An Art Museum Sounds Really Cool, Good Luck With The Camp !!

hi it’s 👽 i saw that you wrote about a reader that smokes weed in your felix oneshot and i was just wondering what type of potheads you think skz members would be

POTHEADS — stray kids

스트레이 키즈 ⨳ genre/s: headcanons (?) ⨳ warnings: obviously the members of skz are stoners, mentions of anxiety, stress, feeling overwhelmed, let me know if i missed anything please i’m high ⨳ rating: 18+ ⨳ word count: 1.8k ⨳ summary: green decides what kind of stoners the stray kids members are. 

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🍃 방찬 — BANG CHAN. 

I feel like he started smoking weed after he heard it helped relieve anxiety and stress as well as  insomnia. He keeps a bong in his bedroom right under his bed so he can give it a few hits right before bed. Chan also seems to me like the kind of person who would walk around with a handful of neatly-rolled joints in a small tin box that also carries a lighter. It’s often that Chan would excuse himself and walk towards his car just to smoke a joint to calm his mind as soon as his anxiety started to get the better of him, and he would return to work red-eyed and freshly sprayed cologne that everyone pretended to not notice. 

When he’s high alone he almost always finds himself staring at the ceiling with a blank expression for a long while, just feeling the blissful emptiness of his own mind. He also just sleeps heavily, like sometimes he’ll be immediately knocked out after a hit of his bong or two. If he’s high while working he finds it easier to focus and really get into the zone of the most routine parts of it, and sometimes being high really helps him think better when it comes to writing. It’s mostly just a hit or miss. 

However, when he’s high along with friends, it becomes a different story entirely. He’s just so energetic, so talkative and giggly — there’s a reason he’s so popular amongst idols. He treats the world like a wonder that delights him every single time. Whatever story you tell him, it is received with great enthusiasm and it’s the very thing most like about him. 

On the downside, smoking as much as he does really causes memory loss for him, and it’s a struggle he accepts if it means a good night’s sleep. He actually did try to stay sober for at least a month and found that he hated who he became without weed since he didn’t have anything to console his anxiety or to knock him out for the night. 

🍃 리노 — LEE KNOW. 

Minho doesn’t exactly give me stoner vibes, but I do think he enjoys eating edibles (a.k.a. Felix’s brownies) every once in a while to take the edge off or to relax with the boys. If he’s feeling a little more adventurous, he’ll smoke from whatever the others are smoking from — bong, pipe, joint, whatever. Generally speaking, though, I wouldn’t consider him to be a full-blown pothead since I don’t think he’s the kind to enjoy the feeling of not being in control of his awareness often. 

Regardless of if he’s alone or not, I think he would be the kind of guy who would just eat constantly. As a matter of fact, don’t even talk to him if you don’t have something to feed him. It’s ridiculous, honestly. When he is eating, though, he’s so giggly. Jokes that he wouldn’t laugh at, he finds to be the funniest damn thing in the world — just no thought process going on, just giggles. 

🍃 창빈 — CHANGBIN. 

Changbin started smoking as a teenager and this is a hill I’m willing to die on even though there’s literally nothing that I could say to justify this opinion — I can just picture him sneaking out of the house and school to smoke joints with his buddies and then enjoying the nauseous thrill of getting away with it when he’d return to where he’s supposed to be. I think this might be when he discovered his passion for rapping, I think he was goofing around with his friends singing and rapped a little too well. He probably became curious about it and started doing research and trying to write some verses for himself. 

Perhaps he tried to quit around the time of his debut, though, since he wanted to remain sober and sharp during this extremely crucial period of his career. He did so well for a long time, you’d never tell he used to get high all the time back in his teenage years. But then he recognized the familiar scent of weed in the dormitories with the other members and quickly found out it was because of Chan — that was enough for him to return to his old ways, his leader was doing it while being the company’s golden child. 

Presently, I believe Changbin only smokes out of a bong. He’s at that point in life where he doesn’t really care about leaving something so obviously related to weed out in his room, so he keeps it in the bathroom cabinet that he uses by himself in his own apartment. There’s not a moment he’s home but not high, it’s the first thing he does when he wakes up, comes back home, and goes to sleep. That bong is always packed, and he genuinely loves it that way. It just makes him feel like he’s traveled back to the days he was young and naive, writing only for himself and rapping in exchange for the laughter of his friends. 

While high, he’d also feel starved all the time. It’s not uncommon for him to be eating so much after getting high — which explains the constant jokes the other members make about him loving to eat so much, he’s always high. He’s also very loud and giggly, and just loves making other people laugh. However, if you catch him alone, he’d likely rope into you a very intense conversation in which you confess your darkest thoughts and feelings though he never judges and keeps it to himself. 

🍃 현진 — HYUNJIN. 

Being such a devout artist and enjoyer of the arts, I wouldn’t be surprised at all if he stumbled upon like-minded people who happened to also spend time smoking weed. He’d love it from the first puff of smoke, freely allowing his mind to fog up as he melted into every tingle of his skin that seemed to follow the beat of the music playing in the distance. This would be the moment that would forever change the course of his life as he soon found himself obsessed with perfecting the art of rolling a flawless joint. 

He would often add various types of flowers into his joint just to enhance his experience. The beautiful mixture of the very different types of flowers was absolutely intoxicating, and it always inspired him with an abundance of creativity that he always spilt into either the blank canvases he’d buy in dozens or the hundreds of half-filled notebooks he collected everywhere. 

I feel like Hyunjin and Changbin would enjoy smoking together a lot. Changbin already likes having deep conversations when he’s like this, and I feel like Hyunjin would also enjoy having these types of conversations as well as the philosophical ones. And I think Hyunjin would like smoking with Felix, too, since they’d always end up listening to soft music that makes them feel like they’re levitating while describing every thought that crosses their mind. 

Sometimes he would accidentally get too high, which then causes to become very anxious. For this, he always carries various crystals in his pockets for him to fiddle with as a way to ground himself. But overall, I’d kill to smoke with him so we can be artists together and then maybe even share our works and have a whole discussion about it all. It just sounds so peaceful to me. 

