Blame Me If You Want.

merin! thank you so much for your support, i love you so much! those lyrics took me an embarrassingly long time for me to write because writing poetry or anything that rhymes is very out of my comfort zone but i’m so happy with how it turned out! expect more original songs in here! also, thank you for the hug and the offer 🥹 you’re very sweet — you can also talk to me or vent at any time, i promise i’m here to listen.

ꖛ ꙳꯬ 🦇 ‘till forever falls apart 𓂅 ໋⋅

「 other works by green. 」 「 kofi 」 「 free palestine 」 「 series index 」

‧₊° pairing. han jisung x idol!fem!reader

‧₊° content warnings. han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression. reader has fibromyalgia. constant mention of being in pain. love-making. cussing. lots of angst. more to be added.

‧₊° rating. 18+

‧₊° summary. in which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

prologue. lady of the night

Lady of the night, come out and kiss your stars

Whisper to the moon, and show us where you are

A sea of people sang to you, holding their red light in the air as they did so. Under the harsh rain that hit their skin like bullets yet they remained in place, raising their voices to be heard over the constant thunder in your ears — a mixture of the weather and your own heartbeat.

In the shadows deep, where the lost souls weep

You dance alone, in the dark so far

The microphone in your hand was taken from your hands as people from backstage rushed to your aid, yet you held your hand up to signal them to stop as you slowly raised your gaze to see the crowd. Air ceased to exist the moment your eyes met theirs. The singing continued as they watched you, perhaps waiting for you to join them, though you genuinely could not find a single thread of motivation to help you through.

Oh, Lady of the night, with your eyes so bright

Guide us through the endless night

Though your body tensed and screeched in pain, you found enough strength to sit up enough to pull your feet from under yourself in order to sit down properly, ignoring the fact that this dress was not made for such a thing. Still, you allowed the rain to attack your body while your mind and heart was soothed by the sound of your very first song being sung by hundreds of people you were afraid might leave. But they didn’t. They have remained here, with you.

With your spectral light, take us to new heights

Lady of the night, be our silent guide

The people who were previously trying to help you exit the stage immediately were now standing to the side, ready to move at the beck of your call. Though your manager stood amongst those people, face red with fury as he burnt holes into your frail body. However, not a single care seemed to reach your conscience at this moment.

Winds begin to howl, as you make your silent call

Through the ancient trees, your ghostly footsteps fall

In the midnight air, there’s a longing there

For the dreams you weave, in your silver shawl

As the song continued on, your heartbeat slowed to a rhythm that didn’t seem to want to make her veins burst, and for the first time in weeks did you know peace. Pure and simple peace. The entire world spun steadily, your thoughts stopped racing, and air returned to your lungs like cold water at the height of the summer heat. Your eyes fell close, and the corners of your lips quirked up into a soft smile.

Although you hadn’t noticed at first, you’d been mouthing the words that started the snowball that is your career and it was as though you had finally grasped the lyrics you had written yourself.

Lady of the night, won't you come out and kiss your stars

In your tender light, we’ll forget our scars

As the song came to an end, you reached out to the person closest to you and with their help, came to your feet. This action seemed to encourage the audience as their voice grew louder, and you couldn’t help the tears that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding back.

Till the morning’s hue, we’ll dream with you

Lady of the night, wherever you are

Oh, what a time to be alive.

word count: 0.5k 🦇 posted: 06 • 01 • 2024

💬 a note from green;

by popular vote, i present to you: TFFA! i’m so so happy to be back guys, y’all have no idea the amount of stress i’ve been feeling and all the shit i had to deal with. i am quite literally penniless, am back home where all the stress and crap i try to avoid throughout the semester just sits there, waiting and now i gotta do something about it. i’m just…lowkey not okay haha.

anyways, i’m happy to be writing again! i know this one in particular is probably the shortest thing i’ve ever posted BUT more will come, this is just a snippet of the shitshow that’s coming and i’m honestly so excited.

( 🏷️ ) taglist: @agi-ppangx

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!

