⟢ ┆ stray kids x reader. ot8. established relationship.
⟢ author’s note: so i had this prompt in my list for the longest time and now finally i was hit with enough inspiration to write it for all eight of them lol. i have no idea if this qualifies as comfort or slight angst or what, but i hope you guys enjoy and as always i would love to read your thoughts on it<3
Friendly reminder to all the readers out there- please don’t ever hesitate to comment when you reread a fic. Even if you just say, “rereading this and enjoying it again!” It’s an amazing thing to know that someone enjoyed your work enough to come back again, and it’s honestly an even bigger compliment than a first time review.
And in case this is a concern, don’t ever feel embarrassed that we think it’s weird to hear from someone multiple times on a fic! I promise we do not ever think that!! 🥰🙏🏻
( 황현진 ) ; hyunjin's attention to detail isn't only present in art or dance.
bf!hyune x f!reader : fluff the art of observation nicknames wc: 557
────── 𝓈helf . . ノ 𝒸lick𝒸lick . .
hyunjin's charcoal-calloused fingers brushed against the nape of your neck, providing immense comfort. the small things, like the way he knew exactly what type of physical touch you needed to calm the array of thoughts living in your head, how he hummed a song you were singing in the shower, or how he noticed every little thing you did with your appearance.
"did you trim your bangs sweets?"
"did you tie your ribbon in a different way? it's pretty."
he had a rare way of paying attention to the intricate things that majority of people let slip past unknowingly - his sightings sweet and honeyed, spoken gently on the border of genuine worship.
you paused. he smiled, as if it were a trait that every single person on earth poessessed.
he was so steady - the way he paid such close, unwavering attention without making a big deal out of it. it wasn't loud or dramatic - it never was - grand gestures were considered foreign to him, but it was oh so consistent. his presence made everything feel softer and more calmer.
even when you both were in your different worlds, opting for a comforting silence, accompanied by tranquil acoustic tempos in the background of his home studio or the bubbling of the kettle brewing herbal japanese teas in the kitchen- he'd linger. hyunjin wouldn't say anything during this moment of solace, but his eyes would zero in on you with such pure, endearing intent, speaking volumes that words alone couldn't express.
he memorised everything, as if you were something that could vanish if he didn't hold enough.
"jagi...you're doing it again..." he mumbled, his eyes never leaving the subtle curve of your lips.
"hm?" you simply replied, putting the ceramic mug down on the wooden dining table.
"you're thinking your pretty little head off. your shoulders tense up a little...your brows furrow with that adorable crease...then you get so tangled up, your hair falls over your face...like a canopy of trees..." he slowly reached over, his body curating a haven of fragile stillness, as he tucked it behind your ear - his fingers adorning your cheekbones for just a little over a few seconds.
"...and...then you play with the bracelet - this one." he traces the thin, gold piece that decorated your wrist.
and when you looked back up at him, blinking out of the gaze you held on his lap, there was not a single trace of frustration or irritation - just pure, unadultered endearment and utter devotion.
"i didn't even realise, hyune." you said, admitting smaller than you intended to.
"i know," he replied. "that's why i notice."
he said it with so much love and normalcy - not proudly, or as if he wanted or expected praise - but as if it was factual. as if noticing your traits was as natural as breathing. hyunjin's padded thumb brushed lightly - mimicking a soft, chiseled paintbrush, smoothing the crease between your brows as if he was painting a canvas.
"i'm not even sure what the heck i think about all the time..." you said, a slight giggle escaping from your lips.
"that makes two of us then," he agreed. "but, we can figure it out together, hm?"
"you always do that." it was your turn to observe.
"hm?'
"you always stay."
"i'm right where i want to be. where else would i go?"
⟢ ┆ stray kids x reader. ot8. established relationship.
⟢ author’s note: helloo! this was requested twice lol so i guess it’s a popular trend going around and i finally brought myself to write it after the odyssey my life went through last month. i had lots of fun with it and i hope you all enjoy it<3
𓂃★ no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it ₊˚
3.1k+ words ☆𓂃
pairing ⋆ ˚. non idol!hyunjin x fem!reader
genre ☆・₊ fluff
warnings ₊ ★ ˚ college!au, swearing, internal panic, chanlix alluded too, i think thats all lol
a/n: what do you mean? i haven't been gone for months... no not at all... enjoy!
Part 2 | Part 3
not proofread
He’d been chewing on his lip for so long it was bleeding, the faint taste of iron on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t help it. You made him nervous. He tried not to be, you’d been friends for over a year now—inseparable for months—he shouldn’t be nervous around you. But god, looking at you now; hunched over, his hand in yours as you expertly swiped blue nail polish across his nail, biting your cheek like you always did when you were concentrating.
You’d asked if you could paint his nails, having found an inspiration pic on pinterest that you wanted to try out—and it was easier on someone else, or so you’d said. He told you yes without a second thought.
“Will you relax your fingers, please!?” You laugh, pulling his hand closer. Hyunjin laughs softly, muttering a quiet ‘sorry’ as he lets you manipulate his fingers. You were currently drawing a blue lightning shape on his ring finger, the brush held tight in your fingers as you filled it in.
Once the shape was to your liking, you set down the brush and blew softly on his fingers. His jaw clenched, seeing your lips so close to his hand—puckered and glossy. He looked away, suddenly feeling very weird about staring, but the feeling of your breath on his fingers was hard to ignore.
“So, what brought this on?” He asked, looking to fill the silence. “The nail art.”
You sit back up, cleaning up some of your brushes as you spoke, “My sister got me some really nice nail polishes and I wanted to try them out. But since I have gel on right now—and I’m impatient—I figured you’d be down to be my guinea pig. I’ve seen you wear nail polish before, plus the design I had in mind is easier to do on someone else.” You grab a bottle of silver polish, uncapping it and dropping a few dots onto your pallet. “Hand,” you hold out yours, Hyunjin lifts his and lets you take it.
This time, you're outlining the blue lightning—hand far more steady than when you were simply filling in the color.
“Have I mentioned how much I like your haircut?” You ask after a few moments of silence—minus the music Hyunjin had put on when you started—though you were still staring intently as his hand.
“Uh, yeah, I think you have,” Hyunjin shrugs, he’d buzzed his hair off last winter and it was slowly growing back in. You expressed your delight at his new look right after he did it, putting a lot of his worries to rest—he’d had long hair for so long. But now that it was a good bit longer, he started to style it kind of spiky; a tamed mess as Felix called it.
“Well I don’t know what it is about the length right now but…” She glanced up at him, tilting her head as her eyes inspect his current haircut. Hyunjin suddenly wished he’d put more care into how he styled it this morning, but you didn’t seem to care. “I really like it.”
“Thank you,” he laughs, hoping the warmth on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable. Your apartment was always dimly lit, but right now you had a bright light situated over his hands so you could see better. He was thankful when your attention focused back on his nails. The next hour or so was quiet, the occasional comment was made but you were mostly absorbed by the art being painted on his fingertips.
You’d done an amazing job, red and black were the main colors but there were also blue and white accents that made each unique nail work well together. Your hands were so soft against his, one keeping his hand steady while the other painted delicate lines across his nails.
“Do you always do your own nails?” He asks.
You nod, “I’ve always enjoyed it but I did occasionally go to a salon, it just started to get too expensive. So I started to grow my collection of polish and get some better tools. I prefer regular polish like I’m doing on you now but I do experiment with gel sometimes.”
“That’s so cool.”
“You’ve done nail art on yourself before,” you point out.
“Yeah, but nothing like this. I work better on a canvas than on my fingers.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Jinnie.”
Little did you know that he never would’ve started doing nail art if it wasn’t for you. He used to only wear black polish, if he wore it at all. But the more time he spent with you, the more he began to admire the detailed art you created on your nails and the many different styles you experimented with.
So he started small, a little star here, a simple flower there, even words or letters sometimes. Then, as he got better, he started to get more detailed. They were never as good as yours, regardless of how you gushed over them, but he was proud of how he’d improved.
Once you had finished his other hand, you stepped away from the table and started rifling through a box by your desk. It took you a moment to find what you were looking for but eventually you produced a little blue fan.
“You’re not in a rush to get out of here, right?” You asked, sliding back into your seat at the table. “You’ll want to wait at least thirty minutes before you try to touch anything.”
“N-no, no, I’m not in a rush,” Hyunjin shook his head, having no issue with spending more time here. Your apartment always felt so comforting, more than his own in a way he couldn’t quite articulate. You’d truly made the space your own, posters, artwork, photos, string lights, and plants strewn across the walls and shelves. Though he knew only one of the plants was real—the purple orchid he’d given you for your birthday, positioned by the window next to your bed. He was impressed you’d managed to keep it alive, and flushed at the idea that you thought of him every time you saw it. Next to the flower pot sat a small lamp, something you’d found at a thrift store, and come to think of it Hyunjin didn’t think he’d ever seen the overhead lights on in your room. You lived in low light, relying on lamps and your string lights to light up your space.
“How is your fine arts final going?” You asked as you positioned the small fan to blow across his nails. “You said you almost finished with it?”
Hyunjin taps his fingers stiffly on the table, “Yeah, I’m close. Felix says I could turn it in as is but… something about it feels incomplete.”
“I know how that is. It’s good to take a break and come back, lets you see it in a new light when you come back.”
He nods.
“What about you?” He asks after a few moments of silence, “You still working on your ancient history final?”
You groaned, leaning back in your chair, “Ugh, yes. It’s driving me crazy. It has to be at least 1500 words and I just can’t get there. I mean, I’ve still got over a week before it's due and I’m up to 1200 and I don’t think I can squeeze any more out. Like, what does she want from me? If I’ve said all I need to, how am I supposed to elaborate? She doesn’t want to read all of that, especially if it’s just what I said two paragraphs ago reworked—”
You rambled on for a while and Hyunjin was happy to watch, a faint smile on his face. You were always so animated when talking about things you were passionate about, hands waving wildly as your face contorted with each expression.
The conversation evolved from irritating assignments the two of you were procrastinating, to people in your classes that annoyed you (there were a lot), to a party a mutual friend was throwing that Friday to celebrate the end of the semester, though there was technically another week left.
“San and Wooyoung’s parties are the worst,” Hyunjin lamented as you gently tested each of his nails to see if they were dry.
“Have you ever been to one of their parties?” You asked suspiciously, resigning to turn the fan back on and point it back at his nails.
“No… but every time Felix comes back from one of them all he does is complain,” Hyunjin shuttered, remembering when Felix had come back to their shared apartment wet and reeking of vomit.
“Well that’s ‘cause it’s Felix,” you argued, pulling one of your legs to your chest and resting your chin on your knee. “He does have a habit of getting into messy situations. I remember one time he was hanging out with a group of second years and one of them ended up puking all over him. He tried to wash off in their shower, with his clothes on, but just ended up wet and gross.”
“I was just thinking about that!” Hyunjin exclaimed, laughing. “He never mentioned you were there.”
“I steered clear, vomit makes me squeamish,” you admitted. “What if we went together?”
“To the party?” Hyunjin asked.
You nodded, “Mhm.”
“I don’t know…” Without thinking, Hyunjin brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, then gasped, eyes wide. He ripped it away, inspecting his nails. They looked fine. You, on the other hand, had fallen over laughing at his reaction and subsequent panic. He could feel the blush creeping up his neck and all he could do was stare at you until you calmed down enough.
“I’m sorry, that was so cute,” you sat back up, wiping away nonexistent tears.
“Cute!?” He exclaimed.
“You were so scared you ruined it,” you shook your head, a smile still etched on your face.
“You just spent hours on this, of course I was worried. I would’ve felt so bad if I fucked it up after all that.” You reach forward, taking one of his hands and inspecting his nails, running your thumb over one of them gently. Despite the fact that you’d just spent the last two hours holding his hands, the contact still gave him butterflies.
“I think you’re good now, just be careful when you brush them against anything. I have a bad habit of overestimating how dry they are when I do my own nails and then ruining them,” you laughed nervously, letting go of his hands and pushing back from the table. You turned off the lamp and Hyunjin was suddenly plunged into a much darker space. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lower light, watching your shadowy form clean up your supplies and put away the lamp.
“Thanks for doing this,” Hyunjin said, pushing back from the table. It felt good to stretch his legs after so long sitting.
“I asked you to do this, you don’t have to thank me,” you glanced at him over your shoulder with a smile before turning back to organizing your polishes. Hyunjin wandered over, crouching behind you and watching closely as you set each polish into its designated place—you’d organized them by color. He couldn’t help but notice the scent of your perfume from where he was behind you, sweet and comforting in a way he couldn’t quite define, it was addicting.
You turned to stand up and blanched, almost falling backward. Hyunjin’s hand shot out to grab your waist to steady you.
“Jesus! Why are you teleporting!?” You laughed, letting Hyunjin help you up.
“Sorry,” Hyunjin said, a little sheepish. “I’m just impressed with your organization.”
You smiled, “Thanks. It’s the one thing I keep neat.” You gestured around to the rest of your room which could only be described as organized chaos. Hyunjin moved away, grabbing his bag before slowly moving towards the door. You followed, holding the door open as he stepped into the hallway.
“I’ll see you in Art History,” you leaned against the doorframe. “And think about the party, okay?”
“I will,” he nods. Truly, if you really wanted him to go, he would—even if he knew he’d hate every minute of it, if you were there, it’d be worth it. “See you around, Y/N.”
