleep, to find him waiting with a mug in hand and a soft smile on his lips. The day would stretch out before you, unhurried and serene, a canvas for whatever simple joys you decided to indulge in. 

He envisioned quiet evenings in the living room, where the two of you would sit side by side, your legs tangled together as you watched movies, your laughter or quiet conversations filling the room. Or perhaps, he mused, there would be nights where no words were needed—where you’d simply sway to the rhythm of music only the two of you could hear, dancing slowly in the dim light of your cozy space. Those were the moments he looked forward to, where nothing else mattered but the gentle pulse of your love, a steady, comforting presence that would fill the apartment with a sense of belonging.

He spoke of the laughter that would echo through the kitchen as you experimented with new recipes, each attempt a delightful adventure, whether it ended in culinary success or a flour-covered mess. The thought of you animatedly talking about bees, your special interest, brought a tender smile to his face. He was excited to hear you ramble on about your latest findings, to listen to your voice light up with passion as you shared the intricacies of something you loved so dearly. For him, the simple joy of coming home to you after a long day, of seeing your face light up when you saw him, was a treasure beyond words. It was in these everyday moments, he believed, that the true beauty of life together would unfold.

Each word he spoke was a delicate thread, weaving a tapestry of the life you would build together—a life rich in love, comfort, and endless moments of shared happiness. As he continued to paint this picture with his words, you felt the tightness in your chest begin to ease, the panic that had gripped you slowly loosening its hold. The overwhelming mess that surrounded you, while still daunting, no longer felt like an insurmountable mountain. 

When he offered to help you pack your bedroom, it wasn’t just the task at hand he was addressing—it was the unspoken promise that you wouldn’t have to face any of it alone. With Hyeongjun by your side, you knew that no matter how overwhelming the process might seem, you would get through it together. The future you were moving toward, though filled with uncertainties, was also brimming with the promise of love, and that was more than enough to keep you going.

이주연 ── LEE JOOYEON.

Since childhood, Saturdays had been your sacred ritual, a cherished time when you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of your favorite internet cafe. Nestled on a tranquil street near your home, this digital sanctuary had become your second haven. The space was a dimly lit enclave, bathed in warm amber hues that softly illuminated rows of screens and keyboards. The gentle hum of cooling fans and the rhythmic clatter of keys created a soothing symphony of focused activity. The walls were adorned with neon posters of popular games and vibrant advertisements for energy drinks, their colors shimmering and pulsing with the memories of countless gaming sessions. Each desk bore the marks of countless hours spent in virtual worlds, with personal touches and signs of frequent use that told stories of dedicated gamers. The chairs, worn and comfortable, had molded to fit their occupants perfectly.

The employees, who had long grown accustomed to your weekly visits, had come to appreciate your presence. They reserved a specific PC for you, tucked away in a semi-secluded corner you had claimed as your own years ago. This desk, bathed in the soft, reassuring glow of your screen, was where you felt most at ease, completely immersed in the digital adventures you embarked upon. The ritual of arriving, settling in, and losing yourself in your chosen game was a comforting certainty, a bubble of predictability in a world that often felt overwhelming.

However, recently, this cherished routine had been disrupted by a new and vibrant presence. Jooyeon, as you would eventually learn, was the boy whose frequent visits began to unsettle the calm monotony of your Saturdays. His arrival was like a burst of vivid color and exuberant energy crashing into your serene haven. The air would come alive with his boisterous laughter and animated conversations with friends, his presence a dynamic contrast to the quiet you had grown accustomed to.

Despite this disruption, you found yourself surprisingly receptive to the change. Jooyeon, with his strikingly handsome features, was impossible to overlook. His mischievous grin, ever-present and wide, seemed to illuminate the room as if he were the very essence of playful charm. Dressed in soft, well-worn hoodies paired with relaxed jeans, and with his shoulder-length hair cascading like a dark, flowing waterfall, he exuded an effortlessly cool demeanor. His interactions with friends and his choice of games created a vivid contrast against the backdrop of your reserved routine, adding an unexpected layer of excitement to your once predictable Saturdays.

There were moments when, despite your best efforts to stay focused on your own game, you would catch fleeting glimpses of him from the corner of your eye. You tried to remain unobtrusive, but Jooyeon's unabashed enjoyment of the popular games he was engrossed in was impossible to ignore. The occasional flicker of movement or the burst of his distinctive laughter would effortlessly draw your gaze, breaking through the veil of your concentration.

On one particular Saturday, Jooyeon’s frustration had reached its zenith. After what felt like the hundredth defeat in his solo game, he dramatically slumped back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head in a gesture of surrender. His eyes, alight with a mixture of defiance and amusement, wandered towards your screen, where you were deeply immersed in a particularly demanding quest. As you navigated through the game with meticulous keystrokes, Jooyeon’s gaze lingered on you, an unspoken challenge mingling with curiosity that sent a flutter through your heart.

Despite the distraction of his intense scrutiny, you managed to achieve a hard-fought victory, leveling up with a triumphant flourish on your screen. The soft hum of intrigue that escaped Jooyeon’s lips prompted you to finally look up, your heart racing as you became acutely aware of the flush warming your cheeks. Jooyeon’s grin remained undiminished, his eyes sparkling with an affectionate, teasing light. After a moment of shy silence, his laughter bubbled forth, a soft, infectious sound that seemed to fill the space between you. His amusement wrapped around you like a playful embrace, acknowledging the unspoken connection that had quietly woven itself into the fabric of your Saturday rituals.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, meant only for you to hear. “I heard that game is pretty good. Do you mind if I join?” The simple invitation opened the door to a new, intimate connection. From that moment on, Saturdays transformed into a shared adventure, where you and Jooyeon would indulge in games together, swapping playful jabs and cracking jokes. The hours spent with him became the highlight of your week, and the growing affection you felt for him added a layer of significance to each interaction. You found yourself seeking ways to show him how much he meant to you.

Noticing his habit of picking at his skin whenever he was stressed or anxious, you returned the following week with a thoughtful gift: a textured, silicone stress ball from your own collection, designed to help him redirect his nervous energy without damaging his skin. On another occasion, as you patiently waited for him to clear a level in a game you were both playing, you couldn’t help but be charmed by the expression of concentration on his face. Without fully thinking through your words, you blurted out, “You have this cute habit of pouting when you’re really focused. It’s kind of distracting, but in a way that makes me want to keep watching.” The sudden boldness of your words left you both blushing, but Jooyeon’s shy attempt to hide his wide smile made the moment feel worth the slight embarrassment.

When Jooyeon revealed that he was an idol, the bassist for the rock band Xdinary Heroes, you found yourself spending the entire week immersed in his music and learning everything you could about him. By the time Saturday rolled around again, you were eager to confess your newfound knowledge. As he settled into his usual seat beside you, you said with a grin, “I was thinking about you so much that I ended up reading every article, watching every video, and listening to every song from your band. I have so many questions about you guys!” The sight of Jooyeon’s typically casual demeanor giving way to shyness, while his grin widened, was heartwarming. He eagerly entertained each of your questions, his enthusiasm is infectious as ever.

Finally, on one late evening, as the employees of the internet cafe gently nudged you both towards the exit, you lingered outside, a smile playing on your lips. Turning to Jooyeon, you said softly, “I really like spending time with you. You make my brain feel all fizzy, like I’ve had too much caffeine, but in a really good way.” 

To your surprise, he chuckled lightly and replied, “Okay, so, I don’t usually say stuff like this, but...whenever I’m with you, it’s like my brain gets all tangled up in butterflies and excitement. I really like spending time with you, too.”

