Moonbin Tribute (In Memory Of A Sweet Soul)

Moonbin Tribute (In Memory of a Sweet Soul) 😓🕊️

Gone too soon, Moonbin, TOO SOON!! I'm so sorry that he couldn't get help & had to die the way he did. My condolences to ASTRO & Binnie's family :(💕 Rest well, sweet angel 🤍

Cookie Monster Ice Cream

reaction: their s/o having a really bad panic attack; ateez

req: could u do a reaction to their s/o having a really bad panic attack? i really love your blog btw💕💕

a/n: aaaa it was really hard to find angsty gifs im sorry 😣 I hope y'all enjoy this!

Seonghwa

Seonghwa would be trying so hard to stay strong even though the sight of you suffering through the panic attack made his heart break because he knew that if he freaked out, it would make things worse for you. You don’t miss the twitching of his lips as he forced a small smile on his face to comfort you, nor the way his nose turns a little red and his eyes get all wet as he gave you slow, long pats on your back. If you were disassociating, you could hear the little cracks in his voice as he reminded you of the memories you two had shared before.

After the panic attack, he would tuck you into bed and bring you warm tea and the both of you would have a little talk about the event earlier and discuss how he could help you better the next time it happens.

Keep reading

4th Moment

Pairing: Mark x fem!reader

Genre: smut MDNI

Word Count: 1.1K

Synopsis: Hot. It was hot and you desperately needed something to cool you off. Lucky for you, your boyfriend had a plan.

Masterlist

A/N: Look, ey, listen. I like this one. Also, I know what's in his hands isn't ice cream but for the sake of this drabble, IT IS😭😘

@ncityavenue because you been teasing me way too much and I have had it. Ily or whatever 🫶🏽😌

As always feedback is very much welcome. Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Send an ask to be added to the taglist 🤎💛🐝 18+ only

Smut tags below the cut!

Smut Warnings: dom!mark, sub!reader, food play, temperature play, nipple play, titty whipped Mark, begging?, teasing, clitoral stimulation, profanity, praise, orgasm, pet names; 'babe', 'baby girl', 'baby'

Barely wearing anything; a bralette and a tiny pair of shorts, you laid flat on the cool tiled floor. It felt as though it wasn’t helping even the slightest, you needed something to cool you from the inside out. Lucky for you, you had ice cream in the freezer.

Getting up from your spot, you padded over to the kitchen to look for the cold treat. You found everything in the freezer; frozen peas, meats, pastry dough and of course ice-cubes. To your dismay, there was no ice cream. You let out a huff, grabbing your phone to check the time; the nearest store was still too far to walk and you didn’t have it in you to drive.

Mark.

“Babe?” You call out for him.

“Out back!” His voice sounded through the past the screen doors to which you followed.

To your bafflement, he sat on the bench in sweats and a long sleeve, glasses sliding down his nose as he looked down. Snapping a quick photo to clown him later for being dressed heavily in this heat. He never failed to surprise you. Speaking of which, as you took a closer look at the photo and him, brows furrowed tightly.

“Did you finish the ice cream?!” Mark almost drops the cup at the sudden sound of your voice.

“Shit, dude. Don’t do that!” He complained, trying to calm down his startled heart by clutching his chest. You however, weren’t having it. Walking right up to him with a pout in place, arms crossed.

“Don’t ‘dude’ me, Mark.” You whine. Your boyfriend looks up at you, a grin tugging the corners of his lips.

“What’s the matter, baby girl?” He tries to hold you by the waist but you step out of reach.

“I can’t believe you took the last of the ice cream and are not sharing with me. Me. Your girlfriend. Your baby girl. The one you said you’d do anything for?” You emphasize each name with your palms flat on your chest, speaking as though you were being cast for a drama.

Mark was trying his best not find your adorable pouty whining a little bit funny, considering he could just drive down to get you more; as much as your heart desired. Clearing his throat, he managed to grab hold of your wrists when your arms plopped to your sides and tug you to sit down next to him.

