illusionjeong

[illusionjeong]

I used to tell myself, ‘Maybe they’re going through something.’ But then I realized that I was too, and I never treated anyone that way.

[illusionjeong]

TWO BAD BITCHES AT THE SAME DAMN TIME

[illusionjeong]

one night - chae hyungwon

pairing: hyungwon x fem!reader . . . masterlist genre: fluff, a pinch of suggestive word count: 987 a/n: for @wonkierideul 😝 i blushed writing this HELP.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

the rain outside taps lightly against the windows, a soft rhythm that fills the quiet apartment.

the city beyond is blurred by mist, glowing lights scattered like stars in the night sky. the air smells like lavender and fresh linen, a warm setting into the space that makes it feel like time itself has slowed.

and in the middle of it all, you're wrapped in hyungwon's arms, pressed against his chest as he lazily plays with your fingers.

it's late, but neither of you feels like moving. the couch is soft beneath you, but hyungwon's embrace is softer.

his hoodie is slightly oversized, the fabric pooling around his wrists, and his hair is still damp from the shower he took earlier. he smells like something fresh and faintly sweet, something that makes you want to bury yourself deeper in him.

"you're quiet," he murmurs, his voice slow and drowsy. his fingers trace light patterns on the back of your hand, absentminded but soothing. "what're you thinking about?"

"you," you say simply.

he hums in approval, his grip on you tightening just a fraction. "good answer."

you roll your eyes but can't help the way your heart stumbles when he shifts, his other hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. his fingertips barely graze your skin, but the touch sends warmth straight to your chest.

"you're so warm," you murmur, nuzzling into the fabric of his hoodie.

hyungwon chuckles, the sound low and soothing. "that's because you're cold," he says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "you always are."

you scoff lightly. "are you saying i use you for warmth?"

"i'm saying i let you," he corrects, a teasing glint in his eyes.

you huff, but the truth is, he's right. his body is like a personal heater, and right now, with the rain whispering outside and the lights dimmed, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

his fingers continue their slow, feather-light tracing over your skin, traveling from your hand to your wrist, up the length of your arm. it's a simple touch, but it makes you hyperaware of how close he is, how easy it would be for him to feel the way your heart is racing against his.

"you know," he murmurs after a moment, "i could stay like this forever."

your heart skips.

there's something about the way he says it—so quiet, so certain, like he's not just speaking in passing but actually meaning it.

you pull back just enough to look at him, only to find out he's already watching you. his gaze is unreadable, but there's something soft about it, something so tender that makes your breath catch.

"you always say things like that," you whisper, feeling shy all of a sudden.

hyungwon smiles, brushing his nose lightly against yours. "because i always mean them."

your chest tightens, warmth spreading all the way to the tips of your fingers. you don't know how he does this–how he makes the most simple moments feel like something out of a dream.

you swallow, trying to steady yourself. "then don't just say it. show me."

his smile falters for a split second, like he wasn't expecting that. but then his expression shifts, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes before he exhales softly.

and then—without hesitation—he tightens his hold on you, pulling you impossibly close until there's barely any space left between you. his arms secure you against him, his chin resting against the top of your head, his heart beating steady and strong beneath your ear.

"this enough proof for you?" he whispers.

you barely manage to nod, too flustered by the sudden closeness and his grip on you.

but hyungwon isn't done.

he shifts slightly, his fingers tracing slow, delicate lines down your spine. his lips press against the top of your head, lingering there before trailing lower—his forehead brushing against your temple, the tip of his nose grazing your cheek. his movements are slow, deliberate, like he's savouring every inch of contact.

and then—so soft you almost miss it—he whispers, "i love you."

your entire body stills.

hyungwon has said sweet things before. he's teased you, made you blush, made your heart race a thousand times over. but this—this is different. this isn't a passing flirtation or an attempt to fluster you. this is real.

your fingers tighten around the fabric of his hoodie as you pull back just enough to look at him. he watches you carefully, his expression unreadable, like he's waiting for you to run.

but you don't.

instead, you reach up, gently cupping his face in your hands. your thumb brushes over his cheek, and for once, he's the one who looks flustered. his breath hitches slightly, his lips parting as if he wants to say something more—but you don't give him the chance.

instead, you close the distance, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips.

it's slow—unhurried, warm, like sinking into something familiar yet electrifying all at once. his hands move to cradle the back of your head, holding you close as he deepens the kiss just slightly, just enough to make your stomach flip.

when you finally pull away, your foreheads remain pressed together, the air between you thick with something unspoken but understood.

"i love you too," you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear.

hyungwon exhales sharply, a soft, breathless laugh escaping him before he pulls you right back into his arms.

"took you long enough," he murmurs, voice filled with nothing but warmth.

You roll your eyes but let yourself sink into him, smiling against his hoodie as his fingers trace soft shapes against your back.

the rain outside continues to fall, the city stretching beyond, but none of it matters.

because right now, wrapped in hyungwon’s arms, you realize that this—this quiet, sleepy, love-filled moment—is home.

and you never want to leave.

[illusionjeong]

"love?", you hear seokmin calling, his voice all soft but with a hint of dispair.

"um? do you need anything?"

seokmin appears from the bathroom, face covered with cream and a hazor on his hand. he smiles at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

"hell no!"

"y/n, please~"

"no, i'm gonna cut your face!"

"you will not, i trust you!", seokmin whines, stomping his feet. "love, my hands are hurting, i shouldn't even have applied the cream."

seokmin pouts too, and it's such a drastic view - lee seokmin, with his amazing fit, post shower... and a face covered in shaving cream, pouty lips in the middle. you sigh, your heart stings because you know his words are true; he has been battling against eczema once again, so it must be hard to do, well, anything.

"fine", you groan, biting back a laugh when he does a little jump to celebrate. "but please, don't move around too much, don't yap, don't even breathe."

"i won't, i promise."

and he keeps his promise. for the whole thing, seokmin doesn't even move a muscle - he just stays there, on the toilet seat, hands on your hips and eyes shining as he looks up at you. he hums sometimes, a tune still unknown to you, but that's as far as he goes. no words, no yapping, no moving around; just seokmin silently holding you as you work on his face.

and that's when it hits you-

"all the times you asked me to do this... was it because you wanted me close?"

again, no words - just a smile that reaches his eyes.

