mieu ♡

Life went on.

You continued living normally, surviving day by day as you had an incessant thorn on your side (aka your current boyfriend), with Jeongin's also continuing like nothing ever happened to the both of you on that one night.

Like you had never almost kissed.

You acted like nothing happened, of course. It seemed like you were pretty good at that, given your current situation with your boyfriend being still with you, your body numb as you kept tagging along with him when he drank with his friends.

And whenever you did, Jeongin was also there. He used to rarely attend these, but after everything, you seemed to be the only one who noticed that he had started attending them religiously.

His friends didn't suspect a thing, merely overjoyed that he was hanging out more with them, never really looking into why he did.

The why in question being you.

He'd always sit across from you as you always sit next to your lovely (that definition is pushing it) boyfriend, and whenever you tried had initiating any sort of intimate PDA with him, he seemed to busy laughing at another thing someone said to pay you any attention, subconsciously pulling away from you.

Every time it happened, your gaze would lock onto his figure, only to see his staring directly at you, his glass in his hand as his eyes were dark, yet he had a grin on his face.

You thought it was to just gawk at you, taunt you silently, like he was thinking of some joke.

An inside joke that only the two of you could share, yet he would be the only one laughing.

"Ah— sorry, what were you saying, baby?" a voice suddenly called out to you.

Ahh, right.

Your mind was filled with Jeongin, that you completely forgot you were trying to get your boyfriend's attention.

You observed him as your boyfriend turned to look at you. He was clearly drunk by now, the tinge of pink on his ears and cheeks prominent, paired with his slurred speech.

"Oh, it's nothing, babe," you smile at him, shaking your head. "I think I just wanna go home now."

You're a few bottles in, and you knew better than to go past your limit, but it seems like your boyfriend begged to disagree.

"What? No. . ." he immediately shut you down, "I thought you tagged along because you wanted to have fun. . ."

His voice seemed to get louder; you look around to see that everyone had their attention now to you.

"Jagiya, keep it down." you try to calm him as you look at the others in apology, them trying not to eavesdrop (even when it was so easy to).

". . . Bear with it for a few more hours, okay? It's irritating me how you don't realize you're ruining the fun, jagiya." he finished.

That stung.

Especially with the pet name. Like he had tried to slap on a faulty band-aid after launching a nuclear missile of words at you. It just made it worse.

Too focused on yourself, you didn't notice how hard Jeongin was glaring into his friend. If he didn't know any better, he would have already had him on the ground, forcing him to apologize to your innocent self.

But he had a reputation as an idol to uphold, so he kept silent, trying to keep his anger satiated.

You stood up, calling his name, grabbing his arm to try and tug him up, "You're drunk. Let me take you home, okay?"

"We'll talk about this in the morni—" you were suddenly cut off by him swatting your grip on his arm.

"Let go!" he slurred, "Aish, you're ruining my night." he mumbled under his breath.

Even if he was reluctant to you, he listened anyway, walking away, grumbling something between the lines of your name and 'always ruining his fun'.

You gather your things, bowing to the others quickly as they assure you it was fine and apologize to you as well for handling the situation well.

All but one.

You didn't know why, but you were subconsciously gauging his reaction while the whole thing had happened, yet you could only observe from the surface that he held the same uninterested stare at your boyfriend the whole time until he was out of sight.

But you tuck that away for later, you had a very cranky boyfriend to deal with right now.

Why. . . for fuck's sake, why am I still staying? is what you ask yourself, but then you remember all the good memories with him, refusing you to have a clear mind on what to do.

You see your boyfriend leaning on a lone light post outside, the cold air biting at your cheeks as you push the glass door to walk out.

His head seemed to ache from the sudden change of temperature, you notice as he looked at you and winced from the sudden whiplash.

"Yah," he mumbled, his head tucked into his chest. Not even your name, or a pathetic pet name.

Just a 'hey'.

Like you weren't anything else but a plain character in his life. Like you weren't his girlfriend.

"Call me a taxi. . ." the boy grumbled. You sighed, begrudgingly pulling out your phone, already clicking on an app to book him a car.

The predicament was odd to you.

Back then, you'd be the one shitfaced, drunk beyond the point of normal motor function, and he'd be the one helping. Well, helping in the sense that he'd force you to go home, no help in calling a taxi, just a demand.

Now? you're the one helping him, only thing different you suppose is the distance.

The coldness you've gotten used to as he seemed less interested in having you romantically, and more focused on having you as a title.

Doing the bare minimum to keep you in check.

Looking at everything in retrospect, you laugh to yourself.

This relationship is so stupid. So very stupid.

Maybe you giggled a little too much, your boyfriend gazing at you peculiarly.

"What's so funny?"

"Huh? Nothing. The car's coming in a minute, it's about to turn the street."

It arrived, the taxi's lights cutting through the early morning darkness.

He couldn't even locate the door handle, for God's sake. Once again, when you stepped in to help, your boyfriend stepped in to mumble something as you opened the door.

"I almost had it," he whispered under his musky breath, the alcohol burning smell evident as you helped him sit down. "I don't need you here to help me always. . . so annoying."

