I Started Doing Recs Masterlists To Be Able To Go Back And Read My Fav Fics. Its So Heartwarming Seeing

I started doing recs masterlists to be able to go back and read my fav fics. It’s so heartwarming seeing people interact with them :(( sometimes it takes me hours to update them but it’s so worth it ! I still have so many fics I want to add there, I’ll try to do it as soon as possible 😊 anyways thank you everyone that interacted with my blog, it motivates me sm ❤️

just saw your post about the drabbles and if you could please write "you know what we are. you just want to hear me say it." with hyunjin i would love you forever (i would even if you didn't write it tho). thank you <3

- 💗

"What are we?"

"You know what we are" you smiled, looking up at him for a moment before your face was buried on his chest again. "You just want to hear me say it".

"Well, yes" Hyunjin pouted, tightening his hold around your waist as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "Haven't heard you say it to your family all day".

You chuckled, but ultimately said nothing. Instead, you just took a deep breath and let yourself relax under the warmth of your boyfriend's touch.

It still felt surreal to call him that. Boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Having been friends most of your life, to the point that your family considered him to be another member of it and his family considered you a part of theirs, it surely felt like you were dreaming to get to call him that now, instead of just your best friend.

Then again, your family had been there when you first caught feelings for each other — catching on in the switch from platonic love to romantic feelings even before you did.

They had been there when the two of you finally realised your own feelings and started to faintly act on them.

They were there that night when you came back home squealing, after you went on a date neither of you dared to call as such and he softly kissed you by your doorstep.

They had been there through it all, and therefore, the term 'boyfriend' had become the rule to them when it came to what Hyunjin was to you.

No matter how many times you called them out on it, no matter how many times they almost slipped up in the presence of Hyunjin himself, and no matter how many times you told them you were still just friends, to them, Hwang Hyunjin was your boyfriend.

So, although you had only made it official a day ago, it hadn’t really crossed your mind to introduce him as such when your parents invited him over for lunch that Sunday, like it was usual by now.

"Are you telling them we're a couple now?" He mumbled.

This time, you couldn't help but giggle. "They've been referring to you as my boyfriend for like a month now".

Hyunjin smiled, having to bite his lip not to let out a breathy, incredulous laugh. "It's official now, though. So, you know… maybe…"

"You want to be introduced to them as my boyfriend?" You asked genuinely.

Pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him once more, you were met with his excited eyes before he nodded.

He had been your best friend for years now, and he wanted everyone to acknowledge the fact that he wasn't just that anymore.

He wanted to take pride in being called your boyfriend now, especially in front of your family.

Smiling over how cute he was, you leaned up to press your mouth on his — feeling him smile against your lips before he cupped your face and his thumbs traced the corners of your mouth.

Your lips only detached when you heard an obnoxious cough by the door, being met with your sister's inability to hide her very obvious smirk.

"Mum says to go outside with the rest of us" she quickly let you know before her eyes fixed on Hyunjin. "And our dad wants your help with the barbecue".

Hyunjin nodded, placing his hands on your wrists to undo your hold on him. "Yeah, of cou—"

"Just let me hug my boyfriend for a little longer" you pouted, paying no mind to his previous attempt of walking away to go help your dad, as you rested your cheek on his chest and your arms tightened around his body.

Your heart melted over the way Hyunjin's heartbeat sped up at the sound of your words, feeling it pound heavily against the side of your face; and a small giggle escaped your mouth when one second later you felt his arms wrap around your waist and his lips press a kiss to the crown of your head.

On the other hand, your sister rolled her eyes in disgust.

"Hurry up or I'm telling them you guys are taking too long because you're making out" she threatened as she turned around to walk away. "Not like they'd really care, but…"

Watching her disappear from your view, your eyes locked with Hyunjin's again. He looked just as amused as you were.

"She didn't even bat an eye" you confirmed your prediction.

"And apparently your parents wouldn't mind us making out in here?" He laughed incredulously.

"I told you it'd be no news to them".

Shaking his head in amusement as a soft chuckle escaped his lips, he leaned down to lock them with yours in a tender kiss. "It's okay".

Maybe having your family take him for your boyfriend already was just as good as you introducing him as such to them, if not better.

In the end, what mattered was that they knew you were together and that he wasn't just your best friend anymore, right?

He didn't need you to tell them what you were at all.

"Still want me to call you my boyfriend in front of my parents?" You mumbled against his mouth.

He snorted, pressing his lips to yours once more. "Absolutely".

day 5 · 「déclencheur」

❝𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏.❞

➥ Model!Minho x Photographer!Reader (f) — 3.5k

➥ The author chooses not to tag every single act to preserve some element of surprise where applicable. By continuing, you accept to read at your own risk. Read full disclaimer here.

