Summer, training camp, sweat 💦
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@ethereallchan
Summer, training camp, sweat 💦

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
stereotypical (gay) nerds
does it ever make you crazy how it's set up that bokuto views akaashi as his world and akaashi compares bokuto with a star and they both take up such significant parts in each other's lives and always inspire each other to be their best selves and shdjfjdxfj
Guess who ships BokuAka from here to the end of the world.
Few days ago I read this Haikyuu!! coffeeshop AU fanfic - tea-stained polaroids by dalyeau and it was so sweet that I couldn’t help myself. It made my day bright and sunny and, believe me, it was a veryveryvery bad day before.
You can’t stop me from drawing cute mwahahahahahaha
Oh, and Akaashi is actually a master of Photoshop and the bestest in his photography class so he managed to unblur that one photo (▰˘◡˘▰)
Bang Chan .:. Beyond Live // Poster Making Film

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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IN生 tracklist as movie posters
↳ GO生 posters: 1, 2
royalty.
free fall (3) ↠ bang chan
◦ genre: mafia au, action, romance
◦ pairings: reader x chan
◦ word count: 11.2k
◦ description: bang chan comes into your life, and you start to go against everything you once believed in.
◦ warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, violence (!!!)
◦ a/n: it’s been a hot minute but it’s finally here !!! go read the previous parts if you haven’t already — they’re on my m.list & without further ado, please enjoy the finale of mafia chan :D
prologue.
The museum guard wakes to a nervous knot in his stomach.
It’s still dark, and he squints to check his watch to find that it’s only twelve in the morning. He situates himself back into his chair after deciding that the hallways are just bare as they were during closing hours with no valuable artworks stolen or rebellious teenagers spray painting the windows.
Another twinge of uneasiness laces his stomach, but he dismisses it as lightning flashes between low roars of thunder, a storm brewing in the distance. It has to be the weather.
“Park. Park. Are you there? Over.”
さらに読む
from grace ➳ bang chan
➳ genre: demon au, fluff, angst
➳ pairings: reader x chan
➳ word count: 7.1k
➳ description: He was a fallen, a follower of Lucifer, a creature of deception. All that aside, what if the darkness was not as one-dimensional as you perceived it to be?
⇒ a/n: #happychanday — may you transform stray kids’ vision into reality ☆
“What are you doing here?” You spat before you could stop yourself, and you almost felt bad for perceiving obvious traces of disgust laced in your voice — almost, if he weren’t a fallen.
“I see you’re getting the hang of it, love,” he replied, amusement palpable in his silk-like voice. A week ago, his sudden appearances had startled you, but now, you were able to sense his ominous presence instantly.
さらに読む
😳😳😳😳😳

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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dUDE a game we play is one of my all time favourites like i kid you not sometimes i be chilling and suddenly remember a scene from this fic and be like "damn that fic is so good"
🥺🥺 i-im-- I don't know how to respond to this, anon! I'm so touched that the fic is one of your favourites moreover something you remember!! aaaah I'm speechless rn thank you so much for telling me this I'm so happy ❤️❤️
A game we play - Han Jisung
Genre: Angst, fluff, College!au;enemy (or rivals) to lovers. not really a slow burn, but not that fast either.
Pairing: Han Jisung x fem!reader feat best friend!Minho and Cousin/roommate!Changbin
Word count: 16.4k
Warning: Vivid depiction of one’s fear towards rain, language.
Han Jisung hates you and the feeling is mutual. So when Minho offers both of his best friends to play a game, neither of them knows what exactly lies beneath his actual intention because love and hate is simply both sides of a coin that he easily flips.
The train abruptly stopped in its track, prompting out a curse from your mouth. Your footing almost lost its balance but a quick reflect of your hand to the seat protected you from planting your face to the train’s floor and saved your dignity. The action earned you a couple of stares from the old couple that was seated on where your hand has held the grab. There wasn’t even any ounce of yourself that cared as your focus was entirely on the watch encircling your wrist, showing that you might’ve been late for your daily run to the coffee shop.