You paused your movement to put his seatbelt on.

That seemed to be your last straw.

Because as soon as you pulled away, before closing the car door, you say his name loud and clear.

"Yah." you call.

"What?" he replies.

"Let's break up."

Seemingly not having enough cognitive function to understand the lengths of your statement, he waved you off, visibly annoyed at your voice making his head churn.

"Whatever, fine. I'll call you tomorrow. . ." he hissed.

You slam the door a little harder, bowing to the driver through the car's tinted window, before it sped off, leaving you alone in the cold of the night.

That was it. You finally ended it.

Maybe because the moment was still fresh, but you didn't know how to process it.

Your fingers itched.

Fuck, I want a smoke.

Turning back to a familiar alley, you walk into its dim lighting, leaning on the wall, the cold concrete pressing through your clothes.

You take in a deep breath, your eyes closed as you try to ground yourself.

This night couldn't get any more crazy, padding yourself down, you try searching for your cigarettes.

"Yah," someone called, the tone making your ears perk, your body tensing at the break of quiet.

"I thought I told you to stop smoking."

You sigh out, closing your eyes in lethargy. You knew that voice.

That low, demanding inflection in tone. And as much as you didn't want it to, it made your heart beat faster.

Blinking your eyes open, you see Jeongin once more, walking up to you.

He still looked his same self, hands in his jacket pockets as he nonchalantly existed.

"I'm not. I'm just. . . gathering myself."

He leaned against the wall next to you, closer than before, your shoulders bumping against one another.

"Yeah, right." he scoffed, unconvinced as he looked away. "But you were thinking about it."

“. . . Did you hear the whole thing?” you suddenly asked, Jeongin only giving you a small smile as he shrugged.

Yep, he definitely heard everything that happened.

The constant buzz of the lamp post filled the quiet of your conversation, the boy doing nothing but keeping you silent company.

"What are you even still doing here?" you ignore his comment, looking at him, observing his flushed ears and cheeks. "Last time you were here, you. . ."

You hesitated, even more so when he looked down at you now, his height making his shadow loom.

"I. . .?" his tone was teasing, a sly smirk appearing on his face as his eyes glazed across your face, assessing how you seemed to be trying (keyword: trying) to keep your composure.

"You crossed a line."

"I almost crossed a line."

"You practically kissing me wasn't crossing the line?"

"That wasn’t a kiss. Even if I did," he shrugged, confidently saying, "I didn't hear any complaints from you."

"You liked it." he simply stated.

His grin never left his face as he observed what you would do next after what he had said, gauging you.

You didn't answer. You didn't know how to, you only bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself grounded.

He looked at you with a gaze, one that told you that he knew, he knew you enjoyed it. No matter how much you deny, deep down he knew, no words from you needed.

He stood up straight as he leaned away from the wall, then leaned into your space.

"What even is the line?" he mused, leaning into your personal space, "The 'don't want your friend's girlfriend', line?"

"Does it even exist if it's obvious that you want me just as much as I want you?"

You scoff, "And where did you hear that? Did you hit your head, Innie? You’re hearing things."

"I don't need to hear it from anyone," now he was inches away from your face. "I can tell."

He tugged his hands out of his pockets, one arm taking refuge to cage you in, as another one slinked it on your waist.

You didn't speak. You didn't need to. Because he was right.

Looking up at you for any sign of rejection, he continued his actions, leaning into the crook of your neck.

You tensed as he leaned it, then you felt it.

A slight touch. A small kiss on the side of your neck, before leaving another one on the underside of your jaw, this one longer than the other.

It was just a kiss, God damn it.

And it wasn't even on the lips, yet somehow—his small actions felt a million times more intimate, more personal than whatever you and what's his name ever had in those years of being together.

"I could be sooo,” he drawled the last word out, “So so good to you. You know that.”

“Wow, you really like praising yourself. High and mighty Jeongin, always such a goody two-shoes idol.” you smile, trying to retort, as if your voice didn't waver mid-sentence from how nervous you were.

“Oh,” he says your name, pulling away to look at you, “You don’t know how cruel I can be, baby.”

The sudden pet name gave you a chill down you spine, one you tried your best to hide visibly. It gave you more of a thrill than whatever your now ex had always called you.

“All I need is for you to be with me instead,” pushing himself off the hand he was leaning on, he kept himself close as he tucked a stray hair away from your face. “And you can find out yourself.”

“We both know you aren’t allowed to date, Jeongin.”

He smirked.

So you were thinking of it, then?

“There’s no clause about it in my contract, though.”

You deadpan at him, “I’d be putting myself in danger, Jeongin-ah. . .”

“Y’know, for someone so opposed to it, I don’t hear a no.”

The silence was palpable. You didn’t know how to retort. An insult about how arrogant he could be died in your throat, replaced with a soft sigh.

The only thing you could say was, “If I told you then that I want you to cross the line right now, what would you do?”

His gaze into you was dark, like he was a predator looking at his next meal. You should be ashamed, because you fiund it exciting.