🍃 한 — HAN. 

Han was encouraged by Chan to start smoking, that much I would say. He’s just so overwhelmed with anxiety, constantly feeling as though he were a cup full of water that is just about to spill over. So Chan invited him into his world of soothing serenity as he’d smoke him out for a while. Eventually Han just started getting his own pipe and his own weed. 

His memory is absolutely shot as of now, but it’s okay because he’s not so overly-conscious of the fact that he’s constantly perceived by other people so he’ll consider it a win anyway. He would constantly smell like weed, which the other members find irritating because they’d panic about someone finding out they all smoke. He just always gets a little too high and forgets that he’s not supposed to be a pothead. 

🍃 이용복 — FELIX. 

I’m not sure when exactly he would start smoking, but I do know he would be the kind of guy to mindlessly always be smoking people out when he smokes. He just enjoys having company when he’s taking the edge off, he definitely sees socializing as smoking and vice versa. It’s very rare to catch him hanging out with a friend and not smoking with them. 

Whenever he finds out about a tour or a long trip away from home for work, he’s always sure to bake some treats so he can still get high without drawing too much attention to himself with the smell. He’s just paranoid, but it’s fine. Felix also just likes bragging about his baking skills since nobody ever really tastes the usual twinge of weed, it could really pass as a normal brownie until it hits you an hour later. 

Yeah, he’s always high, I’m so certain of it, he’s just very good at hiding it. 

🍃 승민 — SEUNGMIN. 

Seungmin was probably very bewildered when he found out his members smoked weed, always watching them get high while he sat in a corner quietly. He’d be so curious to know what it felt like, but the members didn’t let him even hold a lighter before he was old enough to. That doesn’t mean he didn’t constantly irritate the members while trying to take a puff whenever they smoked together. 

As soon as he was considered an adult, he bought himself so much weed along with a brand new bong as well as a whole box of prerolls to celebrate. He did stop smoking it pretty soon after, though, because he realized the risks of damage to his throat if he continued so he now settles with the edibles. 

He’s very goofy when he’s high, too, always throwing sly jokes left and right as if his life depended on it. He just likes making others laugh since the silence feels too loud. I’d also dare say he becomes very sleepy easily as well, so he’d probably be the first to knock out in the middle of a smoking session. 

🍃 아이엔 — I.N.

Jeongin definitely had mixed feelings about his members smoking when he found out. He was raised with the very emphasized idea that smoking and doing drugs will definitely lead to your own demise so he was definitely very concerned for his members. However, everyone was very surprised when he actually asked to smoke for his birthday to celebrate his becoming an official adult — he just wanted to at least try it out before he condemned something. 

Him getting into the sticky world of potheads was probably even more surprising. Jeongin is mostly a social smoker, but sometimes he enjoys rolling very uneven joints for himself to smoke when he’s particularly overwhelmed. Overall, he’s very much quiet when high, always observing everyone else with an occasional laugh every now and then. It almost feels like he’s watching a scene from a movie, he’d say. 

posted: 06 • 30 • 2024

💬 a note from green;

This was honestly so much fun to do while stoned myself, I genuinely want to smoke with all the members of SKZ so badly. I’m also so psyched to find fellow stoner stays on here, let’s all smoke together please and thank you. Thank you so much for the request! Sending you all the love!

( 🏷️ ) permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx

Oh, Green!

I can’t even begin to describe how happy it made me when I saw that you had answered my requests! When I tell you that I genuinely teared up while reading both of them, it was so beautifully written. Thank you so much for this blessing!

I honestly can’t wait until you post my Hyunjin request. Based on what you wrote for Jongseob and Gaon, I just know that the one for Hyunjin is also going to have me crying.

You genuinely seem like such a sweet person! So I’m really glad to have found your blog!

All the love,

🩷 Anon

Hey 🩷, I’m sorry I didn’t see this sooner!

But I’m so, so glad that I managed to deliver well! Thank you so much for the compliments, your requests were the blessing here because they were so self-indulgent 🫶🥹

As for your Hyunjin request, it’s getting there! It looks like it’ll end up being a longfic because I just want to really go into the whole friendship dynamics and I also want the friendship to flow into romance in a way that makes sense, so it’s taking me a little while to figure out the flow of the story. I promise I haven’t forgotten it!

I try to be as sweet as I can, and I’m happy you found me ❤️‍🩹

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

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

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

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 14 mins

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist @nxtt2-u @nebugalaxy @bokk-minnie @tajannah-price1 (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

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This was so sweet 🥺 Cramps are honestly the absolute worst, hope you’re feeling better 🫶 Sending you lots of positive energy 💕

📺 SAFE HAVEN ( stray kids )

❛ Chan takes care of you while on your period.

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 6 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so sweet to write 🥹 I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Reader is on her period, Chan takes care of you, you’re both visiting Chan’s family in Australia, very brief mention of guilt, let me know if I missed anything!

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

The soft murmur of your favorite show played faintly in the background, each line of dialogue blending into a soothing yet distant hum. The television’s glow cast a gentle light across the room, but its usual comfort eluded you today. Instead, you lay in bed, curled into a tight ball, desperately seeking relief from the relentless, gnawing cramps that seemed to seize your body from within. Your limbs wrapped around yourself as if trying to shield against the waves of pain that rippled through your core.

Your face contorted with each sharp pang, your expression a silent testimony to the agony that had besieged you since morning. The familiar script of your monthly torment played out with a cruel consistency, each episode bringing no closer respite. The same story, month after month, had woven itself into the fabric of your existence, a bleak narrative of suffering that refused to grant you reprieve.

No matter the remedy you tried, the painkillers, the herbal teas, the hot water bottles – all seemed powerless against the merciless grip of your cramps. It was as if your body had built an impenetrable fortress against relief, immune to every effort to ease your suffering. This miserable reality hovered at the edges of your thoughts, mocking your attempts to find solace. The knowledge that nothing seemed to help only deepened the sense of helplessness that accompanied these moments, leaving you to endure the pain in a seemingly endless cycle of discomfort and despair.