⚠ — Crass & objectifying language, raw depictions of sex, praise kink.

➥ It’s a known fact that Lee Minho is a whore for compliments, but it’s a particularly useful piece of information when you want to seduce the shit out of him.

If you had Lee Minho on the cover of your magazine, that issue was a guaranteed killer sale. Regardless of his obscenely high booking fee, he was the it guy everybody was after to do a pictorial with. So pleasant to look at, extremely attractive, smolder for days, practically a modern-day sex icon who could and would fuck you through a goddamn photograph.

Your shoot days with him were more like a self-indulgent me time rather than work due to how aggressively you were flirting with each other. He probably did this with everyone, but who would give a rat’s ass really? Your ego was getting stroked to the point of having violent orgasms, and you weren’t complaining.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t have the teensiest bit of a crush on him, though.

“There’s my favorite model,” you greeted him into your studio, “How we doin’ today, pretty?”

“We would do fucking great if someone didn’t forget the Cartier pieces,” Minho shot death glares to his assistant by the door, “You like the styling at least?”

“Give the man a break. You look fantastic,” you reassured him and grabbed your camera, “Ready to begin?”

Poof. On cue. Minho’s entire personality changed into whatever you wanted it to be every time he walked in front of your lens. You wanted dreamy? You got it. You wanted a player? You got it. You wanted an unhinged serial killer? You got it, got it, got it.

“Show me your side profile again?” you shot five frames back to back, “Fucking gorgeous.”

What you absolutely loved about working with Minho was what a goddamn exhibitionist he was, and unapologetically so. You never had to indulge in camera foreplay with him because he was just always in the mood. Every time you had a shoot together, not only was he clearly into it, but it was almost like he was striking these bold-ass poses on purpose to seduce you, manspreading, excessive use of his tongue and lips, literally feeling himself as if to say ‘You wanna hit this, don’t you?’, taunting you without a single word. You knew why that was, of course. 

Minho fished for praise like the attention whore he was every chance he got, and to his absolute pleasure, you were never stingy with it.

“Thank you, everyone, for your hard work,” you wrapped up the shoot and addressed the set, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone with my model. I’ll do a few more shots for my portfolio now that I have him cornered.”

It was standard practice at this point. Minho never said no to having extra photographs taken by you on the condition that you provided him with the digital copies right afterwards. The set was cleared momentarily, and you looked Minho up and down, grinning to yourself thinking about the alleged concept you concocted.

“Shall we do a little exercise? So that you can get in the zone,” you changed the memory card of your camera, “What turns you on, pretty?”

“The question is pretty redundant, don’t you think?” he sprawled on the leather tufted chair he was posing on moments ago, “Are you asking on purpose to hear it out loud?”

“Hear what out loud?”

“That it’s you that turns me on,” he pressed two fingers on his right temple, “I can’t stay soft when I have a shoot with you, and I think you know.”

“Are you sure it’s me because I can bet money it’s the compliments.”

“What if it’s you showering me with compliments?” 

You squinted your eyes, thinking about how Minho had this compulsive need to have the last word. You walked towards him and lowered your body to be at his eye level.

“Why do you like hearing how gorgeous you are so much?”

“You know you like it when I hardcore simp over you. You’re no better than me,” he mockingly chuckled, “Shall we do a little exercise?”

He suddenly sat up in his seat and brought his face millimeters away from yours. He was so close, you could practically feel his lips on you.

“You’re the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on, and you get me weak as fuck in the knees,” he spoke in a voice at least one and a half octaves lower, “Everybody knows how bad I wanna fuck you.”

“Do they?” you sneered with an amused expression on your face.

“Yes, because I tell them.”

“You actually tell people that you want to fuck me.”

“No, I tell them I want to blow your back out so fucking hard you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

This was way past your usual back-and-forth at this point, and you were goddamn perjuring yourself if you claimed you weren’t aroused even in the slightest. A part of you absolutely wanted to close the microscopic distance between you, but the other well-versed-in-Minhoism part of you got the sickest pleasure from not giving him what he wanted and was dying to see how far he was willing to take it.

“Has anyone ever told you you might be giving too much credit to yourself?”

“Free trial,” he reclined back in his seat, exhibiting the outline of what you could be sitting on like a badly wrapped present, “If you’re not satisfied, 200% money back guarantee, no questions asked.”

You snorted in amusement and went back to your camera, changing the setting to monochrome and zooming in on his eyes.

“If you give me what I want, I’ll take you up on your offer.”

