request: “Maybe you could do another one for Bang Chan? Something with friends to lovers and "I can treat you better, just let me”? You can change the phrase if you need to!“
a/n: i think i got carried away with this one bc of how much i enjoyed writing it lol. i hope this is close enough to what you wanted and that you enjoy it!
feedback is deeply appreciated!!
Oh my, you did it again
Thank you so much for fulfilling my request, dear! It came out beautifully
A wolf’s scent is their main identifying characteristic. It’s used to form bonds with packmates, is useful in determining friend from foe, and above all else, identifies you as you. Being sick can mess with your natural scent, and when you start to feel unwell, not only do you no longer feellike yourself, but now, to add insult to injury, you don’t even smelllike yourself. Not to worry, because a little flu bug is nothing in the face of your caring packmates.
Or the SKZ!pack sickfic we didn’t know we needed.
Tags: SKZ, SKZ Drabble, OT8, OT8 x you, OT8 x reader, SKZ!pack, SKZ!abo, ABO, Alpha beta omega dynamics, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, Poly!SKZ, Bang Chan, Seo Changbin, Lee Minho, Han Jisung, Hwang Hyunjin, Lee Felix, Yang Jeongin, Kim Seungmin
Genre: Fluff, Comfort
Warning: Mentions of vomiting and general sickness
Title: Smell Like You
“Are you okay, noona?” Hyunjin slides into the chair next to you at the kitchen table where you’re currently slumped, head resting on the cool wood.
You crack open an eye and glance at the omega, concern written all over his sharp features.
You shrug half heartedly and manage to straighten up, glancing down at the books spread over the table, your required reading nowhere closer to being done than when you started.
“I think so? Just tired I guess.”
You note the way Hyunjin’s nose wrinkles, as if he’s smelling something slightly distasteful, and the concern in his eyes only grows as he stares at you.
“Are you sure? You smell kinda-”
“What?”
Hyunjin shrugs, and you feel the way a headache is starting to form, slowly throbbing, behind your temples, probably because you’ve been studying all day and haven’t tried to drink anything close to enough water.
Minho would nag if he knew.
“-off.” Hyunjin supplies lamely, as if he doesn’t know how else to describe it.
You sigh, the light from the kitchen suddenly a little bit too bright. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”
Hyunjin won’t stop staring at you, and the worry in his eyes is feeding into the way he chews on his bottom lip.
You reach out and cover his fingers with your own, and the cool feel of his skin is relieving.
God, you feel hot.
Hyunjin’s eyes widen slightly at the touch. “Noona, you’re really hot.”
You offer him the hint of a teasing smirk, all that you can muster, and pat the back of his hand, tired voice gaining a playful lilt.
“Ah thanks, Jinnie. That’s so sweet of you to say.”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes at your joke, and then his expression sobers again, lips pulling into a thin line. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not getting your rut are you?”
“No.” Your voice comes out sharper than you intended, the honey glaze scent of lemon bitters slightly in response to your tone. You sigh and soften your voice, squeezing the omega’s fingers affectionately within your own. “No, I promise, baby. I’ve been tracking carefully since last time and I’m not even close.”
Your body is achy and suddenly, exhaustion is washing over you like a wave. Everything protests as you push back from the table and force yourself to stand.
‘I’m okay, Jinnie. Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix.” You offer him the slight shadow of a smile. “Goodnight, baby.”
He waves you off, the concern still evident on his features, but the sweet smell of glazed lemon now back in the air.
“Good night, noona. Sleep well.” ***
A good night’s sleep doesn’t fix it.
In fact, if anything, it only makes everything worse.
When you manage to crack open your eyes against the harsh morning light, the first thing you notice is that your head is pounding and you feel like you’ve been hit by a truck.
The second thing is that the burning sensation of bile is rising rapidly in the back of your throat and a wave of nausea is rolling over you so violently that it sends the room spinning.
You stumble out of bed, covers tangling around your legs, and make a dash for the bathroom, where you promptly vomit into the toilet.
You slump down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor and try to force yourself to breathe, but the nausea hasn’t let up, and your headache is worse than before, your mouth filled with cotton, throat dry and burning.
You don’t make it five minutes without curling back over the toilet and dry heaving violently.
By the time the nausea has subsided enough for you to push yourself to your feet and drag yourself back to bed, you’re out of breath and your whole body is on fire, trembling violently.
You collapse back onto the mattress and groan as your body aches in protest.
Cracking open an eye, arm thrown over your face to prevent some of the light from aggravating your headache, you manage to roll over enough to grab your phone from the dresser and pull up the pack’s group chat.
The bright light from the screen makes it hard to type out your message, but you squint through the pain and send out a quick text.
Me: I’m so freaking sick. I’ve been puking my guts out. I’m going to quarantine in my room until it passes so I don’t give it to any of you.
You drop your hand back limply to the bed, phone still in your fingers, and close your eyes, breathing in slowly through your nose and out through your mouth, trying to force yourself to ignore the roiling feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Your phone dings, the sound loud and your head pounding reflexively, and you manage to open your eyes enough to see the responding text.
It’s from Jisung.
It’s always from Jisung.
JiJi: O no!!! That sux! I’m so sorry noona!!! What can we do???
You manage the hint of a smile at his concern, and think about responding, but the effort sounds like too much, and a new wave of nausea is building in your throat, so, phone still clasped in your fist, you hightail it to the bathroom once more.
This time, when you vomit into the toilet, it’s mostly water.
Slumping back against the bathroom vanity, you swallow hard a few times, trying to wash away the taste of last night’s dinner and your phone vibrates once more against the bathroom tile, forgotten in your urgent plight for the toilet.
You force yourself to open your eyes and in weak, trembling fingers, open up the text chat.
It’s Chan.
Channie: You’re not going to be alone while you’re sick. That’s why we’re a pack. Minho is going to make you some broth and toast and Changbin is gonna run to the store for some Gatorade. I’ll bring you water and painkillers in just a sec.
Thank god for the head alpha, you think, as you unceremoniously drop the phone-feeling all too heavy-from your hold once more on to the bathroom floor.
You momentarily ponder the idea of getting back to your bed, but with the way your legs are trembling just from sitting and the way the idea has the room spinning even just at the thought, you decide against it, instead, lying down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor, cheek pillowed on your arm.
You sigh at the instant relief the cold tile gives against your flushed, hot skin, and close your eyes simply because they feel too heavy to keep open.
You don’t know how much time passes-could be seconds, could be hours-while you lie on the bathroom floor, but the next time you open your eyes, Chan is crouching down in front of you, dark concern written clearly across his pretty features.
Your body instantly relaxes in relief as you catch sight of the other alpha, the small room already filling with the smell of incoming thunderclouds, your headache easing-just slightly-at the familiar scent.
“Channie.” You whimper out, and your wolf all but practically whines at the sight of him.
“Hey, baby.” The head alpha replies with a gentle, comforting hint of a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before eyeing your current position on the bathroom floor, lips pulled into a thin, concerned line. “Can you sit up for me?”
You instantly shake your head, your headache flaring anew at the motion.
“I don’t think I can.” You whisper out, your voice pathetically tiny, the room already spinning with just the slightest motions of your head. “Channie, I can’t-”
Chan sets aside the water bottle and container of painkillers you hadn’t noticed he was carrying and reaches out carefully, his cold palm covering the fiery skin of your forehead.
“Shit, baby, you’re burning up.” He remarks, voice low, worry flashing anew in the dark caramel of his irises. “We need to get you up and get some painkillers in you. We’ve gotta bring your fever down.”
Every inch of your body protests at the notion, the nausea slowly creeping back in at the thought of moving.
Chan must notice the distress in your scent, because he leans over, fingers looping carefully around the hot skin of your wrists. “C’mon baby. Just try, okay? I’ll help you.”
You reluctantly allow him to help tug you up into a semi sitting position, back against the bathroom vanity, and even the small movement has you panting for breath, limbs trembling violently.
And just as you expected, the nausea comes back in a new violent wave, full force, and you’re once again leaning over to vomit into the toilet.
Chan slides to sit behind you and rubs your back comfortingly as you dry heave again and again.
Once the nausea has subsided, you sit back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and let your head fall back weakly against the other alpha’s shoulder, eyes closing of their own will.
Chan loops his long arms loosely around your waist, legs stretched out on either side of your body for support, and leans around you to retrieve the forgotten water bottle and pain killers.
“C’mon baby. You need to get these meds in your system.”
The thought of drinking water and trying to swallow pills with the way your stomach is currently heaving has you shaking your head, even as Chan carefully presses three of the small white pills into the palm of your hand.
“I can’t, Channie.” You whine beneath your breath, cracking open an eye to glance up at him, the cold water bottle pressing against your skin. “I’ll just throw them back up.”
Chan’s brow creases, his eyes darkening with concern, and then something akin to fierce determination takes its spot as he raises your hand for you, helping you fit the pills between the slot of your lips.
“Baby, you’ve gotta try.”
You reluctantly do as he says, letting him place the painkillers on your tongue, and raise the water bottle to your lips. It takes effort, but you manage to swallow them and keep them down, along with a small sip of water.
Chan sets aside the water bottle once more and raises a hand to card his fingers through your sweaty, matted hair.
“Good girl.”
