#yang jeongin x y/n | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreaming-medium · 1 year ago

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White Nail Polish

Pairing: I.N x reader

Genre: pure fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: Every Sunday when Yang Jeongin comes home to your shared apartment, there you’ll be, in your corner seat on the couch, painting your nails the same white color. But today, when he steps inside, you’re not there.

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You always painted your nails yourself.

“It’s easier!” You would tell Jeongin with a bubbly smile. “Plus, it’s so nice to take some time to pamper myself. And I get to save money.”

It was a simple tradition he’s come to look forward to.

Every Sunday, when Jeongin walked in the door to your shared apartment and the smell of acetone smacked him in the face, he would always smile.

There you would be, on your designated corner seat on the couch, in your coziest, oversized hoodie, a fresh clay face mask on your face with your hair held back by a fuzzy headband.

The same fuzzy headband he stuck in your Christmas stocking last year.

You’d only just be finishing taking the last coat off your nails by the time he got home.

Without fail, Jeongin would walk in and immediately open the window to air out the chemical smell. He would then lecture you about fumes and how dangerous it was to be inhaling them.

Then, you would giggle and ask him to sit with you. He would do so without any fuss and a happy tingle in his chest.

Both of you would talk and watch TV until it was time for bed.

Sundays were his new favorite days.

The roommate line of your relationship was quickly crossed with how you were as a person, your overly friendly nature couldn’t keep you apart for long. After living together for two years now, Jeongin would easily proclaim you as one of his best friends.

His life was always changing, nothing was ever the same; nothing except for you and your white nail polish.

So, when he opened the door and was met with only the smell of a burning candle, Jeongin frowned.

The living room was dark. The TV wasn’t on. The entire apartment was standing still.

Not even a fresh pot of coffee was sitting on the counter.

You were home, though. Your shoes were by the door and your keys were hanging on the hook.

Never once have you missed a ‘Self Care Sunday’ as you coined them.

Even when you had the flu, you made sure to paint your pretty nails.

The door shut behind him, the click of the lock was as hollow as the apartment felt.

Jeongin kicked his shoes off and made his way down the hall, tossing his bag in his room before walking across the hall to stand in front of your closed door. The soft glow of your fairy lights shined from the crack underneath the wood.

There’s soft sounds coming from inside, it sounds like you’re watching videos on your phone.

He knocks a few times, you hum for him to come in.

Jeongin pushes the door open gently, his head peeking in first before his body.

You’re a lump of blankets on top of the bed. If he looked quickly, he might not have realized that it was you underneath all the blankets and pillows.

“Y/N?” he asks quietly, stepping inside slowly.

Your eyes look at him, they seem… dull. When you see his face, you lock your phone and place it down on your bed.

Again, you only hum.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asks. Jeongin walks towards the bed and sits on the edge. “You’ve never missed a Sunday before.”

You shrug— or at least, he thinks it’s a shrug, all Jeongin’s able to see is the lump of blankets move around.

His eyebrows pull together and he purses his lip. “What’s going on?”

You look away from him. “Just… life weighing down extra today. Exams, job, finding an internship, life, everything.”

Every day you were bubbly. Not a moment went by where you didn’t have a varying degree of a smile on your face. Some people had a resting bitch face, you had a resting happy face.

The corners of your lips were perpetually upturned.

Seeing you now, like this, a sad lump of fleece, pulled at Jeongin’s heartstrings.

You reach one hand out from under the blankets and place it gently on top of his. “Sorry for being all meh,” you huff a humorless laugh through your nose. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. I think I need to be a bedbug today.”

Jeongin thinks for a moment, he looks around your room to your desk. Everything that you usually use on Sundays is there on top.

He flips his hand around and picks yours up, bringing it closer to his face. Cocking his head to the side, he peers down at your nails, making sure to exaggerate how much he’s judging the chipped polish.

“No, no,” he says, clicking his tongue. “This won’t do at all.”

“Jeongin—“

“Nope, look at this.” He holds your hand up for you to see. “How unprofessional. We have to take care of this.”

You roll your eyes. And it doesn’t slip past Jeongin’s watchful eye that your lips twitch in a smile.

“I just don’t feel like it right now,” you whine.

“That’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Jeongin pulls on your arm to yank you out of the blanket pile.

You blink a few times and allow him to sit you up on the bed. A large, stretched out t-shirt hung off your shoulder, your hair sticks up in different directions.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I’ll paint your nails, come on. Free of charge.”

Jeongin stands up from the bed and holds his hand out for you. You just blink at him over and over.

“You’re going to paint my nails?” The question ends with an incredulous laugh.

Rolling his eyes, Jeongin thrusts his hand out for you to take again. “Yes, I’m going to paint your nails, what’s so odd about that?”

“Have you ever painted your nails before?”

“No, but I watch you do it every week. How hard could it be?”

Your face scrunches up but a small twinkle returns to your eyes. It doesn’t slip past Jeongin.

Deciding that you’re taking too long, Jeongin leans down and picks you up over his shoulder.

A loud squeal comes from your throat that dissolves into giggles. His heart lights up at the sound— it always has.

Even on his worst days, hearing your laughter was like sitting in front of a fireplace during a snowstorm. When he’s sick, he swears he doesn’t need medicine, he just needs to sit near you.

He can still remember one night where he was at his wit’s end, everything that could go wrong, did. He was so overstimulated and angry at everything that he could scream and cry at the same time.

But then, your laughter pierced through the gray clouds of his mind. Your fit of giggles traveled through your door and into his room, they were so muffled but uncontrolled.

Slowly, they dissolved into cackles. Breathless wheezes and snorts that made him smile without knowing what you’re looking at.

You had one of those laughs that was so contagious, especially to him.

There was a bit of shuffling, a door opened, and then you came through his with one of the happiest smiles he’s ever seen. Tears coming down your red face from laughing so hard.

“You have to see this!” you wheezed out.

What was it? A video of a duck sitting on top of a water park geyser, when the water jet activated, the duck went flying.

It wasn’t even that funny. But hearing your angelic laughter made it hilarious.

Suddenly, his day wasn’t so bad anymore. He couldn’t even remember what he was mad about.

That’s the friendship you both have always carried on with.

A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, an arm to grab when you’re laughing too hard, an extra coffee to bring home, a constant reminder to refill the Brita. It gets deeper and deeper every day.

Jeongin unceremoniously plops you into your corner seat and you let out an ‘ooof!’

He points down at your face. “Stay.”

“I’m not a dog!” You laugh nonetheless while Jeongin’s lithe form disappears down the hallway again.

You look down at your nails. They desperately needed to be done. After studying for hours on end while chewing on your nails, typing on your laptop, and picking nervously at them, there’s barely any polish left.

Truly, you were just going to wait until tomorrow— but if Jeongin was offering, who were you to turn it down?

He comes back out into the living room with everything you typically used. You honestly never noticed how much he paid attention to your pampering.

Setting everything down on the table, he sits cross legged on the seat next to yours and clicks the TV on. A random Christmas movie plays in the background.

He grabs the remover and a cotton pad and goes to work. All the motions look so natural after he grabs your first hand; like he’s the one that does this every Sunday, not you.

The two of you are facing one another, knees practically touching. He’s so gentle when he works.

The chemical burning smell of acetone makes him scrunch his nose up.

“Aren’t you going to open the windows?” you tease.

He grins. “In a minute. The smell has to permeate the house first.”

“And here I thought you hated the smell.”

“I do,” he wipes off polish and goes to the next finger. “But it’s just … something that’s grown on me.”

“Acetone?”

“Yeah,” he snorts. “Strangely enough. I hate it, but I love it.”

He switches to the next hand.

The Christmas movie continues to play, it’s a classic one with Korean translated subtitles at the bottom of the screen. It’s weird hearing English come out of the TV.

Jeongin’s been trying extra hard with English since you moved in. With you being from America, it was like having a live-in tutor.

“I … need remote, please.” He asked in a slow, calculated tone.

“You need the remote,” you corrected him, holding it out of his reach.

“I need the remote.”

“Why?”

“Change channel.”

“Change the channel.”

“Oh my god.”

Your attention goes back to Jeongin. He’s wiping the last of the nail polish off your fingers.

He’s been your rock these last two years. And you’ve been his.

Neither of you really enjoy having emotional conversations or talking about your feelings, you both prefer to stay quiet about it. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need some form of support.

That’s how you two work out so well. When one needs help, the other is there with jokes or food or a movie ready to watch.

Or in this case, nail polish ready to be applied.

With a huff, he stands up from the couch and pushes open one of the windows. He fans his hand in front of his face just to be extra dramatic.

Rolling your eyes, you poke him in the side when he sits back down on the couch.

You were expecting him to put the paint on right away afterwards, so imagine your surprise when he picks up the small pair of clippers.

With a raised eyebrow, you take your hand away a little. His grip tightens and his head snaps up to look at you with a mock-offended expression.

“Nuh-uh!” you tease. “You’re gunna give me man nails!”

“I will not!” he jests back. “I will clip your nails exactly how you usually do it!”

Your eyes narrow, he mirrors it.

You jut out your bottom lip, he mirrors it.

You slowly turn your head to the side to side-eye him, he mirrors it.

“I'm trusting you, Yang Jeongin. Christmas is next week. I don’t want man hands.”

He scoffs and looks back down at your hand. “I have rough news, Y/N.”

You balk and rip your hand away from him and then usher a swift smack to his bicep.

The two of you giggle the more you smack him around playfully.

“I do not have man hands!” you yell.

He laughs with you, holding his arms up to shield himself. “Okay, okay! Fine! You have beautiful womanly hands! Enough!”

You stop smacking him. “That’s more like it.”

With that adorable smile, Jeongin reaches forward and grabs your hand once again.

“One set of ridiculously short nails coming up.”

“I’ll poison your coffee tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, Yang.”

He snickers once more and then starts cutting your nails in small, little snips.

Jeongin just trims them a bit— he does a perfect job if you’re being completely honest. You preferred them a little longer anyway.

When he picks the nail file up, you’re less wary.

He files your nails down a little more, rounding off the edges just how you like.

“How was rehearsal?” you ask quietly.

“Are we gossiping now? Is this what it’s like getting your nails done at a salon?”

You chuckle. “Yes, now tell me all about it.”

“It was good, I had vocal training after, so it was a long day.”

“What does your day look like tomorrow?”

“Nothing tomorrow. But Tuesday we leave for Japan until Thursday.”

You hum, watching him file your nails. “Nervous?”

“Always. It’s never gone away.”

You giggle. “I think if you weren’t nervous, you would have too big of a head.”

“Or I would be Minho.”

Then, simultaneously, you both go: “Same thing.” And then break into a fit of laughter.

He files your one pinky finger and looks down at both of your hands at once.

“How’s that shape look?”

You bring them up closer for you to look at. They all look even and perfect.

How is he doing this?

“I think you should open a salon,” you tell him, still inspecting your nails.

“Ah, yes, let me abandon my idol lifestyle to be a nail tech.”

Jeongin grabs your one hand and files a little notch off that you didn’t see.

Again, you giggle.

He puts the nail file down and picks up the bottle of white polish you use every week. He shakes it around just like you do, hitting it against the heel of his palm.

Holding his hand out, you put yours in his.

“If you couldn’t be an idol, what would you do?” you ask suddenly.

Jeongin doesn’t even pause, but you can see he’s thinking about your question as he unscrews the bottle. The excess on the brush is swiped on the neck.

“Hmm,” he weighs your question. “I don’t know, really. I love singing so much.”

Jeongin grabs your one finger and swipes the polish over your nail.

“You could be a lounge singer,” you tease. “Singing in those fancy, swanky nightclubs at the piano.”

“Would I have a tip jar on top?”

“Oh, of course. It would be overflowing from all the women who fall in love with you every night.”

His cheeks heat up from the compliment, moving from nail to nail with the first coat.

“Don’t say things like that,” he mumbles.

You snicker. “Sorry, but all the old ladies would be head over heels for you. They’d empty their wallets into your tip jar and you would smile and wink at them with those dimples.”

With your free hand, you poke at his face. Jeongin swats at your hand with a whine.

“I’ll mess up your nails on purpose!” he threatens.

Still laughing, you take your hand away from his face. He switches to the second hand. You blow on the first one.

“Okay, your turn: why white?” He asks, paying attention to his careful brush strokes.

“The color?”

He hums an ‘mhmm’.

You smile down at the color on your first hand he did, admiring the way the white looks.

“I think it’s pretty,” you tell him.

“That’s all?”

You snort. “Does there need to be another reason?”

“No, I guess not.” He moves from finger to finger.

“It makes me feel a little extra beautiful. I can’t explain it, but having my nails painted white feels so pretty.”

His own smile is warm and happy. His cheeks scrunch up and the small blush of pink that sits on them make your stomach dance.

You’ve never really needed anything else like you’ve needed his presence— nor have you craved anything similar.

Jeongin is Jeongin. He’s simple and everything you could ever ask for.

“My turn again; if you could change one decision you’ve made in the last five years, what would it be?”

Jeongin whistles and finishes the first coat on your hands. “That’s a heavy question, Y/N.”

You continue to blow on your nails. “Well, I figured we were getting deeper and deeper.”

“I asked you why you liked white nail polish!”

“And I asked you to take a deep dive into your regrets, I think these are pretty similar.”

“Is it?”

“Hell yeah.”

Jeongin grabs the first hand he was working on and takes a look at the polish. “How long does it take to dry?”

“It’s a special gel polish, so ten minutes between coats.”

“How long do you think it’s been?”

“Maybe five?”

He nods and turns to look at the TV. His eyes scan over the subtitles at the bottom to understand what’s happening.

But you don’t look at the TV, you continue to stare at him.

Jeongin’s boyish charm never seems to go away no matter what. Even after all the soft lines of his face turned into hard ones, that teasing happiness is still there.

When you became roommates two years ago it was because you desperately needed a place to stay and he just as direly needed someone to pay the other half of the rent.

A match made in Heaven.

He continued to be an idol and you continued college.

When you first moved in, Jeongin told you that if you wanted more privacy, to let him know, that he was more than content to leave communal spaces to you.

You looked him in the eye and asked, “What if I wanted to hang out with you?”

Neither of you have looked back.

You needed a friend and he needed someone who wasn’t in his group. The boys can only do so much for his sanity.

Sometimes he just needs to come home to acetone and fresh coffee.

Scrunching your nose, you look down at your first hand and poke at the first coat. When your fingerprint doesn’t show up, you hold it out to Jeongin.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He looks back at you, then down at your hand and takes it. God, his hands are so soft.

“It’s too heavy of a question,” he whines.

“I wanna know the answer, though.”

He applies the second coat to a nail.

“I mean, I regret having to wear some of the outfits they had us in before and right after debuting.”

You laugh, it’s a cackle. Jeongin cracks a smile— it feels like a victory in his head.

“Okay, but I mean a real regret. Something you had control over.”

He stops painting your nails and thinks. His lip pulls between his teeth and his eyebrows pull together. Jeongin’s eyes flit around while his brain reels.

After a few seconds, he shakes his head and looks up at you. “I really can’t think of anything, Y/N.”

“Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“Not even me moving in?”

His eyes glisten and soften considerably when he hears you say that. The corners of his lips twitch and his heart stutters in his chest a bit.

It feels like cotton is shoved into his mouth while he looks at you. Your hair is still frizzy and everywhere, bare faced with sleepy bags under your eyes, pajamas from this morning still on.

If there was one decision that he was sure he made the best choice of in the past five years, it was you.

“No,” he says with a twinkly smile. “Not even that.”

His demeanor catches you off guard, but you don’t let it show too much.

Jeongin looks at you for a few more seconds before looking down to switch hands.

“My turn again. If you could do anything for a living, what would you do?” he questions while carefully painting.

“Oh, easy. Actress.”

Surprised, he looks back up at your face. “Really?”

“Yeah! I was doing a lot of acting back in America, just local stuff. But when it came time for college, I gave it up.” Your eyes shine sadly. “I was pretty good too, but it’s just one of those careers that have too much uncertainty.”

“Like being an idol.”

“Exactly.” You swallow thickly. “So I went for the secure route.”

Jeongin focuses down on your nails again.

You keep talking. “Besides, I get to live through you.”

His painting stutters, but he continues nonetheless. “What do you mean?”

“You come home with these fun stories of being famous, all the people you get to meet, the countries you get to see. You get to wear Alexander McQueen for God’s sake.”

He blushes, and paints the second coat on your pinky finger.

“Jeongin, your life is so cool. You get to fly to Japan on Tuesday, and you said it like it was just a regular commute. That’s … that’s amazing, you know?”

“It’s not all like that.” He inspects each nail, making sure nothing got messed up.

“I know. There’s crazy fans and all the blood, sweat, and tears.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes. “‘Crazy’ isn’t even a good enough word to describe some of them.”

You laugh.

The TV continues to play.

“But you get to do what you love,” you whisper to him through a thick voice.

Jeongin looks at you closely. There’s unshed tears welling up in your eyes. His heart sinks.

Swallowing, your eyes drop to the couch.

“I gave up on that dream a while ago.” You take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “So I decided to live vicariously through you and your fun stories.”

You shrug and roll your eyes to stare up at the ceiling. Your lip quivers.

With your hands still in his, Jeongin threads your fingers together and holds your hands up between you two.

He says nothing.

He doesn’t know what to say.

What can he say in this situation?

You don’t need him to say anything, though. You never have. The fact that he’s there is enough.

“Maybe that’s why we workout so well as roommates,” you say, “no one would suspect a normal girl, with a boring 9-5 would be living with idol superstar I.N from Stray Kids.” Humor was always your coping mechanism.

Letting out a deep breath towards the ceiling, you look back down at him, hands still intertwined.

“Thanks for letting me mooch off your life stories.”

Jeongin chuckles. “Anytime.” He pauses. “For the record, I don’t think your life is boring.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

He nods enthusiastically. “You did that research study about traffic safety last month, I thought it was really interesting.”

An unbelieving laugh leaves your chest. “You don’t need to lie.”

He squeezes your hands. “No, really! You’re studying so hard to be an analyst. You sat outside in the freezing cold for days and days and days watching the crosswalk of a busy road just to collect data.”

It’s true, you did do that. Jeongin also stopped by about once every other hour to give you a hot beverage or food.

If he noticed you were getting cold, the next trip consisted of extra jackets and blankets.

The things you do for research.

“After your findings were submitted, the city started the process to add more crosswalks to busy streets. You’re like a superhero.”

You stare at him for a second before bursting out in laughter. “What a lame superhero!”

Your cackles, like always, are contagious. He can’t fight his own giggles bubbling to the surface in his heart.

Before he knows it, Jeongin is laughing with you.

“I’m Captain Statistics! I beat the odds no matter what!”

He laughs even harder at your pun.

The two of you are giggling so much, your bodies falling forward on the couch, hunched over in a fit of laughter.

But, your hands stay intertwined.

Eventually, the laughter dies down.

Jeongin squeezes your hands once more and flips them around to look at your nails.

“I think it’s time for the top coat, Captain Statistics.”

You look at your hands and test the polish. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He switches the white bottle out for the clear coat. Repeating the shaking process and grabbing your hand.

The top coat goes on much quicker than the white polish does.

“Thank you for this, Jeongin,” you say quietly.

The smile that grows on his face reminds you of those timelapse videos of flowers growing in the Spring. It takes up the entirety of his face— and your heart.

“Of course, Y/N. Happy to do it.”

He moves to the other hand. You blow on the first one.

It’s the truth, he was happy to do it. He’d do it again if you asked him to. Jeongin would happily paint your nails every Sunday for the rest of your lives if you wanted.

Words sit in his mouth, words that he’s wanted to say for months now, words that would change the entirety of your relationship.

They’re so heavy on his tongue.

Jeongin can practically feel them tumbling out. He has to clench his jaw from keeping his confession to himself.

How much longer until he explodes? You can only shake a soda bottle too much before everything comes out the top.

God, he loves you so much.

You say it to him all the time, you say it to everyone so often.

“I love you” is said all the time by you. It’s as easy as breathing for you.

He asked you about it once, why do you say it so much? Your answer?

“People need to know when they’re loved. I will happily be that person that reminds them.”

As if he couldn’t love you more already. You’re just a light, a star, a sun.

Yes.

You’re his sun. The center of his galaxy. Everything revolves around you, he gravitates to you. He can’t help but bask in your warmth every single day.

The last of the top coat is painted delicately. They’re done.

“Finished,” he says quietly.

Your smile lights up the room.

“God, you’re the best, Jeongin,” you say, admiring his handiwork. “Thank you so much!”

He mirrors your smile and starts putting everything away. “Anytime, Y/N.”

Jeongin screws the lids tighter on the polish and acetone. A car honks outside. The TV plays on. The heat kicks on. You blow on your nails.

“I’ll miss you this week,” you tell him casually.

He looks over at you, folding his long legs up on the couch again.

“Really?”

“I always miss you, Jeongin. The apartment feels colder when you’re gone.”

He studies your face for a long stretch of time.

You’re too busy smiling at your nails to notice.

He can’t take it anymore.

“I lied to you,” he says suddenly. You look at him, slightly alarmed.

“What?” you ask.

“I lied— when I said I had no regrets, I lied.”

Your face scrunches up. “Why?”

He swallows nervously. “Close your eyes and I’ll tell you.”

You eye him curiously for a few more seconds before your eyes slide shut.

Jeongin’s heart rate picks up exponentially. It’s going to explode at this rate.

He leans forward towards your face, you’re so perfect. How are you so perfect?

He hesitates.

But, he swallows his nerves and swoops in the rest of the way, pressing his lips to yours delicately. Your body jolts, but you don’t move away from him.

It’s no more than a long peck. Electricity shoots through his body anyway.

A shock goes from his heart to his toes. He can barely feel his fingers.

You’re so magical. How do you do this?

Jeongin pulls away slowly, brushing your noses together and letting your shaky exhales mingle with one another.

He can’t open his eyes. He’s so worried that if he does, he’ll see rejection and disdain in your beautiful eyes.

You’re the first one to speak through the thick silence.

