#DAESUNG

[havonte]

(〃ω〃)

[mashtatosworld]

eyes on me (2)

summary: what feels like the end is often the beginning, because separation can bring people together just as fast as it tears others apart.

a/n: this is a jiyong x reader x daesung series <3

You had become used to waking up to him.

Even when travelling, in different countries and time zones, Jiyong always found a way to make you feel like he was right there beside you.

A sleepy text, a missed call, a voice note “good morning, my jagi” with that deep rasp of his voice. The way he said jagi made it feel like the safest word in the world.

Your life together had started on fire - fast, breathless, secret hookups and tangled bedsheets.

But it didn’t take long before the rush softened into something steadier.

Warmer.

Love had crept in somewhere between shared meals and quiet nights curled up with Iye on the couch, watching movies he'd fall asleep to halfway through.

What started in heat ended up becoming home.

His apartment slowly became yours, too.

Your toothbrush. Your favourite mug. Your slippers by the door. His clothes on your body. His scent on your skin. His future on your tongue.

It was all mapped out.

And once his Paris fashion trip wrapped, he’d come home to you.

The distance was temporary. The love wasn’t.

You’d talked about moving somewhere quieter. Maybe getting another cat. Maybe something bigger than a cat one day.

Everyone joked he’d propose soon. Youngbae had bet it would be by Christmas. Chae Lin had already started sending you engagement ring insporation over text.

And Jiyong?

He hadn’t exactly been subtle.

Whispering about baby names in bed. Pressing his lips to your neck, murmuring, “Can’t wait to marry you, jagi.”

He was your person.

It was real.

It was safe.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You woke to your phone vibrating so violently it nearly fell off the nightstand.

At first, you blinked through the blur of sleep, groggy and confused.

It was 5:42 a.m.

You weren’t used to waking up without a good morning message from Jiyong. But instead of him, you saw dozens of texts. Missed calls. Links. Screenshots.

“Is this real?”

“Tell me this was edited.”

“Did you know about this???”

Your fingers felt clumsy as you tapped open one of the links. Your stomach dropped.

There it was.

The headline.

Bold and ruthless.

“GDRAGON FASHION WEEK APPEARANCE CANCELLED AMID DRUG FOOTAGE LEAK”

And the video clip - god, you knew that footage.

You were there. You shot it. And you locked it in a private folder only you had access to.

It was from two years ago when you had been working on the MADE documentary.

He was laughing beside a table. A table with a rolled bill. A suspicious substance in the background.

It was blurry.

Inconclusive.

But not harmless. Not for someone like him.

You froze.

Your hands trembled.

You didn’t even have time to process before your phone started ringing again. His name flashing on the screen.

Ji 🖤

You answered instantly. “Jiyong - ”

“How could you?”

You barely got a word in.

“You really waited until I was at my highest just to pull me down, huh?” His voice was sharp, venomous. “Fucking liar."

You sat up, heart racing. He'd never spoken to you like that. Ever. “Wait - what? Jiyong, I - ”

“Drop the act!” he snapped. “I've already been told exactly where this has come from."

“I didn’t leak it, I swear to god - ”

“It was your fucking login, y/n!” he shouted. “The footage was accessed with your credentials. Do you think I’m stupid? That I wouldn’t find out?”

“I never touched those files!”

“Oh, and you never thought to get rid of them?!”

You pressed your lips together at that, feeling your stomach sinking. It had been an oversight, you had forgotten about the five second clip, an innocent mistake on your end.

One you were both now paying for.

“I should’ve known,” he hissed. “I knew it. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you. Was this the plan all along? Get close, get comfortable, and then expose me? What, were you waiting for the perfect moment to blow it all up?"

You were stunned.

Stung.

Like someone had punched the breath out of you.

“Jiyong, no - how can you even say that to me?”

“I could go to prison for this! My career, my life is on the line.”

“I know and I'm so sorry. But please, Ji, you know me - "

“I thought I did.”

That one landed like a knife.

“I thought you were different,” he said, voice breaking in fury. “I thought this was real. I thought you loved me too.”

“I do love you!” you denied, your voice splintering.

“I never want to see or hear from you again.”

The call cut.

And so did your world.

You sat there, breath caught in your throat, unable to move.

To cry.

To scream.

You looked around the room - the bed still messy from the night before. His hoodie tossed on the chair. Iye curled by the window.

A life you’d built, now unraveling in real time.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t think.

You grabbed the closest bag, stuffing in what you could.

Some clothes. Your charger. Your toothbrush.

You looked down at Iye, her big eyes blinking up at you, unaware of the chaos. You couldn’t leave her behind.

Jiyong was done with you. His management would come for you next. The headlines would multiply.

And you?

You were defenceless.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You hadn’t been to your apartment in months.

The keys felt foreign in your hand when you unlocked the door, stepping into a space that still smelled faintly of jasmine and books and something softer that used to be you.

You stood in the doorway for a long time, blinking at the stillness.

It was clean.

Unlived.

Like someone had pressed pause on this version of you the second Jiyong asked you to move in with him.

“Just sell it, jagi,” he used to say, shirtless in the kitchen, pouring you a glass of wine like a domestic dream. “You're always welcome here. With me.”

You never got round to selling it. And now you were glad.

Because now, it was the only place that hadn’t turned its back on you.

You dropped your bag in the hall, leaving it behind as you padded to the bedroom, Iye wrapped carefully in your arms.

And once you were settled beneath the white sheets, you drew them over your head and shut your eyes - praying that when you opened them again, that the nightmare would end and you'd wake up back in Jiyong's arms.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

The snow hadn’t started falling yet, but the sky promised it would.

The cold stung your cheeks that morning - the kind of winter air that made your nose pink, the kind Jiyong always said made you look like a cartoon bunny.

You were outside on the rooftop of his building, bundled in a scarf twice your size, holding two cups of coffee and waiting for him to finally wake up. He was a late riser, as usual.

The MADE tour had finally ended and things between you continued to blossom. Even though his schedule had slowed down, your relationship was growing by the day.

Sneaking through hotel corridors transformed into singing loudly in the car together, holding hands on late night walks and waking up to the comfort of one another.

Then the door opened behind you.

“There she is,” his voice came, groggy and velvet-smooth. “My snow angel.”

You turned, and there he was - half-asleep, dark hoodie and pyjama pants, hair tousled and sticking up in places.

“You’re not wearing socks,” you pointed out.

“I’m not wearing underwear either.”

You blinked.

He grinned. “Might be the cold weather talking.”

You laughed despite yourself and handed him the coffee. “Idiot.”

“Your idiot.”

He clinked his cup against yours and leaned in to brush the tip of your frozen nose with his own.

You stood overlooking the city, and he pulled you closer until your back was against his chest, leaning down to tug the ends of your scarf around your face until only your eyes showed.

He held your face in his hands like you were precious. Like you were fragile. Like he knew he was already in too deep and was praying you’d never let him drown.

“I want to tell you something,” he said, words clouding in the cold air.

“Mmhmm?”

“I think about you all the time,” he said simply. “Even when I’m working. Especially when I’m working. I can’t listen to anything without wondering if you’d like it. I can’t finish a lyric without seeing you. I think my next album is going to be full of love songs.”

You looked up at him, lips parting - but he wasn’t done.

“I love you,” he said. “And I don’t mean in the cool, casual, this-is-fun kind of way.”

Your heart stopped. It was the first time he truly said it. Of course, he'd slipped up a few times, mumbling it in the throws of passion or when ending a phone call.

But this was the first time he really looked at you and told you.

“Y/n, I love you in the I-want-you-there-when-I’m-old kind of way.”

The world quieted.

All of Seoul fell away.

And you said the only thing that made sense.

“I love you too.”

He smiled then, really smiled - that sleepy, unfiltered kind of joy he only ever wore with you. He leaned in and kissed you slow.

The kind of kiss that lingered.

The kind that said always.

Snow began to fall, gentle and soft as ash.

Iye pawed her way through the rooftop door, mewing her protest to the cold, and you laughed against his mouth.

Jiyong scooped her up with one arm, the other wrapping tight around you. And you stayed like that - the three of you tucked together beneath a sky dusted in white.

“Let’s get married,” he said suddenly.

Your heart tripped over itself.

“What?” you breathed.

He only nodded in thought. “I'm thinking sometime in the summer.”

“Sure,” you said with a chuckle, half-humouring him.

“Or tomorrow.”

You laughed again, forehead pressed to his. “Let’s just talk about it tomorrow.”

And just like that, you woke up.

No snow.

No Jiyong.