Your mouth and throat feel dry and burned, even though you’d just taken a sip of water, and your body suddenly feels too heavy to control, eyes already closing with exhaustion.
You thank god for the other alpha, because you don’t know if you’d be able to keep yourself up at this point.
Chan noses against the skin of your bared throat, his own wonderfully cool in the face of your raging fever, and his arms tighten affectionately around your waist as he lets out a soft chuckle at your long sigh.
“You can’t sleep here you know.” You manage to crack open an eye and look up at him, the amused smile currently tugging at the corner of his lips.
“I could, if you would be quiet.” You groan out, body already sinking into Chan’s hold and the cool bathroom tile.
Chan chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest, and traces his nose over your scent gland.
The renewed smell of petrichor does more for your aching body than the painkillers ever will.
“Hyunjin said I stink.” You pout sleepily because you can’t help yourself. You’re tired and achy and being safe in Chan’s hold is making you lose your inhibitions, not to mention, you feel as if you’re floating, halfway delirious with the way the heat has overtaken your body.
Chan laughs again and presses a gentle kiss to the flushed skin just below your jawline.
“You don’t stink, baby. Being sick just messes with your usual scent a little, that’s all.”
You whine, but don’t open your eyes. Sleep is already threatening.
“But I don’t wanna smell different. I wanna smell good. Want you to like the way I smell, Channie.”
Chan chuckles, low beneath his breath, and ignores your whine of protest as he removes his arms from around your waist, already tugging you upward with him.
“I know. C’mon, baby. Let’s get you back to bed.” *****
You don’t know how long you sleep.
It’s all frankly just a heat induced haze, broken up by frequent dashes to the bathroom when the nausea becomes too much.
Chan’s pills help, they do, but not enough to make you stop wishing for death.
When you finally do manage to reenter the world of the living, you crack open your eyes and groan.
You feel like you’ve been hit by a bus.
You fling an arm over your face, noting through your still sleepy haze that your skin feels cooler to the touch, and manage to roll over, gaze settling on the nightstand.
It’s full of half empty bowls of food that you vaguely remember Jisung trying to get you to eat, and barely used mugs filled with liquids that Felix had brought, and you don’t remember who, but at some point, someone had tucked you back in after you’d kicked off your blankets in your heat induced rage.
You reach out a hand for your phone, but think better of it when even that motion has the room spinning, letting your arm drop back weakly to the mattress.
You roll over and stare blankly at the ceiling, every muscle screaming.
God, you hate being sick. Not to mention you miss your packmates. Wolves don’t do great with being alone.
Your wallowing in your misery and post sick induced disgust is interrupted by the sound of the door opening, and as the wave of amber hits your nose and Minho appears at the edge of the bed, your wolf has you reaching out for him with grabby hands, already whining for his contact.
Minho arches a delicate brow at you and stays put.
“You’re gross.” He points out needlessly, and you groan, shutting your eyes and once again throwing your forearm over your face.
“Thanks.” You reply weakly, voice raspy and hoarse from disuse.
Minho’s fingers loop around your wrists and tug, and you grumble at the insistent contact.
“C’mon, sweetheart. We’re getting you in the shower. And then the omegas are gonna come change your sheets.”
You squint at him as panic feels your gut at his words.
The thought of leaving the bed has the lingering nausea flaring again and the room tilts dangerously as you shuffle to a semi sitting position.
You’re already breathing a little too hard.
“I don’t know if I can.” You admit softly, not meeting his gaze, your body weaker than it’s felt in days. “I really don’t think I can, Min-”
You yelp slightly as Minho’s arms swoop underneath you and pick you up from the bed in one smooth, easy movement. He offers you the hint of a smirk as your arms go around his neck in a flurry of panic.
“I’ll help.”
He carries you to the bathroom, arms still looped around his neck, and this close, your face buried in his chest, the smell of amber and bergamot is overwhelming, soothing your aching muscles and instantly making you feel better.
Minho sets you down gently on the closed lid of the toilet and you watch with half interest as he leans into the shower and turns it on, testing the water with splayed fingers. When he’s satisfied, he turns back to you, arching a brow.
The thought of having to tug your shirt over your head is sending a headache pounding once more into your temples.
Minho sighs, rolling his eyes, but his mouth is soft, giving him away, as he crosses back to you and gently tugs your shirt up and over your head, crouching down in front of you to do the same with your pants and socks.
When you’re undressed, he pulls his own t-shirt up and off, and noticing you staring with slight confusion, offers you the hint of an exasperated look.
“You can’t even undress yourself, sweetheart. How’re you gonna wash yourself without help?”
You hate it, but he’s right, and so you reluctantly let Minho help you stand and step into the warm stream of the running shower.
He pulls the shower door shut behind him and steps up to you, arms looping around your waist, letting you sag back against his chest, holding up the majority of your weakened, dead weight.
You close your eyes and tilt your head back, reveling in the way the warm water soothes your tired muscles, washes away the stink of being sick, the smell of vomit clinging to your skin.
It’s invigorating. Makes you feel new again.
Minho rests his chin on your shoulder, and when you open your eyes and glance at him, he’s watching you, a slightly amused smile pulling on the full skin of his upper lip.
“Feel better?”
You nod eagerly, careful not to shake your head too quickly and make yourself dizzy as you breathe out, “Yes. Thank you.”
Minho huffs something between a laugh and a grunt and reaches around you for the shampoo.
“Can you manage to hold yourself up while I shampoo your hair or is that too much to ask, sweetheart?” He holds up the bottle for you to see, a slightly patronizing, teasing smirk on his lips.
You nod and reach out for a hold on the shower walls to steady yourself as Minho slips his hands from your waist and squirts a generous dollop of shampoo into the middle of his palm.
The shower fills with the scent of lavender.
Minho’s fingers find purchase in your hair and he carefully starts to massage the shampoo into your scalp as it foams, and you can’t help it, you close your eyes and relax back into him once more, letting out a sigh.
It feels so good-to be clean, to have Minho touching you, to not feel like you want to puke your guts up at any given moment.
Minho is meticulous, swirling the shampoo over every inch of your head, fingers firmly tangling into your wet hair, and you swear, you almost fall asleep as he continues his gentle ministrations, only stirring when he finally drops his hands and pushes you back into the stream of water with a gentle bump of his hip.
“Rinse.”
You do as you’re told, and Minho gets out first, holding up a dry, fluffy towel for you as you step out of the warmth of the shower.
The bathroom air is cold, the tile freezing beneath your feet, and you shiver as he wraps you up, wet hair dripping onto damp skin.
Minho notices and pushes you toward the door, making sure you can make it back into the room on stumbling feet before he’s satisfied and releases his hold on you.
When you glance back at him, he’s sporting an affectionate half smile, eyes warm as he towels off his own dripping hair.
“Go on. Get back in bed. Hyunjin’s gonna be thrilled you smell like you again.”
****
“You smell like you again!”
Hyunjin is indeed thrilled that your scent is back to normal and you giggle as the omega buries his face in your neck, rubbing his nose up and down the freshly washed skin there.
You’re both tucked under the safety of your clean comforter, and you’re cozy and warm and it’s a nice change to the heat that has licked your skin for the past few days.
Now you just feel content, wrapped in Hyunjin’s arms and an overly large hoodie that belongs to Changbin, cuddled beneath the clean sheets of your bed.
“I’m glad.” You breathe softly, pressing a kiss to the omega’s head, your body starting to feel heavy with exhaustion.
Your eyes close on their own, and you can feel yourself sinking into sleep-good, restful sleep-unlike what you’ve gotten the last few days.
“Noona?”
You hum in response to Hyunjin’s sudden query but don’t open your eyes as he shifts closer to you, leg thrown over yours, head on your chest, nose still buried in the skin of your throat.
“Are you feeling better?”
You sigh and reach up blindly to bury your fingers in the soft strands of his hair.
The room smells like lemon and just the hint of freshly bloomed wisteria.
Being in a pack is basically the antonym for jealousy right? You all share each other, with each other, all the time. Wolves are possessive, but they’re not prone to jealousy, of all things. Humans, on the other hand. Well. That’s a different story altogether.
Tags: SKZ, SKZ!pack, stray kids, ot8, ot8 x you, ot8 x reader, SKZ x you, SKZ x reader, ABO, A/B/O, Alpha Beta Omega dynamics, bang chan, seo changbin, lee minho, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, han jisung, yang jeongin, kim seungmin
Genre: Fluff, Light Smut
Title: Jealousy, Jealousy
You’re not a jealous person. You’re not.
But watching the pretty, little omega flirt with Minho across the bar has something heavy and sour settling into the pit of your stomach against the ominous growling emanating from your suddenly engaged wolf.
Minho isn’t flirting back of course, simply offering half a smile in response to her animated words, and in fact, you know him so well you’d say he almost looks bored, glancing past the omega to your waiting drinks
The knowledge does nothing to quell the sudden pang of jealousy eating you up from the inside out.
She laughs, you catch the tinkling high sound over the bustle of the other patrons, and then her hand is touching his arm as she leans in, looking up at him as if he’s said something extremely funny.
You know that move. It’s the oldest one in the book.
You’re out of your seat before you can think.
The omega looks caught off guard, kohl lined eyes going wide, lips parting, as you appear at Minho’s side, hand going down on his arm where hers had just been moments before, as if to wipe away the trace of her.
