♡ Hi!!! This is my first time posting any of my work on here!! Hope you guys like it!! ♡ ⋆𐙚 ̊.
It was one of those lazy evenings at the dorm, the kind where everyone just piled into the living room without a plan. The TV played some random movie in the background, but no one was really paying attention. Geonwoo and Sanghyeon were bickering about something small again, Leo was half-asleep on the armchair, and Anxin kept tossing popcorn at anyone who wasn’t reacting to his jokes.
You were tucked into the corner of the couch, right next to Junseo. His arm rested comfortably around your shoulders, your head leaning against him while you tried not to look too out of place. You’d hung out with the guys enough that it didn’t feel awkward, but still, being this close to your boyfriend with everyone around made you a little stiff.
Junseo noticed immediately. Of course he did.
“You good?” he murmured, leaning down slightly so only you could hear him.
You nodded quickly. “Yeah, of course.”
But your shoulders were tense, and he could tell. With a soft laugh, he tightened his arm around you and gave your side a light squeeze, like he was trying to melt the stiffness out of you. “Relax,” he said quietly, amusement lacing his tone.
Of course, that was the moment Anxin decided to pipe up.
“Hyung,” he said loudly from across the couch, grinning, “your girlfriend looks like she doesn’t even like you.”
The room erupted with laughter, Geonwoo letting out a dramatic “ooooh,” while Sangwon nearly choked on his drink. Junseo gave Anxin a look that could kill.
“Anxin,” he said calmly, “don’t make me bench you for the rest of the week.”
That shut him up… temporarily.
The noise eventually died down, and the movie filled the silence again. You leaned back into Junseo, finally feeling a little more comfortable, lulled by the sound of his breathing. Everything felt easy, until you felt him shift beside you.
You didn’t even have to look up to know what he was thinking.
“Junseo,” you warned under your breath.
“What?” he said, feigning innocence. His eyes, though, were locked on you with that lazy warmth that always made your heart skip. “Can’t a man show his girlfriend a little affection?”
You shot him a look. “Not here. I’m not kissing you in front of the members. Are you crazy?”
He paused, lips curving into a small, playful smile. “Did you really just deny your boyfriend a kiss?”
“Yes,” you said, trying to keep your voice firm, but your grin was giving you away.
The boys, of course, had no concept of personal space or boundaries. Every single one of them had gone suspiciously quiet, pretending to watch the movie while clearly eavesdropping. Sangwon had even lowered the volume a notch, the traitor.
Junseo chuckled under his breath. “They’re not even being subtle.”
But Junseo wasn’t backing down. His gaze softened, that kind of look that made your stomach flutter despite yourself. “You think I care about them?” he whispered, voice low enough that only you could hear.
Before you could respond, he leaned in anyway. The world seemed to pause for half a second, the laughter, the background noise, the movie, all fading into a hush.
You barely had time to whisper his name before he kissed you, gentle and sure, not even giving the boys’ existence a second thought.
Someone (Anxin) groaned dramatically. “Hyung, we’re literally right here.”
Junseo pulled back just slightly, eyes still on you, that tiny satisfied smile playing at his lips. “And I don't care,” he murmured, ignoring the chorus of teasing sounds from the couch.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help smiling too. “I hate you.”
He laughed softly, pulling you closer again. “You don't ,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.
And even as the boys continued their noisy commentary, you couldn’t deny….. he was right.
You were in front of the mirror, hair half-done, mascara wand in hand, trying to finish getting ready for a night out with your friends. Music played softly from your phone, and behind you, on the edge of the bed, sat Jiahao, arms crossed, legs sprawled out, watching you like a sulky cat.
“You’re really gonna leave me here?” he asked for maybe the fifth time that evening. His tone was dramatic enough to belong in a K-drama. “All alone. While you go out. To a club. Without me.”
You met his reflection in the mirror, lips twitching. “You make it sound like I’m abandoning you for a year.”
“You basically are,” he muttered, slumping even more. “Do you know how dangerous clubs are? What if some guy talks to you?”
You laughed softly, shaking your head as you reached for your lipstick. “I’ll survive, Hao.”
