lemon detox

lee haechan x reader | "do you want this as much as i do?" | 903 words

> warning: long

no one would dare to go out tonight. the below-freezing temperatures make the pitch-black evening more unwelcoming than ever, and anyone with a brain knows that going outside on the iced roads in these conditions means certain doom.

it's one of the reasons why you were surprised to hear the doorbell chime right as you finally settled on a new show to start. surprised may be the wrong word here; horrified is probably more accurate since only a true psychopath would be at your house now. the other reason is because on the other side of the peephole was your ex-boyfriend, haechan.

it took a long time to get over your first love. in highschool, you were inseperable, but it had all gone downhill when haechan's parents had forced him to go to a prestigious college and focus on his future. it apparently meant that he could no longer see you, and after a curt text, haechan never reached out to you again. you often wonder where he is now, if he's doing okay, if he's truly lost feelings for you.

it's not as if you still like him now. right?

taking a shaky breath, you creak the door open and watch as your reflection appears in his wide eyes. haechan still has the golden hair and tan skin that suit him beautifully, and the rosy cheeks you used to make fun of have yet to disappear. he has snow hanging from his lashes that shake when he opens his mouth to speak, only to let out a puff of hot air.

"what are you - "

"i'm visiting for the holidays. my car is out of gas and you know my house is on the other side of town. please help me," he spills, his eyes pleading. you frown for a second before feeling the winter chill hit your bones and realizing how cold he must be, "just . . . come in. i'll get you some tea."

"thank you, thanks," haechan mumbles as he shuts the door behind him. he slips out of his frosted boots and hangs his scarf on the rack before rubbing his hands together. he looks lost. or reminiscent.

while you heat up the milk, you sense an intense stare and turn your head to find bright brown eyes watching you curiously. the sudden heat in your cheeks is uncontrollable, especially when you realize that you were in your comfy pajamas that you only wear when you're staying up all night and that your face probably looks horrifying with the deep dark circles you carry. it's not like this matters now: you already made eye-contact with him and he looks expectantly for a conversation.

"so . . . how's college?" you manage out. haechan bites his lip as he approaches, "it's good . . . yeah. i'm doing well, majoring in business there."

he sounds like he's trying to convince himself, but you don't push him further, "do you always visit your parents on break? i never see you around."

"i don't think my parents would like it much if i came to your place," he laughs awkwardly. what a stupid question to ask. as you internally smack your forehead, haechan steps closer until he's behind you by the stove, "you look happy though. are you okay?"

you pause for a second before sighing, reaching for a mug, "yeah. i'm doing fine."

"you're wearing your fuzzy socks. were you about to watch a show?" haechan muses. he knows you too well. it's not like you've drastically changed in the two years he's been absent but you expected him to slowly forget these minute details about you.

you didn't forget his, though.

"yeah, you interrupted me. thanks for ruining my night," you sarcastically scold. the two of you break out in laughter before awkwardly smiling at the floor. god, how did this happen?

pause.

"listen, i know it's been two years, ____, but - "

here it comes. "haechan, seriously, it's fine."

"it's not. i can't get you out of my head."

what?

did you hear him right? wait, wait, too fast, wh-

"i've tried, ____. my parents think i need someone with purpose, but to me, you are my purpose. i, god, you don't know how happy i was to see you open the door," haechan confesses. your eyes flit from the boiling tea to him in rapid turns, confused, "haechan, you haven't contacted me in years. you can't expect me to just forget about the pain you gave me."

"and i'm not," he admits, stepping closer, "i was wrong. but this, whatever i felt when i saw you making me tea . . . you're still the same girl i loved then, that . . . i love now. and i can't deny how right this feels. do you want this as much as i do?"

"i barely know you now," you lie. you know he hasn't changed. he shakes his head, "let me take you out tomorrow. i just, i missed you. so fucking much."

pause again. you shouldn't go back. you've spent so much fucking time and effort to forget him and live normally and you can't let it all go to waste just because he prances in and tells you that he's still in love with you. he would just break your heart again once he left for college. his parents would just disapprove. you'd have to try all over again.

zhong chenle x reader | "get on my back." | 623 words

there was nothing you hated more than the outdoors. the ungodly smell of feces and weed currently surround your campfire that's shared between your scavenger hunt group. the only reason you're here is because the horrid summer camp your parents forced you into has now assigned pairs and sent you off into the swamp-like woods to find some goddamn "golden branch".

and of course fate has partnered you with zhong chenle, some rich kid that is much cuter than you'd like to admit.

"okay, so according to the last clue . . . we are supposed to cross the river?" the blonde hums. you glance at chenle's smile as his expression lights up, mad that someone can look so good while talking about something so colossally idiotic. he gives you a hint of a smirk, "____, i'm not going to quit just because you're glaring at me."

