Hello Lovelies!

Thank you!! This is such an incredible compliment ILYSM! 💕

𑁍ࠬܓ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( stray kids )

❛ In which the members of Stray Kids navigate the world of fatherhood without you.

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 4.4k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This request was absolutely devastating to write, thank you! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has passed away, each member is a single father still in love with you, mentions of grief, some of the kids fall under the LGBTQ+ community.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

방찬 ── BANG CHAN.

Chan's office was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the desk lamps, casting a warm yet somber light across the room. The gentle hum of the night time silence was broken only by the rhythmic, soothing breaths of his three-year-old daughter, who lay peacefully on the worn leather couch. Her tiny face, so serene in slumber, was a haunting mirror of your beautiful features, stirring a profound ache in Chan's heart.

As he watched her, tears began to silently trace their way down his cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of his sorrow and longing. He could still hear your final, trembling words: "Love her twice as much in my absence." The memory was a dagger, twisting with the relentless guilt and grief that had become his constant companions. The sight of his daughter's innocent face, so reminiscent of you, only deepened his anguish.

Today had been especially trying. Chan had promised his little girl a joyous outing to the park, a precious respite from his hectic work schedule. But the day took an unexpected turn when Changbin called in a panic, frantically searching for the nearly completed recording of their latest song. What Chan had hoped would be a swift resolution morphed into hours of desperate searching, only to end in the devastating realization that they would have to begin the recording anew.

All the while, his daughter’s patience wore thin. She had no toys, no distractions, just the suffocating boredom of waiting. Her disappointment was palpable, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. Chan felt like he was failing her, failing in the promise he had made to you. Driven by the need to make amends, he gently woke his daughter. Her initial crankiness gave way to curiosity as he apologized for breaking his promise and proposed a sleepover at home. Movies, games, a fort, and endless cuddles — her eyes sparkled at the thought, and her frown dissolved into giggles.

At home, they transformed the living room into a magical fortress of pillows and blankets, a sanctuary just for them. They watched animated tales, played games, and reveled in the simple joy of being together. Wrapped in the cozy embrace of their fort, she eventually succumbed to sleep once more, nestled against him. Her hair, a tousled mess, and a small trail of drool on his shirt were endearing reminders of her tender age and boundless trust in him.

Chan held her close, his heart swelling with love and a bittersweet yearning. She was the living embodiment of his heart, and as he gazed at her, he whispered a vow into the stillness of the night. He promised to love her with all his might, carrying the weight of both his love and the part of you that would forever reside in their lives. In that quiet moment, amidst the echoes of his promises, he felt a fragile sense of peace, knowing that as long as he held her, he was keeping your memory alive.

이민호 ── LEE MINHO.

Minho lay in the dim, soft glow of his bedroom, shadows whispering across the walls as the twins slept peacefully beside him. Their tiny forms had claimed your side of the bed, filling the void where your presence once brought warmth and comfort. The night he returned home with the babies, he had attempted to sleep alone, but the emptiness was unbearable. He tossed and turned, haunted by the silence, until one of the babies began to cry, inevitably waking the other. In his desperation to soothe them, he gathered every pillow he could find, crafting a makeshift crib in his bed. Their delicate features softened in the calm of his presence, and they finally drifted off to sleep.

As Minho gazed at their angelic faces, hands entwined even in slumber, his heart ached with the weight of your absence. How could he begin to process this loss? You had spent almost ten months nurturing these little miracles, only to be taken away before you could revel in the beauty of their existence. Ten months of creating life, and you would never witness the serene way they held hands in their sleep. Ten months of dreams and hopes, and you would miss their first birthdays, graduations, weddings. It was unbearably cruel, and Minho’s soul was tormented by the thought.

You wouldn’t even be here to laugh about the pregnancy mix-up that had both of you convinced it would be a boy and a girl, only to welcome two beautiful baby girls into the world. His friends had offered to stay and help, but he had declined, needing the solitude to grapple with his grief. Now, in the stillness of the night, he questioned if he had made the right choice.

Tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks as the full weight of his new reality settled over him. He was to raise these precious little princesses on his own, and the responsibility felt crushing. Yet, as he watched their peaceful slumber, he knew he had to summon every ounce of strength for them. They were his world now, the living, breathing remnants of your love. He vowed to cherish them, to love them fiercely, and to guide them through life with unwavering dedication, for they were all he had left of you, and he was all they had.

In the hushed silence, he whispered promises into the night, pledging to be the best father he could be. He would ensure they knew how deeply you loved them, even if you couldn’t be there to tell them yourself. And as he held them close, feeling the rise and fall of their tiny chests, a fragile peace washed over him. He knew that in every laugh, every tear, and every milestone, you would be there in spirit, guiding him, loving them, always.

서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the park as Changbin and his 13-year-old son sat on a weathered wooden bench, savoring their ice cream. The park buzzed with the laughter of children, their joy mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves in the summer breeze. Parents lounged on the grass, basking in the last light of day, while Changbin watched his son’s face light up with a blush as he received a message.

Changbin couldn’t resist teasing him. "Who’s got you smiling like that?" he asked, his voice laced with playful curiosity.

His son’s cheeks reddened further, and he looked away, trying to hide his smile. "Just a girl from school," he mumbled, glancing at his phone. "She texted to congratulate me on today’s soccer game."

Changbin’s interest was piqued. "A girl, huh? Do you like her?" he inquired gently, but his son just rolled his eyes, keeping his thoughts to himself.

After a while, his son broke the comfortable silence with a question that took Changbin by surprise. "Dad, how did you know Mom was the one for you?"

Changbin's heart swelled with a bittersweet mix of love and nostalgia. He took a deep breath, the memory washing over him like a tender wave. "Well," he began softly, "it was before you were born. Your mom and I had only been dating for a few months. One evening, we decided to take a ride on my motorcycle to grab some food. On the way back, she spotted a bookstore and got all excited. She tapped my shoulder and pointed it out, her eyes sparkling like a child's. I couldn't say no to that."

He smiled, lost in the memory. "We stopped, and I handed her my card, telling her to get whatever she wanted. She promised she’d come out empty-handed, but I knew better." He chuckled, remembering your sheepish yet triumphant expression as you emerged with a bag hidden behind your back. "She ended up buying two books and couldn’t stop talking about them, her excitement contagious. When I told her I was glad she found something, she did this little dance of joy before climbing back onto the bike. She had to hold the bag since her backpack was already stuffed with our food, but she was too happy to care."

Changbin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. "That’s when I knew she was the one. It wasn’t some grand gesture; it was her pure joy in the little things, her passion for life. I wish you could have known her. She loved you so much, even before you were born."

His son’s eyes mirrored his own longing and admiration. "I wish I’d known her too," he said softly. "My goal in life is to find my soulmate, like you found Mom. I want to love someone as much as you loved her."

Changbin’s heart ached with pride and sorrow. "You deserve to have someone by your side for a long time," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, "Who knows, maybe this girl from school is your one."

His son groaned, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he nudged Changbin, causing his ice cream to topple onto the ground. Changbin laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed through the park. His own ice cream slipped from his grasp, joining his son’s on the pavement, and they both burst into laughter, the joy of the moment a soothing balm to their hearts.

In that golden hour, surrounded by the simple pleasures of ice cream and shared memories, Changbin felt a profound sense of peace. Despite the heartache and loss, he and his son would continue to find love and joy in the little things, just as you had taught him. And in those moments of laughter and connection, he felt your presence with them, a silent guardian watching over their journey, smiling at their shared happiness.

황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin sat alone in the dimly lit room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden hue over the familiar surroundings. The air was thick with memories, each piece of furniture and every stroke of paint a testament to the love and labor he had shared with you. His heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia as he looked around, his mind filled with the echoes of laughter and the whispers of cherished moments.

He remembered the countless hours spent building the furniture, the frustration and triumph mingling as he struggled with stubborn screws, while you sat nearby, reading the instructions with a patience that never failed to calm him. The nursery walls, painted in a tapestry of happy themes, bore the marks of your combined artistic talents, creating a sanctuary for the new life you both awaited with eager anticipation.

The night he returned home with the baby, your absence a gaping void beside him, was etched into his soul. He had sat in the rocking chair, the one he had bought especially for you, cradling the fragile bundle in his arms, paralyzed by the fear of being alone. Many nights, he had dozed off in that chair, too afraid to leave its comforting embrace, haunted by the silence that your departure had left behind.

A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the day he found your child drawing on the walls, their tiny hands busy creating a colorful mural over your delicate paintings. It had pained him to see your work altered, but the sight of their concentrated little face, so much like yours, had softened his heart. He had chosen to let them be creative, to express themselves freely, even if it meant sacrificing a piece of you.

He thought of the time his six-year-old had cried in his arms, their tiny body trembling with confusion and hurt because they didn't fit in with the boys or the girls. Hyunjin had held them close, whispering reassurances, his heart breaking at the familiar pain. It had been a long journey, but he had worked tirelessly to make their home a sanctuary of love and acceptance.

The memories came in a flood, each one a cherished gem: the summer in middle school when they returned home with bags of new clothes and put on a fashion show, proudly displaying their androgynous style; the pride parade, where he meticulously placed sticky rainbow gems on their face, their giddy excitement lighting up the day; and finally, the day they graduated and moved out, leaving behind an empty room filled with the ghosts of the past.

Tears rolled down Hyunjin’s face as he sat in the rocking chair, now old and creaky, thinking of all the moments he had cherished yet wished he could have shared with you. The weight of the memories pressed down on him, a heavy, inescapable burden.

Suddenly, his phone rang, startling him from his reverie. He hastily wiped his tears and saw it was a FaceTime call from his child. He answered, and their beaming face filled the screen, the excitement in their eyes mirrored by the twinkling fairy lights in their new apartment's bedroom.

“Hey, Dad! Look at my new room!” they exclaimed, panning the camera around to show off their new space, their voice bubbling with pride and joy.

Hyunjin’s heart swelled with pride and love. “It looks amazing, sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I miss you,” they confessed, their eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can we spend the first night together, through the phone?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, trying to mask his lingering sadness. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of moving out?”

They laughed, a sound that was pure and unfiltered joy. “Maybe, but I know you’re in my old room crying already.”

He laughed too, the heaviness lifting just a bit. “You got me there.”

They didn’t hang up, staying connected through the screen as the night deepened. Hyunjin lay back in the rocking chair, his child propped up in their new bed, both finding solace in the familiar presence of each other. As they talked and laughed, Hyunjin realized that though you weren’t physically there, your spirit lived on in these moments, in the love that continued to bind them together. And for now, that was enough.

한지성 ── HAN JISUNG.

Jisung found his seven-year-old child hidden within the treehouse that the three of you had built together. This small wooden sanctuary, once filled with laughter and joy, now bore the heavy weight of sorrow. They were still in their funeral attire, the black clothes contrasting sharply against the soft glow of the setting sun. The murmurs of the guests lingering in the backyard became a distant, indistinct hum as Jisung climbed into the treehouse, his heart burdened with grief and a simmering anger at the universe for taking you away so cruelly.

His son's youthful face was etched with a grief that seemed too profound for such a young soul. Jisung felt a surge of helplessness as he reached out, pulling his child close, wrapping him in an embrace meant to shield him from the cruel world outside. “I miss Mom,” came the soft, heart-wrenching whisper, each word a dagger to Jisung’s already shattered heart.

“I miss Mom too,” Jisung murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. They sat together in silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on them like an insurmountable force.

It had been nearly a year since you had fallen ill, the sickness so severe that the doctors had given you only a few months at most. Yet, you had defied their grim prognosis, your spirit burning brightly despite the frailty of your body. Jisung remembered the countless nights spent by your side, swallowing his fears and anger as you spoke of your impending death with a calm acceptance that had always made him furious. To him, it felt as though you had given up, but he knew deep down that wasn’t the case. You hadn’t wanted to waste what little time you had left fighting an unwinnable battle. Perhaps if he had truly listened, if he had embraced those fleeting moments instead of railing against them, he might have cherished your final days more deeply.

His son, too young to fully grasp the concept of death, struggled with the finality of it all. He understood that you would never return, yet accepting it was a different matter entirely. Jisung’s heart broke anew each time he saw the confusion and sorrow in his child’s eyes, a mirror of his own torment.

Holding his son tighter, Jisung wished he could find the right words to ease the pain, to make sense of a world that had suddenly lost its light. But words failed him, crumbled under the weight of their shared grief. Instead, he let the silence speak, hoping the strength of his embrace could convey the love and comfort his words could not.

The treehouse, once a symbol of their shared joy, now held their sorrow. The walls, which had echoed with laughter and dreams, now seemed to absorb their pain, standing as silent witnesses to their loss. But within this small, sacred space, surrounded by the memories of happier times, Jisung hoped they could begin to heal. He would be there for his son, a steadfast presence in the storm of their grief, guiding him through the darkness with a love that, while tested, remained unbroken.

As the last light of day faded, Jisung held his son close, both finding a semblance of solace in each other’s presence. In the quiet, grief-stricken aftermath, they began to forge a new bond, one tempered by loss but strengthened by their enduring love. And in that silent communion, Jisung found a glimmer of hope that they would eventually find their way through the darkness together.

이용복 ── LEE YONGBOK.

In a home where the relentless energy of three young girls and their single father painted every day with hues of joyous chaos, peace was a fleeting visitor. The air thrummed with the symphony of exuberant laughter, the vibrant discord of simultaneous chatter, and the relentless rhythm of youthful exuberance. Yongbok would never trade this tempestuous world for anything, yet a hollow ache lingered for the presence of the one who had been the steady heartbeat of their lives.

Your sudden departure had cast a profound shadow over their once lively abode, transforming it into a quieter realm where your laughter’s echoes were replaced by an oppressive silence. As time wove its delicate fabric over the jagged edges of grief, the house gradually adjusted to a new cadence, yet the weight of your absence hung heavy in every corner.

Despite this, Yongbok discovered fragments of you embedded within the fabric of their daily lives. He saw your essence in the selfless nurturing of his eldest daughter, who had seamlessly stepped into the role of co-caregiver. Her quiet acts of love and responsibility were a poignant echo of the devotion you had always shown, a continuation of your spirit in her every gesture.

In the middle child’s vibrant monologues about obscure topics, Yongbok glimpsed your enduring influence. Her unquenchable thirst for knowledge mirrored the intellectual curiosity you had nurtured, each passionate explanation a living testament to your legacy.

The youngest, with her mischievous gleam and boundless spirit, kept Yongbok perpetually on his toes. Her playful antics and joyful mischief were a vivid reminder of the vivacity you had infused into their home, a living echo of the light you had brought into their lives.

In the quiet moments, Yongbok could still feel your presence. The post-it notes left in his lunch bag by his eldest daughter, each inscribed with a simple message of love, were imbued with your warmth. The tender strokes of his middle daughter’s fingers through his hair during their movie nights were a silent connection to you. And in the gentle inquiries of his youngest, her head peeking around the door to ensure he was alright, he felt the deep compassion you had instilled in her.

Though you were absent from the milestones and daily rhythms, your essence lived on through them. In the small, tender acts of affection and love, you continued to be a cherished part of their lives, an enduring presence in their hearts.

김승민 ── KIM SEUNGMIN.

Seungmin had been absent through the vast expanse of your pregnancy, the relentless demands of touring keeping him away. He returned just in time to witness the birth, only to be swallowed by the crushing weight of your absence. The pain of missing those precious moments with you, of not being there to share in the miracle of your last days, was a wound that never healed. This haunting regret followed him, a constant reminder of a future lost.

The day you passed, Seungmin left Stray Kids, unable to bear the weight of the stage without you by his side. He couldn’t find solace in the bright lights or the rhythms of his music. Instead, he focused on his two sons—an older one, now sixteen, and a younger one, now twelve. The older boy, once a vibrant spirit, had retreated into the shadows of his room, his once lively demeanor replaced by a sullen silence. The baseball games that had once bound them together now lay abandoned, and Seungmin, despite the storm within, knew he had to reach out.

Determined to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, Seungmin planned a day just for the two of them. He left the youngest with his closest friend, Jeongin, and took his older son out. The car ride was a quiet procession of unspoken thoughts, the weight of their shared grief hanging heavily between them. When they finally arrived at their destination, Seungmin braced himself, ready to face the tender fracture of their relationship.

It took patience, but eventually, the silence broke. The older boy revealed his feelings for a boy at school, emotions that he struggled to understand. Seungmin was taken aback, but he remained calm, his heart aching with a blend of surprise and concern. As his son’s tears fell freely, Seungmin pulled him into a tender embrace, his own heart aching with a mixture of empathy and love. He whispered reassurances into his son’s hair, promising acceptance and protection, vowing to stand by him no matter what.

The boy, still tearful but comforted, then showed Seungmin a small journal. Inside was a song he had penned, a poignant melody woven with the threads of his conflicted feelings for the boy at school. The song was hauntingly beautiful, a reflection of his son’s delicate soul and burgeoning talent. Seungmin’s heart swelled with pride and love as he listened, recognizing the echoes of his own musical spirit in his child’s creation.

As the day drew to a close, Seungmin received a snapshot from Jeongin—his youngest child, covered in dirt and beaming with the joy of a day spent playing baseball. The image was a burst of pure happiness, a vivid reminder that even amidst the sorrow, moments of light and joy persisted.

As the sun set, Seungmin felt a renewed connection with his older son, a fragile yet precious bond rekindled through their shared experiences and heartfelt conversation. Though the regret of not being there for you lingered, he found solace in the fact that he was striving to be the father you would have been proud of. In the quiet moments of the evening, he hoped, with all his heart, that wherever you were, you watched over them and felt a deep pride in the man he was becoming—a father striving to honor your memory through the love and strength he gave to your family.

양정인 ── JANG JEONGIN.

Jeongin’s youngest daughter was a restless spirit, her stubborn yet carefree nature a constant reminder of the love she once shared with you. Each burst of laughter, every defiant flicker of joy, was a living echo of your vibrant presence. In contrast, his oldest son was a mirror of Jeongin’s own meticulous nature, his life meticulously ordered, each ambition carefully planned.

Lately, Jeongin’s heart had been heavy with worry. His daughter, brimming with reckless exuberance, frequently dashed off to meet a boy Jeongin knew was unworthy. The thought of her entangled with someone without a future gnawed at him, leaving him adrift in a sea of concern. As he lay awake at night, the silence seemed to taunt him, and he often found himself wondering how you would have navigated these troubled waters if you had still been there to guide them.