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! @joosbasschick (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

─── ⋆⋅☆ CURIOUS PLEASURES ( xdinary heroes )

❛ Seungmin, intrigued yet apprehensive, tentatively asks you to explore new sexual experiences together after hearing about his coworkers' preferences.

𝐨𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.9k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 15 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ It took me a second to write this because I wasn't sure of how to start it, but I did it! This was requested by the amazing🍀 Anon! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, anal fingering (male receiving), blowjob, use of a vibrator, handjob, mentions of watching porn, established relationship, Non-Idol AU, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

As you leave your boyfriend’s workplace, Seungmin reaches for your hand. His touch is warm and familiar, grounding you in the present moment. The late afternoon sun dips low in the sky, casting elongated shadows along the sidewalk, and the two of you naturally fall into a comfortable rhythm, your steps matching as you head toward your usual spot—a quaint little ice cream shop a few blocks away. The conversation between you is light at first, filled with the small moments of your day, the kinds of things you always share during these evening walks. You notice that Seungmin seems a bit distant, his gaze unfocused as if he's lost in thought, but you decide not to press him, trusting that he’ll share what’s on his mind when he’s ready.  

When you reach the shop, the bell above the door chimes softly, its gentle sound blending with the soft murmur of conversations inside. You both head to the counter, Seungmin ordering his favorite flavor with a hint of his usual smile, and you choose yours. Finding a cozy booth near the window, you settle in, the sun’s golden rays filtering through the glass, casting a warm glow that dances across Seungmin’s cheeks, highlighting the soft flush that lingers there. As you sit across from him, you can't help but notice the subtle tension still lingering in his posture. He’s fidgety, his spoon stirring his ice cream more than he’s eating it. 

“What’s on your mind?” you ask after a moment, your curiosity getting the better of you. You take a slow spoonful of your ice cream, eyes focused on him. You've learned to recognize the signs—the way his lips are slightly pursed, how his eyes dart around as if searching for the right words. 

Seungmin hesitates, his gaze flicking up to meet yours for a brief moment before dropping back down to his bowl. “So, um, today at the shop, Hyeongjun and Jungsu were talking about... something,” he says, his voice quieter than usual, almost shy. 

You raise a curious eyebrow, leaning in a bit closer. “Yeah? What were they talking about?”

His cheeks flush a soft pink, and he looks down, his spoon making small, aimless circles in his bowl as if he’s debating whether to continue or let the subject drop. After a few seconds of silence, he sighs softly, a bit of resolve settling in his eyes. “They were talking about... well, how they sometimes like it when their partners take control. You know, like being the one who... takes the lead in bed.” 

You blink, a bit surprised by the sudden turn into more intimate territory, but you feel a smile tugging at your lips. There’s something incredibly endearing about how he fumbles for the right words, his shyness evident in the way his cheeks redden further. “Really? And what did you think about that?” you ask gently, your tone encouraging as you watch his expression closely, trying to gauge his thoughts.

He shifts in his seat, clearly feeling a mix of embarrassment and intrigue. “I... I don’t know. I mean, I guess I never really thought about it as an option.” His voice drops even lower as he glances around the mostly empty ice cream shop, making sure no one is close enough to overhear. Then, he leans in closer, his face so near to yours that your breaths mingle, and you feel a slight shiver run through you. “They mentioned something about, um, using a strap and, well... it sounded kind of interesting.” His words come out in a whisper, his vulnerability palpable. 

For a moment, you’re caught off guard by his confession, but a soft smile forms on your lips. There's a rush of excitement at the unexpected turn of the conversation, a thrill that sends a warm flutter through your veins. “If it’s something you’re curious about, we can definitely try it whenever you want,” you reply, your voice gentle and reassuring. “I’d be more than happy to explore that with you.” You want him to know there’s no pressure, only a safe space to share and explore whatever he’s comfortable with.

Seungmin's eyes widen slightly, and his cheeks deepen to a lovely shade of crimson. His gaze drops back to his slowly melting ice cream, and he murmurs, “Really? You’d be okay with something like that? You don’t think it’s too... weird?”

Your smile softens into something more earnest as you reach across the table, placing your hand over his. “Of course, I’d love to try it out with you, my love. You should always know that I want to make you feel good. If that means stepping out of our comfort zones, then I’m always open to at least discussing it. We can start slow, see how it feels for both of us, okay?” 

Seungmin nods, his expression a beautiful mix of relief, nerves, and budding excitement. There’s a lightness to his eyes now, a sense of comfort and trust that wasn’t there before. The rest of your ice cream date continues with a more playful energy, the earlier tension melting away like the last bit of ice cream in your bowls.

As you walk home together, hand in hand, you sense a shift in the air—a quiet, almost electric anticipation that seems to vibrate between you. The evening light fades, casting soft shadows along the pavement, and the rhythm of your footsteps is steady yet filled with a subtle tension. Your mind swirls with a whirlwind of possibilities, considering all the ways you could begin this new and intimate journey of taking control with Seungmin in the bedroom. However, you quickly realize that, despite the rush of ideas, you don’t have the faintest clue where to start or what to do. A small comfort comes from the fact that this is as new for him as it is for you. Whatever happens next will be a learning experience for both of you—a shared exploration of uncharted territory.  

When you finally reach your shared apartment, Seungmin releases a deep breath, the kind that seems to settle from somewhere deep inside, as the two of you kick off your shoes at the entrance and shrug out of your thin jackets. His expression is distant, clearly still mulling over the conversation from the ice cream shop. You decide to give him space to gather his thoughts and head to the small kitchen, opening the fridge to retrieve a cold bottle of water to soothe your dry throat. The coolness of the bottle against your skin feels grounding, a sharp contrast to the heat building within you.  

Seungmin has followed you quietly, his presence a gentle shadow behind you. When you offer him the bottle, he takes a generous swig, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. Then, he speaks, his voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with a tentative courage: "I think I'd like to try... starting small. If that's okay."  

His words send a quickening pulse through your veins, your heartbeat drumming a little faster as it dawns on you that Seungmin is eager to explore this newfound curiosity much sooner than you had anticipated. You offer him a reassuring smile, finishing the last of the water before tossing the empty bottle into the recycling bin. Gently, you take his hand, fingers intertwining with his as you lead him toward your shared bedroom. "We can definitely start with something simple," you say softly, your voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the apartment. "And we'll only go as far as you’re comfortable with."  

You turn to face him, your gaze soft but sensual, hoping to ease his nerves. Your hand comes to rest over his chest, where you can feel the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm. You’re about to guide him back toward the bed, a gentle pressure on his chest to encourage him to sit, but his eyes suddenly widen, and a flicker of panic crosses his face. He steps back quickly, his breath shaky, and his cheeks are flushed a deep, telling crimson.  

"Uh, I'm sorry—I just remembered something that the guys told me I had to do before doing any of this... Can you wait for me while I take a quick shower?" he asks, his words tumbling out in a rush. His eyes avoid yours, and you can see the embarrassment and nerves written all over his expression.

You can't help but furrow your brows, confusion evident as you tilt your head slightly to the side. Still, you nod silently, giving him the space he needs. Seungmin’s sudden sprint toward the bathroom would have been comical if it weren’t for the knot of anxiety and mild bewilderment tightening in your stomach. The bathroom is just down the short hallway, right next to the bedroom, and you hear the door close behind him, followed by the faint sound of water rushing through the pipes.  

With a soft sigh, you sit on the edge of your shared bed, feeling the anticipation build anew. Slipping your phone from the back pocket of your work pants, you decide to make use of the unexpected time alone. You navigate the internet with a mix of anxious curiosity and burgeoning excitement, searching for any ideas or suggestions on how to approach this new dynamic between you and Seungmin.  

