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hanibalistic · 6 months

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DRUNKEN WITH A SENSE OF LOVE | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | romance / drunken confessions / fake dating au

synopsis | you and hyunjin got drunk at different times, and you two took care of each other similarly.

word count | 7.1k+

warning | mentions of insecurity / brief allusion to sexual themes / alcohol and drunkenness

note | i changed almost everything about this.

Hyunjin has gotten himself etched to the back of your mind, and you genuinely did not like that.

You didn't blame him, though. If anything, you blame yourself for falling so head over heels for him.

For one, Hyunjin couldn’t help who falls in love with him. He couldn’t suppress his overwhelmingly good looks if he tried, which he never did. He enjoyed the positive attention, however shallow they often were. He also couldn’t put a pause on his decent personality, which came as a genuine surprise to you after you got to know him better through this fake dating scheme. You always thought beautiful people harbored the ugliest heart, out of envy and bitterness. Hyunjin wasn’t like that. You didn’t think he was, at least.

For two, you should have known better than to fall in love with a man leagues above your selection pool. People called it self-degradation, a lack of self-esteem, having no self-worth, and whatnot. You considered it a down-to-earth trait, a reality check, understanding your limits, and whatnot. Hyunjin was a boy you should fall in love with in moderation but never utterly, ardently, absolutely. You were, unfortunately, the latter.

For three, and this was the stupidest part, you two were temporarily dating. Hyunjin was honest when he approached you and said that his friends, at the ripe age of twenties and pursuing higher education, thought you were good enough to be the butt of a romantic joke. They had challenged him to chase you, get you into a relationship, and break your heart. It was a heinous and, frankly, childish game, but you agreed to it with him for the prize money.

It was worth it at that time. It was easy money! Who wouldn’t want that? You didn’t feel that way now. Pretending to be in a loving relationship with him has short-term perks but long-term losses.

Hyunjin was practically in you, etched to the back of your mind, tattooed on the inside of your skin, taken by your bloodied hands to the bottom of your grave. The degree to which your heart dropped for him was unexplainable by yourself. Therefore, having the excuse to go on dates and hold his hands in public, snuggle with him during outings with his friends, and maintain a pleasant friendship with him behind closed doors were great experiences. But when the time comes for separation, you will hurt, not merely over the breakup, but the reminder that he has never felt more for you, that your wonderful experience with him was just an experience.

Clumsy stumbling could be heard outside his apartment, and not a second later came a round of demanding knocks. Hyunjin's head perked up at the noise, his eyes wide in alert at the sudden banging. He looked at the door momentarily before finally looking over to the clock, his brows furrowing slightly at the late time. He waited to check if it could be a drunken stranger approaching the wrong door, but soon enough, another round of aggressive knocks sounded.

Holding the thought that it could just be his roommate, Han Jisung, coming back home late for yet another odd reason, and also praying inwardly that he wouldn't have to spend the night taking care of a loud, obnoxious, and very drunk Jisung, he made his way up and approached the door.

Flinging the door open, Hyunjin did a double-take before his annoyed expression morphed into one of surprise. His arm went slack against the wooden frame of the door, and he took an instinctive step forward when he saw your drunken state—your features were scrunched up in discomfort, your eyes squinted because astigmatism had taken over on your walk to the apartment building, and you were hunched over. You were not at all the way you used to look, not the way he was used to seeing you, which was always so presentable and well put together.

An amused smile appeared on his face as he eyed you up and down, wanting nothing more than to make fun of and tease you even without your ability to form the perfect retorts he has grown to be highly fond of. But you sniffed for a moment and took a step forward. In that exact second, you had Hyunjin doubling over to catch you before you could fall to the floor, concern lining up the crinkles of his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Woah, alright! Let’s stand slowly, okay?" he commanded gently, cooing at your side as if talking to a child.

His arms curled around your shoulder and waist with a protective grip, and he hoisted your weight by supporting you with his own. Pulling you into the apartment, he shut the door slowly with his feet before returning his attention to you, hoping to bring you to the couch where you could lie down and rest.

“Jeez, babe, how much did you drink?” he laughed, dragging your unresponsive body along with him.

You groaned lowly, trying your best to hold down the acidic taste rushing at the back of your mouth. You wouldn’t know it, but this was not what you had planned for the night. Your friends did their job sending you home safely. Who would have thought you’d leave your apartment shortly after just to stumble to Hyunjin’s home? It was a short distance from your place, but what a miracle you made it without any major accidents! And what a disaster you made it to his home while being high on alcoholic honesty!

You snapped your head up. You were at the perfect angle to stare at his side profile, allowing you the premium shot of his perfect jawline, luscious locks, beautiful lashes, button tip of his nose, and just the most kissable lips you have ever seen. A grimace reached your face. It was an instinctive response. His good looks indeed couldn’t hide even behind the blurriest of eyes. You thought if you lied to your body enough, your mind would follow, so you grimaced whenever you looked at him, hoping to start disliking him. It hasn’t worked.

"Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “Yes. That is me."

You gulped, still staring at him. Then, as you lowered your eyes to the floor, you leisurely suggested what’s been on your mind recently, “We should break up."

Of all the things you have done within these few months of him meeting you, including you agreeing to help him lie to his friends about this fake dating challenge to punching someone in the face for shaming his impulsive sex life, which you weren’t surprised he has, this one caught him off guard the most. This one also made him panic. It was fear, like sweaty hands and dry lips, like his mind racing with terrible thoughts, racing with made-up reasons as to why you would want that, racing with every single action he has done that could be counted as a mistake.

"Wh–what? Why do you–why? Why are we breaking up? We are fine. I didn't do anything–did I do something?" Hyunjin stuttered, unconsciously tightening his grip on your body before he let out a gentle but firm whisper, "No."

“I know, I am sorry. I don’t know–I’m just sorry,” you slurred, long stopped looking at him and instead was now leaning your entire weight against him like a wall. Your hands waved about in the air. "You are mad at me, aren't you? Of course–“ you snorted obnoxiously–“it’s a lot of money! I’ll pay you. Break up with me, don’t be mad.”

Hyunjin stared at you as you laughed manically. It sounded choked up, like you’ve got wet coughs prepared in your throat, but he could tell you were far from shedding tears, unlike good ol’ sensitive him, who remained in a state of anxiety and was still trying to process why you brought up separation. It wasn’t time for the fake dating to end. It was nowhere near it! To suggest breaking up so early must mean something was wrong with him, but what was? He couldn’t tell! To think he was just losing his mind over what to do once it was time for this fake relationship to end.

“Hyunjin,” you called him once when you noticed his silence. Looking up at him, you furrowed your brows and reached up to brush his face clumsily with your hand, pushing your fingertips against his skull. “Hyunjin? Hey. Answer me. Hey. Hello. Hyunjin!”

He leaned away from your aggressive touch, his shoulders relaxing at your playful antics. A smile formed uncontrollably on his lips when you doubled down on smearing your hands all over his face after his dodges. He was left haplessly struggling between missing your direct eyeball pokes and keeping you from falling to the ground. You grinned out loud; he mirrored it, and he didn’t hear the sound of your laughs mixing together because he hears it all the time.

“You are very drunk, [Name],” he managed to comment after grabbing both of your hands and keeping them at his face level. His tight-lipped smile sparkled when you attempted a struggle, like a parent reprimanding their child, then he moved your hands to your face and squeezed your cheeks together. Your lip jutted out in response. He leaned in to kiss your cupid’s bow. “You’re being silly. Let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed.”

The frown on your face made him nervous. His hands slowly slipped from your face, and your hands fell to your sides. You remained silent, and he let the clogs in your brain move. Your thoughts weren’t clear. The only thing you were sure of was that the man standing before you was Hwang Hyunjin, your temporary boyfriend, and you’d spent the whole night trying to drink your feelings for him away. You came to his apartment for a reason—you needed to break up with him for your own good.

“No, I can’t go to bed yet. I have something to do.” You yawned and waved an arm dismissively. You spoke before you finished yawning, leaving your words hanging in the air in slow motion. “I came to tell you something.”

Hyunjin’s hands curled into fists. He let go, tightened them, and let go again to alleviate the sweat gathering at his palms. You were surprisingly hell-bent on the topic, which led him to believe it went beyond a moment of drunkenness. It must have been a conclusion formed long ago, and you have just now mustered the courage to let him know. But why? What did he do? What did he not do?

He was more than nervous, if there was a word to describe the state of his heart. This was more than a personal problem, which he admittedly still has to work through, but far more significant than himself was you—his feelings for you, his immense affection for you, the fact that he loved you the way you warned yourself not to love him but did anyway. It wasn’t your fault. Your observant eyes, your sincerity, your care for him. It wasn’t your fault. He fell in love with you of his own accord.

If you left him, he would be like a dog without a leash, a dog without an owner. He would wander aimlessly, filled with rage and dread, sniffing every darkened corner for a whiff of your scent.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked meekly.

You sucked in a deep breath to counter your congested chest, then you shook your head in agreement. “Yes.”

You were very drunk. He shouldn’t take your words into consideration. “That’s fine,” he said as he stepped toward you, “can we get cleaned up and go to bed anyway? It’s very late.”

“No, I don’t want you touching me anymore.” You stepped back dramatically and hugged yourself into a protective stance. “It’s for the better.”

He wondered what that meant. Were you repulsed by him? Did you finally realize how disgusting his inability to stay away from sexual and romantic validation was? Were you ashamed to be associated with him because of his impulsive behavior? He was only good for a short time; did you come to that realization? You were too good for him. He always knew that.

Hyunjin retreated his hand from mid-air. His hands met before his abdomen, his fingers immediately picking at each other as he uncomfortably shifted his weight. The corner of his lips arched downward at your rejection, but he tried to keep them neutral so he wouldn’t be influenced into crying. There wasn’t much else he could do with himself if being near you was no longer an option. He looked lost and wronged; he felt so.

“[Name], did I do something?” he asked, rubbing his elbow awkwardly. “Why do you suddenly want to break up with me?”

You blinked at a random space on the wall. Sitting below your sight was a messy square table with unwashed cups, scattered papers, and a closed laptop. Even in a state of haze, you knew they didn’t belong to him. Hyunjin was more organized than that. He told you once it made his school experience much easier to have everything in one place: his computer, which you knew he often kept in his school bag. You sniffed; you knew him like the back of your hand.

“I can’t tell you,” you replied slowly, not looking at him. “It’s a secret.”

Hyunjin tilted his head. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He sounded convincing, so you gradually moved your eyes to access him. Standing in front of you, timid as a mouse, was Hwang Hyunjin. You knew that, and you knew that your secret was to be kept from him. Yet, somehow, all that did not register once you were engaged in a conversation with him. He was Hyunjin, just a person you were talking to. If he promised not to tell, then it should be fine.

“You promise?” you asked.

Hyunjin nodded. “I promise.”

You pouted with a glare, willing him to waver and show any sign of deception, but he stood his ground and waited for you to expose your deepest and darkest feelings to him. A faint grumble sounded from your mouth. You looked around briefly to check for any eavesdroppers before you walked a few tentative steps toward him, and you confessed, “I’m in love with you.”

It was like a shot through the heart, and the shot was aimed so successfully that the organ tore off its hinges and fell to his abdomen where his hands fiddled nervously with each other. It may be asking for an exit out of his body, it may be seeking its new owner, or it may come knocking boldly at your mouth and ask to fit inside you. Hyunjin remained perplexed at your confession. The confession had a bitter taste; he wasn’t sure what to make of it or if he deserved it from someone like you.

“[Name]…”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I am very in love with you. It’s stupid.”

He couldn’t tell, but you understood, despite a fogged mind, that letting him know your affection for him was a cause for your demise. Your emotions were in a whirlwind, collecting up the fragments of all the heart pieces you've broken because of Hyunjin and how you had confronted yourself multiple times with your own delusions that this wouldn't be like the movies. He would never fall in love with you just because you two got closer from months of fake dating.

Even then, he was empathetic to your body language, especially how much they mirrored his. His shoulders slumped at how you turned away from him to trail your attention off somewhere safer, where he wasn’t in your sight. Registering his beautiful face was hard for you because you couldn’t have him; processing his existence and your proximity to him was difficult because you could never have him. You turned away from him to further signify to yourself the assumed truth, your trembling fingers pulling at each other to avoid an awkward standstill.

Hyunjin was etched to the back of your brain. He was overwhelming, and he was far away. Unable to contain the sudden reminder that you were never going to get over him, a rush of tears started to tremble their way up to your eyes. Your face scrunched without remorse, and your head dropped near your shoulders alarmingly quickly that it startled him.

“I love you, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. It made him panic. “Please break up with me.”

“Why are we breaking up if you love me, silly?” he forced a laugh once he approached you.

His lanky arms were clumsy and gentle after he pulled at his sweater sleeves to wipe your tears. They hovered awkwardly over your face, gauging how much strength to use to effectively dry your eyes but not push you any further away from him. He cooed a bunch of nonsense, but they were sweet like sleepy kisses on your hands. Eventually, he cupped your face and wiped your eyes with his thumbs. You let him; he made you laugh when he apologized for using too much force, even though he never did.

“You don’t love me, Hyunjin,” you muttered.

“Nonsense,” he retorted within a second, “who said that?”

You didn’t reply, so he stood with his arms raised for a whole minute while you leaned the weight of your head against his palms. He thought it terribly horrific that he ought to remember the shape of your face with his slender fingers because of his inability to sew his skin into yours. If his hands were like superglue, he could be attached to you forever—your face, your features, you, his most favorite thing in the world. His hands would burn, but what of it? Better you scorch him than to never be touched by you at all.

“Hyunjin,” you called when you were finished zoning out.

“Mhm?”

“I love you. I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m so ugly.”

Growing up being valued for his beautiful features taught him to devalue it. He didn’t care for it. He wouldn't cry about it if he were to earn a permanent scar across his face. Yet, even then, if he were to have one, he was sure people would rave about how the scar ruined his face rather than talk about how he obtained it. Except for you. You’d ask about it, like you always asked everything about him.

The kind of person you were, his most favorite person in the world—you were detailed like that, and you made him feel an essence of humanity others didn’t. With you, he wasn’t ethereal, he wasn’t a God, he wasn’t an angel fallen to Earth. He didn’t have to be because you never put him on some miraculous pedestal. He was just Hwang Hyunjin; his favorite food is his mother’s cooking, he makes clumsy mistakes and looks funny when he does, and he enjoys making art.

Not a model, not God’s favorite, not pretty. Just a boy, and he’s in love with you.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m ugly too.”

He didn’t deny your false claims; you were the prettiest he had ever known, but only he needed to know that. When there comes a time for him to praise and worship your physical body, he will. For now, there wasn’t anything much he wanted to say in return. Just that he was the same as you.

Your souls didn’t collide that way, obviously. You two were completely different people with varying hobbies and friend groups. However, Hyunjin was willing to chase you like Hell to meet where you were. There wasn’t anything he wanted to be if he couldn’t be it with you. Whatever you are, he is.

There was another long pause. Hyunjin patiently waited, tender eyes concentrated on each crevice of your face as he stroked your stained cheeks with his thumb. You didn’t say anything more, only slapping your hands over his and pulling them from your face. He thought you were moving away, but you took a step forward instead and dove into his arms. You hugged him around his neck, hanging off him like a sloth. He chuckled, swaying you side to side. You were tired, he knew.

“It’s getting late, baby,” he whispered, leaning back to watch your closed eyes and laughing. He ran a hand through your hair multiple times, getting a clearer view of your face. “Let’s clean up and go to bed, okay?”

You groaned and muttered in response. He didn’t hear what you said. He kept sweeping your hair back. Supporting you with his weight, you were heavy, but he didn’t mind. You wouldn’t be able to change your clothes by yourself, so he would help you. It’d be sloppy and slow, and he wouldn’t mind. You would take up most of the bed, sprawled out without a clue that you weren’t sleeping in your apartment. Your body heat would scratch up a fever in him, and he wouldn’t mind. He enjoyed taking care of you.

Staring at him as he stroked your hair, you pouted before uttering three familiar words, “I love you.”

Hyunjin smiled. Whatever you are, he is. He kissed your nose and your eyes. He told you he loves you too.

It was one of those nights when Hyunjin couldn’t spend time with you, and you were unreasonably disappointed about it.

You slouched atop the couch you got at a flea market, which Hyunjin had to convince you to get after repeatedly reassuring you that there wouldn’t be any actual fleas hiding in the creases. This uncomfortable position resulted from five hours of continuous mumbling about how you should not be upset that Hyunjin didn’t choose to spend the night with you, which he had done the past few weeks. He has been somewhat clingy lately, and you couldn’t imagine why. You thought your act was good. There was no way his friends doubted you.

This could be the calm before the storm. Even though you two had concocted a detailed timeline for your fake dating, you wouldn’t be surprised if Hyunjin abruptly cut it short. If that was true, his current sweetness was nothing more than a buildup to a dramatic and convincing breakup.

Pouting in dismay, you rolled up the bag of chips and reached for the tea table beside you, your fingertips wiggling to graze past the black binder clip you used to keep the plastic bag sealed. Amid your frustrated groaning, still refusing to get your ass off the couch even after more than ten seconds of struggling, the doorbell suddenly rang, and coming after that were loud bangs at your door.

A shiver ran down your spine as you snapped your head toward the direction of the noise, your brows rising abruptly at the fearful intrusion. Slowly throwing your chip bag on the table, you stood up and tip-toed your way over to the door where you pressed your hands to the wooden surface and carefully looked through the peephole.

A gasp caught in your throat when you saw Hyunjin’s face standing just a few inches away from the circle as if leaning against the door for support. You immediately moved out and unlocked your door, swinging it open to reveal him fully. Taking a good look at his face before he started to throw his little drunken tantrum—messy hair, concentrated brows, droopy eyelids, and a general look of discomfort—you concluded that he definitely has been downing more shots than he could handle.

“What happened to you?”

You stepped up to put your hands on either side of his arm, carefully bringing him into your apartment. He stumbled with most of his weight straining on your shoulder. There were so many stutters in his steps that you almost dragged him into a fall with you on your way to the couch. After setting him down, he snorted at the cushy feeling of your couch. It took him a while to process the new environment, and then he arched his neck to find you.

Hyunjin could barely make out your face. He couldn’t even be sure if he went to your apartment, but subconsciously, he could tell he was at your place. He felt it in your timid touches just now, and whatever scent he whiffed out of the air, it smelt like you. Licking his lower lip as his worries slowly faded away and his attention—as much as he could muster—returned, he mumbled a string of incoherent noises under his breath before he, much to your palpitating heart’s dismay, pulled you onto the couch next to him.

He got on top of you; his legs had to bend in weird ways to accommodate the small couch, and he placed his palms on either side of your head to trap you under him. You felt heat forming on your cheeks as you shrunk beneath his shadow, your eyes widening at the proximity. Hyunjin has never done this before. The closeness wasn’t new, but the position of it was. Being under him was an unbelievable feeling. He looked beautiful, and his toned muscles became more visible by supporting his own weight. How your thoughts were smeared! You doubted your body would forget how well he could cage you in.

Hyunjin stared at you with a low, drunken hum. Then, suddenly, he leaned down to meet your face.

“[Name],” he started, lowering his head tiredly to your shoulder, “you wanted to break up with me?”

You blinked up at the ceiling, confused, but you figured it could be the alcohol talking for him, so you chose to disregard all the questions that popped into your head. Holding out your arms to push against his chest, you attempted to sit up. “I don’t want to break up with you, Hyunjin.”

He seemed to be processing your answer as he allowed you to set him aside and give yourself more space. You sat quietly next to him, letting him have the time to think over what he wanted to say. The thoughtful pout on his face told you it was difficult for him to use his brain, but it looked cute enough that you almost took a picture to tease him about it once he got sober. You wondered if his response would be nonsense as well.

“Why do you want to break up with me?” he whispered, causing you to sigh. He hasn’t heard you, after all. His lips were pursed into a frown, and his eyes were squinted to show that he was very close to leaking a few tears down his cheeks, but you couldn’t read between the lines and realize what his despair meant. Hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he abruptly turned to you and sniffed. “You can’t do that to me. I won’t–I won’t let you do that to me.”

You tilted your head to the side, your brows constantly furrowed. Where was he getting this idea from? You tried to recall any off-handed comments you made. Still, they were primarily directed elsewhere and never at your fake relationship. You’ve never said anything bad about him, not to him, and never behind his back. There wasn’t anything outstandingly mean to say anyway, so what sprung this on?

Returning to reality, your head faintly shook as you looked up at Hyunjin to ask his drunken state about the reason behind this outburst. Your eyes widened instead when you saw he had taken his shirt off, the lump of fabric discarded on the floor carelessly. Heat blossomed at the base of your neck, and you felt your joints sour in panic; seriously, what sprung this on! This was a much bigger issue than drunkenness!

When you noticed his hands reaching to the belt of his jeans, you immediately lunged toward him and circled his wrists to stop his movements. Your panic became a surprised concern at his need to strip naked in your apartment. You doubted he wanted to show you his body. Even if he did, this wasn’t how you wanted to do it.

Moving his hands away, you urged, “No. We’re not doing that.”

“No, I have to! I have to!”

He snatched his hands away from yours and dove to unbuckle his belt again. His movements grew increasingly frustrated the more you blocked his attempt to remove his pants. You were annoying, but he wasn’t angry at you. He was scared. He wasn’t getting what he wanted, and he thought you might leave him if he didn’t show you what he could offer. It scared him that you didn’t want to see him whole, so eventually, he began to sob.

“I have to show you, [Name]. Please let me!” Hyunjin whined, hands tugging harshly at each other by his chest.

“You don’t have to show me anything,” you assured as you grabbed a few tissues from the tea table. You dabbled softly at his eyes. “Come on, let’s put your clothes back on.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks like knives against your skin. He felt uncomfortable at this unfamiliar sequence. Things usually go smoothly after he reveals himself. Nobody has ever refused to see him, so why did you? What about himself was so repulsive that you couldn’t take one look at his bare skin? Why didn’t you love him back?

“No.” he slurred, then paused to catch his breath.

The moment of calm was gone too soon. His hands reached up to ruffle his hair in a frenzy. His heart hammering against his chest, yet his brain wasn’t sane enough to understand what the sudden panic was about, just that it had something to do with you. That obliviousness, as a result, was making him even more agitated.

“You need to love me again!” he exclaimed, eyes brimming with unknown tears. “People love me when I take my clothes off. You need to love me again!”

A puff of air slowly made its way out of your half-parted lips. You could feel the stretching of your heartstrings. Hyunjin cried as he shrank into himself, his arms going around his cold body for a sense of comfort, and the sight toyed with your head by sending waves of deep anguish like mere laps of the ocean. The feeling deranged you—to realize Hyunjin experiences such a level of hopelessness and loneliness was heartbreaking. More importantly, you felt ignorant of his problems. You should have been a better friend, perhaps even a better lover.

“Hey,” you called out gently as you scooted toward him. You brought one hand up to his face to direct his eyes to you. You smiled softly when you found that he was opening his squinted eyes to stare back. “I’m going to get something, so wait here for me, okay?”

He sniffed, tasting the tears rolling down his mouth, and nodded. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, ever so gingerly placing a hand at the small of his back, hoping to calm him down, but it turned out Hyunjin had a thought of his own. After feeling the warmth of your hand, he took it as a sign that you wanted to hug him, so he obliged immediately by wrapping his arms around your torso and putting his head on your shoulder.

You breathed a small chuckle when he made weird noises after finding a space at the crook of your neck. The transition from him throwing a tantrum to having a mini panic attack to being the clingiest person you have ever met was amusing. As was the transition from your mind being filled with annoyance and confusion to having your feelings torn into shreds to breathing out a chuckle. It was entertaining, and the fact that Hyunjin could bring out so many different aspects of your emotions was undeniably endearing.

