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i wAnt this, man 😭

⋅ ⎯ ✈︎ kim sunoo | s. how i imagine enhypen’s sunoo to text his partner ! | w. light cursing ! | g. texting !

n. i use the terms “자기 [jagi]” and “자기야 [jagiya]” which are almost the equivalents to the english, “babe,” “baby,” and “honey.”

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another night, another fic of hyunjin to cry for

DRUNKEN WITH A SENSE OF LOVE | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | romance / drunken confessions / fake dating au

synopsis | you and hyunjin got drunk at different times, and you two took care of each other similarly. 

word count | 7.1k+

warning | mentions of insecurity / brief allusion to sexual themes / alcohol and drunkenness  

note | i changed almost everything about this.

Hyunjin has gotten himself etched to the back of your mind, and you genuinely did not like that.

You didn't blame him, though. If anything, you blame yourself for falling so head over heels for him.

For one, Hyunjin couldn’t help who falls in love with him. He couldn’t suppress his overwhelmingly good looks if he tried, which he never did. He enjoyed the positive attention, however shallow they often were. He also couldn’t put a pause on his decent personality, which came as a genuine surprise to you after you got to know him better through this fake dating scheme. You always thought beautiful people harbored the ugliest heart, out of envy and bitterness. Hyunjin wasn’t like that. You didn’t think he was, at least. 

For two, you should have known better than to fall in love with a man leagues above your selection pool. People called it self-degradation, a lack of self-esteem, having no self-worth, and whatnot. You considered it a down-to-earth trait, a reality check, understanding your limits, and whatnot. Hyunjin was a boy you should fall in love with in moderation but never utterly, ardently, absolutely. You were, unfortunately, the latter. 

For three, and this was the stupidest part, you two were temporarily dating. Hyunjin was honest when he approached you and said that his friends, at the ripe age of twenties and pursuing higher education, thought you were good enough to be the butt of a romantic joke. They had challenged him to chase you, get you into a relationship, and break your heart. It was a heinous and, frankly, childish game, but you agreed to it with him for the prize money. 

It was worth it at that time. It was easy money! Who wouldn’t want that? You didn’t feel that way now. Pretending to be in a loving relationship with him has short-term perks but long-term losses. 

Hyunjin was practically in you, etched to the back of your mind, tattooed on the inside of your skin, taken by your bloodied hands to the bottom of your grave. The degree to which your heart dropped for him was unexplainable by yourself. Therefore, having the excuse to go on dates and hold his hands in public, snuggle with him during outings with his friends, and maintain a pleasant friendship with him behind closed doors were great experiences. But when the time comes for separation, you will hurt, not merely over the breakup, but the reminder that he has never felt more for you, that your wonderful experience with him was just an experience.

Clumsy stumbling could be heard outside his apartment, and not a second later came a round of demanding knocks. Hyunjin's head perked up at the noise, his eyes wide in alert at the sudden banging. He looked at the door momentarily before finally looking over to the clock, his brows furrowing slightly at the late time. He waited to check if it could be a drunken stranger approaching the wrong door, but soon enough, another round of aggressive knocks sounded.

Holding the thought that it could just be his roommate, Han Jisung, coming back home late for yet another odd reason, and also praying inwardly that he wouldn't have to spend the night taking care of a loud, obnoxious, and very drunk Jisung, he made his way up and approached the door.

Flinging the door open, Hyunjin did a double-take before his annoyed expression morphed into one of surprise. His arm went slack against the wooden frame of the door, and he took an instinctive step forward when he saw your drunken state—your features were scrunched up in discomfort, your eyes squinted because astigmatism had taken over on your walk to the apartment building, and you were hunched over. You were not at all the way you used to look, not the way he was used to seeing you, which was always so presentable and well put together.

An amused smile appeared on his face as he eyed you up and down, wanting nothing more than to make fun of and tease you even without your ability to form the perfect retorts he has grown to be highly fond of. But you sniffed for a moment and took a step forward. In that exact second, you had Hyunjin doubling over to catch you before you could fall to the floor, concern lining up the crinkles of his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Woah, alright! Let’s stand slowly, okay?" he commanded gently, cooing at your side as if talking to a child. 

His arms curled around your shoulder and waist with a protective grip, and he hoisted your weight by supporting you with his own. Pulling you into the apartment, he shut the door slowly with his feet before returning his attention to you, hoping to bring you to the couch where you could lie down and rest.

“Jeez, babe, how much did you drink?” he laughed, dragging your unresponsive body along with him.

You groaned lowly, trying your best to hold down the acidic taste rushing at the back of your mouth. You wouldn’t know it, but this was not what you had planned for the night. Your friends did their job sending you home safely. Who would have thought you’d leave your apartment shortly after just to stumble to Hyunjin’s home? It was a short distance from your place, but what a miracle you made it without any major accidents! And what a disaster you made it to his home while being high on alcoholic honesty!

You snapped your head up. You were at the perfect angle to stare at his side profile, allowing you the premium shot of his perfect jawline, luscious locks, beautiful lashes, button tip of his nose, and just the most kissable lips you have ever seen. A grimace reached your face. It was an instinctive response. His good looks indeed couldn’t hide even behind the blurriest of eyes. You thought if you lied to your body enough, your mind would follow, so you grimaced whenever you looked at him, hoping to start disliking him. It hasn’t worked. 

"Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “Yes. That is me."

You gulped, still staring at him. Then, as you lowered your eyes to the floor, you leisurely suggested what’s been on your mind recently, “We should break up."

Of all the things you have done within these few months of him meeting you, including you agreeing to help him lie to his friends about this fake dating challenge to punching someone in the face for shaming his impulsive sex life, which you weren’t surprised he has, this one caught him off guard the most. This one also made him panic. It was fear, like sweaty hands and dry lips, like his mind racing with terrible thoughts, racing with made-up reasons as to why you would want that, racing with every single action he has done that could be counted as a mistake.

"Wh–what? Why do you–why? Why are we breaking up? We are fine. I didn't do anything–did I do something?" Hyunjin stuttered, unconsciously tightening his grip on your body before he let out a gentle but firm whisper, "No."

“I know, I am sorry. I don’t know–I’m just sorry,” you slurred, long stopped looking at him and instead was now leaning your entire weight against him like a wall. Your hands waved about in the air. "You are mad at me, aren't you? Of course–“ you snorted obnoxiously–“it’s a lot of money! I’ll pay you. Break up with me, don’t be mad.”

Hyunjin stared at you as you laughed manically. It sounded choked up, like you’ve got wet coughs prepared in your throat, but he could tell you were far from shedding tears, unlike good ol’ sensitive him, who remained in a state of anxiety and was still trying to process why you brought up separation. It wasn’t time for the fake dating to end. It was nowhere near it! To suggest breaking up so early must mean something was wrong with him, but what was? He couldn’t tell! To think he was just losing his mind over what to do once it was time for this fake relationship to end. 