A groan brushed past your lips as you shifted in bed, trying to find a more comfortable position amid the relentless ache. The door to your boyfriend's childhood bedroom creaked open, revealing Chan's cautious form as he slowly made his way inside. In his hands, he held a paper bag filled with various items from the nearby convenience store. The room filled with the gentle rustling of the bag and the soft creak of the wooden floor beneath his feet.

Opening one eye, you saw Chan's gentle smile, his concern palpable even in the dim light. But the sight of his kindness brought a sudden wave of guilt crashing over you, and you quickly closed your eye again, unable to meet his gaze. Today was supposed to be filled with joy and family, a rare chance for Chan to spend a full day with his loved ones. Yet, your unexpected period had left you bedridden, tethered to the soft confines of his old bed.

Despite your insistence that he go on without you, Chan had refused to leave your side. You should have known better than to think he would actually listen when he knew you were struggling. His unwavering presence, while comforting, only deepened your sense of guilt. You felt like an anchor, keeping him from the family he so seldom got to see. The thought weighed heavily on you, intertwining with the physical discomfort in a cruel dance of emotions.

Chan moved quietly around the room, placing the bag on the nightstand. The contents clinked softly together: a mix of your favorite snacks, a bottle of water, pain relievers, and a few other thoughtful items he hoped might bring you some relief. His every action spoke of his care and love, a gentle reassurance that he was here for you, despite your own feelings of inadequacy.

"I told you I would be okay, Channie," you whined, your voice laced with exasperation. He responded with an adorable chuckle, the sound like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves, as he took his spot beside you on the bed. His strong arms wrapped around your torso, their embrace offering the perfect comfort you couldn’t resist, even as you continued to pout.

"I know you did, baby, but I couldn't leave you behind like this," he replied, his voice filled with the gentle reassurance you had come to love. His words were expected, yet they still carried a warmth that made your heart ache with gratitude. "I went out and got you some goodies instead. We can cuddle and watch your show for a while. I promise my family understands."

Despite his comforting presence, you huffed at him, furrowing your eyebrows in a show of disapproval. Still, you allowed him to turn you around, positioning you so that his warm thigh pressed against your lower abdomen. The combination of pressure and warmth brought a sigh of relief from your lips as the pain subsided a little, eliciting a light giggle from him.

His laughter was a melody that soothed your soul, and though you tried to maintain your disgruntled demeanor, the comfort of his touch and the relief from your cramps were undeniable. His presence was a reminder that you were cherished, that he was willing to sacrifice his day to ensure you felt loved and cared for.

As you nestled closer to him, the room filled with the soft sounds of your favorite show and the quiet hum of shared contentment. The guilt and frustration began to melt away, replaced by a serene gratitude for the man who held you so tenderly. In this moment, wrapped in his embrace, you felt a deep sense of peace, knowing that even in your weakest moments, you were never alone. His love was a steadfast anchor, grounding you amidst the storm of your discomfort, and for that, you were eternally thankful.

"Still, your family barely gets to see you, so I feel bad for taking you away from them when you're finally here," you mumbled shyly, a frown forming on your lips at the mere thought. The weight of your guilt pressed heavily on your heart, clouding the joy of having Chan by your side. His presence was a comfort, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that you were stealing precious moments from his family.

Chan shifted closer, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. His hand found its way to your stomach, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin. The gentle motion was a balm to your frayed nerves, easing the tension that had settled in your muscles. "Do you really think my mother would have let me go out with them?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "She would've lectured for an hour about how she raised me to be a gentleman and how it would make me a jerk if I left you here, anyway."

You both chuckled at the vivid truth in his words, the sound a shared moment of lightness in the midst of your discomfort. You could almost see the scene unfold in your mind's eye: Chan, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as his mother delivered her heartfelt lecture. Despite being a grown adult who had lived in another country for a good half of his life, his mother still held a significant sway over him. It was a testament to the deep respect he had for her, a trait you found profoundly admirable.

The thought of his mother’s gentle scolding brought a small smile to your lips. It spoke volumes about the kind of man Chan was – considerate, respectful, and deeply loyal to those he loved. The room seemed to warm with the shared laughter and the soft murmur of your favorite show playing in the background.

As you lay there, cocooned in the soft blankets and Chan's tender embrace, the guilt began to ebb away, replaced by a serene gratitude. His hand continued its comforting motion on your stomach, each circle a silent promise of his unwavering support. In these quiet moments, you felt the depth of his love, a love that transcended the miles between his family and the life you shared together.

The room, filled with the gentle hum of the television and the soft rustle of your shared laughter, became a haven of peace. In Chan's arms, you found a sanctuary from the world, a place where you could let go of your worries and simply be. The guilt that had once plagued you now seemed distant, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you were cherished beyond measure.

Eventually, you came to terms with the fact that the day would have unfolded just the same regardless of your wishes. Accepting this reality, you cuddled up to Chan's warm body with a contented sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed. The weight of the day seemed to lift as you nestled closer, finding solace in the gentle rise and fall of his breathing.

Chan's fingers moved through your hair absentmindedly, each stroke a tender caress that soothed your frayed nerves. His attention was fixed on the show playing softly in the background, a familiar comfort that you had watched so many times you were sure you could act out every scene if asked. The gentle serenity of his presence was a balm to your senses, distracting you from the dull ache of your cramps, which had already begun to subside with the warmth of his thigh pressed against you.

Your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling yourself closer to him, seeking the comfort and security that his embrace always provided. The world outside faded away, leaving only the cocoon of your shared warmth and the soft hum of the television. Chan's steady heartbeat became a lullaby, each beat guiding you closer to the edge of sleep.

As sleep began to drape over you like a warm blanket, you felt a profound sense of peace. The weight of the day, the guilt, and the discomfort all melted away, replaced by the serene tranquility of being held by the one you loved. The soft whispers of the show, the rhythmic motion of his fingers in your hair, and the warmth of his body all conspired to lull you into a restful slumber.