"i'm not glaring! i just don't get why you want to find some spray-painted twig. we can just chill at our tents!" you pout. chenle reaches his hand out and pinches your cheeks softly and affectionately, "we can . . . after we cross this. let's go."

cute and mean.

it's not long until you find a small stream emerge from the shrubs, and chenle gives you an award-winning grin before whipping out a paper from a nearby tree, "and now we hop on the rocks! think you can handle it?"

"i'm too lazy. this is exhausting."

"get on my back. i'll carry you," chenle raises a brow, puffing his chest to look tall. you hold back a snort, "yeah sure, as if your scrawny ass can hold me."

chenle flips his hair and watches as you tread slowly on the wet stones, his nerves on edge. it would be a huge problem if you actually did get hurt, and it would suck to see you in pain and upset. also, you'd probably be mad at him the whole time for dragging you along.

chenle struts after you finally reach the other bank and waves his hands in the air, "hey, ____! want to see something cool?"

"you're going to get hurt," you deadpan, but chenle ignores you and does a small twirl on the rock. when he hops mid-air, he barely lands on the slick surface and wobbles. you gasp involuntarily at the idiot giggling in front of you, "get over here already!"

"i am, i a-ah!" chenle yelps as his foot slips on the last stone, causing him to drop down into a split immediately. he groans as he lands directly on the rough surface and you immediately reach out and wrap your arms around his torso, lifting him onto the bank. his hands are gripping his crown jewels in excrutiating pain, and it takes all of you energy not to scold him for being reckless, "are you . . . okay?"

"yeah . . . yeah . . . oh god, my dick . . ."

you give him a weird look before sighing and squatting in front of him, "get on my back."

"huh?" chenle groans. you sigh and roll your eyes, "you literally slammed your nuts against a rock, you clearly can't walk. i'll piggyback you."

"i - fine. this is embarrassing," he averts his eyes as he reaches and wraps his legs around your waist, hugging you close. chenle smells like peaches and wood, and it's a nice contrast to the pungent odor of the swampy forest. though he can't help groaning and rambling as you trudge through, he slowly quiets down until you only hear his sing-songy voice every few minutes, reminding you where to go. it's nice, the occasional silence, the tight grip around your shoulders, the chin in the crook of your neck, and -

"look up."

"huh?" you mumble, raising your head.

lee minhyung x reader | "is that blood? are you okay?" | 515 words

> warning: mentions of blood

you wake up to the faint pink sunlight filtering through the curtains onto your eyes. it's blinding yet welcoming, and you stifle a yawn underneath your plush covers before stretching your legs from their curled position. the warmth zips through your toes up to your ears, and while enjoyable, something doesn't feel right. you turn your head to the left slightly and sigh at the empty indent in the mattress. your boyfriend, mark, must've just woken up already, which isn't surprising since he's an early bird. you squint around the room for a sign of him, but find none.

looks like this morning consists of a impromptu game of hide-and-seek.

"mark?" you swing your legs off the bed while calling your boyfriend's name softly, "you up?"

there's silence and then the familiar thud of the fridge door closing. you sigh lovingly at the thought of mark making breakfast. his pink lips are probably pulled in a thin line of concentration, and you can picture the way his nimble fingers twist the dials on the stove to an even temperature. god, he's cute even in your imagination.

"mark?" you call out once more, leaning from the door that connects your bedroom to the open sitting area and kitchen. right as you turn the corner, you see the man himself twirl at the mention of his name, pan in hand, and conk his head on an open cupboard.

"shit!"

"mark!" you gasp, trying not to giggle at the sight of your boyfriend groaning and clutching his forehead, "honey, i - oh my god. is that blood? are you okay?"

"i . . . ow," he pouts, gripping his hairline tightly. blood trickles between his fingertips slowly, and mark places the pan down to properly lean on the kitchen counter for support. you rush over quickly, immediately removing his hand and inspecting his cut. ouch.

"aw, mark, let me find a band-aid," you fuss, opening some drawers for some spare boxes. your boyfriend gives you a lopsided smile, "it's alright, i'm okay. i'll look for one myself."

