mika

'05

[junivrse]

mika's reblogs

nct

[any works with mark will no longer be reposted]

127 — johnny taeyong yuta

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀doyoung jaehyun jungwoo

dream — mark renjun jeno haechan

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀jaemin chenle jisung

wayv — kun ten winwin xiaojun

⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀hendery yangyang

riize

shotaro eunseok sungchan wonbin

seunghan sohee anton

⤹ ˗ˏˋ more ´ˎ˗

[winwintea]

target aquired!

PAIRING ↬ demon!lee donghyuck x angel!reader

TAGS ↬ romance, action, THE TENSION IS REAL, angel and demon au, supernatural, there’s no angst or horror this time (shockingly i know), happy ending (?) too i know i don’t do that normally, taeyong is like michael such a cutie angel, y/n chases haechan for most of the fic, they also do a little dance

SUMMARY ↬ as part of your next mission, you've been tasked to 'capture' an infamous demon, lee donghyuck who's been causing mischeif on the mortal realm. this won't be easy.

WORD COUNT ↬ 2.6k words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ for @lyvhie EVEN THOUGH HER BIRTHDAY WAS YESTERDAY I APOLOGUZE PLEASE FORGIVE ME 😭😭 this was super rushed so it’s probably ass let me fall flat on my face pls.

PLAYLIST ↬ be mine - ofenbach; angels - vicetone, kat nestel; chained to the rhythm - katy perry; love shot - exo

THE CELESTIAL HALL OF HEAVEN'S COMMAND CENTER GLEAMED WITH ETHEREAL LIGHT,

its walls made of swirling clouds and translucent marble. Y/N, a high-ranking angel known for your relentless pursuit of dark forces, stood at attention before Archangel Taeyong. Despite the serene setting, the weight of your new mission settled heavily on your shoulders.

Taeyong’s sharp gaze locked onto yours, his wings shifting with an air of authority. "Y/N, we have an urgent assignment for you. Lee Donghyuck has resurfaced."

At the mention of the name, your brows lifted slightly. "The slippery one? The demon who turns every confrontation into a performance?"

Taeyong’s lips pressed into a thin line. "That 'slippery one' has eluded Heaven’s grasp for centuries. He’s more dangerous than his antics suggest. Cunning, charismatic, and unpredictable. And now, he’s causing chaos in the human world."

Your confidence didn’t waver. "I’ve taken down worse."

Taeyong stepped closer, his tone hardening. "Donghyuck is unlike any demon you’ve faced before. He thrives on manipulation. He’ll twist your thoughts, bend reality to his will—and he’ll do it with a smile."

Your lips curled into a smirk. "Sounds like he’s overdue for a reality check."

Taeyong, unamused by your humor, handed you a scroll sealed with Heaven’s golden crest. "He’s currently blending in at a human establishment. You’ll find him at a bar tonight. This is a high-priority mission, Y/N. Don’t let your guard down."

Taking the scroll, you gave a mock salute. "Understood. Catch the charming demon without falling for his tricks. Piece of cake."

Taeyong’s expression softened slightly. "You’re one of our best, Y/N. Just remember, even the best can falter."

You turned to leave, the weight of your mission and Taeyong’s warning lingering. Yet beneath your determination, a flicker of curiosity sparked. Lee Donghyuck may have been a master manipulator, but he had yet to meet you. And you were ready to change that.

As the gates of Heaven’s command closed behind you, the celestial light faded, and you descended into the human realm. Prepared for whatever, or whoever, awaited you.

The mortal realm was as chaotic as you remembered—vivid neon lights pulsing against dark city streets, laughter and music spilling from bars and clubs. Humans thrived in their imperfections, their energy a stark contrast to the serenity of Heaven.

You landed silently in an alleyway, your wings vanishing the moment your feet touched the ground. You adjusted the black leather jacket over your fitted dress and took a deep breath, already sensing the faint trace of demonic energy lingering in the air. It was like static electricity—sharp, electric, and unmistakably Donghyuck.

Following the trail, you soon found yourself outside a bar at the heart of the city. The music was loud enough to make the pavement hum, and the atmosphere was charged with temptation. A fitting stage for a demon like Donghyuck.

Stepping inside, your gaze swept the crowd. Humans danced and drank without care, lost in their own worlds. But your focus remained sharp, cutting through the noise. You felt him before you saw him—a magnetic pull that set your nerves alight.

At the bar, Lee Donghyuck leaned against the counter, a glass of whiskey in hand. His dark shirt clung just enough to highlight his frame, the top buttons undone with calculated carelessness. His hair, messy but deliberate, fell over eyes that held both amusement and danger.

He had felt your presence the moment you crossed the threshold. There was no mistaking it—the celestial energy was as potent as sunlight cutting through storm clouds.

Instead of running, Donghyuck grinned. Of course they’d send someone like you. He could practically taste the resolve radiating from you, laced with a hint of curiosity. You were here to capture him, but oh, this was going to be fun.

When your eyes finally met, he lifted his glass in a mock toast. "Well, well. They finally sent me an angel. And not just any angel."

As you approached, Donghyuck’s grin widened. "Y/N, right? I’ve heard about you. Relentless, driven, dangerously stubborn. And they weren’t exaggerating about the looks.You’re fine as hell. Literally."

You stopped a few feet away, your expression unreadable. "Lee Donghyuck. You’re awfully calm for someone about to be captured."

Donghyuck chuckled, setting down his glass. "Captured? Sweetheart, if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask."

He leaned back, his posture relaxed but every word calculated. Let the game begin.

He tilted his head, studying you. “You’ve heard about me, haven’t you? I bet you were told to be careful. That I’m dangerous. Charming, too. Am I living up to the hype?”

“Dangerous, yes. Charming?” You gave him a once-over, unimpressed. “Not really.”

Donghyuck chuckled, “You wound me, angel.”

“Don’t call me that,” you said, your tone sharper than intended.

“What should I call you, then?” he asked, eyes narrowing in amusement. “Y/N? Or maybe something more affectionate? Sweetheart? Darling?”

You glared at him. “You think this is a game.”

“Of course it’s a game,” he said smoothly. “But I play to win.”

You weren’t about to let him get under your skin. His whole act was a distraction. A carefully crafted performance to make you hesitate. Too bad for him, you didn’t hesitate.

“I’m here to take you in, Donghyuck,” You said, stepping closer. “One way or another.”

He leaned in just enough to invade your space without actually touching you. “And what if I don’t want to go quietly?”

There was a spark in his gaze—a challenge. He was baiting you.

“I’ll drag you out of here if I have to,” You said flatly.

Donghyuck grinned. “Feisty. I like that.”

You crossed your arms, refusing to react. He could talk all he wanted; You weren’t playing his game.

“Tell you what,” he said, standing straight. “How about a little wager?”

“I don’t gamble.”

“No? Not even for me?” He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”

“What?”

“Dance with me,” he repeated. “Right here, right now. If I win—well, we’ll talk about what happens if I win. And if you win? You can do whatever you want.”

It was a ridiculous proposal. But there was something about the way he said it—calculated and deliberate. He wanted to see if you’d refuse. If you’d play by his rules.

You took a deep breath. “Fine. One dance.”

“Perfect.”

The bar’s floor wasn’t made for ballroom dancing, but that didn’t stop Donghyuck from making a show of it. He led you to the open space in the center, the music shifting to a sultry, pulsing beat that felt almost too fitting.

He turned to face you, all lazy smiles and swagger. “Ready?”

“Always,” You said, refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking nervous.

Donghyuck stepped forward, his hands hovering just above yours without making contact. The air between you crackled with energy. You weren’t dancing yet. This was still the warm-up, the buildup before the inevitable clash.

When you two finally moved, it was like a battle disguised as choreography. His steps were smooth and fluid, designed to throw you off balance. You matched him, each movement calculated to keep you in control.

“Not bad,” he said, spinning you effortlessly. “You’ve got some fight in you.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” You shot back.

He dipped you suddenly, his face just inches from yours. “I’m starting to think I like you.”

“Don’t get attached,” You said, your tone icy.

His grip tightened just enough to remind you he was still a demon—a predator dressed up as a prince. But you weren’t prey.

The music intensified, and the dance became a blur of sharp turns and close calls. Every movement felt like a challenge—a dare to see who would falter first. But you didn’t falter. You didn’t give him an inch.

As the song reached its crescendo, Donghyuck pulled you close one last time. “So, angel. What’s the verdict?”

“The verdict is that this dance is over.”

He didn’t let go immediately. His smile was softer now—still dangerous, but almost... curious.

“I’ll give you this,” he said. “You’re not what I expected.”

“And you’re exactly what I expected,” You said, stepping back.

As the last note of the song faded into the bar’s background noise, you prepared to make your move. Your hand twitched, ready to summon a blade of divine light the moment Donghyuck dropped his guard.

But when you looked up, he was already gone.

In his place, a napkin rested on the bar counter. Written in a bold, looping scrawl were the words:

Catch me if you can.

The napkin carried the faintest trace of brimstone, his calling card. You clenched your teeth. Of course, he wasn’t going to make this easy.

Fine. You weren’t one to back down from a challenge.

The chase was on.

Your search took you to a moonlit park just beyond the city limits. The air was crisp and quiet, broken only by the soft rustling of leaves. It was the kind of place that felt timeless—a perfect hiding spot for a demon who thrived on theatrics.

You moved with purpose, scanning every shadow and tree. The park’s fountain glistened under the moonlight, its water reflecting the stars above. And then, as if summoned by your thoughts, Donghyuck’s voice drifted through the night.

“Took you long enough.”

He stepped into view, his silhouette framed by moonlight. His shirt was still unbuttoned just enough to make you roll your eyes.

“Running already?” you asked, keeping your tone light despite the tension. “I thought you liked games.”

“Oh, I love games,” he said with a grin. “Especially when the stakes are this high.”

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “Stakes? You’re just afraid to lose.”

Donghyuck tilted his head, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Afraid? Angel, I’m the one setting the rules.”

“Then why are you the one running?”

His smile didn’t falter. “Because it’s more fun when you’re chasing me.”

With that, he vanished again—one moment there, the next gone like a shadow slipping through your fingers. But not before leaving behind another note, tucked under a stone by the fountain:

You’re getting warmer.

