Thank You For Tagging Me Merin !

🏵️ BEAUTIFUL MESS. ( xdinary heroes )

❛ After winning a bet against you, Jiseok decides that he would be the dominant one for a change...though that doesn't last long.

𝐤𝐰𝐚𝐤 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ) 4.2k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Another amazing request made by the wonderful 🍀 Anon! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, Gaon gets pegged, he's also a brat that crumbles quickly, smut, Reader uses strap, overstimulation as punishment, let me know if I missed anything!

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

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

Jiseok’s intoxicating moan permeated the room, a symphony of desire that hung in the air like a heavy, sweet perfume. His body moved with an almost languid grace as he settled fully onto your lap, the weight of him grounding you in the moment. His head tipped back, exposing the elegant curve of his throat, while his lips parted in a silent cry of pleasure, capturing the very essence of his rapture.

For a heartbeat, he remained perfectly still, his body tense as he adjusted to the sensation of your strap. The room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of his breath, each exhale a testament to the intensity of the moment. The heat between you was palpable, a magnetic force drawing you closer.

Your hand moved with purpose, fingers curling around his cheeks with a commanding yet tender touch. The pads of your fingers pressed gently but firmly into his skin, guiding his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, dark and glazed with lust, locked onto yours, creating an electric connection that sent shivers down your spine. The dominance in your grip was undeniable, but it was tempered with a deep, unspoken affection, a silent promise of pleasure and trust.

Although he turned his gaze towards you as you desired, the playful glint in his eyes was a tantalizing reminder of the agreement you'd struck earlier. That sparkle of mischief was undeniable, a testament to the unspoken game that had woven itself into your intimate encounter.

His hand, warm and firm, wrapped around your wrist, pulling your touch away from his face. The loss of contact was a sharp contrast to the previous closeness, creating a sense of longing that deepened the intensity of the moment. His other hand moved with a similar purpose, capturing the ones resting on his hips and effortlessly locking them by the sides of your head.

A mean smile curled on Jiseok's lips, a blend of dominance and playful cruelty that sent a thrill through your veins. The power dynamic shifted as he asserted control, leaving you helplessly bound beneath him. The heat of his skin and the strength of his grip were both captivating and consuming.

With a slow, deliberate motion, Jiseok began to lift himself off your lap. His body arched gracefully, and another intoxicating moan escaped his lips, a sound that reverberated through the room and settled deep within you. The deliberate pace of his movements was a torment, a slow burn of pleasure and anticipation that made every second feel like an eternity.

As he descended once more, the connection between you was electric, a fusion of bodies and desires that left you breathless. The sight of him above you, the feel of his hands pinning you down, and the sound of his moans created a sensory overload, a beautifully torturous experience that bound you together in a dance of passion and control.

Watching as he shamelessly used you for his own pleasure was a stark departure from your usual dynamic, a reversal that sent a thrill of unfamiliar excitement through you. Typically, you held the reins, but now, with Jiseok in control, you found yourself on the precipice of a new and tantalizing experience. There was a fleeting moment where you almost wished you’d won the bet, to reclaim that familiar dominance, but the allure of this role reversal was undeniable.

The way his own leaking length slapped against your stomach with each glide up and down your strap was a vivid, tantalizing sensation. Each movement sent ripples of heat coursing through you, a physical manifestation of his pleasure and a reminder of your current submission. His every action, every deliberate thrust, elicited filthy, unrestrained sounds from his lips. Those moans, raw and primal, traveled down to your very core, igniting a fire that burned with intensity.

Jiseok was utterly mesmerizing. His body, a study in fluid grace and raw desire, moved with a rhythm that was both hypnotic and intoxicating. The interplay of power and vulnerability in his eyes, the way they flickered between control and surrender, held you captive. His pleasure was palpable, a living thing that enveloped you both, drawing you deeper into the moment.

The intensity of the situation was heightened by the contrast to your usual roles. The sight of him lost in ecstasy, taking what he needed from you with such shameless abandon, was a heady mix of power and submission that blurred the lines of dominance and desire. Each glide, each slap, each moan was a symphony of sensations that wove together into an exquisite tapestry of pleasure and connection.

In this moment, Jiseok was not just using you; he was unveiling a new facet of your relationship, one that was as captivating as it was unexpected. The raw honesty of his desire, the unguarded vulnerability of his pleasure, created a space where you both could explore the depths of your connection in a way that was beautifully, intoxicatingly real.

Jiseok's pace quickened, driven by an increasing neediness that was palpable in every movement. His lewd moans and groans filled the air, a symphony of raw desire that echoed around the room, amplifying the intensity of the moment. The sound of his pleasure intertwined with the rhythmic slap of his body against yours, creating an intoxicating soundtrack to your shared passion.

As his need grew, Jiseok's hands released your wrists, leaving behind the ghost of his touch. His fingers, now free, moved with an eager purpose, reaching up to grasp your breasts. The sudden shift sent a shiver down your spine, your body responding to the unexpected contact. The weight and warmth of his hands on your skin, the way they molded to the curve of your breasts, was a heady sensation that added another layer to your shared ecstasy.

Your breasts bounced in time with the rhythm he set, each movement a visual testament to the intensity of your connection. His hands, once gentle, became more assertive, groping and squeezing with a fervent hunger. The pressure of his touch, the way his fingers moved against your flesh, was an exquisite blend of pleasure and pain.

An unexpected moan tore from your lips, raw and unfiltered. The sound seemed to ignite something within Jiseok, a spark that fanned the flames of his desire. His eyes, dark with lust, gleamed with satisfaction as he heard your response. His fingers found your nipples, pinching them with expert precision, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Each pinch, each twist, was a calculated move designed to elicit the sounds he craved from you.

Jiseok's actions were a dance of dominance and desire, a carefully choreographed performance that left you breathless and yearning for more. His hands, his touch, the way he moved—everything was a testament to his understanding of your body and the pleasure it could bring. The room pulsed with the heat of your shared passion, a heady mix of power and vulnerability that left you both on the edge of ecstasy.

“Fuck,” Jiseok panted, his voice a hoarse whisper as his eyes remained glued to your breasts, bouncing rhythmically with his every movement. His gaze was fervent, filled with a raw, unrestrained hunger as he chased his own high. “You’re so gorgeous like this,” he breathed out, the words drenched in genuine admiration and lust.

The moment his declaration reached your ears, you felt one of his hands abandon its grip on your breast, the loss of contact momentarily jarring. His fingers trailed a burning path up your torso, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before wrapping firmly around your neck. The pressure was calculated, just enough to squeeze in a way that was both erotic and thrilling. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and another moan, raw and unbidden, escaped your lips.

The sound you made seemed to resonate deeply within Jiseok, fueling the fire of his desire. His eyes, dark with intensity, widened as he took in the sight of you beneath him, your reactions heightening his own arousal. The eroticism of the moment was almost too much for him to bear; his breaths came faster, each one a ragged gasp, and his moans grew louder, filling the room with a symphony of lust.

