Cuteness Aggression At It's Finest

lee know: slbs

One of my favorites🥰 I really love this 😩✋🏼

a/n: training minho to reach for you when he is hurt instead of being an angry little guy (inspired by this racha log clip)

you’ve seen it a few times now - minho stubbing his fragile toe against a corner and freezing, or bumping his elbow on a table and hissing slowly through his breath, his eyes closed and his head thrown back as if he is trying to control himself from combusting. him curling up on the couch with his legs pressed close to his chest, hands looking impossibly small where they’re clasped around his knees to hold them close, a deep scowl on his face completing the picture.

he seems angry to the average person, like he’s somehow mad about being hurt and is stewing in that fury while the pangs of pain evaporate from his system. you know better, though. you know he’s not angry, but frustrated. a little annoyed at himself because all he wants to do is curl up in someone’s arms and have them kiss his wound better like a tiny little kitten, but he can’t do that. because he’s minho, and minho’s complete brand is acting tough. sure, everyone knows hes a pure softie on the inside, but he can’t really go around showing it can he?

you’ve elected to convince him that he can. 

it starts when his morning coffee splashes on the back of his hand and he hisses, glaring down at his hand like he wanted to chop it off (or something else equally as violent). usually you’d let him calm down on his own, knowing his faux anger goes as quickly as it comes, but today you swoop into his space and cradle his hand in both of yours. you press a gentle kiss to the spot, coffee staining your lips as you meet his eyes warmly. you guide his hand to the sink and let cool water run across it, rubbing your thumb against his skin in what you hoped was a comforting way. 

“okay?” you ask once you’re satisfied with the temperature of his skin, wrapping a fluffy towel around his hand to dry it. he just blinks at you for a moment, head tilted so adorably that you feel a scream bubbling under your chest that you have to contain. he’s so cute. you finish making his coffee for him while he continues to stare at you with wide eyes, not faltering once until you press a kiss to his cheek on your way out of the kitchen. 

the second time is when he’s come home from dance practice, a little sweaty and tired and very sore all over. he’s grumbling about his muscles hurting under his breath and you can barely hear it, but you know him well enough to know that his aborted movements and sharp little exhales mean that he’s in pain and doesn’t want to say it. the way he sat himself on the sofa instead of showering first was also a sign - he liked to be clean, especially before relaxing. 

you wince in sympathy, knowing the exact feeling of muscle pain from exercise and while it comes with the benefit of self-satisfaction it almost isn’t worth the all-encompassing ache that comes right after. he reaches for his water but stops halfway, cringing at the stretch in both his arm and his abdomen, and falls back against the couch in defeat. you take pity on him, picking up his water and twisting open the cap for him, even going as far as to hold it up to his lips for him as he takes in greedy gulps. when he’s satisfied, he pulls back and fixes you with a suspicious look, like he’s asking what do you want with his eyes. 

you just smile at him in return, giving his upper arms a gentle massage with your hands as you lean at an awkward angle to press a flutter of kisses to his stomach. he’s a little dazed when you finish your ritual, melted back into the cushions with a glazed over look in his eyes, and you cuddle up next to him with a satisfied smile. 

“better?” you ask, letting your finger trail over his stomach in the pattern your lips had just made.

“yeah,” he breathes out, brow furrowing a little in confusion, thinking too hard. 

the third instance is perhaps the most challenging, because it happens in public. the street you’re walking down hand in hand isn’t the busiest, but there are bustling around corners and crossing streets. you’re not at all surprised when minho straightens up in excitement and pulls you to a tree at the end of a sidewalk, a tiny bundle of fur curled up underneath it. minho pulls out a little tube of cat treats from his jacket pocket, something he seems to have an endless supply of, and kneels down next to the small kitten.

the thing is, cats love minho. everyone knows that they do, it’s in his blood. you’re sure that he has cat genes somewhere in his ancestry. 

but, as the both of you discover, this particular cat does not love minho. he leans towards the poor thing, making soft noises with his mouth as he holds the opened treats out, and the cat lets out an angry hiss and swipes at him with its little paw. he lets out a yelp, falling back on his haunches in surprise and his betrayed gaze trails after the kitten as it scampers away. 

he raises the palm of his face to his hand, decorated with lines of angry red that don’t look too bad but you know they probably sting something fierce. he leaves the cat treats abandoned under the tree as he stands and you prepare yourself for the anger to set in but - it doesn’t come. instead, he looks up at you with wet, wide eyes and a trembling pout and your composure breaks.