That was the beauty of macro lenses. If you zoomed close enough, you could see the unspoken words flash in someone’s eyes, and Minho’s were currently screaming ‘No fucking way’ even though his façade was perfectly intact.

“Name your price,” he smugly demanded instead.

You peeled your eyes off your viewfinder and looked directly into his eyes.

“I want to shoot nudes of you.”

He was surprised, but not because of the shock value. He just thought you would throw something much harder at him.

“That’s nothing.”

“While you’re masturbating.”

Now he was contemplating. Stripping was one thing—he modeled for boudoir photographers from time to time himself, but even though Minho was infinitely comfortable with his sexuality, masturbating without knowing where these photos could end up at…

But it was you for fuck’s sake.

“Do you guarantee you’re not going to make a profit off of these without my knowledge?”

“Absolutely.”

“And you’ll sleep with me?”

“No.”

You pushed a nearby leather armchair next to the camera and assumed the exact same position as him. You looked like mirror images of each other.

“I’ll fuck you,” you declared as if you were challenging him.

The hesitation evanesced as quickly as it came, and Minho returned to his insufferably smug self in a matter of seconds.

“Then give me something to work with, baby.”

“You want magazines or something?”

“No, I want you.”

You burst out laughing, more hysterically than out of amusement. This guy could insist.

“You can’t touch me just yet.”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “but whatever you want me to remove, you’ll also take it off.”

Your eyes briefly traveled on his face, trying to figure out what kind of a game he was after. If it was Lee Minho, shortcuts were out of the question unless he was the one taking them.

Well… Whatever.

“Fine,” you accepted his proposal, and the battle began in earnest. 

You took off your shoes, and so did he. You took off your watch, and so did he. You took off your top, and so did he.

And you were now 1-0 ahead because you had a bra on whereas his fucking sculpted-in-the-Renaissance of a torso was all bare, ready to be eyefucked by you.

“You should go on one of those sexiest men alive lists. It’s annoying how hot you are,” you went on aggressive offense, “It’s like somebody photoshopped you.”

Minho didn’t say anything and just grinned at you. You grinned back while unbuttoning your jeans. He got rid of his pants with you. 

When you discarded your underwear, however, all his arrogance was erased from his face. He was staring at your pussy like a virgin seeing a naked girl for the first time.

“Do you like it?”

“I knew it was pretty, but I didn’t know how much,” he thickly swallowed.

You opened your legs wider apart, putting your slick folds on perfect display for him. Minho had no control over how he was reacting to you, audibly grunting at the delicious sight.

“See how wet?” you spread your labia to give him a better view, “It’s because of you.”

“I get that a lot,” he flashed a shit-eating grin, then channeled all his attention to your core again, “I think my tongue and your cunt might be a perfect match made in hell.”

“Your underwear,” you urged him to follow through, “Take it off.”

You had witnessed Minho sporting a hard on in front of your camera like it was part of his styling several times before, but seeing in the flesh?

Fucking priceless.

“Spread your thighs for me,” you demanded, naïvely thinking he would oblige without a hiccup.

“I will if you come closer.”

“I will if you lay down on the floor.” 

It was a battle, and Minho knew he had a lot more to lose compared to you. Even though he was being a pain in the ass, he had no choice but to do as asked, but you were at least playing fair. Once he held up his end of the bargain, you set up your camera to take shots every eight seconds, then walked to him.

“You’re not close enough,” he complained like a kid being denied a shiny toy, “I want to feel your warmth next to me.”

“Then no peeking. Close your eyes,” you took off your bra and threw it on his face, crawling closer to him like a preying tigress right after, “I’m right beside you. Now touch yourself.” 

Minho wrapped his fingers around his delicious girth, languidly stroking himself to full hardness with no rush whatsoever like he was in his bed on a lazy Sunday morning.

“Bring your pussy close to my face,” he quietly pleaded, “I swear I’m not gonna do anything. I just wanna feel it close.”

You didn’t think much honestly. Within two seconds, you were straddling his face, your thighs on either side of him, and if your reflexes hadn’t kicked in, Minho’s sudden attempt to steal a lick was indeed going to be successful.

“Shh, behave,” you rebuked him and squeezed his face between your fingers, “You swore.”

Eyes still closed, he bit into his mischievous smile, having infinite amounts of fun. So what if he did? Were you that gullible to believe everybody that pinky promised you? 

“Come on, at least make it drip on my face.”

“Less talking, more jerking.”

You urged him, but unbeknownst to Minho you were doing the same thing. You licked your fingers and started rubbing your pussy on his face, close enough to make him go insane because of the wet sounds, but far enough that he couldn’t try anything again. All you could think about was how it would be the hottest fucking thing in the world if you squirted all over his gorgeous features right about now.

