Stray Kids Lee Minho - Blog Posts

Curious little thing, aren't you?

SKZ: DanceRacha

Vocalracha - 3RACHA

Summary: Their unique abilities and how they affect people around them.

Lee Know: Phobokinesis

Lee Know was always stoic. He had a talent of instilling fear into others before he gained this ability, but once he did, he regretted it immediately.

He didn't realize he could do such a thing, but when Seungmin pushed him too far yet again, his threat rang true.

"Drown in a sea of spiders, pup,"

Those few words made Seungmin crumble within seconds.

Lee know didn't know why until his own fear caught up with him, dropping the illusion he created for Seungmin.

"What the fuck?"

Seungmin described it as a feeling of suffocating, his skin tingling, almost as if he had a giant centipede on him.

It was then that they all knew what Lee Know could do.

He didn't mean to do it, hell he didn't even know he could.

Since that moment, not only could he induce fear, but he could sense it.

Han was scared 95% of the time, making him stick to his side like glue.

Chan often had fear for all of the members, making Lee Know feel responsible for making him better.

Relieving him of his stress.

Hyunjin: Heart Seamstress

Hyunjin always looked like the romance icon. Even the members swoon for him.

But he didn't feel complete. He felt lost, especially with the hate that came with their new comeback.

He felt his best, yet was ridiculed left and right.

He tried again, only to be criticized and put down.

Why? He was trying his best? What was he doing wrong?

It eventually made him spiral, not wanting to eat or participate in practice. He dressed casually and refused to wear makeup.

STAY didn't know anything was happening since they were currently on break. He didn't even update his bubble, he felt so weak.

He slowly but surely felt his heart breaking, unable to breathe most days from the pain.

One day, Chan took him shopping, claiming he needed air to feel better.

He roamed as Chan gathered what he needed, finding himself in the art section like always.

He wasn't searching for anything, but felt a tug to the yarn and fabric section. A red string caught his eyes, and he reached for it quickly.

It felt light but looked heavy, and the thread wasn't too frilly, leaving each section smooth and soft to the touch.

He swayed it in his hands. Why did he feel the need to purchase it?

He scoffed at himself, pulling out his wallet.

Why not?

When he got home, he layed back down, clutching the yarn to his chest.

He unravelled the bundle, coming up with an idea. He knew it was stupid, but if it made him feel better then why not?

He wrapped it around himself, laying in a fetal position.

In his mind, the string would be able to bring his heart back together. Perhaps sew it back to it's full state.

He fell asleep to the thought, unaware that his body was literally reenacting his thought, sewing his heart back together piece by piece.

Felix: Starlight freckles

Felix was known for his freckles, whether it was the people that disliked them, or the people that adored them.

Felix was torn between the two, due to societies preference and the members opinions, but he always had a soft spot for the topic.

He had noticed his face itching for a while and chalked it up to changing his face wash, but eventually, it became unbearable.

He itched at his soft skin for minutes, minutes turning into hours.

He felt bumps on his skin, and as he pushed his nail against the frail flesh, he felt one burst.

He panicked, rushing to the mirror.

He was alone in his hotel room, so he wasn't entirely worried on someone seeing him.

When he reached the glass, his reflection held something he didn't expect.

This freckle that was once there was now a shimmering gold color.

A star.

Before he could think any further, he scratched more aggressively at his face, more gold specks shimmering through the torn skin, a red hue engulfing his head at the onslaught.

He eventually peeled the last bit of freckled skin, a constellation brewing.

He sighed, feeling nothing but satisfied with the itching now gone, but also to a new person he didn't realize his body was hiding.

The haters lied. This is who he is, not what they think.

Notes:

glad to finally start with this series. Its been on my mind for months! Hope you all enjoy, and if you have any ideas on the connecting parts, lmk!!

Warning:

Language, smut mentioned, fluff

You sighed as you walked to your local GameStop. It had just been too long since you've had a real connection, and you were desperate for anything.

Your friend who worked there had told you that they had a game donated that resembled a dating simulator, and that she set it aside for you. She did it mostly to tease you, but honestly, you really needed this.

You didn't know if it was truly a dating game or not, but you couldn't care less at the moment.

You came in, grabbed it, and paid.

You rushed home after stopping for lunch, starting your PC. You let it warm up while you showered and changed into your lounge clothes, rubbing your temples at the bright light in the dark room.

Your computer ate the disc, accepting it just as well as you did. The loading screen appeared, and you watched the sphere spin.

It seemed to last hours before you finally heard a ping.

It's done loading!

You quickly clicked the icon, watching the screen fall black before switching to a pale blue.

As it drifted to the logo,you noticed how it looked extremely pixelated but in a 90's Mario game way.

The title read, 'Stray Kids: Together'

Some clouds jumped in the background, the Play and Settings buttons appearing after a few seconds.

You admired the pastel aesthetic before moving your cursor to click on Play.

Gently clicking on your mouse, it sent you to yet another clouded screen with a small sunset.

Logs set 1

>Bangchan Last opened ?

>Lee Know Last opened ?

>Changbin Last opened ?

>Hyunjin Last opened ?

What type of names are these? You thought.

You noticed that each one didn't have a date log, so you were unsure if they were even opened yet.

Curious, you clicked the first name.

Then, your computer crashed.

You scoffed, cursing the damn old seeming cartridge. The pixels in the opening screen made it seem like it was made in the 90's, but the labeling date was scratched off so you didn't really know.

You were about to shut off your computer before the screen boosted, a light gray flickering against the screen.

You weren't sure what was happening before you saw the command,

Allow microphone access?

> Yes No

You clicked yes.

Allow camera access?

> Yes No

You clicked yes again, and that was when you heard a click, and then the spinning of a disc.

"Hello?"

You heard a voice from nowhere. You bristled, turning around to look in your room. Was someone here?

"Over here,"

Your head whipped back to the screen, only to be met with the most prettiest guy you had ever seen.

"Woah," you mumbled.

He grinned.

"What's your name?" He asked again. Did he have an accent?

"Y/n. You're...Bangchan?" You ask, pulling your chair closer to the desk.

"Your a quick learner,"

You blinked. What now?

"So...are you like an AI? Or, like, how are you speaking to me?" You question, resting your arm on your hand.

His eyes widen. "Uhh, I'm not actually sure. Honestly, I feel real, but I'm not? I don't know if that helps?" He cleared his throat. "But what I do know is that you need someone. You wouldn't be here otherwise,"

"How would you know that?" You jolt. He was spot on.

"I know what I was created for. We all do,"

Wait what?

"Who's we?"

He smiled, his eyes turning into crescents. So beautiful

"You saw the other names, right? There are more of us...more of me," He explained slowly. "Here I was thinking you were a quick learner,"

"Hey!" You both laughed at his comment, then you sighed.

"So, are you all the same? Just look different? What's the deal?"

He spinned, the back of his neck revealing a code. CB97

"No, we are all incredibly different. We couldn't be the same even if we wanted. Different code. I'm the first, so they consider me like...a big brother? We all serve different purposes for whatever you need," he scratched his head, and his hair moved so smoothly.

It was then that you realized that the screen was no longer pixelated like the opening screen, it was now hd, smooth. You could almost see his pores.

"Different purposes? What the hell does that mean, Chan?" You let it slide past, not realizing.

"Chan?" His eyes glistened. "I like it," he grinned, watching your face heat up.

"Purposes Chan," you remind quietly, twirling a piece of your hair.

"Right. Well me, I'm a comforter. I help you when your stressed. Lee know? He's kinda...sexual? He can help with those needs, but he can comfort too. Uhh Changbin, he's more of an amuser. Hyunjin, a relaxer and comforter. Han? He can do literally everything. He's the ace of the group. Felix, comfort. Seungmin? Amuser and sexual. Jeongin, all. You know?"

It was a lot to take In. You didn't even know what half of this meant. At least not yet.

"So if I were horny-" he cut you off.

"Han, Lee Know, Seungmin or Jeongin are your guys." He said, his eyes staring into your own.

You felt yourself flush.

"Are they all as pretty as you?" You whisper, making his face freeze.

"Uh, they are, if not prettier, y/n," he gently smiles, placing his hand flat against the screen.

"You couldn't help me?" You brought your own palm to rest against his, only to be met with a cold surface.

"I wasn't given that programming. If you need help, just log out and meet with one of the others," he explained, his eyes tracing your hand, almost as if to memorize it.

"Oh," was all you could say. "I'm okay, for now," you say with a cheeky smile, making him chuckle.

"Good to hear. You tired yet? It's dark," he asked, making you blink. You turned to look out your window.

Holy shit, it's dark!

"Oh my god i work tomorrow!" You curse yourself, jumping up from your chair.

You heard Chan laughing in the background.

"Can I jump on tomorrow?" You asked him after cleaning up a bit.

"You don't need to ask, y/n. We're yours!" He gleemed, his eyes shimmering in the light.

"Mine..." You repeat. You never really thought if it that way.

"Yes, y/n. Completely and utterly yours. I'm sure the rest will fall for you just as I did," he said.

You looked at him.

"How does a computer fall for me?" You were baffled at this point. What did he mean?

"This computer was coded with feelings," he grinned. "Goodnight, y/n!"

You didn't get to respond before he disappeared.

You were kicked to the opening screen, the pixelated clouds taunted you as they jumped up and down.

You absolutely felt so lucky to have found this game.

Connection found. Now you just need to pursue all eight men.

Tag list: @estella-novella @deadpool15

Digital Boyfriend Series Masterlist

Synopsis:

You were desperate for a connection. All the dates you had before just weren't working, so you went to a local GameStop. You found an old cartridge loosely depicting a dating sim. You took it home, and found eight save files. You look through each one. Banner by @cafekitsune

Warnings:

Fluff, suggestive, smut, language, mentions of death, angst, etc

>Bangchan

>Felix

xxx?

xxx?

xxx?

xxx?

xxx?

Tag list: @estella-novella @deadpool15 @matchacha65 @foreverdebbie @bookishcaptain @boi-bi-ahaha @chansbbgnumberone @whoreforeverythingspice

I'm glad to be included 🤎

1. Heyday by SKZ

2. Desire by Meg Myers

3. Heartbeat by 2pm

4. Darkness at the Heart of my Love by GHOST

5. Runway walk by demrick

Tags: @faunandfloraas @puppyplayhouse @bbokicidal @leenooooooo @writingforstraykids

rules :: when you get this, list 5 songs you’ve been listening to & tag people!

one take me home, ateez

two burning desire, lana del ray

three woke up, xg

four andromeda, gorillaz

five mmmh, kai

tags: @mingtinysworld | @hwakakeri | @songmingisthighs | @xuchiya // tagged whoever came to mind first sorry idk many people here .. 🫠 (not compulsory ofc ^^)

🤭 I’m so, so glad that you liked it so much! Oh, it was so fun to write 😫 like this is my ult bias and shibari? Forget it, I was a complete goner before I even started 😮‍💨

Baby this is the love you deserve! To me, there’s no such thing as feeling too deeply, I feel like those who are able to have such a beautiful gift that humanity has been gradually forgetting. That said, I understand what you mean — I also have the tendency to grow attached too easily and I also struggle with deciphering the depths of my own emotions. But you’ll find someone who’ll feel for you just as fiercely as you will for them, and when you do, it’ll be beautiful. Maybe one day you can share this type of bonding experience with them, because shibari is all about the emotional connection and trust in its purest form. It’s not silly or weird at all to crave these things, Merin, it’s good. I’m happy this piece made you feel seen and validated 🫶 Thank you so much for all the compliments 🥹💕

────* ˚ ✦ BONDS OF PASSION ( stray kids )

❛ In a night of profound emotional connection and intimacy, you and Minho explore your bond through the intricate art of shibari, culminating in a tender embrace that deepens your love and gratitude.

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.2k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 28 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ I'm always saying this, but I really love shibari; it's quite literally one of my favorite kinks. So, thank you to my wonderful mootie, Merin, for making the request! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MNDI, this is Y/N's first time participating in shibari, Minho has experience in shibari, intensely emotional sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving), penetration, unprotected sex (please don't do this), let me know if I missed anything!

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

The world outside seemed to fade away as if his bedroom had slipped into a realm of its own, where time slowed and the only reality was the two of you, kneeling on the floor. Every breath shared in the confined space felt amplified, the air thick with anticipation. The weight of your bare bodies pressed against the cool wooden floor, facing each other in a vulnerable dance of gazes that held unspoken promises. His eyes, deep pools of dark intensity, locked onto yours with a fervor you had never witnessed before. Minho's gaze bore into you, filled with a passion so palpable it sent shivers down your spine, yet there was something more—a quiet confidence, an ease born of experience, that radiated from him like a quiet storm. It was a look that only someone who had navigated these waters before could possess.

In contrast, you could feel the uncertainty swirling within your own eyes, a reflection of the storm raging inside you. You imagined how pale your face must appear under the soft light, as your heart pounded relentlessly against your chest, each beat echoing in the stillness of the room. The silence between you both was almost deafening, broken only by the rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths. You were acutely aware that this was uncharted territory for you, a space where Minho had already traveled with ease. 

This would be the first time you would surrender so completely, relinquishing not just the control of your body but also the reins of your heart and soul. The thought of it made your pulse race even faster, a flutter of nerves and excitement tangling within you. The rope you had both chosen together, a symbol of trust and shared desire, lay between you on the floor, a silent witness to the intimacy about to unfold. As you knelt before him, you knew that tonight, you would willingly empty your mind, allowing Minho to guide you into a world where he alone dictated the pace, where his touch would define your every movement and sensation. And as the rope waited patiently, you found yourself ready to embark on this journey with him, prepared to lose yourself in the intensity of the moment.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly before Minho’s lips finally curled into a gentle, reassuring smile, a subtle yet powerful gesture that sent a cascade of tingles racing across your skin. The moment felt suspended in a delicate balance between anticipation and reality, where the space between you two was charged with an unspoken understanding. The warmth of his gaze enveloped you, pulling you into the depths of his emotions, where you could glimpse the full spectrum of his intentions, his unyielding desire, and the raw intensity of his feelings. In that gaze, you found solace, a calming balm to the storm of thoughts that had been churning within you.

The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you cocooned in this intimate bubble. Minho’s eyes spoke volumes, revealing the depth of his commitment to you, and in that moment, all remnants of doubt and anxiety began to dissipate. The air around you, thick with silent anticipation, was finally pierced by the soft melody of his voice, tender and careful as if coaxing your soul to dance with his. “Do you remember our safe word?” he asked, the question a gentle reminder of the trust that formed the foundation of what was about to unfold.

His eyes left yours momentarily, tracing the contours of your expression as if seeking any lingering traces of hesitation. You met his gaze with a timid nod, the ghost of a smile beginning to tug at your lips. “Mercy,” you whispered, the word carrying with it a promise of trust, a signal that you were still willing to journey into this new, uncharted territory with him. 

Minho’s smile widened, a reflection of the satisfaction and joy that your willingness brought him. It was a smile that held a thousand promises, a smile that reassured you of the care he would take as he led you further into this passionate exploration. In that smile, you saw not just a lover, but a guide, someone who would hold you through the most intense moments and bring you safely to the other side. And as you both prepared to step into this new chapter together, the connection between you deepened, wrapped in the shared understanding that, no matter what, you were in this together.