The next location was an old theater, long forgotten by the city. Dust-covered seats lined the aisles, and faded posters of past productions clung to the walls. The stage loomed at the far end, its curtains drawn tight as if hiding something—or someone.

You moved through the theater with caution, every step stirring up dust and memories of past performances. There was no sign of Donghyuck, but his presence lingered—unmistakable, like the faintest hum of an encore waiting to be sung.

“You always had a flair for drama,” you called out, your voice echoing through the empty space.

“And you always had a flair for ruining it,” came Donghyuck’s reply, disembodied and teasing.

The sound seemed to come from everywhere at once. You scanned the seats and stage, but he remained hidden.

“You can’t keep running,” you said.

“Running?” His laugh was light, playful. “I’m putting on a show. Aren’t you entertained?”

“Not really.”

There was a sudden flutter of movement—a shadow darting from the wings of the stage. You lunged, but by the time you reached the spot, he was gone again. In his place, another note:

You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.

By the time you reached the rooftop garden, the city was bathed in the golden glow of pre-dawn. Flowers bloomed in raised beds along the perimeter, their colors muted under the fading moon. A cool breeze swept through the space, carrying the scent of lavender and something darker—Donghyuck’s presence.

You found him standing at the edge of the rooftop, the city skyline stretching out behind him. This time, he didn’t run.

“Tired?” he asked, not bothering to turn around.

“Hardly,” you said, stopping a few feet away. “You’re making it too easy.”

He finally turned to face you. There was something different about him now—less playful, more contemplative. “You could’ve stopped chasing me a long time ago.”

“Could’ve,” you agreed. “But you made a mistake.”

His brow lifted. “Oh? And what’s that?”

“You underestimated me.”

Donghyuck’s smile returned, softer than before. “Maybe. Or maybe I just wanted to see how far you’d go.”

The distance between you felt both vast and nonexistent. He was close enough to touch, yet untouchable—always just out of reach.

“What happens now?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your celestial blade shimmered in your hand, its edge glowing with divine light. You leveled it at his throat, the distance between you reduced to a single breath.

“You ran long enough,” you said, your tone steady despite the storm inside you. “It’s over.”

Donghyuck didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed... amused.

“Is it?” he asked softly. “Or is this just the beginning?”

His gaze held yours, intense and unyielding. You expected him to break eye contact, to try one last trick to escape. But he didn’t move. He just stood there, as if daring you to strike.

“You think this is a game,” you said.

“I know it is,” he replied. “And we both know you don’t want to end it.”

Your grip on the blade tightened. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Oh, I know enough,” Donghyuck said, taking a slow step forward. The blade pressed against his throat, but he didn’t stop. “I know you could’ve taken me a dozen times by now. And I know you’re hesitating.”

“I’m not—”

“You are.” He leaned in, his face inches from yours. “You’ve been chasing me all night. But why?”

“To stop you,” you said, though the words felt hollow.

Donghyuck’s smile was faint but real. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just as curious as I am.”

The rooftop fell silent, the only sound the distant hum of the waking city. Time seemed to slow, the air between you thick with unspoken possibilities.

You didn’t answer. The blade remained steady at his throat, but your mind was anything but.

Donghyuck’s eyes softened, the usual mischief giving way to something more vulnerable. He leaned just a fraction closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“Do it.”

The city stretched below, bathed in the soft golden light of dawn. From your perch on a cloud just above the skyline, you could see the world waking up—bustling streets, sleepy windows, and the distant hum of life. But none of it held your attention.

You held a single sheet of paper in your hands—the mission report. Donghyuck’s name was scrawled across the top in bold black ink, but your eyes were drawn to the red stamp across it:

Captured.

The word pulsed in your mind, its meaning both obvious and maddeningly unclear.

A flicker of movement caught your attention. Your gaze shifted to a rooftop nearby, where a familiar figure stood in the shadows.

Donghyuck.

Even from this distance, his presence was undeniable. He stepped forward, just enough for the light to catch the mischievous glint in his eyes. He held something in his hand—a single red rose.

With a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the rose into the air.

It spiraled upward, weightless as it soared through the space between you. Without thinking, you reached out and caught it mid-flight. The petals were soft beneath your fingers, their scent faintly sweet with a hint of innocence. 

You looked back at him. He watched you, his expression unreadable but intense. Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke, but your eyes softened and suddenly you were smiling.

With one last glance, you spread your wings and took flight. The clouds parted as you ascended, the world below fading into a distant blur.

But you couldn’t help stealing one final look over your shoulder.

Donghyuck remained on the rooftop, his eyes locked on the spot where you had disappeared. Slowly, a smile curled across his lips.

Not his usual smirk. It was Satisfied. Knowing.

The rose in your hand felt heavier than it should.

was your job to capture him or his heart????? who knows??????????????????

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear

[hyeokis]

your brother's a prick! ★ lee haechan x reader.

spin-off: stupidly gorgeous.

tags: haechan x reader ft maeda riku. best friend's brother trope. fluff. haechan plays the bass and has jet black hair and he's so sexy. wc: 1.8k words. note: this was supposed to be way shorter... but idk what happened sorry. pls enjoy hihi! i love band boy haechan.

you’ve always known that riku has an older brother.

he had mentioned it on several occasions, something along the lines of — my jerk brother borrowed my jeans without telling me, or i couldn’t sleep because my prick brother kept playing his stupid bass!

what you didn’t know, is said brother is this hot.

you’re not supposed to be here. you’re supposed to be using the bathroom, but somewhere along the hallway, you lost your way so now you’re here, standing before an open door. his bedroom wall is filled with michael jackson posters — and some bands you’ve only seen from your father’s old cassettes.

sitting in the middle of the room is him. he looks a little like riku, but with rounder features and a constellation of moles decorating his honey skin. he’s sitting on the floor, strumming his bass and bopping his head to the tune, tongue poking against his cheek.

you stand there, awestruck. your hand grips on the door frame, attempting to hide yourself behind the wall but he could see you. he looks up, fingers still orchestrating the instrument, eyeing you from head to toe. you feel your skin burn.

“lost?” he speaks, voice nothing like you’ve ever heard before. you think that you’ll remember the sound forever.

“uhm… the bathroom?”

“last door on the left.”

embarrassed, you walk away, his stare at the back of your head going unnoticed.

…

“what’s your brother’s name?”

“hm? haechan.”

“maeda hae—“

“—lee. different dad.”

“lee haechan…”

the bed dips. riku looks at you, propping his elbow onto the bed, lifting himself slightly to get a proper look. his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes squinted as he scans you. he’s known you for a while now, able to read your every move.

“yn. are you into my brother?”

your face turns to look at him, just slightly. you’re grateful for the dim lights, perhaps, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush creeping up your cheeks. you shake your head.

“no way. i just saw him on my way to the bathroom and was curious.”

you pray he couldn’t see through your lie. he squints his eyes just a little more, for a moment, before resting his head back against the pillows.

“good. he’s a stupid prick.”

you don’t know that. what you know for sure, is that he’s stupidly gorgeous.

…

yn [9:05 AM]: maeda riku i am seriously going to kill you. SERIOUSLY!!!!

rikuri [9:09 AM]: please do NOT i’m sooooo sorry ok!!! yushi needed my help so i had to leave :( pancakes in the microwave love you!

you scoff, tossing the phone to the other side of the bed, sounding a hushed thud. reluctantly, you pick your towel off a chair and make your way to the bathroom, mentally cursing your best friend in your head, planning all the ways you can get back at him. you brush your teeth, back leaned against the wall. you don't notice the door's unlocked until haechan walks in, towel slung over his shoulder.

"what —"

"chill," he mutters, grabbing his toothbrush. there's no urgency in his tone, no shock, as if it's the most mundane thing ever.

haechan brushes, standing close to you, shoulders lightly brushing. he looks into the mirror, meeting your eyes and raising his eyebrow, as if telling you to resume.

and so, you do. a little slower, more flustered than normal.

...

hanging out at riku's become a routine. embedded in your being, you find yourself taking the bus to his neighbourhood after class without thought. his mother claims that you're a maeda now, as you know where the spare keys are, and a designated mug sits in the dishwasher for you.

riku on the other hand, is rarely around. he prefers spending his afternoons at yushi's leaving you alone as you watch an old romcom in his living room.

haechan walks in, wordlessly taking a seat beside you  — it has become a frequent occurence. you think that you see haechan even more than riku lately, the way he'd join you for your binge watches, or when you'd bake cookies with riku. sometimes, he'd leave touches that linger —hand on your back as he passes by, or fingertip brushing against your lips as he makes you try a snack.

it's normal, yet it accelerates your heart rate without fail. you find yourself nervous every time he does as little as looking at you.

"pretty woman."

you turn to him, eyes widened. you? pretty? your hands curl around the hem of your shirt, making sense of it all.

"huh?"

haechan raises his eyebrow, tongue poking against his cheek.

"the name of the movie?"

"oh."

he chuckles, shaking his head before turning his attention back to the tv. right, of course he's talking about the damn julia roberts movie, and not you. you clasp a cushion against your face, embarrassed. he taps on your arm, touch burning through your skin.

"are you going to sungchan's party? the one on friday?"

"sungchan? oh, probably not, was not in —"

" — do you want to come with me?"

there's a minute pause as you turn your head towards him, and he's already looking at you. all the jest in his face is replaced with sincerity as he stares down at you, lip pressed against teeth.

"oh, yeah, of course."

"cool. it's a date then. we can get dinner first."

...

when riku said that his brother's a stupid prick, this must be what he means.

the servers must think you're a pathetic little thing, the way you're sitting at the far-right booth with a watered down iced tea and a melted banana split. haechan's an hour late — and with the way that he's not answering any of your calls, he's probably not coming. so, ashamedly, you grab your bag and leave for home, where you quickly flop onto your bed and weep.

no signs of haechan, at least not up until one in the morning.

yn [1:27 AM]: your brother truly is a PRICK. all caps lock btw. BOLDED. UNDERLINED. TIMES NEW ROMAN SIZE 57 AND CENTERED.

rikuri [1:28 AM]: preach mama rikuri [1:32 AM]: also wat

you're not in the mood to explain, so you shut your phone and sleep, dried tears on your cheeks.