You were indeed, late. Your frowned lips turn into a scowl as you opened up the latest text that Jisung has sent you. A picture of his hand holding a coffee cup with the background of your uni, the text read out, ‘guess who’s gonna give Minho his morning drink, alone?’
When you furiously texted him as how he was being so unfair because he lived in a walking distance to the uni while you had to take the train to even get to the nearest station of it, a speaker inside the train beeped. Your finger was just finished at pressing send when the notification came out.
“Good morning passengers, we regret to inform that there will be a slight delay to our arrival as–”
You didn’t even bother listening. Another text is typed out from your phone, informing your other friend that you would be late to your first class. There was a slight pause before you suspected that your other friend was probably already seated on the your class near Jisung and your suspicion was proven true as another text was sent to you from the man himself.
Fingers hovering on the notification, you heaved a breath before mentally preparing yourself to open it.
‘boohoo who’s late and not getting a stamp today????’ was the text with a picture of a stamped paper.
’Shut up you prick’
‘A prick who’s one stamp richer than you so who’s the real winner here ;)’ the image of him smirking while typing the text was projected in your mind and there was nothing that you wanted in this world than to wipe that look in his face as soon as you could meet him.
But for now, your plotted revenge needs to be refrained as you stuck inside the stagnant train.
さらに読む
Your core burns with activity.
Alarm spikes through you for a single moment, but slowly simmers down when you remember—yes, you did use a condom, and yes, you did pee afterwards. Your self-reassurance startles you back awake. You pull yourself up, grappling with reality and past memories, and with wide eyes you soak in the gray sheets around you.
Your smell comes to and—yep, it’s Chan. It’s all Chan.
For a second you hope that maybe it was part of a dream (a wet dream, perhaps?) and that instead you crashed over at your friend’s house after a meltdown and he was kind enough to carry you to his bed. The past week all comes crashing down on you at once, like how it always did since a member of your group flunked on your business project. Coupled with that, is the memory of last night. When you and Chan both met up and vented about your problems—his with his roommate Felix.
You were so stressed you were both screaming at no one in particular, but just to let your fury out. After that, he reached into his fridge and pulled out several cans of beer; no doubt Felix’s—Chan doesn’t drink, at least didn’t until last night. Your head had been too hot with your explosive anger for you to question it.
You remember downing the drinks until the alcohol clouded your anger just right, but left behind a little more. Chan’s hand was on your arm one moment, and you were halfway across his lap the next.
“Not sure whether to be glad or not to remember the rest,” you groan, planting your head on your raised knees. The bed has been empty since you woke up, and the house is strangely silent as to where its owner currently roams. Your grogginess fades and brings to light new bodily sensations, such as the air-conditioned goosebumps along your arms, the cotton stuck inside your throat, and the pressing of your bladder against your stomach. You groan once more, and contemplate the chances of you being caught. What if you run into your long-term friend and recently dubbed one-night-stand on the way to the bathroom? What if he’s down the hall right now? What if he’s mingling in the kitchen, close to the only exit out of his apartment? The hairs on your arms straighten at the thoughts.
It’s not that you don’t want to approach him. But you know how you both are—how you tiptoe around conversations about sex and relationships, how you both avoid the other’s eyes when someone hints at the slightest bit of interest between you two; and Chan’s no pro at covering the tips of his ears whenever you lean too close or praise his talent after he shows you the latest snippet of his work. You can even think back to last night, where his breath hitched when you pulled apart and he hesitated stripping off pieces of your clothing. Even with the aphrodisiac of alcohol, he still managed to be his timid and mindful self.
Your next interaction is bound to be awkward, so you’d like that to happen after you’ve soothed your aches and bruises with a drawn bath while contemplating where you both stand.
The only thing between you and that luxury is the walk between his bed and his front door. You quickly settle on taking the first step out of many. The floor groans lightly under your feet as you guide yourself off his bed to his bedroom door. His room carries none of your possessions—no phone, no purse, no nothing—and you’re not even sure where to begin adding that to your getaway plan.