"guilty", he murmurs, caressing your skin under your shirt.

[illusionjeong]

supersweet | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which your superhero boyfriend takes aftercare really seriously. PAIRING. superman!kim mingyu x journalist!fem!reader GENRE. post-coital tooth-aching fluff, humour, establish(ing) relationship WARNINGS. mentions of sex, cursing, nudity (not explicitly described), mention of public indecency (used as humour), kissing, use of superpowers for aftercare, terms of endearment, mingyu cleaning reader up, they're both so in love i'm jumping off a cliff WORD COUNT. 2.3k

notes: unfortunately, i am still not over the superman movie and superman!mingyu in general. takes place after a scene in off the record <3

You hardly remember the last time you ever felt this warm.

Not just in the flushed, post-coital kind of way𑁋though, you won’t deny that your body is still thrumming, skin tingling from all the spots that were just thoroughly and gently kissed and worshipped. You’re still completely bare, the sheets are sprawled only up to your waist. The residual heat from the moments before have begun to calm now, and you find yourself surrounded by the quietness that comes right after. 

You just did Superman. Wait, that sounds strange𑁋no, you just did things with Superman. Dammit, that sounds even stranger. 

And you have no idea what to do with that thought. 

Instead, you just giggle.

It starts off small, a breathy sound that escapes your lips before you can even stop it. Beside you, Mingyu turns his head on the pillow to look at you, his dark hair all messy and eyes caught between bliss and disbelief. Gosh, it’s almost offensive how he still looks good even all disheveled. He blinks a few times, then grins𑁋bashful, yet smug as hell. 

“What?” he mutters gravelly. “What’s so funny? Did I do something?” 

You bite your bottom lip to suppress another laugh, shaking your head lightly. “No, just… Can’t believe I slept with Superman.”

Mingyu groans at your words, burying his flushed face back into the pillow. “Okay, rude. I have a name, you know.” 

You let out another airy giggle, rolling over so that you’re properly facing him now. “I know your name, farm boy. Doesn’t make it any less insane.”

He muffles something into the pillow that you can barely distinguish. Then, he finally lifts his face back up to meet you eye-level as well, his bare, unfairly sculpted pressing up against yours in the crumpled sheets as he drapes an arm over you. When you try to entangle your legs with him, a quiet wince leaves you.

Mingyu immediately stiffens.

“Hey, wait𑁋did I hurt you?” he asks worriedly, pulling his hand away as if he’s suddenly burned you. “Did I go too fast? Shit, I should’ve𑁋”

“What? No, no, I’m okay,” You say, cutting him off from his panic.

But it’s still not enough to convince him as he props himself up with one elbow, hovering slightly above you as his eyes rigorously scan over you. He looks like he’s searching for bruises, any sign of discomfort or regret that might have slipped past him during the heat of the moment. His brows are furrowed together, strands of his hair flopping adorably over his eyes, jaw tense as if he’s blaming himself for something that didn’t even happen. 

“God, I’m so sorry. You were just so beautiful and making all these sounds and I kind of got caught up and𑁋”

“Mingyu,” You call out his name again, reaching up to caress his cheek tenderly. “I’m okay. I promise.”

Mingyu pauses briefly, but when he catches sight of the small smile on your face, he visibly relaxes. His broad shoulders hunch back down, and he lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Okay, okay,” he murmurs softly. “But… you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Of course,” You reassure him, thumb brushing lightly over his jaw. “You just made me feel… a lot. But it was good. I felt… safe.”

His lips tug up from your words, a little sheepish and boyish. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, thank God. I was about to turn in my cape and resign.”

You nearly choke at that. “I𑁋you can’t just do𑁋”

But then he leans in and kisses you, shutting you up immediately. It’s sweet at first, barely there, just a shaky breath against your lips that already has your head spinning again. It isn’t rushed or heated like earlier. Then it becomes a little more firmer, a little more deeper, enough to have the two of you smiling and giggling into the kiss.

When he pulls back, he presses his forehead against yours, letting himself linger there for just a few moments. 

“Do you, uh… need anything?” he asks quietly. “I could get you some water or snacks. Or a heating pad. Or five pillows. Actually! Stay right here, I’ll be back.”

Before you can even retort, Mingyu’s already gone. Like, literally gone. 

One second he’s naked and in bed with you, and the next there’s a loud whoosh that causes the sheets and your hair to flutter from the force. You dazedly blink down at the now Mingyu-less spot right next to you, and you can’t help but shake your head and smile despite yourself. The air is still warm where he used to be. 

He’s actually ridiculous.

You don’t even have time to fully tug the sheets back up your chest before he’s back.

The gust of air ruffles your hair again, and suddenly Mingyu is standing at the foot of the bed, his arms full of shit and looking way too pleased with himself. There’s two water bottles, a bag of chips that he probably found in your pantry, a clean towel from your bathroom, and the blanket from your couch draped over his massive shoulders like a makeshift cape.

He’s also wearing boxers again, which are definitely not the same colour as the ones that are still somewhere on your bedroom floor, meaning he must have stopped by his own apartment too𑁋because of course he did. Maybe it was out of modesty, but honestly? Kind of hot. 

You stare at him. “Mingyu.”

“Yes, beautiful?”

Your heart skips at the pet name. “Did… did you just fly to your place just to get a fresh pair of boxers?”

Mingyu sets the pile of supplies at the end of the bed and beams like a cute and very proud golden retriever. “No one saw! Plus, these ones are more comfy. And I want to be comfy while cuddling you.”

“Oh, my God.” You cover your hands over your face, half-laughing, half-mortified. “Superman just committed public indecency.”

“I told you no one saw! I went at hypersonic speeds!” he defends, even giddily laughing himself and completely unbothered by the fact that he broke several laws of physics and indecency regulations. “I used my super hearing and super vision to make sure!”

“You flew with your ass out in public!” 

“For aftercare! This is the most important moment of my life!”

“Jesus Christ.”

As the laughter dies back down, you feel the bed dip from his weight as he settles right next to you again. The bag of chips rustles in his hands and he nearly drops the water bottle from trying to adjust into a comfortable position like the clumsy idiot he is. But when he’s finally seated, he helps prop the pillow behind your back for support.