...

it wasn't supposed to last this long.

haechan's had one long day, like it was a karmic debt sent by God which he had to pay in the form of nakamoto yuta and his stupid lies.

"sorry dude, the gig wasn't supposed to last this long. shotaro said they had some sort of technical error," yuta shrugs, shoving his drumsticks into his bag.

haechan glares at him, a full on side-eye as he swings his bass bag over his shoulder.

"you said the gig was supposed to start at 9, but it started at 10. and then you said we were the opener — bro, we were the fucking encore!"

"miscommunication, sorry," the older answers, holding his hands up in surrender.

haechan rolls his eyes, "does anyone have a charger? my phone's fucking dead," he scans the room, grumbling "useless," under his breath when all his band members shake their head, shoving his bass bag into the back of the van.

he bids his goodbye to the members (while scowling, of course), fast-walking to his car when the universe reminds him of whatever karmic debt he had in the form of a flat tire. he bangs his head against the car roof, cussing under his breath.

"i'm taking the fucking van!"

...

you're not at the diner, and you don't seem to be at sungchan's party.

haechan trudges through the crowd, muttering apologies at every bump and spilled alcohol. instead of finding you, he bumps into riku, who’s sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a drink.

“have you seen yn?”

riku blinks, shaking his head. confusion sits in his eyes for a while until realisation hits.

“wait. is this why she texted me saying you’re a fucking prick? what the fuck did you do to my best friend?”

haechan’s tongue pokes against his cheek, running a hand over his face. he grabs riku’s drink, downing it in one go before grabbing his brother's hand. he pulls his brother through the crowd, earning a couple whines from him.

"dude — where the fuck are we going?"

"you're helping me get yn back."

to riku's dismay, the two brothers arrive at your house — standing in your garden as haechan figures a way to get riku into your bedroom. you won't answer calls, nor will you answer the door. so, he eyes the tree looming over your bedroom window and the gears in his head click.

"riku. you're going to climb up this tree and go through her window."

"the hell? who said i'm doing all that?"

"your dearest older brother, of course."

the younger groans, but he makes no more protest as haechan gives him a boost, and so he climbs up the tree, making his way into your window and turning his head back to shoot haechan the middle finger.

you're jolt awake by the sound of riku falling to the floor with a thud. the blanket is pulled over your body as you screech.

"what the fuck?"

"it's me, it's riku!" he yells back, holding his hands up in surrender. "yn, you have to go downstairs, please."

...

someway, somehow, riku manages to convince you to go downstairs.

"in another life, please find a man better than my brother."

you scoff, opening the door to be greeted by haechan, on his knees, staring up at you. full begging posture. riku runs a hand across his face, shaking his head.

"god, i can't watch this," he mumbles, walking away to disappear into your kitchen.

haechan, on the other hand, is still on his knees, hands clasped together in a prayer. it's a rare sight — he always seems so aloof, and cheeky, poking jokes at you any chance he had, leaving remarks that border on platonic and flirty.

you liked it, though. lee haechan on his knees begging.

"i'm so, so sorry," he says, each word emphasised. "i had a whole thing going on with the band. i swear i planned my time so well, it's just — some things happened, with my car, and then my phone died —"

"haechan. get up."

"no, i really am sorry, please don't be mad —"

your cheeks flush as you look around the neighbourhood, seeing the lady that lives across you peeking through her window only amplifies the redness. you pull him up, "please, just get up, i won't be mad anymore."

"you promise?" he finally gets up, staring at you with hopeful eyes.

you sigh, bringing your hand forward to flick him on the forehead.

"don't ever mess up again."

he blinks, wanting to make a comment on how the flick didn't hurt at all, but he bites his tongue.

"so you forgive me?"

"yes."

"you're not mad at me anymore?"

"no."

"so you'll go on a date with me?"

you roll your eyes, but you can't stop the smile that creeps up your cheeks.

"geez, haechan — yes, i'll go on a date with you."

haechan grins, bringing his pinky up to seal the promise, cheekily kissing your pinky.

"is my brother still on his knees? can i come out now?"

...

taglist: @ch3rryd0ll @jenohyun @untilthesunrises @raevyng @peachysoso @peartreegarden @iliveforsmut3000 @chenlezip @222low

[palmkisses]

                oops! wrong number.               lee jeno

includes, valedictorian!lee jeno x reader ( mostly gender neutral ). meaning to text your ex late at night and OOPS u end up texting the campus' golden boy ! y/n is used. fluff fest ! jeno's a bit uptight in this one but u know haha. it felt so weird to actually use capitalization. all the softeness in the world <3 timestamps are super inconsistent ughh dont really pay attention to those. is it a college is it a high school who knows!! ( i don't ). all mistakes are unintentional

                                      genre : smau, fluff                    screenshots: twenty seven

an, most everything in here is deliberate tbh so if there's a period missing that's probably on purpose hehe 🤭 anyway i LOVE stupid romances so please enjoy this one <3 part two will be coming soon bc i ran out of picture slots 😭😭 and i know i JUST posted but . . . ITS SO CUTE I HAD TO

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── ⠀⠀. ❤︎⋆. ࿐࿔ dream and things they leave at your place !

𝗇𝖼𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆ㅤ ⋆ㅤ 𓏔ㅤ ㅤ 📧ㅤㅤ ୨୧ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ㅤ˚ ༘ 📼ㅤㅤㅤ⟢ 𝗅𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗋𝗒ㅤ 𝅄 ࣪ ྀི ま

haechan. leather jackets. he has a couple or several, which have started to disappear from his closet. it’s not that they’re lost; they’ve just found a new owner: you. midnight dates are cozy; you barely realize dawn is breaking until you start to feel cold, and then he gives you his jacket. if he really didn’t want you to have them, he’d remind you to bring something to keep you warm —unless he’s hoping you’ll wear it next time, or maybe, he’s just hoping you’ll keep them.

jisung. random stuff. one day it’s his jewelry, another day it’s the pair of headphones, and another day it’s his beanie. maybe he’d leave his phone behind too if he didn’t need it to call you as soon as he walks through the door to tell you something funny. he may be a little absent-minded, even if you think you know the reason; when he goes to bed, he usually takes off his accessories methodically, and when he wakes up sleepily, he leaves them forgotten on your nightstand; when you’re in bed, watching a video on his phone, he hands you one of his earbuds, and then forgets to ask for it back. it’s not that he’s absent-minded—or maybe he is. maybe you should remind him, but then you wouldn’t have anything of his to treasure.

jaemin. a camera. he must have a few, you’ve seen them. but this one in particular feels more familiar. you don't know much about photography, but hearing him talk about it, you know he must really cherish it. the fact that he left it at your spot must be a sign of the high regard he holds for you; maybe he likes you enough to entrust you with his most prized possession. you really don’t want to invade his privacy, but if you dared, you might realize that he cherishes the camera so much because it has photos of you in it.

jeno. notes. silly doodles, goodbye notes, messages hidden in your pants pockets or stuck on the fridge. eat your food. i miss you. maybe he’s been leaving more than usual because he thinks you don’t see them; maybe he’s left few because he thinks you throw them away and don’t pay much attention to them, when the truth is that you collect them, every single one, and reread them, imagining how foolishly happy he looks making them while you sleep.

chenle. daegal. you would have offered not long ago to take care of her while he needs to be away. a lot of time passes. there isn’t much to do; she isn’t as bad as he’s made her out to be, and you usually take naps together. taking her for walks and sending him photos has become routine now because he asks for them—he must miss her a lot when they’re apart. thank goodness you have a couple of photos of him on your phone to show the puppy when she seems down; it’s a relief that he’s coming home tonight, and you open the door. you think he’ll go straight to her as soon as you see him, but instead, his arms wrap around you. maybe he misses you just as much.

renjun. prepped meals. sometimes you might be so busy that you forget to eat. maybe you don't feel like cooking. maybe the couch or the bed sounds more appealing. up to this point, he's considered all the reasons, so the simplest one is to make you a meal—especially a delicious one. he’d come over just to eat them with you, or while he’s preparing them, he’ll definitely ask you to taste them to see if they lack some more condiments, even though he’s a great cook, because you know he’s a great cook, and because you won’t say no.

[palmkisses]

guess the obliviousness ! lee jeno

includes, boyfriend!lee jeno x reader ( mostly gender neutral ). in which you and jeno watch and laugh at the dreamies who are sobbing, screaming, crying over the fact that you both aren't dating yet, little do they know the oblivious ones aren't you two ! cuties are the dreamies. chaos at it’s finest. the dreamies have a groupchat named ‘it hurts’. jeno there is a knife in your hand. my writing is so shitty in this jesus christ. all mistakes are unintentional.

genre : fluff, crack word count : 0.7k

an, a short fic but i didn't really think it should be a timestamp as it doesn't fit the format ? so . . fic it was haha. anyway i hope you enjoy <3 sorry for working on this instead of everything else i should be working on 😭 also sorry for the shortness of this !! it's mostly just a drabble tbh shdfs

“you’re kidding, right?” chenle deadpanned, watching as jeno tugged you closer, practically attached at the hip, thighs pressed together, not a wisp of space between the two of you.

jeno blinked, and so did you.

“about what?” you questioned, lips pursing slightly in confusion.

chenle stared at you both for a solid minute, unblinking, before letting out a deep sigh and looking back at his phone, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

the dreamies often questioned why you weren’t dating — jeno and you.

they questioned it, complained about it, groaned like they were tired that you weren’t dating yet ( most of the groans came from haechan ).

it was understandable. you both were insufferably close, working out together, never an inch apart, you cooked for him, he bought random things for you. both of you stole from each other’s plates, practically laid on the other during movie nights, and jeno constantly had his arm around your waist like he never was going to let go.

jaemin usually questioned it when he saw you wearing jeno’s hoodie, and haechan couldn’t have gagged louder when he saw that your lockscreens were of each other.

it was obvious: you were perfect for each other. and yet there was still no dates planned in the shared calender. everyone checked religiously each week.

behind your back there were betting pools, whispered — but serious — discussions on who would confess first. the majority went to you, albeit the jeno voters claimed he would do it if he panicked enough.

 but interference? absolutely allowed.