“Hyunjin,” you called him once when you noticed his silence. Looking up at him, you furrowed your brows and reached up to brush his face clumsily with your hand, pushing your fingertips against his skull. “Hyunjin? Hey. Answer me. Hey. Hello. Hyunjin!”

He leaned away from your aggressive touch, his shoulders relaxing at your playful antics. A smile formed uncontrollably on his lips when you doubled down on smearing your hands all over his face after his dodges. He was left haplessly struggling between missing your direct eyeball pokes and keeping you from falling to the ground. You grinned out loud; he mirrored it, and he didn’t hear the sound of your laughs mixing together because he hears it all the time.

“You are very drunk, [Name],” he managed to comment after grabbing both of your hands and keeping them at his face level. His tight-lipped smile sparkled when you attempted a struggle, like a parent reprimanding their child, then he moved your hands to your face and squeezed your cheeks together. Your lip jutted out in response. He leaned in to kiss your cupid’s bow. “You’re being silly. Let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed.”

The frown on your face made him nervous. His hands slowly slipped from your face, and your hands fell to your sides. You remained silent, and he let the clogs in your brain move. Your thoughts weren’t clear. The only thing you were sure of was that the man standing before you was Hwang Hyunjin, your temporary boyfriend, and you’d spent the whole night trying to drink your feelings for him away. You came to his apartment for a reason—you needed to break up with him for your own good.

“No, I can’t go to bed yet. I have something to do.” You yawned and waved an arm dismissively. You spoke before you finished yawning, leaving your words hanging in the air in slow motion. “I came to tell you something.”

Hyunjin’s hands curled into fists. He let go, tightened them, and let go again to alleviate the sweat gathering at his palms. You were surprisingly hell-bent on the topic, which led him to believe it went beyond a moment of drunkenness. It must have been a conclusion formed long ago, and you have just now mustered the courage to let him know. But why? What did he do? What did he not do? 

He was more than nervous, if there was a word to describe the state of his heart. This was more than a personal problem, which he admittedly still has to work through, but far more significant than himself was you—his feelings for you, his immense affection for you, the fact that he loved you the way you warned yourself not to love him but did anyway. It wasn’t your fault. Your observant eyes, your sincerity, your care for him. It wasn’t your fault. He fell in love with you of his own accord.

If you left him, he would be like a dog without a leash, a dog without an owner. He would wander aimlessly, filled with rage and dread, sniffing every darkened corner for a whiff of your scent. 

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked meekly. 

You sucked in a deep breath to counter your congested chest, then you shook your head in agreement. “Yes.” 

You were very drunk. He shouldn’t take your words into consideration. “That’s fine,” he said as he stepped toward you, “can we get cleaned up and go to bed anyway? It’s very late.”

“No, I don’t want you touching me anymore.” You stepped back dramatically and hugged yourself into a protective stance. “It’s for the better.” 

He wondered what that meant. Were you repulsed by him? Did you finally realize how disgusting his inability to stay away from sexual and romantic validation was? Were you ashamed to be associated with him because of his impulsive behavior? He was only good for a short time; did you come to that realization? You were too good for him. He always knew that.

Hyunjin retreated his hand from mid-air. His hands met before his abdomen, his fingers immediately picking at each other as he uncomfortably shifted his weight. The corner of his lips arched downward at your rejection, but he tried to keep them neutral so he wouldn’t be influenced into crying. There wasn’t much else he could do with himself if being near you was no longer an option. He looked lost and wronged; he felt so.

“[Name], did I do something?” he asked, rubbing his elbow awkwardly. “Why do you suddenly want to break up with me?”

You blinked at a random space on the wall. Sitting below your sight was a messy square table with unwashed cups, scattered papers, and a closed laptop. Even in a state of haze, you knew they didn’t belong to him. Hyunjin was more organized than that. He told you once it made his school experience much easier to have everything in one place: his computer, which you knew he often kept in his school bag. You sniffed; you knew him like the back of your hand. 

“I can’t tell you,” you replied slowly, not looking at him. “It’s a secret.” 

Hyunjin tilted his head. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” 

He sounded convincing, so you gradually moved your eyes to access him. Standing in front of you, timid as a mouse, was Hwang Hyunjin. You knew that, and you knew that your secret was to be kept from him. Yet, somehow, all that did not register once you were engaged in a conversation with him. He was Hyunjin, just a person you were talking to. If he promised not to tell, then it should be fine. 

“You promise?” you asked. 

Hyunjin nodded. “I promise.” 

You pouted with a glare, willing him to waver and show any sign of deception, but he stood his ground and waited for you to expose your deepest and darkest feelings to him. A faint grumble sounded from your mouth. You looked around briefly to check for any eavesdroppers before you walked a few tentative steps toward him, and you confessed, “I’m in love with you.” 

It was like a shot through the heart, and the shot was aimed so successfully that the organ tore off its hinges and fell to his abdomen where his hands fiddled nervously with each other. It may be asking for an exit out of his body, it may be seeking its new owner, or it may come knocking boldly at your mouth and ask to fit inside you. Hyunjin remained perplexed at your confession. The confession had a bitter taste; he wasn’t sure what to make of it or if he deserved it from someone like you. 

“[Name]…” 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I am very in love with you. It’s stupid.” 

He couldn’t tell, but you understood, despite a fogged mind, that letting him know your affection for him was a cause for your demise. Your emotions were in a whirlwind, collecting up the fragments of all the heart pieces you've broken because of Hyunjin and how you had confronted yourself multiple times with your own delusions that this wouldn't be like the movies. He would never fall in love with you just because you two got closer from months of fake dating.

Even then, he was empathetic to your body language, especially how much they mirrored his. His shoulders slumped at how you turned away from him to trail your attention off somewhere safer, where he wasn’t in your sight. Registering his beautiful face was hard for you because you couldn’t have him; processing his existence and your proximity to him was difficult because you could never have him. You turned away from him to further signify to yourself the assumed truth, your trembling fingers pulling at each other to avoid an awkward standstill. 

Hyunjin was etched to the back of your brain. He was overwhelming, and he was far away. Unable to contain the sudden reminder that you were never going to get over him, a rush of tears started to tremble their way up to your eyes. Your face scrunched without remorse, and your head dropped near your shoulders alarmingly quickly that it startled him.

“I love you, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. It made him panic. “Please break up with me.” 

“Why are we breaking up if you love me, silly?” he forced a laugh once he approached you. 

His lanky arms were clumsy and gentle after he pulled at his sweater sleeves to wipe your tears. They hovered awkwardly over your face, gauging how much strength to use to effectively dry your eyes but not push you any further away from him. He cooed a bunch of nonsense, but they were sweet like sleepy kisses on your hands. Eventually, he cupped your face and wiped your eyes with his thumbs. You let him; he made you laugh when he apologized for using too much force, even though he never did. 