His pace quickened, the urgency of his movements mirroring the escalation of his need. Every thrust, every squeeze of his hand around your neck, was a testament to the powerful connection you shared. The way he moved, the way he sounded, it was all a beautiful, chaotic dance of desire and dominance.

Jiseok's body tensed as he drew closer to his peak, his sounds becoming a harmonious blend of desperation and ecstasy. The sight of you, the feel of you, the sounds you made—it was all an intoxicating mix that drove him to the brink. His grip tightened slightly, just enough to send another wave of pleasure through you, his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce intensity.

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only Jiseok, his need, his desire, and the incredible, electrifying connection between you. The way he looked at you, the way he moved with you, it was all a testament to the depth of your shared passion, a beautifully detailed tableau of pleasure and intimacy.

“Yeah?” you grunted, your voice a mix of challenge and desire. Deciding to take control for a moment, you bucked your hips upwards, meeting his pace with a deliberate force that sent a shockwave of pleasure through both of you. The sudden movement elicited a sharp gasp from Jiseok, his eyes widening as he seemed to teeter right on the edge of his climax.

Your actions spurred him on, pushing him closer to that precipice of ecstasy. His breath came in short, ragged bursts, each exhale a testament to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his body. The intensity of your connection was almost palpable, a physical force that bound you together in this intimate dance.

“You love it when you use me, huh?” you taunted, your voice dripping with a provocative mix of mockery and allure. The words seemed to resonate deeply with Jiseok, his expression shifting to one of pure, unrestrained need. The provocative edge in your voice only served to heighten his arousal, pushing him further towards the brink.

“Shameless boy,” you added, your tone a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. The term of endearment, laced with playful reproach, hung in the air between you, adding another layer to the intricate tapestry of your shared pleasure. 

Jiseok's response was visceral, a guttural moan that tore from his throat as he bucked against you with renewed fervor. His eyes, dark with lust, locked onto yours, the connection between you deepening with every passing second. The way he moved, the way he responded to your taunts, was a testament to the powerful dynamic you both shared.

In this moment, the roles of dominance and submission blurred, creating a beautifully intricate dance of power and pleasure. The heat of your bodies, the intensity of your gazes, and the raw honesty of your words all combined to create a moment of unparalleled intimacy. Jiseok’s vulnerability and shameless need, matched by your confident control, wove together to form a scene of exquisite passion that neither of you would soon forget.

Taking advantage of Jiseok's dazed state, his focus solely on his own pleasure, you slid your hand between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his leaking, sensitive length. The heat and pulsing hardness of him filled your palm, and his immediate reaction was a sharp yelp at the unexpected contact. The sound was almost sweet in its vulnerability, a stark contrast to the mischief that had previously clouded his eyes.

In that instant, the playful defiance in his gaze was replaced by a silent, desperate pleading. His eyes, wide and dark with need, locked onto yours with an intensity that made you smirk. The power shift was palpable, his bravado crumbling as his desire took over. He was so, so close to finishing—that much was obvious from the way his length twitched and pulsed in your hand, his body betraying his imminent release.

Despite his earlier bratty behavior, you decided to grant him what he so clearly craved, though not without a touch of your own mischief. With a deliberate slowness, you began to stroke him, matching the rhythm he had set for himself. Your movements were precise, calculated, designed to drive him wild with need. The contrast of your cool control against his desperate urgency created a delicious tension that heightened the intensity of the moment.

Your fingers moved expertly, each stroke sending shivers down his spine, his hips bucking instinctively in response. The feeling of his hot, slick length in your hand, combined with the sight of his face contorted in pleasure, was intoxicating. Every gasp, every shudder, was a testament to the exquisite torture you were inflicting upon him.

As you continued, his breathing grew ragged, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. The silent begging in his eyes deepened, his lips parting in a wordless plea for release. Your smirk widened, savoring the power you held over him in that moment. The combination of his need and your control created a heady, electric atmosphere that thrummed with shared desire.

With each stroke, you brought him closer to the edge, his moans growing louder, more desperate. The friction, the pace, the sheer intimacy of your touch was pushing him to his limits. The sight of him, so undone and vulnerable, was a beautiful contrast to his earlier defiance. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a beautifully orchestrated performance that left you both breathless and yearning for more.

As he teetered on the brink, his eyes begged for mercy, for release. And in that moment, you knew you had him completely, utterly at your mercy. The power was intoxicating, the control exhilarating, and the pleasure, both his and yours, was a symphony of sensation that filled the room with a palpable, electrifying energy.

Jiseok's face nuzzled into your neck, his moans loud and unabashed as he sought the comfort of your closeness. The intensity of his orgasm wracked his body, sending shudders of pleasure through him as ropes of his release stained both his stomach and yours. The heat and wetness of it created an intimate connection, a tangible reminder of the pleasure you'd just shared.

As the last tremors of his climax coursed through him, you took advantage of his dazed state, swiftly shifting your bodies so you were on top of him. The transition was seamless, a fluid motion that left him momentarily disoriented. His eyes fluttered open, confusion and surprise mingling in their depths as he processed the change in position.

His bewilderment deepened when he realized you were still buried to the hilt inside of him. The sensation of fullness, combined with the unexpected shift in dominance, sent another wave of pleasure through his already sensitized body. You couldn't help but chuckle meanly, the sound a dark, tantalizing promise of what was to come.

With deliberate slowness, you began to withdraw, watching the emotions play across his face. The startled moan that tore from his lips was music to your ears, a symphony of need and surprise that only fueled your own desire. His eyes widened, a mixture of shock and anticipation as he felt you pull out almost completely.

Then, without warning, you snapped your hips back into him, the sudden, powerful thrust drawing another moan from deep within his chest. The sensation was overwhelming, the intensity of your movement sending sparks of pleasure shooting through both of you. Each snap of your hips was a calculated strike, designed to elicit the most exquisite responses from him.

Jiseok's body responded instinctively, his back arching, his fingers clutching at the sheets as he tried to ground himself against the onslaught of sensations. His moans grew louder, more desperate, filling the room with the raw, unfiltered sounds of his pleasure. The way he writhed beneath you, the way his body reacted to every thrust, was mesmerizing.

You reveled in the control, the power you held over him in that moment. Each movement, each sound, was a testament to the depth of your connection, a beautifully orchestrated dance of dominance and submission. The pleasure was all-encompassing, a heady mix of physical sensation and emotional intensity that left you both breathless.

“Wait, wait!” Jiseok panted, his eyes wide with a mix of desperation and lingering sensitivity. “I’m still so sensitive, please!” Despite his pleas, his nails dug deliciously into the skin of your hips, urging you to stay inside him each time you attempted to pull away. The contradiction between his words and actions was intoxicating, a testament to the depths of his desire.

“Aw, is my shameless boy still sensitive?” you cooed, your tone laced with feigned sympathy as you pouted. The mockery in your voice was deliberate, a playful taunt that only heightened the intensity of the moment. Without hesitation, you picked up your pace, your movements becoming more deliberate and powerful. Jiseok responded by burying his head deeper into the pillows beneath him, his body trembling with unrestrained pleasure.

