Can you 🥺👉👈 write smth about kissing with either Jaemin or Lele I could care less about plot I'm just *yearning noises*
“Can I play with your hair?”
How that innocent question devolved into the playful mess containing you and your boyfriend, you can’t say you didn’t know.
Chenle’s laughter rang loud in your ears as he looked in the mirror, checking out what you did with his hair. You lay on the ground, laughing so hard you were silent. What had begun with you just running your fingers through Chenle’s hair, had turned into pigtails, then a number of wacky hairstyles using hairspray or gel, turning you into an asthmatic seal with each weird style.
“I really like this one,” Chenle said, turning away from the mirror to look at you with a grin. When he got no answer from you except the deep breaths of you trying to calm down, Chenle put down the hand-mirror and crawled over to you. He poked you in the side, making you twist away. “Yah, are you dead yet?”
You eyed him. “Do you want me to be? Lele that’s so mean!” you exclaimed exaggeratedly, weakly slapping at his arm.
“Ouch!” he yelled, obviously faking. “That hurted. Baby, kiss it better.”
You wrinkled your nose. “No.”
Chenle let out a dramatic gasp. “No?”
“No.”
“You asked for it.”
You squealed when he pounced on you, fingers digging into your sides. His attack was relentless while you screamed and laughed in his ear, desperately trying to push his hands away. “Stop stop stop! Chenle!”
He giggled as he tickled you a bit more before finally stopping, pinning your hands down when you still tried to push him away. A glare and pout was what he got from you, mad that he’d tickled you. Smiling at your pouting, he leaned down to kiss your lips quickly. When it didn’t make your pout disappear, Chenle kissed you again, trailing kisses along your nose and forehead. You closed your eyes, feeling any tension melt away as you relaxed.
“Hey, why’d you stop?” you whined, opening your eyes when you didn’t feel his lips after thirty seconds.
The small distance between your bodies was finally noticed by you then. One of Chenle’s legs was between yours, his body hovering barely over yours. Your hands were still trapped under his. Chenle softly smirked when he noticed that you noticed. His nose brushed against yours, his lips tickling yours. You breath fanned across his mouth.
When his lips met yours again, your eyes fell closed. He pulled away after a while so you could both breathe before closing in again, pressing harder against you. You wriggled your hands out from under his to thread into the hair at the back of his head, his arms keeping his full weight from crushing you.
You moved one hand to lightly scratch up and down Chenle’s back, making him shiver. You smiled, and in retaliation Chenle pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled. Your breathy moan did something to him, moving his lips from yours to kiss open-mouthed at your neck, teeth dragging along your skin here and there. Hearing you try to catch your breath, and feeling your grip tighten against his shoulder or in his hair, pleased him more than he would ever admit.
Eventually, Chenle’s fervor died down and his kisses turned more gentle again, trailing back up to your lips. His pecks were short and soft, spelling out his adoration for you.
When he finally begrudgingly pulled back, your hands moved to hold his face. He smiled sweetly down at you while your thumbs stroked his cheeks, as if he didn’t just have his tongue on your neck.
“You look ridiculous you know?” you said with a giggle. Along with the crazy hairstyle you’d given him earlier, it was made worse from your hands running through and pulling on it.
“Ah really?” Chenle shifted his weight to one forearm to pat his hair. Getting off of you, he reached for the hand mirror to check. He laughed loudly and you came up behind him to wrap your arms around him. You kissed his jaw below his ear.
“You should go wash that hairspray out.”
“Should I?” You nodded. “Okay.” Chenle stood and tried to pull you up with him, met with your resistance when you figured out what he wanted.
“Come onnn. You caused this, you can fix it,” he whined while you laughed. Finally you gave in and let him pull you into the bathroom where he quickly discarded his shirt.
“Fine fine. But I get more kisses,” you reasoned, crossing your arms as Chenle turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature. Satisfied, he turned and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
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i was tagged by @btbtual (thank you beloved!! 💖) to do some picrews!! i'm gonna admit that i'm lame & have never done a picrew before 😭😭 but this was adorable!! thank you so much avi!! here is the link!!