“Is it okay if I clean you first?” he suggests, holding up the towel.

You look down at yourself, cheeks warming again to where the sheets don’t quite cover you, and then back up at him. A nervous, fond little grin stretches across his face, and you feel your brain short-circuit from it.

“Yeah,” You mutter quietly. “That’d be… really nice.”

Mingyu exhales loudly out of relief. You watch as his eyes turn a glowing red𑁋just for a second𑁋using just enough of his heat vision to warm up the water bottle, before pouring just the right amount on the towel and testing it out carefully on his own wrist. It’s so casual in the most absurdly superhero way possible. 

Then he scoots himself closer to you, eyes flickering up to your face just to make sure you’re okay with him touching you like this. When you give him another nod, that’s all he needs. 

He starts with your shoulders first, then your collarbones, then down your arms. You can barely look at him as he cleans you. Not because you’re ashamed or uncomfortable, but the way he’s so soft and gentle has you nearly spiraling again.

Your entire life has taught you to keep things at an arm’s length. You’re a journalist who pries in other peoples’ lies and built a career out of never trusting a single thing at face value. The only place in your schedule where vulnerability was allowed is during your late-night grinding fests with three deadlines piled on top of you. 

So how the hell did a fucking Kryptonian superhero𑁋of all things that live on this planet𑁋manage to punch a hole through every wall you’ve put up?

You instinctively flinch when you feel the towel a sensitive spot in between your thighs. Mingyu pauses right away. 

“Sorry! Are you okay?” he blurts out, eyes wide with concern. “Is the towel too cold? Should I reheat it?”

You shake your head swiftly in response. “No, just… A little sensitive.”

Mingyu’s features soften, and he lifts one of your hands up to his lips to press a reassuring kiss to your knuckle. “I’ll be more gentle. If it’s too much, you tell me, okay?”

God, you swear if he’s anymore supersweet with you, you may as well spontaneously combust, because you have no clue how to act about it. It’s as if cleaning you up after making love is a privilege, not a chore. 

He dabs carefully in between your thighs, his touch slow and gentle as he said, just enough to wipe away any remaining evidence of your earlier intimacy. You see the way his Adam’s apple bobs, how the tips of his ears are literally red, and hear the unsteadiness in his breath as he tries to focus on cleaning you, clearly struggling with the fact you’re still glowing and blissed out in front of him.

When he finishes, he tosses the towel aside, and places a kiss to the top of your knee, your thigh, and a final one to your shoulder. The affection sends a shiver running up and down your spine. 

“All done,” he says, tugging the blanket back over your body. “Still okay?”

You muster another nod. “Yeah. Are you?”

“I’m… better than okay.” He gives you that bright, dopey grin again, before reaching over to grab a water bottle and offer it to you. “Here. For you.”

A quiet thanks leaves you as you take a grateful sip. It’s almost natural how easily these next few minutes fall into place. Like the routine of something the two of you have always known, despite it only being after your first time with him and knowing this won’t be the last.

When you set the water bottle back on the bedside table, a pair of large arms immediately wrap around you, and you find yourself being pulled back into Mingyu’s still very naked chest. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck and lets out a soft sigh.

“Your heart is beating really fast,” he mumbles into your skin. “I love listening to it.”

You hum softly, carding your fingers through his hair. “Can you blame me? My boyfriend just committed aerial nudity for aftercare.”

Mingyu immediately straightens up from your words like a puppy smelling a treat, suddenly appearing more alert, more awake, as if you’ve unintentionally fired up every single one of his senses. He stares down at you with wide eyes in complete bewilderment, the tips of ears turning pink once more. 

“Say that again,” he says lowly. 

You blink. “What?”

“You know what.”

After a few moments, the realisation hits you𑁋because you did say that, didn’t you?𑁋and a sly smirk spreads across your face.

“Boyfriend?”

Mingyu stares at you for a good minute as if you’ve just dropped a nuclear warhead in the middle of the room. But then, a smile blooms across his face, and it’s so goddamn bright and pure and beautiful it may as well rival the entire fucking sun. His fists clench at his side like he’s trying to not get too overwhelmed, and then𑁋

“Holy shit, I’m your boyfriend,” he whispers, more to himself than to you, like he had just won the lottery. “You’re my girlfriend𑁋I have a girlfriend!”

Before a grin of your own can appear on your face, he’s kissing you again. It’s messy and uncoordinated and filled with so much happiness for it to be any less than perfect. A giggle escapes your lips when you feel his teeth accidentally knock against yours, then suddenly you’re rolling on your back again with Mingyu hovering above you, peering down as if you’ve given him the universe. 

“You’re so beautiful, angel,” he breathes out. “It’s unfair how beautiful you are that I… I just want to stare at you forever.” 

Your breath catches in your throat. It isn’t the first time he’s said that, and it certainly won’t be the last, but it still wrecks you every time. For a few moments, you allow yourself to just lie there and look at him. Not as the flying, goldlike being that the world worships. Not even as your awkward, giant dork of a coworker who spills coffee down his shirt and is continuously late to meetings. 

But just as… Kim Mingyu. With his messy hair, starstruck eyes, and an overly soft heart that he keeps trying to give to you again and again. 

And now, you’re giving your own heart back to him. 

You reach up to cradle his face in your hands. “Mingyu.”

“Yes, girlfriend?”

“Oh, my God𑁋”

“Hey! You just officiated me as your boyfriend so I get bragging rights,” he says with a dramatic pout. “I will not be shutting up about this for weeks.”

As you’re about to open your mouth again, he brightens up once more.

“Wait, wait, does this mean I get to leave a toothbrush here?”

“Mingyu!” You exclaim, bracing both of your hands on his shoulders. 

That finally snaps him out of his rambling daze𑁋that, and the way you’re staring up at him and he’s blinking down at you, all wide eyes and puppy guilt. You’re glaring right back up at him, though the lovesick smile to your face betrays you entirely. 

“If you don’t kiss me right now, I will be revoking your boyfriend privileges.” 

Mingyu freezes as if you’ve completely shocked him with a stun ray. 

“...Yes, ma’am.”

And then he kisses you.

Again.

And again.

And again.

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[illusionjeong]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄.