He frowned, watching as you carefully traced the red onto your lips. “Yeah, but will I survive?”
You ignored him, slipping into your dress and smoothing it out before turning around, and that’s when he froze.
His jaw dropped slightly, eyes widening in exaggerated disbelief. “Oh, absolutely not,” he said, standing up so fast you barely had time to react before he was in front of you. “You can’t go out looking like that without me.”
His hands found your waist almost automatically, fingertips pressing lightly against your skin through the fabric. He wasn’t angry, just flustered, playful, that mix of possessive and lovesick that was so him.
“Jiahao,” you warned, laughing. “It’s just a dress.”
“It’s the dress,” he said, still sulking. “How am I supposed to let you leave like this?”
You reached up, brushing a stray piece of hair from his forehead. “By trusting me?”
He pouted. “No. That’s too hard……Give me a kiss at least before you go.” He said mischievously.
You smiled sweetly… and turned your head at the last second. His lips landed on your cheek instead, and when you pulled back, he just stood there, frozen.
“Hello?” he said, blinking. “Did you just dodge me? Before going out without me?”
You bit back a laugh. “You’re gonna ruin my lipstick.”
He stared, half-offended, half-incredulous. “Who cares about your lipstick? Who do you wanna look pretty for, huh?”
You grinned mischievously. “My other hoes, obviously.”
For a solid three seconds, he just blinked at you, like his brain was buffering. “Excuse me?”
You couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore. “I’m joking oh my god” you said quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re the only one I want to look pretty for.”
He gave you that look, the one where he’s still pretending to be mad but his lips are already twitching. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled.
Leaning in, you pressed a small, quick kiss to his lips, careful not to smudge your lipstick too much. “Happy now?”
He sighed dramatically, pulling you closer anyway. “Not really….. but I guess you can go….”
As you slipped on your shoes, he watched from the doorframe, arms crossed but smiling now. “Text me when you get there,” he said, voice softer.
“I will,” you promised, waving.
And as you left, you heard him mutter just loud enough for you to catch "She's too pretty for her own good.”
You smiled to yourself. He was damn right.
Days off for Leo were rare. When he finally got one, there was only one thing he wanted to do: absolutely nothing, with you.
So there you were, both wrapped up under his blanket, sunlight spilling lazily through the curtains, a random movie humming in the background. You’d been in the same position for hours, Leo sprawled half on top of you, face buried in your chest, one arm slung tightly around your waist while the other rested loosely over your stomach. His leg was hooked over yours, keeping you trapped in the softest, warmest way possible.
Every now and then, you’d feel his slow, even breaths against your skin, and it made you smile. He’d fallen asleep like that clingy, comfortable, and peaceful. You could feel the weight of him pressing into you, grounding you, and your fingers had naturally found their way into his hair, lazily playing with the soft strands.
The room was quiet, until a sudden loud crash came from the TV, making you both jump slightly. Leo stirred, mumbling incoherently, lifting his head just enough to blink at you through half-lidded eyes. His hair was sticking up everywhere, his cheek red from where it had been pressed against you, and his lips parted in the tiniest pout.
You couldn’t help but giggle. “Leo, you look so cute right now.”
He frowned groggily, voice rough with sleep. “I’m not cute.”
You bit your lip, trying not to smile too wide. “But you are,” you whispered, cupping his face between your hands. “My cute baby.”
He squinted at you, cheeks faintly pink, but didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering as he nuzzled his face deeper into your palms like a sleepy cat. Your heart melted instantly.
“Oh my god,” you whispered dramatically. “I’m getting cuteness aggression.”
And before you could stop yourself, you started peppering kisses all over his face, his cheeks, his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his chin, every spot you could reach, giggling between each one. His skin was warm, soft under your lips, and you could feel him smiling faintly.
Until you stopped just short of his lips.
Leo blinked at you, dazed but clearly aware enough to notice. He tilted his head slightly, voice a little more awake now. “You missed a spot,” he murmured.
You grinned innocently. “Hm? No, I think I got them all.”
He narrowed his eyes, shifting his weight so he was hovering a little over you now, his messy hair falling into his face. “Don’t mess with me right now,” he mumbled, sounding way too serious for someone who’d been asleep five minutes ago.