No promise of tomorrow.

Just the echo of that laugh still ringing in your ears, and the cold, aching emptiness of a bed that wasn’t his.

You turned your face into the pillow, chest tight.

Your dreams were your only safe space now. Each night was spent replaying your memories over and over again, because in that way, he could be yours.

But now, awake again, you remembered:

He didn’t believe you.

He didn’t want to see you.

He didn’t even want to hear your voice.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

You didn’t leave your bed for days.

Iye jumped up on the mattress, landing beside you, tail low, eyes cautious.

She’d been your only companion in the week since everything collapsed. Her small body curling into your side during those endless, sleepless nights.

And now, even she wasn’t staying.

That morning, you’d seen the airport photos. Jiyong, masked and silent as he arrived back in Seoul. The headlines were quieter now - his team had done their job. The scandal had been reshaped. The narrative shifted.

And you? Erased.

Cut from your latest project. Uninvited from meetings. Ghosted by friends who were once his, and then became yours, and now had made it clear their friendship to you was only conditional.

As long as you were with Jiyong, they were happy to laugh with you, to eat with you, to speak to you. So when that was over, they'd cut the cord.

Everyone except one.

Daesung.

The only one who still responded. Who hadn’t unfollowed. Who sent you a quiet “are you ok?” when your world went up in flames.

So now, lost in the silence of your once-abandoned home, you texted him.

[you] can you come by and pick up Iye?

[you] i know he'll want her back.

He responded almost immediately.

[daesung] Of course. I'm close by. Give me 15 x

You didn’t move until you heard the knock at the door.

Daesung stood there in a sweater and jeans, his expression unreadable. You couldn’t tell if he pitied you or just didn’t know what to say.

Maybe both.

But the second he saw your face, something in his softened. He hugged you without a word.

“Hey,” he murmured gently into your hair, running a hand over your back. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

You hadn’t. You smiled weakly as you withdrew to look at him. “You’re the first person to say anything to me in days.”

He nodded gently and stepped in, eyes flicking over your unpacked bag, your untouched kitchen, the way Iye sat silently near your feet.

When he crouched down to coax her into the carrier, she didn’t resist. That somehow hurt more than you expected.

You leaned against the wall and asked, “Is he okay?”

Daesung hesitated. “He’s… working. Keeping his head down.”

“Still thinks I leaked it?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, standing up. “He won’t talk about it.”

You nodded, throat burning.

“Do you believe me?” you asked quietly.

He looked at you, long and deep, and finally said, “I believe you loved him.”

You blinked against the tears that immediately welled.

“And I know… he did too. Still does. But he’s just scared. He’s not thinking straight right now. None of us are.”

The lump in your throat was too big to speak past. You just nodded again.

Daesung stepped closer, hesitant but sincere. He put a hand on your shoulder, warm and steady. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For all of it.”

“I've lost everything,” you murmured and he sighed deeply.

“Well you haven’t lost me.”

He drew you against him again, more firmly than before, and you soaked in the comfort this time, wondering how long it would be before someone embraced you again.

And then he left.

The click of the door shutting behind him was deafening.

The moment Iye was gone, the house felt colder.

Bigger.

Empty in a way you weren’t prepared for.

You walked to the middle of the living room and dropped to your knees. Your chest cracked open.

The sob hit before you could swallow it. Then another. And another.

You wept into the silence, your fingers digging into the carpet, wishing it would swallow you whole.

Eventually, you pulled yourself up enough to crawl to the couch, your phone trembling in your hand.

You didn’t care if he hated you. If he never forgave you. If he cursed your name until the end of time.

You just needed to hear his voice. One last time.

You opened his contact and pressed call.

Call Failed.

Your heart dropped.

You tried again.

This number is no longer in service.

Blocked.

Your breath hitched, trembling in disbelief. He had really done it. He meant it.

You weren’t just erased from the headlines.

You were erased from him.

And now, you were truly, completely alone.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

im not any good at writing angst so hope this was ok!

love mash xxx

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @breakmeoff , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby , @ricecake9999 , @fleabagspurplewife , @sylviavf , @ldydeath , @wonyluvi , @deliciousmagazinequeen , @heartubeatusalon

[choitttop]

BigBang coffee prince parody bang☆s!

[pissyolo]

'그 시절의 우리' 

Mnet | M Countdown 250410 방송

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

Long Distance

Character: Choi Seung-Hyun X fem!reader

summary: You facetime your long-distance Boyfriend!

Warnings: none

The screen lights up with a soft chime. Your heart jumps.

You tap “accept,” and there he is—Choi Seung-Hyun, framed in golden lamplight, his dark hoodie pulled halfway over his head, leaning into the camera like he’s trying to reach through it.

“Hi,” he says, voice low, warm, and achingly familiar. “God, I missed your face.”

You tuck your knees under your chin, already smiling. “It’s only been a day.”

He grins. “Exactly. A day too long.”

You’ve never met him in person—not yet. Your whole relationshiworld of screens and schedules, in sleepy late-night texts and pixelated laughter. Some people would call it strange. Unreal. But not to you. Not when he looks at you like this, even through a camera lens.

“Did you eat?” you ask.

“Not yet,” he murmurs, holding his phone so close that you can see the tired lines under his eyes. “Was waiting to call you first. You?”

“I had ramen. Again.”

“That’s it?” He frowns, dramatic. “I’m going to start mailing you proper food. Handmade banchan. A rice cooker.”

You laugh. “I already have a rice cooker.”

“Not my rice cooker,” he says, smug, but you can hear the affection in it.

You both fall into a quiet rhythm after that. No pressure to talk every second. Just… existing together. Sometimes he hums a song while sketching in his notebook. Sometimes you ramble about your day, and he listens like every word is treasure.

You watch the way his eyes soften when you smile. The way he pauses, blinking slowly, like he’s soaking you in.

Then he whispers it, like a secret. “I wish I could touch you.”

Your breath catches.

“I know,” you whisper back. “I wish that too.”

He presses two fingers to the camera lens like a kiss. “Someday soon.”

You match the gesture, your fingertips meeting the glass where his are.

And it’s not the same as holding him, but it’s something. In this tiny glowing rectangle, your hearts still find each other.

[wardo]

G-DRAGON, DAESUNG and TAEYANG performing HOME SWEET HOME

[junnipop]

fk u _maay28_

[kyra3128]

To this day TO THIS DAY i am mad about 2020 coachella. Bc WDYM THÉ BIG BANG performing OT4 at COACHELLA becoming the first K-pop act to do so. And it was cancelled for covid and then they never performed togeather.

I mourn what could’ve been. TOP was so excited aswell😪

[jiyongssi]

[momomikan]

ZIP DAESUNG EP.50 | Soheepoba VS Dakovich | Don't you dare thinking about beating me! 🤭

Guest: Ahn Sohee

[heartubeatusalon]

This will never be not funny

Daesung frightened by a teddy bear

[ldydeath]

I'll Be Your Umbrella | Kang Dae-sung

BIGBANG APRIL CHALLENGE - APRIL 21ST

Summary: You get caught in the rain on your way home, so your roommate decides to do something nice for you. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: fluff, making out, spice but no actual smut. Author's Note: Here's Day 21's challenge fic! I wasn't originally going to write for this prompt but the inspo struct and here we are. I hope you enjoy.

Work had gone on for much longer than you’d expected. You’d only planned to go into the office for a couple hours that morning and spend the rest of the day shopping with your friends, but when the rain had started to pour you’d decided to stay in the office the entire day, not wanting to go back out in the rain. You’d of course walked to the office that day, your apartment not being far but you hadn’t been prepared for the rain. With a sigh, you clicked your laptop shut and put it into your bag. You could finish the work at home, you needed to get out of here while the rain had subsided for a minute. 

The air was chilly as you walked down the street, and just as your luck had it - the rain picked up two blocks from your apartment. You groaned, picking up your steps and practically running the two blocks home. You swung the apartment door open and placed your bag inside as you slid out of your shoes. The smell of your favorite dinner filled the apartment and you raised a brow as you came face to face with your roommate. 

“Hi.” Daesung waved in greeting as he made his way towards the kitchen, you followed behind him.

“What’s all this?” Your hands ran up and down your arms for warmth as you stood in the kitchen.

“Figured you’d be hungry and it’s cold out so I thought I’d make noodles.” He turned to you, a lopsided grin on his face. Your stomach flipped in your chest at how adorable he was.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” You smiled at him as you grabbed a bowl, you stomach growling in response. 