“I fail to see how that is a regret,” you whisper.

He laughs. Like always, you get him to laugh. He rests his forehead on yours.

“I regret not doing it sooner.” His long fingers come up to cup your one cheek.

You hum and lean into his touch.

Validation courses through his veins. It’s taking everything in his body not to jump for joy.

All he wants to do is stand up and scream, pump his fist in the air and claim victory.

Before he could do any of that, you lean forward and kiss him again.

Your top lip slots between his, his bottom in between both of yours.

A sigh of relief leaves his nose, his other arm wraps around your shoulders to bring you even closer. He can’t get you close enough to his body.

Closer, closer, closer.

Please, he needs you to be as close as possible.

He pulls back from the first kiss just to press another one to your lips.

Again, and again, and again— he pulls away just to swoop back in.

It’s never enough.

It’s like drinking water after you’ve been parched all day. He never knew he was crawling through a desert until now.

“Jeongin,” you giggle through his frantic kisses.

He grunts in response and continues to kiss you more. Why can’t he get enough?

He’s resigned himself to his fate. He’ll need to kiss you forever until the world ends.

“Jeongin,” you say again, still laughing.

How has he gone this long without your kisses? It’s madness.

Finally, you pull back. He dives in for another kiss, you turn your head with a brilliant smile, his lips meet your cheek.

Eh, that’ll do.

Over and over again he pecks your cheek. Laugh after laugh comes from you.

“My nails!” you finally call out. “You’re going to ruin them!”

His hand turns your face to look at him. “I’ll do them again. I’ll do them again and again, just please let me kiss you.”

Unable to take it any longer, you throw your arms around his neck and smash your lips together.

You pull him down onto the sofa with you, kiss after kiss being shared between the two of you.

How was he supposed to go to Japan now?

————————————————————————

(A/N: yes, the duck video exists. You can see it here. The first time I saw it I laughed so hard my housemate came in to check on me.)

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #yang jeongin x reader #i.n x reader #yang jeongin x y/n #i.n x y/n #i.n skz #stray kids fanfic

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kiestrokes · 8 days ago

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Day 14: Yang Jeongin | NSFW

▸ Idol: Yang Jeogin of SKZ ▸ Rating: NSFW. Mature (18+) Minors DNI. ▸ Genre: a hard hour that got away from me, drabble, smut, little brothers best friend AU. ▸ Vibe: reader has a corruption kink and their little brothers best friend is really testing their control this holiday season. ▸ Warnings: language, slight age gap like five-ish years, drinking, club scene.

Sexually Explicit Content: CORRUPTION KINK DNI if this is not something you vibe with, kissing, groping/fondling, slight sub/dom dynamics, masturbation (male), mischievous turn of events.

🗝️ Note: Has not beta-ed by me or anyone else. Happy wipmas 🤗 @minttangerines is once again at fault for their bby bread agenda, thank you to Luce, @chans-room and @minisugakoobies for your input on the direction of the story.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

「 25 Hours: Hard, Soft and WIP-mas Masterlist 」

Jeongin.

Your brain hissed the name of your little brothers best friend, as he appeared in your line of sight. Through the undulating bodies, strobing multicolored lights and pulse of the speakers.

In the last week of being home for a visit with your family, he had been everywhere. Inescapable. No longer the thin, shy boy with sometimes snarky remarks. He had grown into his body.

A body that apparently he had no issues in constantly showing off. You were downstairs meticulously pouring creamer into your coffee, watching it for the right shade of caramel, when he appeared. Shirtless. Gray sweats hanging loose around his cut hips. Creamer spilled across your hand and on to the counter.

Jeongin had laughed your name then, rushing over to help you clean the mess. When all you wanted to do was scream for his half naked body to get away.

The pattern continued on like this over the last week. Jeongin choosing to nestle himself between you and your baby brother on movie night. The heat of his warm thigh seeping into your toes through the protective blanket shield, as you had your knees tucked under you for comfort. How he had sweetly asked to share the blanket with you, his hands underneath, resting on your bare ankle.

Your control and grip on reality slowly slinking away as your urge for depravity started to rear its ugly, seductive head. After watching polite and coy Jeongin interact with your other family members and childhood friends. Your teeth tingled at the thought of showing him an taboo side of things he probably never knew to exist.

"Noona!"

Suddenly that timid pup, turned sly fox had made the decision to approach you first. You assumed it was out of courtesy, being you had been gawking at him for the last five minutes.

"Jeongin, my friends and I have a private room upstairs would you like to join us?"

A familiar dimpled grin greets you in answer, you take his hand and guide him towards the stairs for the bottle service suites.

The two of you spend the night with your friends, catching up on his new role at work, introducing him to new liquors and tinctures of familiar ones. His thigh purposefully pressed into yours at all times. You read this as his bashfulness still bleeding through, and your stomach tightens as the urge to exploit flames across you.

"Noona," Jeongin calls, hand tugging your arm so that you will turn back to him from your conversation with a previous male classmate.

"Can I have a sip?"

He is pulling the wrist holding you glass towards him, your knee slots ever so slightly between his thighs to accommodate the angle he is asking and your willpower dissipates when he opens his knees to you.

"You're being quite needy," you tease, leaning in to squish his flushed cheeks and place the cup to his lips.

Jeongin drinks the entire glass under your unspoken instruction. His foxlike eyes boring into yours, asking, begging for more. You arrange a ride on your phone before pouring yourself another, much stronger drink.

The car ride is thick with the promise of more, Jeongin's hand interlaced with yours on his thigh. A quiet move, stating you were the one in control and that he was your submissive.

The two of you stumble into your bedroom, the house empty tonight as the rest of your family was attending your Aunt's annual holiday party. Jeongin sprawls to a sitting position on your bed, legs opened wide, head lifted and eyes on you, calling you in.

"Jeongin-" you step between his open thighs, raking a hand through his shaggy hair.

He tilts his face upwards, sitting up taller, "noona."

His hands ghost on the outside of your body, not touching, but asking wordlessly for permission to touch. You groan, climbing into his lap and grasping one of his hands to press it into your ass. That is half bared to him, where your dress rucked itself up.

Jeongin moans your name, fingers biting into the bare cheek of your ass as he tumbles back onto the bed just as your lips ghost over his.

"The room is spinning."

You cannot stop the tipsy giggle that leaves your lips at his confession. A paradox for how his hands are greedily trying to roll your hips into his trapped erection.

Sitting up, you press your full weight into his pelvis, hands moving to undo what few buttons are left to be opened on his shirt. Jeongin groans underneath you, bucking into your weight.

"Shhh, don't get so worked up just yet," you kiss his cheekbone before sitting back, "sit up for me."

Jeongin obeys, and you help him out of his shirt, leaving his lap to carefully drape it across your desk chair. Stripping out of your clothes as he watches, until you're naked in front of him and he moves to reach for you but you brush him off.

Bipassing his reaching arms to rifle through your suitcase, plucking out a pair of soft boy shorts and your favorite oversized t-shirt.

"Noona-" Jeongin calls, his voice tainted with the faintest whine.

You come into his space then, planting a soft kiss to his lips and down his cheek, along his jaw and neck. As your hands work to unbutton his jeans, he lifts his hips with your guidance and you gift him another soft kiss before pulling away to neatly fold his pants and place them on the chair with your other discarded clothing.

Jeongin rolls his socks off himself, standing up and placing them to join the others. The air between the two of you fizzes with anticipation. Slowly, tauntingly you reach up to cup him through his briefs, watching as his head kicks back with a pitchy groan.

"Oh," you cannot help the disappointment that bleeds into the word.

"Just give me a minute, its all of the alcohol."

"Come on."

You lead him to the bed, "I expected something like this, lets just sleep it off for a bit."

Jeongin nods in disappointment as he climbs in next to you under the covers. You groan, wrapping yourself around him as planting another kiss to his lips but pulling away before he can deepen it. Jeognin nuzzles into your chest, the booze effectively pushing him into a deep slumber

Your awoken to the sound of a car door slamming the next morning, jerking back into Jeongin. He grumbles nestling his erection into you ass as his arms tighten around your stomach.

"Jeognin-"

He lets out a sleepy click of his tongue, one hand slipping under your shirt to trace circles with his thumb on your stomach and the other roughly cupping your breast through the threadbare t-shirt.

You gasp, ass kicking back into his hips as he pinches your nipple. His other hand teasing he band of your panties. You clutch his hand to stop it and he groans, rubbing against you with this newfound embrace.

"I think everyone is home."

"I don't care-" Jeongin's teeth tug at the shell of your ear and you pant quietly in response.

Your hips rocking right along with his, teetering on the edge of your corruption kink and being the respectful eldest daughter. The first winning out when he whines your name into the side of your throat.

His fingers drift over your thighs and you tug them away from their destination and he moves off in a different direction. Palming your bare breast, stroking your lips, fisting your ass.

You groan, rolling over in his arms to caress every inch of his toned front. Finally letting him pull your mouth to his is a desperate kiss. Mouths open to each other, tongues swirling and teeth biting. Your fingers travel across his toned back, down to squeeze his firm ass.

Jeongin moaning into your mouth, melting at every touch and stoke of your tongue. His impatient hand grabs your wrists, pressing it into his still clothed erection. You give it a firm squeeze before pulling away.

"We can't- not now."

Jeongin lets out a long whine, snatching both wrists and pinning you on your back to the bed.

"In-ah," you gasp.

His head diving to leave open mouth kisses down your neck, his hips rolling into your pelvis, cock pressing into your damp panties, pushing up your shirt to squeeze your breast.

"Noona, just let me-" he finally succeeds in cupping your pussy, lifting his head to watch as you bow into him with a silent gasp.

"We can't."

Jeongin drags his knuckles roughly over your clothed clit, causing you to convulse. Your nails biting into his forearm, as her hips rut on their own accord into his fist.

"You sure?"

Jeongin grips your jaw, diving in to kiss you again when someone walks past your locked door. You freeze, cheek snapping towards the noise. You know its your brother by the sound of his dragging feet and you have his best friend on top of you.

You press both hands to his chest, "we can't, not now."

Jeongin stiffly moves off of you and you slip out of the bed, not even glancing back or speaking to him. You strip out of your clothes, leaving them scattered on the floor and slip into your on suite bathroom for a shower.

Jeongin groans, raking a hand down his face, down his abdomen and into his boxers. He can't believe after all his planning he still didn't get to experience you.

Jeongin had caught glimpses over the years, behind doors that hadn't full closed, in the school theatre when you and whatever lucky partner happened to be with you thought no one was home. How you teases and taunted the shy (fit) boys into submission. Had them coming so hard from orgasm denial, all over themselves.

You had a type and Jeongin knew he was halfway there, he just needed to focus on building his body. But he had accomplished that by twenty-one, yet you still wouldn't give him the attention he so desperately sought. So he decided he would have to use your own kink against you, slinking into a little corrupting himself.

Things were going so well until the alcohol hit his dick last night. He grunts, fisting himself hard, giving himself a frustrating tug when another idea hits.

Jeongin sits up, quickly kicking out of his boxers, he tucks them under your pillow, damp with your own arousal and his precum. Stiffly he walks over to retrieve your discarded panties from the floor. Lifting them to his nose, the salty almost cloudy scent of your essence floods his tongue and goes straight to his balls.

Jeongin reclaims his seat on the edge of your bed, your boy shorts clutched in one hand as he steals a pump of your lotion from the bedside table. Moaning as your scent fills the room, jasmine and ylang ylang. He strokes the lotion over his leaking cock. Head kicking back as the thoughts take over.

You're pinning him to the bed, soft pussy slicking up his cock until he's delirious, begging you to let him inside. You want him to come first, but he wants to come inside you to mix his release with yours, to claim you. He's fighting himself not to give in to your touch.

Jeongin's hips buck into his hand as he barrels towards his release, teeth biting into his lip to trap his whines inside until one last thrust he releases into your panties with a winded cry.

Chest heaving, he folds them neatly, setting your soiled panties aside so he can dress, sans boxers before stashing your underwear into the back pocket of his slacks and exiting your bedroom.

You cannot stand when things aren't in your control, when things are messy and especially when your favorite pair of sleep panties go missing.

Jeongin's heatbeat is in his throat as he sneaks out of your families home, a place he is much more accustomed to sneaking into. Both of your parents groaning about hangovers around the coffee pot in the kitchen. Your brother was probably sleeping face down in his unmade bed upstairs, winter coat still on.

Now it was just a waiting game.

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hyunnieshannie · 2 years ago

Text

Stray Kids reacting to you having a subscription to their bubble:

Part 2

A/N: This is a peace offering since I’m really busy right now and EX can’t be uploaded yet. I hope you accept this offering until I can get the next chapter up 💕💕

#stray kids #skz fluff #skz #stray kids stay #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #bang chan x y/n #lee know x y/n #changbin x y/n #hyunjin x y/n #han jisung x y/n #lee felix x y/n #seungmin x y/n #yang jeongin x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids reactions

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minminyoonjii · 3 months ago

Note

i had such a brainrot about poly!ot8skz hybrid au with fem bunny reader where reader had gotten emotional about something (you can decide what) which led to fox jeongin comforting reader and the boys walk in… EXCEPT, it’s the scene from zootopia when judy is crying and nick is teasing her as she tries to take the pen off of him…

i just SEE jeongin doing this to comfort you and to make you giggle… it’s also kinda 🫣 enjoy ml!!

(link below)

🔗: https://youtu.be/8vOBExaLXu4?feature=shared

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

💜Rules and Guidelines

🧡Stray Kids Scenarios Masterlist

🌹CW

💌 This is a work of fiction, I by all means don't force ship anyone. They have the right to love whomever they want.

🍄Wordcount: 393

Tears dripped down your cheeks as you watched a kdrama so beautifully written just to make your heart sob. "Can they please just get together already?" you sniffled, watching the male lead die for the nth time. Your ears flopped over your cheeks, your tail twitching with each sniffle you took. You rubbed your tears with your fist, wearing Chan's oversized hoodie.

His wolf figure was ten times bigger than the rest, thus giving you the best hoodie blanket in the pack. You blew your nose into some tissues, watching the female lead reincarnated again to save her lover's life. Jeongin bit back a smile, pretending to be nonchalant, "What are you crying at, shortcake?" he asked, crossing his arms. You sniffled, rambling about the show, each word getting drowned out by your sobs.

Jeongin swallowed a laugh, "That's it?" he said, just to rile you up. You furrowed your eyebrows, "Innie, it's romantic. It's love that has so many layers that even the soul can't forget it. I know it's dumb I'm crying this hard over a show. I know I'm really just a dumb bunny, but -" you ranted when suddenly you heard a familiar tape rewind. "I'm really just a dumb bunny," repeated back at you.

Jeongin smirked, loving your shocked expression, "Bun, you know I always take your emotions to heart right. When have I ever disregarded your feelings, hm? Except earlier, of course," he said, brushing back your hair. You sniffled, hopping into his arms, "Asshole," you whispered, sighing in relief as you burrowed into his chest. Jeongin chuckled, holding you close, "Aww, you bunnies are so emotional," he cooed, pampering kisses on your forehead.

You giggled into his chest, arm weakly trying to grab the recorder from his hand. Jeongin smirked, "Ah, are you trying to grab the pen? Is that what this is?" he chuckled, holding it higher. You smile against his pec, "Give," you whispered, comfy in his hold. The members tiptoed in, hoping not to break the adoring moment in front of them.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, his ears burning from embarrassment, but as long as your lips stayed in a smile, he'd do anything. You burrowed closer, comforted by his warmth scent and his tail wrapped around your waist. Jeongin scoffed a smile, clicking the recording once again just to hear your silly giggles.

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lixiepixiedust · 11 months ago

Text

I wanna show you off

pairing — idol!jeongin x f!reader (From the Unveiling Love series!)

word count — 5k

warnings — she/her reader, argument, hurt/comfort, exes (?) 2 lovers, jeongin is kinda toxic in a way but only slightly, suggestive themes (making out), reader is drunk, mentions of alcohol and night clubs, unwanted advances towards reader (not from jeongin)

summary — you and jeongin broke up after many arguments about how secret your relationship was. when you find yourself alone and uncomfortable at a club, jeongin comes to your rescue.

Inside the dance practice room, the tension between you and Jeongin was palpable. The air crackled with unspoken words, each movement echoing the silent storm brewing between you.

Jeongin's frustration boiled over, his voice piercing through the air like a knife. "Why do you always have to push me like this?!" he screamed, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You shot back, your own voice rising to match his intensity. "I'm tired of pretending like we're just friends when we're not! I want us to be open about us, about what we have!"

His eyes flashed with anger as he stepped closer, his breath hot against your face. "You know why we can't do that! My career, my image, everything will be ruined if they find out about us!"

"I'm not asking you to shout it to the world or to all your fans, Jeongin! But can't you at least acknowledge us when we're with close friends? You won't even let me meet your own members," you pleaded, your voice tinged with hurt and frustration.

Jeongin's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing with defiance. "You know it's not that simple. Our group's dynamic—it's delicate."

"Well, what about me? What about how I feel?" you countered, feeling the tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. "I'm tired of knowing I'm not good enough to be shown off!"

Tears streamed down your cheeks, your heart aching. As he paced back and forth, his frustration palpable in the air.

When he finally spoke, his voice was still thick with anger, his words cutting through the air like shards of glass. "We can't do this anymore," he said, his tone final and resolute.

Your heart sank like a stone as his words echoed in the empty room. "What do you mean?" you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief.

"Us. We're not meant to be together, not like this."

The pain in his words was like a physical blow, knocking the breath from your lungs as you struggled to comprehend what he was saying. "But… but I love you," you choked out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

He shook his head, "I'm sorry."

And with those final words, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the empty room, your heart shattered into a million irreparable pieces.

Jeongin knew he was going to finish work late that day. He was filming a music video which was specifically designed for a nighttime setting, which explained the extended working hours. As the filming progressed, each frame meticulously captured, Jeongin's anticipation grew for work to be over. When the time arrived, he eagerly checked his phone, expecting a text from you. However, to no surprise, he was still left with nothing. A furrow formed on his brow as frustration settled in.

He knew he shouldn't be doing this, yet he found himself yearning for your touch, your presence. After all, he had been the one to break things off, and it seemed unreasonable to expect you to reach out. He could still replay each word you said that night. All he wanted now was to hold you close, to reassure you that you were more than enough, that all he ever wanted to do was to protect you.

In the quiet moments of the night, he found himself grappling with the truth he had been avoiding: that despite his attempts to move on, he still loved you, still needed you in ways he couldn't admit even to himself.

He discreetly went to check your location, like he was committing a crime. To his surprise, he learned that you were currently at Hallyu, the most prestigious club in Gangnam favored by the wealthy, including his idol friends. Everyone knew that Hallyu held a reputation for discreet happenings, scandals, unspoken to the public. Whatever happens in Hallyu stays in Hallyu — or within the idols in general.

Going to Hallyu was a good way to unwind after a demanding comeback and promotional activities. Hallyu gets the busiest during the yearly break that most idols get, a time when companies are occupied with contract negotiations. This break becomes crucial for idols to rest, leaving the workload in the hands of their management departments.

What's interesting is that fans haven't realized that these are the only few weeks in the year with fewer comebacks, since everyone is on break. This trend usually happens around spring. During this time, new songs only come from smaller groups who are trying get noticed in the industry and earn revenue.

Jeongin ran a hand through his damp hair, his brows knit in concern. The unusual sight of you at Hallyu without him triggered a sense of worry. You had never ventured there without his company, and considering the strict entry policies, it puzzled him. The bouncers typically ensured you entered only in the presence of someone who was at least a little famous.

His mind raced through various scenarios—was there someone else with you? Perhaps an idol, an actor, or an obnoxiously rich man? He thought about it for a while. Surely you weren’t that poor yourself. Your family was fairly wealthy and your well-paying job provided a comfortable life for you. Yet, the thought of you gaining entry to Hallyu alone or with your everyday college friends seemed highly unlikely, as the club prioritized popularity over financial status. Lost in thought, Jeongin dedicated a considerable minute to pondering these perplexities, his gaze fixed on his phone screen.

"Jeongin," Hyunjin's voice called, pulling him from his contemplation. "You alright? You seem upset."

"No, um," he cleared his throat, still fixated on your icon on his phone screen. "I'm fine, just, um," he stammered. "Wanna go to Hallyu?" The question slipped out suddenly, and he shifted his gaze towards Hyunjin.

Hyunjin's eyes widened with a big smile, and Jeongin couldn't help but know exactly why he was so happy. Hyunjin had been begging for someone to join him at Hallyu. He’s always been quite a party animal. "Yes," he responded almost immediately. "Our hair already looks nice, and we're wearing…" Hyunjin eyed both of them, still clad in outfits from the music video shoot, not the most suitable attire for the club. "I'm sure we can find something hanging on the racks."

And indeed, Hyunjin was right. The stylist had left a few options for them. Jeongin, wanting to make a good impression, chose a clean white dress shirt that was unbuttoned down his chest. His hair had been professionally styled by the staff a few hours earlier, giving it a polished look. Jeongin couldn't help but notice your love for his growing-out hair—your tendency to run your fingers through it while cuddling and the smiles you had on your face when you made makeshift ponytails with his hair.

As he looked at himself in the mirror, a content smile crossed Jeongin's face. These efforts extended beyond just preparing for the club; they were a subtle declaration of his affection for you. Each choice, from the outfit to the hairstyle, was a deliberate attempt to present himself in a way that he knew would resonate with your taste and bring a smile to your face.

Hyunjin was prepared and looked exceptionally beautiful, as always. He carried a sultry vibe to him, enhanced by subtle details like the extra red on his lips and the fifty pounds of exquisite jewelry he made sure to put on.

As they prepared to head towards the car, Seungmin walked up from behind them, curiosity etched on his face. "Where are you two going?" he inquired. "The club," Hyunjin replied. "Alright, I'm coming with you," Seungmin decided. Jeongin gave a nod and a smile, patting Seungmin's shoulder gently before proceeding into the car. He also took charge of steering them to their destination.