PAIRING: seo changbin x fem!reader WARNINGS: no use of y/n GENRE: fluff PLAYLIST: here WORD COUNT: 820 NOTE: first changbin fic woooowowoooowo

navigation | request | seo changbin masterlist

you don’t mean to hard launch changbin.

not on your main anyway.

you’d been playing it cool for months, slipping blurry shoulder shots of him into your private stories, letting your friends guess who was under the hoodie in the drivers seat.

who bought you the iced coffee you were sipping in the mirror selfie, who the hell had abs like that in the picture you took of ‘the view’ on your hike.

it was a fun little secret.

and changbin was in on the game. he’d nuzzle into your neck and ask, “did they figure it out yet?” whenever you posted something dangerously close to exposing him. he didn’t mind staying hidden. 

he liked it, even. “more time for me to have you to myself,” he’d whisper, kissing just under your jaw.

but then it happens.

a normal saturday morning. sunlight through your curtains. changbin still half asleep, skin warm, arm flung over your waist as he mumbles something into your pillow. and you.

you’re just lying there watching him, heart squeezing in that quiet, almost a stunned way it does every time you realise he’s really yours.

so you take a picture.

no teasing angle this time. just him. shirtless. bare faced. silly pout pulled into his lips, hair all tousled. he’s gorgeous. so clearly in love with you. one arm wrapped around you like he couldn’t stand to not be touching you, even in his sleep.

you snap the photo.

and without thinking, without checking, you post it. captioned:

“still can’t believe i get to wake up to this 😩”

to your main.

where everyone follows you. where your classmates, coworkers, your mom, your ex, and most dangerously of all, binnie’s entire fandom can see it.

it takes you two full minutes to realise what you’ve done.

you’re brushing your teeth when your phone buzzes once. then again. then twenty more times in a row.

by the time you rinse your mouth and check the notifications, your stomach drops.

"omg is that changbin??" "you’re dating seo changbin??” "why didn’t you say anything??" "girl. the way he’s cuddling you." "he looks so happy aww" "i am sobbing he is in love."

and worst of all…

“this is gonna cause chaos lmaooo he’s so dead with management 😂”

you lunge back into your room. “changbin,” you gasp.

he stirs, eyes still closed. “mm?”

“i… i posted you.”

“yeah?” his voice is thick and raspy with sleep, still groggy. “what picture?”

“the picture.” your fingers are trembling now. “the one from this morning. i– i meant to put it on my private, and i accidentally… i hard launched you. on my main. like, everyone saw it. everyone.”

his eyes blink open at that. “everyone?” he repeats, sitting up a little. “like… your friends?”

“no,” you croak. “like the entire internet.”

there’s a beat of silence.

then he laughs.

like– belly laughs.

this wide, sleepy, grin spreads across his face as he stretches his arms above his head and blinks at you like he just woke up to the best news of his life. “you really posted me?”

“changbin! this is not funny–”

“no, baby, it’s great,” he says, still smiling as he reaches for your wrist. “do you know how long i’ve been waiting for you to do that?”

you blink. “you’re not mad?”

“mad?” he tugs you onto the bed and into his lap. “i’ve been soft launching you for months too, you know. i posted your elbow last week and they practically started a manhunt.”

“that’s not the same as this–”

“i know, and that’s why i love it.” his hands settle on your waist. “you accidentally told the world you’re mine. that’s hot.”

you stare at him, still breathless, still halfway panicking. “you’re literally going to get in trouble.”

he shrugs, nuzzling into your neck as if nothing in the world could bother him. “worth it.”

“you’ll get pulled into a meeting. they’ll ask if you’re dating. they’ll probably give you a warning.”

“then i’ll tell them i am dating you. that i love you. and that i don’t regret it.” his voice is so casual. 

“and if they have a problem with that, they can deal with it.”

you go quiet.

your phone is still buzzing beside you. friends asking questions, fans reposting your picture, people losing their minds over how soft and cozy he looked, but none of that matters when he turns your chin toward him and looks you in the eye.

he just beams.

the kind of grin that lights him up from the inside out. that makes his eyes crinkle, and his dimples show, and his hands squeeze at your hips. “best wake up of my life.”

you bury your face in his shoulder with a groan, but he only laughs and wraps himself tighter around you.

“let them talk,” he whispers into your hair. 

“i’ve never been prouder to be yours.”

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[illusionjeong]

last night - 최승철

(1.1k words)

warnings: mdni! not smut but mentions of seungcheol and reader sleeping together so a bit suggestive, hurt/comfort i guess???

a/n: the writer’s block is KILLING ME but i thought it’d help if i write something shorter to battle it :33 also seungcheol’s been on my mind a lot lately sooo

the bed was empty when you woke up.

there were no signs of him other than the disheveled sheets on the now empty side of your bed and the smell of his cologne lingering on the pillows. you cursed yourself for thinking it was going to be any different.

you didn’t have much time to think about it, though, as your headache hit you like a slap to the face just mere seconds after. now you were regretting drinking the night prior - but it was hard not to when seungcheol looked at you with that pout of his, complaining that he needs a drinking buddy because he won’t be caught dead drinking alone.

choi seungcheol was the workplace crush blueprint; handsome, charming, always willing to lend a helping hand, fighting with the higher ups for those who might’ve been too afraid to speak up about their mistreatment. given that the two of you worked in the same department and your desks were right across from each other it wasn’t surprising that you became friends.

but alcohol has a funny way of blurring the lines in relationships. and it definitely worked its magic yesterday evening, leading both you and seungcheol straight into your bedroom.

a sigh left your lips, hands reaching up to rub your temples as you closed your eyes. you sat up, back pressed against the cold wood of your bedframe as you took in the state of your bedroom - clothes from last night still laying on the floor right next to the pink rug seungcheol gifted you as your secret santa last year, purse thrown lazily into the corner of the room. on the other hand, his things were nowhere to be seen: almost as if he’s disappeared into thin air, almost as if he wasn’t there at all.

you reached for your phone to check the time, thanking the universe that it was weekend already and you didn’t risk oversleeping for work. a few notifications from your friends popped up on your phone, messages of ‘text me when you wake up’ and ‘hope you arrived home safely’ earning a small smile from you as you typed your answers.

no text from seungcheol, though.

your headache was getting unbearable to the point where you couldn’t even lay down for any longer, standing up as you walked over to the door of your bedroom, hands trying to fix the mess on your head.

you saw him the moment you opened the door.

seungcheol was quietly sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen counter, a half-finished plate of waffles laying in front of him as he scrolled through his phone. his eyes averted from the phone and to you right as he heard your steps.