The two of you made your way to the living room, sitting closely on the couch as you slurped your noodles in silence. You shivered as you sat your bowl down, the warmth from the food only lasting seconds. Damn rain was going to end up getting you sick. You excused yourself, heading to your room to change into PJs, and grabbing the blanket off your bed before you made your way back to the living room. 

Daesung had moved back to the kitchen, cleaning up dinner. He’d lit a candle in the living room and if you didn’t know any better you’d think you were on a date with your roommate. You knew that couldn’t be further from the truth, you were just friends. Daesung wasn’t into you and you were fine hiding your feelings from him for as long as you could. You just had a silly crush on him. As you moved to sit down you spotted his discarded hoodie and threw the blanket down, sliding the hoodie over your head. 

“Want to watch a movie?” You yelled as you made yourself comfortable on the couch, the blanket wrapping around you tightly. 

“Yeah, whatever you want.” Daesung called back from the kitchen. 

You didn’t know how much longer he’d be so you took it upon yourself to find the perfect movie. A romcom, something nice for you and something your roommate would probably hate. He had said whatever you wanted though. You pulled the movie up and hit pause as you waited for him to finish in the kitchen. A few minutes later he returned, two glasses of wine in his hand. You raised a brow as he sat them down and patted the spot next to you on the couch. 

“I don’t get any blanket?” He teased as he sat down. 

You opened the blanket up, revealing your clothing choice underneath and Daesung’s heart stopped. He liked the way you looked in his clothes. The hoodie was almost comically too big on you but to him you looked gorgeous. He blinked and scooted closer to you, pulling the blanket up over him, hoping you hadn’t caught him staring. You scooted in closer to him, wanting his body heat to keep you warm as you started up the movie. 

Daesung wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to his side as he moved to lean back on the couch. Your heart thumped so loudly in your chest at how close you were, you wondered if he could hear it. You took a couple deep breaths, trying to calm your nerves as you wiggled closer to him, trying to get comfortable. 

“Thank you for dinner. You really didn’t have to do that.”  Daesung shrugged, a small smile falling on his lips.

“Felt like you deserved a home cooked meal, you’ve been working so hard lately.” 

The same could be said about your roommate, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d been home for a week straight. It was nice having him around more, but him being here stirred up feelings you’d thought were gone until he’d grinned at you when you’d walked in the door. It just felt so natural, coming home soaked to the bone from a long day at the office, dinner waiting for you in the kitchen, you could get lost in nights like this. Nights with him. But it was all pretend, he was your roommate and your friend, nothing more. 

“So have you. Now I have to do something nice for you.” 

“This is more than enough.” His words made your heart race. 

You shivered and snuggled in closer to him, his arm wrapping tightly around you as he pulled you both so that you were laying down. Your body half resting on him, half resting on the couch as you turned your attention to the movie. His arm traced lazy circles on your arm, his eyes on you as you watched the movie.

“I like you in my clothes.” You stiffened and he stilled underneath you, eyes widening. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. 

“I like me in them too.” You both relaxed as you spoke. 

Daesung brought his free hand up to cup your face as he lowered his head towards yours. His eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes, asking for silent permission. You nodded your head and his lips came crashing down on yours. Your mouth moved with his, months of pent up feelings pouring out into the kiss. 

You moved ever so slightly to straddle his lap as Daesung’s tongue darted out, licking your lip, begging for entrance. Your lips parted and his tongue met yours in a battle of dominance as his hands moved to rest on your hips, holding you steady. His fingers toyed with the edge of your hoodie before he slid his hand up fully, resting his hand on your back. Your hips rocked against him and he moaned into your mouth. You could feel him getting hard beneath you. 

His hand moved back to the end of the hoodie, tugging it up. You broke the kiss to get it off the rest of the way before your lips were back on his. Your hips rocked into his again and his hips met yours, his hands moved down to your ass and gave it a gentle squeeze as you moved against him, enjoying the friction despite the fabric between you. 

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom.” Daesung whispered against your lips and you nodded your head.

Daesung moved to sit up, his hand staying on your ass as your arms wound around his neck. He shifted his weight, his lips never leaving yours as he stood up, your legs wrapping around him. He carried you to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. The movie you’d started completely forgotten in the other room. You could get used to more cozy nights at home like this.

tag list: @wcnderlnds @infinetlyforgotten @loveesiren @gdinthehouseee @tulentiy @petersasteria @alosss-blog @sooyasya @dprvivi @mirahyun @breakmeoff @1950schick @sherrayyyyy @flymetothexmoon

Writing challenge taglist: @bluesunss @berfgrimm @emmiesoverthemoon @sevendaysummer @currentloser @makeitworse @aizshallnotbefound @sherxoo @keiraryan @steponupbabe

[emmiesoverthemoon]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ he’s so boyfriend: three

Pairings: choi seunghyun x reader / kwon jiyong x reader / kang daesung x reader

Word Count: 6,723

Summary: just cute little scenarios between u and each guy AGAIN!!! enjoy :D

part one part two

pov: realising he’s in love with you

seunghyun: to be loved is to be seen

For Seunghyun, it was never about grand gestures. There were no dramatic proclamations, no over-the-top love confessions. It was always in the smallest, quietest moments—the ones that often went unnoticed, but meant everything to him.

Like the way you absentmindedly fixed his collar before he headed out for a big event, your fingers brushing against his neck with a softness he could not quite put into words. Or the way you always brought him coffee, just the way he liked it—perfectly sweet, with just the right amount of cream, no questions asked. You never forgot. And then there was the way you saw him. Really saw him. The way your eyes understood the exhaustion beneath his smile, the way you could tell when he was stressed, even when he tried to hide it. You were the only one who knew the real him.

It was in these moments, these tiny acts of love, that he started to feel it—creeping into his chest, warm and undeniable. One day, it hit him completely, unexpectedly, while he sat across the room, watching you. You were curled up on the couch, lost in a book, and for some reason, in that quiet stillness, he realized the depth of what he felt for you. The kind of realization that did not come with a sudden rush of adrenaline or a dramatic moment. It just… was.

He did not say anything right away, though. He did not want to break the moment, did not want to disrupt the peace of it all. Instead, he tucked the feeling away inside him, pressing it deep into his heart, knowing it was something he did not have to say out loud just yet. He let himself smile, just a little, the corners of his mouth curling softly.

Later that night, when the world had settled into the quiet hum of late hours, and the only sound was your steady breathing beside him, he turned to you, his fingers gently brushing against your arm as you snuggled into his side. He knew he had to say it now. The words had been sitting on his tongue all day, waiting for the right moment.

“I really love you,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost as if he were telling you a secret only meant for the two of you. His eyes met yours in the dim light, and there was no need for anything more. The simplicity of the words said everything. No fireworks. No grand speeches. Just a quiet, honest confession that felt as real as the air he breathed.

You smiled up at him, and in that moment, he knew that everything he had felt, everything he had tucked away, was exactly what he had been meant to feel.

jiyong: sudden realisation

For Jiyong, it happened when you were laughing about something stupid—maybe you tripped over your own feet, maybe you snorted while laughing too hard. Either way, he was watching you in that moment, eyes softening, his whole world slowing down as he observed you with a quiet intensity.

And then it clicked: that he loved you, almost way too much. Almost. The realization was startlingly simple, but it hit him harder than anything ever had before. He had never known that something so subtle, so ordinary, could make his heart feel so full. It wasn’t a grand, dramatic moment—it wasn’t some fiery confession. No, it was the little things, the way you made the mundane beautiful, the way you could turn an embarrassing stumble or a burst of laughter into something enchanting.

He continued to watch you, mesmerized by your every movement, by the way you laughed so freely, the way you were completely unaware of the effect you had on him. His thoughts drifted, and for a moment, it was as though time had stopped. You had unknowingly captured every ounce of his attention, and in that stillness, he realized something he hadn’t let himself admit before: He loved you. The kind of love that wasn’t about grand gestures, but about the small, everyday moments that made him feel like he had found something irreplaceable.

Jiyong zoned out completely, a soft, fond smile pulling at his lips as he stared at you, lost in his own thoughts. His heart was racing a little faster now, but there was a sense of peace in that racing, as though he had found something, or someone, that made everything fall into place.

You looked up then, noticing the way he was staring at you with that stupidly fond expression, and a curious smile crossed your face. “What's wrong?” you asked, teasing him as you leaned back on the couch.

His thoughts scattered for a moment, and he blinked, suddenly brought back to the present. He cleared his throat, his lips twitching in an attempt to hide the overwhelming affection that had just overtaken him. He tried to play it cool, tried to shove that swelling feeling back down, but there was no hiding it. Not from you.