“Hmm, then I’d do this,”

His hands cradled your face, pulling you into his space now, before he dipped into you.

Your lips intermingled with each other, the movement slow and exhilarating. It was clumsy, teeth knocking into each other as hands wandered.

Yours crumpled the front of his jacket, while his pushed you to the wall, his hand cradling your head.

This should feel wrong, you should feel guilty, shameful. He was your boyfriend's ex’s friend, someone he trusted like his own brother.

Not anymore, you suppose.

And yet, shame never felt more pleasurable as you listen to his sudden whimper when you snaked your hand up the nape of his hairt to tug a little.

“We can’t,” you pull away, his lips chasing after you for another deep kiss, before you get the chance to speak, “Can’t let anyone know about this.”

“Of course. It’ll just be our little secret. . . right?” his voice is low and raspy, and you couldn’t blame him. After a heated make out session, who’s voice wouldn’t be?

"Mmm," his voice vibrated in your ears, your body reacting by making your legs squeeze. "My little secret. . ."

You nod, your eyes hooded from the sudden heated kisses, before you smile once more as he dipped into your neck again, leaving a slew of open mouth kissed, flinching as you felt a sudden bite.

“Jeongin!” you yelp, before he pulls away.

“Sorry,” his face smug, definitely not sincere on his apology.

Before anything more could happen, you both could hear a sudden flurry of footsteps, before the sound of the glass door of the bar being pushed open reaches your ears.

The voices register in your mind that it was your friends, seemingly done with tonight, about to go home.

One of them suggests they go for a smoke break in the alley. The same one you both were in.

You panic a little in your mind, before gathering a plan.

Tugging at his wrist, you walk him over to your friends, out of the alley.

They quickly recognize you as they turn at the sound of you, calling out your name in drunken joy.

You intermingle with their socialization quickly, Jeongin also acting like nothing had happened.

But as you both went your separate ways, with you calling a taxi with your friends because you lived close together—as he drove home through the night, you could only think of what you had done.

What sick and twisted pandora's box had you just opened by letting your feelings get in the way by kissing him tonight, and what would be entailed by it.

You didn't know. But you were sure as hell that it made your stomach flip thinking about it, thinking about what could and would happen.

Because now that Jeongin's had a taste of you?

He's never letting you go.

BONUS ENDING ;

i don't support getting w your friend's ex guys (trust me as a person who experienced that shi firsthand, dude it hurts alot) but if my ex's friend is jeongin, i'm jumping at the chance like a fnaf jump scare no matter how long me nd his friend have been tgt idc‼️

jeongin didn't know what was different. only that he could feel some kind of aura around you that the other fans couldn't see or sense near you, a luminous ambience that only he could see.

you weren't looking at him. you seemed busy in your own world, trying to breath in properly 'cause you were nervous. he smiled when you turned and saw him staring back at you.

your face loaded for a second, before smiling back, waving calmly. he waved back. your grin was a little bit wider when he did it.

the fan sign continued, none of the fans here—not even his hyungs—that their maknae had a secret agenda now when he saw you, which was to get connected with you.

no matter how risky it was.

when you were finally sat on the table, he was itching to meet you.

he had been reviewing all the ways he could possibly flirt. that wouldn't be too obvious, right? it would just be him doing his duty as an idol to entertain their fans with fanservice.

except when it came to you, the fanservice was teetering a little bit to crossing over to real flirting.

"h-hi, jeongin." you bowed before sitting down.

"hi, there." his gaze followed your every move, smirking. "what's your name?"

you told him your name as you hand out your album to sign, jeongin making sure to graze your fingers a little, the sight of you visually short-circuiting when it happened forever ingrained in his memory for when he wants to smile.

"you have a really pretty face," he signed your album with practiced ease, opening the photobook to sign his photo in there as well, "pretty name too. you're lucky."

"i- hah. . .!" you chuckled awkwardly, flattered as you blinked and thanked him.

"what made you like our group, hm?" he asked, leaning in elbows on the table as he splayed his hands out for you. you stared at them a little confused, before you answer his question.

"i really liked your guys' music. it's pretty alternative to modern pop, so— oh."

feeling a sense of boldness run through him (and slight impatience that you didn't get the hint), he took both your hands in his. jeongin hummed, like this was normal.

jeongin had a sneaking suspicion that his hyung, seungmin, next to him was quite taken aback at his sudden love for skin ship, but he didn't pay him no mind.

not for the remainder of the fan sign, at least.

you held eye contact with him, but only for short periods of time. his smile and sharp gaze making it almost impossible for you to focus when it just made your brain all mushy.

he hummed at your unfinished reply, before asking another question. "you must have a bias then, right?"

"ah, yeah i do!" you say happily, unaware that you were waving your intertwined hands from the positive question.

"is it me?" his fingers squeezed yours a little, anticipating a 'yes'.

"ah, no. . ." you say sheepishly, jeongin letting out a dramatic sigh.

"it's actually bangchan, haha," you say, "sorry, innie-ah."

"too bad. . ." he pouted.