You see the moment she catches a whiff of your scent-cold and floral-her wolf perking its ears in interest.
Alpha.
She suddenly looks smug, pleased with herself, as if you and Minho are going to fight for her attention, two alphas at her disposal.
You don’t even spare her a second glance.
“Minho.” You say sharply beneath your breath and the other alpha glances at you curiously, one perfectly manicured brow raised. You tilt your chin toward the door. “Can we go? Please?”
The omega visibly wilts.
Minho, on the other hand, looks entirely too satisfied as you shift uncomfortably beside him, fingers still curled around his arm.
He’s figured it out.
Thankfully, he doesn’t point it out, instead, patting the back of your hand where it rests on his arm-a little bit sweet, a whole lot sarcastic-and offers you a smile bordering too close to a knowing smirk, eyes sparkling with hidden mirth.
“Of course, sweetheart. Let me just say goodbye to my friendhere-”
You don’t miss the teasing, taunting lilt to his words, and your wolf growls in response.
Your fingers flinch into his skin and Minho glances down to where your hand has now turned into a claw, digging into his forearm.
The smirk has yet to leave his face.
“Or not.”
You hate that he’s seen right through you, know the ride home is going to be living hell, that he won’t let you live this down easily-it’s Minho for god’s sake-but he also doesn’t give the omega a goodbye, let alone another glance, and so maybe, just maybe, the inevitable hassling will have been worth it.
Besides, you learned long ago that when it comes to Lee Minho, you have to take the small victories where you can get them.
******
“I swear, this should be classified as cruel and unusual punishment.” Jisung groans, sitting next to you at the kitchen table, pausing in his chopping to complain to whoever will listen.
You note offhandedly that while your pile of chopped vegetables has grown significantly, Jisung’s is still miniscule in comparison.
“My hand is cramping.” The beta whines, as if none of you heard him the first time, stretching his fingers for maximum effectiveness.
“Yah. Han Jisung.” Minho turns from the stove and holds his dirty spatula menacingly above the suffering beta’s head, a dark glower on his pretty features. “If those vegetables aren’t minced by the time I need them in five minutes, then it’ll be your head on the chopping block next.”
“Hyung.” Jisung whines, widening his eyes pleadingly, but Minho gives him no sympathy, expression steely, before he turns back to the bubbling pot on the stove.
Jisung huffs and glances toward the hall, where Chan has appeared, keys in hand. The beta brightens immediately upon seeing another potential victim for his cause.
“Hyung.” The beta whines, long and low in his throat, and Chan pauses in his route to the door, head alpha raising its head at one of his packmate’s obvious distress.
However, he takes one look at Minho, standing menacingly behind the whimpering Jisung with a spatula, and grimaces, offering said beta a sympathetic look.
“Sorry, Jisungie. Gotta go to the studio.”
Chan disappears a little too eagerly as the sound of a door slams down the hall and Jisung rolls his eyes, resuming his chopping with a grumble and a long sigh of “coward” beneath his breath, which you can only guess is aimed toward a certain head alpha.
It’s silent for a moment, the sound of chopping rhythmic and lulling, the pot bubbling merrily on the stove, Minho singing something low and indistinct beneath his breath.
Changbin appears, standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking as if he’s just come from the gym, and the smell of ash mixed with sweat is suddenly strong as he regards the three of you sagely.
“What’re you making? And how’d you get Jisung to help?” He asks, eyebrow raised, addressing Minho, as he nods toward the still pouting Jisung sitting at the table, dutifully chopping a carrot.
“He threatened him.” You reply back, reaching for another potato, as Jisung shoots you a dark glare, taking way too long to matchstick a piece of celery.
“Ah.” Changbin nods like he gets it, amusement clear on his face.
“Yah. Seo Changbin.” Minho turns his frown on the newly arrived alpha now, and Jisung looks as if Christmas has come early. “Are you going to eat what I make tonight or what?”
Changbin has the decency to look slightly regretful, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck as he suddenly avoids the other alpha’s pointed gaze.
“Sorry, hyung. I gotta stick with shakes. New regiment and shit.”
You and Jisung both groan simultaneously at that, and Changbin looks caught off guard by your reactions, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.
“God, please don’t tell me you’re gonna put chicken in it again, hyung.” Jisung exclaims, sinking back in his chair and eyeing Changbin like he’s just grown another head, lips pulled down in obvious disgust. “Anything but that.”
“I’m like 96% sure Jackson was joking when he told you that, by the way.” You add, making a face, as you think about Changbin and the slop he and his workout buddies call smoothies.
“Hey.” Changbin protests, waving between the two of you. “Don’t knock it till you try it.”
More echoed groans, and Changbin looks suitably offended.
Jisung gets up from his spot at the table and crosses the kitchen, dumping his vegetables-finally chopped-into the pot that Minho is still carefully stirring. He leans over, putting the sharp jut of his chin on Minho’s shoulder, and instantly pulls a face.
Minho shoots him a glance, expression blank.
“God, hyung, you smell weird.” Jisung takes another long sniff and covers his nose dramatically, stepping away from the alpha, miming retching as he returns to the table to plop back down beside you. “Did you get a new cologne or something?”
“Probably smells like the friendhe made at the bar.” You can’t help but grumble beneath your breath, the poor potato you’re chopping into bite size chunks taking the brunt of your sudden aggression.
Your knife hits a sharp staccato against the cutting board.
“What was that, sweetheart?” Minho turns from the stove, one brow raised in challenge, clearly having heard what you said, giving you another chance to reconsider what you’d said.
You offer him a saccharine, innocent smile, so sweet you feel like your teeth are rotting.
“Nothing.”
Minho hums under his breath approvingly and nods and with one last, long look, returns to the stove, the air suddenly saturated with the sharp spice of amber.
Beneath your knife, the potato splinters into mush.
*****
“Okay, hyung, truth or dare?”
You’re sitting in the living room, the movie playing quietly in the background long since forgotten, when Jeongin turns to Minho, eyes wide and expectant.
Minho rolls his eyes. “Are we in fourth grade? Why do we have to play this?”
“Just answer the question.” You shoot back, matching Minho’s glare as he finally gives in and waves for the youngest omega to continue.
You’re still slightly on edge from earlier, but being surrounded by the smell of oranges as Felix cuddles back against you, sitting entwined on the couch, is helping some.
You reach up and idly run your fingers through the omega’s soft, blonde hair, holding back an affectionate smile as he arches into the touch of your hand like a needy cat.
“Fine. Truth.” “Boooooring.” Jisung calls out from across the room, not looking up from the game he’s playing on his handheld, Hyunjin eagerly watching over his shoulder.
“Okay. Truth.” Jeongin repeats with a wicked glint in his eye, rubbing his hands together, as if he’s prepared to completely reveal all the truths that make up the enigma that is Minho with just one question.
Minho takes a long sip of his soda as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Whose scent, out of all of us, do you like the most?”
Minho returns the can to the coffee table and sits back, looking completely at ease.
“Easy. Felix.”
Felix grins and blushes in your arms. “Ah, thanks, hyung, that’s really sweet.”
Jisung, however, chokes on his spit from across the room and levels Minho with a shocked look so convincing that you almost believe he’s hurt.
“Yah, what about me?”
Minho smirks. “What about you?”
Jisung mutters something under his breath that sounds an awful lot like cursing Minho’s name and his entire existence, and Hyunjin pats him sympathetically on the head as he sinks back into the end of the couch.
The game goes on like that for a while, a lazy back and forth between your packmates, the room a combined, comforting cocktail of everyone’s scents, making you sleepy, and your eyes are heavy, and you’re almost ready to call it a night, Felix warm and heavy in your arms and practically asleep himself, when Minho drops the bomb.
“(Y/N).”
You glance up at the other alpha, and the mischievous, wicked glint in his dark eyes puts you instantly on edge, hackles rising.
“Truth or dare?”
You’re way too tired to entertain even the thought of a dare, so you answer back immediately, “Truth.”
Minho grins, teeth and expression suddenly sharp, and dammit, you realize too late that you’ve fallen right into his trap.
“Would you say that you’re the jealous type?”
You refuse to play his game.
Keeping your expression blank, you reply simply, “No.”
Minho arches a brow, and his lips part, and he’s so smug you wanna wipe the smirk right off his pretty face.
“Really?” He hums beneath his breath, faking a thoughtful expression, eyes never leaving your own. “Would you care to explain to me what happened earlier then? In the bar? When I was making new ‘friends’?”
The use of your earlier word, confirming your suspicions that he’d heard exactly what you’d said in the kitchen, has you pushing a caught off guard, sleepy Felix into Changbin’s arms and standing up, expression carefully schooled.
“I’m going to bed.”
The air is so heavy with the scent of frost now, you’re surprised you can’t see the cloud of your own breath.
Minho catches up to you in the hallway.
The smell of sharp amber gives him away just before his fingers loop around your wrist, spinning you smoothly to face him, your back slamming up against the closed door of your room as his hands go on either side of your head, effectively caging you in.
So close to safety, yet so far.
“What was that, hm?” He questions in a low voice, head cocked, irises swirling, the expression on his face telling you he already clearly knows exactly ‘what that was.’