haechan puts his hands on renjun's shoulders and pushes him toward the menacing roller coaster, he tells him to stop being a chicken and just get in line. renjun looks like he could bite haechan's hand off and before he does, mark intervenes and tells haechan they'll just wait for him down here - he can go have his fun on that death trap alone. haechan realizes he can't back out now, so he puffs his chest out and says fine. he'll wave when he passes by them. you're standing in front of haechan as he joins the queue. at first all he can see is the back of your head - it's nothing special, it's just what he has around to entertain him, but then you turn around to look over your shoulder at your own group of friends who abandoned you and suddenly haechan's own stomach is doing upside down flips and the anxiety normal people get before going on thrill rides is warped into what haechan can only assume is attraction-at-first-sight. the feeling is new and kind of embarrassing, so he does what he does best. he tries to deflect. "did your friends force you on here alone?" "yeah, can you tell - look at them over their giggling their heads off." haechan throws a thumb over his shoulder and snorts, "the band of idiots next to them are my friends. they did the same thing to me." you laugh and haechan thinks the world couldn't make a prettier sound. he suddenly hopes you don't see the stain on his shirt from the giant pretzel he was eating earlier. he starts hyper focusing on how much he's sweating. the line moves up and you tippy toe to see if you'll be able to fit in the next coaster. but the employee cuts the line off right at the person in front of you. "looks like we'll be sitting at the nose - you think you can handle it?" you ask with the mischievous tone haechan is used to talking in himself. he gives you big grin, mostly because he can't help it, before toning it down to what he thinks is a cool shrug "duh." haechan doesn't realize that the front of a roller coaster is probably the least romantic place to meet someone for the first time. you are both staring down terror - but when haechan straps himself in and you fumble with your belt he instinctively reaches over to fix it for you. you put your hands up to let him. you don't like strangers, but haechan is all soft and golden and funny and quite honestly he doesn't look scared like most of the other people. you rarely meet someone with excitement that matches yours. "will you throw your hands up the whole time if i do?" is the last thing you say before the ride starts. haechan doesn't answer, just puts his arms right up above his head. the whole thing lasts under a minute, but it erupts into the span of a lifetime because haechan doesn't know your name or how old you are or why you're at the amusement park today but somehow when the ride loops its way down to a close, you and him are holding hands. still up in the air. someone at the back of the coaster says something about how crazy that couple at the front is. haechan doesn't want to let you go. you don't really want to let him go either. both your friend groups are still waiting when you two come out - hair all in your faces and eyes all full of stars. haechan finally asks - "what's your name?" when you tell him - he can't help but think - yeah. that kind of sounds like the same of someone who could be my soulmate.
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It is illegal for an individual to knowingly use interactive computer services to display obscenity in a manner that makes it available to a minor less than 18 years of age (See 47 U.S.C. § 223(d)). (As stated in a Tumblr post. Click the link to read it fully)
I have seen a lot of discourse, again, about minors being in NSFW spaces and even some adults defending minors and that's not okay. A friend and I have done some research and have collected the above materials to show minors (those who are under the age of 18) that it is illegal for a minor to write, read, or interact with any sort of NSFW work.
When you do so you are putting adults at risk because adults will have to answer for your actions. You are putting adults at risk of legal trouble. When an adult blocks you it is not because they are trying to be mean, it's because they are trying to protect themselves and in existence you from anything bad happening. Nobody wants to end up in jail over a fucking fictional story. It's not fair to adults that you're putting them at such risk because you want to read about your favorite characters having sex.
An author has a responsibility to tag their stories, put warnings on them, and at times disclaimers for the stories so that the reader can make an informed decision before reading. If a story is marked as explicit or the author says they do not want anyone under the age of 18 to read their content then don't read it.
Everyone is allowed to have boundaries. Smut authors are trying to create safe boundaries so they do not do anything that would get them into trouble. If a person - whether or not an they write smut expresses that they don't want children or teens to follow them then that needs to be respected.
It is not anyone responsibility to provide minors with blogs that are safe for them to consume. If a minor can find NSFW blogs then they can find blogs that are safe for them.
Parents - and I know there are parents on here - need to take it upon themselves to educate their children on internet safety and not going into spaces that are not for them. They need to be more proactive in knowing what their children are doing on the internet. There are too many unsafe places and unsafe people on the internet for children and teens to be on it without parent knowledge.
Minors: you need to think about what you're doing and how you're putting people in danger. It is not worth it just so you can read material that's meant for adults. Stop putting people at risk. Stop not listening. Stop following blogs that are under the age of 18. You are in the wrong, not the adults blocking you.
Well this is timely after just finding two more minors following me and blocking them.
Seriously. STOP.
You’re literally proving our point for us, that you are anything but an adult or “mature for your age” because you can’t even respect simple boundaries.
So for the millionth time, if you are under the age of 18: unfollow me right now and do not interact.
@stargazingfangirl18 is absolutely right about how y’all don’t respect simple boundaries. You’re not funny or cool if you still decide to interact with NSFW blogs/content even after the bloggers or creators clearly state not to. You’re just disrespectful and immature. End of story.