He was that kind of person. He has always been. More than beautiful, he was expressive, selfless, and tender-minded. Watching him allowed you to live an emotional life vicariously. All the things you ignored in the past because of mental stress were repainted in colors by his hands. The movie you never watched, the ice cream you never tried, the districts you never visited, and the fireworks show you never stayed for—everything meant something to Hyunjin, so everything meant something to you.

To him, love was a grave of sacrifices. Of his time, his space, his body, and his mind. He was willing to give, and he has given you all except one. You wouldn’t know any of it.

You moved to the back of the couch, cautiously pressing your back up against the edge. Hyunjin followed you, shifting his position so he lay stuffed against your chest with your arms around his shoulders. His fingers played with each other shyly on top of his bare chest as he looked around your apartment absentmindedly. He couldn’t register anything but the fabric of your clothes and how small you made him feel.

He finally looked at you after a moment. His cries had long ceased and left only trails of dry tears on his dearest cheeks. With his eyelashes still wet, glittering beautifully in the air, he blinked, his eyes widening after he found out you had been looking down at him. Suddenly, he grinned childishly with a hint of sun hidden in his smile. “What are you looking at?”

You hummed, finding Hyunjin utterly irresistible even with his tear-stained cheeks and slurred laughter. He was all messy and puzzling, but your heart pushed against itself to give him space to stay inside. “I’m looking at you, silly.”

“Oh, you’re looking at me.” He giggled, covering half his face with his hands and shutting his eyes shyly. He squirmed around in your arms, but not once did he move far enough to not feel you against him. When he was done, he returned back to the original position, and he peeked an eye through the gap between his fingers. He laughed. “ I am looking at you too.”

“I know you are,” you said, fingers threading through his feathery locks with serenity, and a smile so heartwarming that Hyunjin couldn’t help but focus his sight on it.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes shaky.

You pursed your lips together and shrugged. “I can’t tell you. It is a secret.”

Hyunjin’s gaze hardened naively, a gasp ripping through his throat as he leaned back against your hand. “Tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

“You promise?”

“I promise!” he exclaimed, sitting up slightly and bumping his forehead against your chin. He burst into a fit of giggles then, rubbing his forehead for a while before reaching the same hand out to touch your chin sloppily. “I’m sorry, I hit your face.”

“It's okay,” you said, your thumb soothing against the spot he had bumped into you. “But you promise me you can keep a secret? It’s very important!”

He nodded eagerly. “I promise!”

“Okay,” you said as you looked up at the sky, pretending to think. “The reason why I am looking at you is really simple. It is because I love you.”

You glanced back down at him to find him looking at you in astonishment. He licked his lower lip. His mind cleared a little for the first time, and he felt all of the universe that was your body pressed close to him. Beyond that, there were more minor things. Your heart beat faster than his, making him chase after you like a madman; the warmth of your skin equated to the warmth he manually cultivated in his bed by stacking multiple blankets together, an attempt to replicate your presence at night; your soft voice, going through his blurry ears, sounded like the subconscious voice he hears all the time. Maybe his subconscious was all just you.

Those were all fragments of proof of how much he loved you. To think you returned his feelings—he didn’t know what to think.

“Really?” He sounded so surprised. It was almost heartbreaking.

“Yes,” you nodded, “even when we both have clothes on.”

He looked down and touched your shirt. “Oh, you are wearing a shirt.”

“Yes, I am.”

He gazed at it briefly before, with an invisible shrug, leaned his cheek against your chest. “You’re warm. I like it.”

You smiled, feeling like your lips were about to extend out of your cheeks to become wider. “You’re cold because you took your shirt off!”

He scoffed and said nothing. Hyunjin was unguarded and half-stripped before you, chastely snuggling up against your chest while slurred words spilled out of his mouth like a mantra. You didn’t try to understand him; he wasn’t looking to have a conversation. You just wanted to lay together without a thought or a worry. Occasionally, he would sit up just to look at your face, then hum and lay back down, continuing to rot.

It was such a wondrous thing.

“Do you want to wash up and go to bed?” you asked. “Are you tired?”

“No. I want to stay here. I like it here.”

Hyunjin let out a dreamy sigh. He threw his head back with a smile, his hair hitting your jaw and sprawled over the crook of your neck. He tilted his head then, letting it fall along your shoulder. His eyes were closed with bliss, and he laughed to himself. When he opened his eyes, there was only the shadow of your side profile, which was good for him. He wanted to kiss the skin, filled with close-up bumps and blemishes. It was a side profile he’ll know for the rest of his life, and he’ll whisper ‘I love you’ to a million times.

“I have a secret to tell you,” he mentioned.

You raised a brow, intrigued, and urged him to continue, “What is it?”

He bit his lower lip and scurried off your body. You sat up straighter then, watching as he stumbled over to the front door for the bag he discarded on the ground. He crouched to pull a small notebook out easily before returning to you. He stopped by the couch, his eyes concentrated as he stared at the notebook's cover. Then, without another word, he dropped back onto your body and made you wrap your arms around him like before.

“I draw you all the time. In my sketchbook.”

He grinned out loud in the same way you would grin at him. His fingers played with the blank pages before, finally, he arrived at one filled with traces of his pencil. You gasped. He wasn’t spilling nonsense. The page was filled with beautiful sketches of your face, and so was the next one and the next. He kept flipping his notebook, and everywhere you could find pieces of yourself dotted out sincerely by his hand.

They didn’t look to come from memories, but they were definitely from moments not even you could remember. But Hyunjin remembered everything because he detailed it all in the lines. His inability to not consume all of you tied his hands together and made you his ultimate muse. Almost unconsciously, for a while, the only thing he knew to draw was you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t know how else to pour you out of his mind.

It was overwhelming, and you could see that. He was showing you all his blood work: mornings spent missing you with the tip of a crooked pencil, afternoons spent recalling your features in his head, nights spent tracing your face with his lead-filled fingers under a desk lamp. If he could inhale these sketches of you into his bloodstream and poison himself with those images, leaving an organ tattoo of your presence, he would.

“I love this one,” he said, pointing at a full-body sketch of you. “I was waiting for you at the coffee shop, and you were walking towards me. I love it. I was so excited to see you. I memorized what you wore.”

This sketchbook stayed with him all the time; he felt like he was bringing you with him, like a kid refusing to let go of their blanket. You wouldn’t know anything about that. The beautiful boy in your arms admired you constantly, from the farthest corner of his soul to the tip of his button nose, and you wouldn’t know anything about it.

“I draw you all the time,” he added. “I will never forget what you look like, but I always want to remember.”

The implications of that didn’t fly over your head. His addition to telling you the truth disabled your ability to attribute the fact that he draws you in his free time to him being artistic. But more than being afraid of rejection, you feared a mutual connection. The only thing worse than you finding Hyunjin loveable was him finding that you were as well.

“Do you know why?” he asked, looking at you expectantly.

You wavered. You hadn’t spoken since he showed you his sketches. “Why?”

Hyunjin stared at you. Within the drunken fog of his eyes, there was earnestness. “Because I love you too.”

You didn’t know what to say, and you wouldn’t. There was solace in choosing to believe that he didn’t mean it. When tomorrow arrives, and he returns sober, you wouldn’t speak of this conversation at all. When night comes tomorrow, and he’s had a full day of rest, Hyunjin would vividly recall how you took care of him and told him you loved him, and he would draw you again.

“Do you like them?”

His question snapped you out of your trance. Your sight blurred through a sudden quake before it focused on his face. Hyunjin pouted, his fingers tapping patiently at his notebook for your response. You softened with love and squeezed him in a hug, a smile blooming on your face.

“I’ve never liked anything more,” you complimented, “except for you!”

His legs kicked when you nuzzled your face to the back of his neck. His heart filled, like the sun could fill up a piece of land and the moon could fill up a river, and in return for his joy, he let out a boisterous laugh. He didn’t hear how it sounded with yours. Still, it was such a wondrous thing. Your love was such a wondrous thing.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz x y/n #skz x oc #skz x you #skz x reader #stray kids x oc #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids x gender neutral reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you

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dean-a-mean-tae · 6 months

Text

Sleeping Where I Shouldn't | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

Nicholas has a habit of falling asleep. Getting his makeup done, laying on one of the boys, during a Vlive, and many more examples. I made a compilation of times we saw Nick sleeping in the background. - random fan | Or 3 times the camera caught Nicholas sleeping, and the 1 time they didn't.

(@cafekitsune made the dividers)

1. Sleepy Lives

Chris was filming a Chan's Room episode. He was in the middle of answering someone's question about Nicholas, ironically, when he caught someone's comment.

"Nick is asleep?" Chris repeated, tilting his head in confusion. He watched the comments pour in. All talking about Nicholas falling asleep during his live.

"Wait, he's live now?" Chris asked, laughing softly as he grabbed his phone. Quickly, he checked Nick's live and laughed at the sight: Nicholas leaning on his folded arms with his hood halfway off his head. Someone placed a box of hair clips next to him.

"He was talking about me?" Chris asked, looking at someone saying 'He fell asleep talking about you'

Just then, his door opened, and in peeked a laughing Jisung.

"Are you live?" The younger asked, looking between Chan and whoever was outside.

"Yeah, what happened?" Chris laughed.

"Nick fell asleep and now Hyunjin and Felix are putting clips in his hair," Jisung laughed, screaming when Jeongin yanked him back outside.

2. Driving Sleep

After a long day of work, everyone was headed home. Hyunjin, Felix, Minho, and Nicholas were in the same car. Minho is recording from his seat in the front, with Hyunjin and Felix sitting in the middle. Nicholas was eating a cookie in the far back.

"Look at them." Minho angled the camera at the trio behind him. Hyunjin waved while Felix giggled out 'Hello!'

"Is he sleeping?"

They both turned around. Nick was lying with his head back, a cookie in his mouth, and his left arm across his lap. The container of cookies pressed against his thigh by his hand.

"Nick?" Hyunjin called, flinching when Minho hit him. He glared at a laughing Felix before looking at Minho.

"Be quiet!" The older whispered. He turned the camera and zoomed in on Nick's face, laughing softly when the cookie crumbled out of his mouth.

3. Backstage Naps

They'd just gotten off stage, sweaty and tired, immediately sitting on the closest furniture. Jisung and Jeongin collapsed onto a couch with Nicholas lying across them. His legs propped onto Jisung's lap and his torso across Jeongin's body, head tucked into his neck. The trio were asleep with a fan pointed towards them.

In front of them, on the floor, was Chan. His head leaned back against Jisung's leg with his hand raised limply held in Nicholas' hand.

1. Practice Depletion

"I can't tell who looks smaller, Changbin or Nicholas."

Minho, Jisung, Seungmin, and Jeongin stood over Changbin and Nicholas in the practice room. They could hear Chan, Hyunjin, and Felix laughing at them from their spots on the floor.

Changbin lay on the floor with Nicholas curled beside him, both asleep. Nick lay on his side, back pressed into Changbin's side, in a fetal position. One of Chanbin's arms lay under Nicholas' head as a pillow against the hard floor.

Nicholas Ross Master List

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: …

#deantae nicholas ross #skz 9th member #stray kids 9th member #skz x 9th member #skz x reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x male reader #stray kids imagines #skz scenarios #skz x oc #stray kids x oc #stray kids with the 9th member #stray kids extra member #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids scenarios

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sunnytyun · 6 months

Text

EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT IM A GOOD GIRL OFFICER

officer bangchan drabbles *drools*

warnings: a little suggestive

lower case intended

i feel like chan would be the type of police officer who'd be kind enough to let you go... so he could keep you to himself.

he pulls you over for some reason you didn't know, since you were only a little tipsy. he knocks on your window, and you open it, fixing your hair so you could look a little presentable. but he has already caught it, he knew you were not sober. he lets you out of it though, because the light flush on your cheeks and your slurring words made you look so vulnerable and pretty. he could do anything he wanted to do to you, and no one would even know. he feels guilty thinking about these things but he just can't help himself.

he would hold your chin with his fingers, turning you to look his way. because the way you kept blinking up at him innocently, desperately trying to get out of the mess made him want to dominate you to no extent. he knew what you were trying to do, and he was surprised that it was actually working so well. at one point, he even lets you out of the car, smiling to himself as you stumble in your steps. he pushes your front to the car door, handcuffing your hands behind your back. he lets you think that he was arresting you, and he loved seeing the way you gasped and mewled at his every action. your eyes water as he put you in his police car, but he was only taking you to his own house, so he could take care of poor you himself :((((

"do you know why I pulled you over, miss?" "oh no, sweetheart, you don't seem sober." "oh yeah? so you're a good girl, huh?" "well, good girls don't end up in the back of my car, sweetheart." "don't worry, baby... gonna take care of you. gonna take care of you so good."

#bangchan #bangchan drabble #skz #skz oneshots #bangchan imagines #bangchan oneshots #skz x oc #bangchan x reader #skz imagines #skz smut #skz fluff #bangchan smut #bangchan fluff #case 143 #stray kids #stray kids oneshot #stray kids smut

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jinnie-ret · 7 months

Note

hii, its the anon who asked about lgbtq+ readers.

what i had in mind was a nonbinary 9th member who uses they/them pronouns and interviewers and talk how hosts etc keep misgendering them and using the wrong pronouns, saying how theyre the only female member. the boys are the one to keep adamantly correcting them, no matter how many times they have to do it. the reader would be annoyed at the interviewers but glad the boys had their back, maybe the boys reassuring them at the end.

obviously only write it if you feel comfortable, thank you for answering my original ask!! your writing is great and a big comfort, i honestly think youd be great at writing it but this is your blog and only write what you feel comfy writing <333

who I am

stray kids x ninth member non-binary!reader (platonic)

genre: angst, fluff

content warnings: ignorant interviewer, misgendering

word count: 1.4k

summary: the boys support y/n for who they are, and show them that they truly have their back when a podcast goes wrong.

Thank you so much! Ok! I finally wrote it! I hope that this brings you great comfort like my other fics do too! And please give me feedback that this was written okay because I would never want to misrepresent anyone or their feelings in my writing.

As always, like, reblog if you enjoyed, and my asks are open for any requests you may have. And let me know if you'd like to be tagged when I post :)

MAIN MASTERLIST

"Welcome back to the podcast! Today we have a special guest, or guests, should I say, Stray Kids! Everyone give it up for Stray Kids!" the interviewer, Oscar, introduces us, the camera panning to us all sat in a cosy studio setting. We were currently in LA promoting our new album.

"Thank you inviting us!" Bang Chan says bashfully. We all knew of the podcast, well, us English speakers did, and we were so excited to be on the show.

"So, let's get right into it, you're here to talk about your new album, right?" Oscar smiles, looking down at his notes before asking us the question.

"Yeah, we've just released our new album 5STAR, and we hope that our fans enjoy it, and, yeah!" Felix begins to explain, smiling as he trails off, not knowing what else to add on. You give him a rub on the shoulder, letting him know that he was doing a good job. That's what you loved about being in Stray Kids, no matter who you were, you had each other's backs.

"It really is so cool to have you all here, and may I say, this really is a unique bunch of members you have here," Oscar waves his hands as he explains.

"Well, we like to think that we all bring something different to the table haha," you laugh along politely.

"Well, that's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about, Y/N," Oscar turns his body towards you slightly.

The others go 'ohhh', making you blush slightly.

"You want to ask me?" you brush your hair back, your newly cut black mullet, which went down a treat with stays.

"Yes, the reason I say you're in quite a unique situation, is because, well, it's so rare to see 8 guys and a girl in one group together!" Oscar smiles.

Oh.

Your smile dropped.

Maybe you had gotten your hopes up, thinking he'd be talking about your input on the fashion of the group, considering it was quite well known, especially with the group's growing popularity that you created many of the pieces that yourself and the boys would wear.

But no. Somehow you didn't think that this topic would be brought up once again.

"Stray Kids is family, no matter what," Hyunjin spoke up, communicating as best he could in English that gender didn't matter.

The boys could sense your discomfort at Oscar blatantly calling you a girl. Surely he's done enough research that he knows you identify differently?

Even the less confident English speakers, Lee Know and Jeongin seemed to catch on what was happening.

"And what an interesting family you are indeed," Oscar didn't notice your unease or the slightly more defensive stances that the boys acquired from their seats.

"I also wanted to comment that I think Y/N is my bias, you guys!"

Seeming to think there was a more lighter mood in the room, Y/N themself to relax a bit and laugh along.

"Come on boys, don't be jealous, I just think she's got this special quality about her," Oscar continued, thinking the frowns on your members' faces were playfully jealous of his comment.

"They are very special to us, we feel lucky to have them in our group," Han spoke up, subtlely linking his pinkie with yours as a form of comfort. The boys knew that such situations like this still hurt you, because of how you struggled to understand why you felt different and finally knew why, it was frustrating when other people, who were clearly in a position to do some research, didn't know.

Of course you'd give the benefit of the doubt, maybe he didn't know and he might be apologetic, in which case it would all smooth over.

But it wasn't in this case.

"Actually, Oscar, Y/N is non-binary," Chan began, looking towards you to see if you wanted to continue.

"Yes, I use they/them pronouns and don't identify as either male or female, I'm just, me," you shrug it off and say casually, because that's how you felt it should be. It wasn't a big deal,.it was just who you are.

"Oh wow, that's quite interesting, so you don't look at it like she's your younger sister? Or you don't think that as a boyband you have a disadvantage having a female member?" Oscar furrowed his brows.

"We don't feel the need to recognise our member by a gender," Seungmin grabbed the mic provided by the studio and calmly spoke into it, it almost fully calmed you down, his soft voice as he spoke in English filling the room.

"It doesn't matter. We are a group. Just a group of people who like making music and entertaining our stays, and that's how they like it, so..." Felix's knee bobbed up and down, and you couldn't tell if the ray of sunshine was slowly turning into a thundercloud or if he was nervous to speak his mind. You were thankful either way.

"Right... I mean, it's funny, it must be weird, like having her as a novelty to the group, almost?" Oscar said genuinely, like he didn't see an issue in how he was conducting himself.

"They are best," Jeongin threw a cheeky smile your way, making the weight on your shoulders feel just a little bit lighter.

"We're a unit. A team. I mean, it's funny, we don't feel the need to separate ourselves based on gender," Chan passive aggressively said, using the man's previous words to show he would not take anymore ignorance to how his member was being treated.

"Look, I don't expect people to understand straight away, but I can appreciate them looking at me not just for what I believe is a socially constructed view, one that I don't align with, but for my talent," you slowly explained, nerves filling your body as you hoped the way that you had explained yourself had made sense and would get a message across to the interviewer.

"See, that's something I think would bring even more attention to your success! Y/N do you think that creating this facade has brought you more fans?" Oscar questioned, his kind intentions slipping away.

"Excuse me?" you were taken aback. Facade? He thought that you were pretending?

"Hyung? We can go now? Yeah, ok, great. We'll be leaving now, thank you for your time, I think," Chan sarcastically smiled at Oscar after getting the green light from their manager that they could leave.

"So, that wraps up our interview with Stray Kids today..."

You sighed as you all got into the van, leaving the studio all together. You sat in the back with Lee Know and Changbin.

"What did he say at the end?" Lee Know questioned, rubbing your knee soothingly.

"That I'm a fake," you scrunch your face, looking at the ceiling of the car to trap your tears and avoid them from escaping.

"He has no idea what he's talking about, Y/Nnie," Changbin turned to you as best he could at the back of the van.

"I just wish I could feel normal, but sometimes it's things like this that just alienate me from everyone else, you know?" you sigh, tapping your leg with your fingers to distract yourself.

"You're far from an alien, Y/N. We don't care about what other people say, you're a part of us. Chan hyung was right, we're a unit, and we'll stay as one forever," Hyunjin reassured you.

"Plus, if anyone is an alien, it's Hannie," Seungmin savagely chuckled.

"I'M AN ALIEN ON THIS EARTH!!!" Han took that as his cue to sing his song loudly, causing you to groan and cover your ears.

"Someone help him return to his home planet," you giggled, making the other boys laugh along with you.

"Seriously though, we've got you, hm? Stupid interviewers like that have no respect..." Jeongin shook his head, feeling irritated.

"He was nice at the start..." you trailed off, thinking about Oscar's bright personality which was for sure what brought in viewers and listeners of the podcast.

"But then he showed his true colours, he was rude, you didn't deserve the disrespect, end of," Chan said from the front of the car, making his voice a little louder than normal so everyone could hear.

"Thanks, Channie," you smiled, the two boys in the back of the car with you letting you relax against them as the stress seemed to leave your body.

They had your back, always.

tagged: @skz-streamer @hannahhbahng @backintomykpopphaseagain @kiraisastay

#skz #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fic #stray kids imagines #non binary reader #skz x non binary reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x oc #stray kids x non binary reader

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

Text

lay me down gently

KSM

Masterlist

3/8 of The Sleepwear Series

wc: 4.5k

Synopsis: No one understands him the way you do, and he can't help the things you make him feel.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, sub!seungmin, oral (f receiving), furniture humping, scratching/marking, slight orgasm denial, master/pup/puppy, breeding, is this considered pet play? serious question, nice lil aftercare cus its what everyone deserves

He writes in his journal every day, without fail. Not a single soul has seen what it is Seungmin writes about, but he can sit there for a few minutes or a few hours jotting away. He started doing it a little bit after debut, there’s a pile of finished journals all dated in the corner of his room. Of course, the boys asked about what it is he spends so much time writing about, but Seungmin never gives them a straight answer.

Then he met you.

For the past four years, he never skipped a page unless truly necessary. Now, his journal has been sitting on his desk for five months entirely untouched to the point that it was collecting dust.

“I don’t get how airplanes work.”

Seungmin had a towel wrapped around his waist and another rubbing his hair dry as he entered his bedroom. You were laying on your stomach on his bed, scrolling away as he spoke.

“You travel for a living and you don’t know?” You respond, lightly laughing and pulling up google to search for the answer. As you typed you spoke aloud, “how do airplanes fly?”

Your boyfriend tossed the handheld towel into the hamper and hopped on top of the covers next to you, staring up at the ceiling. “I never thought about it before. Now that I have, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Baby, have I ever told you that you think too much?” He turns his head to look at you, then down at your phone.

“Once or twice.”

Google to save the day once again. “Here, something about pressure and the shape of the wings. I never took physics in school.” You handed him the phone and watched as he read over the answer.

“I still don’t get it. How does it stay in the air?” Seungmin used your phone to look closer.

These were usually questions he had for his journal, some deeper than others. A lot of those questions went unanswered and it bothered him to no extent, keeping Seungmin in a constant state of skepticality over anything and everything. Why he never thought to just look up the answer before you, he didn’t know. But now that he has you, he doesn’t stay up at night wondering alone anymore.

You watch as he ponders deeper into the internet. Silken, makeupless features were lit up in the dim glow, charming and lovely as ever. Seungmin always had the smoothest skin, you couldn’t help but pinch at it as he continued to read.

The book on his desk just a few feet away beckoned you to ask another question, “why don’t you write anymore?”

Seungmin barely glanced at the desk, lingering his gaze on you, “I have no need for it.”

“The guys used to tell me you would threaten to beat them up if they even looked at it.”

“I say the same thing about you.” It was so casual how the charm just oozed out of him.

“Kim Seungmin, are you comparing me to a book?”

Eyes wide in fake bewilderment, “only the most important book in my life. Every single thought I’ve had is written in it. That’s why there’s so many.”

“So how do I play into this?”

“Because I have you to listen to every single thought I’m going to have.”

“And that explains why you text me every few minutes whenever we’re apart?”

“Exactly.”

Content with his answer, “okay.”

“Okay.”

Then a thought struck you. “I don’t get boats.” Mouth parted slightly, he gazed up at you. “I mean, I know it’s buoyancy or whatever, but it still doesn’t make sense. How can metal boats float?”

It seemed to strike a nerve in him because his fingers rapidly tapped your phone screen. “Water displacement? I get that,” Seungmin showed you what he’d found, turning over on his stomach to lay like you.

“You get boats but not planes?” A small smile crept upon your face.

This is how nights with him went a lot of the time. He asks a question that leads to another one and another one until suddenly it’s four in the morning and neither of you are remotely tired but have to be up by seven.