you swoop in beside him and take his hand, blowing lightly onto his palm before pressing a light kiss to the corner of it. he rests his head on your shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of public skinship, not caring one bit of the passersby behind the both of you as he soaks in your comfort. you have to hide your shock - you didn’t have to come to him, he asked for you. he sought you out in his pain, didn’t get adorably angry, and leaned towards you. this wound was different, this one was personal, a betrayal of his brethren creating a mix of physical and emotional pain that  served as the perfect opportunity for your conditioning to run its course. 

with the way it’s going, you’ll have him perfectly trained in no time.

If my future doesn’t have a Bang Chan In it, change it please 🙏🏼

Home, Sweet, Home

pairing — idolbf!bangchan x f!reader

word count — drabble ∼900 words

warnings — she/her reader, fluff!!

summary — In a surprise visit to Bang Chan's studio, you accidentally appeared on his Instagram livestream. Bang Chan tries his best not show that you're there but obviously he's too whipped for you.

You scanned your keycard and unlocked the main door to JYP Entertainment. You made your way into the elevator as it hummed and moved upward. When the doors opened, you walked down the hallway, stopping at Bang Chan's studio.

Right after you knocked, the door swung open, revealing Bang Chan's surprised expression. He immediately gestured towards the camera, telling you he was doing an Instagram livestream. It was clear that you had caught him off guard, unintentionally making an appearance.

As Bang Chan regained his composure, he sat back down and quickly addressed the online audience, "Hey everyone, it was just Changbin popping in for a quick chat." A playful and knowing smile accompanied his words, aimed at reassuring his fans.

Silently, you moved towards a seat beside Bang Chan's desk, carefully choosing a spot that remained out of view from the camera. Chan subtly shifted his chair forward, edging closer to the desk as you exchanged a rapid glance. He slipped his hand discreetly under the table, extending his arm to rest his hand on your leg.

As Bang Chan continued engaging with the fans during the livestream, he occasionally turned his gaze towards you, allowing it to linger for a few moments. A warm, genuine smile accompanied this glance.

You joined the livestream to witness the interaction from the fans' perspective and look at comments. Looking at them made your eyes light up. Some were quick to notice Bang Chan's glances and smiles.

"He keeps looking off to the side. Who's there?""Is there someone with Bang Chan?""Bang Chan, is there a surprise guest with you today?""The way he smiles and looks to the side... there's definitely something going on"

It was clear that the audience was observant and deeply invested in Bang Chan's livestream. Meanwhile, Bang Chan thought he maintained the mystery.

Your eyes flickered up to Bang Chan, who looked back at you confused, likely because you seemed nervous. You gave him a reminder for him to be discreet and not draw attention to you. 

"Stop being so obvious" you mouthed silently.

He couldn't get the message, so he leaned forward, asking with a loud "Huh?" which made you facepalm at his stupidity. Meanwhile, Bang Chan, realizing what he had done, jumped in shock at his loud response.

"The staff is being silly," Bang Chan chuckled, quickly coming up with a cover to explain what had happened. He hoped that his laughter reassured the fans that everything was under control and that it was just a playful misunderstanding.

To avoid any more mistakes, Bang Chan pretended to check the time. "I think we'll wrap up for today," he announced with a friendly tone. "It was nice having an evening live with you guys! Bye bye!" He clicked his phone and ended the livestream, giving the Stays a cheerful send-off.

Bang Chan quickly shifted his attention towards you and buried his face in your lap, pretending to cry and yelled, "I'm so stupid." while he rubbed his face into your legs.

"You really are!" you laughed and ruffled his curly hair. "Next time you're doing this, let me know so I don't accidentally interrupt. I checked the comments and did you have any clue that they were suspecting something?"

Bang Chan looked up with his mouth wide open and responded, "I had a feeling they would've be curious, but I didn't expect it to become a game of 'guess who' during the livestream!" He wrapped his arms around you, showing a pout. "I'm so going to get fired," he exaggerated.

You chuckled and reassured him, "You're fine, Chan. You handled it like a pro"

"Did I, though?" He lifted an eyebrow, and you looked away from him.

"Yes, now let's go home. Get your stuff ready," you said to change the subject.