‘you’re up.’ he stated, a soft smile growing on his face. ‘i made you breakfast. i hope it’s not cold already.’

you blinked, silently taking in the image in front of you. seungcheol furrowed his brows slightly, surprised at your lack of response.

‘everything alright?’

‘i thought you left.’ you muttered quietly, taking a few steps forward, your eyes avoiding his gaze. ‘it was so quiet when i woke up that i thought you left.’

silence, again.

seungcheol was almost surprised at the implication of your words, watching as you sit down next to him to get your hands on the food he prepared.

‘you really thought i would leave like that?’ he asked, voice almost timid, stopping you mid bite.

‘i don’t know.’ you answered, another portion of the food already on the fork ‘i guess for a second i just assumed that you- i don’t know, regret what happened last night and that’s why you left early, to avoid the awkwardness of waking up after randomly sleeping with one of your colleagues. to avoid having to tell me it was just a mistake and that we should both pretend it never happened.’

seungcheol chuckled softly and you looked up to see his eyes focused on you, a look on his face which you couldn’t quite decipher.

you gave him a puzzled look.

‘you’re too precious for me to ever do something like that.’ he said, voice sweet and calm, with remnants of a morning hoarseness. ‘it pains me to know you thought that even for second.’

seungcheol’s hand reached for yours gently, eyes still fixed on you as he leaned in a little closer.

‘besides,’ he added quietly ‘were i to regret something, it would only be that i haven’t told you earlier. maybe when we both weren’t drunk out of our minds.’

‘told me what?’

he smiled and you couldn’t help but smile too, noticing how his dimples suddenly appeared on his face.

‘that i like you. hell, love you, even. i’m pretty sure that slipped my lips last night more than a few times.’

oh.

you stayed silent for a bit, as if to try and recall last night’s events. the look on your face told seungcheol enough for him to piece everything together, a laugh escaping his lips.

‘i must’ve had one too many drinks.’ you mumbled, ashamed that you didn’t even remember the details of what happened the night prior. ‘sorry.’

the man’s smile grew even bigger, as if he was scheming something.

‘don’t be. if you want to remember, i could lend you a hand and show you exactly what happened again.’

seungcheol’s offer seemed to pique your interest, your head shooting up at an almost comical speed.

‘so you don’t regret last night?’ you asked again, just for good measure.

‘i would be a fool to regret it.’ he stated, hand reaching to gently caress one of your cheeks. ‘it was a dream come true. one word from you and i’m carrying you to your bedroom bridal style again.’

‘you did that?’

‘you think you came up here all on your own?’

‘fair enough.’ you chuckled, breakfast long forgotten by now. ‘i might take you up on that offer, though. it would be a shame to sleep with your crush and not remember what it felt like.’

you yelped in surprise as you felt seungcheol’s big arms lift you up from the bar stool without a word, standing up as his feet marched towards your bedroom. you couldn’t help but giggle as you saw the look on his face and seungcheol couldn’t help but crack a smile as he laid you down on the bed, planting a small kiss on the top of your head.

‘well, let me remind you then.’

[illusionjeong]

[illusionjeong]

[illusionjeong]

Just One More ⋅ Han Jisung

Goodbyes always take a little longer thanks to your lovely boyfriend.

You were already running late. Your phone vibrated with another notification, no doubt a reminder that if you didn’t leave now, you’d never make it on time. But your boyfriend had a way of making time feel irrelevant.

"Okay, I really have to go now," you said, tilting your head up towards him.

Han pouted slightly, his warm brown eyes flickering with mischief. "Already?"

"Yes, already," you teased, leaning in to press a quick goodbye kiss to his lips. It was supposed to be short, a fleeting touch, but even in that brief moment, his lips curled into a smile against yours.

As you pulled back, he caught your wrist. "One more."

You rolled your eyes but indulged him, kissing him again.

He hummed, clearly pleased. "Mmm. Another."

"Hannie—"

"Just one more," he said, his voice laced with playful innocence.

You sighed in faux exasperation but leaned in once again, letting your lips linger just a second longer this time.

As soon as you pulled away, he tilted his head, eyes twinkling. "Okay, I lied. One more."

A laugh bubbled out of you. "Han—"

"Y/N—" he mimicked your tone, his fingers slipping around your waist. "You’re really gonna leave me like this? Cold? Lonely?"

You playfully shoved his arm. "You're literally going to the studio to be surrounded by your members in, like, ten minutes."

"Yeah, but they don’t give me kisses like you do," he murmured, his voice softer now. His thumb brushed against your jawline, his expression turning just a little more serious. "One last one. Promise."

You sighed, but it was a losing battle, and you both knew it. "Last one," you warned.

He grinned victorious and as you kissed him this time, he held onto you just a little tighter, just a little longer – just enough to make you wish you really didn’t have to go.

When you finally pulled away, his lips still ghosting over yours, he whispered, "I love you."

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "I love you too."

"Even if you're making me run late, again," you added.

Han gasped. "Hey! I’m just loving you!"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile as you stepped away. Just as you turned towards the door, you heard him call out with that same teasing tone—

"Okay, but would one more really hurt so much?"

masterlist

[illusionjeong]

PHOTOS YOU'VE TAKEN OF YOUR BOYFRIEND DK PT.2

please don't repost, requests open! | masterlist | sign up for the taglist

perm taglist: @bang-chan-my-man, @themothgraveyard, @remihrtsyou svt taglist: @yukichan67, @yukisroom97, @flipitkickit, @boddaramji-tomorrow, @felix-my-sunshine-aussie-boy, @bambisnc, @slytherinshua, @bbangbies, @xikskrrrs

[illusionjeong]

my wonkyeom heart 🥹💖

[illusionjeong]

༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

[illusionjeong]

──── 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗌. smg.