Hello everyone! As some of you guys may have noticed, I have been a bit inactive on my blog for a little while now. I know I had a whole Halloween event planned and everything, though I unfortunately haven’t been very successful in completing or making any progress on. The reason for this is that I’ve completely run out of the medications that help me with ADHD, which makes me unable to focus on a single thought for too long and therefore has given me writer’s block.

So, until I’m able to get my hands on the medication I need (which has been unnecessarily difficult), I will be taking a small hiatus from writing and this blog. Those who wish to contact me can do so on my Discord (it’s the same username I use here)!

Requests made prior to this announcement will be completed once I return here, but other than that, requests are now closed.

I’m really sorry for the inconvenience and/or disappointment, but this is truly what is best for me so that I don’t get burnt out or anxious. I hope you guys can wait for me :)

──── *ੈ♡⸝⸝ THROUGH MY EYES ( newjeans )

❛ In a quiet moment beneath the shade of an oak tree, you and Hyein discover the depth of your love for each other through a heartfelt drawing that captures the beauty you see in Hyein’s soul, leading to your first tender confessions.

𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐲𝐞𝐢𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 11 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Here's another wonderful request made by @dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Non-Idol AU, High School AU, insecurities and self-esteem issues, mild anger, brief crying, two school girls in love, let me know if I missed anything!

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

The late afternoon sun lingers low in the sky, casting a warm, honeyed glow over the park. Its golden light filters through the thick canopy of leaves above, creating a dappled pattern that dances gently on the ground beneath the sprawling oak tree where you and Hyein have settled. A soft breeze stirs the branches, carrying with it the fresh scent of grass mingled with the faint sweetness of wildflowers blooming nearby. The air feels alive with the gentle promise of twilight, a perfect blend of warmth and coolness that makes everything seem to slow down, inviting a quiet moment of reflection.

You and Hyein, still in your school uniforms, occupy a well-worn wooden bench that has become your chosen spot for the afternoon. Your bags are carelessly tossed on the ground beside you, forgotten for now. Hyein sits with one leg tucked beneath her, her back resting against the bench’s armrest, giving her posture a laid-back elegance. Her school blouse is slightly untucked, a small rebellion against the neatness expected within classroom walls. The sleeves of her crisp, white shirt are rolled up to her elbows, revealing slender arms that are now comfortably exposed to the cooling air. Her tie hangs loosely around her neck, a simple gesture that hints at the relief of finally being free from the day’s structured demands. Her plaid skirt is carefully smoothed over her legs, creating soft pleats that fall in tidy lines. On her lap, her sketchpad rests, her pencil hovering uncertainly above the paper as she contemplates the self-portrait assigned by your art teacher, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Beside her, you sit close, your own school blazer draped over the back of the bench, as if marking your shared territory. Your sketchbook leans against your knee, pages already filled with faint outlines and shadows as you work on your own portrait. Your tie remains knotted around your neck, though it has shifted slightly askew from the day's wear, giving you a slightly disheveled look. Every so often, your eyes drift from your drawing to Hyein's face, watching the way the sun caresses her features. The light catches the delicate curve of her cheekbones, casting soft shadows that emphasize the natural beauty in her expression. Strands of her hair, gently tousled by the breeze, frame her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, like a subject from an old painting.

Between the two of you rests a small pocket mirror, perched precariously on the bench. It's a shared tool, held between the brief pauses as you both glance into its reflective surface, examining your own faces with analytical intent before returning to the delicate lines of your portraits. The mirror catches the sun at certain angles, sending tiny flecks of light dancing around you, adding to the atmosphere of quiet intimacy.

Around you, the park is alive with the gentle sounds of a late afternoon drifting toward evening. The leaves rustle softly above, their movement creating a soothing, whispering melody. In the distance, the high-pitched laughter of children playing reaches your ears, mingling with the occasional chirp of birds hidden among the branches. Nearby, a small stream gurgles over smooth stones, its waters sparkling under the sun’s fading rays, creating a soft, calming background melody that weaves through the other sounds like a thread of tranquility. Occasionally, a few families or students from your school pass by on the gravel path, but their presence is like a distant hum—momentary and insignificant compared to the bubble of serenity you and Hyein have created around yourselves.