Also, I studied child development for the past 5 years of my life and I’ve learned about how mature/explicit content can have negative consequences on development!! So listen to us when we say that our content IS NOT FOR YOU!!
If you are younger than 18 years old:
Do not follow me
Do not like/reblog/comment on any of my posts
Do not hit up my inbox or DMs
I literally spelt this out as clearly as I can so if you still choose to not listen, then you need to re-evaluate your relationship with the internet 😗
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GENRE: hanahaki au, angst, some fluff, some comfort, more angst
WARNINGS: mentions of death, obviously. more than once. unedited
TAGLIST: @danoolah @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @jising-jisang-jisung and that one anon from May
A/N: at no point did i know where this was going, and umm yeah. but a long awaited part two that i hope gets y’all to feel something <3
Flowers started arriving for you two days into your hospital stay. Every day, 8am. Sometimes it was pink and abundant peonies, sometimes sweet and small bouquets filled with lilacs and baby’s breath between. You didn’t know who they were from, but the little notes held poems that lifted your mood for the rest of the day. They helped you forget, for a little while at least, the reason you were in the hospital.
Your mind couldn’t help wandering back to that night. When you found out your long-term boyfriend had fallen for someone else, one of his coworkers. It was like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on you. And then came the aftermath.
The tearful confrontation in the car after the party, calling up your friend to stay with her, the shortly thereafter admission to the hospital when you could hardly function. You still refused to get the surgery that would save your shortening life, despite everything you still treasured the near two years you spent with the man that still held your heart in the palm of his hand.
A knock on the door brought you from your misery; it was one of your day nurses, the one that usually brought up your flowers. Today was a mixture of sunflowers, yellow roses, and delphinium. A soft smile tugged your muscles as you took them in, holding them up for a deep smell as you received them.
“You have quite the admirer,” Amy said, relieved that the flowers lifted your mood so much. Most Hanahaki Disease patients withered away in their beds, refusing the life saving surgery and passing away in their sleep from broken hearts and torn lungs.
You hummed. While the flowers were indeed lovely, it still confused you to no end who was sending them. Your friend every day reaffirmed that Jaemin had no idea you were even in the hospital, so it couldn’t be him. You didn’t want it to be anyway, it would just make you more miserable.
“What’s the note today?” Amy asked, peering over the top of the bouquet. You opened the card, silently reading over it first, furrowing your brows more and more.
‘I hope this isn’t out of line, but can I buy you a drink? To replace the one I spilled that night’
-M
“Oh, a hint!” Amy exclaimed after you read it aloud. “So you do know the one sending the flowers.”
You tilted your head. “Not really. Not personally anyway. I think I do know who it is though…” you trailed.
“So? Are you gonna agree to it?”
You lifted a shoulder. “Even if I wanted to, how would I let him know?”
Amy hummed. “Maybe let the flower shop know. They keep track of regular customers, and it seems like he picks the flowers out himself rather than ordering online.”
The next day another bouquet came, but the note was back to the usual poem. There wasn’t any theme to them, like they were selected as if they were his favorites. They were all lovely, as any form of art held a special place in your heart.
You brought up the request first thing when your friend came by for her daily visit. She thought the same as Amy, that you knew him, until you told her about the small incident at the party that night. You thought back on his behavior. He had been very kind, and he had been concerned about your appearance even back then. You wonder if he knew Jaemin.
Regardless, you figured that if you were gonna die in a couple months anyway, what was the harm in meeting ‘M’? So you sent an email to the flower shop with your message, and waited.
The next day, your flowers were late. Amy didn’t bring them in, and every time she came to check on you it was the same. Around noon, a knock let you know it was lunch time. Except, the door opened to a bouquet, behind which fluffy dark brown hair half covered dark brown eyes. It was weird seeing someone again that you’ve only met briefly before. A tentative smile greeted you, to which a corner of your own mouth couldn’t help quirking up with in response. That, and the flowers that made you smile no matter what.
“Hello again,” his deep voice filled the quiet space.
“Hello,” you murmured. You couldn’t take your eyes off his as he walked slowly up to your bedside. You motioned at the chair nearby so he could sit, at the same time he held the flower— daisies, carnations, yellow roses— out to you. The bouquet hit your hand with a hollow sound, as ‘M’ stuttered out an apology.
“O-Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! He-here these are for you.” You watched in fascination as his ears grew a deep red and his eyes fell to your scratchy hospital blanket in embarrassment.
A hand flew to cover your mouth as you giggled. But when he looked back up at you, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes. “Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you.”
The silence was a little awkward as neither of you were sure what to say while you stared lovingly down at the flowers. But then he seemed to start. “Oh. My name is Mark by the way. I… hope you don’t mind I brought the flowers myself this time. Or that I’ve been sending them at all,” Mark chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his now free hand.