Minho rose to his feet, and your eyes couldn’t help but follow the fluid motion of his form, tracing the contours of his body as he moved with a quiet, unspoken elegance. Every inch of him was a masterpiece, a living testament to the beauty that lies in the harmony of strength and grace. As he made his way behind you, you allowed yourself to drink in the sight of him, this man who stood before you like a vision of divine perfection. His naked form, something you had always admired, seemed almost otherworldly in its beauty, a reflection of the statues of ancient gods that once graced the grand temples of old.

Minho’s physique was a study in contrasts, lean yet muscular, with each muscle defined in a way that spoke of both power and restraint. His body was a work of art, chiseled with the same care and precision that an ancient sculptor might have applied to marble, capturing the very essence of masculine beauty. Every movement he made was deliberate, infused with a quiet confidence that spoke of his inner strength. There was a grace in the way he carried himself, an elegance that made your knees tremble with admiration, as if you were in the presence of a god who needed no words to command the space around him.

The sharp lines of his jaw were a testament to the precision with which nature had crafted him, a strong and unwavering feature that brought to mind the angular perfection of the statues that had survived the ages. It was a defining trait, one that spoke of the strength and resolve that lay beneath the surface, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it seemed to fit him, as if he had been carved by the hands of an ancient artisan intent on embodying the ideal of masculine beauty.

And then there were his hands, the part of him you cherished most. Those hands, both graceful and strong, were like those of a Greek statue, crafted with a care that reflected both power and delicacy. Whether they were guiding him through the fluid movements of a dance or exploring every inch of your body with a precision that drove you to the edge of insanity, his hands conveyed an artistry that was unparalleled. They spoke of his physical prowess, of his ability to channel his strength into the most delicate of touches, and in those moments, you could feel the depth of his connection to you, as if his very soul was intertwined with yours.

Lee Minho, the man who held your heart in his hands, was a raw beauty to behold, a living embodiment of the divine made flesh. His presence, his very essence, was something that captivated you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame, and as you gazed upon him, you couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of awe at the man who stood before you, a man whose soul you firmly believed was tied to yours in a bond that was as unbreakable as it was beautiful.

Your bare skin ignited with a fiery sensation the very moment Minho's warm, naked torso pressed firmly against your back. His presence was a comforting weight, his legs resting on either side of your crossed limbs, encasing you in a protective embrace. You could feel his breath, warm and gentle, fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers racing down your spine. As he reached around you, his hands moved with a deliberate tenderness, uncrossing your legs with a fluid grace that left you breathless. The moment his strong legs pinned yours beneath him, you felt an exhilarating surge of vulnerability and trust. His touch was a soothing balm, and as your skin prickled with tiny bumps in response, you surrendered yourself to his guidance, allowing him to mold your body however he wished.

A featherlight kiss brushed the nape of your neck, his plump lips barely grazing your skin, yet the sensation was enough to draw a muted gasp from your parted lips. Minho gently pulled you back, easing you into his embrace until your full weight rested against him, your back flush with his chest. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and you found yourself biting back a moan as his warmth seeped into your very being. 

Minho had only just begun to touch you, yet already the worries that had once plagued your mind — whether large or small, old or new — began to dissolve, fading into the background as your thoughts grew quieter. With each passing second, you felt your mind and body gradually submit to the serene headspace Minho had so patiently explained to you before. He had been right; there truly was nothing that compared to the bliss of surrendering every burden, every lingering doubt, to the gentle pleasure that was slowly consuming your senses. 

Time seemed to blur as he held you close, his strong arms wrapped securely around your chest, anchoring you in the moment. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his breathing became your world, a lullaby that lulled you deeper into tranquility. You reached up, fingers trembling slightly as you interlaced them with his, feeling the warmth and strength in his grasp. In his embrace, you found a sanctuary, a place where you could lose yourself completely, letting go of everything except the profound connection you shared with him. 

It took a moment for you to realize that Minho had begun gently rocking your bodies from side to side, his embrace warm and secure, as though he was cradling your very soul. His breath, warm against your ear, sent waves of desire coursing through you, a passion so intense it bordered on painful. His voice, soft and tender, murmured words that sent shivers down your spine. "Your pretty head is already so empty, baby," he whispered, each word laced with adoration. "You're doing so good for me already." As his lips trailed tender kisses along every inch of your exposed skin, you instinctively squeezed his fingers, your silent way of letting him know you were still present, still with him. 

Minho’s fingers tightened around yours in response, a comforting reassurance that melted any lingering doubts. "I can't thank you enough for trusting me like this," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine reverence. "It’s such an honor to share this moment with you." The delicacy of his words sent a soft whine escaping from your lips, quickly turning into a moan that echoed the vulnerability you felt in his presence. With a final, lingering kiss pressed onto your shoulder, Minho slowly unwrapped his arms from around your torso, his touch lingering like the ghost of a warm embrace. 

He shifted his position with a graceful ease, one knee sinking to the floor while the other foot remained firmly planted, his body hovering over yours like a guardian angel. His eyes, filled with a quiet intensity, never left yours as he reached for the rope that had been momentarily forgotten between you. With practiced care, he began working the rope free from its tight spiral, each loop unfurling in a fluid motion until it lay in a long, taut line behind you. 

With a few measured tugs, Minho folded the length in half, aligning the two ends with meticulous precision before letting the rope rest lazily over one of your shoulders. The looped end of the rope was held between his teeth, a playful glint in his eyes as he let the rough texture brush against your overly sensitive skin. The sensation sent your breath hitching, your heartbeat quickening in anticipation of what was to come. Every fiber of your being was attuned to him, to the way his touch promised both restraint and release, as you surrender yourself completely to the moment, to Minho.

Once the rope was positioned just right, Minho wasted no time in pressing his firm chest against your back once more. The warmth of his skin sent a comforting shiver through you, and as his body began to sway, it felt as though you were both caught in an entrancing dance. Slowly, he guided you into a series of circular motions, the gentle rhythm lulling you deeper into a shared trance. The way he moved with you was like a carefully choreographed ballet, each step measured and intentional, designed to draw out the pleasure simmering just beneath the surface.

As Minho pinned your arms beneath his own, a surge of instinct had you clutching the back of his thighs, seeking an anchor in the storm of sensations that were building between you. The heat of the moment intensified, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that washed over you with each of Minho’s expert touches. His hands, strong yet tender, guided your movements, and the synergy between your bodies grew with every slow, deliberate motion. The connection was so deep, so visceral, that you lost track of time, completely immersed in the dance of your shared intimacy.

At some point, you became aware that your legs had returned to their original x-patterned position. The realization came just as Minho’s hands, heavy with intent yet comforting in their touch, pressed against your feet. He let them linger there for a moment before slowly, sensually, dragging them up the length of your legs. His fingers caressed your inner thighs, ghosting over your aching arousal, teasing you with the promise of more. Finally, his hands found their home on your waist, and the sensation was so overwhelming that a guttural moan escaped your lips, raw and unbidden. 

Your head fell back against Minho’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering open for a brief second. Through the haze of desire, you caught sight of his gaze — an all-consuming love that pierced through the fog of your mind, grounding you in the moment. The way his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that spoke of both passion and devotion, sent a shiver down your spine. You reached out with a trembling hand to squeeze his bicep, offering a blissed-out grin in return, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection you shared. Then, with a soft sigh, you let your eyes drift closed once more, allowing yourself to sink back into the warmth of his embrace, the intimacy of this moment enveloping you completely.

A few moments passed in this heavenly embrace, each second stretching into eternity as you basked in the warmth of Minho’s touch. The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you entwined in this intimate dance. But then, the gentle hold on your waist faded, replaced by the firm yet careful grip of Minho's hands as they moved to capture your wrists. With a tender precision, he brought them together in front of your body, the motion so fluid it felt almost like an extension of the dance you were sharing.

He held your wrists together with one hand, a possessive yet loving grasp that sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins. His free hand trailed up the length of your arm, a ghostly touch that left your skin tingling in its wake, before finding its place in your hair. His fingers wove through the strands, gripping just firmly enough to draw a moan from your lips. It wasn't painful — far from it — but the pressure was just enough to remind you of the power he held, the control he wielded over your body and senses.

The rhythmic, circular motions he had so carefully orchestrated came to an abrupt stop, leaving you breathless with anticipation. Then, with a controlled force, Minho pushed both of your bodies forward, guiding you down until your chest and stomach were pressed firmly against the ground. Your knees spread to the sides, a position that left you utterly vulnerable and exposed, and the raw, guttural moan that tore from your throat was a testament to the overwhelming arousal that flooded your senses.

As your mind struggled to catch up with this new, intoxicating position, Minho's warm body followed yours, his presence a constant, grounding force. The sensation of his naked flesh draping over your folded form sent shivers of pleasure coursing down your spine, each touch amplifying the closeness you shared. The weight of him pressed against your overly sensitive skin was both a comfort and a thrill, intensifying the already electric connection between you. It was as though every inch of your body was attuned to his, every nerve ending alive with the sensation of Minho, his touch, his breath, his very essence surrounding you, holding you captive in this moment of pure, unbridled intimacy.

Despite the rope held between his teeth, Minho managed to press a tender kiss onto your flushed cheek, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. As his lips lingered, you felt the first tentative grind of his hardened arousal against your lower back, the intimate friction igniting a new wave of sensation that rippled through your body. The slow, deliberate movement caused both of you to rock back and forth in a rhythm that was as mesmerizing as it was intoxicating, a silent dance that spoke of unspoken desires and deepening connection.

Your mouth fell open in a wordless gasp, your senses immediately drowning in the overwhelming pleasure that blossomed from this newfound contact. Each subtle shift of his hips against you sent shockwaves of arousal spiraling through your core, leaving you painfully wet and clenching around the emptiness inside, desperate for more. The need within you grew with every passing second, a relentless ache that only intensified as your body responded to his touch with soft whines and gasps, spilling from your lips without restraint.

Your eyelids crinkled in pleasure, brows knitting together as your mind struggled to keep up with the storm of sensations crashing over you. But any semblance of control was quickly lost as you felt Minho's hardened length begin to leak onto your lower back, the warmth of his arousal mingling with your own fevered skin. The combination was electrifying, a heady mix of intimacy and desire that left you trembling. 

Minho’s breathing grew strained, the steady rhythm faltering as he momentarily lost himself in his own pleasure, the sound of it like a raw, primal symphony that echoed in your ears. The very air between you crackled with the intensity of the moment, each breath, each touch, each whisper of fabric against skin drawing you deeper into the vortex of sensation that consumed you both. And as the two of you rocked together, moving in perfect unison, it felt as though nothing else existed beyond the boundaries of this shared moment, this exquisite blend of passion and connection.

However, the fleeting pleasure of Minho's grinding against your lower back was soon replaced by a new sensation as he shifted positions once again. His movements were deliberate, yet unhurried, as he slowly pulled away, the grinding coming to a hesitant halt. The rope that had been held between his teeth now trailed gently across the expanse of your back, leaving a tingling path in its wake. The sensation was enough to elicit a soft moan from your lips, a sound that only deepened when Minho's fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you back into the solid warmth of his chest. His grip was firm yet tender, sending ripples of electricity across your skin, each pulse intensifying the connection between you.

The way your body instinctively melted into each of Minho's silent commands was intoxicating, a surrender that felt both empowering and liberating. In his hands, you felt safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by the depth of your shared intimacy. There was no need to worry or overthink, as your soul-tied lover had taken control of every aspect of your pleasure, guiding you with a deftness that only heightened your arousal with every passing second. The trust between you was palpable, a silent understanding that allowed you to let go completely, to revel in the sensations that Minho was expertly crafting.

Your awareness of his actions dimmed as you lost yourself in the familiar rhythm of your bodies moving in perfect unison. The steady rocking was a dance of pure sensation, each movement a testament to the deep connection you shared. It wasn't long before you felt Minho's hand release its hold on your hair, and your dazed eyes fluttered open, curiosity piqued by the change in his touch. His free hand joined the other, which had been holding both of your wrists, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as the rope glided smoothly over your skin, its texture a reminder of the gentle power Minho wielded over you.

With slow, deliberate movements, Minho began to wrap the rope around your wrists, his expert hands tying the first knot with a precision that was both arousing and reassuring. The pressure of the rope was firm, enough to make you feel bound, yet not tight enough to cause discomfort. It was a tender introduction, a prelude to what was to come, and the anticipation of it sent a thrill through your body. The way Minho's hands moved with such care and intention made it clear that this was only the beginning, and the thought of what lay ahead left you breathless, your heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of your shared desire.

Your breath catches as Minho's teeth graze your earlobe, a playful nip that sends a shiver down your spine. He'd just secured the first knot around your wrists, tugging lightly to ensure it held firm. The binding was precise, a testament to his careful attention. "How are we feeling, my love?" he murmured, his voice softer than a whisper, as though the very air around you would break if he spoke too loudly. Even through the fog of your bliss, you managed a silent nod, your senses dulled yet heightened by the intimacy of the moment. Minho's quiet chuckle warmed your heart, its gentle timbre resonating deep within you.

Releasing his grip on your wrists, Minho didn't pause in the rhythmic sway of your bodies. His hands moved with purpose, trailing up and down your arms in a tender effort to ground you in the here and now. The sensation was electric, a soothing contrast to the growing intensity between you. "Use your words for me," he coaxed, his tone a mix of gentle insistence and deep affection. "I need to know you're here with me." The sheer tenderness in his voice drew a whimper from your lips, the weight of your love for him pressing heavily on your chest.

As his chin came to rest softly on your shoulder, you tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze. His expression was one of pure serenity, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you. The sight of him, so calm and full of love, made your heart swell, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of crimson. With a small, almost shy smile, you whispered, "I'm here. I'm with you." The words were meant for him alone, a quiet reassurance that you were still present, still grounded in this moment with him.

Minho's smile widened at your response, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was brief. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, any hint that you were anything less than utterly content. But all he found was the evidence of your mind blissfully clouded, your expression soft and open. You managed another nod, followed by a whispered "yes," the word barely more than a breath. He hummed in satisfaction, pressing a kiss to your temple before his hand moved to rest against your throat.

The shift in his touch brought a new intensity to the moment, his wrist firm against your throat as he quickened the pace of your shared rhythm. The atmosphere in the room thickened, the air heavy with the weight of your connection. "My love," he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, sending another shiver through you. "From this point forward, I will be picking up the pace. Just keep in mind that I adore you completely, so if you need me to stop, all you have to do is use the safe word, and I will do as asked. Please nod your head if you understand this, baby. I need you to stay here with me."

The gentle pleading in his voice tugged at your heart, and you felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. His concern, his care, it all spoke to the depth of his feelings for you. With a soft yet firm resolve, you met his gaze, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that mirrored his own. Slowly, you nodded, the movement small but full of assurance.

Minho's eyes softened further, the relief evident as he leaned in to capture your lips once more in a kiss that was both tender and full of promise. This moment, this connection between you, was more than just physical—it was a profound expression of the love and trust you shared. As the kiss deepened, the rhythm of your bodies followed suit, each movement syncing perfectly with the other, a dance of intimacy that enveloped you both.

