Oh, Green!

ENGENES jay is in the hospital AGAIN and will not participate in the Japan tour, and the boys are visibly tired and showing signs of colds according to Sunghoon, colds spread easily between them then quickly everyone will be sick!!! we can't let Enhypen have another comeback, as fans we will do everything we can to prevent this from happening, So today don't comment anything other than requests for Enhypen to rest and for Belift to reschedule the comeback use the #LetEnhypenRest, go to ALL social media and spread the message:

— @BELIFTLAB

How long do you intend to see your artists presenting health and physical problems without giving them a break? This routine of flights, commitments and shows NEEDS appropriate breaks. They are your artists, where is the care? This is inhumanane.

#LetEnhypenRest

@HYBEOFFICIALtwt @BELIFTLAB

We see the excessive overwork & exploitation of ENHYPEN. Their health & well-being are being sacrificed for your benefit, and we won’t stand for it. It’s time to end these inhumane working schedules and give them the rest they need.

#LetEnhypenRest

THANK YOU ALL FOR VOTING! As promised, here are the results of what I’ll be posting for my Halloween Event based on this poll! Thank you for all the help!

CHOOSE WHAT YOU WANT TO READ!

HEY GUYS! I’m thinking of doing some kind of event for October since I really want to try my hand at writing horror stories, some of them might contain some smut but it probably won’t be the main focus of the stories.

My question is, which groups would you guys like to see me write for? I’ll let the poll go on for a week, and then I’ll post the results for what I’ll be writing for soon after!

Want to see more than just one group? Want to see a specific member? Have any good ideas you’d like to share? Let me know in the comments!

PLEASE REBLOG TO SPREAD THE WORD!

Small Announcement from Green !

For those who do not know, I have an ongoing series called I Can’t Change (Bisexual!Felix x Male Reader). It’s about the Reader’s journey while in conversion therapy after being caught at a secret queer party.

Anyway, I have been feeling a little bit stuck with said story and I really couldn’t figure out why until recently. There was, admittedly, a lot of lack of planning on my part. However, I think I have a more solid idea of what I want out of this story. That means, though, that I will be deleting the chapters I have posted so far, rewriting them, and then posting them again.

It makes me sad to have to do this, truly, but I feel this is the best solution for me if I want to salvage this story and actually finish it. Hopefully, the rewrites can be done quickly and I can post them as soon as possible and carry on posting newer chapters. Hopefully!

Thank you to everyone who’s supported my series, it’s meant the whole world to me. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but I hope to make it up to you 💕

NEWJEANS is now added to the list of K-Pop groups I want to write for! Please make requests for them to get me started!

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

🍿 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 ( stray kids )

❛ In the hushed shadows of an empty cinema, you and Hyunjin find yourselves doing anything except watch the film.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 + male reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.2k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 12 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was requested by a lovely Anon! It was especially fun to explore the agoraphilia kink and it might or might not have awakened something in me, sorry not sorry. Requests are currently open! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, FWB trope, agoraphilia (the kink related to having sex in a public space), handjob, blowjob, let me know if I missed anything!

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

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

The large screen cast a solitary glow in the otherwise dark and empty cinema room, its flickering light the only beacon amidst the shadows. The film, having premiered only a week ago, played out its animated scenes, but your attention was never captured by the vibrant characters or the lively plot. It was the heart of the week, the sun hanging high in the sky outside, and the cinema was hushed in a midday silence. The movie, a colorful tapestry of whimsy designed for children's delight, had been carefully selected by Hyunjin as part of a deliberate plan.

He knew that a matinee showing of a children's film would ensure privacy, a quiet refuge from the bustling world outside. The choice spoke volumes of his thoughtfulness, a gesture meant to cocoon you both in a rare moment of undisturbed togetherness. The dim ambiance and the occasional laughter from the screen seemed distant, like echoes in a cavern, as the true magic unfolded in the space between your entwined fingers and shared, whispered words.

His hand rested with a gentle weight on your upper thigh, a touch that felt both grounding and electric. Though his gaze appeared firmly fixed on the screen ahead, you could sense the unspoken intentions behind his seemingly casual posture. His fingers, warm and slightly calloused, felt like they were weaving a spell of anticipation and desire.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt him inch just a fraction closer to your already eager core, a subtle yet powerful movement that sent ripples of longing through your body. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the flickering light from the screen casting playful shadows across his face. His smirk, a tantalizing curve at the corners of his lips, told you he was fully aware of the effect he had on you. It was a dance of silent communication, a game of tension and teasing that left you breathless and wanting more.

The room seemed to shrink, the outside world fading into oblivion as every fiber of your being focused on the closeness of his touch and the promise of what it held. The distant sounds of the film became a mere backdrop to the intimate symphony of your shared moment, each second stretched out, dripping with delicious anticipation. His smirk deepened as he felt your reaction, a silent victory that only fueled the fire between you both.

It wasn’t long before Hyunjin’s hand found its way to the apex of your thighs, pressing firmly against your clothed core. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming, and suddenly breathing felt like a conscious effort rather than a natural reflex. Each inhalation was shallow, your chest rising and falling in a rhythm dictated by his tantalizing touch.

Your hands clung to the armrests of your seat, knuckles white with the force of your grip, as your body involuntarily arched and buckled against his hand. The need for more, for deeper contact, pulsed through you, a throbbing ache that begged for release. Hyunjin, sensing your desperation, was unreserved in his approach, his fingers moving with practiced skill as they massaged your length through the fabric of your jeans.

The roughness of the denim contrasted deliciously with the tenderness of his caress, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, a fire stoked by his every motion. From the corner of your eye, you glimpsed the outline of his own arousal, straining against the confines of his pants. The sight sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, feeding your ego and heightening the intensity of the moment.

In the dim, secluded theater, with only the flickering light of the screen to witness your secret encounter, the world outside ceased to exist. Each touch, each whisper of movement, was magnified in the hushed silence. Hyunjin’s breath, warm and shallow, mingled with yours, creating a private symphony of shared desire. His eyes, dark and intense, flickered with a mix of mischief and ardor, reflecting the storm of emotions that raged within you both.

There was never any kissing between the two of you, no trace of affection mingled with the deeply intimate actions that had become your shared ritual. Lips never met in tender embrace, and there were no soft whispers of endearment. Instead, the connection you forged was raw and elemental, stripped of the frills of romance. Behind closed doors and within the shadows of dimly lit rooms, you found a thrilling liberation in the mutual use of each other’s bodies. Each encounter was a secret symphony of touch and sensation, free from the constraints of emotional entanglement.

The exhilaration of this clandestine arrangement was a heady intoxication, a rush of adrenaline that coursed through your veins each and every time. The absence of romantic gestures and the lack of emotional responsibility created a unique and intoxicating blend of freedom and anticipation. You both existed in a world where the only currency was the explicit pleasure you pursued together, a hedonistic exchange that left no room for the complexities of caring beyond the immediate moment.

This arrangement, devoid of conventional intimacy, was pure bliss—a potent addiction that occupied your thoughts through every waking moment. The craving for these encounters became an ever-present undercurrent in your daily life, a hunger that only grew stronger with each rendezvous. The physical connection, unburdened by the expectations of love or the weight of emotional commitment, was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you could lose yourselves in the primal joy of unrestrained passion.

Each touch, each breathless moment, was a testament to the unique bond you shared—one that thrived in the dark, away from the scrutinizing eyes of the world. The thrill of secrecy, the raw, unfiltered pleasure, was an addiction that neither of you could resist. It was a dance of shadows and light, a tantalizing game that blurred the lines between reality and desire, leaving you both perpetually yearning for the next encounter.

Growing weary of the languid touches that teased more than satisfied, you decided to seize control from Hyunjin. Your fingers, light and teasing, trailed a deliberate path up to his painfully hard arousal. The unexpected contact elicited a raw, unguarded moan from his plump lips, his eyes flashing with a mixture of surprise and irritation. Yet, his glare only made you chuckle softly, a sound that vibrated with quiet confidence and amusement.

Determined to unravel him with your touch, you felt a rising tide of desperation to see him surrender. Your movements became more purposeful, almost urgent, as you deftly tugged his pants and underwear down just enough to liberate his beautiful, aching member. The sight of him laid bare before you sent a thrill through your veins, your own need intensifying at the vision of his vulnerability.