In this golden hour, time seems to stretch and bend, and you find yourselves lost in this quiet corner of the world, where every small detail becomes a story, every breath a shared moment of peace.

Hyein's usual bright expression seems dimmed today, like a cloud passing over the sun. As you sit side by side, sketching in the warm afternoon light, you notice her growing quieter, her brows knitting together in a frown of concentration—or perhaps something deeper. Her pencil hovers uncertainly over the page, and she has been staring at her sketch for what feels like too long. You can't help but watch her from the corner of your eye, a sense of concern tightening in your chest as you pick up on the faint tension in her posture, the way her movements have lost their usual fluidity. It's as if a storm is brewing beneath her surface, and you're close enough to feel its subtle tremors.

Moments pass, and you see the frustration begin to well up within her. Her lips press into a thin line, her grip on the pencil tightening as if she's trying to hold back a wave of emotion. Then, almost without warning, the dam breaks. Her hand moves with a sudden, furious energy, and the once-delicate lines of her sketch are obliterated by harsh, jagged strokes. The pencil becomes a weapon, each slash cutting across the page in a frenzy. The soft contours of what was supposed to be her self-portrait are lost beneath a chaotic lattice of dark, aggressive lines—an explosion of raw emotion laid bare in graphite.

The sound of the pencil's sharp edge scraping against the paper is grating, almost violent. You flinch, startled by the intensity of her actions, the suddenness of her discontent erupting into a crescendo that seems to scar the very essence of her drawing. The erratic marks dig deep into the paper, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil, each stroke bolder and darker than the last. It's as if she's not just covering the image of her face but trying to erase something deeper—something that words alone cannot touch. Finally, with a sigh that trembles at the edges, she drops the pencil, her shoulders slumping as her eyes lower to the mangled sketch in her lap.

You’ve been watching her with furrowed brows and eyes full of concern, unable to ignore the heaviness settling between you. "Hey, what's wrong? It was looking pretty good!" you offer gently, trying to coax a smile from her, but your words seem to fall flat.

Hyein turns away slightly, her profile guarded, as if shielding herself from your gaze. "I don't know..." she murmurs, so quietly that you have to lean in closer to catch her words. "Sometimes I just feel...I feel like I don't measure up."

Hearing this, you feel a pang in your chest. Setting the pocket mirror that had been resting between you on top of your sketchbook, you shift it all aside to scoot closer to her. Gently, you drape an arm around her shoulders and use your free hand to softly guide her face back toward yours. When you see her eyes brimming with unshed tears, your heart aches, confusion swirling within you as you try to piece together what could be making her feel this way. "Babe," you begin softly, your voice a tender whisper, "What do you mean you feel like you 'don't measure up'? I mean, look at me—I’m no Frida Kahlo. I’m kind of a mess, really. So, there’s no way your self-portrait could be worse than mine."

Your attempt to lighten the mood is met with a small, huffed-out chuckle from her, but her gaze drops again, her fingers fidgeting with her skirt in her lap. "It's not about my obviously superior art skills," she mumbles, a weak smile tugging at her lips. You let out a soft giggle at her attempt at humor, but your face quickly returns to its earlier expression of concern.

Hyein sighs again, the sound almost embarrassed, and her voice becomes quieter, as if she's confessing something she finds foolish. "I just...it’s so stupid, but I feel like I don’t look good...like, at all." She glances away, her words lingering in the space between you, heavy with vulnerability.

You pause, leaning in slightly, trying to catch her eyes and understand the meaning behind her words. "What do you mean?" you ask softly, a hint of confusion threading through your voice. You don’t bother hiding the bewilderment anymore; instead, you gently cup her cheek with your hand, thumb tracing delicate circles over her soft skin, hoping to offer some comfort. Yet, there’s a lingering frustration in the air—your failure to grasp her feelings only seems to add to it.