Minho presses another gentle kiss to your temple, a soft, unspoken acknowledgment of your consent. The delicate touch of his lips sends a soothing warmth through you, a silent promise of care and affection. Using the wrist he had previously rested against your neck, he gently guides your head back to rest on his shoulder, his touch both tender and commanding. At the same time, he lifts your wrists slightly by the ropes binding them, a subtle shift that draws you closer to him.

As your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the intensity of the moment, you feel yourself being enveloped by the sensations surrounding you. Minho's movements become a rhythm you can't help but follow, his hips coaxing you to roll your own in an erotic dance reminiscent of the way you move when seated on his lap. The heat of his skin meets the tender, restrained touch of your tied hands, and you instinctively let your fingers brush against his cheek, a soft caress that makes his breath hitch—a delightful response to your affectionate gesture amidst the consuming passion.

You begin to roll your hips in sync with Minho’s guiding movements, the rhythm now an unspoken dance between you. Shifting your head, you nestle your face into the curve of his neck, the closeness a balm to your senses. With swift, practiced motions, Minho directs your bound hands to move in a semi-circle in front of you, a motion that feels like a step in a choreographed routine. The pace of your bodies swaying together grows more urgent and intense, your breaths becoming sharp, matching Minho's as the anticipation of the moment electrifies every nerve in your body. 

As soon as your tied hands completed their arc from one side to the other, Minho eased back, allowing your pliant body to drape across his strong thigh. The soft, powerful support of his leg cradled you, and you surrendered completely to the enveloping tranquility that your mind floated upon. With your eyes still closed, you surrendered to the all-encompassing serenity that seemed to cocoon you.

Once you were settled on his thigh, Minho used his other leg to gently spread your knees further apart. A soft moan, which quickly morphed into a whine, escaped your lips as his firm hand pressed against your chest and traveled slowly down to cup your drenched arousal. But just as quickly, he withdrew, leaving you in a state of aching anticipation.

Minho shifted his body slightly, pulling you closer with the rope that bound your wrists. A hand guided your head forward, and you reluctantly opened your eyes to meet his intense gaze. His eyes, soft yet laden with a dark anticipation, locked onto yours as he resumed the sensual, circular rocking of your bodies. The tender yet unyielding rhythm of his movements sent shivers down your spine, and you felt a thrill at the shift in his gaze, a potent blend of tenderness and longing.

Leaning forward, Minho pushed you backward until your head nearly touched the ground, his lips parting in a teasing promise. Instinctively, you parted your own lips, expecting a kiss, but instead, he breathed into your mouth, the warm, intoxicating air a seductive caress as his eyes remained locked on yours. Just as abruptly, he pulled away, pressing you back firmly against his chest, leaving both of you breathless. 

Your cheeks pressed together, and a thrilling shiver raced up your spine as you watched Minho pull the rope tighter, binding your wrists securely against your chest. The sensation of the rope against your skin, combined with the proximity of his body and the intensity of his gaze, created a heady, intoxicating blend of pleasure and anticipation that left you utterly enraptured.

As the session deepens, Minho maintains a steady rhythm, swaying your bodies together in perfect harmony. His skilled hands move with deliberate grace, meticulously tying the rope to ensure your hands remain securely pressed against your chest. The rope's embrace is both encompassing and protective, each knot and loop placed with exquisite care. Minho pauses occasionally, his eyes soft yet attentive, as if silently checking in on you.

The rope winds its way around your shoulders, torso, and then descends to your thighs, hips, and legs. Each pass of the rope feels grounding and intense, its firm grip holding your legs apart to reveal your glistening core. The tightening sensation of the rope, combined with Minho’s unwavering presence, envelops you in a profound sense of vulnerability and trust. As Minho finishes the intricate tying, the final knot meticulously placed, you become aware of the intensity of the emotions coursing through you. A few tears have traced paths down your cheeks, each one tenderly kissed away by Minho.

With a gentle sigh, Minho allows you to rest on the ground, still bound but comforted. He kneels beside you, his eyes sparkling with admiration as he interlocks his fingers with one of yours. His gaze is filled with a tender appreciation for the intricate work he has completed. Leaning in, he presses a soft, loving kiss to your lips, his free hand caressing your hair with affectionate strokes. Despite the bonds that encircle you, there’s an astonishing sense of relaxation that washes over your body, a profound feeling of safety you’ve never experienced before.

The realization of how deeply safe and cherished you feel brings fresh tears to your eyes. Minho coos softly, his voice a gentle balm to your soul, as he kisses away each tear with a tenderness that rekindles your love for him. This renewed affection is even more intense and consuming than before. In a moment of pure connection, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss filled with tender passion, a testament to the profound bond you share.

What began as a tender kiss soon transformed into an urgent expression of unrestrained desire. Each touch of your lips against Minho’s was imbued with growing desperation, your moans escaping into the intoxicating dance of your shared kiss. His breath, once controlled, now came in ragged gasps, a stark testament to the fervor that had taken hold. As your previously clouded thoughts cleared, all that remained was an all-consuming craving for his body.

Though your hands were bound tightly against your chest, your fingertips clawed into his chiseled torso, digging in as though to silently convey your deep-seated needs. Minho’s groans were a symphony of pleasure, his brows knitting together as he relished the sting of your touch. The closeness between you was so profound that it blurred the lines of where one of you began and the other ended. This intoxicating proximity had you pressing your hips fervently against his, the ropes he had so meticulously wrapped around your hips digging into both of your heated skins, enhancing the fervor of the moment.

You luxuriated in the way his hands roamed over your bound body, pausing to explore the ropes before continuing their journey. Minho’s movements were deliberate, a testament to his careful attention to your every reaction. He eventually positioned himself between your tied knees, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that made you shiver with anticipation. His gaze lingered, taking in the sight of your flushed, sweat-drenched skin and the rhythm of your chest rising and falling as you panted.

A moan, almost drunken in its intensity, escaped Minho’s lips as his eyes fell upon your achingly drenched arousal. “God, you’re already so deliciously wet for me,” he murmured softly, his voice thick with admiration. You responded with a desperate whine, arching your hips upwards in a silent plea for him to meet your needs. His eyes softened at your response, and he leaned in to place a brief, affectionate kiss on your lips before trailing his mouth downward. His kisses, messy and fervent, left a heated trail along your skin, heightening the intensity of the moment as he continued to explore.

You writhed beneath his touch, your mouth parting as a continuous stream of moans and gasps spilled forth. Every sensation was magnified by the ropes binding your body, which restricted your movements and made it challenging to maintain eye contact with him. When his breath, warm and tantalizing, brushed against your throbbing core, a cry of delight escaped your lips. 

"Min, please," you whispered, your first unprompted plea since this passionate encounter began. The sound of your desperate request drew Minho's gaze upward, his eyes now burning with an even more insatiable hunger. "Please, baby," you continued to beg, your voice faltering as you struggled to articulate the depth of your need. "I need you, please, I really need—"

Your words were abruptly cut off by a loud, guttural moan that tore from your throat as Minho's exquisite lips finally made contact with your sensitive clit. The sensation of his lips enveloping and gently sucking, exactly as you had longed for, was electrifying. His touch was slow and deliberate, his movements methodical, each caress sending waves of unparalleled pleasure crashing over you. 

Minho's tongue danced along the edges of your core, and you bucked your hips into his face, seeking more of the intoxicating sensation. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped your tied hands, a desperate attempt to ground yourself amidst the overwhelming pleasure. When his fingers finally entered the warmth of your aching arousal, your eyes fluttered back, a primal moan escaping you as another wave of ecstasy surged through your body.

In the past, you might have confidently declared that Minho was an exceptional lover, but the present moment redefined your understanding of his skill. His fingers moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, a pace that was both torturous and exquisite, plunging in and out of you with an intensity that left you breathless. The sensation was so overwhelmingly blissful that it eclipsed any previous experience, tightening your lower abdomen with a fervor you had never known.

Minho’s gaze was a palpable force, watching you intently as you arched your back in response to his relentless exploration of that sensitive, perfect spot inside you. His free hand pressed firmly against your abdomen, enhancing the pressure and making each thrust of his fingers feel even more profound. Meanwhile, his mouth returned to your pulsing clit, lavishing it with tender, expert attention.

The building pressure in your abdomen reached a crescendo, and you were overwhelmed by a powerful wave of pleasure that swept through your convulsing body. Minho's voice reached you as though from a great distance, his words muffled and indistinct amidst the roaring storm of your climax. Your focus remained solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers, which continued to move deliberately in and out of you, guiding you through the final throes of your release.

As the waves of pleasure began to recede, Minho withdrew his fingers, and you watched with a mixture of awe and lingering desire as he brought them to his mouth. He cleaned your arousal with a slow, savoring sweep of his tongue, his eyes never leaving you as he did so. The sight of him tasting you, coupled with the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips, left you breathless and yearning for more.

As your breathing gradually evened out, Minho’s form loomed over you, his presence both commanding and tender. He crawled with a deliberate slowness, the heat of his hardened length brushing against your stomach with each movement. Supporting himself on his forearms, which framed either side of your head, and balancing on his knees that bracketed your hips, he created an intimate cocoon of sensation and anticipation.

Minho’s eyes sparkled with a gleeful satisfaction as he gazed down at you, a radiant smile lighting up his face. The sight of him made your cheeks flush with a warm, bashful hue, and you responded to his smile with one of your own, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his gaze. Yet, each time his aching, hardened core brushed against your skin, a hitch in his breath made it clear that the night’s pleasures were far from over. The renewed flutter of arousal in your own still-sensitive core sent a thrilling shiver through you.

“You were mesmerizing just now,” Minho murmured, his voice a soft whisper meant solely for your ears. The intimacy of his words deepened the blush on your cheeks, and rather than voicing a response, you pressed your lips to his in a fervent kiss. It was a silent plea for more, a desperate declaration of your lingering need for him. The intensity of your kiss drove Minho to groan deeply, his hips settling onto your pelvis. You felt the undeniable heat of his hardness and the telltale slickness that marked his need.

The contact elicited a shared moan from both of you, and you instinctively arched your hips upwards, meeting his body with an eager urgency. Minho shifted his weight to one arm, his free hand gently cradling your jaw as he pulled away just enough to meet your eyes. His gaze held a silent question, one that was answered by your breathless plea. “Please, Min, I’ve never felt so good,” you panted, “I want to have all of you, please.”

His eyes softened with understanding, and he leaned in to capture your lips once more. The hand that had held your jaw now descended, wrapping around his aching arousal. He groaned deeply at the touch, momentarily pausing to steady himself before he began to pump his length, spreading his own wetness and heightening his anticipation. When he finally pressed the tip of his length against your core, the breath between you both became a held moment of shared expectation.

With a careful, measured thrust, Minho sheathed himself fully inside you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as his tip found that sensitive spot with a precise, overwhelming pressure. Your back arched instinctively, seeking deeper connection. Minho’s forehead pressed against yours, his face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and intensity. His groans vibrated through you as he surrendered to the enveloping warmth of your pulsing tightness, the sensation of being within you driving him to the edge of his control.

Though Minho was often the type to drive you to the edge with relentless, vigorous thrusts that had you chanting his name like a sacred mantra, tonight was a different kind of exploration—one that delved deeply into the emotional connection you shared. This evening was about savoring the intimacy and connection between you.

The ropes that Minho had meticulously bound around your body pressed gently against your skin, creating a delicious tension that made your blood hum with heightened sensation. Each touch of the rope intensified the bliss that flowed through you, amplifying the pleasure you felt with every slow, deliberate motion of Minho’s hips. He would draw back just enough to tease, then push back into you with a depth that elicited soft, breathy moans from your lips.

Minho, too, was caught in the throes of this more tender passion. His eyes struggled to remain open as the pleasure overtook him, pulling him deeper into the shared experience. When you felt the telltale twitch of his length inside you, it was clear that he was nearing his peak. Determined to enhance the moment, you began to move your hips in time with his, each motion guided by the need to match his rhythm. Your moans grew louder as your sensitive clit grazed against his pelvis, driving both of you toward the precipice.

As Minho’s thrusts became more erratic and fevered, his control slipping as he chased his climax, the intensity between you both surged. Finally, with a thrust that struck your sensitive spot with a forceful precision, you both were pulled into an intimate, breathless crescendo. In that climactic moment, you pressed together, bodies entwined, as you both reached the peak of your pleasure simultaneously.

As the intensity of your shared passion began to wane, minutes slipped by in a languid haze. Your breath gradually settled, finding its rhythm once more, while Minho tenderly withdrew his softened length from your still-throbbing core. The room was infused with a soft glow, and you admired the way Minho’s skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat, a testament to the fervor of your union. You scarcely registered the sweet, murmured praises he offered as he meticulously began to untie the ropes that had bound you so intimately.

Your mind was still enveloped in the intoxicating fog of your shared ecstasy, yet every fiber of your being was alight with a blazing warmth that spoke of deep affection. “I love you, Min,” you breathed out, gently interrupting his gentle murmurings. His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, and his eyes softened with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. The unspoken emotion between you was palpable, and you continued, “Thank you for taking care of me. You have no idea how much I love you.”

As Minho unfastened the final knot securing your wrists, you did not hesitate. You drew him closer, enveloping him in a wordless embrace that conveyed a depth of emotion words could not capture. The silence of the moment spoke volumes, a shared connection that transcended language, as you both held each other tightly, savoring the quiet after the storm of your passion.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @jisunglyricist @hyun-bun @nebugalaxy

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

────* ˚ ✦ BONDS OF PASSION ( stray kids )

❛ In a night of profound emotional connection and intimacy, you and Minho explore your bond through the intricate art of shibari, culminating in a tender embrace that deepens your love and gratitude.

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.2k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 28 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ I'm always saying this, but I really love shibari; it's quite literally one of my favorite kinks. So, thank you to my wonderful mootie, Merin, for making the request! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, this is Y/N's first time participating in shibari, Minho has experience in shibari, intensely emotional sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving), penetration, unprotected sex (please don't do this), let me know if I missed anything!

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

The world outside seemed to fade away as if his bedroom had slipped into a realm of its own, where time slowed and the only reality was the two of you, kneeling on the floor. Every breath shared in the confined space felt amplified, the air thick with anticipation. The weight of your bare bodies pressed against the cool wooden floor, facing each other in a vulnerable dance of gazes that held unspoken promises. His eyes, deep pools of dark intensity, locked onto yours with a fervor you had never witnessed before. Minho's gaze bore into you, filled with a passion so palpable it sent shivers down your spine, yet there was something more—a quiet confidence, an ease born of experience, that radiated from him like a quiet storm. It was a look that only someone who had navigated these waters before could possess.

In contrast, you could feel the uncertainty swirling within your own eyes, a reflection of the storm raging inside you. You imagined how pale your face must appear under the soft light, as your heart pounded relentlessly against your chest, each beat echoing in the stillness of the room. The silence between you both was almost deafening, broken only by the rhythmic rise and fall of your breaths. You were acutely aware that this was uncharted territory for you, a space where Minho had already traveled with ease. 