“You don’t love me, Hyunjin,” you muttered. 

“Nonsense,” he retorted within a second, “who said that?”

You didn’t reply, so he stood with his arms raised for a whole minute while you leaned the weight of your head against his palms. He thought it terribly horrific that he ought to remember the shape of your face with his slender fingers because of his inability to sew his skin into yours. If his hands were like superglue, he could be attached to you forever—your face, your features, you, his most favorite thing in the world. His hands would burn, but what of it? Better you scorch him than to never be touched by you at all. 

“Hyunjin,” you called when you were finished zoning out.

“Mhm?” 

“I love you. I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m so ugly.” 

Growing up being valued for his beautiful features taught him to devalue it. He didn’t care for it. He wouldn't cry about it if he were to earn a permanent scar across his face. Yet, even then, if he were to have one, he was sure people would rave about how the scar ruined his face rather than talk about how he obtained it. Except for you. You’d ask about it, like you always asked everything about him. 

The kind of person you were, his most favorite person in the world—you were detailed like that, and you made him feel an essence of humanity others didn’t. With you, he wasn’t ethereal, he wasn’t a God, he wasn’t an angel fallen to Earth. He didn’t have to be because you never put him on some miraculous pedestal. He was just Hwang Hyunjin; his favorite food is his mother’s cooking, he makes clumsy mistakes and looks funny when he does, and he enjoys making art. 

Not a model, not God’s favorite, not pretty. Just a boy, and he’s in love with you.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m ugly too.” 

He didn’t deny your false claims; you were the prettiest he had ever known, but only he needed to know that. When there comes a time for him to praise and worship your physical body, he will. For now, there wasn’t anything much he wanted to say in return. Just that he was the same as you. 

Your souls didn’t collide that way, obviously. You two were completely different people with varying hobbies and friend groups. However, Hyunjin was willing to chase you like Hell to meet where you were. There wasn’t anything he wanted to be if he couldn’t be it with you. Whatever you are, he is.

There was another long pause. Hyunjin patiently waited, tender eyes concentrated on each crevice of your face as he stroked your stained cheeks with his thumb. You didn’t say anything more, only slapping your hands over his and pulling them from your face. He thought you were moving away, but you took a step forward instead and dove into his arms. You hugged him around his neck, hanging off him like a sloth. He chuckled, swaying you side to side. You were tired, he knew. 

“It’s getting late, baby,” he whispered, leaning back to watch your closed eyes and laughing. He ran a hand through your hair multiple times, getting a clearer view of your face. “Let’s clean up and go to bed, okay?”

You groaned and muttered in response. He didn’t hear what you said. He kept sweeping your hair back. Supporting you with his weight, you were heavy, but he didn’t mind. You wouldn’t be able to change your clothes by yourself, so he would help you. It’d be sloppy and slow, and he wouldn’t mind. You would take up most of the bed, sprawled out without a clue that you weren’t sleeping in your apartment. Your body heat would scratch up a fever in him, and he wouldn’t mind. He enjoyed taking care of you. 

Staring at him as he stroked your hair, you pouted before uttering three familiar words, “I love you.” 

Hyunjin smiled. Whatever you are, he is. He kissed your nose and your eyes. He told you he loves you too.

It was one of those nights when Hyunjin couldn’t spend time with you, and you were unreasonably disappointed about it.

You slouched atop the couch you got at a flea market, which Hyunjin had to convince you to get after repeatedly reassuring you that there wouldn’t be any actual fleas hiding in the creases. This uncomfortable position resulted from five hours of continuous mumbling about how you should not be upset that Hyunjin didn’t choose to spend the night with you, which he had done the past few weeks. He has been somewhat clingy lately, and you couldn’t imagine why. You thought your act was good. There was no way his friends doubted you. 

This could be the calm before the storm. Even though you two had concocted a detailed timeline for your fake dating, you wouldn’t be surprised if Hyunjin abruptly cut it short. If that was true, his current sweetness was nothing more than a buildup to a dramatic and convincing breakup. 

Pouting in dismay, you rolled up the bag of chips and reached for the tea table beside you, your fingertips wiggling to graze past the black binder clip you used to keep the plastic bag sealed. Amid your frustrated groaning, still refusing to get your ass off the couch even after more than ten seconds of struggling, the doorbell suddenly rang, and coming after that were loud bangs at your door.

A shiver ran down your spine as you snapped your head toward the direction of the noise, your brows rising abruptly at the fearful intrusion. Slowly throwing your chip bag on the table, you stood up and tip-toed your way over to the door where you pressed your hands to the wooden surface and carefully looked through the peephole.

A gasp caught in your throat when you saw Hyunjin’s face standing just a few inches away from the circle as if leaning against the door for support. You immediately moved out and unlocked your door, swinging it open to reveal him fully. Taking a good look at his face before he started to throw his little drunken tantrum—messy hair, concentrated brows, droopy eyelids, and a general look of discomfort—you concluded that he definitely has been downing more shots than he could handle.

“What happened to you?” 

You stepped up to put your hands on either side of his arm, carefully bringing him into your apartment. He stumbled with most of his weight straining on your shoulder. There were so many stutters in his steps that you almost dragged him into a fall with you on your way to the couch. After setting him down, he snorted at the cushy feeling of your couch. It took him a while to process the new environment, and then he arched his neck to find you. 

Hyunjin could barely make out your face. He couldn’t even be sure if he went to your apartment, but subconsciously, he could tell he was at your place. He felt it in your timid touches just now, and whatever scent he whiffed out of the air, it smelt like you. Licking his lower lip as his worries slowly faded away and his attention—as much as he could muster—returned, he mumbled a string of incoherent noises under his breath before he, much to your palpitating heart’s dismay, pulled you onto the couch next to him. 

He got on top of you; his legs had to bend in weird ways to accommodate the small couch, and he placed his palms on either side of your head to trap you under him. You felt heat forming on your cheeks as you shrunk beneath his shadow, your eyes widening at the proximity. Hyunjin has never done this before. The closeness wasn’t new, but the position of it was. Being under him was an unbelievable feeling. He looked beautiful, and his toned muscles became more visible by supporting his own weight. How your thoughts were smeared! You doubted your body would forget how well he could cage you in. 

Hyunjin stared at you with a low, drunken hum. Then, suddenly, he leaned down to meet your face. 

“[Name],” he started, lowering his head tiredly to your shoulder, “you wanted to break up with me?”

You blinked up at the ceiling, confused, but you figured it could be the alcohol talking for him, so you chose to disregard all the questions that popped into your head. Holding out your arms to push against his chest, you attempted to sit up. “I don’t want to break up with you, Hyunjin.”

He seemed to be processing your answer as he allowed you to set him aside and give yourself more space. You sat quietly next to him, letting him have the time to think over what he wanted to say. The thoughtful pout on his face told you it was difficult for him to use his brain, but it looked cute enough that you almost took a picture to tease him about it once he got sober. You wondered if his response would be nonsense as well.