One night, as the moonlight spilled softly through the window, Jeongin was wrenched from sleep by the unmistakable sound of muffled sobs. His heart raced as he followed the cries to his daughter’s room. He paused at the door, the murmur of his son’s voice cutting through the silence. The room, once a sanctuary of dreams, was now a cocoon of whispered regrets and stifled tears. His daughter’s voice wavered with the weight of her shame, confessing her feelings of foolishness for having trusted the boy. His son, with a soothing calmness that mirrored your gentle strength, reassured her that she wasn’t foolish, merely swept up in the exhilarating tide of young love. He told her she deserved better than a boy with no future, his words a soft balm to her wounded spirit.

Jeongin’s heart ached with a mixture of pride and sorrow as he heard his son’s comforting tones, the echoes of your nurturing spirit resonating in his voice. After a few moments, he gathered the courage to step into the room. His eyes were tender with understanding as he took in the scene: his daughter’s tear-streaked face, her hands buried in her lap. Her cries grew louder as she saw him, her embarrassment palpable as she shielded her face with her hands.

Jeongin knelt before her, his expression a blend of love and compassion. Gently, he reached for her hands, drawing them away from her face to hold them in his own. His touch was a lifeline, a silent promise of unwavering support.

“You told me so, I know,” she choked out, her voice a trembling whisper.

“I would never say that, my love,” Jeongin murmured, his voice rich with tenderness. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close against his chest. His gaze met his son’s, a shared understanding passing between them.

“I know it hurts,” Jeongin whispered into her hair, his voice a soothing melody against her ear, “but this isn’t the end.” His embrace was a warm cocoon, a sanctuary of love amidst the storm of her emotions. The night unfolded in a delicate tapestry of comfort and hope, a testament to the enduring love that bound them together, even in the quiet absence of your guiding presence.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @bowsnbang @nothinginterestingtoshowhere

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

⨳ ❛𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓

❛ In which two disabled idols find comfort in each other’s arms.

𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 ) 0.4k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ Longer note at the end! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Han deals with a lot of anxiety and depression, reader has fibromyalgia, constant mentions of being in pain, love-making, cussing, lots of angst, MDNI.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

⌗ OO┆ 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

Lady of the night, come out and kiss your stars

Whisper to the moon, and show us where you are

A sea of souls sang to you, their red lights piercing through the deluge, holding their beacons aloft as if to guide you. The rain pelted them like relentless bullets, yet they stood steadfast, their voices rising above the cacophony of thunder and your own racing heartbeat.

In the shadows deep, where the lost souls weep

You dance alone, in the dark so far

The microphone slipped from your trembling grasp as those from backstage rushed forward, but you lifted a hand, bidding them to halt. Slowly, you raised your gaze, meeting the crowd's eyes. Time seemed to stop, air turning scarce as their expectant faces filled your vision. They continued their song, perhaps waiting for you to join them, but motivation eluded you like a distant star.

Oh, Lady of the night, with your eyes so bright

Guide us through the endless night

Your body screamed in protest, every nerve alive with pain, yet you found the strength to sit up, pulling your legs from beneath you to sit properly, heedless of the dress unsuited for such a posture. The rain attacked your body, but your heart and mind were soothed by the sound of your first song, sung by hundreds of voices you feared would abandon you. But they stayed steadfast.

With your spectral light, take us to new heights

Lady of the night, be our silent guide

Those who had rushed to your aid now stood aside, poised to move at your command. Your manager, face red with fury, glared at you with a burning intensity, but his rage couldn't penetrate the serene bubble enclosing you.

Winds begin to howl, as you make your silent call

Through the ancient trees, your ghostly footsteps fall

In the midnight air, there’s a longing there

For the dreams you weave, in your silver shawl

As the song went on, your heartbeat steadied, no longer threatening to burst your veins. For the first time in weeks, you knew peace. The world spun at a gentle pace, your thoughts stilled, and air filled your lungs like a cool drink on a sweltering day. Your eyes fluttered closed, and a soft smile graced your lips.

Unconsciously, you mouthed the words that had sparked your career, finally grasping the lyrics you had penned yourself.

Lady of the night, won't you come out and kiss your stars

In your tender light, we’ll forget our scars

As the song reached its end, you reached out to someone nearby, their touch grounding you as you rose to your feet. The audience's voice swelled, their energy lifting you, and tears you hadn't known you'd held back flowed freely.

Till the morning’s hue, we’ll dream with you

Lady of the night, wherever you are

Oh, what a time to be alive.

posted: 06 • 01 • 2024

💬 a note from green;

by popular vote, i present to you: TFFA! i’m so so happy to be back guys, y’all have no idea the amount of stress i’ve been feeling and all the shit i had to deal with. i am quite literally penniless, am back home where all the stress and crap i try to avoid throughout the semester just sits there, waiting and now i gotta do something about it. i’m just…lowkey not okay haha.

anyways, i’m happy to be writing again! i know this one in particular is probably the shortest thing i’ve ever posted BUT more will come, this is just a snippet of the shitshow that’s coming and i’m honestly so excited.

( 🏷️ ) permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx

( 🏷️ ) series taglist:

🖤 JEALOUS TIDES ( enhypen )

❛ These stories explore the subtle interplay of love, jealousy, and intimacy, capturing moments of tender connection and emotional depth between partners.

𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 4.8k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so much fun to write, I don’t think I’ve ever really written jealousy so I hope this was okay! This piece was requested by a lovely Anon! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! Please enjoy! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: All of the members get jealous, mentions of ex boyfriends, suspicions of infidelity (that aren’t true), Y/N is drunk in Sunghoon’s piece, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

All of the members are found below the cut!

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG.

It has become a cherished ritual for you and Heeseung, this daily stop at the coffee shop on your way to work. The comforting routine of warm brews and shared smiles, the gentle exchange of who would pay each time. This morning, however, the delicate balance shifted, with Heeseung weighed down by the fatigue of a sleepless night. His best friend, caught in the throes of heartbreak after discovering his girlfriend’s infidelity, had needed Heeseung's support through the dark hours, stealing away precious moments of rest. Though he was grateful to be there for his friend, the toll was evident in the heavy lids that barely managed to stay open.

As you stepped into the familiar warmth of the coffee shop, the scent of freshly ground beans filling the air, you noticed the weariness etched into his handsome features. With a soft smile, you nudged him toward one of the small, wooden tables nestled by the window, urging him to catch up on sleep while you took care of the order. Heeseung, too tired to protest, surrendered to your suggestion, his long frame slumping into the chair as his eyelids fluttered shut.

Yet, the bustling clatter of the morning rush proved too persistent, the cacophony of conversation and clinking cups refusing to let him drift away. Resigned, Heeseung allowed his gaze to follow you instead, taking in the way you absentmindedly played with your phone while waiting in line. Even through his exhaustion, a warmth spread through him, a tender affection that softened the edges of his fatigue. You were his comfort, his constant, the one who made even the most mundane moments feel special.

But then, a shift in the atmosphere caught his attention. He noticed the slight hesitation in your step, the subtle change in your demeanor as you approached the counter. His gaze sharpened, following the line of your sight until it landed on the new cashier—a man Heeseung hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t until you threw a nervous glance in his direction that recognition dawned on him, realizing this was someone from your past, a man you had once been close to before Heeseung had come into your life.

Heeseung tensed, his posture straightening as he tried to convince himself that you could handle the situation. After all, you had always been clear about your distaste for unnecessary interference, especially when you were more than capable of managing on your own. But as he watched the cashier’s smirk stretch across his face, the arrogant tilt of his head as he spoke to you, Heeseung felt a flicker of something darker ignite within him. His blood began to simmer, each second stretching longer as the interaction dragged on. The sound of your ex’s laughter, though distant, seemed to grate against his nerves, the sight of him chuckling at something you said only fanning the flames of jealousy.

Finally, when you moved off to the side to wait for the drinks, Heeseung couldn’t remain seated any longer. With a deliberate, casual stride, he made his way over to you, sliding an arm around your shoulders with practiced ease. His lips found your cheek, lingering there in a kiss that was firmer than usual, carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. It was a claim, a subtle declaration that needed no words.

You tilted your head to look at him, amusement dancing in your eyes as you chuckled softly, understanding the silent message. Heeseung didn’t need to say anything for you to know what he was feeling, the familiar pulse of his jealousy a comfort rather than a concern. You leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the way his presence enveloped you, a silent promise that no matter who came into your life, Heeseung was the one who would stay.

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG.

Jay had spent the evening crafting a perfect dinner, each detail a testament to his love for you. The table was adorned with your favorite flowers, their petals a soft blush against the polished wood. Candlelight flickered gently, casting a warm glow over the dishes he had carefully prepared—your favorite meal, made with precision and affection. He had envisioned this moment, the two of you sharing a quiet evening, the stresses of the day melting away with each bite and every shared glance.

But as the minutes ticked by, anticipation gave way to disappointment. The hands of the clock moved steadily past the agreed-upon time, and with each passing second, Jay’s heart grew heavier. This wasn’t the first time you had been late, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of foolishness for having hoped that tonight might be different. He had allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that you might arrive on time, that the evening he had so carefully planned would unfold as he had imagined.

You had been spending more and more time away from home since starting at the new location, your dedication to your work both admirable and disheartening. Jay understood the pressures you faced, the need to prove yourself in this new role, especially after your previous boss had spoken so highly of you. Yet, understanding didn’t ease the loneliness that had crept into the corners of your shared home, filling the space where your presence used to be. And then there was the matter of the coworker you often mentioned—a man Jay had never met, yet one who seemed to occupy your thoughts even during the rare moments you spent together.

Jay knew he should trust you, that there was no reason to doubt your loyalty. But the emptiness of the house, the silence that had settled between you, made it difficult to quell the flickers of jealousy that sparked in his chest. The knowledge that this man saw you daily, worked alongside you, shared moments that Jay could no longer claim, gnawed at him, feeding the insecurities he had tried so hard to suppress.

By the time you finally walked through the door, the meal Jay had prepared was cold, the remnants of his own portion long since cleared away. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight before you—the table set so beautifully, the candles now dimmed, the flowers beginning to wilt. The realization of what you had missed, of what Jay had been hoping for, hit you all at once, and guilt washed over you in waves. You hadn’t known why Jay had confirmed the time earlier, hadn’t understood the importance he had placed on it. But now, seeing the effort he had put into making the evening special, it was clear why he would be so hurt.

Jay, despite the disappointment that still lingered, found it impossible to remain angry with you. He knew your intentions hadn’t been to neglect him, that your absence wasn’t meant to hurt. With a soft sigh, he pushed aside his feelings, choosing instead to sit with you as you ate. He asked you about your day, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy, but when you mentioned your male coworker again, the one who seemed to occupy more of your time than Jay did, he couldn’t hide the way his expression twisted into a sulk.

You didn’t miss the change in his demeanor, the way his eyes darkened slightly, his voice losing its warmth. The realization dawned slowly, the pieces falling into place as you finally understood the depth of Jay’s feelings. He wasn’t just disappointed in your lateness—he felt neglected, pushed aside by the demands of your work and the presence of this man who had become a fixture in your life.

Without hesitation, you reached across the table, taking Jay’s hand in yours. You offered him a sincere apology, your voice soft and full of regret. You explained that the coworker you had been spending so much time with was an older man, closer to your father’s age, with a family of his own—a man who was set to retire soon, planning to spend his remaining years traveling with his wife. There had never been anything to worry about, nothing that should have made Jay feel threatened or overlooked.

Hearing your words, Jay felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed by a sense of foolishness for having allowed his jealousy to fester. He looked at you, really looked at you, and saw the love and sincerity in your eyes, the way your hand held his so tightly, as if grounding him in the truth of your relationship. Without another word, he leaned across the table, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both passionate and tender, a silent promise to do better by you as you had promised to do better by him.

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN.

You and Jake found yourselves navigating the crowded aisles of a bustling toy store, the colorful shelves lined with endless possibilities for your niece’s birthday gift. The weekend rush was in full swing, the noise and chaos of excited children and stressed parents a bit overwhelming for you. But Jake, ever attuned to your feelings, stayed close by your side, his presence a steady anchor in the sea of commotion. His gentle touches and reassuring words kept you grounded as the two of you deliberated over the perfect present.

After what felt like an eternity of sifting through options, you finally settled on a toy that you knew your niece would love—a bright, cheerful dollhouse complete with tiny, intricate furniture. A sense of relief washed over you as you turned to share your choice with Jake, only to find yourself face-to-face with a familiar figure from your past.

There, standing just a few feet away, was your old high school crush, the one who had once been the center of your daydreams and whispered confessions. Memories flooded back—the shy smiles, the secret glances, the promises of a future that never materialized. Jake knew all about him, of course. You’d told him about the mutual crush that had fizzled out before it had the chance to truly begin.

As you greeted your former crush and introduced him to Jake, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in Jake’s demeanor. Though his smile remained polite, there was an unmistakable tension in his posture, a quiet but palpable possessiveness that hadn’t been there moments before. Jake’s hand found its place on your waist, his fingers gently but firmly gripping you, as if to silently stake his claim. Even as he exchanged pleasantries with your old friend, there was a steely coolness in his gaze, a protective edge that made his thoughts as clear as day.

The conversation, though brief, carried a weight that wasn’t lost on you. You could feel Jake’s gaze on you, the way his hold tightened just slightly whenever your former crush smiled at you or mentioned something from the past. There was no mistaking the jealousy simmering beneath Jake’s calm exterior, a jealousy that spoke not of insecurity, but of his deep, unwavering affection for you.

Eventually, the interaction came to an end, and you and Jake made your way toward the checkout, the toy now safely in hand. The tension from earlier still lingered in the air between you, a quiet, unspoken thing that seemed to cling to Jake like a shadow. As you waited in line, you couldn’t resist teasing him, your fingers playfully poking his cheek.

“You’re so jealous,” you murmured, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you watched Jake’s expression shift into a pout. His lower lip jutted out slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging downward in a way that was both endearing and unmistakably pouty.

Jake’s eyes met yours, and despite his best efforts to maintain his sulk, you could see the flicker of warmth there, the way his love for you melted away any remnants of his earlier possessiveness. He huffed softly, his pout deepening as if to insist on his innocence, but you both knew the truth.

With a tender smile, you leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek—a silent reassurance that you were his, and always would be. Jake’s pout softened, his lips curving into a small, reluctant smile as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a brief but comforting embrace. The momentary jealousy faded away, leaving behind only the warmth of your shared connection, stronger and more secure than ever.

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON.

The bar was alive with a pulse of its own, the thumping bass reverberating through the packed space, and the air thick with the mingled scents of sweat, alcohol, and excitement. Sunghoon’s gaze never strayed far from you, his eyes following your every move as you danced with unbridled joy among your friends. Your laughter rang out above the music, and the way you swayed to the rhythm, lost in the moment, brought a soft smile to his lips. He had promised to keep an eye on you tonight, and even as he stepped away to fetch another drink at your request, his thoughts remained with you, ensuring your safety while you enjoyed yourself.

As Sunghoon waited at the bar, watching the bartender craft your drink, a flicker of unease settled in his chest. His attention was drawn to a man who had sidled up to you on the dance floor, his eyes filled with an intention that Sunghoon didn’t like one bit. At first, the conversation between you and this stranger seemed harmless, but it quickly became apparent that you were far too intoxicated to notice the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he inched closer and closer until he was practically invading your personal space.

Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed as he observed the man, his protective instincts flaring to life. The crowd pressed in around you, making it hard to discern where the dance ended, and where the unwelcome intrusion began. The man’s body language grew bolder, his movements suggestive as he began to grind against you, all while you remained blissfully unaware, your laughter bubbling over as you continued to chat, oblivious to the stranger’s intentions.

Without a second thought, Sunghoon abandoned his place at the bar, anger surging through him as he pushed his way through the throng of people. His only focus was on reaching you, each step fueled by the urgency to protect you from the man who had crossed an unspoken line. He shoved past countless bodies, ignoring the irritated glances and muttered complaints, until he finally wedged himself between you and the stranger, his tall frame casting a shadow over the man.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sunghoon’s voice was cold, his words laced with a dangerous edge as he fixed the man with a glare that could cut through steel. The stranger raised his hands in a gesture of mock innocence, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips that only served to further ignite Sunghoon’s anger.

“Relax, man, we were just talking,” the man slurred, his breath reeking of alcohol. The scent hit Sunghoon like a wall, and he recoiled inwardly, a look of disgust crossing his features.

Behind him, you seemed to finally catch on to the tension, peeking around Sunghoon’s broad shoulders to see what was going on. Your fingers clutched at the hem of his shirt, seeking balance in your unsteady state, and the moment your eyes met his, Sunghoon felt a rush of protectiveness overwhelm him. The stranger’s gaze flicked between you and Sunghoon, and for a brief moment, a silent battle played out between the two men, communicated through nothing but a clash of determined stares. Eventually, the stranger relented, turning on his heel and disappearing into the crowd with a dismissive shrug.

As Sunghoon turned back to you, he was met with your drunken giggles, a sound that, despite the situation, brought a smile to his face. You looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, and though your words were playful, there was a glimmer of awareness behind them. “He was such a nice guy!” you exclaimed, though your tone betrayed that you knew better, that you were fully aware the man was anything but.

Sunghoon couldn’t help the soft scoff that escaped him, rolling his eyes in amusement at your feigned innocence. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, his hands finding their place on your hips, a protective gesture as he pulled you closer, grounding you in his presence.

You pouted up at him, poking his chest with your index finger as if trying to make a point. “You,” you accused, your voice light with teasing, “were just being jealous.”

A chuckle rumbled low in Sunghoon’s throat, his eyes softening as he looked down at you. “Yes, I was,” he admitted without hesitation, a small, tender smile playing on his lips. “I don’t like these men anywhere near my pretty baby.”

The possessiveness in his voice was tempered by the warmth of his affection, and as he held you close, the noise of the bar seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world. With Sunghoon by your side, the night felt safer, more secure, and you knew, without a doubt, that you were cherished beyond measure.

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO.