"So Jeongin," Hyunjin questioned and leaned forward to the passenger seat where Jeongin was sitting. "Why the sudden change? You've always turned down the club."

Jeongin, with a casual shrug, replied, "Oh, I just haven't gone out in a while, you know? Figured tonight's the night."

Hyunjin furrowed his eyebrows, detecting a hint of something unusual in Jeongin's tone. His suspicion grew, and his lips formed a pout. "Something's off," he thought.

Brushing off his concerns for the moment, Hyunjin turned to Seungmin. "And what about you? Why the sudden interest in going out tonight?" he asked.

Seungmin smirked and looked at the rear-view mirror. "Well, Jeongin's going, so why not join in the fun?"

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at Seungmin's response, fake offense crossing his features. "So, what you're saying is you only wanted to go because Jeongin's going? I see how it is. Making me feel a bit left out, are we?" he quipped.

Seungmin chuckled. "Well, you know, Jeongin's got that charm."

"I'm offended, but y'know Jeongin asked me first." Hyunjin teased.

"Oh, by the way, wanna know something funny?" Seungmin suddenly mentioned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a sly grin, he began, "So, last weekend, I went to another club with this girl. Worst decision ever. The club itself was a disaster and she was just too much, you know?"

Hyunjin, intrigued, leaned towards Seungmin. "Who was it?" he urged.

Seungmin, with a smirk, teased, "That part, I can't tell you. Gotta keep my mouth shut."

Hyunjin persisted, "Oh, come on, give us a hint."

The mischievous look in Seungmin eyes intensified, and he simply replied, "Let's just say, she does music."

Hyunjin's eyes widened in excitement. "No way! An idol? Who could be so bad that she overwhelmed you?" he exclaimed, almost jumping in his seat.

Seungmin, nonchalant, rolled his eyes. "Believe me, it's a mystery."

Hyunjin's excitement reached new heights. "Come on, Minnie! You can't drop a bomb like that and not spill the details. Is she a rookie? Gosh, Kim Seungmin please don't be hanging around children."

Seungmin gasped dramatically, "What no! She's in a group that's been around for a while. But that's it, no more hints!"

Hyunjin, unable to contain his curiosity, leaned forward as if on the verge of revealing his suspicions. "Wait a minute… is it—" He caught himself just in time, the name hovering on the tip of his tongue. A sudden look of realization crossed his face, and he quickly retracted his statement. "Never mind, forget I said anything. I don't want to get into trouble."

Seungmin, smirking at Hyunjin's near revelation, teased, "Careful, Hyunjin." Hyunjin, grinning sheepishly, nodded in agreement.

Jeongin's noticeable silence lingered in the car, prompting Seungmin's concern. "You okay?" he asked, to which Jeongin offered a nod. Meanwhile, Hyunjin had a mischievous smirk on his face.

"So, Jeongin, how's it going with your girl?" Hyunjin probed, and Jeongin shot him a bemused look.

"We're good," Jeongin replied, refusing to tell them that you two had broken up.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes theatrically. "Come on, give us the juicy details. Ever since you two became official, you're acting like it's this huge secret. What's the deal?"

Jeongin, maintaining his composed demeanor, stated, "I don't feel the need to share my love life with everyone." Hyunjin responded with an audible groan as he heard this.

"No one's fun anymore," Hyunjin lamented. "Remember the good old days when you would gush about her. We'd get sick of hearing about your big fat crush on her. Now it's all hush-hush. Boring." He sighed as Seungmin pulled into the vast parking lot of the club.

Seungmin maneuvered the car into a spot, bringing it to a halt. The trio exited the car, and he swiftly locked it, the subtle click echoing in the night. They made their way towards the club entrance, where a formidable bouncer stood guard.

Recognizing the members, the bouncer nodded, allowing them passage. With a nod of gratitude, they entered the vibrant realm of Hallyu.

As soon as they stepped inside, Jeongin excused himself abruptly, leaving Hyunjin and Seungmin exchanging perplexed glances. Over the pounding beats and lively chatter, Hyunjin tried to communicate, "Where do you think he's off to so suddenly?"

Amidst the booming music and pulsating bass, Hyunjin attempted to voice their shared confusion, but Seungmin couldn't hear him. Seungmin strained to hear over the deafening noise, responding with a confused shrug. Hyunjin, realizing the problem, cupped his hands around his mouth and bellowed into Seungmin's ear, "WHERE DO YOU THINK HE'S OFF TO SO SUDDENLY?"

Seungmin, startled from the sudden volume, yelled back, "No idea!" They continued further into the club, navigating the lively crowd while Jeongin ventured off in search of you, his footsteps merging with the rhythmic beats that echoed through the Hallyu atmosphere.

Amidst the pulsating lights and thumping beats, Jeongin navigated through the expansive club, checking every corner except the bar in his quest to find you. The sea of people, familiar faces, and the sheer enormity of the venue made the search challenging.

Navigating through the pulsating crowd, Jeongin unexpectedly collided with Yuna. Her friendly smile greeted him, "Hey, Jeongin."

"Hi, Yuna," Jeongin replied, returning the greeting. Yuna's eyes held a flicker of recognition. "I see you brought your girlfriend here tonight," she remarked, making an assumption Jeongin wasn't prepared for.

Confusion furrowed Jeongin's brow as he eagerly asked, "My girlfriend?"

Yuna insisted, "Yeah, your girlfriend. Why are you so shocked?"

"Because I'm not dating anyone," Jeongin replied.

"Stop lying," Yuna said as she gave him a playful swat across the shoulder.

"Shin Yuna, I'm not, I'm serious," He laughed wholeheartedly.

"Yang Jeongin, I know there's a girl" She stated, giving him the same energy.

Jeongin sighed, accepting his defeat, "Well, did you see her anywhere? I don't know where she is."

Amused, Yuna teased, "How did you lose her?"

Growing more exasperated, Jeongin explained, "Because I didn't bring her here with me. She came without telling me, and I don't even know who she even came with! Just tell me where you saw her."

Rolling her eyes, Yuna quipped, "Jeez, I haven't met her before or seen her tonight, but some of the others pointed her out."

Jeongin face-palmed, frustration evident on his features. "How do people even know about her?"

"Your members are uncontrollable," Yuna chuckled.

Jeongin sighed, seeking more information, "Well, did anyone say where she was?"

"They had drinks with them earlier, so probably one of the bars. Maybe check around?" Yuna suggested, offering a helpful direction amid the chaos of the club.

Concern etched Jeongin's features as he mumbled a quick thanks and continued his search. Determined, he headed toward the bar, hoping to find you amidst the myriad faces in the bustling club.

As Jeongin approached the bar, scanning the crowded area, his heart skipped a beat as he spotted you, plopped on the counter. He could always recognize you from far away by the way your hair fell loose around your shoulders, catching the iridescent lights of the club. He couldn't help but notice the way your tight outfit hugged your curves in all the right places he was so familiar with. Instinctively, he walked up to you and put a gentle hand on your arm out of habit.

Unaware of his identity and startled by the sudden touch, you reacted defensively, swiftly hitting him, mistaking him for a stranger. Jeongin winced but quickly spoke, "Y/N, it's me." Your eyes widened in recognition.

"Jeongin? What are you doing here?" you spoke up, looking around nervously as if checking to see if anyone would notice you two talk to each other.

He arched an eyebrow, his expression turning serious. "I should be asking you the same question. What are you doing here alone?"

Your words came out slurred, and Jeongin's concern deepened as he noticed the unease in your demeanor. "I..." you began, your voice trailing off as tears welled up in your eyes.

Jeongin's heart clenched at the sight of your distress, and he sat down on the bar stool next to yours. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. Jeongin's concern deepened as he observed your drunk state. He could see the distress in your eyes and the vulnerability in your words. "Why are you so upset, Y/N?" he asked gently, with worry in his tone.

You hiccupped, the alcohol clearly affecting your composure. "It's just... some of my idol friends, they brought there, but then they left me alone with some guy. They keep doing this. I could never tell them I had a boyfriend, so they keep introducing me to these random men, and it's just... it's a little too much."

Jeongin listened attentively, his jaw clenched in silent anger. He knew how much you used to value your relationship, and the thought of your friends continuously setting you up with strangers without considering your feelings frustrated him.

"You shouldn't have to go through this, Y/N." Jeongin finally spoke.

A tear streamed down your face as you spoke, "And the guy tonight..." you began but a big hiccup interrupted you.

Jeongin's eyes narrowed, his protective instincts kicking in as he listened to your distressed voice. "What happened with him, Y/N? Did he do something to you?" he asked, his voice tense with concern.

You took a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. "He was just so bad, Jeongin. He kept on touching me and we kissed." You added, "Please don't be mad. I wouldn't take advantage of our breakup like that. I tried to stop him, but he was so pushy, and I didn't know what to do."

Jeongin's eyes tightened with anger as he heard the details of your distressing encounter. He remained silent for a moment, absorbing the gravity of the situation. Your fear was palpable, and he could feel the urgency in your plea for understanding.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, "Y/N, what does the guy look like?"

You hesitated, fear evident in your eyes. "I don't want to see him again. I just want to forget about it."

Jeongin's expression softened, understanding the depth of your discomfort. "I need to know so I can make sure you're safe. You don't have to face him again, but I need to know who he is."

You reluctantly told him the name of the guy and provided enough visual details for Jeongin to identify him if necessary. As you spoke, Jeongin's jaw clenched, his protective instincts kicking in even more.

After you finished explaining, Jeongin stayed silent for a moment before finally saying, "Y/N, I'll never be mad at you for this. I'm furious at that guy for treating you like that. No one should ever make you feel unsafe."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I just really want a hug right now," you admitted, your voice trembling.

Jeongin's eyes softened, and without a moment's hesitation, he pulled you into a tight embrace. It wasn't the response you were expecting. You had wanted him to suggest something like "Wanna leave? We can take a cab back to your house and I'll stay for the night." and hug you when you got home. Instead, Jeongin, sensing the urgency of the moment, chose to offer comfort right there and then.

As he held you close, the chaotic surroundings of the club seemed to fade away. Jeongin's arms provided a shield, and the steady beat of his heart against your ear drowned out the noise. It was an unexpected moment of tenderness amidst the chaos, a silent reassurance that you weren't alone.

"Jeongin, everyone's going to see," you whispered anxiously, your voice shaking with fear. The overwhelming noise of the club seemed to amplify your vulnerability.

Jeongin continued to hold you close, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. "Shh, we're okay," he whispered softly, his words a gentle lullaby to your escalating anxiety. Without breaking the embrace, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. "You said you two kissed?" Jeongin questioned.

"He kissed me," you corrected, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin's expression tightened with controlled anger, but before he could say anything, you felt his gentle touch on your face. His thumb brushed away a stray tear, and his eyes locked onto yours. "Where?" he asked, his tone soft but demanding answers.

"On the lips," you replied, your voice trembling. You could see the anger flicker in Jeongin's eyes, but there was something else too—something tender.

Without saying a word, Jeongin leaned in, his hands resting on your waist. As Jeongin's lips met yours, the fear and anxiety began to melt away. It was a kiss that held reassurance, a silent promise that you were fully his.

As the kiss lingered, you couldn't help but marvel at the fact that Jeongin was openly expressing affection in public, something he had never done before. It struck you that he was okay with showing you off to other people at that moment.

However, as Jeongin pulled away, you sensed a sudden shift in the atmosphere. He avoided eye contact, his gaze fixed on some distant point. A knot of worry formed in your stomach. It felt as if he were already regretting it.

"Jeongin, look at me," you urged, your voice filled with concern. But he continued to avoid your gaze, and the worry intensified. "Jeongin," you repeated, trying to catch his eye, but he remained unresponsive.

In a moment of desperation, you gently lifted his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes. What you saw took you aback – tears glistened in Jeongin's eyes. This sight, combined with his refusal to make eye contact, sent a surge of anxiety through you.

"Jeongin, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice trembling. Without hesitation, you reached up to wipe away the tears that trailed down his cheeks. He didn't resist, but his silence and tears spoke volumes.

His emotions seemed overwhelming, and you knew Jeongin was not one to cry in front of so many people. It left you deeply concerned. Looking around, you noticed the crowded nature of the club and realized it wasn't the right place for such a vulnerable moment.

You stood up, gesturing for Jeongin to follow you to a quieter area. The unspoken understanding passed between you as he rose, and you both navigated through the pulsating crowd to find a more secluded spot where you could unravel the emotions that had surfaced.

Finding a small corner away from the pulsating beats and prying eyes, you gestured for Jeongin to sit with you. As you both settled into a more private space, you could feel the weight of the unspoken emotions hanging in the air.

"Jeongin, please tell me what's going on," you pleaded, your worry etched across your face.

He took a deep breath, his shoulders trembling slightly, and finally met your gaze. The pain in his eyes struck you, and you realized that whatever had triggered this emotional response went beyond the events of the night.

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. "I didn't mean to... I just..." He struggled to find the right words.

Concern deepening, you gently cupped his face, wiping away the remnants of tears. "Jeongin, you can tell me anything."

Jeongin took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and pain. "Y/N, I thought keeping our relationship a secret would protect you from any trouble. But I see now that it only did you worse."

As he spoke, his voice carried the weight of realization, and you listened attentively, still holding his face in your hands.

"The reason you got harassed tonight was all because of me," Jeongin continued, his words laced with self-blame. "I was too afraid to let people know about us, and it got you stuck in situations like this."

Your heart ached for Jeongin's internal struggle, but you could also sense the sincerity in his words. "Jeongin, it's not your fault. I'll never blame you for what happened tonight. Those people were out of line, and it had nothing to do with us keeping our relationship private."

He nodded, appreciating your understanding but still burdened by guilt. "I should have let you tell your friends about us. Then, they would've never tried to set you up with guys like that."

You took a deep breath, your thumb gently caressing his cheek. "Jeongin, it's not your fault. What happened tonight, it could have easily happened anytime. It has nothing to do with you."

Jeongin's shoulders slumped, the weight of his guilt evident in his posture. "I just… I didn't know how to be a good boyfriend. I was scared, so I just broke it off like that." he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart broke at his words, and you reached out to take his hand in yours, offering what little comfort you could. "Jeongin, you are a good boyfriend," you reassured him, your voice firm with conviction. "You were always there for me. When you were keeping our relationship private, your heart was in the right place since you just wanted to protect me."

He shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes once again. "But it hurt you to have to deal with that," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, "It did at times," you admitted softly. "But what hurt the most was when you broke up with me, Jeongin. I didn't want us to end like that."

Jeongin's gaze softened, his heart aching at the pain he had caused you. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I didn't know how to handle everything, and I thought it was for the best." He paused for a moment, "Can we just forget it all happened?"

You looked at Jeongin, "What do you mean?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggled to find the right words. "I hate the thought of us breaking up. I hate that word. I don't even want to call it a breakup," he admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I just... I want to call it... our time to learn from each other."

"Does this mean you want us to get back together?" you asked, your voice laced with cautious optimism.

Jeongin nodded, his eyes meeting yours. "Yes, Y/N," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "I want us to give our relationship another chance. But I don't want us to dwell on this past week like it was some tragedy. I want us to focus on moving forward together, stronger and more committed than ever before."

You smiled softly at Jeongin's words, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I want that too, Jeongin," you admitted, your voice filled with sincerity.

"I wanna show you off." He admitted.

"We can take it slow." you reassured.

"No, really," he confirmed, his tone serious. "In fact, if it weren't for running into Yuna earlier and her knowing you as girlfriend, I might never have found you this easily."

Your eyes widened in surprise at his revelation, a soft laugh escaping your lips. "Yuna knew me?" you exclaimed, unable to hide your astonishment.

Jeongin nodded, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, she did," he confirmed, his eyes shining with amusement. "And thanks to her, I was able to find you and have this conversation with you."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Jeongin's admission, finding his reaction endearing. "Well, I guess we owe Yuna a thank you then," you remarked, a playful glint in your eyes.

Jeongin grinned, nodding in agreement. "Definitely," he replied, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "But you know, I want people to know about you. I want the world to know how much you mean to me."

A soft smile tugged at your lips, touched by his sentiment. "Well, you realize you did kiss me at the bar in front of everyone," you teased gently, a playful glint in your eyes.

Jeongin's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he realized his slip-up. "Oh right," he muttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess I forgot that there were people around us."

You chuckled softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "I guess you must've accidentally shut them out."

A tender smile spread across Jeongin's face, his eyes shining with affection. "Yeah, I was probably to focused," he admitted, his voice filled with warmth. "That's what happens when you're in love."

Your heart swelled with warmth at Jeongin's words, feeling the sincerity behind them. As you smiled, Jeongin's expression softened even more, his gaze lingering on your lips. Without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The world around him seemed to fade away once again as your lips met in a tender kiss.

Wrapping your arms around him, you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Sensing your desire, Jeongin responded eagerly, his arms encircling you as he lifted you effortlessly. You found yourself straddling him, your bodies pressed together as the kiss grew more passionate, more urgent.

He pulled away slightly, his lips lingering dangerously close to yours. In the hushed space between you, he whispered those three words, "I love you," his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you t-", Before you could respond, before you could utter those same words that had been waiting on the tip of your tongue, he silenced you by shoving his tongue into your opened mouth.

You eagerly welcomed him, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. There was an urgency, a hunger in the way he kissed you, as if he couldn't get enough of you, as if he wanted to consume you entirely.

As the two of you were lost in the intensity of your make out sesh, a voice suddenly shattered the passionate haze. "Yang Jeongin!" The voice was loud and unmistakable, causing both of you to pull apart, breathless and startled.

Turning towards the source of the interruption, you were met with the sight of Hyunjin, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in disbelief.

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princessbubblegumsstuff · 5 months ago

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Late nights – y.j.

Requested – fluff 4. ,,Shut up and kiss me"

Genre(s): drabble, fluff, established relationship, idol au

Pairing(s): jeongin x femreader

Warning(s): none

Words: 580

prompt lists (leave requests🩷)

You have been dating Jeongin for almost a year now. It has been amazing, you two fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. He understood you on such a level that no one has ever even neared.

The only problem was his job. You were understanding but not seeing him as much as you’d like was tough. Tough for both of you. It lead to several fights between him and his company, when he begged to take you on tour with them. Fights between him and his members when he came in late because he slept over at your place again.

And the worst were the comebacks. When he had to work much harder, spend even longer hours at the company and the tour was getting closer and closer. Everyone was stressed and anxious and the fights were always more heated.

You were always patient with him, trying your best to comfort him whenever he needed or act like his stress reliever. Jeongin loved you for that. He loved that you never added to his stress even when it was hard on you too. Loved that you encouraged his career and never made him feel bad about leaving you.

So when he came home late one evening, slamming the door behind him loudly, you knew just what to do. He took off his shoes and groaned loudly as he leaned on the wall in the hallway. ,,Baby? Are you okay?” you call for him from the comfort of your warm bed, half asleep before he came in.

Jeongin rushes to you, sitting on the edge of the bed with a tired expression on his face. ,,Hi, baby” he says and gives you a quick small smile. You sit up, enveloping him in your arms as he rests his head on your chest and lets you cradle him. ,,My poor Innie. You’re tired, aren’t you?” you whisper with a pout and he nods softly. ,,Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

You help him undress, standing up and taking off his hoodie and t-shirt before you undo his pants and pull them off and his socks after too. you take off all of his accessories, massaging his fingers shortly after you free them. He gives you another tired smile before he flops down against the pillows, pulling you with him. You yelp and giggle as he holds you against his chest tightly.

,,You should shower, baby. I can draw you a bath if you’d like. And I cooked some dinner before, I should go heat it up for you. You must be hungry. Does your back hurt again? I bought the cream that helped you and I can give you a massage. Or I can-” he cuts you off by slamming his lips against yours as he cups your face with his big hand. You pull away, looking up at him in confusion and he whines.

,,Shut up and kiss me.” he sighs, a little sparkles in his eyes. ,,I love you, baby. I love how you want to take care of me, but for now just shut up and kiss me, please.” he whispers and you melt in his hold.

,,Okay” you say before you kiss him again, your lips falling together as if that’s where they should’ve always been. As if they meant nothing when they were apart. Being in his arms felt as if that’s where you were always supposed to be…

#fanfic #skz #stray kids #skz fanfic #skz fluff #stray kids fanfic #yang jeongin #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin x y/n #jeongin x y/n #jeongin x you #jeongin x reader #jeongin #stray kids fluff #fluff #comfort #established relationship #idol au

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charlieg1rl · 2 months ago

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⤜ ˚. ✦ ⸝⸝ ֙⋆ 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬 ᳝ › 𓈒 ୨.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲)

𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐨𝐭𝟖 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐬: 𝟑

⤜ ˚. ✦ ⸝⸝ ֙⋆ 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

⤜ ˚. ✦ ⸝⸝ ֙⋆ 𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

tags: @estella-novella, @omgsecretsecret, @amarecerasus

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nerdyjournals · 8 months ago

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A or B?

Pardon the face lift

I had to start using a new app

Bang Chan & Lee Know

Changbin & Hyunjin

Han & Felix

Seungmin & I.N

Bonus: Hannah

Tag List: @jazziwritesthings @krisstheidiot @alnex05 @spookzyclown @snowyquokka @candypop1504 @lucifers-silhouette @scarlet789 @tinyelfperson @euphoricaspen @skzhoes @rylea08 @missmadjastark @michelle4eve @wolfyychan @aelin-sardothien

(if your name is in blue, i cannot tag you for some reason. Please dm me with an alternate name if possible.)

join the tag list

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minminbunny · 3 months ago

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Stalker X Stalker AU - Posessive Coworker! Yang Jeongin/Naive Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Innie!" you giggled, wrapping your arms around him. Jeongin gave you a nonchalant pat on the back, even though his heart was racing within his chest. You beamed, "Guess what? I made candy over the weekend, would you like some?" you asked, biting your bottom lip. Jeongin nodded, "Sure," he said, internally waiting until you got to him when he saw you give out candy bags to the others.