“so . . . cute new cafe,” jaemin hummed as he plopped down next to you, jeno — of course — on your other side. you made a small questioning sound, looking up from the tv.

“the one that just opened,” jaemin spoke, pulling out his phone that already had the cafe’s page pulled up, pushing it into your hands and peering over your shoulder as you scrolled.

“oh, yeah, we should go sometime,” you agreed, pausing at a particularly pretty shot of the interior.

“we should!” jaemin agreed, “i’m free friday if you two are,” he spoke. “i think i can get jisungie to come too.” jaemin reached out to take his phone back, watching you and jeno glance at each other before nodding in agreement.

“works for me,” jeno confirmed. jaemin internally cheered.

surprise surprise when jeno and you showed up on friday at the cafe with a text from jaemin reading: ‘something popped up! you two have fun without me’ then a gif of a bunny winking.

the same thing happened at least three more times, one of the members dragging you both out for an impromptu ‘date’, as they liked to imply. and still nothing stemmed.

“i could flirt with jeno and see what happens!” haechan spoke as if it was the singular, most important revelation ever. all he got in return were unimpressed stares. “too obvious you’re right,” he murmured, thinking as he sat back against the couch. 

you had dragged jeno out to suffer at the pet store earlier, and still out, the dreamies had called a meeting, collectively brainstorming between their two brains ( renjun and sometimes chenle ).

“give up?” jisung spoke up, offering a shrug, earning four stares of: ‘absolutely not’, ‘are you serious right now’, ‘you’re joking right’, and ‘maybe actually’.

this also happened three more times.

and yet, all of this spiraled down to one morning, when you walked into the kitchen where the dreamies had gathered, all helping ( or not helping ) to make breakfast. a small chorus of ‘good morning’s chimed your way as you stepped over to jeno. 

the five of them watched as you leaned into jeno as he cut up random fruit, whispering soft words that no one caught. jeno laughed softly at something you’d said, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your temple.

that wasn’t the ending point, no, but instead when you leaned up and pressed your lips against his in a small peck.

and everyone paused like their entire world was shattering at the seams.

haechan was the first to break the silence. “what the fuck.”

[palmkisses]

┆ ✰ ::   “ mwah ”

includes  ::  [ 0.7k ] boyfriend!nct dream x reader ( mostly gender neutral ). kissing ! ft. nct dream 😋. why are they so touchy damn it’s like they like you or something. all mistakes are unintentional !

authors note, smooch

mark kisses you softly. like you’re something fragile and something he wants to protect. his hands finding yours in the process, interlacing your fingers as his other hand comes to rest on your cheek. angling your head just right to slot your lips together perfectly.

his mind clears, worrying thoughts fading as he melts into it, the only thing in his head being you. purely you. nothing else could bother him in the times when you’re in front of him, because he’s so fully consumed by your feel — your touch. your entire being is like a breath of fresh air to him.

jisung’s are nervous. rare, hesitant, and fumbling, unsure of where to put his hands. he’ll slowly meet your lips, eyes fluttering closed, hands starting at your face, before sliding down to your neck, waist, and hips. it always ends with him picking you up and placing you somewhere. on a desk, counter, against the wall, his body pressed against yours.

his head is racing, thoughts fuzzy as he’s panicking about everything he might be doing wrong. he pulls away after the nerves get to him, checking your eyes for any honesty. and when he finds none, that familiar awkward smile traces his lips before you’re tugging him in again.

chenle pecks everywhere. your cheek, forehead, temple, collarbone, head. his lips feather dusting your skin as he holds your face in his hands, eyes full of affection. he continues avoiding the singular place he knows you want, until you’re a flustered mess, pawing at his shirt to try and get him to kiss you.

when he finally lets out a small laugh and connects your lips, it’s slow. as if he’s still trying to tease you, his thumb caressing your cheek as he tilts his head, deepening it ever so slightly. he pulls away before it goes any further, grinning at you like an idiot as he watches your reaction, pecking your lips once more when you let out a frustrated huff.

jaemin kisses are constant. vying for attention, kissing you for everything. thank you’s, randomly throughout the day. hooking a finger under your chin and pressing his lips to yours. as if he can’t get enough, which he can’t. every time he pulls away he can’t help but lean back in. you’re too cute, too adorable for him to ever stop.

sometimes they’re sweet. often they’re abiding, like you can still feel his lips against yours hours later, body humming with his touch. his kiss is so ceaseless, almost essential in your routine now. every time he pecks your lips it leaves a smile on your face.

jeno kisses deeply. there’s a reason he’s kissing you, and it’s solely due to the need of feeling you. every time leaves you breathless — inhales uneven, exhales heavy. red painting your cheeks as he smiles at you innocently, like he hadn’t regarded you to a flustered mess with just a short kiss.

his lips trail down to your neck when he’s letting you catch your breath, leaving soft, delicate kisses there, cherishing you, his arms sliding around your waist as he pulls you closer, flush against him, hands tracing your spine, sending shivers crawling up your back.

renjun’s are sensual. it’s rare for him to kiss you anything further than a small peck, but when he does it’s passionate. it’s not deep, but light. his lips soft against yours, his fingers caressing your jaw, leaving you fidgety for more. his kisses are the type where you leave your eyes closed even after he pulls away, trying to savour the feeling.

he won’t lean in a second time unless he can’t help himself, but he’ll keep his hands against your skin, dancing across your jaw, brushing your bottom lip, admiring you shamelessly. watching your eyelashes flutter open, your lips part slightly, your gaze glinting.

haechan’s kisses are messy. frantic, always looking for more. hand’s roaming your body until they ultimately land on your hips. his kisses are biting, needing, pulling away just to admire how flustered you are, nipping at your bottom lip before diving back in.

he’ll lead you until your back is against a wall, bodies pressed up against each other as he leans in, deepening the kiss further. always searching your body, fingers pressing on your most sensitive spots, trailing kisses down to your collarbone, marking, because he needs everyone to know who you belong to. 

[palmkisses]

┆ ✰ ::   “ rule number one of hot bartenders: don’t write your number on a napkin and give it to them ”

includes  :: [ eleven screenshots ] bartender!jeno x reader ( typically gender neutral, avoided the reader’s contact picture for a reason ). been wanting to make this since the mv. nickname: pretty. jeno is an INSATIABLE flirt. ooc jeno ? probably. all mistakes are unintentional.

authors note, bartender jeno omg, FLIRTY bartender jeno???? omg????? honestly in my head he was just going to be cute but then he dragged me by my throat ( i enjoyed it ) and forced me to let him be flirty so. have fun dear reader. also i know the title is long but i . i thought it was funny so . ( it’s not funny is it ) ALSO since it’s a bit confusing, the second row of screenshots is all a continuation of one thread !! lmk if a part two ( i’m making one anyway 😭 ) is needed or you all hate it <3

[pr0dbeomgyu]

[8:30pm]

pairing: bf!renjun x reader

genre: fluff

a/n: happy birthday renjun my love!!!! this is a short timestamp for his birthdayyyy i hope renjun has a great birthday i love you so much

"happy birthday, renjun, my love," you whispered, as renjun who was sitting on the couch beside you, blew the candle on his cake.

it was just a simple celebration in your shared apartment; a bento cake designed as a cute moomin you ordered, a take away pizza, all on a red checkered table spread, but the way renjun looked at you, it was as if you plucked the stars from the sky for him.

"thank you, yn. this means so much to me," he smiled softly, the corner of his eyes crinkling. maybe you did pluck the stars, cause what else could possibly explain the stars in renjun's eyes? oh, how you wish he could be happy all the time, how you wish you could protect that smile all the time.

"i hope you get everything you wished for, baby," you said, placing both of your hands on his cheeks to make him face you. you placed a kiss on his forehead.

then a kiss on his nose.

he giggled.

finally, his lips. he smiled into the kiss.

little did you know, everything he wished for, is already right in front of him.

[l0veu-somuch]

nct dream the morning after a fight... 🦷🏡

mark looks terrible, has the deepest bags under his eyes than any other time you've seen in the 2 years you've been together. his shoulders drop so low you'd think he was standing straight while asleep. when you open the door he immediately steps closer to you, mumbling, "can i hold you?" you nod desperately, any traces of sleep immediately fading from your senses and muscles, badly needing his comforting embrace despite the heated argument you had last night that ended on a high note. you only knew he left to haechan's place from the younger's rapid texts. you feel his warm hand softly caress your hair, pressing you firmly to his body. "i'm so sorry, baby." you feel his lips brush against your temple, his hands holding you like he's afraid he'd lose you. you'd forgiven him long before the clock on your bedside table spelled 4:30 a.m., when you saw the little bubbles on his side of the chat pop up for a while before disappearing again.

renjun fiddles more than actually does with the teaspoon, watching as the wisps of vapor waft up and into the dark of the room. the tea grows colder as more time goes by. he has half a mind to walk over to the foyer for the hundredth time that night just to fiddle with the keys you left hanging by the doorknob. he straightens your shoes back by the line of the overstep. come morning time the teacup is now rinsed and drying by the sink, teabag now drying out in the little succulent you insisted on bringing home from the bookstore right off the gates of campus. he thinks of calling your mom to make sure you're coming home in time for dinner. that's when he'll let the wisps of apologies leave his tongue, pull you into his embrace the way you seek him for comfort like your bones want to fuse into his.

jeno watches the digital clock flicker to the time that seems to keep passing no matter what he does to stop it. it's evening where you are, he knows this, even though the sun has just risen on his side of the world, rays pushing through the draping curtains in his hotel room. his hand reaches for the phone he'd thrown aside, and as he unlocks it his screen shows the last texts that had come in from you. he hates when you get drunk you can't even see correctly anymore, let alone when you get drunk because of him. he hates that you're so far from him right now, that he has to wait a few more days until he's there so you can just hit him and call him an idiot instead of the poor plushie he'd won for you from the shooting game at the arcade. he hates making you cry most of all. he hates seeing you get hurt from anything. he cannot risk booking a flight back home, not with the concert being mere hours away. he needs you to be okay. he rechecks his delivery app, seeing your favorite around-the-corner hot soup deli store delivery just minutes away from reaching your home. he sends the text alerting you the deliveryman had left the food by your doorstep, hoping you'd get it before it gets cold.