This would be the first time you would surrender so completely, relinquishing not just the control of your body but also the reins of your heart and soul. The thought of it made your pulse race even faster, a flutter of nerves and excitement tangling within you. The rope you had both chosen together, a symbol of trust and shared desire, lay between you on the floor, a silent witness to the intimacy about to unfold. As you knelt before him, you knew that tonight, you would willingly empty your mind, allowing Minho to guide you into a world where he alone dictated the pace, where his touch would define your every movement and sensation. And as the rope waited patiently, you found yourself ready to embark on this journey with him, prepared to lose yourself in the intensity of the moment.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly before Minho’s lips finally curled into a gentle, reassuring smile, a subtle yet powerful gesture that sent a cascade of tingles racing across your skin. The moment felt suspended in a delicate balance between anticipation and reality, where the space between you two was charged with an unspoken understanding. The warmth of his gaze enveloped you, pulling you into the depths of his emotions, where you could glimpse the full spectrum of his intentions, his unyielding desire, and the raw intensity of his feelings. In that gaze, you found solace, a calming balm to the storm of thoughts that had been churning within you.

The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you cocooned in this intimate bubble. Minho’s eyes spoke volumes, revealing the depth of his commitment to you, and in that moment, all remnants of doubt and anxiety began to dissipate. The air around you, thick with silent anticipation, was finally pierced by the soft melody of his voice, tender and careful as if coaxing your soul to dance with his. “Do you remember our safe word?” he asked, the question a gentle reminder of the trust that formed the foundation of what was about to unfold.

His eyes left yours momentarily, tracing the contours of your expression as if seeking any lingering traces of hesitation. You met his gaze with a timid nod, the ghost of a smile beginning to tug at your lips. “Mercy,” you whispered, the word carrying with it a promise of trust, a signal that you were still willing to journey into this new, uncharted territory with him. 

Minho’s smile widened, a reflection of the satisfaction and joy that your willingness brought him. It was a smile that held a thousand promises, a smile that reassured you of the care he would take as he led you further into this passionate exploration. In that smile, you saw not just a lover, but a guide, someone who would hold you through the most intense moments and bring you safely to the other side. And as you both prepared to step into this new chapter together, the connection between you deepened, wrapped in the shared understanding that, no matter what, you were in this together.

Minho rose to his feet, and your eyes couldn’t help but follow the fluid motion of his form, tracing the contours of his body as he moved with a quiet, unspoken elegance. Every inch of him was a masterpiece, a living testament to the beauty that lies in the harmony of strength and grace. As he made his way behind you, you allowed yourself to drink in the sight of him, this man who stood before you like a vision of divine perfection. His naked form, something you had always admired, seemed almost otherworldly in its beauty, a reflection of the statues of ancient gods that once graced the grand temples of old.

Minho’s physique was a study in contrasts, lean yet muscular, with each muscle defined in a way that spoke of both power and restraint. His body was a work of art, chiseled with the same care and precision that an ancient sculptor might have applied to marble, capturing the very essence of masculine beauty. Every movement he made was deliberate, infused with a quiet confidence that spoke of his inner strength. There was a grace in the way he carried himself, an elegance that made your knees tremble with admiration, as if you were in the presence of a god who needed no words to command the space around him.

The sharp lines of his jaw were a testament to the precision with which nature had crafted him, a strong and unwavering feature that brought to mind the angular perfection of the statues that had survived the ages. It was a defining trait, one that spoke of the strength and resolve that lay beneath the surface, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly it seemed to fit him, as if he had been carved by the hands of an ancient artisan intent on embodying the ideal of masculine beauty.

And then there were his hands, the part of him you cherished most. Those hands, both graceful and strong, were like those of a Greek statue, crafted with a care that reflected both power and delicacy. Whether they were guiding him through the fluid movements of a dance or exploring every inch of your body with a precision that drove you to the edge of insanity, his hands conveyed an artistry that was unparalleled. They spoke of his physical prowess, of his ability to channel his strength into the most delicate of touches, and in those moments, you could feel the depth of his connection to you, as if his very soul was intertwined with yours.

Lee Minho, the man who held your heart in his hands, was a raw beauty to behold, a living embodiment of the divine made flesh. His presence, his very essence, was something that captivated you, drawing you in like a moth to a flame, and as you gazed upon him, you couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of awe at the man who stood before you, a man whose soul you firmly believed was tied to yours in a bond that was as unbreakable as it was beautiful.

Your bare skin ignited with a fiery sensation the very moment Minho's warm, naked torso pressed firmly against your back. His presence was a comforting weight, his legs resting on either side of your crossed limbs, encasing you in a protective embrace. You could feel his breath, warm and gentle, fanning over the sensitive skin of your neck, sending shivers racing down your spine. As he reached around you, his hands moved with a deliberate tenderness, uncrossing your legs with a fluid grace that left you breathless. The moment his strong legs pinned yours beneath him, you felt an exhilarating surge of vulnerability and trust. His touch was a soothing balm, and as your skin prickled with tiny bumps in response, you surrendered yourself to his guidance, allowing him to mold your body however he wished.

A featherlight kiss brushed the nape of your neck, his plump lips barely grazing your skin, yet the sensation was enough to draw a muted gasp from your parted lips. Minho gently pulled you back, easing you into his embrace until your full weight rested against him, your back flush with his chest. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, and you found yourself biting back a moan as his warmth seeped into your very being. 

Minho had only just begun to touch you, yet already the worries that had once plagued your mind — whether large or small, old or new — began to dissolve, fading into the background as your thoughts grew quieter. With each passing second, you felt your mind and body gradually submit to the serene headspace Minho had so patiently explained to you before. He had been right; there truly was nothing that compared to the bliss of surrendering every burden, every lingering doubt, to the gentle pleasure that was slowly consuming your senses. 

Time seemed to blur as he held you close, his strong arms wrapped securely around your chest, anchoring you in the moment. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his breathing became your world, a lullaby that lulled you deeper into tranquility. You reached up, fingers trembling slightly as you interlaced them with his, feeling the warmth and strength in his grasp. In his embrace, you found a sanctuary, a place where you could lose yourself completely, letting go of everything except the profound connection you shared with him. 

It took a moment for you to realize that Minho had begun gently rocking your bodies from side to side, his embrace warm and secure, as though he was cradling your very soul. His breath, warm against your ear, sent waves of desire coursing through you, a passion so intense it bordered on painful. His voice, soft and tender, murmured words that sent shivers down your spine. "Your pretty head is already so empty, baby," he whispered, each word laced with adoration. "You're doing so good for me already." As his lips trailed tender kisses along every inch of your exposed skin, you instinctively squeezed his fingers, your silent way of letting him know you were still present, still with him. 

Minho’s fingers tightened around yours in response, a comforting reassurance that melted any lingering doubts. "I can't thank you enough for trusting me like this," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine reverence. "It’s such an honor to share this moment with you." The delicacy of his words sent a soft whine escaping from your lips, quickly turning into a moan that echoed the vulnerability you felt in his presence. With a final, lingering kiss pressed onto your shoulder, Minho slowly unwrapped his arms from around your torso, his touch lingering like the ghost of a warm embrace. 

He shifted his position with a graceful ease, one knee sinking to the floor while the other foot remained firmly planted, his body hovering over yours like a guardian angel. His eyes, filled with a quiet intensity, never left yours as he reached for the rope that had been momentarily forgotten between you. With practiced care, he began working the rope free from its tight spiral, each loop unfurling in a fluid motion until it lay in a long, taut line behind you. 

With a few measured tugs, Minho folded the length in half, aligning the two ends with meticulous precision before letting the rope rest lazily over one of your shoulders. The looped end of the rope was held between his teeth, a playful glint in his eyes as he let the rough texture brush against your overly sensitive skin. The sensation sent your breath hitching, your heartbeat quickening in anticipation of what was to come. Every fiber of your being was attuned to him, to the way his touch promised both restraint and release, as you surrender yourself completely to the moment, to Minho.

Once the rope was positioned just right, Minho wasted no time in pressing his firm chest against your back once more. The warmth of his skin sent a comforting shiver through you, and as his body began to sway, it felt as though you were both caught in an entrancing dance. Slowly, he guided you into a series of circular motions, the gentle rhythm lulling you deeper into a shared trance. The way he moved with you was like a carefully choreographed ballet, each step measured and intentional, designed to draw out the pleasure simmering just beneath the surface.

As Minho pinned your arms beneath his own, a surge of instinct had you clutching the back of his thighs, seeking an anchor in the storm of sensations that were building between you. The heat of the moment intensified, and you closed your eyes, surrendering to the waves of pleasure that washed over you with each of Minho’s expert touches. His hands, strong yet tender, guided your movements, and the synergy between your bodies grew with every slow, deliberate motion. The connection was so deep, so visceral, that you lost track of time, completely immersed in the dance of your shared intimacy.

At some point, you became aware that your legs had returned to their original x-patterned position. The realization came just as Minho’s hands, heavy with intent yet comforting in their touch, pressed against your feet. He let them linger there for a moment before slowly, sensually, dragging them up the length of your legs. His fingers caressed your inner thighs, ghosting over your aching arousal, teasing you with the promise of more. Finally, his hands found their home on your waist, and the sensation was so overwhelming that a guttural moan escaped your lips, raw and unbidden. 

Your head fell back against Minho’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering open for a brief second. Through the haze of desire, you caught sight of his gaze — an all-consuming love that pierced through the fog of your mind, grounding you in the moment. The way his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that spoke of both passion and devotion, sent a shiver down your spine. You reached out with a trembling hand to squeeze his bicep, offering a blissed-out grin in return, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection you shared. Then, with a soft sigh, you let your eyes drift closed once more, allowing yourself to sink back into the warmth of his embrace, the intimacy of this moment enveloping you completely.

A few moments passed in this heavenly embrace, each second stretching into eternity as you basked in the warmth of Minho’s touch. The world outside seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you entwined in this intimate dance. But then, the gentle hold on your waist faded, replaced by the firm yet careful grip of Minho's hands as they moved to capture your wrists. With a tender precision, he brought them together in front of your body, the motion so fluid it felt almost like an extension of the dance you were sharing.

He held your wrists together with one hand, a possessive yet loving grasp that sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins. His free hand trailed up the length of your arm, a ghostly touch that left your skin tingling in its wake, before finding its place in your hair. His fingers wove through the strands, gripping just firmly enough to draw a moan from your lips. It wasn't painful — far from it — but the pressure was just enough to remind you of the power he held, the control he wielded over your body and senses.

The rhythmic, circular motions he had so carefully orchestrated came to an abrupt stop, leaving you breathless with anticipation. Then, with a controlled force, Minho pushed both of your bodies forward, guiding you down until your chest and stomach were pressed firmly against the ground. Your knees spread to the sides, a position that left you utterly vulnerable and exposed, and the raw, guttural moan that tore from your throat was a testament to the overwhelming arousal that flooded your senses.

As your mind struggled to catch up with this new, intoxicating position, Minho's warm body followed yours, his presence a constant, grounding force. The sensation of his naked flesh draping over your folded form sent shivers of pleasure coursing down your spine, each touch amplifying the closeness you shared. The weight of him pressed against your overly sensitive skin was both a comfort and a thrill, intensifying the already electric connection between you. It was as though every inch of your body was attuned to his, every nerve ending alive with the sensation of Minho, his touch, his breath, his very essence surrounding you, holding you captive in this moment of pure, unbridled intimacy.

Despite the rope held between his teeth, Minho managed to press a tender kiss onto your flushed cheek, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. As his lips lingered, you felt the first tentative grind of his hardened arousal against your lower back, the intimate friction igniting a new wave of sensation that rippled through your body. The slow, deliberate movement caused both of you to rock back and forth in a rhythm that was as mesmerizing as it was intoxicating, a silent dance that spoke of unspoken desires and deepening connection.

Your mouth fell open in a wordless gasp, your senses immediately drowning in the overwhelming pleasure that blossomed from this newfound contact. Each subtle shift of his hips against you sent shockwaves of arousal spiraling through your core, leaving you painfully wet and clenching around the emptiness inside, desperate for more. The need within you grew with every passing second, a relentless ache that only intensified as your body responded to his touch with soft whines and gasps, spilling from your lips without restraint.

Your eyelids crinkled in pleasure, brows knitting together as your mind struggled to keep up with the storm of sensations crashing over you. But any semblance of control was quickly lost as you felt Minho's hardened length begin to leak onto your lower back, the warmth of his arousal mingling with your own fevered skin. The combination was electrifying, a heady mix of intimacy and desire that left you trembling. 

Minho’s breathing grew strained, the steady rhythm faltering as he momentarily lost himself in his own pleasure, the sound of it like a raw, primal symphony that echoed in your ears. The very air between you crackled with the intensity of the moment, each breath, each touch, each whisper of fabric against skin drawing you deeper into the vortex of sensation that consumed you both. And as the two of you rocked together, moving in perfect unison, it felt as though nothing else existed beyond the boundaries of this shared moment, this exquisite blend of passion and connection.

However, the fleeting pleasure of Minho's grinding against your lower back was soon replaced by a new sensation as he shifted positions once again. His movements were deliberate, yet unhurried, as he slowly pulled away, the grinding coming to a hesitant halt. The rope that had been held between his teeth now trailed gently across the expanse of your back, leaving a tingling path in its wake. The sensation was enough to elicit a soft moan from your lips, a sound that only deepened when Minho's fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you back into the solid warmth of his chest. His grip was firm yet tender, sending ripples of electricity across your skin, each pulse intensifying the connection between you.

The way your body instinctively melted into each of Minho's silent commands was intoxicating, a surrender that felt both empowering and liberating. In his hands, you felt safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by the depth of your shared intimacy. There was no need to worry or overthink, as your soul-tied lover had taken control of every aspect of your pleasure, guiding you with a deftness that only heightened your arousal with every passing second. The trust between you was palpable, a silent understanding that allowed you to let go completely, to revel in the sensations that Minho was expertly crafting.

Your awareness of his actions dimmed as you lost yourself in the familiar rhythm of your bodies moving in perfect unison. The steady rocking was a dance of pure sensation, each movement a testament to the deep connection you shared. It wasn't long before you felt Minho's hand release its hold on your hair, and your dazed eyes fluttered open, curiosity piqued by the change in his touch. His free hand joined the other, which had been holding both of your wrists, and you watched through half-lidded eyes as the rope glided smoothly over your skin, its texture a reminder of the gentle power Minho wielded over you.

With slow, deliberate movements, Minho began to wrap the rope around your wrists, his expert hands tying the first knot with a precision that was both arousing and reassuring. The pressure of the rope was firm, enough to make you feel bound, yet not tight enough to cause discomfort. It was a tender introduction, a prelude to what was to come, and the anticipation of it sent a thrill through your body. The way Minho's hands moved with such care and intention made it clear that this was only the beginning, and the thought of what lay ahead left you breathless, your heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of your shared desire.