As you spoke, Bang Chan sat up, still wearing a mock expression of distress. "Fine, fine," he sighed dramatically, standing up and collecting his things. "But you owe me for saving the day!"

You both exited the studio, making your way through the hallway and back towards the elevator. Bang Chan continued to playfully grumble about the unexpected turn of events, but there was a lightness in his demeanor, and it was clear he found the whole situation amusing.

As you waited for the elevator, Bang Chan leaned in and whispered, "You know, I could get used to surprise visits during livestreams. It adds a bit of excitement, don't you think?"

You chuckled and shook your head, "Let's not make a habit out of it. We don't want fans thinking about it every time you go live."

The elevator doors opened, and you stepped inside. Bang Chan pressed the button for the ground floor, and as the doors closed, he grinned. "Fair enough. But it was kind of fun, wasn't it?"

"So now, you think it was fun. What happened to getting fired?" you replied, playfully which made him zip his mouth.

The elevator descended, and you soon found yourselves back in the lobby of JYP Entertainment. You exchanged goodbyes with a wave to the security staff, and you stepped out onto the bustling streets of Seoul. You found your car and went into a driver's seat. Chan hopped in as you turned on the engine. 

Chan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. "Home, sweet home!" he exclaimed as you chuckled and drove away from JYP Entertainment.

Pretty Dwakkei❤️❤️

my favorite binnie looks (257/∞)

⭑ Minho moments that live in my head rent free 61/?? ⭑

HE'S SO PRECIOUS 😭😭

Chan and Innie has me crying😭

Texting SKZ can you peel an orange for me

Pairing: ot8 x reader

Genre: fluff, crack

A/N: I’ve been seeing a lot of this trend going around and wanted to do my own take on it 🍊 hope you enjoy 😊

HAN / SKZ TALKER EP.61

I need someone to tell me they mega love me like Minho does 🙏🏼🧎🏻‍♀️

need you to [Lee] Know.

SUMMARY: minho loves you: to him, it’s as clear as water. Its only after he finds out that you’re starting to doubt it—he needs you to know just how much.

REQUESTED! here by an anonnie. I hope you like it, pookie, ‘cause I had fun doing this! <3

CW: slight hurt/comfort if you squint, but it’s just fluffy fluffy lino being really down bad and not knowing how to grasp it tbh which just gives me my serotonin dosis for the rest of the month lol

WC: 1.2k

A/N: also omfg kats posting two requests on the same day? that’s right baby, look at me go! 🤩🤩🤩

[🔅★🌼★🔅]

Minho was not the type to show his affection.

He comes off more like a shy kitten that slowly gets used to you, your sweet smell and how soft your touch feels, and then slowly opens up.

“But, uh… can I be real with you for a sec?”

It’s a feminine voice with a strong accent. He can hear it comming from your room, and the slight glitchiness of it makes it obvious that it’s a phone call set on speaker.

“Sure.” He can almost see you shrug, but he just closes the main door as soft as he can, pleading for the cats to stay silent for a little bit longer.

Minho can’t exactly place together why he’s overhearing your phone call. He knows who you’re calling, he can recognize Chan’s sister by her tone. But still, he keeps quiet, gently placing his bag down and silently taking his shoes off.

“I just— and don’t get me wrong, but, your boyfriend kinda seems… bored of you.”

What? Minho has to hold back a scoff, remaining as still as a statue next to the front door. He’s waiting for you to deny it.

“You think so?”

And then, he frowns, because you didn’t. Instead, your tone sounded hesitant. Dubious.

As if you weren’t sure if Minho loved you.

“You say he keeps cancelling your plans together. He has stopped making time for you. Like, girl, you can’t remember when was the last time he told you he loved you.”

Hannah pauses, and that only makes it worse, because it lets every word sink in.

“I uh, well. I ain’t gonna say that he should throw flowers at you every single second, but, uh, you know.”

He can only hear you groan loudly, almost picturing that cute motion you usually did when he meaningly teased you, taking your hair and covering your face with it.

“Can’t say anything for sure with him,” Hannah adds. “But, just by what you’re saying…”

Minho’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. He doesn’t want to keep hearing this... this nonsense. God, he loves you. And you… can’t see it? Frowning, he starts walking to your room, but his movements end in a halt, his hand just above the doorknob, threatening to grasp it and fully open the door.