“Nothing,” he said with a smirk, though it was much softer than usual, and his gaze remained tender. He leaned in a little closer, eyes never leaving yours. “You're just really cute, you know that?”

The sincerity in his voice, paired with the playful glint in his eyes, made your heart skip a beat, and before you could respond, he pulled you into a gentle kiss, as if to say everything his words could not.

daesung: did i say that out loud?

For Daesung, it happened unexpectedly, right in the middle of a conversation. You were talking about something you were incredibly passionate about, your eyes lighting up with that familiar, infectious spark, and your hands moving animatedly with every word you said. He had always found that side of you endearing—the way you could get so caught up in something, making it seem like nothing else in the world mattered but what you were saying at that very moment. But that day, it felt different. As you spoke, something inside him shifted. He could hear your voice, but all he could focus on was you: the way your lips moved, the little glint of excitement in your eyes, the rhythm of your breath as you got deeper into the subject. It was like the world around him faded away, and it was just you and him in that moment.

His heart began to beat a little faster, not from anxiety, but from something else entirely. It was like the realization snuck up on him, completely blindsiding him in the midst of a perfectly normal conversation. Suddenly, he found himself captivated—not just by the words you were speaking, but by you. It was in how you were so unapologetically yourself, how you made even the most mundane topics sound thrilling. How you made him feel so completely at ease, so wrapped up in your energy.

Before he could even stop himself, the words were out, slipping past his lips before he could process them: "Wow, I love you." The realization hit him so suddenly that his entire body froze. His own words seemed to hang in the air, thick and undeniable. The seconds dragged on as he watched your face freeze in surprise, your eyes widening just slightly as you processed what he had said.

Immediately, panic set in. What had he just done? He hadn't planned on saying that—not in that way, at least. He didn't even mean to say it out loud. It wasn’t like him to get so carried away, especially with something so important. But there it was, hanging in the air like an undeniable truth.

You blinked at him, and he could feel his face turning an impossible shade of red, his entire body heating up with embarrassment. His mind scrambled for something, anything to cover up the mistake.

"Uh—wait. I mean—um. Did I say that out loud?" he stammered, his voice betraying him with the nervous laugh that followed. His thoughts were scattered in a hundred different directions, and all he wanted to do was rewind time and keep his mouth shut. But that wasn’t an option. He could only stand there, heart racing, waiting for you to react.

The silence between you stretched on, unbearably long. You hadn’t said anything. You just stared at him, completely still, and Daesung felt like he might crumble under the weight of that silence. He opened his mouth again to try and make it better, but no words came out. He was stuck in his own awkwardness, unsure how to fix the mess he had made.

Then, to his shock, you smiled softly, that familiar warmth in your eyes returning as you reached out to gently touch his arm. "You really love me, huh?" you asked, voice soft but teasing, and that was it. The tension that had coiled tightly in his chest loosened just a bit. He nodded quickly, still embarrassed, but a smile started to tug at his lips as well.

"I—yeah," he said, his voice a little quieter, but there was no mistaking the sincerity behind the words. "I really do." And for the first time that day, the weight of the situation didn’t feel so heavy. Instead, it felt like something real, something that was both unexpected and inevitable all at once.

"You never told me," you said softly, your thumb brushing against the back of his hand, sending a little jolt of warmth through him.

"I know," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck, still trying to play it cool but not quite succeeding. "Guess I was waiting for the right moment. But I guess I couldn’t keep it in any longer."

You laughed, a sweet, airy sound that made Daesung’s heart flutter. It was a laugh of acceptance, of understanding, and suddenly, the nervousness that had filled him earlier seemed so silly. Here he was, standing in front of you, telling you how he felt, and you were smiling back at him as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Well," you said with a playful grin, "I'm glad you finally said it."

Daesung smiled back, his face still flushed, but this time, the warmth was different. It wasn’t from embarrassment anymore—it was from something else, something far more comforting. He had said it. He had said it out loud, and it felt like everything he had been feeling had just clicked into place.

"Me too," he murmured, then chuckled to himself. "Even if it did come out all wrong."

But when you leaned in and kissed him softly, he forgot all about that. All that mattered was you, and him, and the fact that he had just admitted, without a single doubt, that he loved you.

pov: late night conversations

daesung: stupid and cozy

It began like any other night—soft, quiet, with your voices low as the rest of the world slept. The kind of late-night conversation that drifts from one topic to another without effort, like waves gently washing over the shore. You were curled up beside him, your limbs tangled beneath the covers, speaking in hushed tones about everything and nothing. Maybe it started with a memory, or a silly thought said half-seriously. Maybe you mispronounced something, or he said a phrase so ridiculous it did not even make sense—but suddenly, it was over.

A beat of silence, and then laughter erupted between you, sharp and breathless and uncontrollable. You tried to muffle it with your hands, biting your lip, shoulders shaking as you gasped for air. He was no better, wheezing beside you, his whole face scrunched up in helpless joy, one hand clamped over his mouth while the other gripped your arm like he needed help holding himself together.

“Stop—stop, we’re gonna wake the neighbors,” you whispered, snorting mid-sentence, which only made it worse.

“I’m trying,” Daesung wheezed, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, “but your face is—oh my God—don’t look at me.”

You made the mistake of glancing at him, saw the way he was red in the face, trying so hard to hold it in, and that was it. Another wave crashed over you both, and you were once again dissolving into laughter, clinging to each other like the only way you’d survive was together.

Eventually, you tried to compose yourselves, your breathing unsteady, your cheeks sore from smiling. You turned onto your side, facing him in the dim light, catching your breath. It was almost peaceful again—until you made eye contact.

And then it started all over again.

This time, he buried his face in the pillow, cackling silently, and you threw the blanket over your head, trying in vain to muffle the noise, giggling until you were lightheaded and delirious with joy.

It was so stupid, really. So pointless. But it was one of those moments—warm and stupid and perfect. The kind of moment you would carry with you forever, tucked safely into your heart like a favorite secret.

jiyong: philosophically silly

It started the way it always did with Jiyong—head resting against the headboard, one arm lazily slung around you, his voice soft and smooth in the hush of the late hours. “Do you ever think about how time isn’t real?” he murmured, eyes half-lidded, like he was unraveling the secrets of the universe right there in bed. “Like... maybe we’re all just experiencing moments out of order. Maybe this already happened.”

You blinked at him, halfway between impressed and amused. “You’re so weird at night.”

He didn’t deny it. Just smiled a little, thoughtful. “No, but really. Think about it.”

And you did. You both did. For a while, the conversation drifted in and out of these abstract waters—free will, déjà vu, how dreams feel more real than reality sometimes. It was that kind of vulnerable, sleep-drunk honesty that only surfaced after midnight. The kind where everything felt profound and soft and safe.

Then—like flipping a switch—he turned his head toward you and deadpanned, “Also, do you think if I fought a bear, I’d win?”

You choked on a laugh. “What?”

“No, I’m serious,” he insisted, suddenly animated. “Like, not a huge one. A medium bear. I think I could take it if I had a stick.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, already laughing. “You wouldn’t last two minutes.”

“That’s rude,” he huffed, but he was grinning. “I’ve been working out. I could totally outsmart it.”

You teased him, he argued back, and somewhere between philosophy and hypothetical bear fights, you fell into a rhythm of ridiculousness that only made sense in the warmth of night.

And then—of course—you casually mentioned something from your day. A tiny bit of gossip from work. Something you hadn’t even thought about twice.

His eyes snapped to you, suddenly laser-focused. “Wait—what? Go back. Start from the beginning.”

“You care about this more than the bear thing,” you snorted.

“Obviously,” he said, sitting up straighter, completely invested. “You can’t just say something like that and not give details. Names. Tones of voice. I need context.”

You swore he was taking mental notes. Nodding. Gasps at the right places. Interrupting with “Noooo, they did not—” like he was the one living your life.

He was the perfect gossip partner. Dramatic, hilarious, and absolutely on your side.

By the time you were both tangled in each other again, the sky starting to pale with the first signs of dawn, your cheeks hurt from smiling. Your voices were hoarse from laughing and whispering and confessing everything from your deepest fears to your pettiest thoughts.

And Jiyong? He kissed your temple and muttered, “I love nights like this.”

So did you.

seunghyun: opening up

The room was still, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, casting golden shadows across the sheets. The kind of silence that wrapped around you like a blanket—gentle, comforting, safe. Seunghyun lay beside you, one arm tucked beneath his head, the other hand loosely linked with yours between you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, thoughtful strokes.