Your breath catches as Minho's teeth graze your earlobe, a playful nip that sends a shiver down your spine. He'd just secured the first knot around your wrists, tugging lightly to ensure it held firm. The binding was precise, a testament to his careful attention. "How are we feeling, my love?" he murmured, his voice softer than a whisper, as though the very air around you would break if he spoke too loudly. Even through the fog of your bliss, you managed a silent nod, your senses dulled yet heightened by the intimacy of the moment. Minho's quiet chuckle warmed your heart, its gentle timbre resonating deep within you.

Releasing his grip on your wrists, Minho didn't pause in the rhythmic sway of your bodies. His hands moved with purpose, trailing up and down your arms in a tender effort to ground you in the here and now. The sensation was electric, a soothing contrast to the growing intensity between you. "Use your words for me," he coaxed, his tone a mix of gentle insistence and deep affection. "I need to know you're here with me." The sheer tenderness in his voice drew a whimper from your lips, the weight of your love for him pressing heavily on your chest.

As his chin came to rest softly on your shoulder, you tilted your head just enough to meet his gaze. His expression was one of pure serenity, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you. The sight of him, so calm and full of love, made your heart swell, your cheeks flushing a deeper shade of crimson. With a small, almost shy smile, you whispered, "I'm here. I'm with you." The words were meant for him alone, a quiet reassurance that you were still present, still grounded in this moment with him.

Minho's smile widened at your response, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was as sweet as it was brief. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, any hint that you were anything less than utterly content. But all he found was the evidence of your mind blissfully clouded, your expression soft and open. You managed another nod, followed by a whispered "yes," the word barely more than a breath. He hummed in satisfaction, pressing a kiss to your temple before his hand moved to rest against your throat.

The shift in his touch brought a new intensity to the moment, his wrist firm against your throat as he quickened the pace of your shared rhythm. The atmosphere in the room thickened, the air heavy with the weight of your connection. "My love," he murmured into your ear, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, sending another shiver through you. "From this point forward, I will be picking up the pace. Just keep in mind that I adore you completely, so if you need me to stop, all you have to do is use the safe word, and I will do as asked. Please nod your head if you understand this, baby. I need you to stay here with me."

The gentle pleading in his voice tugged at your heart, and you felt an overwhelming surge of emotion. His concern, his care, it all spoke to the depth of his feelings for you. With a soft yet firm resolve, you met his gaze, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that mirrored his own. Slowly, you nodded, the movement small but full of assurance.

Minho's eyes softened further, the relief evident as he leaned in to capture your lips once more in a kiss that was both tender and full of promise. This moment, this connection between you, was more than just physical—it was a profound expression of the love and trust you shared. As the kiss deepened, the rhythm of your bodies followed suit, each movement syncing perfectly with the other, a dance of intimacy that enveloped you both.

Minho presses another gentle kiss to your temple, a soft, unspoken acknowledgment of your consent. The delicate touch of his lips sends a soothing warmth through you, a silent promise of care and affection. Using the wrist he had previously rested against your neck, he gently guides your head back to rest on his shoulder, his touch both tender and commanding. At the same time, he lifts your wrists slightly by the ropes binding them, a subtle shift that draws you closer to him.

As your eyes flutter closed, surrendering to the intensity of the moment, you feel yourself being enveloped by the sensations surrounding you. Minho's movements become a rhythm you can't help but follow, his hips coaxing you to roll your own in an erotic dance reminiscent of the way you move when seated on his lap. The heat of his skin meets the tender, restrained touch of your tied hands, and you instinctively let your fingers brush against his cheek, a soft caress that makes his breath hitch—a delightful response to your affectionate gesture amidst the consuming passion.

You begin to roll your hips in sync with Minho’s guiding movements, the rhythm now an unspoken dance between you. Shifting your head, you nestle your face into the curve of his neck, the closeness a balm to your senses. With swift, practiced motions, Minho directs your bound hands to move in a semi-circle in front of you, a motion that feels like a step in a choreographed routine. The pace of your bodies swaying together grows more urgent and intense, your breaths becoming sharp, matching Minho's as the anticipation of the moment electrifies every nerve in your body. 

As soon as your tied hands completed their arc from one side to the other, Minho eased back, allowing your pliant body to drape across his strong thigh. The soft, powerful support of his leg cradled you, and you surrendered completely to the enveloping tranquility that your mind floated upon. With your eyes still closed, you surrendered to the all-encompassing serenity that seemed to cocoon you.

Once you were settled on his thigh, Minho used his other leg to gently spread your knees further apart. A soft moan, which quickly morphed into a whine, escaped your lips as his firm hand pressed against your chest and traveled slowly down to cup your drenched arousal. But just as quickly, he withdrew, leaving you in a state of aching anticipation.

Minho shifted his body slightly, pulling you closer with the rope that bound your wrists. A hand guided your head forward, and you reluctantly opened your eyes to meet his intense gaze. His eyes, soft yet laden with a dark anticipation, locked onto yours as he resumed the sensual, circular rocking of your bodies. The tender yet unyielding rhythm of his movements sent shivers down your spine, and you felt a thrill at the shift in his gaze, a potent blend of tenderness and longing.

Leaning forward, Minho pushed you backward until your head nearly touched the ground, his lips parting in a teasing promise. Instinctively, you parted your own lips, expecting a kiss, but instead, he breathed into your mouth, the warm, intoxicating air a seductive caress as his eyes remained locked on yours. Just as abruptly, he pulled away, pressing you back firmly against his chest, leaving both of you breathless. 

Your cheeks pressed together, and a thrilling shiver raced up your spine as you watched Minho pull the rope tighter, binding your wrists securely against your chest. The sensation of the rope against your skin, combined with the proximity of his body and the intensity of his gaze, created a heady, intoxicating blend of pleasure and anticipation that left you utterly enraptured.

As the session deepens, Minho maintains a steady rhythm, swaying your bodies together in perfect harmony. His skilled hands move with deliberate grace, meticulously tying the rope to ensure your hands remain securely pressed against your chest. The rope's embrace is both encompassing and protective, each knot and loop placed with exquisite care. Minho pauses occasionally, his eyes soft yet attentive, as if silently checking in on you.

The rope winds its way around your shoulders, torso, and then descends to your thighs, hips, and legs. Each pass of the rope feels grounding and intense, its firm grip holding your legs apart to reveal your glistening core. The tightening sensation of the rope, combined with Minho’s unwavering presence, envelops you in a profound sense of vulnerability and trust. As Minho finishes the intricate tying, the final knot meticulously placed, you become aware of the intensity of the emotions coursing through you. A few tears have traced paths down your cheeks, each one tenderly kissed away by Minho.

With a gentle sigh, Minho allows you to rest on the ground, still bound but comforted. He kneels beside you, his eyes sparkling with admiration as he interlocks his fingers with one of yours. His gaze is filled with a tender appreciation for the intricate work he has completed. Leaning in, he presses a soft, loving kiss to your lips, his free hand caressing your hair with affectionate strokes. Despite the bonds that encircle you, there’s an astonishing sense of relaxation that washes over your body, a profound feeling of safety you’ve never experienced before.

The realization of how deeply safe and cherished you feel brings fresh tears to your eyes. Minho coos softly, his voice a gentle balm to your soul, as he kisses away each tear with a tenderness that rekindles your love for him. This renewed affection is even more intense and consuming than before. In a moment of pure connection, you turn your head to capture his lips in a kiss filled with tender passion, a testament to the profound bond you share.

What began as a tender kiss soon transformed into an urgent expression of unrestrained desire. Each touch of your lips against Minho’s was imbued with growing desperation, your moans escaping into the intoxicating dance of your shared kiss. His breath, once controlled, now came in ragged gasps, a stark testament to the fervor that had taken hold. As your previously clouded thoughts cleared, all that remained was an all-consuming craving for his body.

Though your hands were bound tightly against your chest, your fingertips clawed into his chiseled torso, digging in as though to silently convey your deep-seated needs. Minho’s groans were a symphony of pleasure, his brows knitting together as he relished the sting of your touch. The closeness between you was so profound that it blurred the lines of where one of you began and the other ended. This intoxicating proximity had you pressing your hips fervently against his, the ropes he had so meticulously wrapped around your hips digging into both of your heated skins, enhancing the fervor of the moment.

You luxuriated in the way his hands roamed over your bound body, pausing to explore the ropes before continuing their journey. Minho’s movements were deliberate, a testament to his careful attention to your every reaction. He eventually positioned himself between your tied knees, his eyes gleaming with a hunger that made you shiver with anticipation. His gaze lingered, taking in the sight of your flushed, sweat-drenched skin and the rhythm of your chest rising and falling as you panted.

A moan, almost drunken in its intensity, escaped Minho’s lips as his eyes fell upon your achingly drenched arousal. “God, you’re already so deliciously wet for me,” he murmured softly, his voice thick with admiration. You responded with a desperate whine, arching your hips upwards in a silent plea for him to meet your needs. His eyes softened at your response, and he leaned in to place a brief, affectionate kiss on your lips before trailing his mouth downward. His kisses, messy and fervent, left a heated trail along your skin, heightening the intensity of the moment as he continued to explore.

You writhed beneath his touch, your mouth parting as a continuous stream of moans and gasps spilled forth. Every sensation was magnified by the ropes binding your body, which restricted your movements and made it challenging to maintain eye contact with him. When his breath, warm and tantalizing, brushed against your throbbing core, a cry of delight escaped your lips. 

"Min, please," you whispered, your first unprompted plea since this passionate encounter began. The sound of your desperate request drew Minho's gaze upward, his eyes now burning with an even more insatiable hunger. "Please, baby," you continued to beg, your voice faltering as you struggled to articulate the depth of your need. "I need you, please, I really need—"

Your words were abruptly cut off by a loud, guttural moan that tore from your throat as Minho's exquisite lips finally made contact with your sensitive clit. The sensation of his lips enveloping and gently sucking, exactly as you had longed for, was electrifying. His touch was slow and deliberate, his movements methodical, each caress sending waves of unparalleled pleasure crashing over you. 

Minho's tongue danced along the edges of your core, and you bucked your hips into his face, seeking more of the intoxicating sensation. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped your tied hands, a desperate attempt to ground yourself amidst the overwhelming pleasure. When his fingers finally entered the warmth of your aching arousal, your eyes fluttered back, a primal moan escaping you as another wave of ecstasy surged through your body.

In the past, you might have confidently declared that Minho was an exceptional lover, but the present moment redefined your understanding of his skill. His fingers moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, a pace that was both torturous and exquisite, plunging in and out of you with an intensity that left you breathless. The sensation was so overwhelmingly blissful that it eclipsed any previous experience, tightening your lower abdomen with a fervor you had never known.

Minho’s gaze was a palpable force, watching you intently as you arched your back in response to his relentless exploration of that sensitive, perfect spot inside you. His free hand pressed firmly against your abdomen, enhancing the pressure and making each thrust of his fingers feel even more profound. Meanwhile, his mouth returned to your pulsing clit, lavishing it with tender, expert attention.

The building pressure in your abdomen reached a crescendo, and you were overwhelmed by a powerful wave of pleasure that swept through your convulsing body. Minho's voice reached you as though from a great distance, his words muffled and indistinct amidst the roaring storm of your climax. Your focus remained solely on the rhythmic motion of his fingers, which continued to move deliberately in and out of you, guiding you through the final throes of your release.

As the waves of pleasure began to recede, Minho withdrew his fingers, and you watched with a mixture of awe and lingering desire as he brought them to his mouth. He cleaned your arousal with a slow, savoring sweep of his tongue, his eyes never leaving you as he did so. The sight of him tasting you, coupled with the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips, left you breathless and yearning for more.

As your breathing gradually evened out, Minho’s form loomed over you, his presence both commanding and tender. He crawled with a deliberate slowness, the heat of his hardened length brushing against your stomach with each movement. Supporting himself on his forearms, which framed either side of your head, and balancing on his knees that bracketed your hips, he created an intimate cocoon of sensation and anticipation.

Minho’s eyes sparkled with a gleeful satisfaction as he gazed down at you, a radiant smile lighting up his face. The sight of him made your cheeks flush with a warm, bashful hue, and you responded to his smile with one of your own, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his gaze. Yet, each time his aching, hardened core brushed against your skin, a hitch in his breath made it clear that the night’s pleasures were far from over. The renewed flutter of arousal in your own still-sensitive core sent a thrilling shiver through you.

“You were mesmerizing just now,” Minho murmured, his voice a soft whisper meant solely for your ears. The intimacy of his words deepened the blush on your cheeks, and rather than voicing a response, you pressed your lips to his in a fervent kiss. It was a silent plea for more, a desperate declaration of your lingering need for him. The intensity of your kiss drove Minho to groan deeply, his hips settling onto your pelvis. You felt the undeniable heat of his hardness and the telltale slickness that marked his need.

The contact elicited a shared moan from both of you, and you instinctively arched your hips upwards, meeting his body with an eager urgency. Minho shifted his weight to one arm, his free hand gently cradling your jaw as he pulled away just enough to meet your eyes. His gaze held a silent question, one that was answered by your breathless plea. “Please, Min, I’ve never felt so good,” you panted, “I want to have all of you, please.”

His eyes softened with understanding, and he leaned in to capture your lips once more. The hand that had held your jaw now descended, wrapping around his aching arousal. He groaned deeply at the touch, momentarily pausing to steady himself before he began to pump his length, spreading his own wetness and heightening his anticipation. When he finally pressed the tip of his length against your core, the breath between you both became a held moment of shared expectation.

With a careful, measured thrust, Minho sheathed himself fully inside you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as his tip found that sensitive spot with a precise, overwhelming pressure. Your back arched instinctively, seeking deeper connection. Minho’s forehead pressed against yours, his face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and intensity. His groans vibrated through you as he surrendered to the enveloping warmth of your pulsing tightness, the sensation of being within you driving him to the edge of his control.

Though Minho was often the type to drive you to the edge with relentless, vigorous thrusts that had you chanting his name like a sacred mantra, tonight was a different kind of exploration—one that delved deeply into the emotional connection you shared. This evening was about savoring the intimacy and connection between you.

The ropes that Minho had meticulously bound around your body pressed gently against your skin, creating a delicious tension that made your blood hum with heightened sensation. Each touch of the rope intensified the bliss that flowed through you, amplifying the pleasure you felt with every slow, deliberate motion of Minho’s hips. He would draw back just enough to tease, then push back into you with a depth that elicited soft, breathy moans from your lips.

Minho, too, was caught in the throes of this more tender passion. His eyes struggled to remain open as the pleasure overtook him, pulling him deeper into the shared experience. When you felt the telltale twitch of his length inside you, it was clear that he was nearing his peak. Determined to enhance the moment, you began to move your hips in time with his, each motion guided by the need to match his rhythm. Your moans grew louder as your sensitive clit grazed against his pelvis, driving both of you toward the precipice.

As Minho’s thrusts became more erratic and fevered, his control slipping as he chased his climax, the intensity between you both surged. Finally, with a thrust that struck your sensitive spot with a forceful precision, you both were pulled into an intimate, breathless crescendo. In that climactic moment, you pressed together, bodies entwined, as you both reached the peak of your pleasure simultaneously.