It wasn't long before you drifted off, enveloped in the safety of Chan's arms. In those final moments of wakefulness, you felt a deep gratitude for his unwavering presence, a silent promise that you were never alone. Sleep claimed you gently, and you surrendered to it with a heart full of love and a body finally at ease, cradled in the sanctuary of his embrace.

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hey! can i request you and ot8 skz kissing in front of the other members?

Hey Anon! Thank you so much for this very sweet request! It was so much fun to write it, and I hope I delivered well! You're more than welcome to make more requests if you wish to 🫶── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

────* ˚ ✦ CAUGHT IN THE ACT (HYUNG LINE | MAKNAE LINE)

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 15.6K

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family (seo changbin x fem!reader)

no warnings, fluff, husband&dad!changbin crumbles

author's note: teeny tiny drabble bc i thought this idea was cute, lmk if you like it !! also, i opened my requests so if you have any ideas you'd want me to write feel more than welcome to send them to me🥸

“c’mon daddy, go!” you heard your daughter whisper from behind the door. you checked the time – it was late, a bit too late for her to be up.

“jieun?” you called her and heard a small oops. then you saw with the corner of your eye your little copy standing in the entrance to your bedroom. 

“can i have a goodnight kiss?” she asked, smiling widely at your reflection in the mirror. you turned to face her with arms spread to hug her and she didn’t waste any second, running into your embrace. you kissed her cheeks and forehead as she giggled. “okay, bye mommy!” she exclaimed, hugging you one more time and running out of the room. you chuckled, turning again to take off your jewellery and brush your hair as you heard your daughter whisper again. “you’ve got this daddy!” she said and then you heard her run to her bed with a sweet giggle, closing the door behind. you wondered what kind of secret was shared between her and changbin as he slowly entered your bedroom with rosy cheeks. he took a few steps closer to you and you met his shy gaze in the mirror.

“what’s going on?” you asked in a curious tone when changbin stood right behind you and grabbed your hairbrush. 

“nothing,” he whispered, reaching to your hair to untangle them. it took you by surprise as changbin was never too keen to do your hair before bed. you looked at his reflection but his eyes were focused on his task, making sure to be as gentle as possible. a pleasant shiver went down your spine and you closed your eyes, relaxing into changbin’s bare chest. 

“god, this feels nice.” 

“yeah?” he asked with a smirk and you let out a faint mhm, but soon he was over, placing your hairbrush down onto your vanity. 

“hey!” you exclaimed jokingly, earning a chuckle from him. 

“stay still, baby. i’m not done.” with these words he ran his fingers through your hair and gently grabbed it to start braiding it. you watched in disbelief as his fingers worked slowly but with an expert manner through your hair. “you have no idea what jieun’s doll went through for me to learn it,” he giggled, not daring to look at you, the blush on his face slowly making its way down onto his neck and chest. 

“wait, is that why you insisted on reading her bedtime stories for the past two weeks?” you inquired as realisation suddenly hit you. changbin didn’t say anything, smirking as he was done with your hair, finishing his work with jieun’s pink hair tie with a little butterfly. 

“done,” he whispered, placing a feather-like kiss on your temple, finally locking his eyes with yours. a familiar warmth spread through your chest as you turned to see the aftermath of changbin’s hard work. i love you, the braid seemed to scream. it was small things like that that made your heart swell and beat faster, even after being with changbin for so long. you couldn't stop thinking about the gesture even in the morning as you glanced in the mirror and saw the butterfly in your hair. and as your daughter woke up, running into your arms first thing in the morning and praising your hairstyle you knew you had everything you could’ve ever wanted in your life – a loving family.

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WIP (Work In Progress) It Good

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SHIBARI WITH SKZ.

ot8 x gender neutral reader.

content warnings: shibari, sex, intense emotional connection, anal fingering (male receiving)

summary: i love shibari with my entire soul and i feel like we as a society don’t talk about it enough — particularly about how emotional it can be if done right.

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🪢 BANG CHAN.

Chan would like tying you up but would mostly enjoy being tied up himself. I feel like when you first proposed the idea to him, he was nervous but decided to try for you anyway and ended up loving it. He’s a guy that is constantly dealing with stress and anxiety, so it’s almost a healing experience to fully let go of control and letting you do whatever you saw fit. It usually ended with you riding him gently, and he’ll be the type to tear up a little after you both cum because the time you’d just spent together was so deeply emotional.

🪢 LEE KNOW.

He himself doesn’t get tied up, but I feel like he would like tying up his partner using the shibari method. I feel like he would enjoy it quite a lot, especially if it leads to some electrifying, intensely emotional sex once the tying part is done. Like he’ll be thrusting into you deeply yet slowly, massaging all the sensitive spots he knows of while doing so. He wants to hear your moans that sound so preciously different from the way it sounds during regular sex — this one comes from the serenity of your mind, it’s everything you feel pushed into the soft sounds he coaxed out of you. Your face, the sounds, the way your body moved in rhythm with his despite the restraints — he’ll cum and keep going until he’s had several orgasms and he can’t anymore, nothing turns him on like being like this does.

🪢 CHANGBIN.

Tie him up. He’ll tie you up every once in a while, but mostly him, especially if done in front of a mirror. I feel like he’d be the kind of guy to enjoy watching himself being tied up with pink rope, and the way you’d leave a trail of kisses everywhere. He adores having sex with you like that, and he’ll cum if you play with his hole just right. He’s so soft, so buff and strong but he’d look so stunning tied up like that, whimpering your name as he grows more and more needy.

🪢 HYUNJIN.

I feel like this might be a genuine kink that he has, but it might be reserved to the lovers he shares the deepest, most intense connections with. Something about the way he describes himself as an emotional guy, his artistic perspective, his gentleness — everything makes me feel like he’d love this as much as I do. His touch would be so tender, and he’d caress your skin with every knot he made, and once you’re all tied up he just pulls you onto his lap while you’re both naked and he just holds you for a moment there. Like it’s not necessarily a sexual thing for him, just the amount of trust it takes to be in that type of mindset while tied up like that. It’s a form of bonding for him. He also likes being the one tied up by his lover, and he’ll be extra clingy and would need all the praise in the world before, during and after.