“I don’t like being the butt of your jokes, Minho.” You hiss out, staring him down, fingers digging into your crossed forearms in an attempt to remain in some semblance of control.
“I’m afraid I don’t know what joke you’re referring to, sweetheart.”
Your wolf snarls, insistent he’s still making a fool of you, and the frost creeps back in, chilling the air around the two of you.
“Please.” You scoff out, trying to cover up the hurt with anger now, your voice wavering slightly. “Don’t play stupid. You knew what you were doing when you asked that question back there.”
Minho’s brow arches, and his lips quirk slightly, his obvious nonchalance only serving to infuriate you more.
“And what exactly was I doing?”
You look away from him now, because you can feel the tears burning, threatening, and you don’t want him to see you cry.
Damn being an angry crier. Damn it all.
“Making fun of me.” You mutter bitterly, lower lip clenched firmly between your teeth, the scent of amber souring slightly now where it brushes your skin. “Because I got all weird at the bar seeing you with that strange omega and then you-”
Minho leans into your space suddenly, catching you off guard and effectively shutting you up, and you’re surprised, when you look up, to see the sudden, swirling gold creeping into his gaze.
“Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.” He practically tsks, and you feel like you’re a kid who’s gotten caught with their hand in the candy jar.
Minho sighs, a long suffering sound, and you almost expect him to pinch his nose between his fingers in a show of frustration.
Instead, he leans closer, so that his lips are practically brushing yours with each word he speaks, and a crooked smirk lifts the corners of his mouth, revealing sharp, pointed canines that have your gut clenching up in sudden need.
“I wasn’t joking. About you or anything else.” He practically purrs, letting one of his hands slide off the door and down the column of your throat, fingers splayed against your collarbone like a choker, finger tips barely tracing your scent glands.
He looks entirely too pleased when your breath audibly catches in your throat.
“Then why did you bring it up?” You question, slightly breathless, and curse your body for betraying how attracted you are to Minho in this moment.
God, he’s pretty.
Minho chuckles, a low rumble in his chest accompanied by a fresh wave of spice, and the sound sends warmth flooding through your traitorous body to all the right places.
He tilts his head, studying you heatedly with a molten copper gaze.
“Because, sweetheart,” His full lips quirk into the hint of a self deprecating smile.“As much as I hate to admit it, I guess I find it practically intoxicatingwhen I’m the reason you struggle with your composure.”
Your mouth drops open, and Minho closes it again with one slender finger under your chin.
You have to remind yourself to breathe.
“So you get off on seeing me a mess.”
Minho chuckles again at your blunt words and raises a brow, wetting his lips as his tongue darts out to slowly trace over the outline of his plump mouth, watching the way you follow the motion, teasing you.
“Basically, yeah.”
“God, I hate you.” You breathe out, not meaning it in the slightest, as you tug him to you and slot your mouth with his.
“I really don’t think you do.” Minho murmurs back in between frantic kisses, his fingers tangling into your hair and tugging your head back, angling your lips for better access.
“Shut up.”
You waste no time in slipping your tongue into his mouth and your fingers curl into the material of the hoodie he wears, the air practically heavy now with the mixed smell of your scents.
It’s easy to blindly reach behind you and turn the door knob, letting you both into the dark, quiet of your room, easy to stumble backward toward the waiting bed, fingers still tangled in the front of Minho’s sweatshirt, easy to strip him in the pitch black, fumbling with layers of clothes, hands tracing the lithe, toned lines of his body, skin warm beneath your fingertips.
Minho takes his time, it’s something you’ve always admired about him, the attention to detail he uses when slowly but surely taking you apart, piece by piece, inch by inch.
“What do you want, hm?” He whispers against the column of your throat, nips with his teeth, traces deliberate fingers over your aching scent gland, revels in the way you arch up into him. “Tell me, sweetheart.”
It’s an easy enough question, with an obvious enough answer.
“Make me a mess.”
Minho grins, all sharp angles and white teeth and golden irises, and rolls his hips against your own, and you know he’s got you right where he wants you, knows in the way your fingers tremble as they tangle into his hair, in the way the scent of wisteria spikes, tangling with the sharp notes of amber.
Minho leans in, taking in the way you’re panting, squirming beneath him, practically begging him silently, and raises a brow, before nipping lightly along your mating mark as if it’s a promise of things to come.
you excitedly dragged changbin, your boyfriend of nine months with a blindfold to his birthday surprise. he tried to act mad that he had to wear a blindfold but his smile said otherwise and you told him it’d be just a few more minutes. “happy birthday binnie, you can take off your blindfold” you reach to hold one of his hands. changbin was soon surprised to see a picnic set up just for two with a cake wishing him happy birthday. “i remember you said you always wanted to watch the sunset on your birthday, so i thought this would be a good way to do it” you blushed, shifting from foot to foot. changbin could barely contain his emotions, stepping forward to hug you tightly and to set his head in your neck to leave little kisses. “this was the best birthday gift ever princess, thank you so much” he whispered as he hugged you tighter”
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
“Do you want a drink? Some water?” The blonde man asked as soon as you sat down on his double bed, flatscreen tv illuminating the dimly lit room.
“No thanks, I’m okay,” you responded with a soft smile as you reach for his hand to pull him down on the bed beside you but he resists.
“Some chips? I’m sure we have some,” he tries and you roll your eyes in response, tugging harder at his hand so he has no choice but to give in and drop down on the bed beside you.
“We already have popcorn, Felix. We don’t need chips,” you tell him.
“Oh,” he pouted, “I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable,” he mumbles, causing you to coo at the man in front of you, wrapping your arm around his waist and snuggling into him from your sitting position.
“I am, Felix. This is perfect,” you reply and he smiles at that, his eyes lighting up as he looks down at you, happy with himself. He moves so that the two of you are laying more comfortably in his bed, keeping you close to his side before gently laying a blanket over your forms. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, hand laying on his chest as he pressed play on the movie although you weren’t paying much attention to the movie. The steady rhythm of his heart put you at ease as he started to play with your hair, teasing his fingers along your scalp. “Mhm, that feels nice,” you whispered.
“Well I had to do something to wake you up,” he chuckled, the deep sound reverberating through his chest.
“I wasn’t asleep,” you laughed.
“Just say you think I’m boring,” Felix jokes, lip jutting out playfully.
“You are the furthest thing from boring, Lee Felix,” you argued, turning to face him. He leaned forward with a smile, giving you a quick peck before pulling back to look into your eyes.
“What are we supposed to tell our children when they ask us how we met?” Felix questioned, fully serious. You snorted.
“You mean we can’t tell them you haunted my apartment and constantly tried to murder me?” you joked.
“I didn’t try to murder you!” Felix exclaimed in mock offence. “Plus, it was my apartment first,” he added. You rolled your eyes at the boy’s words.
“We won’t need to worry about that anyway for at least fifteen years,” you smiled sweetly.
“Fifteen? That’s so long away,” he cried.
“This is nice,” you commented.
“What? Us fighting?” he replied. You purse your lips and take a deep breath in, reminding yourself to keep calm despite your heightening blood pressure thanks to your wonderful boyfriend.
“I’ll hit you, I really will,” you mumble and he laughs in response, eyes resembling crescent moons crinkling at the sides. Cute.
“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll stop annoying you,” he playfully begs.
“Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep,” you stated, trying your hardest to send him a glare but failing upon seeing that mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Okay then, how about this,” he nodded. “I promise I’ll be here with you for as long as you’ll have me, even if death do us part.”
“So corny,” you grimaced. “But so cute.”
“Can we watch this movie now?” the blonde man asked. “I’ve been wanting to watch this since before I died,” he explained. You nodded, letting out a soft laugh as you lay back down against him, his warmth immediately putting you at ease. Felix loosely wrapped his arms around your form, laying his chin atop your head as he focused his eyes back on the movie.
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
a/n:this is kind of the official last part, there’ll be a drabble at the end to give more insight into y/n’s and Felix’s relationship but that’s basically it !! Thank you all for the support, I really love hearing that people enjoy my stories ! Hope you have a good day
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
Meeting Yongbok for the first time felt odd, to say the least. He walked in, sticking close to Chan as his eyes surveyed the room, landing on you. He flashed you a small smile and a polite hello before doing the same to Taehyun.
“Did you tell him what we’re doing?” Taehyun questioned flatly, turning his attention from Yongbok to Chan.
“Uh, no,” he answered, unsure of what Taehyun wanted him to say.
“Good. It’s easier that way,” Taehyun nodded. You glanced over to Yongbok who you assumed would at least have some type of reaction to being talked about but he just simply stood there. An empty depth to his dark eyes. “Yongbok, I’d advise you to sit down for this.” Yongbok blinked at Taehyun and Chan reached for his hand using it to guide him down on the leather couch. You stared at Taehyun as he moved around, taking candles from around the room and placing them down on the floor beside Yongbok, eyes following every move as you still stood from greeting your newest guest. “Y/n can you turn the lights off?” Taehyun requested.
“You need the lights off to do your witchy shit?” you questioned as you flicked the switch, plunging the room into darkness. Taehyun rolled his eyes at your words, not that you would see before lighting a candle.
“No, but it gives the room a nice vibe,” he voiced. “Are we ready?” Taehyun inquired, lighting the last candle and you had to admit, the warm flickering light made you feel somewhat at ease knowing what was coming.