“Girl, it’s gotta be late down there. Sorry this whole call was about me.” Your chuckle comes off slightly dry. “I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay? Go get some good sleep.” Your tone just screams how bad you’re feeling, and it just makes his chest swell with guilt that slowly creeps up his body.

Maybe he had been taking you for granted?

He opens the door as soon as you press the red button, sighing loudly after ending the call. When you see him, you jump in your place, startled by his presence, and you stand up awkwardly.

“Minho!” You say in a squirm. He can’t help but cringe slightly.

“No.” His tone sounds childish, like a petty toddler who didn’t want to eat the carrots in their lunch.

You frown slowly, the slightly wary grimace melting on your face, allowing a soft confusion to step in.

“No what?” You mutter.

He walks to you slowly, and grabs your hand, taking it to his chest, pressing it flat against his clothed skin, over his heart. You can feel his heartbeat, a not-too-slow rhythm: thump, thump, thump.

“Call me by a pet name. Any pet name.” He says, his tone equally firm and soft. “Call me by a pet name and say you love me.”

He’s serious, but god, so fucking nervous. His brain is slowly melting away because he’s so bad with words and he isn’t sure any action could be enough. He’s already blushing.

“I, huh… I love you, jagi.” You mumble, still confused.

And even if you don’t say it as fondly as always, or if your smile isn’t beaming like how it usually did, you can feel his heartbeat quickening.

“You can feel it, right?” His eyes are soft and worried.

Oh, God. You just know you’ve gotta be pouting. It’s hard to react with words, and the only thing you can fathom doing is linking your arms behind his nape and sinking your face on the crook of his neck.

“Min, I’m so sorry.”

“N-no, kitten.” He mumbles, hugging you tightly too. “I am the one who’s sorry.”

He breathes in, drowning in your soft fragrance. Home. It’s you, it’s warm, and he loves it.

He loves you.

So, he says it. He has to say it. He can’t not say it.

“I love you.”

And it feels so good to let it out that he chuckles. He has to say it again. “I love you.” And again. “God, I love you.” Just once more. “I love you so much.” He’s giggling like a fool, but he’s a fool in love, and that makes him blush even more. “I can’t not love you. Not loving you would turn everyday into Mondays. Like, I can get it tattoed if you want me to. I just. I love you so much that ‘I love you’ can’t even—.”

You move from his shoulder, now facing him, and you cradle his face, pulling him in a kiss that’s so sweet that threatens to give both of you type 1 diabetes.

“Y-you’re crying.” Minho mumbles, softly brushing the stray tears away with his thumb.

“It’s your fault, silly.” You sniff, giggling too. “How can you say stuff like that?”

Your heart is beating like crazy, the butterflies in your stomach are multiplying by seconds and in your cheeks glistens a bright and deep shade of pink.

You want to say it too. But in his own way.

So, you take his hand and settle it on your chest. Right above your heart.

It’s a rapid thump thump thump that Minho feels right away. He can’t help but smile widely.

“I super-mega-love you.” He teases, picking you up in between his arms.

You’re laughing, squirming in his hold.

“Lee Minho! Put me down!”

But he just grips your body tighter to his, and walking as if you weighted nothing, heading towards your bed, plopping you down there.

“Good girl.” He snickers, and you blush even further. Minho takes your chin tenderly and pecks your lips. For a moment, certain kind of idea flashes through his head, but he just kissed you again, following his previous thought.

He opens your closet with a toothy grin, and halfly eyes the window before picking up a random shirt, a grey hoodie that used to be his, a dark skirt and your thigh-high socks, going as far as to the suspenders for you.

He then turns to face you, his eyes glowing. He can’t wait to see you all dolled up. Minho feels like a teenager, and he loves it.

“You have twenty minutes.”

You blink at him, and you can’t help but smile, confused.

“I’m taking your cute ass to a date.”

It may not be an instant fix to the struggles to your relationship, but as you two walk down the beach, looking for colourful rocks that match each other’s eye colour, you know that he’s worth fighting for.

Regarding Minho, he happily hums to himself, eyes glued to your figure as you cackle and run in the beach, as you look behind you and giggle at the prints your boots leave in the humid sand.

He smiles, running towards you, tackling you and holding you in his arms.

He’s not letting go anytime soon.

~Kats, who always struggles to choose a picture for the fics because istg lino looks good in every single moment!!

I can see his smile through the mask🖤

Bang Chan ✧ 201225