The sight of his exposed neck, so vulnerable and inviting, was too tempting to resist. You leaned in, attaching your tongue and lips to his skin, leaving a messy trail of kisses and licks that he loved. The wet, heated contact sent shivers down his spine, adding another layer to the sensory overload he was experiencing. His moans grew louder, each sound a symphony of pleasure that resonated through the room.

As you continued to thrust into him, you reached down, grabbing ahold of one of his hands. Guiding it with a firm yet gentle touch, you directed it towards his own sensitive core. The look in your eyes was stern, a silent command that left no room for disobedience. “Touch yourself,” you ordered, your voice low and authoritative. “And don’t you dare stop until I’m done with you.”

The combination of your firm grip, the intensity of your gaze, and the raw power of your words sent a thrill through Jiseok. His eyes widened even further, a mix of surprise and arousal evident in their depths. Obediently, he wrapped his hand around his own length, his touch tentative at first, then growing more confident as he began to stroke himself in time with your thrusts.

The added stimulation pushed him closer to the edge, his moans becoming more desperate, more pleading. Every movement, every sound, was a testament to the exquisite torture you were inflicting upon him. His body was a canvas, and you were the artist, painting a masterpiece of pleasure and submission.

Your lips never left his neck, the wet, messy kisses a constant reminder of your presence and control. Each thrust, each command, each touch, was a deliberate act of dominance, designed to bring him to the brink and keep him there, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The power you held over him was intoxicating, a heady mix of control and desire that left you both breathless.

As Jiseok’s strokes grew more frantic, his body trembling with the effort to maintain control, you could see the raw need in his eyes. The sight of him, so vulnerable and desperate, was a beautiful contrast to his usual bravado. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered connection, a dance of power and submission that left you both craving more.

Though Jiseok was rendered speechless, his response was visceral. He nodded vigorously, his movements driven by instinct rather than thought. His eyes fluttered shut, rolling back into his head as waves of pleasure overwhelmed him. His mouth, parted in a breathless gasp, emitted a continuous stream of erotic sounds—moans, whimpers, and gasps—that filled the air with a symphony of raw desire.

The pace you had set was relentless, each thrust precise and unyielding. The rhythm of your movements was a powerful force, pushing him closer to the edge with every stroke. His body responded instinctively, bouncing beneath you with each snap of your hips, the force of your actions leaving him helplessly at your mercy.

You could see the culmination of his orgasm approaching, a visible wave of pleasure that crested before he even had the chance to fully experience it. His entire body trembled with the intensity of his release, the tension and ecstasy etched across his features as his senses were inundated with the overwhelming pleasure you had orchestrated.

Despite the overwhelming sight of his climax, you did not relent. The snap of your hips continued with unyielding precision, maintaining the rhythm that kept him on the precipice of his ecstasy. The relentless force of your movements only added to the intensity, ensuring that he was swept up in the powerful, unending wave of sensation.

As Jiseok's body was rocked by the force of your thrusts, the combination of his vocal responses and the visual impact of his pleasure created a scene of exquisite, almost violent intimacy. Each thrust, each push, was a testament to the power you held, a beautifully detailed expression of control and desire that left you both breathless and craving more.

Jiseok’s whines began to rise in pitch, the sound a desperate plea for respite as you continued, relentless, after his second orgasm. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears, a telltale sign of the overstimulation that left him vulnerable and overwhelmed. Despite his evident distress, he didn’t dare disobey; his hands, trembling with the effort, shakily tried to keep pace with the rhythm you set. Each quiver of his fingers was a testament to his surrender, an acknowledgment of your absolute control.

You kept your gaze fixed on his face, savoring the exquisite display of his unraveling. His expression was a mix of helplessness and desperate need, a beautiful contrast to the confident persona he usually projected. The sight of him so utterly undone beneath you was intoxicating, his whimpers and pleas a perfect accompaniment to the raw pleasure you were inflicting.

It wasn’t long before a third orgasm tore through him with a surprising ferocity, more intense and aggressive than the first two. The force of it was almost overwhelming, a powerful wave that left him trembling and gasping. This time, you allowed yourself to slow your pace, guiding him through the tumultuous waves of his climax with a deliberate, measured rhythm. Each thrust was calculated, designed to prolong his pleasure and deepen the intensity of his release.

As his body continued to writhe beneath you, the rhythmic pulse of his orgasm gradually subsided. His movements became more frantic, a clear sign of his need for relief. You watched with a mix of satisfaction and possessive delight as he squirmed, finally wriggling under you in a final, desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensations. With one last, deliberate thrust, you brought the relentless rhythm to a halt, your body coming to rest against his.

The room was filled with the echoes of his pleasure, the air thick with the remnants of his intense release. You took a moment to bask in the aftermath, your control and dominance etched into every breath he took. The scene before you was a testament to the exquisite power of your connection, a beautifully detailed tableau of desire and submission that left both of you breathless and spent.

He lay before you, a beautiful mess of flushed skin and disheveled abandon. His cheeks and ears were painted a deep crimson, a vivid contrast to the pale expanse of his neck and shoulders. His pink lips were parted, still gasping for breath as he struggled to regain his composure. The sight of him, so utterly spent and vulnerable, was a portrait of exquisite pleasure and surrender.

Yet, it was the adoration in his eyes that captivated you the most. Despite the chaos of the moment, his gaze remained steady, a soft, glowing warmth radiating from his eyes as they followed your every move. It was a look of profound devotion, a silent testament to the connection you shared. The sight was both endearing and electrifying, a stark contrast to the wild, urgent sounds that had filled the air moments before.

"You’re so good to me," he murmured, his voice a tender whisper against the lingering echoes of his earlier cries. The contrast between his previous loud moans and the soft, heartfelt admission was striking, adding a layer of intimacy to the moment. His words were a balm to your own exhaustion, a reminder of the depth of the bond you both shared.

A chuckle, full of affection and warmth, escaped your lips as you absorbed the sweetness of his confession. With a gentle, almost reverent touch, you leaned down, your movements slow and deliberate. You pressed your lips against his forehead, a soft, lingering kiss that spoke of comfort and reassurance. Moving to his nose, you placed another kiss, this one lighter and more playful, before finally capturing his lips in a tender, lingering embrace.