The restaurant was winding down, the chatter of other patrons fading as the hour grew late, yet the table filled with Seonwoo's friends remained vibrant with laughter and easy conversation. It was your first time meeting them, and the warmth of their welcome had eased the tension that had been bubbling within you all evening. As the night unfolded, you felt yourself seamlessly slipping into their tight-knit circle, a sense of belonging washing over you with every shared joke and smile. Seonwoo, ever attuned to your emotions, seemed just as pleased with how the night had turned out. He glanced at you often, his eyes brimming with affection, his hand a comforting presence on your knee beneath the table.

But there was one among them who didn’t quite fit. A newcomer, recently integrated into the group through his relationship with one of Seonwoo’s close friends, who had an air of arrogance that Seonwoo had warned you about on the way to the restaurant. Seonwoo had expressed his reservations about this guy, mentioning how he found him to be a bit too self-assured, as if he didn’t truly appreciate the incredible person he was dating. After spending most of the evening sitting directly across from him, you began to understand the source of Seonwoo’s disdain. The guy’s jokes were dull, lacking in humor, and yet, in an effort to make a good impression, you forced out a laugh, pretending to be more entertained than you actually were.

Each time you laughed, you caught Seonwoo’s reaction out of the corner of your eye. His smile would falter, his gaze sliding toward you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief that nearly made you laugh for real. The subtle squeeze of his hand on your knee, followed by a quick glance of distaste directed at the guy, only added to your amusement. Seonwoo’s unspoken commentary was as clear as day to you, and you found it difficult to suppress your growing desire to tease him just a little more.

However, your amusement quickly turned to surprise when, after you let out another forced chuckle at one of the guy’s uninspired jokes, Seonwoo suddenly turned to you, his expression now serious, his eyes narrowed with a hint of jealousy. “It wasn’t that funny,” he remarked, his tone laced with a quiet intensity that made you pause. The seriousness in his gaze deepened as he added, almost in a pout, “Please don’t feed his ego. If you want to laugh that bad, then I’ll make you laugh.”

The sudden shift in Seonwoo’s demeanor caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped you, your amusement bubbling over at the sight of your normally composed boyfriend acting so possessive. Realizing that Seonwoo wasn’t joking, you felt a surge of affection for him, and you couldn’t resist the urge to close the distance between you. Pressing your hand to his cheek, you gently turned his face toward you and planted a playful, lingering kiss on his other cheek, your lips brushing against his skin with deliberate tenderness.

“You’re my only funny guy, don’t worry,” you whispered reassuringly, your voice light and teasing, as if to soothe the jealousy simmering beneath Seonwoo’s exterior. You could feel the eyes of the group on you, and though you knew the guy across the table was likely feeling flustered, you didn’t care. Your focus was solely on Seonwoo, the warmth of your kiss lingering on his cheek, a silent promise that no one could ever take his place in your heart.

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON.

With your car out of commission for the past few days, Jungwon had eagerly taken on the role of your chauffeur, driving you to work in the mornings and picking you up in the evenings while your car was being repaired. It was a small favor that he was more than happy to do, especially since it meant a few extra moments spent in your company, moments he cherished more than he let on.

Today, however, was different. Jungwon had taken extra care with his appearance, freshly showered and dressed in his best, because today was your birthday, and he had meticulously planned an evening filled with fun activities to celebrate you. Instead of taking you straight to your apartment, he had something special in mind—his place, where he had a dress waiting for you, one he had carefully chosen for the surprise party he had arranged at your apartment. The thought of the surprise sent a thrill through him, anticipation bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

As he pulled up in front of your office building, Jungwon was surprised to see you already waiting for him, though what truly caught his attention was the oversized basket you were struggling to hold. It was overflowing with flowers, stuffed animals, balloons, and smaller gifts, a colorful and slightly ridiculous assortment that looked more cumbersome than anything. Despite the awkward load, you managed a bright smile and a small wave before making your way over to the car.

Jungwon wasted no time, quickly getting out to help you. He gently took the basket from your arms, his lips brushing against your cheek in a quick kiss before he shoved the basket into the backseat. He then opened the passenger door for you, waiting until you were safely seated before closing it and returning to his own side.

As he drove off, the curiosity got the better of him. He glanced at you, his voice carrying a hint of suspicion as he asked, "Who gave you that?" Even before you answered, he had a sinking feeling he knew the source of the grand gesture. There was a particular coworker of yours who had been blatantly infatuated with you for ages. No matter how often Jungwon made his presence known at your work events, clearly marking his territory as your boyfriend, this guy remained undeterred in his pursuit.

When you pursed your lips, a telltale sign that you were confirming his suspicions, Jungwon sighed, a wave of irritation washing over him. For a moment, he considered turning the car around and confronting the guy, but he held back, knowing it wouldn’t help matters and would only upset you. The gift was extravagant, an obvious attempt to outshine him, and all Jungwon wanted to do was toss the whole basket out the window. But he refrained, biting back his frustration.

“It’s lovely,” Jungwon said, though his voice betrayed the irritation he was trying to mask. You, ever perceptive, couldn’t resist mimicking his deeper tone, lowering your voice to mock his words. Your playful humor elicited a laugh from him, though the jealousy still simmered beneath the surface, not easily quelled.

Sensing his lingering unease, you reached over, threading your fingers through his hair in a gesture of affection. “You look so handsome today,” you complimented him, your voice warm and genuine, “and you smell amazing.”

The corners of Jungwon’s lips lifted into a genuine smile, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “You’re my beautiful, handsome lover,” you continued, your tone softening as you leaned closer, “the only one I think of returning to throughout my long days at work. I promise.”

Your words worked like a balm, soothing the last remnants of his jealousy. Jungwon glanced at you, his eyes softening as the truth of your affection settled in his heart. The grand gestures of others paled in comparison to the connection you shared, a bond that was far deeper and more meaningful than any extravagant gift.

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated your bedroom, casting gentle shadows as the faint dialogues of a clichéd rom-com filled the air. You and Riki, however, were far too engrossed in your own little world, huddled together with his arms wrapped snugly around you as you scrolled through TikToks on your phone. His head rested comfortably atop yours, your back pressed firmly against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath.

Riki's thumbs traced idle patterns on your stomach, a subtle gesture that made you feel impossibly close to him. Every time a funny video popped up, his laughter rumbled through his chest, sending soft vibrations through you that were too contagious to resist. You found yourself smiling and chuckling along, not just at the videos but at the simple joy of being wrapped up in his warmth.

After a while, though, a notification from Instagram broke through your shared bubble of contentment — a message request from someone you didn’t know. At first, you intended to ignore it, dismissing it as just another random message. But Riki, ever the curious one, leaned over and tapped on the notification to open the chat.

The message was as tacky as they come: 'Hey beautiful, I see you’ve got a boyfriend but I promise you that I can take you places he couldn’t even dream of.' You snorted at the sheer audacity of it all, finding the entire situation laughable. But Riki wasn’t as amused. His disbelief was palpable as he scoffed, his arms tightening slightly around you.

“Who the hell is this guy?” Riki muttered, more to himself than to you, his eyes narrowing at the bold words on the screen.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, trying to downplay the situation, though you couldn’t help but be a little entertained by his reaction. “He must’ve followed me at some point.”

Riki scoffed again, clearly unimpressed, as he began to scroll through the guy’s profile with an intensity that made you stifle a laugh. His fingers moved with a purpose, inspecting every detail as if he could somehow glean the stranger’s intentions from the curated images on his feed.

“Do you always get messages like these?” Riki asked, incredulity lacing his voice as he zoomed in on the guy’s profile picture. “The fucking audacity of this guy.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at how seriously he was taking the whole thing. “I mean, sometimes,” you admitted, a smile tugging at your lips. “They usually happen shortly after I make a post, honestly.”

Riki’s expression darkened as he navigated back to your profile, zeroing in on your most recent post — a photo dump of your summer adventures, half of which were filled with couple photos of you and him. It was clear that you were taken, yet here was this guy, brazen enough to think he could swoop in.

“Well, I don’t like that at all,” Riki huffed, his annoyance evident as he stared at the photos. “What made that guy think he can ‘take you places I could only dream of’? What the hell, honestly?”

His irritation was both endearing and amusing, and you couldn’t help but giggle again, shifting slightly so that your chin rested on his chest. You glanced up, finally catching the full extent of the jealousy etched onto his handsome features. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, and there was a glint in his eyes that made it clear he wasn’t taking this lightly.

Riki eventually dropped your phone onto the bed with a dismissive huff before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss that was anything but casual. It was firm, almost possessive, as if he needed to remind you — and himself — that you were his and his alone.

When he finally pulled away, you couldn’t help but laugh softly at the seriousness in his expression. “Please don’t forget you’re mine and only mine,” he said, his voice low and earnest.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection as you reached up to cup his face. “How could I ever forget?” you whispered back, sealing your words with another kiss that left no room for doubt.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @d-dilemma (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

────* ˚ ✦ CAUGHT IN THE ACT ( stray kids )

❛ The reactions of each member of Stray Kids' Hyung line when they're caught kissing you by another member.

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.0k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 32 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was honestly so much fun to write! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Getting caught kissing, established relationship for every member, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

HYUNG LINE | MAKNAE LINE

방찬 ── BANG CHAN.

You stepped into the familiar recording studio, the dim lights casting a soft glow on the walls adorned with musical equipment and notes scribbled in haste. A paper bag filled with snacks and drinks dangled from your hand, its weight a comforting reminder of your routine visits. Your smile radiates warmth as your eyes meet Chan's, who sat hunched over the mixing console. His gaze lifted, revealing a flicker of gratitude despite the heavy shadows of exhaustion under his eyes.

He returned your smile, a faint but genuine curve of his lips that spoke volumes about his weariness. You chose silence, understanding the unspoken need for peace in this creative sanctuary. With gentle steps, you crossed the room, your presence a soothing balm to his fatigue. Leaning down, you placed a tender kiss on his head, a simple gesture of affection that momentarily lifted the burden from his shoulders.

Reaching into the bag, you retrieved a pack of chips and a bottle, offering them to Chan with a reassuring touch. He accepted them gratefully, his fingers brushing against yours in a brief but intimate exchange. You then settled into your usual spot on the leather couch behind him, its familiar creases and scent a comfort in this shared space. With your phone in hand, you prepared to keep yourself entertained, a quiet guardian of his creative process. The studio's ambient hum and the soft rustle of snack wrappers became the soundtrack to this intimate moment, a testament to the silent support that flowed between you.

This had become your usual routine—a cherished ritual that intertwined your lives with comforting regularity. Every other day, you would find yourself here, in the sanctuary of the recording studio, offering your quiet companionship while he immersed himself in his work. Your role was not merely to be present but to eventually coax him away from his intense focus, ensuring he returned home with you for the rest he so desperately needed.

Tonight was no different. You nestled into the familiar embrace of the leather couch, your fingers idly scrolling through social media, a soft glow from your phone illuminating your face. The ambient sounds of the studio enveloped you, a symphony of creativity and dedication. The rhythmic tapping of buttons, the soft click of switches, and the occasional hum of equipment blended into a soothing background noise.

Every now and then, a sigh of frustration would escape Chan's lips, a testament to his tireless pursuit of perfection. You glanced up occasionally, observing the furrow of his brow, the determination etched in his features. His passion was palpable, filling the room with an electric energy that made your heart swell with pride and tenderness.

Despite the ambient hum and your digital distraction, you were attuned to his every move, ready to step in when the time came. The silent understanding between you both was a testament to the deep bond you shared—a bond forged in these moments of mutual support and quiet companionship. This was your routine, a beautiful dance of dedication and care, ensuring that amidst the whirlwind of his creative storm, he found a safe harbor in your presence.

Eventually, Chan wheeled around in his chair, his gaze locking onto you as you lay sprawled across the couch, indulging in a handful of sour gummies. His eyes softened, the weariness momentarily giving way to a tender appreciation for your presence. For a brief moment, he remained still, simply observing you with a small, tired smile.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lifted himself from his seat, the soft creak of the chair punctuating the silence. Each step he took toward you seemed to carry the weight of his exhaustion, yet there was a lightness in his eyes as he approached. Without warning, he let his body drape over yours, the suddenness of it eliciting a startled yelp from your lips.

His warmth enveloped you, the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with the sweet tang of the gummies you were eating. You quickly dissolved into giggles at his playful actions, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso in a protective embrace. His presence was a comforting weight, grounding you both in this shared moment of intimacy.

The world outside the studio walls faded away, leaving just the two of you cocooned in a bubble of tranquility. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours, a rhythmic reminder of his presence. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his back, offering silent reassurance as he melted into your embrace. This was your sanctuary, a haven where exhaustion and stress gave way to love and connection, a beautifully ordinary moment made extraordinary by the simple act of being together.

“Break time?” you asked softly, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet room. Chan responded with a low grunt, his exhaustion evident in the simplicity of his reply. A light giggle escaped your lips, the sound a soft, comforting echo in the studio.

Reaching up, your fingers threaded through the strands of his hair, finding their way to the back of his head. With practiced ease, you began to scratch gently, your touch tender and soothing. Almost immediately, a contented hum rumbled from his chest, a sound that spoke of deep appreciation and relief.

His eyes fluttered closed, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away under your gentle ministrations. You could feel the subtle shifts in his posture, each exhalation a testament to the comfort he found in your presence. This simple act, a small gesture of care, held a profound intimacy that words could not capture.

The room seemed to cocoon you both, the dim light casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. Each scratch of your fingers was a lullaby, a tender reminder of the bond you shared. In this moment, amidst the ambient hum of the studio and the quiet hum of his contentment, time seemed to slow, allowing you to savor the tranquility of your connection.

His breathing deepened, a silent testament to the trust he placed in you, and you continued your gentle caress, your heart swelling with affection. This was your sanctuary, a place where words were unnecessary, and the simple act of touch spoke volumes.

After a while, you were almost surprised to hear him speak. His voice broke the silence, soft and drowsy, since you had been convinced he had fallen asleep on top of you.

His breathing had slowed, and his weight had settled comfortably against you, creating a warm, enveloping cocoon. The gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours had lulled you into a tranquil state, where the world outside seemed a distant memory.

“Good day today?” he murmured, his words a tender vibration against your skin. The question carried a quiet intimacy, a bridge between the waking world and the serene bubble you both inhabited.

You blinked, the unexpectedness of his voice pulling you from your reverie. A smile curled at your lips as you looked down at him, your fingers stilling momentarily in his hair. The soft light from the studio cast a gentle glow on his face, highlighting the subtle lines of fatigue that framed his eyes.

“It was alright,” you answered with a weak shrug, your eyes remaining fixed on the ceiling. The subtle patterns in the plaster seemed to shift and dance as you reveled in the closeness between the two of you, his warmth a comforting presence against your body.

As you lay there, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift, the quiet intimacy of the moment creating a sanctuary from the world outside. The soft rise and fall of his breathing against you was a soothing rhythm, grounding you in the present.

“I mostly kept to myself today,” you continued, your voice a soft murmur in the tranquil room. “It just felt like such a long day for some reason.”

Your words hung in the air, a quiet confession that carried the weariness of the hours you had endured. Each moment of solitude, each minute that had dragged on, seemed to dissipate now in the comforting embrace of his presence.

Chan shifted, adjusting his position to place his weight on his forearms, which were now on either side of your head. This allowed him to lean back slightly, creating just enough space to gaze down at your face. The closeness of his presence, combined with the tenderness in his eyes, sent a flutter through your heart.

The dim light of the studio cast gentle shadows across his features, softening the lines of exhaustion and highlighting the quiet strength in his expression. His gaze held a mixture of empathy and understanding, a silent acknowledgment of the weariness you both shared.

“It really did feel like an unnecessarily long day for me, too,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that resonated in the small space between you. The words carried a weight of shared experience, a bond forged through mutual understanding and silent support.

His eyes traced the contours of your face, lingering on the subtle nuances of your expression. You could feel the connection between you deepening, each unspoken thought and emotion passing effortlessly between you. His proximity, the warmth of his body, and the gentle cadence of his words created a cocoon of intimacy that enveloped you both.

As you looked up at him, you could see the flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a mirror to your own feelings. The shared acknowledgment of the day's trials brought a sense of comfort, a reminder that you were not alone in your struggles.

The room seemed to fade into the background, the ambient sounds of the studio becoming a distant hum. All that mattered in this moment was the quiet exchange between you, a sanctuary of understanding and support. His presence, so close and so tender, was a balm to the fatigue that had weighed heavily on you both throughout the day.

You reached up, your fingers gently brushing against his cheek, a silent gesture of reassurance and affection. His eyes softened even further, and a small, grateful smile played at the corners of his lips. In this moment, the long day seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of your connection and the promise of shared solace.

The hand that had been tenderly scratching his hair now shifted to cup his cheek, your fingers tracing the delicate curve of his jaw. The touch was gentle, filled with a warmth that only deepened the connection between you. Chan immediately leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the contact, a soft smile gracing his lips.

His skin felt warm against your palm, and you could sense the quiet gratitude in the way he pressed closer, finding comfort in the simple gesture. The room around you seemed to hold its breath, the ambient hum of the studio fading into the background as the moment stretched between you.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Chan leaned down, his breath mingling with yours in the intimate space. His eyes met yours for a fleeting second, a silent exchange of affection and understanding, before he pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead. The contact was tender, imbued with a sweetness that made your heart swell.

As his lips brushed your skin, your eyes fluttered closed, the world around you dissolving into a haze of warmth and closeness. The kiss lingered, a silent promise of care and support that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. You could feel the soft exhalation of his breath, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the unspoken words that filled the space between you.

Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into an eternity of quiet connection. Your senses were heightened, every detail of the moment imprinted in your memory—the gentle pressure of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the soothing cadence of his presence. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated intimacy, a sanctuary of love and understanding that transcended the weariness of the day.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes opened slowly, meeting yours with a gaze that spoke volumes. There was a softness there, a tenderness that mirrored your own feelings, and in that shared look, you found a renewed sense of strength and comfort. The weight of the day seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the promise of more moments like this, filled with love and quiet understanding.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, his voice a gentle whisper that seemed to reverberate through the quiet studio. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, seeking solace in the warmth and familiarity of your embrace. His breath, warm and steady, brushed against your skin, sending a shiver of tenderness down your spine.