donghyuck is scarily silent whenever his mood takes a damper. his brows settle into a line, lips bright red from him biting down on it so he doesn't accidentally let out anything that might hurt either of you any more. the quietness carries on to the morning. you'd slept with your backs against each other, the first time since university when you were so convinced he didn't want anything to do with you (really, he was so in love with you he knew he wouldn't let go of you the second he laid his eyes on you. he still is. you know this. he knows it too.) where laughter usually bubbles from the kitchen as he makes you your morning cup of coffee, is replaced with merely the rumble of the coffee machine. which makes the sound of your slippers against the wooden floors all the louder than it usually feels like. he's not where he usually is, leaning against the countertop, tugging you in by the drawstrings of your pyjama pants to get his morning kiss. instead, there is a note, reminding you of your lunch appointment, and to text him if you would like to be picked up afterwards.

jaemin can hear your footsteps padding around the bedroom, still slumped against the door. he doesn't hear you say anything, doesn't dial anyone on your phone either, just hearing you sigh and sniffle as you seem to be gently petting lucy, the kitten's little purrs more audible than usual what with the silence of the aftermath of the fight. either you woke up early or you did not sleep a wink at all. luna comes up to his lap, and her big grey eyes blink up at him. she scratches at the door, begging to be let in, usually cuddled up in bed with the both of you. he understands her completely; he misses the lull of your heartbeat and your jasmine scent just as much as she does. his heart pounds with every step he hears you take to get closer to the door, and feels more than sees you turn the knob and crank the door open just the slightest bit. he's relieved to see you out of bed the next morning, if only because he'd timed his waking up to the sound of you rolling out your carry-on luggage to the doorway, just to catch you leaving a tear tracked note about the vet's emergency contact should anything happen to the babies while you were away.

chenle hasn't gotten any balls in the hoop for a while. nothing he does to his throwing or his steps helps him score any points. how can he when every time he blinks the image of your tear-tracked cheeks and shaking lips paint the back of his eyelids. the court is empty so early in the morning, and he'd left daegal in the apartment so she could be with you even if he isn't at the moment. as he walks back to your shared apartment he spots your favorite to go matcha stall, the only one here that also serves hojicha, because you prefer the roasted blend over the natural one. when he comes back, he sees the lock necklace he gifted you in the marble dish by the door, daegal's leash not hanging from its usual hook, and he breathes in the perfume that lingers by the door where you'd silently left through, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at the weight that sits atop your chest even though the necklace was off.

jisung honest to god doesn't know how to make it up to you. he doesn't know how you're feeling because he can't see you. you wouldn't pick up his call at all after last night and he knows you left sometime after midnight because your slippers were switched out for your sneakers, the ones he likes to help you lace up despite your protests you could do it on your own. he tries to text the other guys but this is something only the both of you know your way out of. he calls for any nearby florists that are already open taking rush orders, because he needs that moment when you walk back in to be not perfect, but clear of his remorse and empathy. none of what he said last night was fair, childishness surging at your rising pitch and crack of syllables, but you slowly realise these are growing pains for both of you. this will not be the end of your life together.

[rnjfy]

[2:28 pm]

“did someone say something to you?”

jisung was fuming. he knew you like you were the back of his hand—seeing you at the level upset as you were only infuriated him even more.

“no, no. i’ll be fine, ‘sung.” you try your best to smile at him even through the tears blurring your vision.

your boyfriend sighs, tugging you towards him as a soft sob escapes your lips.

“shh. i’m here, baby. cry it all out.”

[j0hnj4ej3n]

nct dream and late nights with you

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: slightly suggestive. explores a complicated, casual situationship with recurring intimacy. themes of emotional attachment, blurred boundaries, and quiet longing. slight angst. no explicit content, but implied. read at your own discretion!

Notes: hi loveys! it’s been a while since my last post but it seems like some of you really liked the last few writings i posted, so i’m glad! i’ve been busy with my postgrad studies so i haven’t had the time to write too much. this has been written in between assignments and taken as a form of destress for me. apparently, thinking about 7dream in situationships does it for me IJBOL. i’ve recently fallen back in love with ten’s song, ‘lie with you’ and this idea is kinda based on the song’s vibe. anyways, this is lowkey a continuation of nct dream realising it’s not so casual anymore, but could be read on its own. i hope you guys have fun reading this as much as i had writing it! sending lots of love xx

𔘓Mark:

Mark lay beside you, half tangled in the sheets, the scent of him and you lingering in the warm air, skin still sticky with heat and sweat, the ache from earlier pressing quietly in his muscles. your back was turned to him, hair falling across the pillow, and he traced the curve of your shoulder with his gaze, memorizing the way it rose and fell with every breath, wondering how this had started as something simple and now felt like it was pressing into him from all sides. his stomach growled and he froze, suddenly aware of the small, human part of himself still very much awake. you shifted, sleepy, letting out a quiet laugh that floated between the two of you, soft and warm, and he felt the tension in his chest loosen just slightly. he let a hand hover near yours, fingertips brushing the edge of your arm, hesitating, almost afraid to disturb the fragile rhythm of stillness. “wanna stay for supper?”

you moved together in an easy, unspoken routine, pulling clothes over warm skin, brushing past each other in the hallway, careful not to spill the intimacy you had just made but still letting it linger. Mark carried the cup noodles back clumsily, the paper bowl wobbling in his hands, and you reached over to steady it, fingertips brushing his as he grinned faintly, embarrassed. the laughter was light, almost careless, but it pressed against the weight in his chest, reminded him that this was temporary and still too meaningful to ignore. you moved to sit on the bed again, noodles steaming between you, knees bumping lightly, blankets half falling off the side, and Mark handed you a bowl, careful, lingering just a little too long with his fingers near yours. he watched you lift the spoon, the way your hair fell forward, the faint blush from moving too fast, and he felt the familiar ache of wanting more but knowing he had no right. he spoke quietly, almost as an afterthought, “careful, it’s hot.” eventually, the paper bowl lays empty on the nightstand, you didn’t make a move to leave and Mark let you stay. laying together, side by side, still absorbed in some hushed, sleepy conversation. but it’s enough to make the temporary feel like it could last for one more night. the both of you letting the stillness hold all the things neither of you dared to say.

𔘓Renjun:

Renjun walked beside you, your leash in one hand, the dog tugging lightly ahead, pulling the two of you into the narrow park path. the air was crisp and quiet, and he kept stealing glances at you, careful to keep his expression neutral, but his chest tightened anyway. your jacket brushed against his arm as you adjusted the leash, and his fingers twitched, wanting to linger just a fraction longer than he should, wanting to trace that warmth with no excuse at all. the dog barked at something in the shadows and you laughed softly tugging your puppy along, and the sound pressed into him in a way he wasn’t supposed to let it. he kept his eyes on your profile, the way your hair caught the light, the soft slope of your shoulder under your jacket, the way you tilted your head to smile at the dog. you handed him the leash for a moment to grab something from your bag, and his fingers brushed yours, light and unintentional but deliberate enough for his heart to spike. he let them linger a second too long, letting the warmth sink into him, and he cursed quietly in his mind because every little thing you did made the ache grow, made him aware that casual had already become something else entirely for him. he wanted to tell you he couldn’t do this, that the moments after were heavy, that every brush of your hand and laugh and closeness made him want more than he had a right to want, but the words wouldn’t come. instead he rushes out of his apartment at 2am to walk your dog with you, stays beside you the entire time, shoulders brushing, glances stolen, holding the leash, watching your puppy pee by a tree, laughing lightly as it tripped over itself, trying to cling onto all these memories, waiting till he finally finds it in himself to pull away.

𔘓Jeno:

Jeno sprawled on the couch, blanket draped over his legs, an arm crossed behind his head, your head resting against his shoulder, hair brushing lightly against his neck. the glow from the tv lit the room in flickering shadows, a horror movie playing that you both had insisted on, more for the fun of critiquing than actual fear. he watched your face in the half-light, soft and relaxed, the little curl of your lips when you whispered how stupid the protagonist was, and he felt a warmth spread through his chest. you laughed softly at the scene, eyes sparkling, and nudged him lightly, “do you think i’d get killed off early if we were in a horror movie?” he froze for a heartbeat, thinking, rationally weighing odds, thinking about characters and tropes and logic, and then without thinking, let his arm snake around your waist, pulling you a little closer, heart thudding because he didn’t usually act on impulses like that. “i won’t let you die,” he murmured, voice low, eyes flicking to yours, and you let out a quiet laugh, half-shocked, half-softened by the sincerity that slipped through his usual careful exterior. you leaned further into him, and he rested his chin atop your head, fingers brushing along your arm absentmindedly, feeling the warmth and softness, feeling the ache of want, wanting to be closer than casual rules allowed. the movie continues, lights flashing across your faces, you whispered commentary back and forth, shared small laughs at ridiculous moments, and he let himself stay in that moment, letting the yearning thoughts linger while knowing full well whatever this was, was temporary. he let you rest there, his arm holding you just enough to ground you both, letting the quiet intimacy of 2am fill the room.

𔘓Haechan:

he sat on the edge of the bench, one hand draped over the backrest, watching you stir your drink slowly, fingers tracing the rim of the glass like you were memorizing it. the city lights reflected faintly in the liquid, a quiet shimmer that made him pause. Haechan wanted to tease, to make the tension break the way it always did, but tonight the usual words felt hollow. you looked distant, brows furrowed, lips pressed lightly together, and he felt a tug in his chest that he wasn’t used to naming. he shifted closer, careful. the contact was slight, enough for him to feel your warmth, enough to feel that pull he had been trying to ignore. he wanted to reach out, let his hand rest on your shoulder, but the moment felt fragile, and he hesitated. it was that quiet ache he didn’t expect: the weight of wanting to lett you lean into him, without the safety net of laughter or teasing. “stop running to me when you’re troubled. you know i suck at comforting you,” he said softly, voice low, not exactly joking, and he caught the faintest smile twitch at the corner of your lips. you didn’t answer, just shifted slightly closer on your own, and he let it be, letting the silence stretch between you. tonight the usual tricks felt wrong. he wanted to keep it simple, wanted to make it fun and make you laugh, knowing it’s what you need. but the fact he cared so much made him feel exposed. he was aware of every tilt of your shoulder, every small sigh, every quiet tension in your body. he wanted to be the person who made it okay, who made it easier, who let the world blur around you both. those thoughts alone nearly pushed him to chug the rest of his beer. instead, he just stays close and lets you be, letting the city hum softly around you. he let himself think about how heavy it all was, how something that was supposed to be casual had pulled him into a quiet orbit he wasn’t ready to name, and how he didn’t care that he wasn’t ready — he just wanted to stay with you a little longer.