“Bye, Jin,” you waved, slipping back into your apartment. He didn’t move until the door clicked shut, then dashed towards the stairway. You lived on the third floor, and your building had no elevator, so Hyunjin skipped down three steps at a time—the advantage of long legs and dancer reflexes.
His voice echoed in the apartment as he burst through the door to their shared apartment, slamming it shut behind him, “Felix! Felix!? Lix!? Where are you?”
“My room!” His distant baritone called from down the hallway. Hyunjin dashed down the narrow hallway, throwing his bag through his open door before swinging around the corner into Felix’s room. He was—as usual—sitting at his desk gaming. But as Hyunjin leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, he paused and pushed back from the desk.
“What did Y/N do this time?” Felix asked, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Bro, Y/N was just doing my nails and… how did you know I was going to say something about Y/N?” Hyunjin stared at his friend with slight disbelief, though he really shouldn’t be surprised.
“Because I know you,” Felix grinned. “You’re so whipped.”
Hyunjin glared at him, though he couldn’t bring himself to deny it.
“She wants me to go to WooSan’s party Friday.”
“Mate, that’s sick! I was gonna go too!” Felix beamed, seeming genuinely excited at the idea. To be fair, he’d been trying to bring him to parties since they first became friends, Hyunjin was always the one to turn him down—coming up with one excuse or another.
“Felix… She invited me to a party,” Hyunjin stared wide-eyed at the blonde. “I hate parties.”
“You’ve never been to a party, how do you know you hate them?”
“Just the idea of them makes me anxious.”
“But if Y/N is there…” Felix said with a sing-songy voice, almost mocking.
Hyunjin whined, flopping onto Felix’s bed face first.
“You don’t have to go,” Felix’s chair creaked as he stood up, moving over to sit on the edge of his bed. “But I know you want to.”
“Only for her,” Hyunjin’s voice came out muffled by the comforter his face was pressed into. “And what if I freak out while I’m there, she’ll think I’m weird and then she won’t want to hang out with me anymore. Or if I tell her I don’t want to go she’ll hate me and think I don’t like her or want to hang out and—”
“Jinnie, you’re spiraling,” Felix interrupted. “Do you really think Y/N wouldn’t understand? She knows you. I’m sure she’d like you to go but it won’t be the end of the world if you say no.”
“I know…” Hyunjin flops into his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I just… I really like her, Lix.”
“I know you do,” Felix chuckles, moving to lay down next to him.
“I don’t want to fuck it up.”
“You won’t.”
Hyunjin sat up, looking down at Felix with an exasperated expression, “How do you know that?”
“What could you possibly do to fuck it up? What could be so bad she’d stop liking you? Unless you seriously offend her or do something horrible, which I know you wouldn’t do, I think you’re safe.”
“I don’t even know if she likes me,” Hyunjin falls back on the bed with a soft ‘poof’, the comforter puffing out under him.
“She likes you,” Felix says, finite.
“How do you know?” Hyunjin turns his head towards the blonde who was already looking at him. “Maybe she just sees me as a friend. I mean, best friends act like we do, right? Look at you and Chan—”
“Chan and I are a bad example…” Felix mumbled, getting up from the bed and walking over to his desk. He grabbed his phone before wandering back to the bed. Hyunjin was about to ask what he meant by that before Felix flopped down on his stomach, held up by his elbows. He scrolled for a few moments before letting out a big sigh and turning to Hyunjin.
“Because I am sick of your bitching, I will show you this. But only if you promise to go to the party Friday and tell her how you feel.”
“Lix—”
“Nope, those are my conditions,” he held out his hand expectantly. Hyunjin stared at it for a moment before conceding to shake. Once they let go, Felix replaced his hand with his phone. “Read.”
Hyunjin brought his attention to Felix’s phone, they were screenshots of a conversation—the contact said Y/N.
“What is this?”
“Just read,” Felix insisted.
Y/N <3 [10:09 AM]
he’s probably one of the most oblivious people i’ve ever met
Chae ʚɞ [10:09 AM]
That checks out for Hyunjin
Y/N <3 [10:10 AM]
i want to tell him
but what if i scare him away
Chae ʚɞ [10:11 AM]
How would you scare him away?
You think he likes you right?
Y/N <3 [10:11 AM]
i think so
i’m not sure though
Chae ʚɞ [10:12 AM]
What are the downsides to telling him?
Y/N <3 [10:13 AM]
i could lose his friendship, i don’t want to risk that
he means the world to me
i want to keep him in my life. even if it can’t be romantic
Chae ʚɞ [10:14 AM]
And the downsides to not telling him?
Y/N <3 [10:16 AM]
i have to live with the fact that i’m in love with my best friend…
Chae ʚɞ [10:16 AM]
and which is worse?
Y/N <3 [10:21 AM]
how are you so logical all the time?
Chae ʚɞ [10:22 AM]
Cause I’m a genius
Y/N <3 [10:22 AM]
yes you are
Chae ʚɞ [10:23 AM]
So go get your man
Y/N <3 [10:25 AM]
i’ll think about it
Chae ʚɞ [10:25 AM]
Y/N!?!
The screenshot cut off there.
“Why do you have these?” Hyunjin asked, Felix’s phone still loosely in his hand.
Felix took it back, “Chaeryeong and I share a class and we’ve been commiserating about our respective lovesick friends and how annoying they are.”
“So… she likes me?” Hyunjin asked, ignoring the fact that Felix called him annoying.
“Mhm,” Felix nodded.
“She likes me…” Hyunjin wouldn’t process the words coming out of his mouth. Sure, he’d always hoped you liked him, dreamt about it—but now that he was faced with the reality that you did, everything suddenly felt too real.
And now he was going to have to go to that stupid party.
sorry i've been mia, life has gotten crazy busy but i hope you enjoyed! comments, like and reblogs are always appreciated <3
Relationships: skz x gn!reader (ot8 - individually!) (no use of pronouns)
Genre: Mild stress, social media, established relationship, the boys made an oopsie
Summary: Your boyfriend interacted with your IG account, which would be totally normal, except he didn't realize he was on his main when he did it.
A/N: Just thought this would be funny LOL your boys love you so much they didn't realize the mistake they made until it was too late. They became so Plotty and Dramatic that I had to do hyung/maknae again to fit em all in. Enjoy!
Summary: a cozy pottery date with Hyunjin where his art is perfect, yours is a mess—and he loves it anyway.
Word count: 904
———————————————
The bell above the door chimed softly as you stepped into the pottery studio, the warm scent of clay and paint immediately wrapping around you. It was cozy—sunlight spilling through wide windows, shelves lined with half-painted mugs, bowls, and little trinkets waiting to be brought to life.
Hyunjin squeezed your hand gently. “This is cute,” he murmured, eyes already wandering over the displays with quiet fascination.
“You say that now,” you teased, tugging him further inside. “Wait until you see my artistic skills.”
He glanced at you, lips curving. “I’m excited.”
That made you laugh because he sounded so sincere, like he genuinely believed you were about to create something incredible.
A staff member guided you to a small table near the window and set down two pieces you’d chosen—a mug for him and a small plate for you—along with brushes and a palette of paints.
You picked up a brush immediately, twirling it between your fingers. “Okay,” you said, squinting at the blank plate. “I have no plan.”
Hyunjin, on the other hand, sat with quiet focus, already mixing colors like he’d done this a hundred times before. “You don’t need one,” he said softly. “Just do whatever you feel.”
You watched him for a second. The way his brows furrowed slightly, how carefully he tested colors on the edge of his mug—it was kind of unfair how naturally artistic he was.
“You look like you belong in an art documentary right now,” you mumbled.
He huffed a small laugh. “Stop watching me. Paint.”
“Right, right.”
You dipped your brush into a random color—yellow—and made a small, hesitant stroke across your plate.
…Okay.
Not terrible.
Encouraged, you added more. A swirl. Then another. Then dots. Then… something that was meant to be a flower but very quickly stopped resembling anything recognizable.
Meanwhile, Hyunjin’s brush moved with calm precision. You peeked over again, and your jaw dropped slightly.
“Wait—what?”
He blinked. “What?”
“That’s… insane.”
On his mug, soft pastel strokes blended into what looked like a delicate, dreamy sky, tiny stars scattered across it with careful detail. It looked like something you’d see in a shop and immediately assume cost way too much.
“You literally just started,” you said, pointing. “How is it already a masterpiece?”
Hyunjin glanced at it like it was nothing. “It’s okay.”
“Okay?” You stared at him. “Mine looks like it got into a fight and lost.”
He leaned over to look at your plate—and then smiled.
Not a teasing smile. Not a fake one.
A soft, fond one.
“It’s cute.”
You burst into laughter. “No, it’s not.”
“It is,” he insisted gently. “It looks happy.”
“Happy?” you repeated, incredulous, looking down at your chaotic mix of colors. “Hyunjin, I tried to paint a flower and now it looks like a… a confused sun.”
He laughed quietly at that, the sound warm and low. “Then it’s a very charming confused sun.”
You shook your head, giggling as you added more random strokes. “I’m just committing to the mess at this point.”
“Good,” he said. “I like it.”
You kept painting, less carefully now, just enjoying it. Your plate turned into a mix of swirls, dots, uneven lines, and little shapes that didn’t quite make sense—but somehow, it made you smile.
Every now and then, you’d glance at Hyunjin again, watching the way he worked. He added details so delicately, blending colors effortlessly, completely lost in what he was doing.
“You’re so pretty when you focus,” you said absentmindedly.
His hand paused for a second before he looked at you, ears faintly pink. “You’re distracting me on purpose.”
“Maybe,” you grinned.
When you finally both put your brushes down, you leaned back in your chair and compared your pieces.
“Okay,” you said, gesturing dramatically. “On the left, we have Hyunjin’s breathtaking, gallery-worthy mug. And on the right… my emotional support plate.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Stop.”
“No, seriously,” you said, picking yours up. “This is… something.”
You turned it slightly, examining the uneven paint and accidental smudges, and started giggling again. “Why does it actually look worse the longer I look at it?”
Hyunjin reached over, gently taking the plate from your hands.
“It doesn’t,” he said.
“It does.”
He studied it for a moment, thumb brushing lightly over the edge. “You made it,” he said simply. “That’s why I like it.”
Your laughter faded into a softer smile. “You’re biased.”
“Obviously,” he replied, meeting your eyes.
There was something in the way he looked at you—so warm, so certain—that made your chest feel all soft and fluttery.
He set your plate down carefully, then slid his mug a little closer to you. “We can match them,” he said. “They go together.”
You raised a brow. “In what universe?”
“In mine.”
You laughed again, shaking your head, but your cheeks felt warm.
“You’re ridiculous.”
He smiled, leaning a little closer across the table. “You’re cute.”
You nudged his arm lightly. “Flattery won’t make my plate better.”
“It already is,” he said.
You looked at him for a second longer, then glanced back at your messy, chaotic plate—and smiled.
“Okay,” you admitted softly. “Maybe I like it too.”
“Good,” he murmured.
Because sitting there, sunlight spilling over the table, paint smudged on your fingers, Hyunjin beside you with that gentle smile—
𝙒𝙄𝙉𝙀 & 𝘿𝙄𝙉𝙀 এ how skz would wine and dine their partner
এ pairings: skz ot8 x reader (individually)
এ genre: fluff, romance
এ warnings: none really
এ word count: 2.8k
এ a/n: lowkey shit lmao but i wrote this in like 1 hour (sorry if anything feels repetitive in the fic, i tried to change it up for each one)
এ tag list: @ppangbalism @gadriezmannsgirl @stayville-citizen @velvetmoonlght @minho4luv @fandomtrash11 @latenightskz @yeonii08 @strcyk1ds
এ navigation
এ Bang Chan
Chan would approach wining and dining his partner with the same meticulous care he brings to everything else in his life. Weeks in advance, he'd be researching restaurants, reading reviews, and mentally cataloging every food preference you have ever mentioned in passing. He'd remember that offhand comment you made three months ago about loving truffle pasta, or how you mentioned wanting to try that new fusion place downtown.
The reservation would be made for a time that works perfectly with both of your schedules—he'd never make you feel rushed. Chan would choose somewhere with a balance of sophistication and comfort: upscale enough to feel special, but not so formal that conversation feels stifled. He'd probably pick a place with dim lighting and intimate booth seating where you could sit close together.
Throughout dinner, Chan would be completely present. His phone would be on silent, tucked away, because this time is sacred. He'd ask thoughtful questions, really listening to the answers, his eyes crinkling with genuine interest as you talks about your day, your dreams, your thoughts about the future. He'd have this way of making even mundane stories feel important, nodding along and asking follow-up questions that show he's truly engaged.
When it comes to ordering, Chan would be subtly attentive—suggesting dishes he knows you would love, offering to share multiple things so you can try everything. If you're indecisive, he'd gently help narrow down options without being pushy, trying to figure out what you would like the most. And he'd absolutely insist on taking care of the bill, brushing off any protests with that dimpled smile and a soft "I wanted to do this for you."
The evening wouldn't end at the restaurant. He'd take you on a walk afterward, maybe along the river or through a beautifully lit neighborhood, where conversation could continue naturally. He'd offer his jacket without being asked if there's even a hint of cold, and he'd reach for your hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. Every detail would whisper: You matter to me. I thought about you. I want you to feel cherished.
এ Lee Know
Minho would approach dating with his characteristic blend of cool confidence and hidden softness. He'd choose somewhere trendy but not pretentious—like a modern Korean restaurant with an extravagant menu with lots of complex yet heartfelt dishes. The atmosphere would be stylish enough to impress but relaxed enough for his playful personality to shine through.