You could feel the sincerity in his words, each syllable carrying the weight of his longing and affection. The closeness of his body against yours, the way he nestled into you as if finding his way home, spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings. It was a quiet confession, one that wrapped around your heart and made it swell with love.

“All I could do was watch the time until you finally joined me here,” he continued, his voice a soft rumble that seemed to melt into the air around you. His words painted a vivid picture of his anticipation, the minutes and hours stretching out endlessly as he waited for the moment you would walk through the door.

The imagery of his longing played in your mind, each tick of the clock echoing his silent wish for your presence. You imagined him glancing at the time, his thoughts drifting to you with each passing minute, the studio filled with the hum of his work yet missing the comforting presence that only you could bring.

Your hand moved to gently stroke his hair, your fingers weaving through the soft strands as you offered silent reassurance. The tactile connection was a balm to both your souls, a physical manifestation of the love that flowed between you. His body relaxed further into yours, the tension of the day gradually melting away as he found peace in your embrace.

The room around you seemed to fade into the background, the dim light casting gentle shadows that danced along the walls. It was as if the world had shrunk to encompass only the two of you, a cocoon of intimacy where time moved at its own pace. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart against yours, created a symphony of togetherness that filled the space with warmth and connection.

As you held him, your heart echoed his sentiments. The hours apart had felt like a lifetime, each moment tinged with the anticipation of being reunited. Now, in the quiet sanctity of the studio, you reveled in the simple joy of being close, of sharing the same breath and heartbeat. This was your haven, a place where love and longing intertwined, creating a tapestry of moments that were as beautiful as they were fleeting.

A blush crept onto your cheeks, a rosy bloom spreading warmth through your skin as his words settled in your heart. Your smile widened, a reflection of the joy and affection that welled up within you. As Chan leaned back to face you once more, his eyes met yours with a gaze that spoke of longing and love.

Without hesitation, you leaned up to capture his lips in a kiss, the movement swift and eager. The initial touch was tender, a sweet brush of connection, but almost unconsciously, you found yourself deepening the kiss. The world around you seemed to blur, the boundaries of the studio fading into insignificance as you lost yourself in the moment.

Chan responded with equal passion, his lips moving against yours in a dance of fervor and intimacy. Each kiss, each caress, was a silent declaration of the emotions that words could not fully convey. The heat of the kiss ignited a spark that spread through your veins, a fiery rush of desire and affection that left you breathless.

As your lips melded together, you could feel his fingers busying themselves, threading through your hair with gentle yet deliberate movements. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, each touch a soothing balm and an electric thrill all at once. His fingertips traced patterns along your scalp, weaving through the strands of your hair in a tender, almost reverent manner.

The kiss deepened further, your senses heightening with every passing second. You could taste the lingering sweetness of his breath, feel the warmth of his skin, and hear the faint rustle of clothing as you both shifted closer. The world outside ceased to exist, the only reality the intoxicating blend of your shared breaths and the soft hum of the studio in the background.

Time seemed to stretch, each moment expanding to hold the fullness of your connection. Your heart raced, its beat a rhythmic echo of the passion that thrummed between you. The kiss was a symphony of emotions, a harmonious blend of love, desire, and an unspoken promise of togetherness.

Just as the kiss began to deepen, an unexpected sound shattered the moment—the door creaking open with an almost comical slowness. The intrusion was abrupt, and both of you were startled from your intimate cocoon. Chan, reacting instinctively, tried to detach himself from you with haste, his sudden movement sending him rolling off the couch.

The transition was less than graceful; he landed rather harshly on the floor beside you, the impact eliciting a low groan from him. He grimaced, immediately starting to rub his lower back in an attempt to soothe the jolt of pain from the fall. The couch, once a haven of warmth and affection, now stood empty and slightly disheveled, a testament to the sudden disruption.

Your eyes shifted to the doorway, where Jisung stood frozen for a split second, his own eyes wide with shock at the scene before him. The surprise in his expression was fleeting, quickly giving way to a playful smirk. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively as he leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze dancing with mischievous amusement.

The contrast between the intense moment you had shared and the lightheartedness of Jisung's entrance was jarring. As the initial surprise subsided, the atmosphere shifted from one of intimate connection to one of awkward hilarity. The room, now filled with the soft chuckles of Jisung and the embarrassed, lingering blush on your cheeks, felt distinctly different.

You and Chan exchanged glances, your faces flushed with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. Chan’s attempt to regain composure while still rubbing his sore back added to the scene’s comedic effect. In the midst of the disruption, the warmth of the moment seemed to dissipate, replaced by the easy camaraderie of Jisung’s teasing presence.

“I can come back later,” Jisung said, his voice carrying an unmistakable hint of playful suggestion. The words lingered in the air, charged with an amused undertone that made it clear he was fully aware of the scene he had just interrupted.

You responded with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, a playful gesture that contrasted sharply with the initial embarrassment. Your smile, though slightly flushed, held a warmth of shared amusement. The gesture was both a dismissal of the teasing and a silent acknowledgment of the lighthearted banter Jisung was introducing.

Chan, still seated on the floor, let out a soft scoff, the sound a mixture of mild frustration and reluctant humor. His expression, though slightly exasperated, softened as he met Jisung’s teasing gaze. The contrast between the seriousness of the moment and the levity Jisung brought was palpable, and Chan’s reaction spoke to the blend of embarrassment and begrudging acceptance of the interruption.

“Did you need something?” Chan inquired, his voice a mixture of curiosity and residual embarrassment as he pushed himself up from the floor. With a slight wince and a careful stretch, he made his way back to his chair, resettling into the spot he had vacated moments before.

Jisung stepped into the studio, his presence marked by the purposeful stride and the iPad clutched in his hand. He took a seat in one of the empty chairs, his movements deliberate and focused, a contrast to the playful banter that had just filled the room. The iPad, held like a cherished artifact, seemed to hum with the promise of creative endeavor.

“Yeah,” Jisung began, his tone shifting from teasing to serious. The change was palpable, and the lightness that had accompanied his entrance melted away, replaced by a more earnest demeanor. He glanced down at the device in his hands, the weight of his words evident in the subtle tension of his posture.

“I just finished writing this song,” he continued, his voice laced with a hint of frustration. “I thought I might ask you for some feedback.” His gaze met Chan’s with a mix of anticipation and concern. “I’m struggling to find the melody for it, though.”

The request hung in the air, a testament to Jisung’s dedication and the challenge he faced. The room, once charged with the intimacy of your earlier exchange, now buzzed with the promise of collaboration and the earnest pursuit of creative refinement. Chan’s expression shifted to one of thoughtful consideration, his earlier amusement giving way to the focused attention that Jisung’s request deserved.

As Chan prepared to listen, the studio seemed to take on a new energy, one of shared purpose and artistic exploration. The casual comfort of the space, with its soft lighting and the scattered remnants of your earlier moment, now became a haven for the exchange of creative ideas and constructive feedback.

이민호 ── LEE MINHO.

The only sounds that punctuated the tranquil evening were the soft clinks of ceramic and glass as they met and departed in gentle harmony. Minho's hands moved deftly in the soapy water, each dish emerging clean from the frothy embrace of the sink. He would pass the polished plates and gleaming utensils to you with practiced ease, and you would then guide them through a final rinse, the clear water cascading over them like a delicate waterfall.

This rhythmic dance of choreographed movements unfolded in a serene cocoon of silence, where each clink and splash became a soothing symphony of domestic tranquility. The dim light from the overhead fixture cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the quiet intimacy of the moment.

You leaned closer, resting your head lightly upon Minho’s shoulder, finding solace in the gentle rise and fall of his breaths. The simple act of watching him, so absorbed in his task, filled you with a deep sense of contentment. The harmony of your shared routine seemed to weave a thread of comfort through the evening, binding you both in a quiet, unspoken connection.

Minho had prepared a sumptuous feast, each dish a testament to his culinary prowess. The table was adorned with a vibrant spread of delectable creations, each plate a masterpiece in its own right. As the meal began, the room was alive with a symphony of laughter and lively chatter, the air thick with the aroma of spices and savory delights. The members gathered around, their faces illuminated by the warm light of the overhead lamp, their voices weaving a tapestry of animated conversations.

But now, as the final morsels were savored and the last sips of wine enjoyed, a tranquil silence had settled over the room. The clamor of exuberant laughter had given way to a peaceful hush, the once-bustling table now a haven of contented quiet. The lingering scents of the meal mingled with the soft hum of satisfaction, creating an atmosphere of serene afterglow. Everyone leaned back in their chairs, basking in the lingering warmth of good food and even better company.

The plan had been simple and straightforward: you would take on the task of washing the dishes while Minho, who had diligently prepared the meal, would enjoy a well-deserved rest. Yet Minho, with his unwavering determination, had other ideas. His refusal to let you tackle the chore alone was as steadfast as it was endearing.

With a warm, insistent smile, Minho proposed that you both share the task, transforming the mundane chore into a collaborative effort. His eyes sparkled with a mix of stubbornness and affection, a look that left little room for argument. Despite your initial reluctance and the mild exasperation that accompanied it, you found yourself yielding to his gentle insistence.

The prospect of working side by side, immersed in the rhythmic clinks of plates and the soothing warmth of soapy water, began to take on a new charm. Minho’s determination to be your partner in this small yet significant task softened your resistance, allowing you to embrace the shared experience with a touch of reluctant but genuine fondness.

As Minho passed you the final cup he had washed, the delicate glass cool and smooth in your hands, he turned his attention to rinsing his own hands. The kitchen was bathed in a soft, amber glow from the overhead light, casting gentle shadows that danced across the room. He dried his hands with a kitchen towel, the fabric absorbing the last traces of moisture with a quiet efficiency.

Watching you with a tender gaze, his sharp features softened into an expression of serene affection. The contrast of his usual intensity with this gentle demeanor created a moment of profound intimacy. As you felt the lightest brush of his lips on the crown of your head, a shy smile unfurled on your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the warmth and closeness between you.

After you had finished rinsing the last cup, Minho reached out, offering you the towel he had used. The gesture, simple yet laden with care, spoke volumes of his desire to share this small, endearing ritual. His touch lingered with a quiet intimacy, as if the act of handing you the towel was another way of weaving a thread of connection into the fabric of your shared evening.

"Dinner was delicious, as always, my love," you murmured with a contented sigh, letting the kitchen towel slip from your fingers and fall gently to the floor. You moved closer, enfolding him in a tender embrace. Your arms wrapped around his lean torso, drawing him into the warmth of your affection.

Resting your chin on his chest, you tilted your head upwards to gaze at him with adoration. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek provided a soothing backdrop to your heartfelt gratitude. "Thank you," you whispered softly, your voice a tender caress against the quiet of the evening. In that moment, the simple act of holding each other spoke volumes, a silent testament to the depth of your shared love and appreciation.

A playful twinkle sparkled in his eyes as he looked at you, his smile radiating warmth and affection. His fingers, gentle and reassuring, wove through your hair with a tender touch, as if savoring the moment of closeness.

"I’m glad you enjoyed the meal," he murmured, his voice a soft caress against the quiet. The sincerity of his words was mirrored in the affectionate way he stroked your hair, his touch both soothing and intimate. In that shared, tranquil moment, his gaze and gentle gestures spoke volumes about the care and joy he found in seeing you content.

What began as a fleeting, tender kiss on your cheek had swiftly transformed into a fervent embrace of lips. The gentle touch of his lips ignited a spark, leading to a passionate kiss where your tongues engaged in their well-practiced dance, exploring and intertwining with a fluid grace.

His hands cradled your face with an exquisite tenderness, as though he feared that any more pressure might shatter the delicate connection between you. The way his fingers caressed your cheeks, with such gentle reverence, conveyed a deep sense of reverence and care. Each touch seemed to convey an unspoken promise, a silent pledge to cherish and protect the fragile beauty of the moment.

“Oh—!” A sudden, startled yelp pierced the air, shattering the intimate bubble that had enveloped you and Minho. Heads whipped around in unison to find Yongbok standing at the kitchen entrance, his expression a mix of surprise and awkward hesitation.

He lingered at the threshold, caught between the decision to either step into the room or retreat to the safety of the living room. His stance, poised mid-step with uncertainty written across his face, underscored the unexpected intrusion into what had been a moment of tender privacy.

"Ah," Minho exhaled with a playful whine, his head tilting to the side as if weighed down by exaggerated exasperation. He squeezed his eyes shut, the corners of his mouth curving into a mock frown that was both endearing and dramatic.

"I can’t seem to have a moment of solitude in here," he lamented, his tone laced with a humorous undertone. The theatrics of his gesture and the melodramatic sigh added a layer of lightheartedness to the interruption, making his feigned annoyance all the more charming.

A deep blush colored Yongbok’s cheeks as he bowed his head slightly, offering a silent apology that spoke volumes. His embarrassment was palpable, yet he moved with a purposeful grace, stepping into the kitchen with a mix of shyness and determination.

He made a beeline for the freezer, his movements quick and somewhat furtive. With a swift motion, he retrieved a brand new tub of ice cream, the cool container a stark contrast to the warmth of his cheeks. As he slipped back toward the door, his voice broke through the quiet with an embarrassed yet earnest, “Sorry!” His hasty retreat, accompanied by the muffled sound of the freezer closing, left a lingering trace of his red-faced mortification.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the unfolding scene, the sound a soft ripple of amusement in the otherwise quiet room. Your hands gently rested on Minho’s biceps, feeling the subtle strength beneath his shirt as you turned to face him once more.

Minho was already gazing at you with a look that combined mischief and amusement, his eyes sparkling with a playful light that drew you in. The sight of his tender, yet mischievous expression made your heart flutter, an involuntary blush creeping across your cheeks. The warmth of your blush contrasted with the coolness of the evening, adding a delightful layer to the already enchanting moment.

“Should I escort everyone who doesn’t reside here out?” Minho mused aloud, his index finger tapping thoughtfully against his chin. The gesture was deliberate, a small ritual of contemplation as he considered the crowded scene around him.

He sighed softly, his gaze drifting towards you with a mix of longing and humor. “I’d really appreciate a moment of solitude with my lover,” he continued, his voice tinged with playful exasperation. The desire for privacy was clear in his words, a heartfelt wish for a brief respite from the throng of people that seemed to encircle you both.

Your cheeks flushed deeper at his remark, the warmth of your blush spreading as you playfully slapped his chest with a gentle, teasing motion. “No, I actually enjoy having them here,” you replied, your voice carrying a soft, affectionate tone.

Minho’s reaction was swift and dramatic—he pouted, a look of mock offense crossing his features. His expression was almost comically wounded, adding a layer of endearing charm to his demeanor. “You love them here, too,” he retorted, his voice tinged with a hint of playful reproach. “We don’t get many chances to spend time like this, surrounded by everyone we care about.” His words carried a mix of sincerity and affection, highlighting the rare and cherished moments of togetherness amidst the lively company.

Though Minho recognized the truth in your words, he couldn’t resist the dramatic flair of throwing his head back in an exaggerated display of exasperation. The gesture was both theatrical and endearing, a playful prelude to the amused smile that soon graced his lips as he turned back to face you.

With a gentle peck on your forehead, his affection was palpable and tender, a quiet gesture that spoke volumes. Minho then shifted slightly, subtly encouraging you to step back and make room for him to maneuver. Together, you both ventured back into the living room, where the lively banter of the other members filled the air. Their animated debate over which movie to watch created a backdrop of joyful chaos, adding a touch of familiar, comfortable noise to the evening’s unfolding scenes.

서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.

As you stepped into the familiar confines of the gym, the echo of your footsteps reverberated through the empty space. The dim lighting cast a soft glow on the rows of pristine equipment, all neatly aligned yet untouched, giving the place an almost ethereal quality. It was a sanctuary of solitude, the usual clamor replaced by a serene silence, the gym technically closed to the public. But Changbin, with his special privileges, had always been an exception.

Changbin's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he turned to you, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "What are you going to be working on today?" he inquired, his voice gentle yet brimming with enthusiasm.

You took a moment, savoring the tranquility, before taking a swift sip from your water bottle. "Today, I’ll focus on my arms and chest," you replied, your voice steady and resolute. "But I’m starting with cardio."

Changbin nodded, his expression one of approval and understanding. Leaning in, he pressed a tender kiss onto your cheek, the warmth of his lips lingering like a delicate whisper. He then gently nudged you towards the treadmill, his touch both encouraging and affectionate. "Today's leg day for me," he declared with a soft chuckle, his eyes glinting with determination.

As you began your workout, the rhythmic hum of the treadmill filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft rustle of your movements. The gym, though silent and still, seemed to come alive with the shared energy and quiet companionship, a testament to the unspoken bond you and Changbin cherished.

Just like that, you both found yourselves immersed in your own worlds, each movement and breath synchronizing with the rhythm of your workouts. The gym seemed to fade away, leaving only the steady cadence of your heartbeats and the pulsating energy of your exertion. 

Your large headphones enveloped your ears, cocooning you in a bubble of high-energy music. Each song, meticulously selected for its invigorating beat, propelled you forward, every stride on the treadmill matching the tempo of the powerful tunes. The music was your fuel, igniting your determination and driving you through each passing minute.

Meanwhile, Changbin was equally engrossed in his routine, his focus unwavering as he pushed through the burn of leg day. The clang of weights and the soft thud of his movements created a rhythm of their own, a testament to his dedication and strength. 

When the thirty minutes finally elapsed, you both reconvened, seeking each other's presence for a much-needed respite. Your breath came in shallow pants, the exertion evident in the slight sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. The treadmill had tested your endurance, leaving you flushed and glowing with the heat of your efforts.

Changbin, too, bore the marks of his intense workout. His face was flushed, and beads of perspiration trickled down his temples. He lifted his water bottle, tilting it back to down a generous portion of the cool liquid, the refreshing sensation bringing a momentary relief from the heat. 

As you caught your breath, the shared silence was comforting, a mutual understanding that needed no words. The gym, still hushed and serene, felt like a haven where both of you could push your limits and find solace in each other’s presence.

"I was watching you while you were running," Changbin remarked after wiping his mouth, his tone carrying a playful edge that made you smirk. His dark eyes sparkled with a mix of admiration and mischief as he continued, "You look so good, it’s not even remotely funny or fair."