“Yeah, boats don’t get turbulence. I don’t like turbulence.”

“I know you don’t. I also know that most of the ocean is unexplored. If you look up at the sky, that’s all there is.”

“There’s also aliens.” Rolling your eyes, your face planted into the pillow with a sigh. It was going to be another long night. You felt a hand thread through your hair and massage your scalp gently, a low moan escaping your lips as his fingers applied more pressure.

“And stars. Stars are pretty.” Turning to face him, a droplet dripped from his hair onto his lips, only for you to swipe away.

“The ocean is pretty, too.” Seungmin shifted onto his knees, rolling you onto your back for him to climb over your body. He had you pinned to the bed, his large shirt you had on now ridden up and exposing your panty-clad lower half. It wasn’t even a nice pair of panties, just some normal light grey ones that you wore when you wanted to be comfortable. Truth be told they were old and probably a bit too small, snug around your hips and butt and left indents in your skin and the bow on the front was hanging on by a thread, still, better than teeny tiny thongs to wear to bed.

He hovered just above your thighs, body hunched over to bring a chaste kiss to your lips one after another. Both his hands cupped your cheeks while your own landed on his bare thighs where the towel was now slowly coming undone. Kissing him was always saccharine, taking his time to drown in the feeling of your lips on his one of the only things that topped the absurd and alarmingly strange conversations the two of you share. It was a nice contrast, being able to go from talking about anything and everything to not having to say a single word to express how either one of you feel. It’s like you already knew.

Though, the moment didn’t stay sweet. Seungmin ran his tongue over your bottom lip with expertise to which you granted without a fight. Exploring your body was an expedition he never got tired of, letting his hands roam further to fondle your breasts over his shirt for a second before thumbing at the waistline of your panties. The digits traced up and down beneath the tight material, tugging lightly at it before moving to snap the lining around your legs, making you squeak into his mouth in surprise. Big hands found their way beneath your underwear, squeezing your ass and pulling your lower body up to brush against his.

Seungmin disconnected from your lips, “it’s big.” He smirked down at you, kissing your cheek and towards your neck. “And deep. So deep you can get lost in it.” A heavy grind of his cock against your now arousal soaked panties made you quietly keen.

“Are you still talking about the ocean?”

Against the nipped skin of your collar bone, “totally talking about the ocean.”

His knees were sturdy on either side of you as he used his raw strength to keep your body suspended, growing hungry every time you tried to roll up into him. It didn’t take very long for your arousal to soak through, spreading higher and higher up with every dry thrust of the towel shielding away his dick. The flesh of your ass molded around his fingertips, his grip almost slipping because of how rough his grip was. When your own hands found their way around his waist to slip under the towel and guide him harder into you, Seungmin ripped the fabric away all together and tossed it to the floor.

With a relieved sigh, his cock bobbed against his lower stomach, tip red and leaking. He moved off for just a moment to pull your legs from below him, bending and spreading to settle between them. A full view of your sopping pussy, Seungmin smiled almost evilly from his towering position above you. Just two fingertips ran over your pussy lips, feeling the wetness for himself and bringing them to his mouth to taste. A low groan erupted from his chest as Seungmin popped his fingers away, only to move the gusset of your panties to the side.

“Pup, no teasing tonight,” you breathe as he stares at your glistening cunt.

“Promise I won’t,” he says, pushing your panties as far as they’d go. “You lay there and be pretty. I’ll take all the teasing for both of us. Just looking at you makes me wanna blow.” You whined at the mention, “but I won’t. Won’t cum until you finish at least twice.”

Your nails raked hard across his ass and down his thighs, sending a shiver through his spine in a whole bodily reaction. It made you smile and giggle proudly as his dick twitched, knowing the feeling was mutual.

Hearing your giggle echoing throughout his bedroom inspired him. Seungmin shuffled backwards until he stood at the foot of the bed and took hold of your ankles, sliding you across the sheets. He instantly fell to his knees, eye level with your cunt as he draped your knees over his shoulders. Still with your panties pushed to the side, he sucked in a deep breath of your scent.

Before he moved any further, Seungmin looked up at you, eyes wide and chest breathing heavily. You reached for his hands and rested them along the length of your body, keeping a firm grip on his forearms. “Twice. No touching.”

His cock throbbed at the denial, the feeling of the tip tapping against the edge of the covers enough to make him more desperate. “Yes, master,” his handle on your thighs already bruisingly tight.

“Eat, pup.”

Seungmin kept his eyes locked on you as the tip of his tongue ran over your folds, your head falling back into the sheets under his warmth. An unrestrained moan escaped you as he ventured deeper, harder, hardly breathing because the taste of you was like oxygen itself. Seungmin eats pussy like a starved man, taking in as much as possible out of fear that he’d never have it again. He put everything to work, lips suctioning your clit, then tongue dipping into your hole only to have his nose nudging the bundle of nerves again and making your back arch off the bed, even whimpering into your cunt and vibrating through you.

Your nails dug into his arms, leaving deep scratches and crescent marks as you attempted to pull him deeper into you. His forearms were decorated in red lines by the time the burning of your first orgasm began to tighten in your stomach, your legs covered in already forming bruises under his hands. Your hips were rising and falling, trying to find the spot that would push you over the edge but Seungmin followed every movement until you held him in place by his still damp hair. Grinding up against his nose you found it, the final rub in just the right way and you filled the air with your wail of pleasure, holding his face snug against your pussy.

His tongue circled your entrance as you came down, opening your eyes to find him already staring at you. Tugging him away, his tongue hung from his mouth, out of breath. “Good puppy,” you praised, breathing just as hard.

You planned to take a second to breathe, not expecting Seungmin to use his teeth to pull at your panties and messily place it over your cunt again. Before you could protest he was already diving back in, lapping at you through the material. The change in texture was already making you squirm as it was faintly tender from overstimulation. You tried to push his head away, but the exhaustion was too great, not enough strength to fight him off. So you laid there and took it, afterall, he did say he’d do all the work.

Sloppy and practically drooling Seungmin was as he ever so gently teethed at your clit. The soaked fabric of your panties cushioned the sharp edges, though it still made you shiver. He reached for the hemline on your hips and tugged them up your body so strongly that it almost took you with it. The outline of your puffy, abused cunt shown through, doused in spit and arousal and it made Seungmin lose his fucking mind. He repeated his earlier actions over and over until you were a whining mess unable to fight the second overstimulated orgasm from erupting. The wet texture of your panties and warmth of his mouth was too good of a combination, paired so well alongside the dizzying vibrations coming from his sinful, hungry moans. You were trapped in your own clothes, drenched in sweat and saliva and the smell of sex, and Seungmin was right, you got lost in it.

You didn’t realize how lost he was, too, thrusting into the air and hoping his dick would hit something, anything for the long awaited friction he craved. The duvet covers weren’t doing enough for him, Seungmin was so desperate that he unconsciously scooted closer to the edge of the bed and found a tender spot in the side of the mattress, silently rutting against it.

He would’ve gotten away with it if he wasn’t manhandling you at this point, standing taller on his knees and taking you with him so your lower half was being held in the air. You looked up, only to find him humping against the bed.

It was hot, really hot. But you’d already told him no and it seemed like he was having too much fun by himself.

One hard tug of his hair away from your cunt made him cease his actions on you, but he couldn’t stop his hips from moving. “Have your fun, puppy. Just don’t cum.” He let out a high pitched wail when you lulled his face back into your pussy.

You were amazed by his multitasking skills. Maybe it was brainless muscle memory that made his mouth work wonders on you while also pushing himself closer to the edge. Honestly, you just wanted to see how far he’d take it, if he’d actually come from just the feeling of a lifeless mattress and the taste of you. “Does it hurt, baby?” You asked, voice airy.

Seungmin nodded, trying hard to focus. “Better hurry and make me cum, then. I don’t like to see my pup hurting.”

“Your pup,” he repeated almost intelligibly, tongue swirling stronger around your clit.

Somehow he still had so much energy, tongue moving with more fervor in messy figure eights. His display of adrenaline and strength to keep you held up was arousing in its own way, you couldn’t stop pushing your hips into his face, just as desperate for another high as he was for his first. He didn’t disappoint, suckling you in with the right amount of pressure to make you tip over the edge again into a borderline painful, blinding orgasm.

When your body relaxed from around his head, Seungmin placed you back onto the bed. His hips stuttered as he tried to stop himself from continuing rutting against the bed, your eyes just barely opening again to see him almost close to crying, eyes glassy and constant, whispered pants falling from his lips.

“D’you want something, baby?” Your words were taunting, most definitely teasing as you spread your knees just a bit wider to get a better glance at the tremble in his lower half. You wanted to call him pathetic, but he was just so cute.

Seungmin nodded rapidly, “want you.”

“Seems like the bed was doing a pretty good job there. You like humping furniture like the dog you are?” He shook his head even faster, “n– no, not dog. Puppy wants you, please, just you.”

It was so hard to tell him no for a second time. So you pulled him in by the back of the neck with your ankles, Seungmin jumped your bones, kissing up your belly and pushing your shirt over your breasts and latching onto your right one while his left hand tweaked the other. Finishing his fun with a deep bite into the skin, he bit more marks along your neck until he reached your lips and crashed into you. He attempted to hold his hips off you, but every time his cock accidentally smacked against your cunt, he’d shudder.

His head buried in your neck, you whispered, “you wanna be my good puppy?” Seungmin mumbled an “mhm,” and bit harder into your neck. You’d pushed him off by the shoulders, watching the desperate look on his face closely as you sat up on your knees and pulled your underwear down. It hadn’t gotten lower than your knees when your boyfriend quickly got to his feet and stood behind you, palming at your love handles.

“Down, boy. No jumping,” you smacked his hand away and he immediately took a step back. Concealing a smile, you fell back onto the bed on your back and heard him emit a small disappointed whine. “C’mere,” coercing him with your underwear hanging off one leg around your ankle, Seungmin hesitantly crawled back on top of you. Then you pulled him down into a sugary kiss, reassuring in more ways than one as hands hiked your knees around his waist and your nails dragged against his scalp. Almost as soon as you guided his cock towards your entrance, he’d lost his mind.

From the get-go he thrusted into you at a steady pace, your relaxed cunt welcoming him with hot, slick walls. Lewd skin on skin barely overshadowed the bounciness of your moans with every hard tap of his cock against your soft spot. From the back of his head, down his neck, and across almost every inch of his back did you leave searing, on the brink of bleeding scratch marks. And Seungmin loved every bit of it, it reminded him of his place, who he belongs to now and who he belongs to in the morning. Every line you drew along his body was like a collar and you held the leash, he just wished you’d actually put one on him.

He practically cried at the wetness that engulfed him, blinking away tears because of the stark contrast between the rough bed and your delicious pussy. Shaking, heavy breaths were all he could manage as your cunt sucked him in, not a single other thought when the sting mixed so, so good with the pleasure. You tried to be subtle in the areas you left your mark, but he wore oversized clothes anyways. By the time he was starting to lose rhythm the entirety of his back and biceps were criss-crossed covered.

He let out a whiney, high pitched mewl, telling you he was close. But that wasn’t enough. He was good for you tonight, but not that good. He could always be better– his words, not yours. There was always a chance for him to be a better puppy. Like now.

A stutter in his thrusts allowed a short window for you to scoot up the bed and let his cock fall from your pussy, not without a sour complaint from your boyfriend. “N– no, no, why?! So close!”

“That’s why, pup. Down,” he slouched back on his heels, cock unashamedly twitching and leaking precum like it was the only thing his body could produce.

You moved to kneel highly and peer down at him ever so slightly, hand finding his cheeks puffy and blushing. Brushing his hair from his forehead, you smiled, sickly like syrup. A chaste kiss to his lips, and he was calm again.

He didn’t know what to do when you moved onto all fours, ass up, face down. Seungmin ogled you like he’d never seen you naked before, as if he wasn’t just buried in you. Coming in unrushed, he took hold of your ass, running his big hands over it softly.

“Go on then, pup. Be good and fuck.”

It was like a switch went off in his head. Permission, access granted, entry allowed, he’d never stuck his dick in someone so quick. He’d also never been so deep in headspace before, but it was a long time coming with you.

Seungmin had revealed his little kink a while back and agreed to take it slow. He was just glad that this was one more thing to make it out of his journals, and with someone who loved and respected every single bit of him without an ounce of judgment.

Testing his own self restraint he dipped the tip of his cock past your entrance, heat spreading throughout his body. Then he thought to himself, screw this. Literally. He plunged his entire length all at once, making your body clench like a screenshot at the welcomed invasion, followed by a pleasant sob. Sheathed completely, Seungmin hunched over your back and stood himself onto his feet, and his thinning rope of control snapped. Balls smacking against you and using the fatty flesh of your ass to pound you against him, he had no thoughts other than cum.

“Oh, you fuck like a dog. What happened to my sweet puppy?” If it were anyone else, Seungmin might’ve laughed at the words. But your usual honey voice was cracking, pushing broken with how hard and fast he hammered into you. You didn’t even mind, too in love with this side of him that you didn’t bother him to finish you off a third time. Taking it upon yourself, you reached between your legs and rubbed circles into your clit.

He couldn’t even speak back, too lost in his own head as rigid breaths filled his silence. That was fine, he knew you didn’t need a direct answer now. All he could muster was, “not a dog.”

“No?” You chuckled a feigning innocent laugh, “my sweet puppy wouldn’t try to breed me like this.”

Seungmin practically growled, pummeling harder and deeper while also trying to make himself last as long as possible. He just couldn’t get enough, feeling like he’d die on the spot if he pulled out. But the mere mention of breeding you, how could one’s mind spin if they didn’t even have one?

“Only big dogs breed, baby. Are you one of the big dogs now? With a cock like that, why wouldn’t you wanna mount me? C’mon, pup. Breed me, if you can.”

It was a challenge designed for him to win. Tight convulsions of your hot, wet pussy practically wrote him his death certificate. Seungmin let his arms wrap around your torso, chest coming into contact with your back as he finished with a last few shallow pumps, riding the high immersed in your heat. Minutes of your lives were spent in this position, feeling as though he was coming for ages. You didn’t mind, though, and Seungmin didn’t either as he rubbed his forehead into your back.

He pulled out with a whine, soreness or reluctancy or probably both, kneeling behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see him in a dazed state and his eyes blinking slowly, looking like he was going to tip over. Without thinking, you sat up to steady him, helping him lay gently into the bed. Seungmin blinked a silent thank you, eyes full of adoration and awe. Hopelessly devoted, you stroked his cheeks softly, planting tender, bewitched kisses to his lips, cheeks, everywhere and showering him in love.

Pulling up the soiled panties from around your ankle to catch the spilling cum, you hurriedly slung the shirt back over your breasts and made a break for the bathroom for some wipes and maybe scar cream. Finding them and running back to his room, Seungmin was on the brink of sleep. There was a strange noise as you teetered through the hallway, something of a thump, but you were sure it was nothing.

“No sleeping yet, baby.” With an exhausted groan, Seungmin let you maneuver him and around him, starting with wiping down his lower region delicately. He winced when you swiped away the fluids from his flaccid cock, but let out a sigh of relief when you were done. He was even harder to handle to get onto his side so you could clean his scraped back and dab the cream wherever need be. You’d done a real number on him this time, his skin scratched so raw that any slight mistaken movement might hurt. But it’s what he likes, you’re just there to bandage him up afterwards.

So you lightly clean his wounds, not hearing a lick of complaint from the cold of the towelette. A proud smirk painted your face as you gazed over your artwork, but an almost beast of a snore snapped you from your trance, giggling to yourself over your versatile boyfriend. He had fallen asleep. And that was okay, too, you expected as much after all was said and done.

The only things left to do were to wipe yourself down, change out of these filthy underwear, grab a new one of Seungmin’s shirts, and climb into bed with him. After all that, you’d found your phone hidden beneath the pillows, seeing his glowing on his side table.

Checking yours first, there were just a few unanswered messages.

felix (skz) >> please check seungmins phone

felix (skz) >> like now

felix (skz) >> im begging

You panicked for a second. What was so urgent that Felix needed to message you in the middle of the night?

Reaching over your sleeping boyfriend, you took his phone off the charger and looked at his notifications.

Missed calls, missed texts, missed face times, all in the upper eighties of notifications. To read a few;

menace minho hyung >> shut the fuck up

menace minho hyung >> shut the fuck up or i’ll piss in ur cereal

lix >> pls let me sleep i'll do anything

lix >> is someone crying?? do i need to call an ambulance??

lix >> im so scared mom pick me up

jeonginnie >> there’s a reason i chose the room furthest from you

jeonginnie >> now there’s two grown men in my bed

jeonginnie >> one of them has 119 speed dial

jeonginnie >> the other is holding a carton of milk with your name labeled on it

jeonginnie >> shut the fuck up

lix >> WHY IS Y/N COVERED IN BRUISES WHAT DID YOU DO

Both mortified and hysterical– mostly mortified– you replied back to Felix.

<< im…so…sorry… it's safe to go back to your room now…

felix (skz) >> its not safe until seungmin is moved into ur place

You couldn’t help but laugh harder, trying hard not to wake your boyfriend. But he stirred either way, arm instantly finding its way to drape over your torso and tug you closer to his body. “Why’re you laughing?” He squinted one eye open.

“We have some noise complaints and maybe an eye witness,” you giggled into his chest, tossing the phones aside and snuggling closer into him.

Seungmin closed his eyes again, getting comfortable in your embrace once more, “fucking losers.”

A/N: *taps mic* is this thing on... damn site has been acting up so much lately I reeeeeeally hope this post pulls thru :(( also if I'm missing anyone on my tag list please comment on my separate post for it pinned to my profile! reminder please have age indicators and a non-bot looking profile just any reblogs or interactions will suffice. AAAAAAND stay tuned for part 4 ;)

TAGS: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @aliferousminho @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules

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liknws · 2 months

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i need this in a seungmin or minho fic right now please

#WHOS GOING TO WRITE IT #skz x reader #skz x you #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x y/n #skz x oc

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straykeedz · 9 months

Note

It an idea I had for my NSFW blog for a different fandom but I didn't go through with it. I might later on but not rn.

Han Jisung pounding into reader over the kitchen counter and getting caught by Lee Know and/or Bang Chan.

pairing: han jisung x gn!eader;

genre: drabble;

rating: s;

word count: 1,2k

TW: language; explicit content [(b)fwb; unprotected sex (don’t!!!); hair pulling; dirty talk]; getting caught during sexy-time (oops 🫣);

requested by anon 🫶

i hope this lives up to your expectations! 🫧

please keep in mind that english is not my first language, so feel free to correct me if you spot any mistakes/typos :)

✿

He was sure you wouldn’t get caught.

It was movie night, and your friends were all gathered in the living room. Maybe that should’ve been your sign to just don’t. To just control your hormones and wait until the guys left, but it was so hard.

Plus, Jisung had been teasing you all night. At first, he’d been subtle about what his true intentions were. He’d placed his hand on your thigh, and you didn’t mind, because he always did whenever the two of you were watching a movie cuddled up on the couch, since the two of you were close. Then, you felt his long fingers starting to slowly move upwards until they were practically brushing against your inner thigh.

Your eyes had widened at the sudden and forbidden touch, because all of your friends were in the same room just mere inches away from you. If they turned their heads to your direction, they’d definitely see that Jisung’s fingers were not where they should be. Plus, Minho was literally sitting next to Jisung, so that only made it ten times more risky.

When Jisung’s fingers slipped inside your pajama pants and began toying with the hem of your underwear, your eyes widened and your head snapped in his direction, only to find him smirking cockily. Asshole. He knew exactly what he was going, getting you all riled up in front of your friends. You were still pretty new to this whole best-friends-with-benefits thing, and wanted to keep it from the guys -at least for now-, that’s why you weren’t expecting him to act so reckless during movie night.

What are you doing?, you mouthed to him, only to earn a satisfied smirk in return. God, you really hated him sometimes.

When you felt his fingers move south, closer and closer to your most sensitive area, you immediately jolted up, getting up from the couch, which made his hand fall back on the soft cushion. Chan, who was sitting right in front of you, immediately snapped his head in your direction, preoccupied with your sudden movement.

“You okay?”, he inquired.

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s just…” you cleared your throat. “I just need a glass of water.”, you excused yourself, going to the kitchen, before you heard Jisung’s voice.

“I’m coming with you.”, you glared at him. “I’m thirsty, too.”, he winked at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

He followed you in the kitchen and left the door ajar behind him.

“What is wrong with you?”, you whisper-shouted at Jisung. “The guys were right there!”

He looked at you with a cocky grin on his face, totally unfazed. Then, he came closer to you, and placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. His face was just a few inches away from yours, and you could almost feel his lips brushing with yours.

“You turn me on so much, have I ever told you that?”, he whispered, brushing a lock of hair away from your face.

“Only a thousand times today.”, you rolled your eyes at him, again.

“Good.”, he grinned. “Because it’s true. My dick won’t stop getting hard whenever I’m around you.”, he grunted. It was only when he pressed his pelvis against your lower abdomen that you acknowledged the growing bulge in his pants, and a whimper left your mouth before you could stop yourself. “I need you.”

You gasped as soon as those words left his mouth. “Here?”, you asked, dumbfounded.

His hands moved all the way to your ass, cupping it firmly. “Why not?”, he nuzzled his nose against yours.

“The guys are-“

“Watching the movie.”, he interrupted you. “They won’t even notice we’re gone.” That sounded way too risky, and Jisung’s indecent proposal somehow intrigued you. “So… are you down?”

Without putting much thought into it, you answered: “Yeah.”

Jisung’s satisfied smirk turned into a lustful grin. “Good.”, he whispered in your ear, which sent shivers down your spine as you felt yourself getting more and more aroused by unexpected turn of events. “Then bend over.”

You got goosebumps all over your skin as soon as those filthy words left his mouth, and felt your stomach twist in excitement. What you were about to do was risky, and that made it a hundred times more electrifying. You nodded swiftly, then proceeded to do as he demanded. You felt Jisung’s fingers starting to pull your pajamas and underwear over the curve of your ass and down your legs, before you heard him fidgeting with his belt and zipper.

“You ready, baby?”, he murmured, and you felt the tip of his cock brushing your skin.

You nodded, and Jisung brought one hand to his mouth only to spit on his fingers, before coating the tip of his cock in his own saliva. How could such a filthy action turn you on that much? When you felt his tip poking at your entrance, your hips involuntarily jolted up at the sudden touch.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not into it.” Jisung whispered, placing a kiss on your clothed shoulder.

“No, I want to.”, you reassured him.

“Are you sure?”, he inquired.

“One hundred percent.”, you insisted. “Now fuck me, Ji.”

He grunted at your words, and slowly started to push himself inside of you, which made you eyes roll back in pure pleasure and a sigh leave your parted lips. The feeling of his cock stretching you out and filling you up was so overwhelming you were scared you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.

“S-So tight, baby.” Jisung groaned once he was fully inside you before he bottomed out slowly. “Always take my cock so well.”, he praised you, throwing his head back in pleasure.

His hands gripped tight on your waist as he started to thrust himself back and forth into you, slowly at first and then more and more roughly to the point to had to hold onto the kitchen counter not to lose your balance. The more Jisung pounded into you, the more you could feel your legs quiver, your friends in the living room now long forgotten.

“Fuck, I’m already close.”, he moaned, then brought one of his hand to your hair, gripping it firmly, and you let out a whimper in response. “You turn me on so much, fuck. Are you close, too?”

You nodded vehemently, already starting to feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm approaching. Jisung sped up his thrusts, the filthy sound of skin slapping on skin filling the kitchen, but you didn’t care. Not now, not when you both were so close to reaching your yearned release.

And that’s when you heard it, the softest shocked gasp. “What the-“

Both yours and Jisung’s heads snapped up in the direction of the voice you’d heard, only to find a shocked Chan with widened eyes and his mouth agape and a clearly unfazed Minho, leaning on the door jamb with his arms crossed over his chest.