Hyunjin sighed in relief, the tension momentarily ebbing away, only to be replaced by a darker, more intense gaze. His eyes, heavy with desire, watched as you surveyed the dimly lit cinema room, ensuring your clandestine encounter remained undisturbed. Satisfied that you were alone, you slowly sank to your knees between his legs, the anticipation of what was to come heightening the electricity in the air.

The dim glow of the screen cast ethereal shadows over your form, accentuating the intimate tableau you created together. Hyunjin’s breath hitched, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent acknowledgment of your shared hunger and the shifting power dynamic. As you positioned yourself, the world outside the darkened room ceased to exist, leaving only the palpable tension and the promise of exquisite release.

His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, each exhalation a testament to his struggle to maintain composure. Your hands, now steady and confident, moved with a precision born of intimate knowledge, eager to draw out every shiver and gasp. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered need, created a cocoon around you both, a sanctuary of desire where every touch, every glance, spoke volumes.

Hyunjin’s quiet moans filled the space, mingling with the distant sounds of the film, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed in the secluded darkness. Your control, your neediness, intertwined seamlessly, crafting a moment of pure, unadulterated passion that left both of you breathless and yearning for more.

Hyunjin was already leaking, a tantalizing sight that made your mouth water with anticipation. The glistening evidence of his arousal only spurred you on, your desire mounting with every passing second. You wrapped your fingers around his throbbing length, feeling the heat and the pulse beneath your touch. Slowly, deliberately, you began to stroke him, each movement measured to draw out his pleasure.

As your hand moved, Hyunjin’s reaction was immediate and intense. He threw his head back, his face a portrait of pure ecstasy. His mouth fell open, a silent cry of pleasure escaping his parted lips, and his eyes squeezed shut as waves of sensation washed over him. The sight of him, so undone by your touch, bolstered your confidence, fueling the fire of your own arousal.

With a surge of boldness, you finally took him into your mouth, the familiar taste and texture igniting a spark within you. You fought to suppress a moan, the urge to vocalize your pleasure nearly overwhelming. The sensation of him filling your mouth, the weight and warmth of him, was intoxicating. You reveled in the control, in the power you wielded over his pleasure.

Hyunjin’s response was visceral. He hissed through clenched teeth, his head snapping forward to watch you. His eyes, dark and intense, were filled with a mix of surprise and unrestrained desire. His brows furrowed, the tension etched across his features, but his jaw remained slack, a testament to his struggle to contain his sounds. The effort to maintain some semblance of control was evident, yet you could see him teetering on the edge, each moment threatening to push him over.

Your movements were slow, deliberate, savoring the taste of him and the way his body responded to your ministrations. The flickering light from the screen played across his face, highlighting the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his lips trembled with every suppressed sound. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered connection, created a heady atmosphere that wrapped around you both.

Every subtle shift of his hips, every strangled breath, fed your own desire. The rhythm you established, the ebb and flow of pleasure, was a dance you both knew well. The darkened cinema room, the backdrop of the distant film, became a world unto itself, where the only reality was the shared ecstasy and the bond forged in the heat of passion.

With each stroke, each gentle suction, you brought him closer to the edge, the anticipation building between you. Hyunjin’s gaze never wavered, locked onto you with a mixture of awe and desperation. The connection, so deeply physical, was underscored by the unspoken understanding that this moment, this exchange of pleasure, was something sacred and profoundly intimate.

It was almost uncanny to experience Hyunjin’s unusual silence. You had grown so accustomed to the symphony of his voice, the way he filled intimate moments with his melodic praises and unrestrained moans. His words, often slurred by the intoxicating waves of pleasure, were a chorus of erotic melodies that resonated deep within you, igniting your own desires. The quiet now was both a stark contrast and a thrilling challenge, a testament to his struggle to maintain control.

Yet, even in his silence, the intensity of his need was unmistakable. His normally expressive self found new ways to convey his desperation, his fingers tangling in your hair with a grip that spoke volumes. The usually tender touch now firm and commanding, guiding your head in a rhythm that matched his urgent desires. The sensation of his fingers fisting your hair, each tug a silent plea for more, sent shivers down your spine.

Hyunjin’s hips began to move with a mind of their own, thrusting to meet the rhythm you established. Each upward motion synchronized with the downward movement of your mouth, creating a perfect harmony of motion and sensation. His normally vocal nature was replaced by a more physical expression of his need, every thrust a wordless cry of pleasure. The quiet, punctuated only by the sound of your movements and his ragged breaths, created an atmosphere thick with unspoken longing.

The flickering light from the screen danced across his face, highlighting the tautness of his jaw and the fire in his eyes. The restraint he showed, the effort to maintain some semblance of composure, made the moment even more electrifying. His usual clinginess, now intensified, was a physical manifestation of his pleasure, his body seeking yours with an almost desperate fervor.

As you moved together, the dance of your intimacy became a testament to your deep connection. Each motion, each shared breath, wove a tapestry of desire that wrapped around you both. The darkened cinema room, once a simple backdrop, now felt like a secret world where only the two of you existed, bound by the intensity of your shared experience.

Hyunjin’s control wavered with each passing second, the struggle evident in the way his body tensed and relaxed in quick succession. The quiet was a fragile thing, threatened by the rising tide of his pleasure. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours, communicating volumes without a single word. The normally eloquent Hyunjin was now a creature of pure sensation, his need for you transcending language.

Every movement, every touch, was a symphony of silent communication, an intricate dance of desire and control. As you continued, the thrill of his intensified clinginess and the unusual quiet created a heady mix, a potent blend of intimacy that left you both breathless and yearning for more.

Your free hand moved to caress his balls, the delicate yet firm touch sending jolts of intensified pleasure through Hyunjin’s already electrified body. The effect was immediate and profound; his actions became increasingly erratic, a beautiful chaos of movement that reflected the storm of sensations you were conjuring within him. His face, a canvas of raw emotion, scrunched up gorgeously in response, each twitch and contortion a testament to the bliss you were eliciting.

As the tension mounted, he leaned forward, his need to be closer to you overwhelming his senses. His movements pushed your nose against his pelvis, the intimacy of the action driving both of you to new heights of arousal. You could feel his release building, a palpable tension that seemed to vibrate through his entire body.

When he finally reached the peak of his pleasure, you felt the hot, thick rush of his release spill down your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, filling your mouth to the point of gagging. The fullness was both a challenge and a thrill, a testament to the depth of your connection and the intensity of the moment. You struggled to breathe, the sheer volume of him making it difficult, but you relished every second of it.

Eventually, Hyunjin’s iron grip on you relaxed, his fingers loosening their hold on your hair. You pulled back, gasping for air, the sudden rush of oxygen a stark contrast to the suffocating fullness you’d just experienced. The cool air on your face and the lingering taste of him in your mouth created a heady mix of sensations that left you reeling.

Hyunjin’s gaze softened, the fierce intensity giving way to a tender vulnerability. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he’d just experienced. You could see the gratitude and the residual pleasure in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection you shared.

The dim light of the cinema cast gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the lingering flush of arousal on his cheeks. The room, once a simple setting, now felt like a sacred space where the boundaries between you had dissolved. Every detail, from the softness of his touch to the taste of his release, was etched into your memory, creating a moment that was both ephemeral and eternal.

As you both recovered, the world outside seemed distant and unimportant. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered connection, had created a bubble of reality where only the two of you existed. The echoes of pleasure and the warmth of your shared experience lingered in the air, a promise of more moments like this to come.

Just like that, you returned to your seat, slipping back into the plush cushion as if nothing extraordinary had transpired. With a composed air, you swallowed the lingering evidence of your intimate adventure, the remnants of Hyunjin’s release settling deep within you. The calm facade you wore was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had just raged between you.

Beside you, Hyunjin was utterly spent, his chest rising and falling in an effort to catch his breath. His skin glistened faintly under the dim cinema lights, a sheen of sweat marking the intensity of your shared moment. His eyes, still glazed with the remnants of pleasure, never left your figure. The way you appeared so nonchalant, so composed, despite the passionate exchange that had just unfolded, captivated him.

Your core throbbed with a dull, insistent ache, a testament to the desire that still simmered within you. The anticipation of what was to come made it difficult to focus on anything else. You shifted slightly in your seat, the ache intensifying with every subtle movement, a constant reminder of the unfinished business between you.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on you, a silent promise of continued pleasure hanging in the air. The unspoken understanding that the fun was far from over added an electric tension to the room. The film continued to play, its plot a distant murmur, overshadowed by the anticipation of what awaited you both once the credits rolled.