So rather you forget about it altogether, and instead grab whatever you can carry on your back—which is your clothes—and stealthily close Chan’s bedroom door behind you. You pause in the hallway, listening closely to the sounds of his house, and trek on. Moving around in your state feels entirely uncomfortable, with the way your skin sticks with dried sweat, your hair is a mess, and you teeter on the edge of pissing yourself, but you hang on to the image of your bath calling out to you and catch someone else calling out somewhere down the hall.
It doesn’t sound like Chan, but would Felix be back so quickly after last night? Chan made it seem like he fucked off entirely, as in packing up his bags and leaving to sleep over at some friend’s house.
Truthfully, though, you don’t plan to stay long enough to find out. The hall opens up to the main rooms, the living and kitchen room, though the structure of his house blocks your view from immediately seeing into them. The voices become clearer, and yep, that’s Chan, immersed in a full-fledged conversation. That should make your exit easier.
You duck around the lights coming from the windows and lamps and stick to the shadow. Lowly crouched, you maneuver until you’re just behind a counter and definitively out of his sight. From there, it should be a straight line to the front door, and a jog down the block to home. You may not have your keys on you but surely you can jump inside from an open window, right? Maybe you left your door unlocked, as irresponsible as that is, it would prove to be a lifesaver. And if none of that works, you’re sure your friend wouldn’t mind holding a brunch party with you.
“Excuse me for a moment,”
Of course, it is never that easy.
You hear the creak of a chair aching for the return of its occupant, and the heavy bare-footed steps of—no doubt—your best friend Chan. Your body starts breaking into new sweat, and you quietly saunter further behind the safety of his kitchen appliances. He could easily be making his way towards the bathroom, or even his own bedroom to check on you. Under the stress of anxiety, your senses pick up on your surroundings more clearly, and you find yourself making note of the thin scent of milk and bananas. Someone has already raided the kitchen for their serving, so the chances of someone walking in again should be—
“Find what you’re looking for down there?”
One hundred percent, apparently.
Chan leans against the counter with his hands folded together, a knowing smirk on his lips. He looks down at you expectantly, though he shows no intent in rushing an answer out of you.
“Uh, not yet,” your lips move before your brain has time to compute. You almost want to smack yourself for blubbering like an idiot on his kitchen floor. Meanwhile, Chan raises his eyebrows in amusement.
“Well, let me know when you do,”
You simply nod your head and look down at your feet. Clenching your eyes shut, you count down the seconds before your heart slows down to a tolerable beat. When you aren’t met with the sound of Chan shuffling away or tapping away on his phone or moving to chat with the person he left in the living room, you turn your head to find him still standing there, unmoving and just as amused as before. He’s obviously not planning on leaving anytime soon.
Sighing, you bring yourself to stand upright. Chan doesn’t say anything, although he does cock an eyebrow as if to ask a mocking question. If he’s willing to draw this out, why not go along with it?
“Nope… still looking,” you say monotonously.
Chan finally reacts in a way that doesn’t involve staring straight at you, and collapses against the counter to let out a loud laugh. He steadies himself almost immediately and gazes at you with fond, moon-crescent eyes. He just barely holds back his giggles as he spits out his next words.
“Hope you don’t mind me borrowing you away from your search for a minute,”
You wince because you know exactly what he means. But that doesn’t mean you can’t hold it off for as long as you can, hopefully for as long as it takes to tiptoe over to his front door.
“Uh, sure. What is it?”
That definitely knocks the smile off Chan’s face. He gapes at you incredulously and squints his eyes before repeating your words back at you.
“What is it?”
You know why he’s so dumbfounded; he’s easier to read than a book. Similarly, he’s more fun to play with than a toy, so you have no problem dancing around his disbelief. You look behind him and spot a tuft of bright red hair, so you answer his question with another one.
“Made up with Felix yet?”
Chan glances behind him for a second before turning forward. He stutters a bit before inhaling deeply.
“Yeah, workin’ on it. But that’s not what I wanna talk about.”