As the intensity of your shared passion began to wane, minutes slipped by in a languid haze. Your breath gradually settled, finding its rhythm once more, while Minho tenderly withdrew his softened length from your still-throbbing core. The room was infused with a soft glow, and you admired the way Minho’s skin gleamed with a sheen of sweat, a testament to the fervor of your union. You scarcely registered the sweet, murmured praises he offered as he meticulously began to untie the ropes that had bound you so intimately.

Your mind was still enveloped in the intoxicating fog of your shared ecstasy, yet every fiber of your being was alight with a blazing warmth that spoke of deep affection. “I love you, Min,” you breathed out, gently interrupting his gentle murmurings. His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, and his eyes softened with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. The unspoken emotion between you was palpable, and you continued, “Thank you for taking care of me. You have no idea how much I love you.”

As Minho unfastened the final knot securing your wrists, you did not hesitate. You drew him closer, enveloping him in a wordless embrace that conveyed a depth of emotion words could not capture. The silence of the moment spoke volumes, a shared connection that transcended language, as you both held each other tightly, savoring the quiet after the storm of your passion.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @jisunglyricist @nxtt2-u @nebugalaxy

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

hiii my green how are youuu ??😽 i hope you dont mind me hopping in here to request something ><

ive been thinking a lot abt skz and shibari since i read your headcanons and i was wondering if you could write something like this with minho and fem!reader where the reader is the one being tied up ?? something really comforting and intimate, with lots of emotional connection if its okay ?? ofc dont feel pressured and/or rushed !! take your time<33

n e wayy, take care, ilyy🫶🏽🫶🏽

Beautiful Merin, hello! All things considered, I'm doing pretty good! Merin, I will never mind you making requests, they're all truly wonderful 🥰🫶

The way I was giggling and kicking my feet when I read your request, you have no idea how fucking excited I was to finally write something focused on the pure beauty of shibari 😩 I really, really loved writing this, so I hope you enjoy reading it!

Please make sure to drink water! ILY! ── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

────* ˚ ✦ BONDS OF PASSION (MDNI)

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 7.2k

Thank you!! This is such an incredible compliment ILYSM! 💕

𑁍ࠬܓ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( stray kids )

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

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 4.4k

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

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

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

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

방찬 ── BANG CHAN.

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

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

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

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

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

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

이민호 ── LEE MINHO.

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

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

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

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

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

서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

한지성 ── HAN JISUNG.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

이용복 ── LEE YONGBOK.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

김승민 ── KIM SEUNGMIN.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

양정인 ── JANG JEONGIN.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @bowsnbang @nothinginterestingtoshowhere

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

hi green !! i’ve been a quiet enjoyer of your works and i finally grew the courage to make a request i hope that’s okay !!

what would puppy love with lee know look like ? if it’s with a male reader, that would be great ! thank you !

PUPPY LOVE— lee minho

스트레이 키즈 ( 리노 ) x male reader genre. fluff warnings. it's gay, the gays get in trouble at school therefore minho gets in trouble at home, gay, more gay, they're in high school and in love and it's them against the world, also it’s mostly written from minho’s pov rating. everyone word count. 1.0k summary. in which high school lee minho is so madly in love with you that he's willing to follow you anywhere, anytime.

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Puppy-Love-Minho who would wake up before the sun was even up so he could be the first to see you when you arrived at school, falling asleep on his desk while he waited. He would always look away sheepishly when he would wake up to find you watching him with twinkling eyes, laughing lightly. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who would follow you into the faculty break room with his heart beating in his throat while you rummaged around to see if you could find anything of interest. He would’ve never done something that could earn him a scolding, though because you suggested it, he agreed to be the lookout while simultaneously swooning at the goofy smirk you wore while you found love notes from teachers by the coffee machine. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who, in the terrifying realization that the well-known strict math teacher was making her way into the faculty break room, grabbed you by the wrist without a word before bolting out of the room while you stumbled and tripped behind him. The shouting from your teacher being drowned out by the crazed giggles coming out of both of your mouths as you continued to run as fast as you possibly could while trying not to fixate too much on the fact that he was still holding your wrist. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who would pull you into one of the stalls of the boys’ bathroom to finally rest from running, having you stand on the toilet together though still huddled — your legs becoming a tangled mess as you both panted and laughed breathlessly, trying to calm the loud drums of your hearts. It was a matter of seconds before you both really noticed how close together your faces were, your lips a hair’s width away from touching his. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who would turn away shyly, hoping to whatever gods existed that you couldn’t hear the way his heart beat erratically at such a scene. His ears burned red as the blood crept up and pooled into his cheeks all the while his hands trembled. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who almost passed out when the principal of your school suddenly opens the bathroom stall in which you’d both hidden in, his face contorted in anger as he pointed his finger towards the exit. Although Minho could only imagine the amount of trouble he’ll find himself in at home, he couldn’t help but be guilt-free at the sight of your amused grin that made you look as though you thought this whole ordeal was funny. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who received the scolding of his life the second he stepped foot inside of his home, very much as he’d predicted, and got sent to his room without the privilege of leaving unless it was to use the bathroom. Even still, he replayed the morning’s events in his head with a lovesick smile on his face. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who almost yells out when he hears a rock hit his bedroom window, finding you standing down in his backyard with a stupid grin on your face when he finally grows the courage to peer outside. His heart doing somersaults in his chest at the sight, at the thought of his parents finding you standing there as well — at the thrill of it all.  

Puppy-Love-Minho who can almost envision his own funeral as he manages to sneak past his parents’ bedroom to meet you outside, body tensed as he prays once again that nothing goes wrong. He can only breathe once you both make it outside the property, walking down the neighborhood — only then did he finally ask you what the hell you thought you were doing. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who huffs as you laugh at his anxiety, shoving you lightly though he had to look away to hide the smile that threatened to slip up. He listens intently as you apologize sincerely for getting him in trouble, and feels as though he might pass out as you pull out a kitty keychain out of your pocket and offer it to him. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who forgets to breathe when you step forward as you hand him his gift, keeping your eyes on his as you do so. Although he panicked at the thought of anyone in his neighborhood seeing him kiss another boy, he couldn’t pull away for the small hope that you would press your lips against his. 

Puppy-Love-Minho whose breath absolutely leaves him when he notices you slowly leaning in, your eyes on his trembling lips.

Puppy-Love-Minho who sees your short hesitation as you look up into his eyes, trying to read him, and closes the small gap between your lips in a small burst of adrenaline. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who could almost hear imaginary fireworks exploding in the background as his blood pumped through his veins at record speed. His hands find your waist so that he could pull himself closer to you in order to deepen the kiss, feeling himself becoming bolder by the second. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who feels your teeth against his lips as you laugh softly, somehow triggering shame to creep up as the weight of both of your actions finally settles.

Puppy-Love-Minho who immediately softens when you grab ahold of both of his hands and tell him that it was okay, that you didn’t mean to laugh — you just couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he felt the same way about you. He laughs at you, and tells you he’s the one who should be thanking his lucky stars for reciprocating his feelings. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who doesn’t want to let you go when you try to say goodbye; though he eventually does with a sigh when you promise you’d see him tomorrow at school.

Puppy-Love-Minho who doesn’t move from his spot until you were completely out of sight, waving at you every single time you turned to see if he’d gone back inside. Even after you were long gone he remained there, barely able to process the amount of thrill the last twenty four hours had brought to him. 

Puppy-Love-Minho who almost throws up when he realizes he needs to sneak back inside without his parents noticing, and he prays to his lucky stars that he can avoid getting caught. 

posted: 06 • 29 • 2024

💬 a note from green;

Thank you so much for this request! It was so much fun to write honestly but that might be because i accidentally got stoned out of my mind, and I really hope you enjoy this! Also, thank you for enjoying my other works, it really makes my day when I hear people tell me that. Hope to hear from you again!

( 🏷️ ) permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx

currently checking my pulse to make sure i’m still alive after this because…wow. i absolutely live for soft lino and this is something that’s gonna be burned into my brain forever and i’m pretty sure that’s not a joke. this is so beautiful, so tender, so endearing. might as well just have stolen my heart and ate it in front of me because again…wow.

Sweet Lee Know that wakes up before you just to cook breakfast for you before he leaves for his schedule.

Sweet Lee Know that leans his forehead to yours after he had a really long day "hi, my home, I missed you"

Sweet Lee Know that covers your eyes when there's a scary scene in a movie "I got you, my love." and takes his hand off when the scene is over "See, it's nothing to be scared about."

Sweet Lee Know that takes your hand and kisses your knuckles whenever you caress his cheek.

Sweet Lee Know that would kiss every imperfection you think you have on your body "I will never get tired of loving you. The whole you..."

Sweet Lee Know that cheers you when you try to learn his dance (but fail) and it ends up with him backhugging you "you should take my place in the band, you're better than me" (even though you know you're not).

Sweet Lee Know that comes to pick you up from work because he says he wants to spend more time with you. He just does it because he's afraid something will happen to you.

Sweet Lee Know that wears a hair elastic on his wrist because you always misplace yours.

Sweet Lee Know that cooks you chicken soup when you get a cold and kisses your forehead to measure your fever level.

Sweet Lee Know that feeds you the soup "I know, love, I know but just a few spoons, okay?" and he blows on the soup to make it colder.

Sweet Lee Know that is always the big spoon because he says you're small and have to be protected.

Sweet Lee Know that pretends to be tired when you're tired cause he knows you won't get some rest if he doesn't get some too.

Sweet Lee Know that kisses your forehead every morning "good morning, angel. I love you"

Sweet Lee Know that doesn't say "Love you." but instead he says "I love you." because the "I" means something.

Sweet Lee Know that pouts and frowns when he knows he'll leave for more than a week "Why aren’t you Tinkerbell so I can put you in my pocket, huh?"

Sweet Lee Know that knows he can't text you or call a lot when he's gone but he always sends a heart emoji so you know he's thinking about you.

Sweet Lee Know that keeps another bottle of your perfume and sprays it in the hotel room so he can cope with being away from you for so long.

Sweet Lee Know that stays glued to the crook of your neck when he returns "I missed you so much it hurt"

Sweet Lee Know that would want you to tell him every single tiny thing you did while he was away.

Sweet Lee Know that would caress your hair when you fall asleep at his chest "I want to feel you at my chest forever"

Sweet Lee Know that when he kisses you slowly, he cups your cheek.

Sweet Lee Know that kisses your eyes before you fall asleep "sweet dreams, angel. I love you"

Sweet Lee Know that loves to do your skin care routine cause he loves the way you giggle when he tickles your face.

Sweet Lee Know that sits you on his lap, hides your face in the crook of his neck and softly sings to you when there's a thunderstorm because you're afraid. When you flinch, he caresses your hair and hugs you tighter at his chest "shh shhh, baby, I'm here, it'll be over soon, just listen to my voice, okay?"

Sweet Lee Know that always wants you both sleeping naked because he says you're closer this way and he doesn't want anything between the two of you.

Sweet Lee Know that is afraid of heights but will climb the highest mountain if that's what it takes to get to you.

Sweet Lee Know that whispers to you every night after you fall asleep "I can't wait for the day I'll call you my wife."

Do not copy/modify/repost without my permission.

©️sometimesleeknows All rights reserved.

𖥻 sick baby

♡┊ 𝐂𝐇𝐐𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ; Lee Know

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 :: you’re sick and your lovely boyfriend takes care of you

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 :: sick reader, no proofreading :)

You’ve been sick since 2 days your fever won’t go down all you’ve been doing is laying in bed with multiple blankets and tea on your nightstand. You didn’t even text your boyfriend much because you’re asleep most of the thing which worried him which is why you suddenly woke up when you heard your front door open and slow footsteps coming towards your bedroom your fuzzy mind still wondering who it could be. Your blanket wrapped tightly around your shivering body when you heard the sweet voice of your boyfriend “why did you not tell me your sick baby?” he asked after sitting down on your bed right beside your shivering frame his arms pulling you closer to his warm body, you nuzzled your face in the familiar feeling of his body trying to seek more of his warmth before answering him “didn’t wanna worry you” you mumbled against his hoodie he just hums before getting up. You whine at the loss of his warmth which made Minho smile softly at you “where are you going” you pout trying to look angry but Minho only pats the top of your head “gonna make you some food you need to eat”.

Minho walked into your kitchen and started making you some soup while you waited patiently still snuggled up in your blankets, you didn’t notice that you fell asleep again until you heard Minho call out your name. He was carrying a bowl of soup and a cup of tea on a tray, you slowly sat up dragging your blankets with you. Minho puts the tray on your lap after making sure you’re comfortable. Minho sat down beside you softly rubbing your back as you ate talking to you in soft and low voice while telling you about his day while you just listened to him chuckling in between when he told you about the funny things that happened at dance practice. When you’re done you put the tray on your nightstand when you turn back Minho was already waiting for you to snuggle up in his arms again.

When you’re wrapped up in his arms again beneath your blanket to keep the heat inside your head on Minho’s chest listening to the steady beating of his heart while one of his hand plays with your hair as the other rubs your back in slow circles you feel him press a soft kiss on your head before falling asleep. The next morning you felt better thanks to your lovely boyfriend.

@gimmeurtmi here you go bub 🫶🏻

Thank you Precious 😭😭🥹🥹

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬-BangChan&Minho

A/N:Here we Go!But this are just bang chan and Minho the others will follow soon 

Genre:🌻 - Fluff

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐧:

You and Bang Chan had a Son his name is Jae he is 7 Months old.

You  where with Jae outside JYP waiting For Chris to come out.Jae was  giggling and babbling with his dummy in his mouth, he was sitting in his  stroller.

You giggle"Jae are you exited to see Daddy?“ He Giggle “Dada” You eyes got wide “What did you say Baby?”

Jae look to the door where Bang Chan was walking out.He points at him “Dada…” Chris came to you and gave you a kiss.

“hey  Baby how are you two?“You hug him "We are fine but…."Right as you where  about o tell Bang Chan what just Jae just said,Jae begins to whine  wanting attention form his Dad.

"Dada……Dada……Dada!"Chris looks  down at Jae and takes Jae from his stroller into his arms.Who am I  Jae?"Jae giggle and took his dummy out "Dada” Chris kissed Jaes whole  face you giggle “you two are cute…..but can we go Home and Cuddle how  does that sound?”

Chris nod and Jae babbled and squealed you chuckle “I take this as a Yes”

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 (𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨):

You wake up and groan you look at  your Daughter Yunai, she was sleeping in her crib.You where about to  stand up but something stopped you.

Arms pulled you back"Hmm.Jagi  where are going"You turned aroun and looked at Minho “I Wanted to make  breakfast” Minho pulled you closer to him.

You smiled and locked   up at him He smiled and kissed your Lips “Can i now get up please"Ge   groan "Fine” You smile and kissed him again.

You walked in the   Kitchen Minho followed you with Yunai in his arms she was on his   hip,her head was in his neck and she was  snoring cutely.Minho gave her head a kiss and sat down on the kitchen counter stool (does that make   sense..?i hope you understand what i mean)Yunai still in his arms.