As you both sat in the dim light, the world outside the cinema seemed to fade away. The mundane reality of your surroundings contrasted sharply with the charged intimacy you shared. The darkened room, filled with the flickering glow of the screen, became a private haven where your desires could roam free, undisturbed by the outside world.

Hyunjin’s fingers twitched slightly, a subtle indication of his renewed interest. The thought of continuing your escapade in the confines of the car sent a thrill through you, your body responding eagerly to the prospect. The anticipation built steadily, each passing moment bringing you closer to the next chapter of your passionate adventure.

The film’s soundtrack provided a background score to your thoughts, each swell of music mirroring the rising tension between you. Your composure remained intact, but beneath the surface, a tempest of desire brewed, ready to be unleashed once more. Hyunjin’s presence, his proximity, only added fuel to the fire, making the wait both torturous and deliciously exciting.

In that shared silence, the air thick with unsaid words and unmet needs, you both found solace. The bond forged in those stolen moments of pleasure was a testament to the depth of your connection. The promise of what was to come loomed large, a tantalizing prospect that kept you both on the edge, eagerly awaiting the privacy of the car where your desires could be fully realized.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (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!

Since I’ve been getting a lot of requests lately, I thought I should remind everyone of the guidelines! Thank you all for the amazing support! 🫶

【 WWW.MINHOSBITTERRIVER.COM/GUIDELINES 】

💭 PINNED ‣ LIBRARY ‣ TAGLIST & ANONS ‣ REQUEST LIST

FEEL FREE TO SEND ME REQUESTS, BLURBS, ONE-SHOTS, MOST TO LEAST, REACTION ASKS OR SUGGESTIONS! HOWEVER, HERE ARE SOME GUIDELINES TO KEEP IN MIND BEFORE SUBMITTING!

📨 REQUESTS ARE OPEN 📨

《📪》 WILL NOT WRITE!

OO1. Full smut requests for any idols born after 2003 will not be accepted and will immediately be deleted. Anyone born after this year will strictly have either platonic or non-sexual romantic relationships with the reader. Check the next section for more on this. NOTE: This is subject to change each year since birthdays are a thing.

OO2. If it’s prosecutable, I won’t write it. This mostly applies to topics like pedophilia, necrophilia, or anything that is done without proper consent.

OO3. Request containing topics of age play or anything that infantilizes anyone will not be accepted since I’m not comfortable with it.

OO4. I will not be changing the gender of any of the idols.

《📫》 WILL WRITE!

OO1. ATEEZ, BTS, ENHYPEN, (G)I-DLE, ITZY, MAMAMOO, NEWJEANS, P1HARMONY, STRAY KIDS & XDINARY HEROES.

OO2. Suggestive content is okay for idols born on or before 2004! Anyone born after this year will strictly have either platonic or non-sexual romantic relationships with the reader. NOTE: This is subject to change each year since birthdays are a thing.

OO3. Smut is always welcomed! Sex holds a special meaning for me so my writing will reflect that. However, that doesn’t mean that I’m not down to try new kinks so feel free to request whatever! (P.S. I love pegging and shibari — do with that what you will!)

OO4. Male, gender neutral, female, non-binary, transgender readers are all welcomed!

OO5. Any genres and tropes are okay as long as they’re not too sci-fi or toxic! NOTE: This is subject to change since I’m indecisive as hell.

OO6. Song-inspired suggestions are always so much fun! This basically means that you can send me a song along with an idol of your preference and I’ll write something inspired by it.

《✉️》 DEPENDS!

OO1. Medical conditions and/or illnesses will mostly depend on my existing knowledge on it and whether I have the time to research it or not. If you want me to write about a reader that uses a wheelchair because you use a wheelchair, I would be honored to try!

OO2. Readers of a specific race, ethnicity, body shape and/or sexual orientation could also be accepted! By accepting your request, I vow to research with utmost care.

OO3. Real-life issues can still be requested but this is where I will be most picky since politics and such are already such sensitive topics.

💬 Minors are not allowed to interact with my NSFW/18+ content! If you’re a minor or an ageless blog interacting with these types of contents, you will be blocked.

💬 Please allow at least two weeks or so for your request to be posted before asking me about it since I suffer from a few health issues and I also work. I want everyone to have the best quality work I can provide, so please hang on!

💬 While requests are open, I still reserve the right to reject any of the requests regardless of whether they follow the guidelines or not. That said, it very rarely happens since I almost always appreciate a writing challenge!

💬 I maintain the right to reject any request regardless of the rules (a very, very rare occurrence).

🫙 LEAVE A TIP? 🫙

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

*boop* hi green :3

i hope your birthday went well and you had fun for the whole day<3

i think you wont be surprised when i say i came with yet another request... but !! i came up with this idea yesterday during my lectures and honestly i dont think there's anyone else than you who could write it perfectly so here i am<3

so, i was think about changbin with a shy, reserved s/o who's scared of intimacy - not only sex but simply initiating physical contact with him and being seen naked. and one day changbin would suggest doing some kind of ‘excercise’ where both of them would slowly and patiently undress each other and binnie would instruct them to touch him - his face, chest, back, everything. the reader would obviously be scared, but gradually would try to overcome their fears. there might be some tears, maybe the reader would be like “binnie, i can’t do this, please close your eyes” but eventually would end up tracing their fingers down changbin’s body.

it might end up with a soft, fluffy smut with lots of praises but it doesn’t have to, just write whatever you feel comfortable with<3 thank you so so much, please take your time, i’ll be patient❤️

sending you lots of love, mwah😽

Merin 😭 when you said you’d be patient I don’t think you expected me to take a whole seven months to post this IM SO SORRY IM SO EMBARRASSED 😖😖😖 This fic has honestly been through it like I lost count of how many times I wrote this, deleted it, rewrote it, deleted it, rewrote it…only for me to end up going for my original plan 💀

As you might remember, my birthday was spent pretty much in bed since I was sick but the following seven months have been…something! It’s all good though and I’m quite content with what my life looks like at the moment, you know, all things considered. I’ve been writing so much lately so I’m really happy about that. What about you babe, how have you been???

As always, feel free to request anything else and I promise I’ll try to do better about responding because what the fuck even was that IM SORRY AGAIN 😭😖 Anyways I love you so much and I’ve missed you so much mwah! ── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

🎇 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 🎇

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 2.8k

Thank you so much! I’m so happy you enjoyed reading my work, and that you found some comfort from it! *Pats my own back* My job has been accomplished! 🥹🫶

𑁍ࠬܓ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( stray kids )

❛ In which the members of Stray Kids navigate the world of fatherhood without you.

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 4.4k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This request was absolutely devastating to write, thank you! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has passed away, each member is a single father still in love with you, mentions of grief, some of the kids fall under the LGBTQ+ community.

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

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

방찬 ── BANG CHAN.

Chan's office was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the desk lamps, casting a warm yet somber light across the room. The gentle hum of the night time silence was broken only by the rhythmic, soothing breaths of his three-year-old daughter, who lay peacefully on the worn leather couch. Her tiny face, so serene in slumber, was a haunting mirror of your beautiful features, stirring a profound ache in Chan's heart.

As he watched her, tears began to silently trace their way down his cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of his sorrow and longing. He could still hear your final, trembling words: "Love her twice as much in my absence." The memory was a dagger, twisting with the relentless guilt and grief that had become his constant companions. The sight of his daughter's innocent face, so reminiscent of you, only deepened his anguish.

Today had been especially trying. Chan had promised his little girl a joyous outing to the park, a precious respite from his hectic work schedule. But the day took an unexpected turn when Changbin called in a panic, frantically searching for the nearly completed recording of their latest song. What Chan had hoped would be a swift resolution morphed into hours of desperate searching, only to end in the devastating realization that they would have to begin the recording anew.

All the while, his daughter’s patience wore thin. She had no toys, no distractions, just the suffocating boredom of waiting. Her disappointment was palpable, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. Chan felt like he was failing her, failing in the promise he had made to you. Driven by the need to make amends, he gently woke his daughter. Her initial crankiness gave way to curiosity as he apologized for breaking his promise and proposed a sleepover at home. Movies, games, a fort, and endless cuddles — her eyes sparkled at the thought, and her frown dissolved into giggles.