Your eyes skim through informative websites and, eventually, a few more porn videos, your breath growing a little heavier as you delve deeper. With each click, each new insight, a slow, simmering arousal builds within you, blending with the thrill of the unknown. You can’t help but wonder why neither of you had brought up this possibility sooner, feeling the thrill of finally stepping into this unspoken desire for the first time. A smile tugs at your lips as you imagine the possibilities, your mind already spinning with thoughts of how you’ll guide Seungmin through this first experience, both of you ready to explore and discover together.

You're lounging on the bed, phone in hand, scrolling through the endless pages of information when the gentle patter of water from the bathroom reaches your ears. It’s a soothing, rhythmic sound, one that fills the room with a sense of calm anticipation. A few moments later, the door creaks open, and Seungmin steps out, the steam curling around him like a fine mist. A towel is wrapped snugly around his waist, clinging to his hips, while his hair, still damp from the shower, clings in soft, tousled strands that curl at the ends. Droplets of water trail from his dark locks, gliding down the curve of his neck and catching the soft light, leaving a shimmering trail along his freshly washed skin. His whole body seems to glisten, a fresh sheen of water still lingering on his toned form.  

He pauses in the doorway of your shared bedroom, a mix of nerves and excitement painting his cheeks with a rosy flush. There’s a sheepish yet giddy smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and his eyes—wide, filled with an intriguing blend of trepidation and thrill—lock onto yours. His gaze is magnetic, pulling you in, and you can't help but return his smile, your heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and newfound confidence, now bolstered by the things you'd just learned online. You notice the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other, the towel around his waist swaying slightly with the movement. There’s a playful unease in his posture—a hesitancy tempered with the eager curiosity of diving into something new and unknown.

Setting your phone aside, you rise from your spot at the edge of the bed, your eyes never leaving his. You close the short distance between you, a silent promise written in the intensity of your gaze. When you reach him, your hands find his, and you pull him into a deep, passionately reassuring kiss. He responds immediately, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that matches your own. As you gently nip at his bottom lip, a silent plea for more, he lets out a soft whimper that sends a rush of arousal through you. His lips part willingly, and you waste no time, your tongue slipping into his mouth, tangling with his in an intimate dance that deepens with every second.  

Without breaking the heated exchange, you guide him back toward the bed. His steps are tentative at first, but he quickly catches on, and you coax him down to sit where you had been moments before, right on the edge of the bed. As he takes his seat, you lower yourself onto your knees between his legs, using his knees to steady yourself. Only then do you break the kiss, pulling back just enough to search his eyes. You look for any signs of hesitation, of discomfort, but all you find is a new glint—a desperate need that you’ve never seen in him before.  

Unable to resist the pull of his swollen lips, you lean in and press a fleeting, tender kiss there, your lips lingering just long enough to leave a warmth behind. Then, you begin a slow, deliberate trail down his jawline, your lips grazing his skin in soft, teasing pecks that send shivers rippling through him. His breath catches, and when you reach his collarbones, you pause, knowing just how sensitive he is in that spot. The response is instant and intense; his hand tangles in your hair with a grip that borders on painful but stings in a way that’s oddly thrilling, while his other hand cups the back of your head, trying to pull you even closer, as if he can’t get enough.  

It takes a moment for you to remember that tonight, the power is yours. With a sly smile, you pull back from his collarbone, leaving him breathless, his eyes half-lidded with desire. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths, and a delicious sense of control surges through you. Moving with deliberate slowness, you reach down and take hold of both his wrists, guiding them to rest on either side of him on the bed. Seungmin’s eyes are glazed with lust, his chest still heaving, but he obeys, keeping his hands where you’ve placed them, though his fingers twitch with the instinctive urge to reach for you.  

There’s a delicious tension in the air—a fine line between his restraint and his yearning. His struggle to maintain control only heightens the atmosphere, and your smirk deepens as you lean back in, brushing your lips close to his ear, your breath warm against his skin as you whisper, “Tonight, you’re mine.” The words seem to electrify him, a soft gasp escaping his lips, and you can feel the thrill of anticipation building between you, ready to explode into something neither of you will soon forget.

Your tongue trails a slow, languid path down his chest and along his torso, leaving a glistening trail in its wake as you maintain a steady, lustful gaze on his face. His breath comes in soft, trembling pants, his chest rising and falling with each exhale. You relish in the way his eyes, half-lidded with desire, meet yours—a silent plea hidden within their depths. As you descend lower, you notice that the towel he'd wrapped around his waist after his shower has unraveled at some point, revealing the sight of his beautifully hard cock, already leaking with desperate arousal. The sight makes your own pulse quicken, and you waste no time in indulging him further.

You start with a classic approach, your tongue tracing slow, deliberate circles around his tip, savoring the salty taste of him as you listen to the soft, needy sounds that escape his lips. His breath hitches sharply as you take him deeper, letting the heat of your mouth wrap around him. His fingers curl into the sheets, knuckles whitening with the strain, and you can feel the way his hips fight to stay still beneath you, each twitch betraying his desire. Your pace is slow and deliberate, allowing him to fully immerse himself in the overwhelming sensation of your mouth, your hands, and the rhythmic undulation of your movements. His breathing grows uneven, each inhale shaky and filled with anticipation.

When you finally pull away, you revel in the sight before you: his cheeks flushed a deep pink, his lips parted as he pants for breath, and his eyes half-closed in a haze of pleasure. "I want to try something," you murmur softly, your voice low and teasing as you reach into the nearby drawer. His gaze follows your movements, widening slightly when he sees what you've retrieved—a small, sleek vibrator, the soft hum of it filling the room as you switch it to its lowest setting. There’s a flicker of curiosity mixed with a hint of apprehension in his expression, his eyes darting between the toy and your face. "Just relax," you whisper reassuringly, your tone a soothing balm against the charged atmosphere. 

You begin by teasing the vibrator along his length, pressing it gently against his shaft while continuing your ministrations with your mouth. His reaction is immediate and electrifying—his hips jerk slightly, and a sharp intake of breath escapes him, his voice caught somewhere between a moan and a gasp. It's clear he's never felt anything like this before, evident in the way his cock continues to leak, a steady stream of arousal that makes your own excitement build. You keep your movements steady and methodical, letting the vibrator explore all the sensitive spots along his cock, each touch drawing shivers and jerks from his body. A proud grin tugs at your lips as you watch his responses, the way his brows knit together, and his lips part to release soft, breathless moans.

As his pleasure builds, you decide to take things a step further. You move lower, cradling his balls in one hand—now drenched in a mix of his arousal and your saliva—while keeping the vibrator pressed against him with the other. He lets out a slightly high-pitched moan of surprise, his brows furrowing even tighter as his face contorts in sheer pleasure. "Does this feel good?" you ask softly, your voice a soothing caress as you watch his face closely for any sign of discomfort. He nods quickly, his voice catching in his throat as he manages a strained, "Y-yeah... feels really good." 

Encouraged by his response, you continue, your fingers gradually slipping lower to tease along his entrance. His breath hitches again, but this time there's an eager undertone, a breathless anticipation evident in the way he instinctively pushes his hips forward, silently begging for more. With a soft chuckle, you decide to tease him a little further. You make a show of spitting a generous amount of saliva onto your index finger, letting it drip and glisten in the dim light before applying gentle pressure, just the tip at first. He moans softly, his body tensing, his upper lip curling up in slight discomfort before he begins to relax. He leans back onto his forearms against the bed, and you take the opportunity to wrap your lips around his cock once more.