“I can hear how wet you are. I can smell it,” he hissed out of sheer lust, “You want me, too. You want me bad.”

“Yes, I do. Who wouldn’t want you?” you responded shamelessly, “Look at you, a fucking sex god in the flesh.”

Minho moaned so loudly hearing your words that you knew you got him where you wanted him. Right in the palm of your hand, literally and figuratively.

“Say it again,” he begged, “Again.”

You had never seen him this fucking desperate before, and it was more satisfying than the best porn out there. You lowered your body and breathily spoke into his ear.

“You’re a sex god, Minho.”

“Then worship me.” 

You lay down beside him and started running your hand all over his torso, his firm skin under your fingertips forcing more slick to ooze out of you.

“Your body is fucking unreal,” you uttered almost like a moan, “You make me wanna do really nasty things to you.”

“Who’s holding you back?” he squeezed his cock tighter, and drops of precum began pooling around his slit, “I’m available for your personal use anytime you want.”

“I can start by sitting on your pretty face maybe. Ease you into it,” you placed a ghost kiss on his forehead.

“If you let me creampie you first, it’ll be a treat to watch me get messy on your cunt later on.”

His words literally took your breath away, and Minho was simply in love with how much power he had over you without doing anything. This was the moment to land the killshot.

“I wanna have the nastiest fucking sex of my life with you. Sweat, spit, cum everywhere,” he rubbed his flushed cock faster, “Say yes. Say yes and I’ll blow your fucking mind.”

You could watch Minho jerk off to you for hours if he could last, but you had negative willpower left to resist the raging urge to fuck him like your life depended on it. You wanted him like you’d never wanted anything else in your life. 

And he knew.

You pressed your lips on the corner of his mouth for a long while, then whispered the answer he was dying to hear.

“Yes.”

He suddenly snapped his eyes open and immediately grabbed your waist, pulling you close to make you straddle him.

“Sit on it, gorgeous. Take all of it.”

It didn’t matter how wet you were. Minho’s girth was so thick that you were struggling to even push the tip in, and all his self-control was working at full capacity not to cum to this right then and there. 

“Shh, you can take it, baby. I know you can,” he soothed you, “I’ll mold your pussy for myself just right.”

He finally broke through. You were so tight around him that he had to move extra slow inside you until he bottomed out, otherwise he really was going to explode. All of you right in front of him to feel, and he didn’t know where to grope you first. His hands eventually landed on your ass and gave your cheeks a firm squeeze.

“Bad move to play mind games with me,” he maniacally smiled, “I’m so fucking obsessed with you, now we’re gonna have to fuck every time we see each other. I don’t give a shit if we’re in public or not.”

When that first thrust hit, you sharply inhaled and closed your eyes. It felt too full inside you.

“See what you’ve been missing out on?” he derided, arrogance dripping from every single one of his words, “I want all your holes, one for each meal of the day. I’ll be damned if I ever skip breakfast again.”

“You’re gonna give me yours in return I presume?” you pressed your hands on his chest.

“Anything you want is yours. Just fuck me.”

You obscenely licked all over your palm and cupped his balls behind you. They were so tightened already, and the frenzied moans Minho let out when you caressed him were just everything you could ask for.

“So full, you’re dying to unload inside me, aren’t you?” you jeered contently, “Go on, cream my pussy so I can finally have you make out with it.”

“With absolute pleasure,” he held onto your waist tighter, “Not gonna lie, eating my cum out of your cunt has been the number two fantasy of mine for the longest time.”

“What’s the number one?”

You lost your balance when he abruptly pulled your body down. His face was right in front of yours, begging to be revered with as many kisses as you could offer him.

“To eat it out of your ass,” he sighed right before crashlanding on your lips.

Minho’s appetite knew no bounds. If he kissed you long enough, you could cum to that alone. His thrusts went berserk as he ran his hands all over your back, his mouth refusing to detach from yours, and you eventually felt something erupt inside you. Warm. Pleasantly sticky. Filling you up to the brim.

He didn’t even wait to gather his wits. You found yourself on your back with one hasty turn, and before you could register what was happening, you saw Minho between your legs.

“Forcefeed me,” he squeezed your thighs so hard there would surely be Minho-shaped bruises on your skin the next day, “Keep my face down. Don’t let me breathe.”

“Eat till you’re full,” you pressed his face closer, “Like a hardcore fucking simp would.”

He immediately started ravaging your pussy as instructed. The feeling was so intense that you were about to lose your mind, and it was worse because you could hear the shutter sounds recording the way you were absolutely disheveling the Lee Minho’s million-dollar face, his entire mouth and chin soaked with your slick.