At home, they transformed the living room into a magical fortress of pillows and blankets, a sanctuary just for them. They watched animated tales, played games, and reveled in the simple joy of being together. Wrapped in the cozy embrace of their fort, she eventually succumbed to sleep once more, nestled against him. Her hair, a tousled mess, and a small trail of drool on his shirt were endearing reminders of her tender age and boundless trust in him.

Chan held her close, his heart swelling with love and a bittersweet yearning. She was the living embodiment of his heart, and as he gazed at her, he whispered a vow into the stillness of the night. He promised to love her with all his might, carrying the weight of both his love and the part of you that would forever reside in their lives. In that quiet moment, amidst the echoes of his promises, he felt a fragile sense of peace, knowing that as long as he held her, he was keeping your memory alive.

이민호 ── LEE MINHO.

Minho lay in the dim, soft glow of his bedroom, shadows whispering across the walls as the twins slept peacefully beside him. Their tiny forms had claimed your side of the bed, filling the void where your presence once brought warmth and comfort. The night he returned home with the babies, he had attempted to sleep alone, but the emptiness was unbearable. He tossed and turned, haunted by the silence, until one of the babies began to cry, inevitably waking the other. In his desperation to soothe them, he gathered every pillow he could find, crafting a makeshift crib in his bed. Their delicate features softened in the calm of his presence, and they finally drifted off to sleep.

As Minho gazed at their angelic faces, hands entwined even in slumber, his heart ached with the weight of your absence. How could he begin to process this loss? You had spent almost ten months nurturing these little miracles, only to be taken away before you could revel in the beauty of their existence. Ten months of creating life, and you would never witness the serene way they held hands in their sleep. Ten months of dreams and hopes, and you would miss their first birthdays, graduations, weddings. It was unbearably cruel, and Minho’s soul was tormented by the thought.

You wouldn’t even be here to laugh about the pregnancy mix-up that had both of you convinced it would be a boy and a girl, only to welcome two beautiful baby girls into the world. His friends had offered to stay and help, but he had declined, needing the solitude to grapple with his grief. Now, in the stillness of the night, he questioned if he had made the right choice.

Tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks as the full weight of his new reality settled over him. He was to raise these precious little princesses on his own, and the responsibility felt crushing. Yet, as he watched their peaceful slumber, he knew he had to summon every ounce of strength for them. They were his world now, the living, breathing remnants of your love. He vowed to cherish them, to love them fiercely, and to guide them through life with unwavering dedication, for they were all he had left of you, and he was all they had.

In the hushed silence, he whispered promises into the night, pledging to be the best father he could be. He would ensure they knew how deeply you loved them, even if you couldn’t be there to tell them yourself. And as he held them close, feeling the rise and fall of their tiny chests, a fragile peace washed over him. He knew that in every laugh, every tear, and every milestone, you would be there in spirit, guiding him, loving them, always.

서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the park as Changbin and his 13-year-old son sat on a weathered wooden bench, savoring their ice cream. The park buzzed with the laughter of children, their joy mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves in the summer breeze. Parents lounged on the grass, basking in the last light of day, while Changbin watched his son’s face light up with a blush as he received a message.

Changbin couldn’t resist teasing him. "Who’s got you smiling like that?" he asked, his voice laced with playful curiosity.

His son’s cheeks reddened further, and he looked away, trying to hide his smile. "Just a girl from school," he mumbled, glancing at his phone. "She texted to congratulate me on today’s soccer game."

Changbin’s interest was piqued. "A girl, huh? Do you like her?" he inquired gently, but his son just rolled his eyes, keeping his thoughts to himself.

After a while, his son broke the comfortable silence with a question that took Changbin by surprise. "Dad, how did you know Mom was the one for you?"

Changbin's heart swelled with a bittersweet mix of love and nostalgia. He took a deep breath, the memory washing over him like a tender wave. "Well," he began softly, "it was before you were born. Your mom and I had only been dating for a few months. One evening, we decided to take a ride on my motorcycle to grab some food. On the way back, she spotted a bookstore and got all excited. She tapped my shoulder and pointed it out, her eyes sparkling like a child's. I couldn't say no to that."

He smiled, lost in the memory. "We stopped, and I handed her my card, telling her to get whatever she wanted. She promised she’d come out empty-handed, but I knew better." He chuckled, remembering your sheepish yet triumphant expression as you emerged with a bag hidden behind your back. "She ended up buying two books and couldn’t stop talking about them, her excitement contagious. When I told her I was glad she found something, she did this little dance of joy before climbing back onto the bike. She had to hold the bag since her backpack was already stuffed with our food, but she was too happy to care."

Changbin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. "That’s when I knew she was the one. It wasn’t some grand gesture; it was her pure joy in the little things, her passion for life. I wish you could have known her. She loved you so much, even before you were born."

His son’s eyes mirrored his own longing and admiration. "I wish I’d known her too," he said softly. "My goal in life is to find my soulmate, like you found Mom. I want to love someone as much as you loved her."

Changbin’s heart ached with pride and sorrow. "You deserve to have someone by your side for a long time," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, "Who knows, maybe this girl from school is your one."

His son groaned, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he nudged Changbin, causing his ice cream to topple onto the ground. Changbin laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed through the park. His own ice cream slipped from his grasp, joining his son’s on the pavement, and they both burst into laughter, the joy of the moment a soothing balm to their hearts.

In that golden hour, surrounded by the simple pleasures of ice cream and shared memories, Changbin felt a profound sense of peace. Despite the heartache and loss, he and his son would continue to find love and joy in the little things, just as you had taught him. And in those moments of laughter and connection, he felt your presence with them, a silent guardian watching over their journey, smiling at their shared happiness.

황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin sat alone in the dimly lit room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden hue over the familiar surroundings. The air was thick with memories, each piece of furniture and every stroke of paint a testament to the love and labor he had shared with you. His heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia as he looked around, his mind filled with the echoes of laughter and the whispers of cherished moments.

He remembered the countless hours spent building the furniture, the frustration and triumph mingling as he struggled with stubborn screws, while you sat nearby, reading the instructions with a patience that never failed to calm him. The nursery walls, painted in a tapestry of happy themes, bore the marks of your combined artistic talents, creating a sanctuary for the new life you both awaited with eager anticipation.

The night he returned home with the baby, your absence a gaping void beside him, was etched into his soul. He had sat in the rocking chair, the one he had bought especially for you, cradling the fragile bundle in his arms, paralyzed by the fear of being alone. Many nights, he had dozed off in that chair, too afraid to leave its comforting embrace, haunted by the silence that your departure had left behind.

A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the day he found your child drawing on the walls, their tiny hands busy creating a colorful mural over your delicate paintings. It had pained him to see your work altered, but the sight of their concentrated little face, so much like yours, had softened his heart. He had chosen to let them be creative, to express themselves freely, even if it meant sacrificing a piece of you.

He thought of the time his six-year-old had cried in his arms, their tiny body trembling with confusion and hurt because they didn't fit in with the boys or the girls. Hyunjin had held them close, whispering reassurances, his heart breaking at the familiar pain. It had been a long journey, but he had worked tirelessly to make their home a sanctuary of love and acceptance.

The memories came in a flood, each one a cherished gem: the summer in middle school when they returned home with bags of new clothes and put on a fashion show, proudly displaying their androgynous style; the pride parade, where he meticulously placed sticky rainbow gems on their face, their giddy excitement lighting up the day; and finally, the day they graduated and moved out, leaving behind an empty room filled with the ghosts of the past.

Tears rolled down Hyunjin’s face as he sat in the rocking chair, now old and creaky, thinking of all the moments he had cherished yet wished he could have shared with you. The weight of the memories pressed down on him, a heavy, inescapable burden.

Suddenly, his phone rang, startling him from his reverie. He hastily wiped his tears and saw it was a FaceTime call from his child. He answered, and their beaming face filled the screen, the excitement in their eyes mirrored by the twinkling fairy lights in their new apartment's bedroom.

“Hey, Dad! Look at my new room!” they exclaimed, panning the camera around to show off their new space, their voice bubbling with pride and joy.

Hyunjin’s heart swelled with pride and love. “It looks amazing, sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I miss you,” they confessed, their eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can we spend the first night together, through the phone?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, trying to mask his lingering sadness. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of moving out?”