"no! you're bleeding! take a towel and wipe off the blood and i'll be back with something," you command, making mark crinkle with appreciation and laughter. as he roams the kitchen for a cool towel, you whisk a small band-aid from your bathroom and hurry back. as much as you feel bad for mark, the scene of him banging his head straight-on with the corner of the cupboard sends you into hysterics and it takes a lot of restraint not to burst out laughing when you spot him checking out his wound on his selfie camera.

when he spots you, he subconciously leans his head towards you so you can pop the band-aid on his head.

na jaemin x reader | “i don’t think i can do this anymore.” | 684 words

it's happening again.

jaemin swore before he wouldn't miss another date. he's stood you up for the fifth time in a row, and it hurts more than usual this time. it's probably because you even texted him about the firework show in the park this morning and he had agreed to come straight from work, but it's nearing ten and you know jaemin gets off at five.

you let your body slump against the wooden bench facing the river. couples are sitting on blankets in the grass and riding bicycles throughout the bank, their blissful faces illuminated by the lights bursting in the dark sky. peals of red and blue shine brilliantly over the water. jaemin would've liked this. you clutch the box in your palm tighter, still retaining some shred of hope he would make it.

it's useless if he even comes. jaemin was someone who had his head in the clouds permanently. his eyes always glossed over when he talked about work and you can hear him sing breezily when he comes home, his spirits lifted from a hard-worked day. you used to encourage his drive, finding his attitude attractive, but lately, you haven't seen him as much as you'd like. he's always out late and missing calls, and now he's skipping the date you scheduled days ago. you miss the boy who would rush to your location randomly and hand you a flower that reminded him of you, or the one who called you in the middle of the night to practice an original pick-up line. 

"____?" a soft-spoken voice stands out from the crackle of the fireworks and you sigh before turning your head around. a brunette stands there with rolled-up sleeves and a wilting bouquet of daisies. his eyes are heavy with an emotion you can't place, and you watch his parted lips as he approaches you.

"did . . . did you wait long?" he stumbles, his voice barely above a whisper. he steadies himself by gripping the bench, sitting slowly, and watches your turbulent expression with hesitation. you want to get mad and yell at him, tell him the way you've felt lately, force him to not miss a sixth date, but something about the calm river and the riveting display of light restrains you.

"five hours, jaemin. that's how long i waited here. i was stupid not to leave after 30 minutes."

he shakes his head in worry, "no! listen, my team just assigned a new project and trust me, ____, it's big. so we got to work today, but before i knew it, fiv- "

"yeah. five hours had passed. you were late to yet another date, jaemin." you feel your ears warm with emotion as your voice gains stable confidence. jaemin can only swallow in guiltiness and place the flowers below the bench before clasping his hands together, "i'm sorry, ____. i won't do it again!"

you frown, impatient, "no, jaemin. you won't. i don't think i can do this anymore."

"what?" jaemin's mind races with scattered thoughts, the reality of the situation hitting him, "y-you . . . are you breaking up with me?"

"yes? no? i don't know, jaemin! it's been months since i've gotten to see you! you come home late at night and leave early in the morning, and i don't remember the last time we went out as friends, much less lovers! am i your fucking girlfriend or just an extra pillow in your bed!?" you pause, breathing hard. your voice is not loud enough to attract attention, but it's loud enough to make jaemin hang his head in disappointment and self-loathing. the vibrant blue and red hues shine on his silky hair for milliseconds at a time, fading just as fast as they had appeared.

 jaemin takes a shaky exhale and looks straight up, trying hard to think of some way to make this right, but his mind is blank. 

park jisung x reader | “have you ever kissed someone before?” | 582 words

> warning: underage drinking

jisung clambers onto your rooftop and gently sets down three dark bottles, his cheeks bright and flushed, "i did it."

"took you long enough, park," you grin, gripping the nose of the tallest one and reading the label before unscrewing the top, "now we can get to drinking."

"i already feel bad," the boy smiles widely. his glittering eyes, sharp from the cold night, glance at your bottle hesitantly before settling on the horizon, "you're lucky i like you."

a small giggle slips from your stinging lips at jisung's comment. you've always known of your friend's feelings towards you, but there's always been something stopping you from accepting his heart. maybe it's the fact that you've known him since middle school, and he's too close for comfort. maybe it's because you feel like he deserves someone who can match his kindness and selflessness, and not someone who calls him up onto the roof at two in the morning to drink alcohol and chill. it's not that you felt like a bad person, but you definitely weren't a complete angel. and jisung deserves an angel.

"you're going to make me drink by myself?" you pout, holding the drink towards the black-haired boy. his puffy eyes close for a moment in consideration before he wraps his hand around the body of the bottle, tipping the alcohol into his mouth. another laugh escapes you as he coughs and wipes his mouth with his hand. he glares at you, a playful glint in his eyes, "god, my tastebuds do not like that."

it stays like this for a bit: you comment something small and offer jisung sips from your drink, which he reluctantly accepts every time. his timid sweetness disappears after a few turns, and soon it's only incoherent jokes and loud laughs spilling out of his mouth. this side of jisung is new and fresh, like an almost ripe, bitter fruit. his eyes linger on you for extended amounts of time and you feel your heart pound under his glossy stare, not sure what to think. instead, you smile.