“See?” Minho told his friend Chan, who was still flabbergasted by the sight of you pressed against the kitchen counter, your hair messy and all over your face and Jisung right behind -and inside- you. “I told you these two were fucking each other.”

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If you want to request me something, make sure to click on the "💌" emoji on my profile and dm me with your thoughts specifying the skz member + the scenario/the rating :)

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j-a-nuary · 9 months

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In Which Contact Names Are Changed

Stray Kids Masterlist | In Which... | Seventeen Masterlist

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 9 days

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Bf!skz finds your baby pics/you find his😇💌

🖤hyung line🖤

🖤maknae line🖤

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hanibalistic · 6 months

Text

WHO YOU ARE, WHO I AM | LEE MINHO.

genre | fluff, angst, (semi) slow burn / arranged marriage au / strangers to lovers / 4th wall break

synopsis | when you wake up to a good-looking man who claims to be your husband, there isn’t much to do aside from assuming you got stuck in a drama.

word count | 15.1k+

warning | mentions of cheating, blood / occasions of toxic marriage / one instance of violence / not edited since the first time i posted this story

note | the ending is essentially the same. i changed very little of the original story, only nearing the end. / forcing me to put fic into parts is heinous.

parts | one, two, three

You have had a fair share of envious moments before.

Whenever you see adorable and loving couples wandering across the streets, sipping a hot drink while letting their shared scarf do the deed of warming them up on a cold winter night, you want to gouge your eyes out to save yourself from the public display of chaste affection. But, at the same time, you cannot stop staring. If you stare long enough, you might just be able to replace the couple with you and your perfect, imaginary boyfriend.

You have prayed for a significant other at one time or another. Who hasn’t? Discreetly whispering towards the birthday candles, the new year’s fireworks, an abrupt desperation appearing in the middle of the night when you were jolted awake. Yet, for years, the odds were not in your favor until at this exact moment when you opened your eyes after long hours of sleep you could not remember yourself ever heading to.

The sunlight was seeping through the white mesh curtains that mirrored the fabric of an expensive wedding gown, the kind that makes you gasp in awe at the bride when she wears it down the aisle. It did nothing to help with the glaring morning gaze but you could understand why people would buy it as a decoration. Those useless and overpriced curtains, no matter what, do give the room a whimsical atmosphere. If only you ever got one.

The second you laid eyes on those mesh curtains, your eyes snapped open and the grogginess you felt from just waking up vanished immediately. Those were not yours. No, definitely not. You cared too much about sleep to allow yourself an aggressive wake by the sun. Besides, you would not be caught dead spending hundreds of dollars buying a home decoration that serves no purpose other than looking pretty.

You clenched the bedsheet and gasped in both shock and awe. Talk about the softest bed sheets you have ever felt! The blanket covering your, thankfully, fully-clothed body felt like silk yet the material was thick enough to make you feel warm like you were taking a steamy hot shower and make you sleep like you were in a coma. But the same thing applied: these bedsheets never belonged to you and possibly never will.

“Oh god,” you breathed out in a whisper as your eyes rolled around the unfamiliar room.

You were stalling at this point. The heavy presence laying next to you was far too obvious for you to ignore but you were also too afraid to look. Who could it be? You hadn’t the faintest idea. You couldn’t even recall exactly what happened last night! Did you make any plans? That would be extremely unlikely. You’ve got no friends who would invite you anywhere and you’ve got no motivation to go anywhere but slack around in your apartment!

Nothing else could explain the current situation you’ve gotten yourself in, though. Nothing but you getting very drunk and possibly handing all that was sacred about you to a complete stranger.

Slowly turning your head to the side, you let your squinted eyes fall open slowly for the big reveal. The man sleeping next to you had his body turned towards your side. His lashes fluttered even when he was unmoving and his brown locks fell just above his closed eyes in the most boyish, attractive way. The bridge of his nose arched perfectly to welcome to button tip. His lips have a natural pout to them and they somehow appeared to be glittery under the sunlight.

Oh yeah, you must be drunk last night. You were sure this man was too because no way in hell would he ever want to have anything to do with you.

You stared at the man for a brief moment. Your internal thoughts went through all five stages of confusion, with all first four of them being pure confusion and the last stage being acceptance. You felt like you opened your long hidden psychic third eye after the stage of acceptance and you have never felt smarter than before. Acceptance should have been your first instinct. What else should you have done when you wake up to find yourself sleeping next to one of, if not the most, handsome man you’ve seen on Earth?

After giving your mind a nod of approval for creating such a beautiful man, you turned on your back and closed your eyes. You went back to sleep because, obviously, this was just a lucid dream.

I would let you think you were smart for a moment, [Name], but I do believe it is about time we progress with the story and learn about who the man of your dreams was, so–I’m not sorry but up we go!

You jolted awake as if you just had a nightmare, which you did not. Your body just wanted to keep you awake, it seemed. It was as if it knew you were not in the right place, or you were in a place you have never been to before, and it wanted you to stand up and discover an escape route. Sighing in defeat, your eyes blinked at the unfamiliar room you had gotten a glimpse of before you concluded that you were in a dream.

Turning your head to the side, your eyes welcomed the sight of the man you had previously admired. The only difference this time was that he was very much awake and was blatantly staring at you with a look of utter distaste that felt more common than ever. He was not the first person to give you that unamused frown and wickedly condescending gaze but it really did add more impact to it when it came from someone as good-looking as him.

“What the fuck?” you muttered out with a hasty, croaked voice.

Minho tilted his head to the side at your obnoxious reaction, then he spoke, “Why are you on my bed?”

You furrowed your brows at him, both at how nice his voice was early in the morning and in confusion to the fact that he asked you the million-dollar question. Breathing out a short laugh, you looked away from him. “I don’t know, man. I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything aside from the rules we established the first day of our marriage,” he wasted no time to say, his tone getting duller and duller as if he was really getting mad over you being on his king-sized bed.

“Oh, you’re crazy.” You rolled your eyes as you reached your hand up to ruffle your hair.

Upon the subject at hand, it was slowly coming to light the faint weight that has been resting on your fourth finger and was completely neglected by your confused state of mind. Your ruffling slowly came to a stop and, stalling time once again, you turned over to look at the stranger who was still staring at you with distaste. Something about his lack of expression, and the weight on your hand, told you he was being honest.

“Are we married?” you asked. “The thing I am feeling on my finger is not a ring, is it?”

Minho’s gaze shifted for a moment. You seemed genuinely confused, out of your usual element if he could say so himself. Truth be told, he never really paid that much attention to you. He did once in a blue moon, never enough for your presence to stick in his head. But he could definitely tell when you weren’t being yourself, when you didn’t feel like you.

“Don’t joke around with me, [Name],” he said when he regained his usual demeanor. The theory he thought about was discarded with ease. There was absolutely no way something so fiction-like could ever happen to him. The arranged marriage aside, of course.

“You know my name?” you questioned slowly, finally sitting up now that this situation was becoming creepier. Your legs inched toward the edge of the bed to leave the soft blanket and were ready to bolt out of the room for good. “I don’t even know yours.”

“Yes, you do,” Minho said, sitting up as well. “Stop messing around. Just admit that you broke the rules and slept on my bed. This amnesia act is a waste of my time.”

You squinted your eyes at him, jaw hung open in utter disbelief. His attitude fueled nothing more than the distaste for him that was currently brewing inside you. “Dude, I don’t fucking know who you are? Am I supposed to just guess your name? Something generic like Lee Minho?”

He showed you a deadpan expression immediately after your voice fell. Judging by the way his shoulders dropped in annoyance, you knew for a fact that you had guessed his name correctly. That was a generic name as you mentioned. You cursed under your breath then, recognizing how your luck was completely working against your favor.

“I–I gotta go. I have to leave!”

You let the anxiety in your body do the job as you stumbled backward and out of the bedroom. You were immediately greeted with a long and bright hallway that looked way too familiar for you to not be able to navigate around it.

You have never been here before, but you just knew. It looked like a house straight out of a drama. With the opened curtains, the velvet carpet, the random Chinese vases located in the awkward middle, and the giant wooden patterned doors—oh god, were you on secret camera right now? Did you sign some ten-page long contract you never took the time to read?

Moving to a random direction of the hallway, you grabbed the handle of the next door you could find and opened it to head inside. The lights automatically turned on when it noticed a presence, and you found yourself in what appeared to be a walk-in closet.

It was a black and white. A very minimalistic color scheme. The orange lights made you wince because it didn’t match the atmosphere. Clothing racks lined up against the wall and eventually met each other at the end, where a tall mirror stood waiting to be used. There was a door that you guessed might lead to a bathroom and a few shelves of expensive perfume and shoes. Sitting oddly in the middle was a small round desk and a cushioned chair.

You grimaced at how obnoxious and luxurious the closet was. It was everything you could have dreamed of having. Maybe even a little beyond that. There was such a thing as too big of a closet, and the idea of actually spending that much money made your skin all itchy and irritated.

Oh, [Name]–what are you doing? You have got no time to give criticism to a rich person’s closet. You have got to figure out what the fresh hell was happening!

“This makes no sense.” You clicked your feet against the carpet floor before you started to pace around.

Marriage? Minho knowing your name yet you needed to guess his? This foreign rich land you stumbled upon? There were only four solutions you could think of after having rethink every single detail.

Exhibit A: This is still a dream.

You slapped yourself after much preparation. The pain stung you like your bare hand to a burning stove. This is not a dream, it has never been.

It was funny to watch you slap yourself though, I have to say.

Exhibit B: This is a television prank.

Your drama-loving, variety-show-watching freak would definitely be able to tell. Each pranking show has its distinct element to the way they execute their plan—from the setting to their actors to their fake scenarios. This was far too obvious and far too risky for any pranking show you have watched. You could cross the option off the chalkboard!

Exhibit C: Minho is madly in love with you and has kidnapped you to be his spouse!

Interesting and unbelievable. Why would someone like him need to kidnap you to keep you with him? With that face and this kind of money? You would have caved within seconds judging by how shallow your heart could be sometimes. Besides, why would someone like you intrigue him? No way. This option is off the chalkboard too.

Well, what remained was your last resort, I suppose. May I proudly present you—Exhibit D!

The door to the closet swung open, abruptly disrupting the deep-voiced narrator in your head and pulling you back into the real world… as real as it could get, at least. Snapping your head to the side, you were greeted with an unamused Minho by the doorway and your frown deepened at his unwelcoming presence.

“Why are you in my closet?” he asked, approaching you slowly.

You blinked at him and looked around. The clothes on the racks finally made themselves clearer to you, and for the first time you could see that those were men clothes. Or, at least, pieces you would never wear outside. This wasn’t your closet, but you’ve had enough to him to admit your wrongs, so yous scoffed instead.

“Is everything yours?”

Minho raised a brow. “Besides you, yeah. I would say so.”

You closed your eyes to concentrate on holding down a fiery breath threatening to escape. Whether it was Minho or yourself it planned to head toward, exploding in the middle of a stranger’s house in an unfamiliar situation was the last thing that could help you. As much as you hated how Minho seemed to make perfect sense every time, you remained (as) calm (as you could be).

“Whatever.” Classic comeback.

“Whatever? No, this isn’t whatever,” Minho said, grabbing a fistful of a discarded topic and throwing it at your face. “Do we need to have another talk about boundaries?”

You furrowed your brows, but you weren’t confused this time. You were annoyed and in disbelief. His condescending tone scratched the part of your brain you learned to turn off during work hours, but since he wasn’t in charge of your finances, unlike your boss, you’ve had it up to the tip of your head with him. On second thought, you were better than this asshole! You would never agree to marry someone with this kind of shitty attitude! Exhibit C is back in the race!

“Did you kidnap me?” you asked with no reluctance.

Minho tilted his head at you, bewildered but not enough to lose his stoic expression. “Kidnap you? Why would I do that? You are the one head over heels for me ever since we got married.”

“I can’t imagine why,” you snorted loudly as you turned away from him. Then you pointed a finger at him, wanting to spat something with menace but you were stopped immediately by the diamond ring on your fourth finger.

Oh, that—that is heavy. That looked heavy and it felt heavy. How did you not feel it? You wanted to take it off and keep it in a glass box on display the second you laid your eyes on it.

“Did you force this on me?” you asked, pointing at the ring and discreetly feeling the rough diamond on your skin. Your eyes shifted slightly to glance at it and they widened on instinct. You couldn’t even begin to guess how expensive that piece of rock is and having it weighing down on your fourth finger felt like too much responsibility. “You freak! How much did you pay for this?”

Minho shook his head, continuously bewildered at the sudden questions fired towards him. “About five hundred–“

You held up your palm to shut him up. That number was all you needed to know. Judging from the way he was still trying to speak, the ring was definitely not just a mere five hundred dollars. And be it the word ‘thousand’ or ‘million,’ whichever comes out of his mouth would still make you fake barf and your heart pour blood. The only thing you could feel remotely glad about was the fact that he bought the ring.

“Also, for your information, I did not force the ring on you. We both agreed to get married. Besides, I didn’t need to force you to do anything,“ he replied. "Our parents did.”

"Our parents? What do you know about my parents–my mom and dad will never force me to marry anybody even though that is all they ever urge me to do these days!”

“[Name].”

For once, Minho’s deep and quiet voice was laced with something other than spite. His eyes were solemnly melancholic. They dropped like shadows as he gazed at you carefully. Without moving an inch, he spoke, “[Name], your parents have been dead for a year.”

Dead parents. Now that, ladies and gentlemen, is a trope you could work with. At least it has the capability of bringing your theory somewhere. Maybe on a path to insanity but still a route nonetheless.

Let me humbly do a recap of everything that went down.

A big house. A rich man, a rich and handsome man, a rich and handsome man who hates you, a rich and handsome man who hates you because you two were stuck in an arranged marriage. Dead parents.

"Oh my god,” you gasped under your breath as the reality dawned upon your once clueless mind. Everything was so clear after you figured out all the key elements, it almost felt like you could calculate the physics of the parallel universe and the meaning of existence!

You are stuck in a drama!

After some wild stumbling about in Minho’s big mansion, all thanks to your pride preventing you from asking him the exact location of ‘your’ closet, you finally found the fashion wonderland you were looking for—your walk-in closet, that was somehow separated from Minho’s even though you two were supposedly holding hands in marriage. This degree of hated in an arranged marriage wasn’t uncommon, but you thought it hard to deal with when you’re stuck in the position.

Bursting through the door, the lights automatically turning on in here as well, you gave yourself no time to admire the inner structure of how the closet was built and decorated. Instead, you immediately went for the first mirror you could find, which was just hanging on the wall above a little table.

You heaved a short sigh when you recognized your own face and body in the mirror. That fact alone reinforced the drama theory you’ve got spinning in your head. If you were to not look like yourself, there would be a possibility that your soul got switched with someone else’s and you were actually still stuck in real life. However, the person you were looking at in the mirror was you in the flesh, therefore this was not a soul-switching experience but a teleportation experience.

You got stuck in a drama. Yeah, that was it. Either that, or you got transported to yourself in an alternative universe. To you, they meant the same thing. Anything that wasn’t your reality would be fake. That was your answer. But how did you get transported here? Flipping through the television department of your memory, not once could you remember yourself ever going through anything that happened to protagonists who were teleported somewhere else.

You weren’t almost hit by a car, you didn’t almost freeze to death, you didn’t almost drown in the ocean—oh there, wait a minute. There was a pattern there. The key to the sequence is not a near-death experience. The key to all of these is only the 'near’ of the experience, not necessarily the 'death’ part of it!

“But that makes no sense?” you mumbled to yourself as you tried your best to remember what you were doing before you woke up next to Minho, but it was to no avail. All you could remember was falling asleep on a phone call with your friend. “Everyone almost does something all the time. How do you determine which one is significant?”

Marching over to pick up a random pair of shoes from the shelf, you raised it high in mid-air and let go of it. Before it could hit the ground, you immediately caught the shoes again, then you looked around the place with the most paranoid eyes. “Oh, oops! I almost dropped these shoes!”

Nothing happened. The only thing that welcomed you were the static in the air and the realization of your stupidity.

Alright. Perhaps the ‘death’ part of it was, in fact, necessary after all.

Putting the shoes back, you puffed out some air to replace a frown that would inevitably help you gain more wrinkles than needed. Walking back to the table, you stared at yourself in the mirror and gave yourself a few pinches here and there. Both to make sure you were not dreaming and to give yourself some encouragement that things would turn out fine somehow.

One thing you did come to realize after the momentary idiotic trance you got stuck in was that while you were stuck in a drama (at least a universe that seemed to act on its principles), you were also taking the place of someone else’s life. Your position belonged to a character once. You just came in and took their place. You still looked like you, for some reason, but this position was not yours to freely maneuver.

Besides, whoever ‘you’ used to be must have been transported to your body in your world. Unfortunately, judging from the kind of life they’ve led thus far, you should pray against that case because your life wasn’t the kind of suffering they could handle. You didn’t think so. Working a full time job, not being married, and being dirt poor? Your life would suck for them. You may have to be ready to find a new job when you figure out how to go home.

Nonetheless, you’ve got to be careful. You have no idea when you would magically disappear from this place, and you would hate to have someone pick up your pieces.

“Just live for now and don’t mess up,” you told yourself lazily, grimacing at the fact that you might have to comply with what Minho says from now on because, according to him, you were in love with him.

Now that the troubles were all set aside. It was finally time for you to bask in the big, extravagant closet of your dreams. You turned around and beamed at the clothes that lined up the walls and at the shoes all carefully placed in a row. This! This was much better than Minho’s closet, you knew that for certain!

Making your way to the other side of the room, you skipped with your bare feet happily. All that excitement only to have you trip on your own feet and fall forward. Your eyes widened in shock, your mouth hanging open to let out a small scream.

Your head banged against the wooden column that held up the clothing rack, and immediately you blacked out.

Opening your eyes was quite the scare for you.

Oh, how horrible it would be if you found yourself waking up next to a handsome man who happened to be your husband and also does not love you whatsoever but is extremely rich and is putting a roof over your head? You sniffed in distaste. You weren’t one for gold diggers. Money was never a big problem for you. You were poor, but you’ve got enough to get by. Loneliness and the lack of intimacy were the main issues! Not that you would outrightly acknowledge it, though.

The room you woke up in was different than the previous one. It was just as big as Minho’s bedroom but it had a more natural tone than Minho’s royal-like room. Holding your palm to your forehead, you winced in shock at the bumpy surface on your skin. You did remember tripping and falling head-on against the clothing rack but you did not think it would create that much damage. All you thought would happen was a small red spot and eternal suffering of you acknowledging how stupidly clumsy you were.

Aside from that, at least you gained a little information about yourself: you trip easy, you faint easy, and you scar easy. It was unlike your regular body; your threshold for pain and fatigue was high due to constant working, and you definitely did not use to trip on solid ground. Being teleported here has turned your body into a typical romantic drama protagonist.

Your feet touched the cold tiles. Surprisingly, there were no fluffy slippers for your them to slip into. You got out of your bed and immediately went out to the hall in hopes to search for someone. There has got to be a soul working in this mansion. You could not have possibly smeared vaseline on your forehead and tucked yourself back into bed in a state of unconsciousness.

The atmosphere was eerie as you made your way down the hall. The sound of your bare feet tapping against the carpet could be heard in this quiet house and for once, you thought perhaps having such a giant home was not the best idea in the world. It has got you missing your small and cozy apartment where most things were within reach and sight. If only it didn’t take half of your pay check every month.

“Oh, I see you’ve woken up!”

You flinched at the sudden voice, albeit it being very gentle and harmless. Turning around, you found a middle-aged lady dressed in casual clothes holding a basket of crumpled up laundry. Not wanting to act too suspicious and out of character, you gave her a small smile as you accessed her figure as quickly as you could.

She was not wearing one of those maid costumes, which was not surprising. You wouldn’t say you want to see an old lady in one either despite hoping to see an actual maid in a rich household just to experience that drama dream you’ve got stored in your head. But looking at the laundry basket she was holding, you were pretty sure she was only here to do the chores and she would leave once the day gets darker.

“Um… yeah, I have,” you replied to her as your hand reached out to softly touch the nasty bump on your forehead. You grimaced a little at the texture before you looked back at the lady, “Uh, is–is dinner ready?”

She nodded her head with a faint laugh, happy to know you haven’t lost your perception of time yet. Nudging her head to the end of the hallway, she said, “Mr.Lee went and bought home some takeout from your favorite restaurant after he got off work. They are in the kitchen if you are feeling hungry.”

You arched your brows pleasantly. Alright, that was very nice of him. Considering you weren’t holding any grudges against him yet, he did that our of sheer kindness, or responsibility—it didn’t matter. Free food is free food. You would thank him if you see him later but honestly, that would hugely depend on your mood and how he acts when you do see each other again, which you knew you would.

“Okay. Thank you very much.” You nodded at her with gratitude, mirroring her hushed voice. “Ah, and thanks for fixing my head and tucking me to bed.”

“Of course, it is what I’m supposed to do.” She smiled. Your surprised look—from mistaking that she was the person who brought you back to bed—did not go unnoticed. Immediately, she added,“But Mr.Lee was the one who brought you back to your bed. That was not me.”

You blinked at her in bewilderment. The inside of your chest fluttered just a little at the idea of someone hoisting you up bridal-style and putting you back to bed. It didn’t cross your mind once that he might have laid you on his back instead. You were dramatizing the experience. You had to because Minho did not seem like the type to fit under the romantic category. His face? Definitely. His personality? No.

Nonetheless, you were flustered at the idea of it. It was the first time someone has held you up like that since your father years and years ago.

“O–oh, that is–“ you cleared your throat and your mind, then you looked up at the lady with a smile–“um, is he home? I want to go thank him.”

“He is,” she nodded, “I believe he is just in his office room.”

Great. Location unlocked! All that remained would be how to get there.

“Thank you. I will just get going now.” You bowed slightly before you quickly spun on your heels and left the hallway.

After some more trials of opening doors that lead you to empty bathrooms and empty guest bedrooms, you were starting to hate this house more and more. At this point, you wouldn’t get a big home even if you’ve got all the money in the world. The hatred and annoyance have rooted too deep in your brain, you have automatically crossed your castle dreams off the bucket list.

Your feet tapped quickly against the carpet so your legs could take you down the hall and to the next doors quickly. Letting out a frustrated groan, you grabbed the door handle as soon as a new door was in reach and you twisted it open to reveal a rather embarrassing sight of Minho and a girl being all over him near the edge of his desk.

You couldn’t decipher whether this position was reciprocal. It was amazing that your brain could even function logically enough to think that perhaps Minho didn’t want to be stuck in this position considering how awkward the view was. You forgot for a moment you were looking at this from a spouse’s perspective, and panic surfaced when you dodged the girl’s annoyed eyes and instead looked straight into Minho’s shocked ones.

Your jaw dropped open slowly at the sight in front of you as if you were just looking at it for the first time. You were finally processing it, though. Then, for some stupid reason, you reached your hands up to your face and quickly smacked the heel of your palm to your eyes. Your back arched at the impact and you started wailing in (fake, but debatably genuine) pain. You disliked couples, also you thought it was funny to act out of the role you were destined to be: a wailing woman.

The real dilemma here was if you wanted to confront them or act as if you haven’t seen anything.

Unfortunately, confronting them may lose your status as Minho’s spouse, thus the roof over your head and the trust funds. It would be immensely entertaining to confront them, but you needed to keep everything else in mind. For now, pretending you didn’t see anything was the best response.

Minho and the girl were startled out their minds at your peculiar response. Minho’s instincts told him to stand up straight and approach you to check and see if the fall this morning was more serious than he assumed it to be. But before he could listen to his heart, your incoherent wailing started to turn into audible words.

“Oh! My eyes! I can’t feel my eyes! I can’t see!” You let your hands go free around the air and kept your eyes shut tightly to act blind. Your spun your torso about, almost dancing to a rhythm of a trot song, and your arms flailed closely beside your figure to avoid hitting the door frame. “I have not seen a thing! I’ve gone blind!”