You take your time, keeping your finger still at first, letting him adjust. His breaths come in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to steady himself. All the while, you maintain eye contact, wanting him to feel safe, to feel cherished in this vulnerable moment. "You're doing so well, baby," you whisper, your voice soft and encouraging. "Just relax and enjoy it." With each careful thrust of your finger, with each glide of his tip against the back of your throat, with each slow, teasing movement of the vibrator against his shaft—his body begins to respond. His breaths grow deeper and more ragged, his hips moving in time with your rhythm. 

When you add a second finger, stretching him gently, he lets out a soft, almost whimpering moan, his entire body trembling as you find that sweet spot inside him. His reactions are raw and breathtaking—a beautiful mix of vulnerability and desire that sends an addictive rush of arousal through you. You relish the sight of him unraveling under your touch, his expression a mix of pleasure and desperation. You hope, with a deep yearning, that this won't be the last time you get to see him like this—completely at your mercy, lost in the overwhelming pleasure you're giving him.

As you continue your rhythm, his hips begin to move instinctively, chasing the pleasure you're giving him with every thrust and stroke. His body reacts to your touch like a finely tuned instrument, his soft gasps and breathy moans blending harmoniously with the low hum of your small vibrator. The room fills with a symphony of intimacy—lewd, wet sounds mingling with the ragged cadence of his breathing and the slick slide of your fingers moving in and out of his entrance. His body is alive with sensation, each jolt of pleasure pushing him closer to the edge. You can feel it in the way his cock twitches within your mouth, desperate and aching, and in the way his hands begin to reach out, searching for something—anything—to anchor himself to in this sea of pleasure.

Sensing his need for connection, you decide to turn off the vibrator, its quiet hum fading as you toss it aside. Instead, you take one of his trembling hands in yours, intertwining your fingers together. The simple touch is grounding, bringing him back to the present, and you give his hand a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that you’re right here with him. His breath stutters in his chest, and you take a moment to savor his reaction as you bob your head along his length, letting your tongue twirl and dance around him with deliberate slowness. You pull away with a soft, wet pop, your lips red and swollen, still brushing kisses along his shaft. “That’s it,” you murmur, your voice a hushed command, each word a warm breath against his sensitive skin that sends shivers coursing through him. "Let go for me, my love."

When you take him back into your mouth, your lips enveloping him in a warm, wet heat, he gasps, his body taut with anticipation. Your tongue teases the slit at his tip, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum, while your fingers work with a newfound urgency, picking up their pace as they curl and press, grazing his sensitive spot inside with precision. The effect is immediate and electrifying—his body tenses, his hips bucking slightly as he teeters on the brink. His moans grow louder, his breath more erratic, and you can feel his restraint slipping away. It doesn’t take long before Seungmin is coming undone beneath you, his release crashing over him like a wave. 

His body trembles violently with pleasure, his muscles clenching and relaxing in a rhythmic dance of surrender. His eyes flutter shut, and his lips part as a broken, breathless moan escapes him, echoing through the room. His fingers grip yours tightly, holding on as if afraid to let go, his trust in you deepening with every exhale. You feel a profound connection in this moment—a wordless understanding, a bond that transcends the physical. His vulnerability, his trust, his surrender—they are gifts, and you cherish each one as he loses himself in the intensity of his climax, feeling the weight of the intimacy shared between you.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @joosbasschick @xhfics (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

🫐 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 ( p1harmony )

❛ In which you undergo a profoundly personal transformation with the support of your doting boyfriend, Jongseob.

𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 + trans boy reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 6 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Definitely at the very top of my favorite pieces I've worked on, it was so incredibly self-indulgent (I'm masc non-binary, for context). Am I the only one who gets insane gender envy whenever I look at him? Anyway, this piece was requested by my wonderful 🩷 Anon! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! Enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Established relationship, Y/N recently came out as a trans guy, Jongseob cuts your hair, non-sexual partial nudity, Jongseob helps you put on your new trans-tape, mentions of anxiety and relief, extremely soft fluff.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

Your formerly long hair lies scattered on the bathroom floor, a silent testament to the transformative act that has just taken place. The once familiar cascade of locks is now a mere memory, replaced by a new, lighter version of yourself. Your gaze meets the mirror, and you are confronted with an image that is almost foreign yet curiously comforting. There is something soothing about the new reflection, a symbol of change and renewal that resonates deeply within you.

Jongseob stands behind you, his presence a steady anchor amidst the sea of change. His eyes are soft with a mixture of care and concentration as his fingers navigate through your wet hair. He holds a pair of scissors with a gentle grip, every snip measured and deliberate. The usual meticulousness he brings to everything is evident in the way he trims your hair, his subtle anxiety betraying his desire for perfection. It’s clear he wants this moment to be as perfect for you as it is significant, his love and attention to detail blending seamlessly into his every movement.

On your bed, the brand new roll of trans tape he’d ordered online sits untouched in its packaging. It is a tangible reminder of the heartfelt surprise Jongseob prepared for you after you confided your greatest secret to him. The gesture, though seemingly small, carries a weight of emotional significance—a symbol of his unwavering support and the deep bond you both share. It is a testament to his understanding and acceptance, a touching affirmation of his commitment to stand by you through every step of your journey.

As Jongseob finishes the impromptu haircut, a grin spreads across his face, reflecting in the mirror. His hands gently scrunch up your freshly cut hair, molding it into soft curls that will dry into a new shape. The satisfaction in his expression is palpable, his pride in the results evident as he admires his handiwork. The moment is imbued with a sense of shared triumph and intimacy, a celebration of not just a physical transformation but the deepening of your relationship—a bond that has grown stronger through vulnerability and trust.

“What do you think?” Jongseob asks, his voice floating in from a realm that feels almost distant compared to the whirlwind of emotions you are experiencing. The question hangs in the air, mingling with the sound of your pounding heart, which feels as though it might escape from your chest at any moment. The change in your appearance, marked by the dramatic reduction in your hair's length, has an almost liberating effect. It feels as though a heavy burden has been lifted, replaced by a newfound lightness and freedom.

As you turn to face Jongseob, your face lights up with a smile that seems to stretch wider than you ever thought possible. It’s a genuine, unrestrained expression of joy and relief, radiating across your features with an intensity that is both beautiful and profound. The act of hugging Jongseob tightly becomes a physical manifestation of the immense gratitude and affection you feel for him. It’s a silent thank you wrapped in the warmth of your embrace, a way of conveying the depth of your emotional release and the significance of his support.

In that tight hug, you find solace and a shared moment of triumph, your new look symbolizing not just a change in appearance but a step towards embracing a truer version of yourself. Jongseob’s presence, so close and reassuring, anchors you in this moment of personal victory, making it all the more meaningful. The joy and relief you feel are mirrored in the closeness of your embrace, a tender affirmation of the bond that strengthens with each shared experience.

The remnants of your once long hair lie scattered across the bathroom tiles, a silent testament to the transformation that has just taken place. As you peel off your shirt, revealing your bare torso, you feel a sense of liberation. The act of shedding your clothes, like the shedding of your hair, symbolizes a deeper release, an embrace of your truest self.

Jongseob is absorbed in the task of unwrapping the trans tape, his voice a soothing murmur as he explains the proper way to use it. His words flow continuously, a gentle reminder of his care and dedication, but your focus drifts with each step he takes closer to you. The proximity of his presence is comforting, though it makes it hard to concentrate on anything but the fluttering emotions within you.