“As we’ll ever be,” Chan sighs as he grips Yongbok’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Taehyun let his eyes slip closed as he drew in a deep breath, the candles almost seemed like they were reacting to the movement as their flames swelled as he took the breath in. Taehyun stood above Yongbok who stared up at him wordlessly, he placed a hand atop the blonde’s head, the man closing his eyes softly in response. The psychic began to mumble something under his breath, too low for you to make out as you and Chan stared, eyes wide. The room grew cold, so much so that you felt a shiver run up the base of your spine. The room seemed darker now, the light terminating from the candles only reaching so far. All of a sudden, Yongbok’s head drops and his body slumps. Taehyun gives no reaction at all but Chan goes into a frenzy. His eyes are wild as his hand leaves Yongbok’s to go to his neck to feel a pulse. Judging by the red creeping up the base of his neck and dark stare on Taehyun, he wasn’t able to find one.
“What the fuck man, you killed him!” Chan screeched. “He’s already been dead once!”
“If you don’t stop whining like a teenager I’ll make sure he stays dead,” Taehyun mumbles, eyes remaining shut. Chan’s face reddened further and he pursed his lips like he was about to say something else but chose not to. But you couldn’t help but notice the prominent vein on his forehead, a telling sign that he was holding himself back from jumping the poor psychic. Taehyun sighs as he lets his hand drop back by his side, finally opening his eyes.
“What the fuck are you doing? Wake him up!” Chan exclaimed, feeling dumbfounded as his friend lay lifelessly beside him.
“It’s done,” was all he said, taking a step back. Chan was about to scream more profanities at his coworker but those words died on his tongue when he noticed Yongbok’s fingers twitching.
“Yongbok?” Chan asks quietly, a stark contrast to the tone he had taken not one minute ago. His hands go to his friend’s shoulders, gently shaking him. A smile overtook his face when the man responded with a slight groan, slowly cracking his eyes open. The blonde straightened up before looking at the man sitting beside him. He couldn’t even get a word out before Chan was attacking him in a bear hug. “It’s you, you’re back,” Chan spoke, voice quivering. The other man responded by wrapping his arms around him, comforting the now sobbing man. You felt yourself release a breath you didn’t even realise you had been holding, watching the scene with fond eyes. It was him.
Felix broke apart from the man with a low chuckle although when he turned to you, you could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry. His deep brown eyes met yours and they looked different now, like a warmer shade of brown. You weren’t sure what his reaction would be, would he want to talk to you? Or would he just rather go on about his life without even remembering this whole mess ever happened in the first place? So you stayed still, waiting to see what he would do. Noticing your hesitancy, Felix stood up from his seat on the couch, leaving a sobbing Chan on the couch who gratefully took a tissue from Taehyun. You could hardly process the time from when he stood up to when he enveloped you in his arms, fingers getting lost in your hair as he held you as close as he could.
“Thank you so much,” he whispered into your hair. You closed your eyes and let yourself feel the feeling of him. His warmth. He was actually here and it felt too good to be true. It felt too safe, wrapped up tightly in his arms. He let out another whispered thanks into the crown of your head before placing a small kiss there. Pulling away, you saw that his eyes were glassy and you couldn’t help but appreciate his beauty properly for the first time. His skin was dusted with a light covering of freckles, mostly around his eyes and nose. His eyes were big and they seemed to sparkle in the dim light, although that may be thanks to unshed tears.
“So, what now?” you asked quietly. Even after pulling away from the hug, Felix let his arms linger around your waist, the feeling making you feel slightly lightheaded.
“What do you mean?” he responded, eyebrows raised slightly in question.
“The apartment, we’ll have to figure something out. I mean there’s the guest room so we both could stay here or i-” you rambled. Felix cut you off before you got carried away.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he commented.
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I feel like that’s moving a bit too fast in our relationship. I want to do this right,” Felix smiled, light pink testing overtaking his cheeks. You almost choked on air.
“Our relationship? Do this right?” you repeated slowly, making sure that you weren’t mishearing a single syllable.
“Yeah, you do feel the same way, right? Or were you smiling at your phone like a fool whenever I text for another reason?” he smirked, although that soon turned into a devious grin as your cheeks began to heat up and you had no idea what else to do than smack him lightly on the chest.
“I wasn’t!” you exclaimed. Felix simply chuckled in reply, spinning so that he was facing Chan and Taehyun, the former wide his jaw slacked as he stared at the two of you. His eyes darted between the two of you in confusion.
“How do you- when did you-” he tried but gave up, shaking his head in defeat. “No, you know what, it would be you to fall in love with a ghost,” Chan rolled his eyes and Felix let out an unattractive snort from beside you. Your eyes widened, eyebrows raising as you took in your best friend’s words.
“And what do you mean by that?” you tested, Chan simply stood there with an amused grin on his face.
“Calm down baby,” Felix interjected as he lifted a hand to pat your head, you knew he was joking by the tone in his voice but that didn’t stop your mind from running wild as your gaze dropped to the ground with an awkward chuckle.
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
word count:1k
notes: I’m so sorry about these short chapters and for having so many written ones but I’ve been really busy with college work since its the end of the semester but I just wanted to get something out :)
That was the question Chan had asked and it sounded simple, but you all knew that that would be far from the truth.
We need Youngbok.
Taehyun replied. It was something that Chan had been expecting but fearful of nonetheless. Involving Yongbok was difficult, to say the least. His parents had him more or less locked down inside their house because he couldn’t go long periods of time without fatigue, thanks to his spirit being far away from his body. Even getting permission to go out to lunch with his friend had been difficult. Yongbok’s parents were lovely people and they hated keeping him away from his friends, or fun in general but they were extremely cautious of him, scared that any little thing could set him back in his recovery process.
At first, Yongbok had been mute. The days after he was released from the hospital and allowed to return home had been torture for his parents. They would watch, day after day, hoping for something to change but he would simply sit there with an emptiness in his eyes, not letting out a single noise. Slowly, he began to improve but that emptiness persevered and it irked them to no end. He wasn’t the same person that had been so excited to share such an important moment in his life. Now, Yongbok could do simple tasks, and he seemed to enjoy helping out around the house. But his energy would soon deplete and he would cave into himself, wordlessly pushing his way past his parents to go to his room where he would sleep for hours. The separation of body and spirit took a toll on both halves, while Felix held the emotional burden of leaving everything he knew and loved behind, Yongbok held a more physical burden, his body would long to connect with its spirit but could never quite reach it, it was tiring and it was evident from the look in his eyes.
The responsibility of retrieving Yongbok and bringing him to your apartment fell on Chan. And with a huff and not much else, Chan disappeared down the hallway of your apartment, ready to use his charms to convince Yongbok’s parents to release him into Chan’s care.
With Chan gone, an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Taehyun was sitting on the armchair across from you staring into nothing. You checked your phone again, hoping that your ghost friend would take your mind off the slightly creepy psychic, but, alas, nothing. You chewed on the inside of your mouth as your leg bounced up and down and you tried to distract yourself from your current situation but all that you could think of was him, Felix, or Yongbok as everyone knew him as. A question nagged at the back of your mind, coming to the surface once again: What would happen when Felix was alive again?
You couldn’t deny that that question scared you. You had become so accustomed to having another person in the apartment with you, even if they were technically dead and you couldn’t even see them. Felix had become a sort of comfort person to you, weirdly enough he was the person you spoke to the most, not even Chan had him beaten on that front. But, was that his choice? Would he even want to speak to you if you weren’t helping him? You weren’t saying he was using you or anything, no. Rather, just simply doing the decent thing, because he was a decent person. Lee Felix is everything anyone would want in a partner and as much as you tried to ignore that fact because it was so wrong, you just couldn’t. He was kind, like when he would use threats to find a way to speak to you and ask you how your day had been, constantly asking about the craziest stories you had from delivering pizzas because he knew you had many. He was thoughtful, like when he would see you freaking out over where you had left your keys because you could swear you left them on the kitchen counter he would remind you that he had placed them on the keyholder beside your front door after you had haphazardly thrown them on the couch the night before. He was funny, like when you would easily find yourself laughing along to his stupid jokes or find it so adorable how obviously flustered he would be when you would flirt with him, you could just imagine his cheeks growing red and an awkward smile overtaking his lips. And, he was attractive, something you had only recently found out when looking into his past. His features were almost ethereal and if you had time to appreciate them when you first saw him in person then you would have.
There were so many times when you should catch yourself thinking, I wish I had someone like him. But no matter what, he was unobtainable and also dead, it was that simple. Or, it had been that simple until you found out that Felix wasn’t as dead as your first thought. You couldn’t help but think if you had become as important to him as he had to you and whether he would even want to be friends after.
The vibration of your phone broke you from your train of thoughts and when you looked you saw Felix’s name on the screen. Your heart felt lighter at the appearance of his name, almost as if he had read your mind and had come to remind you that he was still here.
Are you okay?
The message read and you felt like a lovesick teenager when you had to hold back a smile at the fact that he had noticed your brows furrowed in deep thought. It was nothing special but it definitely felt as though it was when he said it. You nodded your head with a small smile, sure that Felix would see it. But a smile couldn’t quite conceal your sullen demeanour.