“Why do you want to break up with me?” he whispered, causing you to sigh. He hasn’t heard you, after all. His lips were pursed into a frown, and his eyes were squinted to show that he was very close to leaking a few tears down his cheeks, but you couldn’t read between the lines and realize what his despair meant. Hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he abruptly turned to you and sniffed. “You can’t do that to me. I won’t–I won’t let you do that to me.” 

You tilted your head to the side, your brows constantly furrowed. Where was he getting this idea from? You tried to recall any off-handed comments you made. Still, they were primarily directed elsewhere and never at your fake relationship. You’ve never said anything bad about him, not to him, and never behind his back. There wasn’t anything outstandingly mean to say anyway, so what sprung this on? 

Returning to reality, your head faintly shook as you looked up at Hyunjin to ask his drunken state about the reason behind this outburst. Your eyes widened instead when you saw he had taken his shirt off, the lump of fabric discarded on the floor carelessly. Heat blossomed at the base of your neck, and you felt your joints sour in panic; seriously, what sprung this on! This was a much bigger issue than drunkenness! 

When you noticed his hands reaching to the belt of his jeans, you immediately lunged toward him and circled his wrists to stop his movements. Your panic became a surprised concern at his need to strip naked in your apartment. You doubted he wanted to show you his body. Even if he did, this wasn’t how you wanted to do it. 

Moving his hands away, you urged, “No. We’re not doing that.”

“No, I have to! I have to!” 

He snatched his hands away from yours and dove to unbuckle his belt again. His movements grew increasingly frustrated the more you blocked his attempt to remove his pants. You were annoying, but he wasn’t angry at you. He was scared. He wasn’t getting what he wanted, and he thought you might leave him if he didn’t show you what he could offer. It scared him that you didn’t want to see him whole, so eventually, he began to sob. 

“I have to show you, [Name]. Please let me!” Hyunjin whined, hands tugging harshly at each other by his chest.

“You don’t have to show me anything,” you assured as you grabbed a few tissues from the tea table. You dabbled softly at his eyes. “Come on, let’s put your clothes back on.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks like knives against your skin. He felt uncomfortable at this unfamiliar sequence. Things usually go smoothly after he reveals himself. Nobody has ever refused to see him, so why did you? What about himself was so repulsive that you couldn’t take one look at his bare skin? Why didn’t you love him back? 

“No.” he slurred, then paused to catch his breath. 

The moment of calm was gone too soon. His hands reached up to ruffle his hair in a frenzy. His heart hammering against his chest, yet his brain wasn’t sane enough to understand what the sudden panic was about, just that it had something to do with you. That obliviousness, as a result, was making him even more agitated.

“You need to love me again!” he exclaimed, eyes brimming with unknown tears. “People love me when I take my clothes off. You need to love me again!” 

A puff of air slowly made its way out of your half-parted lips. You could feel the stretching of your heartstrings. Hyunjin cried as he shrank into himself, his arms going around his cold body for a sense of comfort, and the sight toyed with your head by sending waves of deep anguish like mere laps of the ocean. The feeling deranged you—to realize Hyunjin experiences such a level of hopelessness and loneliness was heartbreaking. More importantly, you felt ignorant of his problems. You should have been a better friend, perhaps even a better lover.

“Hey,” you called out gently as you scooted toward him. You brought one hand up to his face to direct his eyes to you. You smiled softly when you found that he was opening his squinted eyes to stare back. “I’m going to get something, so wait here for me, okay?”

He sniffed, tasting the tears rolling down his mouth, and nodded. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, ever so gingerly placing a hand at the small of his back, hoping to calm him down, but it turned out Hyunjin had a thought of his own. After feeling the warmth of your hand, he took it as a sign that you wanted to hug him, so he obliged immediately by wrapping his arms around your torso and putting his head on your shoulder.

You breathed a small chuckle when he made weird noises after finding a space at the crook of your neck. The transition from him throwing a tantrum to having a mini panic attack to being the clingiest person you have ever met was amusing. As was the transition from your mind being filled with annoyance and confusion to having your feelings torn into shreds to breathing out a chuckle. It was entertaining, and the fact that Hyunjin could bring out so many different aspects of your emotions was undeniably endearing.

He was that kind of person. He has always been. More than beautiful, he was expressive, selfless, and tender-minded. Watching him allowed you to live an emotional life vicariously. All the things you ignored in the past because of mental stress were repainted in colors by his hands. The movie you never watched, the ice cream you never tried, the districts you never visited, and the fireworks show you never stayed for—everything meant something to Hyunjin, so everything meant something to you. 

To him, love was a grave of sacrifices. Of his time, his space, his body, and his mind. He was willing to give, and he has given you all except one. You wouldn’t know any of it. 

You moved to the back of the couch, cautiously pressing your back up against the edge. Hyunjin followed you, shifting his position so he lay stuffed against your chest with your arms around his shoulders. His fingers played with each other shyly on top of his bare chest as he looked around your apartment absentmindedly. He couldn’t register anything but the fabric of your clothes and how small you made him feel. 

He finally looked at you after a moment. His cries had long ceased and left only trails of dry tears on his dearest cheeks. With his eyelashes still wet, glittering beautifully in the air, he blinked, his eyes widening after he found out you had been looking down at him. Suddenly, he grinned childishly with a hint of sun hidden in his smile. “What are you looking at?”

You hummed, finding Hyunjin utterly irresistible even with his tear-stained cheeks and slurred laughter. He was all messy and puzzling, but your heart pushed against itself to give him space to stay inside. “I’m looking at you, silly.” 

“Oh, you’re looking at me.” He giggled, covering half his face with his hands and shutting his eyes shyly. He squirmed around in your arms, but not once did he move far enough to not feel you against him. When he was done, he returned back to the original position, and he peeked an eye through the gap between his fingers. He laughed. “ I am looking at you too.”

“I know you are,” you said, fingers threading through his feathery locks with serenity, and a smile so heartwarming that Hyunjin couldn’t help but focus his sight on it.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes shaky.

You pursed your lips together and shrugged. “I can’t tell you. It is a secret.”

Hyunjin’s gaze hardened naively, a gasp ripping through his throat as he leaned back against your hand. “Tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise!” he exclaimed, sitting up slightly and bumping his forehead against your chin. He burst into a fit of giggles then, rubbing his forehead for a while before reaching the same hand out to touch your chin sloppily. “I’m sorry, I hit your face.”

“It's okay,” you said, your thumb soothing against the spot he had bumped into you. “But you promise me you can keep a secret? It’s very important!”

He nodded eagerly. “I promise!”

“Okay,” you said as you looked up at the sky, pretending to think. “The reason why I am looking at you is really simple. It is because I love you.”