With a sudden surge of emotion, Hyein pushes your hands away, her touch firm but not harsh, and scoots further down the bench, putting distance between you. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, her posture defensive. Even in her irritation, you can't help but notice the blush rising to her cheeks, a deep, rosy hue of embarrassment spreading like fire. For a moment, she hesitates, her eyes downcast, her fingers fiddling with the edge of her skirt in a nervous dance. Then, almost as if the words had been yanked out of her, she snaps, "I feel ugly, okay?"

Her voice is sharper than you expected, cutting through the afternoon air like a blade, and it takes you by surprise. You blink, momentarily stunned by the harshness of her tone and the weight of her confession. It’s such a rare thing for her to admit; she’s always been the effortlessly confident girl who caught your eye with her carefree spirit and bright energy—the very things that had drawn you to her and made you fall for her.

But as the initial shock fades, a wave of tenderness washes over you. Your heart swells with affection, and a soft smile tugs at your lips. Without thinking, you scoot closer again, your knee brushing against hers. You reach out with both hands, a light giggle escaping your lips as you gently grasp her face, guiding her closer. You press a firm kiss to her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your lips. Then, without pause, you move to her nose, planting another gentle kiss there, before finally capturing her lips in a brief, tender kiss that speaks volumes in its simplicity.

When you pull back, your eyes fluttering open, you’re met with her adorable pout. She glares at you weakly, her irritation still lingering, though softened by the corners of her lips threatening to curve upward. There's a mixture of annoyance and reluctant amusement in her eyes, and you can't help but chuckle softly at the sight, finding an undeniable charm in her reaction.

"Love," you begin, your voice a soft murmur, steady yet filled with a raw earnestness. You pause, searching for the right words, though your gaze never wavers from hers—deep, unwavering, and filled with affection. "I wish you could see what I see...I wish you could feel the way my heart squeezes every single time I look at you."

Without giving her time to respond, you let your hands slide from her cheeks to her shoulders, fingers pressing gently but firmly into her skin as if anchoring her to this moment. Your voice, like a gentle breeze weaving through the leaves overhead, carries the weight of every unsaid thought, every unspoken feeling. "Hyein," you continue, each word a carefully placed step forward, "I don’t think you’d be able to handle what you do to my heart whenever your eyes light up while you talk about the things you love. You wouldn't last a day if your knees buckled the way mine do when I hear your laughter. It’s like a melody that always finds a way to brighten my dullest days, so contagious it lingers in the air long after you stop. If only you could see the way your kindness radiates, the way it makes you shine. Sometimes, it almost convinces me that you must be some kind of angel, not just a girl."

As you speak, you watch her closely, noting the way her eyes begin to shimmer with unshed tears. But this time, they aren't tears of frustration or insecurity—there's a smile blooming there, soft and wide, spreading across her face like the first light of dawn. Your words seem to float between you, almost tangible, as if they could reach out and wrap around her, pulling her into your heart.

Even so, a shadow of doubt lingers on her face, her gaze dropping down, her lips trembling between a smile and something more unsure. You can see she's still caught in that place between believing your words and believing her own inner critic. Without another thought, you decide to show her exactly what you mean.

Reaching for your sketchbook, the pages whisper as they turn, the rustle a soft accompaniment to the tender atmosphere. You flip to a blank page and take a deep breath, feeling a rare determination settle within you. You’ve never been one to put much effort into drawing before, but now, you silently plead with whatever gods might be listening, praying to any divine force in this endless universe for a miracle. Just this once, you beg, let me draw something that captures even a fraction of her beauty.

Without another word, you begin. The pencil moves across the page with a certainty you’ve never felt before, your hand guided by something deeper than skill or practice. As you draw, you start to speak again, narrating each careful stroke, each delicate line. "See here," you say softly, "the way your smile curves—it’s not just about the shape, but the warmth it carries. It’s like a quiet promise, like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm." You glance at her, catching the way her eyes follow each movement of your hand, her curiosity breaking through the last of her hesitation.