They laughed, a sound that was pure and unfiltered joy. “Maybe, but I know you’re in my old room crying already.”

He laughed too, the heaviness lifting just a bit. “You got me there.”

They didn’t hang up, staying connected through the screen as the night deepened. Hyunjin lay back in the rocking chair, his child propped up in their new bed, both finding solace in the familiar presence of each other. As they talked and laughed, Hyunjin realized that though you weren’t physically there, your spirit lived on in these moments, in the love that continued to bind them together. And for now, that was enough.

한지성 ── HAN JISUNG.

Jisung found his seven-year-old child hidden within the treehouse that the three of you had built together. This small wooden sanctuary, once filled with laughter and joy, now bore the heavy weight of sorrow. They were still in their funeral attire, the black clothes contrasting sharply against the soft glow of the setting sun. The murmurs of the guests lingering in the backyard became a distant, indistinct hum as Jisung climbed into the treehouse, his heart burdened with grief and a simmering anger at the universe for taking you away so cruelly.

His son's youthful face was etched with a grief that seemed too profound for such a young soul. Jisung felt a surge of helplessness as he reached out, pulling his child close, wrapping him in an embrace meant to shield him from the cruel world outside. “I miss Mom,” came the soft, heart-wrenching whisper, each word a dagger to Jisung’s already shattered heart.

“I miss Mom too,” Jisung murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. They sat together in silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on them like an insurmountable force.

It had been nearly a year since you had fallen ill, the sickness so severe that the doctors had given you only a few months at most. Yet, you had defied their grim prognosis, your spirit burning brightly despite the frailty of your body. Jisung remembered the countless nights spent by your side, swallowing his fears and anger as you spoke of your impending death with a calm acceptance that had always made him furious. To him, it felt as though you had given up, but he knew deep down that wasn’t the case. You hadn’t wanted to waste what little time you had left fighting an unwinnable battle. Perhaps if he had truly listened, if he had embraced those fleeting moments instead of railing against them, he might have cherished your final days more deeply.

His son, too young to fully grasp the concept of death, struggled with the finality of it all. He understood that you would never return, yet accepting it was a different matter entirely. Jisung’s heart broke anew each time he saw the confusion and sorrow in his child’s eyes, a mirror of his own torment.

Holding his son tighter, Jisung wished he could find the right words to ease the pain, to make sense of a world that had suddenly lost its light. But words failed him, crumbled under the weight of their shared grief. Instead, he let the silence speak, hoping the strength of his embrace could convey the love and comfort his words could not.

The treehouse, once a symbol of their shared joy, now held their sorrow. The walls, which had echoed with laughter and dreams, now seemed to absorb their pain, standing as silent witnesses to their loss. But within this small, sacred space, surrounded by the memories of happier times, Jisung hoped they could begin to heal. He would be there for his son, a steadfast presence in the storm of their grief, guiding him through the darkness with a love that, while tested, remained unbroken.

As the last light of day faded, Jisung held his son close, both finding a semblance of solace in each other’s presence. In the quiet, grief-stricken aftermath, they began to forge a new bond, one tempered by loss but strengthened by their enduring love. And in that silent communion, Jisung found a glimmer of hope that they would eventually find their way through the darkness together.

이용복 ── LEE YONGBOK.

In a home where the relentless energy of three young girls and their single father painted every day with hues of joyous chaos, peace was a fleeting visitor. The air thrummed with the symphony of exuberant laughter, the vibrant discord of simultaneous chatter, and the relentless rhythm of youthful exuberance. Yongbok would never trade this tempestuous world for anything, yet a hollow ache lingered for the presence of the one who had been the steady heartbeat of their lives.

Your sudden departure had cast a profound shadow over their once lively abode, transforming it into a quieter realm where your laughter’s echoes were replaced by an oppressive silence. As time wove its delicate fabric over the jagged edges of grief, the house gradually adjusted to a new cadence, yet the weight of your absence hung heavy in every corner.

Despite this, Yongbok discovered fragments of you embedded within the fabric of their daily lives. He saw your essence in the selfless nurturing of his eldest daughter, who had seamlessly stepped into the role of co-caregiver. Her quiet acts of love and responsibility were a poignant echo of the devotion you had always shown, a continuation of your spirit in her every gesture.

In the middle child’s vibrant monologues about obscure topics, Yongbok glimpsed your enduring influence. Her unquenchable thirst for knowledge mirrored the intellectual curiosity you had nurtured, each passionate explanation a living testament to your legacy.

The youngest, with her mischievous gleam and boundless spirit, kept Yongbok perpetually on his toes. Her playful antics and joyful mischief were a vivid reminder of the vivacity you had infused into their home, a living echo of the light you had brought into their lives.

In the quiet moments, Yongbok could still feel your presence. The post-it notes left in his lunch bag by his eldest daughter, each inscribed with a simple message of love, were imbued with your warmth. The tender strokes of his middle daughter’s fingers through his hair during their movie nights were a silent connection to you. And in the gentle inquiries of his youngest, her head peeking around the door to ensure he was alright, he felt the deep compassion you had instilled in her.

Though you were absent from the milestones and daily rhythms, your essence lived on through them. In the small, tender acts of affection and love, you continued to be a cherished part of their lives, an enduring presence in their hearts.

김승민 ── KIM SEUNGMIN.

Seungmin had been absent through the vast expanse of your pregnancy, the relentless demands of touring keeping him away. He returned just in time to witness the birth, only to be swallowed by the crushing weight of your absence. The pain of missing those precious moments with you, of not being there to share in the miracle of your last days, was a wound that never healed. This haunting regret followed him, a constant reminder of a future lost.

The day you passed, Seungmin left Stray Kids, unable to bear the weight of the stage without you by his side. He couldn’t find solace in the bright lights or the rhythms of his music. Instead, he focused on his two sons—an older one, now sixteen, and a younger one, now twelve. The older boy, once a vibrant spirit, had retreated into the shadows of his room, his once lively demeanor replaced by a sullen silence. The baseball games that had once bound them together now lay abandoned, and Seungmin, despite the storm within, knew he had to reach out.

Determined to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, Seungmin planned a day just for the two of them. He left the youngest with his closest friend, Jeongin, and took his older son out. The car ride was a quiet procession of unspoken thoughts, the weight of their shared grief hanging heavily between them. When they finally arrived at their destination, Seungmin braced himself, ready to face the tender fracture of their relationship.

It took patience, but eventually, the silence broke. The older boy revealed his feelings for a boy at school, emotions that he struggled to understand. Seungmin was taken aback, but he remained calm, his heart aching with a blend of surprise and concern. As his son’s tears fell freely, Seungmin pulled him into a tender embrace, his own heart aching with a mixture of empathy and love. He whispered reassurances into his son’s hair, promising acceptance and protection, vowing to stand by him no matter what.

The boy, still tearful but comforted, then showed Seungmin a small journal. Inside was a song he had penned, a poignant melody woven with the threads of his conflicted feelings for the boy at school. The song was hauntingly beautiful, a reflection of his son’s delicate soul and burgeoning talent. Seungmin’s heart swelled with pride and love as he listened, recognizing the echoes of his own musical spirit in his child’s creation.

As the day drew to a close, Seungmin received a snapshot from Jeongin—his youngest child, covered in dirt and beaming with the joy of a day spent playing baseball. The image was a burst of pure happiness, a vivid reminder that even amidst the sorrow, moments of light and joy persisted.

As the sun set, Seungmin felt a renewed connection with his older son, a fragile yet precious bond rekindled through their shared experiences and heartfelt conversation. Though the regret of not being there for you lingered, he found solace in the fact that he was striving to be the father you would have been proud of. In the quiet moments of the evening, he hoped, with all his heart, that wherever you were, you watched over them and felt a deep pride in the man he was becoming—a father striving to honor your memory through the love and strength he gave to your family.

양정인 ── JANG JEONGIN.

Jeongin’s youngest daughter was a restless spirit, her stubborn yet carefree nature a constant reminder of the love she once shared with you. Each burst of laughter, every defiant flicker of joy, was a living echo of your vibrant presence. In contrast, his oldest son was a mirror of Jeongin’s own meticulous nature, his life meticulously ordered, each ambition carefully planned.