ׂ ִ 𝐒𝐔𝑀𝐌. 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝖽. • 𝐩. 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂 𝗑 𝑓. 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝐠. 𝑓𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝐰. pet names, 𝗉𝗁𝗒𝗌𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝑒𝑡𝑐. | 𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊.

reblogs + feedback = appreciated.

you flipped through the pages of your book, settling into the soft surface of your bed. mingi entered your bedroom as you became more immersed in your book.

he sighed loudly, walking towards the bed, not saying anything at first. he sat on his side of the bed for a moment; his back facing you as you continued reading.

after a few minutes, he turned to you, laying back and resting his head on your shoulder.

“hi, pretty boy,” you spoke softly, bringing your arm to wrap around him, burying your hand in his strands.

“hey.” he mumbled against your skin, almost pressing a kiss there. his arms rested against his sides, seeming like he wanted to wrap them around you but he didn’t.

“what’s wrong? hm?” you asked, glancing down at him for a split second. he inhaled, hesitating.

“nothing, i just..”

you closed your book, “go ahead, im listening.”

“i miss you..”

“but im right here, ming,” you giggled, combing your fingers through his hair once more. he shifted, his arms moving closer to wrap around you.

“no, i mean, you. your touch.. and—“ he stopped himself, his arms slithering around your waist, squeezing. his leg was thrown across yours as his body moved closer.

you started to realize what he meant, so you pulled him closer, placing a kiss in his forehead.

“why didn’t you just say so, baby?”

he shrugged, still trying to move closer, as if that were possible. he picked his head up off of your shoulder, glancing down at your lips before he pressed a small kiss against them.

he pecked them once, and then twice, which eventually turned into more kisses than you could count.

“mmph, mingi!” you laughed as he climbed on top of you, his hands coming to drift under your shirt, resting at your sides as he peppered more kisses against your lips.

“missed you..” he mumbled again before giving you one more kiss, one that was more deep, less playful but filled with love and passion.

💌 ──── finally a post from dollerin (we cheered) ^^

[illusionjeong]

somewhere just us (gunil) — nav

synopsis — when you follow gunil out of a coffee shop and into a hidden corner of the city, you realize that sometimes love feels less like falling and more like finding where you’re meant to be.

you never thought you’d be the kind of person who falls in love in a coffee shop, but here you are. the air smells like roasted beans and warm pastries, and the soft clink of ceramic mugs is the only thing that fills the space between you and him. gunil. he’s sitting across from you, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against the side of his cup, a melody you swear you can feel in your chest.

you don’t even remember how it started. maybe it was the way he smiled the first time you accidentally bumped into him at the counter, both of you reaching for the same croissant. or maybe it was the way he said your name, soft like a secret only he was allowed to know. either way, you fell, and you fell hard.

today, he’s wearing that navy blue sweater you love, the one that makes his brown eyes look even warmer. he catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“what?” he asks, voice low, teasing.

you shake your head, smiling into your latte. “nothing,” you lie, but he knows better. he always knows.

he reaches across the table, his hand brushing against yours, and it sends a shiver up your spine. you wonder if he feels it too. you hope he does.

“you’re a bad liar,” he says, lacing his fingers with yours. his hand is bigger than yours, his skin rough in places, calloused from years of drumming.

“maybe,” you whisper, feeling the words catch in your throat.

the world outside the window moves fast—cars honking, people rushing—but inside this little coffee shop, time slows down. it’s just you and gunil, a universe of two.

“i was thinking,” he says, tapping your knuckles gently, “we should go somewhere.”

“somewhere?” you echo, tilting your head.

he nods, eyes sparkling. “somewhere just us. no phones, no distractions.”

your heart trips over itself. it sounds perfect. it sounds dangerous. it sounds like love.

“okay,” you say, and his grin widens.

you don’t even bother finishing your coffee. he pulls you out the door, laughing when you nearly trip over your own feet. he catches you, steady and sure, and you wonder when you started trusting him with things bigger than your balance. like your heart. like your whole future.

the air outside is cool, almost crisp, and gunil leads you down streets you don’t recognize. he doesn’t let go of your hand. not once. you don’t ask where you’re going because it doesn’t matter. not when he’s the one leading you.

finally, you reach a small park tucked between two towering buildings. it’s quiet here, like a secret carved out of the city. there’s a little pond, a few ducks paddling across the surface, and a bench under a massive oak tree. gunil tugs you toward it and you sit down, your shoulders brushing.

he leans back, tilting his head to look up at the sky. you watch him, the way the sunlight kisses the curve of his jaw, the line of his nose. you memorize the moment, tucking it away somewhere safe.

“i’m glad i met you,” he says suddenly, not looking at you.

your heart stumbles again. you don’t know how he does that—says the exact thing you’re feeling before you even know you’re feeling it.

“me too,” you whisper.

he finally turns to you, eyes searching, and you wonder what he sees. the vulnerable parts you’ve tried to hide? the dreams you’ve been too scared to say out loud? the messy, complicated pieces of you that you thought no one could ever love?

you think maybe he sees all of it. you think maybe he loves you because of it.

“i don’t wanna rush you,” he says carefully, “but… i’m serious about you.”

your breath catches. the world tilts, just a little. not in a way that feels scary. in a way that feels right.

“i’m serious about you too,” you say, and you mean it with every piece of you.

he smiles then, that full, beautiful smile that makes you feel like you’re standing in the sun. that beautiful smile that hides his eyes. he reaches up, tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, voice barely more than a breath.

you nod, and before you can even think, he’s leaning in, and his lips meet yours.

it’s soft at first, tentative, like he’s memorizing the shape of you. then he deepens it, one hand cradling your face, the other still wrapped around your fingers. you taste coffee and sweetness and something that’s purely, undeniably him.

when he finally pulls back, you open your eyes to find him already watching you, forehead resting against yours.

“everything feels right when i'm with you,” he says quietly.

you believe him. you believe him in the way the earth believes in the sun rising. in the way the ocean believes in the pull of the moon.

you smile, feeling something inside you settle, like you’ve found the place you were always meant to be.

“me too,” you whisper back.

and right there, under the wide open sky, with the city humming softly in the distance and gunil’s hand in yours, you know you’ve found something rare. something real.

something that feels like coming home.

@ezlynkisses @deerdosie

if you want to be tagged in my posts, click here <3

[illusionjeong]

His Spoiled Girl

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Idol!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bang Chan loves making full use of his Stray Kids leader money—especially when it comes to her.