"it's 'cause i have a thing for older guys, yknow?" you try joking, but then he answers you with something you didn't know how to reply to.

"so you wouldn't date a younger guy?"

jeongin's thumbs started to caress the sides of your hands, the action turning your head all fuzzy. if you were calm enough (which you weren't until the end of the fan sign), you would have noticed his sly smirk, obviously flirting with you now.

"i— ha. . . i didn't say that," you smile, tilting your head down as he tries to catch you sight.

"would you not mind long distance relationships too?"

"uhm," you tilt your head up, meeting his gaze for a little while, more confused than shy, "n-not really, why?"

'you look really pretty flustered like this, y'know?', is jeongin really wants to say, but with seungmin (who you were talking to before him) starting to look really suspicious, he settles for:

"that's good, then we'd be perfect together."

the timer goes off, and with jeongin being the last member on the end of the table, you're forced to bow your goodbye and walk off, with jeongin's eyes following you until he's forced to interact with the fan in front of him, his smugness from the interaction still lingering.

you, who just exited the venue, had let out a sigh of relief? exhilaration? you aren't sure, but you know damn well your hearts beating really fast.

the hours pass after that, and once you make it home, you wind down and get ready for bed, the signed album and photobook still splayed out on your duvet.

you smile at the event, remembering all of the happenings with the other members, before recalling the last one. your fingers trace jeongin's signature.

looking at the photobook, you open it up and flip through it, looking at the messages that the members left you, you grin at each one, some telling you to eat while the others saying they'd love to see you again.

then, you see jeongins message for you, and your grin drops.

' you don't mind younger guys if it was me, right? call me soon, okay? ~ XXXX - XXX - XXX — y.j ❤︎ '

it was messily written, giving you the impression that he did it quickly, so that no one could see in the photobook that fast. you scoffed in disbelief.

your heart jumped a few beats faster. there it was again. that feeling in your stomach. the odd pull.

you caress your thumb on the ink of the page, lost in thought.

the big question is; will you message, or will you ghost?

ugh skz not having mnl in their tour destinations is making my heart break 💔🥀anyways have some delusional jeongin imagine because i dont see enough about him being written ;D

He shouldn't feel like this.

But whenever you keep walking into Jeongin's view whenever him and his old friends meet up looking so. . . so tempting, he couldn't help but feel like a dog getting thrown a bone when thinking about you.

You were such a sweet girl. God, how did his friend get so lucky?

Even if you were just his friend, you treated him with such care—asking meaningful questions, giving him gifts (you gave all your boyfriend's friends gifts too, but Jeongin doesn't want to focus on that), and even checking up on him when he told you once that he felt mentally tired sometimes of being an idol.

Whenever you heard from your boyfriend that Jeongin was feeling sick, you'd send him messages about being worried and hoping he gets well soon.

He'd smile to himself when he reads those, getting into a delusional state, until he finishes reading the last part of your message when you said your boyfriend told you he was under the weather.

Don't get him wrong, Jeongin likes his friend. Well—like is a strong word.

He's been with him on his last year of high school, and they had. . . some good memories together—enough good memories to be at the bare minimum of being 'close friends'.

But he can't help but get green-eyed when he sees his friend treat you like how you should never be treated.

He's never seen him pull a chair out for you, never open the door, never cook the meat or feed you when you guys hung out together. . .

God—Jeongin's never even seen him push you into the inside part of the sidewalk, does his friend even like his girlfriend?

Jeongin subconsciously wants the answer to that question to be a no.

But he'll never say it out loud.

Because his actions speak wiser.

Somehow, he's started to be your number one person to call whenever you and your boyfriend fought. Jeongin, not wanting you to think that he didn't like him as well, had merely nodded and let you talk his ear while he agreed and gave his neutral opinion, until you were tired out.

"Thanks for always listening to me talk about this, Innie." you finished. He could hear the relaxed smile in your tone.

"It's nothing, It's a little funny though."

You hum a questioned tone, "Why is that?"

"You talk behind his back all night, but I know tomorrow morning you'll be all over him."

The call line went silent for a moment, Jeongin could just imagine your face, scrunched up and thinking.

"I. . . it's just, I don't know what to do when I end things with him," you confess as you lie back on your bed, staring up at your ceiling.

Jeongin's ears perked at a specific word that you said. When. 'When you break things off' not 'if'. . .

so you were planning to? does that mean he has a chance?

"I don't want to feel alone again."

Jeongin hummed, before saying, "You're not alone, though."

You chuckle at his reply, "yeah, yeah— 'i have other friends to hang out with', I know that—"

"You have me."

Your teasing words die in your throat. You chuckle awkwardly at his reply, before moving on with another topic before you end the call an hour later.

You acted like you didn't know what he meant. But you knew, and Jeongin is definitely sure that you know what it meant.

He could tell by the way you seemed to be more on edge whenever you tag along with your boyfriends hang out and he's there.

You smile and laugh normally at the things Jeongin says, but there's this lingering tension that you feel now after the talking stops, only getting dragged back to reality when your boyfriend starts to call out your name or unceremoniously pulls your arm to catch up with him.