"Yay, here!" you said, giving him a full bag than the tiny packets you were giving out. Jeongin didn't realise the difference when he took it, the packaging was the same, sure it was a bit full but the others must have gotten the same. You gave him a big squeeze, "I'll head back to work. See you later," you beamed, skipping away from him with a contagious smile.

Jeongin sighed, holding his chest, "Fuck, what am I going to do with them," he grumbled, hiding his face within his cubicle. You swayed your feet, drawing pretty hearts around his picture. You looked to your cubicle neighbor, "Hey, do you think Innie will ever like me?" you asked, hoping for support. "Well, he's the type to hate everyone. You might need to try a different approach," they said, ruffling your hair.

You sulked, nodding your head, "You're right I'll think of something," you said, drawing out a little plan. Jeongin felt his eyes twitch when the coworker ruffled your hair, the pen broke in his hand as he tried not to lash out. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, 'One day, I'll secure a damn collar around your neck' he thought, imagining his name etched on your pendent before he walked away.

You gulped, standing in front of a old tarot shop, "Hello?" you asked, walking in. An old lady sat with her crystal ball, "Hello, deary. I heard you're looking for a love potion," she said, rubbing the crystal ball. You gasped, "How did you know?" you asked, naive enough to believe in such fabbles.

The old lady chuckled, "I see and know all, darling. Now, this is the potion you seek. You must be the first one he sees after drinking it. Don't use more than half, or else he might turn into a feral beast," she warned, knowing the viagra content in the vial is quite high. You nodded your head, "No more than half, understood," you said, waiting for the price.

The old lady smirked, "A vial like this is priceless, I'll charge you a discounted price," she said, giving you the number. You sulked when it was half your paycheck but for Jeongin you'd do anything, "Thank you," you said, leaving the shop. Jeongin stood behind the old lady, "Quite the scam you've built here," he said, twirling his knife. The old lady froze, "Wouldn't you like you future read, young man?" she asked, trying to avoid her fate.

Jeongin pursed his lips, "No, I can't let people like you take advantage of my little doll," he said, holding the knife across the old lady's throat. "Wait, wouldn't you like to know what they purchased?" she asked, hoping that would stall him. Jeongin tilted his head, "I could care less. They can buy whatever they want. I'm a gentleman to their purchase privacy," he said, slitting the old lady's throat before she could defend herself.

Jeongin took your money and reported the crime anonymously to the police, he burned his clothes and vacuumed the floor. He then burned the contents of the vacuum and fled the scene. Jeongin sighed and slid your paycheck into your mailbox, "Seriously, a leash is needed," he grumbled, glaring at your room window.

You wore your prettiest outfit, and held your basket of cookies. After making all the normal cookies, you began to bake Jeongin's batch, you did as told pouring half when you suddenly flinched at a loud crackle of thunder. "Shit," you whispered, seeing the empty vial in your hand. You looked outside and saw no rain, "Stupid thunder," you whined, staring at the pink glittery liquid in the middle of your dry ingredients.

You sighed before smirking, "I wouldn't mind seeing Innie as a feral beast. Maybe he'd turn into a werewolf and a have a big girthy cock," you giggled, stirring the ingredients together. You bit your bottom lip, hiding the special stash within your pocket while you looked for him. Jeongin sat by his cubicle, hoping that the money he placed in your mailbox didn't get stolen.

You beamed when you saw him, "Innie, Innie. I made cookies, want some?" you asked, handing him his special batch. Jeongin gave you a subtle smile, and opened the bag, "Thank you," he said, taking a bite. The cookies were soft with a crunchy edge. Jeongin tasted a hint of chemicals but brushed it aside, thinking it's probably the glitter you used, "It's really good," he praised, biting into another cookie.

You smiled, your eyes turned into crescents from smiling so hard, "Thank you, Innie," you said, waiting for the potion to kick in. You gulped, needing to be the first one that Jeongin sees. Jeongin furrowed his eyebrows, feeling his control slipping, "What?" he whispered, looking into your eyes for answers. "Is the love potion working?" you asked, seeing Jeongin hold his chest.

Jeongin panted, feeling his cock throb under his slack, "Love potion?" he asked, groaning from the sheer sensitivity his body was in. You gulped, looking at him with a guilt and scared expression. Jeongin clenched his jaw, "Don't look at me like that; like you're afraid of me," he growled, gripping your wrist. You sniffled, tears ruining your mascara, "Are you mad?" you asked, hiccuping under his feral gaze.

Jeongin buried his face into your tummy, "Everyone else left for lunch right?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. You nodded your head, guilt filling you up, "Today's the one hour break," you sniffled, lips wobbling at the thought of upsetting Jeongin. "Good, good. One hour should be enough," he groaned, lifting you up.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"Too fast!" You sobbed, clawing the desk for any form of leverage. Jeongin groaned, pounding your little cunt with a brutal pace. His hands bruising your precious skin as he fucked you in the meeting room. Your body laid pliant, taking as much as his rough thrusts as possible. He already came twice and he was still hot and throbbing within your cunt. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you hiccuped, covering your mouth to muffle your moans.

Jeongin clenched his jaw and held your throat, "Let me hear you cry, darling. I wanted to take it slow with you but just had to be So. Fucking. Naive," he growled, thrusting harder with every word he grits. You sobbed under his thrusts, you cunt spasming from the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Jeongin pushed his hair back and rolled his hips, "Look at you, doll. So messy, so dirty with cum," he chuckled, eyeing your makeup stained face and semen stained outfit.

You sniffled, clenching around his cock, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whimpered, wiping your tears. Jeongin kissed your palm, "You just couldn't help yourself, doll. You're so easy to influence," he grunted, thrusting his hips. You stared at him through your tears brimmed eyes, "Just wanted Innie to love me," you sobbed, heart squeezing at the confession.

Jeongin held you close, his hips keeping their relentless pace, "Darling, I loved you from the beginning. Never once have I not love you," he rasped, nipping your ear. You sniffled, "Really?" you asked, pushing back with his thrusts. Jeongin chuckled, nosing your cheek, "Really, really," he said, kissing you softly. Your mind melted, his kisses contradicting his desperate thrusts.

You arched your back, chest pressing against his as you creamed around his shaft. Jeongin hissed at the searing warmth coating his cock and came deep within your body. You gave him a few soft pecks, "Hehe," you giggled, nuzzling his shoulder. Jeongin raised an eyebrow, "What are you giggling for?" he asked, kissing your forehead. You hugged him close, "I'm just happy you're mine," you whispered, catching your breath. Jeongin chuckled, "Me too, doll. Now let's clean up as fast as we can before they come back from break, hm?" he said, kissing your nose.

AMAB

"Too fast!" You sobbed, clawing the desk for any form of leverage. Jeongin groaned, pounding your little rim with a brutal pace. His hands bruising your precious skin as he fucked you in the meeting room. Your body laid pliant, taking as much as his rough thrusts as possible. He already came twice and he was still hot and throbbing within your hole. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you hiccuped, covering your mouth to muffle your moans.

Jeongin clenched his jaw and held your throat, "Let me hear you cry, darling. I wanted to take it slow with you but just had to be So. Fucking. Naive," he growled, thrusting harder with every word he grits. You sobbed under his thrusts, you hole spasming from the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Jeongin pushed his hair back and rolled his hips, "Look at you, doll. So messy, so dirty with cum," he chuckled, eyeing your makeup stained face and semen stained outfit.

You arched your back, chest pressing against his as you creamed between your torsos’. Jeongin hissed at the searing grip engulfing his cock and came deep within your body. You gave him a few soft pecks, "Hehe," you giggled, nuzzling his shoulder. Jeongin raised an eyebrow, "What are you giggling for?" he asked, kissing your forehead. You hugged him close, "I'm just happy you're mine," you whispered, catching your breath. Jeongin chuckled, "Me too, doll. Now let's clean up as fast as we can before they come back from break, hm?" he said, kissing your nose.

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hrtsmika · 6 months ago

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𝑰.𝑵. 𝒃𝒐𝒚𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

Yang Jeongin x fem!reader

• Fit checks | He would send you fit checks every day. He's just such a fashion icon. He feels so happy every time you praise and compliment his outfits.

• Phone wallpaper | His wallpaper will most definitely be you. A picture of you sleeping or just doing something cute. He would never change it unless it's another pic of you. The other boys will probably tease him about it.

• Helping him | Your boyfriend can be a little clueless most of the time. Luckily he has you. Even if it's something little, you would love to help him.

• Cooking | He loves it when you cook for him as you are a very busy person yourself. He knows that so he really appreciates it and always tries to help you. Jeongin can clearly see how much love you put into it.

• Pet names | He isn't the type of person to use pet names, but occasionally he will. Jeongin probably has a nickname for you that no one else uses.

• Habits | As you continue to grow closer and closer, he starts to pick some of your habits without even noticing. When you finally point it out your boyfriend will get shy about it and won't admit it.

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091400 · 5 months ago

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UPGRADE.

PAIRING: yang jeongin x fem!reader (ft han jisung)

CONTAINS: power play (?), face riding, masturbation, biting, lowkey sub/dom dynamics, voyeurism, exhibitionism, perv!jisung, switch!afab!reader, switch!jeongin.

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHORS NOTE: this is originally an old work of mine! i fixed a lot of mistakes because i wrote it two years ago 😭. i wrote this as a self birthday present for my 21 birthday and it’s based on a dream i had ;) went exactly like this and holy shit reading it back made me FEEL things.. so yeah! please enjoy and let me know what you think!

A screaming match in the kitchen woke you up.

You sighed as you put on a shirt that wasn’t yours and went to see what was happening outside your very comfortable room. It was very common for you and your roommates to share clothes, after all, you washed them together and sometimes they got mixed up, so it wasn’t a problem at all to use someone else’s clothes.

The Han Jisung vs Yang Jeongin live-action was happening right in the middle of your kitchen.

Your classmate Kim Seungmin, who was also majoring in Photography like you, subtly mentioned that two of his close friends were looking for a place to live, so after some interrogation on your part, you found Jeongin and Jisung to be a good fit for the place you called home.

And here they were, a whole year later, fighting for their lives in the middle of the kitchen. Jeongin was holding Jisung’s arm against his back in some sort of wrestling position, the older struggling against the kitchen counter with Jeongin laughing as he held him effortlessly.

“When are you going to behave, Hyung?” Jisung groaned, getting more and more frustrated with every passing second. You watched it all from the door, snickering.

“Why are you bullying your hyung, Innie?” Both of them snapped their heads toward your voice, watching you lean against the door with a grin.

Jisung didn't waste a second, instantly freeing himself from Jeongin’s grasp when he was distracted by your presence, hopping away from him with a fighting stance. “Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“Then don’t steal my food when I have repeatedly asked you if you wanted some and you said no three times.” Jisung raised his eyebrows in annoyance, and then he turned his head towards you like he was expecting you to say something.

“What are you looking at, Jisungie? He was very clear.” Jeongin winked at you as he grabbed his food, and quickly disappeared into his room without saying anything else, brushing his arm with yours as he walked past you.

Jisung scoffed, begrudgingly starting to make some breakfast for himself after the whole tragedy he had just suffered. You walked to the refrigerator and got yourself some cereal and milk, watching how the man was fuming while making himself a sandwich.

“Stop frowning, you look ugly.” That was a lie.

His eye twitched at your words, “Shut up, you didn’t say anything to defend my honor.”

You scoffed at him, eating your cereal unbothered. “It was none of my business, chill out.” He rolled his eyes and took a seat in front of you on the kitchen table.

Both of you ate in silence for a few minutes, occasionally glancing over to watch the other, until you broke the silence.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something with me in my room?” Jisung choked on his sandwich, making you laugh, “Are you okay?”

“No thanks, I have other important things to do now.” He looked away, and your jaw dropped for a few seconds, then you quickly regained composure. Was he still mad about you not defending his honor?

“Sure, don't worry about it.” You stood up from the table looking at him one last time, leaving your plate in the kitchen sink. “Have fun then, I’ll ask Innie.”

Smirking on your way to Jeongin’s room your thoughts drifted to Jisung, he never rejected the chance to spend time with you, even to the point of canceling his own plans to hang out, you shrugged it off and knocked on Jeongin’s door.

“Come in.”

You opened the door to see him sitting with his legs crossed, still eating his food and watching some anime on his laptop. “Hi.”

He nodded at you, cheeks full of food, he paused the anime and put the bowl of food on his nightstand. “Hey, what’s up?”

Jeongin was wearing an oversized graphic tee, with a pair of shorts that left almost nothing to the imagination, his marked thighs from working out daily fighting against the fabric, showing off more because of the way he was seated on his bed.

“Hannie rejected my invitation to watch a movie, y'know, I have an actual TV.” You grinned wiggling your eyebrows, you were set on watching a movie with someone, it didn’t matter if it was Jisung or Jeongin.

“Is this an invitation to fuck?”

Huh?

You smirked, “I mean if we are in the middle of the movie and you get hard I’ll think about it.” Jeongin chuckled.

“That depends on the movie.” He raised his eyebrows with a playful smile.

“You think we are watching Fifty Shades or what?”

He shook his head as he stood up, getting closer to you. You noticed his wet hair and his bangs sticking to his forehead, he had showered before the breakfast incident probably. He smelled good, and he was looking extraordinarily handsome today.

“Well, are we going or not?”

You rolled your eyes as you followed him to your room. He quickly got himself comfortable on your bed and took the lead to pick the movie, you went to see if Jisung was still in the kitchen, but he wasn’t there, so on your way back to the room you clashed with him who was just leaving the bathroom.

“Ouch, sorry,” You glared at him, he looked at you weirdly and peeked at your open door, seeing Jeongin getting comfortable on your bed, covering himself with your blankets. “Oh… you went to him instead?”

You scoffed, getting annoyed, “Of course, I want to watch a movie, weren’t you busy?”

Jisung looked away, “Yes, sorry.”

“Then see you later, hm.” You entered your room and closed the door on him, leaving him speechless.

Jeongin looked amused by the whole situation, “I’m still winning after all.”

“Don’t.”

You jumped on the bed and took your spot beside him, who was looking very cozy with your blankets covering him. Jeongin had already put a movie on, it was a horror movie and you were happy.

“We’ll watch the movie adaptation of the book It by Stephen King,” Jeongin murmured, getting comfier and putting his head on your shoulder. You nodded and rested your head against his soft hair.

You could count with two hands the actual time the both of you watched the movie. The protagonist’s little brother was about to die to the ugly ass clown hiding in the sewer when Jeongin’s hand grazed your thigh, at first you shrugged it off but the second time you felt his fingers against your skin, you knew it wasn’t an accident.

“Are you truly getting horny with this scene?” You chucked, caressing Jeongin’s hair with your hand.

He grabbed your thigh and stroked it gently with his long and slender fingers. “To be honest, you’re not wearing pants.”

“I’m wearing underwear and a shirt, that’s how I sleep, that’s not an excuse.”

“You literally invited me here to fuck?” Your jaw dropped.

“I did not,” You pushed his head off your shoulder making him frown at you. “Bro, I just wanted to see a movie in peace but you horny gremlin and the other angry gremlin cannot do this to me.”

Jeongin smirked, quickly pausing the movie and looking back at you as he sat on your lap, trapping you between his thighs. “What are you-” He took off his shirt and looked down at you, a lazy grin plastered on his face.

“What the fuck Yang Jeongin.”

“At least are you thinking about it?” Of course you were thinking about it, he was literally shirtless in front of you, his toned chest from working out and his biceps at your mercy.

You traced your hand around his chest, playing with his nipples as he shivered, his grin faltering at your touch. He wrapped his arms around your neck as you played with his chest, scratching his pecs with your nails.

“You’re so thinking about it.”

You nodded, tilting your head to the side and watching him stare at your lips, his chest slowly expanding with each breath he took and licking his lips more times than he could count. You pouted, your doe eyes working hard and fast on him.

“So are you going to kiss me or not?” He grinned as he leaned on capturing your lips in a kiss. He was good, slowly sucking on your lower lip making it a hundred percent hotter than it should be.

Still sitting in your lap with his arms around your head, holding you up to keep you in place, kissing him. His hips started working against your lower belly, the bulge on his shorts growing hard with each thrust. “Oh?” He giggled like he got caught doing something bad.

“Was this your plan all along?” You asked, after a long kiss. Jeongin was breathless, so he just nodded sharply.

He was kissing you again, one hand caressing your cheek and the other holding your head. His tongue made expert movements inside your mouth, wanting more and more from you.

Your hands were still on his chest, making him tremble against you every time your hands caressed his torso. You could feel his already hard cock against your belly, taking the initiative, your hand wandered down to his shorts making him jump slightly, he smiled against your mouth when he realized what you were doing.

“Take them off?” He rolled his eyes as he struggled with letting your lips go.

He got up from your lap, quickly taking all of his remaining clothes off and smirking when your eyes went down to stare at his hard leaking cock shining with precum on the tip, he made a mocking sound.

“I mean, it’s a pretty dick, why are you laughing?” You clapped back, he shook his head as he got closer to you, kissing you deeply leaving no room between the both of you as he got on your lap again.

You wasted no time getting your hands and mouth on him, watching him gasp at the feeling of your hand wrapping around cock and the other playing gently with his ballsack. Your mouth attacking his neck while leaving crimson marks, the sounds he made encouraging you to continue, his hands traveled to your hair, pulling it as you jerked him off.

Between the sweet sounds of Jeongin’s moans on top of you, grinding his hips against your hand to gain more friction, you heard some shuffling on your door, it was now a little bit open but you didn’t pay it any attention, your lock was broken anyways.

Jeongin’s breath got erratic and your head snapped in his direction, feeling yourself getting wetter just by his looks, sweaty hair, and gaping mouth. “I’m going to-” He gasped, closing his eyes shut, his whole body shaking on top of you. He came hard in your hand, with a few last pumps he began to whine result of the overstimulation.

He moved himself to the side so you could step out of the bed and get yourself cleaned, you had fluids all over your arm and hand, and some on your shirt too.

But before you could go too far he spoke again.

“Come back here,” He muttered darkly, “You’re going to sit on my face.” As you were wiping your arm with a wet cloth Jeongin made himself comfortable again on your bed.

“Is that so?” He nodded sharply, sticking his tongue out teasingly.

You teased him back, slowly removing your underwear that was soaking wet after the exchange, and throwing it near the door. Jeongin licked his lips as you walked closer to him until you were towering over him only wearing your shirt.

“C’mon, sit.” He didn’t had to ask you twice, you got yourself on top of his head, getting yourself comfortable on the bed and with his head between your thighs. The moment you lowered yourself into his mouth he did a long lick on your folds, taking it all in.

You moaned loudly, damn he was good.

He traced his tongue all around your folds, alternating between your core and clit, making you jump when he pressed his tongue in the spot you liked so much. Your hand flew to his hair, pulling it hard to make him keep doing what he was doing perfectly fine under you.

Jeongin puffed air on your folds as he separated his mouth from your core, you exhaled shakily as you looked down to see him smirking at you. “You look so pretty on top of me,” He murmured, eyes glazed as you rolled your eyes.

“That’s why you stopped?” He quickly grabbed your thighs to pull you down on him, sucking harshly on your clit with a mission on his mind.

Jeongin was good with his mouth, in every way that could sound. He was an excellent singer, the best student in his university debate club, and of course, a god giving head.

Your hands on his hair, keeping him in place to continue his kitten licks on your cunt. Jeongin didn’t fight you and accepted it happily. His hands were gripping your thighs to keep you in place on his face, after a few seconds he started to move you the best he could to make you ride his face, and you were happy to comply with it.

The sounds coming out of your mouth were music to Jeongin’s ears, he speeded up his movements on your clit making you whine, riding his face harder. He was grateful if his death was between your legs, giving you head.

With a few last movements on your part, you came on his face with a loud whine, your legs quivering as he held you up in place to keep you from falling, licking all of the fluids that came from you gladly. When he finished, he slowly removed himself from under your body while you were still recuperating from the orgasm now laying on the bed.

“Round two?” He proposed from the other side of the bed, you exhaled deeply, preparing yourself mentally as you nodded.

“Get yourself hard, my hand is sore.” You joked, totally willing to suck him off and then fuck.

“Don’t worry, I’m ready if you are.” With a confused look you glanced at his cock, happily discovering he was rock hard, probably from eating you out.

Okay, that was hot.

“Do you have condoms here? or should I go to my room for one?” He teased you with a wink, and you suppressed a laugh.

“Maybe you should ask your hyung for one, hm?” He looked at you incredulously, you snickered and pointed to your bedside table.

Jeongin got to work, and quickly got the condom from your drawer looking at you funny because you had a LOT of them in your drawer, you shrugged. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, ready to wreck you. You were still wearing just the shirt, you got ready on the bed as Jeongin jumped on you, accommodating himself between your legs with the condom on, as he should.

He took his time teasing the head of his cock between your slick folds, grinning devilishly every time you complained, he played like that for at least a minute, between kissing you and putting just the tip inside of you, taunting.

“Such a big cock and no use for it?” You pouted mockingly, already wanting to get fucked dumb and stop being teased.

“Shut the fuck up.” It wasn’t just the tip now, it was the full package inside you.

“Shit, that’s it.” You whined.

He grinned as he pistoned his hips hard and fast, his hands went directly to hold your waist and the other to keep himself steady against the bed frame. It was impressive how he fucked you swiftly without losing balance, your cries made him go vigorously faster, it was like you were cheering him on to make you come again.

"Fuck, I’m close,” He panted, going absolutely feral while growling at your sounds and reactions from his cock.

He was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, his face buried in your neck and not putting any of his weight on top of you so you could bounce on his cock freely. Your hand went to your swollen clit and the other to his hair, pulling it hard making him moan, it was obvious that he was into it.

The sound of skin slapping, your cries, and Jeongin’s grunts almost made you not notice the door opening a little, making your head turn that way.

What you didn’t (or you did?) expect, was seeing Jisung jerking off with your soaked panties on the doorframe, the door was a few centimeters open but you could see him clearly as a day touching himself with your underwear standing there, gawking at Jeongin’s cock entering your pussy quickly.