The kiss was a silent promise, a wordless declaration of your feelings as you melted into the intimacy of the moment. The softness of his lips against yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, created a cocoon of affection that wrapped around both of you. In that shared space, amidst the aftermath of passion and pleasure, you found a quiet, beautiful connection that transcended words and left you both basking in the gentle glow of your shared intimacy.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ 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!

hi hi !! ^-^

so my idea for the game isnt too extensive, but i think you would totally nail it, so: enemies to lovers with fashion designer!reader x model!hyunjin👀 him being cocky and overly confident and the reader being a bit too serious and mature, just imagine the tension between them at every single rehearsal and backstage every show...

anyway, im not sure if this is something you’d write but with your style of writing i think this could come out really cool >.< let me know what you think !!

sending lots of love, take care !!<3

Merin, your mind is so beautiful because !!! the potential this idea has??? I am 100000% adding this to my WIP list and will be posting as soon as I have it done. This would also be so cute too because you mentioned the reader being a little too serious and mature MEANWHILE the last 2 Kids’ Show (Hyunjin & Changbin) they really went into how Hyunjin is anything BUT serious and how he does what he wants when he feels like it, and how he’s easily bored. I can just imagine the reader being SO frustrated with him. It’s lowkey giving enemies to lovers too and I’m so here for it. I’m happy I read this right before setting my stuff on airplane mode for the next 13 hours because now (hopefully) I have the time to really sit down and write as much as I’ve been wanting to. Again, THANK YOU💕

ain’t no fucking way i start dying of a cold the night before my 21st birthday what the hell

can i request a fwb with hyunjin x male reader? love your stuff 💕💕💕

Hey babe! Your request has been posted! Thank you so much for the support, it was so fun to write! Also, a little side-note: this piece contains agoraphilia, which was not a part of the initial request, but I hope you don't mind it! If you do, please feel free to send me another request and I'll try again! ── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

🍿 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 🍿

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 3.2k

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🍷 i found a love for me 𓂅 ໋⋅

‧₊° pairing: sunghoon x female reader

‧₊° warnings: suggestive comment if you squint

‧₊° rating: 13+

‧₊° summary: in which sunghoon plans a little birthday celebration for you, whom he adores with his entire being.

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The sound of your keys jingling reached Sunghoon’s ears, triggering a series of panicked motions as he finished the final details of your birthday gift before he was caught. He quickly slipped onto the balcony, ensuring that the curtains were closed so that nothing was spoiled as his ears perked up at the sound of your bag being dumped onto the kitchen counter with an exhausted sigh.

“Hoonie?” He could hear you walk around the apartment in search of him, but remained as still and silent as he could. It was only a matter of time before you would walk into your shared bedroom and find the red dress he’d bought for you, surrounded by matching red rose petals scattered all over the room along with some balloons. “Oh—!”

Bingo, he smirked. Sunghoon wished he would have seen your reaction, but this would have to do for now. His patience grew thin as he waited for you to change into the silk material, though he should’ve expected to hear the shower turn on as soon as you realized he had something planned for you on your special day. He huffed half-heartedly as he plopped down onto one of the balcony chairs.

The starry night was chilly, though the heater he’d plugged in certainly helped keep the aesthetics intact. It was a small balcony, though nearly covered in plants and flowers you enjoyed caring for during your free time. There were lit candles on every available surface along with tiny fairy lights lining the ceiling which provided a romantic atmosphere when combined with the gorgeous view of the tranquil city. Dinner was also served, cooked by yours truly with the help of Jay (who quite frankly did most, if not all of the work). Finally, he’d brought a small radio that was connected to his phone via Bluetooth for when you arrived. He even went as far as to buy himself a really nice suit along with a button-up shirt to match your dress. This was a night Sunghoon had been planning for a little over a week now, so to say he was excited to spend this night with you would be a grave understatement.

At the mark of the hour, his phone rang — loudly — as your name flashed across the screen. He let it ring so that you may find your way to him easily, which didn’t take you long as you pulled the curtains apart and gasped at the sight.

Sunghoon had remained seated, though he had fixed his posture a bit for you, and an adoring smile adorned his lips while his eyes twinkled. He seemed to take a moment to take in the beauty that was you in the dress he’d gifted you, proud that it fit just like he’d imagined it would. He stood, towering over you as he opened his arms to pull you into him.

“Happy birthday, my rose.”

“Oh, Hoonie,” you gushed. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me, thank you.”

He smiled pridefully. “I know I didn’t, but I think you deserve all of this and more— it’s your day, after all.”

Despite the heels, you stood on your tip-toes for a loving peck, hands on his chest to steady yourself along with his hands holding your elbows gently.

“It’s beautiful, all of it.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He smiled, then signaled for you to take the same seat he’d occupied a moment prior and you happily obliged. “I made us some dinner.”

“By yourself?” You teased, dramatically raising an eyebrow. Sunghoon repeated your question in a nasal voice, rolling his eyes with a chuckle as you giggled.

“If you must know, Jay came over earlier to help me.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “I’ll thank him later, then.”

Sunghoon laughed sarcastically as he walked inside to bring out the food he’d prepared with his friend, placing everything on a beautiful silver tray that would soon rest on the small table between the two chairs. A bottle of wine was tucked into a small bucket filled halfway with ice to keep it cold. He decided to bring out the food first, smiling at your wide eyes and open mouth at the sight and scent of it all. Before joining you, though, he rushed back inside for the wine and the two empty glasses.

“You’ve really gone above and beyond, baby, it’s all so beautiful!”

You watched as your boyfriend popped the bottle of wine open, serving a decent amount for the two of you and you couldn’t help but feel almost dizzy with the amount of butterflies storming in your stomach. He was far too good for you, though this wasn’t new information.

Music began playing softly in the background before Sunghoon joined you as you consumed his thoughtful meal contentedly, practically having you melting with each bite. Small talk ensued in between mouthfuls as he told you about his morning at work, and you also shared with him about how your coworkers had sung to you during your lunch break — something Sunghoon knew made you deeply uncomfortable, but you were touched they’d remembered at all.

“Save space for desert, by the way,” warned Sunghoon as he set down his own plate. There was a good amount of leftovers, which he’d intended so you could have lunch to bring to work tomorrow.

“Desert too? You know I wouldn’t be able to resist even if I explode!”

He laughed at that. “I’m well aware, but you don’t think the night will end with just that now, do you?”

“Oh—!”

Sunghoon collected the silver tray and rushed inside before you could respond to that, ears burning. Instead of dwelling on the plans that involved you and your shared bed which was covered in balloons and rose petals, he focused on retrieving your custom-ordered birthday cake. A red heart to match tonight’s theme, chocolate flavored since it was your favorite. On the top was written: I will always love you, in white, cursive font. It came out perfect, and once again Sunghoon found himself giddy to see your reaction. Before he brought it out to you, though, he added a gold candle on the left side of the cake and lit it up.

Your heart skipped a beat as Sunghoon returned to you, a beautiful cake in one hand while the other protected the small candle’s flame. His melodious voice caressed your ears as he sang the birthday song to you, and although you disliked it when it was in front of a group of people, having him do it with only the stars as your witness made you fall in love all over again. The song ended too soon as he placed the cake on the table where the silver tray once rested.

“Make a wish,” he encouraged with the softest smile you’ve ever witnessed on him.

A beat barely passed before you blew the golden candle out with a large grin.

“Did you wish for something? That was fast.”

“I did, don’t worry.”

He hummed happily. “What did you wish for?”

“Hoonie, you’re not supposed to say!” You pouted cutely before standing up before him, kicking your heels off and extending your hand over to him. He hesitated for only a brief second before he followed your actions in slight confusion. “I just wished to be able to dance with you, right now.”