From the moment you sit down, there'd be this electric dynamic of teasing and genuine affection. Minho would make his usual witty observations about the menu, the décor, the other diners—delivered with that signature deadpan expression that makes everything 100x funnier than they should be. He'd probably mock you gently for taking too long to decide what to order, but then immediately suggest getting both dishes you're torn between because he "wants to try everything anyway."
The food stealing would be inevitable and shameless. Minho would reach across with his fork, spearing a bite from your plate with a mischievous glint in his eyes. When you protest, he'd just smirk and offer his own plate in return, creating this intimate back-and-forth of sharing. It's his love language—this casual, comfortable intimacy that says what's mine is yours.
But beneath the teasing exterior, Minho would be incredibly attentive. He'd notice if you seemed tired or stressed, and he'd subtly steer conversation toward lighter topics. He'd remember your drink preferences perfectly, probably ordering for you before they even look at the menu. And in unexpected moments—between jokes and playful jabs—he'd drop these devastatingly sincere compliments that you completely off-guard. "You look really beautiful tonight," delivered so matter-of-factly it takes a moment to register, followed immediately by him changing the subject like he didn't just make their heart skip.
The evening would feel effortless with Minho, like spending time with someone who knows you completely and likes you anyway—teasing included.
এ Changbin
Changbin would wine and dine with unabashed enthusiasm and warmth. He's not trying to play it cool—he's genuinely excited to spend quality time with you, and it shows in everything he does. He'd probably choose somewhere interactive and fun, like a high-end Korean BBQ where you can grill together, or a lively restaurant with shareable dishes and a buzzing atmosphere.
From the start, Changbin would be openly affectionate and complimentary. "You look amazing" would come naturally, accompanied by that bright smile that reaches his eyes. Throughout the meal, he'd be animated and expressive, telling stories with his whole body, making you laugh with his natural charisma and occasional aegyo that he'd pull out specifically to see them smile.
At Korean BBQ, Changbin would absolutely take charge of the grilling, insisting on cooking the meat perfectly for you because you only deserve the best in his eyes. He'd prepare each piece with care, placing the best bites directly on their plate with a satisfied nod. "Try this one, I cooked it perfectly," he'd say with endearing confidence. The act of caring for you through food would feel natural to him, almost protective.
Conversation with Changbin would never lag. He'd want to know everything—about you day, your thoughts, your opinions on random topics. He'd share his own stories enthusiastically, probably getting sidetracked into tangents that somehow circle back to how much he appreciates you. "That reminds me of when you..." would be a common phrase, showing how often he thinks about you.
Changbin wouldn't be shy about physical affection either. A hand on the small of your back when walking to the table, reaching across to wipe a bit of sauce from the corner of your mouth, playing with your fingers across the table—all natural expressions of his affection. The entire evening would feel warm, secure, and joyful, like being wrapped in Changbin's genuine enthusiasm for the relationship.
এ Hyunjin
Hyunjin would approach wining and dining as an art form in itself. Every element would be considered: the aesthetic of the restaurant, the presentation of the food, the ambiance of the lighting. He'd choose somewhere visually stunning like a restaurant with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, and with artistic décor splayed on the walls.
The entire evening would feel like stepping into a romantic film. Hyunjin would arrive looking effortlessly elegant, and he'd take a moment to appreciate your appearance with genuine admiration in his eyes. "You're beautiful" wouldn't just be words—it would be an observation, stated with the same appreciation he'd give a piece of art.
Throughout dinner, Hyunjin would notice details you might miss—the way the candlelight reflects in their wine glass, how the sunset through the window creates perfect golden hour lighting, the artistic plating of each dish. He'd probably want to capture some moments, not obsessively, but in that way where he wants to preserve beautiful memories. "The lighting is perfect right now," he'd say softly, and whether or not you take photos, the moment itself would feel preserved in amber.
Conversation with Hyunjin would flow between deep and dreamy. He'd ask philosophical questions about life and love, share his artistic inspirations, and listen with intense focus when you speak. There's something about his attention that feels complete—like in that moment, nothing else in the world exists but this conversation, this connection.
Hyunjin would be romantic in unexpected ways. He might bring a single flower, not a whole bouquet—but rather something elegant and simple. He'd reach across the table to tuck your hair behind your ear, let his hand linger on yours, create these soft moments of physical connection that feel both natural and intentional.
If possible, he'd plan for the dinner to end somewhere scenic—a walk along the beach at sunset, or a viewpoint overlooking city lights. The entire experience would feel like poetry, each moment carefully composed but never forced, creating an evening you would remember in soft-focus, warm-toned memories.
এ Han
Han would bring his whole heart to wining and dining his partner—emotions, humor, vulnerability, and all. He'd probably be adorably nervous beforehand, texting his you updates like "I'm on my way!" "Actually stuck in traffic, sorry!" "Okay NOW I'm on my way!" that somehow make the anticipation even sweeter.
The restaurant choice would be somewhere comfortable enough for genuine conversation likea cozy Italian place with a relaxed vibe yet loud enough to nor feel awkward when talking. Han would want atmosphere, but not so much formality that he can't be himself.
From the moment they sit down, Han would have you laughing. He'd do impressions of the overly formal waiter, make up ridiculous backstories for other diners, and narrate his internal monologue about choosing between pasta dishes with dramatic flair. But between the jokes and the laughter, there would be these moments of sudden sincerity that take your breath away.
"I'm really happy right now," he'd say out of nowhere, his expression softening. "Like, genuinely happy. Being here with you." And it would be so honest, so unguarded, that it would feel more romantic than any rehearsed line.
Han would be the type to reach across the table and just hold your while you talk, thumb brushing over your knuckles absently. He'd get animated when discussing music or something he's passionate about, then immediately redirect: "But wait, I want to hear about your thing—tell me more about that project you mentioned."
The emotional availability would be Han's superpower. He'd create space for real conversation—not just surface-level date talk, but actual feelings, dreams, fears, random thoughts at 2 AM. He'd share his own vulnerabilities too, creating this beautiful reciprocity of trust.
If you seem stressed or down, Han would notice immediately and shift into comfort mode—making it his mission to lift your spirit, whether through humor, heartfelt reassurance, or just listening. The evening would feel like spending time with someone who sees you completely and loves what he sees, someone who makes you laugh until your cheeks hurt and then makes your heart swell with unexpected tenderness.
এ Felix
Felix would approach wining and dining with his characteristic sunshine warmth and genuine enthusiasm. There would be nothing calculated about it—he'd choose a restaurant he's genuinely excited about, somewhere he thinks you would love, and his authentic joy would make the entire evening feel special.
He'd probably pick somewhere known for comfort food with a gourmet twist, or a place with a cozy, welcoming atmosphere. The vibe would be "elevated comfort," matching Felix's own energy.
From the moment you meet, Felix's smile would be radiant. He'd compliment you naturally and often—not in an over-the-top way, but with genuine appreciation. "I love that color on you," or "Your smile is my favorite thing," delivered with such sincerity it's impossible not to believe.
Felix would be endearingly enthusiastic about the food. He'd want to share everything, pushing dishes toward you with the words "You have to try this!" His eyes would light up with each new flavor, and his genuine reactions would make even simple dishes feel like an adventure. If he knew you love something particular—chocolate desserts, a specific cuisine—he'd have specifically chosen this restaurant with that in mind.
Conversation with Felix would feel easy and warm. He'd be genuinely interested in everything you has to say, asking follow-up questions and remembering details from previous conversations. "How did that thing go? The one you were worried about last week?" He'd share his own stories too, probably getting adorably sidetracked and then laughing at himself for rambling.
Physical affection would come naturally—a hand on your arm when laughing, leaning in close to hear them better, the kind of casual touching that speaks to comfort and affection. Felix would make you feel like you're the most interesting, wonderful person in the world, because in that moment, to him, you absolutely are.
The evening would end with Felix not wanting it to be over, suggesting "just one more drink" or "a quick walk" because he's genuinely enjoying every moment. Being with Felix would feel like being wrapped in a blanket of warmth and genuine care.
এ Seungmin
Seungmin would wine and dine with his signature blend of sharp wit and unexpected softness. He'd choose somewhere sophisticated but not stuffy. The atmosphere would be refined enough to feel special but relaxed enough for his personality to shine.
The evening would be filled with lighthearted banter. Seungmin would tease you endlessly, make dry observations about everything from the menu descriptions "'Deconstructed' just means they didn't finish making it" to the ambient music choices. His humor would keep things light and entertaining, creating an atmosphere where laughter comes easily.
But Seungmin's real romantic power would be in the unexpected moments of genuine tenderness. Just when you think the whole evening will be playful teasing, he'd say something devastatingly sincere. "I'm glad I get to do this with you," delivered with direct eye contact and a soft smile that transforms his whole face. These moments would be all the more powerful for their rarity and authenticity.
He'd be observant in the most quiet ways—noticing if your wine glass is empty and refilling it, remembering your preferences from previous dates, picking up on subtle mood shifts. "You okay?" he'd ask softly if he sensed something was off, and the genuine concern in his voice would make it clear that beneath the wit, he cares deeply.
Seungmin would be the type to have actually thought about what to order, maybe even looked at the menu beforehand. He'd make thoughtful suggestions based on what he knows you like, but frame it casually so it doesn't seem like he's been planning (even though he definitely has).
The conversation would be stimulating—Seungmin would want to talk about interesting topics, share opinions, engage in friendly debate. He'd challenge you intellectually while making it fun, creating the kind of dynamic where both people leave feeling energized and connected.
Throughout the evening, there would be these small gestures that reveal his care: adjusting the candle so it's not in your eyes, offering his jacket, walking on the street side of the sidewalk. Seungmin would show his affection through actions as much as words, creating an evening that balances entertainment with genuine romance and attraction.
এ I.N
Jeongin would approach wining and dining with a charming mix of youthful playfulness and surprising maturity. He'd choose somewhere trendy and Instagram-worthy—he'd want his partner to feel like they're somewhere special and cool, somewhere worth getting dressed up for. Maybe a rooftop restaurant with city views, or a stylish fusion place that's been getting buzz.
From the start, there would be this playful energy. Jeongin would tease you about taking too long to get ready (even though he thinks you look perfect), make jokes about being a "proper gentleman" while exaggeratedly pulling out your chair, and generally keep things light and fun. His smile would be constant—that bright, genuine smile that makes his eyes disappear.
But underneath the playfulness, Jeongin would be genuinely trying to impress. He'd have put thought into his outfit, the restaurant choice, the timing. He'd want you to feel special and cared for, even if he'd deflect any acknowledgment of his efforts with humor.
Throughout dinner, Jeongin would be attentive in sweet ways. He'd remember your favorite dishes and suggest similar items on the menu. If you mention being cold, he'd immediately offer his jacket. If you seem stressed about something, he'd try to make you laugh or offer surprisingly thoughtful advice—showing that maturity that sometimes catches people off-guard.
The teasing would be constant but always affectionate. He'd steal food from his your plate with a mischievous grin, make fun of your reactions to trying new foods, and generally create this dynamic of playful intimacy. But he'd also be the first to sincerely compliment you with that shy smile of his.
Jeongin would want to make memories—he'd probably suggest taking photos together, trying the signature cocktail even if it looks ridiculous, or sharing the most elaborate dessert on the menu. The evening would feel young and alive, full of laughter and lightness, but grounded in genuine affection and care.
As the night winds down, Jeongin would be reluctant for it to end, suggesting you walk around a bit more or find somewhere for late-night coffee. Being with him would feel like an adventure—fun and exciting, but also safe and cherished, like being with someone who makes you feel both giddy and genuinely cared for.
Summary: Something about you just makes their brain go static
Content: Fluff!!!!! Hyunjin is a little insecure, Felix and Seungmin are a lil touchy 🫣 I don't remember if there is swearing lol
Word count: 9.4k (idk why it's so long 😭)
A/N: Omg hi! First post but def won't be the last. Got lots of stuff brewing. Lmk if you like it :) I got a little carried away with a few of these, got a little deeper than I meant to, but oh well.
Masterlist
~~~~
Chan:
Chan is in the studio, per usual, working through some tracks with Han and Changbin. They have been there for a while, but they are on a roll. Then there is a soft knock on the door. You peak your head in, “Hey, I brought some dinner, since I’m assuming you didn’t eat.”
Han and Changbin jump up immediately. “Thanks Y/N!”
“Heck yeah! I was starting to get hungry.”
You giggle as they start digging through the food. You step over to Chan who hasn’t moved yet. “Sorry I didn’t text. It was a last minute thing.”
He stares at you for a minute, saying nothing, face blank.
“Chan?” You wave your hand in front of his face. “You okay?”
He shakes his head and blinks, “Yeah, sorry.” His voice cracks just a bit in a very manly and normal way of course. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m glad you stopped by.”
You smile, relieved he isn’t bothered by the sudden appearance, “Well, I can’t stay. I have to get home to work on some things. Don’t stay up too late.” You point to Han and Changbin who have already stuffed their face with food, “Don’t let him stay up too late or I’ll never bring you food again.” They both aggressively nod their head as if it’s life and death. You laugh at their silliness, turning back to Chan. You lean down to kiss his forehead and whisper, “Love you. See you later.” You walk past the boys, giving a small wave as you leave the studio.
Han swallows his mouthful, “Your girlfriend is the best.”
“Earth to Chan.” Han waves his hands in Chans face. Chan just slowly turns to look at Han, face blank, mouth slightly agape. “Are you okay man?”