You couldn't help but scoff, rolling your eyes at him, but the warmth in his gaze made it impossible to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. Stepping closer to your boyfriend, you felt a surge of affection. The scent of his cologne mingled with the fresh, clean aroma of the gym, creating an intimate bubble around you both.

In one swift motion, you captured his lips with yours, the kiss light and teasing. You giggled, delighting in the surprised look on his face as you pulled away before he had a chance to react. His pout was adorable, a mixture of mock annoyance and genuine desire.

Not one to be outdone, Changbin leaned down, closing the distance between you. His lips found yours again, this time more firmly, conveying a deeper passion and a hint of possessiveness. The kiss was a promise, a silent affirmation of his feelings, and you responded in kind, melting into the moment.

The gym, with its quiet solitude and dim lighting, faded into the background. All that mattered was the connection between you two, the electricity in the air as your lips met and parted. It was a stolen moment of tenderness and playfulness, a testament to the unique bond you shared.

As you should have expected, Changbin wasted no time in reaching up to cradle your face, his fingers tender yet firm against your skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and his intent was clear: he wanted to deepen the kiss, to lose himself in the moment with you.

The world seemed to fade away as his lips moved against yours, each touch a testament to his longing. However, before the kiss could escalate, a sudden, sharp sound shattered the tranquility. The door banged open with a loud thud, startling you both apart, your hearts pounding not just from the exertion but from the abrupt interruption.

You and Changbin turned simultaneously, eyes wide with surprise and a hint of annoyance, to find Jeongin standing by the door. His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and amusement, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he took in the scene.

"I'm sorry," Jeongin began, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't know you guys would need some time—"

He hesitated, glancing between you and Changbin, the awkwardness of the situation apparent. The silence stretched for a moment, thick with unspoken words and the remnants of the interrupted kiss.

Jeongin's smile turned a bit more genuine as he added, "I can give you five minutes to finish, though."

The jab had you cackling, the sound echoing through the gym. Changbin, however, feigned offense, playfully yelling, "Hey! I can last a hell of a lot longer than some measly five minutes!" He huffed dramatically, his pout exaggerated to drive home the point. Jeongin laughed, shaking his head slightly, amused by the spectacle.

"What are you even doing here?" Changbin asked after a beat of silence, curiosity piqued.

Jeongin cocked his head to the side, his expression almost puzzled. "You…we agreed I’d meet you here tonight to work out…" His words trailed off, the memory slowly dawning on him as he spoke.

As if struck by sudden realization, Changbin gasped theatrically, slapping his palm against his forehead. "That’s right! I’m sorry, come in." His apology was earnest, his eyes reflecting a mixture of guilt and amusement.

"Oh, I’d rather not be a third wheel, thank you very much," Jeongin teased, a playful glint in his eyes. You rolled your eyes at him, unable to suppress a smile. The banter was light-hearted, a testament to the easy camaraderie between you all.

Changbin, on the other hand, wasn't about to let his friend off the hook that easily. "Oh, no you don’t!" he called out, his voice booming through the gym. He rushed forward, grabbing Jeongin by the shirt as he attempted to leave, pulling him back into the gym with surprising strength.

Jeongin's protests were half-hearted, more amused than anything else. The scene was almost comical, the gym’s solemnity broken by your laughter and the playful antics of your friends. It was a moment of shared joy, a reminder of the bonds that held you together even in the most mundane of settings.

황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.

You whine softly, your voice barely above a whisper, as you press your hand against Hyunjin's forehead to push him away. His persistence is unwavering, though, and he keeps returning with puckered lips and mischievous eyes that sparkle with playful intent. The soft glow of the television casts a warm hue over the room, illuminating his features and accentuating the twinkle in his eyes.

For quite some time now, Hyunjin had been trying to capture your lips with his own, his attempts at stealing kisses becoming increasingly daring. Yet, your focus remained steadfast on the movie playing on the screen. The film’s storyline had finally ensnared your attention, and for once, you wanted to see it through without distractions. You couldn't help but feel a bit guilty, knowing how much Hyunjin craved these intimate moments, but the timing just didn't feel right.

Besides, the living room of the apartment he shared with his roommate, Changbin, didn’t seem like the ideal setting for such affection. The thought of indulging in romantic gestures here, even with the knowledge that Changbin was away at the gym, felt unsettling. The echo of his presence lingered in the air, and the mere idea of it dulled the allure of Hyunjin's advances. The movie provided a convenient shield, a reason to resist the pull of his playful charm, as you both sat close yet worlds apart on the couch.

"Come on," Hyunjin complained, his voice tinged with a playful whine as he pouted, his lips forming a perfect, exaggerated curve. The sight of him like this, with his bottom lip jutting out and his eyes wide with mock disappointment, sent a ripple of amusement through you. Unable to suppress a giggle, you found his expression irresistibly adorable, a stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor.

"Just a little bit, and then I'll leave you alone," he pleaded, his tone a mixture of enticement and surrender. His persistence was endearing, a testament to his desire for your attention and affection. You sighed theatrically, rolling your eyes with feigned exasperation at his dramatic antics, yet a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. Hyunjin's charm was a force to be reckoned with, and even in moments like these, he knew exactly how to push your buttons.

"The movie is almost done," you stated, glancing at the television screen and pointing with the remote in your hand. The film's climax was nearing, and you couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and relief. "Once the movie is done, I'm all yours — fair?" Your words hung in the air, a promise of undivided attention once the credits rolled. 

Hyunjin huffed in playful defeat, his breath escaping in a soft, theatrical exhale. With a resigned nod, he agreed, then settled himself comfortably on the couch, laying his head on your lap while his feet dangled off the armrest. The weight of his head on your thighs felt familiar and comforting. A chuckle escaped your lips as you unpaused the movie, your fingers instinctively weaving through his long, silken hair, the strands slipping like liquid gold between your fingertips.

There was something endearing about Hyunjin's behavior, how he could be so clingy and needy despite his usual claims of not being a fan of physical affection. It amused you endlessly, this dichotomy of his personality, and you couldn't help but smile at the contrast. His presence was a delightful distraction, one that added a layer of warmth and intimacy to the moment.

As the movie continued to play, you found yourself getting drawn back into the plot, though not without the occasional commentary meant to elicit laughter from Hyunjin. Your whispered remarks and shared giggles created a cozy cocoon of companionship, the outside world fading away as you reveled in the simple pleasure of being together. Each touch, each laugh, each whispered word added another stitch to the tapestry of your shared moments, weaving a bond that felt unbreakable.

When the movie finally came to an end, you barely had a moment to register the closing credits before Hyunjin practically launched himself at you, his lithe form straddling your lap with an impish grin lighting up his face. His eyes sparkled with a playful mischief, and without warning, he began to pepper your face and neck with a flurry of kisses. Each feather-light touch sent delightful shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but giggle loudly, the sound filling the room with infectious joy.

Despite your best efforts to push him away, your attempts were half-hearted at best, your resolve weakened by the sheer delight of his affectionate onslaught. Hyunjin, ever the tease, quickly caught your wrists in his grasp, pinning them securely to his lap. His grip was firm yet gentle, and his eyes danced with laughter as he resumed his barrage of kisses. The sensation of his lips against your skin, warm and insistent, left you breathless and giddy.

You wriggled and squirmed beneath him, your laughter rising in pitch as you became a squealing, giggling mess. The room seemed to blur around you, the only clarity being the closeness of Hyunjin, the feel of his body pressed against yours, and the sound of his laughter mingling with your own. His kisses were relentless, each one a playful declaration of his affection, and no amount of squirming seemed to deter him.

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only you and Hyunjin, caught in a whirlwind of shared laughter and tender kisses. Your attempts at defense were futile, each wriggle and squeal only serving to encourage him further. Yet, beneath the playful struggle, there was a profound sense of happiness, a blissful contentment that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

Lost in your own bubble of joy and affection, neither of you noticed when Changbin returned from the gym. He stood silently by the doorway, his phone poised in front of his face, capturing the endearing chaos unfolding before him. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he recorded the scene, amused by the playful display of intimacy.

It was only when you turned your head and caught sight of him that a startled yelp escaped your lips. The sound jolted Hyunjin from his revelry, his expression shifting from delight to confusion. "Hey! What are you doing? Are you filming?" you asked with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. The sudden shift in your tone finally alerted Hyunjin to his roommate’s presence.

Changbin’s boisterous laughter erupted, filling the space with a rich, hearty sound. He quickly turned off his phone and shoved it into his pocket, but not before Hyunjin had leapt from your lap, his face a mix of mock outrage and concern. “That’s an invasion of privacy!” Hyunjin declared with exaggerated drama, his voice ringing through the room.

Your laughter mingled with Changbin’s as you shot Hyunjin a teasing look. “Baby, we’re in the living room. This is not a private space for you to be saying that.” Hyunjin’s face fell into a pout, his lower lip jutting out as he glanced at you. 

“Whose side are you on, huh?” he asked, a playful edge to his tone.

Changbin, clearly entertained by the bickering, shook his head with a chuckle as he turned and made his way towards his bedroom. His amusement lingered in the air, a lighthearted reminder of the everyday warmth and camaraderie that filled the apartment. The door closed softly behind him, leaving you and Hyunjin to continue your playful exchange, the echo of laughter still dancing in the room.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist @nxtt2-u @nebugalaxy @bokk-minnie (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Post taglist: @stayconnecteed @ihrtlix @unabasheddeanrebellover-blog @zerefdragn33l @bakugohoex @pixiiebutt @chuuyaobsessed @estella-novella @minszn @telemarcs @hannieslovebot @d-chagi @iambangchanswife @j1998v @oc3anfloor @minminmoew @tajannah-price1

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

【 WWW.MINHOSBITTERRIVER.COM/ENHYPEN 】

💭 GUIDELINES ‣ LIBRARY ‣ TAGLIST & ANONS ‣ REQUEST LIST ‣ PINNED ‣ TIP JAR

📨 REQUESTS ARE CLOSED 📨 WORK COUNT: OO4 📨

NO SMUT FOR: Ni-ki & Jungwon SUGGESTIVE OKAY FOR: Jungwon

엔하이픈 ── OT7. ( enhypen )

⭐️─────MADE FOR LOVING YOU | 8.8K — HEADCANONS | in which you’re the idol who somehow snatched the members of enhypen’s heart at first sight. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

🍷─────LOOK UP TO YOU | 12.8K — HEADCANONS | in which you’re the idol and they’re your fanboys. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

🍷─────JEALOUS TIDES | 4.8K — HEADCANONS | these stories explore the subtle interplay of love, jealousy, and intimacy, capturing moments of tender connection and emotional depth between partners. (GENDER NEUTRAL READER) REQUESTED

이희승 ── LEE HEESEUNG. ( heeseung )

nothing yet, come back later!

박종성 ── PARK JONGSEONG. ( jay )

nothing yet, come back later!

심재윤 ── SIM JAEYUN. ( jake )

nothing yet, come back later!

박성훈 ── PARK SUNGHOON. ( sunghoon )

🍷─────I FOUND A LOVE FOR ME | 1.4K — ONE-SHOT | in which sunghoon plans a little birthday celebration for you, whom he adores with his entire being. (FEMALE READER)

김선우 ── KIM SEONWOO. ( sunoo )

nothing yet, come back later!

양정원 ── YANG JUNGWON. ( jungwon )

nothing yet, come back later!

西村 力 ── NISHIMURA RIKI. ( ni-ki )

nothing yet, come back later!

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

© MINHOSBITTERRIVER | do not plagiarize, repost or translate my works on this platform or any others.

thank you for tagging me merin !

relationship status : taken ♥️

favorite color : green , brown , lavender .

song stuck in my head : volcano by han and seungmin ( i seriously need help , i listened to it once and have not gotten rid of it since ) .

favorite food : piñón ( left ) and mofongo ( right ) all the way !

last song i listened to : according to spotify , it was you’re somebody else by flora cash .

dream trip : there is no specific place i want to visit , i think . i just want to travel all over with a companion that brings me comfort .

the last thing i searched : the meaning of ethos , pathos , logos because i wanted to make sure i didn’t mix them up .

no pressure tags : @grandpafelixx @cbini @moonjxsung @christronomy @zeroeightzeroone @astraysimp @alexs-mardy-bum + anyone else who is interested <3

@rndmpunk ok so for some reason that tag game isn't letting me ad stuff to the post (a reblog limit mabey idk) so Imma start my own thread

Rules: tag 10 or more people you want to know better

relationship status: single (and aroace spec so ya)

favourite colour: green :)

song stuck in my head: Dr who theme lol

favorite food: cheese and chutney sandwiches I think

last song listened to: other than Dr who, the mountain song by tophouse

dream trip: the highlands of Scotland 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 :)

last thing I searched: how long does Spiced apple juice take to make (it was about half an hour)

tags: @mushroomgazette @aphrodititi @dicklessswonder @spineless-lobster @jupiterfangs @edsbacktattoo

hello, are requests still open? if so could i request how enhypen would be like as fanboys for idol reader? and if they somehow got noticed by reader like during a concert, fansign, etc

or is this request too similar to your recent enha x idol reader fic? (which was amazing btw!) if it is, i can send in a different one!

Hi! Yes, requests are still open! Please don’t ask me how the hell this one managed to reach 12.8K words — I honestly have no idea. I was just writing, minding my own business and then when I was finished I checked the word count and literally shocked myself, so sorry about that! I still hope you enjoy it!

I kinda had to take out the romance and leave it as Enhypen being the reader’s adorably dorky fanboys instead because otherwise it would’ve been a bit too similar to the request you were talking about, and anyway I felt like this version represented our experience as a fandom a lot better. BUT if you want something that's a bit more romantic and more well thought-out, you can pick a specific member of Enhypen to be the fanboy and I can delve a bit deeper into the whole Fanboy x Idol trope (please do, I have so many ideas but don't know which member to pick).

Also, thank you for enjoying my first Enhypen request, MADE FOR LOVING YOU! I’m still somewhat a bit of a baby Engene (I've really been following them on-and-off for about a year though they've consistently had me on a chokehold for the past few months) so I was nervous I wouldn’t be able to capture them well. You can request all you like, by the way! ── ( 𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐧 )

💻 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 💻

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 12.8k

🦢 LEARN YOUR FILTHY ABCs ( ateez )

❛ Everything regarding what sex would be like with Seonghwa.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.9k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 16 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This is my very first piece for Ateez, so I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, this is pure filth I don’t know what else to tell you, mentions of cum, mentions of his kinks, mentions of sex positions, let me know what else I should add here!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗵𝘄𝗮 | 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗷𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗴 | 𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗵𝗼 | 𝘆𝗲𝗼𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗴 | 𝘀𝗮𝗻 | 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗶 | 𝘄𝗼𝗼𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴 | 𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼

If you want to be tagged for all or specific members, comment to let me know!

A──AFTERCARE ⋆ ★ what he’s like after sex

During aftercare, Seonghwa's attention is nothing short of meticulous. His touch is gentle yet purposeful, an intricate dance of care and tenderness. As a switch, his nature is one of balance; the one who held the reins of dominance must now be the nurturing force. This dynamic, for him, is both a necessity and a cherished ritual.

When Seonghwa is in the submissive role, he transforms into a portrait of neediness, craving affection with an almost palpable urgency. His voice, soft and pleading, seeks endless validation through praises and intimate cuddles. He clings with a fervor that speaks volumes of his vulnerability, basking in the warmth of your attention.

Conversely, when the roles are reversed and it's you who finds yourself in need, Seonghwa becomes an impeccable caretaker. His devotion is expressed through thoughtful acts: he delicately cleans you, his touch light as a feather; he offers words of praise that flutter like butterflies around your senses; and he presents you with a glass of water, the cool liquid a soothing balm. Whatever you desire, however small or grand, he ensures that you want for nothing.

B──BODY PART ⋆ ★ his favorite body part of yours

Seonghwa’s adoration is fixated on one particular part of you: your eyes. It might sound like a well-worn cliché, but for him, it transcends mere sentiment. Your eyes are a window to your soul, capturing and reflecting every fleeting emotion with crystalline clarity.

There is an entrancing quality to them that captivates him entirely. When he teases you, he watches as your eyes silently plead, the unspoken desire shimmering within their depths. Each glance and subtle shift tells a story, one that he finds irresistibly compelling. And when the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear, he is mesmerized by the way your eyes flutter and roll back, lost in the throes of ecstasy.

Seonghwa finds himself lost in their gaze, captivated by the intimate revelations they offer. He could lose himself in their depths, watching endlessly as they dance through a spectrum of emotions, each moment more enchanting than the last. For him, your eyes are an endless source of fascination, a mesmerizing mirror reflecting the essence of your being.

C ──CUM ⋆ ★ anything to do with cum, basically

Seonghwa cherishes the sublime moment of climax with a profound intensity. For him, the most exhilarating part is the euphoric build-up that overtakes him. Just before he reaches the peak, a wave of ecstatic tension envelops him, making every muscle in his body quiver in anticipation. This crescendo of sensation is a mesmerizing dance of pleasure, as he trembles on the brink of release, surrendering to the waves of ecstasy that wash over him.

When it is you who reaches the pinnacle of pleasure, Seonghwa finds immense joy in observing your response. He is captivated by the subtle, yet profoundly beautiful, aftershocks that ripple through your body. Each shiver and convulsion is a testament to the intensity of your experience, a visual symphony of your journey through bliss. As you ride the final waves of your climax, your body moves with a delicate, almost ethereal grace, and he revels in the sight of your ecstatic surrender, marveling at the way your pleasure unfolds and gradually recedes.

D ──DIRTY SECRET ⋆ ★ a dirty secret of his

Seonghwa is a man of remarkable openness when it comes to his desires and fantasies. He carries no hidden or "dirty secrets," instead embracing a refreshing transparency in his desires. Anything that piques his interest or stirs his passions is shared with you without reservation.

His confidence in your understanding and acceptance is unwavering. He knows that within the safe confines of your relationship, there is no room for judgment. This trust allows him to express his deepest curiosities and turn-ons with complete freedom. His willingness to communicate his wants reflects a profound respect for your bond, and an acknowledgment of the unspoken understanding that exists between you.

E ──EXPERIENCED ⋆ ★ how experienced was he before you?

Before you entered his life, Seonghwa’s experiences in intimacy were confined to the realm of conventional, vanilla encounters. His past was marked by encounters that, while fulfilling on the surface, adhered strictly to the norms of traditional passion. These experiences, though genuine, lacked the depth and exploration that he now cherishes.