“And that is…” you cross your arms and raise a brow, drawing out the conversation longer. Perhaps, the more you beat around the bush, the more likely he is to drop the issue, help you grab your items and usher your way out of his apartment. Maybe out of embarrassment, he’ll abandon the topic until you both are ready to bring it back to light.
“…Last night,” Chan finishes. He doesn’t continue past that point, instead opts to study your face for any cue that you’ll take the matter seriously. Unfortunately for both of your sakes, you don’t.
“Oh, yeah. You really helped clear my mind. I thought about what you said and I think I’ll try to have one last chat with my partner about him pulling his work, and if that doesn’t help I’ll ask my professor to drop him.”
Chan looks irritated for a moment, then relieved, and then back to peeved. His brows furrow as he tries to digest your words and comprehend your actions.
“You…know what I mean,” and he says it in such a low voice it makes your stomach jump. He’s totally almost at his wits end, and you consider driving him over the edge, to give him that final push to wish you goodbye and a safe trip. But the tips of his ears begin to turn a bright pink, then a dark red, and soon his cheeks follow, and you realize just how much this discussion matters to him.
Your gaze falls to the floor and you shamefully kick your feet against the ground.
“I do,” you finally admit. But you still don’t feel comfortable addressing the subject in its entirety. You still need to relax, to form your thoughts, and grasp the implications behind his actions and yours. Your mind is as muddled as it can be. And your relationship with Chan is still a question for the future. So you try to lessen the bite, at least for right now. “It was great, Chan. And trust me, I don’t regret anything—I think. But we don’t have to force meaning into it, okay? Let’s just recognize it as a thing that happened, for now.”
Chan looks startled by the sincerity in your voice after minutes of you playing around. But he accepts it wholly, and nods while carefully taking in your words.
The calm in your stomach is once again disturbed by the weight in his features. He seems so lost in thought and consideration, and you wonder if you’ve said the wrong things. Did you offend him? Is he disappointed? Angry? One thing’s for sure is that he is not happy—the little knot between his eyebrows reveals as much. You start to ponder if even you agree with what you’ve said.
Chan looks up at just the right moment, and within his eyes you see determination, a new vigor, and you almost perk up to hear what he’ll say next.
“That’s the thing. I don’t wanna just end on meaningless sex. If you’d let me, I’d love to take you out sometime? For breakfast, maybe?”
He sounds so hopeful, and you can imagine his heart is beating just as hard as yours inside his chest. You start to feel the same warmth as last night, anxious and feverish, but ready. You think back to his soft lips on yours, his calloused fingertips pressed against your chest, and feel eager to delve back into that again, but with more passion and history. Your lips stretch into a smile and out it tumbles—
“Sure, sounds like a plan.”
Seven Years | LMH (2)
genre: fluff, singleparent!reader
members: minho x reader
warnings: making out/implied smut?? very pg though
part 1
09:56 (just before when minho said he’d meet you)
“remember to be nice, okay?”
“do you like him?” haon asked, staring at your intertwined hands. you were walking a little bit too fast for his little legs, but he let it slide as you said this was important.
“of course i like him! i’d say we’re friend—“
“no. do you like like him?” haon asked.
you chuckled, turning and running your hands through your son’s hair, “stop growing haonie. and maybe, we’ll have to see.”
“so he could be my new dad?”
you took a breath, “we’ll have to see. okay, we’re here!”
haon looked in the window at the small brunch café.
“you alright?” you paused, “they do pancakes.”
haon smiled, nodding as you let out a sigh of relief, walking through the doors. before the waitress could approach you, minho’s waving hand caught your attention, leading you over to him.
“hello,” minho smiled, pulling you into a hug, “you alright?”
you nodded, “minho, this is haon. haon, this is minho.”
haon looked up and bowed, minho slightly bowing in return, making haon giggle.
you smiled, “you wanna sit next to me, haon?”
“no, i want to sit next to mr. minho,” he said, “cause then i can look at mum’s beautiful face!”
you sat down, glaring at your son, “what have you done?”
haon giggled cheekily, “nothing!”
“hmm, you sure?” minho chuckled, “here, whisper what you did.”
“i didn’t do nothing!” haon exclaimed, laughing.
you laughed too, trying to quieten haon down.