-> in which, maybe you should have trusted that old realtor who had told you your new apartment was haunted. Lee Felix was bored just simply existing, it was time that he had a little fun tormenting the mortals.
a/n:this has to be the longest chapter i’ve ever made whoowee
matching outfits with the style icon himself??? YES PLS SIGN ME UP RN. this mf LOVES to take you shopping and pick out some of the most random things. you’ll end up trying on a lot of gag outfits that just make you giggle at each other and how dumb you look but then they’ll be the time when you both pick out something cute for the other to wear. bro you guys need to have at least three sets of matching outfits in your closets, it’s a must for him. he loves just walking out in the street, holding your little hand in his, silently showing you off to the world as you guys wear matching shirts, etc. as a joke one time you bought him matching ‘i’m with stupid’ shirts and although he laughed and said they were dumb when you first showed them to him, you catch him wearing them around the house all the time.
a (incomplete) collection of voicemails on a phone that hasn’t been charged for over a year. // if i could have this entire thing in italics i would but i won’t. anyways, something a bit different imo. idk how i feel about it tho yikes warnings: implied reader death; please do not read if that will potentially put you in a bad mindset. ; alcohol wc:1.3k
[ 11:23am ]
“hey, y/n. it’s me. i know you probably won’t hear these-”
an exhaled breath of laughter.
“‘probably’? i know you won’t. you never used to check your voicemails, anyway, but- but now you really never will.”
floating through space (and a pile of junk) — lee felix.
: STRAY KIDS; husband!felix x fem!reader
: fluff.
: 1.3 k
: nothing except bad writing and bad title, no proofreading, also there’s one mention of the reader being shorter than Felix ♡
“You’re supposed to be cleaning!”
“In my defense, who cleans during the night?”
You huff, trying to snatch the polaroid camera Felix found in one of the cupboards away from him. “And in my defense, you’re busy all day. You know how much I hate cleaning the cupboards.”
Felix laughs, setting the camera aside he helps you get the remaining stuff out, then proceeds to grab a cloth to dust the shelves. Quite frankly, you feel like a terrible wife for making Felix work more after he’s already busy with tour preparations, but you’ve got no choice — you start sneezing up a storm at the slightest contact with dust, and you aren’t really gifted in the height department either. Neither is Felix, but he can, at least, reach the top shelves better than you could.
this is a fic i had been working on for a while before my uh,,,ahem, relapse, so I never got to publishing it. it’s still not done and i don’t know when exactly it will be, so i thought i’d give a lil sneak peek just for funsies until it is to be published in its entirety. nonetheless. have fun reading. i miss you guys. not sure when i’ll be back quite yet, but i love you all <3
“What about now?” you asked. “Still want to eat me?”
“Yes.”
Biting your lip, you nodded. “Let me rephrase: will you eat me?”
He smirked. “Maybe.”
Sighing in relief, you let out a quiet laugh. “Well that’s good, I suppose. I’ll just keep in mind not to get into the water then.” Though you had no intention of ever doing that to begin with.
Silence washed over you like the waves that surrounded you, leaving you feeling unsure and only slightly unsettled. Yet you wouldn’t say it was entirelyuncomfortable.
You groaned in front of the mirror, failing to draw your eyeliner the same again. Picking up the make up wipe from the desk below you, you lightly wiped it to redo the make up.
You’ve been trying for hours but you couldn’t get a single perfect wing. Once again, you looked intently at the mirror in front of you as you draw a small wing on your eyelid.
Its was perfect. You sighed knowing it’s time to draw on the other lid, picking up the eyeliner pen, you carefully tried to do the same shape you did from the other lid.
“Baby, I’m here!!!” you heard your boyfriend call from the doorway, startling you. The pen slipped causing you to ruin the make up again.
You groaned in frustration, wanting to cry. You wanted to look pretty for him but you can’t even do a simple eyeliner. You faced him with a pout on your face as tears welled in your eyes, “What happened, princess??”
“I ruined my make up again, how am I supposed to look pretty for you.” you placed the pen down and sighed as you grabbed another wipe.
“I’m so sorry- wait…” you watched him as he pulls the chair from beside you and sat on it, “practice on me.” he tapped his lap, motioning for you to go to him.
“What??” your face reddened as you felt him pull you over to sit on his lap, “I think I’ll pass out.” you’ve been together for months yet he still manages to make you feel all nervous and giddy.
“Then you won’t get to practice your eyeliner.” he chuckled, swiftly placing his hands on your hips to keep you in place.
You held the eyeliner, trembling. You nervously practiced on his eyelids, smiling as you got comfortable, “Your eyes are so pretty, Jinnie…”
You pout after not hearing a reply from him, slithering your hands over his shoulders, staring at him. Hyunjin’s grip on your hip tightened as his lips curved into a smile, doe eyes on you filled with fondness.
You couldn’t stop staring at them. No matter how hard you tried to avert your attention, you were just too mesmerized by the way his lips moved as he sung softly to himself. You felt your cheeks heat at the embarrassment of being caught staring at him but you couldn’t find yourself caring.
His lips were just so damnperfect.
Without thinking, you leaned forward, capturing them in a kiss that pulled Chan’s attention from his laptop, quickly sliding the headphones off of his head.
“W-What was that for,” he sputtered as when you pulled back, blushing furiously at the sudden affection.
You didn’t say anything as you leaned back in. You pressed soft kisses so his cupids bow, giggling softly as he pulled you closer to him. You continued to trail your lips across his as he happily welcomed your little kisses. When you pulled back to look at him you you couldn’t help but to let out a sigh at how pretty he was, bare faced, cheeks a light shade of pink and those beautiful lips even more plush than before from your consistent attack on his lips.
You gently ran your thumb against the skin of his cheek, taking in every inch of his beauty.
“You’re so pretty,” you whispered, leaning in to press a kiss against his nose.
Chan knew better than to argue with you, instead opting to pull you closer to him as he uttered those three words you never got tired of hearing against your lips. Let’s just say that the two of you didn’t do anything productive the rest of the night, favoring instead to stay in each others embrace as got lost in the feeling of one another’s lips.
You don’t remember how you ended up here but you weren’t going to complain. The breeze caressed your bare legs, eyes falling closed as you listened to the rustling of the leaves and the distant chirps of the birds that had occupied the small park in search for food.
The tears had stopped awhile ago, however the sharp sting of them was still ever so present. You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them close to you in search of some form of comfort as your wrapped your arms around your shoulders.
The events from today hadn’t stopped plaguing your mind. You were hurt, lost and confused to say the least. Hyunjin’s actions in the pool had contrasted with the concerned look your were met with before running away.
Maybe you had looked into it a little too much.
Your insecurities always did seem to get the better of you. But right now, all you could picture was the way his smile had dropped when he looked at you. You shook your head, willing the tears away as you didn’t want to cry anymore, head still thumping from your previous outburst.
“Y/n!”
The sudden shout of your name had you startling out of your thoughts, eyes widening as you turned to the source.
Hyunjin practically collapsed next to you on the bench, heaving as he hunched over to catch his breath. You stared wide eyed at his form, confused as to why he was even looking for you in the first place.
“Do—Do you have any idea how worried I’ve been,” he forced out in-between breaths.
You just looked at him. The words had caught in your throat, unknowing of what to say to him. You watched as he closed his eyes, taking a deep final breath before turning to you.
“You were looking for me?”
He looked taken back as he scooted his body towards you, “Of course I was looking for you! You’ve had me worried sick. Why wouldn’t I look for you?”
“You seemed like you didn’t want me around before—” you trailed off, cursing as you felt the tears cloud your vision once more.
“Why would you think that? Of course I wanted you around. I always want you to be with me.”
“Hyun you couldn’t even l-look at me.”
His eyes widened as your voice broke, watching silently as the tears began to fall from your eyes.
“I-I know I embarrassed you and I’m sorry—.”
“Embarrassed? What—Y/n you’ve never embarrassed me.”
“Please don’t lie to me.”
Hyunjin looked just as heartbroken as he met your gaze, his own eyes filling with tears as he released a shaky breath.
“I know I-I’m not attractive but Hyunjin the minute I got in the pool—I don’t know I just felt like your were disgusted seeing me like that.”
His eyes widened as he watched you wipe your tears before trying to move yourself away from him. However, he caught your arm before you could.
“God no that’s not it at all! I’m sorry I just— this is going to be embarrassing for me to admit,” he blinked the tears out of his eyes before turning his gaze back towards you.
“I’m sorry that I made you feel less about yourself. That was never my intention and I want you to know that I’ve never been, nor will I ever be embarrassed of you.”
You noticed that he hesitated, eyes flickering around the two of you before turning his attention back on you.
“This is going to sound like such a perve thing to say but Y/n you have no idea the power you hold over me with your clothes on and seeing you in that swimsuit it took everything in me not to take you right then and there in front of everyone.”
Your eyes widened at the sudden confession.
“W-What,” you sputtered, earning a small groan from Hyunjin.
“I know and I’m sorry but you have no idea how good you looked and it took everything in me not to touch you. That’s why I couldn’t look at you because I knew if I did I would embarrass myself,” he whined as his face fell into his hands.
You let out a soft laugh at his muffled ‘but admitting that is embarrassing too idiot,’ before reaching up to run your fingers gently through his hair.