Every now and then, Jongseob steals a kiss on your cheeks and jaw, each touch tender and affectionate. The gentle press of his lips against your skin makes you giggle, the sound light and joyful. He carefully tapes the fabric onto your chest, his movements deliberate and attentive. You watch him through the full-length mirror you own, observing the way his expressions shift with concentration and care.

By the time Jongseob finishes his task, you are overwhelmed by a surge of emotion. The euphoric difference the tape makes is almost too much to contain, and you find yourself pushing back tears. The sight of your new appearance, paired with Jongseob’s loving attention, brings an intense wave of relief and happiness. The emotional weight of the moment is palpable, a mixture of joy and gratitude that touches the core of your being.

“You look so handsome,” Jongseob whispers into your ear, his breath warm and intimate against your skin. He stands behind you, his arms encircling your waist in a loving embrace. As you catch glimpses of him through the mirror, his eyes are alight with a depth of love and admiration that makes your heart flutter uncontrollably. The intensity of his gaze and the sincerity of his words make it impossible for you to maintain eye contact, and you find yourself looking away, overwhelmed by a soaring sense of joy.

Without waiting for a response, Jongseob moves towards your bed, where your carefully chosen outfit lies neatly. He picks up your brand new shirt with a sense of purpose, his movements smooth and deliberate. As he helps you put it on, the sight of your chest appearing flatter and more aligned with your true self fills you with an overwhelming emotion. The change is profound, and the reality of it tugs at your heartstrings, causing tears to well up uncontrollably.

Jongseob holds you close, his words a gentle, repetitive murmur that reassures you of his pride and admiration. “I’m so proud of you,” he repeats, each phrase infused with genuine affection. As he kisses the side of your head repeatedly, the touch of his lips is both soothing and affirming, reinforcing the bond you share and the significance of the moment. His tender embrace and heartfelt praise become a sanctuary, enveloping you in a cocoon of love and validation as you navigate the depth of your emotions.

As you finish dressing, you find yourself captivated by your new, masculine appearance. The reflection in the mirror reveals a transformation that feels both affirming and exhilarating. Your gaze is interrupted when Jongseob excuses himself into the bathroom, carrying his familiar backpack filled with spare clothes. The wait feels interminable, each minute stretching into what feels like an hour as anticipation builds.

When Jongseob finally emerges, the sight before you brings tears to your eyes all over again. His long blond hair has been styled into whimsical space-buns, adding a touch of playful charm to his look. He’s applied white mascara and a hint of blush, enhancing his features with a subtle yet striking glow. The pink sunglasses perched on his nose add a splash of color and fun. He wears a black and white striped sweater, its distressed holes lending it a well-loved, worn feel. Completing the ensemble is a long, flowy black skirt that swirls gracefully with each movement.

Jongseob’s grin is a mixture of excitement and nervousness, a reflection of his own emotional journey. As you take in his transformed appearance, you feel an overwhelming surge of affection and admiration. You rush to embrace him tightly, the hug conveying a depth of emotion that words alone cannot capture. “You look so beautiful,” you tell him, your voice filled with heartfelt sincerity.

His cheeks flush with a rosy blush at your compliment, the effect of your words visibly touching him. The warmth of his blush and the radiance of his smile combine to create a moment of shared joy and mutual admiration. The connection between you is palpable, the exchange of affirmations deepening the bond you share and celebrating the beauty of each other's true selves.

With both of you ready, you set out for a nearby park, the anticipation of the evening adding a lightness to your steps. The park, bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun, provides a picturesque backdrop for your picnic. You find a cozy spot on the grass, spreading out your blanket and settling in.

As you begin to enjoy the picnic, the conversation flows effortlessly between you. There’s a natural ease in your dialogue, a comfortable rhythm that makes the moments feel both intimate and joyous. The simple pleasure of feeding each other blueberries becomes a delightful ritual, the small, sweet bursts of flavor adding to the sense of shared contentment.

The sun dips lower on the horizon, casting a warm, amber glow over the park. The soft light reflects off Jongseob’s face, highlighting his features with a gentle radiance. Each laugh and smile is amplified by the serene setting, the beauty of the moment enriched by the perfect harmony of your company and the tranquil surroundings.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

choose what you want to read!

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🦇 ‘till forever falls apart 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. han jisung x idol!fem!reader

‧₊° content warnings. han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression. reader has fibromyalgia. constant mention of being in pain. love-making. cussing. lots of angst. more to be added.

‧₊° rating. 18+

‧₊° summary. in which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

EDIT: It’s in progress! Click on the title to read!

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🌅 i can’t change 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. bisexual!lee felix x male!reader

‧₊° content warnings. abuse, violence, homophobia conversion therapy, angst, mlm relationship, drug use (nothing too heavy, drinking, running away, smut, anal sex, blow job, rimming, fingering, semi-public sex

‧₊° rating. 18+

‧₊° summary. humanity was simply not made to reach the glorious sky without needing to return to the ground, this is a simple fact that both felix and y/n needed to learn one way or another. still, when each glance gets you drunk with a feeling you’d never quite experienced before, you can’t help but risk everything for his affection.

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🏫 the only exception 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing. student!seungmin x student!fem!reader

‧₊° content warnings. brutal attack and kidnapping. death is mentioned a lot in different ways. neglectful parent. plot twist.

‧₊° rating: 16+

‧₊° summary. after her mother gets suddenly kidnapped right before her eyes, and her father didn’t seem to care enough, y/n embarks on a mission to save her mother with a strange boy from school to help along the journey.

reblog to spread the word!

hey hun! just wanted to check up on you and see how you were doing. i know i haven’t sent anything in a while, but life is kinda crazy for me right now. anyway hope you’re well! sending healthy and happy vibes your way!!

(also i do have some more requests, but i know you have a lot to go through and I didn’t want to bombard you with a bunch of asks. maybe i’ll send them in a few days or so…)

- 🍀

Hey 🍀, baby! I’m doing pretty good, struggling with my chronic pain flaring up at the moment but it’s all good 🫶 How’s life going for you? Can I ask how crazy it is?

Oh, I’m so excited to receive them since they’re always so good 👀 Honestly you can send them in anyway because I don’t go through my requests in order, I just write whichever inspires me first and I go from there. So if you send them all now (or not, it’s really up to you), then I might get to some of them before I get to others depending on what the mood is when I sit down to write.

Side note: I finished writing the Nuggetz threesome and when I tell you that it’s hands down the nastiest, sexiest shit I’ve ever written. Like, I don’t wanna toot my own horn but I’m so proud of it and I’m so excited to post it once I’m done writing Gunil’s (which is nearly finished).

Thank you for checking in! Sending you lots of love and positive energy! Also please make sure to eat and drink water 🫵😠

right? it’s so underrated 😞

hi green, how are you doing ?? i hope everything’s alright<33

i hope you dont mind but i wanted to request something again >< i was wondering if you could write a smut with chan, but focus more on the aftercare ??

lets say he had a stressful week and during sex he decided to reselase his anger and stress on the reader, but they had a hard week themselves and just couldnt take it, so they decided to use their safeword and channie would be all like oh ?? and maybe the reader would even cry a little and be apologetic, because “i’m so sorry, i know you had a hard time, i just can’t do it today” saying that while clinging to him and seeking comfort >:((

and then chan would focus on making them feel safe, he would clean the up and reassure them that if completely fine and he's proud of them and just the whole aftercare part ><

if its too much then its completely fine !! please dont feel pressured to write it if its not your cup of tea<33

anyway, please take care !!😽

use of the safe word.

other works by green.

pairing: chan x female reader

content warnings: hurt/comfort, rough and overwhelming sex, crying, bloody lip, aftercare, not proofread

rating: 18+

summary: chan had always been the sweetest human ever, but after you’d both had a rough week, you both find out that you had different ways of decompressing.