“um, what would you like to drink? i’ll get it,” you said, putting your coat on the back of your chair.
“flat white please,” minho smiled, “but i’ve already told them to pay with my card so...”
“minho!”
“it’s fine,” he smiled, shrugging.
you sighed, “haon. melon milk?”
haon nodded.
“if not...”
“hot chocolate!” he exclaimed.
you nodded, smiling as you walked over to the counter.
“how old are you, mr. minho?” haon asked, glancing over at the man sat beside him.
“i’m 25 years old.”
“birthday?”
“25th of october, 1998.”
“star sign?”
“scorpio.”
“interestings?”
minho chuckled, “um... dancing, cats, your mum.”
haon smiled, “i like that. it was smooth.”
minho nodded, “well thanks.”
there was silence for a moment before haon looked up at minho bashfully. haon had always had a kind of prejudice against men his mum’s age, especially when they were trying to interfere with his mum’s life.
but minho liked cats.
“i-i like cats too, mr. minho.”
minho smiled, “do you want to see photos of mine? i have three.”
07:14 (30 minutes before haon should be at the bus stop)
you rolled your eyes at the sound of the doorbell, “just coming!”
“mum! have you seen my uniform?!”
“um... check the dryer!” you exclaimed, before pulling the door open, “minho. hi!”
“hey, sorry, you look busy. i just thought before i go to work we could go to the shops together?” minho offered.
“mum! what can i have for breakfast?!”
you rolled your eyes, “come in.”
minho chuckled, taking off his shoes as he pulled the door shut behind him.
“can you just have toast? i’ll make you something really nice for dinner,” you nodded.
“can i have nutella too?” haon asked, his big, shiny eyes looking up at you.
you chuckled, ruffling his hair, “sure.”
“mr. minho!” haon exclaimed, “hello!”
“hey haon,” minho smiled, “you going to school?”
haon nodded.
“do you get the bus? or do you walk?” minho asked.
“bus,” haon said bluntly, putting the bread in the toaster.
minho nodded, “okay then.”
there was a few minutes of silence as you left the room to get haon’s things together, neither of the two boys daring to say anything to the other.
finally, the toaster popped, making both of them jump slightly before laughing. haon continued giggling as he reached up to get the toast out.
suddenly, minho’s reactions– that he didn’t particularly know he had –kicked in and he jumped in the way.
“careful!” he exclaimed, before stepping back sheepishly out of the alarmed boy’s way, “that’s gonna be hot. want me to do it for you?”
haon blinked a few times before nodding, “yes please.”
minho smiled, moving forward again and getting the toast out and laying it on the board.
he paused for a moment, looking round the unfamiliar space, “where’s the nutella then?”
11 days later, 07:14 (30 minutes before haon should be at the bus stop)
minho hummed as he got the toast out the toaster, putting it on the board and slathering it with a layer of nutella. he put it on a small plate before pouring a glass of milk to go alongside it.
“haon! i’ve made your breakfast!” minho called, the patter of small footsteps echoing through the house as haon ran to the kitchen.
“slowly!” you yelled.
“thank you mr. minho,” haon beamed as he reached the kitchen, snatching the plate and cup off the side and sitting at the table to dig in.
“your welcome, sprout,” minho smiled, wiping the top clear, “want me to walk you to the bus stop today?”
haon nodded, “minwoo wants to do aeroplanes again!”
minho chuckled, nodding, “okay. we’ll do aeroplanes.”
you approached the doorway, but stopped when you heard haon talking to minho. your son was giggling and talking in a way you’d never heard before.
was this how he would’ve treated a dad?
did he think of minho as a fatherly figure? cause you didn’t think you’d mind if he did.
god, what a terrible thing to think about the boy you like.
17:59 (time for friday night movie night)
“hmm, what do you want to watch?” you hummed, flicking through netflix, “it seems like we’ve watched everything on here.”
“mum,” haon said, the vowel sound dragging on.
“yes, baby?”
you looked down at your son as he looked up at you, his big brown eyes sparkling. you could see confusion behind them.