“Is the heat getting to you, baby girl?” He ask softly, not condescending in the slightest, more teasing. Still you nod, defeated, chest taking in a breath and letting out a deep sigh. Your boyfriend’s eyes flicker between your lips and the swell of your breasts in the bralette. Taking in your little to nothing attire and admiring the exposed skin. A gentle hand ran down the side of your face, neck and arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“’s so hot. ‘m gonna melt.”

Melt. Melting. Melted.

“Lay down for me, pretty.” You do as asked, laying your body down slowly and letting him guide your legs; one propped up on the bench and the other left down. “Stay absolutely still, got it?”

“Got it.”

A whisper command to close your eyes has you temporarily blind. Only hearing the soft movements that Mark makes as he shuffles around. Keeping your hands to your sides, you wait for whatever he has for you.

A soft gasp slips past your lips when you feel a cool liquid drip down the dip of your collar bone and slide down the centre of your chest. The feeling is soon replaced by a warm, wet one, tracing the same path the liquid took. You fight to keep your eyes closed and even more to keep yourself still. Breath hitches at the cool liquid making contact with your skin once more; this time just below your breast. Again, the same warm wet feeling tracing after it.

An inkling of what your boyfriend was doing to you makes you whine out his name, but he shushes you. Pulling down your bralette to expose your mounds, nipples pebbling from the tingling sensation sending sparks to your core. The cool liquid is carefully dripped onto your breast, eagerly engulfed and cleaned up by Marks warm mouth. Pleasure shoots straight to your clit when his tongue begins laving at the buds sloppily, lips suctioning the mess that he just as eagerly swallows. Once each mound has received the same treatment, he blows cool air against them, making you writhe and squirm.

“I told you to keep still, baby.”

“O-okay, okay.”

Whether his plan was to cool you down or heat you up, you don’t know at this point. What you do know, is that the throbbing between your legs was beginning to hurt. Mark, however, was too determined to make you beg for it. For him.

A strangled moan sounds when he presses the heel of his palm against your clothed pussy. “Mark, please. I – shit – need more.”

“You were so upset with me though, baby.” You shake your head dazedly as he coos at you with a mock pout. “Do you forgive me, then?”

You nod vehemently, “Yes, yes. Please, Mark. I-I forgive you.” He can hear the desperation in your airy voice. Smiling when you rip your lids open to look at him with tears in your eyes. “Oh- Mark!” A drawn out moan of his name falls past your lips.

Lips back on your breast, rolling your nipples and suckling on them each like a vacuum. He rolls his palm over your clit in fluid movements. Fuck him for knowing exactly what to do even with clothes in the way. For eating the last of the ice cream and then covering you with the melted remnants. For teasing and working you up then playing the victim. For so quickly bringing you towards your high that your back arches up off the bench and into him.

“That’s it. Let it all go, baby.” Your boyfriend encourages as you squeak and part your lips in a silent moan. Faces scrunched in bliss as your orgasm washes over you in a sweet wave. Heart racing against your chest so fast you’re sure that he can hear it with how close he is. “Good girl. My baby girl.” Mark peppers kisses all over your chest up to your neck and face. Capturing your lips in a warm kiss, a content sigh leaving you both and mingling with your breaths.

“Go get cleaned up, yeah.” He pulls away to carry you back into the house, depositing you into the bathroom on slightly shaky legs. Tilting your chin up to look at him and make sure the fuzz is gone so you can listen to him. “I’ll go get you more ice cream. Okay, baby girl.”

You whine but nod meekly, reaching up for a kiss, another and one more. “Okay, but hurry back to me.” You pout to which he boops your nose with his and with a smile whispers,

“Anything for you.”

a/n: is this too long to be a timestamp? ah well-t/w:(mentions of panic attacks and/or depression)

1:53 a.m. song recommendation: If I Be Wrong

Jisung woke up and found your bed empty, the house silent and anxiety nestling home under his ribcage. He was on a break because of it. Because he couldn't perform and had a breakdown in practice and now? He was here, at home and you were gone because why? Because he cannot have a grip on himself. No wonder he kept breaking down the moment things got hard.

Stop. No, this isn’t you. The voice in his head tells him. The voice belonging to you.