If these frames ever went public, his crazed fans would actually kill you, and it was the weirdest fucking turn on you were experiencing.

“Did you know I have a picture of you on my sun visor next to a vibrator?” you confessed while riding his face, “You’re so fucking pretty I can’t stop masturbating to you even in the middle of traffic.”

You were absolutely murdering him with your words. His moans in your pussy were pathetically loud as if he was the one getting his dick sucked. This was like all of Minho’s most violent wet dreams come true, and he didn’t give a shit if he overdosed on desire tonight. He would die like a fucking rockstar.

“Like that. Fuck, just like that! Spit on it,” you gritted your teeth, “God, nobody does it like you.”

It was as though you wanted him to wreck you. Every word you uttered that even remotely resembled praise was bringing out the absolute worst in Minho. He was eating your pussy like an out-of-control animal in heat, growling into you and smacking his lips to make the wettest fucking sounds ever. 

You weren’t wet—you were fucking flooding his face, so much so that it should have been considered waterboarding. He wasn’t moaning—he was grunting into you as if he was mad, like a full on rampage. You had never had your pussy ravished like this before. Your legs were uncontrollably shaking. You were practically screaming, but you’d run out of fucks to give as to who heard it. You had Lee fucking Minho eating your soul out of you like a goddamn dementor—you wanted them to hear it and die a painful death because of jealousy for all you cared.

When you started clenching too much, Minho got alerted to how close you were, which prompted him to immediately stop and ram his fully hard cock into you. You forgot everything you had in your vocabulary. All you could moan was his name over and over and over again, and it was the perfect opportunity for Minho to take advantage of.

“Who gets this pussy dripping wet?”

“Minho…”

“Who gets to eat your creampied cunt?”

“Ah, Minho…”

“Who’s fucking you this good, baby?”

“Minho…”

“Who’s the only god you worship?”

“Minho. Minho. MINHO!!!”

Who the fuck would be able to resist cumming when you were screaming your lungs out in hellfire level pleasure anyway? Sure as fuck not Minho. Your own orgasm hit you so hard that dragged-out moans kept spilling from your lips. He slowed his pace down thinking he was making you uncomfortable, however…

“NO!” you grabbed his waist in panic, “Keep… Just keep… don’t stop y—”

“Are you still cumming?”

You fervently nodded while making stupidly incoherent sounds. Your entire body was shaking like you were having a seizure, and needless to say, Minho lived for that shit.

“Fucked so good, can’t let go just yet,” he let out a teasing laugh and held you in his arms, “Shh, shh, shh I got you. Hold on to me.” 

He fucked you through your orgasm with his lips on yours, but it felt unnecessarily intimate. When you were finally done, you could feel your heart beating in your pussy, and the soreness in your legs became way too perceptible all of a sudden.

“I think we make a fantastic pair,” Minho brushed the damp strings of hair away from your face, “I want a copy of that entire memory card.”

“Not this time, pretty,” you softly bit into his lips and diabolically smiled, “You either see this pussy in the flesh, or you don’t see it at all.”

「© 2023, exxxtraoddinary · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

✉ Enjoyed this? It would be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・792 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, lots of kissing (again), a lil suggestive towards the end, inspired by his pictures from paris, which i am just. SOOOOOO normal about

𝟮:𝟭𝟬 𝗣.𝗠. — “Careful, my love,” Felix murmurs, his huff of laughter tickling the side of your neck when he loops a wary arm around your waist. You first feel your weight lifting off the metal railing of the double-decker bus, then the taut warmth of your boyfriend’s chest as you’re pulled against it.

When you lift your eyes to look at Felix, you have to squint against the sun—or maybe it’s him that’s making it so hard to see, wisps of blonde hair framing his face like freshly spun gold, flawless features illuminated so gloriously that he looks like an exhibit in the Louvre come alive.

“What was that for?” You ask with a furrowed brow, and Felix doesn’t reply right away, suddenly captivated by your newfound proximity.

His gaze darts to your lips; the rest of him follows. You perceive a delicate finger under your chin, a deliberate angle of his head, a tensing of his hand where it slides over your hip. And then he’s kissing you, so sweetly that you’re reminded of whipped cream, his mouth melting your pout to a defenseless smile. 

“You looked like—you were gonna—drop your phone.” These words are woven between three last pecks, the first placed to your lips, the second and third to each of your cheeks. Then Felix pulls away, only far enough for you to spot the teasing smile on his face. “Or fall off the bus. Neither outcome would’ve been ideal.”