It wasn't until you came into his life that the landscape of his sexuality began to shift profoundly. The intimacy between you both transcended the ordinary, venturing into realms of raw and exhilarating exploration. Your encounters, marked by a roughness that both shocked and thrilled him, redefined his understanding of physical connection. The dynamic you shared opened his eyes to a world of sensuality that was far more intricate and multifaceted than he had ever imagined.

In your presence, Seonghwa discovered a new dimension of pleasure and intimacy. He often reflects on this transformation with a sense of awe, even jestingly claiming that you bestowed upon him what he refers to as his "second virginity." This phrase captures the profound impact you’ve had, as if your shared experiences had allowed him to rediscover and reinvent his sense of sensuality from the ground up.

F ──FAVORITE POSITION ⋆ ★ self-explanatory

Seonghwa revels in the intimacy of spooning during sex, a position that melds closeness with a serene, unhurried pace. This tender embrace allows for a deeply connected experience, where the gentle, rhythmic movements foster prolonged pleasure. As you both settle into this position, his hands are free to roam and explore, caressing and teasing with a sensitivity that enhances the romantic atmosphere. The shared warmth and proximity make this position a perfect canvas for his appreciation of romance and affection.

When the two of you are not curled up together, Seonghwa finds great pleasure in the cowgirl and reverse cowgirl positions. These arrangements present him with a captivating view of your reactions, intensifying the visual and emotional connection between you. In these positions, he can control the rhythm and depth of each movement, savoring every nuance of sensation. Additionally, the opportunity to admire the sight of you in matching lingerie or other alluring visual details adds an extra layer of stimulation and delight to the experience.

G ──GOOFY ⋆ ★ is he serious or goofy?

Seonghwa possesses a demeanor of solemnity, his presence often marked by a serious and composed exterior. Yet, amid the fervor of passion, there exists a charmingly humorous side to his otherwise reserved nature. In the heat of the moment, the intensity of your connection sometimes gives way to an endearing clumsiness.

In these moments, the room is charged with a palpable energy, where the fervor of your shared desire occasionally leads to inadvertent mishaps. Perhaps a tangled leg or a misstep causes the both of you to stumble, breaking the rhythm of your intimate dance. Despite the initial surprise, the atmosphere quickly softens. You exchange quick, silent glances, each of you assessing the other for any signs of discomfort. 

Then, as if on cue, the tension dissolves into laughter. The giggles that erupt between you are spontaneous and infectious, a delightful interlude that momentarily replaces the intense passion with pure, unadulterated joy. The laughter lingers in the air as you both regain your composure, your connection undiminished by the playful stumble. With renewed smiles and a shared sense of amusement, you seamlessly slip back into the rhythm of your intimacy, the light-heartedness only deepening the bond between you. 

H ──HAIR ⋆ ★ how well-groomed is he?

Among all the members, he stands out for his meticulous attention to cleanliness. His grooming habits reflect a level of care that borders on perfectionism. Down there, he is as smooth as a baby's skin, a testament to his dedication to personal upkeep. 

This meticulousness is partly driven by his penchant for wearing lingerie, where he feels that a hair-free look enhances his aesthetic. His confidence extends to his physical appearance, as he takes pride in showcasing a particularly well-endowed and visually appealing aspect of himself. His smoothness, therefore, is not just a matter of preference but a deliberate choice to accentuate his natural beauty and enhance his overall presentation.

Despite his preference for a sleek appearance, he also harbors an appreciation for the allure of a well-groomed bush. It’s a contrast that underscores his nuanced tastes, revealing a deep respect for both pristine elegance and the classic appeal of natural beauty. 

I ──INTIMACY ⋆ ★ the romantic aspect of sex

For Seonghwa, the essence of romance in intimacy is deeply intertwined with the trust you both share. This trust, built on mutual understanding and respect, transforms each encounter into a profound expression of connection. The way you rely on each other during these moments is where he finds the true beauty of your bond.

Yet, this does not imply that he is incapable of appreciating the gentler side of intimacy. Occasionally, he finds immense beauty in the simplicity of slow, vanilla sex—a tender exploration of togetherness that emphasizes the joy of simply being with you. For him, these moments of unadorned affection hold their own special charm, celebrating the profound beauty of your relationship in its most straightforward form.

J ──JACK OFF ⋆ ★ masturbation

Seonghwa reserves his solo moments of indulgence primarily for when he’s on tour. During these times, he makes a ritual out of it, capturing the experience on film with a meticulous care. He sends these recordings to you, turning his private moments into a shared pleasure, a way to keep the connection between you alive even when distance separates you.

He derives a particular thrill from edging himself, drawing out his own pleasure in a manner reminiscent of the way you tease him. The deliberate delay of gratification adds a layer of intensity to his experience, reflecting his deep appreciation for the art of anticipation. Each moment of self-restraint is an intimate tribute to the way you both savor and extend pleasure, keeping the bond between you both alive and vibrant. 

K ──KINK ⋆ ★ one or more kinks he’d have

Each time you call him “mommy,” he struggles to contain the overwhelming rush of arousal it provokes. The sound of the word alone drives him to the edge of sanity, his restraint faltering as he fights against the tide of his own pleasure. In moments of intense desire, he might even humorously refer to himself as “mommy,” a playful nod to the potent effect your words have on him.

Seonghwa is also deeply enthralled by the complexities of dominance and submission. His fascination with these dynamics is reflected in his diligent research, where he eagerly explores various aspects of the interplay between control and surrender. He frequently shares intriguing articles and ideas with you, each link a glimpse into his desire to experiment and expand your mutual experiences.

The intense trust forged through these moments of passionate, almost sadistic encounters is something Seonghwa cherishes deeply. Wrapped in the raw energy of your interactions, the bond between you strengthens, flourishing within the confines of aggressive play. For him, this trust is not just a foundation but a source of profound connection and gratification.

As a switch, Seonghwa exemplifies the fluidity between dominance and submission with remarkable ease. While he is equally content in either role, he often gravitates towards the dominant side. His ability to navigate both roles seamlessly underscores his versatility and deep-seated passion, ensuring that every experience is both dynamic and fulfilling.

L ──LOCATION ⋆ ★ favorite places to fuck

Though it may seem modest, Seonghwa finds a profound sense of comfort in the familiar confines of either your room or his own when it comes to intimacy. He is not one to seek out the thrill of adventurous locations; instead, he values the serene and secure environment that these private spaces offer.

To him, the intimacy of these familiar surroundings is essential, especially when the dynamic calls for one of you to embrace a submissive role. The reassuring presence of well-known settings provides a grounding force, allowing for a deeper connection and a sense of safety. In these cherished spaces, both of you can fully immerse yourselves in the moment, free from the distractions of the outside world.

M ──MOTIVATION ⋆ ★ what turns him on?

Seonghwa finds an exquisite thrill in the elegance of matching lingerie, a source of unparalleled excitement for him. He adores slipping into these delicate garments himself, often complemented by flowing, elegant robes that enhance the allure of his attire. The refined textures and intricate designs captivate him, transforming his personal experience into a celebration of sensuality and sophistication.

However, his passion reaches new heights when you join him in this indulgence. If you wear matching lingerie, but in a contrasting color, the sight alone could drive him to the brink of ecstasy. The visual symmetry, coupled with the playful contrast, ignites a fervent desire within him. The mere image of you both adorned in such exquisite lingerie, yet diverging in hues, creates an intoxicating blend of harmony and contrast that drives him to the edge of his passions. 

N ──NO ⋆ ★ his turn-offs

Despite his deep affection for BDSM, Seonghwa’s response to seeing you in distress is immediate and heartfelt. Even if you haven’t uttered the safe word, the sight of tears welling up in your eyes sends a ripple of anxiety through him. His devotion to your well-being overrides any desire for continued play.

As soon as he detects the first glimmer of tears, Seonghwa instinctively halts all activity. His focus shifts entirely to your emotional state, his concern evident in his every gesture. He approaches you with a gentle urgency, offering a moment of respite and a soothing presence designed to help you regain your composure.

He gives you the space to calm down, his attentiveness unwavering. Only when you’re ready and have assured him that you wish to continue does he cautiously resume. His care and consideration ensure that each step forward is guided by your comfort and safety, underscoring his deep respect and affection for you.

O ──ORAL ⋆ ★ giving or receiving?

Seonghwa holds a profound appreciation for the art of oral pleasure, whether he is the one giving or receiving. To him, this act transcends the physicality of penetration, embodying a level of intimacy that is both deeply personal and exquisitely intimate.

The sensation of having his lover’s aroused form graced by his mouth is a profoundly tantalizing experience. The act of enveloping and being enveloped in this way creates a delicate dance of desire, where each touch and caress becomes an expression of profound connection. This intimacy, characterized by its closeness and the nuanced interplay of pleasure, is a beautiful exploration of mutual arousal that elevates the act to a realm of its own, marked by a tender, almost reverent allure. 

P ──PACE ⋆ ★ fast and rough or slow and sensual?

Seonghwa’s approach to intimacy is intricately attuned to the mood of the evening. The rhythm and intensity of his touch are shaped by the theme of the night, each encounter reflecting the depth of his connection with you.

When he returns from a tour, having been away from the comforting embrace of your presence, he delights in taking his time with you. These moments are slow and languid, filled with a deep, sensual exploration that allows him to savor every nuance of your erotic sounds. He treasures this time, each moan and sigh a sweet reminder of the intimate bond you share.

Yet, there are occasions when his desire overtakes his patience. Even in these instances, where urgency drives him, he remains committed to a substantial period of foreplay, never skimping on the necessary build-up. His passion ensures that even in moments of heightened eagerness, there is still a generous thirty minutes dedicated to the art of seduction, each touch and caress meticulously designed to heighten the anticipation and pleasure. 

Q ──QUICKIE ⋆ ★ yes or no?

Seonghwa is far from one to indulge in fleeting encounters; he treasures the art of making every moment count. The concept of a quickie holds little appeal for him. Instead, he revels in the slow, deliberate exploration of intimacy, savoring each nuance of the experience.

Foreplay, for him, is an essential and cherished prelude. He delights in the intricate dance of seduction that unfolds long before the physical act itself. The act of making out, with its tender, lingering kisses and the gradual unbuttoning of clothes, captivates him. Each touch and caress is a prelude to deeper connection, a way to savor the closeness and build anticipation.

The process of undressing one another is a ritual of its own, a sensual act of intimacy where every button and zipper becomes an opportunity to explore and adore. For Seonghwa, the journey leading up to sex is as precious as the act itself, and he finds immense pleasure in the slow, passionate build-up that enhances the depth of your shared connection. 

R ──RISK ⋆ ★ down for risky sex?

Seonghwa's approach to intimacy is deeply rooted in romance, seeing it as a canvas upon which he paints both passion and tenderness. His appreciation for the emotional connection in sex is profound, and he often seeks to blend the elements of pleasure and pain in a way that enhances the romantic experience rather than detracting from it.

In his exploration of sensuality, he embraces the nuances of incorporating pain, yet he does so with a careful and measured touch. This integration of pain is never excessive or dangerous; instead, it is artfully balanced to intensify the overall experience while maintaining a sense of safety and care. Each sensation is meticulously calibrated to ensure that it enriches the emotional and physical connection, rather than overshadowing it. His aim is to enhance the romantic aspect of intimacy, creating a space where pleasure and pain coexist harmoniously, always respecting the boundaries of comfort and safety. 

S ──STAMINA ⋆ ★ all night or minute man?

Seonghwa’s experiences of climax are often swift and intense, marked by a rapid crescendo that leaves him breathless. Yet, his passion is not confined to a single moment; he possesses an extraordinary stamina that allows him to engage in multiple rounds, extending the pleasure over hours of unrelenting intensity.

He delights in the art of overstimulation, pushing the boundaries of his own endurance with a fervent curiosity. Each round is an exploration of limits, where he tests just how much sensation he can savor before reaching the brink. This relentless pursuit of pleasure transforms each encounter into a prolonged symphony of ecstasy, where his ability to endure and delight in continuous stimulation becomes a testament to his passion and resilience. 

T ──TOYS ⋆ ★ on you? himself? not at all?

Incorporating toys into your intimate moments brings an exhilarating dimension to your experiences. When you use toys on him, he is equally eager to reciprocate, exploring the realms of pleasure with the same enthusiasm. The presence of these toys transforms your encounters into a playground of sensory exploration and mutual delight.

The interplay of these toys becomes particularly thrilling when one of you is pushed to the brink of pleasure. The teasing edge of anticipation and the heightened sensations of overstimulation create a captivating dynamic. As you both navigate the shifting tides of arousal, the toys become instruments of both pleasure and connection, intensifying the shared experience and deepening the bond between you.

U ──UNFAIR ⋆ ★ is he a tease?

Seonghwa embodies the essence of a tantalizing tease. His playful nature shines through in his interactions, especially when it comes to the art of seduction. He has a particular fondness for toys, viewing them not merely as instruments of pleasure but as tools for both torment and intrigue.

For him, these toys are designed to push boundaries, to tease and tantalize with a precise, calculated touch. However, his preference leans decidedly towards overstimulation rather than prolonged teasing. His impatience for the drawn-out dance of anticipation often leads him to favor the more intense, immediate gratification of overstimulation. The crescendo of heightened pleasure, in his view, far outweighs the subtler, more patient game of tease. 

V ──VOLUME ⋆ ★ what he sounds like

Seonghwa’s responses during moments of intimacy are often marked by a subtle elegance rather than overt noise. His pleasure is usually conveyed through soft, breathy sighs and the occasional gasps, each sound a delicate whisper of his sensations. This muted expression of enjoyment adds a layer of intimacy, creating a quiet yet profound connection between you.

However, on those rare occasions when his pleasure overwhelms him, his sounds shift to a more surprising register. His moans and cries become unexpectedly high-pitched, breaking through his usual reserve with a surprising intensity. These moments of vocal revelation are fleeting yet intense, offering a glimpse into the depth of his arousal and the delicate balance between his restrained demeanor and his more unguarded responses. 

W ──WILD CARD ⋆ ★ random headcanon

Seonghwa finds a profound allure in the intimate art of shibari, a practice that weaves together both physical and emotional connection in an exquisite dance. The act of binding each other with intricately colored ropes becomes a ritual of both elegance and intensity, where every knot and loop is imbued with deep significance.

As the ropes weave around your bodies, there is an added layer of intimacy in the tender whispers of praise and soft, lingering kisses that accompany each touch. This delicate interplay of sensation and affection transforms the experience into something profoundly special. The act of shibari doesn’t necessarily culminate in sex; sometimes, the shared ritual of creating these beautiful bonds and savoring the moment together is a reward in itself. The experience becomes a celebration of closeness and trust, where the beauty of the act and the connection it fosters are cherished above all else. 

X ──X-RAY ⋆ ★ what’s under his clothes?

Seonghwa’s skin is a stunning tapestry of smooth, sun-kissed tan, exuding a radiant warmth that highlights the elegance of his physique. His muscles are meticulously toned, embodying a sleek, lean grace that eschews the more defined abs for a subtler, refined strength. 

His length is equally captivating, possessing a pleasingly average size that is generously thick. The veins that sinuously wind along its surface create an intricate and alluring pattern, adding a touch of natural artistry to his form. The tip, a delicate shade of pink, stands out as a beautiful contrast, completing the picture with its understated, yet striking elegance. 

Y ──YEARNING ⋆ ★ how high is his sex drive?

Given the intense demands of BDSM, Seonghwa understands the importance of balance. His approach to intimacy reflects a deep respect for the physical and emotional toll it can take on both of you. While your time together is filled with exhilarating and profoundly intimate moments, he is not driven by a constant craving for more. 

Sex with you is an experience of great pleasure and connection, yet it is not an everyday affair. Seonghwa recognizes that the richness of your encounters is enhanced by allowing time for recovery and reflection. This mindful approach ensures that each experience remains as fulfilling and intense as the last, preserving the integrity of your bond and the depth of your connection. 

Taking time to recuperate between sessions is not merely a practical necessity but a cherished part of your shared journey. It allows both of you to savor the afterglow, to reconnect on a deeper level, and to approach each new encounter with renewed energy and enthusiasm.

Z ──ZZZ ⋆ ★ how quickly does he fall asleep after?

Seonghwa’s devotion extends beyond the moments of passion, reaching into the tender aftercare that follows. His commitment to your well-being is unwavering; he insists on staying awake until you do. Whether you wish to linger a bit longer, basking in the warmth of conversation and gentle cuddles, he is more than willing to oblige. His presence remains a comforting constant, a reassurance that you are not alone.

When you eventually drift into slumber, he remains by your side, his touch soft and tender. If you fall asleep swiftly, he gently nuzzles up to you, finding solace in your proximity as he too succumbs to the embrace of sleep. For Seonghwa, this post-intimacy closeness is an integral part of his aftercare routine. 

He cannot bring himself to rest until he is certain you are completely settled and serene. His need to ensure your comfort and safety outweighs his own fatigue, highlighting his deep care and attentiveness. Only when he is assured that you are peacefully asleep does he allow himself the luxury of rest, his love and concern wrapped around you like a protective embrace.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

─── ⋆⋅☆ STEADY LOVE ( xdinary heroes )

❛ A collection of heartfelt stories where love finds its strength in gentle understanding, as partners navigate the world together with unwavering support and care for each other's unique needs.

𝐱𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐞𝐬 + gender neutral reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.4k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 29 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This was so self-indulgent to write, so a very big thank you to my lovely 🍀 Anon for this request! Reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated! Requests are currently open! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has AuDHD in each member's piece, mentions of bees as a special interest, descriptions of being burned out and struggling with change, some very slight ableism mentioned (not from any of the members), descriptions of overstimulation, mentions of stimming, terrible flirting, overall this is very much hurt + comfort, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐭𝐢𝐩 𝐣𝐚𝐫 )

구건일 ── GOO GUNIL.

The day felt like it had conspired against Gunil, stretching itself out into an agonizing eternity, as if determined to sap every last bit of energy from him. Each second dragged on, the clock's hands moving at a snail's pace, mirroring the heaviness in his limbs. Finally, after what seemed like an endless rehearsal, an exhausted sigh escaped his lips, the sound barely noticeable amidst the hum of tired voices from his bandmates. With a practiced, almost mechanical motion, Gunil returned his well-worn drumsticks to their designated holder, a small nook on the wall that had become as familiar to him as his own reflection. The drumsticks settled into place with a soft click, the only sound in the practice room that had served as their second home. 