"you know, this whole time you've been indirectly kissing me!" you squeal, laying back on the rough surface, "we've been drinking from the same bottle!"

jisung huffs, murmuring something about stealing before mimicking you, laying beside you and facing the starry sky. you stay silent for a beat and then turn to face him, gazing into his watery eyes, "hey. have you ever kissed someone before? like actually."

"i, uh, shit . . . don't make fun of me," he averts his eyes, biting his cherry lips. his face is tinted pink from the cold and your proximity, and you aren't sure how he's somehow more perfect than ever. his downcast eyes, his scrunched nose, his alcohol-scented breath seem so right at this moment. you laugh breathily, "do you want to kiss me?"

jisung’s eyebrows nearly shoot off his forehead when he hears your question. he's sure the alcohol is messing with his head, especially when you lean closer and reach for his cheek. his shaky vision flits from your eyes to your lips again and again until you press your lips against his. he's soft and warm and in the same wide-eyed position as he was before when you pull back seconds later, both of you exhaling hard. before he can speak, you turn onto your back again and spread your arms wide, embracing the cold air before dawn.

a little prompt list for you guys! send a number + member [+ genre if you care] in my asks for something short!

i don’t think i can do this anymore.

you stress me out!

does this make you mad?

i wish you could see how i feel.

it’s not my fault you can’t stop thinking about me!

what the fuck are you doing in my bedroom?

my mom says you’re wrong!

do you want this as much as i do?

is that blood? are you okay?

you told me there would be food.

i hope we never get married.

you fucked me over!

don’t you ever get tired?

i’m not sure how i feel.

you know that i know that you like me.

you’re going to hate me, but . . .

i thought you were some creepy pedophile.

want to watch the moon?

get on my back.

have you ever kissed someone before?

quit stealing my seat!

how could you forget?

there’s something wrong with me. i can’t stop thinking about you.

that was a really bad pick-up line.

what the hell are you watching?

i thought you loved me.

technically, this isn’t fair.

is that a shrine of me?

every time you talk, i lose brain cells that didn’t even exist in the first place.

i just had the weirdest dream about you. 

so you’re telling me of all people, you’re a god?

i really need a hug. please?

today’s not my birthday, though.

whatever this is, it’s not working.

[10:09 pm] classmate!chenle can't sleep again. every time his eyes get ever so close to shutting, the memory of you and his friend render him alert, and he's forced to go through the pain again.

it wasn't your fault, or renjun's, for that matter. you both didn't know a thing. he just wishes the timing hadn't been so wrong. of all days renjun could've confessed, he decided to do it on the day chenle had finally gathered all his courage and bought a small present to give to you if you accepted his love.

chenle sighs. he knows the dainty necklace with a pendant of two hands interlocking is still in the box he bought it in, stuck in the third drawer of his dresser. he also knows that you definitely would've said yes if renjun hadn't come in first.

[4:08 pm] movietheateremployee!yangyang sighs as another couple comes up to the counter, ordering the jumbo popcorn. he’s pretty sure there’s something in the air around this specific theater that attracts lovers because, for some reason, they’re everywhere in the lobby. they’re cuddling by the vending machines, holding hands as they head down the hallway to their showing, and teasing each other at the food counter.

yangyang really wish he didn’t have to work the food counter today.

his mind wanders a bit to his friends and wonders what they’re all doing on this lovely afternoon. maybe they’re all together, watching a movie at someone’s house, making their own popcorn, not smooching each other every five minutes. maybe you’re there as well.

yangyang can’t even begin to wonder about you without getting all flushed. one of the men at the counter gives him a weird stare and grabs his drinks, slightly confused as to why the young highschooler is all red after interacting with a customer. yangyang doesn’t really care about some movie go-er though; instead, he’s busy thinking about what movies you’d like, and if you’re the kind of person who likes cheese or caramel on their popcorn. maybe you even prefer pretzels. you would look really cute eating a cinnamon pretzel.

“yangyang!” a voice distracts the blushing boy from his thoughts, and for a second, he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming when he sees you at the counter. he murmurs a small hey as you come closer with a big grin.

“i remember you telling me you worked today! what’s up?” you ask, and yangyang shakes his head as he slowly realizes that you are, in fact, not a figment of his imagination, “uh, it’s pretty crowded today, as you can see. what are you seeing?”

“um, actually, i just bought a ticket for some random movie, but i really just came to see you,” you admit, your expression growing more and more flustered as the words come out. yangyang’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and his hands fly to his mouth to hide the smile spreading on his face, “seriously? that, um, means a lot. thanks.”