It's even worse when you guys get left together.

Your boyfriend and you had a really big argument over something (again) before you guys came to the bar, and you tried your best to act normal. But the icy passive-aggressiveness quips and silent treatment he gave to you through the night was too much for you.

You told everyone you'd 'get some air' outside, walking into the alley of the building, pulling out a cigarette.

The flicking of your lighter was loud at the quiet of the night. It finally clicked properly, leaning in until it lit the end.

Your relationship with your boyfriend was on the very precipice of falling apart. You could already feel it, and with everything piling up, you resorted to smoking.

Minutes pass as your cigarette burns shorter, the only indication of time you have.

You look up at the dark sky, taking another drag, with you sighing it out.

"You shouldn't be smoking."

Your heart jumps out your chest at the voice, looking to where he was standing.

"Jeongin. . .!" your hand clutches at your chest, the boy's expression neutral as he walks up to you, leaning on building next to you.

"Fuck. . ." you muttered, your body starting to calm down. "I- you startled me."

"Sorry," he chuckles a little, voice low.

You look at him, observing his side profile. Jeongins looks unreal, even under the shoddy streetlights, his visuals making your heart skip a beat. But that's just because he's attractive, he's an idol after all.

Means nothing else. Yeah, that's definitely it.

His presence is heavy as you hesitantly take another drag.

"You shouldn't be here," you blow out a puff, vehemently waving it away from his vicinity, as you add on, "It isn't good for your lungs."

He tilts his head, you could tell without looking by his tone that he was smirking. "There are more important things on my mind than my lungs right now."

You hum, nodding. A few seconds pass, the quiet of the midnight comfortable between you two. "Like what?"

"You."

Your cigarette starts to feel heavy between your fingers, but nothing feels heavier than the close distance between you and him.

Your gaze follows his as he pushing himself off the wall, before standing in front of you. "What are you even doing?"

"I'm. . . smoking?"

He laughs a little at your obliviousness, the sound of it making your ears feel warm.

You watch his hands digging themselves into his pockets as he shakes his head at you. "No. . . I mean, look at you. He's gotten so insufferable that you've resorted to this."

He nods at your cigarette, making you look at it, before glancing back at him again.

"Why?" he shrugs, "Why do you still stay?"

". . ." you avoid his sharp gaze, looking to your side, answering him with, "I. . . where else would I go to if I did break up with him?" you let out a humorless laugh, voice meek and small as the crickets of midnight chirp.

He takes a step forward. Your feet are toe-to-toe with his. If you weren't leaning on the wall, you'd be chest to chest with him. His sudden act of boldness makes you dart up to look at him.

"You know damn well where to go," he leaned into your personal space, pausing to look down at your lips before darting back up. "And you know that you should."

His eyes are lasered in at you, your free hand goes to grab his arm in support, your breathing unsteady.

He tilts his head, lips mere centimeters away from yours.

Your heart feels like it's running for miles. you can't control it. every fiber of your body seems to be okay with this, no subconscious or instinctive feeling of pulling away.

So, you close your eyes, ready of what's to come.

But after a few seconds, it didn't.

Opening your eyes, you see him staring down at your lips, before placing a slow, chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. Then, he pulled away.

"Stop smoking," he adjusted his outfit, acting like nothing had happened, "I'll see you back inside."

He walked back inside, your gaze following him until the very end until you couldn't see him. Once he wasn't there anymore, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

What the fuck was that?

You didn't know what he was trying to do, but you put out your cigarette, stomping on it as you ready yourself to go inside.

Because after that, now you're absolutely, 100% sure that Jeongin wants you.

What he said last time you called, all the lingering tension you tried to ignore, you could chalk it up to some random reason.

But what had happened tonight? there's no excuse for that.

And given that you didn't try to push him away, Jeongin is sure you want him too.

All that's left is how long you'll last in a relationship that's a mere shell of itself anymore.

And when you finally break up with his friend, Jeongin's wondering how quick you'll come calling him for comfort. . . and maybe for something else.

Because jeongin knows you'll come crawling to him.

He knows.

And that's what scares you.

Because he's right.

is this kind of emotional cheating? yes 😃 but it's with jeongin so we all good 🤗 might do a part 2 to this but i'm not entirely sure.

update: HAHAHA i made a part 2 :D

part 2 ; green-eyed monster.²

there was more. in between the videos, if anyone was observant enough, they'd notice jeongin looking at her in the first few seconds of the video before the dance had started. they'd notice how he didn't mind getting touched by her, when she hesitantly patted his shoulder at the end of the tiktok dance, his hand covering yours enthusiastically.

and every time you messed up, or when he did, he'd laugh it off, make a silly joke to lighten the mood, smiling as he tried to observe how lively you were when you smiled.

he wanted to see more of it.

by the end of it all, you thanked him again once more, your faux confidence shown in the videos dropping, revealing your more reserved self, a little more self aware of everything, of him.

he noticed it. you didn't have the strength to hold eye contact with him for more than a few seconds, looking down immediately at anything else but his gaze.