You  begin cutting fruit for Yunai then you made Coffee for you and  Minho.“Minho can you wake YuYu up please?” He nod .“Yunai Baby wake up  breakfast is ready” She whine and look up at her Father Minho smiled at  her and sat her down in her Highchair she babbled loudly as she saw the  Plate full of fruit you set it down in front of her and got up again to  get the Coffee for You and Minho and sat down beside Yunai.She pointed  at the Strawberry Minho who sat on the other side hold up a  Strawberry “You want a Strawberry YuYu?”

She Giggle   “Strawberry…..” You look at her “Say that again Baby” She looke d at   you"S-Straw-b-berry?“ Minho gave her one and she happily chewed on it.

Minho looks at her "I cant belive her first word was Strawberry I thought it would be Mommy or better Daddy"You smile at him.

𖥻 distraction

♡┊𝐇𝐘𝐕𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 ; lee know

it was a long day at work the rain hitting your window in front of your desk. you let out a sigh, you where exhausted work tired you out more that usually. solution :: your boyfriend minho , he always made you feel much better. that’s why you where on your way to the dorm where he and his members live.when you left your work it started raining even harder you groan and took out your umbrella quickly opening it and walking the way you knew all to well.

holding the umbrella in one hand you searched your phone with the other hand after a few very frustrating seconds you found it in your bag quickly unlocking it and typing in the name of your boyfriend pressing on the call button waiting a few seconds for him to pick up.after a few rings he picks up his sleepy voice greeting you “ hey kitten what’s up “ you smile at the nickname “ love would you mind if I came over right now? “ minho could hear the pout in your voice he smiles at the thought of your cute face “ sure baby are you okay? “ he asked a bit worried.

you let out a small sigh “ just a long day im just exhausted “ minho chuckled “ awww baby how does cuddles and a movie sound? “ you smiled at the thought of cuddles “ would love that im almost there baby “ after you and minho said your goodbyes you put your phone away the sight of your boyfriends home making you speed up your steps, you knock at the door after a few seconds a smiling Minho opens the door to greet you quickly hug him tight. minho wraps his arms around you kissing the top of your head.

after you took of your shoes and hung up your jacket you went to look for minho again who went to make you something to eat.you walked into the kitchen seeing your boyfriend standing at the stove grilling some beef some noodles standing beside it on the stove you smiled approaching him from behind wrapping your arms around him.minho smiles turning the stove off and turning around pulling you closer you look up seeing him smiling at you. minho leans down to give you a sweet kiss on the lips.

after pulling away from the kiss you had a bright smile on your face “feel better baby?” minho asked softly touching your cheek with his hand you put your hand over his, closing your eyes enjoying his touch “wanna eat now baby dinner is ready “ minho said softly making you nod “yes please” you open your eyes looking at his pretty face mesmerized by his beauty you leaned closer giving him a small kiss. minho smiles and serves your dinner as you sat down on the couch waiting for him to bring you dinner. minho put down your food in front of you.

after you ate your food (which tasted amazing ) you got up, minho looks at you confused. after a few seconds you came back with a blanket you stole from his bed making him smile you lay down on the couch opening your arms inviting him to join you. minho smiles and quickly joins you pulling the blanket over you both. you turn around snuggling in his warm embrace smiling you look up at minho “ thank you baby for taking care of me “ you said putting one of your hands in his soft brown hair. minho smiles closing his eyes enjoying your touch “ anything for you kitten “ you blush slightly connecting your lips with his. minho pulled you even closer if that’s possible enjoying your boyfriends soft lips on your own.

𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱,𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦

Genre:

🌻 - Fluff

✔️ - Completed

~~~~~~~~~~~

LeeFelix

LeeFelix:Happy Anniversary My Love💜@ LeeY/n

Likes:152.470  Repost:56.730  Comments:684.327

LeeY/n:Aww Ily(∩˃o˂∩)♡

LeeFelix to @ LeeY/n: Ily2(∩˃o˂∩)♡

StrayKids4ever:They are so cute my poor heatreu

StayWithStrayKids: They are so cute together

BangChan:Cute💙

I hope you like It~

Ha-Neul~💙

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬-BangChan&Minho

A/N:Here we Go!But this are just bang chan and Minho the others will follow soon 

Genre:🌻 - Fluff

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐚𝐧:

You and Bang Chan had a Son his name is Jae he is 7 Months old.

You  where with Jae outside JYP waiting For Chris to come out.Jae was  giggling and babbling with his dummy in his mouth, he was sitting in his  stroller.

You giggle"Jae are you exited to see Daddy?" He Giggle "Dada" You eyes got wide "What did you say Baby?"

Jae look to the door where Bang Chan was walking out.He points at him "Dada..." Chris came to you and gave you a kiss.

"hey  Baby how are you two?"You hug him "We are fine but...."Right as you where  about o tell Bang Chan what just Jae just said,Jae begins to whine  wanting attention form his Dad.

"Dada......Dada......Dada!"Chris looks  down at Jae and takes Jae from his stroller into his arms.Who am I  Jae?"Jae giggle and took his dummy out "Dada" Chris kissed Jaes whole  face you giggle "you two are cute.....but can we go Home and Cuddle how  does that sound?"

Chris nod and Jae babbled and squealed you chuckle "I take this as a Yes"

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 (𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐨):

You wake up and groan you look at  your Daughter Yunai, she was sleeping in her crib.You where about to  stand up but something stopped you.

Arms pulled you back"Hmm.Jagi  where are going"You turned aroun and looked at Minho "I Wanted to make  breakfast" Minho pulled you closer to him.

You smiled and locked   up at him He smiled and kissed your Lips "Can i now get up please"Ge   groan "Fine" You smile and kissed him again.

You walked in the   Kitchen Minho followed you with Yunai in his arms she was on his   hip,her head was in his neck and she was  snoring cutely.Minho gave her head a kiss and sat down on the kitchen counter stool (does that make   sense..?i hope you understand what i mean)Yunai still in his arms.

You  begin cutting fruit for Yunai then you made Coffee for you and  Minho."Minho can you wake YuYu up please?" He nod ."Yunai Baby wake up  breakfast is ready" She whine and look up at her Father Minho smiled at  her and sat her down in her Highchair she babbled loudly as she saw the  Plate full of fruit you set it down in front of her and got up again to  get the Coffee for You and Minho and sat down beside Yunai.She pointed  at the Strawberry Minho who sat on the other side hold up a  Strawberry "You want a Strawberry YuYu?"

She Giggle   "Strawberry....." You look at her "Say that again Baby" She looke d at   you"S-Straw-b-berry?" Minho gave her one and she happily chewed on it.

Minho looks at her "I cant belive her first word was Strawberry I thought it would be Mommy or better Daddy"You smile at him.

Your Lovely Wicked Soul

Witch au, Reader X Bang Chan feat. Stray Kids (Narrator's POV)

Summary: Y/N is well known and beloved amongst the people of her home village. Being a powerful Witch, she helps the people using her Gifts to increase crops, heal the sick, and protect the townsfolk and other favors. When her Grandfather sends her away to save her from the misfortune of becoming the awful King’s bride, he sends her across worlds into the hands of a man bearing an uncanny resemblance to the tyrant King.

Dhornna= Familiar of a Witch that manifests from the Witches powers in the form of an animal. They speak only when they deem necessary.

~Prologue~

“Take this twice daily to increase your vitamin intake. You’re with a child, so it's important that you stay healthy for the baby as well. I know it does not taste to your liking, but you cannot keep ‘forgetting’ to take it just because you don’t like it.” Y/N hands the mother-to-be the herbal mix with a stern look as she walks her to the exit of the small clinic that has doubled as her’s and her Grandfather’s home for the last nearly 21 years. On Y/N’s first birthday, her parents were killed by bandits while traveling to visit a neighboring village. Her Grandfather then took her in to raise her in her parents stead, training her to become the amazing Witch she is today.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! I feel so much more at ease knowing that you’re here to help me through these trying times.” The woman, named Gailee, responds with absolute relief. She is only two years older than Y/N, but she is already married and expecting her third child. She turns to put down Y/N’s Cat Dhornna, Nolai, and grabs the medicine pouch from her hands.

“I’m glad that you find comfort in my care this time around as well,” Y/N smiles, “I can’t wait to meet this little one! Something tells me you’ll be getting that little girl you’ve wanted.” Y/N giggles at the older woman’s reaction, her eyes going wide with glee and excitement. Being a Witch ment Y/N’s gender predictions were always correct, so the woman knows there is truth to the statement.

“REALLY!” Gailee exclaims. “Oh thank the stars! My little Ramson and Lornick are so rambunctious! I was worried I would be stuck with another boy just like them! Now I’ll have a little girl who will be soft with me!” Gaile embraces Y/N with appreciation, then turns to stroke Nolai’s head, and leaves.

Y/N sighs as she closes the door behind the pregnant woman. She turns and looks at her Cat Dhornna with a small smile and asks him, “Do you think I’ll be married soon, Nolai?” The Dhornna simply blinks at his master and gives a small, uninterested meow. Y/N shakes her head at the Cat, not surprised by his response, and heads to the kitchen to begin preparing for dinner. 

Y/N is grinding up some herbs for the chicken when she hears her Grandfather coming in from the back garden. “I’m here in the kitchen, Gaba!” she calls out.

“How was the appointment?” he asks with a conversational tone, walking into the kitchen sink to clean the dirt off his arms.

“Gailee is doing great, and her baby is healthy also, you can feel her kick in there!” Y/N says with a small smile on her face. Her Grandfather watches her happily as she goes on about how soon the village will see the joy of yet another baby this year. He absolutely adores his Granddaughter, for she is all he has left. He watches the light of the setting Sunstar from the window play with her eyes, her unusually colored eyes, the only visible indication of how powerful a Witch she really is.

“You do such a great job, Y/N. I’m sure your parents are beaming with pride amongst the stars at how wonderfully you’ve grown.” He steps forward to embrace her. Y/N never knew her parents, but according to her Grandfather, they were very powerful Witches as well, and held great standing amongst the Witch community. Witches are not common but are well known, and villages often rely on the help of a Witch’s Gifts for crops, medicine, protection, and other favors they may be inclined to request, although some Witches powers can go above and beyond those capabilities. “I have received a letter from the Royal Circle to inform us that someone from the Circle will be visiting us tomorrow at evetime. I think they are coming here to seek you out to be part of the Witch Society.” he finishes before stepping back and placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders with a distraught look on his face.

The Witch Society is a group of the seven most influential and powerful Witches in the Kingdom, assigned by the King when he is crowned. The current King, unfortunately, is a tyrant who finds enjoyment in taking lands for himself and killing anyone who denies him anything he wants. Despite knowing this, many Witches still covet the positions of the Witch Society. Y/N is not one who is willing to follow the malicious King, for she knows that the King is demanding that the Witches of the Society use their Gifts to practice in the Dark Spells. The Dark Spells are a dangerous thing to practice, and each Spell casted from the Dark Spells shortens a Witch's lifespan, if it doesn’t kill them right then. Which is why King Talmas is looking for his fourth replacement since the start of his reign eight years ago.

Y/N shakes her head in denial, defiance in her features, “No! I will never work for that nasty tyrant who is unworthy of being called King!” Y/N’s Grandfather knows she hates the idea of working for a man willing to hurt his own subjects for his own personal gain, but he still convinces her to be cordial with their guest for tomorrow evening. Even so, he already has an idea for if things go as bad as he had foreseen for tomorrow.

~

The next morning, Y/N and her Grandfather wake with the rising Sunstar, and begin to prepare for the expected guest to arrive. While Y/N leaves to get what will be needed for dinner, her Grandfather stays behind to “tidy up the clutter of their home”. What he is really doing is preparing for what he knows is to come. Y/N’s 22nd birthday is in only 89 days, and on that day, a truth will be revealed to her that will put into motion a grand change to their world. He knows that she will be mad at him for a while, but she will come to forgive him when she understands the necessity of his actions. 

Y/N’s Grandfather, Lessio, is a rarity amongst his kind, a male Witch. Of the small population in the Kingdom of Trysolia, only six percent are Witch, and of that six percent, less than about one percent is male. And Lessio’s son, Alstar, was also a Witch. Alstar fell in love with Y/N’s mother, Ailynn, another Witch, who possessed vast power and knowledge of Spells. The pairing was rare due to the sheer number of female Witches to the small number of male Witches, and most, like Lessio, married regular human women in hopes to increase the chances of a son, even a non-Gifted one. Lessio was one of the lucky few. As a result of the pairing, Y/N was born to become one of the most powerful Witches in history, although she has yet to fully come into her powers, Lessio knows it’s only a matter of time. So he knew this day was coming. The day when members of the Royal Circle would seek her out. Lessio tried his best to postpone this inevitable event by moving Y/N to the small village called Old Stone Village, on the outskirts of the Kingdom, and raising her incognito. Being a Foreseer Witch, he knew what was to come, just like with his son and daughter-in-law. But this time he wasn’t going to be too late.

Y/N arrives back from town with what she needs for dinner, and a light lunch for her and her Grandfather, a little before noontime. She calls her Grandfather to come in from the back entrance to eat. After eating, they finish up the house work and Y/N goes out to meet her best friend since they were toddlers. Ember is a Witch as well, her mother is Witch and her father a human.

“Y/N!” Ember calls out when she sees her approaching the makeshift shelter they made using the trees when they were eight. Truthfully, Y/N did most of the hard work, much to Ember’s disdain.

“Ember!” Y/N runs up to her friend, Nolai running ahead to greet Ember’s Rabbit Dhornna, Makil. Y/N always loves spending time with her only friend growing up. Being the only Witch children in the village, they could understand each other how no one else could. So many memories made here in the trees they grew together. They had used their Gifts to intertwine the branches together well above their heads and around them, to shield from the Sun and harsh weather. Y/N hugs her friend and stands back with a smile. “I brought some of the herbal fruit tea blend your mother loves. I know your parents anniversary is in a few days, so your mother can make this for your father.” Y/N finishes with a bright look in her eyes, handing her the large jar of ground up, dried herbs and fruits she pulled from her Storage Cloak. The Autumn weather is cold so both girls have on cloaks and fur boots over their lady pants.

“Oh, Y/N,” she giggles, “you’re always so thoughtful! I’m so thankful to have you as my friend!” Ember pulls Y/N in for another hug. The girls then walk into the shelter to sit and converse comfortably, while their Dhornnas play together.

“How are you enjoying working with children?” Y/N asks her friend. Ember began working in the school to help nurture the minds of the children by making learning more entertaining for them using Spells. It was an idea presented by Ember at the community meet earlier this year to improve the learning rate of the children who seemed to be having trouble focusing. Many of the community members agreed instantly, but a plan needed to be established on how to use Spells to aid in the learning process for the children.

“It's going great! Now that we finally got our plan into motion, we are seeing great results!” She beams.

“Our plan?” Y/N’s brow raises questionably at her friend.

“Oh. Um... Erinnek and myself. He’s a brilliant man with revolutionary ideas. We’ve been working hard to get this idea in motion and we’re both really proud!” Ember finishes quickly with a slight blush on her cheeks.

“Uh-huh. And could the reason my best friend is getting flustered over mentioning this ‘Erinnek’ man be because she has developed somewhat of a liking for said man?” Y/N asks, her voice going up in octaves at the end to taunt her friend. Ember’s violet eyes go wide, and her face and neck flush scarlet at the mention of her possible feelings towards the older man she has been working closely with these last several weeks. Ember blushing was always Y/N's favorite Ember face, because it always highlighted the freckles on her face, lighter in color now due to the Autumn season. Y/N always envied Ember her freckles.

“I’ve told you! It's not like that! I simply have a deep respect for his intellectual outlook on matters!” Y/N can’t help but laugh out at her friend's reaction, making her friend chant a quick Spell to send a brief gust of wind just strong enough to ruffle up Y/N’s long, silky tresses.

“Hey!” Y/N laughs, wordlessly returning the gesture in kind. Y/N’s Gifts advanced beyond needing to use a chant to cast Spells a few years back. An astonishing feat which few Witches accomplish, and it gathered the attention of some of the Witches from the neighboring villages.

Ember laughs, and asks, “Is there anyone you like, Y/N?”

Y/N stops to consider her friend’s question. As she thinks about it, she realises that she has never really developed that sort of relationship with anyone of the opposite sex. She was always so busy helping with the sick and tending to the lands with the villagers and helping her Grandfather with any crazy, new Spells he wanted to try. And of course training. Y/N was already very powerful by any standards, but her Grandfather always told her that she has so much more potential than even he could imagine. She went along with it, even though she thought he lost his mind while trying to count the stars.

“No.” Y/N finally answers after a few moments of silence had passed while she pondered her answer. “I haven’t really interacted with anyone in that manner so I can’t say that I see myself with anyone in that sort of setting.”

Ember watches her friend and feels sad for her that her life has not been her own. “Well, I’m sure there is some handsome man out there waiting to capture your heart, Y/N. Look at you! You’re Stunning!” Ember arms gesture towards her friend in a wordless attempt to help her see her beauty. Y/N is tall for their kind, but still small by normal human standards. Her curvy body is slim and toned in all the right places from the multiple jobs she takes on, working her body in different ways. She has long, thick, flowy hair that reaches her hips and frames her form wonderfully. She has beautifully shaped lips, and delicately arched brows set above striking and unusually colored eyes. Ember sometimes envied Y/N for her eyes.

Y/N lets out a snort. She was always told that she is beautiful, that she looks exactly like her mother but with different eyes. “We’ll see how your theory plays out after tonight.” Y/N then turns to her friend with a serious face, “Gaba received a letter yesterday informing him that we are to be welcoming members of the Royal Circle. It does not state specifically who we are to be expecting or for what reason they come, simply that they will be here this eve.” Y/N finishes when she sees the questioning look on her friend's face.

Ember inhales and exhales audibly. She knows her best friend’s views on how the Royal Circle is currently operating. And Y/N would rather take her own life than to be forced to work for the awful and selfish King. “What are you going to do?” she asks, “You can’t decline him. Everyone knows what happens when he is denied what he wants.”

Y/N hangs her head, her heart feeling heavy. “I don’t know.” she states, sounding slightly defeated. “I know of all the things he has done, but I fear what will happen to Gaba if I run away. He is too old to go on the run and go into hiding.”

Ember hugs her friend in an attempt to comfort her, her heart reaching out to her best friend. She cannot imagine the turmoil Y/N is feeling at this moment, nor did she envy her in this instant, for she shares Y/N’s views on the corrupt Members and their King.

Ember finally releases Y/N and looks her in the eye, “I’m absolutely positive that your Gaba has something planned so you don’t have to live that awful fate.” she states reassuringly, stroking back some of Y/N’s hair. “Your Grandfather cherishes you too much to allow you to burden yourself with the weight of someone else’s malicious will.” Y/N looks up and smiles at her friend. Before she has the chance to respond to her encouraging words, the sound of a horn pierces the early evening air, indicating that the members of the Royal Circle have arrived in the village.

“Well that’s my sign telling me to head home before the Members arrive at my door.” Y/N stands and readjusts her cloak around her. Ember stands up to embrace her friend, then it dawns on Y/N. “This may be the last time I see you for a while,” She whispers to her friend. Both their hearts clench in pain at the idea and they tighten the embrace.

Ember is the first to reluctantly break the hug. With teary eyes, she looks at the greatest friend in the world and says, “I don’t think so. You’ve been stuck with me for almost 20 years, you’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She attempts to laugh but it comes out as a soft sob.

Y/N strokes her friend’s cheek and smiles warmly. “I’m absolutely sure about that as well. You’re my Star Mate.” With that, the girls say their farewells and head to their respective homes. Y/N runs all the way and makes it in time for the Members to arrive.

Y/N and her Grandfather both wait in their front lawn walkway while the carriage comes to a complete stop and is prepared for the members of the Royal Circle to exit. While it is being prepared, a man on a black stallion rides up to them and dismounts.

“Where shall we store our horses?” the man asks Lessio. Y/N’s Grandfather guides the man and a few others with horses to the small stalls that housed your horse and Grandfather’s Horse Dhornna, Maize, and helps them get their animals situated and returns in just in time for the Announcer to make the introductions.

“Announcing the King of Trysolia, His Royal Highness Talmas!” the man in royal red announces as the King descends the steps of the coach. Y/N eyes widen at the announcer's words.

‘What is the King doing here himself? Just for me?’ Y/N thinks to herself. It was almost never heard of for the King to leave his castle. It's unnerving for Y/N to see the King here himself, and it is her first time meeting him. He is young, only having been 15 when he ascended the throne, and undoubtedly, very handsome, with thick, curly locks of dark hair styled back to reveal a strong brow over piercing, brown eyes. He has a sharp, prominent nose and full lips with a perfect Cupid’s bow. Y/N may have fallen for him based on looks alone if she wasn’t already aware of his horrid personality.

The King steps away from the coach to allow three other persons to exit, three women. The man in red announces that they were Members of the Witches Society, Y/N forgets their names as soon as they are spoken. She is too focused on trying to keep her mind from wondering and thinking up worst-case scenarios.

After the Announcer finishes the introductions of each person in the coach, Y/N’s Grandfather steps forward to speak, “Welcome, Your Highness. This is quite the unexpected visit, to what do we owe the honor?” Y/N’s Grandfather speaks the question circling her head as well.

“Well, I heard that there was an extremely powerful Witch living on the outskirts of my kingdom and decided to have a look myself.” he says in an irritably attractive voice. He turns his head toward Y/N and looks her up and down. “And I’m glad I did. This little Witch is quite stunning.” he finishes with a dimpled smirk that Y/N would’ve found attractive if it were not for the words that accompanied it or the man who wore it. “I see the tales I’ve heard about your eyes are true. Although seeing them for myself, I’m still in disbelief at how strikingly beautiful they are to behold. You must be a very powerful Witch indeed to have eyes this rare in color.” His voice laced with something Y/N could not identify.

Y/N clears her throat to speak, “Thank you. I have dinner prepared for you and your party if you would like to eat. I made duck with potatoes, carrots, and onions with an autumn themed sauce.” She tries her hardest to hide the discomfort the King gives her with his leering eyes.

“I would be more than honored to eat your home cooked meal. We have been on the road now for three days to reach this village. I’m sure our stomachs will be appreciative.” The King states. Y/N nods and ushers the King and his entourage into her small home followed by her Grandfather.

Y/N’s Grandfather allows for the King to take his seat at the head of the table and takes the one on the other end. His party takes seats around the table, a guard on either side of the King, two of the females on one side and the other on the other side. Y/N is thankful that there is enough seating, with eight people to seat, one more person and someone would be stuck standing while eating. Y/N takes the duck and vegetables out to the table and goes back for the bread rolls and chilled tea she made earlier that day, then takes her seat on her Grandfather’s right. After dinner, the King requests that the business they came for be conducted in the sitting room. Everyone follows Y/N’s Grandfather out of the dining hall and into the sitting room. 

Once everyone is seated, one of the members of the Witch Society begins to explain their reasoning for their visit so far out from the comforts of the capitol. “We came here today to recruit Y/N into the Witch Society. We’ve heard many stories about what she has accomplished and, knowing her lineage, we know she would make a great addition to the Society in serving the King to better our Kingdom.”

“How would you know if I would be a great addition if you are not even certain of what Gifts I possess? For all you know, I could simply be able to communicate with animals or make plants grow.” Y/N states with purpose, her stubborn streak showing. “And in what ways, pray tell, are you and the King improving our kingdom? By denying the people the medicine that they need? By demanding they turn over all their crops and animals and leaving them starving through the winter?” Y/N finishes with heavy sarcasm lacing her tone and a fake smile on her face.

The King simply smiles at Y/N’s display at stubbornness, seeing it as a challenge he will gladly accept. “Y/N, I’m simply doing what I see fit to make sure my kingdom profits.” he states nonchalantly, like he is making a comment on the weather, then adds with more interest, “Plus, anyone could tell just by looking at the unusual color of your eyes that you’re no ordinary Witch, but one who possesses tremendous power. And I fully intend on having you as part of the Society,” King Talmas smirks upon seeing Y/N’s glare fully focus on him, “or as my wife.” he adds before she can respond, chuckling when her expression changes to one of complete shock.

“Your Highness, is that an offer?” one of the Members asks, a hint of disappointment in her tone.

“Oh, I never say what I don’t mean and always want what I say, especially on my birthday.” King Talmas says, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s face as she throws mental daggers at him. “The Kingdom doesn’t have a Queen, why shouldn’t it be a powerful Witch like Y/N? With a Witch like you by my side, I could expand my rule beyond the current borders with little resistance. And you could help me further by expanding my life span.” He finishes with a cocky tone.

“I do believe I will have to decline your offer. I have no interest in being a member of your corrupt Witch Society, nor do I desire to be married to a tyrant that plays with the well being of his people for his own personal gain. And lastly, I will not allow you to stay in my home and continue to speak to me as though I am an object to be used at your disposal. So I suggest you leave while I am asking kindly.” Y/N manages to maintain a steady tone despite her inner fury.

Everyone in the room is taken aback at Y/N tone towards the King. There are murmured responses from the other guest like “Is she stupid?” or “The audacity to deny the King in such a manner!”

The King narrows his eyes at Y/N, clenching his jaw and flexing it to show his distaste with her response. “Very well. I have no second thoughts on doing this the hard way. Forcing you should be easy enough. Take her.” the King demands of the guards.

Before they can complete their first step toward Y/N, her Grandfather casts a Spell to bring everyone in the room to a stand still to buy time to get his granddaughter out of there. “Hurry, Y/N! It won't take long for the Members to break the Spell and come after us!” He grabs her arm and leads her out the back door, Nolai following close behind. Lessio is one of the other few Witches of their time that is able to cast Spells without the use of a chant.

“Gaba? Where are we going?” Y/N questions when she sees her Grandfather leading them into the woods. The cold air makes their breaths visible in the waning light of the LunarEarth. Y/N is thankful she remembered to grab her Cloak before being led out the back door.

“Just trust me, Y/N. I’ve planned for this.” is all he responds. Y/N is slightly shocked at his response but doesn’t press further while he leads her through the woods. They walk for several minutes before coming to a clearing. The clearing seems to have an odd pattern at the center of it. “Take this book.” Lessio hands her a large book wrapped in elk skin. Y/N’s eyes widen when she realizes that it is his Grimoire. “Please stand in the center of the clearing, and grab your Dhornna.” Y/N places the Grimoire in her Storage Cloak and does as he asks. Picking up Nolai, she quickly walks to the center of the odd patterns. As she walks through, she attempts to make out the patterns she sees on the ground, but in all her studies, she’s never seen this combination.

Once at the center, she turns to face her Grandfather. As soon as she makes eye contact with his steel grey eyes, he puts up a barrier around her to keep her there. 

“What?!” Y/N exclaims, reaching her hand out towards the barrier, only to have it push her hand back. “What are you doing, Gaba? I’m scared!”

“I’m sorry, Y/N!” her Grandfather calls from the edge of the circular pattern, “I have to do this. This is the only way I can protect you and put you on the right path. I’ve always known you were destined for great and amazing things, but not here while that tyrant is after you. I hope you know I’ll always love you.”

Y/N eyes begin tearing up as realization dawns on her. He is sending her away. Away from her home, from her friends, from her life, and, worst of all, from him. Her only living kin. The one person she could always rely on. She fights back her tears and asks, “Where are you sending me to?”

Her Grandfather shakes his head, “I cannot say, only two people have travelled there before but didn’t live to tell of what was there. But I know I'm sending you to someone I know can help you.” Before Y/N could ask more questions, they heard the voices of the guards and Members approaching them. “We’re out of time! I’m going to begin the Spell!” Her Grandfather begins the Spell and light starts to come out of the patterns, which, unfortunately, helps lead the King and his entourage to find them.

“HERE THEY ARE!” One of the guards shouts. Soon the whole squad is surrounding them, followed by the Members and, lastly, the King.

“Thought you could get away did you, little Witch?” the King says with disdain in his voice. “You’re not being as obedient as I had originally hoped you’d be, but that's fine, I like a challenge.” King Talmas then instructs the head of the guard to command them to shoot down Y/N’s Grandfather.

Y/N sees the guards all raise their bows with arrows and aim them towards her Grandfather. “NO!” she exclaims, then wordlessly casts a protection barrier around her Grandfather, just in time to deflect the arrows already flying at him. “Gaba, let down the barrier! I’ll go with him!” Lessio ignores her and continues the Spell, even as arrows hit the barrier Y/N has up. “GABA! DON’T! HE’LL KILL YOU! I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN!” Y/N shouts out, tears beginning to overflow freely. The pattern begins to glow brighter, indicating that the Spell has been initiated.

Lessio turns to his beloved Granddaughter to look at her one last time, giving her a smile filled with all the love and warmth he holds for her, “I will always love you, Y/N. I’m proud of who you have become. And I know you’ll change the world.” Y/N feels her barrier falter as the Spell begins to pull her away, giving out just before it can stop an arrow from hitting her Grandfather in the chest. The Spell finally pulls her through with great force, but not before she witnesses two more arrows hit her beloved Grandfather.

“NO! GABA!” Y/N yells just as everything goes black.

Only a brief moment passes before Y/N feels her body thrown down onto a hard surface, it gives out and collapses beneath her, causing her body to hit another surface just as hard. Y/N groans and sits up, rubbing her backside. She opens her eyes to be met with eight curious faces staring at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hi! I really hope you all enjoyed this Prologue to my first fanfic! There is so much more to look forward to, so I hope you all stay until the end!

But you belong to me.

“did we make it?”

“…yeah. yeah, we did.”

“stray kids everywhere all around the world,

you make stray kids STAY!”

happy birthday to STAYs everywhere ily guys 🫶

YOOOOO

(just woke up to a pleasant surprise lol)

skz on top fr cause they kept SLASH in their general style and sung most of the song in korean even tho its for a western movie. i love them sm im so proud omg

STREAM SLASH NOW!

"shit, the boys need me for the album...i'll text you later, jagiya❤️"

danceracha in their final evolution stage (i want a cover of the nicki minaj ice spice aqua barbie girl remix)

in all seriousness dont do that, instead keep yourself safe guys

that’s what they mean 😭