At first, it was nothing unusual—casual murmurs about the day, small observations about the way the moonlight filtered through the curtains. But slowly, something shifted in his voice. A softness. A weight. The pauses between his words stretched just a little longer, like he was deciding how much to reveal.

“I don’t like the quiet when I’m alone,” he said suddenly, not quite looking at you. “It gets too loud in my head.”

You turned toward him, your fingers tightening around his just slightly.

“And sometimes,” he continued, barely above a whisper, “I get scared I’m not doing enough. Or that I’ll wake up one day and… no one will really know who I am. Like they just see what they want.”

You didn’t interrupt. You just listened—fully, patiently, with the kind of presence that said I’m here, I see you.

He exhaled, eyes finally flicking toward yours. “But with you… I don’t feel like I have to be anything else. You’re the only person I feel like I can talk to like this.”

Your heart ached in the most tender way.

He wasn’t dramatic about it. He didn’t cry or fumble. He just laid it out with quiet honesty, the kind of vulnerability that only surfaced in the stillness of night—when the world was asleep and it felt like it belonged to just the two of you.

You reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said softly.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He leaned closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “Good,” he murmured, eyes slipping closed. “Because I think I’d fall apart without you.”

And there, in the hush between heartbeats and the warmth of shared breath, something unspoken settled between you—deeper than comfort, louder than words.

You held his hand until sleep pulled you both under.

pov: waking up together

jiyong: clingy and lazy

The morning light spilled gently through the curtains, casting everything in a soft haze of gold. You stirred beneath the covers, blinking sleep from your eyes, stretching just enough to reach for your phone—or at least try to.

But before your fingers even grazed the edge of the nightstand, a warm arm snaked tighter around your waist, tugging you back into the curve of his body.

“Five more minutes,” Jiyong mumbled against your skin, voice rough and low with sleep, lips brushing the back of your shoulder.

You let out a breathy laugh. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

“Then what’s ten more?” he argued, barely coherent, already burying his face against the crook of your neck. “Actually... make it twenty. No—no wait. Let’s just cancel today.”

He tangled his legs with yours, anchoring you firmly in place like a sleepy octopus. He was warm, all bare skin and bed-tousled hair, the kind of soft that only came out in the mornings when he had not yet put up his usual guard. There was a low, contented sigh from him as he pressed a lazy kiss to your shoulder.

You tried to move again—just a little—but his hold only tightened.

“Nope,” he mumbled. “Prisoner now. Sorry. You brought this on yourself, looking all soft and warm and perfect in my bed.”

You laughed again, quieter this time, and relaxed into his hold. His breathing slowed, but he did not fall fully back asleep. Instead, he hummed a little tune—something familiar but too sleep-drowsy to place—his fingers lazily tracing patterns on your hip beneath the sheets.

And in that moment—tangled in limbs and blankets, still wearing dreams on your skin—you let yourself forget the ticking clock, the responsibilities, the rush of the day waiting beyond the bedroom door.

Because here, in this quiet slice of morning, he was yours, and you were his, and that was more than enough.

seunghyun: the watcher

The sun had barely started its slow climb, spilling pale light across the room in quiet slants when Seunghyun blinked awake. It took him a second to orient himself, still wrapped in the warm haze of sleep—but then he saw you.

Peaceful. Soft. Curled into the blankets with your cheek squished slightly into the pillow, lips parted just so, breathing slow and even.

His heart did something weird. Not dramatic, not cinematic. Just this gentle clench that made him melt right into the mattress.

He did not move for a while—just laid there, propped on his side, chin resting against his hand as he drank in every little detail. Your tangled hair, the way your lashes brushed your cheeks, the faint creases on your forehead that always relaxed once you were truly resting. It made something inside him ache in the best way.

With a tenderness he almost never let anyone see, he reached forward and brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, careful not to fully touch you. He did it slowly, as if even the air might disturb you. You shifted slightly in your sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and he froze, then smiled—this small, stupid smile that he could not hold back.

He could have watched you for hours.

But just as he leaned a little closer, your eyes began to flutter open.

Panic. He snapped his own eyes shut so fast he nearly headbutted the pillow, instantly going limp, like he had been sleeping this whole time.

You blinked slowly, adjusting to the light, and turned toward him just as he peeked out one eye, caught your gaze, and grinned—far too innocent.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, voice low and rough from sleep, his tone playful, like he had not just been staring at you like a smitten idiot for fifteen minutes.

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious. “Were you watching me?”

He feigned offense. “Me? Noooo. I was definitely asleep. Dreaming. Deep REM cycle.”

You gave him a look.

He reached out, pulled you in closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Okay… maybe I peeked.”

And maybe he would again tomorrow. And the day after that. And if he could, he would every day for the rest of his life.

daesung: ultimate morning person, unless you say otherwise

The moment Daesung’s eyes cracked open, he was already on a mission. No groggy blinking, no slow stretch—just pure, mischievous energy in a barely awake body.

He turned to face you, his grin forming before his brain even fully caught up. You were still deep in sleep, bundled under the covers like a burrito, completely at peace. Naturally, he poked your cheek.

“Good morning!” he chirped far too brightly for the ungodly hour. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead!”

You groaned, swatting at his hand, and tried to burrow deeper into the blankets like you could disappear into them. He laughed, completely undeterred. That only made him worse.

He started tugging at the blankets with exaggerated drama, trying to peel you out like a stubborn snail from its shell. “Come on,” he sang, “the sun is shining, birds are probably singing—let’s greet the day!”

But the second you reached out, grabbed him by the arm, and yanked him back down into bed with you, everything changed.

He let out a soft “oof” as he landed beside you, your body warm and close, your sleepy face nuzzling into his chest without even opening your eyes.

And just like that, the chaos in him quieted. His arms instinctively wrapped around you, and he let out a contented sigh, forehead resting against your hair.

“Oh… okay,” he whispered, his grin turning softer. “Yeah, this is better.”

He didn’t try to drag you out of bed again. Not even a little.

pov: accidentally wearing matching outfits

jiyong: totally "accidental"

It all started as a typical morning. Jiyong had woken up, not thinking much about what he was throwing on—just a loose hoodie and some joggers. Nothing special. But when he saw you coming out of the bedroom in an outfit that he liked, and he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, he wanted to find something to match you.

As he looked at you, something in him clicked. He liked it. You and him—matching, without even meaning to. He wasn’t one to miss a chance for a little fun, so, with a smirk, he subtly changed his outfit, picking out the exact same articles of clothing just to make it perfect. He figured he’d act like it was a total accident, though.

You had barely stepped into the room when Jiyong looked up from his phone, his gaze dragging over you in slow motion. His smirk appeared almost instantly—lazy, amused, and laced with that familiar mischief that always meant he was up to something.

“Well, well,” he said, setting his phone aside as he stood. “Look at us.”

You followed his eyes, then looked down at yourself. The realization hit immediately: same color palette, similar silhouettes, matching energy. Neither of you had planned it, but somehow, you looked like you had coordinated a full campaign shoot for ‘effortlessly stylish couple of the year.’

Jiyong tilted his head, that smirk deepening. “We’re really that in sync, huh?”

You tried to protest, but he was already halfway across the room, smoothing the sleeve of your jacket and tugging your collar gently into place with all the care of a stylist about to send his muse onto the runway. “Wait, stand still,” he said, eyes narrowing in focus. “There. Now we really look intentional.”

He pulled out his phone before you could stop him, backing up to find the best lighting. “We’re taking pictures. This is a look. People are definitely gonna think we planned it.” He started snapping photos from different angles, occasionally pausing to fix your hair or adjust your stance, completely in his element.

You laughed, half-exasperated but fully endeared. He was so into it—so delighted by the whole situation—that you couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed.

By the time he finished editing the perfect shot and uploaded it, you were curled up beside him on the couch, peeking over his shoulder. He posted it with a cheeky caption:

fashion soulmates. try to keep up💅

He turned to you, grinning mischievously. “I’m gonna say it—this was totally meant to be. We’re basically the coolest couple around, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though the corners of your mouth betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous.”

He flashed you that playful smile. “I’m serious. People will think we planned it. And I definitely didn’t change to match you on purpose.”

You raised an eyebrow, knowing full well exactly what had just happened. “Uh-huh. Sure, Jiyong.”

He gave you an innocent shrug, but his mischievous grin never left. “Okay, maybe I did change. But don’t you love it? We look good together.”

You smiled at him, shaking your head, though a part of you was totally smitten by how much fun he was having. “Alright, alright. I’ll admit it—this was way too cute to be an accident.”