Chan finally snaps out of it, clearing his throat, “Yeah…sorry. Let’s uh get back to work.”
“Can’t we take a second to eat?” Changbin whines.
“Eat while we work.” Chan orders.
The boys roll their eyes but follow.
“So, we were discussing switching Lee Know and I.N. on this part.” Changbin recaps, “I think Lee Know’s voice fits the lyrics better, but what do you think?”
“I think both of them fit the vibe. Channie-hyung you wrote the lyrics, who do you think matches the vibe better.” Han looks to Chan who is staring blankly at his computer.
“Uuuuh, I—uh…” Chans brain has done a full stop. As soon as you walked in, his ability to function walked out. The surprise visit was enough to fluster him, but the fact that you brought food when they hadn’t even asked for it, knowing they hadn’t eaten…that really spiked his pulse. He thought he could still pull through until you kissed his forehead. Now his head is just a loading screen. All he can think about is your soft smile that warms the deepest parts of him. Your laugh that fills the room, even when it’s quiet. The feel of your lips on his skin, your soft voice on repeat, “Love you. See you later.”
“Hello?!” Chan is snapped out of his daze by Changbin yelling at him, “Are you even in the room right now?”
Chan blinks, staring up at the door, “I think she took me with her.” His voice is barely a whisper, almost like the words escaped without him noticing.
Han groans, rolling his eyes, “Oh my gosh, he’s so whipped that he stopped functioning.”
Changbin shakes his head, smile spreading on his face despite his annoyed tone, “Looks like we are done for the night. Y/N really has you wrapped around her finger, huh?”
Chan doesn’t hear anything but your name. Before he can think, his hands go to pack up his stuff and leave. As he drifts out the door, his main thought being only you, he mumbles back to the boys, “We’re done for the night.”
They give each other a look, “We just said that…”
“Can he even walk home?” Han questions.
“I think he knows exactly where he is going.” Changbin laughs.
And he was right. Chan knows exactly where he is going: home. You.
Lee Know:
Lee Know prides himself on his ability to stay focused and unbothered. So, when he suddenly loses focus mid-dance routine, of course everyone notices. He has been off all practice. His steps were messy; he was getting off beat; at one point, he ran face first into Hyunjin. The source of his brain fog? You decided to sit in on practice today. When you suggested it, Lee Know easily agreed. He had no idea that it would throw him completely off kilter. You aren’t even doing anything. But you don’t need to do anything to catch his attention. As you sit there in sweats and a hoodie—his hoodie—his eyes can’t help drifting over to you. After running into him for the third time, Hyunjin has had enough.
“What is up with you today?” He complains.
Lee Know frowns, unwilling to admit that he can’t function around you, “Nothing. Maybe you should stop running into me.”
“You ran into me…again!”
Before things can get out of hand, Chan steps in, “Okay, we’ve been dancing for a while now, maybe we should take a breather.”
Everyone sighs, relieved to have a break. The boys move to sit down or grab their water and Lee Knows gaze moves over to you again. You look up from your phone and make eye contact. Immediately you smile and give a small wave, your hand swallowed in the hoodie.
. . .
Lee Knows brain goes blank again. He is frozen in the middle of the dance floor. You look back down, assuming he is going to walk over in a minute, but Lee Know doesn’t move. Rather, he can’t move. His body isn’t sure how to move. All the boys look at him, confused, as he stands like a statue. Chans gaze follows Lee Knows and finally understands what is going on. He can’t help laughing a bit.
“What’s wrong with Lee Know?” Felix whispers to Chan.
“I think he’s in love.” Chan points to where you are sitting and Felix gets it too.
He gets up and walks over to Lee Know who doesn’t even acknowledge Felix’s presence.
“Oi, maybe you should go talk to her instead of staring like a creep.”
Lee Know just lets out a huff. Felix doesn’t know if that is an acknowledgement or a default response. He pushes Lee Know towards you, causing Lee Know to almost fall on his face in front of you. As he comes tumbling over, he ends up bracing his hands on the wall above you, his whole body leaning over you. You look up confused. “Hey,” You breathily laugh.
Lee Knows cheeks have never been redder, “hi…” his voice is tiny.
You smile up at him and he swears he is going to explode. “Are you going to sit down or is that position really comfortable?”
He clears his throat, pushing off the wall. He sits down in front of you and you slide forward so that you are sitting between his knees. If his face wasn’t red before, it definitely is now.
“Hi cutie,” you peck a soft kiss on his nose, “Your dancing was good.”
“Thanks.” His voice is higher than usual.
“You seem a bit distracted though.”
“It’s nothing. Just a bit off today.”
You lean to look past him, the rest of the boys watching this interaction trying not to laugh (most of them failing), “Maybe I should head home.”
His eyes get wider and softer like a sad kitten, “Why?”
You laugh, your hands moving up to squish his cheeks, “I seem to be a bit of a distraction.”
“You’re never a distraction.” His words are mushed by your hands.
You shake your head, knowing full well the effect you have on him, “Whatever you say pretty boy. I can ‘not be a distraction’ later. Right now you need to focus on your practice.” You move to gather your stuff and leave. As you stand up Lee Know grabs the hem of your sleeve, looking up at you with the saddest eyes. You lean down and place a gentle kiss on his lips, “I’ll see you at home silly.” You giggle at his adorable expression and you swear he whimpers as you walk out of the room. As soon as you are out of sight, the boys go crazy laughing and shaking Lee Know.
“Someone’s in looooooove.”
“What’s the matter pretty boy.”
“Is someone a little distracted?” Their teasing snaps him out of his daze. He immediately death glares them, successfully shutting them up, “Not a word.” He stands up and starts the music back, “Shut up and practice.”
The boys quickly move into position obediently. They continue practice but not without continuous teasing. This time Hyunjin risks his life by running into Lee Know on purpose, mocking his earlier response, “Nothings wrong. You ran into me.” Whenever they have a break, Han keeps poking him, all singsongy, “You’re in love. You’re in love.”
Despite the teasing, no one gets air fried because Lee Know is too distracted thinking about you to properly scold anyone.
Changbin:
You walk into the café to see Changbin talking to a staff member. You agreed to meet in the JYP building café for a quick lunch since neither of you have a very long lunch break. You sneak up behind him, gesturing for the staff member to keep quiet. Before he can notice, you throw your arms around his waist, squeezing him from behind.
“What the-“ He turns to look and see’s you laughing.
“Gotcha.” You smile.
“H-hey Y/N, you…you scared me,” he lets out an awkward laugh, trying to hide the fact that he is flustered.
“Aw, scared you so bad you’re stuttering,” You tease.
He just laughs and looks away, hoping that will hide the pink in his cheeks. In truth, you did startle him, but not because he didn’t expect the attack. You startled him by looking so damn cute. Your small arms (in comparison to his) wrapping around his waist. How your eyes close when you laugh that laugh that makes his heart skip a beat. Not to mention how you are done up to look professional for work. Even though he see’s you all the time, something about today, about you sneaking up on him made it all hit differently.
You rest your chin on his shoulder and give a small greeting to the staff member. They quickly finish their thought and take their leave. You move beside Changbin to lace your fingers through his, “Did I interrupt something important?”
Changbin stares down at your hand, warmth spreading up the back of his neck.
“Binnie?”
“Huh?” His eyes snap back up to yours. “Oh, no. I was just thanking them for the help with our last schedule.”
You nod and move towards the counter, pulling him with you. You lean over to him while he stares blankly at the menu, “What are you getting?”
. . .
“Bin?”
“Uh…I…food?”
You laugh—that damn laugh. “Of course food, silly. I meant what kind of food.”
“I’m…not…sure?” Each word sounds blank and uncertain.
“Okay well I’ll order first and then you can figure it out.” You briefly let go of his hand to step fully up to the counter to order. “Hi, can I get a beef bulgogi wrap and an iced latte?”
“Anything else?”
You turn back to Changbin who hasn’t moved. “Binnie?”
His eyes slowly track your voice, landing on you. “Oh!” He scrambles forward almost tripping on air. “Uh, can I uh, have…a…chaejap—I mean, uh, japchae.”
You bust out laughing as he stumbles over his words which only makes it worse.
“Anything to drink?” The very patient employee asks.
“Yes.”
The employee stares at him.
“Bin, you have to tell her what you want to drink.” You say between laughs.
“Oh! Sorry. Uh, can I have an americano…uh, iced…with coffee…”
The poor girl just nods and punches the order into her tablet, “Will that be all?”
You finally gain some composure, “Yes, thank you for dealing with that.”
She gives a small smile and the total. Changbin quickly reaches for his wallet, almost dropping it in the process. He goes to give her his card and accidentally gives her his driver license. “Oh wait! Sorry,” he yelps, fumbling through his wallet for his actual card. After a painfully long process, your food is paid for and you go to sit down. Changbin lets out a sigh as he settles into his chair. His relief doesn’t last for long because he misses the chair and falls straight onto the floor. You’ve completely lost it. You double over with laughter as he scrambles back into his chair. You’re shaking with laughter, tears forming in your eyes. Changbin sinks into his chair trying to hide the very obvious blush on his face.
It takes a minute for you to regain your composure, but once you finally do, a girl brings your food and drinks to your table. “Enjoy!” She smiles.
“Thank you.” Changbin gives a small nod. “You too.” He freezes. The kind employee just smiles and walks off.
You’ve stopped laughing but the smile is so wide on your face it almost hurts. “Real smooth.” You tease.
He just looks over at you, not even bothering to hide how red his face is.
“What is up with you today, Bin? You’re off your game.”
“I…you...it’s just…” His words get stuck with embarrassment, unsure how to tell you that the simple act of you existing makes his brain go haywire.
“I what?” You raise an eyebrow.
He lets out a sigh, placing his head in his hands, “I can’t think straight when you…”
“When I what?”
“When you are…you.”
“When I’m me? I hate to tell you, but I don’t think I can be anyone else.”
He groans, “I don’t want you to be anyone else. That’s the issue.”
You are getting confused, “So you don’t want me to be me but you don’t want me to be anyone else?”
“No!” He throws his head back, trying to get his brain to have even the slightest bit of functionality. “You’re the issue. No! I mean, you’re not the issue. Your laugh is, but it’s not a bad thing, but it’s just the way you are it makes me not-“ You place your hand on his, causing his rambling to stop.
“Binnie, look at me.” Your voice is softer now. He shyly makes eye contact, “Take a breath and go slow.”
He takes a deep breath in. This time your touch is grounding, providing just enough focus that he can make a sentence, “You’re just so amazing that it makes it hard for me to think.” His voice is small now, “Your hands around my waist. Your smile and that laugh, god that laugh. It’s just so…beautiful and intoxicating and the only thing that I want to focus on; so all my ability to function is just…gone.” He looks away, his entire body filling with heat. “It’s dumb and cheesy, I know.“
Your eyes soften at his confession. His shy look and tiny, genuine voice makes your chest tight. You lean forward and turn his face to look at you, “Look at me. It’s not dumb, it’s sweet. It’s completely and utterly adorable.”
“It’s completely and utterly embarrassing.”
“Hmm, I don’t think so. I think it just shows how big of a heart you have.”
He huffs.
“Plus, it’s funny.”
“Ugh!” He throws his head back, hands covering his face.
You giggle at this big man baby. You get up to stand behind him so that he is looking up at you. Gently removing his hands from his face, you lean down and press an upside down kiss on his lips. All his features soften, eyes full of affection, “You’re mean, you know that?”
You giggle, “Why am I mean?”
“You know what I mean. Would you like to see me fall backwards in this chair?” He narrows his eyes angrily, but there is no trace of anger in his voice.
You lean down to give another quick kiss, “Hmm, maybe. It would be pretty funny.”
He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance, but you can see the smile creeping on his face. “I’m glad my misery brings you joy.”
“The only misery you’re going to have is hunger if you don’t gain enough composure to eat, ya big baby.” You move to sit back down, setting up both of your meals. “Hurry up and eat before I make you fall out of your chair again.”
“Trust me, it’ll happen again.” He stuffs food in his mouth as your laughter fills the café once again.
Hyunjin:
You sit in Hyunjin’s art studio while scrolling Instagram on your phone; your hair up in a messy bun, in sweats and one of his old t-shirts. You’ve only been dating for a few months, but his place already feels like a second home. Hyunjin is sitting in front of his canvas, back turned to you. You’ve been sitting in the quiet for a while now. Nothing but the sound of…his paintbrush? You realize that it’s been quiet for far too long. No sketching or painting. No rearranging supplies or moving around to get “the proper lighting.” Hyunjin usually hums a small tune when he’s really focused or makes little sounds when he has an idea, doesn’t like something, or really likes something. Sometimes he’ll even ask for your opinion on things. Today, not a word or a sound. You look up from your phone to see what he’s been working on and you are surprised to see nothing. He is just sitting, staring at a blank canvas, paintbrush in one hand, palette in the other. He’s sitting straight up, not moving an inch. For a second you wonder if he’s even breathing.
“Hyun?” You keep your voice barely above a whisper.
He flinches as if he was woken from a stupor, “hmm?” He doesn’t turn around or do anything.
“What’re you working on?”
“A painting.” His voice sounds shy.
“Mhm, I see that. Why is the canvas blank? You’ve been sitting there for 20 minutes.”
“Just—waiting for inspiration I guess.” He lets out an awkward laugh.
You hum in response, his answer making sense. You go to stand behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders, rubbing them gently. “Can I help at all? Would you like some tea or coffee?”
He releases a bit of tension he didn’t realize he was holding, but still doesn’t move. “Uh, tea might be good.”