"i- uhm, thank you, jeongin-sunbaenim." you bow once more, "it was great meeting you."

"it was a great experience meeting you as well," your name feels like honey on his tongue as he says it. you try and suppress the smile that comes from it.

he notices.

jeongin liked it. seeing you nervous. squirming.

he wanted to see more of it.

"can i get your number?" he asked, his reason for asking was to check up on you, flashing his fox-like grin, faux sincerity.

and you, who didn't know any better—and was still an extremely closeted fangirl—had practically smiled ear to ear, handing him your number with wide-eyed joy.

the events after that were smooth. with your days becoming a little bit sweeter when jeongin had randomly decided to pop up in your notifications, giving you positive messages, even as far as sending a picture of himself smiling with cheery text.

not wanting to leave your senior—and your crush—high and dry from a simple heart react at his message, you send back a photo.

unbeknownst to you, every time you reply, he can't help but smirk.

whenever he sent a vague message, one that would teeter the line of merely being a concerned senior idol to something more dangerous, how would you react?

he could imagine the sharp intake of your breath, suddenly flustered as you blink away the sudden inappropriate thoughts and reply back after he saw you typing for 3 minutes, merely saying 'thank you, sunbae!'.

it wasn't enough for him.

he needed you. to see you. to touch you. to watch you get nervous.

and somehow? all of those things happened. not suddenly—they were subtle, all through the span of both your promotion events. things you couldn't ever calculate as having ulterior motive.

a sudden handshake he gives at an awards show that you don't notice lingers for a moment longer than the ones he gives your members.

his foxlike gaze purposefully looking at your group members first before looking at you, then staring wistfully at you, yourself blissfully unaware.

walking past each other as he suddenly whispers something teasing in your ear, low and hushed. okay, well—that last one made you a little suspicious, more so flustered than anything. your red ears were enough proof.

at fashion events where both your groups had been personally invited to attend, he'd somehow find a way to detach himself from his group, finding you as he sidled up next to you.

he would always talk slow and relaxed, like he had all the time in the world when he conversed with you. in return, you replied in stark contrast, your answers shy and rushed.

maybe it was because of his gaze was the reason you couldn't help but be shy. he'd always, always look down at you with those eyes.

you didn't even notice how close he had shuffled next to you until you felt the fabric of his suit brush against your bare shoulder, the sudden contact making you involuntarily shiver.

"you okay?" he'd ask, his face and tone unreadable as he gave you a small cheshire-like smirk. you couldn't say anything that wouldn't seem silly, so you simply nodded and tiny smile, trying your best to compose yourself.

it felt weird. maybe you were overthinking things.

the texts of his having an odd undertone you couldn't quite place your finger on, his sudden aversion to touching—this one really threw you in for a loop, being a retired fan and all—dissipating whenever he socialized with you, and only you.

but that was just him being comfortable with you? right? right?

social media made your suspicions worse.

user1: don't mean to sound parasocial but is jeongin getting real touchy with y/n? i ain't never seen him act like this be4 🥀 user2: i.n is literally known for not liking skinship and physical touch unless its his members (occasionally), but all of a sudden, he's getting all close and personal with y/n at the FENDI fashion event? ↪ user3: he wants that cookie BADDD user4: he defo is interested in y/n, it's my first time seeing him interact w a female idol this actively AND enthusiastically😭 user5: cannot deny the jeongy/n shippers bc wdym jeongin whispers something to her when their groups passed by each other and y/n was all blushy???

you decided taking a break from social media—and socializing with your seniors—in general was the healthiest option. just a small one-week break. a detox, if you will.

you didn't tell anyone but your fans on weverse.

unfortunately, that left jeongin unceremoniously in the dark—messages and photos left on delivered.

you suppose that's why the events that happened had led up to what was happening now.

the adrenaline of performing was still in your veins as you and your members walked off stage, cheering each other on as you nod and greet the next performers as you guys finally get back to your groups' room.

wanting some time alone with yourself to calm down, you excuse yourself to your group's leader, lying about needing to go to the bathroom.

strolling through the long hallways, you found yourself alone as you try to find a quiet place to rest your mind.

but you suppose life decided there was better—or worse, depending on how you think of it—things for you to experience.

because as you were innocently walking, your arm gets grabbed, pulling you into an unfamiliar room.

assessing the location and random merch they had laying strewn about the room; you quickly piece together that it was Stray Kids' designated room.

looking at the culprit who had pulled you by your arm, you look up wide-eyed.

"oh- jeongin sunbae. . .?"

"did i do something wrong?"

you blinked in confusion.

what is happening?

jeongin's hands hesitantly drag its way to your forearm, "if i did, please tell me."

"i- what? sunbae, what are you talking about? you did nothing wrong." your heart catches in your throat when his hands slide up your arm, slow and steady.

"you ghosted me."

"oh! that? no, sunbae. . . i was on a social media break."

"is that so?" you hum out a 'yes' to his question. "mmm, good."

before you could process it, your head was laying on his chest, his arms caging you in as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"thank god. . ." he muffled into your hair, your body tensing as you suddenly felt him slightly nuzzle in the expanse of your neck.