“what is it?” you asked, taking your arm from around him so you could inspect his face, “are you okay?”
“i’m fine!” he exclaimed, wriggling until you moved your hand.
“then what?”
haon sighed, “do you like mr. minho?”
you took a deep breath. of course he would question this. why would he not start to question it? he was a lot more grown up than you cared to admit. he probably had a girlfriend himself!
“yeah,” you nodded, “i like him a lot, haon.”
haon smiled.
“why? do you like him?” you asked, a sudden nervousness filling you up.
haon nodded slowly, “i like him a lot.”
you smiled, “well... that’s good.”
haon sat back, snuggling into you, “i want to watch mulan.”
“again?”
haon glared at you.
“alright, alright.”
07:11 (saturday, when haon does what he wants in the morning)
you opened your eyes, taking a deep breath and groaning slightly as you stretched.
your eyes remained closed, taking a few moments to properly wake up as you heard haon laughing.
must be watching cartoons, you thought, before the sound of minho’s voice flowed it’s way into your room.
“minho?!” you exclaimed, scrambling out of bed.
“oh, seems like your mum’s up,” minho chuckled.
you needed to get to the bathroom, minho couldn’t see you like this! but he was sat right in the middle of the pathway from here to your bathroom.
you sighed, collecting some makeup and some clothes, exiting the bedroom.
“mummy! can i go to minwoo’s, i left something there and i want to show mr. minho,” haon said.
“yes, yes, go,” you said, still covering your face, “be quick!”
you continued on your way to the bathroom, but you were stopped when a hand grabbed your wrist.
“y/n what are you doing?” minho asked.
you blushed, hyperaware of how close you were to minho with bad-breath, bare-face and while wearing pyjamas.
“just need to go to the bathroom,” you chuckled nervously, turning again.
“why? it’s 7am on a saturday, you don’t need to be anywhere,” minho chuckled, “come on. let’s watch tv. or do you want breakfast?”
“just let me brush my teeth,” you pleaded as minho let go of your wrist and walked into the kitchen.
“y/n, why would you need to brush your teeth? you haven’t even eaten breakfast,” minho said.
“in case we kiss,” you muttered.
“do you want toast? or cerea— wait what?”
your eyes widened, as you began to run out the room, “need to go!”
minho closed his eyes, chuckling slightly with a lazy grin as he watched the bathroom door bang closed, you the other side of it.
“y/n?” he called.
“hold on,” you shouted, “i’m just... never gonna come out ever again.”
minho laughed, “but what if i want to kiss you?”
“then i need to brush my teeth,” you said.
“just come out,” minho spoke.
you sighed, banging your head against the door a couple times before opening it slowly.
minho was still stood in the kitchen, leaning on the work surface, beconing you with his hand.
you shook your head.
“y/n.”
you sighed again, walking towards him slowly.
“why do you think you need to do all that stuff? i’ve been here so much the past couple of weeks,” minho said.
you took a deep breath, “because i like you, lee minho.”
minho’s eyes widened, “y-you do?!”
you nodded, “i like you a lot. a-and i know i was the one to push you away at first but that’s only because of haon but you’re so good with haon and it only makes me like you more! an—“
minho slammed his lips onto yours, pulling you against him by the small of your back.
you laughed slightly into the kiss, not pulling away at all as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
minho’s hands moved so they were on your thighs, minho murmering a quick, “jump”, and you obliged.
you wrapped your legs around his waist before he set you down on the kitchen countertop. he pulled away and smiled, kissing down your jaw and down your neck.
“y/n i like you so much,” he said, finally placing one short kiss on your lips before pulling away, “so, so much.”
you smiled, “i feel the same, minho.”
minho’s smile mirrored yours as he ran his hands down your arms, linking your hands with his.
“i mean that wasn’t part of the plan, but...” he trailed off and the sound of the door opening rang through the house.
you turned around, seeing haon with a bunch of orange roses and a balloon.
“haon! what’s this?!” you exclaimed.