Hyunjin dropped his hands from his face at your touch, gently grasping your wrist as he pulled you closer to him, smiling at you before leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry I was such an ass. I never wanted to hurt you or make you feel insecure. God you have no idea what you do to me angel. I love every part of you.”
You hummed, eyes fluttering open as you pulled back to fix him with a playful glare.
“But you haven’t seen all of me yet though,” you teased.
Hyunjin smirked, biting his lip as he pulled you closer to him by your waist, “We can fix that.”
IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE: DO NOT READ-NSFW UNDER THE CUT
With finals over and the letter stating you were finally getting the degree, you’ve worked so hard for, you needed to relax. Luckily, your boyfriend knew just how to do that.
With your roommate out for the night, ChangBin took that chance to surprise you at home with a bottle of wine and flowers. The two of you made quick work of the wine, but it wasn’t needed for what he had in mind.
“So beautiful,” he panted into your ear as you bounced on his lap. His hands held your hips tightly as you rode him. “Such a good girl. Does that feel good?” He sucked your neck as you leaned your head back.
“Binnie,” you moaned, “So good. So big.” Rocking your hips into his, you moaned louder. “So close. I’m so close.” Feeling the knot tighten in your stomach you kissed him deeply, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth.
ChangBin started to thrust up to meet your hips. Gripping your hips tighter, he guided you down to meet his thrusts. He looked up at you like you were his reason for living. The intensity of his gaze gave you chills. Suddenly, you felt a sharp and rough tug on your scalp. With a yelp, you were pulled off of ChangBin’s lap.
“What the fuck,” he yelled, meeting the eyes of 4 men. Men that weren’t his. He lunged for the man holding you by the hair. “Let her go,” he demanded with more contempt than you’ve ever heard, “Now.”
The man holding you up by the hair was tall and had an anti-brow piercing. Another man in the room stepped forward and threw something at ChangBin.
“Get dressed,” he ordered ChangBin. The man turned to look at you, his eyes roaming your body. “Let her cover up,” he said to his men. Another wrapped the sheet around your body to provide a little dignity.
ChangBin studied your face. There was no fear, only what seemed to be annoyance. Slowly putting his boxers on, he never took his eyes off of you. “Don’t hurt her,” he said to the one who looked like the leader. “I’ll cooperate. Just let her go. You don’t need her.” Pointing to you ChangBin tried to bargain with the man.
“She isn’t going anywhere,” he spat back. “And you will speak when spoken too.” ChangBin opened his mouth to object and was quickly hit in the face, causing blood to drip from his mouth.
“Stop it,” you yelled at the men. They all looked at you and then back to the man in charge.
“Take him out of here,” he commanded. After another quick punch, for good measure, ChangBin was pulled from the room by two men.
“Have you lost your fucking mind, Jay B,” you finally spat to the man holding your hair? He let go and allowed you to fall to the floor. You scrambled to stand and stand toe to toe to the leader. “What the fuck, Jackson! What are you doing here?” The man tilted his head and looked over your naked body again.
“What are you doing Y/N?” he asked with pleasure. “So that’s your new boyfriend? Seems nice.” You pushed him away aggressively and sneered at him. Suddenly, it dawned on you.
“Where is he,” you growled? Jackson nodded to the front of your apartment. “Get out while I get dressed you asshole.” Jay B blocked the door and Jackson turned his back to you. “Sorry, princess.”
In the living room, ChangBin has tossed on the floor in front of a man he had never seen. He was tall, had a long thin neck, and had a sharp jawline.
“Don’t move,” one of the two men said to him, “Stay on the floor. Hands where we can see them.” He assumed a docile position on his knees, hands on his thighs. He looked to the man sitting before him, clearly the one in charge, not the one in the room. Oh no, in the room with you still. He could hear shouting, but couldn’t make it out.
“Let her go, please,” ChangBin asked the man before him. “I don’t know who you are, but she doesn’t know anything.” The man laughed.
“She’s in no danger from us,” he said lowly. “But she may know more than she’s letting on.” The sound of your heels on the floor drew everyone’s attention. Your cropped mustard pants and blazer paired well with your cream silk camisole. It was an odd choice of outfit considering the situation ChangBin thought.
“There she is,” the tall man stood and opened his arms, “Y/N, baby. I’ve missed you.” ChangBin’s heart sank at the words. He was too friendly and familiar for this to be about him. A crack sounded through the room as you slapped the man.
“Seriously, Mark,” you seethed, “What are you doing here?”
“Wait,” ChangBin spoke up,“ You know them?” You hung your head, not able to meet his eyes. Mark chuckled and lowered himself to ChangBin.
“Oh, she never told you?” he taunted, “So much for not knowing anything.” You were about to lunge for Mark again when your door opened. An older man in a three-piece suit and a woman in an elegant dress walked in and it felt like all the air was sucked out of the room.
“That isn’t any way to treat your guests is it, Monkey,” the man said. Your cheeks flushed red as you squeezed your eyes shut to stop the tears.
“No, sorry daddy,” you whispered. ChangBin’s eyes examined your face. The embarrassment painting your face tugged at his heart. He tried the best he could to piece this puzzle together.
“Jackson, Jay B, JinYoung, and YoungJae leave us. Sweetheart, Y/N, Mark, have a seat,” he motioned to the sofa. “You stay there,” he said dryly to ChangBin.
“Daddy, I,” you cleared your throat, “I didn’t know to expect you.” Lifting your eyes to your father, you saw him staring at your boyfriend that was left on his knees.
“Oh? If you had known, then what? You would have had the virtue to not get caught in bed with him?” he asked with scorn. Your mother leaned toward your father and whispered something. “Know your place woman,” he snapped back.
“Are you ok?” you asked ChangBin softly. He looked at you with questions filling his eyes and nodded. You mouthed a quick sorry to him. Mark laughed next to you and you had to fight the need to wrap your hands around that long neck.
“What were you thinking?” your mother asked. “I told you to stop seeing him.” Her voice was soft and caring, but the words hurt. ChangBin’s eyes snapped to her and then to you.
“The problem is that she’s always had her way,” Mark stated matter of factly. Your father glared at him now, causing him to shrink away.
“This is what I was telling you,” your father lectured you, “This could have gotten you hurt, or killed.” He clenched his fists at his side. You laughed dryly. “I don’t see what is so funny. What do you have to say, boy?” he asked ChangBin.
“Daddy, stop,” you interrupted. “He has nothing to do with this.”
“He has everything to do with this, Y/N,” your father corrected you.
“Honey, hear her out first,” your mother said. “You can at least let the boy have some dignity.” She motioned to the compliant man still in his underwear.
“Please daddy,” you begged. “He won’t be any trouble. Let him dress and sit with us.” Mark rolled his eyes at you and scoffed.
“He’s an animal, leave him like one,” he said. His statement earned another slap across the face.
“How dare you call him an animal? You and the goon squad show up and barge into my home. Watch your mouth, or I will cut your tongue out,” you threatened him. ChangBin grinned a little when he heard how feisty and protective you were.
“Fine. He can dress. But no weapons,” your father agreed. “Mark, you go with him. Don’t mess around.” Mark stood and dragged ChangBin towards your room again.
“Hurry up,” he told ChangBin, “The old man doesn’t like to wait.”
They returned shortly, ChangBin fully dressed in his suit. He adjusted his tie as he stood in front of your father.
“Hello, sir. I am Seo ChangBin. I’m Y/N’s boyfriend,” he said politely, then bowed deeply. He met your dad’s gaze and accepted the outstretched hand.
“I’m sorry you seem to be at a loss, son. My name is Clyde Dillinger, Y/N’s father,” your father introduced himself.
“Dillinger,” ChangBin repeated, “As in-”
“Yes that one,” Mark snapped.
“Your last name is Y/L/N,” ChangBin looked at you. “You said your dad was in finance.”
“I have my mother’s maiden name,” you said softly, “So no one knows to look for me. And technically, he is in finance.”
“You never told him?” questioned your dad, narrowing his eyes at you. Again you dropped your head.
“No sir,” you whispered. “He didn’t know.” Your mother reached for your hand, but you pulled it away. “I didn’t want this,” you gestured around the room, “to happen.”
“Sir, I want you to know that I’ve done everything I can to make sure she was safe,” ChangBin smiled at you, “I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her.”
“Then how did this happen? We literally caught you with your pants down,” Mark laughed.
“Excuse me,” Jackson said, walking into the room. “Sir? May I speak?” Your father held his hand up to Mark to silence him, allowing Jackson to speak. “We had BamBam watch them for weeks. He is very careful. He has one specific man he leaves with her at all times he isn’t around.” Your father eyed ChangBin closely. “If we didn’t know she had this apartment, we wouldn’t have found them.”
“Thank you, Jackson,” said your father. “Is this true Mark?” The younger man set his jaw and nodded his head, glaring at his friend. “Anything else?”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said looking at ChangBin. “I believe the only reason he was cooperating is for her. He begged several times for her to be let go. If she was in true danger, I feel this would have ended differently.”
“Mark? Anything to add?” questioned your dad. Being met with silence and this new information, he dismissed Mark and Jackson. “Seems that I owe you an apology, son,” he said to ChangBin. “It’s important to know when you’ve been wrong, and I may have jumped to conclusions.”