Jisung hadn’t realized that you had caught him looking at you, he was stuck watching Jeongin fuck you. The hand movements on his cock were painfully slow, your panties probably burning his skin as he jerked off with them, his precum drenching your panties more than they were before.

You were in a trance watching how Jisung enjoyed the situation just like you, and how probably he was standing there for a long time before you realized. As his movements were getting faster, his sight flew to your face and you saw how the blood left his face just as fast his hand was pumping his cock.

“Hi, Jisungie,” You said cheerfully as you could while getting fucked. Jeongin raised his head and turned it towards the door while continuing to fuck you, smiling wickedly when he saw the situation his hyung was caught in.

“I told you hyung was a pervert.” Jeongin said groaning, psyching himself up to continue without being interrupted again.

“I-” Jisung stuttered, frozen in site.

You threw your head back, getting yourself back in the mood with Jeongin biting your neck. Ignoring how Jisung tried to explain himself as you enjoyed your second flawless orgasm of the day, your whole body shaking with Jeongin holding you tight seeking his own release.

“Fill me up, please.” At your words he came with a cry, falling on top of you breathless.

Jeongin snuggled into your neck, hugging you with his cock still inside you getting softer with every passing second. You embraced him back ruffling his hair and chuckling.

“You’re wearing hyung’s shirt, you know that right?” Jeongin whispered, caressing your arm softly.

“Tsk, do you think I’m dumb, baby?” You looked back at the door, which was now closed and Jisung nowhere to be seen.

You met Jeongin’s gaze and snickered alongside him.

091400 © do not copy / plagiarize / repost or translate my work on any other platforms.

#091400 #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #yang jeongin x reader #yang jeongin smut #stray kids fanfic #skz imagines #yang jeongin x you #yang jeongin x y/n #yang jeongin x female reader #skz x reader

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estellan0vella · 23 days ago

Text

Hopelessly In Love: Y.J Yang Jeongin x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 15.8K

CW: Jeongin being a flirt, Minsung content, Mentions of sexuality denial, Jeongin being hopeless, Felix, Jisung, Minho and Hyunjin wingmanning from behind the scenes

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist

The walk to the Alpha Phi house feels longer than it should, partly because you’ve been replaying every possible interaction in your head since Seungmin texted you the address. Your white tote bag swings at your side, the word “ugh” printed in bold brown lettering staring back at you as a perfect encapsulation of how out of place you feel. The thought of stepping into a frat house, this frat house, the infamous Alpha Phi, makes your palms sweat and your stomach twist.

But Seungmin’s your best friend. If he can handle living there, you can survive one visit for the sake of finishing your mechanical engineering project. Right?

The house looms large and imposing, its brick facade and dark shutters practically daring anyone who isn’t part of the frat to approach. It’s obnoxiously clean for a frat house, like it’s overcompensating for whatever chaos goes on inside.

You clutch your tote bag a little tighter, adjust your cropped white blouse, and tug at the waistband of your brown cargo trousers as you climb the front steps. Faint laughter and bass-heavy music filter through the thick wooden door. It feels like a warning.

Your hand hovers for a moment before you muster up the courage to knock.

It swings open almost immediately, and you’re greeted by a boy with sharp features and dark hair falling loosely over his forehead. He leans against the doorframe like he’s been practising the pose for years. His smirk is lazy, confident, the kind that makes you immediately wary.

“Oh, look at that,” he says smoothly, his tone dripping with mock delight. “Fate drops a pretty girl right on my doorstep.”

Your brain stutters. “Uh…”

The smirk widens like he’s amused by your discomfort. “Name’s Jeongin. And you are?”

You fidget with the strap of your tote bag. “I’m here for Seungmin.”

“Seungmin?” He tilts his head, feigning confusion. “Didn’t know he liked shy girls. Cute.”

“I’m just here for a project.”

“Oh, so you’re single?” he shoots back, like it’s the most natural follow-up question in the world. His voice is laced with teasing, but his sharp eyes watch you closely, clearly enjoying the way you’re struggling to form a coherent response.

You blink at him, entirely caught off guard. “What? I- I don’t-”

“Jeongin, leave her the fuck alone!” The voice cuts through the tension, and you glance past Jeongin to see a man with cherry-red hair appearing at the base of the stairs. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that clings to his frame, and his arms are crossed in a way that screams both authority and exasperation. “You’re fucking scaring her, man.”

“I wasn’t scaring her,” Jeongin argues, though he steps aside to let you into the house. His voice drops into a mock whisper as you pass. “I was flirting.”

“Whatever the fuck you call that, stop,” the red-haired guy shoots back sharply before turning his attention to you. His gaze softens slightly. “You’re here for Seungmin?”

“Yeah,” you manage, relieved to have someone else to focus on. “We’re working on a project.”

“Of course you are,” Jeongin chimes in from his spot by the door. “What kind of project?”

“Mechanical engineering,” you mutter, trying not to meet his eyes.

Jeongin lets out a low whistle. “Smart and pretty? Fuck, Seungmin really hit the jackpot with this one.”

“Jeongin,” the red-haired guy groans, his tone bordering on murderous. “Shut the fuck up before you scare her into running away. I’m Minho, by the way.” He offers you a brief, almost apologetic smile. “Ignore him. He’s an absolute fucking idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Jeongin protests, grinning like he knows exactly how irritating he is. “I’m charming.”

“You’re a cunt,” Minho fires back, not missing a beat.

Before you can even process that exchange, a new voice cuts through the chaos. “What the fuck is going on down there?” You look up to see Seungmin standing at the top of the stairs, his orange hair sticking up like he’s been running his hands through it. He’s wearing a hoodie that looks two sizes too big and a scowl that looks permanent. “Jeongin, are you harassing my friend?”

“Harassing?” Jeongin repeats, his tone dripping with mock indignation. “I’m just processing the fact that you have a pretty little friend.”

“She’s nice, unlike you fucking hyenas,” Seungmin snaps as he descends the stairs, his arms crossed tight over his chest. “She doesn’t need you drooling all over her.”

“I’m more thinking about swapping spit than drooling,” Jeongin says casually, winking in your direction.

You freeze, your face heating up like someone just turned a spotlight on you. “I- I should probably…”

“Jeongin, shut the fuck up,” Minho barks, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. He grabs Jeongin by the collar of his shirt and yanks him back. “That’s it. I’m telling Chan.”

Jeongin whines like a child being sent to time-out. “What the fuck? Don’t do me like that!”

“Shut it, Innie,” Minho says flatly, dragging him deeper into the house. “You’re a fucking disaster.”

“I’m not a disaster,” Jeongin protests, his voice fading as they disappear around a corner. “I’m just-”

“Fucking insufferable,” Minho finishes for him.

Seungmin groans, pinching the bridge of his nose like this whole ordeal has already shaved years off his life. “I’m so fucking sorry about them. Let’s just go upstairs and get away from those fucking idiots.”

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble, more than ready to escape the chaos. You glance back toward the direction Minho dragged Jeongin and lower your voice. “Are they always like this?”

Seungmin pauses, hesitating for a beat before sighing. “Yes. Yes, they fucking are. But you get used to it.”

You doubt that. A lot.

As soon as you and Seungmin disappear up the stairs, Jeongin leans back with a theatrical groan, scrubbing a hand down his face. He watches the spot where you vanished, his expression a mix of longing and pure drama, before turning to Minho, who’s still standing nearby with his arms crossed and a look of sheer disbelief.

“That right there,” Jeongin announces, jabbing a thumb toward the stairs. “That’s my future fucking wife.”

Minho doesn’t even try to hide his emotions, raising an eyebrow so high it’s practically halfway up his forehead. “The socially anxious bundle of nerves in the brown cargo pants?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeongin says without missing a beat. His voice is firm, his expression dead serious. “Did you see her ass in those cargos? Fucking poetry, Minho. Pure poetry. I’m gonna marry her.”

Minho blinks, slowly tilting his head like he can’t believe the words coming out of Jeongin’s mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ. You’re absolutely fucking hopeless.”

Jeongin shrugs, entirely unbothered by the insult. “Hopelessly in love.”

Minho rolls his eyes so hard you half expect him to sprain something. “Or just hopelessly fucking horny. Seriously, Innie, you’ve got the emotional depth of a fucking spoon.”

Jeongin smirks, leaning against the wall like the cocky little shit he is. “Hey, at least I know what I want.”

Minho snorts. “Oh yeah? What you want is to scare the poor girl so bad she never comes within a hundred fucking miles of you. Because that’s exactly what you’re doing with your smirking, ‘I’m a fuckboy, love me’ bullshit.”

Jeongin frowns, the smirk faltering just a little. “You think I scared her off?”

“Oh, I fucking know you scared her off,” Minho snaps. “She was practically vibrating with anxiety, and there you are, smirking and talking about swapping spit. Jesus. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Jeongin groans, running a hand through his hair as he paces a few steps back and forth. “Okay, okay. Fuck. Fine. What the fuck do I do, then? Help me out here, Minho. You’re supposed to be my hyung.”

Minho crosses his arms tighter, clearly enjoying watching Jeongin squirm. “Oh no, fuckface. This one’s all on you. You wanna fix this shit, you better find someone who knows how to act like a fucking human being.”

Jeongin stops pacing, his face lighting up like he’s just had the most brilliant idea in the history of ideas. “Felix.”

Minho raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re gonna drag Felix into this? The fuck’s he gonna do? Bake her a cake that says ‘I’m sorry for being a fucking creep’?”

“No, dumbass,” Jeongin snaps, already heading toward the kitchen. “Felix is the nicest motherfucker in this house. He’s practically oozing ‘soft boy’ vibes. He’s gonna teach me how to be sweet.”

“Sweet?” Minho repeats, his tone laced with disbelief as he follows Jeongin. “You? Sweet? That’s fucking rich. This I’ve gotta see.”

The kitchen smells faintly of spices, and Felix is at the counter, carefully slicing vegetables with the kind of precision that makes him look like a Michelin-star chef despite the fact that he’s wearing a hoodie that swallows his frame. His blonde hair glints under the overhead light, and his tongue pokes out slightly in concentration as he arranges the slices on a cutting board.

“Felix!” Jeongin bursts into the kitchen like a man on a mission, dragging a stool over and plopping down dramatically. “I need your help. It’s a fucking emergency.”

Felix looks up, his knife pausing mid-slice. He blinks at Jeongin, then at Minho, who leans against the doorway with an amused smirk. “What the fuck did you do this time?”

“Nothing!” Jeongin protests, holding his hands up like he’s being wrongfully accused. “I met my future wife.”

Felix stares at him for a long, silent moment before bursting into laughter. “Oh, this is gonna be fucking good. Go on. What’s the problem?”

“She’s perfect,” Jeongin says, his tone reverent. “She’s smart, shy, sweet, and her ass in those cargo pants…” He trails off, gesturing wildly with both hands. “Breathtaking. Like, life-changing.”

Felix snorts, shaking his head as he resumes chopping. “And let me guess, you scared the absolute shit out of her.”

Jeongin groans, slumping forward to bang his head lightly against the counter. “Minho already fucking bullied me for that.”

“Because he’s not wrong,” Felix says, laughing. “What’d you say to her?”

Jeongin lifts his head, avoiding Felix’s gaze. “I might’ve asked if she was single.”

Felix freezes, the knife hovering mid-air. He stares at Jeongin like he’s trying to figure out if he’s serious. “Dude.”

“What?!” Jeongin exclaims, throwing his hands up defensively. “It’s a valid fucking question!”

“Not when you’ve just met her, you fucking idiot!” Felix says, shaking his head in disbelief.

Jeongin groans again, running both hands through his hair. “Fuck. I’m so fucked, aren’t I?”

Felix sighs, finally setting the knife down and leaning on the counter to face Jeongin directly. “Not necessarily. You just need to stop being, well, you.”

Minho barks out a laugh from the doorway. “Good luck with that.”

“Fuck off, Minho,” Jeongin snaps before turning back to Felix. “Okay, fine. What do I do?”

Felix shrugs, his tone calm and thoughtful. “Be genuine. Girls like that don’t fall for flashy, cocky shit. You’ve gotta show her you’re not just some loudmouth frat bro.”

“Genuine,” Jeongin repeats, frowning like he’s trying to solve a fucking physics equation. “How the fuck do I do that?”

“Start by not commenting on her ass again,” Felix says, deadpan.

Jeongin groans. “But it’s such a-”

“Jeongin,” Felix interrupts, throwing a dish towel at him. “For fuck’s sake, focus. Be sweet. Thoughtful. Maybe even a little vulnerable. Show her you’ve got layers or some shit.”

Jeongin catches the towel, muttering under his breath. “Sweet. Thoughtful. Vulnerable. No ass comments. Got it.”

Felix smirks, already turning back to his vegetables. “Good luck, loverboy. You’re gonna need it.”

Jeongin leans lazily against the counter, arms crossed, a self-satisfied smirk stretched across his face as he surveys Felix and Minho. “You two are now my official romance senseis. Help me bag the sexiest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.”

Felix doesn’t even bother looking up from the stove, where he’s stirring a simmering pot of something that smells obnoxiously good. “Met the girl today and you’re already planning the fucking wedding?”

Jeongin nods, dead serious, like Felix has just complimented his strategic brilliance. “Obviously. Did you see her? Smart, shy, beautiful and those brown cargos?” He lets out a low whistle, shaking his head like he’s in mourning. “Fucking breathtaking.”

Felix finally glances up, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and pity. “Brown cargos, huh? That’s the hill you’re dying on?”

“Dying, getting married, whatever,” Jeongin replies with a dramatic wave of his hand. “Same difference when you’re in love, Felix.”

Minho, perched on a barstool by the counter, nearly chokes on his laugh. “Love? You’re a fucking clown. You’ve known her for what, thirty seconds? And all you did was scare the shit out of her.”

“I didn’t scare her,” Jeongin argues, shooting Minho a glare. “I was—”

“Being a cocky little cunt,” Minho interrupts, his smirk widening. “Which, by the way, she did not look impressed by. You’ve got zero fucking game, Innie.”

Jeongin glares harder, but Felix interrupts by holding out a spoonful of sauce in Minho’s direction. “Here. Taste this. Too spicy? Too bland? It’s for my culinary course.”

Minho leans forward obligingly, taking the spoon into his mouth with the kind of practiced care that makes Jeongin groan in frustration. “What the fuck, guys? My entire love life is on the line, and you’re worried about sauce?”

Minho holds up a finger, ignoring Jeongin entirely as he chews thoughtfully. “Mmm. Pretty good. Needs more garlic, though.”

“More garlic?” Felix echoes, thoughtful, already reaching for the bulb. “Good call.”

“HELLO?” Jeongin’s voice rises to a near shout. “I’m pouring my fucking heart out over here, and you two are acting like fucking Gordon Ramsey and Julia Child!”

Felix chuckles, still focused on his cooking. “Calm your tits, Romeo. You’ll survive another minute.”

Jeongin groans, dragging both hands down his face in frustration. “I can’t believe I’m trusting my future happiness to two fucking culinary nerds.”

Finally, Felix sets the spoon down and turns to Jeongin, wiping his hands on a towel. “Alright, alright. Let’s get serious for a second. First piece of advice? Don't be a cocky shit around her.”

“Yeah,” Minho chimes in, leaning back against the counter. “You looked like you were auditioning for the role of Frat Boy Douchebag #1. That shit’s not gonna fly with someone like her.”

Jeongin narrows his eyes. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Felix says, shooting him a look, “that she’s not the type to fall for your usual bullshit. She’s shy. She’s reserved. You need to ease her in, not bulldoze her with your overconfident dickhead act.”

Jeongin frowns, considering this. “Alright, fine. What the fuck do I do instead?”

Felix leans against the counter, his tone calm but firm. “Be approachable. Genuine. Maybe even a little awkward, it’s endearing if you don’t overdo it.”

“Be awkward?” Jeongin repeats, his face twisting in confusion. “You’re telling me to be awkward on purpose?”

“Yes, dumbass,” Minho says with a smirk. “Girls like her don’t fall for the alpha-male crap. They want someone real. Someone relatable.”

“And don’t fucking comment on her ass again,” Felix adds pointedly. “Compliment her brain, her ideas, her sense of humour, literally anything else.”

Jeongin groans, throwing his head back. “No ass comments? But that’s, like, my signature move.”

“Then retire it,” Minho snaps. “Unless you wanna keep being single.”

Jeongin mutters something under his breath before straightening up, a spark of determination in his eyes. “Alright. What if I take something out of my car engine and ask her to fix it?”

Both Felix and Minho freeze, staring at him like he’s just suggested burning the house down for fun.

“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” Felix asks, his tone dripping with disbelief.

“Think about it,” Jeongin says, his voice picking up momentum like he’s just cracked the Da Vinci Code. “She’s a mechanical engineering major, right? If I pretend my car’s fucked, she’ll feel all smart and capable for fixing it for me. Bonding over machinery and shit. It’s genius.”

Minho groans, burying his face in his hands. “You’re a fucking moron.”

Felix sighs, looking genuinely exhausted. “Jeongin, no. Do not fuck with your car. That’s manipulative as shit.”

“It’s charming,” Jeongin counters, grinning like he’s won the argument. “I’m showing interest in her skills.”

“You’re using her skills to fake your way into her pants,” Minho corrects sharply. “There’s a difference, dumbass.”

Felix nods. “If you wanna impress her, ask about her work. Don’t make her do it for you.”

Jeongin waves them off, already halfway out the kitchen. “Nah, you guys don’t get it. This is gonna fucking work. Thanks for the advice, senseis.”

Felix watches him go, shaking his head. “We didn’t fucking agree to this.”

Minho snorts, grabbing another spoonful of sauce. “Should we stop him?”

Felix shrugs, smirking. “Nah. Let the dumbass burn. It’ll be entertaining as fuck.”

“You’re not wrong,” Minho says, grinning. “This is gonna be a fucking trainwreck.”

The Alpha Phi house looms just as fucking intimidating as the first time you stepped up to it. You fidget with the strap of your light blue tote bag, its shade perfectly matching your cargos and your scuffed Converse. The cream blouse you’re wearing feels just a little too cropped for comfort, you tug at the hem nervously, wishing you’d chosen literally anything else to wear. But here you are.

It’s just another fucking study session. With Seungmin. Not the chaos crew downstairs. Just focus on that.

You knock on the door, half hoping it’ll take forever for someone to answer. Instead, it swings open so quickly that you take a startled step back. And there he is, Jeongin. He leans against the doorframe like he owns the fucking place, dark hair falling carelessly over his forehead, lips curved into that smug smirk you remember all too well.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth but tinged with something that might actually be nerves. “You’re just the person I was hoping to see.”

You blink, thrown off immediately. “Uh, hi?”

“While I’ve got you here,” Jeongin continues, rubbing the back of his neck, “my car’s been acting like shit. Think you could take a look? You know, since you’re the resident engineering genius.”

“Your car?” you echo, your fingers tightening around your tote bag. “I mean, sure, but I thought Seungmin was-”

“He’s upstairs,” Jeongin interrupts quickly, already stepping outside and gesturing toward the driveway. “This’ll only take a minute, I promise. You’re an engineering major, right? This is totally your thing.”

You hesitate, nerves crawling up your spine, but eventually, you nod. “Okay, I guess.”

Jeongin’s grin widens as he leads the way, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The sleek black car parked in the driveway looks immaculate, which makes you immediately suspicious. He pops the hood with a theatrical flourish, stepping back to give you room.

“Yeah, so it just won’t fucking start,” he says, gesturing vaguely at the engine like it’s some unsolvable mystery. “No idea what the fuck’s wrong.”

You lean over the open hood, the faint smell of motor oil and metal hitting you as you scan the engine. It doesn’t take long for you to notice the glaring issue, and your brows furrow as confusion creeps into your voice. “Uh, your spark plug is gone.”

Jeongin leans in closer, peering over your shoulder like he has any clue what he’s looking at. “What? No way. How the fuck does that even happen?”

You glance at him. “Sometimes car thieves pull a spark plug. That way, the owner can’t drive it, and they can come back later to steal the whole thing.”

His jaw drops, eyes wide. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s a thing?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, poking around the engine for good measure. “It’s not super common, but yeah, it happens.”

Jeongin steps back, running a hand through his hair like he’s just learned some devastating truth about the world. “Fuck me. That’s so fucked up.”

You nod absently, fiddling with a loose wire. “I mean, I can fix some of these shitty connections you’ve got going on, but without a replacement spark plug, you’re kind of fucked.”

“Shit,” Jeongin mutters. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, glancing at you from under his lashes. “Hey, while we’re here, I just wanna say something.”

You pause, looking up at him. “What?”

“I wanted to apologize,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. There’s no smirk this time, no cocky bravado. “For last week. I was a fucking idiot.”

You blink, completely caught off guard. “Apologize? For what?”

“For being an obnoxious ass,” Jeongin says bluntly. “I made you uncomfortable, and that’s not fucking okay. I get that. I’m really fucking sorry.”

“Oh,” you say softly, the unexpected sincerity in his tone making you shift awkwardly. “It’s… it’s fine.”

“It’s not fucking fine,” he insists, stepping closer. “I was trying to be funny, but I was just a dick. You didn’t deserve that.”

You hesitate, his unexpected earnestness throwing you for a loop. Finally, you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “I appreciate the apology.”

Jeongin exhales like he’s been holding his breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Good. Because I mean it.”

The moment lingers, awkward but oddly genuine, until you turn back to the engine, desperate to shift the focus. “So, uh, like I said, your wiring’s kind of fucked, but I can fix that. You’ll just need to buy a new spark plug. Call an auto shop, tell them your car’s make and model, and they’ll get you sorted.”

Jeongin perks up slightly, his smirk making a cautious return. “If I buy one, would you help me put it in?”

You hesitate, then sigh. “It’s not hard, but sure. I can do that.”

His grin spreads wider, more relaxed now. “Fuck yeah. You’re the best.”

“Uh-huh,” you mumble, brushing your hands off on your cargos. “Don’t make it a habit.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Jeongin replies smoothly, though the playful glint in his eye suggests otherwise. "Let's go!"

"Now?"