🪢 HAN.

He would definitely be the one to be tied up, he’s just the kind of guy who adores being at the complete mercy of his partner. It’s the ultimate sign of trust and intense love for him — he trusts you to care for him when in such a vulnerable state, and therefore that shows how much he also loves you. Constant eye-contact is very much needed, he needs to see your face, your expressions, everything. Kissing is more than encouraged as well, just call him a good boy or a pretty baby and he’ll be melting on the spot.

🪢 FELIX.

Something in my gut tells me that he would be the one to briefly bring it up as a kink he’s heard about before and found interesting, but then once you do research and seriously suggest trying it, he would be nervous. Perhaps it’s the level of intimacy, or the fear of doing it wrong — but he would need some time to think on it. Eventually, he’ll agree and it’ll lead to the most mind-blowing sex either of you have ever experienced. His hands are just so soft and gentle as he ties you up, and then when he finally fucks you, it’s all praises and eye-contact and him just fully catering to your every need for as long as you wish.

🪢 SEUNGMIN.

Doing shibari with him would be a bit more rough, I think. He’ll be domming you, but it’s a mixture of stern and soft. The time spent tying you up would be soft and he’d have his twinkling brown eyes on you the whole time while making you laugh a little with his jokes to soothe you. But once he’s inside of you, it’s like an animal takes over and he’s thrusting in and out of you at such an ínstense speed, you have no other option but to scream his name as you cum several times before he does.

🪢 I.N.

The first time you both experiment with shibari, he’s the one getting tied up. He’s not much for physical affection, but something about it made him grave for kisses and squeezes as often as possible. He needed constant reassurance as you worked, he was evidently nervous since it was new to him. It didn’t lead to sex though, because as soon as you wrapped your hand around his cock, he was feeling a little overstimulated but he didn’t want to be untied; he just wanted you close, to feel your skin on his while his mind floated away. Like with Hyunjin, shibari served as a bonding experience for the two of you.

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the fox and the hound

pairing: kim seungmin x afab!reader x yang jeongin

warnings: background poly!ot8 x reader, reader is implied to be younger than jeongin but speaks informally to everyone bc they like it and bc i said so, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cunnilingus, spit kink, biting, mfm threesome, threeway kissing, unprotected sex, pegging, d/s dynamics not specified, seungmin does get plowed by reader though, seungmin and jeongin Nice™️ agenda, spanking, some mxm moments. don’t like don’t read!

a/n: every time i get a commission im like…. no fucking way i got a commission… as always, thank u to the darling who commed this for thinking of me to fulfill your wishes!!!! 🩷 2 more commissioned fics coming soon n then will reopen them for anyone interested :) LOVE U STINKS!

you’d come over earlier under the pretense of a movie night, a marvel movie you’ve all seen too many times to keep track of. it started off innocently enough. jeongin launched himself face first into your lap, and seungmin shouldered himself past minho, laughing all the while, so that he could sit on the side of you that isn’t occupied by jeongin’s long legs. 

seungmin’s head rests contently on your shoulder, fingers plucking at the threading ends of the blanket that covers both of your laps.  

it’s getting too warm. you’d do anything to shuck the blanket off, but the two immovable forces that press you into the couch don’t give you the option. you lightly kick your legs so that air can circulate under the blanket, and jeongin grumbles when the blanket blocks his view of the television. 

jeongin’s never this touchy, which is why all you do is settle your arm over the strawberry blond strands of his hair while he turns around in your lap so that he can wrap his own arm around your waist and bury his face against your stomach. 

hyunjin coos when he notices jeongin snuggling into you. a squawk. ack, so sweet, ayen-ah! he’s sitting beside minho on the opposite couch, always inviting himself into the cuties’ dorm to spend time with the babies and his hyung when he can. of course, you being there is an extra incentive as well. 

your fingers comb gently through jeongin’s hair, and he nuzzles more intently against your stomach. he tugs at the corner of the blanket so it bunches up under his head like a pillow. you hardly pay it any mind, focusing all of your attention again on the movie and scritching at jeongin’s scalp, until he burrows his nose straight into the crotch of your sweatpants. your stomach swoops at the contact, butterflies fluttering, and your fingers tighten in his hair unconsciously. 

he doesn’t stop when you tug on his hair, just breathes in deeply against your clothed core and presses a kiss to the seam of your pants. the gasp you let out is involuntary, and you feel seungmin’s satisfied grin pressing against your shoulder as he looks down at the scene unfolding beside him.

“he must really want a taste,” he breathes into your shoulder, easily covered up by the volume of the movie.

as if spurred on by his hyung’s words, jeongin starts to tug at the band of your sweatpants. you spare a halfhearted glance to hyunjin and minho on the other couch, not wanting to disturb them if they’re really watching the movie like the three of you should be, but you ultimately tilt your hips so jeongin can pull your sweatpants down enough to smush his nose against the crease of your thigh. 

you spread your legs as best you can with the band obstructing your movement, and you have to fight to keep quiet when jeongin’s tongue wriggles against the gusset of your panties. you can barely feel it because of the angle, the pressure just there enough to have you craving his tongue on you bare. he puckers his lips and sucks, pulling the faint taste of your wetness into his mouth from the fabric of your panties.

seungmin reaches down to run his fingers through jeongin’s wavy hair. he scratches at jeongin’s scalp, and you move your arm to rest over his head at the same time, trying your best to hide what’s going on from the rest of the room. you can only do so much when jeongin starts to tug at your panties, finally growing tired of the barrier between the two of you. you lift your hips again, and seungmin helps him pull your underwear and sweatpants to your knees. if minho and hyunjin were to look over, they’d be met with a show. try all you want to hide what’s going on, but you’d have no excuse for your legs being spread wide and jeongin’s head between your thighs.

the angle’s still odd, but jeongin does his best. he uses his fingers to pull up on the mound of your cunt so that he can reach your slit better, and stars burst behind your closed eyelids when his tongue finally touches your delicate little clit. his breath is warm where it hits you, frantic and short puffs of air against your most sensitive parts. he’s excited. excited to taste you, excited to be doing something so naughty right in the living room of his dorm. 

jeongin is enthusiastic in everything he does, and this is no exception. seungmin’s fingers comb through his hair; you can’t tell if the dazed look in jeongin’s eyes is because of your taste or seungmin’s soothing hands. his mouth is deft. he points his tongue in a way that has your back bowing, pressing the point of it against your clit and then pulling away to see the string of spit that connects him to you. over and over and over. 

it’s not long before the combined slick noises of jeongin’s mouth and your soaked pussy rouse the attention of someone a few feet away. 