“You’ve just ruined the wish, though.” A light slap on the arm caused a low laugh to burst, and you couldn’t help but follow along as you waited for him to get into position. His laugh died down as his gaze met yours, watching you as though you had been the one to put all the stars in the sky yourself and if you were given the chance to do it, you would, if only to have him look at you like that forever.

The hand that wasn’t holding yours snaked around your waist, pulling you close enough for you to lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat combined with the soft music playing in the background. The two of you swayed to the beat of an English song you adored.

I found a love for me

Darling, just dive right in, and follow my lead

Well, I found a girl, beautiful and sweet

“I love you.” Sunghoon’s voice was almost inaudible, you nearly missed it. You turned your head so that your chin rested on his chest, looking up at him with eyes you hoped would convey the intensity of your feelings for him, and by the way he smiled at you, he seemed to know.

word count: 1.4k 🍷 posted: 12 • 17 • 2023

💬 a note from green;

four days until my birthday 🎂

⨳ ko-fi ⨳

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

well, today in particular i just saw that you were responding to me rather quickly, and i didn’t want to be rude and leave you hanging, so i’ve been constantly checking. also it’s daytime for me right now so i’m not like getting up in the middle of the night or anything.

also like i’ve said i enjoy chatting with you!! sorry if that’s weird😭

- 🍀

Wait! I promise it’s not rude at all to leave me waiting 😭 Especially because I know you’re in a busy time in your life right now, and besides I know other people have stuff to do. Please don’t feel like you have to answer immediately but I’m also glad that it’s not the middle of the night where you are, so I feel a little less guilty LMAO It’s literally like 3AM here but I don’t ever sleep apparently

And it’s not weird at all, the feeling is very much mutual okay 😭 I’m just happy you think the same way 🫶

SIDE NOTE: So I have a separate Docs where I write down a more detailed list of requests I have and where I also just messily jot down my ideas for each of them, and I was copying your newer requests there just now and I realized that in your threesome request you mentioned someone having an oral fixation? But I’m not sure who you meant, O.de or Junhan? LOL I’m sorry if I just completely missed it, but I wanted to make sure!

hello, are requests still open? if so could i request how enhypen would be like as fanboys for idol reader? and if they somehow got noticed by reader like during a concert, fansign, etc

or is this request too similar to your recent enha x idol reader fic? (which was amazing btw!) if it is, i can send in a different one!

Hi! Yes, requests are still open! Please don’t ask me how the hell this one managed to reach 12.8K words — I honestly have no idea. I was just writing, minding my own business and then when I was finished I checked the word count and literally shocked myself, so sorry about that! I still hope you enjoy it!

I kinda had to take out the romance and leave it as Enhypen being the reader’s adorably dorky fanboys instead because otherwise it would’ve been a bit too similar to the request you were talking about, and anyway I felt like this version represented our experience as a fandom a lot better. BUT if you want something that's a bit more romantic and more well thought-out, you can pick a specific member of Enhypen to be the fanboy and I can delve a bit deeper into the whole Fanboy x Idol trope (please do, I have so many ideas but don't know which member to pick).

Also, thank you for enjoying my first Enhypen request, MADE FOR LOVING YOU! I’m still somewhat a bit of a baby Engene (I've really been following them on-and-off for about a year though they've consistently had me on a chokehold for the past few months) so I was nervous I wouldn’t be able to capture them well. You can request all you like, by the way! ── ( 𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 )

💻 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 💻

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 12.8k

Mis padres son de la ciudad de México pero yo nací y crecí aquí en los Estados Unidos. y también elegí verde como nombre porque es mi color favorito y mi lógica era que si a la gente se le puede llamar "Azul, Blanca, Red, Jade" ¿por qué no me pueden llamar Green? ja ja

ahh que brutal! yo voy a la uni por allá en los estados unidos pero en las vacaciones tengo que regresar a pr ;-;

also:

tu lógica es inmaculada, tienes toda la razón jajajaja ay no sé es que tengo una conexión con el verde desde siempre, mi vida entera está pinta’o de verde y pues 🤷

I’m so, so glad you enjoyed it! Feel free to request again! 🫶

──── * ˚ ✦ THE LAST STRAW ( stray kids )

❛ After a final argument with your toxic, manipulative mother over your irresponsible younger brother, you decide to cut ties with your family, only to be overwhelmed by doubt and panic until your supportive boyfriend, Felix, reassures you that choosing yourself was the right decision.

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 14 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Here's a wonderful request made by @lixies-favorite-cookie! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Non-Idol AU, emotional abuse, family conflict, mommy issues, mental health struggles, parental neglect, parental favoritism, depression and self-worth issues, let me know if I missed anything!

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

The kitchen feels like a war zone, the air thick with unsaid accusations and the sharp remnants of long-festered wounds. Your mother stands at the sink, her back rigid and unforgiving, hands submerged in soapy water as she scrubs a dish with a ferocity that speaks louder than words. Each stroke of her hand seems to scrape away at the silence, but instead of clarity, it only stirs the storm between you. You can almost see the tension rippling off her like waves of heat from a furnace, feeding the blaze that has been building in your chest, threatening to consume you.

“So, that’s it?” you ask, your voice taut, straining against the anger simmering just below the surface. “You’re really going to ignore everything I’ve said and expect me to drop everything—again—to drive him around?” There’s a tremor in your tone, a plea for acknowledgment masked by the bitterness of your words. But she doesn’t turn to face you. Instead, she sighs, a heavy, exaggerated breath that fills the room with disdain, as if you are the one being irrational, ungrateful.

“He doesn’t have anyone else,” she replies, her voice dripping with exasperation, as if you should already know this. “And it’s not like it’s a big deal—you’re already out and about. What’s a little detour to help your brother?”

Her words hit you like a slap across the face, stinging and familiar. “A little detour?” you echo, a disbelieving laugh slipping out, sharp and brittle. “Mom, I have a job. I have classes. I’m barely keeping up as it is. But sure, let’s add ‘chauffeur for the man-child’ to my list of responsibilities.”

At this, she finally turns, her face set in that hardened expression you know so well—eyes narrowed, lips pulled into a thin, unforgiving line. “Don’t talk about him like that,” she snaps, her voice a low warning. “He’s your brother. He’s just going through a rough time.”

A bitter, exhausted laugh escapes your lips, and you can feel the years of buried frustration rising up, threatening to overflow. "A rough time?" you repeat, your voice growing louder, each word carrying the weight of all the grievances you’ve kept bottled up for so long. “He’s been ‘going through a rough time’ for the last five years! And every single time he screws up, you’re right there, wiping his slate clean, making excuses for him. He never has to face the consequences of anything, and somehow, I’m always the one left to pick up the pieces!”

Your voice cracks, and the room seems to tremble with the force of your words. All the times you’ve been overlooked, all the sacrifices you’ve made without a second thought, all the nights spent wondering why you were never enough—everything comes crashing down in this moment. You stand there, breathless, waiting for something, anything, that resembles an acknowledgment of what you’ve endured.

But she doesn’t see it. She doesn’t hear it. She doesn’t even flinch. And that, more than anything, is what breaks you.