"Yes! Why not?!" Jeongin beams at you and you nod with a resigned shrug.

Jeongin practically skips down the sidewalk beside you, his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, humming some off-key tune like he doesn’t have a single care in the world. He keeps sneaking glances at you, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth every time you adjust the strap of your light blue tote bag or glance nervously at the road ahead.

You grip your tote bag tighter, the bag of matching blue fabric almost a security blanket at this point. Your cargos and scuffed Converse feel comfortable enough, but the cropped cream blouse keeps riding up every time you shift, and it’s fucking impossible not to fidget.

Jeongin, of course, doesn’t notice your growing anxiety. Or if he does, he sure as fuck doesn’t show it.

“So,” he pipes up, still bouncing along like a golden retriever. “This Dewie guy, what’s his deal? He, like, your personal mechanic or some shit?”

You glance at him briefly, debating how much to say. “Something like that,” you mutter, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ll see.”

Jeongin doesn’t push for more details, instead whistling tunelessly as the auto shop comes into view. The weathered sign above the door creaks in the faint breeze, and the smell of motor oil and grease hits you before you even step inside.

Jeongin slows his pace, squinting up at the building like he’s about to walk onto another planet. “Fuck, this place smells like a mechanic’s fever dream.”

“That’s because it is a mechanic’s fever dream,” you reply softly, shooting him a look. “Don’t insult it.”

His lips twitch in amusement. “Noted.”

The bell above the door jingles as you step inside, the sound instantly grounding you. The shop smells exactly the same as it always does—metal, grease, and faintly of shitty coffee that Dewie insists is “just fine.”

Behind the counter, Dewie is flipping through a massive parts catalogue, his greying hair sticking out in all directions like he’s been too busy to care. His work shirt is streaked with grease and old oil stains, a testament to the hours he spends buried under car hoods.

“Hey, Dewie,” you call out, a small but genuine smile tugging at your lips.

Dewie’s head snaps up at your voice, and his lined face splits into a grin. “Hey, kiddo! What brings you in? Don’t tell me you’re tinkering with another piece of shit.”

You shake your head quickly, already feeling your cheeks flush. “Not me. It’s his car.” You gesture toward Jeongin, who stands just inside the doorway like he doesn’t know where to put himself. “He needs a new spark plug.”

Dewie’s sharp gaze shifts to Jeongin, his arms crossing as he leans on the counter. “What happened? Someone jack it?”

Jeongin stammers, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah. That’s what she said, anyway.”

Dewie snorts. “Figures. These fuckers don’t miss a beat these days.” He jerks his chin toward Jeongin. “Make and model?”

“2018 Kia Stinger,” Jeongin replies quickly, trying to sound confident.

Dewie nods once, scrawling something onto a notepad. “Alright, hang tight. I’ll grab one from the back.”

As Dewie disappears through a side door, Jeongin leans down, lowering his voice. “You didn’t mention this guy’s basically your uncle.”

You blink, taken aback. “How’d you figure that?”

Jeongin tilts his head, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. “The way he called you ‘kiddo.’ That’s not just some mechanic shit.”

You hesitate, then shrug, looking down at your sneakers. “He’s not my uncle. But he raised me.”

Jeongin’s smirk fades into something softer, gentler. “Shit. Really?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, shifting awkwardly. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Sounds like a big deal to me,” he replies, his voice unusually sincere. “That’s kinda badass.”

You glance at him, unsure what to say. Before you can come up with a response, Dewie reappears, a spark plug in hand. He slaps it onto the counter with a grin. “Here you go. Should do the trick.”

“Thanks,” Jeongin says, reaching into his pocket. “How much?”

“Twenty bucks,” Dewie replies, his sharp eyes flicking back to you for a moment. “How’s school, kiddo? Still kicking ass?”

You nod. “It’s fine. Just busy.”

“Bullshit,” Dewie says with a knowing chuckle. “You’re probably running circles around all those other nerds.”

You mumble something incoherent, fidgeting with the strap of your tote bag. Jeongin, sensing your discomfort, steps forward and slaps a twenty onto the counter. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”

Dewie hands over the spark plug but doesn’t miss the chance to give Jeongin a critical once-over. “You sure you’re worth her time, kid?”

Your head snaps up. “We’re not- he’s not-”

Jeongin grins, cutting you off smoothly. “Don’t worry, sir. I’m working on it.”

Dewie barks out a laugh, shaking his head. “Good luck with that. She’s a tough one.”

“Tell me about it,” Jeongin says with a wink, tossing the spark plug lightly in the air and catching it.

You groan, hiding your face behind your hand. “Can we just go?”

“Take care, kiddo!” Dewie calls as Jeongin holds the door open for you. “Don’t let this one get on your nerves too much!”

Jeongin laughs as you step outside, the cool air hitting your flushed face. “So he raised you, huh?”

You nod, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah.”

“That’s fucking cool,” he says, his tone softer than usual. He tosses the spark plug again, catching it effortlessly. “He seems like a good guy.”

“He is,” you reply quietly, clutching your tote bag tighter. “He’s done a lot for me.”

Jeongin bumps your shoulder lightly, his grin softer now. “You’re lucky to have him.”

You glance at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Yeah,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I guess I am.”

The two of you fall into a companionable silence as you make your way back to the Alpha Phi house, the spark plug bouncing in Jeongin’s hand and a strange warmth blooming in your chest that you can’t quite shake.

Back at the Alpha Phi house, Jeongin practically bounces toward his car, spark plug clutched in one hand like it’s some kind of golden ticket. The afternoon sun glints off the car’s sleek black hood, making it look like it just rolled off a showroom floor. You trail behind him, your light blue tote bag swinging slightly at your side, the strap gripped tightly in your hand as if it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

Jeongin grins as he pops the hood, gesturing grandly like he’s unveiling some masterpiece. “Alright, genius. Work your magic.”

You roll your eyes lightly, setting your tote bag on the ground and stepping closer to inspect the engine. “It’s not magic. It’s just… basic mechanics.”

Jeongin leans against the side of the car, folding his arms as he watches you, his grin widening. “Basic mechanics to you. Black fucking sorcery to me.”

You bite back a small smile, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingers. Focusing on the engine, you twist the spark plug into place with practised precision, your fingers navigating the intricate components like it’s second nature. “Alright, this part’s easy. Shouldn’t take long.”

Jeongin tilts his head, watching you with open admiration. “Take all the time you need. It’s nice watching a genius do her thing.”

Your cheeks burn at the compliment, but you keep your eyes firmly on the engine. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Bullshit,” Jeongin says with a snort. “You could tell me this thing runs on unicorn jizz, and I’d believe you.”

A soft laugh escapes you before you can stop it, and you quickly cover your mouth with one hand. “Unicorn jizz? Really?”

“Hey, you’re the expert,” Jeongin says, his grin turning shameless. “I’m just along for the ride.”

Shaking your head, you finish securing the spark plug and step back to inspect the rest of the engine. Your brows knit together when you notice something out of place. “Your fuel line is disconnected.”

Jeongin straightens up, his grin faltering slightly. “Shit. Is that bad?”

“It’s not great,” you mutter, leaning in to get a closer look. “What the hell happened here?”

Jeongin scratches the back of his neck, his sheepish expression already giving him away. “Okay, so, that might’ve been me.”

You turn to him, crossing your arms as your lips press into a thin line. “Might’ve been you?”

“Alright, fine. It was me,” he admits, holding up his hands in surrender. “It wouldn’t start yesterday, and I didn’t know about the whole missing spark plug thing yet, so I may have fiddled with it.”

“You fiddled with it,” you repeat, incredulous.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging helplessly. “I thought I could figure it out. Turns out I couldn’t.”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat before you can stop it, and you shake your head, a small smile breaking through. “You’re an idiot.”

“Guilty,” Jeongin replies, his grin returning, though it’s softer now. “Can you fix it?”

“I can fix it,” you reply, already crouching to rummage through your tote bag. You pull out a small, well-loved tool kit that Dewie insisted you carry everywhere. “Just promise me you won’t touch anything under the hood ever again.”

Jeongin presses a hand to his chest, his tone mock-serious. “Scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile that lingers as you reconnect the fuel line with quick, efficient movements. Jeongin watches closely, leaning in just enough to make you nervous, though his expression isn’t teasing this time. There’s something genuine in the way he watches you, like he’s genuinely impressed.

“You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” he says suddenly, his voice soft but firm.

Your hands falter slightly, and you glance up at him, your face already burning. “I- it’s just a fuel line. It’s not-”

“Nope,” he interrupts, holding up a finger. “None of that modest shit. What you’re doing right now? Badass as fuck. Own it.”

You duck your head, letting your hair fall into your face as you mumble, “It’s really not that special.”

Jeongin leans a little closer, his grin softening into something more sincere. “It is to me.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you don’t let yourself dwell on it. Instead, you focus on finishing the repair, your hands moving with quiet confidence. Once you’re done, you step back, brushing your hands off on your cargos.

“There,” you say, closing the hood with a solid click. “That should do it. Try starting it now.”

Jeongin doesn’t hesitate, practically sprinting to the driver’s seat. He slides in, turns the key, and grins as the engine roars to life, smooth and steady. “Holy shit, you actually fixed it.”

You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Did you think I couldn’t?”

“Never doubted you for a second,” Jeongin replies, hopping out of the car with a triumphant laugh. He walks back over to you, his grin wider than ever. “Seriously, how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” you say, bending down to pick up your tote bag. “Just don’t touch your engine again, alright? If something’s wrong, take it to Dewie. Or call me.”

Jeongin perks up at that, his eyebrows raising. “Call you, huh? You offering to be my personal mechanic?”

“Only if you’re desperate,” you mumble, adjusting the strap of your bag. “Don’t make it a habit.”

“Got it,” he says, his tone warm and teasing. “No unnecessary car emergencies. But for real, thank you. You saved my ass.”

You nod quickly, keeping your gaze on the ground. “It’s fine. Really.”

Jeongin watches you for a moment, his usual cocky demeanour replaced by something softer, more thoughtful. “You know,” he says, breaking the silence, “you’re kind of hard to figure out.”

Your brows knit together as you glance up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he says, shrugging. “You’re all quiet and nervous, but then you do shit like this, and it’s like damn. You’re a total badass.”

You fumble for something to say, but Jeongin doesn’t seem to expect a response. Instead, he grins again and jerks his head toward the house.

“C’mon,” he says. “Seungmin’s probably wondering where the fuck you are.”

You nod, trailing after him, your mind spinning with his words and the warmth in his voice. You try to push it away, but it lingers, making it even harder to ignore the way he makes your heart race.

Jeongin bursts into Minho’s room without so much as a knock, throwing the door open so hard it bounces off the wall. Minho jerks upright from where he’s sprawled on his bed, phone clutched in one hand, his brows furrowing in annoyance.

“What the fuck, Jeongin?” Minho snaps, glaring at him. “I was busy!”

“You were doomscrolling,” Jeongin shoots back, marching straight to the bed and grabbing Minho’s wrist. “That’s not busy.”

“Excuse me,” Minho retorts, trying and failing to wrench his arm free. “It’s called research. Ever heard of it, dipshit?”

“Research later,” Jeongin grunts, dragging him out the door with surprising strength. “This is important.”

Minho stumbles into the hallway, still protesting. “You are so lucky I don’t punch people younger and weaker than me. What the fuck is this about?”

“You’ll see,” Jeongin says cryptically, tugging him toward Felix’s room. He doesn’t even knock before barging in, nearly tripping over Felix’s chair in the process.

Felix is sitting cross-legged on his bed, headphones around his neck and a laptop balanced on his knees. He looks up, startled. “What the fuck is going on?”

Jeongin lets go of Minho and drops dramatically onto the floor, spreading his arms like a martyr. “Emergency.”

Felix blinks, closing his laptop and setting it aside. "An actual emergency, or a Jeongin emergency?”

“Both,” Jeongin replies, his grin sharp as he leans back on his hands. “So, yesterday? I executed The Plan. Spoke to her. Met her uncle slash guardian. All because I jacked up my car on purpose, which, by the way, she doesn’t fucking know about.”

Minho groans, dropping into Felix’s chair and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. This is about her? Again?”

Felix raises a brow, intrigued despite himself. “Hold on. Back up. Your dumbass plan actually worked?”

“Fuck yeah, it did,” Jeongin says, his grin turning smug. “She was there, in blue cargos, God, that ass, fixing my car like an angel descended straight from car-heaven.”

“Dickhead,” Minho mutters, glaring at him. “Can you go five fucking seconds without talking about her ass?”

Felix smirks, leaning back against the headboard. “Doubt it. But hey, you talked to her? Like a full conversation?”

“Full fucking conversation,” Jeongin confirms, his chest puffing out. “She didn’t run away. She didn’t tell me to fuck off. Progress, right?”

Felix whistles low, impressed. “Alright, that’s something. What did you talk about?”

“She mostly talked about the car,” Jeongin admits. “But I told her she was amazing. And get this, she told me to call her if I needed help again.”

Minho leans forward, his eyes narrowing. “She actually said that? Or did you hallucinate it in one of your horny delusions?”

“She fucking said it,” Jeongin says, glaring back at him. “I’m not delusional. And now I need to figure out how to make her fall in love with me.”

Felix snorts, covering his face with one hand. “You’ve had one normal interaction and now you’re planning a wedding?”

“Felix,” Jeongin says seriously, sitting up. “This is destiny. Don’t laugh.”

Minho groans, slouching in his chair. “Destiny my ass. You’re obsessed with a girl who probably doesn’t even know how to take a compliment without spontaneously combusting.”

“Exactly!” Jeongin says, pointing at him. “She’s different. She’s shy, soft-spoken, and she’s so fucking smart. I’m not gonna screw this up.”

Felix exhales, his tone shifting to something more patient. “Alright, fine. Let’s workshop this. It's doable.”

Jeongin claps his hands together, grinning. “This is why you’re my favourite.”

“Jesus,” Minho mutters. “You’re lucky Felix has more patience than me.”

Felix sits up straighter, clasping his hands like he’s about to deliver a lecture. “First rule: You cannot go full Jeongin on her.”

Jeongin frowns. “Full Jeongin?”

“Yeah, like your usual loud, cocky bullshit,” Minho chimes in. “She’s not gonna respond to you strutting around like a frat-boy peacock.”

Felix nods. “She’s shy, right? You need to be approachable. Soft. Make her feel comfortable.”

“Comfortable,” Jeongin repeats, his expression serious. “Okay. How?”

“Patience,” Felix says, ticking off his fingers. “Be genuine. Talk to her, but don’t push. Ask about what she’s into. Show her you’re actually interested in her, not just her ass.”

Jeongin sighs dramatically. “Why does everyone keep attacking me over this?”

“Because you talk about her ass constantly,” Minho deadpans. “Compliment her brain, her personality, her work ethic, anything but her fucking cargo pants.”

“I did!” Jeongin protests. “I told her she was amazing while she was fixing my car.”

“Good,” Felix says with a small smile. “Do more of that. Make her feel seen.”

Jeongin fidgets, his confidence faltering slightly. “What if I mess it up? Say the wrong thing?”

“You will,” Minho says flatly, earning a glare from Jeongin. “But if you’re sincere, she’ll forgive you. Probably.”

Felix sighs, shooting Minho a look. “Ignore him. It’s okay to mess up as long as you’re making an effort. She’ll notice.”

Jeongin nods slowly, absorbing the advice. “What about hanging out? Like, casually?”

Felix brightens. “Yes! Somewhere low-pressure. Somewhere she feels comfortable.”

“A study date,” Jeongin says, his eyes lighting up. “That’s fucking genius.”

Felix shakes his head. “Not a date. Not yet. Just hang out. Be chill.”

Jeongin leans back, a determined grin spreading across his face. “Okay. Be patient. Be genuine. Compliment her brain. Hang out somewhere low-pressure. Got it.”

Minho chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “You’re actually taking this seriously, huh?”

“Of course I am,” Jeongin says earnestly. “She’s not like anyone I’ve met before.”

Felix smiles softly. “Then don’t fuck it up, Innie.”

Jeongin grins, his usual cockiness tinged with real hope. “I won’t.”

The college mechanics' garage hums with the faint buzz of overhead fluorescent lights, their sterile glow casting long shadows on the polished concrete floor. The air is thick with the smell of motor oil, grease, and faint traces of burnt rubber. A comforting scent that’s come to feel like home.

You’re crouched over an engine mounted on a heavy metal workbench, black cargos streaked with grime and your cropped black blouse tugging higher every time you reach forward. A red bandana is knotted tightly around your head, though it does little to keep stray hairs from escaping, forcing you to constantly push them back with oil-stained fingers.

The engine looms in front of you, its tangled maze of components taunting you like some sadistic puzzle. Something’s wrong. Something you should be able to figure out, and yet the solution keeps fucking eluding you.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, glaring at the carburettor like it personally offended you. “What the fuck is your problem?”

The sharp squeak of sneakers on the concrete pulls your attention for half a second, but you don’t need to look up to know who it is. Jeongin. Of course. His footsteps are unhurried, confident, and that faint whiff of expensive cologne follows him like a calling card.

“Hey,” Jeongin calls out, his voice smooth but softer than usual, like he’s testing the waters. “Seungmin said you’d be here, working yourself to death over something you can’t let go.”

You glance at him briefly before going back to your work, wiping your hands on a rag tucked into your pocket. “Something in this stupid engine doesn’t work,” you mumble, the frustration clear in your tone. “And I can’t figure it out.”

Jeongin steps closer, his sneakers scuffing slightly against the floor. He stops a few feet away, tilting his head as he studies the scene in front of him: you, bent over the workbench, fingers deftly navigating the guts of the engine, black cargos clinging to your legs, streaks of oil smudged on your skin. He has to force himself to look away before his thoughts go to places he’ll regret voicing.

“Okay,” Jeongin says, clearing his throat and stepping closer. “Use me.”

You straighten up, turning to him with a confused look. “What?”

“Use me,” he repeats, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Explain the engine to me, like I’m five. Sometimes talking it out helps people figure shit out, right?”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. He steps forward, holding out a coffee cup. “Also, I brought you this. Vanilla chai latte. Took a guess, it seemed like your kind of thing.”

Your fingers hesitate before reaching for the cup, the warmth seeping through the cardboard sleeve and into your cold, grease-smeared hands. “Thanks,” you say softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of the garage. The tension in your shoulders eases slightly as you take a sip, the sweet flavour grounding you.

Jeongin grins, leaning his hip against the workbench. “Alright. Walk me through it.”

You sigh, gesturing for him to come closer. “Fine. But you’ll need to actually look at the engine.”

Jeongin steps up beside you, close enough that you catch the faint warmth radiating from him. His cologne mingles with the metallic tang of the garage, creating an oddly intoxicating mix. He leans in as you start pointing to different components, his eyes following the movements of your hands.

“This is the carburettor,” you explain. “It mixes air and fuel for combustion. If it’s clogged or not working right, the engine’s fucked.”

Jeongin nods seriously, though the smirk playing on his lips betrays him. “Air, fuel, kaboom. Got it.”

You huff out a soft laugh despite yourself, glancing at him. “Basically.”

Encouraged by your reaction, Jeongin leans a little closer, his shoulder brushing against yours. “And what’s this thing?” he asks, pointing vaguely at a random cluster of wires.

“That’s the distributor,” you say, nudging his hand away so you can show him properly. “It sends voltage to the spark plugs. If something’s wrong here, the engine misfires.”

Jeongin whistles low, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. “You weren’t kidding when you said this shit’s complicated.”

You shrug, a small, self-conscious smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not that bad once you know what you’re doing.”

“Uh-huh,” Jeongin teases, tilting his head to get a better look. “Says the fucking genius.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to the engine. “I’m not a genius. It’s just practice.”

“Still impressive,” Jeongin says softly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he forces himself to focus. “Alright, what else?”

As you continue explaining, something starts to click in your mind. You step back slightly, your brows furrowing. “Wait a second-”

“What?” Jeongin asks, watching your face light up with realization.

You lean in, carefully pulling at a small, almost hidden wire near the distributor. “This wire isn’t connected properly. It’s part of the ignition system. Without it, the spark plugs won’t fire right.”

Jeongin frowns, squinting at the tiny wire. “That tiny thing? Seriously? That’s the whole problem?”

“It’s not obvious,” you admit, reaching for a screwdriver from your kit. “That’s probably why I missed it the first ten fucking times.”

Jeongin watches as you secure the wire, his tone filled with awe. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

You pause for half a second, your cheeks flushing, but you quickly shake it off and finish tightening the connection. “It’s just an engine,” you mumble, ducking your head.

“It’s not just an engine,” Jeongin insists, his voice firm but warm. “You just solved a fucking mystery like Sherlock Holmes. That’s badass.”

You glance at him briefly, unsure how to respond, and instead focus on brushing your hands off on a rag. “Alright,” you say, stepping back. “That should do it.”

“You’re sure?” Jeongin asks, his eyebrow raised.

“Test it,” you reply, crossing your arms as you nod toward the ignition system.

Jeongin turns to the panel, flipping the switch. The engine rumbles to life, smooth and steady. His eyes widen, and a grin splits across his face as he lets out an excited laugh. “Holy shit, you actually fixed it!”

You nod, your lips twitching into a small smile. “Told you it wasn’t that hard.”

Jeongin shakes his head, his grin full of admiration. “You’re a fucking genius. I don’t care what you say.”

You shrug, the warmth in your chest spreading despite your best efforts to downplay it. “It’s just practice.”

Jeongin watches as you gather your tools, his grin softening. “Thanks for letting me help, even if all I did was stand here and look pretty.”

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “You weren’t that bad.”

Jeongin straightens up, his dark eyes glinting with something unreadable. “So coffee again? Maybe you can teach me more.”

You glance at him, his tone so sincere it catches you off guard. “Maybe,” you murmur, your cheeks warming as you adjust the strap of your tote bag.

Jeongin grins, his confidence returning full force. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Jeongin bursts into the kitchen like a fucking tornado, the door slamming against the wall as his energy ricochets off every surface. Felix is at the stove, carefully arranging what looks like a chaotic cross between a gourmet dish and a culinary science experiment.