You glanced back down at him to find him looking at you in astonishment. He licked his lower lip. His mind cleared a little for the first time, and he felt all of the universe that was your body pressed close to him. Beyond that, there were more minor things. Your heart beat faster than his, making him chase after you like a madman; the warmth of your skin equated to the warmth he manually cultivated in his bed by stacking multiple blankets together, an attempt to replicate your presence at night; your soft voice, going through his blurry ears, sounded like the subconscious voice he hears all the time. Maybe his subconscious was all just you.

Those were all fragments of proof of how much he loved you. To think you returned his feelings—he didn’t know what to think. 

“Really?” He sounded so surprised. It was almost heartbreaking.

“Yes,” you nodded, “even when we both have clothes on.” 

He looked down and touched your shirt. “Oh, you are wearing a shirt.”

“Yes, I am.”

He gazed at it briefly before, with an invisible shrug, leaned his cheek against your chest. “You’re warm. I like it.”

You smiled, feeling like your lips were about to extend out of your cheeks to become wider. “You’re cold because you took your shirt off!”

He scoffed and said nothing. Hyunjin was unguarded and half-stripped before you, chastely snuggling up against your chest while slurred words spilled out of his mouth like a mantra. You didn’t try to understand him; he wasn’t looking to have a conversation. You just wanted to lay together without a thought or a worry. Occasionally, he would sit up just to look at your face, then hum and lay back down, continuing to rot. 

It was such a wondrous thing.

“Do you want to wash up and go to bed?” you asked. “Are you tired?” 

“No. I want to stay here. I like it here.” 

Hyunjin let out a dreamy sigh. He threw his head back with a smile, his hair hitting your jaw and sprawled over the crook of your neck. He tilted his head then, letting it fall along your shoulder. His eyes were closed with bliss, and he laughed to himself. When he opened his eyes, there was only the shadow of your side profile, which was good for him. He wanted to kiss the skin, filled with close-up bumps and blemishes. It was a side profile he’ll know for the rest of his life, and he’ll whisper ‘I love you’ to a million times. 

“I have a secret to tell you,” he mentioned.

You raised a brow, intrigued, and urged him to continue, “What is it?”

He bit his lower lip and scurried off your body. You sat up straighter then, watching as he stumbled over to the front door for the bag he discarded on the ground. He crouched to pull a small notebook out easily before returning to you. He stopped by the couch, his eyes concentrated as he stared at the notebook's cover. Then, without another word, he dropped back onto your body and made you wrap your arms around him like before. 

“I draw you all the time. In my sketchbook.” 

He grinned out loud in the same way you would grin at him. His fingers played with the blank pages before, finally, he arrived at one filled with traces of his pencil. You gasped. He wasn’t spilling nonsense. The page was filled with beautiful sketches of your face, and so was the next one and the next. He kept flipping his notebook, and everywhere you could find pieces of yourself dotted out sincerely by his hand. 

They didn’t look to come from memories, but they were definitely from moments not even you could remember. But Hyunjin remembered everything because he detailed it all in the lines. His inability to not consume all of you tied his hands together and made you his ultimate muse. Almost unconsciously, for a while, the only thing he knew to draw was you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t know how else to pour you out of his mind. 

It was overwhelming, and you could see that. He was showing you all his blood work: mornings spent missing you with the tip of a crooked pencil, afternoons spent recalling your features in his head, nights spent tracing your face with his lead-filled fingers under a desk lamp. If he could inhale these sketches of you into his bloodstream and poison himself with those images, leaving an organ tattoo of your presence, he would. 

“I love this one,” he said, pointing at a full-body sketch of you. “I was waiting for you at the coffee shop, and you were walking towards me. I love it. I was so excited to see you. I memorized what you wore.” 

This sketchbook stayed with him all the time; he felt like he was bringing you with him, like a kid refusing to let go of their blanket. You wouldn’t know anything about that. The beautiful boy in your arms admired you constantly, from the farthest corner of his soul to the tip of his button nose, and you wouldn’t know anything about it. 

“I draw you all the time,” he added. “I will never forget what you look like, but I always want to remember.” 

The implications of that didn’t fly over your head. His addition to telling you the truth disabled your ability to attribute the fact that he draws you in his free time to him being artistic. But more than being afraid of rejection, you feared a mutual connection. The only thing worse than you finding Hyunjin loveable was him finding that you were as well. 

“Do you know why?” he asked, looking at you expectantly. 

You wavered. You hadn’t spoken since he showed you his sketches. “Why?”

Hyunjin stared at you. Within the drunken fog of his eyes, there was earnestness. “Because I love you too.”

You didn’t know what to say, and you wouldn’t. There was solace in choosing to believe that he didn’t mean it. When tomorrow arrives, and he returns sober, you wouldn’t speak of this conversation at all. When night comes tomorrow, and he’s had a full day of rest, Hyunjin would vividly recall how you took care of him and told him you loved him, and he would draw you again. 

“Do you like them?”

His question snapped you out of your trance. Your sight blurred through a sudden quake before it focused on his face. Hyunjin pouted, his fingers tapping patiently at his notebook for your response. You softened with love and squeezed him in a hug, a smile blooming on your face. 

“I’ve never liked anything more,” you complimented, “except for you!”

His legs kicked when you nuzzled your face to the back of his neck. His heart filled, like the sun could fill up a piece of land and the moon could fill up a river, and in return for his joy, he let out a boisterous laugh. He didn’t hear how it sounded with yours. Still, it was such a wondrous thing. Your love was such a wondrous thing.

𑁍 Hyunjin ꒰ Stray Kids ꒱ lockscreens

damn, I'm so lonely...

in rose-tinted dreams.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 400 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship petnames — more

a/n. i’m still so sleepy ㅠㅠ

heeseung

would be so comfortable to cuddle; you’d be laying your head on his shoulder, an arm of yours lazily wrapped around his torso. he’d softly hum the melodies of familiar songs, absentmindedly drawing circles and patterns on your bare arm; “goodnight, love”, he’d whisper, holding you close to his body.

jongseong

would notice your gradual sleepiness, pointing out how it’s the third time you’ve slurred on your words, yawning mid-sentence; wordlessly cards his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep; would try to turn the lamp on the nightstand off as carefully as possible, not wanting to rouse you from your slumber. “night, babe”, he’d mumble, wrapping his arms around your waist.

jaeyun

would have a pretty delayed reaction to your tiredness; mid-way through his little ramble, he would’ve felt the weight of your head against his shoulder, eyes blinking down to gaze at your serene expression; plants a firm kiss to your forehead, softly giggling when you lightly stir in your sleep, scrunching your nose a little as you shift in your spot; “you’re so cute”, he’d mumble under his breath, breaking into a small smile at the sight.

sunghoon

would be the best cuddle buddy ever; engulfs you in a soft hug, pressing little kisses on your neck, or chin, from time to time, breath lightly fanning against your skin; gently plays with your hair, caressing the soft strands; “getting sleepy, aren’t we?” he’d ask, biting back a little chuckle at the way you snooze against his chest.