"That's not true," your mother snaps, her voice cutting through the air like the crack of a whip, cold and biting. "You don’t know what he’s going through. You’ve always been so hard on him, never understanding." Her words hang in the air, thick with accusation, and you feel a familiar frustration beginning to coil tightly in your chest.

You scoff, the sound escaping before you can stop it, disbelief etched across your face. "Understanding?" you fire back, voice laced with incredulity. "You mean like how you’re 'understanding' when he crashes his car because he was out partying, and you expect me to drop everything, put my entire life and future on hold, to make up for it? Or how you’re 'understanding' when he blows all his money on God knows what, and I’m the one who has to lend him my hard-earned cash so he can pay his rent? You’ve always been ‘understanding’ of him, but when have you ever been ‘understanding’ of me?"

For a moment, the room falls silent, heavy with the weight of everything that has been left unsaid for far too long. Your mother’s eyes flash dangerously, a mix of anger and frustration, a glare that once would have made you swallow your words, scramble to backtrack and apologize. But not today. Today, the exhaustion has settled too deeply in your bones, mingling with the anger that has simmered for years, bubbling to the surface.

"You think I don’t care about you?" she spits out, her voice rising, each word sharp and defensive. "I’ve done everything for you! You grew up with food on the table and a roof over your head. You have a job now, you’re in college, you have everything going for you. Do you think that just happened by itself?"

Her audacity stings, her self-righteousness fanning the flames inside you. Every vein feels like it’s on fire, adrenaline surging through your body. “No,” you say, voice trembling but strong, each word pushed out with a force that surprises even you. “Don’t you dare take credit for what little good I have in my life. Don’t you dare. Everything I have going for me is because I worked for it. I was the one who graduated as valedictorian in high school—not you, not him. I worked my ass off to get into college, scrapping for every scholarship I could find so I wouldn’t have to drown in debt later. I found my own place to live, found a job so I could pay my own bills, held myself together when everything around me was falling apart.”

Your words pour out like a flood, each one more bitter than the last. You can see her eyes narrowing, her lips tightening, but it only pushes you to keep going. “But you? Sure, you fed me, you put a roof over my head—like the law says you should. But you only ever noticed me when I was useful to him, when I made things easier for your golden child."

The silence that follows is deafening, filled with the echoes of things that have finally been said, the raw truth laid bare between you. The tension in the room is electric, the weight of years of imbalance, neglect, and misplaced loyalty pressing down on your shoulders. But for the first time, you feel something shift inside you—a spark of liberation, a sense that perhaps, just perhaps, you’ve finally stepped out of the shadow that has loomed over you for so long.

"You're being so selfish," she spits, her voice trembling with a barely controlled fury that makes the walls tremble. The dishes slip from her hands, clattering into the sink with a loud clank as she whirls around to face you. Her eyes are wild, nearly bulging out of her head, her face flushed with indignation. "You have no idea what it's like to be a parent, to have to make these kinds of decisions." The venom in her words seeps into the air, choking you with its bitterness.

But you don’t flinch. Your fists curl even tighter at your sides, nails digging into your palms as you stand your ground, locking eyes with her. "I'm selfish?" A bitter laugh escapes you, sharp and brittle, and you can feel the hot sting of unshed tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Do you even hear yourself? You've spent years bending over backwards to coddle him, to fix every single one of his messes. And every time, it's me who gets caught in the crossfire. It's always me who’s expected to be the 'responsible one.' And what do I get for it? Nothing. Not a thank you, not a 'good job,' not even a fraction of the support and understanding you so eagerly throw at him."

Your mother’s hand slams down on the counter with a thunderous bang, making you jump. Her face is a twisted mask of rage and frustration. "You've always had a chip on your shoulder about him," she sneers, her tone dripping with condescension, as if speaking to a petulant child. "Maybe if you weren't so jealous—"

"Don't even start." You cut her off, your voice cracking under the weight of everything you’ve kept bottled up for so long. "I'm not jealous, Mom. I'm tired. I'm tired of being the one who has to sacrifice everything while he coasts through life, knowing you’ll always be there to bail him out. I'm tired of you making me feel like I’m never enough, like I’m only here to clean up his messes and make things easier for him."

The air thickens, a suffocating silence falling between you. Your mother’s face hardens, her eyes narrowing into icy slits. "If you don't like it, then maybe you should just leave," she says, her words cutting through the tension like a knife. "You're an adult now, aren’t you? You can make your own choices."

Her words hang in the air, daring you to speak, to react. For a moment, you’re stunned, the breath catching in your throat. Then, softly, like a truth you've kept buried, you say, "Maybe I should." The words taste like freedom on your tongue, a release from years of guilt and fear. "Because I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep letting you use me to prop him up while you tear me down. I deserve better than this."

For a fleeting moment, something flickers in her eyes—something almost vulnerable, almost human. But it vanishes as quickly as it came, replaced by the same cold indifference that has always been there. "Fine. Do what you want," she says dismissively, her tone devoid of emotion. "But don’t come crying to me when you realize you can’t handle the world I’ve protected you from."

A humorless laugh bubbles up in your throat, but you swallow it down, taking a deep breath instead. You feel the weight of years of resentment, of pain and unspoken truths, settling into place. "I won't," you reply, voice steady as a stone. "Because I've been handling the world all my life. You never protected me from it—you only ever protected your golden child. And I’m done."

You turn away, leaving her standing there, leaving behind the suffocating grip of a mother who never truly saw you. You walk out of the kitchen, out of the house that never felt like a home, and with each step, the air feels a little lighter, the world outside a little more open. For the first time, you feel the distant, hopeful glimmer of something new—something that belongs to you, and you alone.

You sit in the driver’s seat, fingers clenched around the steering wheel with a grip so tight that your knuckles have turned ghostly white. Each breath you take is shallow and ragged, barely filling your lungs. Your heart hammers in your chest, erratic and wild, a drumbeat of panic. The weight of the argument you just had with your mother crashes over you like an unrelenting wave, cold and suffocating. It presses down on you with a force that makes you feel as if you’re drowning, gasping for air but finding none.

Your eyes remain fixed on the house in front of you—your childhood home, a place that should have held comfort and warmth but instead feels like a prison. Each window, each door, every familiar detail seems to glare back at you like a hundred judgmental eyes, watching, waiting. This is where you learned the rules of a game you never asked to play. A place where love was conditional, tethered to sacrifice and silence. And now, it’s a place you’ve walked away from—perhaps for good.

Your vision blurs with unshed tears, and you let out a shaky breath that comes out more like a sob than you intended. You blink rapidly, trying to clear the sting from your eyes, but it’s useless. You can’t stay here, not in front of this house where the walls seem to whisper accusations, where every step closer feels like sinking deeper into quicksand. You can’t risk your mother storming out with that familiar fire in her eyes, her voice like a vice, twisting your emotions to suit her will.

With trembling hands, you fumble for your phone, fingers unsteady as they swipe through your contacts. You need an anchor, something to steady you before you’re pulled under by the crushing weight of it all. You find his name—Felix. Your thumb hovers for a moment, then presses the call button. You raise the phone to your ear, the screen blurring with tears as you pull out of the driveway. You don’t have a destination in mind; you just need to be moving, to put distance between you and that house.