"jeongin sunbae?"

"i thought you were mad at me."

"mad? at you? i could never be mad at you, sunbae." you blurt out.

pulling away from the comfort of your neck, you look up to face jeongin's gaze.

he still hasn't let go of you, his arms still encasing you close to him.

"really?" he repeated, before you see his eyes dot down below your eyes, then back at you. "never?"

you were unsure of what to say, so nonverbally, you nod.

"don't say i didn't ask you first, y/n."

his hand traveled up to your cheek, before cradling it as he leaned in. he didn't go fully into you, nudging your nose. sensing no negative reaction—and seeing you instinctively lean in slightly as well—he then went in for the kill.

you tasted sweet. tangy. like your makeup artist had applied a flavored lip product on you. it didn't matter though; you'd have to ask them to reapply it again after he was done with you.

jeongin went slow, unhurried as he gauged your reaction, before deepening the kiss as he turned your head. you gasped at the sudden change, the boy using it to slip his tongue into your mouth a little.

both of your hands had started wandering. no heavy petting or groping, just hands fisting clothes tightly and hair grabbing.

your hand stayed tangled on the nape of his hair as he kissed your jaw, making a broken line of wet kisses all the way to your collarbone, before giving it a sudden suck.

"you really are fascinating to me." he mumbled out as he pulled away, looking at the beautiful mess he had created of you.

"jeongin sunbae-"

"just jeongin, please." he merely asked, before tucking a stray hair away from your face.

you nodded, your grin wide and joyous. he grinned back, the intimate moment now turned neutral and wholesome.

all of a sudden, your phone rang.

picking it up, nodding a little as apology to jeongin, he merely smiles back at you.

"y/n-ah, where the HELL are you?" your manager yells through the call, your panic instincts kicking in as you forgot you were only supposed to be gone for a moment.

motioning that you needed to go, the dark-haired boy let you go, only waving goodbye at you, before motioning for you to call.

closing the door and walking through the hallway as you mutter apologies and excuses to your manager, you turn sharply through a corridor and nearly bump into someone.

it was hyunjin. quickly recognizing him, you apologize quickly, the long-haired man merely waving you off as he observed your current frazzled state.

messy hair, scrunched up clothes, no more gloss on your lips.

he chalked it up to you being rushed after performance, so giving you one last goodbye, he walks back to his groups' designated room.

then he sees jeongin. in exactly the same state you were in. except he had lip gloss all over the expanse of his lips, a little smeared.

"oh, hyung. you're here?" the maknae nonchalantly called out, scrolling on his phone.

hyunjin smirked, before sitting next to him on the couch, "yeah, the others are still getting their food. you were alone this whole time?"

"yeah." was jeongin's only answer, his hyung observing every bit of microexpression.

"m'kay. whatever you say." hyunjin smiled.

either way if it was a mere coincidence or something he caught, he was definitely going to tell the others.

ack i miss writing for jeongin so bad. . . gotta get back into the groove ykyk

Ever since his company had forced him to go back to being with braces since his teeth shifted again ('Curse you, JYP' he still says in his head whenever he remembers), Jeongin had noticeably distanced himself from you, his adorable girlfriend.

Don't get him wrong, it's not because of you— never because of you. It wasn't because you did anything, but it was due to the fact that he felt insecure.

His 25 year old self going back to having metal geared onto his teeth made him really feel like he was the 17 year old maknae again, the one who freshly debuted, barely graduated—how he even qualified to graduate, he isn't sure himself—and knew how to whistle scream.

He felt like a kid again. Young. it was kinda funny, he was still in his early 20's for fuck's sake. . . but his sharp jaw and fox-like gaze had finally grown and matured, making him feel more like an adult.

But now? With the tacky colored metal squares glued onto his teeth? Yeah, he thinks he just looks downright silly. Childish, even.

And he thinks you think that too. That he looks younger than he should be to be in a relationship with you.

So, he distances himself.

You were perfectly fine with not seeing your boyfriend everyday.

With his chosen career, being a prolific idol while still having an off-day where you both have all the time in the world felt like an occurence that happens once every blue moon, so you were pretty used to just short updates with him.

Quick calls on the phone about each other's day before Jeongin is needed for practice, or messages randomly sent by him, photos of him, or just a simple 'i miss u :('

But this time? this was different. you could feel it.

Feel it in the way that the already seldom messages he'd sent were even more rare, and even more clipped. No more photos of his face. Just plain 'ily too <3'. Sweet, yeah. but still, suspicious.

The calls you both would share just as long as before. But you know your boyfriend, you know all his tics and habits, and his cheery voice was subtly shielding some sort of sulkiness to it.

You'd tried asking him about it, vaguely pushing and prodding through calm questions.

"Jagiya, did something happen today?" you asked during one of his calls, a short phone call during his practice breaks.

"I— well, no. Not really, baby." he bumbled over his words, a small bout of hesitation in between his sentences.

"You sure, you sound a little. . . different, I guess."

"Oh, that’s— ahem, that's nothing. I'm just a little congested today, so. . . yeah."