His fingers found their way to your throat while he groaned in your ear, squeezing in a way you usually adored as Chan thrusted in and out of you at a brutal pace. He was completely lost in his own world, moaning about how tight you felt around him and how he’d been thinking about having you like this all day after the stress he’s had to deal with over the course of several days. It was difficult to breathe for you, though, all of your senses seemingly going haywire as you attempted to ground yourself by gripping the sheets below you and trying to focus on his babbles of pleasure. However, instead of enjoying this moment with your lover like you normally would, your mind was a storm of frustration and stress that only increased with Chan’s speed.

It was too much for you — everything about this was overwhelming, including the guilt that followed your distressed thoughts. Chan had arrived home and immediately pulled you in for a rough kiss, and you had followed along because you were well aware of how rough it’s been for him recently and you figured you’d let him release it all on you before talking. Although nothing could’ve prepared you for the complete disconnect that plagued you — you didn’t feel seen or loved, he barely managed to remember some of the things he knew you liked while he chased his own orgasm. It wasn’t to say that he was doing it purposely, you knew that Chan loved you to insanity because this was strange for him.

Unwanted tears rolled down your cheeks, and you bit your lip harshly so as to not let him know of your state since his face was buried into the nape of your neck. His breath felt hot on your skin, and sharp pangs of pain shot up your body with each time Chan bottomed out. Your eyes were squeezed shut so as to prevent any more tears from spilling, and a whimper escaped your lips as your teeth broke skin.

Too much. Too much. I don’t like this!

Chan’s movements became slightly more erratic, which signifies that he was close to achieving his orgasm. But the room was spinning and you didn’t think you could take this roughness any longer.

“Channie, stop, stop, red light!”

All movements halted, dizzying you slightly. Chan pulled back immediately as his grip on your throat loosened and his eyes scanned your face with concern. The sobs were pushing their way out of you and the tears rolled down your cheeks freely and stained the pillow below your head. “I’m so sorry, Channie!”

“Oh— Wait, no, no don’t apologize,” Chan quickly responded, slowly pulling out of you so as to not overwhelm you further. His brows were furrowed, catching sight of your bloody bottom lip and your anguished expression. “What happened baby? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you continued to cry, your entire body shaking violently as you reached for your boyfriend. “I know you’ve been having a hard time, I just can’t take it today.”

He wrapped his muscled arms around your trembling body, kissing the top of your head as the beat of his heart seemed to ground you despite how erratic it was, bringing you back to reality. It was clear that he was still confused, and you were grateful that he wasn’t pushing for an explanation right away. Instead he shifted slightly so that he could place his calloused hand on your chest, applying a bit of pressure while inhaling and exhaling deeply. You followed his breathing pattern, slowly noticing that he’d pulled you into his lap at some point, cradling your body as though it was made of porcelain.

When your cries had slowed to a near stop, he moved his gaze onto your face — guilty eyes searching for any remaining distress. His thumb caressed your cheeks, drying your tears in the process as he attempted a soft smile.

“Baby?”

A shaky breath made its way past your lips, eyes glued to the crumpled sheets while you twiddle your thumbs in your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“No, angel, don’t apologize.” Chan spoke softly, yet his tone was stern. “Please don’t apologize, I’m proud of you for stopping me, okay?”

You could only nod meekly.

“Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Nothing was said, but the shame arose in the form of choked sobs and Chan pulled you back onto his chest while rocking from side to side. His fingers carded through your hair gently as he hummed a nearly inaudible tune to calm you. This time, you were able to pull yourself quicker.

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” He didn’t wait for a response before he was lifting you up slightly and laying you on his side of your shared bed. The sound of his speedy footsteps that made their way to the kitchen were the only thing heard aside from your own ragged breathing.

You sat up when he returned with a cold glass of water in one hand and what looked like a warm, wet towel in the other. He handed you the water first, watching you intently as you hissed a bit as soon as your cut lip made contact with the coldness of your drink. You downed your drink in one go, your throat screeching in relief from how dry it had been until a moment ago.

“I’m going to clean you up a little bit, and then you should pee.”

His rough hands touched your shoulder lightly, nudging you so that you would lay back and spread your lips. The jolt that occurred as soon as you felt the warmth of the towel touch your core had your ears turning red in shame, you knew he wouldn’t purposely hurt you so there was no reason to act like this. You didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across his face.

As you peed, Chan was quietly filling up the bathtub and adding a lavender scented bath bomb to soothe your anxiety. You watched him work from the toilet in silence, lips set into a deep frown.

“It’s done baby,” Chan announced, turning to face you with a benign smile. “We should take care of your lip first though.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled again as you pulled your knees up to your chest. “I haven’t done anything but add to your stress, and it shouldn’t have been like this. I could’ve lasted until you–”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Y/N.” Chan sounded so grave you couldn’t help but inhale sharply, eyes widening slightly. “Please don’t ever do that, we have a safe word for a reason. Always, always use it whenever you’re not having a good time. There’s really no hard feelings for me, what’s important for me is that you’re okay and that I don’t end up hurting you.”

You sniffed, bracing yourself as he neared you with a small cloth that had been dipped in antiseptics that made you hiss at the burn as soon as he dabbed it to your wound. He gently blew on your lip as an effort to lessen the pain.

“You’re so sweet to me.”

Chan pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering for a moment as if to make you feel his love through the simple action – and you did. A small smile made its way onto your face at last as his hands guided you to the bathtub, helping you get in before he knelt beside you.

The warmth of the deliciously scented water instantly relaxed your sore muscles, you sighed in relief. The light swishing sound of the water following your movements seemed to add to your newfound serenity, your eyes falling closed for only a second before the sense of something being missing began gnawing at your mind. You turned to find Chan sitting on the bathroom floor, eyes sparkling as he watched you while resting his chin on the edge of the bathtub. The corners of your mouth quirked up slightly at the sight, heart soaring.

“Join me.”

He shook his head, returning your smile.

“Channie,” you pouted. “You don’t have to feel guilty about what happened, I promised.”

He shook his head again, his smile remaining as he blinked rapidly as if to keep unshed tears at bay.

“Baby, please don’t feel guilty…you didn’t know.”

“No,” his voice cracked a bit. “I should’ve known, you bit your lip so hard you started bleeding. You were crying, you weren’t even able to tell me what happened. I should’ve noticed.”

Your hand touched the side of his face, droplets of water rolling down his smooth skin. “I should have told you I wasn’t okay as soon as I realized, baby. But we can still relax together, please, join me.”

Chan seemed hesitant for a few beats before sighing. He was already naked, so all he needed to do was take his place behind you. It was a tight fit, but you liked this kind of closeness as his arms wrapped themselves tightly around your torso and he rested his chin on your shoulder. Neither of you speak for a bit, basking in the tranquility of it all.

“I’m sorry.”

Not a word needed to be said, so you lifted his hand and kissed it once, twice, three times until he chuckled lightly. He pressed his own lips on your shoulder, and you felt a few tears grace the skin near his lips, so you reached up to his hair and scratched his head as a form of comfort.