His lips quirked up in amusement, but the amusement was quickly diminished when the girl who just recently tried to lure him into a deceptive make-out session spoke.

“What the hell is your problem?” she asked out loud, possibly glaring at you but you could not see (because your eyes were closed, not because you’ve actually gone blind. You’ve got me fooled!), nor do you care.

However, you did almost let a gasp past your lips because good lord, the audacity of this woman! Did she see no problem in seducing a married man? An unhappily married man but a married, ring on the finger, contract signed, vowed spoken man nonetheless! Does ‘through sickness and health’ mean nothing to people anymore?

As much as you didn’t care for Minho, the concept of adultery is and will always be preposterous! You were thinking in big words just so you could emphasis how much you hate the act of cheating!

“It seems like somebody is being unfaithful and I am trying to make sure I don’t make a memory of it,” you replied calmly with your eyes still shut and your body turned at the wrong person. It was hard to take you seriously. When there was only silence, you muttered to yourself, “God, I hope amnesia happens when I leave this world. This is not a good sight to remember for them.”

Minho furrowed his eyebrows at you after your answer. Surely, you wouldn’t accuse him of cheating? You barged in at the wrong time. You didn’t even try to understand the situation from his perspective. His arms were crossed in front of his chest to create a more dominant stance before he commanded, “[Name], open your eyes.”

“Did you not hear what I said–ah, you probably didn’t because I muttered.” You sniffed the tense air before you shook your head. “No. I am trying not to make a memory of this.”

“[Name], I said open your eyes,” Minho repeated louder once again. He marched over to you and, impulsively, gripped a stronghold of your chin to tilt your head up. “I said look at me!”

You snapped your eyes open at the forceful tug, a strangled noise bursting from your throat at his violent action. You weren’t scared, no, not at all. You were angry, annoyed, and actively seeking retaliation you would’t have engaged in back where you came from.

Your hand reached out to grip his wrist and you squeezed tightly until Minho showed a sign of discomfort on his face. A smile almost crept their way to your face; all those years carrying bags of groceries with your mom while walking home was worth it! But the matter at hand called for a more serious demeanour. This experience concerned not just yourself but whoever was once in your place. The aftermath of your choices would change their life, and your call was to stand up for them.

Your brows furrowed and your eyes flashed with cruel disbelief as you glared at him. Shoving his hand away from you, you croaked out, “How dare you treat them like this?”

Minho looked confused. Them? What did you mean? Who were you referring to? Before he could open his mouth to ask, you took a step back and glared pointedly at him. There were droplets in your eyes that you were unable to hide completely. Nobody has ever treated you this roughly before, but you weren’t upset. Those were frustrated waters. The more visible part of your hooded eyes wore a deep-seated contempt that Minho has never seen from you before.

You felt like a completely different person to him.

“I can’t believe they love you,” you sneered. “How could anyone ever love you like this?”

Like a bullet, your words pierced through him, hitting bull's eye on his board of insecurities. He was rendered speechless at your words. All he could do was cast his gaze down at the floor and think about them. You, taking the silence as an opportunity, glanced back at the girl who stood quietly behind Minho. She didn’t quite return your gaze, possibly shocked to hear such harsh and defensive words coming out of your mouth. Not once did you consider how she was feeling. She was practically invisible until her appeared in your sight.

You rolled your eyes before you turned and left the room. All thoughts to thank him earlier vanishing in thin air, and it would take quite the journey before they come back to you.

You stomped to the living room and into the kitchen. The subtle change from the carpet floor to the marble tiles was magnified under the pressure of your feet. The cold didn’t even bother you that much, your mind was too occupied with the previous event involving Minho.

As soon as you walked into the open kitchen, you found a milk-colored paper bag sitting on the edge of the countertop with a name printed in the middle in a pretty, cursive font. Your eyes softened for a moment when you acknowledged that the bag contained the food Minho went and got for you, but the softness lasted only a millisecond as your mind repeatedly recalled the incident seconds ago.

Anger filled your eyes like an ocean. Who was he to do that? If he had let you go like a normal person and not pull that violent stunt on you, you would have never been this riled up. You didn’t care that he was cheating; it wasn’t like he was cheating on you per se. You cared that he thought it was okay to grab you (or ‘you’)!

Turning away from the takeout bag, you approached the refrigerator and opened it to search for some eggs and meat so you could cook a meal like you used to do when you finally run out of instant noodle packs to boil. After taking out the necessary ingredients, you searched through the cabinets to find a pan to use but it was to no avail. Everything was either bowls and plates or more salt and sugar.

A frustrated huff escaped your lips, your cheeks puffing out and you gritted your teeth before you slammed the cabinet door shut. You stood up from the ground with a curse under your lips and your hands on your hips. With light sweat on your forehead and your unsightly floral pajama set, [Name], you do look like someone’s grandparent at the moment.

Footsteps made you avert your attention from the hiding pan to where the sound came from. Stumbling into your sight was the girl you just saw, with Minho following shortly behind her. You met eyes with him first, and despite wanting to peel your eyes away from him, you held onto his gaze challengingly to make a point. Minho felt his hands tremble as his mind suffered a faint disassociation.

He was right. You were not the person he knew anymore.

Turning around to look at the eggs and frozen meat you set on the kitchen counter, you stared at it as if contemplating your next move, then you turned back to the two with a shrug. Your tone was beyond slurred and impolite. “Where is the pan?”

“What do you need it for?” Minho asked.

“To knock you out,” you deadpanned, then you visibly scoffed with an eye-roll. “For cooking. Have you never seen people use one before?”

“I bought the food already.”

“I know.” You made a beckoning gesture with your hand. “Tell me where the pan is.”

“You don’t even know how to cook,” the girl interjected, her brows furrowing slightly at your vindictive tone as she assumed your poor attitude here was to compensate for what you just saw of her and Minho.

“Are we friends? I don’t know you,” you said factually.

She laughed in disbelief. “You do know me. I’m Yuna.”

“Nice to meet you, Yuna, but I’m afraid I won't try to remember,” you said, eyes scratching fire on her skin. She looked taken back by your gaze, which may be the reason why she didn’t retaliate. Glaring back at Minho, you waited for him to answer your question about the location of a cooking pan. You didn’t know if he simply refused to tell you anything or if he didn’t know either, but you snapped either way as your patience reached its limit.

Widening your eyes at him in disbelief, you exclaimed, “Oh my god, Minho! Just tell me where the fucking pan is so I can make myself dinner!”

Now it was Minho who looked startled. You narrowed your eyes at him then, trying to piece together exactly who you used to be before this soul-switching event happened. Judging from how shocked both him and Yuna were, you must have been one mellow and kind person. It was not to say you didn’t possess those traits either. You definitely did, but Minho has done nothing to deserve your goodness, and you would not be the bigger person and give it to him.

“I asked a simple question.” You rolled your eyes and waved your hands in front o your chest in a dismissive manner as you moved from your spot to head out of the kitchen. “I’ll ask someone else.”

Minho watched as you stomped out of the kitchen. When you brushed past him, he wanted to reach his hand out to stop you from leaving. For what reason? He could not conclude. He wanted to answer your question, which was that he could only guess where all the cooking utensils were because he’s not once tried to make dinner. He wanted to ask you to clarify a few things, starting from what happened to you. He wanted to urge you to calm down. Mostly, he wanted to apologize for what he did to you.

But his muscles were rigid and his heart hollowed when he turned to your leaving figure. Your words echoed in his head over and over again. How could anyone ever love you like this? How could anyone ever love you like this, Minho? How?

The sound of a door slamming could be heard all the way from where he stood. Minho licked his lower lip slowly in realization, a realization that relied on a mere assumption. It could explain your sudden change of attitude, at least. The thought jolted his mind awake and he turned around, preparing to leave the kitchen and go after you for answers.

Have you stopped loving him? Or, judging by those words, have you ever loved him?

“Hey, where’re you going?” Yuna asked when he noticed his urgency.

“I’m going to talk to them,” he replied.

“But they’re mad at you–“

“I know.”

“So don’t go. They wouldn’t want to talk to you anyway,” she said with a half-smile.

“I can’t, Yuna. I need to talk to them about something important.” Minho carefully moved his hand out of her grasp. “Something is off about them, I can feel it..”

“You can wait a while, Minho.” She tugged onto his arm again. “You should let them cool off. How about we sit down and eat?”

Minho paused to consider the suggestion. You were angry. He could tell by the stomping and the glaring and the cursing. Since he has never seen you like this, there was no guessing to what intensity your anger could rise. You might start throwing sharp objects at him for all he knew. But somehow, that only made him want to ‘resolve’ the situation even more. It felt as if there was a clock hanging above your head, counting down each second of him stalling and not talking about what happened, and when the clock ticks zero it would be too late for him.

(It should have been too late for him ages ago, but ‘you’ had been patient, far too patient with him.)

“I can’t. I have to go talk to them now,” he replied and once again moved his arm away. This time, he quickly took a few steps away so he could be out of reach. He gave Yuna a short smile. “Go home, okay? Text me when you get back safely.”

Yuna watched with slumped shoulders as Minho quickly made his way up the stairs and disappeared into the hallway. Her lips pursed, confused and disappointed.

She has liked Minho for as long as she could remember now. As horrible as the arranged marriage was to her, Minho has never expressed a fondness for you and that he has never shown any form of attachment towards this arrangement. If anything, he has been nothing but spoiled and distant when it came to you. It was only because of that. That was the only reason why she reacted well with the marriage and that her love-struck mind deemed it moral to try and steal Minho away from you.

But why? Why was Minho so caught up now?

Yuna ran a hand through her long, silky hair. She glanced around the kitchen, her eyes settling on the takeout dinner. She gulped nervously. Before she left the house, she grabbed the food with her.

You were too caught up in your thoughts to hear the doors to the closet opening. Your head was lowered to stare at the ground visible between your crossed legs. One of your hand was at the mercy of your nail-biting habit while the other one was clenched into a tight fist and resting on top of your ankle. You were hunched in the middle of your enormous closet, mumbling out your thoughts.

Your initial goal was to live this life of yours as invisibly as you could. You were not going to destroy this person’s life. You were not going to destroy their relationships and definitely not their marriage. For as long as you would be here, you would try to go along pretending like you were somebody else. When you finally leave this place, you would hand this life back to the original ‘you’ as if they never left!

Your goal was facing a bit of an intrusion—Lee Minho.

Without any attachment and responsibilities, it was easy to stand up to him. Doing it for the sake of a weaker person was even easier to do. Who was he to be so rough with his spouse? What was his problem? Not to mention that incident was not the only bad example you could raise, there were so many more things about him that were unlikely and unfathomable! You were considering whether you want to help ‘you’ do the deed and cut all ties with Minho.

He was not good for you, and the original you were probably too in love to see that. That must be why they stayed, considering there was a lack of evidence for any hostage or abusive scenarios. Therefore, you would be more than happy to help them get out of this situation, even though it might hurt them in the short run. To be extra cautious, you could write a explanation letter and conduct a plan for their temporary financial coverage if confirmed that Minho was their only source of security.

You could do this. You could save a life! Hurray [Name], you’re finally doing something useful!

“What are you mumbling about?” Minho asked as he knelt on one knee in front of your hunched figure.

You snapped your head up and immediately, your thoughtful eyes turned into a glare. You rasped out a yell, “None of your business!”

His expression did not waver, so you scoffed. “What the hell are you doing here? You can’t be checking up on me.”

“Why can’t I be?” Minho tilted his head to the side.

“Because you are an asshole.” Yu rolled your eyes, finally having the sense to scoot away from him. You sat up straight, still glaring at him but the tension in your muscles has slightly relaxed upon seeing his soft, but still stoic, gaze. “Seriously, what do you want?”

“I’m checking up on you,” he replied. “What are you doing in the closet out of all places?”

“I love this closet. You wouldn’t know.” You shrugged and turned to the side, facing the light around the mirror on your table. “It is quiet. It helps me think.”

“What are you thinking about?” Minho asked, his eyes never leaving you as if he was trying to catch every detail of your movements.

You didn’t answer for a short minute, your eyes boring holes into the wooden desk. When you finally did, you have already made the difficult decision in your head, and you were completely ready to execute it.

“I am deciding if I have ever loved you. It seems like I haven’t,” you told him with a neutral expression as if you were spilling nothing but information that contained no emotional destruction within them. “Or maybe I did, but I certainly don’t now.”

Minho’s mind blanked out. There was his answer. The only thing that was circulating his head were your words, and he didn’t understand why they hurt him so much. He, too, knew he had been distant and cruel to you for most of the marriage. There was no reason for him or anybody else to believe he would ever be sad if the marriage breaks up somehow. But he was hurting. Hearing you confess your lack of endearment stung him like a needle to the skin.

Immediately putting on a facade, Minho raised an eyebrow and he leaned away a little. “Really? Well, what do you suggest we do then?”

You blinked at his cooperative response. This was going too well for your liking, but perhaps your fate had decided to finally be nice to you for once. Shrugging at him, you said, “What else can we do? Let’s talk divorce.”

His heart jumped at the word but his face controlled all that he could express. The jump was not hectic enough for him to burst out of his usual character yet. Heaving out a heavy sigh, Minho smirked with a laugh. “Yeah, right. Why would the people who forced us together agree to separate us?”

It was your turn to laugh now. Everything was going as planned. You should be suspicious of that, but you’d rather relish in the present. “Oh, Minho,” you mused. “There isn’t much you know about arranged marriages, do you?”

He furrowed his brows at you in confusion, and for once you finally let your guard down. Standing up, you urged him to do the same as you walked over to the door. “Come on. I’ll cook us some food and we’ll talk about it together.”

“Like I said, I already got food.” Minho rolled his eyes as he stood up and followed suit behind you, his heart still beating fast.

You glanced down at your slippers and hummed. Now that he’s somewhat agreed to separation, you decided you no longer have to hold a grudge against him. Having some good, expensive food and talking about the shining end to your marriage sounded like a very great end to this problem. Turning to look behind your shoulder, you nodded at him. “Alright, let’s see what you got.”

If all goes as you assumed, you were almost one hundred percent sure his mother hates your guts. Unfortunately, the way to a perfect divorce in these dramatic circumstances was always through the male protagonists’ snobby and obnoxious mother, but you’ve got that covered! You’ve consumed so much media, these archetypes of people were predictable to you.

You waited anxiously at the extravagant coffee house. It was a place for flower teas in floral China cups and overpriced cupcakes stacked in the shape of a fountain. You felt heavily out of place even with the expensive clothes you were wearing, and oh boy, were you anxious about being seen in public when your insides were scrambled with feelings of not belonging. Nobody could read your thoughts, but what if they could?

The conversation you had with Minho last night was a never-ending cycle of you trying to explain divorce to him and him shooting down all the possibilities you pull out of your pocket. He was defending this marriage like he wanted to keep it, and strangely, you would not be surprised that he did. After all, Minho could very well be that male character who was just stoic on the outside but was actually very sensitive on the inside.

However, that was none of your businesses. Who Minho was on the inside didn’t matter to you whatsoever. It poses no value if all he ever does is hide that part of him and mask himself with a terrible facade. An asshole with a secretly good heart is just an asshole. You have made the goal to divorce him, and there was that.

"Oh! There you are!”

An auntie-like voice jolted you out of your nervous state of mind, and you moved your eyes to find an old lady pulling out the chair before you and sitting down. She wore minimal makeup on her face, just enough to make her wrinkly skin shine over her old age. Her clothes were tacky and have an expensive air to them, which was typical of most expensive clothes. You supposed you were in no place to judge.

“I am so sorry for being late!” she said. “I hope you haven’t been here for too long.”

“No, I got here five minutes ago.” You shrugged dismissively, your eyes too focused on watching her movement.

She who sat before you was none other than Minho’s mother, or so you thought who would be the bitch of the century. But everything she showed was against your normal drama characterizations—no tense shoulders, no frown, no condescending gaze, and no slow talking with an old woman nasal tone.

Instead, her eyes were warm as they glanced at you as if you were a long lost child of hers. She was more polite than ever as she explained why she was late for this supposed divorce conference you planned. This was completely unexpected. You weren’t sure how to react now that the possibility of not being able to bring up a divorce has risen.

“Do you know what you want to order?”

You blinked a few times at her and glanced down at the menu. You haven’t gotten the time to look at it, but it felt like you would lose your appetite as soon as you look at the prices printed on the menu. Picking up the menu, you gave her a faint smile and opened the booklet with a thick velvet cover. You laughed a little at yourself. There were no prices labeled. Of course. Rich people need not know how much things cost. Those irresponsible midgets only pay.

“I will get the green tea cake. It is my favorite,” she mentioned, finally setting down the menu.

“Oh, really? Then I guess I should try that out too,” you quickly followed, not really bothering to decide what you feel like consuming as you were already too busy thinking of what to do with your plan.

“Okay great! Let me call the waiter over!”

You smiled at her blindly, still not paying any attention to your surroundings. Oh, you have caught yourself on another stump, [Name]. While still wanting a divorce—oh god, this word would not be leaving your mind anytime sooner—you were starting to think perhaps Minho’s sweet mother would not be the easiest way to signing the papers. She doesn’t seem to hate you at all, which only served as a disadvantage to you in this situation.

You hummed. There was that. But just because she really liked you wouldn’t mean you couldn’t talk to her about wanting to end a marriage with her son. Perhaps a more civilized conversation could be held where you two talk the arranged marriage over like actual adults, and she would most likely only convince you to rethink your decision more carefully without knowing you already did.

It was not the path you were hoping to cross but it would still be a path with the desired result at the end, so you supposed there was no harm in being honest about what you want.

“What is it that you want to talk to me about?”

Alas, a lot of things are easier said than done. I am pretty sure you knew that fairly well with your many years of experience on Earth.

“I… uh…” You clenched your fists and squinted your eyes uncomfortably. The way you kept reminding yourself to be honest did nothing to your feelings.

Minho’s mother tilted her head to the side as her forehead creased with confusion. It was an expression she has never seen you have before, an expression that looked as if you were holding something back because you have something bad to say. To her knowledge, you never needed to say anything bad enough that it punches your moral consciousness in the gut. Not to her, at least. Not even when it was about her son.

“Is it about Minho–“

“I want a divorce.”

The second your voice dropped, so did her expression. You couldn’t look at her, and the striking remorse was baffling you. None of this was your fault, nor have you spend enough time to develop a bond with Minho’s mother, so why should you feel bad about telling her you wanted to leave her son? These people were all strangers! Was this the power of innate empathy people kept yapping about needing to possess?

A look of realization was apparent in her overall troubled expression. Her eyes sparking a hint of light as it dawned on her that Minho has finally done something that reached and crossed the breaking point for you, and it has tempted you to properly ask for a divorce. After the sudden startlement came a wave of tranquility, as if she already knew this would happen sooner or later.

“We can’t do that.” That was all she told you.

“Minho already told me about everything when we discussed this yesterday,” you pressed on carefully. “Legally, I can.”

She gave you a faint look of surprise, possibly from hearing that you and Minho had already talked this over. Then she sighed with a shook of her head. "If you two do get a divorce, there would be no reason for my husband to continue sponsoring your father’s company and keep it going. Your father’s legacy will fall.”

You held back a witty remark at the fact that she was talking as if your father was some prophet who died saving the world and you were supposed to be in line for his succession. Both your father and her husband were both just the CEO of some really big company, you assumed. You didn’t even know what company it was! Cosmetic? Convenience store? Toilet seats? You’d say let it crumble, but for the sake of who would inhabit your being when you return to your world, you denied that approach.

“Why do I have to marry your son for your husband to sponsor my father’s company?” you asked instead. “Sponsorship doesn’t require marriage. It only requires money.”

“Money requires relations,” she said. “He has no reason to help your father when your family was facing bankruptcy until you and Minho got married.”

You pursed your lips together. “There is no relationship going on between me and Minho.”

“And nobody has to know that,” she said, looking at you pointedly. For the first time, the soft aura she exuded was replaced with something formal, more businesslike. “Nobody knows that your marriage is an unhappy one except for me, [Name]. You were the one who caved in and told me.”

Minho had the sense to at least pretend as if he liked you in public. That was rather unexpected even though ‘acting as if everything is okay in front of people’ has always been the first rule to these arranged marriages. And the former you, too, knew enough to not show Minho that they were both uncomfortable and unappreciated when they were with him.

Your hand flew up to your chin, and your fingertips lingered against the aftertouch of Minho’s grip. Your memories had conveniently left out the part where you dug your nails into his skin until it hurt and you never tried to see if his wrist was okay.

“I know Minho can be a little insufferable sometimes, but I hope that you can remember how much you love him whenever those times come,” she leaned forward to speak, her tone much more sympathetic now. “Of course, I am not telling you to never get mad at him. I just hope that you can love him, always, even when you hate him.”

You blinked nervously at her. That was profoundly cheesy and unrealistic. It wasn’t impossible, though. You were sure the former you had mastered the art of hating and loving Minho as a husband. But you weren’t them, and while you didn’t outrightly refuse to fall in love with Minho, he has done absolutely nothing to gain your good interest. The condescending gazes, the potential cheating, the dull voice, the rules, and bad temper—you just couldn’t like him at the moment. And if he doesn’t come back around and change his attitude, you were afraid the impression would become too hard to budge.

“And if that has become too hard for you to deal with, at least do it for your parents’ sake.”

Oh, she pulled the ‘dead parents’ card on you, [Name]! Destroying a person’s love life, even though it was a terrible love life, was a kind of guilt you believed you would get over eventually. But their parents were a whole different story. Family relationship was always a pickle. You’d hate to open the cabinet and steal the bones of those dusty skeletons with you. You wouldn’t suffer real consequences, only those your conscience imposes upon you.

You scrunched your nose up in dismay, feeling stubborn and wanting to act on it so badly, but the situation was starting to feel more and more hopeless as it went on. Biting your lower lip, you asked with a soft voice, not wanting to startle any unwanted suspicion. “Do I… do I even love him at all?”

The look she gave you was patient as if she understood your mixed feelings. She nodded her head. “You have always told me you do. Unless you are lying to me, I don’t see how you don’t love my son.”

You grimaced. No duh? She would think the former you was in love with her son unless it was found to be a lie. That sentence didn’t need to be said. Nevertheless, you glanced down at your hands and clenched them together. You felt like yourself, you looked like yourself, and you sounded like yourself. However, no matter from which part you look at, this wasn’t your life. This ‘rich husband and a bad arranged marriage’ life wasn’t yours. The ‘working overtime and dunking down ramen soup’ life was yours and where you were only qualified enough to live.

If divorcing Minho would come with a package that held more than just leaving a toxic relationship, you would rather not do it. Suffering all the other consequences wasn’t your choice to make.

Seeing the amount of stress that engulfed your body when you finally finished with lunch, your driver took the liberty to drive you all the way to a shopping mall so you could enjoy yourself and cool off some steam. It was a very heartwarming gesture, and you didn’t forget to thank him before you left the car and waited for him to drive away.

The shopping mall was regular. It was the kind of mall you would come across if you joined a tour group to travel to another country. You also liked to call it the shopping mall where you only walk in and never buy anything because every store inside was either too expensive or not of your taste. Most likely both. Despite having more than a sufficient amount of money on your hands at the moment, you just could not shake off the lack of interest for any of these high-end brands.

Puffing air into your cheeks, you chewed on the boba you just bought from a store located at a rather invisible corner. It was the only item you were willing to spend money on, and thank god the store did not try to amp up the prices as Disneyland would with a bottle of tasteless water just because it was located somewhere lavish.

Your mind has wandered off once again, as it has been doing recently. With these events happening all at once, and with your drama-obsessed brain’s absolute calculation, there was one very important thing missing from your life right now: the best friend.