Lately, Jeongin’s heart had been heavy with worry. His daughter, brimming with reckless exuberance, frequently dashed off to meet a boy Jeongin knew was unworthy. The thought of her entangled with someone without a future gnawed at him, leaving him adrift in a sea of concern. As he lay awake at night, the silence seemed to taunt him, and he often found himself wondering how you would have navigated these troubled waters if you had still been there to guide them.

One night, as the moonlight spilled softly through the window, Jeongin was wrenched from sleep by the unmistakable sound of muffled sobs. His heart raced as he followed the cries to his daughter’s room. He paused at the door, the murmur of his son’s voice cutting through the silence. The room, once a sanctuary of dreams, was now a cocoon of whispered regrets and stifled tears. His daughter’s voice wavered with the weight of her shame, confessing her feelings of foolishness for having trusted the boy. His son, with a soothing calmness that mirrored your gentle strength, reassured her that she wasn’t foolish, merely swept up in the exhilarating tide of young love. He told her she deserved better than a boy with no future, his words a soft balm to her wounded spirit.

Jeongin’s heart ached with a mixture of pride and sorrow as he heard his son’s comforting tones, the echoes of your nurturing spirit resonating in his voice. After a few moments, he gathered the courage to step into the room. His eyes were tender with understanding as he took in the scene: his daughter’s tear-streaked face, her hands buried in her lap. Her cries grew louder as she saw him, her embarrassment palpable as she shielded her face with her hands.

Jeongin knelt before her, his expression a blend of love and compassion. Gently, he reached for her hands, drawing them away from her face to hold them in his own. His touch was a lifeline, a silent promise of unwavering support.

“You told me so, I know,” she choked out, her voice a trembling whisper.

“I would never say that, my love,” Jeongin murmured, his voice rich with tenderness. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close against his chest. His gaze met his son’s, a shared understanding passing between them.

“I know it hurts,” Jeongin whispered into her hair, his voice a soothing melody against her ear, “but this isn’t the end.” His embrace was a warm cocoon, a sanctuary of love amidst the storm of her emotions. The night unfolded in a delicate tapestry of comfort and hope, a testament to the enduring love that bound them together, even in the quiet absence of your guiding presence.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @bowsnbang @nothinginterestingtoshowhere

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

❤️ TONIGHT IS ABOUT YOU ( xdinary heroes )

❛ Amidst a night of rekindled romance and sensual pleasure, you and Gunil embrace each other’s desires, finding solace and excitement in your intense and heartfelt reunion.

𝐠𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐥 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 18 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Requested by the wonderful 🍀 Anon! This is was honestly so sickeningly sweet to write, I really enjoyed this one since it ended up being so soft. I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, Y/N had gone out drinking but is sober by the time they return home, Gunil's been working a lot so he hasn't been home much, romantic and soft smut, handjob, blowjob, profanity, brief mention of Y/N also receiving oral but we don't to read that part, let me know if I missed anything!

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

As you carefully slide your shoes off, the familiar hush of your home envelops you, the stillness a stark contrast to the night's revelry. The soft padding of your feet against the cool floor seems amplified in the quiet, and with deliberate care, you place your shoes onto the rack by the entrance. The late hour presses down on you, a reminder to tread softly, mindful not to disturb the peaceful sanctuary that awaits within.

The night had been nothing short of a whirlwind, each moment buzzing with energy and laughter as you and your friends flitted from one bar to the next. Yet now, as you stand in the silence of your apartment, the weight of exhaustion begins to settle in, your body finally yielding to the fatigue that the evening’s adrenaline had kept at bay. It had been ages since you last indulged in such carefree escapades, and the memory of tonight’s adventures lingers warmly, even as the comfort of home beckons you to unwind.

As you quietly peek into the living room, a tender warmth blooms in your chest at the sight that greets you. There, illuminated by the soft, flickering glow of the television, is your boyfriend, Gunil, fast asleep on the couch. The dim light casts gentle shadows across his serene features, highlighting the peacefulness of his slumber. The quiet hum of the TV is the only sound filling the room, a soothing backdrop to the stillness that envelops your home.

Gunil’s hand still loosely grips the remote, a small detail that tugs at your heartstrings. His head is tilted back, resting awkwardly against the couch in a position that must be anything but comfortable. His body remains seated, as if he had only intended to wait a little longer for your return before drifting off. The sight of him like this, so unguarded and patient, fills you with a deep affection that makes you smile softly to yourself.

As you move closer, you hear the gentle rhythm of his snores, a sound that only deepens your affection for him. With careful steps, you lower yourself onto the floor in front of him, making sure not to disturb his peaceful rest. The close proximity allows you to take in the little details—the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the way his lips are slightly parted in sleep, and the way his hair, tousled from the evening, frames his face. In this quiet moment, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in the comforting stillness of the night.

It had been far too long since you last indulged in a night out with your friends, a reality that hadn’t escaped Gunil’s attention. Sensing your hesitation when the invitation arrived, he had gently urged you to go, reminding you of how much you needed a break, especially to celebrate your friend’s birthday at the club. His encouragement had been the nudge you needed, and as the night unfolded, you found yourself immensely grateful for his insistence. Despite your initial reluctance, the evening turned out to be filled with laughter, music, and the kind of carefree joy that only comes from being surrounded by good company.

As the memories of the night swirl in your mind, you realize that the buzz from the drinks you had at the club has long since faded, leaving behind only a pleasant sense of contentment. Yet, as you watch Gunil now, asleep on the couch, a gentle ache settles in your chest. His peaceful expression, softened by the flickering light of the television, stirs something within you—a reminder of how long it’s been since the two of you have truly connected. The demands of his career, particularly with the release of his new album, have kept him busy, and each time he returned home, it was with an exhaustion that left little room for anything else.

But now, as you sit quietly in front of him, you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope. With the album finally out and his schedule beginning to clear, the possibility of reconnecting, of spending those precious moments together, seems closer than ever. The thought brings a soft smile to your lips, a promise of the warmth and affection that will soon fill the spaces that have felt empty for far too long.

Without a second thought, you find yourself leaning forward, gently resting your chin on his knee. The soft warmth of his skin beneath you, combined with the steady rise and fall of his breathing, anchors you in this quiet, intimate moment. Your eyes, filled with affection, remain fixed on him, drinking in every detail of his serene expression. 

A small stir from him catches your attention, and you watch as his brows knit together in that familiar, endearing way that always tugs at your heartstrings. A sleepy groan escapes his lips as he begins to rouse from slumber, the sound muffled yet comforting in the stillness of the room. As he slowly becomes aware of your presence, his eyes flutter open, and you’re met with a gaze that seems to glow with recognition and warmth.

The sight of his sleepy smile, soft and genuine, breathes a new vitality into you, chasing away the remnants of fatigue from your night out. “Baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick and husky with the remnants of sleep, each word wrapped in tenderness. “How was tonight?” His question, simple yet filled with care, wraps around you like a warm embrace, making you feel cherished in a way that only he can.

You remain with your head nestled on his knee, finding solace in the warmth of his presence. He doesn’t move to displace you; instead, he leans forward, his movement gentle and unhurried, to press a tender kiss against your forehead. The touch of his lips is soft, a quiet promise of affection that lingers even as he pulls back to meet your gaze. His eyes hold yours with a depth of emotion that only deepens as his fingers weave through your hair, the motion soothing and filled with love.

For a moment, your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the comfort of his touch. A contented sigh escapes you, the simple pleasure of being close to him washing away any lingering traces of the evening’s excitement. You open your eyes slowly, your gaze softened by the calm that has settled over you. “It was good,” you murmur, your voice gentle as it breaks the comfortable silence. “I had a lot of fun.”

"See?" he teases, his voice laced with playful triumph. You can’t help but roll your eyes in response, a soft snort escaping you as you catch his smirk. "I knew you'd have a good time going out," he continues, the warmth in his tone making his light-hearted taunt feel more like an affectionate nudge than anything else.

With a small huff of mock indignation, you lift yourself from the floor, shifting onto your knees as you position yourself between his legs. You lean into him, using his lap for support, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the fabric of his shirt. The familiar texture beneath your fingertips is comforting, grounding you in this tender moment. He lets you fidget, watching you with a gaze that holds both amusement and adoration. He’d let you do anything you wanted if you asked, and you’re fully aware of the power you hold in these small, intimate moments—something you occasionally enjoy using to your advantage.