“Did I really?” You giggle. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Yes. Or, I think so. I can’t remember anymore.” The tip of his nose bumps against yours lightly, affectionately, and you think your knees would’ve given at his next words if you weren’t literally wrapped in his arms. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

As you lift a hand to trace the contours of his jaw, to bring your fingers around the curve of his nape, you’re beginning to think they had a point, dubbing Paris the City of Love. You swear that his eyes have never been browner; that his freckles have never been so numerous; that you’ve never been as utterly and hopelessly beguiled with Lee Felix as you are right here, right now.

An idea surfaces—suddenly, surely. “Let me take pictures of you.”

A surprised chuckle rises to his throat. “Why?”

“Just trust me, baby.” And he does, with everything in him.

You untangle yourself from his embrace and settle into a seat on the other side of the bus. The next minutes are spent with him adopting various poses and postures before your lens, your fingers toying with the different lighting and focus settings as you attempt to capture him within the world of your screen—ironic, considering he’s a world in himself. The only one that matters; the only one that ever will.

When you’re finally finished, Felix is already motioning for you to return to his side, not wanting you out of his reach for a second longer than you absolutely need to be. You settle in Felix’s lap once you’re close enough—your legs hanging off the side of his seat, your temple leaning against his forehead—and the way his arms circle so readily and securely around your stomach feels like a cushioned fall.

“Tell me now?” He hums, planting a soft kiss to your cheek.

You heartbeat is in your ears as you start to flip through your camera roll. The pictures are perfect. He’s perfect. The princely man in the foreground of each puts even the stunning Parisian weather to shame.

“I wanted you to see yourself the way I do,” you whisper. “And only then would you really understand the meaning of that word, in its purest and brightest form.”

Felix feels his eyes widen; his breath catch in his throat. You hear the scratch of his interrupted inhale, and you're almost nervous when you turn to meet his eyes, despite your love feeling like it’s spanned lifetimes by now. And you know by his darkened gaze and flushed cheeks that he knows just which word you’re referring to.

Then, Felix closes the distance between the two of you again, but this kiss is completely devoid of the last one’s gentleness, open-mouthed, positively scalding, and intensely loving. Your lips sting a bit where his crash; your scalp tingles where he rakes a hand through your hair; your back shivers where the vibrations of his voice travel, his words nearly growled against your mouth.

“I love you,” he breathes.

Your palm comes to rest upon his chest, and the way his every heartbeat moulds to your touch is nothing short of classical.

“I love you more, beautiful.”

#♡ (open): @astraystayyh @like-a-diamondinthesky @fire-08

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

Hugs - Seungmin

Pairing: Seungmin x fem!reader

Genre: fluff with a lil angst

Summary: y/n is feeling touch starved, and feeling the need of some comfort. all she wants is a hug.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warning: reader feels sad, in need of comfort, reader has a crush on Seungmin,

Sometimes there are days where you just need a hug, but you don’t want to ask because it’s weird. Right? Who asks for hugs unless you need comfort, meeting someone after a long time, or saying goodbye. You can’t just ask for a hug.

Sure, maybe you did need some comfort, but someone just holding you for a moment in time sounded refreshing.

Who could you even ask to give you a hug? You thought about it for a while. The thought kept creeping back into your mind every now and then for a week. It was like your heart and soul was crying for a touch of love.

Seungmin, your best friend and secret crush, was over for a movie night. He is quite an observant person. Sometimes he could read you like an open book. It a few glances to tell how you really feel. There have been many moments in your friendship where he could tell you were in an uncomfortable situation, and he tagged along with you so you weren’t alone. He was truly remarkable.

Your eyes were laser focused into the movie, but your mind was completely elsewhere. You didn’t even notice that Seungmin was watching you half the time trying to read your mind. He was convinced something was wrong. Normally, when watching a movie, your feet are propped up on his thighs, yet instead your legs are tucked underneath you with your arms wrapped around them. You were completely on your side of the couch and not in his space.

Next thing you know, the movie is paused. You snap your head towards Seungmin, “Why did you pause?”

You didn’t expect his whole body to be facing you sitting criss cross. He had the remote still pointed to the TV. You could see his eyes examining your whole body. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do you need something?”

“Yes.”

You didn’t think he was going to answer so suddenly. You hesitate before speaking, “Okaaay? What do you need?”

“Do you swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth?” Seungmin asks while scooting closer to you, making you lean back.

“I’m sorry, but what the hell are you talking about?”

“I need you to promise.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you won’t tell the truth if I don’t pressure you.”