𔘓Jaemin:

he drove slowly through the quiet streets, headlights cutting soft lines across the dark pavement. your jacket was still half-wrinkled from earlier, hair mussed, leaning back in the passenger seat with a faint tired smile. Jaemin liked driving at night like this, the world muted, no one around, the only noise the hum of the tires and the faint music he hadn’t bothered to turn off. he stole glances at you, the way your fingers drummed lightly against your leg, the way your eyes followed the passing streetlights, calm and trusting. he had refused to let you go home alone, always nagging about how dangerous it is for a girl to wander around alone at night. but more than that, he was trying to hold on to moments like this without needing to define it. he reached over to turn the volume down, letting his hand hover near yours, just close enough that you noticed, just close enough to feel it, but not touching. the restraint made the ache sharper. when the car stopped outside your building, you turned to him, sleepy, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and leaned forward for a kiss. it was soft, slow, lingering. and he let it deepen longer than he usually would. when you pulled back, he stayed close a moment too long, gaze on yours, wanting more, wanting to keep it all, to step over boundaries he was supposed to respect. he leaned forward, lips brushing yours again, just a fraction, and felt you shift slightly, letting him feel the closeness but not giving in completely. he hesitated, then realized he needed to pull back, the night already too heavy with everything unsaid. he let his hands fall to his lap, heart still thudding, chest tight with all the wanting he couldn’t voice. “head in, i’ll go when you’re inside,” he said softly, and watched you slip from the car. he waited until he could no longer see the figure of you before starting the engine again, letting the hum of the tires carry the silence, the weight, the ache of something casual that was quietly becoming everything.

𔘓Chenle:

Chenle leaned against the counter, lips pursed, chopping vegetables with far too much care for someone who claimed he was just “throwing something together.” the kitchen smelled faintly of garlic and soy, the low hum of the refrigerator filling the quiet space. you slumped against the island, hair slightly messy, one of his overworn shirts draping your body, letting out a long sigh like the week had sucked every ounce of energy from you. he didn’t say anything, just slid a small bowl toward you, noodles steaming softly, the faintest curl of mischief in his lips. “my specialty,” he said lightly, a small smirk on his face. you shrugged, fingers tracing the edge of the bowl, and he tilted his head, letting the silence stretch like it always did. there was a rhythm between you both in these moments, a give-and-take that felt effortless, even though he could feel the tension still clinging to your shoulders. he passed you the chopsticks, careful to brush your hand with his, just slightly, and you caught it, smirk tugging at your lips. Chenle leaned back against the counter, letting himself watch you for a moment, noticing how your eyes softened when you the noodles to your lips, how the tension in your jaw eased just slightly. he knew exactly how your body worked, exactly how your mind tightened when the world was too much, and he let himself care in little ways that weren’t supposed to matter. light touches, little gestures, warm home-cooked food. he took a bite himself, humming softly, letting the mundane domesticity settle between you. he knew this wasn’t just fun tonight, not completely. the way your body had taken longer to relax, like the stress was still caught somewhere deep, the way you had gone quieter halfway through, less laughter, more softness, like something in you was slowly unwinding without words. he had noticed, even if he pretended not to. the way you exhaled into him like you were finally allowed to breathe stayed with him now, threading quietly through the silence, heavier than it should be. but he didn’t think too much, didn’t name it. he just stayed, letting you exist next to him, letting the comfort of small routines fill the spaces neither of you would ever define. “this is almost too good,” you murmured, and he laughed softly, brushing a stray hair from your cheek, letting the warmth linger. “of course, i made it,” he said, grinning, but the edges of his smile softened as he watched you, knowing tonight was more than just casual fun, but deciding to let it be anyway.

𔘓Jisung:

Jisung stood a little too stiff across from you, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders slightly hunched like he was bracing for something. the air felt heavier than usual, none of the easy quiet you both used to fall into. you leaned against the edge of the table, arms folded, eyes on him in a way that made it hard for him to breathe properly. “you left.” your voice wasn’t loud. that made it worse. Jisung swallowed, gaze dropping to the floor for a second before he forced it back up, like he owed you at least that much. his mind scrambled, thoughts tripping over each other, all the real reasons sitting right there. he couldn’t say them. “i just… had somewhere to be in the morning,” he muttered, the excuse sounding weak even to himself. he could see it in your expression, the way your brows pulled slightly, not angry, just unconvinced. hurt, maybe. that made his chest tighten. he shifted his weight, fingers curling deeper into his pockets, nails pressing into his palms. he wanted to explain, wanted to say that staying had felt impossible, that if he had woken up next to you he wouldn’t have been able to leave at all. that it had scared him, how much he didn’t want to go. but the words stayed stuck. “you could’ve texted,” you said quietly. he nodded too quickly. “yeah. i know. i just… forgot.” it was a lame excuse, he knew it the second it left his mouth. the silence stretched, uncomfortable and unfamiliar. he wasn’t used to this version of you, not with him. not like this. his eyes flickered to you, then away again, like he couldn’t hold the contact for too long without giving something away. he remembered the night too clearly. the way you had held onto him, the way your voice had softened, the way everything had felt too real for something that wasn’t supposed to mean anything. waking up alone had been easier than facing that in the morning. “it wasn’t a big deal, alright?” he added, quieter this time, like he was trying to convince both you and himself. it sounded so wrong. his chest tightened, the words sitting heavy in his throat, everything he wasn’t saying pressing harder the longer he stayed silent. he knew how it sounded. the excuses, the way they fell flat between you. he knew you had every right to be upset, to make this something harder than it already was. but you didn’t. and he knew you were to sweet, too soft. that was the hardest part. his gaze flickered back to you, something softer this time, quieter. there was a small, selfish relief settling in his chest, knowing what you two had wouldn’t end here, that you would let this go, that the two of you would fall back into something familiar again. for tonight, it was easier to let it stay like this. not fixed, but just… not over.

[cigsaftersuh]

lee donghaechan ༝ idol! reader ౨ৎ

reverse idol au in which you're an idol but your boyfriend, lee haechan donghyuck is not — your fans already have speculations of you being in a relationship, with your actions in vlogs + public being used as evidence for such claims.

your phone, the main culprit of it all only proves fans and not alike to believe that you are indeed a taken woman.

in group vlogs, you are always seen with your smiling face buried in it during candid moments. in your solo vlogs, you always mention a mysterious friend with such fondness that people could maybe ignore if it isn't for the blush coating your soft cheeks.

while in public, the paparazzi always seem to capture your phone lit up and turned on, with a picture of your groups shared pet cat hugging your teddy bear against your floral bedsheets.

and since your wallpaper doesn't satisfy anyones thirst for gossip, they zoom into the pictures until it's clear enough to see a very specific notification.

yuck 🩷

( New Message )

which of course leaves your fandom, and of course stan twitter as well, debating on whether yuck is a possible love interest, due to the loving emoji in the contact name or just someone lucky enough to call themselves your friend and joke around with.

it isn't until your solo live a few days later where fans notice the initial dangling from the jewelry adorning your neck and attempting to hide in between your cleavage.

the pendant, a cursive 𝓓 made of diamonds, syncs with your every movement while you try your best to dodge any questions regarding the recent rumors tied to your name.

by the time you're saying goodbye and thanking everyone for joining, the internet has already come to a conclusion that you are dating an idol whose name starts with D.

every comment, everywhere consists of arguments over which of the kims — kim doyoung or kim daeyoung is the lucky man. you can only imagine what your fellow idols comments look like at this point in time.

thoigh theh probably couldn't have been as worse as exactly 16 hours later, when one of your members posts a bbl where you both are taking a mirror selca and the lighting is oh so perfect.

so much so that it casts a beautiful light on your necklace, perfectly highlighting the pendant laying flat against your chest.

this time, it's a 𝐇 — with a heart shaped pearl placed in the middle of the dainty letter. and now you have to deal with dating rumors as well as 'being a two timing ass bitch,' like user jaeheearwax said or 'a cheating chopped hoe,' courtesy of doyoungayearner.

you decjde you've had enoufh after reading the fourth comment calling you a cheater and take matters into your own hands, drafting up a bbl message expressing your love and gratitude for your fans, your members, your family's support, and last but definitely not least, your lover.

🍀 y/n 01:27 💬

— to my fans 🤍 thank you for always supporting me. i wanted to share a small piece of my happiness with you. i am currently in a relationship with someone very dear to me, and yes i wear his initial on me, though i've been less strict on hiding it sorry! d & h, are for donghyuck and haechan !! my boyfriends name and the nickname he goes by, thanks to yours truly hehe i hope you can understand and continue to walk with me as i keep doing my best, always. thank you.

𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗎~~~~☆، ﹫cigsaftersuh

new style 🍀❕this was supposed to be just a concept but i can never shut up when it comes to hyuckie as you can see skskjsk i hope you enjoy, this literally came to me in a dream last night and now she is here thank you for reading !

[jukipptx]

hiii!! so so sorry if uve already done this before but can u do the dreamies and their love languages please!! tyy <33

Your request brought me back from the dead 🪦 Everybody say “thank you requester”. So here’s dreamies and their love languages for you and you only 🎀

Mark: words of affirmation: expressing love through verbal compliments, appreciation, and kind words.

He may seem shy at first, or very proper and unable to form a phrase without stuttering, or that he talks a lot but makes no sense, but with time he’s learned to love you the best way he knows: by talking too much. He will stutter for 30 seconds, unable to form a phrase, and at the end he’ll only say “I just love you so much, that’s all”.