“Okay, I’ll go start the kettle.” You place a gentle kiss on the top of his head and leave for the kitchen.
As soon as the door closes behind you, Hyunjin sighs, slumping in his chair. He sets his brush and palette down, his hands moving to cover his face. As soon as you stood behind him, he was sure he was about to explode. He only hopes you didn’t see how red his ears were. He huffs, running a hand through his hair, staring at the blank canvas like it personally offended him. “Why does she have to be so beautiful?” He whispers to the canvas, “I mean I see her all the time, but wow, something about today,” his words trail off in a dreamy sigh, the canvas already forgotten. His mind is running back over the sight of you, sitting in the dim light of his studio, bare faced, hair messy, wearing his shirt with his cologne. It’s all so soft, so beautiful, so…real. When you asked to join him in the studio, he wasn’t prepared for you to look so good. He loves the way you feel comfortable enough to show him this side of you, the no makeup, messy hair side of you. He loves the way you want to be with him, even if it means sitting in the same room while he does something. You fit perfectly on his couch, in his studio…in his life and that just undoes something in his heart. His mind went blank the moment you stepped in the room. So, he’s been staring at a blank canvas, not waiting for inspiration, but thinking about his whole world, you. When you snapped him out of his daze, of course his entire body went red with embarrassment. What was he supposed to say? ‘The canvas is blank because I’m absolutely lost in dream land thinking about how amazing and beautiful and perfect you are’? As much of a romantic as he is, he never wants to be too cheesy or overwhelming with it. The last thing he wants to do is make you uncomfortable by saying too much too fast.
The door creaks back open, his head snapping over to you.
“Here’s your tea. I put some honey and lemon in just like you like it.” You hand him the warm cup with an even warmer smile.
His heart melts at you remembering how he likes his tea. He gently takes the cup, his eyes never leaving yours. You sit there gazing at each other in comfortable silence. After a moment, you speak up, “You should drink it before it gets cold.”
“Drink what?” He sighs dreamily, totally lost in your eyes.
“Your tea? That you’re holding?” You giggle.
His eyes widen, realizing he’s been staring for way too long. “Right, the tea. In my hands. Currently. That you made. For me.”
You laugh as the words tumble out of his mouth. He takes a sip trying to hide the red spreading across his cheeks.
“Did you find any inspiration?”
“Huh?” He sets his tea on the desk next to him.
“You said you were waiting for inspiration. Did you find any?” You step closer so that you are standing between his knees. Your hands move up to play with his hair.
He leans into your soft touch, letting out a soft sigh. “You.” The word slips out, breathy, as if on accident. It was so soft, you almost didn’t catch it, almost.
“Huh?”
Hyunjin freezes under your touch, his eyes going wide with realization. “I-I mean you saying that reminded me of something, that uh…that Chan—yeah—Chan said which was uh….” He quickly stutters, trying to cover his tracks, clearly making it up as he goes.
You gently tilt his face to look at you, “Hyun, what are you doing?” Your voice is soft, not accusatory, but genuinely curious.
“What? What do you mean ‘what am I doing?’ I-I’m...”
“Why are you trying to change your answer?” You thumb gentle, soothing strokes on his cheek.
“I-it’s…I’m not-“ He stops, letting out a defeated sigh. His gaze moves to the side, heat running up the back of his neck, “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Your heart softens at his small voice. He sounds almost scared. “Uncomfortable? Why would you make me uncomfortable?”
“We haven’t been dating for that long and I just didn’t want to overwhelm you with all my feelings.” He tilts forward, his head resting against your torso. “I know that I feel a lot and I feel it really deeply and that can make people overwhelmed or uncomfortable. I have so many feelings about you that I can’t even think straight, but I’m scared that if I show them, you’ll...” His voice gets shaky, the words stuck on his lips.
“I’ll what?” You gently stroke his head.
“You’ll get scared and leave.” Hyunjin blinks back the tears forming in his eyes.
You feel your chest tighten at his confession. The raw honesty in his voice makes something in you unravel. You gently tilt his head back to look at you again, his eyes glassy as they meet yours. “Jinnie, listen. Your feelings are not overwhelming or too much. I love how deeply you feel about things. I love how you show that in everything you do; the way you dance, the way you sing, the way you paint, the way you take care of others. It’s beautiful and one of the many reasons I fell for you. You being honest about your feelings, about anything, doesn’t scare me. It only draws me closer.” You lean down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Never be afraid to share your feelings with me. Please.”
“Even if they are super cheesy and overly romantic?”
You let out a small laugh, “Even more so then. I like cheese. And believe it or not, I’m quite the romantic myself.”
He cocks an eyebrow, the mischief sneaking back in, “Is that a challenge?”
“Only if you want it to be, lover boy.”
He pulls you in by the waist, causing you to sit in his lap. He smashes his lips against yours, all his feelings and passion flowing into it. Your hands move up to play with his hair, intertwining with the long, silky locks. His hand moves to the back of your head, deepening the kiss. You breathe each other in, moving together, like art in motion. You only break apart for air. He rests his forehead on yours.
“Thank you.” He breathes out.
“For what?”
“For being you.” His voice is raw, honest. “For loving me, all of me. For being so beautiful and caring. For doing the simple things; sitting with me in the studio, making me tea, wearing my t-shirt.” You laugh at that. “Seriously, thank you for being here, in my life.”
You give a quick peck to his cheek, “Thanks for letting me in.”
He pulls you tight against him, burying his face into your neck. He sits there for a moment, soaking you in. You rub soothing circles on his back and feel his whole body relax into you. You both sit there, holding each other, taking each other in, your souls intertwining. Under the dim light of his studio, it all fades into the background as his heart and mind focus on one thing: you.
Han:
You are sitting on the couch in the dorm, Han in front of you on the floor. He’s racing Felix in Mario Cart. Their voices ring through the dorm as they yell at each other.
“Haha! I passed you.” Felix gloats as he takes first place.
“You better watch it cuz here I come.” Han shoots back.
It’s a neck and neck race. Both of them flail as if leaning entirely sideways will make them turn any better. As they cross the finish line, Han just barely beats Felix in first place. Han jumps up and shouts, “Victory!” He runs a lap around the dorm, bowing to a fake crowd, taking fake flowers like he just won the olympics. Felix sits with his head in his hands, defeated. Han loops back in front of you, “Did you see that? Did you see me beat him?” His hands brace on your shoulders, slightly shaking you like a little kid.
You giggle, “I did see.” You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, gentle and lingering. “Good job, baby.”
Han immediately goes quiet, red spreading across his face. He stands frozen, staring at you.
“I want a rematch!” Felix calls behind him. Han doesn’t move, the plea falling on deaf ears.
“Han,” You try snapping him out of his daze, “Baby?” You tap his forehead lightly, “Hello? Anyone home?”
He lets out a squeak of acknowledgement.
“Felix is asking for a rematch.”
“Yeah, sure.” He breathes out.
Felix resets the game, waiting for Han to sit down and ready his controller. Han does not move an inch, hands still on your shoulders, eyes not moving an inch.
“Baby, you have to turn around to play the game.” You move his hands off your shoulders, his arms limp in your grasp. You turn him around, everything following but his head. He continues to stare at you. You laugh at his frozen stare, “You need to look at the screen too.” You gently turn his head around to face the TV.
He finally gains a sliver of composure and readies his car. Felix presses play and the speaker counts, “3, 2, 1, GO!” Felix takes off in his car, but Han runs straight into a wall. He tries to turn but ends up glitching into the wall. The game resets him, but it doesn’t take long before he hits another wall. The entire round he is hitting every obstacle and wall. His flailing from earlier is replaced by complete stillness that you didn’t think was possible from him. Felix crosses the finish line and Han is no where near behind him.
Felix groans, “Han.exe has stopped working.” Rather than waiting for him to finish, Felix exits the round. Han sits unbothered.
You laugh at your frozen boyfriend, “Why don’t you let me play a round?” You grab the controller out of his hand, waiting for him to switch spots with you. Of course, he doesn’t move. So you decide if he won’t move, you’ll just use him as your seat. As soon as you sit in his lap, he snaps awake. His hands naturally land on your waist, his eyes looking at you as if he doesn’t know how you got there.
“Wha-“
“Look who finally rebooted.” Felix jokes.
“Welcome back. I’m gonna play a round. That okay?” You ask, knowing full well he doesn’t care.
He nods, mouth slightly open, still confused as to what just happened. As Felix presses start, you lean back into Han, “Ready to watch me win?”
He sets his chin on your shoulder, finally gaining composure, “Crush him.”
You race Felix, Han moving you like you are on a rollercoaster. As you pass Felix, you let out an evil laugh and Han gives him a thumbs down. This time the race wasn’t as close. You win in first place, Felix coming in third. You spin around in Han’s lap, hands shooting up in the air, “Woohoo!”
“You won!” Han’s hands also shoot up.
You lean in and give him another, rougher kiss. Bad idea. He immediately freezes again, hands still in the air. You groan, “Oh no, he crashed again.” You shake his face, “Hannie? Wake up!”
He doesn’t budge.
Felix rolls his eyes, “Just leave him. Who knows how long it will take for him to come to.”
You laugh at your boyfriend’s cuteness. “Let me know when you’ve restarted, ‘kay?” You turn back around to look at Felix. “Want a rematch?”
“I’m gonna beat you.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
As the two of you set off on another race, Han continues to sit frozen in time. It takes a while but he eventually reboots and you decide it might be best to avoid kisses the rest of the day.
Felix:
Felix rarely has days off, but luckily the company gave them a few days off after coming back from their tour. Felix hasn’t seen you in person in a few weeks, so as soon as he gets back he goes over to your place.
You are sitting on your couch when you hear a soft knock on your door. Knowing exactly who it is, you practically run to answer. You only get the door half open before he bursts in and engulfs you in a hug. You stumble back as he crashes into you, your arms wrapping tightly around him. He buries his face in your neck, a long sigh escaping him. He is practically melting in your arms, all of the tension and exhaustion draining out of him. You stand there in each other’s arms for who knows how long; breathing each other in, making up for weeks of separation. He loves going on tour and you love supporting him, but you would both be lying if you said it didn’t sting a little to be apart for so long. After a while you reluctantly pull back just enough to look him in the eyes. Your heart cracks a little at the residual fatigue etched on his face. The bags under his eyes hang heavy, his shoulders carry the weight of a world tour. You lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, gentle and refreshing. He immediately deepens the kiss, pulling you closer by the waist. You didn’t realize how much you missed this until now. You press yourself closer until he eventually picks you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he moves over towards your couch. He plops down on the couch, landing you in his lap, his mouth never leaving yours. Your hands are tangled up in his hair while his hands rub soothing circles on your hips. It isn’t until you can’t get enough air through your nose that you finally break apart, but you don’t move very far. You rest your forehead on his, a breathless laugh escaping you, “Welcome home.”
He pecks a quick kiss to your lips, “It’s good to be back.”
You spend the rest of the night holding each other, eventually moving to cuddle in your bed. You fall asleep wrapped up together under the comforter, limbs entangled, warm and calm.
—
The morning sun peaks through the cracks in the curtains, giving your room a light golden tint. Felix rubs his eyes, having slept so well he almost forgets where he is. Then he feels the warmth pressed against his chest. He lets out a soft sigh, his heart warm at the sight of you snuggled up in blankets next to him. He checks the time on his phone and groans in jet lag. While 7am is not a bad time to wake up nor an unfamiliar time for him to wake up, he was hoping to sleep in today. Seems like time zones and jet lag have a different plan. He slips out of the bed, doing his best not to wake you up. Successfully making it to the bathroom without disturbing you, he does his typical morning routine.
When he steps out of the bathroom, he peaks at you again. You are still a lump of blankets sleeping soundly. Felix can’t help the soft smile that forms on his lips at the sight of you. He decides to be a good boyfriend and make you breakfast. He pads over to the kitchen to open your refrigerator and sighs at the lack of ingredients. Of course you wouldn’t have anything for breakfast. So he takes a little trip to the nearest convenience store, buying enough for a simple but nutritious breakfast. When he gets back, he is careful to not make too much noise. Every movement is slow and careful. He tiptoes through the kitchen, gently taking out plates and cooking utensils. He clicks on the stove, cracking in a few eggs, and even though he doesn’t like it, he attempts to make you some coffee. As he moves around the kitchen with ease, lost in his actions, he doesn’t hear you walk into the kitchen. He jumps as he feels your arms wrap around him from behind.
“Morning love, did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet.” He turns in your hold and his heart stops at the sight of you. Bare faced, messy hair, wearing his oversized shirt. Your eyes are half lidded with morning grogginess. Felix swallows hard, feeling the air stuck in his lungs, taken aback by how beautiful you look. He knows you would laugh and tell him you look horrible. Maybe it’s just because he hasn’t seen you in weeks, but he doesn’t think he has ever loved you more than he does right now.
“No, you didn’t wake me.” You press your face into his chest, voice raspy from having just woke up.
“Oh, that’s good.” Felix’s voice comes out higher pitched than he meant it to. You don’t seem to notice though.
“Thanks for making breakfast, but uh, where did you get the food from? I don’t think I had any eggs.”
“I, uh, went to the store.” He struggles to make a sentence as all his attention is focused on the warmth of you pressed against him.
You just hum in response, your face still pressed into his chest. His hands settle at your hips, swaying slightly with you. It’s all so domestic and that breaks something in Felix’s brain. You look up at him to say something, but he cuts you off with a kiss. It’s messy and rough, catching you off guard. But you quickly gain your composure and kiss him back. He moves to kiss you on the cheek, the nose, your forehead. You giggle as he peppers you with kisses. “Well good morning to you too.”