As his bandmates began to shuffle out, their movements sluggish, weighed down by the day’s efforts, Gunil barely registered the chorus of goodbyes. Jungsu’s voice cut through the haze, a final “see you tomorrow” accompanied by a wave before disappearing into the hallway. Gunil mustered a lazy half-smile, lifting his hand in a farewell that felt more like a reflex than a conscious action. The room, once alive with the pulse of their music, now felt eerily quiet, the silence amplifying the fatigue settling deep into his bones. He reached for his backpack, its weight pulling down on his tired shoulders, just as the sharp ring of his phone shattered the stillness.

The sudden sound jolted him, but when he saw your name on the screen, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, chasing away the exhaustion, even if just a little. “I’m done rehearsing, love, I’ll be—” Gunil’s greeting was cut short by the unmistakable sound of your excited squeal. He couldn’t help but chuckle, his heart swelling with affection at the image of you practically vibrating with energy on the other end of the line.

“Goo, you have to come home as soon as you can!” Your voice was bright, almost bursting with excitement, and Gunil could easily imagine you doing your little wiggles of joy, the ones that always made his heart melt. 

“Yes, baby,” he replied, his tone gentle, hiding the weariness in his bones so as not to dampen your spirits. “I’ll be home in no time. What’s got you so excited?” 

As he turned off the lights in the now-quiet practice room, the faint clicking of your keyboard reached his ears. He pictured you perched at your desk, your laptop open before you, eyes wide with curiosity. The image made him smile. 

“I found this new video, and Goo, it is so cool! It's a swarm of Japanese honeybees defending their nest by slapping ants with their wings, but this one is honestly so fascinating because apparently, this colony got infected by the Varroa Destructor Mite — but they were still so aggressive against the ants and they won! Isn't that so cool? Oh, Goo, please hurry, you have to watch it!” 

Your words tumbled out in a rush, barely pausing for breath, your excitement making the details spill over each other in a joyous cascade. Gunil found himself chuckling softly, warmth blooming in his chest as he listened to your passionate rambling. There was something so endearing about the way you got lost in your own world, especially when it came to bees. He could listen to you talk for hours, your voice animated and full of life, a stark contrast to the weariness that had settled over him.

He thought back to the early days of your relationship, when you had nervously explained your autism to him, worried that it might be too much, too different. But to Gunil, it was simply another beautiful facet of who you were, something that made him love you even more deeply. “That does sound very interesting, my love,” he said, trying to match your energy despite the exhaustion tugging at him. “I really can’t wait to watch it!”

The promise of coming home to you, to your bright, infectious enthusiasm, gave him the strength to push through the final stretch of his journey. “I’ll be home in about ten minutes, so hang tight,” he added, a smile in his voice as he ended the call. As he neared the apartment you shared, the sight of a family-owned flower shop caught his eye. 

Even through the fatigue, his gaze lingered on the blooms in the window, your favorite flowers standing out like a beacon. The thought of surprising you with them, especially when you were already so happy, sent a thrill through him. Without hesitation, he ducked into the shop, the sweet scent of fresh flowers wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. He selected a bouquet with care, imagining the way your eyes would light up when he walked through the door with them in hand.

The weight of the day began to lift as he paid for the flowers, the simple act of thinking about you bringing a renewed sense of energy. The thrill of coming home to you, your voice still echoing in his mind, made each step lighter. As he walked out of the shop, the bouquet cradled carefully in his arms, he felt the anticipation build, knowing that soon, he would be by your side, sharing in the simple, beautiful joy of being together.

김정수 ── KIM JUNGSU.

The corners of Jungsu’s lips tightened into a worried frown as he gently rapped on the door of your shared bedroom. Not waiting for an invitation, he nudged the door open just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him was one of persistent discomfort. There you were, lying on your side of the bed, your expression etched with visible distress. Your laptop, casting a soft glow in the dim room, played the familiar episodes of your favorite show—one you had practically memorized through countless viewings meant to soothe your troubled emotions.

Jungsu let out a soft sigh, his concern growing with each passing moment. He stepped into the room, the plush carpet muffling his footsteps as he moved towards your side of the bed. Perching himself on the edge, he settled into the space beside you, his presence both reassuring and tender. You kept your gaze fixed on the screen, as though it were the only refuge from the turmoil roiling within.

The silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken words and unshared burdens. After a few moments, you finally turned your head to meet his gaze, a weary sigh escaping your lips. Jungsu’s heart ached at the sight of your frustration and weariness. “I ordered takeout,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as if afraid to shatter the fragile calm. “It’s your favorite.”

He noticed the fleeting flicker of interest in your eyes, a brief spark that was quickly extinguished as you turned back to the screen with a frown. “I don’t want to eat right now,” you murmured, your tone resolute and final, leaving no room for negotiation. The firmness of your refusal stung, and Jungsu could only nod in resignation. He sighed once more, his shoulders slumping slightly as he retreated from the room, leaving you to your solitude.

For nearly a week now, this had been your reality—an ongoing struggle that Jungsu could only partially grasp. Despite the year you had been together, he had never seen you like this before. He understood that adapting to sudden changes was particularly challenging for you, especially when they disrupted the routines that provided a semblance of stability. The day you had called him from work, sobbing uncontrollably while locked in the bathroom, was seared into his memory. You had told him about your old manager’s abrupt departure and the arrival of a new, unfamiliar face. The sudden shift was more than you could handle, especially when your new manager refused to accommodate the adjustments necessary to make your work environment bearable.

As the days went on, the pressure became insurmountable. Each day, you returned home to face the aftermath of panic attacks you had kept at bay and to collapse into bed, seeking solace in the comfort of a show that could no longer ease the heaviness you carried. The joy and relief it once brought you were now overshadowed by a pervasive numbness, a stark reminder of the emotional toll that had become all too familiar.

Jungsu’s heart ached with the weight of your struggle, and though he sympathized deeply with your plight, it did little to quell his worry. He remained steadfast in his resolve to support you through this storm, even as he grappled with the helplessness of seeing you so diminished. Each day, he hoped for a glimmer of recovery, a sign that the storm within you might begin to abate. But for now, he could only offer his silent presence and unwavering support, waiting for the day when you would once again find your way back to the light.

Jungsu was grappling with uncertainty about how to pull you from the depths of your distress, but a sudden spark of inspiration ignited within him as his gaze fell upon the television in the living room. Resolute to offer you a sliver of comfort, he began a frenzied quest to transform your shared space into a sanctuary of solace. For the next half hour, he darted around the apartment, arms laden with an assortment of blankets, comforters, and pillows—each one a small testament to his unwavering determination.

With every trip in and out of the bedroom, his expression was a mixture of earnest concentration and quiet determination. You watched with a blend of curiosity and amusement as he repeatedly entered the room, his movements a flurry of purposeful activity. At one point, he even attempted to gather your collection of stuffed animals, struggling under the weight of their collective softness as he staggered out, his focus unbroken by your gaze.

The sounds of his labor—the shuffling of furniture, the occasional grunt of exertion—filled the space, drawing your attention away from the show you had paused. You listened intently, your curiosity piqued by the rhythmic clamor of activity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of bustling, Jungsu reappeared in the doorway of your bedroom, his face illuminated with a blend of triumph and excitement. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, catching the soft light of the nightstand lamp as he panted, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Baby,” he called out, his voice breathless but laced with an infectious enthusiasm. His hands rested on his hips, a gesture of pride and anticipation. “Can you please come out? I made something for you, and I think you’re really going to like it!”

Despite the storm of emotions swirling within you, the sight of Jungsu’s eager, childlike gleam in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings. Intrigued and touched by his effort, you pushed yourself up from the bed, the pull of his unwavering support more compelling than the urge to remain cocooned in your sanctuary. He extended a hand towards you, which you accepted with a grateful smile, allowing him to guide you toward the living room.

The transformation that greeted your eyes as you entered the living room took your breath away. The coffee table, once a fixture in the center of the room, had been pushed to the far wall. In its place stood a grand fortress, a whimsical creation of mismatched blankets and comforters meticulously draped and layered into a cozy haven. Strings of Christmas lights peeked through the folds, their gentle glow casting a warm, ethereal light that danced across the room. The television, positioned just in front of the fortress’s entrance, was primed to play your favorite show, a comforting familiarity in its soft glow.

As you inhaled deeply, the fragrant aroma of your favorite meal wafted towards you, a final touch to the heartwarming scene. Overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude, tears threatened to spill as you turned to embrace Jungsu. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, your body shaking slightly with the emotion you struggled to contain.

Jungsu chuckled softly, his arms enveloping you in a hug that was both firm and reassuring—just the way you liked it. “Is this okay?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper as you pulled back to look at him. The tears in your eyes glistened with a profound appreciation as you nodded vigorously, your voice wavering with emotion. “This is perfect, Jun,” you managed to say, your voice cracking slightly. “It looks exactly like how my grandmother used to do it when I was upset as a child.”

Jungsu’s smile widened, his satisfaction evident in the warmth that radiated from him. As you turned and practically bounded towards the fortress, a trail of contented giggles followed in your wake, each sound a balm to his worried heart. The sight of your joy, so vividly reflected in your laughter, made his heart flutter with a tender affection that seemed to encompass the entire room.

곽지석 ── KWAK JISEOK.

The outdoor market was a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds, alive with the energy of families and couples weaving through stalls brimming with fresh produce and handcrafted jewelry. The air was thick with the mingling scents of spices, flowers, and street food, a cacophony of sensory delights that usually set your heart racing with excitement. But today, the thrumming pulse of the market felt more like a storm brewing on the horizon. 

You had been standing in front of a stall, fingers lightly tracing the delicate patterns of handmade trinkets when a sudden influx of noisy tourists swarmed around you. The once-open space now felt suffocating as their loud voices clashed against one another, creating a wall of sound that made it impossible to think clearly. The proximity of strangers pressed too close, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your heart into a frantic rhythm. You glanced around, searching desperately for Jiseok, who had been right beside you only moments ago, but the crowd swallowed him up, leaving you feeling isolated and vulnerable.

As your anxiety began to claw its way to the surface, your body responded in familiar, desperate ways. Your fingers found their way to your hair, twisting and pulling at the strands as if they might tether you to something solid. Your leg bounced uncontrollably, tapping out an erratic rhythm on the cobblestones beneath you. The sharp sting of your nails digging into your palms became the only thing anchoring you, yet it also edged you closer to a breaking point that felt terrifyingly near.

It felt like an eternity, but finally, Jiseok emerged from the crowd, his eyes immediately locking onto you with a mix of relief and concern. He didn’t need to ask what was wrong—he could see it in the way your body had tensed, in the rapid, shallow breaths you struggled to control. Without a word, he reached out, gently but firmly taking your hands in his, halting the destructive cycle of pulling at your hair and digging into your skin. He interlaced your fingers with his, grounding you with the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, let's get out of here for a bit," Jiseok's voice broke through the chaos, a soothing melody that cut through the overwhelming noise around you. He didn’t wait for a response; instead, he drew you close, wrapping his arms around you and pressing your head against his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat against your ear was a familiar comfort, a lifeline in the middle of the storm.

Guiding you through the press of bodies, Jiseok kept you close, his arms a protective barrier against the world that had become too much to bear. His grip tightened slightly, applying the firm pressure that always seemed to calm your racing thoughts. "Look, we can go there for a little bit," he murmured, nodding towards a small park that sat like a hidden gem amidst the market’s frenzy. The greenery promised a respite, a quiet place to breathe again.

But it wasn’t the park that brought you solace—it was Jiseok himself. The vibration of his voice against your back as he spoke, the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his embrace all worked together to gently pull you out of the whirlpool of anxiety that threatened to drag you under. As he continued to speak, his words becoming a soft, mindless ramble meant only to distract, you could feel the storm inside you begin to subside. Your heartbeat, once wild and erratic, slowly began to sync with his, finding a steadier, calmer pace.

As Jiseok gently guided you through the bustling market, his hand remained a steady presence on your shoulder. Every so often, he would give a gentle squeeze, three soft pulses of reassurance—a silent code you both had established for moments like these, where words seemed to dissolve into the fog of your anxiety. It was his quiet way of asking, "Are you okay?" The simple gesture, familiar and comforting, anchored you amidst the swirling chaos. 

In response, you reached up to grasp his forearm, fingers curling around his warmth as you squeezed twice, signaling back, "I'm better." The exchange was small, but it spoke volumes—a tender conversation held in silence, where no words were necessary, just the understanding between two souls who had learned to navigate these storms together.

The noise of the market gradually faded into the background as Jiseok led you to the park. Here, the world softened, with the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze and the distant murmur of others who had also sought sanctuary from the market's overwhelming energy. The park felt like a refuge, a place where the intensity of the outside world couldn't quite reach you. Jiseok spotted a secluded bench beneath the shade of a large, ancient tree, its branches stretching out like a protective canopy. The dappled sunlight danced through the leaves, casting a soothing pattern on the ground, and the bench offered a quiet place to rest, away from prying eyes and the relentless pace of the market.

Once seated, Jiseok remained close, his presence a calming force beside you. Your breath, which had been shallow and quick, began to slow as you settled into the quiet of the park. Jiseok's fingers found their way to your hair, gently playing with the strands in a tender contrast to the earlier harsh tugging you had subjected them to. The soft rhythm of his touch was a balm, easing the lingering tension in your body. His other hand rested on your thigh, grounding you with its comforting weight.

He spoke in a low, soothing tone, his words a gentle caress to your frayed nerves. "We can leave whenever you're ready," he suggested, his gaze drifting out to the serene view of the park, "Maybe we can grab some food and cuddle at the dorm. I'm sure the members won’t mind. I’ll kick Seungmin out of our room if I have to; he’ll just have to suck it up."

As the tension within you began to melt away, you found yourself repeating the last few words of his sentence—a familiar and comforting habit, a happy stim that signaled your return to a place of calm. "...have to suck it up," you echoed, your voice lighter now, carrying the trace of a smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

Jiseok chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket of comfort. He squeezed your hand gently, checking to ensure your nails were no longer digging into your palm. "That's my favorite sound," he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he grinned at you, his love evident in the gentle curve of his smile.

This shared moment of lightness, of humor, further dispelled the remnants of your anxiety. In his presence, you were reminded that you didn’t have to face these moments alone—that even in your most vulnerable states, Jiseok was there, offering his unwavering support and love. The park, with its serene beauty and the quiet strength of your bond, became a haven where you could breathe again, surrounded by the safety of his embrace.

오승민 ── OH SEUNGMIN.

JYP Entertainment hosted an exclusive and lavish party at a luxury hotel, where the atmosphere blended the grandeur of celebration with the intimacy of a private gathering. Unlike the typical public events, this one was strictly by invitation, creating a sanctuary for idols to bring their partners, friends, and families without the constant pressure of cameras. The setting was resplendent, with elegant decor that reflected the significance of the occasion.

The entertainment options catered to a variety of tastes. In one corner, a live band played soft jazz, filling the room with soothing melodies. Nearby, a DJ spun upbeat tracks, enticing those who wanted to dance. For the more playful guests, a karaoke setup allowed for uninhibited fun, and a photobooth adorned with glittering lights stood ready to capture the night’s memories. A gourmet buffet stretched along one side of the room, offering an array of international cuisines, the rich aromas mingling with the laughter and chatter that filled the air.

Despite the festive atmosphere, the constant flashing of lights and the relentless pulse of the music began to overwhelm you. This was your first time attending an event of this magnitude, and though you had agreed to come because of the way Seungmin’s eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of sharing this moment with you, the environment soon proved too much. Even as you admired him, his figure so striking in the finely tailored suit that accentuated his lean, muscular build, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the grand room was closing in on you. Your hands trembled despite your best efforts to maintain composure, and a cold sweat began to form along your hairline.

You stole a glance at Seungmin, who stood a short distance away, his face illuminated with genuine joy as he engaged in animated conversation with his bandmates and senior idols from the company. They were discussing the future direction of their music, reminiscing about their journey since debuting, and Seungmin’s laughter rang out, a clear sign that he was fully immersed in the moment. For a brief second, you hoped that his distraction would allow you to slip away unnoticed, just for a moment, to calm the rising tide of anxiety within you.

The party, though well-intentioned, was far beyond your comfort zone, and the sensory overload was beginning to take its toll. You needed to escape, to find a quiet space where you could breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on you. But as you discreetly made your way to the bathroom, seeking refuge from the overwhelming stimuli, Seungmin caught sight of your retreating figure. 

Unbeknownst to you, Seungmin had anticipated the possibility of you feeling overwhelmed in such a busy atmosphere. Understanding how easily you could be overstimulated, he had made sure to pack your well-loved noise-canceling headphones in the expensive messenger bag his stylist had provided. As soon as he saw you slipping away, his concern for you took precedence over the conversation, and he politely excused himself, following you to the bathroom.

Upon entering the lavish bathroom, Seungmin offered a polite bow and murmured apologies to the few occupants before your shallow breathing caught his attention. He quickly moved to stand outside the stall where you had taken refuge. 

"Love? It's me," he called softly, his voice gentle and soothing, careful not to startle you in your vulnerable state. Inside the stall, your hands clenched in a futile attempt to stop their violent trembling as you struggled to steady your breathing. 

Seungmin reached over the door, his hand holding the familiar headphones — a lifeline in the storm of your frenzied thoughts. "I thought you might need this," he murmured. 

You reached up and snatched the headphones, the urgency in your movements reflecting the desperation you felt. As you placed them over your ears, the chaotic world outside was mercifully muted. The overwhelming cacophony faded, replaced by the comforting silence you had so desperately needed. Finally, you could breathe again, the noise-canceling barrier providing a sanctuary where you could begin to reclaim your peace.

You were immensely grateful for Seungmin’s patience, relishing the brief respite as you took a few moments to catch your breath. The bustling noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, creating a cocoon of calm around you. Just as you began to steady yourself, your phone vibrated in your hand — a text from Seungmin, despite him standing right outside the bathroom stall. His name illuminated the screen, and a calming wave of relief washed over you, your erratic heartbeat finding a more measured rhythm.