“I knew that you were frustrated, stressed and all of that when you brought me to our room and I really thought I would be fine,” you finally explained, Chan had yet to remove his lips from you as he listened. “But I guess I didn’t take into consideration the shitty week I’ve been having too and it was just– a lot of it was just the new boss that arrived last Monday micromanaging every single breath I took, my workload was humongous compared to what I used to have before. He was so condescending, too, just doubting everything I said and asking my male coworkers to double check all the information I provided. I didn’t have a good time. And then we were having sex, and we barely exchanged a few words to each other before that, and it was just very overwhelming. I should’ve said something, so part of it was on me. I will make sure to be better next time, be more vocal about my needs and such.”

Chan lifted his head from your shoulder, cupping his hands to spill some of it onto your hair, massaging your scalp. “I’m sorry your new boss has been such an uptight dick all week…and I’m sorry I was so rough with you– especially without at least talking with you for a bit before, I’ll be sure to check in on you more often when we make love, especially if negative emotions are affecting either of us.”

“I really appreciate you, Channie.” You take his hands in yours, massaging them lightly and playing with his pretty fingers absentmindedly. “What about you, baby, what had you so worked up when you got here?”

Chan’s voice was soothing as he talked, the vibrations of his voice could be felt on his chest and it served as some kind of comforting sensation as you pressed yourself even more to him and closed your eyes.

word count: 1.9k 🛁 posted: 12 • 17 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for this request, Merin. This was such an unexpectedly healing experience for me, and I thank you for it. You’ve only made two requests, but I can tell you that I’ve grown to love when you do since you always ask for such touching topics that aren’t mentioned or discussed enough. So please, request however many times as you’d like!

I hope you’re doing well, and I hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :)

( 🏷️ ) taglist: @grandpafelixx , @agi-ppangx

afjdkgnxhrgvxh i will never get over how good your writing is!!! and I definitely did not expect you to do both requests!!!

i also love all of the heroes, at this point i might as well ask for a fic for the rest of them… it could even be an ot6 fic if you like (but only if you’re comfortable and have the physical and mental capacity to do that, if not no worries!!)

- 🍀

HI 🍀!! I'm so happy you enjoyed it!! Whenever I get more than one request in one message (or by the same person, for that matter), I always try to complete all of them if I can. I just don't like the feeling of doing things halfway. So, here you go!

Oh, I'd be so down to write for all of the members! For that, however, I might need a little more details on what you want for each of them. So if you can give me that, I'll be more than happy to get to work! (Just an FYI, if you request a threesome, I'd be down to write that as well if that's your cup of tea ── but I will only do it if it's just two members + reader; any more than that becomes overwhelming and difficult to write properly).

Also, a little tip! Since you're asking for OT6, I might take a little bit longer than I have so far. BUT! If you send me each member individually or send two or three per request, I might get around to writing them faster. It'll also help me with not posting six fics at the same time, or having them posted one per day since it can make my blog a little cluttered. If you can do any of these, I would really appreciate it!

Again, thank you so much for the support! Your requests genuinely make me so happy since they really allow me to indulge in writing pieces for our Heroes!!

⨳ ❛𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

❛ In which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ) 2.1k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Don’t mind me constantly changing the layouts of my published works, I’m just extremely indecisive, sorry! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression, reader has fibromyalgia, constant mentions of being in pain, love-making, cussing, lots of angst, MDNI.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

⌗ O2┆ 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩

The sun shone generously as you strolled toward the end of your street, where your father's shop awaited. Its golden rays caressed your skin, adding a warm glow to this idyllic summer day. From a distance, you could see groups of friends and families spilling into the store, their animated conversations and broad smiles filling you with a sense of joy for them.

Despite your father’s frequent declarations that the shop's success was due to your own hard work, you found yourself at odds with his sentiment. The moment the entrance bells chimed their familiar greeting and you stepped inside, the atmosphere enveloped you like a refreshing breeze. The low murmur of customers mingled with the soft strains of background music, creating an ambiance that could only be attributed to the man whose dream it truly was.

Inside the shop, the air was cool compared to the summer warmth outside, but it did nothing to deter you from lingering by the side, marveling at the fruits of such a laborious dream. Dozens of plastic and wooden crates, brimming with a harmonious blend of vintage and contemporary vinyl records, were artfully arranged atop tables scattered throughout the store. These crates formed narrow, intimate aisles through which customers wove, searching for the perfect melody to match their mood.

The walls were adorned with posters of your father's beloved artists—rock legends from across the globe like Queen, AC/DC, ONE OK ROCK, and Day6, among others. Between these vibrant tributes, the empty spaces were filled with strands of fairy lights, their soft glow casting a warm, inviting radiance over the shop. This delicate lighting provided both charm and illumination to the otherwise windowless interior.

In truth, your father had transformed what was once a forsaken building, shrouded in the whispers of childhood ghost stories, into a uniquely enchanting haven. It was a space where one could easily retreat from the world, losing themselves amidst the music and the magic he had created.

After a few moments of searching, you finally spotted your father at the back of the shop, surrounded by a small group of men who appeared to be his contemporaries. They were engrossed in lively conversation, their laughter ringing out with genuine warmth and camaraderie. A surge of intense pride swelled in your chest, and a broad, uncontainable smile spread across your face as you watched him effortlessly shine in his element—a sight you had not been fortunate enough to witness until now.

The moment his gaze found yours, his entire demeanor transformed, lighting up with a joyful recognition. He gestured for you to join him, his movement inadvertently interrupting his animated conversation and drawing the attention of his companions to you. You couldn’t help but imagine he was regaling them with stories about you, a proud habit he had maintained since your childhood. Regardless of your recent achievements or lack thereof, he always found a way to weave your name into every conversation, eager to boast about his pride in you.

Your smile remained unwavering as you finally reached him, leaning against a table brimming with crates to momentarily rest, subtly masking your fatigue after offering polite bows to everyone. “Hello!” you greeted warmly.

“This is my daughter, Y/N, the one I’m always bragging about!” your father announced with evident pride.

Whether or not the men were aware of your profession, they masked their surprise with courteous bows in response to your father’s enthusiastic introduction. Despite the slight awkwardness you felt, your father remained blissfully oblivious, continuing to chat animatedly with his friends. He swiftly instructed you to stand behind the cashier as he wrapped up his conversation. You nodded dutifully, offering one final, graceful bow to the customers before following his directions.

Managing the checkout for the customers as they finalized their vinyl purchases proved to be surprisingly effortless, though they scarcely acknowledged you despite your efforts to radiate warmth and friendliness. The contrast between your public persona as Noctara and your everyday self was both amusing and stark, a reminder of how seldom you experienced the luxury of simply being yourself. It was intriguing to note how little recognition you garnered from those purchasing your own records.

Following Manager Jiho’s advice, you had deliberately dressed incognito. It was a rare treat to slip into your gray sweatpants, with a frayed hole at the knee that you stubbornly refused to discard, paired with a plain black crop top and white sneakers. You had exchanged your usual contact lenses for a pair of delicate, thin-framed glasses and gathered your hair into a casually messy high ponytail, accented by a red bandana tied in a small bow atop your head. A face mask completed your disguise, obscuring half of your face. Even with this modest ensemble, the thought of officially meeting these fans crossed your mind, though the idea of photos circulating online revealing your whereabouts was a chilling deterrent.

As the rush hour dwindled and the number of customers was reduced to a few stragglers, your father finally joined you behind the counter. He draped a warm, appreciative arm over your shoulders, his gratitude evident. You waved off his thanks with a soft smile, feeling a sense of contentment as the rhythmic tasks of the day provided a rare moment of tranquility for your weary mind.

As you wearily shifted from one foot to the other, your father gestured towards a tall stool tucked away beneath the counter. With a sigh of relief, you pulled it out and sank onto its comforting seat. The silence between you both was imbued with a gentle familiarity, yet it was clear that conversation was inevitable.