You laughed softly. “You’re cute when you’re bossy.”
He huffed, leaning in for what he clearly thought would be a well-deserved kiss, but you turned your head at the last second. His lips brushed your cheek instead.
For a second, he just froze there, blinking in disbelief. Then he pulled back slightly, pouting like a child who’d been told no candy before dinner.
“…Did you just dodge me?” he said, voice flat with betrayal.
You bit back a laugh. “Maybe.”
He stared at you for a long moment, then dramatically flopped back down on top of you, muttering into your shoulder. “Hell nah.”
You were laughing too hard to respond.
He lifted his head again, giving you the most unimpressed expression possible. “You are not getting away with that.”
Before you could react, his hand slid up to your cheek, gently but firmly turning your face toward him, and then he kissed you, loud and sure, like he was stamping a claim.
When he pulled back, his lips curved into the faintest smug smile. “There we go.”
You stared at him, half laughing, half in disbelief. “Leo, it was just a joke.”
He held your gaze, suddenly quiet. “Never joke like that again.”
You blinked. The way he said it wasn’t demanding, just soft, honest, sleepy sincerity in his eyes. You smiled, reaching up to smooth his hair again. “Okay,” you said, voice gentler now. “I won’t.”
He sighed contently, settling back onto your chest. “Good,” he mumbled, already drifting back to sleep. “You’re stuck with me anyway.”
You chuckled, brushing your fingers through his messy hair again as the movie played on, the two of you wrapped up in the quiet, lazy kind of love that didn’t need anything else.
You’d been buried in textbooks all afternoon, highlighters scattered across your desk, coffee half-finished beside your notes. Finals were close, and you’d sworn to yourself that today would be productive, no distractions, no breaks, no nonsense.
Except, of course, your boyfriend didn’t believe in any of that.
When you heard your apartment door unlock and the soft creak of footsteps, you didn’t even have to look up. “Geonwoo, please tell me you didn’t just let yourself in again.”
“I missed you,” came his easy, unbothered reply. You turned just enough to see him drop onto your bed like he owned the place, sprawling out against your pillows. His tall frame practically swallowed half the mattress, one arm tucked behind his head, the other scrolling idly on his phone.
“You look really pretty with your glasses on,” he said after a moment, tone casual, but you could hear the smirk.
“Geonwoo, shut up. I’m studying.”
“You look even prettier when you’re mad at me.”
You sighed, trying to stay focused. This had been his routine all afternoon , throwing little comments your way, testing how long it would take before you broke. The worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing.
“Are you even comfortable watching me study for hours?” you asked finally, not looking up.
“I’d be more comfortable if you came over here,” he replied immediately.
He waited. Then, apparently deciding your silence was unacceptable, he got up. You heard the soft creak of your chair as he approached, and before you could protest, you felt him standing behind you, tall enough to make the air shift.
“Baby,” he murmured, leaning down so his voice brushed right against your ear. His hands rested on the desk, one on either side, boxing you in. “Don’t ignore me.”
You didn’t answer, eyes glued to your notebook, even though your heart was definitely not focusing on the definition you were trying to memorize.
“Babyyy,” he repeated, his tone softer, teasing. He leaned down even more, his chin hovering beside your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck. You could feel his smile.
You tried so hard to stay composed, but then you glanced at him, and that was your first mistake. His face was right there, just inches from yours.
He caught your gaze and, of course, leaned in, slowly, deliberately, eyes locked on you as if testing your willpower. His lips were close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath.
And right when he tilted forward to kiss you, you turned your head.
He froze mid-movement, lips brushing nothing but air.
“…Did you just—” He blinked, his expression shifting between disbelief and offense.
You looked up at him innocently. “Maybe.”
“Are you actually mad at me right now?” he asked, though his voice had softened, equal parts amused and confused.
Before you could respond, he shifted his hands to the armrests of your chair and spun you to face him. Suddenly, you were eye level with his chest, and when you looked up, he was towering over you, his eyes gleaming with mock seriousness.
“You’re annoying,” you said, crossing your arms.