Minho sits on a stool nearby, fork poised mid-air as he waits impatiently to dig in. Both of them look up as Jeongin skips in, his grin so wide it practically splits his face in half.

“I fucking did it again!” Jeongin announces, throwing his hands up like he’s just won the lottery.

Felix raises an eyebrow, setting the pan down with a metallic clatter. “Did what again?”

“Worked my charm,” Jeongin says smugly, puffing out his chest like a victorious rooster. “I went to the college workshop, helped her figure out why an engine wasn’t working. You should’ve seen her. She was so fucking focused, explaining all the parts to me like an absolute badass.”

Minho snorts, shoving a forkful of Felix’s food into his mouth. “You know fuck-all about cars.”

“And that’s the beauty of it,” Jeongin says, pointing dramatically at Minho like he’s cracked some great universal truth. “I know jack shit, but I offered moral support. And guess what? It fucking worked.”

Felix sighs, shaking his head as he sets the plate down in front of Minho. “Alright, Romeo, what’s the problem this time?”

Jeongin hops onto the counter, his legs swinging like an overgrown child. “Felix, here’s the thing, I think we’re friends now. Or, like, something close to friends. But!” He leans forward, his voice dropping like he’s about to deliver the plot twist of a lifetime. “I do not want to get friendzoned.”

Felix opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Jisung and Hyunjin stroll into the kitchen. Jisung is mid-rant, his arms waving wildly as Hyunjin trails behind him with an amused smirk plastered on his face.

“…and that’s why vending machines are the fucking devil,” Jisung finishes with a flourish as they step inside.

Hyunjin chuckles. “You’re just mad it ate your dollar.”

“Not the point!” Jisung retorts, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and taking a bite. “What’s going on in here?”

“Innie,” Minho says around a mouthful of food, pointing his fork at Jeongin, “is trying to woo a mechanics girl, but the problem is, she’s shy.”

Jeongin groans, dragging both hands down his face. “Why do you make me sound like a complete fucking moron?”

“Because you are,” Minho deadpans, smirking as he shovels more food into his mouth.

Jeongin waves him off, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Anyway, listen to my great romance that would make Shakespeare weep”

He launches into a play-by-play of his interactions with you, pacing back and forth like he’s narrating some great epic. He describes the spark plug incident in painstaking detail, recounts the engine troubleshooting with theatrical flair, and even mentions the coffee he brought you- “because I’m thoughtful as fuck.”

Hyunjin leans against the counter, arms crossed as he listens with growing amusement. Jisung nods along, occasionally pausing to take another bite of his apple.

“So, basically,” Jeongin concludes, spinning on his heel to face them, “I’m making progress. But I don’t want to get stuck in the friend zone. I need strategies. Plans. Help me.”

Felix smirks, leaning back against the stove. “You’re really in deep, huh?”

“Like Mariana Trench deep,” Jeongin admits, running a hand through his hair, his confidence faltering for a split second. “She’s cool. And smart. And sweet. And she smells like parma violet candy.”

Jisung stops mid-bite, his eyebrows shooting up. “Parma violet? That’s a weirdly specific observation.”

“Not the fucking point!” Jeongin snaps, glaring at him.

Minho finally sets his fork down, resting his chin on his hand as he gives Jeongin his full attention. “Alright, let’s think this through. You’ve already somehow impressed her, don’t ask me how, so what’s next? You need something that keeps you close to her but shows you’re serious. No fuckboy antics.”

Jisung suddenly perks up, his eyes lighting up like a kid with a genius idea. “Oh, I’ve got it!” He tosses his half-eaten apple onto the counter and turns to Jeongin, gesturing wildly. “There’s this old car place on the edge of town. It’s basically a junkyard, but they sell old cars for dirt cheap because they’re considered scrap. What if you take her there, let her pick one out, and the two of you restore it together? Like a team project. Ultimate bonding shit.”

The room falls silent as everyone processes Jisung’s suggestion. Then Jeongin’s face lights up like he’s just been handed the fucking Holy Grail.

“Sungie,” Jeongin says, striding forward and grabbing Jisung by the shoulders, “I could kiss you right now.”

Jisung grins, puckering his lips dramatically. “Go ahead. I’m ready for it.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes but indulges him by pressing a kiss to the palm of his hand, which he then slaps over Jisung’s mouth. “There. That’s all you’re getting.”

Jisung pulls back with an exaggerated pout. “You’re no fun.”

Hyunjin bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “You two are fucking idiots.”

“But the idea’s solid,” Felix says, nodding thoughtfully. “It’s personal, low-pressure, and shows that you’re genuinely interested in her hobbies.”

“And,” Minho adds, his smirk widening, “it keeps you around her without making her feel like you’re trying too hard. Smart move.”

Jeongin grins, practically vibrating with excitement as he pulls out his phone. “This is fucking perfect. I’ll text her right now, see if she’s down.”

Minho points at him, his tone sharp. “Don’t fuck it up, Innie.”

“I won’t,” Jeongin insists, already typing furiously on his phone. “Thanks, guys. You’re the best.”

Jisung smirks, leaning against the counter. “I know.”

Felix rolls his eyes, returning to the stove. “Alright, go plan your little restoration project. Let us know if it works or if it crashes and burns.”

Jeongin looks up briefly, his grin wide and confident. “It’s gonna be amazing. Just watch.”

Hyunjin watches him leave, shaking his head with a chuckle. “He’s gonna make such a fool of himself.”

“Probably,” Minho agrees, stealing another bite of Felix’s food. “But it’ll be entertaining as fuck.”

Jisung laughs, already planning how to take credit for the whole idea if it works. “He’ll owe me for life.”

The familiar bell above the door jingles as Jeongin steps into Dewie’s auto shop, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. The place smells like grease, burnt oil, and metal. The kind of scent that clings to your clothes and hair, the kind of scent that feels oddly welcoming.

Somewhere in the back, the faint clank of a ratchet echoes, blending with the hum of a nearby air compressor. Dewie glances up from the counter, his weathered face splitting into a grin.

“Back again, huh?” Dewie says, setting down the car part he’s been inspecting. His sharp eyes flick toward the garage door behind him. “Kiddo’s in the back, like always. Thought you were just her spark plug guy. What’s the deal, kid?”

Jeongin grins, not missing a beat. “Might’ve upgraded to something more. Thanks, Dewie.”

He makes his way through the cluttered aisles of parts and tools, sneakers squeaking faintly on the polished concrete. When he reaches the back, he pauses for a moment, leaning against the doorframe as he takes in the sight of you.

You’re perched on a stool near a disassembled carburettor, hands streaked with grease as you carefully clean the delicate components. Your cropped white lace camisole looks almost absurdly out of place in the gritty garage, its delicate fabric contrasting sharply with the grime and chaos surrounding you.

Blue mom jeans sit high on your waist, snug but not too tight, cuffed at the ankles over scuffed Converse. A blue bandana ties your hair back, but a few loose strands cling to your cheeks, and Jeongin’s throat tightens at how effortlessly beautiful you look.

“Hey,” he says, trying to keep his voice casual but failing to hide the grin tugging at his lips.

You glance up, startled for half a second before relaxing when you realize it’s him. “Oh. Hi.”

“Busy?” Jeongin asks, nodding toward the carburetor as he takes a few steps closer.

“A little,” you admit, setting the part down and wiping your hands on an already-dirty rag. “Why?”

He pulls a slightly crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it, holding it out to you. “Found this place. Kind of a junkyard, but they sell old, beat-to-shit cars for almost nothing. Thought you might want to check it out.”

You take the paper, your brow furrowing as you scan the address and the details of the auction. Your fingers brush his for the briefest moment, and Jeongin’s heartbeat skips. Despite the grease smudges, your hands are soft, delicate in a way that doesn’t quite match the work he’s seen them do.

“What do you say?” he asks, his voice casual, though his eyes flicker with an unmistakable nervous energy.

Before you can answer, Dewie’s voice booms from the front of the shop. “She says yes! Off you go, kiddo! Take the clueless frat boy with you.”

“Dewie!” you exclaim. “I didn’t say anything yet!”

“No arguments,” Dewie calls back, his tone dripping with mischief. “You’ve been buried in this shop all day. Go out. Have some fun.”

Jeongin laughs, the sound warm and unbothered. “See? Even your uncle’s on my side.”

“He’s not my uncle,” you mutter, turning back around and handing the paper back to him. “Fine. But if this place sucks, you’re buying me dinner.”

“Deal,” Jeongin says instantly, his grin widening as he leads the way out. Dewie waves at the two of you, his smirk lingering as he watches Jeongin hold the door open for you like it’s second nature.

Jeongin’s car smells faintly of his cologne, a rich, woodsy scent that somehow manages not to clash with the faint lingering smell of fast food fries. The radio hums softly in the background, some indie rock song playing low enough to barely register.

You sit in the passenger seat, fidgeting with the strap of your bag, occasionally glancing out the window. Jeongin sneaks a look at you every few moments, but he doesn’t say much, letting the quiet settle comfortably between you.

When he pulls into the junkyard’s lot, your eyes widen slightly at the sheer scale of it. Rusted cars stretch out in long, chaotic rows, each one a monument to decades of neglect. The air smells of old rubber, engine oil, and faintly of wet dirt.

Some of the cars look like they’ve been there for years. Classic Mustangs with shattered windshields, a Cadillac with its hood missing, and even an ancient VW van so rusted it’s practically orange.

Jeongin parks the car, cutting the engine. “So?” he asks, stepping out and leaning casually against his door. “What do you think?”

You follow him out slowly, your gaze sweeping across the endless sea of potential. For a moment, he worries it might be overwhelming, but then he catches it. A flicker of excitement in your eyes. Your lips part slightly as you take it all in, and Jeongin can’t stop himself from smiling.

“This is…” you start, your voice soft, almost reverent. “This is fucking amazing.”

“Really?” Jeongin asks, his relief palpable. “I was half-convinced this was a dumb idea.”

You shake your head, your excitement bubbling over as you walk toward one of the cars. A battered blue Chevrolet Impala with peeling paint and a spiderweb of cracks in its windshield. “It’s not dumb at all. This place is incredible.”

He follows you as you weave between the rows of cars, watching the way your fingers lightly brush against the rusted metal. You pause at a faded red pickup truck, tilting your head as you examine its dented frame. Jeongin notices the way your eyes light up with every new discovery, and it makes his chest feel tight.

“See anything you like?” he asks, his tone teasing but genuine.

You glance at him over your shoulder, a small, soft smile tugging at your lips. “They’re all beautiful in their own way.”

Jeongin leans against the nearest car, crossing his arms as he watches you. “Okay, genius. If you could pick one, which would it be?”

You hesitate, scanning the lot again before pointing toward a sleek but battered 1967 Ford Mustang. Its red paint is faded almost to pink, one of its tyres sits flat, and the chrome bumper is hanging on by sheer force of will. But even in its sorry state, there’s something undeniably regal about it.

“That one,” you say with quiet certainty.

Jeongin whistles low, genuinely impressed. “Damn. A Mustang? Bold choice. So, you wanna take it?”

Your head jerks toward him, startled. “What? No. I couldn’t.”

“Why the fuck not?” Jeongin counters, grinning. “It’s here, it’s cheap, and if anyone can bring it back to life, it’s you.”

You bite your lip, glancing back at the car. “It’s a lot of work.”

Jeongin shrugs. “So what? I’ll help.”

You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “You don’t know shit about cars.”

“True,” Jeongin admits, laughing. “But I can hold tools. And I’m excellent at standing around and looking hot.”

A laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, and Jeongin’s grin widens at the sound. “Fine,” you say, rolling your eyes. “But you’re not allowed to slack off.”

“Deal,” Jeongin says, sticking out his hand. You hesitate, then shake it, your grease-smudged fingers warm and soft against his.

He looks at the Mustang, his grin turning almost boyish. “Alright. Let’s make this beauty yours.”

The next month is a whirlwind of grease, sweat, and late nights spent hunched over the Mustang, and every single day, Jeongin shows up at Dewie’s auto shop with his sleeves rolled up and that goddamn grin plastered on his face.

The rhythm becomes natural. Him peppering you with endless questions about parts, tools, and processes while fumbling with wrenches like a clueless idiot and you, patiently showing him how to work through each repair, trying not to laugh at his complete lack of mechanical instincts. Jeongin is hopeless when it comes to precision, but his enthusiasm is undeniable.

By the time the sun sets, you’re both exhausted, covered in streaks of oil and grime, but there’s always a shared sense of accomplishment. And each night, when Jeongin stumbles back to the Alpha Phi house, he bursts into the kitchen or living room, rambling to his friends about every detail like a kid coming back from his first field trip.

The first week, Jeongin barrels into the kitchen, the faint smell of motor oil clinging to his hoodie. Felix is at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smells halfway decent, while Minho scrolls through his phone at the counter. From the living room, Jisung and Hyunjin’s voices carry through as they bicker over which shitty rom-com to stream.

“It’s happening!” Jeongin yells, throwing his bag onto a chair. “We’re fucking doing it!”

Minho doesn’t even look up. “Doing what, exactly?”

“Restoring the Mustang!” Jeongin says, grinning like an idiot. “We started on the engine today. You should’ve seen her. She’s so fucking smart. She was explaining all this technical shit, and I was just standing there like, ‘what the fuck?’”

“Not surprised,” Felix mutters, barely glancing away from the stove. “You’re an idiot.”

“Fuck off. Anyway, I held the flashlight like a goddamn pro. Didn’t drop it once. She even smiled at me.”

Jisung wanders into the kitchen. “You’re really out here bragging about holding a flashlight, huh?”

“Shut up,” Jeongin says, chucking a dish towel at him. “It’s progress.”

By the second week, Jeongin is full of even more stories. He bursts into Felix’s room one night, interrupting a casual gaming session. Felix is sprawled on the bed next to Minho, controller in hand, while Hyunjin sits on the floor beside Jisung, the four of them locked in a heated match of Mario Kart.

“Okay, okay, listen!” Jeongin says, plopping down onto the floor next to Hyunjin, his hair a wild mess and a streak of grease smudged across his cheek.

“Pause the game,” Minho mutters dryly, already guessing what’s coming.

“We replaced the carburettor today,” Jeongin says, breathless. “And get this, she let me tighten some bolts. Didn’t even double-check my work. Trust, you guys. That’s trust.”

“Or recklessness,” Minho deadpans, barely looking away from the screen.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongin says, though he’s grinning. “She even made me tea while we waited for a part to soak. It was kind of nice.”

Jisung snorts, not looking away from his kart. “Tea. How fucking romantic.”

“You’re just jealous,” Jeongin retorts, leaning back on his hands. “Bet no one’s ever made you tea while you fixed a carburettor.”

Hyunjin smirks, pausing the game and stretching his arms overhead. “You’re kind of adorable when you’re in simp mode.”

“I’m not fucking simping,” Jeongin snaps, his ears tinged red. “I’m just invested.”

“Sure,” Felix says, glancing up long enough to exchange a knowing look with Minho. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

At the end of week three, Jeongin stomps into the living room one evening, his hoodie streaked with grease and his expression sour. Jisung and Hyunjin are sprawled on the couch, while Minho sits nearby, his laptop open on his knees.

“Rough day, Romeo?” Minho asks, not even looking up.

“Fucking timing belt,” Jeongin mutters, throwing himself onto the couch between Jisung and Hyunjin. “We thought we had it, but the replacement part didn’t fit. She was so fucking pissed.”

Jisung perks up, his curiosity piqued. “Pissed at you?”

“No, dumbass. At the part,” Jeongin replies, throwing an arm over his face. “But honestly? It was kind of amazing. She gets all quiet and focused, and you can literally see her brain working overtime. It’s fucking unreal.”

Hyunjin nudges him with his elbow. “You’ve got it bad.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Jeongin mumbles, though there’s no real heat behind it.

By the final week, the Mustang is nearly complete. You and Jeongin spend an entire day putting the finishing touches on it, working late into the evening. When the engine finally roars to life, the sound is deafening and so is Jeongin’s yell of triumph.

“Holy fuck!” he shouts, jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning. “We fucking did it!”

You grin, brushing your greasy hands off on your jeans. “Told you it’d work.”

Later that night, Jeongin practically kicks open the front door of the Alpha Phi house, his face flushed with excitement. The guys are all gathered in the living room, and they look up in surprise as he barrels in.

“It fucking works!” Jeongin yells, throwing his hands in the air. “The Mustang is alive!”

“No way,” Jisung says, sitting up straight. “You actually pulled it off?”

“We pulled it off,” Jeongin corrects, flopping onto the couch with a satisfied grin. “She did most of the work, obviously, but I was there. I tightened bolts. I replaced hoses. I got covered in grease. It was fucking awesome.”

Felix laughs from the armchair. “So, what now?”

Jeongin pauses, his excitement fading into something softer. “I don’t know. When the car started, she was so happy. Like, I’ve never seen her light up like that. It was kind of perfect.”

“Sounds like you’re ready for the next step,” Hyunjin says, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s the next step?” Jeongin asks, his voice quieter now.

“Ask her out, dumbass,” Minho says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been dancing around it for weeks.”

Jeongin hesitates, his grin faltering slightly. “What if she says no?”

“She won’t,” Felix says firmly. “She wouldn’t have spent all that time with you if she didn’t like you.”

Jisung claps Jeongin on the shoulder. “You’ve got this, lover boy.”

Jeongin exhales, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

The next afternoon, Jeongin stands in front of the small flower shop on the corner of campus, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. The display window is bright and vibrant, blooms of every colour arranged in chaotic harmony. Despite the cheerful exterior, his nerves are wound tight as a fucking drum. He stares at the flowers like they might offer advice, but they’re as silent and smug as always.

“Okay, Jeongin, you can do this,” he mutters to himself, earning a strange look from a passing student. He ignores it, takes a deep breath, and pushes the door open. The bell above the door jingles, its soft chime making his nerves spike further.

The shop is cosy, filled with the earthy scent of fresh flowers, damp soil, and just a hint of something sweet. Behind the counter stands a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a warm smile. She looks up from trimming stems as Jeongin steps inside.

“Hi there,” she greets, her voice bright and chipper. “Looking for anything in particular?”

Jeongin scratches the back of his neck, his usual cocky demeanour faltering under the weight of this new territory. “Uh, yeah. I need flowers for someone. Like, congratulations flowers but also romance flowers? Does that make any sense?”

The woman’s eyebrow quirks up, her smile tilting into something amused. “That makes perfect sense. Tell me a little about the person.”

“She’s-” Jeongin pauses, his voice softening as your image pops into his mind. “She’s amazing. She’s smart and shy, but when she’s working on something, she just lights up, you know? She’s been busting her ass on this project with me, and I want to celebrate her. But, uh, I also want her to know I like her.”

The woman chuckles, nodding as she steps out from behind the counter. “Sounds like someone special. Let’s see-” She pulls blooms from different buckets, her movements precise. “Pink roses, classic for admiration and love. And daisies for celebration. Thoughtful but not too overbearing. How does that sound?”

Jeongin grins, his confidence returning a little. “Sounds perfect. You’re a lifesaver.”

When Jeongin shows up at Dewie’s auto shop later that day, the bouquet feels fragile in his hands, like it might crumble under the weight of his nerves. He rehearses what he wants to say under his breath as he walks through the door, already sweating through his hoodie.

Dewie is at the counter, sipping what looks like a truly heinous cup of black coffee. He raises an eyebrow as Jeongin strides in, bouquet clutched like a goddamn lifeline.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. Clueless Frat Boy,” Dewie says, smirking. “What’s with the flowers? You gonna apologize for breaking her wrench or something?”

Jeongin glares but doesn’t stop moving toward the back of the shop. “None of your business, old man.”

Dewie laughs, raising his coffee mug in mock salute. “Good luck, Romeo.”

When Jeongin steps into the garage, he finds you next to the Mustang, your focus entirely on sanding down the car’s exterior. You’re in black cargos again, snug and streaked with grime, paired with a fitted white tank top that clings to your frame.

Your trusty blue bandana keeps most of your hair out of your face, but a few strands escape, clinging to your cheeks from the sweat of the day. You don’t notice him at first, too engrossed in the repetitive motion of sanding, and Jeongin takes a moment to steady himself.

“Hey,” he says finally, his voice loud enough to carry over the faint whir of machines in the distance.

You glance up, startled, but your expression softens when you see him. “Oh. Hi.”

Jeongin steps closer, shifting awkwardly. “Busy?”

You set the sandpaper down, wiping your hands on a rag. “Kind of. Why?”

“These,” Jeongin says, holding up the bouquet like it’s a peace offering. “They’re for you. To celebrate the car. And, uh, just because.”

Your eyes widen, your movements faltering as you take the flowers gingerly. Your fingers brush his, and Jeongin swears his heart skips a beat. “They’re beautiful,” you whisper, glancing down at the delicate arrangement. “Thank you.”

Jeongin scratches the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “You deserve it. You worked so fucking hard on this car.”

You look at him, a small smile creeping onto your face. “You helped.”

“Barely,” Jeongin laughs, shaking his head. “I mostly held tools and asked dumb questions. But thanks for pretending I contributed.”

You laugh softly, the sound making Jeongin’s chest swell with pride. Setting the bouquet carefully aside, you nod toward the car. “Ready to paint this thing?”

“Hell yeah,” Jeongin says, rolling up his sleeves like he’s about to walk into battle. “Let’s make this car look as badass as you.”

You quickly grab a can of spray paint, shoving it into his hands. “Just follow my lead,” you mumble, but the faint smile on your lips gives you away.

The next few hours pass in a blur of laughter, paint fumes, and meticulous work. You coach Jeongin through the process, showing him how to hold the can and keep the spray even.

At first, he’s all over the place, but he improves with your patient guidance. By the time the Mustang is coated in a sleek, gleaming red, your arms ache, and the garage smells like a paint factory exploded, but the sight of the car makes it all worth it.

Jeongin steps back, admiring the Mustang with wide eyes. “Holy shit. It looks fucking incredible.”