seonwoo

would absentmindedly play with your fingers, his own lightly stroking against the back of your palm; would speak in such a soft, tranquil manner, voice barely above a whisper; “baby, you can barely keep your eyes open...”, he’d point out, giggling a little when you lightly shake your head in stubborn resistance, yawning ever so quietly.

jungwon

would melt the moment he catches sight of you all bundled up in his blankets— when you’re curled up under the covers, eyes peeking out from the edges of the fluffy duvet, he can’t quite hold back a small, adoration-laced laugh; “you’re adorable”, he’d mumble, tugging you closer to his chest, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

riki

would cling onto you like a koala, limbs sprawled out over your own, his head resting against your shoulder; absentmindedly plays with your hair, lightly twirling the strands around his finger; “this is like the fifth time you’ve yawned in two minutes”, he’d say, a low giggle falling from his lips; would sneak photos of you, finding the way you’ve dozed peacefully in his arms, bundled up in heaps of blankets, adorable.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady @gweoriz @czlluvriki networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

★ when you wear another members’ hoodie

enhypen x fem!reader. fluff.

word count: 982 warnings: n/a a/n: like, reblog, and follow for more; THANK YOU ALL FOR 100 FOLLOWERS <33 this a present to you all i love u guys sm mwah thank you for reading my works :]

Keep reading

Kissing the enha boys!

genere! : fluff

pairings! : heeseung x reader, jay x reader, jake x reader, sunghoon x reader, sunoo x reader, jungwon x reader, niki x reader

warnings! : none

the last two posts got over 800 likes and got me over a 100 followers. you guys are amazing😭😭😭 thank u

LEE HEESEUNG

He acts like you are the one to need him at all times, while a minute ago he was almost begging you to have one kiss. Hee likes when you sit on his lap, hugging your waist tight. His head rests on your shoulder, head turned to yours, tickling your neck with his nose. "One qiuck?" he breaths onto your neck, placing pecks on your shoulder.

He likes them slow and long, only in private though. Holds your hand or waist, towering over you, and smiling down at you. He's also a fan of pecks on the lips.

[rest utc!]

PARK JONGSONG

He calls your pretty little name with the prettiest smile ever, eyes squinted searching for your attention as you look at him. He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer by a strong grip. As soon as he thinks you're close enough he pouts and leans in for a kiss. He lingers on your lips longer than expected, but when pulling back the smile is still glowing as it was before.

Jay loves to kiss you on your forehead, temple. He feels like he can protect you with his small kisses when hugging you close. You can say he's addicted a bit, always hanging around your face, time by time pressing kisses to your lips.

SIM JAEYUN

He loves to catch you off guard. While you talk he leans in for a quick kiss, and you're standing there with wide eyes as he smiles at you. Or while sitting next you on the couch, you're on your phone and he kisses your cheek.

He holds your waist softly as he leans in for longer kisses. One thing he can't help is to keep a straight face. He smiles and giggles in between kisses.

PARK SUNGHOON

He stares.

When waking up in the morning, after you get ready a bit, but still in PJs, you slip back under the covers and get on your phones, while Sunghoon holds your hand during it. When he decides that he needs a kiss, he either leans in himself, or stare. He puts his phone down and turns his head to your direction. Straight face kept on, but he can't keep his eyes to himself. When he notices you're not really paying any attention to him, he gives your hand a squish to get you to look at him.

After that he immediately puts his lips on yours and softly move it with the rythm of you.

KIM SUNOO

Cannot keep his hands to himself. Whenever he invites you to a kiss with a warm smile, he pulls you in by your hand then place it on you to keep you close and even closer to him. He embraces the back of your head with his hand, the other resting on your waist. You can feel him smile into the kiss all the time. He's so happy and a cheered up after having moments like this with you.

He always has a pout on to get your attention. "Y/n, give me a kiss!" he's excited every single time about kissing you. Sunoo is always happy to kiss you.

YANG JUNGWON

Wonie prefers when you initiate a kiss. He's feels like he's being pushy if he tries to kiss you even when you reassured him about it multiple times. But you can tell anytime if he wants one or not. He's also not shy to tell you where. On the neck, his cheek, jaw, forehead, and his favourite, on the lips. He points there shyly, pouting his lips to give more clues hoping he is very clear about his need.

When he's sleepy and you cuddle, he doesn't hold back and spoils you, dropping kisses on top of your head, smelling your hair and smiling to himself.

NISHIMURA RIKI

Forces himself at you. He gets you to think of kissing him. His manipulating trick is to keep himself close to you, so you automatically need him. He keeps his face close to yours, rest his head on your shoulder when sitting o the couch, or when you talk to him he leans in extra close, sometimes taking a look at your lips while you talk.

When you really don't get the clue he does it himself, but you should know you are staying with him for minutes till he lets you go. Not like you mind it, he's very playful with it.

bluesung coming back tatted hahaha ☺️🔫

Han in Hong Kong

2:53 am

"kei." no response. you know tsukishima has to get up early for work, but the window across from your bed is open, allowing the night breeze to creep in and sting your face. you could get up yourself, but that's what husbands are for, right?

you twist around, trying to wiggle out of your husband's grasp so you can take a better look at his sleeping face. he has an arm wrapped firmly around your waist, the other supporting your neck to, in his words, 'protect his ears from your constant complaints about your sore neck in the morning'.

"honey?" you poke his cheek, smiling to yourself when he grunts in response. tsukishima has always been a light sleeper. you lay in silence for a few seconds before he finally lets out a sigh, opening his eyes to look at you.

"what do you want?"

you muster up your biggest doe eyes, knowing that he hates getting out of bed just as much as you do. "close the window for me?"

"no. you do it."

you sigh dramatically, gesturing at his arms wrapped firmly around you. "i would love to, but someone is holding me hostage, so i think you're going to have to do it."

tsukishima rolls his eyes, untangling his arms from your body. "problem solved." he holds back a smile when you frown and pull the blankets away from him, turning your back towards him. you're so cute. tsukishima would do anything you ask of him without hesitation, but he can't help but tease you a bit first. he'll never get tired of your reactions, and he loves that he can be a little snarky with you.

you sigh again, this time louder and more pointed, pretending to shiver just to show your husband how cold you really are, and how cruel he is for not helping. "if only someone could hold me right now...", you trailed off.

"ok, do you want me to help you or not?" he finally gives in, getting up to reach for his glasses. you win, as usual. you turn back to face him again with a smile as bright as sunshine, and despite all of the years you've been together, his heart still stops for a second. wow. okay, maybe he is obsessed with you, but he can't help it. you've clearly worked your magic on him, considering the fact that he's getting out of the bed for you when he has to be awake in a few hours. he goes to close the windows with a firm click, walking back to his side of bed.