The line rings once, twice, and with each unanswered ring, the panic coils tighter in your chest, rising into your throat like bile. What if he doesn’t pick up? What if he’s busy? What if you’re left alone with the noise in your head? But then—

"Hey, sunshine," his voice breaks through, warm and steady, like the first rays of dawn piercing through the darkest night. His tone is so familiar, so safe. "You okay? I'm just—"

You don’t let him finish. Your voice cracks as you speak, holding back the sob that threatens to spill over. "Felix...I—I did it. I told her...I told her that I'm done. I can't...I can't believe that I actually did it." The words rush out of you in a breathless stream, a confession that feels both terrifying and freeing.

There’s a pause on the other end, a silence that feels heavy with the weight of his understanding. You can almost hear him processing your words, feel the concern threading through the line. When he finally speaks, his voice is soft, careful. "You talked to her?" he asks, his tone gentle yet laced with worry. "What happened?"

His question hangs in the air, pulling at your heartstrings, inviting you to pour out the torrent of emotions swirling inside you. And for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel like you can breathe, even if just a little, knowing that someone is there to catch you as you fall.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, a futile attempt to push back the tears that threaten to spill over. Your heart is pounding in your chest, a heavy, uneven rhythm that matches the chaos in your mind. When you open your eyes again, you force yourself to focus on the road, blinking rapidly to clear the blurriness from your vision. You suck in a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, to find some semblance of calm amidst the storm raging inside you.  

"It was about my man-child of a brother again," you start, your voice wavering as you speak. Each word feels like a shard of glass, cutting through the tightness in your throat. "She wanted me to...to fucking drop everything and take care of his mess again. He crashed the damn car, and she’s not even mad at him. She was actually more pissed at me for not wanting to drive him everywhere." The bitterness in your tone is unmistakable, tinged with a raw edge of frustration that’s been simmering for far too long. "And I just...I couldn’t take it anymore, Lix. I told her I’m done. I told her I wasn’t coming back."  

Your breath hitches, and a sob finally breaks free, raw and unrestrained, as you come to a stop at a red light. The tears you've been holding back spill over, warm and unwelcome, streaking down your cheeks. "But what if I made a mistake? What if I’m wrong?" you choke out, the words heavy with doubt and fear. "I mean, they are my family at the end of the day, and I’m nothing without them. What if I...what if I shouldn’t have done this?"  

On the other end of the line, you hear a soft rustling, a familiar sound that brings a small measure of comfort. You know he’s moving, pacing like he always does when he’s worried. Felix’s voice comes through, steady and gentle, like a lifeline. "Hey, hey, take a breath for me, hmm?" he murmurs, his tone soothing. "Just breathe. In and out, yeah? I’m right here."  

You try to follow his instructions as you ease off the brake, the traffic lights changing to green. You take a deep breath in, filling your lungs, and then let it out, but the exhale is shaky, faltering, as if your body is resisting the calm he’s trying to instill. The tears keep flowing, unchecked, but his voice remains a steady anchor amidst the turbulent sea of your emotions.  

"You did the right thing, love," he continues, his voice firm with conviction—a conviction you desperately need to hear right now. "You’ve been dealing with their bullshit for so long. Too long. You deserve to let it go. You deserve to be free of it all."  

Without much thought, you turn the car to the right, feeling the pull of his reassurance guiding you, even if you’re not quite sure where you’re going. "But what if...what if Mom’s right?" you whisper, your voice trembling with uncertainty. "What if I am being selfish? I just...I grew up with this rule in my head that family always helps family, so what if I’m being a shitty person by refusing?"  

For a moment, there’s a pause, a breath of silence that hangs in the air, heavy with all the questions and fears you can’t quite voice. Felix’s next words are gentle, but they cut through that fog with a clarity that brings you back from the edge. "You’re not selfish," he says quietly but firmly. "Sometimes, family isn't about blood; it’s about who stands by you, who sees you. And you’ve been standing on your own for a long time. It’s okay to want more than just survival."  

Tears spill down your cheeks, hot and unrelenting, blurring your vision as they cascade over your skin. You press the heel of your hand against your eyes, trying to stem the flow, but it’s like trying to dam a river with a single stone—futile. The weight of everything, the argument, the years of silent endurance, crashes over you in waves, threatening to pull you under. With a shaky breath, you pull onto the side of the road, the tires crunching over gravel, and the car comes to a halt. 

"I’m scared, Lix," you confess, your voice breaking, small and fragile as it escapes you. "I’m scared that I’ll regret this." The words hang in the air, and for a moment, it feels like the world is holding its breath with you. Your heart is a clenched fist in your chest, squeezing tighter with each passing second. 

Then, his voice breaks through the silence—a warm, comforting presence that feels like a soft embrace, wrapping around you when you need it most. "You won’t," he says, his tone gentle yet firm, a soothing balm for your frayed nerves. "You know why, huh? Because you’re finally choosing yourself. And that’s not something to regret, not ever. Love, I’m not trying to say it’ll be easy from now on, but you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved for who you are, not for what you can do for someone else."

A shaky breath escapes your lips, and the tightness in your chest starts to loosen, if only a little. His words are like a lifeline, grounding you, pulling you back from the edge of your doubts. Deep down, beneath the fear and the uncertainty, you know he’s right. You’ve carried this weight for so long that it feels strange to think of setting it down. But his words are a steady anchor, keeping you from drifting away. 

"Can I come over?" you ask, your voice almost a whisper, raw and vulnerable. "I don’t... I don’t want to be alone right now." The admission feels like exposing a wound, but with Felix, it’s okay. It’s always been okay.

There isn’t a moment of hesitation before he responds, his voice filled with that unwavering reassurance you’ve come to rely on. "Of course. I’m not home right now, but I was already on my way from class, so I’ll meet you there, okay? Just stay on the phone with me until I get there. We’ll figure everything out together."  

You nod, even though he can’t see you, feeling a small, tired smile tug at the corners of your lips. There’s still a lingering ache in your heart, but it’s softer now, more manageable. "Thank you, babe," you whisper, the words heavy with gratitude and love. 

"Always," he murmurs back, his voice a soft promise that settles deep within you. "Just keep breathing, sunshine. I’ve got you. I always will."

With his voice still in your ear, you restart the car, feeling his presence as a guiding light through the darkness that’s clouded your path for so long. The road stretches out before you, uncertain and unfamiliar, but with Felix by your side—even if only through the phone—it doesn’t seem quite so daunting. 

For the first time in what feels like years, there’s a flicker of something warm blooming in your chest. Hope. Fragile, tentative, but undeniably there. And for now, that’s enough.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist @nxtt2-u @nebugalaxy @bokk-minnie @tajannah-price1 (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!