His fingers find their way into your hair, gently twirling a strand around as he asks, "Did you drink a lot?" The question is casual, his voice low and soothing, as if he’s simply continuing a conversation from earlier in the evening.

You shake your head slightly, your answer honest. "No, I didn’t," you say, the words soft yet clear. "I wanted to be able to find my way back here safely, didn’t want to bother you." There’s a subtle undercurrent of affection in your response, a quiet acknowledgment of the care you both have for each other. The thought of him worrying or being disturbed by a late-night call was something you wanted to avoid, and your choice reflects that consideration. 

He gives you a gentle smile, his fingers continuing their slow, rhythmic twirling of your hair, and in that moment, the unspoken understanding between you both deepens, wrapping the room in a warmth that only the two of you share.

"Smart girl," he chuckles, his voice filled with warmth and amusement. "But I would’ve been more than happy to pick you up." His words are a gentle reminder of the unwavering support he always offers, a reassurance that you’ve come to cherish deeply. You knew this about him, of course, but there’s something in your nature that prefers to keep control firmly in your own hands, especially when you’re out on your own. The idea of relying on someone else, even someone as dependable as him, isn’t something you take lightly.

Yet, his words bring a soft smile to your lips. There’s a tenderness in his reassurance, a quiet promise that he would always be there for you, no matter the hour or the circumstances. His touch, warm and steady, only deepens the comfort you feel, making you melt into the moment, wrapped in the safety of his presence.

After a brief pause, during which the silence between you is filled with a shared understanding, you ask, "How was work?" Your voice is gentle, filled with genuine curiosity and care. This is the first time you’ve seen him today, and the weight of the hours spent apart lingers in the space between you. The question, simple as it is, carries with it the unspoken acknowledgment of the time and energy he pours into his work, as well as the longing you feel to reconnect after a day spent apart.

He sighed deeply, the weariness evident in the way his shoulders sagged as he leaned back into the couch. “It was okay,” he replied, but the tension in his expression betrayed the weight behind his words. You could sense there was more to it, something lingering beneath the surface that he hadn’t yet voiced.

"Most of the day was spent rehearsing," he continued, his tone carrying a hint of exhaustion. "And then I had to sit through a bunch of meetings without the other members. It was painfully boring—just the same old rules they want me to enforce now that we’ve got a little more free time since the comeback promotions are over."

As he spoke, you noticed the deep frown etched onto his face, his frustration palpable. "And it didn’t help that Dumb and Dumber were being extra annoying and troublesome," he grumbled, the familiar nicknames for his bandmates, Jiseok and Jooyeon, causing a soft giggle to escape your lips. The corners of his mouth twitched at your reaction, but the frustration still lingered.

"I don’t understand why they must take everything as a joke," he went on, shaking his head in disbelief. "I love them—please don’t get me wrong—but my gosh, do you think they know it won’t kill them to not joke around and listen for just a minute?" His voice held a mix of exasperation and fondness, the duality of his feelings toward his bandmates shining through.

As he vented, you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes softened, the tension slowly ebbing away as he shared his thoughts with you. The connection between you both deepened with each word, his vulnerability allowing you to see the man behind the leader, the one who carried the weight of responsibility while still holding a deep love for those who made his life both challenging and joyful.

You nod in understanding, your expression a blend of empathy and mild amusement at the inevitable chaos Gunil’s bandmates always seem to bring. As your fingers drift to caress his lower abdomen, you notice the way his gaze lingers on your hand, the subtle flicker of something unspoken passing through his eyes before he clears his throat. You feign innocence, despite the mischievous glint in your eyes that betrays your true intentions.

“Being a leader sounds so exhausting,” you murmur softly, your voice a soothing melody that seems to ease the tension in his posture. The words hang in the air, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace, and you feel him physically relax under your gentle touch. For a moment, you keep your hand resting on his abdomen, the warmth of your palm seeping through the fabric of his shirt, grounding him in the present.

But then, with a playful glint in your eye, your fingers begin to travel lower, tracing delicate, shapeless patterns on his upper thighs. The touch is light, almost teasing, and you can feel the shift in the atmosphere as Gunil’s breathing deepens, the sudden tension crackling between you. His eyes scan your face, searching for any signs of intoxication, a habit born from a place of care and concern. 

When he finds none, he lets out a deep sigh, a mixture of relief and anticipation, as if surrendering to the moment. The weight of the day begins to melt away, replaced by the intoxicating pull of your presence, your playful affection rekindling the connection between you in a way that words alone could never achieve.

"I missed you so much; you honestly have no idea," Gunil grunted, his voice thick with longing, his eyes darkening with desire as they bore into you. You gazed up at him through your lashes, offering a soft, innocent smile that you knew he found irresistible. The subtle curve of your lips only deepened the magnetic pull between you, the kind that had your heart quickening in anticipation.

His words lingered in the charged atmosphere, and you could feel the heat rising within you, your pulse matching the rhythm of the desire that simmered just beneath the surface. "I missed you too, baby, so much it’s not even remotely funny," you murmured, your voice low and intimate, the only sound cutting through the tense air, aside from the faint, forgotten hum of the television behind you. Your eyes remained locked on his, an unspoken understanding passing between you as the world around you faded into irrelevance.

Your core ached with need as you watched his length harden, the sight sending a thrill of power coursing through you. He hadn’t even removed his pants, and yet, his body responded to you with a raw intensity that made you revel in the control you held over him. His gaze never wavered, filled with a lust that matched your own, fueling the growing tension that crackled in the air.

"But now that you don’t have to leave me so early in the mornings for interviews and such," you murmured, your tone turning sultry, your lips curving into a slight smirk as your touch became more deliberate. You reached up to the waistband of his grey sweatpants, fingers brushing against the fabric, teasing but not yet pulling them off. "What do you say I show you just how much I missed you, huh? It'll help you destress, too."

Gunil's breath hitched at your sultry offer, a shiver of anticipation rippling through him as all rational thoughts seemed to abandon his mind. You could see the surrender in his eyes, the way his logical defenses crumbled in the face of your teasing promise. His nod was almost dumb, a testament to the overwhelming desire that clouded his judgment.

Your teasing smirk widened, a hint of mischief dancing on your lips as your hands remained firmly gripping the waistband of his sweatpants. Despite his silent consent, you made no move, savoring the way his helplessness played into your hands. "No, baby, you know better than that," you murmured gently, the words dripping with affection. "You’ve got to use your words, like the good boy I know you are." Your eyes roamed over his flushed face, admiring how his lustful neediness mixed with exhaustion to create a heady blend of desire.

"Yes," he breathed heavily, his voice a low, pleading murmur. "Show me how much you've missed me, please." There was something undeniably endearing about how easily he crumbled under your teasing touch. His plea was earnest, laced with the vulnerability that made your heart ache with tenderness.

As you saw the blissful neediness etched in his expression, combined with the weariness of his long day, you decided to indulge him. With a swift, decisive movement, you pulled his sweatpants and underwear down to his ankles in one fluid motion. A soft chuckle of endearment escaped your lips as you watched his hardened length spring free, the sight of it lightly slapping against his clothed abdomen.

Gunil groaned in relief, the sound low and guttural, but his dark, desire-filled gaze never left yours. The raw intensity of his stare only deepened the connection between you, heightening the moment with an almost palpable charge of anticipation and affection.

"Aw," you coo softly, leaning in closer to his eager core, your breath warm against his sensitive skin. "You're already so ready for me?" The playful note in your voice is tinged with genuine surprise, and you can’t help but savor the sight of his flushed, eager response.

Gunil huffs at your teasing, but there’s no real irritation in his tone—only the soft undertone of affection and vulnerability. "You know I'll always be ready like this for you," he murmurs, his voice laced with sincerity. "I can't help it." His words are a tender confession, wrapped in the promise of unending devotion.

Your heart swells with emotion, the intensity of his confession making your cheeks flush a deep crimson. The warmth that spreads across your face mirrors the fluttering sensation in your chest, making you feel both cherished and vulnerable. Gunil’s eyes twinkle with amusement, his laughter a gentle, loving sound that only deepens your blush.

In this moment, it becomes clear that the power dynamics are beautifully mutual. While you wield a tender influence over him, it’s equally true that he holds an undeniable grip on your heart. The thought of his effect on you, the way he can effortlessly bring a flush to your cheeks and a smile to your lips, fills you with a contented warmth. You wouldn’t dream of complaining about the hold he has on you; it’s a bond you cherish deeply, one that makes every touch, every word, all the more meaningful.