“Thank you, sir,” ChangBin replied politely. “I understand how important she is to you. And I give you my word, she is important to me too.” Your father nodded and looked to your mother.
“Leave us you two,” he instructed, “ I need to speak with this young man.” Standing you guided your mother to the kitchen for a drink. A strong one if you had it. Over your shoulder, you caught the smile ChangBin gave you.
“He’s sweet,” your mother said once away from the men. “How did you meet him?” She sat at the table and crossed her hands.
“We were out,” you explained, not wanting to give too much detail. “A creep wouldn’t leave me alone, and Binnie… Uh, ChangBin stepped in. Saved the day.” Pouring two glasses of whisky, you slid one to your mother. “I wish you would have called,” you said quietly.
“You hung up on me last time we spoke, Y/N,” she scolded you. “What would I say?” You nodded and reached for her hand.
“I was just so mad that you wouldn’t give him a chance,” you confessed. “He may be what you hear about on the news, but he isn’t with me.” You sighed and bit your lip. “Momma, he really cares about me.”
“I know, baby,” she smiled, “I can see that.” She leaned in closer to you, “I don’t know any man willing to do that for just anyone. Has he said he lo-”
“No,” you said quickly. “But I think I do.” Tears sprung to your eyes.
Your father’s voice called you and your mother back. The two men stood, shaking hands.
“I’ll be on my way,” ChangBin said. “I’ll check in with you tonight. Ok, princess?” he said to you softly, kissing your cheek. “It was very nice meeting you,” he bowed to your mother. “Sir, I look forward to hearing from you.”
“Y/N, sit down. I have to admit I’m very disappointed that this happened. We always planned to-”
“Daddy, I’m sorry but I don’t want to leave,” you cut him off. “I like it here. I have friends. I have ChangBin,” you rambled on.
“She’s right,” your mom interjected. “She can make her own choices now. She’s old enough. He seems like a nice man.”
“I am not going to let my daughter be with a man like that,” he roared, pointing to the door.
“Like what? A man like what,” you challenged. “A man like you? You were ok with the idea of me marrying Mark. For christ’s sake, Mark Tuan!” you yelled. “What is so wrong with ChangBin that you won’t get over it?” Your mother placed a hand on your arm.
“Clyde, honey,” she said, “You know this is very familiar. My father hated you. And what did that accomplish?” Your dad folded his arms and glared at your mother. “Huh? Nothing. We still got married and we’re happy, despite him.” She walked to him and gently touched his arm. “Is that what you want for her?”
“Why not Mark?” your dad questioned you. “He comes from a good family and he likes you. He’ll take over from me one day.”
“Why not Mark?” you repeated. “Because it is Mark, daddy. He loves himself and anything he can get off with. He’s a petulant child when he doesn’t get his way. I don’t love him.” You didn’t know ChangBin entered the apartment again. In his rush, he forgot his wallet and cell phone.
“Don’t love him?” your dad laughed dryly. “You love this other man, Seo? What do you know about love?”
“What did you know when you married momma at 19? I may not know a lot, but I know how he makes me feel, and I like it,” you said firmly. “Daddy, I’ve never felt safer with anyone else. He knows everything that makes me, me. I know it’s too soon to think about forever, but I can’t see my life without him,” you said softly. “I love him, daddy. I’m not leaving.”
“Y/N,” you heard from behind you. You turned to see ChangBin, his eyes full of tears. “Do you? Really?” You smiled and nodded. Wrapping you in his arms he kissed your forehead. “I love you too,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry I never told you,” you said sheepishly. Tucking your head to his neck you placed small kisses under his ear. He hugged you tiger and giggled.
“It’s ok, princess. Just no more secrets ok? I can’t keep you safe if I don’t know everything,” ChangBin said softly.
“Leave them alone,” your mom instructed, stopping your dad from interrupting. “You weren’t going to win this battle anyway.” He smiled sadly and nodded. “He is a lot like you. That’s a good thing. She’ll be ok.”
“Well, she is your daughter,” your dad laughed. “I have no doubt she’ll be fine.”
“Of course I’ll make sure he’s taken care of mom,” Chan said into the phone. “I can’t believe you let him fly out here alone. You still don’t let me do it!” He teased his mother on the phone.
“He isn’t alone, Chris,” the woman scolded him. “Y/N is with him.”
“Y/N? Hannah’s Y/N,” he questioned? “I haven’t seen her in years. What is she doing coming here?” He smiled fondly when he thought about his little sister’s friend.
Talent is something the Bang children had an abundance of. Clearly, Chan was very talented, and his sister was no exception. When she began dancing, their parents made sure she was enrolled in classes at one of the best schools. That’s where Hannah met you. You were a few years her senior and head of the advanced classes. From day one, you took Hannah under your wing and treated her like the little sister you never had.
“You’re right,” she agreed, “She just finished sometime at university and wanted to travel before going back.” Chan could hear paper being shuffled on the other end of the line. “Ah, yes. Once she leaves you at the airport she is visiting Korea, Japan, and then I think China. Or was it China then Japan?”
Chan listened to the announcement on the speakers, checking to see if the flight his brother was on landed. He told his mother goodbye and made his way to the proper gate. He was dressed in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, hoping to not draw attention to himself. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a scene.
Watching people file out of the gate, he searched the faces for familiar ones. Or one. He wondered if he would recognize you, or if you would him. You were his little sister’s best friend, and it felt like you were part of his family with how often you stayed over. He hated that he didn’t see you when he visited home, but he knew he was mostly to blame.
You had stopped by the Bang house to say goodbye to Chan before he left again to continue training as an idol. You kissed him clumsily before he pulled away and told you that he didn’t feel that way about you. You were more like a little sister, and he couldn’t see you another way.
He spotted his brother and waved his hands over his head, trying to get his attention. Lucas looked his way and waved back. He turned and hooked his arm into the arm of a young woman and pulled her through the crowd. As they got closer, Chan smiled as he recognized you.
The years had been very good to you. You had developed into a confident and beautiful woman. He always regretted not reaching out to you through the years. Deep down he always wondered what would have happened if he stayed home instead of choosing the path he did. His heart skipped a beat when your eyes locked with his.
Chan pulled Lucas into a hug and patted his back, “I’ve missed you, brother.” Ruffling his hair, he pulled away and smiled at you. He held his arms out to you, offering a hug. Carefully, you eyed him.
“You look great,” Chan said to you, “I was surprised when my mum said you were coming with Lucas.”
“I wouldn’t let him travel alone,” you smiled politely, “Plus he makes a great travel buddy.” You stepped past Chan’s open arms and pointed to a sign. “Is it this was to luggage claim?”
“Nice try, man,” Lucas laughed and patted Chan’s chest. He turned to catch up with you, leaving Chan with a blank expression on his face. “You have to give him a break,” Lucas said to you as he reached your side. “That was years ago.”
“Oh my gosh,” you groaned, “Is this something the Bang family will ever forget? I don’t care anymore.” Chan had caught up with you by now, but he kept his distance. “I was a stupid kid, with a stupid crush on a stupid boy. Nothing else.” Chan scoffed behind you, causing you to turn on his quickly. “Something to say,” you snapped.
“Nah,” he held his hands up. You continued towards luggage claim when Chan spoke again. “I just think it’s funny,” he said, “For something so stupid, you seem to still be upset about it.” You rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth.
“What if I am,” you asked, eyeing his sideways? He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “What if I am upset still? I thought I was in love with you. You could have been more gentle.” You huffed and faced his again. “I can’t ever forget about it. Hannah thinks it’s funny that I have a crush on her famous idol brother. Your parents always make mention of you to me, like we’re friends. Shit, this kid calls me his sister-in-law, as if you’ve ever spoken to me since you left,” you scowled, pointing to Lucas.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Chan apologized, touching your arm. “I was a stupid boy, youq said so yourself. And besides, I didn’t know how to handle it. I should have been nicer to you, but you were my sister’s friend, and I-.” He stopped and grinned at you. “Did you say you have a crush on me… Not had? Present tense?” Your mouth fell open and your cheeks burned red. “You did!” He said triumphantly.
“No, no I didn’t,” you tripped over your words. Lucas bumped his shoulder into you.
“You did,” he whispered, “I heard you.” You hated them at this point. Lucas for being right and Chan for being so good-looking. Chan stepped closer and smiled down at you.
“Come on,” he urged, “Let me take you out. Just once before you leave.” You chewed your lip and thought about the offer. “Let older me take older you out to make up for younger me being stupid and mean to younger you.”
“What about me,” Lucas piped in? Chan looked at him and made a serious face, mouthing a simple ‘no’. “Wow,” he said under his breath, “Older you is still a jerk.”
“You know, older me has higher standards. You can’t just smile at me with those dimples and expect me to give in Christopher Bang,” you informed Chan. He smiled wider.
“As you should,” he said, “You’re a beautiful girl. You deserve the best.”
“The best,” you repeated. “Hm, guess I should be on my way then. Can’t let the best see me with you. Might frighten them off.” You smiled over your shoulder and winked.
“No, no,” he called chasing after you, “I meant me. I’m the best. Where are you going? ”
“Wow! How can you be so bad at this,” Lucas called after Chan?