You scoff at his reasoning. He wasn’t lying, but you hated that he was right. He wasn’t trying to be pushy, but he was trying to tell you he knows something is wrong. You don’t talk about yourself. You don’t let people in because it means they can sneak into your heart. However, Seungmin sneaked in a long time ago without even trying.

“Do you need me to grab a bible or something?” you joke.

Seungmin holds up his pinky. He is one to hold pinky promises sacred. It was a special thing between the two of you. “Pinky promise me.”

You sigh deeply knowing that there was no way out of this. You shortly stare at his long pinky thinking of a way to divert his attention to something else, but Seungmin isn’t stupid. Far from it. You glance up into his eyes. They were stern yet soft. He was trying to be careful.

You adjust to criss cross as well and raise your pinky to interlock with his. “Fine. What is it?”

“What’s wrong?”

Your grip on Seungmin’s pinky tightens. All of your senses are heightened. You didn’t realize that your knees were touching his. Or how your leggings were hugging your thighs. Or how tight your ponytail was. For some reason, his question caught you off guard.

“Why?” you ask

“Just answer the question. Something's off. I can smell it,” he sniffs.

He was trying to lighten the mood with a joke. Something you admire about him.

You loosen your grip and bring your hands down between the two of you, pinkies still intertwined.

Your mind is going a million miles an hour, trying to figure out how to explain your feelings. Every way you think you can explain it, it sounds dumb in your brain. It sounds unbelievable. You have to be over reacting. Why is your brain thinking this way? Why can’t you just get over it and move on?

“Hey!” Seungmin’s voice break you out of your thoughts. “Come back to the real world please.”

You let out a breathy chuckle, “Sorry. I just… I don’t know how to explain it very well.”

Seungmin shrugged his shoulders while unhooking your pinky from his. “Try me.”

You already missed his soft touch. You knew you were incredibly touch starved to where holding pinkies made you feel safe. You so badly wanted to reach out for his hand again, but instead, you tuck your hands into your hoodie pockets.

“Do you promise not to judge me?” you question.

Seungmin gently rolled his eyes “When have I ever judged you?” You cocked your head to the side and eyes hooded as he replied to his own question. “Don’t answer that.”

You slightly smirked at his comment. You stare at the space between the two of you for a moment before gaining the courage to speak your mind. “Do… do you ever feel like you just need a hug sometimes?”

You looked up into his puppy like eyes, his head tilted slightly. You couldn’t exactly read his reaction. He looked confused, but he looked like his eyes were filled with admiration. An odd combination.

“I know you don’t like skinship, but past that, do you ever just want someone to hold you?” you explain deeper.

The silence grows between the two of you. All you could hear was your own heart beating out of your chest. The heat grew on your already rosy cheeks.  This was a mistake. He may be your best friend, but being vulnerable with him, or in general, has always been difficult.

“You know what,” you lightly chuckle in embarrassment. “Never mind! It sounds silly anyways. I don’t know even what I’m talking abo-“

Arms are suddenly secured around your shoulders, bringing you to a bony shoulder. The smell of sandalwood and musk surround you just like the arms holding you tight. You could feel Seungmin’s breath on your neck. He was so close to you. Sure, you have hugged before, but this was different. This was a hug full of love. You didn’t realize you were frozen until you felt soft fingers caressing your spine. You slowly take your hands out of your hoodie and wrap your arms around Seungmin’s waist, gripping on to him while relaxing into his body at the same time.

“Needing comfort is never silly, Y/N,” Seungmin whispers.

You bury your head into the crook of his neck from his statement. You could almost feel tears brew in your eyes, but you close your eyes to keep them from falling. Seungmin leaves a sweet, tender kiss on your temple before resting his head onto yours. He starts swaying you back and forth.

The hug lasts for what feels like forever. You could get used to this feeling, Seungmin holding you. It was nice to have someone hold you. Someone to rest upon. The world felt a little lighter, just for a moment.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Seungmin breaks the silence.

You pull away from his grasp to look up at him. He still has his arms around you, afraid to let you go. He scans your face to make sure you are okay. He takes a piece of hair that fell out of your ponytail and tucks it behind your ear. It made your heart swoon. “It’s just been tough lately. That’s all really. I’ve felt stuck. I feel like I’m not enough. Just… the same things over and over again,” you explain.

Seungmin knew well of your struggles and insecurities. Trying to do college and work can be difficult sometimes. On top of that, trying to have a healthy social life and schedule can be hectic. This is the first movie night in 3 weeks because of both busy schedules. Seungmin has been preparing for a comeback while you were in the midst of midterms. Finally having this break was nice, but it came with the overwhelming leftover feelings.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin frowns, resting his forehead on your shoulder while his hands move to around your waist.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Min,” you reassure. Your arms adjust to wrap around his shoulders. One hand finds its ways into his soft, silky hair.