With a wink, he leaned in and kissed your cheek, his playful energy never fading. “Told you. Now we’re going to be the talk of the town.”

And honestly? You couldn’t wait to see what kind of trouble the two of you would get up to next.

seunghyun: "i dont like matching"? as if!

Seunghyun had been moving around the apartment, getting ready for the day, when you walked out of the bedroom. You’d picked out your outfit—casual, comfortable, but still effortlessly stylish. You were half-focused, adjusting your jacket when you caught sight of him.

He froze mid-step, his eyes widening as they flickered from your outfit to his. There was no mistaking it. You both had practically coordinated without even trying: same muted tones, similar style, right down to the shoes.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You just stood there, staring at each other. He blinked, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk.

"Wow," Seunghyun finally said, voice a little more serious than it should’ve been. “I guess we're really that in sync, huh?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You picked your clothes after me."

He tilted his head, a mock-suspicious glint in his eyes. "You think I planned this?"

You shrugged, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. He had no idea what was going on.

Then he sighed dramatically, as if this whole situation was the biggest inconvenience. “Okay, fine.” He straightened his shirt, but the corner of his mouth lifted, clearly enjoying the coincidence more than he let on. “One of us has to change.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to be put out by his insistence. “What? You want me to change?”

He shot you a look. “Well, it’s not exactly my style to be that couple, you know?” But his tone wasn’t nearly as firm as he wanted it to sound. He was still staring at you, eyes flickering over your outfit once more.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. He was the one who was secretly enjoying this, wasn’t he?

Seunghyun, clearly feeling the weight of the situation, yanked his shirt off and grabbed another from his closet. But as he changed, he caught you looking at him with that amused smile of yours, and he couldn’t help but grin back. He paused, shirt halfway pulled over his head, as if contemplating something. Then, without missing a beat, he picked out a jacket that just so happened to be the exact same shade as yours.

“I can’t even,” you said, shaking your head in disbelief, but the soft smile tugging at your lips betrayed how much you were enjoying this.

He turned back to you, a playful glint in his eyes. “What? It’s practical.”

Before you could respond, he pulled the jacket on, looked at himself in the mirror, and adjusted the sleeves—making sure everything matched perfectly. He caught you staring and just shrugged. “Guess we’re meant to be, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t mind one bit. In fact, you liked the idea.

When you both finally headed out for the day, Seunghyun walked just a little closer than usual. His shoulder brushed against yours more than once as you made your way down the street, and when you’d turn to say something, he’d catch your eye and give you a teasing grin, his hand lingering just a fraction of an inch from yours.

You both acted like you didn’t care about the matching outfits—but the way he was so careful not to get too far ahead of you, the way his hand brushed against yours whenever you were close, told a different story. It was subtle, but you could feel the shift.

Maybe you were that couple after all.

And honestly, you didn’t mind in the slightest.

daesung: couple of the year

You stood in front of the mirror, your eyes widening as you looked at yourself and then back at Daesung. He stood beside you, both of you in practically the same exact outfit—simple, but somehow perfect. The same oversized sweater, the same color jeans, even the same shoes. It wasn’t intentional, but here you were, looking like a walking, talking couple’s Instagram post.

Daesung’s jaw dropped dramatically as he took you in. "Oh my god, we look AMAZING," he said, his voice high-pitched, making you laugh even before he could finish his sentence. He grabbed your shoulder, pulling you toward him and spinning you around as if you were both on stage. "We’re matching! We look so good. We should do this every day!"

Before you could protest, Daesung was already striking a ridiculous pose in front of you, hand on his hip and one foot kicked out, his free arm reaching for the sky like he was a fashion model. "Look at us," he continued, giggling. "Couple of the year, no competition!"

You couldn’t help but laugh along with him, the way he was making such a big deal out of something so silly. He was completely hyped, his infectious energy filling the room.

When you both stepped out into public, Daesung was practically glowing. He was all about it, constantly hyping you up. “Look at us,” he’d say to anyone who walked by, “we’re matching! Like, we’re so in sync, we should be on a reality show.”

He even dragged you into poses on street corners, trying to capture the “perfect couple” shot with his phone. “We’re so cute together," he teased, striking an over-the-top pose while you just shook your head, still giggling.

"Daesung, stop," you said, laughing but feeling completely warmed by his enthusiasm. He gave you a dramatic, offended look.

“Nope, not stopping,” he grinned. “You look too good not to take pictures. Look at us—we’re iconic!”

There was no way you could argue with him. Not with the way he was looking at you, all excited and proud, like he had just won some award for being the cutest couple on earth.

At that moment, you couldn’t help but feel like he was right. You did look amazing together. And even though you hadn’t planned it, maybe, just maybe, matching outfits weren’t such a bad idea after all.

pov: you wear his shirt and tiny shorts as pajamas

jiyong: #needthat

You stir awake, stretching beneath the soft fabric of his oversized shirt. The material is a bit too big, draping off your shoulders, and the tiny pair of shorts you decided to slip into make you feel oddly exposed, but also comfortably safe. You hadn’t expected him to be awake already, but the moment your eyes flutter open, you see him standing in the doorway, leaning lazily against the frame.

His eyes immediately darken with mischief, a playful glint catching in his gaze. "Well, well, good morning to you too." His voice is low, smooth, and thick with intent, making your heart skip in your chest. His smirk widens as he takes you in—his shirt, his favorite one, hanging loosely around you.

You laugh nervously, pulling the fabric down a little, suddenly feeling the weight of his gaze a little too strongly. But he doesn't look away; instead, he steps closer, his eyes raking over your form like he’s savoring the sight.

"You really like wearing my stuff, huh?" he asks, the teasing note in his voice only making the atmosphere heavier, more charged. "Can’t get enough of me?"

You try to respond, but the words get caught in your throat as he closes the distance between you two. His hands are on the edge of the bed now, and he leans down slightly, his face inches from yours, that mischievous smile never leaving his lips. "How about you stay here a little longer? Just for me?" he suggests, his voice rough but full of affection, teasing you with an underlying heat that makes your pulse race.

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he’s climbing onto the bed beside you, moving so fluidly it feels like he’s done this a thousand times. He doesn’t let you move, gently but firmly pulling you closer until you’re pressed against his chest.

His breath is warm against your ear as he whispers, "I’m not letting you go. Not today. Not when you look like that."

And just like that, you realize—you’re not going anywhere, and neither is he.

seunghyun: restrained and tempted

You woke up to the soft morning light spilling into the room, the quiet hum of the world outside just barely reaching your ears. The shirt you were wearing was his, oversized and too big for you, with the sleeves hanging off your shoulders. The tiny pair of shorts you had paired with it seem to emphasize how much you were wrapped up in his clothes—comfortable but undeniably intimate. You stood and stretched lazily, making the shirt ride up to reveal the shorts which tucked into the very top of your thighs. You were blissfully unaware that he had been watching you the entire time.

A few moments passed before you hear the door creak. You turn your head slowly, and there he is, leaning against the frame, eyes locked on you. The look he gave you sent a rush of heat to your cheeks. His gaze was intense, scanning you from head to toe, noticeably stopping on your plush thighs leading his eye to imagine your naked torso under his shirt. He said nothing for a long moment, simply staring as if trying to process the sight in front of him.

His breath caught, and finally, he let out a deep sigh, like he was trying to force himself to stay grounded. “You really expect me to focus on anything else today?” His morning voice was rough, laced with disbelief. He looked almost... tortured by the sight of you.

You couldn't help but smirk, feeling the heat between you rise. You made a show of stretching again, casually flipping the hair from your face, loving how his eyes followed your every movement. His eyes darkened even more as his lips parted, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, maybe I’m just… too tempting for you,” you replied, voice soft, but heavy with challenge.

He stepped closer to the bed, and for a split second, you think he might have actually said something else, but instead, his jaw clenched and he exhaled sharply. "I swear... you’re killing me, you know that?"

You laughed, a little smug, but he cut off any further comment by gently pushing you down against the mattress, not saying a word more. He just stared down at you, almost too calm now, as if gathering himself. "You're not going anywhere today," he murmered firmly. "Not when you look like this."

You made no attempt to resist him.

daesung: juvenile embarrassment

You were lying in bed, stretched out in his oversized shirt and a tiny pair of shorts that you typically ended up wearing as pajamas. You are trying to act casual, stretching and yawning, but then you felt it—the weight of his gaze on you. You glanced over and saw him standing in the doorway, his eyes going wide as he took in the sight of you.