“hyung, the babies are playing,” hyunjin laughs, bent knee nudging obnoxiously at minho’s thighs to get his attention. jeongin wheezes when he’s finally caught, lips puckering in a kiss against your cunt, and you press him closer to you. safe and sound. his arms wrap around your back. 

“jagi’s pussy is better than thor-hyung, yang jeongin?” minho asks. he cocks his head with a grin. what a bold question from him considering he came buckets in said pussy two nights ago. 

you have a retort on your tongue, but it dies in your mouth when seungmin pushes jeongin further into you by the hair. the only thing leaving your mouth is a squeal as he licks between your folds with a determination only your youngest boyfriend can possess. you reach down to spread yourself for him. 

“good, aegi,” seungmin whispers, and he presses a kiss to the dewy skin of your neck. 

as if summoned by the heightening smells and sounds of sex echoing throughout the dorm, the click of a bedroom door opening draws your attention. felix opens his door and peeks his head out before slyly grinning and making his way to the living area. he’s carrying his phone. 

what a sight the three of you must make. you with your sweatpants and underwear slipping down your shins, jeongin buried in your cunt, and seungmin licking sloppily at your neck. 

“hi, bubby!” felix crows, gremlin voice in full effect as he makes his way to you, socks swishing quickly against the wooden floor. he slips behind the couch and caresses you underneath the chin, guiding your head back so he can lean over and kiss you slowly on the lips. “is jeonginnie doing well?” 

“he eats me so well,” you breathe against felix’s plump, pink lips, and jeongin’s hands tense against your back. 

felix keeps his hand underneath your chin as seungmin peels your pants fully down your legs. now that your lower half is completely bare, he tosses your sweats and underwear at hyunjin and minho on the other couch. 

“that’s not very nice,” you vaguely hear hyunjin say, but when your eyes slide over to him, he’s nosing contentedly at your wet panties. 

with your legs no longer obstructed, you can spread them as wide as you please. jeongin certainly benefits from the added space, and his palms move from your back to the spread of your thighs. he lifts one of them and throws your leg over his shoulder so that it rests over his back. jeongin suckles on your clit, batting that tiny little button with a swift tongue.

“you taste like heaven,” he mumbles into you, a statement you weren’t expecting, but it has your legs twitching regardless. he doesn’t bother to pull his face away from your cunt as he speaks. 

the room erupts into impressed wahhhs and throaty noises of approval, floored over how suave their youngest is. one voice sticks out in particular, however tinny and far away it seems.

“yahhh, iyen-ah! hyung is proud!” seo changbin. felix cackles and turns the volume up on his phone. your 3racha boys must be at the studio working. “that was really smooth. ‘you taste like heaven…’” a joyous giggle and a clap. 

“i’m stealing that,” jisung says right back, serious as a heart attack. 

jeongin pays his hyungs no mind, even the one who still has a hand in his hair. he eats you like he’s starving, sucking noisy kisses up and down the slit of your cunt. you can feel the combination of his spit and your wetness slipping down between your asscheeks. jeongin licks it up dutifully, smiling big and bright against you when it shocks a high pitched whine from your throat. 

“jeongin, o-oh, innie, fuck!” you whimper, and felix soothes under your chin. 

you can’t hold yourself back anymore, not with the attention of your boyfriends on you, even through the speaker of felix’s phone. both of your hands sink into jeongin’s strawberry blonde hair; seungmin moves his out of the way and adjusts himself on the couch, leaning back on the arm of it. at the first harsh roll of your hips, jeongin wheezes. his lips are too sweet, his tongue is too soft. he’s been licking you for so long that you’re bound to cum soon, the bubbling heat in your stomach only strengthened by the frantic rutting of your hips. 

“stick your tongue out, stick your tongue out, lemme…” you beg. jeongin does just that, holding his head still while you hump against his slick tongue. his dazed eyes are half-open, beautiful, deep espresso focused solely on your pleasure-stricken face. 

“you must be doing so well, jeongin-ah,” chan coos over the phone, and jeongin hums in response. the first time he’s spoken up during your tryst and it’s to give praise and reassurance. typical leader, typical chan. 

“of course he’s doing well. you should see our other baby’s fucked out little face,” minho coos. you can only imagine how fucked out you look, eyes wild and tongue half lolling out of your mouth. everything is nearly too much, the attention, jeongin’s delectable mouth. it’s past enough to get you there and further. your legs trap jeongin in place when you cum hard, body locking as your orgasm zings through you like a rocket. your chest bows to the ceiling when your back arches, and felix immediately reaches out a small hand to soothe across your hardened nipples over your t-shirt. 

you shiver when you come down, shakily peeling your wonky legs apart to let jeongin up, but he doesn’t move an inch. he’s content to lay right there, head padded on one of your thighs while he breathes heavily. his cock tents his shorts. 

he cracks a smile though when your fingers smooth through his ruffled and sweaty hair, eyes fluttering open just to crinkle closed again with the force of his sleepy smile.