Even though his heart lurches as his feet touch the warm floor and sweat beads on his skin, Jisung gets out of the bed, looking for you. Everything seems in place. The bathroom light is off, the extra room’s door is open. He checks it. Empty. The kitchen. Empty. Your study. Empty. He is about to head out to look for you when he hears a dry cough. From the living room.

He should take a pill really; his heartbeat was getting dangerously loud in his ears.

He ignores it and dashes to the living room, heart thundering sweat dripping down his back. Who switched off the air-con? He thinks idly before seeing you on the couch, tucked against one of the corners, impossibly small.

Carefully, quickly he closes the distance, kneeling in front of you, but not touching. Something tells him not to touch. You simply stare ahead, no sound coming from your lips. He can’t even tell if you’re breathing, an unnatural catatonia settling over you.

“Baby…?” So loud. His voice feels so loud in the hallowed silence.

You don’t move, don’t respond, despondence keeping your bones and muscles from moving. The couch feels overwhelmingly soft, like its quicksand and you will drown in it if Jisung doesn’t catch you first. If he doesn’t touch you first.

Everything was suddenly weighing on you like the weight of the sky on Atlas’ shoulders, bringing you down to your knees. But who are you to confide in? When Jisung himself needs to take a break from his own burden of Atlas? You couldn’t whine to him about the worldly affairs. You should’ve. You know you should’ve. He would listen, of course. But that would mean being a burden on him when you’re supposed to be the pillar of support, right?

“Baby, talk to me,” Jisung’s voice is soft, scared even, tears threatening to spill from the big eyes.

You try to. But words don’t come from your mouth. They are there in your head but some connection between your brain and tongue is broken and now you can’t talk, except for one feeling that is making you tremble in this quicksand of cloth. A minute passes and Jisung’s hand has snuck onto your leg, rubbing gently, waiting for you to form words.

He doesn’t show but his chest palpitates at the silence, at your tired eyes and ghost look. And still he waits. He has played the waiting game before, albeit being on the other side of the board. About five minutes later, his name slips out of your mouth, like a final prayer.

“Ji, I’m cold,” your voice is broken, hoarse after hours of crying. How long has it been since you snuck out of your bed and ended up on the couch, stifling tears and screams and digging crescents shaped marks into your arms with fingernails? Everything feels so cold, even though you know it’s almost forty degrees outside, and the A/C is off. You were the one who switched it off before ending up on the couch in darkness. Jisung hasn’t turned on the light either, but in the dim illumination from the streets, you can see the tear streaks on his face and wonder how he can hold himself together so easily, when you fall apart at a moment’s notice.

“Do you want me to hold you?” He asks, hand rubbing your ankle and up, massaging gently. You nod and he wastes no time sliding between you and that quicksand of a couch. You end up on his chest, ear against heart, hand, held in his. The cold starts diffusing, slowly at first from your torso where Jisung’s hands rub circles on your back and tears start flowing again from the corners of your eyes and he whispers to you.

You know how much I love you. Don’t struggle alone.

To which your head answers, you have your own struggles.

To which he already is answering as if he can read your mind, yes, everyone has their own problems but that doesn’t mean you hide from the people you love till you feel like… like this. How do you feel right now, love?

To which you verbally answer, “Warmer.” Jisung holds your tighter then, his legs squeezing your own between them, as if releasing some pressure valve, making you feel like you’re floating. It’s a good feeling. Jisung makes you feel better without even doing anything much.

“… do you wanna talk about what happened?”

“Too much,” you whisper back, breath hitching ever so slightly when his hand traces your spine, settling on your lower back. He feels broad, strong, warm, so contrasting to how he was three days ago, trembling and crying and curled on the practice floor. If he can, then why can’t you?

“What was too much?”

“Everything. Everything was… work was…,” he hears your voice falter and shushes you, It’s okay, we’ll work it out together, okay? I’m here.

“Ji, I love you.” It’s not a sweet confession, not a casual ‘I love you’ thrown between lovers, between spouses. I love you, means I need you, means I will need you, so don’t go again. Don’t leave, because it’s scary alone.

But you don’t say all that, and he doesn’t ask questions further, humming a gentle tune, chest rumbling and pulling you to sleep.

am I a joke to him 😩