“Oh my god, you looks so cute!” He blurted out, his voice way too loud for this early in the morning. He was grinning like a schoolboy who had just gotten away with something, his eyes flicking from your legs to the shirt and back up to your face. His hands immediately going to his face like he was trying to compose himself. “No, no, this is not okay. I need you like this every day. You cannot keep doing this to me.”

Before you could even say anything, he made it over to you in two long strides, and lifted you off the bed and spun you around like a child. His hands gripped under your thighs tightly, but not in the way that was gentle. It was almost possessive—like he couldn't stand the thought of you not being this close. His breath was ragged against your neck, and you could feel his heartbeat in sync with yours.

“Okay, okay,” he rasped, but you can hear the raw desperation in his voice. “I need you to wear my shirt more often. Seriously. You look... like the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t even breathe properly.” He was laughing a little, but it was almost as if the humor is a cover for just how turned on he is. That was absolutely what it was.

You tried to pull away, but he was already dragging you back to the bed, not even giving you a chance to protest. “Nope,” he declared, grinning mischievously. “You’re not leaving this bed today. Nope, I’m keeping you right here. And don’t think you’re getting away with anything else either. We’re staying like this, just me and you, all day. Got it?” His eyes glinted with a cocky kind of possessiveness.

And as he laid you back into the bed, his hands gently ran over your shirt, you could feel just how badly he wanted you—but he was going to make sure he kept you close in every possible way.

hehehe these are sooo fun! if you have any scenario you’d like to see in a part 4, do let me know!

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[mashtatosworld]

lover boys (4)

summary: 'kissing someone else is not cheating' prank

[GD, TOP, D-LITE]

Kwon Jiyong (GD)

It started as a stupid joke.

You were at a rooftop party, warm summer air mixing with the scent of cigarettes and expensive perfume, lounging with your friends while Jiyong had wandered off to grab more drinks.

And then, someone brought up a ridiculous argument.

“You know what would be hilarious?” your best friend smirked, already three cocktails deep. “If you said, ‘Kissing someone else isn’t cheating’ in front of Jiyong. I bet he’d have a whole crisis.”

The group laughed - because, yeah, Jiyong had mellowed out over the years, but there was still that possessive streak lurking beneath the surface.

“No way,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Come on! He’ll probably write a whole song about it.”

“It’ll be fun,” another friend urged, grinning. “Let’s just see what he does.”

You rolled your eyes, exhaling dramatically. “Fine. Whatever.”

Just then, Jiyong reappeared, two drinks in hand, looking effortlessly handsome in a silk blouse and hat. He slipped into the space beside you with a sweet smile.

This was your moment.

“Well,” you started casually, trying to avoid your friends eager eyes, “I guess it wouldn’t be… cheating if it’s just a kiss.”

His head snapped up.

His eyes locked onto yours.

“…Oh really,” he said after a beat, jaw tensing. "I see."

And then -

That was it.

No protest. No argument. No reaction at all.

He just took a sip from his straw, looking away, completely unfazed.

You blinked. Wait. What?

You had expected an immediate rebuttal, a scoff, an exasperated sigh - something.

But no. He was just calmly accepting this absolute nonsense like it was nothing.

Now you were the one panicking.

You turned to your friends, who were equally thrown off. They shrugged helplessly but kept up with the changing conversation whilst you spiralled.

Jiyong stayed for another moment, then quietly excused himself, slipping off into the crowd.

You watched him disappear, a strange feeling settling in your chest.

"Don't worry," your friend nudged you. "He's probably just brushing it off. He can be defensive."

So you let it go.

For a little while.

Until -

“Oh, shit.”

The girls grew silent and you turned your head, following their intrigued gaze.

Because the man returning to you was not your husband.

Gone was the headscarf and hat, leaving his hair tousled to perfection. His buttoned-up shirt was now loosened at the top, collarbone and tattoos peeking through.

And his usual fruity cocktail - replaced by a glass of straight rum.

The moment you laid eyes on him, your stomach flipped.

He was walking - slower, smoother, more confident than ever, no, not confident. Cocky.

The way he carried himself, the way his dark eyes swept the room like he owned it - this was not the man who shied away from attention.

This was the man who had pursued you years ago.

Dangerous. Sexy. Intense.

Your breath hitched.

He strolled right up to where you stood - a neglected cigarette left to burn between your fingertips, and he tilted his head slightly, gaze hooded, lips curving into the faintest smirk.

“So,” he murmured, swiping the cigarette from your loose grasp. “You come here often?”

You blinked up at him, completely thrown off. “Um… yeah. We come here all the time?"

He hummed, slipping the cigarette between his lips, taking a slow drag before blowing the smoke away.

“Oh yeah?” His eyes dragged over you with a look that sent a thrill straight through you.

He took a sip of his drink, licking his lips, before asking,

“You and your boyfriend?”

What.

You squinted at him. “No… my husband?”

His smirk deepened.

“Where is he?”

You stared.

And then -

It clicked.

He wasn’t Jiyong right now.

He was GDragon.

Oh my god.

The hot, intense, arrogant rapper you had fallen for years ago? The one who had chased you down with that insane, magnetic energy?

Yeah.

He was back.

And your friends?

They were losing their minds.

You heard one of them whispered to another, “Holy shit, he’s doing a bit.”

Meanwhile, you were trying to remember how to breathe.

Jiyong - no, GDragon - was watching you, waiting.

So you played along.

“…He’s around,” you said slowly, lips curling into a smile. “Why? You interested?”

He grinned, leaning closer.

“I don’t do relationships,” he murmured, reaching forward to pass you back the cigarette. His fingers lingered.

“But you… You're a temptation.”

Oh.

Oh, this was bad.

Because you were very, very into this.

Your pulse was racing, heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it.

The rest of the night was a game.

He stayed in character.

You tried to match him.

It was exciting - the flirting, the teasing, the tension.

It felt like you had been thrown back in time, back to the nights where he was chasing you, back to when he was untouchable and untamed and entirely too much.

The night seemed to stretch on forever, when usually you two would leave and go home to your cats - cozying up on the couch. But he had dragged you along when everyone piled into the car, heading to a downtown club.

A club.

It had been years since you two spent all night touching and dancing, sneaking off to the side to kiss against a wall like no one was watching.

You tried to keep up.

You really did.

But when you finally got home?

The moment you stepped inside, you collapsed onto the couch, kicking off your heels with a groan.

Your husband chuckled, rolling his shoulders.

You turned your head, half-lidded, exhausted, but still burning.

“…I think we’re getting old.”

His grin widened.

And then -

He scooped you up effortlessly.

“I’ve got about twenty minutes of GDragon left in me before I need my pyjamas and cuddles.” His voice was low and teasing. “That long enough?”

You swallowed.

“…Hell yeah.”

He carried you into the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed, crawling over you but just before he kissed you, you hesitated.

“Wait,” you murmured, arms around his neck. “You know I don’t actually believe that, right?”

His eyes softened.

Jiyong kissed your forehead, slow and tender.

“Jagi,” he whispered. “We’ve been together nearly ten years.”

He looked down at you, eyes full of knowing.

“I know.”

Because of course, he knew.

You two were connected.

Always.

He lips then found yours - hard and possessive.

And just like that, you were done for.

Because even after all these years, the darker side of your husband was still there.

And damn it, you loved it.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Seunghyun (TOP)

You were at some fancy dinner party, champagne glasses clinking, warm conversations buzzing around you.

And the topic of the table?

What counts as cheating?

Your friends were going back and forth, debating, until someone turned to you.

“What do you thinkm, y/n? If it’s just a kiss, is it really cheating?”

You barely had time to react before your best friend nudged you, grinning.

“C’mon, say it. I dare you.”

You laughed.

You knew this was a trap.

Seunghyun was sitting right beside you, leisurely sipping his wine, not caring to indulge in the conversation though still entertained. But his tensed frame told you that he was listening intently.

You thought about it.

Then - for fun, just to tease him - you shrugged.

“I mean…” You exhaled dramatically. “I guess it wouldn’t really be cheating - ”

Pfft.

Seunghyun made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh, eyes flicking to you in amused disbelief.

“You can try,” he said smoothly, setting his wine glass down.

His voice was low, velvety, and incredibly confident.

Then he added -

“…Not like I’d ever let someone get the chance.”

You raised your brow.

The conversation continued to flow around you but something about the way he said it sent a little shiver down your spine.

Because Seunghyun was usually the calm, reserved type. He wasn’t the jealous, reactive boyfriend.

At least… not outwardly.

But tonight?

Well.

The moment he made that little comment, his entire energy shifted.

Suddenly, Seunghyun was on guard.