"And the way your eyes crinkle at the corners," you continue, your voice a soft, steady rhythm, "like they’re holding some secret joy. It’s more than just a detail; it’s a glimpse into your soul, into all the light you carry inside you." You shade in a section of the drawing, gesturing gently to the lines. "And the light in your hair here, it catches like it’s framing you, like you’re glowing from within."

As you bring her likeness to life, the world around you seems to hold its breath. The rustling of the leaves in the trees above, the distant laughter of children playing nearby—all of it fades into a soft, distant hum, creating a cocoon of quiet intimacy around the two of you. Hyein’s eyes remain fixed on the sketch, her expression softening, her lips parting slightly as she takes it all in, as if she’s finally beginning to see herself through your eyes.

When you finish, you pause, staring down at the drawing in your hands—a surprisingly good sketch that, despite your usual lack of artistic prowess, manages to capture not just her features but the light within her. It reveals the subtle expressions that make her so uniquely beautiful, the quiet moments that often go unnoticed by anyone but you. It’s more than a likeness; it’s a glimpse of her soul, the way you see her through the lens of your own affection.

Turning the sketchbook around, you hold it out to her like a precious offering, your heart pounding in your chest. Her eyes widen, the uncertainty in them shifting to something softer, something almost vulnerable. She studies the drawing intently, her gaze flicking back and forth between the lines and shades that capture the curve of her smile, the light in her eyes. Then, slowly, her eyes lift to meet yours, searching, as if seeking the truth behind your words.

"This is what Lee Hyein looks like through my eyes," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, suddenly shy in the face of your own revelation. You hadn’t realized just how deeply your feelings for her ran until this moment, how much of your heart you’d poured into this drawing. It feels like you’ve handed her a piece of yourself, raw and unfiltered.

For a moment, there is only the soft rustling of leaves above and the distant murmur of the world around you. Then, a small, genuine smile begins to bloom on her lips, delicate and fragile, like the first flower breaking through the snow after a long, cold winter. She leans in closer, her shoulder brushing against yours, warm and familiar. She hesitates, just for a heartbeat, before pressing a tender, electrifying kiss against your cheek.

"I love you," she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion, gratitude, and sincerity, each word weighted with a depth that sends a shiver through you. Your eyes widen slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you realize the significance of her words. This is the first time either of you has said those three sacred words. But Hyein’s expression is steady, unwavering, filled with a quiet certainty.

In that golden hour, under the shade of the old oak tree, time seems to stretch and slow. The world around you softens into a hazy blur of colors and distant sounds, fading away to grant you both this stolen moment of pure, unadulterated connection. It’s as if the universe itself pauses, holding its breath, to witness the spark that ignites between you.

With a surge of bravery, your heart swelling with a newfound courage, you lean in closer, your voice steady and clear despite the wild fluttering in your chest. "I love you, too," you reply, the words falling from your lips like a promise, firm and sure.

And there you sit, side by side, the world reduced to just the two of you. Her head gently comes to rest against your shoulder, and your heartbeats fall into a quiet, rhythmic sync, as if they were always meant to beat in time with each other. In that moment, you both feel like the only two people in the world, wrapped in a warmth that nothing could ever touch.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

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

Small Announcement from Green !

For those who do not know, I have an ongoing series called I Can’t Change (Bisexual!Felix x Male Reader). It’s about the Reader’s journey while in conversion therapy after being caught at a secret queer party.

Anyway, I have been feeling a little bit stuck with said story and I really couldn’t figure out why until recently. There was, admittedly, a lot of lack of planning on my part. However, I think I have a more solid idea of what I want out of this story. That means, though, that I will be deleting the chapters I have posted so far, rewriting them, and then posting them again.

It makes me sad to have to do this, truly, but I feel this is the best solution for me if I want to salvage this story and actually finish it. Hopefully, the rewrites can be done quickly and I can post them as soon as possible and carry on posting newer chapters. Hopefully!