🥹🥹 thank you so much! it makes me so happy to know you like it ilysm 🩷

⨳ ❛𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

스트레이 키즈 ( 한 ) + idol female reader ⇅ genre angst hurt + comfort semi-slowburn chapter warning mentions of reader being in pain slight mommy issues reader being stressed with work and having some imposter's syndrome symptoms rating 18+ word count 1.5k summary in which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms status on going q&a open

# other works by green # kofi # free palestine # palestine stayblr fundraiser # series masterlist

⌗ O1┆shrined

ten months earlier

It’s a shrine. Photographs and posters of your own face decorate the walls of your former bedroom, framed and hung neatly into rows according to the dates released. The wobbly old bookshelves that used to hold your most cherished books had been replaced by plain white ones that now hold nothing more than your albums and merchandise. The desk you’d spent hours upon hours sitting at while studying or writing songs until your body physically could not hold you up any longer is gone, and in place there are a few life-sized cardboards that you’re certain were not bought, but taken. The only familiarity in this shrine is your bed, dressed in the same crimson color you’d always adored. There sat you, a shell of someone whose face was never on the walls in such a way, along with your suitcase that lay untouched since you’ve arrived. 

A plethora of conflicting emotions overwhelmed your entire being as memories upon memories you often avoided flooded your already busy mind, causing a migraine to creep in through your temples. Although you’d already taken some medicine for it, you doubt it would be something that might be relieved without a proper night’s sleep. However, as your mother poked her head through the half-closed door of your old bedroom, you knew that might not be the case. Regardless, you pulled the corners of your lips into a smile you hoped would be convincing enough for her as she made her way inside to take a seat beside you. 

She looked around at the redecorating she did, blushing slightly. “I couldn’t help it, I wanted to support you in your success.”

You didn’t say anything, instead opting to take another look around at all of the eerie posters you’d barely remember posing for. The dark tones of horror present in every single thing that contained your stage name, Noctara, that created an odd feeling of looking at someone else instead of your own face. 

“I wanted to have it all in the living room, so that our friends could see how hard you’re working, but your father thought it might scare some of them away,” she laughed softly at this, rolling her eyes as though she thought it was the most ridiculous thing, and although you’d side with your father, you smiled at her anyway. It was odd to watch her find something to say, considering the last time you’d seen her in person had been so hurtful. It could only mean that she wished to forget about it — or maybe she already did. 

It wasn’t surprising in the least that she would choose to display your success now that you couldn’t walk the streets without covering up half of your face so you wouldn’t be recognized. Although you’d always had an affinity for performing, there were too many times in which you considered quitting with your mother’s obsession with having a talented child. Too many times had you been pushed right up to the edge, struggling to grab onto something to hold and keep you from falling. The irony of you being a successful idol does not escape you, though, as deadlines and busy schedules creep up behind you every time you attempt to catch a breath; only this time, you couldn’t run behind your doting father to save you from the heavy weight of the expectations of others — not when your career found itself at its peak. 

Because of your career, you were able to have your father retire from his construction job and help him pursue his lifelong dream of owning a record store right around the corner of your street. If you quit and hide now, your family that now depends on your income would be left with nothing despite your father’s store blooming thanks to this generation buying vinyls again, and it wouldn’t be fair no matter how you felt about them at the end of the day. 

“Have you seen my garden?” Your mother asked after what felt like an eternity of silence. You shake your head, surprised to hear she’d finally done what she had always said she would: to tend the gardens that had spent so many years of your childhood neglected. “Come with me.”

She motioned with her hand for you to follow her, quickly standing up and rushing out of your room as though she’d have preferred being anywhere else. With a soft groan, you stand on your feet as you ignore the ache on your lower back and knees. 

The glass sliding doors that led to your backyard was wide open when you finally stepped into the common areas of your house. Your mother stood on the porch, smiling widely as you finally scanned her hard work. It was clear that she did not plan a single thing, with wildflowers of all kinds scattered around and standing almost as tall as yourself. Though she did make a stone path that would meet in the very center where a gorgeous fountain was found. Although the chaos was present wherever your eyes landed, you couldn’t help but be completely mesmerized by its unconventional yet natural beauty. 

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed. She motioned for the porch swing right beside the sliding doors, and you gladly took a seat as she joined you. “I’m glad you finally got the garden you wanted.”

With a gentle smile, she said, “It could not have been without you.”

You tried to ignore the swelling in your chest, though the smile that formed against your wishes betrayed you and your mother smiled a little wider though thankfully did not say anything for another long while. 

“Do you have anyone?”

The sudden question caused you to scoff, rolling your eyes before you could stop yourself. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she forced out through gritted teeth at your attitude, so you purse your lips as a silent apology. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Mom,” you sighed. “You know that I am not allowed to be dating as an idol.”

“Yes, that might be true,” she continued to insist. “But I am always reading about idols who date anyway.”

“And why are you able to read about it, Mom? Because they were either caught or because their companies allowed them to come out as taken.”

“Yes, yes,” she swatted her hands in the air as if physically dismissing your words. “Rules are only a suggestion, they can’t ultimately control you like that.”

At the words coming out of her mouth, you can’t help but chuckle breathlessly and glance up at the stars above as if they’d send some strength your way. The incongruity of her words almost made you want to laugh out loud. 

“You don’t understand, I could get fired if I am caught dating, and it has happened before.”

“At least listen to what I have to say,” she huffed stubbornly, and you sighed in defeat. “The reason why I bring this up is because I met with an old friend of mine from my youth—”

“Absolutely not.”

“Hold on—”

“No, Mom, I am not meeting any sons of your friends.”

“Please!”

At her shout, you stopped yourself from responding any further, jaw clenched together in annoyance. In order to keep your composure, you turned your gaze towards the serene garden. 

“I met with a friend from my youth, and she has a son who is also an idol. I didn’t promise her anything, but I told her I would talk to you about it and if you agreed then you’d meet with the boy at the coffee shop two blocks away from here this Friday. Even if you’re concerned with your company firing you, which I doubt given your success, you can always just say you were meeting a friend instead of being on a date. There is really no harm in meeting one boy for your mother’s sake.”

“My answer is still no, I don’t want to—”

“Oh, Y/N, please! I don’t ask you for much—”

“No, Mom, you ask me for everything! It doesn’t mean that I don’t appreciate all that you have done for me because I do, but my answer will still be a solid no.”

“So you would rather embarrass me?”

With an exasperated sigh, you look up at the stars once more, begging them to save you at this point. 

“You know what, fine,” you grit out, not bothering to hide your clear frustration. “But I will meet him only once and you will never bother me with this nonsense again.”

The beam that took over her expression would have been comical if you weren’t so exasperated with her. She hops to her feet in excitement, kissing your cheeks before rushing back inside to presumably tell your father about this. In the distance, you could hear her reminding you that the meeting would be this Friday at noon. 

Another sigh makes it past your lips, rubbing your temples before leaning back in your seat. 

The garden truly was beautiful, and the starry night sky was even more stunning. 

posted: 06 • 14 • 2024

💬 a note from green;

i broke up with my girlfriend today but we roll haha. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, more will be coming since i'm just going to throw myself into writing instead of coping because therapy is expensive and i don't want to.

( 🏷️ ) taglist: @agi-ppangx @jisunglyricist