You didn’t even notice it at first.

But the next time someone came up to you to start a conversation, Seunghyun was just… there.

Like a shadow.

Standing so close, his presence looming, quiet but firm.

And when the guy in front of you hesitated - eyes flicking between you and your tall boyfriend - you realised.

Seunghyun was blocking you.

A human wall.

No one was getting through.

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh.

The longer the night went on, the worse it got.

He wasn’t letting anyone near you.

You moved? He moved.

You reached for a drink? He grabbed it for you.

Someone tried to say hello? Seunghyun’s arm was already around your waist.

Usually, he wasn’t one for public affection.

But tonight?

Oh, he was all over you.

A hand on your lower back.

Fingers trailing along your arm.

His lips brushing your neck as he leaned in to murmur something about how “this party is getting boring, isn’t it, Princess?”

He wasn’t worried.

At all.

Because he was your big, scary, intimidating boyfriend.

And he could just… whisk you away whenever he wanted.

Which, apparently - he would.

Because at one point, mid-conversation, you suddenly felt your feet leave the ground.

What the - ?!

You barely had time to process before Seunghyun lifted you under the arms like you were a stray kitten and just moved you.

Like you weighed nothing.

“Seunghyun!” you gasped, laughing as he carried you a few steps away before placing you down like it was nothing.

He smirked, completely unbothered.

“What?” he asked, voice deep and amused.

You gawked at him, still half-laughing. “You just - moved me! Like a child!”

His brow raised slightly, eyes twinkling.

“Well,” he shrugged, tilting his head, voice dropping -

“I wasn’t about to let him finish that conversation.”

Your stomach flipped.

And that was when you realised -

He wasn’t playing around.

Possessive T.O.P had fully taken over.

Your fingers curled slightly against his chest, voice softer now.

“You know I wouldn’t actually ever do that, right?”

His eyes flicked over your face - sharp, unreadable.

Then he leaned down, lips brushing just past your ear.

“Good,” he murmured. “Shall I remind you why?"

You sucked in a breath.

Oh.

Oh, you really, really liked that.

And from the way his smirk deepened -

He knew.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

Daesung (D-Lite)

The car ride home was loud - music playing, voices overlapping, the leftover energy of the night buzzing between all of you.

It had been a great night out, full of laughter, drinks, and just enough teasing touches between you and Daesung to make your heart race.

And then, someone in the front seat casually threw out the question:

“So, do you guys think kissing someone else counts as cheating?”

The car exploded with reactions -

“OF COURSE.”

“Duh???”

“Well, actually, it depends - ”

Daesung chuckled along with everyone, but his gaze fell to you.

Waiting.

Watching.

And when you decided not to chip into the conversation his expression dropped.

Still new in your relationship, he was tuned in to every little thing about you - every glance, every shift of your expression, every small hesitation.

And you?

You had hesitated for a second too long.

You could feel Daesung’s gaze burning into the side of your face.

But before you could answer, the conversation moved on.

The car filled with more chatter and laughter, but Daesung?

Daesung fell silent, eyes focused on the moving city beyond the tinted window.

When the car pulled up to your apartment, your roommates got out, saying their goodbyes.

You turned to Daesung.

“I'm still staying with you tonight, right?”

He nodded.

But something was off.

The usual warmth in his face had faded.

Instead, he was staring at his phone, brows furrowed, fingers moving quickly over the screen.

You tilted your head.

“…You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, voice too casual. “Just… tired.”

"Well, you did out do everyone at karaoke." You smile, patting his thigh and letting it rest there. Your boyfriend had practically given your roommates a full concert and they loved it.

You were so happy your boyfriend and friends seemed to get along. And they loved even more when his private driver showed up to collect everyone, saving the group a trip home in the rain.

Once at his place, the two of you slowly wound down - changing into comfortable clothes, playing soft music.

But Daesung?

Still quiet.

He was fidgety, fixated on his phone, tugging his hair and covering his lower face as he intently stared at the screen in his hand.

The tension was killing you.

So you joined him on the sofa and bumped your knee against his.

“Wanna make cookies?”

His head slowly lifted.

“…Cookies?”

You grinned. “Yeah. You love cookies. And you always boast you make the best."

For the first time since the car ride, he smiled.

“Okay.”

Thirty minutes later and Daesung stood at the counter, hands completely covered in dough.

“…This can’t be right,” he muttered, frowning at the sticky mess between his fingers.

You laughed, grabbing his phone. “Let me check the recipe - ”

You weren’t prepared for what you saw.

Because his recent search history?

help I think my girlfriend wants to break up with me how to stop your soulmate from breaking up with you my heart hurts - is this normal or am I dying??? can you have a heart attack at 27?

You blinked.

Then you bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

Daesung stiffened.

“…What?”

You turned to him, holding up the phone.

“Baby…” you cooed, fighting back a grin. “Is this why you’ve been so quiet?”

His eyes darted to the phone.

Then his hands.

Then the phone.

Then back at you.

He was trapped.

Hands covered in wet dough, unable to grab the phone or defend himself.

“…Maybe,” he mumbled, looking down at the failed mixture.

You burst out laughing.

“Oh, my sweet, love.” You wrapped your arms around him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “I would never do that to you.”

His shoulders relaxed, exhaling loudly.

“…Really?”

“Of course.” You kissed him again, smiling. “You’re my favourite person.”

His face broke into a bright, relieved grin. You leaned closer once more and - instinctively - he raised his hand to cup your cheek.

Except.

His hands were still covered in wet dough.

You yelped, jerking back.

“DAE - !”

His eyes widened in horror.

“Oh -OH NO - ”

But it was too late.

His doughy, flour-covered fingers had left a big, smudged handprint on your cheek.

You stared at him.

He stared at you.

And then -

You both cracked up laughing.

Falling into each other, breathless and giggling, the earlier tension completely gone.

He then sat you on the counter, grabbing a soft towel. And as he wiped your face clean - pressing a hundred tiny kisses all over to make up for it - you realised something.

Daesung might be sensitive, a total over thinker, and a little dramatic…

But he was also the sweetest, most loveable person ever.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

damn lover boys was highly requested - sorry i've been slow with it! hope you enjoy loves <3

taglist: @petersasteria, @mirahyun , @allthoughtsmindfull , @gdinthehouseee , @infinetlyforgotten , @redhoodedtoad , @kathaelipwse , @lxvemaze , @loveesiren , @sherrayyyyy , @getyoassoutthetrunk , @shieraseastarrs , @ctrldivinev , @xxxicddbr88 , @onyxmango , @tryingtolivelifeblog , @tulentiy , @bettelaboure , @maskedcrawford , @lariem-blog2 , @emmiesoverthemoon , @rafesbunniebby

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

Baby boy

Character: Choi Seunghyun x female!reader, their 2 year old, Min-joon

Summary: He comes home with a bunch of toys for Min-Joon and of course a little gift for his Mama (you) too

Warnings: none

You heard the front door before you saw him—his keys jingling, the soft click of it swinging open, and then “Jooonie~ Appa’s home!” in that singsong voice he only used when he was talking to your son.

Min-Joon was already scrambling off the couch, socks slipping on the hardwood as he bolted for the door like a rocket. You smiled, setting aside the folded laundry to peek around the corner.

And there he was—Choi Seung-Hyun, arms full of chaos.

He was barely inside the entryway, holding at least three big shopping bags in one hand and a large dinosaur plush tucked under the other arm. Your toddler squealed.

“Appa! What’s that??"

“This?” he said, crouching to Min-Joon’s level, the plushie already being hugged fiercely, “This is Mr. Chomp. He eats bad dreams for breakfast.”

“And this!” He opened one bag with a flourish. “Coloring books, new crayons, bath toys, and... surprise surprise… a tiny piano. Because my boy is a musical genius like his Appa.”

You were leaning against the doorway now, arms crossed but grinning. “Are you trying to bribe him or spoil him into early chaos?”

He turned to you, smile softening. “Both.”

Min-Joon had already disappeared with the dino and the piano, making loud music(?) in the living room.

Seung-Hyun stood and walked toward you, pulling something small from his coat pocket.

“For Eomma,” he murmured.It was a little box—nothing fancy. Inside was a silver necklace with a charm shaped like a tiny star, engraved with the initials E + A + J. (Eomma, Appa, Joonie)

Your breath caught.

“Just a little something,” he said, brushing your hair back behind your ear. “For being the heart of this house. For loving him. For loving me.”

You stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest.

He held you there, quietly rocking back and forth, and you knew—whether he brought home ten toys or none at all—you already had everything you needed.