Seungmin understood that in moments like these, communication through text would be the most comforting method. The message on your screen read, Feeling any better? 

Your fingers, still slightly trembling, moved to reply. A lot better, thanks to you. Everything just became a little too much for me. 

The reply came almost instantaneously, and you noticed how the tight, claustrophobic feeling had dissipated. I’m glad I thought of bringing the headphones. Why didn’t you tell me though? The words on the screen seemed to convey a trace of concern, as though you could almost see the frown forming on his lips as he awaited your response.

A pang of guilt pierced your heart. You knew Seungmin would have dropped everything to help you if only you had spoken up. But you didn’t want him to worry or to spoil such a significant night. I didn’t want to ruin such a big night. I thought I would be able to handle it...until I couldn’t anymore. You sent the message with a sigh, already anticipating the comforting words that would follow. 

Baby, these parties mean nothing compared to your well-being. You didn’t ruin anything, I promise. A warm smile tugged at your lips as you read his soothing words. 

Moments later, another text from him appeared. Do you want to stay here for a bit, or would you like me to take you somewhere quieter? 

Relief flooded over you as you replied, Can we stay here for now? I don’t want to go back out yet. 

Of course. Do you want to let me in? The offer was genuine and well-intentioned, but it made you feel uneasy. 

You texted back, No. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can handle being touched or having anyone at close proximity right now...sorry. 

Hey, I get it. I’ll just stay here until you’re ready to come out.

Seungmin settled in by the door of your stall, his presence a reassuring anchor in your storm of anxiety. Leaning against the door, he continued to text you intermittently, checking in without overwhelming you. Despite the guilt that gnawed at you for keeping him away from the main event, you found solace in the sight of his polished shoes peeking out from beneath the stall door. His calm and patient demeanor provided a sense of security, a reminder that he was there for you while respecting your need for space.

To lift your spirits, Seungmin sent small jokes and snippets of gossip from the party, aiming to lighten the mood without pushing you too far. His thoughtful gestures made the wait more bearable. When you finally felt ready to emerge, you texted him, signaling that you were prepared to leave the bathroom. Seungmin maintained a respectful distance as he guided you out, his focus on ensuring your comfort. He stood by your side, a steady presence as you stood by the bathroom sinks, allowing you to regain your composure.

As you began to feel more at ease, your heart soared when Seungmin gently pulled you closer, swaying with you to the rhythm of a slow song that was apparently playing at the main party. The music and his embrace melded together in a soothing harmony, offering a sense of peace and connection that made the night’s earlier chaos feel like a distant memory.

한형준 ── HAN HYEONGJUN.

You and Hyeongjun had been together long enough to know that your bond was more than just a fleeting connection—it was a deeply rooted love, a steadfast commitment that had withstood the test of time. The idea of moving in together had always felt like the natural progression of your relationship, a step that would solidify the foundation you had built together. The thought of creating a home, a sanctuary where your love could continue to blossom, was a dream you both held close to your hearts. 

After months of searching, of walking through countless doorways in hopes of finding the one that felt right, you finally discovered a small, charming apartment nestled in a quiet neighborhood. It was perfect in its simplicity, a place that felt like it could become your own little haven away from the world. The moment you stepped inside, hand in hand with Hyeongjun, you could almost see the future unfolding before your eyes—a future filled with love, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.

However, as thrilling as this new chapter was, the journey to get there was anything but easy. The excitement that buzzed in your chest was often tempered by the looming dread of packing up your lives and making the transition into this new space. Despite the weeks you had spent mentally preparing, gathering boxes, and organizing your belongings, the reality of the task ahead felt overwhelming once the packing began in earnest. The room that had once been your sanctuary, a place of comfort and familiarity, now looked as though it had been ravaged by a chaotic whirlwind. The bed, once a cozy nest of warmth, was buried beneath a patchwork of clothes—some folded neatly, others discarded haphazardly in the frenzy of sorting. Your once-tidy shelves had succumbed to disorder, with books that had been carefully arranged now lying in disarray, their pages splayed open as if they, too, were crying out for the order that had been lost.

Boxes were strewn across the floor, some half-packed, others overflowing with belongings that seemed to resist categorization. Trinkets and mementos from your relationship and childhood, tokens of memories that had shaped you, were scattered across every available surface. The room had become a chaotic testament to your inability to start a task and see it through to completion, the once-organized process now devolved into a mess that mirrored the storm of emotions brewing within you.

As you stood in the center of the chaos, trying to take it all in, the room seemed to close in on you. The sheer magnitude of the task at hand made your head spin, and the weight of the change—of leaving behind the familiar to step into the unknown—pressed down on you like a heavy blanket, smothering you with a growing sense of panic. Your breaths came in shallow gasps, your chest tightening as the reality of what lay ahead threatened to overwhelm you entirely. You felt frozen, trapped between the urge to curl up on the floor and the fear of succumbing to the full-blown panic attack that you could feel building inside you.

In that moment, the dream of a shared home, of a future filled with love and laughter, felt impossibly distant, overshadowed by the immediate reality of the overwhelming chaos that surrounded you.

Hyeongjun had been meticulously packing utensils in the kitchen, each clang and clatter a small, careful note in the symphony of your impending move. The rhythm was comforting in its predictability, a soundscape of progress amidst the chaos. But it was the sudden, uneven hitch in your breathing that cut through his focus like a knife. The familiar, faint tremor in your breath sent his instincts into overdrive. He abandoned the half-filled box without a second thought, his concern drawing him swiftly to the doorway where he paused, eyes immediately searching for you. The room’s disarray only served to heighten his worry, but it was the look on your face—pale, strained, eyes wide with the first signs of panic—that sent him rushing to your side.

His presence was immediate, solid, a tether in the storm of your thoughts. His hands hovered just above your trembling frame, a question in the tension of his fingers, as if even the act of touching needed your permission in this fragile moment. His voice, calm and steady despite the urgency he felt, broke the silence, "Touch or no touch?" It was the question he always asked, a gentle reminder that he was there, ready to offer exactly what you needed.

Your throat tightened, the pressure of unspoken fears constricting your ability to breathe freely. It took a moment, but you managed to force the words past the lump of anxiety, your voice barely above a whisper yet laced with raw desperation. "Touch, please. Hard." The plea was met with immediate action. Hyeongjun closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you with a firm, reassuring pressure that felt like a lifeline. He pulled you close, your face pressed into the warm, solid comfort of his chest, as if he could shield you from the overwhelming chaos that threatened to consume you.

His embrace was everything you needed—strong, grounding, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety. His hands moved over your back, each squeeze purposeful, designed to remind you that you weren’t alone in this moment. The weight of his arms anchored you, offering a physical connection that countered the spinning in your mind. As you struggled to sync your breathing with his, he guided you gently, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, coaxing your frantic gasps to slow. The familiar scent of him—warm, comforting, like home—began to permeate your senses, grounding you further with each breath.

Hyeongjun understood you in a way no one else did. He knew how deeply change unsettled you, how even the most exciting transitions could unearth old anxieties that clung like shadows. This move, this beautiful step into a shared future, was something you had both yearned for, yet the enormity of it was daunting, and he recognized that. 

Still holding you close, he gently guided you to the edge of the bed, never loosening his protective grip. His voice, soft and steady, filled the space between your breaths. He began to speak, his words a soothing balm, painting a picture of the memories he hoped to create with you in your new home. 

He spoke softly of lazy Saturday mornings, where the two of you would linger in bed, wrapped in each other’s warmth as the world outside moved on without you. He painted a picture of sunlight streaming through the windows, casting golden hues across the room as the smell of fresh coffee filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of your shared space. He imagined those moments when you would shuffle into the kitchen, still half-asleep, to find him waiting with a mug in hand and a soft smile on his lips. The day would stretch out before you, unhurried and serene, a canvas for whatever simple joys you decided to indulge in. 

He envisioned quiet evenings in the living room, where the two of you would sit side by side, your legs tangled together as you watched movies, your laughter or quiet conversations filling the room. Or perhaps, he mused, there would be nights where no words were needed—where you’d simply sway to the rhythm of music only the two of you could hear, dancing slowly in the dim light of your cozy space. Those were the moments he looked forward to, where nothing else mattered but the gentle pulse of your love, a steady, comforting presence that would fill the apartment with a sense of belonging.

He spoke of the laughter that would echo through the kitchen as you experimented with new recipes, each attempt a delightful adventure, whether it ended in culinary success or a flour-covered mess. The thought of you animatedly talking about bees, your special interest, brought a tender smile to his face. He was excited to hear you ramble on about your latest findings, to listen to your voice light up with passion as you shared the intricacies of something you loved so dearly. For him, the simple joy of coming home to you after a long day, of seeing your face light up when you saw him, was a treasure beyond words. It was in these everyday moments, he believed, that the true beauty of life together would unfold.

Each word he spoke was a delicate thread, weaving a tapestry of the life you would build together—a life rich in love, comfort, and endless moments of shared happiness. As he continued to paint this picture with his words, you felt the tightness in your chest begin to ease, the panic that had gripped you slowly loosening its hold. The overwhelming mess that surrounded you, while still daunting, no longer felt like an insurmountable mountain. 

When he offered to help you pack your bedroom, it wasn’t just the task at hand he was addressing—it was the unspoken promise that you wouldn’t have to face any of it alone. With Hyeongjun by your side, you knew that no matter how overwhelming the process might seem, you would get through it together. The future you were moving toward, though filled with uncertainties, was also brimming with the promise of love, and that was more than enough to keep you going.

이주연 ── LEE JOOYEON.

Since childhood, Saturdays had been your sacred ritual, a cherished time when you sought refuge in the comforting embrace of your favorite internet cafe. Nestled on a tranquil street near your home, this digital sanctuary had become your second haven. The space was a dimly lit enclave, bathed in warm amber hues that softly illuminated rows of screens and keyboards. The gentle hum of cooling fans and the rhythmic clatter of keys created a soothing symphony of focused activity. The walls were adorned with neon posters of popular games and vibrant advertisements for energy drinks, their colors shimmering and pulsing with the memories of countless gaming sessions. Each desk bore the marks of countless hours spent in virtual worlds, with personal touches and signs of frequent use that told stories of dedicated gamers. The chairs, worn and comfortable, had molded to fit their occupants perfectly.

The employees, who had long grown accustomed to your weekly visits, had come to appreciate your presence. They reserved a specific PC for you, tucked away in a semi-secluded corner you had claimed as your own years ago. This desk, bathed in the soft, reassuring glow of your screen, was where you felt most at ease, completely immersed in the digital adventures you embarked upon. The ritual of arriving, settling in, and losing yourself in your chosen game was a comforting certainty, a bubble of predictability in a world that often felt overwhelming.

However, recently, this cherished routine had been disrupted by a new and vibrant presence. Jooyeon, as you would eventually learn, was the boy whose frequent visits began to unsettle the calm monotony of your Saturdays. His arrival was like a burst of vivid color and exuberant energy crashing into your serene haven. The air would come alive with his boisterous laughter and animated conversations with friends, his presence a dynamic contrast to the quiet you had grown accustomed to.

Despite this disruption, you found yourself surprisingly receptive to the change. Jooyeon, with his strikingly handsome features, was impossible to overlook. His mischievous grin, ever-present and wide, seemed to illuminate the room as if he were the very essence of playful charm. Dressed in soft, well-worn hoodies paired with relaxed jeans, and with his shoulder-length hair cascading like a dark, flowing waterfall, he exuded an effortlessly cool demeanor. His interactions with friends and his choice of games created a vivid contrast against the backdrop of your reserved routine, adding an unexpected layer of excitement to your once predictable Saturdays.

There were moments when, despite your best efforts to stay focused on your own game, you would catch fleeting glimpses of him from the corner of your eye. You tried to remain unobtrusive, but Jooyeon's unabashed enjoyment of the popular games he was engrossed in was impossible to ignore. The occasional flicker of movement or the burst of his distinctive laughter would effortlessly draw your gaze, breaking through the veil of your concentration.

On one particular Saturday, Jooyeon’s frustration had reached its zenith. After what felt like the hundredth defeat in his solo game, he dramatically slumped back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head in a gesture of surrender. His eyes, alight with a mixture of defiance and amusement, wandered towards your screen, where you were deeply immersed in a particularly demanding quest. As you navigated through the game with meticulous keystrokes, Jooyeon’s gaze lingered on you, an unspoken challenge mingling with curiosity that sent a flutter through your heart.

Despite the distraction of his intense scrutiny, you managed to achieve a hard-fought victory, leveling up with a triumphant flourish on your screen. The soft hum of intrigue that escaped Jooyeon’s lips prompted you to finally look up, your heart racing as you became acutely aware of the flush warming your cheeks. Jooyeon’s grin remained undiminished, his eyes sparkling with an affectionate, teasing light. After a moment of shy silence, his laughter bubbled forth, a soft, infectious sound that seemed to fill the space between you. His amusement wrapped around you like a playful embrace, acknowledging the unspoken connection that had quietly woven itself into the fabric of your Saturday rituals.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low murmur, meant only for you to hear. “I heard that game is pretty good. Do you mind if I join?” The simple invitation opened the door to a new, intimate connection. From that moment on, Saturdays transformed into a shared adventure, where you and Jooyeon would indulge in games together, swapping playful jabs and cracking jokes. The hours spent with him became the highlight of your week, and the growing affection you felt for him added a layer of significance to each interaction. You found yourself seeking ways to show him how much he meant to you.

Noticing his habit of picking at his skin whenever he was stressed or anxious, you returned the following week with a thoughtful gift: a textured, silicone stress ball from your own collection, designed to help him redirect his nervous energy without damaging his skin. On another occasion, as you patiently waited for him to clear a level in a game you were both playing, you couldn’t help but be charmed by the expression of concentration on his face. Without fully thinking through your words, you blurted out, “You have this cute habit of pouting when you’re really focused. It’s kind of distracting, but in a way that makes me want to keep watching.” The sudden boldness of your words left you both blushing, but Jooyeon’s shy attempt to hide his wide smile made the moment feel worth the slight embarrassment.

When Jooyeon revealed that he was an idol, the bassist for the rock band Xdinary Heroes, you found yourself spending the entire week immersed in his music and learning everything you could about him. By the time Saturday rolled around again, you were eager to confess your newfound knowledge. As he settled into his usual seat beside you, you said with a grin, “I was thinking about you so much that I ended up reading every article, watching every video, and listening to every song from your band. I have so many questions about you guys!” The sight of Jooyeon’s typically casual demeanor giving way to shyness, while his grin widened, was heartwarming. He eagerly entertained each of your questions, his enthusiasm is infectious as ever.

Finally, on one late evening, as the employees of the internet cafe gently nudged you both towards the exit, you lingered outside, a smile playing on your lips. Turning to Jooyeon, you said softly, “I really like spending time with you. You make my brain feel all fizzy, like I’ve had too much caffeine, but in a really good way.” 

To your surprise, he chuckled lightly and replied, “Okay, so, I don’t usually say stuff like this, but...whenever I’m with you, it’s like my brain gets all tangled up in butterflies and excitement. I really like spending time with you, too.”

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ My permanent taglist is open! @joosbasschick (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS!

ah okay, um, this is gonna be a long one😅

the thing about me is that i’ve always been a casual listener of music in any genre (with the exception of one direction when i was 11), so a lot of these groups i don’t really know a lot about or follow, i just like some songs from them.

i grew up with mamamoo. they were my first introduction to k-pop. i’ve been listening to their songs since debut, and fell in love their vocals. so sad that they aren’t really together anymore😞

actually, the first k-rock band i ever heard music for was rolling quartz, surprisingly since they’re not that famous. but just a casual listener for them.

because of rq i went digging to find other rock bands and found xdinary heroes. my ult group. love these boys so so much.

through xdh i discovered day 6. didn’t know much about k-rock until recently. still a casual listener though.

p1harmony. my friend and i actually started out watching their content first and then started listening to their music after. absolutely hilarious and so fucking talented.

i’m starting to get into stray kids. i haven’t listened to all their music, but i’ve really liked what i heard so far.

i like some songs from stayc, g-idle, aespa, nmixx, and blackpink.

sorry if this wasn’t quite what you were hoping for😭😭

- 🍀

That’s very fair! Most people I know are also casual listeners of music, but I physically cannot be like that if I like more than two or three songs from the same artist or group. I blame my autism and ADHD for that, I’m very obsessive when it comes to K-Pop (it’s my hyperfixation or special interest, whatever you call it). One Direction was my entire life when I was around that age, too! 😭 And then during Covid I fell back into their rabbit hole for their 10-Year Anniversary back when everyone was convinced they were gonna get back together 💀 but I’m out now, thank goodness!

You grew up with Mamamoo?! I’m so jealous! I came to find out about them after they’d stopped being so active as a group 😔 But I still wanna write for them so bad, my gay little heart needs it. Anyway, their vocals are no joke — they’re so incredibly talented and I feel like more people need to know about them. Who’s your bias? I’m OT4, but Solar and Moonbyul…👀

Rolling Quartz? Hmm, I think the name sounds vaguely familiar but I don’t think I’ve listened to their music. I’ll check it out!

Xdinary Heroes, my beloved 🥺 They’re so underrated it’s actually so insane!

Hello? I also write for P1Harmony? I actually have one piece published for them and I have like five different WIPs for them 💀 They’re so funny and talented, exactly! Also, the fact that they debuted with a whole ass movie? Insanity, but perfection. Who’s your bias? Mine is Jongseob (mostly because he gives me insane gender envy). My bias wreckers are Theo and Soul!

Ooh baby, Stray Kids is my ULT! I have almost 20 published works for them, I adore them so much like there’s genuinely no possible way to fully describe how much they mean to me. I could talk about them all day and night, so if you have any questions on them please hit me up! Do you have any biases yet? I’m 100% an OT8 so picking one member is not even an option 😫

Finally, the rest of the groups you mentioned are all I’ve heard of before but haven’t really sat down to get into them yet. Except for (G)I-DLE! I also write for them, and I have one WIP that’ll hopefully be posted soon!

Nah babe, this was so great! It’s crazy how much we have in common!

SIDE NOTE: Your newest requests have been added to the list 🫡 and I might do the OT6 one first because of the fluffiness and because it’s clearly a priority for both of our mental healths LMAO