It could be a man or a woman. Depending on the gender, their personalities would vary greatly in the most predictable and distasteful way ever. The man would be great; handsome, caring, smart, and unfortunately a doormat for everyone to step over. The woman, which you had a suspicion may be a role filled by Yuna already, would be terrible; beautiful but jealous and shallow. From what you’ve experienced, your best friend would mostly likely be a man. Possibly extremely in love with you but somehow never got picked, and now his opportunity has vanished due to an arranged marriage.

“Yeah–where is my super hot best friend?” You stopped in the middle of the mall, eyes narrowed in dissatisfaction and lips jutted out into a thoughtful pout. You were dying to meet him, whoever he may be, all just to get a sense of relief that you’ve got somebody to lean on at a time like this.

(You wouldn’t fool me, though. I know you want to satisfy your second-lead syndrome.)

Continuing to walk, your hearing slowly came back to reality and your ears began to pick up noises outside of those in your brain. A very familiar voice rang around your area and you paused once again to hear it more clearly.

“Come on, wouldn’t I look nice in this? Let’s go in, Minho!”

Your eyes rounded at the name and you pursed your lips together. How uncanny. You have never experienced such outrageous coincidence before. Out of all the shopping malls in this country, your husband has to be this particular one and at this particular spot. You squinted your eyes then, your straw sucking up nothing because it was pulled half-way into the air where there were no liquid. A continuous hallowing noise came through the suction, but you didn’t care. This was adding up to the scene of a misunderstanding.

What should you do, you wondered. Make a scene? Complain? Cry about your cheating husband even though he probably wasn’t cheating? If only you were at a fancy restaurant! You’ve always wanted to throw a glass of wine at someone’s face!

“Walk away, [Name],” you muttered to yourself, even after all those excited thoughts, and you fastened your pace.

“Oh–hey! Hey, [Name], is that you?”

You almost choked on the boba in your mouth. Pressing your lips together, you snapped your head up with the most menacing glare you could muster to flash it at the new intruder, and immediately you came face to face with a man with the cutest grin you have ever seen. A strangled noise blew from your throat and came out of your pursed lips, almost out of your nostrils. It was an ugly sound but you could not care less as you beamed inwardly at the sight of the man approaching you. Chubby cheeks, nice smile, not very tall but muscular!

“Oh my god,” you whispered under your breath, “it’s you.”

“Yes, is it I,” he laughed at you. “Why? Did you miss me?”

“Definitely, you have no idea.” You nodded, still chewing on your boba.

He looked surprised for a moment as he tilted his head and that bright smile dimmed. His eyes turned into those of observant ones as he started to look you up and down, then he reached out to pinch your cheek gently while he hummed.

“[Name]…” he started slowly. “You look different. Did you do something–”

“Hands off, Seo Changbin.”

Hands off—what, oh my lord. You widened your eyes at the three simple yet demanding words, and you found your stupid heart leaping at them. Pursing your lips, you lowered your head to hide a smile. God, [Name], how low are your standards? How did that manage to get your heart racing?

Minho didn’t attempt to swat Changbin’s hand away from you, the latter did it on impulse upon seeing the unamused expression on Minho’s face. Raising an eyebrow, Changbin showed nothing more than a sarcastic smile as he leaned back on his weight and stared Minho down lazily from behind you.

“Minho, how wonderful to see you here,” Changbin greeted. His eyes darted to the side to find Yuna walking up to join the gathering, and his forehead creased with light anger for a second.

Shifting his gaze to you, he was surprised to find you sipping on your drink casually as your eyes darted between Yuna and Minho, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He raised an eyebrow at you and stood up straighter, completely confused by the lack of pain flickering in your eyes.

“Hey, Minho,” you greeted. “Hello to you too, Yuna.”

They looked as if they just got called out but despite the faintly rooted embarrassment, the two of them returned the greeting politely. The tension was high and thick, you couldn’t break it with just anything. Not even with a wave of Yuna’s perfectly manicured and sharp nails, which if you’ve had tried, they’re almost impossible to chip on purpose.

“Well, if there is nothing important, I will be leaving.” You shrugged, not quite looking at Minho in the eyes. You couldn’t. Not after having lunch with his mother and after everything she has told you about him. Turning around, you smiled at Changbin. “I am hungry. Can we find somewhere to sit down and eat? Preferably a place with normal, human portion food.”

Changbin cleared his throat. Your remarks were weird. He discreetly threw a glance at Minho, not so much asking for permission but to access the sudden change of dynamic between you two. The man looked even more off-putting than you did, like he was confused and failing to pretend he understood the situation. It was hilarious. Changbin smirked to himself and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

You gave him a soft smile of gratitude, happy that he agreed with no trouble. You didn’t suspect he would anyway; he was supposed to be a pushover. When you turned to Minho again, he looked as stoic as he has always been. You shivered at his expression and gave him a grimace. “Stop frowning, Minho. Your face will get stuck like that.”

Changbin stifled a laugh while Yuna widened her eyes in displeasure. She opened her mouth to speak, but she found it hard to shoot down the truth. Minho does keep his expression on constant angry mode and, while she wouldn’t bluntly say it the way you just did, she also would not mind seeing Minho crack a smile now and then.

“How do you expect me to smile when my spouse is out with someone else?”

“Rethink your sentence.” You glanced between him and Yuna.

Minho noticed and heaved a sigh as he closed his eyes. He explained, “I didn’t plan to come out with her. She dragged me out here.”

You felt bad, and with your world’s state of capitalism and experiences of borderline free labor, feeling bad for someone that wasn’t yourself could be considered a golden empathetic response. Pursing your lips and sucking in a big, unwilling breath, you settled into a leg shaking motion to replace stomping in public like a child. You stopped after a brief moment once you realized you were too occupied with getting to know Changbin to care.

“Well,” you said, gesturing towards the heartbroken girl and already turning away. “There is no harm in letting her drag you around for another hour. You’re gonna have fun! I’ll see you at some point!”

Waving those two a generous goodbye, you quickly beckoned for Changbin to follow you before Minho could get the chance to say something your pettiness has to respond to. After walking for a little, Changbin finally breathed out a puff of air as he placed his hand on his chest to release the awkward tension.

“That was weird,” he said. “But hey, you handled that well! I am really surprised… and confused, I guess?”

“Of course I handled that well. Who do you think I am?” You rolled your eyes.

He laughed. “I guess there isn’t anything for you to worry about. You two are happily married after all.”

You blinked at his response, confused for only a short moment before you quietly exhaled an 'oh.’ Minho’s mother was telling the truth, 'you’ really did not tell anyone else aside from her about how unhappy this marriage has been for you and Minho. Not even the best friend knew.

You looked at the ground. Damn, you were hoping you could ignite some feverish fire between you two. Changbin seemed like someone who you could have amazing chemistry with, as best friends and perhaps, as lovers. However, judging by the way he acted around Minho and how he didn’t seem to mind your marriage at all, you doubted his affection for you was any more than just very close friends. The best friend zone—a delicate place, with steel walls and whatnot.

“Yeah, I really wouldn’t worry.” You smiled.

“Besides, if anything is to happen to Minho and Yuna then it would have ages ago.” Changbin shrugged. “Nothing ever did.”

You grimaced at his remark. Oh god, Yuna. You poor girl.

Minho looked up at the clock. He could feel his anxiousness increase as the clock ticked away the morning after midnight. Checking his phone again, it took him another glance at his zero missed calls and zero new texts to remember you had left your phone at home before you went outside this afternoon.

Changbin still has not read the single, semi-threatening text Minho sent before ten o'clock asking about your whereabouts and demanding him to send you home immediately. He did figure that a reply would be too generous of an act from Changbin. For one, Changbin hated Minho. For two, you were forcibly married to Minho, which only made the hatred go even deeper into the ground. At this point, Minho was one broken secret away from being torn to shreds by your best friend.

He bit his lower lip as his eyes trailed over to the clock once again.

Where were you? You have never been home this late before. Not to mention your actions today at the shopping mall! It was nothing like what Minho thought you were capable of! You had never once ditched him to hang out with Changbin. He practically doesn’t exist whenever you so much as feel Minho’s presence, not because you were scared of him but because you genuinely did love him.

You did love him, did you not? He was sure you did.

In the midst of his thoughts, the front door to the house conveniently swung open. You stepped into the living room and immediately, the old lady who you saw the other morning rushed up to you with a worried look on her face.

“Where have you been!” She lightly hit your arm as she scolded.

You gave her a faint laugh. Her harmless scolding was endearing to you. You hadn’t known you shared such an affectionate dynamic but you weren’t surprised, nor were you opposed to it.

“Changbin took me to a lot of places,” you replied. “Today was fun!”

“Oh, dear lord–and you left your phone at home too!” she said. “You got Minho worried sick–you got me worried sick! I was gonna go home but I wanted to make sure you will come back safely.”

To be frank, you had beeped her out for the most part of her words. Mildly focusing on cooing at her about how Changbin had taken very good care of you this whole day, and her looking as if you were chanting some forbidden spell because you were talking about another man, your mind lingered on the piece of information she gave you: you got Minho worried sick.

Call it your calculative and distrusting nature, but you were having a hard time believing he did it out of care. He thought you unfaithful likely just as much as you thought him. You were okay with the feelings being mutual for now.

“I’m sorry for coming back so late. I will make sure to bring my phone next time.”

“You make sure to come back home early next time!” she exclaimed. “Don’t forget your phone again!”

“Okay, I promise.” You nodded, pursing your lips into a grin.

She waved at your expression that mirrored that of an ignorant child. You were listening, you just weren’t really taking her seriously, in the most respectful and playful way possible.

“You kids,” she sighed and placed her wrinkly hand on your arm. “Have you eaten? Are you hungry?”

Your chest warmed and you instantly knew why. You missed your mom. She would probably pamper you like this too if you ever came home this late, and probably with a much longer and serious lecture. You wouldn’t know, though. You lived far and you were always working now that you have grown up. Once you were able to return to your world, you figured giving your parents a visit wouldn’t be a bad idea.

“I did. I ate dinner,” you said. “I am really full.”

“Are you sure? I can cut you some apples if you want. There are fruits in the kitchen! Or maybe you want some oranges?”

“No, that’s okay.” You smiled at her gratefully. “I am full. I ate so much today.”

“Okay,” she said, albeit she appeared suspicious. “If there is nothing else then I am going to go home.”

“Now? It’s really late. Why don’t you stay here?” you suggested, turning around to look out the window by the door before turning back to her.

“No worries. The driver was waiting for you to come home too so I can ask for a free ride,” she laughed as she moved over to the front door. Before she left, she turned around to face you slightly, and she nagged, “Go tell Minho you’re back!”

You only gave her a forced smile in response. As soon as those doors closed, a sarcastic and exaggerated grimace appeared on your face. You turned around, walking into the house as you mumbled mean nothings under your breath about not believing that Minho was actually worried about your whereabouts. He’s definitely got better things to do, and it wasn’t as if he cared. Why should he worry? This has to be a dignity issue.

Despite not wanting to talk to him, you found yourself walking to his office anyway. Clearing your mind and your throat, you pursed your lips together in dismay before you knocked on the door. Your eyes widened when it immediately swung open, the lack of waiting you needed to do startling you. Minho’s furrowed brows relaxed for a brief second at the acknowledgment that you were fine and back under the roof, but as usual, he returned to his annoyed state before you could catch the concern appearing in his eyes.

He thought twice about reaching over to grab your arm so he could pull you into the room; the emotional fragment in his chest still aching, even though it wasn’t his place to hurt over something he did to you. Hesitantly taking a step back, he opened the door wider and cleared his throat to put emphasis on his current, very annoyed mood. “We need to talk.”

That is never good. The words itself were fine, but the gloomy tone was never good. Despite never hearing that from anybody other than your parents, your muscles clenched at the simple idea of what that line contained, especially now that you were supposedly married. Taking a tentative step forward, you spared Minho a glance before you walked into the office and paused right in the middle of the room.

You grimaced at the memory of when you were here last time. It was not a good sight to see, not that you had many complaints about whatever really went down back then because you still, until this moment, have zero care of Minho’s love life outside of this failing marriage. The grimace on your face expanded when the door slammed shut. You turned around and eyed Minho with a surprised look.

He glared back at you, obviously angry, and you seemed to have an idea as to why that was. He walked near you, but not close enough to create too much intimidation, and he crossed his arms. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’ve been out,” you said, calmly in hopes that it would rub off on him. “To malls and the streets. Nowhere too far away from here.”

“You were out for really long. Do you know what time it is?” He asked. “It’s way past midnight!”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that, really,” you said. “I wasn’t actively checking the time and, well, one thing led to another and by the time we finished chatting, it’s past twelve!”

Minho gulped down the competitiveness that arose when he heard that you have been out with Changbin for the entire day, having fun and chatting like a pair of best friends, which he often forget you were. It should be normal but Minho could not help the tinted jealousy that continued to pour out of his lips in the form of regrettable words. Not to mention, his feelings were magnified after the conversation you both had about a divorce.

He has really gotten too used to receiving your undivided love and attention that, upon the vaguest chance of anybody stealing the throne away, he growls and attacks to make sure he keeps it to himself. Rolling his eyes, he scoffed out a laugh, the corner of his lips quirked up into an unamused smirk. His arms fell from his chest and landed on his side where they found a place to rest on his hips.

“Oh, right, I forgot you were having fun with Changbin.”

“Oh?” The questioning sound was inaudible. Your mind spun fast to understand what he meant with those petty words, and despite being quite entertained by his reaction, you still felt bitter at how unfairly he was treating you. “Yet, you are with Yuna today.”

“Like I said, she dragged me out–“

“You are a grown, not to mention a man. You have more than enough capability to refuse any unwanted situation,” you said. “All you had to do was tell her no. She would have listened to you considering how much she likes you.”

“What? You’re just going to be mad at me about that for the rest of your life?” Minho clicked his tongue in annoyance. He ran a hand through his hair, turning away to convince himself not to explode. “You know, I’ve got plenty of reasons to be mad at you about too!”

You shrugged. “Enlighten me.”

“You went to talk to my mom about getting a divorce,” he accused, his eyes sparklingly wide. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was so upset that he was about to cry.

A part of you was shocked that she told on you, but you wouldn’t put the blame on her for talking to her own son about his relationship. You just hoped she didn’t disclose in detail what you talked to her about. After all, you have really only known Minho for a few days. Your bad opinions of him, although true, were not ideals you wanted to weigh on his back for the rest of his life. A couple of days should not sum up his entire life.

However, in the heat of this situation, your logic was completely thrown out and you both were only aiming to hurt and blame each other as much as you could.

“Huh… I see.” Your shoulder relaxed and your gaze softened as a realization dawned upon you. “You aren’t mad about me coming home late. You don’t care about that at all,” you breathed out a faint, bitter chuckle, “you’re just mad because I talked to your mom about getting a divorce and you got an earful today.”

“Oh, oh no. It is so much more than that.”

“What else are you mad about?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up as you desperately tried to defend yourself the same way Minho was trying to stand on his ground. “If this is about Changbin, I highly suggest you stop caring–“

“I have to care!” He raised his voice, taking a step towards you. He stopped when you took the same steps back. “We are married, and you just went running off with some other man for an entire day–”

“Let’s not act like you love me enough to care about who I am with, Minho,” you pointed out, furrowing your brows at him. “Even if we are married legally, emotionally, we are as connected as parallel lines.”

He paused at your pretentious yet still poetic line, wondering since when have you gotten the ability to talk with your chin up like that. Then he snapped back to the argument at hand, his head tilting to the side as he hardened his gaze at you. But he wasn’t that angry anymore. He was confused, or at least baffled. “You don’t think I care about you even a slightest bit?”

You heaved a sign. Well, let’s count off all the things he has done for you so far: putting you back to your bed after you fainted, buying you dinner, being a little possessive when Changbin was pinching your cheek, worrying about you being late. For sure, those were pretty heart-racing things to do, and it seemed the effect on your fragile feelings were magnified with his good-looks. But it would not be enough if he only does good things in the shadow. His pretty silhouette could never outrun the shadow that was his stone-cold facade, and he was over here chasing after the impossible sun.

“Maybe a little bit, but I don’t want to settle for a little bit of care,” you told him. “Especially when there is someone out there who is able to provide me with so much more straightforwardly.”

Minho laughed sardonically, rolling his eyes. “We just circle back to that insufferable best friend of yours–“

“No!” You snapped, clapping your hands together on impulse.

Your eyes were wide and teary now, you were really getting into the argument. It felt almost exhilarating; you have never fought with anyone like this before. Fighting over love and whatnot. It wasn’t what you hoped to do. You were really aiming for a much calmer conversation. But at the mention of Changbin, who has been nothing but patient and kind to you, you could not stop yourself from setting the record straight.

“This has nothing to do with Changbin. It has everything to do with you and your shitty attitude, Minho, starting from the first moment I met you until now!” You counted off your fingers, numbering the things he’s done. “You look at me like I’m beneath you. You talk to me like I’m not important at all. We don’t share a bed, we don’t share a closet. You set rules for me around the house. From the sound of it, I’m not even supposed to step into your room. Why is that, Minho? I am really curious about that, truly.”

You stopped talking, but you and him both knew there was more to say than all that you have spoken of.

“I have never complained about anything, have I? All I did is love you, and you took advantage of that to become a spoiled brat,” you said, your hands joined together for a moment before they released each other. Your fingers lingered on the ring, twisting it and turning it as you contemplated your next move.

Minho was speechless as he stared at the ground, but his head was positioned high enough for you to still see his expression. For the first time, he looked genuinely distressed. His fist clenched at his side and his lips trembling in realization. Of these past two days, of all the times before you were even here, of how he has treated you.

You breathed out a soft sigh after calming down. You were sure Minho must have good qualities in him that made ‘you’ fall in love with him in the first place. And, bouncing back to all the dramas you have watched, all characters like him are often too romantically incapable when it came to expressing their true feelings. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you, it was just that he didn’t know how to show it. People like him need a lot of time and comfort, which you were completely willing to give if he was willing to try.

“Look, Minho.” You volunteered to step up so you could be closer to him, closing the distance for an unreachable form of intimacy. You looked at him, an unknown feeling coming over you as you gently tipped his chin up with your fingertips. He looked at you, surprised, but he listened. “I am sure I loved you for a reason, but I can’t love you when you’re like this. I refuse to.”

“How could anyone ever love you like this?” Nobody can, Minho. Not when you couldn’t show the pile of gold locked up in your heart. What have you been so afraid of? Why wouldn’t you let it out?

Minho’s eyes watered and he bit his feelings back. “What do you want me to do?”

“If I tell you then there’s no meaning to it.” You shrugged as you let him go, and he missed the warmth of your touch. You reached for your own hand as you smiled politely at him. “You can hold onto this for me.”

You left the room after you handed him the object. The door closed behind him and Minho opened his hand. The wedding ring stood on his palm, shining bright and expensive.

It looked as if it would cost him his entire heart.

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dean-a-mean-tae · 4 months

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Why Won’t Bang Chan Let Nicholas Drink? | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

Chan tells STAY why Nicholas isn't allowed to drink.

WARNINGS: Nicholas is an emotional whiny drunk.

@cafekitsune made the dividers | Nicholas Ross Master List

Another Chan's Room episode and another chaotic conversation with STAY. Chan had been talking about his room when a comment caught his eye.

"Who in Stray Kids doesn't drink?" Chan read as he laughed. "I don't."

"Nicholas isn't allowed to drink," Chan continued as he watched the comments.

He thought of the first and last time Nicholas got drunk. It was a completely new experience with the younger boy, and Chan wasn't trying to have a repeat.

"Nicholas has only gotten drunk once, and I plan on keeping it that way," He laughed as he crossed his arms.

"Why isn't he allowed to drink?" Chan hummed in thought as he looked up.

"He gets super emotional," He answered as he tilted his head. "Like, everything makes him laugh or cry. There is no in-between."

He remembers the experience like it was yesterday.

"I still don't know how he got drunk. He was there one second, and he was gone the next."

"Does anyone know where Nick went?" Jeongin asked as he looked around the living room.

Everyone was at the 3racha + Hyunjin's dorm for a sleepover. They had pillows and blankets covering the floor with snacks and a hot meal Minho had cooked.

On the couch lay Felix, Seungmin, and Hyunjin. In front of them were Jisung and Minho, with Chan and Changbin to their right. That left Jeongin and Nicholas to lie on the left of Minho.

"He came out of nowhere, and Felix showed him something, and he just started crying."

Nicholas walked into the living room. Well, he waddled more than he walked. Moments showed where Minho came up with the nickname Penguin.

Without a word, Nicholas waddled over to Jeongin and kneeled over him before flopping down. Letting out an 'oof' when Nick collided with him, Jeongin wrapped his arms around the older.

"Look, Bug," Felix cooed, waving his hand at the tallest male. He smiled when Nicholas looked up at him with bleary eyes. "It's a kitty."

It was a kitten. A gorgeous tuxedo kitten wrapped up in a blanket like a baby. It's arms and legs were tucked away, so only its head stuck out of the burrito blanket.

While Jeongin smiled at the cat, Nicholas' eyes teared up. Felix frowned as he sat up, almost falling off the couch, trying to comfort the older male.

"It doesn't have any arms," Nicholas sniffled, snatching the phone from Felix and showing Minho the video. The shorter boy snorted before pausing.

He leaned forward and smelt Nicholas' breath before recoiling. Minho shouted as he pointed at the crying boy, "He's been drinking!"

"Why doesn't it have any arms?" Nicholas huffed, showing the phone to Hyunjin, who was cooing at him.

"I still don't know where he would have found it."

"How did he get liquor?! We don't have any here!" Chan shouted, running to get water for the now-crying Nicholas. He was wrapped in a pile of blankets, sandwiched between Hyunjin and Jisung. A giggling Jeongin was still under him.

Minho was fixing Nicholas a small plate of food so he wouldn't upset his stomach. While Changbin, Felix, and Seungmin watched the chaos that was Chan in the kitchen.

"Why doesn't it have any arms?" Nick cried.

“He also complains about the taste of it.”

"Hyunnie," Nick whined, and Hyunjin threw his head back to hide his smile before looking at the younger.

"What, darling?" He whispered, softly stroking Nick's cheek.

"I drank something disgusting," Nick sniffled. Everyone laughed as he whined at them.

"Yeah, he hates drinking, but he will if you just hand him something," Chan said, blinking fast to escape the memory. He smiled at STAY before moving on to the next question.

"Do we use Nick's height to our advantage? Of course!"

Nicholas Ross Master List

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin, You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

#deantae nicholas ross #skz 9th member #skz x reader #stray kids 9th member #stray kids x reader #stray kids x male reader #skz x 9th member #skz x male reader #9th member of skz #9th member of stray kids #stray kids with the 9th member #stray kids extra member #skz x oc #stray kids x oc

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skzloversblogsposts · 1 year

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BRUISES ON MY KNEES FOR YOU {L.M.H} {A}{F}

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *

summary :everyone makes mistakes every now and then but one too many mistakes is enough to drive anyone off the edge

warnings: leeknow is mean /curing /mentions of bruises and cuts[getting hurt]/angst /comfort towards the end / established relationship /mentions of ot8

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*

Lee know was an ass every now and then , you knew that, he knew it too that’s why it didn’t surprise you when he emerged from your shared bedroom, frown already visible on his face as he complained about you not taking out the trash , usually you would have just caved lugging yourself out of the house to complete the task however today was an exception .You tilted your head towards the window revealing the gloomy skies accompanied by the heavy downpour that was now surrounding your apartment .lee know said nothing, matter of fact he said nothing for so long that it lead you to get off the couch to join him to see what he was looking at ,to your dismay perfectly lined up next to the balcony railing was three litter boxes for your cats which were now completely filled with water soaking the last bit of the pack of litter completely causing it to clump up becoming unusable .Lee know grumbled “all three boxes y/n” he said evidently upset his eyes fixated on the boxes in the rain “I’m sorry I didn’t know they were out ..-“ you began “I’ll clean them up and go get another bag-“ lee know cut you off waving your thoughts away with his hand “don’t bother . I’ll do it .” he spoke bitterly.