"kei...since you're already up...", he looks back to see your guilty smile, an empty mug in your hands. "please? last thing, i swear." he give you a look that reads, "you're lucky i love you." (you know you're the luckiest person in the world.)

he takes your mug and you hear his quiet footsteps making their way to the kitchen. he comes back, handing you a mug full of warm water. once you take a sip, he takes the mug from you again, placing it on your nightstand.

"i poisoned that," he quips, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before finally lying down and snaking his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer to him. the only reason he hates getting out of bed is that he has to let go of you, but he doesn't need to say that. he's sure you already know.

literally sobbing rn

Love Lessons

Genre: husband!Chan, angst, fluff

Warnings: self hatred (Chan)

Request: no

Characters: Chan, Y/N

Word Count: 1.8k

"I wish I looked like him."

Bewildered, Y/N turned to look at her husband. Chan was looking at the TV a little wistfully, a sad smile on his lips as he studied the actor depicted on the screen.

"He's so handsome … " Chan continued with a sigh, and he leaned back into the sofa in slow defeat. "And have you seen his body? He's so … big."

Y/N blinked. She moved fully so her body was facing his, and she reached out to take his surprised face in her hands. "Well, I'm very glad you don't look like him. I'm attracted to you, not him."

Chan was confused. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you attracted to me … ?" Chan's voice came out in a whisper; it wavered and cracked towards the end, and Y/N bit her lip.

She had a feeling it was one of those days. One of those days where her husband hated himself more than anything. One of those days where her heart broke over and over again in her attempts at trying to get him to see what she could see.

But she'd never stop trying. Not until he could finally learn to love himself even a fraction of how much she loved him.

"Because you're beautiful," Y/N smiled, caressing his cheeks. "And I love you very much."

Chan frowned. He didn't seem convinced; but then again, he never did. "But … I'm ugly."

Y/N considered saying "no, you're not" or "don't say that" … but something in the back of her mind told her not to. She decided to try a different approach, one that hurt her a little more than she wanted to admit.

"Okay," Y/N nodded softly. "Let's say you are ugly."

Chan was taken aback; his eyes widened as he stared at his wife.

Y/N smiled gently. "If you're ugly, does that mean you deserve less love than anyone else?"

Her question hit him harder than he thought it would. He blinked slowly, and he began to shake his head.

"No," Y/N murmured as she shook her own head along with him. "It doesn't. Do you remember what you used to tell your fans all those years ago?"

Chan bit his lip.

"'It doesn't matter where you're from, it doesn't matter what country you're in'," Y/N quoted as Chan's eyes began to glisten rather brightly. "'You deserve love. It doesn't matter what you are, what you chose to be, you deserve love,'."

At that, Chan couldn't help the tears that began to drop down his cheeks. Smiling up at him with her eyes full of love, Y/N wiped the tears away with her thumbs as she pulled him a little closer to her.

"I know it wasn't exactly about looks," Y/N said. "But I know for a fact that if someone was hating themselves back then because they thought they were ugly, you'd have immediately told them they deserved to be loved."

Looking down at his lap, Chan shut his eyes tightly. He hadn't expected this; he had no idea his musings would result in his wife's words bringing the tears out of him.

"Why are you any different, hmm?" Y/N gently caressed the nape of his neck; his hair had begun to curl up there, and it was soft, so incredibly soft that Y/N couldn't help but feel sad. She didn't understand why her husband hated himself when there were parts of him that were so dear to her, that she had no idea what she'd do without them.

"Who are you to not love yourself?"

At that, Chan spluttered; the hems of his shorts had ridden up his thighs, and they now glistened as fat tears splashed onto his skin like sad fireworks.

Y/N let him cry; she rubbed his back and kissed his hands until he was finished. When he looked up at her with red eyes, she almost felt her heart physically shattering into smithereens like glass.

There was so much pain and self loathing painted in his eyes … the eyes that felt like home to her, the eyes that calmed the depths of her anxious soul on the most terrifying of nights. She was shocked that such beautiful galaxies could hold such hatred; hatred that was directed at himself.

She found it terrifying yet beautiful that the eyes that looked at her with such love were the same as these ones; hard, cold, and full of pain.

"Okay," she whispered, reaching out to slip her fingers onto his again. "Okay. Let's go through this. What is it exactly that you think is ugly about you, baby?"

"Everything," Chan whispered. "Everything."

"Everything is a very big word, my darling," Y/N smiled. "I don't think even you hate everything about yourself."

She knew him well; the corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly, and she couldn't help but inwardly smile even bigger.

"Okay, let's try this instead … you love me, right?"

It was remarkable; Chan's eyes immediately softened at the question, the sparkle that was so familiar to Y/N appearing in his pupils.

"Very much," Chan hummed.

"What is it that you love about me?" Y/N asked.

Chan smiled. "Everything."

At that, Y/N couldn't help but giggle. She leaned forward and kissed the man on his cheek. It was wet and fever hot, and she wiped the traces of tears away with her fingers again.

"Well … you believe in soulmates, don't you?"

He had no idea where this was going, but he nodded; he had said countless times since meeting her that he felt as though their souls were extensions of one another.

"If we're soulmates, then that would mean we share bits of each other, right?" Y/N asked.

Chan pondered this. He nodded slowly.

"If bits of you are in me, and bits of me are in you … " Y/N whispered, running her fingers over the backs of her husband's hands. "If you hate yourself, wouldn't that mean you're also hating bits of me?"

Chan's eyes suddenly widened. He seemed at a loss for words; he had no idea if what she was saying was scientifically correct or not, but he suddenly didn't care. The thought of him hating her, indirectly or not, was too much for him to bear.

His eyes suddenly flooded with tears all over again.

"Baby … " Chan whispered, dropping his face into his hands. Tears spilled through the gaps in his fingers as his body shook in front of his wife.

"Do you know one of the reasons why I began to love myself?" Y/N continued.

Chan shook his head.

"I started seeing pieces of you in me. The more time we spent together, the more I fell in love with you … I realised we were so much more similar than I thought was possible. And I thought … how on earth am I supposed to hate myself when so much of me is like you?"

"Y/N … " Chan was crying loudly now; his face contorted with pain as he gulped, his entire body shuddering. He didn't know what was going through his mind … all he knew was that he had never loved anyone as much as he loved the woman in front of him.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Chan pulled Y/N into him; he closed his lips over hers in a warm kiss, one that made Y/N's own eyes prickle with emotion as she shut them. She kissed him back, her lips gently caressing his. She was telling him something that no amount of words could ever say, and fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, and onto hers.

Y/N sniffed as she kissed her husband. She suddenly remembered reading about how people who didn’t love themselves couldn't love others; she couldn't help but feel that that was wrong. She had never felt as loved by anyone as she had by her husband. He loved her fiercely, passionately, so much so that sometimes she forgot he was even capable of hating in the first place.

She knew that people said it was impossible to love a broken person. She didn't think that was true. Difficult, perhaps.

But never impossible.