“you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, and everyone in the room starts to holler once again. 

it’s no surprise that you end up in jeongin’s bed that night. you both get a good night’s rest, of course, only after you sucked him into your mouth, swallowed his cum, and pulled up netflix so you could rewatch jeongin’s favorite marvel scene that you both missed earlier.

it’s no surprise either that seungmin shows up sooner or later, conveniently enough when jeongin slips out of his room to head to the bathroom. 

seungmin crawls onto jeongin’s bed and right into your lap, long legs straddling your waist. 

“hello to you too, seungminnie,” you say, and he bends down to nip at your neck in response. quick little nibbles, soft, insistent, peckish bites that make you scrunch your shoulder to your neck and giggle goofily. “are you corn cobbing me?” 

“meong,” seungmin smiles. just as goofily. you pat him on the back, and he lifts up onto his palms to get a good look at you. 

when jeongin walks back in, your tongue is down seungmin’s throat and your fingers are down the back of his pajama pants. it’s nothing new, not nearly a peculiar sight, but he can hear the slick noises of your kisses from where he’s standing. for how dandy seungmin is to the public eye, he sure does kiss like a dog when he’s horny, messy and wet, tongue out of his mouth while he licks sloppily at yours. jeongin’s cock is chubbing up already.

“really? sneaking into my bed when i’m gone, hyung? that’s dirty.”

seungmin snakes his tongue back into his mouth with a messy slurp. he wipes his chin. “i’m just taking my turn since i didn’t get to last night.”

it’s true; he didn’t. no one did. the second the other members started pulling their pants down to play, jeongin grabbed you and booked it to his room, laughing maniacally and locking the door before anyone could chase you down. 

maknae privileges. 

or maybe they’re just whipped for the two of you.  

it’s getting hot underneath your sweatshirt. you didn’t even remember leaving it here, but jeongin pulled it out of his dresser last night to warm you up when your nipples stayed hard in the chill of his room. it’s a blessing in disguise when seungmin rucks the sweatshirt up to slip his bony hands underneath it. his nails rake gently along the tender skin of your abdomen, and he grins toothily when you shiver. 

“i helped him make you cum last night, you know,” seungmin says, and jeongin guffaws. 

“hyung, that’s a reach. i did that on my own!” 

“yah, i did help,” seungmin challenges back. you distinctly remember seungmin’s hand in jeongin’s hair, keeping him in place and pushing him against you time and time again. kissing and talking lowly into the skin of your sensitive neck. you guess in his own special kim seungmin way, he did help. 

“ah, seungminnie. did we leave you out? my love. daengdaengie, i’m sorry. aren’t we, jeonginnie?” 

jeongin rolls his eyes for so long you swear you’ll never see his pupils again. he presses his lips together and his cheeks crease. he’s trying to hold back a smile, and it finally cracks when he crawls into his bed and expertly dodges seungmin’s kicking foot. 

“yeah, okay. sorry, hyung,” it sounds genuine enough that seungmin doesn’t have a retort. all he does is lean down to kiss you again, tugging your sweatshirt up to your armpits so that your chest is on full display. jeongin props up on his elbow to watch, laying on his side right next to you, eyes honing in on the way seungmin messily licks into your mouth. 

seungmin’s hand smacks against the side of your chest in his haste to grab a handful, pinching your nipple between his long fingers. you throw your head back with a sigh, catching jeongin’s gaze out of the corner of your eye. seungmin’s neat haircut is soft in your hands when you curl your fingers in it. 

“seungminnie,” you sigh, kissing his forehead when he ducks his head to lick at your opposite nipple. 

a choked gasp is shocked from your throat when jeongin’s tongue quickly joins seungmin’s fingers on your other nipple. it’s an overwhelming feeling, two mouths on your chest at once. you wrap your arms around both of their necks to ground yourself. 

“bite- bite them, just a bit. a little bit, please?” you beg. 

you’re lucky the two of them seem to be in a giving mood because they give you what you want without teasing you for wanting it. jeongin’s teeth catch on your nipple before seungmin’s do, and he huffs a laugh through his nose when you whimper. seungmin joins in quickly, playfully growling and scrunching his nose as he bites at your sensitive skin. the pressure is so good, the sting of their front teeth is almost enough to have you pushing their heads away and rubbing your own fingers gently at your tender nipples, but you hold out. 

“you taste like heaven,” seungmin says around your nipple, winking greasily up at you and barely managing to contain his smile while he does it. 

jeongin pulls his mouth from your nipple with a wet pop. “ooh, yah. i wonder where we’ve heard that before.” he swats seungmin on the back of the head, and seungmin does it right back. 

in order to distract them from their impending slap fight, you abruptly sit up and take your sweatshirt all the way off, and your underwear follows next. a new pair, from jeongin’s spare drawer. you can only imagine what hyunjin did with the pair you wore last night. they level each other with one last squinted glance before looking right back at you. 

before you know it, seungmin’s on you again. the only difference this time is that he’s naked. jeongin is too, and he lays beside you again and strokes himself while seungmin kisses you breathless. you’d guessed earlier that this is what seungmin wanted. when your hands slipped down the back of his pajama pants to cop a feel of his ass, his crack was slippery-wet. 

he takes your fingers beautifully, always does. his own fingers are longer than yours, jeongin’s certainly are as well, but seungmin doesn’t complain when you stuff him with three. he can’t complain when his tongue is too busy licking behind your teeth anyway. 

“ahh, yeah. yeah, ‘m ready. come on. get in me, jagi,” seungmin breathes. he sits up on his palms again, and his breath stutters when you lick a stripe up the center of his chest. 

jeongin watches through hooded eyes, but his hand slows down on his cock as seungmin sits up. 

“wait! oh no, wait- i don’t have-?” your strap, how could you miss that? the one thing you really need right now. disappointment unfurls in your chest with the realization you can’t give seungmin what he wants. at least you can watch jeongin fuck him instead, but he squishes your cheeks with his thumb and four fingers and laughs before you really start to spiral. 