“from mr. minho,” haon spoke, before imitating minho, “y/n y/l/n, i like you.”
you looked back to minho with tears in your eyes, shaking your head.
“the boy speaks the truth,” minho shrugged.
your son held out the balloons and the flowers to you as you laughed, taking them from his hands.
“i didn’t actually go to minwoo’s, mummy,” haon giggled.
you nodded, “i can tell, baby.”
“but minwoo is at the park, can i go and play with him now?”
“truthful this time?” you laughed.
haon nodded, completely seriously.
“well okay then,” you chuckled, patting his head as he ran back out the door.
“you like it?” minho asked.
you shook your head in disbelief, “minho, i love it.”
minho smiled, walking over and kissing you again, his hands on your hips as yours were around his neck.
you were just hoping haon stayed out for a while.
a couple years later... 11:34 (the first day in your new apartment)
“good morning, sleeping beauty,” minho smiled, “how did you sleep?”
you groaned, rolling over and chuckling slightly, “how do you think i slept minho?”
“it seemed pretty good,” minho smiled, laughing.
“how about you?” you asked, the smile never leaving your face as you turned over to face your fiancé.
minho nodded, “it’s pretty comfortable.”
you smiled, rubbing his arm, “savour this though, it might be taken away from you in the next few months.”
“why do you always think so negatively?!” minho exclaimed, “come on, we have a house, we’ve got money, we’ll get married in a couple months, everything’s good!”
“no, no,” you chuckled, “i mean by me. you’ll be kicked out by me. well, and someone else.”
“by haon?” minho guessed, “y/n what are you talking about?”
you giggled, rolling over and taking out a small white stick from your bedside table. you glanced at the small ‘positive’ written on it, smiling and biting your lip before handing it to minho.
“not haon,” you smiled, “but the other one. i’m pregnant.”
Source: This

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chapped lips
pairing: lee felix x reader
genre: angst. fluff?? bad boy!felix au
warnings: felix gets into fights like a dummy
a/n: requested by anon💞 i’m not super proud of this but i spent like a week trying to get it to a point i’m proud of and i couldn’t, i’m sorry if it isn’t the best, i hope you enjoy it anyway😊 also the title is gross i know i just can’t think of anything else to title it dhdjsksj im sOrRy
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lee felix. lee fucking felix, a.k.a the bane of your fucking existence. who did he think he was, sauntering into your school the first day of junior year, wearing a leather jacket and a loose white shirt acting like he owned the place, despite it being his first day at his new school?
the answer is the fucking king, apparently.
disregarding that no one had ever seen him in school, let alone in town before, every girl was throwing themselves at him by the time the first bell even rang. they were babbling about how mysterious and hot he was, practically drooling. you, on the other hand, opted for keeping your saliva in your mouth and dignity in tact, rolling your eyes and telling yourself that he was just another flirt, an unfairly hot and charming fuckboy. as the year progressed, you proved yourself correct.
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love equation ☽ minho
✦ genre: friends to lovers au, college au, fluff, slight angst ✦ description: minho’s ideas were dangerous but of course, as his best friend, you went along with them all. this one, however, could be dangerous for you. specifically your heart ✦ pairings: lee minho x reader ✦ word count: 11.5k ✦ warnings: mild language, slightly suggestive at points ✦ a/n: i decided i wanted to get back into writing fics and here is my first fic in three years! i’m a little bit rusty but i hope you all like it ♡
i.
“Ta-da! All done.” You smiled, taking a step back to admire the work you’d done. Small picture frames littered the walls of your new bedroom, stereotypical fairy lights decorating the empty space around it. It wasn’t night just yet, but you were excited to be able to lay down and see a recreation of the night sky on your ceiling.
However, as soon as you stopped hanging everything up, a sharp pain shot through your back. A shockwave of small pricks traveling from your lower back to above your shoulder blades. Suddenly everything seemed too much, the pain making you lightheaded.
Turning on your heels, you slowly walked out to your living room, plopping down on the couch and bringing both of your hands to your back. As much as you tried to massage out the pain, there was only so much your own reach could do.
Great, first day of college and you get hurt, you thought.
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