──────── ୨ৎ

Renjun: quality time: offering undivided attention and spending meaningful time together.

It’s hard to tell what he’s truly feeling. His face is very demure, very nonchalant and straight, so sometimes it’s hard to tell whether he actually likes you or not, so you can only tell that he actually adores you to the moon and back because of how he shares his precious and almost nonexistent free time with you. Forever bombastic side eye boy, but will eventually say “should we cuddle or are you letting me die?”.

──────── ୨ৎ

Jeno: emotional support: providing a listening ear and emotional validation, showing care for a partner's feelings.

He’s never been one to talk, but his support and warmth can be felt from afar. He will not cry with you, but he’ll definitely help you stop. His gaze, the puppy and crystalline eyes, will be enough for anyone to feel comfort and safety and love and everything that he has for you and for you only. He’ll always put you first even though it can work against him at times.

──────── ୨ৎ

Haechan: humor & playfulness: using shared humor, inside jokes, and lightheartedness to create a fun and relaxed environment for expressing love.

At first, it got you angrier when he tried making you laugh while angry. It got to you! Just let me be angry for a moment, please. But he just wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t bear seeing your smile in any way other that upwards. It was what kept him going. It was also so very surprising how he always had something funny to say. He was amazingly talented even at making jokes, at making you feel better, at loving you in general. He was so loving and so happy, and he smiled so hard when he saw you happy; he was so beautiful then.

──────── ୨ৎ

Jaemin: physical touch: expressing love through physical gestures such as hugs, kisses, or hand-holding.

“You can’t do that in public.” was your go-to phrase with Jaemin. He could never let go, like ever. Holding hands was a yes-or-yes thing for him. If you let go of his, he’d believe you were mad at him. “Are you mad at me?” was his go-to-phrase because you weren’t as touchy as him. He expresses himself with kisses and holding your chin, you didn’t but you understood. He always smelled delicious, so you were happy letting it happen.

──────── ୨ৎ

Chenle: receiving gifts: demonstrating love by giving thoughtful gifts, big or small, that show care and consideration.

You had a hard time getting used to it, but gifting non-ordinary gifts was what Chenle knew as love. You once came home to a 500 set of roses laid out on your bed and a puppy in the middle (a real one). You told him he didn’t have to spend as much for you to be happy; he got mad, so now you just accept the gifts. It could be the most expensive roses, the most expensive chocolates, the most expensive pink coat, but it could also be your favorite iced tea, a pair of mittens or chocolate covered strawberries. He loved doing it and he loved seeing you smile every single time.

──────── ୨ৎ

Jisung: affectionate communication: conveying love through non-verbal cues, such as body language, facial expressions, and eye contact.

Jisung is very well known for being shy. And it really did take him a while to get used to being loved so openly. It also took you long enough to understand his way of expressing love to you. He didn’t say it much, but you could feel it. You could feel when he held your hands when they were cold, when you felt his gaze as you were falling asleep, when you were anxious and he caressed your neck without saying a word. That’s Jisung, always looking and looking out for you, trying to go unnoticed, but he never did; you always noticed.

[ayukas]

BEYOND PRETTY

it only takes one offhand compliment for lee haechan to decide that you're meant to be his—and he's more than happy to prove it every chance he gets. loud, relentless, and ridiculously devoted, he weaves himself into your days with the kind of shamelessness that should drive you insane. but maybe, against your better judgment, you're starting to realise you don't actually want him to stop.

pairing lee haechan x fem!reader genre fluff, college au warnings not proofread, mentions of smoking & asthma, profanities, hyuck has OVERLY down-bad behaviour word count 1.6k notes inspired by jinung & doyeon from head over heels :] i looove them & i love haechan. the only smoker id bat my lashes for

the first time you ever speak to lee haechan, you don't expect it to matter. he's your classmate—loud in a way you've always avoided, cocky in a way that seems to demand attention. people laugh when he talks, but more often at him instead of with him. you're not sure he notices.

that day, he's slouched in his seat as usual, chin tilted up towards the ceiling, sunlight glancing off his honey-warm skin. when you look closer, your eyes catch on to the scattered constellation of beauty marks across his cheek that trails down the line of his neck. you don't even think twice before saying, quietly, "they're pretty."

he blinks at you, slow, unsure. "what?"

"your moles," you explain softly, gesturing vaguely towards his cheek, his jaw, his throat. "they look like little stars."

it's a throwaway compliment for you, but something flickers in his expression—surprise, disbelief, a quiet, almost reverent sort of wonder. he opens his mouth, then closes it again, as if the right words won't come. later, you'll realise no one had ever told him they were beautiful before, and for you to say it so casually—to see him in a way no one ever had—makes something in his chest go loose and aching.

he laughs, but it comes out breathless, too giddy to hide.

the first time you realise lee haechan is going to be a problem, he's sitting far too close to you in class. his desk, technically, leaves enough space between yours to avoid suspicion, but his body doesn't seem to care for boundaries. his elbow brushes yours every few seconds, his knees stretching wide and unapologetically, as though he needs the constant reminder that you're real and right by his side.

"could you—" you hesitate, coughing softly into your fist before continuing, "could you sit a little further from me?"

haechan doesn't budge. if anything, his grin only widens. tilting his head so his messy brown hair falls into his eyes. "why? are you afraid of me?" his voice drops theatrically, the teasing lilt a little too practiced.

when you don't answer right away, he leans closer still, lowering his voice as if he's confiding in you. "or… is it because i'm too close and you're getting shy?"

you shake your head firmly, though your chest gives the faintest, most unwelcome hitch. "no, it's not that," you reply, clearing your throat. "its just—you reek of smoke, and i can't stand the smell of cigarettes." another cough breaks through your words, sharp enough to make you wince. "i have mild asthma, you see."

for once, haechan doesn't have a comeback ready. his smile falters as his eyes widen, tracing over your features like he's replaying your words in his head on loop. "so… you're feeling sick… because of me?"

"hm—i guess you could say that."

the silence that follows is odd for him, but only lasts about three seconds before haechan abruptly shoves his chair back with a screech that makes the entire class look over. without a word, he stalks towards the back of the room where the trash can sits, yanks a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and crushes them in this fist. the sound is almost violent, his knuckles white as he tosses the broken pieces into the bin.

then, in true lee haechan fashion, he turns dramatically to the class, poining a finger at the room with unearned authority. "i won't smoke again until the day i die!" he declared, voice ringing through the classroom. "so none of you are allowed to smoke either! if i catch anyone with a cigarette in hand, i'll—i'll kill you."

a pause.

from the corner, jeno mutters flatly, "you're the only one who smokes in this class, idiot…"

the whole room bursts into laughter, and haechan glares, but his eyes flicker back to you almost instantly—softening, almost sheepish. for someone who usually thrives on attention, his only concern now seems to be whether you're still coughing.

that becomes his new obsession.

within a week, you realise haechan has appointed himself your official-unofficial bodyguard against all secondhand smoke on campus. he barges into the boys' restroom mid-break, wagging a finger at freshmen and upperclassmen alike caught lighting up. "put it out! yn walks this way sometimes. what if she happens to breathe in your poisonous air?!"

his antics are ridiculous enough to cause a stir, yet he's unfazed by the mocking laughter that follows him out. he only beams proudly when he catches sight of you nearby, as though waiting for you to pat his head for being good.

you'd be lying if you said you weren't bewildered—maybe even a little touched—by the dedication.

but haechan's devotion isn't always subtle. he has a way of weaving himself into your routine without asking, as though the two of you had already silently agreed to it. he walks you back to your apartment after classes, even when it means going in the opposite direction of his own dorm. he keeps up a constant stream of chatter the whole way—compliments, complaints, insinuations that if you gave him a chance he'd treat you better than anyone else you've ever been with.

once, you told him he was overstepping. he only blinked, thought for no more than half a second, then said, "yeah… maybe. but you're still walking next to me, so maybe you don't mind that much. right?”

you roll your eyes, but your pen stumbles against the page when you feel the warmth of his gaze linger on you far longer than necessary. his compliments may be shameless, but the way he looks at you—as if you've hung the moon—leaves your chest feeling uncomfortably warm.

the real trouble, however, comes when he decides proximity is non-negotiable.

you're in the library, whispering the requirements of your joint assignment to him, outlining what had to be done and when. you were halfway through your explanation when you realised he hadn't taken a single note. his notebook was blank. instead, his chin rested on his palm, eyes fixed on the shift of your lips with an intensity that prickles your skin.

"...are you listening?" you asked finally, shifting uncomfortably.

"yes," he breathes, then pauses. "no." his gaze flicks down to your mouth again. "i mean—maybe i'd listen better if you, um… repeated everything while kissing me…"

your eyes widen. "haechan."

"yn," he parrots back, lips curling into a grin.

and then, out of nowhere, he leans in, lips puckered slightly, clearly aiming for your cheek.

you jerk back. "what are you doing?"

he looks almost sheepish, then bold all over again. "trying to kiss you?"

"wha—you can't just—"

"why not? you're right here… no one's looking…" his eyes dip to your lips, then back to your face, and for the first time, you realise how much he actually wants this. not as a joke, not as a game—he wants you, in his messy, hopeless way.

"no—because we're not…" you trail off, searching for words. "you can't just go around kissing random girls, haechan!"

he tilts his head, genuinely puzzled. "but i'm not trying to kiss a random girl… i want to kiss you."

"but we're not even dating… you—"

"oh." he blinks, thoughtful as if processing a concept that hadn't occured to him even after all these weeks, then brightens. "okay. then i'll be your boyfriend."

your jaw drops. "that's not how this works—"

"but why not? look… i'll prove it." his hand hovers in the air like he's debating whether to take yours, then boldly presses it against yours. his skin is warm, clammy even, but the weight of his palm is steady. he lifts your hands to his cheek, leaning against them with dramatic flourish, fluttering his eyes shut before cracking one open again. "see? we're holding hands now. that's what boyfriends and girlfriends do… right?"

you gape at him, torn between laughter and exasperation. "...you're unbelievable."