Seungmin shakes his head, “Yes I do. You were there for me all last week while you were swamped with exams, yet I didn’t do anything for you. I was so blind in rehearsals and recording sessions that I didn’t see you were struggling.”

“Oh, Min. It’s okay.”

“No, Y/N. It’s not.” Seungmin lifts his head. His face is only several inches away from your face. His eyes dart back and forth from your eyes. “You helping me was a cry for help. Taking time out of your busy week to comfort me was enough to show that you were also struggling. No sane person goes out of their way when they have too much on their plate.”

‘Well, it helps that I’m basically in love with you’ you think.

You have always been a person who helps others before yourself, especially when it comes to helping Seungmin.

“It’s honestly okay. You are here right now. That’s what matters,” you smile, patting his head.

“What can I do for you right now?” he asks.

“How about you just keep holding me? I think that will help me a lot,” you answer.

Seungmin smiles, “I can do that.”

You adjust your position to both of you lying on the couch. Seungmin’s head rests on the arm of the couch with a pillow raising it up slightly. He pulls you on top of him, legs intertwining together. Your head lies on his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Seungmin grabs the remote to continue playing the movie.

“Thank you, Min,” you whisper in his ear.

He tilts his head down to glance at you before pressing his lips to your forehead, “Anytime. I’m always here for you.”

ੈ✩‧ ➛ changbin thinks he's subtle as he pines over you

pairing : changbin x gn reader ; genre : fluff | warnings : 1 swear word ; word count : 0.5k words

summary : what better way than flexing his muscles for changbin to tell you how much he's in love with you? it's perfect and its subtle! he thinks he's a genius for coming up with it. you would get the hint, right?

chan's ver. | hyunjin's ver. | jeongin's version | felix's ver. | lee know's ver.

seungmin groans as he sees changbin discard his leather jacket, biceps rippling againt the sheer white cloth that was supposed to be his sleeves.

"and why are you removing your jacket when the air conditioning is at its lowest temperature?"

changbing was really hoping nobody would notice, his fingers crossed and all, but he should've known better with 7 other people in the room.

"because it's hot."

there's 3 beats of silence before Lee Know sneezes so loud he startles jeongin from his nap.

"is my cold a fucking joke to you?"

changbin didn't know what to say, not when he knew the others could see the blush creeping up his cheeks.

"y/n said they won't be arriving until the next 15 minutes. you can keep it on until then."

"chan hyung!"

"what?"

"I am not doing this for y/n. it's actually hot."

changbin is met with six blank stares and one grinning felix who trails the goosebumps covering the older boy's arms, earing a smack from him.

"so you're not doing this to flex your muscles when y/n comes?"

"hah! as if."

there's another beat of silence, and this time it's broken by changbin sneezing, and he's horrified because he knows he's lost the argument.

"changbin, we understand you want to show off to y/n but it's really not worth a cold."

"but I need to impress them!"

"then remove it when they come."

changbin all but whines as he sinks further into the couch, adamant as ever that he won't let the cold leather bother him.

it was cold, he knew it too. but how else was he supposed to make you fall in love with him? he loved showing off all those muscles he worked so hard on, basking in your fascination every time you complemented them.

he didn't care what the rest of the members said. yes it would be easier to confess but what was the fun in that?

it's a while before you show up, pulling your sweater closer, apologizing for the delay.

"binnie! it's so cold, where is your jacket?"

a blush blooms across the expanse of said boy's cheeks as he "casually" lifts his bottle to take a sip of water, not missing the way your eyes momentarily land on his oh-so-big arms.

"right here."

again, he makes a show of reaching towards the leather clothing, taking his time to flex his arms and earning a snort from hyunjin who sees right through him.

"you won't believe we spent the last fifteen minutes trying to get him to-"

changbin is quick to cut han off, eyes narrowing at the younger boy.

luckily for changbin, you don't notice anything unusual as you take your place next to him, engaging in casual conversation with the boys, trying not to show how flustered you were with his arm draping behind you on the backrest of the couch.

the other seven watch in mild amusement. yes changbin was a big baby who would never admit he didn't have the courage to confess to you. yes he was smitten in love and terrible at owning up to it. but he was also smooth, and his supposedly subtle ways to catch your attention always worked somehow. they could only hope that at least you would make the first move, otherwise who knows to what extent the boy would go for you.

©lixie-phoria, 2023

tags : @lethallyprotected @dreamingaboutjisung @selcayuri @bangchansbae @aak2 @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @jiisungllvr @starlostlaiba (send an ask to be added/removed!)