You watched lee know empty and clean out the boxes , an umbrella in his hand to shield him from the rain that ultimately got blown upside down leaving him to fight the elements of nature without it . You sighed . He was upset . More than usual so much so that you could see the way his eyes narrowed at every small inconvenience and how he pursed his lips curses threatening to spill .It was Thursday and amongst your friend group Thursday meant game night , however it was also the night lee know would cook something new and rave about it while your friends tried it giving feedback .so without consulting the hothead outside who looked as if he would commit a murder if someone dared to speak to him you took it upon yourself to prepare the meal .

You’re not an incapable cook.. you’re pretty decent if you try it’s just you were used to cooking for small numbers of people , so when you heard lee know had seven grown men as friends you gladly handed in the towel and let him do the cooking ,which explains your rustiness now, which you realize as you pick up the knife expertly slicing the tip of your finger in an attempt to opening some packaging or when you burn the side of your arm rearranging the pots on the stove to cook faster or when you slip up and drop the grater on the floor effectively having it land on your toe causing you to yelp out in pain , or when you scratched the side of your face on one of the sharp ends of the counter while you reached down to retrieve something nevertheless it got done. You prepared the meal throwing your entire heart into it along with some tears for food measure confident it would taste good .

The day passed by pretty quickly , leeknow didn’t bother to speak to you , ignoring you as much as possible uttering a few words here and there and leaving remarks about your antics in the kitchen , currently you were seated on the edge of your bed deciding what to wear when a very stoic leeknow entered the room and grabbing his coat. “ you’re going somewhere?” You asked now standing trailing behind him , lee know remained silent ignoring your tugs against his arm “ store .” He said you looked at him puzzled -“ what are you going to get ?” You asked “ I’m going to get what YOU forgot to …the drinks ..god yn you have one simple task , just one fucking thing to do and you can’t even get it done , it’s actually funny “ he said before slipping out of the apartment door and into the cold leaving you standing in the middle of your apartment.

The evening went well so far aside fromleeknows outburst earlier things seemed okay. Lee know came back from the store , heated the food that you made and you answered the door when his friends came over “it’s so good to see you yn…here I got you these “ jisung handed you a bouquet of Lilly’s “they’re lovely I’ll put them in some water “ you said going to the kitchen and looking in the cupboards for a vase .” Top left “ lee know said from his spot on the couch , “the vases are in the top left cupboard, you’ve been living here for so long and you don’t even know where we keep things can you not even be othered to remember the simplest of things ...or is that my job too?” he rolled his eyes earning a few odd looks from his friends who could now sense the tension . Taking your place on the couch you were met with a few pitiful looks as the boys watched lee know ignore you , it went on for a while you’d talk to him he’d ignore you and his friends would look at you occasionally answering the questions you asked him ,eventually lee know had enough and decided it was time to eat getting up to set the table .

Standing up to help him he turned to you eyes glaring at your figure carefully moving around the boys to get to him” I don’t want your help” he started” you’ve done enough already” he said turning his back leaving you stunned “are you guys..okay? “ Felix asked pulling you into the seat next to him “doesn’t seem like it “ Jeongin answered “ you’re all acting as if Lee know isn’t a complete ass “ seungmin chimmed in earning a side look from Chan to watch his words , you didn’t reply , you didn’t really have much to say , where would you even start?

Lee knows been in a foul mood for the past few weeks and it probably was your fault , a week ago he asked you to wash a pair of his pants for practice ,which you forgot to do because you had work that day or when he asked you to clean out a cupboard because he didn’t have time to and you cleaned out the wrong one making him upset that he had to do it himself and fix the other or when you burnt his shirt trying to iron it for him when he clearly didn’t ask you to , there was too many things that went wrong over the last week that it was impossible to believe that he wasn’t upset because of you, sure you could chalk everything down to mistakes and bad luck ,saying you didn't mean any of it intentionally ,which you didn't it was still inevitable for you to not feel like absolute garbage in his presence .

Siting at the dinner table the boys looked at the meal you prepared , cheer and compliments were met with “wow”s that echoed around your apartment you really hoped it tasted good it was your last attempt to calm down whatever lee know was going through . You ran your spoon through the rice collecting enough and bringing it to your mouth - you froze looking around the table to be met with similar gazes cautiously looking between you and lee know ..it was salty ..too salty so salty that it dried out your throat and left your lips pursed , lee know oblivious to the situation that you and the boys communicated about through eye contact launches a spoonful of rice into his mouth dropping his spoon to the table looking up at you ,he proceeded to taste the other dishes a look of disgust on his face “ lee know I-“ you finally spoke “ everything’s salty yn “ he said his voice filled with malice “ why did you offer to do something you know you clearly can’t do , are you that stupid huh? Could you not just let me do it and maybe just maybe it would have been stomache-able.. rather than having whatever the fuck this sorry shit is “ he said shoving his bowl away from him standing up and walking away from the table “ don’t try to do things you know you’re can’t . You’re just making yourself seem pathetic” lee know said grabbing his coat and slipping out of the apartment closing the door harshly behind him ,leaving a very stunned group of friends and a heartbroken you to deal with the mess

you sat staring down at your lap your heartfelt heavy ,why was he acting this way it wasnt like him “ sorry tonight was a bit of a mess “ you apologized to the boys standing up “ let your selves out yea ? “ you said smiling curtly while furiously blinking to keep the tears at bay . Hours had passed or what felt like hours you were sat in the corner of Your shared bedroom , silence filled the apartment it had been a while since the boys left you knew that because changbin announced to you that they were leaving claming to have cleaned up and done the dishes and put the food away before . It was nice of them really it was but there was no real point in putting the food away because you would just have to throw everything out and try to salvage whatever was left of your heart in the process . Emerging from the darkness of your room you looked at the clock it was past the cats feeding time , pulling out there bowls and opening a can of food you shared it amongst the three watching as they lapped away happily unaware of the situation between their owners

Lee know walked in to the apartment , it was cold the usual warmth that radiated from it seemed to not be present , he could only hear the sound of the shower running in the back , he looked around noticing that everything was cleaned and packed away and that the cats were fed too , it wasn’t strange he just expected you not to do it especially after how he acted . The water from the shower that was once hot now cold ran down your body coating you completely in the icy liquid , you wanted to move really you did but your legs that you were sat on now felt numb , your body too cold to move and your heart too heavy to deal with , you looked around the bathroom it felt so secure , so safe , untouched from whatever was going on beyond that door . You looked down at your arms the burns and bruises you got today were a perfect match to the bright purple ones forming on your knees from sitting on them too long . You body shook violently from the cold as you placed a T-shirt over yourself your wet hair leaking water onto it soaking it causing it to cling to your body , you walked into the bedroom sitting on the edge of the bed . Your hands were shaking and your fingers felt numb a light blue tint now visible, lee know popped his head in through the side of the door taking in your appearance . His heart falling to bits as he watched your dazed gaze and shivering form. He knew what he said was uncalled for . He knew you were trying and that you didn’t mean to forget to do things sometimes , he forgot to do things all the time you knew he did but you never told him off for it.

He walked closer to the bed pulling out the hairdryer before looking down at you . You barely moved in his presence as he connected the hairdryer blowing the warm air on you gently running his fingers through your hair . You looked up at him and his eyes met yours , his gaze was soft , his eyes that were once dark had a watery sheen to them as he cupped your cheek . “I’m sorry “ he said kneeling down now taking your hands in his running his finger tips over the cuts and bruises , eyes trailing down to the ones on your knees “ I’m sorry “ he repeated head now falling into your lap and you stared down at him

Pulling your hands away from his you ran your fingers through his hair . Lee know shifted his head further into your lap . You leaned down placing a kiss to the top of his head “ I know " you started which was accompanied by a sniffle and a few tears that tricks led down his face and on to your bare skin . "I'm not angry .. hurt but not angry " you began " I know somethings bothering you so please " you held his face in your hands gently gazing down at him "tell me .." you whispered " tell me so i can help you , help us " you said watching as the tears that filled lee knows eyes trickled down his face , as he nodded hiding his sorrowful expression in your lap as he cried, remorseful for his actions but grateful for your understanding , he knew he didn't deserve you .

Lee know was an ass every now and then you knew he was and he knew he was one too but he loved you and no matter how many times you fought or argued that love never changed . He knew that and you did too..

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channieandhisgoonsquad · 5 months

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Hear me out...

The reason why Changbin never shows his stomach is because he's got a gorgeous happy/treasure trail and he's too embarrassed to show something so intimate to stays 😳😳

Idk where this thought came from, but I'm convinced he's got the prettiest treasure trail ever that runs down his hard stomach and disappears behind his waistband so so perfectly 🥵🥵🥵

I just wanna run my tongue along it and nibble at it while taking off his pants. He's so perfect, I can't even function 😭😭

Ok so two things, firstly. I’m pretty sure that they have to shave if there is a chance that their bellies will show in any performance.

So secondly, it would make sense that if Binnie always made sure he was covered that he could keep his. Whether he doesn’t show his stomach because he’s shy in general or wants to keep a part of him natural and to himself. Who know 🤷🏻‍♀️

But sweet baby Jesus if this man had like a nicely kept happy train that started right under his belly button and got wider before going into his joggers I would definitely lose my mind.

He’s so precious and I feel like he’d be ticklish on his stomach. So, like imagine wanting to feel his cute fluffy happy trail, trying to be seductive, but he just starts giggling instead. And you tell him to stay still but he thinks you’re going to continue tickling him until you grab his cock over his joggers.

“Stay. Still.” And Mans has never been so frozen in his life. He stopped breathing too. Because he wanted to see what you did next. So, when your hand returns to his happy trail and plays with the hem of his boxers he is immediately hard.

🥵🥵

My Spooky Pookies: @linlinaert @lyramundana @moonlightndaydreams @myprwttyhan @2chopsticks2eyes @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604 @bethanysnow @noellllslut @caitlyn98s @chansmanda @chaotic-world-of-the-j @sweetracha @stolasisyourparent @thightswideforhanin @antoniorhinothethird @diorrxluvskz

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orangebl0ssoms · 5 days

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𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

info: Stray Kids (스트레이 키즈), shortened as SKZ, is a man-made member organization. Consists of 8 men who had originally snuck away from their chosen factions, finding one another along the way to create an organization to fight against the factions, and work together to stop the government.

#stray kids x reader #stray kids #stray kids x oc #stray kids imagines #skz smau #skz x oc #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #Spotify

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anxious-dumpling · 21 days

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Chapter One: First Day at Playcare! (6,600 words.)

♡ Fandoms: BTS, Stray Kids!

REQUESTS OPEN :) RULES IN END NOTES!

♡ Characters: Little!Reader CG Jungkook CG Taehyung Playcare Owner Hoseok EA Felix EA Hyunjin Little Jimin, IN, Seungmin Everyone else is Teachers!

♡ Genre: SFW Littlespace, Fluff, Non Idol AU!

After moving from the rural city of Geochang to the bustling city of Seoul, your parents Jungkook and Taehyung decide to start you in a new Playcare Centre. Life is about to be so much different!

Time to be brave!

Notes: Welcome! ʕ•◡•ʔっ♡!

This is a very fluffy, very relaxed series that hopefully you can immerse yourself in!

There will be some angst but mostly fluff!

In this universe, Littlespace is permanent. If you don't know much about Littlespace, please research the topic elsewhere, since this story doesn't reflect how Littlespace functions in real life! Thank you!

The car's tyres grind against the tarmac as Jungkook pulls into the Little Sunshine Playcare's car park, a single storey building coming into view. It's made of caramel colored wood and black metal, a big welcome sign at the front that has a smiling cartoon sun attached to it. Arts and crafts are stuck to insides of the windows, so many colorful handprints reaching out to you as if giving you high-fives.

You tuck your chin into the soft collar of your pink sweater, peering at them nervously through your lashes.

As Jungkook chooses a parking space and turns off the engine, Taehyung twists around in his seat.

A kind smile graces his face. "Are you ready for your first day, sweetness?"

"Umm-..."

You glance back outside.

There's a man holding the hand of a colourfully dressed woman walking up to the front safety gate. He pulls the little knob and guides her through to the door, stopping to poke some buttons on a square thingy on the wall before heading inside.

"I dunno, Papa," You mumble as they leave your sight.

What if they don't wanna play with you? What if your teachers are meanies, and not nice like your Daddy and Papa?

"You don't know?" He sing-songs, pouting and reaching out to pinch your knee playfully. "Are you a little bit scared?"

Hang on.

You didn't say that!

Jungkook turns just in time to see you gasp, giggling to himself.

"I'm not scared!" You protest. "I'm not scared of anything, Papa!"

"Aww. I know."

Jungkook is sceptical. "No? Not even Lord Tirek?"

You think back to last night, when the big, scary monster appeared on the screen and you just had to hide in your Papa's arms.

You admit, "Maybe I'm scared of some things."

Taehyung smacks your Daddy on the shoulder, eyes wide behind his black glasses. "Luckily there's no Lord Tirek here then, right?"

"Right, Jagi," He agrees guiltily.

"Come on. It's time to get out now, sweetness."

You hug your teddy bear to your chest as they both exit the car.

Taehyung appears at your window, pulling your door open and leaning over you. He takes the big, red car seat buckle laying on your belly in his hands and clicks the two halves apart. The straps fall over your shoulders as he slots his hands under your armpits.

"Let's not forget your present," He reminds you, lifting you out of the seat and onto the ground.

As Jungkook rounds the car, he catches you chewing on your teddy's ear.

"Ah-ah," He chides, his tattooed hand coming up to pull it from your lips. "That's yucky. Be nice to Mr Bear, okay?"

"Sorry, Mr Bear."

"And?"

"Sorry, Daddy."

"Thank you."

"Here it is." Taehyung pulls out the bakery carry-box, slamming the door closed and carefully passing it to you. "Gentle hands."

"Good job." Jungkook praises. "It's not too heavy?"

"S'fine, Daddy."

Walking through the car park together, Taehyung strokes his hand through your hair, fixing the few fly-aways that have slipped from your piggy tails he very lovingly styled you in this morning. Your Papa is great at doing hair. Oh, and at picking outfits.

He's wearing a beige knitted vest over a plain white shirt, baggy pants, big shoes, and a beret.

The hairdresser's he works at lets him wear whatever he wants!

Jungkook, though; He has to wear a suit every day.

"Wooooow. Is that right?" Your taller parent exclaims. "You must be very strong?"

"Yes, I am, Daddy." You agree, plodding along.

For some reason, as he opens the gate and lets you through, both of them break out in chuckles above you. You don't know what's so funny about saying that! When you carried that heavy bag of rice at the shops yesterday, Daddy only had to help a little.

The door makes a clicking sound as the code is punched in, Jungkook pushing it open gentlemanly.

As you step into the foyer, you're suddenly hit with the feeling of being lost in a new place. You got lost in the supermarket once and it was so scary. Even scarier than Lord Tirek. You were about to be lost forever and ever until your Daddy finally found you.

You don't want to be alone again. No, no, no! A sad moan leaving your throat, you drop the bakery box onto the floor and wrap your arms around Jungkook's waist, smooshing your face into his breast through the black fabric. You're never letting go!

"Oh!" Taehyung exclaims, picking the small box back up. "Whoopsies."

"Whoopsies," Jungkook croons.

"Good morning," The lady at the desk greets, before her eyes widen. "Would you like some help?"

"We've got it." Your Papa assures her. "We're here to sign in Jeon-Kim Haen, please."

"Of course. Just a moment."

"I'm scared," You muffle.

"It's okay, baby." Jungkook soothes, rubbing your back. "Remember what you said before?"

I'm not scared of anything!

"I lieeeed." You complain. "I'm sc- scared of Lord Tirek and the air frier and scorpions and getting lost!"

Taehyung plucks a tissue from the reception desk box, bending to mop the yellow frosting off the floor.

Jungkook tsks sadly. "Maybe. But you're still very brave, Haen-ie."

"I'm b'ave?"

"Of course you are. Can you say, 'I'm Daddy and Papa's strong, brave girl'?"

"I'm- I'm Daddy and Papa's strong, b'ave girl."

"Good morning!" A new voice comes lilting into the room. You squeeze Jungkook even tighter, turning your head ever so slightly to get a look at the newcomer. A man as tall as your Daddy is approaching the three of you, dressed in an orange hoodie and looking like he swallowed the sun and all the stars for breakfast, the light trying to escape through his face. "Did we have a little accident?"

"We did," Tae laughs, throwing the used tissue and squished cupcake into a nearby bin.

"Don't worry. No harm done!"

His black hair is tousled neatly over his forehead, a rainbow lanyard laying against his chest.

"She's nervous about her first day." Jungkook explains, stroking your cheek. "Had a bit of a scare coming in."

The man smiles, his eyes turning into crescent moons. "You must be Haen-ie. I'm Hoseok-seonsangnim. It's nice to meet you!"

"Hello, Hoseok-seonsangnim." You murmur politely. "Are the cupcakes okay?"

Taehyung chuckles. "They're for her classmates."

"Wow, that's very nice of you." Hoseok gasps, looking through the little plastic windows. "Ooooh, yummy. They look perfect."

You let him know, "You can have one, too."

The three of them burst into soft laughter.

"Awww. Thank you, Haen-ie. You're a very kind girl. How about we go share them with everyone? Would you like to do that?"

You pause, thinking about it for a moment. "Okay."

"Awesome! Good idea." He praises, even though the idea was his, taking the box. "You'll have so much fun today!"

"You hear that? Come say goodbye to Papa-bear, sweetness."

You let go of your Daddy to fall into Taehyung's embrace, trying not to feel too scared as he wraps you up safely in his arms, rocking you gently from side to side and growling like a big, happy bear. When he pulls back, he kisses your forehead and passes you off to Jungkook, who gives you a quicker, lighter hug and reminds you not to chew on Mr Bear because he likes his ears to be clean.

"I won't, Daddy." You promise, earning another kiss to the forehead.

"Good girl. Daddy and Papa will come and pick you up later, okay?"

"Okay."

One last kiss. "We love you."

"Love you," Tae smiles.

"Love you, Daddy, Papa."

Hoseok offers his hand to you. "Come on, Haen-ie. Let's go share these yummy cupcakes, huh?"

Taking his hand in yours, you bravely let him guide you away.

"What flavor are the cupcakes, Haen-ie?"

"They're chocolate," You tell him, remembering what Papa asked the baker-lady for this morning.

"Oooh. I loooove chocolate." Your teacher gushes, giving your hand a bit of a squeeze as you walk side by side down the bright corridor. Splodgy paintings and crayon drawings hang from little wooden pegs along the wall, all the cats and dogs and dragons and two headed shark-giraffe hybrids all grinning down at you with silly faces and glittery decorations. "Is chocolate your favorite, too?"

"Uh-huh." You sheepishly nod. "I like it- I like it even betterer than vanilla, but Papa likes strawberry."

"He likes strawberry, does he? What about Daddy?"

"Daddy likes chocolate, too. He goes to the gym a lot, but he says it's healthy so we can eat lots!"

He laughs at that. "Well, I don't know about 'healthy', but it sure is delicious. Oh, look! Here's our classroom!"

You come to a stop in front of a door with a sticker on it that says, 'A2.'

Glancing back down the corridor, you notice the foyer is suddenly very empty. No Daddy, no Papa. Hoseok distracted you. You face forward again, taking a deep breath and telling yourself, I'm Daddy and Papa's brave girl, as he knocks on the door.

It opens. A man with long, wavy hair smiles sweetly at the both of you, moving to let you inside.

"Good morning!" He greets, closing the door behind you. "This must be our new friend, Haen-ie."

The classroom is bustling, filled with squealing laughter as Baby Shark plays loudly from somewhere.

"We're doing some dancing right now. It helps shake out all those early-morning jitters." He explains. "My name is Hyunjin-ie. It's so exciting to meet you! I'm one of the EAs in this room, so I'll be helping you get settled in today! Does that sound good?"

"What's an EA, Hyunjin-ie?"

"It means, 'Educational Assistant'. That means my job is to be your best friend and help you with your work!"

When you giggle, Hoseok adds, "We've got some delicious chocolate cupcakes here for everyone, too."

"Ohh! Cupcakes? I knew today was going to be a great day."

"Excuse me, friends!" Hoseok calls out over the song, getting everyone's attention. "I know we're all having fun dancing, but we have a new classmate here joining us today and she's very kindly brought us some delicious cupcakes to eat together!"

Exclamations break out across the room. "Cupcakes!!"

As the kids come running over, Hoseok sets the box down on the nearest activity table. "Everyone, say thank you to Haen-ie!"

"Thank you, Haen-ie!"

"I love you, Haen-ie!"

A shy smile makes its way onto your face, realizing that nobody here is mean like you thought they would be.

Your classmates jump up and down like pieces of popcorn as Hoseok hands a small cupcake to you first, then sharing the rest of them to the gathered crowd, reminding them all to be patient and thanking them for their nice manners.

Peeling back your cupcake's paper liner, you take a big, big bite.

Mmm. Chocolate with sweet, yellow frosting and a tiny, bear-shaped cookie sticking out of it.

"Thank you, Heun-ie!" A boy exclaims, his chin smeared with frosting. "Dis is soooo yummy!"

You smile, "My Papa buyed them."

"I love your Papa."

"I love my Papa, too."

"Nice manners, Jimin-ie." Hoseok praises him, handing the last of the cupcakes to EA Hyunjin and two other men who must be teachers. "Haen-ie, you've already met Hyunjin, but this here is EA Yeongbok-ie and Teacher Yoongi-seonsangnim."

The first man, Yeongbok; he has blonde hair, the color of vanilla cookies, and a wonky, toothy smile sweeter than every cookie in the world. He gives you an enthusiastic wave, his voice deeper than even your Papa's. "Hi! Nice to meet you!"

The second man, Yoongi, looks a bit like a sleepy, smiley cat. "Hello, Haen-ie."

"Hello," You wave back.

"We can meet the rest of your teachers later, but Yeongbok here is our second EA, and Yoongi is our very talented music teacher."

The man snorts. "I play recorders, Hoseok."

"All the same."

"Do you like music, Haen-ie?" Yeongbok asks as he pulls out a wooden seat for you, sitting in the one next to it.

"Okay, everyone! Sit down to eat, please!"

As everyone gets settled, you sit down next to Yeongbok and Hyunjin while Yoongi walks off with his cupcake.

"I like to sing with my Daddy and Papa," You tell the friendly EAs, your two new best friends.

"You guys just moved here from Geochang, didn't you?"

"Yeah," The mention of your old home sends a pang through your heart. It was a lot different than here. The streets were lined with wild grass and old, proud houses, always a breathtaking view of the mountains sitting on the horizon. "We got here two days ago."

"Well, we're very happy to have you here." Hyunjin smiles like a pretty prince. "What do you like about Seoul so far?"

Oh, um... You've never thought about that up until now.

"I like Han River," You guess, popping the biscuit in your mouth. "And we're going to Teseum Teddy Bear museum this weekend."

"Uwaaah," Yeongbok exclaims, "That sounds exciting?"

You nod, chewing, the wet crumbs falling from your lips and into your lap. "Bea'ws are my fav'ite animal."

"Oooh, careful," He warns, taking the handkerchief out of his pants' pocket and using it to clean you up.

"Oh! Sorryyyy."

"Don't worry." He brushes the crumbs off your sweater, and then your bear's fat, brown nose. "Look. It's as if nothing ever happened!"

"Daddy doesn't like it when I get my things dirty," You babble, giving the teddy a kiss as an apology, "Or chew on Mr Bear's ears."

"Aaah," Hyunjin hums understandingly, "So you're going to be one of the messy ones."

"You're going to love art class."

"I love art class!" A nearby boy butts in. "I made a painting for my Mommy yesterday!"

"Yes, and you used yourself as the canvas, didn't you?" He jokes, pinning him with an cool, sassy look.

The boy does nothing but giggle, his teeth covered in bits of chocolate cake, before running off to join his friends again.

"That's Jeongin-ie."