Warnings: Mentions of sex, blowjobs, handjobs (you know… all the jobs), lingerie, daddy kink

A/N: Other members were requested! Lmk which Member you desire next.

୨ৎ Felix ୨ৎ Hyunjin ୨ৎ Seungmin ୨ৎ Jeongin ୨ৎ Changbin ୨ৎ Han ୨ৎ Leeknow

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Bang Chan wasn’t just her boyfriend.

He was her provider. Her protector.

It didn’t matter that he was knee-deep in deadlines, producing tracks until sunrise, answering five calls at once, and coaching the younger members like a seasoned general—

────୨ৎ────

The fur coat was stunning. Hand-delivered from Milan.

Not just fur. Cruelty-free, custom dyed in her favorite shade, with a golden nameplate on the inside that read:

“For my queen. - BC”Real Fendi. Snow leopard print, soft as sin, the kind of thing only his girl could pull off. She hadn’t even asked for it—just sighed once at a photo on her phone—and now it was hanging in her closet like it had always belonged there.

“I just mentioned it once,” she breathed, stunned.

“You don’t mention things to me, baby,” Chan said with a lazy smirk from the doorway, sleeves rolled, veins prominent, eyes dark. “You make declarations. And Daddy listens.”

────୨ৎ────

He was at the studio when she sent him the mirror selfie. Her in the coat, nothing underneath but lace.

Chan nearly groaned aloud, biting his lip as he watched the photo load. It was late, everyone else had gone home, but he was still at the mixer, sleeves rolled up, chest heaving with the weight of his next verse.

And now? Now he was hard.

He called her immediately.

“You tryin’ to kill me, princess?” he murmured, voice already thick. “You really put that on while I’m here working?”

She giggled sweetly. “I missed you.”

Chan’s response was immediate. “Stay right there. Don’t take it off. I’ll be home in fifteen.”

When he got back, she was waiting.

She was lounging on their bed, that coat slipping off one shoulder, her lips glossy, eyes wide and waiting. Chan stood in the doorway, jaw clenched, watching her like he hadn’t seen her in weeks.

“Come here.”

She obeyed instantly, crawling to him on all fours, the coat dragging behind her like a queen’s train.

He caught her chin between his fingers when she reached him, lifting her face to meet his eyes. “You know what this coat means, don’t you?”

She nodded. “That I’m yours.”

“No, baby,” he corrected, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “That you’re my only. And I take care of what’s mine.”

────୨ৎ────

There were perks to dating the leader of Stray Kids.

Like when she wanted a quiet date night, and Chan rented out an entire theater. Not just the movie—they projected a montage of her favorite K-dramas, edited together by a professional team he personally directed.

While she sat curled up in her fur, eating popcorn from a crystal bowl, Chan lounged beside her in joggers and a tight black tee, arm around her shoulder, legs spread like he owned the whole damn city.

Because he did. When it came to her—he did.

“Everyone should know what kind of taste my baby has,” he murmured against her temple. “And no one gets to enjoy it but me.”

────୨ৎ────

Her nails were fresh.

Long, almond-shaped, with crushed diamonds embedded in a sheer pink base. Chan had flown in a nail tech from Japan who only did private celebrity sessions. She didn’t even ask. He just made it happen.

He watched her trace a finger down his chest one night, those expensive nails glinting in the warm bedroom light.

“You like them?” she whispered.

Chan didn’t answer with words.

He grabbed her by the wrist, pressed her palm flat against his abs, and dragged it slowly lower until her hand was resting right over the hard bulge in his sweats.

“I paid for those hands,” he growled, voice thick. “Now put ‘em to work, princess.”

Her fingers twitched against the heavy outline in his sweats. He was already hard, aching, and she could feel the heat through the fabric—how thick he was, how much he needed her.

She didn’t rush.

Instead, she trailed her nails—slowly, teasingly—up his length, letting the crushed diamonds scrape softly through the cotton. Just enough to make him hiss.

Chan’s jaw tightened. “Don’t play.”

But she only smiled, sinking to her knees between his legs, those glossy, dangerous nails curling under the waistband of his sweats and pulling them down with a drag so slow it felt like torture.

His cock sprang free—heavy, flushed, leaking.

And her breath hitched at the sight.

All that for her.

She wrapped one manicured hand around him—delicate, expensive fingers closing around his base like they were sculpted for this. He groaned low, head falling back, and the sound made her clench.

She stroked him slow. Luxurious. Worshipful. Letting her rings clink softly with every glide. Her thumb swiped across the tip, spreading the bead of pre-cum with a practiced motion, her other hand resting light on his thigh, nails biting down with each twitch of his hips.

He looked down at her, eyes blazing.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice wrecked. “Spoiled little thing… working Daddy’s cock like a fucking jewel thief.”

She grinned—wicked and proud—and twisted her wrist just how she knew he liked it. Grip just right. Pressure perfect. The way only she knew how to do.

And when his hips started to stutter, when he cursed under his breath in three different languages, she leaned in and whispered, sweet and smug:

“Wanna come for me, Daddy? All over the hands you bought?”

His groan broke in his throat.

And seconds later, he did.

────୨ৎ────

Studio nights weren’t quiet anymore.

Sometimes, she came barefoot, wrapped in one of his oversized hoodies and nothing else, curling up on the sofa while he clicked through beats. Sometimes, she sprawled across his lap, thighs bare, pressing lazy kisses to his throat while he adjusted synth levels like it was just another Tuesday.

“Need to focus, sweetheart,” he’d murmur—but his hand would already be gripping her thigh, stroking slow circles, letting her know she was welcome anywhere he was.

She slid under the console like she belonged there, eyes glinting in the dim studio lights, lips already parted.

He didn’t say a word. Just let out a breath and leaned back slightly in the chair, the hand not working the mixer dropping to the side—to her.

She unzipped him slow. Silently. Pulled him out with both hands like unwrapping a gift she already knew by heart.

He was half-hard already. That changed the moment her warm breath ghosted over the tip.

She started with his balls—because she liked to tease. Wet, open-mouthed kisses along the soft skin. Tongue tracing slow circles. Gentle sucks, one after the other, until his thighs twitched and his breath caught in the mic.

“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

She giggled against him.

And then she moved up.