He mumbles against your skin what you think is a good morning. It’s hard to tell with the muffled accent. Suddenly, you’re being lifted off the ground. You let out a tiny squeak, unprepared for the movement. Felix picks you up and sets you on the counter, stepping between your knees. You aren’t sure what’s gotten in to him, but you aren’t exactly complaining. Even if you wanted to, he wasn’t giving you the chance. He immediately moves to kiss you again. One hand rests on your lower back, the other on your cheek. You place your hands behind his neck, deepening the kiss, if that’s even possible. The world fades into the background. In this moment it is just you two. No kitchen, no work, no responsibilities. Just you and him, breathing each other in, sharing your entire soul with each other. You could stay here forever. Then you smell something burning. You try to pull back, but Felix follows you to close the gap.
“Um, baby.” You mumble against his lips.
He just hums, his lips not leaving yours.
You pull back, which just prompts him to pepper kisses on your face and neck, “The eggs?”
“What about the eggs?” He mumbles against your skin.
“I think they are burning.”
Felix finally stops, his head whipping over to look at the eggs. His eyes go wide at the sight of his eggs, brown and smoking. He scrambles over to turn off the stove and hurriedly dumps the eggs in some water. You sit on the counter, a teasing smirk on your face, “Someone got a little distracted, huh?”
You can tell, even with his back turned to you, that Felix is red head to toe with embarrassment. “Maybe if you didn’t look so good I wouldn’t get distracted.” His soft tone contrasts his accusation.
“Good? Baby, I just woke up. My hair is a mess and I’m still in my pajamas.” You gesture to your messy appearance.
“Exactly. You look beautiful.” Your chest tightens at his words. He says it so nonchalantly, as if it’s just an everyday fact. “You aren’t put together for work or dressed to go out with friends. While you still look beautiful then, this side of you is…different.” His voice goes softer, the eggs drowning, forgotten in the sink. He stands between your knees again, his hands rubbing mindless patterns on your thighs. “It’s a part of you that only I get to see. No mask up for the world, no presentation for anyone to see. Just you, real and natural. And this version of you makes my mind go blank. I just want to breathe it in for as long as I can.”
“I don’t know that you did much breathing.” You tease. His face goes pink, suddenly shy about his actions. You lean in to press a quick kiss to his nose, “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For being the sweetest boyfriend ever. For loving me, all of me. For spending your days off with me instead of sleeping like you should.” Your voice goes small on the last part.
Felix’s eyes soften, “I can’t imagine spending my time anywhere else. A day with you is more restful than any nap or nights sleep could be.”
This time you’re the one blushing. You pull him close, burying your face in his neck. He holds you close and gentle, like you’re the most precious thing he owns. “I love you.” You mumble into his neck.
“I love you too.” He sighs, melting into your hold. Suddenly, he jerks back, eyes wide. “The coffee!” He whips around to the coffee maker. He quickly turns it off, but it’s already too late. The coffee is burnt.
You double over laughing. Felix groans, as he dumps the burnt coffee in the sink with the eggs. You hop down from the counter to hug your defeated boyfriend. “Maybe we should order breakfast instead.”
“I’m sorry. I wanted to be a good boyfriend and make you breakfast. Instead, I got distracted and burnt everything.”
“So I’m a distraction now?” You cock an eyebrow at him.
He smirks at you, “A very good one.”
“Hmm, then maybe I can distract you a little bit more.” You lean in, him following. But right when his lips are about to meet yours, you fake him out and tickle him instead. He gasps, feeling betrayed. You laugh maniacally, running down the hallway.
“Oh you’re gonna get it.” He takes off after you, a determined smile on his face.
The rest of your day is filled with laughter and love, the poor eggs and coffee long forgotten in your sink.
Seungmin:
Seungmin looks at his watch as he stands by the front door, his foot tapping restlessly on the hardwood. You guys have been dating for about a year but only recently went public with your relationship. Tonight is the first official event you will come to as his girlfriend. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous. He has planned for every possible scenario: paparazzi, other idols, fans, and more. He knows deep down it will be fine, but he can’t help feeling he missed something. He checks his watch again, only a minute having passed.
“If you tap your foot any faster, it’ll fall off.”
He looks up to see you standing in the hallway, all dressed and ready to go. You are wearing a long black dress that hugs your frame just right. There is a slit that goes up to your knee, revealing your new black strapped heels. It has a halter neckline with strap detail in the back. Your hair is in a half up half down style falling perfectly over your shoulders, strands framing your face. You decided to keep your makeup and jewelry simple. You did a basic smokey eye with neutral lipstick. You picked silver jewelry and a small black hand purse.
Seungmin’s previous restlessness is gone, replaced with pure awe. He stands frozen, eyes locked on you, his mouth slightly agape.
“What do you think?” You give a little spin. He doesn’t move or say anything. He just blinks slowly. You step forward, his eyes following every move, “Hello? Earth to Seungmin?”
His hands hover over your hips, unsure if he is allowed to touch something so precious. His analytical gaze takes in every feature, every curve of you. He lightly places his hands on your hips, treating you with reverence. He has always thought you were beautiful, makeup and dress or not, but this moment is something entirely different. Something so precious, he feels like he is intruding on his own moment. To him, you look like a goddess, glowing with beauty and grace. Every movement, every breath is something he wants to bask in forever. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, how he wants to forget about the event and just stare at you forever, but his breath gets stuck in his throat. The only thing he can manage is a breathless, “Wow.”
You smile at the rare sight of him flustered and that just about kills Seungmin. Your beautiful smile that reaches your eyes, that smile you save for him. His grip slightly tightens on your hips, in fear he might collapse if he lets go.
You move to adjust his slightly crooked tie, a teasing glint in your eyes, “That bad, huh?” He grabs your hand, almost unconsciously, and places a soft kiss to your palm. He moves to place one on your knuckles, then slowly peppers kisses up your arm. Each one is soft and gentle against your skin, as if he is savoring every ounce of you. You giggle at his affection, “Kim Seungmin, what has gotten into you?” Instead of answering you, he continues trailing kisses up your neck and across your jaw. “You better not mess up my makeup.” You tease, but your voice is noticeably lighter, more breathless.
The more he kisses you, the more teasing he gets. He dusts kisses on your cheeks and nose before placing a kiss on the corners of your mouth, but never fully touching your lips. When he feels your grip slightly tighten on his collar, he pulls back to look into your eyes, his face inches from yours. An instinctive pout forms on your lips, an almost inaudible whimper escaping your lips.
Seungmin has his signature smirk on, “What? You told me not to mess up your makeup.”
You playfully hit his chest, “You started it.”
You move to step back but he pulls you flush against him, his arm wrapping around your waist, “So let me finish it.” He whispers, closing the gap between you. His lips finally lock with yours, less gentle than before. Your lips move against each other in tandem, the kiss getting deeper with each passing moment. He can feel your lipstick transferring to him, but couldn’t care less. Instead, he pushes deeper, likely messing it up more. Your hands slide up the back of his neck to intertwine with his hair, eliciting a slight groan from him. You smile against his lips, knowing the hold you have on him. He knows it too and wouldn’t have it any other way. You pull back to lean your forehead on his, both of you out of breath.
You let out a small laugh, “What is up with you today?”
“You’re so gorgeous, I just can’t seem to think straight.” The raw honesty in his voice makes your chest tighten. Seungmin is not one to give unnecessary compliments. For him to so honestly tell you that, he must really mean it.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” Despite your teasing words, you have the most genuine smile across your lips.
You both sit there, neither one of you wanting to break this intimate moment. Suddenly, Seungmin’s phone starts buzzing. He doesn’t move to answer it.
“You should probably answer that.”
“Don’t wanna.”
You laugh, “Don’t care.”
He rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone to see a bunch of texts from the boys.
Chan: Are you coming?
Chan: You’re gonna be late.
Minho: Han is here before you, that’s a bad sign.
Han: Hey! I’m not normally late.
Hyunjin: Uh…yeah you are
Felix: You can’t talk much. You run late all the time
Chan: Seungmin??? Hello?
Jeongin: Is Y/N coming? It’s not like her to be late. Did something happen?
Minho: They got distracted 😏
Felix: Not in front of my maknae 😭
Hyunjin : I.N. cover your ears!
Chan: Seriously, Seungmin. You better get a move on or I’m gonna have to send out a search party
Changbin: I’ve got SWAT on speed dial ready to go.
The chat continues to blow up with questions and shenanigans. Seungmin just rolls his eyes and puts it on mute.
“We should get going.” You try to step back but he doesn’t loosen his hold.
“What if we just stayed here?”
“Chan would kill you.”
“Who cares about that old man?”
You glare at him, “Don’t give him any more grey hairs than he needs. Plus it’s not like you to be late.”
“It’s not my fault you distracted me.”
You cock an eyebrow at him, “Is that what I am? A distraction?”
He smirks, placing another quick kiss to your lips, “I like getting distracted.”
He goes to kiss you again, but you block him with your hand. “Okay lover boy, we need to go.”
“We don’t need to.”
“Yes, we do. Because you already announced that I would be with you and I don’t want people thinking I’m some she-devil that makes you late or keeps you from events.”
He rolls his eyes, knowing you’re right. “Fine, I guess we can go for a little bit.” He finally loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t remove his arm from around your waist.
As you drive over, you go to fix your lipstick that he mostly removed.
“I wouldn’t fix that.” Seungmin says.
You side eye him, “And why is that?”
“Because I’ll just mess it up again.” He smirks, eyes never leaving the road.
“Kim Seungmin! You better behave yourself tonight.”
“I can’t promise anything.”
You feel your cheeks heat up at his blatant flirting. The rest of the night goes a lot like that. His hand constantly around your waist or holding yours. Him continually whispering flirty comments that make it look like you are wearing more blush than you are. He doesn’t kiss you quite as much, but if you look close enough, it’s obvious that you both have the same lip color, despite you having makeup on. The entire night, Seungmin forgets about networking or holding conversations. Instead his entire attention is tunnel visioned onto one thing: you.
Jeongin:
You and Jeongin have been dating for a few months and things are starting to settle into a rhythm. You’ll visit him at work, usually bringing coffee. He makes sure you have a date, bare minimum once a week. You often spend time together curled up on one of your couches watching some random movie together. Usually you end up at his dorm, but today you decided to spend time at your apartment. He had been over a few times, but hasn’t spent long periods of time there. As Jeongin sits in his car in the parking lot, he gets a text from you.
Y/N: Rough day at work. Running late. Spare key is under the plant if you want to let yourself in.
He clicks his phone shut, deciding it’s probably better to be in an apartment than a car. Don’t want someone to accidentally walk by and see him. He pulls his hat lower and makes his way up to your apartment. Under your dying house plant, a small key sits right where you said it would. The metal feels cold from the early winter air and suddenly the key feels very heavy, Jeongin realizing the weight of this moment. He is entering your apartment, with his own key, while you are not home. This isn’t some neutral hangout spot, this is your home and you feel comfortable enough to let him in without you there. Jeongin swallows back the heavy feeling as he unlocks the door. Stepping in, it’s quieter than usual. Most of the lights are off except a small lamp you always leave on. He slips off his shoes and pads around your house, the familiar space suddenly feeling totally different. His footsteps echo off the hard floor into your empty apartment. His phone buzzes again, causing him to jump a little.
Y/N: Would mind starting a pot of coffee? I could really use some after the day I just had. The machine is in the kitchen, coffee grounds next to it. Should be fairly self-explanatory. Thanks love 😘
Jeongin immediately walks into the kitchen to make you a pot of coffee as if it’s life or death. You have clearly had a bad day and he was going to do anything he could to make it better. He carefully measures out the coffee grounds and water, hitting the start button on the machine when the soft sound of keys jingling is heard.
“I’m back!” He hears you call from the front door. Jeongin peaks around the corner, his signature dimpled smile spreads as soon as he sees you. “Oh good, you found the key.” You slip off your shoes and walk over to him. As you get closer, the smell of coffee hits you, “Mmmm, you started coffee. Thank you so much.” You practically melt as you throw your arms around him. “You’re the best.” Your words are muffled against his chest.
“No problem.” He kisses the top of your head, causing a fraction of the tension to release in your shoulders.
You pull back to look up at him, “I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but do you care if I take a quick shower? I just feel so heavy and want to be warm and cozy.”
His thumb moves to rub gently over your cheek. He can see the exhaustion hanging off of you, “Of course you can. I’ll be waiting out here. Take your time.”
You give him a quick thank you kiss and run off to the bathroom to shower and change really quick. Jeongin moves to settle on your couch.
You speed shower and wash your face. You throw on some clothes, one of which happens to be his hoodie and go back out to the living room. “Sorry that took me so long, but it feels nice to be free.” You smile, stretching your arms upwards attempting to release some of the tension. You turn to Jeongin on the couch to see him staring at you, frozen. “Innie?” You step forward, but only his eyes move, following you. “Love, are you okay?”
Jeongin sits there, frozen. It all hits him at once, how domestic this all feels. Him entering by himself, making you coffee, waiting for you to get home from work. And now seeing you fresh showered and bare-faced wearing one of his hoodies. “I…I—you…” He stammers.
“Are you good? Did you have a stroke or something?” You squint your eyes, confused.
He gestures vaguely to you, trying to make a comprehensive sentence, but random words and syllables just keep coming out.