As you bite and swallow the last chunk of your cupcake, Yeongbok stands from the small seat, leaving his own cupcake on the table and offering his hand to you. "All done? Let's go put your bag away in the cubby before class starts, okay?"

"Okay, Yeongbok-ie." You agree, grabbing his pale hand and following him.

He takes you over to the wall besides the classroom door, where the cubby shelves are all stuffed with the other Little's backpacks, books, spare clothes, and water bottles. Coloured strips of paper are velcroed above each one, their names printed on them.

'Jimin', 'Jeongin', 'Maru', 'Nathan', and even your name! You point it out to Yeongbok, who chuckles in that delicate, tinkling way of his that makes it sound like he's a magical xylophone. He takes off your purple backpack and places it in the cubby below your tag.

Returning to the sitting area together, you spot Hyunjin and Yoongi helping tidy the aftermath.

"This one was yours," Yoongi nods toward an empty liner, wiping down the table with a cloth. "Go put it in the trash, please."

Hyunjin adds, "You too, Jeongin."

"Okayyyy." The boy sing-songs. "Fine."

Scooping up your trash and dumping it in the nearby bin, everybody works hard to clean up before settling down in their assigned seats at the activity tables strewn across the room. You're unsure where to go, awkwardly hugging Mr Bear, but sweet EA Yeongbok is there to help you again, taking your hand and guiding you to a table near the toy boxes. Jeongin and Jimin are sitting there, too.

"Ooh, Haen-ie. Look." The man points at the back of the chair. "What's that?"

You follow his finger.

Wow! It's another tag with your name on it!

"My name!" You exclaim proudly as you sit down. "This is my chair, Yeongbok-ie!"

"You're right. It is your chair," The man praises this genius discovery, as he drags another chair over and sits next to you.

Hyunjin and Yoongi are both sitting at other tables, joking with the kids around them.

"Hi! I'm Jimin!" The boy in front of you cheers.

"I'm Jeongin!"

"These are your table-mates, Haen-ie. Say hello?"

"Hello," You greet, using Mr Bear's fluffy arm to wave to them. "It's my first day today!"

"Why is it your first day?"

"We moved here." You explain, "And my old playcentre is too far away to visit, now."

"Awwww," Jimin pouts.

"That's so sad!"

"It is a little bit sad," Yeongbok validates, his tone comforting, "But she's going to make lots of new friends here, isn't she?"

Jeongin nods so fast you think his head might fall off. "I'll be your friend, Haen-ie!"

"Me, too! Do you like dinosaurs?"

Glancing at the T-Rex printed on his blue sweater, you shrug. "Um... A little."

"Oh." He deflates, perking right back up again afterwards. "It's okay! I'll still be your friend!"

"Yeah! He's friends with me, and I like sharks, but he doesn't like sharks, and we're still friends."

"Okay, guys," Yeongbok interrupts, placing a finger over his lips, "Sh, sh, sh. Let's listen to Hoseok-seonsangnim, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay!"

"It's time for our first class of the day, friends." You turn your attention to the front of the classroom, peering over Jimin's shoulder as Hoseok drags the wheelie whiteboard into view, uncapping an orange marker and smiling brightly at his class. "Now, Yoongi-seonsangnim and I were nice enough to let you guys have some cupcakes before class this morning, weren't we?"

"Yeah!" You all reply at once.

"Yeah! Fun, right? So do you think you'll all be able to put your learning caps on, now?"

As he mimes putting on a big hat, you all copy him.

Even Yoongi, Hyunjin, and Yeongbok, too!

"Perfect!" He lowers his hands. "Does anyone know what we're going to be learning today?"

The whole class starts giggling hysterically as he glances at the laminated chart on the wall, which very obviously reads, Monday, 1. Music, 2. Arts and Crafts, 3. Snack Break, 4. Math, 5. Nap Time, 6. Lunch Break, 7. Reading, in bubble letters.

Everyone shouts out, "Music!"

"It's Music!"

"Music, Hoseok!"

"It's what?" Your teacher squints, cupping his ear. "We're learning what?"

You join in the chaos, shouting, "Music!!"

"Aaaaah. Music! Why didn't you say that the first time?"

Silly Hoseok-seonsangnim. You guys did say that!

"Let's start with our word of the day first, and then we get out the instruments." Turning and writing, Word of the Day, at the top of the whiteboard, he faces forward and looks directly at you. "How about you choose today's word, Haen-ie?"

Oh! You?!

"There's no wrong answers," Yeongbok encourages you when he notices your apprehension. "What about Bear?"

You give a quick nod. "You say, please?"

He happily reports back to your teacher, "The word of the day is Bear!"

"Oooh. Good choice. Let's all use the letters at our tables and have a go spelling Bear!"

"Oh! I know, I know!" Jimin exclaims, wiggling impatiently as your EA reaches into the middle of the table and pulls out a velcro board and a cup of felt letters from the basket of supplies, splaying them out. "Let me do it! I know!"

He grabs the pile of letters, pulling out a flimsy G character and sticking it to the board.

"Good job, Jimin-ie." Yeongbok slides the letters in front of you. "Haen-ie's turn, now. We have to work as a team!"

Humming thoughtfully, you sound out the word Bear in your head. There's a Guh, and then an Ohhhhh. Must be O.

You stick the O character below the G.

When it's Jeongin's turn, he sticks down an M character, completing the simple Hangul symbol.

"Is everybody ready? Show us your boards!"

Chatter fills the room again as Yeongbok holds up the board for you.

Hoseok glances from table to table, nodding, "Correct! Yep, correct! Well done! Yeongbok's table, correct!"

Your EA gives you a high-five.

Yay!

"Hyunjin's table," He sucks in a breath at the last group, "I'm afraid that's not quite right."

Everyone at the table groans in defeat and starts throwing accusations around.

"I told you it was just one M!"

"Hyunjinnnnn!"

"You didn't listen!"

Yoongi's laughing behind his hand, shoulders shaking.

The kids keep heckling him as he grumpily throws down the letter in his hand.

Yeongbok laughs, "Maybe you need to move to the baby's room, Hyung? What do you guys think?"

"Baby's room!" The girl next to Hyunjin chants. "Baby's room!"

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out at her.

"Okay. Okay," Hoseok chuckles, taking back control of the room as Yoongi stands up. "Time for music, now."

When Namjoon checks his watch, he announces, "Snack break, everyone!"

Jumping up from your seat and pulling your bucket hat on, you can't wait to eat!

You file out into the play yard with everyone else, finding a spot at one of the picnic tables. Hoseok and Namjoon-seonsangnim wheel out two carts of food, approaching each table and handing out the small bowls. Namjoon; You met him during Arts and Crafts. He's tall and muscly like a sports teacher, but he actually teaches art and English, his face round like a toffee candy, both cheeks dimpled.

"Hello, everyone." He greets, placing a plastic bowl and spoon in front of you. "Did you have fun in art today?"

"Thank you," You remember your manners, licking your lips at the sight of the sliced fruit and yoghurt.

"You're welcome, Haen-ie."

As you stick your spoon in, Seungmin exclaims, "Yeah! I maked a rainbow! It was really pretty."

"'Made'." Hoseok calls out.

The boy corrects himself. "I made a rainbow."

"Yes, I saw. It was pretty."

Gulping down the dollop of yoghurt and crunchy apple pieces, you gaze out at the patch of sunlight nearby. Your class's art creations are drying in the sun, the pieces of paper swaying in the breeze, wrinkled from all the glue and pom poms on them.

"I made a dinosaur with Jimin," You garble as Namjoon walks away with the cart, your mouth full.

The boy nods. "It was a brontosaurus. Brontosauruses are the ones with the-!"

"The long necks," The girl across from him rolls her eyes. "We know."

Your dinosaur's neck was five pompoms long!

He gasps. "You like dinosaurs, too, Ahyun?!"

"No. You just talk about them all the time." She glances up from her bowl. "Haen, you have glue on your elbow."

You do? Shrugging a shoulder, you peer down at the side of your arm and scratch the dried flake off.

"And paint on your shoulder."

Oh, she's right. There's a pink splat on your sweater. You hope your Daddy won't be too upset.

"And on your hand."

... Oh.

"She got really messy," The girl beside her giggles. "She's like my baby brother, and he's only one!"

"I think she's messier," She jokes, making your cheeks go hot.

"Are you one, Haen-ie?"

"No. I'm nineteen," You mumble uncomfortably, hiding your paint-covered hand under the table. "And four on the inside."

"You should go sit somewhere else," Ahyun chirps. "I don't want you to get me dirty!"

"She won't," Jimin frowns.

"Yes, she will!"

Whatever. You don't want to sit with Ahyun, either. You pick up your bowl and stand from the wooden bench, storming over to the playground and ducking under one of the platforms. You hide away in a dark corner to finish eating your snack in peace.

Tears start burning at the edges of your eyes when you catch a second glimpse at your ruined sweater.

"Haen-ie? Sweetie?"

Sniffling, you watch Hyunjin as he searches the playground, coming to a sudden stop when he sees you. He looks like he's about to explain that you're not allowed to eat in the playground, but something in his expression changes and he crouches down.

"Haen-ie, sweetie, what are you doing all the way over here?" He asks. "What's the matter?"

Glancing behind him, you catch the other teachers watching the two of you, before they go back to what they were doing.

Hyunjin crawls in and sits beside you, long hair framing his face as he tilts his head at you.

"Haen-ie?"

You pout, "I don't wanna sit at the tables."

"No?"

You shake your head, poking sadly at your yoghurt.

"You don't want to sit with your friends? Jimin and Jeongin?" He tries, only to be met with silence. "Me and Yeongbok-ie?"

You admit, "I don't wanna sit with Ahyun."

He pauses. "Did Ahyun say something a little bit mean?"

You nod. "Her friend said I'm like her baby brother because I'm messy. And then Ahyun said I'm even messier than him because I got paint and glue on my clothes in art class, and then she said I can't sit with them, so I came over here to hide."

Sympathy washes over his face. He muses, "That wasn't very nice of her, was it?"

"No, it wasn't," You agree.

"Did it make you sad?"

"Uh-huh." It did make you sad. "I didn't get messy on purpose, Hyunjin-ie. It was an a'sident."

"Awww, Hyunjin-ie knows it was an accident, sweetie. And you know what?"

"What?"

"Art class is all about getting messy, little friend. Wouldn't it be boring if the paint only got on the paper?"

"My Daddy doesn't like it when I get dirty. He likes it when things are perfect and nice and clean."

Your Papa calls him a 'Perfectionist'.

"You're already perfect and nice," He argues. "And Yeongbok and I are going to make sure you're clean, too."

"You are?"

"Yeah. Yeongbok is new, too, you know. He's only been here a week. And he says I should be in the baby's room. Pssh. After art class ended, I had to teach him where to find the extra wet wipes, but you went outside to eat before we could clean you up!"

Ohhh. You remember now! After class ended, Yeongbok told you to wait, but you forgot and ran outside!

"I was too excited to eat!"

"Yes, you were." He chuckles, taking your hand. "Come on. Let's go get clean!"

"Okay!"

He helps you crawl back out from the playground, leaving your bowl at the table and stepping inside the empty classroom.

It's much quieter in here. The aircon hums above you, tables all clean and glossy. You see Yeongbok standing behind the partition of the exposed bathroom area, peeling open a package of wet wipes and digging through your purple backpack.

Both of you approaching him, Yeongbok gasps dramatically with a big, sunny smile. "Haen-ie!"

Hyunjin squeezes your hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't wait for you, Yeongbok-ie," You apologize sweetly. "I got distracted and forgot to wait for you!"

"Aw. That's okay." He says, pulling out a spare shirt with a big strawberry on it. "Let's get you into some clean clothes."

The two nice men work together to remove your paint-covered sweater and stuff it back into your backpack, wiping down your fingers and palms with the wet wipes afterwards. Yeongbok quickly dresses you in the green shirt and adjusts your bucket hat.

"There we go," He celebrates, zipping your backpack up. "That was nice and easy, wasn't it!"

"Thank you, Yeongbok-ie and Hyunjin-ie!"

"See? Nothing bad about getting messy." The older EA holds his hand out to you. "Come on. Let's go finish eating, little friend."

Uh oh.

"Do I have to?"

Yeongbok makes a confused face. "I thought you were excited to eat?"

"I am, but," You twist your shoe into the floor. "Ahyun was mean to me."

He frowns. "Oh, no."

"Hyunjin-ie will make sure Hoseok-seonsangnim tells Ahyun's parents she was being mean to one of our friends," Hyunjin promises. "And you can sit with me, if you like, or we can ask Jimin and Jeongin if they want to move tables with you?"

You wanna sit with all of them!

"Let's all sit together!"

"Okay, sweet friend." He praises as you take his hand. "Let's go. Your yoghurt is waiting for you!"

You giggle. "I'm coming, yoghurt!"

Hyunjin guides you back into the play yard, approaching the picnic table.

"Excuse me, guys," The man politely interrupts, pointing to a nearby empty table. "I'm going to take my friend Haen-ie over to the kind-friends table over there, and we want to know who else is going to join us."

"Ooooh," Ahyun's friend exclaims. "I do!"

Not wanting to be left out, Ahyun agrees and raises her hand. "Me too, Hyunjin!"

"Sorry, Jenna and Ahyun. This table is only for kind friends. You weren't being a very kind friend to Haen-ie today, were you?"

She gawks. "Wh-?!"

"Maybe when you're feeling a little bit kinder," He suggests, "You can come and join us later."

As she scoffs angrily, Jimin raises his hand. "Can I come, Haen-ie?"

"What about me?" Jeongin adds. "I wanna sit with you!"

"Me, too!" Seungmin agrees. "I'm a kind friend!"

You go pink under all the attention. "Okay!"

"Yay!"

"Let's go!"

"Kind-friends table!"

The four of you grab your bowls and go sit at the other, better table together. Hyunjin offers his lap to you since you might still be a little sad. Even though you're feeling better now, you still climb up onto his thigh, while the three boys sit around you.

"There you go," Hyunjin cooes, bouncing you up and down a little. "Ooooh. Apple? What else did you get?"

"I got banana," Seungmin answers, pointing at his friend's bowl. "Jimin got some, too!"

Jeongin pouts, "I got grapes."

"He hates grapes," The boy beside him explains helpfully.

You ask, "Do you like apple?"

When he nods, you hold your bowl over his, using your spoon to flick the apple into it.

"Thanks, Haen-ie!" He gasps, before giving you his grapes. "You can have mine!"

"Thanks, Jeongin-ie."

"Woooow," Hyunjin exclaims, "Nice sharing, you guys."

"My Papa says it makes our friends sad when we don't share," You tell him. "And I don't like it when people are sad, Hyunjin-ie."

The man suddenly clutches his heart through his baggy shirt, wincing like he's in pain. "Dawww."

You giggle at his outburst. "What, Hyunjin-ie?"

He makes a Grrrrrr sound as he mimes grabbing your cheeks. "You're adorable, that's what!"

You push his hands away. "Silly Hyunjin!"

Yeongbok comes into view as you all laugh together, setting his bowl on the table. "Hey! Don't have all the fun without me!"

"How are you guys going over here?"

As Hoseok approaches your table, you pout your lips around the pencil in your mouth.

Not good. Math is hard!

He takes notice just like all good teachers do. "Needing some help there, Haen-ie?"

You mumble, "Yes, p'ease."

Yeongbok gently pulls your hand away. "We don't chew on pencils, little friend. There you go."

As he goes back to helping Jeongin, Hoseok takes a seat next to you. "Tell Hoseok-seonsangnim what you need help with."

"Yeongbok-ie is busy with Jeongin and there's-! There's too many steps!"

"Ahhh, I see. Don't worry. Let's break them down together, shall we? Can you read the question to me?"

You look down at your paper, making sure to ignore the cartoon gardener at the bottom because he's annoying you. "Taeyun buys some-... some flower seeds. He plants five seeds in normal soil, and five seeds in special mulch. The seeds in the... in the special mulch grow double the flowers than the seeds in the regular soil grow. How many flowers will he have when they're done growing?"

See?! That's super hard.

Taehyun should ask somebody else about his flowers, because you have no idea.

"That was great reading," Hoseok praises you, before grabbing a blank piece of paper and some crayons from the supply box. "I've got an idea. You know what helps me when I can't figure out a question? Drawing it out!"

Your eyes widen. "There's questions you can't figure out?"

A laugh escapes him. "Yes, there are. Even teachers need help, sometimes."

"But you're super smart?"

"The only way to get smart is to be wrong a lot of times first." He explains, drawing some dots on the page. "Let's draw what we need to know. First, I'll draw the seeds... Five normal seeds on the left and five special seeds on the right."

When he's finished, he hands you a green crayon.

"Now let's draw the flowers coming out of the seeds."

"Okay. I'll try!"

"That's what I like to hear, friend. You should draw two flowers coming out of each special seed, remember?"

Nodding, you get to work drawing the stems.

After that, you add a yellow ball and colorful petals to each one.

"Let's add some ladybugs!" You suggest, reaching for the red crayon.

"Hang on. We don't need any ladybugs right now." He reminds you. "Maybe you can draw some in art class tomorrow, okay?"

Awwww. "Okay."

"Let's count the flowers instead. Ready?"

"Uh-huh. One, two, three," You concentrate hard and count every flower. "Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen!"

"Fifteen. Well done!" Hoseok exclaims with a big, excited grin, giving you a double high five. "You did it!"

"I did it!"

"Go ahead and write the answer down and we'll have a go at the next one."

"Okay! Thank you, Hoseok-seonsangnim."

"You're very welcome, sunshine."

By the time you've filled out the math booklet, you're in serious need of a nap. Being smart is lots of effort. How does he do it?

Luckily, it's nap time.

You grab Mr Bear and head into the toy area, where the EAs have moved the furniture out of the way and set up sleeping mats on the floor. Your Papa packed your softest, pinkest bedding today. You kneel on the cotton fabric, yawning and laying your head on your pillow as Hyunjin pulls the curtains over the windows. Hundreds of stars light up the walls when Yeongbok switches on the lamp.

"Who needs a little extra help getting to sleep today?" He asks quietly, switching on the speaker next.

The sound of somebody playing the piano graces your ears.

A couple of kids raise their hands, including you. No matter how tired you are, it's still scary falling asleep in a new place.

Hyunjin comes over to you.

"Close your eyes, sweetie," He whispers, settling beside your mat.

With him slowly stroking your hair, you're drifting off into dreamland before you even realize it.

At the end of the day, while you're all sitting on the rug, Hoseok asks, "Who here had a good day today?"

"Me!" You all shout.

"Let's share three things we're grateful for today," He says, gesturing to a student. "Let's start with you, Jihyun."

She tilts her head. "Ummm... Art class, Yeongbok helping me find my pencil when I lost it, and... Oh! Haen's cupcakes!"

"Oooh. They were yummy, weren't they? Jimin?"

He's got his answer right away. "Meeting my new friend Haen-ie!!"

Jeongin's got his, too! "Haen-ie sharing her fruit with me!!"

"Aw, those are great answers. I'm grateful for our new friend, too."

When it's your turn, you shyly stare back at the class. It's difficult to choose only three things! You're grateful for the EAs, who made your first day as easy as possible for you, Yoongi for making you laugh as he taught you how to hold the recorder, Namjoon for opening the glue pot for you when it was stuck, and Hoseok for being such a great teacher, even if he's bad at drawing flowers.

"I'm grateful for my friends and my teachers and the EAs... and nap time, and brontosauruses."

That might've been five things... But Hoseok doesn't mind. "Aww. I'm so glad, friend."

Hyunjin does that thing again where he looks like he's going to die.

Yeongbok chuckles, petting his shoulder in support.

Parents start gathering in the corridor outside the classroom as the rest of the kids share their three things. You keep an eye out for your Daddy and Papa, your legs squirming and your heart racing like it's trying to break out of you and go find them.

The last time you glance through the window, they're both there!

When they spot you, their faces light up like they always do when they spot you in school assemblies and sport events.

They wave to you.

"Daddy, Papa," You cheer under your breath, trying to keep your hand in your lap. "Daddy, Papa are here."

"Okay, my friends." Hoseok eventually concludes. "I'll see you all tomorrow!"

"See you tomorrow!!"

"Bye, Hoseok!!"

"It's home time!!"

As soon as he opens the door, you jump up and run over to the big group of parents, straight into your Papa's open arms.

"There you are!" Taehyung gasps happily, holding you tight. "There's our sweet girl!"

"Papa!!"

"Did you have a good day?" He asks you, kissing your hair and letting you hug Jungkook next. "You didn't miss us too much?"

"I missed you so much," You muffle into Jungkook's button shirt. "But I had a good day at the same time!"

"We missed you, too," Your Daddy chuckles.

As Hyunjin approaches the three of you, handing your backpack and artwork to Jungkook, you pull away slightly.

"Here are Haen's things," He smiles.

He thanks the man. "Wow. Is this a dinosaur, baby?"

"I made it with my new friend, Jimin! He said I could keep it because he has a lot of dinosaur drawings at his home already."

"It's so cute."

Taehyung adds, "I love it."

"She had a good day," The EA smiles. Yeongbok and Hoseok are talking to some other parents behind him, handing more backpacks and artworks out. As Jungkook gives your dinosaur craft to his husband and unzips your bag, making sure everything is in there, Hyunjin explains, "We did have a little hiccup this morning, though. You'll find her sweater in there. It just has some paint on it."

Guilt squeezes you as you watch Jungkook turn the fabric over in his hand. "Sorry, Daddy."

"It's okay, Haen-ie." He shakes his head, zipping it up. "Daddy just wanted you to have fun today, okay? We can wash it out."

"I also got crumbs on Mr Bear," You admit.

He laughs at your sudden burst of honesty, slinging your bag over his shoulder. "We can wash him, too."

"He'll love it," Tae agrees. "It'll be like a spa day."

Some people might think your Daddy is the stricter parent, but he actually breaks more of his own rules than you do, and it's him who's always spoiling you with new toys, treats, and clothes! He's a big softie!

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow then, Haen-ie!" Hyunjin says. "High-five!"

"Buh-bye, Hyunjin-ie!"

After you smack hands, Taehyung and Jungkook thank him again and they each take one of your hands, leading you out of the Playcentre. They listen intently as you babble about every detail of your day all the way to the car, where Tae lifts you in.

"Did everyone enjoy the cupcakes?" He asks, helping you thread your arms through the straps.

"Oh! Yeah! They were really yummy, Papa."

"No dessert tonight, then, I guess." He pouts, clicking the buckle together, before grinning cheekily at you. "Just kidding."

You stick your tongue out at him.

"Hey," Your Daddy chuckles, watching you in the rear-view mirror. "Save that little tongue for your ice cream tonight."

"We're having ice cream?!"

Tae closes your door and settles into the passenger seat as the car starts. "Didn't we tell you? Brave girls get ice cream, baby bear."

"Yay! Thank you!"

Cupcakes, new friends, a good nap, and ice cream?

You wish every day could be your first day at Playcare!

When you get a whole bowl's worth of chocolate ice cream all over your pyjamas that night, Jungkook just fondly smiles at you and sneaks you a second scoop while Tae isn't looking. He taught you that chocolate is healthy when you want it to be, after all!

Notes:

Please share your thoughts and leave some suggestions for future chapters! ʕ•◡•ʔっ♡!

Things I won't write. - Smut. - Self-harm. - Intense angst. - Anything unrelated to Haen or Littlespace. Everything else goes!

Current roles. - Taehyung: Parent Caregiver. - Jungkook: Parent Caregiver. - Jin: ??? - Namjoon: Art / English Teacher. - Hoseok: Homeroom Teacher / Playcare Owner. - Yoongi: Music Teacher. - Jimin: Little. - Bangchan: ??? - Lee Know: ??? - Han: ??? - Changbin: Sports Teacher. - Hyunjin: EA / Art Teacher. - Felix: EA. - Seungmin: Little. - Jeongin: Little.

I encourage you to be friendly and patient with me! ^◡^

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