Thank you to everyone who’s supported my series, it’s meant the whole world to me. I’m sorry for the inconvenience but I hope to make it up to you 💕

i find it quite embarrassing to those who are aware of the genocide but choose to remain silent. using the “i don’t get involved in politics” line as an excuse for your ignorance is absolutely shameful. this is a GENOCIDE that has been going on for decades. please do better.

ᥫ᭡ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. ( xdinary heroes )

❛ It’s the first time you use the strap on him.

𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐮𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ) 1.3k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Pegging is honestly one of my favorite things, so I absolutely adored this request! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, Junhan gets pegged for the first time, smut, Reader uses strap, handjob, strap rubs your clit.

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

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

The room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows that danced across the walls. You and Hyeongjun stood at the edge of the bed, the air thick with unspoken tension. You could feel the electricity between you, a palpable current that seemed to draw you closer.

With a gentle yet firm touch, you reached for Hyeongjun’s hand, guiding him to sit on the bed. His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of anticipation and nervousness evident in his gaze. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice trembling with a hint of vulnerability.

You smiled softly, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a fleeting kiss. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice carrying a quiet confidence. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him gently back onto the bed. Hyeongjun’s breath hitched, his body responding to your assertiveness with a shiver of excitement.

You climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips, and he looked up at you with a blend of awe and desire. Your fingers traced the line of his jaw, trailing down his neck to the collar of his shirt. “I want to take care of you tonight,” you murmured, your eyes locking onto his as you began to unbutton his shirt with deliberate slowness.

Hyeongjun’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling rapidly as you exposed more of his skin. His hands rested on your thighs, his touch hesitant, as if seeking permission. “You’re so beautiful,” you said softly, leaning down to place a tender kiss on his chest. Your words seemed to break the last of his resistance, and he sighed, his body relaxing under your ministrations.

With his shirt discarded, you took a moment to admire the sight before you. Hyeongjun’s skin was warm and inviting, his muscles taut with anticipation. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

He shook his head, his voice barely more than a breathless plea. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Your lips curved into a satisfied smile as you continued your exploration, your hands mapping every inch of his body with a mix of tenderness and control. You took your time, savoring each reaction, each gasp and moan that escaped his lips. The power you held over him was intoxicating, but it was tempered by the deep affection you felt for him.

When you finally leaned back, your eyes meeting his once more, you saw the trust and adoration in his gaze. It made your heart swell with emotion. “I want you,” he said, his voice a low, sultry promise. “But only if you’re ready.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. “I’m ready,” you replied, your voice steady, a contrast to the trembling of his hands as they moved to help you undress before you removed yourself entirely off the bed.

The room’s ambient light cast a warm glow on your skin, accentuating the intimacy of the moment. You stood by the edge of the bed, your eyes never leaving Hyeongjun’s as you reached for the strap. His breath seemed to catch in his throat, eyes widening with a mix of awe and anticipation as he watched your every move.

With deliberate slowness, you fastened the harness around your hips, the leather straps snug against your skin. Each motion was intentional, your hands moving with a practiced ease that spoke of confidence and control. Hyeongjun’s gaze followed your every action, his eyes darkening with desire. You could see his chest rising and falling rapidly, the anticipation making his breath come in shallow gasps.

You took a moment to adjust the fit, your fingers brushing over the straps with a languid sensuality before grabbing the bottle of lube and squirting a generous amount of it onto your hand. “Do you like what you see?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a teasing lilt as your lubricated fingers wrapped themselves around the plastic length now attached to you, stroking it slowly. Hyeongjun swallowed hard, his eyes locking onto yours as he nodded, unable to tear his gaze away.

“You’re… incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His words sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn’t help but smile, the power you held over him intoxicating.

You approached the bed with a slow, purposeful stride, your eyes never leaving his. Hyeongjun’s gaze traveled down your body, lingering on the strap, and you could see the hunger in his eyes, the way he bit his lip in anticipation. You climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself between his legs, and leaned in to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

“Are you ready for me?” you whispered against his mouth, your voice a sultry promise. Hyeongjun’s hands trembled as they came to rest on your hips, his touch both tentative and eager.