“Jeongin, breathe.” You take a deep breath, him following suit. “There you go. What are you wanting to say?”
He points to your face and stammers, “Pretty.”
…
You break out into a fit of laughter. Jeongin’s lips quirk up ever so slightly into a smile at the sound of your laugh. He tries to speak again, “Your face.”
You look at him, trying to talk through laughs. “I know what you meant. It was just a funny way of saying it.”
A small pout sits on his lips, making him infinitely cuter than usual. You lean forward to place a quick kiss on it. “Thank you, but I don’t know why you think I’m pretty right. I’m in baggy clothes, have messy hair and no makeup.
“So?”
“So, I look weird right now. I’m not dressed up for anything.”
Jeongin’s brain finally starts booting up again. The sight of walking into the room looking so comfortable made him realize how in love he is with you. He wants to see that everyday. He wants to wake up next to you and share his space and life with you. “I think you look perfect.” He forms a full sentence, this time flustering you.
“Shut up,” You mumble lightly hitting his chest.
“Never,” He pulls you in to kiss you, his lips soft against yours. He can taste the faint scent of your face wash lingering on your lips. Your hands clutch the front of his shirt tighter, leaning further into him. His kiss is soft and reverent, as if he is trying to tell you with every breath, every movement, that he thinks you are truly beautiful. He pulls back and leans his forehead on yours, “I like this look on you.”
You huff a laugh, “The one that looks like I just woke up?”
“Especially that one because it’s domestic, it’s real. It’s just you. Thank you for sharing the big and the small with me. I’ll cherish it for forever.” He pecks a small kiss on your nose, “I love you.”
You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks but you couldn’t care less. You lean your head to rest in the crook of his neck, nuzzling closer, as his embrace melts aways all of the stress from the day, “I love you too.”
take a look at my girlfriend — shes the only one I got!
or: times different skz members got hit on, and they proudly showed you off as their partner.
wc:4k (500 ish each)
warnings: none! ot8(separate) x reader, fluff, crack, nonidol!au
a/n: a little treat for hitting 2k hehe ૮(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)ა
chan — 'she even loves the music that my band makes'
The couch at the studio has a permanent dent in the cushions from where you always slouched. You didn’t plan on becoming a fixture there — it just happened. His late nights turned into your late nights, his takeout orders became your takeout orders, and when you fell asleep for the first time waiting for him to finish editing, the studio stopped feeling like his workplace and started feeling like yours too.
At first, it was just weekend visits. dropping off lunch, then lingering a while till he finished up. Then the weeknights where you’d wait past midnight, because going home alone felt lonely and wrong when he was still working.
2racha—changbin and jisung— stopped asking why you were there (han occasionally slept on the other side of the couch anyway). Even the security guard waved you through without checking your badge.
Tonight was no different. You were curled under his hoodie, half watching some reality show on your laptop while Chan tweaked a vocal track for the third hour straight.
an intern had arrived an hour ago, all bright laughter and eager questions. You didn’t mind at first, Chan was patient with newbies, always explaining things twice if needed. But then her chair inched closer to his. Then she started getting touchy when it wasn't necessary.
Chan didn’t even look her way, just leaned back in his chair, occasionally putting space between them. You watched from the couch, the laptop screen long forgotten.
Then she asked the question, voice pitched too high, “So, are you single, or…?”
You held your breath without meaning to. chan’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. Then he turned his head, just enough to catch your eye over his shoulder, and the corner of his mouth twitched, jerking his thumb to your direction, “I’m married, actually,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The intern’s face froze. Her gaze darted to you, then back to Chan, like she was trying to reconcile the idea of him belonging to someone with the fact that you were just… there. Quiet, half buried in his hoodie.
Chan didn’t wait for her to recover. He tapped his wedding band against the edge of his laptop and nodded toward the door. “that's a wrap for today, you should head out. It’s late.”
minho — 'you got me trippin' in finesse'
you've learned to read Minho's body like a second language, he's a dancer after all. You know his tells before he even speaks.
the way his shoulders relax when he’s finally nailed a routine, the quick tap of his fingers against his thigh when he’s impatient, the slight tilt of his head when he’s watching someone else move. It’s all punctuation in a conversation you’ve been having for months without saying a word.
You met at a studio mixer last summer, back when you were still just the barback for the afterparty, refilling drinks and dodging sweaty elbows. He’d been the one to notice you first, initiating a conversation with you over the counter.
Later, when the music switched to something slow and sultry, he’d pulled you onto the dance floor without asking, and you hadn’t protested.
Minho isn’t the type to flaunt things, though. He keeps his private life private, and you respect that, just a quiet understanding that some things don’t need an audience.
right now, you’re leaning against the doorway of studio 3, watching him run through a new routine with the team. Sweat glinting at his temples as he mirrors the others. You’ve seen this drill a hundred times, but it never gets old.
The music cuts abruptly mid step, and Minho’s gaze snaps toward the sound system — only to land on you instead. his expression turns into a soft smile, and you grin right back at him, raising your water bottle in a silent greeting.
One of the newer dancers, a woman with her hair tied in a tight topknot, follows his line of sight and raises an eyebrow.
Topknot leans into his space as he adjusts the music, her elbow brushing his arm. “You always this serious during practice?” she asks, he doesn’t look up from the playlist, just shrugs one shoulder.
Undeterred, she adds, “Bet you’re fun outside the studio, though. You ever take anyone out after hours?”
Minho’s fingers pause over the soundboard for half a second before he taps the play button again, letting the music swell back to life. He doesn’t answer her, just steps away to reset his position in the center of the room.
But topknot doesn't get a hint, it seems. She sidles closer, her voice dropping. “Come on, do you have a girlfriend or something?” She flicks her eyes toward you, still leaning in the doorway, and adds, “Or are you playing hard to get?”
You take a slow sip of your water. He’s never been one to entertain this kind of thing — not because he’s rude, but because he doesn’t see the point in feeding into games.
Still, you can tell the moment he decides to shut it down. He turns his head just enough to catch your eye, and the corner of his mouth twitches.
“nah,” he says, loud enough for the room to hear. “I already have someone.”
Topknot blinks, then laughs, like she thinks he’s joking. “Yeah? Where are they, then?”
Minho doesn’t hesitate. He lifts his chin toward you, and the smirk he’s been holding back finally breaks through. “Right there.”
changbin — 'guy.exe: 6 5'6 feet tall and super strong'
a matte black dumbbell rolled from Changbin’s grip and thudded against the rubber gym floor. He’d been at it for two hours— shoulders, back, arms, a relentless workout that left his top sticking to his skin in abstract patches of sweat. You watched from the bench near the water cooler, half hidden behind your phone, pretending to scroll while stealing glances at the way his muscles flexed under the lights.
Three years together, and the sight of him still made your pulse skip.
The gym was mostly empty, mid afternoon lull, just a few die hards and the staff wiping down machines. You’d come straight from work, still in your office slacks, your hair barely holding onto its ponytail. Changbin had texted earlier with a come keep me company and a winking emoji. who were you to turn down an excuse to watch your boyfriend work out?
A woman, early twenties, in one of those matching pink gym sets, hovered near Changbin’s bench while he adjusted the weight rack. You caught the tail end of her question, something about his deadlift form, but then she made her move. "Damn tho, you’re built like a god. Single?"
Changbin snorted, wiping his forearm across his forehead.. "Do I look single?" he said, shaking his head like the idea was ridiculous. Then, without hesitation, he tilted his chin toward you standing a few feet away, there, and grinned. "That’s my girl."
The woman followed his gaze, blinking at you like she’d only just noticed the water cooler, the benches, the entire half of the gym you occupied. You raised your hand in a half wave. "Sorry," he added, not sounding sorry at all.
You expected her to leave, but she just smirked, propping a hand on her waist. "Lucky girl," she said, loud enough for you to hear. then, to Changbin "You ever wanna trade up, you know where to find me." yikes.
Changbin’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyebrows did a little jump, He shot you a look—girl you seein' this?—before shrugging. "Nah," he said, casual as anything. "I’m good." He moved towards you and planted a kiss on your cheek, "Better than good."
hyunjin — 'hopelessly devoted to you'
You and Hyunjin had been neighbors in that crumbling apartment complex where the pipes groaned louder than the tenants, and your first real conversation happened because he'd left his studio door ajar.
The scent of paint had pulled you in like a lure, and there he was, sleeves rolled up, forearms smeared with charcoal, halfway through painting something that looked like a storm given human form. and you were mesmerized.
By the time you started dating, you'd learned to love the mess of him — the way his hair stuck up in every direction after hours of working, the paint streaks on his jeans, the fact that he'd forget to eat unless you nudged a takeout container into his line of sight. He balanced his chaotic creativity with a quiet steadiness that surprised you.
his art thrived on bold strokes and screaming colors, his love language was more subtle, warming your cold fingers between his palms, humming off key to your favorite songs while he cooked food for you, tracing the curve of your shoulder blade when he thought you were asleep.
The gallery showing was his first major one. You'd watched him prepare for weeks. frames piling up near the door, muttered debates about lighting choices at 3 am. When the invitations finally arrived, he'd handed yours over, "You don't have to come," he'd said, but you knew he wanted you to be there.
You'd kissed the worry from his forehead and tucked the invitation into your wallet, where it stayed until the corners softened from handling.
Now, standing near a table with a champagne flute you hadn't touched, you watched him work the room. Hyunjin moved through the crowd like water, slipping effortlessly between conversations without ever seeming anchored to any one group.
His laugh carried over the murmur of guests, and you felt that familiar warmth curl behind your ribs. This was his element, even if he'd never admit it. The way people leaned in when he spoke, how their eyes flicked toward his hands when he gestured — he commanded attention without trying, and you loved him most like this, alive with his passion.
The girl approaching him now had been circling for a while. You'd noticed her earlier, lingering near his largest piece, her head tilted in a way that suggested admiration.
When she touched Hyunjin's elbow, you saw him startle slightly before turning with that polite smile he reserved for strangers.
You couldn't hear them over the gallery's din, but her body language was clear. fingers tucking hair behind her ear, the slight lean forward. Hyunjin nodded along, hands stuffed in his pockets, already scanning the room for an exit.
You didn’t move, not yet anyway, because part of you wanted to see how he’d handle it.
That’s when he saw you. His eyes flicked over her shoulder, and something in his face shifted, relief.
You stood from the table, weaving through the crowd, the girl hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy tilting her chin up at him, one hand now resting on her collarbone.
“...really think we should discuss your technique, over some coffee?” she was saying as you slid into place beside him, close enough that your hip brushed his.
Hyunjin exhaled, barely audible, as you laced your fingers through his. His palm was warm, slightly damp from nerves, and you squeezed once, “Oh, he’d love that,” you said, sweetly. The girl blinked, her smile freezing as you added, “I’ll come too, I’m his girlfriend.”
“Yeah,” he said, and you could hear the grin in his voice before you even looked towards him. “she's my muse.”
jisung — 'everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet'
"Jisung." You poked his shoulder with your socked foot from where you were sprawled across the couch. "I will perish."
He didn’t look up from his phone, thumb scrolling lazily. "Dramatic."
"No, listen—" You rolled onto your stomach, pressing your cheek against the cushions. "My stomach is eating itself."
This time, he glanced over, one eyebrow raised. "You just ate two hours ago."
"Snacks aren’t food," you said gravely.
Jisung sighed, tossing his phone onto the coffee table with a soft clatter. "Fine," he said, dragging the word out like it physically pained him. "But if I'm going out in the middle of the night, you're eating the weird gummy worms I pick out."
You grinned, kicking your legs against the couch cushions. "Deal."
The convenience store felt both too bright and eerily empty at 1 AM. Jisung grabbed a basket, tossing in the usual suspects, chips, chocolate, those inexplicably neon gummy worms, and went over to the counter to pay when the cashier leaned over the counter. "You again," she said, grinning. "Third time this week."
Jisung blinked, setting the basket on the counter "Uh, yeah."
she picked up the contents, scanning each one as she went on. "I mean, you could be here for the snacks or whatever ," she said, waving a hand, "or you could admit you keep showing up for the ambiance." Her grin widened. "And by ambiance, I mean me."
jisungs mouth gaped, "Oh no, no, I'm—Married. Very, extremely married." then he pulled out his wallet, flipping it to the clear plastic sleeve where a polaroid of both of you rested. one where you were kissing his cheek and he had a big, wide grin on his face, then pulled out his card to pay.
she blinked, her grin faltering for half a second before she leaned back, shrugging with exaggerated nonchalances as she took the card from his hand "Damn," she said, clicking her tongue. "Figures the cute ones are always taken."
The apartment was dark when he got back, you were still in your spot on the couch, waiting impatiently for him. "Finally"
Jisung let the door slam shut behind him, you barely had time to process the dramatic thud before he was crossing the room in three long strides, arms outstretched, the plastic bag dangling from one hand.
He crashed into you with the force of a man who’d just survived a warzone, his face buried in the crook of your neck before you could even ask what was wrong. “I got hit on,” he mumbled into your skin, voice muffled.
You blinked, arms frozen mid-air around him, the crinkling snack bag pressed awkwardly between your ribs. “...By who?”
“The cashier,” he hissed, His cheeks were still flushed, the tips of his ears pink like he’d sprinted home instead of walked. “you’re coming with me next time. No. More. Solo. Snack. Runs.”
felix — 'the perfect pair'
the first time Felix walked into the community kitchen, he nearly dropped an entire tray of freshly chopped carrots.