“Okay, but you love me,” he replied instantly.
He laughed quietly, leaning closer. “Come on. Give me a kiss, and I’ll stop bothering you.”
You tilted your head, playing along. “If you let me study, then I will.”
Geonwoo arched an eyebrow, pretending to think. “So… a reward system?”
You rolled your eyes, trying to push his arm off your chair, but his hand stayed firm, not forceful, just steady, the way he always was. “Geonwoo.”
He grinned. “Fine,” he said finally, lowering his voice again. “But you’re not getting away with dodging me twice.”
And before you could protest, he leaned down and kissed you…., soft at first, testing, then just a little deeper, long enough that the sound of your heartbeat drowned out everything else.
When he finally pulled away, he was smiling, clearly satisfied. “There. Motivation,” he said simply.
You sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “You’re impossible.”
“Mm, maybe,” he said, already leaning in for another quick kiss before stepping back toward the bed. “But now you’ll study faster so you can come cuddle me.”
You turned back to your books, trying not to smile. And failed completely.
It was well past eleven when you checked the clock again. The company building was practically silent, every hallway dim except for the one practice room still lit, the one where Sangwon refused to stop moving.
He’d been at it since eight, replaying the same section of choreography over and over, the music echoing against the mirrored walls. You sat curled up on the couch in the corner, watching him push himself far past what any sane person would call “one last run-through.”
His shirt clung to him, his breath coming out in short, uneven bursts. But even exhausted, he still moved with that same precision, that same intensity that made you understand exactly why he’d been chosen as center.
When the song cut out again, you stood up, crossing the room with your water bottle in hand.
“Sangwon,” you called softly. “Baby, you can’t even breathe. Let’s call it a day, okay?”
He bent forward with his hands on his knees, sweat dripping down his temples. “Just… one more time,” he said between breaths.
You rolled your eyes, gently taking the bottle cap off and pressing it into his hand. “Wonie, you’ve done it a hundred times already. You can practice more tomorrow when you’ve actually slept.”
He looked at you then, tired, frustrated, and just a little lost. For a second, you saw the way his shoulders relaxed at your voice. You reached up, brushing his damp hair back and cupping his cheek. “Please,” you said softly. “Let’s go home.”
He hesitated, torn between his perfectionism and your pleading tone. Then, a small smile crept onto his face. “Fine,” he said, straightening up. “But give me a kiss first and we’ll go.”
“HELL NAH,” you said instantly, leaning back. “Sangwon, do you have any idea how sweaty you are?”
He blinked, pretending to be offended. “So you don’t love me when I’m sweaty?”
He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like you’d wounded him. “Take that back.”
You didn’t even have time to react before he closed the distance, both of his very sweaty hands cupping your face as he planted a loud, unapologetic kiss right on your lips.
You squealed, shoving at his chest. “You are disgusting, Sangwon.”
He only laughed, that smug little grin spreading across his face as he wiped his forehead with his arm. “I’m your disgusting boyfriend. Shut up.”
“You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Cute?” he echoed, tilting his head with mock innocence. “You mean irresistible.”
“Delusional,” you corrected, grabbing his dance bag off the floor.
He slung an arm around your shoulders anyway, ignoring your protests as he steered you toward the door, humming to himself.
“See?” he said as the hallway lights flickered above you. “Now we can leave. And you did give me a kiss.”
You shot him a look, but his grin was so bright, so stupidly satisfied, that you couldn’t even argue. You just sighed, bumping his shoulder lightly. “Next time you’re showering before you touch me, got it?”
“Sure,” he said cheerfully, which, knowing Sangwon, meant absolutely not.
The night was quiet when he showed up. You hadn’t expected him, he hadn’t even texted, but when you heard the knock on your door and saw his face on the other side, you didn’t hesitate for a second before letting him in.
He looked tired. The kind of tiredness that went deeper than just needing sleep. His hoodie hung loosely off his shoulders, his hair still slightly damp from showering at the company, and even though he smiled when you hugged him, there was a certain heaviness in it.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, cheek pressed against his chest. He was so much taller that he easily tucked your head under his chin, holding you there for a quiet moment. “Long day?” you murmured.