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes wide with trust and longing. “I want you.”

With a tender smile, you positioned yourself, your hand guiding the strap as you moved closer. Hyeongjun’s eyes fluttered shut, a soft moan escaping his lips as you began to enter him. The connection between you was electric, a dance of give and take, of trust and desire.

Once you managed to fill him up completely, you stilled. His face was scrunched up at the slight pain he’d expected, though it gradually relaxed as you pulled back slowly. In that moment, you were both lost in the sensation, the world outside fading away until there was only the two of you, intertwined in a symphony of passion and intimacy. The strap rubbed your core deliciously, adding to your own pleasure.

The room seemed to pulse with an almost tangible energy, the dim light casting your intertwined shadows onto the walls. You could feel the intensity building between you, a crescendo of emotions and sensations that left you both breathless.

As you moved against Hyeongjun, his moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that spurred you on. His hands clutched at the sheets, his knuckles white with the effort of holding on. “That’s it,” you murmured, your voice low and husky. “You’re doing so well, Hyeongjun. So perfect for me.”

His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and desire that took your breath away. Each thrust elicited another moan from his lips, his body arching beneath you in response to your movements. “You feel so good,” you continued, your words punctuated by the rhythm of your hips. “So beautiful, so perfect.”

Hyeongjun’s face was flushed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Please,” he managed to whisper, his voice cracking with need. “Don’t stop.”

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I won’t stop. I want to hear you, Hyeongjun. I want to hear how much you need this.” Your hand slipped between his legs, your fingers finding his own leaking length and adding another layer of sensation as you stroked him at a speed that matched your hips. The effect was immediate, his body trembling as he cried out your name.

“Beautiful,” you praised, your voice filled with a mix of affection and command. “You’re so good for me. So perfect. I love the way you respond to me.” Each word seemed to drive him higher, his moans growing louder, more desperate. The sight of him, lost in the pleasure you were giving him, was almost too much to bear.

You could feel the tension coiling in your own body, the shared intensity of the moment pushing you both closer to the edge. “You’re amazing,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I love watching you like this. You’re everything to me.”

Hyeongjun’s hands reached up, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you down for a kiss. It was a kiss filled with passion and desperation, a meeting of mouths that conveyed all the words you couldn’t say. “I love you,” he gasped against your lips, his voice breaking with the intensity of his feelings.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your heart swelling with the depth of your emotion. “So much.” And with those words, you both let go, the world around you dissolving into a haze of shared ecstasy.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open!

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

i’m the anon that requested the junhan fic and oh my god it was better than anything i could’ve imagined!! i am also a huge fan of pegging and xdinary heroes is my ult so if you don’t mind i might be sending a few more requests like this your way 👀

also could i be 🍀 anon please? thank you!!

Hey! It makes me so happy to know you enjoyed it! I was so excited when I received a request for XDH since there’s not many fics for them on here. I was also especially excited because it was for my bias 🤭 That said, you’re more than welcome to make more requests!

Also, of course you can be my 🍀 anon! Welcome to the family!

hi i’ve really enjoyed reading your work 🤗 can i make a request?

exes to lovers w/ jeongin where reader & him still try to have a good relationship & hang out w each other for the sake of their friend group but he kind of screws up by accidentally calling reader their pet name from when they were together?

(even better if it’s extra angsty🙂‍↕️)

Hey! Thank you so much for the request! I’m sorry it took me a hot minute to get it done, but I hope the length makes up for it 🥹 Please feel free to request again! ── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

────* ˚ ✦ ECHOES OF US

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 12.6K

i’m crying your theme and formatting is ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS (I hope you don’t mind if I borrow some ideas from your blog 😭💓)

THIS IS SO SWEET WHAT THE HECK TYSM 😭🫶 But no baby, I don’t mind you borrowing some ideas from me! Literally my own theme was inspired by so many different layouts and ideas until I finally created my own, so I totally get it!! Thank you for asking!

–Palestinian poet and editor of Mizna, George Abraham.