“Your mother mentioned the date,” he began, his tone imbued with a warmth that contrasted with the weariness you felt. “She’s been eagerly anticipating it since it was arranged.”

You couldn’t suppress a weary roll of your eyes and a scoff that escaped your lips. The unspoken truth about your mother’s unyielding determination was well-known to anyone who had crossed her path. “I can imagine.”

He paused, allowing the silence to stretch between you before continuing with a reflective tone. “It’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know. Take your mother and me as a prime example—our parents arranged our first date, with all the supervision that implies.”

A flicker of curiosity prompted you to ask, “And were you happy about it back then?”

A warm, nostalgic chuckle escaped him, and his eyes seemed to drift back through the corridors of time. “Oh, not at all. I cherished my freedom as a single man with great fervor. Yet, I grew to be immensely grateful to my parents once I met your mother. She’s the reason I look forward to each new day.”

Your father’s unwavering devotion to your mother was a daily reminder of their profound bond. His love for her was ever-present, expressed in countless small gestures and heartfelt words. Their enduring love was a beacon, a once-in-a-lifetime romance that left you both in awe and a bit wistful. The idea of finding such a rare and beautiful connection felt like a distant dream, a cherished possibility that seemed almost beyond reach.

Their love story had been woven into the fabric of your childhood, recounted so often it had become a cherished refrain. While you held its every detail close to your heart, there were times you longed for a change of topic. “How’s Siwoo? The last I heard, his wife had welcomed a new baby a few months ago.” It was a humble attempt to shift the conversation, but it proved effective.

A contented sigh escaped your father’s lips, his eyes shimmering with paternal pride. “Ah, he’s thriving, from all accounts. It seems to be the only subject your mother is keen to discuss, aside from your own growing success.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you. It wasn’t surprising that Siwoo, with his naturally gentle and nurturing spirit, was flourishing as a father. It brought you immense joy to see him building a loving family, his partner described as his equal, creating a life together that seemed as perfect as it was fulfilling.

A moment of silence lingered between you, each lost in thought. “How’s work?” he eventually inquired.

“It’s hectic,” you sighed, the weariness evident in your voice. “I don’t get nearly as much rest as I need given my condition, but there’s a profound satisfaction in sharing my work as I do.”

You noticed the delicate way he sidestepped the mention of your condition, his gaze steady and sincere as he said, “I can’t express how happy it makes me to see your dreams come true.”

Though his words were meant to be a balm for your spirit, a pang of unspoken longing lingered within you. The ache wasn’t from a lack of his affection, but from the quiet yearning for your parents to fully grasp the weight of your daily battles. It mattered little that the doctors they consulted had dismissed your pain as inconsequential; the sting of their disbelief and the chasm it had created between you and them was deep and enduring. You doubted that sharing your diagnosis would bridge that gap, so you chose silence instead, letting the quiet sorrow settle over you like a heavy mist.

You arrived at the charming café nestled around the corner well before the agreed-upon time, eager to claim a quiet corner for your date. The delicate warmth of the summer evening contrasted with the crisp chill of the café's interior, where you sought solace. Your recent struggles with mobility made the prospect of remaining seated in one spot particularly appealing, and you aimed to make the evening as comfortable as possible. You carefully selected a secluded table in a cozy nook, shielded from prying eyes by a curtain of softly glowing fairy lights, craving the intimacy of privacy.

Settling into your seat, you gazed around the café, letting your curiosity about your date’s identity swirl through your thoughts. The idea of meeting another idol sparked a flicker of intrigue, despite your condition limiting your social interactions. You mentally cycled through a list of Korean celebrities you knew or had encountered in the past, only to realize how brief it was—an echo of your increasingly reclusive lifestyle.

As the minutes slipped by, the café’s atmosphere hummed with a gentle blend of murmured conversations and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Finally, a waiter approached, accompanied by a young man whose presence was unmistakably magnetic. Han Jisung from Stray Kids. Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, recognizing him from various awards shows. His shy smile, revealed only after he removed his mask, was a charming contrast to his already striking appearance.

“Hello,” you greeted softly, your smile a beacon of warmth and friendliness.

Jisung’s eyes widened with a touch of surprise, and he returned your smile with genuine warmth. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

“You look really nice,” you replied, striving to dispel the tension with a sincere compliment.

His cheeks flushed a delicate pink. “Thank you. You look beautiful,” he responded, his voice soft and earnest.

Despite your polite exchanges, the conversation struggled to gain momentum, quickly falling into an awkward silence. You both made several attempts at small talk throughout the evening, but the words stumbled, failing to bridge the gap of unfamiliarity. The discomfort from the café’s rigid seats amplified your back pain, making it difficult for you to muster any flirty or charming banter. Your attempt to ask about Stray Kids’ latest album emerged as a hurried, awkward query that felt more suited to a scripted interview.

As the evening stretched on, the pain in your back became increasingly unbearable. You decided it was time to leave. With a sense of reluctance, you informed Jisung of your departure, noticing the disappointment that flickered across his face. He rose from his seat, an unspoken offer of support lingering in his stance. Although his presence was a reminder of your need for assistance, you were grateful for his kindness.

Outside, your driver waited, the car pulling up smoothly as soon as he saw you approach. You turned back to Jisung, offering a final, heartfelt smile. “It was wonderful meeting you,” you said, your voice tinged with genuine appreciation before you climbed into the car, which whisked you away into the night.

As soon as you disappeared from view, the same attentive waiter who had been serving them all evening hurried after you, clutching your collapsible cane. He handed it to Jisung, who looked at the cane with a puzzled expression.

Jisung’s brow furrowed in confusion as he examined the cane. He pulled out his phone, his mind racing with thoughts on how to return the forgotten item to you. He sent a quick text to his mother, seeking her advice on how to get in touch with you to ensure the cane found its way back into your hands.

posted: 07 • 23 • 2024

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Series taglist: @jisunglyricist @mitchii @skzstan12345 (Comment down below to be added!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

【 WWW.MINHOSBITTERRIVER.COM/ENHYPEN 】

💭 GUIDELINES ‣ LIBRARY ‣ TAGLIST & ANONS ‣ REQUEST LIST ‣ PINNED ‣ TIP JAR

📨 REQUESTS ARE CLOSED 📨 WORK COUNT: OO4 📨

NO SMUT FOR: Ni-ki & Jungwon SUGGESTIVE OKAY FOR: Jungwon

엔하이픈 ── OT7. ( enhypen )

⭐️─────MADE FOR LOVING YOU | 8.8K — HEADCANONS | in which you’re the idol who somehow snatched the members of enhypen’s heart at first sight. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

🍷─────LOOK UP TO YOU | 12.8K — HEADCANONS | in which you’re the idol and they’re your fanboys. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

🍷─────JEALOUS TIDES | 4.8K — HEADCANONS | these stories explore the subtle interplay of love, jealousy, and intimacy, capturing moments of tender connection and emotional depth between partners. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG. ( heeseung )

nothing yet, come back later!

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG. ( jay )

nothing yet, come back later!

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN. ( jake )

nothing yet, come back later!

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON. ( sunghoon )

🍷─────I FOUND A LOVE FOR ME | 1.4K — ONE-SHOT | in which sunghoon plans a little birthday celebration for you, whom he adores with his entire being. (FEMALE READER)

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO. ( sunoo )

nothing yet, come back later!

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON. ( jungwon )

nothing yet, come back later!

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI. ( ni-ki )

nothing yet, come back later!

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

© MINHOSBITTERRIVER | do not plagiarize, repost or translate my works on this platform or any others.