Took the tip between her lips. Swirled her tongue around it like candy. Then sank down in one long, greedy motion—until he hit the back of her throat.

Chan slammed his hand on the desk, pretending it was about a track beat.

In reality, he was struggling not to thrust into her mouth.

She set a rhythm—slow, wet, deliberate. Hands twisting at the base, spit dripping onto her fingers as she bobbed her head. Every time she hollowed her cheeks and moaned around him, his grip on the chair tightened.

“You’re insane,” he rasped, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m working—”

She pulled off with a pop. Whispered, “Then work, Daddy. I’ll just keep your stress levels down.”

And went right back down on him.

Deeper this time. No mercy. Her nails dug into his thighs while her tongue worked underneath, tip pressed into that sensitive spot beneath the head. She sucked like she was trying to milk him, and Chan was fucking losing it.

When she went back to his balls—licking, sucking, slurping—and stroked him at the same time?

That’s when he came. Hard. Into her mouth, into her throat, with his head thrown back and a low growl muffled by his sleeve.

She swallowed everything.

And when she came back up from under the desk, licking her lips like she’d just come back from brunch.

────୨ৎ────

When she missed him during tour, she didn’t cry. She waited—with full trust that he would make it up to her.

And oh, he did.

The moment he stepped through the door, he lifted her up, walked her straight to the bed, and unwrapped her like a present.

“My good girl,” he whispered, voice rough, eyes dark with hunger. “Waited so sweet for me.”

She moaned as his hands explored her body like it had been years, not weeks. His thrusts were punishing, praise spilling out between every deep stroke, his voice laced with so much heat and pride, it broke her open.

“Missed this pussy,” he growled. “Missed my perfect, spoiled baby.”

────୨ৎ────

Once, a stylist made the mistake of telling her she “looked expensive.”

Chan had overheard. And later that night, he chuckled as he kissed her bare shoulder and whispered:

“She is expensive. And I’m the only one who can afford her.”

────୨ৎ────

Chan knew she didn’t love him for the money. Not the furs, not the jewels, not the VIP service that followed her around like a shadow.

She loved him.

It was in the way she waited for him to get home, curled up on the couch in his hoodie, sleepy-eyed and soft. In the way she packed snacks for the studio because she knew he’d forget. In the soft kiss she left on his temple every morning before he woke up.

And God—when she showed up at the studio late at night, just to sit quietly and wait?

That did him in.

She’d curl up on the studio couch, that coat wrapped around her, half-asleep but still humming along to the beat he was mixing. No complaints. No demands. Just there for him.

That was why he spoiled her. That was why he had to.

Because she was more than his girl.

She was his Life.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

@sapphirewaves @bemyaehiweloveskz @velvetmoonlght

[illusionjeong]

right side of my neck — jeongin x reader ; established relationship (0.6k words)

your touch hater bf just wants to kiss you

happy holidays !!!!!!!!!!!

“Innieeeee.”

He’s falling deaf to your whines, one ear and out the other.

“‘M trying to sleep.” You mumble with sleep-riddled voice, trying to push the boy’s face away from yours.

He isn’t quick to give up.

“And ‘m trying to kiss my girlfriend.”

Jeongin’s someone that rarely craves physical intimacy despite having the most beautiful hands and the most perfect lips.

Not that you minded.

You think it’s endearing how he reserves it for you, in the comfort of baggy clothes and the security of his room.

You can’t help but giggle at him. Your touch-hater boyfriend practically begging to keep kissing you. You should relish in this moment a bit longer.

Because apparently he can’t wait until morning, or at least certainly not when he’ll have to be shaken awake in the early hours of dawn for practices and schedules.

His lips stay attached on your skin, open-mouthed kisses pressed on anywhere he can get access to—cheeks, forehead, lips, chin, neck, lips, shoulder, ear, lips.

“Let me kiss you?” Jeongin leaves a trail just before landing back on your lips, hovering. You don’t know what time it is, but you know it’s past midnight when he’s soft and malleable like this, and begging in slurred vocabulary.

“Please?”

This man is going to kill you one day.

“Okay.”

Your one-word response doesn’t even have time to fizzle out into the air when your boyfriend latches his lips onto yours in an almost neediness.

He’s hazy-eyed, limp-tailed in your arms, and he doesn’t continue down to any more than kissing like he usually does. He knows that you’re tired, so he keeps it at just making out.

It goes on longer than you have the breath for it.

Jeongin allows you the liberty of taking in more air, pulling out to look at the messy plump of your lips, and then your eyes.

He thinks, he should really let you sleep soon.

“One more, promise.”

He whispers, attention span not rich enough to say another word before he’s chasing your lips for the last time. And his hands stay gently at your waist, that it makes you feel warmer than you already do.

Then, when he’s sure he’s kissed you enough to suffice missing your lips during practice, he releases you, and breathes out, “Mkay, you can sleep now. Thanks, baby.”

His fingers hold your body in place that you’re still pressed against him, and it’s really such a delight to witness his droopy eyes and his love-drunk smile and the bashful tint of his cheeks. He dips into your hair, a smile ghosting his lips when he gets a trace of the shampoo he uses.

“Hm, goodnight my Innie.” Your head finds his neck like it’s routine, but he can still hear you mumble against his skin.

“Don’t call me that if you don’t want me to kiss you again.” Jeongin makes a complaining noise, always been weak when you put a possessive determiner before his name.

You can only laugh with your exhaustion.

If any of the boys were to walk in his room, you were sure they’d be surprised at the sight they’d be subjected to. The reminder of their youngest pointedly making attempts to avoid their hugs, just to beg for yours—Han Jisung would throw a tantrum.

(“He must really like her,” Minho says after a chance encounter finding you and Jeongin asleep on the couch.

His hair tickles the skin of your neck at how close he is, and there is a fond smile on Minho’s face at the sight.

“Don’t let Sungie see this.” Felix laughs.)

Jeongin falls asleep before you do. Turns out he wasn’t as awake as you thought he was, but your heart tingles at the thought that he’d spent his last remaining moments of consciousness kissing you.

That, instead of resting to get at least a decent amount of sleep before his schedules, he’d chosen to meet your lips.

“Goodnight, Innie.”

(You let him kiss you again, dumb and needy and soft and knowing, the next evening.)