“It does,” you agree, a note of pride in your voice as you run a hand along the freshly painted hood.

Jeongin glances at you, his pulse quickening. He rubs his palms against his jeans, gathering his courage. “Hey?”

You turn to him, tilting your head slightly. “Yeah?”

“So,” He shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets, his confidence wavering. “You’ve spent all this time teaching me about cars and making me look less like a total dumbass. And I kind of want to thank you properly.”

You blink, confusion flickering across your face. “You already brought me flowers.”

“No, I mean,” Jeongin takes a deep breath, his words tumbling out in a rush. “Would you want to go out with me? Like, on a date?”

Your eyes widen, your breath catching for a moment. The garage feels deafeningly quiet, and Jeongin’s nerves spiral with each passing second of silence.

“It’s cool if you don’t want to,” he adds quickly, his voice softer. “I just thought-”

“I’d like that,” you interrupt as you smile shyly. “A date, I mean.”

Jeongin’s face lights up, his grin breaking into full force. “Really?”

You nod, fiddling with the edge of your tank top. “Yeah. I think it’d be nice.”

Jeongin pumps his fist in the air like a kid who just won his first carnival game. “Alright, it’s a date. I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow sounds good,” you say, your voice still quiet but warm.

As the two of you clean up the shop, Jeongin can’t stop grinning, his excitement radiating off him. When he leaves that night, he’s already planning every detail of the perfect first date, determined to make it just as memorable as the month you spent building something extraordinary together.

Jeongin practically kicks the front door open as he bursts into the Alpha Phi house, his energy crashing through the quiet like a fucking tidal wave. His grin stretches so wide it feels like it might tear his face in half, and the squeak of his sneakers on the hardwood floors only adds to the chaos of his arrival. He darts straight into the living room, barely noticing the half-empty beer bottles and the faint smell of stale popcorn.

The scene is the usual mess: Chan, Changbin, and Seungmin are sprawled across the couch with beers in hand, mid-debate over something that sounds suspiciously stupid. Meanwhile, Minho, Jisung, Hyunjin, and Felix are crowded around the coffee table, shouting over the remote as a dumb action movie plays on the TV, paused mid-explosion.

Chan’s the first to look up, raising an eyebrow at Jeongin’s theatrical entrance. “What the fuck’s got you so excited?”

Before Jeongin can say a word, Jisung perks up from where he’s perched on the arm of the couch, grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat. “Oh, you three poor, oblivious bastards. You’ve missed some big fucking moves lately. And by big, I mean colossal.”

Changbin snorts, tilting his beer can. “What the fuck are you on about?”

Jisung gestures dramatically toward Jeongin. “Let the man speak.”

All eyes turn to Jeongin, who’s practically vibrating with excitement. He doesn’t waste a second. “I’m going on a date!”

The room erupts like a bomb went off.

“HOLY SHIT!” Jisung yells, leaping off the couch and pumping his fists in the air like a lunatic. “FINALLY!"

Felix and Hyunjin immediately bolt upright, whooping as they grab Jeongin in a bone-crushing group hug. Minho’s laughing so hard he nearly falls off the arm of the chair he’s perched on, while Chan just shakes his head, bewildered by the chaos unfolding before him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, calm down,” Seungmin mutters, though there’s a flicker of curiosity in his tone. “A date? With who?”

Felix pulls away from the hug just enough to shove Jeongin back toward the middle of the room. “Tell them! Tell them everything!”

Jeongin’s practically glowing as he recounts it, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I brought her flowers, pink roses and daisies, ‘cause that’s apparently a thing, and we painted the Mustang today, and when we were done, I just fucking asked. Like, straight up. And she said yes.”

Minho claps him on the back, smirking. “See? The long game works. I told you.”

“Don’t inflate your own ego,” Jeongin says, laughing. “But yeah, it fucking worked.”

From the couch, Changbin raises a hand, clearly confused. “Wait, hold the fuck up. A date with who?”

“Y/N,” Jisung blurts, his tone smug as fuck. He shoots Jeongin finger guns like this is somehow his victory. “You know, Seungmin’s shy mechanic friend?”

Seungmin bolts upright, his beer almost toppling over. “Y/N?! You’re going on a date with Y/N?!”

Jeongin grins like a proud idiot. “Yup. She even smiled at me when I asked. Like, a real smile.”

Seungmin looks like he’s been hit by a truck. “You mean my Y/N? The one who overthinks everything and literally panics trying to order coffee?”

“Same one,” Jeongin says, still grinning. “And I met Dewie, too. He’s intense, but he’s cool.”

Seungmin groans, running a hand through his hair like he’s about to have an aneurysm. “Dewie? You met Dewie? That man will kneecap you if you so much as make her frown. I’m not exaggerating.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on fucking it up,” Jeongin says, shrugging. “Relax. I’ve got this.”

“Dewie aside,” Minho interjects, smirking, “this is cause for celebration. Do you even know how much fucking effort went into this? We’ve been working like the wheel dudes at the F1.”

“You mean the pit crew?” Seungmin deadpans, his tone flat.

“Yeah, that,” Minho snaps, rolling his eyes. “Point is, we made this happen.”

“You’ve been planning this for months?” Seungmin demands, glaring at Jeongin. “Without telling me?”

Jeongin shrugs, the picture of casual. “You’d have been mad.”

“I’m mad now!” Seungmin shouts, though there’s no real heat in his voice. “That’s my best fucking friend. If you hurt her-”

“I know the drill. Be nice. Don’t fuck it up,” Jeongin interrupts, grinning.

“You’d better,” Seungmin mutters, leaning back into the couch. “God help you if you don’t.”

Changbin leans forward, smirking. “So, what’s the plan for this date, Romeo? First dates set the tone, you know. You fuck this up, and it’s over.”

Jeongin’s grin softens, but his excitement doesn’t waver. “I’ve got ideas. I want to keep it low-pressure, something she’ll be comfortable with.”

Hyunjin whistles low. “Look at you. Planning shit out. I’m impressed.”

Felix claps Jeongin on the shoulder, grinning. “You’re gonna nail it. She wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t like you.”

“Exactly,” Jisung adds, slapping Jeongin’s back so hard he nearly stumbles. “This is your moment. Don’t fuck it up.”

Jeongin raises his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I hear you. No pressure or anything.”

The room erupts in laughter and cheers again, and Jeongin feels his chest swell with pride. He knows the guys are rooting for him, and despite their teasing, their confidence in him makes him feel like he can actually pull this off.

As he settles into the chaos of the Alpha Phi living room, the thought of seeing you again tomorrow fills him with a mix of nerves and excitement. This date isn’t just a step forward. It’s the beginning of something he’s been quietly hoping for since the day you first knocked on the frat house door.

The classic car event is alive with the thrum of engines, the chatter of enthusiasts, and the faint scent of fuel lingering in the warm afternoon air. Rows of pristine vintage cars stretch out across the lot like an automotive museum brought to life.

Chrome gleams under the sun, polished to perfection, while proud owners lounge nearby, ready to swap stories or flex their hard work to anyone who stops to look.

Jeongin stands just outside the entrance, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. He’s dressed in black jeans and a crisp white button-up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows in a way that makes him look effortlessly put together. But the way he keeps fidgeting with his cuffs gives him away, his nerves are in overdrive. He tugs at the hem of his shirt for what feels like the hundredth time, scanning the crowd until he spots you weaving through the chaos.

When he sees you, it’s like the world slows down for a second.

You’re wearing lavender cargo pants that sit snugly on your hips, paired with a cropped black lace camisole that makes his heart stutter for just a moment. Black Converse complete the look, scuffed enough to suggest they’ve been with you through thick and thin. A lavender hair clip holds most of your hair back, though a few strands fall loose, framing your face in a way that Jeongin can’t stop staring at. Black sunglasses perch on your nose, and you adjust them as you walk, the motion so casual yet so captivating that Jeongin feels his nerves vanish in an instant.

“Wow,” he breathes as you approach, his grin widening naturally. “You look fucking incredible.”

You smile shyly, one hand fiddling with the strap of your bag. “Thanks. You look really good too.”

Jeongin chuckles, his fingers brushing through his hair in an unconscious attempt to play it cool. “Ready for this? It’s loud as hell and probably overwhelming as fuck.”

You glance at the crowd, taking in the swirling chaos of people and cars, and then back at him. “I’ll be fine,” you say softly, your voice a little unsure but determined.

“Good,” Jeongin says, his grin steady as he falls into step beside you. “I’ve got you if it gets too much.”

The two of you start making your way through the lot, the polished cars glinting in the sunlight. Jeongin’s eyes are half on the vehicles and half on you. As you stop in front of a sleek black 1967 Camaro SS, he notices the way your shy demeanour seems to melt away, replaced by something brighter and more confident.

“That’s a 1967 Camaro SS,” you say, your voice calm but laced with excitement. “It’s got a 6.5-litre V8 engine. Iconic in drag racing because it was built for speed.”

Jeongin whistles low, leaning slightly closer to get a better look. “Damn, you really know your shit.”

You laugh softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I grew up around this. Dewie used to drag me to events like this all the time when I was a kid. I guess it just stuck.”

“Lucky Dewie,” Jeongin says, his tone light but genuine. “Wish I had someone teaching me cool shit like this growing up. All I know about cars is, well, what you’ve told me.”

You glance at him, your lips twitching into a small smile. “You’re not a bad student.”

He grins at the compliment. “And you’re a damn good teacher.”

As the crowd grows thicker, the noise and press of bodies start to feel suffocating. Jeongin notices how your steps falter, your shoulders stiffening slightly. Without a word, he holds out his hand, palm open and steady.

You hesitate, glancing at his hand before slipping your own into it. His grip is firm but warm, and the way his fingers curl gently around yours sends a surprising wave of calm through you. He doesn’t comment, just squeezes your hand lightly, his silent reassurance louder than words.

The two of you stop in front of a low-slung beauty with gleaming chrome accents. A 1964 Chevy Impala.

“This one’s a 1964 Chevy Impala,” you say, your voice regaining its steady rhythm. “It’s iconic in lowrider culture. The hydraulics make it bounce, and it became a huge part of the aesthetic.”

Jeongin tilts his head, studying the car with a newfound appreciation. “So it’s not just about looking cool, it’s about the vibe, right?”

“Exactly,” you say, your face lighting up. “It’s like an art form. Every lowrider tells a story.”

Jeongin nods thoughtfully. “That’s fucking cool. See, this is why I brought you. If I’d come here alone, I’d just be walking around saying, ‘That one’s shiny,’ and calling it a day.”

You laugh, a soft sound that makes Jeongin’s chest feel warm. “You’re not that clueless.”

��Eh,” he says, smirking. “You give me too much credit.”

After a while, Jeongin steers you toward a quieter corner of the event, where a beautifully restored 1970 Dodge Charger gleams under the sun. He stops in front of the car, his grin turning mischievous.

“So,” he says casually, “after this, we’re hitting a drive-in.”

Your head snaps toward him, surprise flashing across your face. “A drive-in?”

“Yup,” Jeongin says, leaning against the Charger like he owns the thing. “We’re watching Transformers.”

You gasp softly, your sunglasses slipping down your nose as you stare at him. “You’re kidding. I love those movies.”

“I fucking knew it,” Jeongin says, his grin growing cocky. “Alien robots turning into cars? Totally your thing.”

“Shut up,” you say, laughing as you swat at his arm. “They’re amazing, okay? Don’t judge me.”

Jeongin holds his hands up in mock surrender, though he’s clearly enjoying himself. “No judgment. I’m a genius for guessing right.”

“Smartass,” you mutter, though you’re smiling.

“Alright, since I’m such a genius,” Jeongin says, nodding toward the Impala, “how about you teach me more about this lowrider thing? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

You roll your eyes but oblige, diving into an explanation of the car’s history and cultural significance. Jeongin listens intently, his hand still clasping yours as he alternates between watching your animated face and the cars you describe.

By the time the sun dips below the horizon, casting the event in shades of orange and gold, Jeongin feels like he’s learned more about cars, and about you, than he ever expected. As you both head toward the exit, your hand still in his, Jeongin can’t help but grin.

Jeongin pulls into the drive-in as the twilight sky gives way to the inky darkness of night. The massive outdoor screen flickers with pre-show ads, casting faint colours across the lot filled with cars. The smell of popcorn and sugary snacks drifts through the air, mingling with the low hum of idling engines and the buzz of voices from moviegoers settling in. Jeongin parks dead centre, a perfect spot, not too close to the screen but far enough from the busier clusters of cars.

He hops out of the car with the enthusiasm of someone who’s been planning this moment for weeks. Swinging open the trunk, he starts pulling out a carefully curated collection of pillows and blankets from the back.

There’s a plaid throw he stole from the frat house couch, a ridiculously soft fuzzy blanket he bought specifically for tonight, and a mismatched pile of pillows he’s swiped from his own bed and, maybe, Seungmin’s without asking.

Jeongin hums to himself as he arranges everything, fussing over the setup like he’s decorating a showroom. Every so often, he glances over his shoulder to check on you. You’re standing by the passenger door, fidgeting with the waistband of your lavender cargo pants. The black cropped lace camisole you’re wearing hugs you just right, but Jeongin can tell you’re overthinking the outfit from the way you keep tugging at the hem.

When he finally catches your gaze, he grins. “Oi, stop stressing and come over here. I went full Pinterest on this setup. Tell me it’s not amazing.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you walk toward him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously prepared,” he shoots back, stepping aside to reveal the setup in the trunk. The space looks like a cosy little nest, the blankets layered with precision and the pillows fluffed to an absurd degree. “I’ve outdone myself, haven’t I?”

You peer into the trunk, your lips twitching into a small smile. “It’s a lot. But it’s cute. I’ll give you that.”

“Cute is the vibe,” Jeongin says, crawling into the trunk with exaggerated care. He pats the spot beside him. “C’mon. This trunk isn’t gonna appreciate itself.”

You climb in, settling cross-legged on the blankets as Jeongin sprawls beside you, legs stretched out. From his hoodie pocket, he pulls out a plastic bag crammed with snacks.

“Alright, check this out. I raided the store like a fucking professional. I’ve got chips, candy, those overpriced mini ice cream tubs, and even gummy sharks. Your wish is my command.”

You blink at the array, clearly impressed. “You didn’t have to go all out, you know.”

Jeongin waves off your concern, tearing into a bag of sour candy. “What’s the point of a drive-in if you don’t go all out? Now, pick your poison. I got, like, three kinds of chocolate and enough sour shit to ruin your tongue for days.”

Smiling shyly, you grab a bar of chocolate from the bag. “Thanks. For all of this.”

Jeongin shrugs, popping a gummy shark into his mouth. “Easy. You're worth it.”

The opening scenes of Transformers begin to roll across the massive screen, and Jeongin leans back on his elbows, his attention half on the movie and half on you.

You sit cross-legged beside him, nibbling on the chocolate bar as you watch the screen, your face lit faintly by the shifting colours of the film and Jeongin can’t stop himself from sneaking glances at you.

At one point, you catch him staring. “What?”

Jeongin grins, his voice soft but teasing. “Nothing. You’re just really pretty.”

Your lips part but instead of deflecting, you lean forward, hesitating only a moment before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

For a second, Jeongin freezes, his brain short-circuiting. But then instinct takes over, and he kisses you back, his hand cupping your jaw gently as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

The kiss is slow at first, tentative, but it deepens naturally. The muffled sounds of the movie and the chatter from nearby cars fade into the background until it’s just the two of you, wrapped in each other.

As his lips move against yours, Jeongin shifts slightly, reaching up to grab the trunk handle. With a soft tug, he pulls it closed, sealing you both in the cocoon of blankets and pillows. The dim light filtering through the tinted windows casts everything in a muted glow, and the sudden privacy thickens the air between you.

Jeongin rolls onto his side, balancing his weight on his elbows so he’s hovering just slightly over you. “What about your alien robots?” he whispers, his lips brushing yours as he grins.

You smile, your voice barely above a murmur. “I’ve seen it before.”

Jeongin laughs, a low, breathy sound that vibrates against your chest. “Fair point.”

He kisses you again, his movements slower but more deliberate this time. One of his hands skims down your side, resting lightly at your waist, while the other brushes back a strand of hair that’s come loose from your clip. Your fingers find their way into his hair, tugging lightly, and Jeongin lets out a quiet groan that sends shivers down your spine.

“Fuck,” he mutters against your lips, his forehead pressing briefly to yours as he catches his breath. “You’re fucking amazing.”

Your shy smile returns, but there’s a newfound confidence in the way you pull him back down into another kiss, your hands threading deeper into his hair. The heat between you grows with every passing moment, your breaths mingling as the kisses become more urgent, more consuming.

The movie continues to play in the background, the flickering light of alien robots and explosions casting faint shadows across the trunk. But neither of you pays it any attention. In the small, cosy space you’ve carved out together, nothing else exists. Just the softness of the blankets, the warmth of Jeongin’s touch, and the electricity sparking between you with every kiss.

The muffled explosions and grinding metal of Transformers fill the car as Jeongin’s kisses deepen. His hands rest on your waist, the tips of his fingers brushing just under the hem of your camisole. His touch is firm but unhurried, like he’s savouring every second.

Your hands are tangled in his hair, tugging gently when he leans closer. The world outside the car, the other moviegoers, the faint sounds of laughter and popcorn rustling, is nothing more than a blur.

Then, with an obnoxiously loud clunk, the trunk pops open.

“Well, isn’t this cosy as fuck,” comes Jisung’s unmistakable voice, thick with amusement. “We thought we’d join you. Make sure Innie isn’t fucking this up.”

Jeongin groans audibly against your lips, pulling back just enough to glare over his shoulder. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

But Jisung, clearly having no intention of leaving, hops into the trunk with the agility of a hyperactive squirrel. He sprawls across the carefully arranged blankets and pillows, his shit-eating grin so wide it could light up the entire drive-in.

“Not kidding,” Jisung says cheerfully, adjusting a pillow behind his head. “Someone’s gotta supervise. You have a history of being a horny little shit.”

“Seriously?” Jeongin mutters, exasperated.

To make matters worse, Minho climbs in behind Jisung, moving with the nonchalance of someone who gives exactly zero fucks about personal space. He flops onto the blankets, crossing his arms as he stares at the screen.

“Nice setup,” Minho says, smirking. “Mind if we stay?”

Jeongin turns fully to glare at them, throwing his hands in the air. “Yes, I fucking mind! Get out!”

“Can’t,” Jisung says, shrugging. “It’s a free trunk. Movie law.”

Jeongin groans again, louder this time, and mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like I hate my life. But instead of wasting more energy on them, he turns back to you, his expression softening as he leans in to kiss you again.

You’re caught between embarrassment and laughter as Jeongin’s lips meet yours once more. His hand moves to your jaw, tilting your face slightly to deepen the kiss. For a moment, it feels like the intruders aren’t even there.

“Aw, look at them go,” Jisung says loudly, his voice dripping with fake awe. “It’s like watching a rom-com but with more tongue.”

Jeongin pulls back just long enough to shoot Jisung a deadly glare. “Jisung, I swear to God, if you don’t shut the fuck up-”

Jisung grins, completely unfazed. “What? You’ll make out harder?”

Minho snorts, finally pulling his attention from the screen to deadpan, “Ji, stop being a noisy bitch for five minutes. Optimus Prime is talking.”

Jisung ignores him, sitting up and stretching his arms. “So,” he says, looking at Minho with exaggerated seriousness, “should we make out too? You know, balance the energy in here?”

Minho doesn’t even blink. “Shut the fuck up.”

“C’mon,” Jisung presses, leaning closer. “You know you want to. I see the way you look at me.”

Minho sighs like he’s carrying the weight of the world, finally turning to glare at Jisung. “If I kiss you, will you shut the fuck up?”

Jisung’s grin widens. “Probably.”

Without a word, Minho leans in, planting the world’s fastest, most unimpressed kiss on Jisung’s lips before pulling away and returning his attention to the screen. “There. Happy?”

Jisung pouts. “That was barely a kiss. Where’s the passion, Minho? Where’s the fire? The tongue! I need tongue!”

Jeongin, who’s been watching this unfold with equal parts horror and amusement, finally breaks. “Holy shit. I fucking knew it. You two are into each other.”

You stifle a laugh, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. “Honestly,” you say, your voice soft but amused, “I thought they were already together. My gay radar must be slightly off which is mildly embarrassing considering Megan Fox in this movie was my gay awakening”

Jisung gasps dramatically, turning to you with wide eyes. “Another queer! Oh my God!” Without warning, he scrambles across the trunk and into your lap, throwing his arms around you like a particularly clingy cat. “We’re besties now. Sorry, Jeongin. She’s mine.”

Your laughter bubbles over, bright and uncontrollable, as Jisung snuggles against you. “You’re ridiculous,” you manage between giggles.

Jeongin stares at Jisung, his jaw slack. “Are you fucking serious right now? Get off her!”

“No can do,” Jisung replies, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth like this is all perfectly normal. “I’m keeping her. She’s officially my emotional support gay.”

Jeongin throws his head back, groaning. “Un-fucking-believable.”

Minho, clearly done with the entire situation, mutters, “So do us straights just go fuck ourselves, or what?”

“Minho,” Jisung says sweetly, leaning his head against your shoulder, “you’re heteroflexible. Which means you live in the glorious denial glass closet where your gay thoughts stay nice and cosy.”

Minho deadpans. “I’m two seconds from throwing your ass out of this trunk.”

“Promises, promises,” Jisung replies with a wink.

You’re laughing so hard now that you’re practically crying, and Jeongin just shakes his head, his lips twitching into a grin despite himself.

“This is the weirdest fucking date I’ve ever been on,” he mutters, though there’s no missing the affection in his tone.

“Same,” you reply, resting your head against his shoulder. Jisung remains draped across your lap, happily munching popcorn, while Minho continues to glare at the screen, occasionally pelting Jisung with stray kernels.

Despite the chaos, there’s a warmth in the air that feels like belonging. It’s messy, loud, and a little ridiculous, but it’s perfect in its own fucked-up way.

general taglist: @nightmarenyxx

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