He hummed in response, a sound that was more sigh than word. “I missed you.”
You smiled, tilting your head up to look at him. “I can tell.”
You’d made a small dinner earlier, nothing fancy, just something warm to share. The two of you sat on the floor by the coffee table, your backs resting against the couch as you ate together. The TV was off, your only background noise was the low hum of the city outside.
You told him about your day, how your professors were evil incarnate, how the commute had been awful, how you’d ended up scrolling TikTok for two straight hours instead of doing homework. He listened quietly, eyes soft, a faint smile tugging at his lips as if just hearing you talk was enough to ease his exhaustion.
But you could feel his gaze lingering. The way his eyes flicked from your face to your lips and back again.
When you finally looked up at him, he didn’t even try to hide it.
“What?” you asked, feigning innocence.
“Nothing,” he said, voice low, still watching you. “Just thinking about how much I missed this.”
And before you could answer, he leaned in, slow, certain, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. He was clearly aiming for a kiss.
So naturally, you leaned away.
He froze mid-movement, blinking in surprise. “Okay… what was that?”
You looked at him like you didn’t know what he meant. “What was what?”
“Did you just dodge my kiss?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“I just didn’t wanna kiss you right now,” you said, trying not to laugh.
He stared at you, completely scandalized. “Do you—wait. Do you hate me?”
“Do you wanna break up with me?” he continued, already spiraling.
You bit your lip, trying to hold back a grin, and nodded just slightly, just to see his reaction.
Xinlong blinked once. Then he straightened up, crossed his arms, and said flatly, “Well, that sucks for you. Because we’re not breaking up.”
You finally burst out laughing, and his expression faltered into confusion. “Wait, what?”
“Relax!” you said, clutching your stomach as you laughed. “It’s a trend! I was just messing with you!”
He squinted at you, still half-suspicious, half-relieved. “A trend?”
You nodded, still giggling.
He shook his head slowly, muttering, “I hate you sometimes…” before leaning forward suddenly and catching your face in his hands. “Try dodging me again, I dare you.”
You squealed, trying to lean back again, but he was faster this time. His lips caught yours in a soft, lingering kiss, warm and just a little needy, the kind that said I missed you too much for this kind of teasing.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “You’re—,” he murmured, though the faint smile on his lips betrayed him.
“You love me,” you teased.
He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah,” he admitted softly.
You honestly didn’t know how you got here.
One minute you were chilling on the couch, and the next you were sitting cross-legged on the floor of your boyfriend’s room, clutching a controller and losing for the fifth time in a row.
“Wait, wait—stop hitting me, I’m still figuring out how to—”
“Boom,” Anxin said smugly, not even looking at the screen as his character obliterated yours. “You suck at this.”
You turned your head slowly. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t even blink. “I said you suck.”
You dropped the controller and gawked at him. “You invited me to play!”
He grinned, leaning back on his hands, completely unbothered. “Yeah, I didn’t say I’d go easy on you.”
You let out an exaggerated sigh, pouting as you crossed your arms. “You’re so mean.”
“Aw, don’t pout,” he said in a mock-sweet tone. “You still look cute when you lose.”
That earned him a light smack on the arm, which only made him laugh harder. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” you muttered.
“Of course I am,” he said, flashing that annoying, perfect smile. “Watching my girlfriend rage is my favorite hobby.”
You stared at him for a beat, ready to fight him or walk out, maybe both, when he suddenly leaned closer, his expression shifting. “Hey,” he said, voice softer now.
You blinked. “You just told me I suck at your stupid game.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, but you’re cute when you’re mad. I deserve a kiss for putting up with your terrible gameplay.”
You sat there “You deserve—? Anxin the fucking audacity you have”
Before he could finish laughing, you turned your head away dramatically. “Nope. No kiss. Not until you apologize.”
He tilted his head, grinning. “Apologize? For what?”
You gave him a side-eye sharp enough to cut glass. “For being a brat.”
He leaned in closer, his smirk widening. “But that’s like… my whole personality.”
You chuckled, trying to look serious. “Then no kiss for you.”