"You're beautiful to me," Y/N whispered now as she cupped his cheeks. "You're always going to be beautiful to me."

Chan nodded against her; her earlier words had flooded through him like a shock wave, and he suddenly felt incredibly guilty towards himself.

I was something he had never experienced before. He didn't quite know what to make of it.

"Whether you're ugly or you're not," Y/N said, her face breaking into a smile as she nudged her husband playfully. "Which you're not. But ugly or not, your body works so hard for you everyday. It does its best for you so you can eat and so you can walk and so you can talk and just … be alive. Don't you think it deserves a little bit of love for that?"

"Yeah … " Chan hiccuped. He leaned forward and Y/N immediately scooped him up into her arms. She held him tightly, gently rocking him as he cried into her shirt with an urgency that made her feel as though hundreds of little needles were piercing through her heart.

"I know you're always dissatisfied with your body and the way you look … " Y/N whispered against his shoulder. "But no matter how much your body changes, you're always going to be dissatisfied if you don't truly love yourself. You could be the strongest man in the world … but if you hate yourself, you'd still find a reason to be unhappy about your appearance."

Chan knew she was right. She always was. She knew him better than he knew himself - she seems to have somehow crawled into the depths of his mind and addressed the thought that constantly berated him throughout the day.

He knew he'd never be satisfied with the way he looked. He also knew there was only one way to go about fixing that.

Perhaps it was time he actually tried.

"You're right," he whispered, sniffing as he rubbed his cheek against Y/N's neck. "I know you're right. You're always right."

"This isn't about me being right, baby," Y/N smiled as she kissed his cheek. "I just want you to be happy in your own skin. I can't make you happy … but I can hold your hand and be right here while you do it for yourself, you know?"

Chab nodded. He nodded hard, and when he pulled away from his wife again, his face began to glow with a small smile.

"Aw, look at that," Y/N laughed quietly as she kissed his smile. "You're the most beautiful man I have ever seen."

He flushed; his nose turned pink and instead of denying the compliment like he usually would, he grinned.

"Thank you?"

---

Tag list ~ @koos-euphoria @raethethey @hugs4chan @hotmesshapa @manonblackbeak-trash @hendsernoodle @stanskzseungmin @ateez-babygirl @dalamjisung @dinosdawn @cookiemonstermusic258 @strwbrryfroyo @gazelle-des-pres @qtieskz @stigmvta @necromancersupreme @super-btstrash-posts @changlix-mp4 @exonations @changboobies @jeyelleohe @rae-blogging @planetdemon @dani41 @jumbocircus @octalalica @velvetand-roses @foivetimesacharm @anaaam @waverzzzzzzzz @peachy-flxwr @elizabeth11moreno @lenfilms @xhazmania @starshine-moon @justoutfromdead @snow-pegasus @lixiesbabyhands @bbychannie97 @laylasbunbunny @americanokisses @bluechans @bellamuerte1987 @meowmeowisdaname @chanssmiles @minunivers @septicrebel @bangchans-angel @spacegirlstuff @sstarryoong (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

*/punches the wall

⋅ GENRES: established relationship; fluff

⋅ PAIRING: Jaeyun x fem!reader

⋅ WORD COUNT: 0.8K

⋅ WARNINGS: established relationship with Jake? late nights with him? slow dancing with him?! it’s all valid warnings if you ask me, but the real warnings are mentions of alcohol; slightly suggestive content

Jake wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants.

No — he was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you and order food past midnight. He placed blankets on the hardwood floor of your living room and made picnics on it. The whispered lyrics of a love song and your laughter being the only furor in the middle of the sleeping city. And when the bowls were empty, and the wine sank in, he was the type of boyfriend to ask you to dance with him.

Barefoot and clumsy, Jake loved to dance with you.

The night had fallen into those silent hours when no one could tell if it was really late or really early. The gentle breeze streaming through the open windows of your living room being the only sound resonating with Jake’s chosen playlist — and his laughter.

You weren’t sure if you had intended to be funny. You knew you were talking about something, trailing a long line of thoughts but you stopped at the sound of him, allowing everything to slip and slide away with a single hitch of breath.

You loved the way Jake laughed. You loved the way he always tilted his head back, his nose wrinkling, and his eyes closing. His whole body always poured his emotions because it was the only way Jake knew how to be — too pure and too intense.

The echoes of his laugh were still on his lips as he straightened himself back to look at you, coming to you with a soft smile. Shafts of golden luminescence reached for him, embellishing his face, turning the dark brown of his eyes into a gentle amber. He was all shades of gold, reflections of the city lights and the dim flames of the candles you had lit some moment at the beginning of the night.

Jake took your hand in his, thumb caressing the inside of your wrist before he brought it to his lips and kissed it. The overwhelming affection of the gesture caused your heart to beat a little faster, and although you could see the tip of his ears turning a bit rosy, Jake smirked against your skin.

“Dance with me?” he whispered.

It was a rite, even though you both knew you would never deny him, Jake always waited, and only when you nodded at him, he curled his fingers on yours, bringing you up and closer to him.

One of his hands found the small of your back, and your whole body hummed. It wasn’t anything new. Jake had explored your body far more than anyone ever could, but still, there was something so overwhelming about being touched by him — about being loved by him.

Your bare feet made no sound as he suddenly spun you through the hardwood floor, the button shirt you had stolen from him swirling dangerously around your thighs until he decided to bring you back to him.

You pulled your arms around his shoulders, and Jake laughed once again. It was your favorite standing and he knew it. He embraced your waist with his both arms, lending in just enough for you to hide your face under his chin.

Jake smelled like honeysuckle, like oranges and citrus groves in the sun. He was a piece of summer no other season could ever take away and you longed for his warmth.

“I like this song,” he said. It sounded like a statement to nobody, but then, he placed his lips against your ear, and the lyrics threaded through your hair as if the only thing he ever wanted was for you to know it.

It was nothing extravagant, his voice came a bit low and timid, but it spread a warm feeling through your chest.

“It took your love to make my heart come alive,” Jake sang. “Cause’ I lived my life believing all love is blind.”

“But everything about you is telling me this time it’s forever, this time I know and there’s no doubt in my mind.”

Your fingers curled on the hair at his nape, and Jake shivered beneath your touch, the soft rustle of his breath hitching against your ear before he failed to sing the next lyrics, but he didn’t need to — you already knew them.

You always knew them.

Forever, until my life is through. Girl, I’ll be loving you forever.

The romantic chords kept going, but Jake stopped, drawing back just enough for his eyes to search yours. It was adorable the way he smiled, boyish and eyes glittering in the low light. A mischief that matched the way he kissed you.

Jake wasn’t the type of boyfriend to buy expensive bouquets or take you to fancy restaurants.

No — he was the type of boyfriend to pick flowers on the sidewalk for you and order food past midnight. He danced with you, barefoot and clumsy, in the middle of your living room, and this was how you had found forever.