“No I… I like them,” you whispered. “They’ve all been so lovely. Thank you. For sending them. Although I’ll admit I’m not sure why you’ve been doing it.”
Another blush lightly dusted the tops of his ears as Mark shifted subtlety in the chair. “I don’t really know myself, I just thought you were so pretty that night, and then I found out what was going on with your…. boyfriend,” he winced. “I have a friend that works here and while I was visiting him I happened to see you walking the hall with a nurse. The next day I walked by a flower shop and just thought you might like some flowers.” Mark shrugged. “That’s basically it. I hope you didn’t find them creepy, I didn’t really think that far ahead.”
You shook your head. “No, they were lovely. And besides, even if you were a stalker, it’s not like i’ll be here much longer.”
Mark shook his head hard. “Don’t think like that, you’ve still got a while, you don’t know how things might change.”
Your sad smile stabbed Mark through the chest. He wanted to hear your laugh again instead. He scrambled to change the subject. His whole purpose was to make you happy, not remind you of the situation. “I know I offered a drink, but i brought lunch instead. Hope that’s okay?”
On time, your stomach grumbled and you covered it with your hand, and a lightly embarrassing laugh. “That would be fantastic actually. What did you bring? Hospital food isn’t that bad but I’ve been deprived of a real meal for so long.”
Mark started coming every few days at lunch, until it turned into nearly every day. You could tell which days it was gonna be because he brought the flowers himself when he did. They still had poems in the card, and he started sharing with you which books they came from. Quite a few of them had been on your TBR list.
Some days he brought lunch with him, and others he ate the hospital’s food with you. Amy was all too happy to bring up two plates of food those days, and made sure you knew with the wink she sent you when Mark wasn’t looking. You just scoffed and waved her off. The amount of flowers you coughed up hourly hadn’t gone down a bit so you didn’t understand her excitement.
But you did feel better.
You found yourself being cheery for longer, and you even started considering the surgery. Jaemin wasn’t the only good thing the world had. And you were still 100 percent convinced he hadn’t hurt you on purpose. It wasn’t in his nature, never would be. Sometimes you wondered how he was doing, if he might have gotten the disease too after you left. You weren’t sure if you could hold feelings for two people at once, or if the stronger one determined if you got the disease or not. Maybe there was a study on it, but maybe you’d feel better not knowing. Despite it all, you didn’t want him to feel the pain you were going through.
“Do you not have anything else to do during your lunch break?” you asked Mark one day. He’d brought spaghetti from the Italian place you’d wanted to go to for months and months, and it was divine.
“Did… you not want me to come by anymore?” Mark asked carefully. He was avidly staring at his food.
“No! It’s not that at all,” you admitted looking down at your own plate, before looking back at him. All you could see was his brown hair. “It’s just… do you really want to spend all this time with me, when I… when I might not be here by the end of the year?” you asked around the lump in your throat.
You startled as Mark shot to his feet, setting his food aside quickly. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, watching as he walked briskly out the door, shocked by his display. You stared at the closed door, your bottom lip wobbling. Head hung, a tear dripped from your eye onto your food. A loose fist wiped at your tears in shock, hand shaky as you tried to wipe the offending water away.
Your knees came up against your chest as you laid your head down, upset at yourself for upsetting Mark. You hadn’t meant to, you just forgot to bite your tongue sometimes. Now he might not come back.
The creaking door brought your teary eyes up, widened in surprise as Mark walked back inside, his eyes downcast. “Sorry for running out so suddenly, I just- Oh my god why are you crying,” Mark exclaimed, horror written across his face.
A muffled sob escaped from behind your hand but you didn’t take your eyes off him as he rushed to your side, taking your face in his hands. Thumbs wiped the tears from under your eyes as he checked you over before crushing you to his chest. Your arms wrapped tightly around him, as if scared he would leave again.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your hair. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m so sorry, I just needed to step outside for a minute,” he frantically explained. “I don’t like hearing you talk like your life is a candle about to go out, and I needed to get some fresh air. I’m so sorry Yn.”
You felt every word against your hair, his hold tightening around you every time a cry escaped your body.Eventually your tears subsided into hiccups, but he kept holding you and stroking your back.
You gasped and pulled away as much as you could in his strong hold when you became aware of how much time had gone by, your head turning to the clock with difficulty. Definitely past the time he should’ve left by now. “You’re late for work!” you cried.
Mark turned to the clock as well, standing silently for a long moment before he shrugged.