He blinked, processing that for a second, and then let out the most exaggerated groan. “You’re so unfair,” he whined, dramatically falling back onto the carpet. “This is abuse.”
You burst out laughing, and he turned his head to give you a playful glare. “Fine. I’m sorry,” he muttered.
“Sorry for what?” you asked, raising a brow.
“Sorry for…” He sighed. “For bullying you at video games. Even though it was funny.”
“Good boy,” you said smugly, and leaned forward as if to finally give him the kiss. He leaned up instantly, eyes closing—
His eyes shot open, pure betrayal written all over his face. “Did you just—?!”
You were already laughing so hard you nearly fell over. “That’s for saying I suck!”
He stared at you for a second before crawling closer, determination in his eyes. “You can’t just dodge me, I'm your boyfriend!? Are you insane?”
You tried to scoot back, still giggling, but he caught your wrist and pulled you toward him. “Anxin—”
“Too late.” He grinned and kissed you quickly, triumphant.
When he pulled back, you were still half-smiling, half-annoyed. “You’re an idiot.”
“Mm,” he hummed, smirk still in place. “And you’re terrible at games. We make a great team.”
You threw a pillow at him, but he just laughed, loud, bright, and so him.
You’d been stirring the pot on the stove for maybe two minutes before you heard the front door open and the familiar sound of sneakers hitting the floor.
“Baby?” his voice came from the hallway, soft but excited.
“In the kitchen!” you called back.
Seconds later, Sanghyeon appeared in the doorway, his hair a little messy, his hoodie slightly rumpled from practice. His tired eyes instantly softened when they landed on you.
“My girlfriend cooking for me?” he said, his grin spreading. “Is this heaven?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re so dramatic.”
“No, seriously,” he said, walking closer. “I must’ve saved a whole country in my past life or something. A pretty girl making me dinner? How lucky am I?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”
Before you could say anything else, you felt his arms snake around your waist from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder.
He sighed, that long, happy kind of sigh that made your heart melt. “I missed you,” he mumbled, pressing closer.
“Sanghyeon,” you said with a small laugh, “I can’t move if you hold me like that.”
“It’s okay,” he murmured, squeezing you a little tighter. “I can pass you what you need.”
You shook your head, smiling to yourself. He was always clingy, but sometimes he managed to outdo even himself. His warmth pressed against your back, and every few seconds, you could feel his gaze shift from the food to you, soft, admiring, hopelessly lovestruck.
“You’re so pretty,” he said quietly, almost to himself.
You chuckled, stirring the pot again. “You say that every day.”
“Because it’s true every day,” he said without missing a beat.
You felt your cheeks warm. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.
“Lucky?” he teased. “You mean blessed.”
Before you could respond, he turned his head slightly, his lips brushing the side of your jaw. You flinched back just a little.
“Hey! Stop, I’m concentrating,” you said, leaning away.
He froze. His hands slipped off your waist as he blinked in confusion.
You bit back a laugh, glancing over your shoulder. “I told you I’m busy.”
He looked devastated. “You’re denying me a kiss?” His voice went soft and wounded, his brows furrowing as he tilted his head like a kicked puppy.
You couldn’t help it, you laughed, turning to face him fully. His pout deepened. “Hey,” he said, stepping closer. “That’s mean. I worked so hard today.”
“Baby, you’ll live,” you teased.
“No, I won’t,” he said dramatically, holding his heart. “I’ll just… fade away from heartbreak.”
You burst out laughing, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Okay, okay. Let me finish cooking, and then you can have all the kisses you want, deal?”
His pout immediately vanished, replaced by a smile so wide it nearly split his face. “Promise?”
He nodded, satisfied, and then wrapped himself around you again from behind, careful not to get in the way this time. “Fine,” he said, voice muffled against your shoulder. “But I’m holding you until then.”
You sighed, amused. “You really are a handful you know that?”
“Mm,” he hummed, his tone happy and sleepy. “ You love me anyway.”
You felt your heart flutter as you stirred the food again, his steady breathing pressed against your back. “Yeah,” you whispered, smiling to yourself. “I do.”
Hope you guys liked it!!! Also I have no idea how tumblr works please someone give me a tutorial