"unbelievably in love with you, yeah…" he says smoothly, though his ears are pink, betraying his nerves. "so? can i kiss you now?"

you don't even have time to argue before he's leaning across the table, heart-shaped lips puckering towards your own. mortified, you grab his arm and haul him out of the library, ignoring the amused snickers trailing after you. he stumbles along, completely unbothered, like a puppy thrilled to finally have your attention.

the moment the doors swing shut, haechan spins back to you, excitement sparking in his eyes. "you wanna go to somewhere more private?! ah—i don't think my roommate's home right now. why not we—"

"haechan."

he freezes, blinking rapidly at your tone. "...hm?"

you're glaring, exasperated and flustered all at once. "why do you think i dragged you out of the library?"

"because…" he tilts his head, lips parting in anticipation. "you're more comfortable kissing me out here?"

your jaw drops. "what? no."

his face falls instantly, but only for a second before the smile creeps back in, sly and boyish. "okay, okay. not now. but soon, right? you'll want to kiss me soon." his voice dips low, hopeful, and you realise, with dawning horror, that this boy has absolutely no concept of shame.

it's ridiculous. he's ridiculous. and yet, there's something about his persistence—the way he throws himself headfirst into liking you, no hesitation, no restraint—that lodges itself in your chest. you're not sure when it stopped feeling like annoyance and started feeling like something heavier, something you're secretly learning to crave.

because for all his dramatics and flirtations, you've noticed how haechan listens. he remembers your ailments. he notices when you're too tired to carry your books and takes them without asking. he hovers just close enough to be overwhelming, but never crosses a line that leaves you feeling truly uncomfortable. and for someone so infamously careless, his care for you is startling in its clarity.

and for the first time—somewhere between the cigarettes he swore off for your sake and the way he lights up every time you so much as look at him, you admit—if only silently, if only to yourself—that you find him pretty beyond his beauty marks.

[rcsejunie]

arguing with dreamies .·°՞(っ-ᯅ-ς)՞°·.

—lee mark

mark doesn’t like arguments, but he does defend what he believes in. passionately. almost to a fault. he’ll start out calm, hands up, saying, “okay, okay, i’m listening,” — but the second you challenge something he’s sure he’s right about, his eyebrows knit and he starts pacing lightly or shake his head unconsciously “i’m not trying to fight,” he insists, “i’m just saying, like, that’s not what happened.” he’s not raising his voice. he’s just stubborn. that earnest, frustrating kind of stubborn that comes from being too honest and too sure of what he remembers. and you’re tired. he can tell, but he’s still trying to finish his point, because in his mind, clearing it up will make things better. then he sees your lip tremble. everything in him deflates. he goes quiet, chewing his lip, shoulders lowering. “wait—wait, i’m sorry. i didn’t realize i was doing that,” he says softly. he sits beside you, leaning forward with his hands clasped. “explain it to me one more time, baby. i'm not gonna cut you off, i swear.” and when you finally let out what’s really bothering you, he listens for real.

—huang renjun

renjun’s biggest problem? he thinks rationality fixes everything. so when the argument begins, he goes straight into explanation mode, arms crossed, voice even, expression unreadable. “i’m not attacking you. i’m just explaining why it doesn’t make sense,” he says, which somehow makes it worse. you’re emotional. he’s logical. it’s oil and water. the more upset you get, the more confusion flickers across his face, like he genuinely can’t grasp why you’re reacting that way. but then he sees it: the way you look away, shoulders tightening, eyes glossy. and something in him stops cold. his expression softens instantly. he uncrosses his arms, takes a step closer, voice dropping to something fragile. “hey… don’t cry. i’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. he pulls you into a quiet hug, one arm around your waist, the other stroking your hair. “i wasn’t trying to belittle you. i just… talk stupid when i care too much.” and he holds you until your breathing steadies.

—lee jeno

jeno is a logical-first, feelings-second kind of guy. and when you argue, you feel it more than ever. you’ll raise your concern and he’ll immediately respond with something like, “okay, but objectively—” and you want to scream. he doesn’t mean to be cold. he thinks offering solutions is being caring. but sometimes his explanations sound like he’s dismissing your feelings, even when he isn’t. when you snap, “can you stop being a robot for one second?” jeno shuts down. not angrily, just internalizing. his jaw tightens, and he looks away for a moment like he’s recalibrating. when he finally speaks again, his voice is quiet, almost careful: “i’m not trying to invalidate you. i just don’t know how to handle it when you’re upset. i’m trying.” he sits next to you, hands clasped because he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. “tell me what you need from me,” he says honestly. and once you explain it, he really listens and his whole demeanor shifts. “okay,” he says softly. “i can do that. i want to do that.” his effort is clumsy but genuine… and it melts you every time.

—lee haechan

haechan jokes when he’s nervous. which is the worst combination during an argument. you’re upset, and he keeps trying to lighten the mood, tossing out comments like, “okay grumpy, relax,” not realizing he’s pouring gasoline on fire. when you finally snap, his face falls — like he genuinely didn’t expect it. around the boys he stays composed, pretending it’s fine, but the second you’re alone, he’s unusually quiet. he keeps glancing at you, eyes softening with every second. “what did i do?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. and when you tell him he hurt your feelings, his entire expression shifts — guilt taking over everything. he moves closer, tucking himself into your space, arms wrapping around your waist from the side. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs into your shoulder. “i should’ve read the room.” he kisses your cheek, nose, temple — tiny apologies scattered across your skin. “don’t shut me out, okay? i hate when you’re upset and i can’t fix it.” and he doesn’t let go until you melt into him.

—na jaemin

jaemin gets quiet. painfully quiet. he isn’t cold, he isn’t annoyed — he’s hurt. he sits still, eyes lowered, thinking too much all at once. when you snap at him, he absorbs it silently, nodding once like he deserves it. “i didn’t know i made you feel like that,” he says softly, which somehow breaks you more. he doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t defend himself. he just retreats inward, processing. you move away and he follows a few steps, not suffocating, but close enough to show he cares. “i don’t want us to fight,” he murmurs. “tell me how to fix this.” and when you do, he listens like you’re giving him sacred instructions. he reaches for your hand slowly, brushing your knuckles with his thumb. “come here,” he whispers, pulling you into a slow, grounding hug. his chin rests on your head, and he holds you like he’s trying to calm both your hearts. “i’m not going anywhere,” he adds quietly. “even when we’re like this.”

—zhong chenle

chenle reacts fast. talks fast. argues fast. he’ll notice something tiny, as trivial as your mismatched socks, or your forgotten umbrella. he'll comment immediately without thinking. on a good day, you laugh it off. on a bad one, like today, it grates. when you tell him to stop nagging, he scoffs, “i’m not nagging, i’m helping,” without realizing how sharp it sounds. but the moment he notices you shivering in the cold, or your eyes watering, or your silence stretching too long — he stops mid-sentence. “wait. are you actually upset?” his voice softens in a way it rarely does. he shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around you, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “i’m sorry,” he mutters, eyes darting away shyly. “i didn’t mean to be annoying.” he holds your hand as you walk, thumb rubbing circles apologetically. “i just worry about you. too much, probably.” and the sincerity in his voice makes your heart wobble.

—park jisung

jisung panics during arguments. he hates raised voices, even slightly sharp tones. the second he feels tension, he starts stumbling over his words, eyes widening in confusion and concern. “wait—what did i do? i swear i didn’t mean—” he keeps reaching toward you and pulling back, unsure if touching you will make it worse. when you look away, his whole face crumples. “don’t… don’t be mad at me,” he says quietly, almost pleading. he sits in front of you, knees drawn in, trying so hard to understand. “just tell me,” he begs softly. “i’ll fix it, i promise.” and as soon as you explain, he exhales shakily and scoots closer, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “i’m really sorry,” he clings to you while he whispers. “i don’t want to lose you.”

masterlist >.>

[hyeokis]

excuses, excuses ★ park jisung.

tags: park jisung x gn!reader. 450 words. fluff, drabble. just jisung being cutieful!!!

jisung, who creates a multitude of excuses solely to spend more time with you. he’d stretch the time with his bare hands, just so your date doesn’t have to end. it starts with logical reasons:

“we should get a sweet treat before i send you home,” he says, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh.

you glance at the matcha in your cup holder, “i thought the drinks counted as sweet treats?”

“well, it’s different. i kind of want ice cream.”

fair enough. a five-minute drive after, you find yourself sitting opposite him at an ice cream parlour. he took a while to choose a flavour — it took a few testers for him to decide on one. jisung even insisted for you to try out the flavours, claims that you should try something new — you suspect that he simply wants to feed you. 

on your way to the car, he comes across a convenience store and tells you he’s craving for gimbap. again, you follow, letting him hold your hand and rub circles against your thumb as he finds for his desired flavour. the raven leans his head against your shoulder as he scans rack to rack. 

“don’t you want to get your favourite?”

you feel the shake of his head against your neck, “wanna try something new.”

“right…” 

it doesn’t end there. he takes the long way home, drives a slow pace with the windows down, and finally — to jisung’s dismay — he parks in your neighbourhood. but he doesn’t unlock the door just yet. instead, he unbuckles the seatbelt and turns towards you.

“it’s a full moon and the weather’s nice outside, shall we take a walk?”

“don’t you have recording early in the morning tomorrow, baby?”

jisung’s lips pucker into a pout — just slightly, but it’s still there. a chuckle slips past your lips before you lean over to peck his. cutely, he chases your lips as you pull away, pouting even more upon seeing you laugh.

“but i really want to go on a walk with you…”

“no you don’t,” you chuckle, “you just don’t want to end our date.”

instantly, a hue of pink grazes his pale skin. caught in his lie! jisung looks away, slumping in his seat. the hopeful glint in his eyes are replaced by one of defeat.

how could you say no to that face? and so, you tilt his face with your hand,

“we shouldn’t go on a walk, ‘cause it’s already midnight and you’ll be tired. how about you stay the night, hm? you can rest and you’ll still have me.”

alas, happiness etches its presence back onto jisung’s face. he’s smiling, wasting no time to press kisses onto your cheek.

...and, the cycle continues on every date. <3

taglist (fill in the form!): @ch3rryd0ll @jenohyun @untilthesunrises @raevyng @peachysoso @peartreegarden @iliveforsmut3000 @chenlezip