You wasted no time, your fingers curling around his throbbing length with a careful yet eager grip. The delicious girth of him filled your palm, a sensation that made you pause for a moment, savoring the warmth and weight of his desire. The simple touch elicited a deep, blissful groan from Gunil, causing him to momentarily throw his head back in sheer pleasure. His eyes, dark and intense, quickly snapped back to you, following your every move with a mix of anticipation and longing.

As you held him, your self-restraint slipped away, replaced by a primal desire to fully explore and enjoy the moment. Leaning in close, you allowed a deliberate drop of saliva to glide down onto the crimson-red tip of his length. The contrast of the cool, slick moisture against his heated skin caused a shiver of pleasure to run through him. You began to stroke him with a languid, almost lazy pace, yet the effect was anything but subdued. Each movement had Gunil gasping and grunting beneath you, his body reacting eagerly to the rhythm you set.

Watching him lose himself so easily in the pleasure you were giving him, a pang of nostalgia and longing settled in your chest. You recalled the last time you had seen him like this, a few months ago, before his comeback had taken him away for what felt like an eternity. The realization of how long it had been since you had shared such intimate moments together spurred you on with renewed urgency.

Quickening your pace, you used your free hand to press into his lower abdomen, holding him steady as his hips began to buck instinctively against your touch. The depth of his pleasure, the way his body responded to you, filled you with a sense of satisfaction and connection, making the moment all the more intense and precious.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Gunil chanted breathlessly, his voice a low murmur of desperation as beads of sweat began to glisten on his forehead. The pleasure building within him was palpable, each wave of sensation intensifying with every passing second. Just as he reached the brink, you abruptly abandoned the steady rhythm of your hand, causing a high-pitched whine to escape his lips—an instinctive sound of frustration and longing.

You let out a soft, teasing chuckle, shifting slightly on your knees to draw closer to him. Your fingers, now slick with his arousal, wrapped around his length once more. This time, however, your touch was deliberate and slow, as you hovered just above his sensitive tip. With a playful, lingering gaze, you pressed a gentle kiss to his aching head, eliciting a guttural moan from Gunil. His hips bucked upwards, driven by a desperate yearning to feel the warmth of your mouth enveloping him.

Without making him wait, you enveloped his tip with your lips, the warmth and wetness of your mouth sending shivers of pleasure through him. Your tongue darted out, teasing and tasting, as you slowly began to sink your head downward. Gunil’s moans grew louder, each sound a testament to the overwhelming pleasure you were bestowing upon him. As you descended further, your nose brushed against his pelvis, and you could feel the tip of his arousal touch the back of your throat. The sensation of him so deep within you only heightened the intensity of the moment, making the connection between you both even more profound and intimate.

Gunil’s fingers wove themselves into your hair, gripping gently yet firmly as he anchored you in place. The sensation of his touch, combined with the warmth of his arousal against your lips, was intoxicating. You luxuriated in the moment, savoring the long-awaited intimacy after such a lengthy separation. As you settled into the rhythm, you made sure to breathe through your nose and hollow out your cheeks, a subtle adjustment that heightened both your comfort and his pleasure.

“God, baby, I missed your mouth so much,” he groaned, his voice a deep rumble of need as he began to guide your head up and down his length. You acquiesced to his movements for a moment, allowing him to control the pace, feeling his pleasure build with each pass. However, a teasing glint flickered in your eyes as you decided to exert your own control. With a swift motion, you slapped his hand away and pulled back, a mix of his arousal and your saliva trickling past your lips. 

You wiped away the remnants with a deliberate, casual gesture before looking up at him with a stern yet gentle expression. “Tonight is about you relaxing, baby, so let me take care of you.” Your voice was soft but commanding, carrying the promise of indulgence. Gunil, whose disappointed whine echoed your withdrawal, nodded eagerly, his hips instinctively bucking upward in a desperate plea for your return. His eyes, clouded with a mix of desire and vulnerability, followed your every movement, silently begging for the intimacy you were poised to give.

For a few lingering moments, you admired the sight of Gunil completely consumed by his lustful desires, his every expression a testament to the pleasure you were giving him. With a delicate, practiced grace, you slid your mouth down his length until your nose brushed against his pelvis once again. This time, however, you were quick to lift your head, leaving only the tip of his arousal nestled in your mouth. 

As you resumed your rhythmic motion, your head bobbing up and down his leaking length, you allowed your tongue to dance and twirl around him, caressing every delicious vein with teasing precision. You lavished attention on his tip, sucking lightly while your tongue explored his slit, a touch that never failed to elicit a breathless cry from him. Gunil’s grip tightened on the couch cushions, his knuckles white from the strain as he fought to stay grounded.

In a shift of focus, you let your hand drift to his tightened balls, gently massaging them to enhance his pleasure. His reaction was immediate and profound; you noticed his eyes were thrown back, tightly shut, as he surrendered completely to the sensations. Gunil looked almost ethereal in this state—his chest heaving with each ragged breath, his mouth slightly agape with his tongue lolling to one side, and his muscles flexing as he refrains from taking away the control you'd so kindly requested.

The sight of him, so beautifully vulnerable and lost in ecstasy, stirred a deep ache of affection within you. Every subtle detail of his expression, every shudder of his body, made your heart swell with a yearning that was almost overwhelming. You knew, in that moment, that you wanted more—more of this intimacy, more of the exquisite connection that bound you together.

The escalating rhythm of your movements, coupled with the tender caress of your hand on his sensitive balls, quickly overwhelmed Gunil. The intensity of the moment, magnified by the prolonged separation, drove him to release a series of broken moans, each sound a testament to the powerful climax that consumed him. His grip on your head tightened, pressing you firmly against his pelvis as waves of pleasure washed over him. 

You felt the warmth of his release as it trickled down your throat, the sensation both satisfying and intensely arousing. The ache in your core grew more urgent, a desperate need that made you instinctively rub your thighs together in search of friction. It took several moments for Gunil to descend from his high, his breathing ragged and his body shivering with the aftershocks. As he finally loosened his grip, you pulled away from his softening length, savoring the lingering warmth that clung to your tongue. 

When Gunil’s eyes fluttered open, you made a deliberate show of displaying the remnants of his release before swallowing and sticking your tongue out to reveal its absence. His reaction was immediate—a deep, appreciative groan followed by a satisfied chuckle. With an affectionate tenderness, he leaned down to press a passionate kiss to your lips, a gesture that elicited a soft moan from you. His touch was gentle yet insistent as he pinched your chin lightly between his thumb and index finger, guiding you to look up at him. His gaze was filled with a love so intense it nearly took your breath away, and his smile radiated pure adoration.

“I know you said tonight was about me,” he murmured, his voice husky and roughened from pleasure, a sound that filled you with a deep sense of satisfaction. “But I missed you too much not to taste you as well.” With a swift, decisive movement, you gasped in delight as you were gently but firmly pushed onto the soft couch. Gunil now knelt eagerly before you, his gaze fixed on your drenched arousal with a hunger that mirrored the intensity of your own desires.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ 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!

wdym forgotten i literally could never forget you :((( you dont have to apologise though, its completely understandable that you needed time<3

ive been okay-ish ??? i think lol i had my ups and downs and now im just kinda meh but its alright hehe also uni has been quite fun actually for me and turns out im not that bad at my major as i thought🫡

also !! there's been a lot going on but the boys attended the met gala recently and im pretty sure theyre preparing for a comeback rn ^^

now !! tell me how have you been ???❤️

— 👒

you’re the absolute sweetest 🥹 i appreciate you so much thank you for all your support and understanding

i’m glad uní has been so good for you! you’re so smart my goodness, i love that <3

i did see the whole met gala thing! don’t they look dreamy? i also saw how disrespectful and racist the photographers were being and as a poc myself i was livid for them, especially when the boys understand english, especially chan and felix. but even with all of that, they all looked so handsome and pretty. and the comeback??? i barely survived the last one guys have mercy on me (please don’t).

i have been okay…i struggle a lot with school and im lowkey avoiding looking at my grades because i’m not sure what i’ll do after if they’re not good. my girlfriend and i are good, just separated (in distance? for the first time since january 5th last week so now i can’t sleep as well as i used to. and now im just home!