“i brought my bag, dummy. you didn’t see?” 

seungmin leans over the edge of the bed and reaches for his bag. you watch jeongin’s eyes follow the arch of his hyung’s back, the curve of his ass, and you know when his eyes stop moving that they’re locked on the slight gape of seungmin’s stretched hole. 

you cock your head at him and raise your eyebrows, pointing your index finger at him like you’re scolding him. jeongin grins and brings his finger to his lips. shhh. 

seungmin procures your handy-dandy harness and his personal favorite light blue dildo from his bag, sitting up straight with it and jiggling it in the air like a lunatic so that it flops all over the place. 

“don’t wiggle my dick like that, you freak,” you say, making grabby hands at your strap. 

with both of their help, you’re strapped up in no time. light blue cock protruding proudly from your groin like it’s meant to be there. you jerk it in your hands, bending your knee and propping your foot up on the bed so you can thrust against the tight, lubed up circle of your fist. you put on a show for them. a bite to your bottom lip, a breathy moan. your nipples tighten as if you’re subconsciously really feeling the grip you have on your strap. 

you’re up on your knees and pressed to jeongin’s chest before you even register that you’re being pulled up. he kisses you hard, tongue slipping into your mouth and tangling with yours. an elegant hand reaches down to continue spreading the lube around your silicone cock. seungmin’s hand rubs at the dip of your back before he joins the kiss himself. it’s messy, always is like this with any of your boys. your lips barely press together, a quick slide, tongues meeting sloppily outside of your mouths before jeongin pulls away to kiss down your neck. 

jeongin’s bed is so soft that it’s almost hard to move. the three of you clumsily position yourselves how you want. seungmin flat on his stomach, you straddling the backs of his thighs, and jeongin kneeling behind you. 

you watch yourself slide into seungmin’s body, his hole soft and pliant, slick with lube. you pause when the head pops in, and you pull it right back out. pushing in again, pulling out. 

“fuck me already, please, just- aiiish. don’t do this to me,” seungmin complains, reaching his arms behind his back to try and pull you in by the hips. 

“sorry, seungminnie. your hole’s just too cute.” and it is! cute and a little hairy, hungry and clenching for your cock. 

sliding all the way inside is easy this time, and seungmin buries his face in the pillow to muffle his cry. you shift your hips minutely so that your position on his thighs is more comfortable. it’s sweet, the way seungmin finally melts into the mattress when you press your palms flat against his back. 

with your ass sticking out the way it is, jeongin slips inside of you just as easily. he always makes the cutest noises when he sheaths himself inside your cunt, a gasped inhale, a shuddery wheeze. 

“oh, god, you’re warm,” he whispers. “it’s- ah, you feel too good. d’you know how soft you are here?” 

you wiggle your ass, and both of your boys moan. you do have a soft pussy, pretty and soft and perfect. you can say that with confidence because each of your eight make you wholeheartedly believe it.

from your spot in the middle, you’re able to rut yourself back and forth, fucking seungmin on your cock and fucking yourself on jeongin’s. a hesitant swat to one of your asscheeks has you speeding up. 

“oh! innie, innie, again. you can do it again,” you cry. you beg, and jeongin smacks your ass once more. it’s not nearly as harsh as a spank from minho, not even as harsh as a spank from chan when you goad him into it, but it’s good because it’s jeongin. he thrusts against you, nearly bouncing you back and forth between him and seungmin. the momentum from your combined thrusts has seungmin moving just as much, leaky cock rutting against the rumpled sheets underneath him as his drool smears on jeongin’s pillow. 

“it’s so good, it feels so good,” seungmin slurs. you yank his head back by his hair. “oh my god, yeah. ohmygod, it’s so good.” 

“it’s so good, meongmeongie?”

you don’t know how you even have the wherewithal to speak. jeongin’s cock feels perfect, he fucks you so well, and in turn, it helps you fuck seungmin well too. the bed creaks with your combined weight and the frantic movement from all three of you. if anyone else is in the dorm, there’s no doubt what’s going on in jeongin’s room. 

seungmin cums first, you’re not surprised. you duck your head to watch the way his tight hole milks your cock, and you lick your thumb, bringing it to his rim to touch it while it clenches. it never takes him long to cum when he has his prostate stimulated, and with his cock rutting against the mattress, he’s a goner. 

you slow to a stop to not overstimulate him, pressing all the way inside until he’s batting at your hips. 

jeongin pulls you back by your shoulders. your strap slips from seungmin’s hole with a slick little noise, and jeongin pulls you until your back is against his chest. 

“i want you to cum,” jeongin grunts. his bony hips slap relentlessly against your ass. “i want you to cum so badly, aegi.” 

seungmin dazedly reaches behind himself and searches for you, patting with his hand until he finds your slick, lube covered, light blue cock. he hasn’t even turned over onto his back, his cheek is smushed against the pillow, yet he wraps his long fingers around your strap regardless. it’s such a sight, he struggles with the motion because of the angle, but even that is oddly sexy. 

“god, i can’t- yeah, ‘m gonna cum, just-” while seungmin jerks your strap, you frantically slip your fingers between your thighs to rub at your swollen clit as jeongin fucks you. you’re sticky wet, nearly dripping down your thighs at this point. 

jeongin keeps his rhythm as steady as he can. the feeling of his cock spearing you open paired with the visual of seungmin sleepily stroking your strap is enough to push you right over the edge. 

“i’m-! cumming, cumming, in-innie, seungminnie, you’re making me cum,” you wail, and jeongin kisses down your spine. 

the clenching of your cunt drags jeongin down with you, and the grunt he gives you is half muted by his bitten lip. he always stops breathing when he cums, going stock-still behind you before he heaves in a deep breath. 

jeongin’s bed isn’t big enough for three people, but that’s never stopped you before, and it won’t stop you now. 

you’re in the middle of them, right where you belong. you’ll all get up in a minute, jeongin will need to strip his bed, someone will need to clean you up and out - you’ll be damned before you do it yourself, and you’ll all need to shower. but it can wait. 

“your O face is stupid,” seungmin grumbles, fingers reaching to entwine with jeongin’s where they rest over your stomach. you snort but rub at their arms regardless. they’re always like this. 

“sure, hyung. and my pillow’s soaked with your drool.”