“They can do without me for the rest of the day. I’m this late anyway. Look, your food is cold. Are you still hungry? I can have the nurses heat it up,” he offered. The plate and Mark were out the door before you could protest, leaving you more confused than before he’d come back.
When Mark returned, he was kinda quiet, lost in his own thoughts. But you still wanted his company so you didn’t say anything about it. When it came time for your afternoon walk outside, he accompanied you. There was a small garden outside the building that you liked to walk through. The benches half in the sun and half in the shade were your favorite places to spend your time.
A little while into your time outside, Mark loosened up a bit again and started reenacting a Shakespeare skit he’d seen recently while you giggled and clapped your hands. He promised to take you to a play some time in the future, and you found yourself agreeing to go with little hesitation.
The days continued on. Mark spent every lunch with you now, and he’d even met your friend a couple times. Together, the three of you planned a date with your doctors for your surgery. It was a big step, a huge one. Jaemin had once been the entire focus of your life, still was to the extent of your disease. But you had things to look forward to now. You’d never seen Romeo and Juliet in person, and one afternoon as you opened the card to read the day’s poem, a pair of tickets fell into your lap. Your mouth fell open as you looked down at them, unexpected tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.
“I tried to pick a date later in the year so you’ll be recovered but… I hope it’s okay,” Mark said tentatively.
Your lips turned into a pout from uncontrolled emotion. “I love it. Thank you Mark.” You pulled him into a hug, the bouquet and tickets on your lap between you. You laughed as you pulled back to wipe your tears away. “I cant believe I’ll get to go with you. I’m so excited!“
Mark grinned at you as you chattered on about the clips you’d seen on the internet, and what part you thought would be your favorite. You had your favorite moment from reading the story, but seeing it in person was bound to bring out different emotions for different scenes.
Harsh coughing interrupted your thoughts, looking over to find Mark practically doubled over. “Oh my gosh are you okay?” you exclaimed, swinging your legs off the bed to reach over to him.
Mark held up a hand, nodding even as he continued coughing. “Fine, I just need a glass of water,” he wheezed, stumbling out the door. He returned a few minutes later with a sheen of sweat.
“Do you need to see a doctor?” you asked worriedly.
Mark shook his head. “I think it’s just my allergies.” You furrowed your brows but you let it be for the time being. Eventually the whole incident left your brain, especially as your surgery date drew closer and closer.
The day of, Mark showed up with a bouquet of roses. Your face split into a bright smile, a warm feeling spreading through your chest.
Mark watched as your face lit up, his chest feeling light as air for the first time in weeks. Even with the surgery cap on your head you looked as beautiful as ever. The first time he laid eyes on you he thought you an angel, and he swore you got prettier every day, inside and out.
It was no wonder he’d fallen for you.
The relief he felt when you agreed to get the surgery was beyond words. It wasn’t that he thought you’d never love him back without the surgery. He just wanted you to live life without a broken heart once again, and enjoy it. He wanted you to live a long and happy life. And if by the hopeful chance you’d fall for him too… well who was he to complain?
So he kept his own flowers a secret, hiding the way his throat burned when he talked, making jokes that his bladder was small when you realized he left to the bathroom often. He’d kept it quiet for half the time he’d known you, and he could continue to do so for the rest of his life if he had to.
Mark promised to hold your roses for you while you went into surgery, assuring you he’d be waiting for you when you woke up.
Those three hours went swiftly by, so distracted was he on seeing you again he didn’t even cough up his daffodils. In fact, he hadn’t at all that day. He turned that realization over and over in his mind, until the doors opening caught his attention. He rose on leaden legs.
“She’s doing great,” the doctor smiled. “She should be conscious in the next half hour or so, if you’d like to wait for her in the room.”
Mark heard the words, but he wasn’t listening. Blood rushed through his ears as he walked the familiar hall to your room, quietly turning the handle to the door. You lay motionless on the bed, hair combed gently to the sides of your face. Mark’s hand trembled as he brushed a strand off your cheek. As his fingertip stroked your skin, he felt a flower rising up his throat. He stumbled into your bathroom, tears burning the corners of his eyes as he retched up daffodils.
Mark remained knelt by the toilet until the onslaught of flowers ceased. He fell back to rest against the cabinet, an arm over his lifted knee. The bouquet of roses sat an arms reach away, and a tear slid down his cheek. Mark remained that way for a while until he brought himself up on shaky legs to sit by your bedside where he held your hand until your eyes fluttered open.
Mark sat up straighter, the words ‘please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong’ a broken record in his mind. Your eyes found his, and he strained hard to see the spark your eyes always held when he walked into your room with lunch.
His stomach dropped and he felt the clawing of flowers in his throat again, as you uttered your first words.
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