You'd been there six months already — long enough to know that the dented metal tray was older than both of you combined, and that the carrots were destined for a stew that would feed sixty. You lunged without thinking, catching the edge just as it tipped, fingertips brushing against his.
"Thanks," he said, his sleeves were already rolled up past his elbows, "I swear I'm usually better at carrying things."
Felix still drops things sometimes, never the carrots again, but last month it was a spoonful of cinnamon that poofed into a cloud across the counter. You laughed so hard your ribs ached, and he grinned like he'd meant to do it, like every little accident was just an excuse to hear you laugh.
Now, twelve months deep into this rhythm — Saturday mornings at the kitchen, Sunday afternoons tangled in his double bed, it's your little routine now.
This morning, he's leaning against the fridge, peeling labels off donated jam jars while humming off key. "Mrs. eom asked if we're doing the pumpkin soup again," he says, glancing at you. "Told her we'd have to check with the boss." He winks. You're not the boss. There is no boss. But this is Felix's favorite joke, his way of stitching you into the center of his stories, even when you're just scrubbing pans in the corner.
this new volunteer has been hovering around him all morning. You recognize the tilt of her head, she keeps finding reasons to step into his space, keeps finding reasons to strike up conversations, and he's too kind to turn her down on the get go.
she might've mistaked his kindness for something else though.
He's handing her a knife to chop chilis when she "accidentally" grazes his wrist. "You're always so patient with everyone," she says, he replies with a simple "thank you", polite as ever, but you could tell he was uncomfortable.
You don't move. Because Felix is already walking over to your station, he bumps his forehead lightly against your temple "Rescue me," he murmurs into your hair, and you can feel her stare burning holes in your back.
"Tell her yourself," you whisper, amused. you're already reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. Felix exhales, relieved, before turning back to her with that easy smile.
"Oh! Almost forgot," he says brightly "This is my favorite person. The reason I never miss a Saturday."
And just like that, the room tilts back into place, Felix glowing like always, you beside him, and the quiet understanding that some things, like this kitchen, like his hand in yours, aren't up for grabs.
seungmin — 'I'd risk it all for you '
stadium lights blazed down, bright enough as if the sun was still up, turning the sweat on Seungmin’s skin into glitter. He wiped his forearm across his brow, smearing a streak of infield dirt in the process, and grinned at the roar of the crowd still thrumming through the stands. The mic in his hand was warm from being passed around, and the interviewer, was standing just a little too close. Her perfume was floral, aggressive.
"Kim Seungmin," she said, "Another incredible performance tonight. That last play — were you trying to give your fans a heart attack?"
Seungmin laughed, easy and practiced, the sound swallowed up by the noise around them. "Nah, just wanted to keep things interesting." He shrugged, adjusting the cap perched on his damp hair. The fabric of his jersey clung to his shoulders, heavy with sweat and adrenaline.
"Interesting is one word for it." She tilted her head, leaning in enough that the mic brushed his chest. "You’ve been on a hot streak this season. What’s driving you?"
Seungmin exhaled through his nose, a quick, amused breath. "Same thing as always," he said, gaze drifting past the interviewer's shoulder toward the stands. "Love of the game."
"That’s it? Just pure passion? No special someone in the stands tonight?"
Seungmin let the silence stretch just long enough for the tension to coil — then, he spoke again, "Actually," he said slowly, "yeah. My girlfriend’s here."
The interviewer blinked. The mic slipped a fraction in her grip.
The crowd erupted, a collective 'ohhh' rippling through the stands. Somewhere in the noise, someone wolf whistled. Seungmin didn’t react, just kept that easy, knowing smile, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.
"we've been together since college," he continued, voice carrying effortlessly over the din. The interviewer recovered quickly, professionalism snapping back into place, but her grip on the mic was tighter now.
“That’s sweet,” she said, and it wasn’t insincere, “Care to share more? The fans would love to hear.”
Seungmin’s gaze flicked back to where you were sitting — third baseline, five rows up, right where you always were, and his expression softened. “She hates when I talk about her in interviews,” he admitted, laughing under his breath. “But she’s the reason I don’t overthink pitches. And the reason I do stretch before games.”
The interviewer opened her mouth, probably to pivot back to safer baseball territory, but the cameraman beat her to it, swinging the lens abruptly toward the stands. The stadium screen flickered, then locked onto your face, blown up fifty feet tall for thirty thousand people to see.
Your lips parted in surprise, the nacho you’d been mid bite hovering forgotten in your hand. Seungmin’s chuckle echoed through the speakers, "There she is,"
A nearby fan elbowed you, grinning. "Girl, you’re famous now!" she stage whispered. Your cheeks burned, but you managed a small wave at the camera, awkward, The crowd ate it up, cooed like it was the cutest thing they’d ever seen.
On screen, Seungmin’s smile went crooked, like he was trying not to laugh at you. "See?" he told the interviewer, nodding toward the screen. "Told you she hates this." The mic caught the rasp in his voice, the one that only showed up when he was tired or fond. Tonight, it was both.
Jeongin — 'love struck girl, I'd tease her.'
"You would pick the one night we’re out of ice cream to confess you like me," Jeongin had said that night two years ago, his voice cracking halfway through the sentence. He’d been holding a half melted pint of strawberry between you like a peace offering, or maybe a shield.
The confession had been an accident, words slipping out during one of those aimless midnight drives where the radio played nothing but old love songs and static.
You’d blamed the music, blamed the summer heat, blamed the way he’d drummed his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the beat.
But Jeongin, ever meticulous, had pulled into the nearest convenience store parking lot, then returned with the ice cream as if that solved anything. but it only got that confession out of you that was begging to crawl out of your throat days prior.
Now, standing in the crowded glow of your friends apartment, you watch Jeongin from across the room. He’s holding a drink he hasn’t sipped yet, nodding as some woman you don’t recognize — a friend of a friend, probably — talks animatedly about something.
The way she gestures tells you it’s a story, not small talk. Jeongin’s always been a good listener, the kind who leans in just enough to make people feel heard, but tonight there’s a stiffness in his shoulders you recognize.
Hyunjin bumps your elbow with a fresh beer. "You’re staring," he sing songs under his breath.
You take the bottle without looking. "I’m observing."
"Same thing." He follows your gaze, then snorts. "Oh, her. She’s new. Felix invited her. Something about crypto startups? I tuned out after 'blockchain.'"
The woman— crypto girl —leans closer to Jeongin, her hand brushing his sleeve as she laughs. You don’t move. Jeongin’s fingers twitch against his glass, then still.
Then, clear across the room "So… are you single?"
Hyunjin chokes on his drink.
Jeongin blinks, caught off guard. For a second, he looks like he might laugh it off, might deflect like he used to when strangers flirted with him at bars back when you were just friends. But then his gaze flicks to you and his posture shifts.
"No," he says, quieter than usual. "I’m engaged."
Crypto girl’s eyebrows shoot up. "Really? I wouldn’t have guessed."
Before she can say more, you’re crossing the room, setting your beer down on the table beside Jeongin with a clink. "What wouldn’t you have guessed?" you ask, voice light.
Jeongin exhales, something close to relief. His fingers find yours without hesitation "That I’m taken," he says, squeezing your hand.
Crypto girl’s smile falters. "Ah. My bad." She retreats with a half hearted salute, already scanning the room for someone else to talk to.
Jeongin watches her go, then turns to you, sheepish. "Sorry."
"You’re apologizing for existing attractively now?" you tease, bumping his shoulder.
He rolls his eyes, but his thumb traces circles over your knuckles. "Shut up."
a/n: I hope at least one person gets all the lyrical references I made in this or I might just cry
،، genre ﹆ fluff includes ﹆yapper!bf x yapper!gf | hyunjin loves drama | fluff & wholesomeness | mentions of shitty people | established relationship | fluff with no plot at all ﹕ ﹒ ⌕
⊹ ⌁ ˖ a/n ﹆ i hope by now ive trained you all to fear when i release domestic fluff because it means i have horrors planned for my next fic | based off me and my bsf’s irl yap sessions she is going thru it (i got her permission for this dw)
𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎? ︵ 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐚’𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ▥ ▥ ▥
⭔ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⊹ ⌁ ⃕˖ when no one is more invested in your day than your boyfriend is.
it started out as a peaceful evening. hyunjin was sitting on the couch, awaiting your return so he could order takeout with you, when the doors to the apartment swung open.
“hyunjin.” you tossed your bags and coat into the shoe closet, stumbling as you tried to kick off your shoes while striding towards him.
“my muse.” hyunjin declared dramatically in the same fashion, a hand over his heart as if he were swearing his loyalty to you. you roll your eyes at his theatrics, despite being the one to start it, and collapse into his lap. “what’s the matter?”
as if lit by a spark, you shoot up, eyes full of a fiery intensity. “you’ll never believe what happened today.”
“try me,” hyunjin retorted, subtly tugging you back onto his lap again and hands tracing circles on your hips. too busy steeling yourself to breakdown the events of the day, you didn’t fight back.
“okay, so firstly, when i went to get my coffee this morning, there was a couple in line in front of me, right?” you confirmed, and hyunjin nodded along, regardless of the fact he wasn’t actually there. “get this. the girl was looking at the breakfast sandwiches they had on display, and the guy followed her gaze, before he told her he’s not buying it for her, because it has too many calories.”
hyunjin’s eyes widened, mouth falling open in an incredulous gasp. “no he didn’t.”
you nodded grimly. “oh yes he did.”
“for the record, i would buy you all the breakfast sandwiches you want,” hyunjin defended, scrunching his nose. you laughed, kissing him on the forehead before continuing the story.
“i know you would, babe. but so i had to do something, right? she looked so disappointed, so i very politely told the man that a breakfast sandwich wouldn’t kill her, unless she was allergic to eggs and sausage. you know what he said to me?” you looked at hyunjin expectantly.
“what?” hyunjin prodded, hanging off your every word.
you took a deep breath, eyebrows furling as if the very memory made you disgusted. “he looked me up and down, and said just because i didn’t take good care of myself, doesn’t mean i should force those values onto his girlfriend.”
hyunjin stood up, and you squeaked, tumbling off his lap. “alright, let’s go kill him. how dare he insult my beautiful muse? i’ll get STAY to find his address, doxx him, i don’t care. this is unforgivable, this is treason.”
“hyunjin, calm down,” you laughed, pulling on his sleeve. “i’m not done telling the story yet.”
sitting down with a huff and a pout, hyunjin said sincerely, “this story better end with you punching him in the face, or i’ll do it myself.”
giggling as you swung your legs over his lap, you shook your head. “even better. when she heard her boyfriend say that, the girl immediately looked pissed. girls supporting girls for real, because she walked over to the water station, filled up a cup, and dumped it over his head.”
“no.” hyunjin gasped, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
“yes!” you said excitedly, eyes sparkling in excitement. “he looked so shocked, he was like, frozen in place. the girl was spitting bars too, she told him off for insulting me, and how disgusting he was, and that he should look in a mirror for once, before dumping him right there.”
“and justice has been served,” hyunjin proclaimed. “someone get her an award for that.”
“actually, the cashier gave her a free breakfast sandwich on the house,” you grinned. “but there’s more! after i shook her hand and applauded her, i went to go shopping with my friend, and she told me she also broke up with her six-month boyfriend a week ago.”
“good. i never liked him,” hyunjin agreed, grimacing. “he was always talking about how muscular men are the perfect specimen and weirdly obsessed with trying to invite me to an escape room with him.”
“i never liked him either! but babe, guess what the reason they broke up was?” your eyes shone with anticipation, and hyunjin thought for a moment, before his jaw dropped.
“no.” hyunjin said in bewilderment, reading your mind.
“yes.” you were practically bouncing with the delight of telling him about what you had learned.
“no.” hyunjin repeated, practically gawking now. “oh my god. it’s all falling into place.”
“she caught him on a gay dating app,” you announced dramatically. hyunjin eyes shot impossibly wide, one hand covering his mouth in disbelief.
after a moment’s pause to let the information sink in, hyunjin grinned. “did he at least have any matches?”
“lots, actually. that’s how she caught him, because one of her friends matched with him on there,” you scrunched your nose. “but yeah, that’s the gist of it. i just thought you’d like to know.”
“i definitely did want to know,” hyunjin smiled. “is that all, or did your day have any more plot twists?”
thinking for a second, you shook your head with a smile tugging at your lips, cuddling up against his side. “thankfully, no. if there were, i think i would’ve combusted before i came home to tell you all about it.”
wrapping an arm around you to hold you closer to him, hyunjin teased, “do you want to order takeout? unlike that garbage man at the coffee shop, i’ll get you anything you want.”
your laugh was like a melody to him. “i could totally eat. you choose the place though, i’m not really particular for anything right now.”
“as my muse wishes. you can pick the movie we watch tonight, then,” hyunjin said softly, opening his phone and beginning the search. when moments ago it had been filled with aimless chatter, your home now fell quiet with nothing more than the sound of hyunjin humming and the remote clicking as you went through the watchlist you and hyunjin had saved, yet it didn’t feel any less full of love.
“thanks for always letting me go on about my day, love,” you smiled up at him, head resting against his shoulder as hyunjin scrolled through the takeout menu.
hyunjin smiled softly, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “my muse, i’m honored to be the one you want to gossip with. especially on days like today, because genuinely what was that?”
“right? like holy shit-”
a/n - need me a bf who lets me yap fr my ex could never
please do not translate or repost my works without credit to here or any other website! (this blog does not use ai and is an ai-free zone, so please do not feed anything here to ai, much appreciated!) ୧
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