"Mhm?" you hum, noncommital.

"Yep."

You were normally extremely patient with him, whenever a small argument happens or a tiny problem occurs you just explain your way in a calm tone.

But after watching the recent fancams of him during his group's performance of their latest album, you couldn't help but push yourself to do something after seeing it. Because when the dance was over and he could stop smiling?

His grinning face slowly dropped, his gaze to the floor. Reserved. Muted. Like his mind was hung up on something he didn’t know how to shut out.

So, you do something Jeongin had never expected you—his sweet and egregiously patient girlfriend—to do.

“I— hey. . .?” Chan’s voice is a mix of confusion and familiarity as he opened the dorm’s entrance, seeing his maknae’s girlfriend.

“Innie didn’t say you were coming for dinner,” his brows a little furrowed, but he let you in, the door closing shut.

Without wasting any time, you turn to him, ordering, “Listen, I really don’t want you guys to get caught in the crossfire right now, so I think you guys should go to any of the other dorms.”

Your face showed nothing but sincerity, but Chan could tell that your thinly veiled politeness was on the breaking point.

He didn’t know what Jeongin did to make you irritated like that; you’re normally quite reserved when it came to him, their precious fox-like member. So, without nothing but a no, he walks in to the living room faster than you do.

You hear the other members’ voice, Hyunjin calling out, “Hey! C’mon hyung, the dinner’s getting cold.”

“Yeah, let’s eat hyung, I don’t wanna eat cold chickennn. . .” someone whines. You could tell it was Han. You’d chuckle if you weren’t so hellbent on your mission.

“Guys, we need to go.” Chan’s voice is a little hurried, panicked even.

A cacophony of ‘what’ and ‘why’ had filled the room, until you walk into view, your arms crossed and observing each and every member until you find the one you're looking for.

“Oh,” Minho calls your name in slight surprise, “you’re here!”

You don’t respond, finally locking eyes with the man you were looking for, his gaze wide-eyed, unaware of what was to come.

“Yang Jeong-In.”

The easygoing vibe that had permeated throughout the dorm had been cut short. Your short, no-bullshit call of his name had made everyone's actions pause, wide-eyed.

Most of them were unsure of what to do, action's paused, but the latter?

"Y'know what I think we should just eat in me and Jisung's dorm—"

"Yeah, that's a great plan, hyung—"

"I'll get the plates, that seems like a splendid idea—"

They were scattered, utensils clattering as they tried their best to scurry off with most of the food, leaving their dear maknae in the dust, giving only a mere pat on the back and a 'good luck' before they nod to you, closing the dorm's door.

He was scared stiff, to say the least.

Jeongin was sat up straight, his eyes following you as you walk up to him, arms crossed as he tried his best to act cool.

"H-hey, baby. . ." his words were let out with a slight tremble, his hands hesitantly placed on your waist, unsure if it was the right thing to sweet-talk with you.

It was not.

"Why are you avoiding me?" you prodded, unphased by his sugar-talking.

"What?" his brows furrowed, "I'm— i'm not doing anything,"

"Stop lying to me, Jeongin." your neutral voice, plus with your compliance with using his government name instead of what you usually call him had his head sulking down, pulling you into him.

He sighed deeply, his breath shaky.

As much as you wanted to act more stonehearted, your hard exterior can't help but crumble when he pulled you closer. Kneeling down to be eye-level with him, your voice went soft.

"Innie," you coo, your hands coming to cup his face, directing it to meet yours. His eyes refused to meet eye-contact with you, his demeanor almost. . . embarrassed?

"I can't keep being in a relationship with you if you can't communicate with me properly what I did wrong. . ." you explain, his aura shifting into desperation, meeting your gaze with shock and plea.

"No!" he weakly calls, his hands coming to cup yours as you kept holding his face. His panic had rose when you mentioned that you didn't want to be in a relationship with him.

"Please don't leave. Jagiya. . ." he whined, his face leaning into one of your palms, eyes shut as he basked in the warmth of your hand.

"Then tell me what I did, dummy."

"It's. . . It's not you, per se, but. . . it's me." he mumbled into your hand, loud enough for you to hear it.

You look at him deadpan, eyebrow raised that told him 'are you being fucking for real right now?'

"Are you really pulling that shit with me right now, Yang Jeongin?"

"I swear! I- I swear it's true. . ." He gripped your hands a bit tighter, "It's just. . . I don't like me."

"You don't like. . . you?"

"The braces. I don't like the braces. It. . . God, it makes me look so. . . so weird. Like, I'm 25 for fuck's sake," he explained, exasperated as he looked up and tried to find the right words.

Your body went a little slack as he continued, your heart going soft.

"I thought you'd find me, weird. I mean, the other's do! They've been babying me even more ever since I got them back on," he scoffed, "And. . . and I didn't want you to think that I was this- this kid, I just," he sighed, pulling you close to lean his head on your chest.

"I didn't want you to see me like this. I thought you'd leave."

You could hear his small sniffles. Your smile grew as you finally understood the situation.

Your hands were free from his limp grasp, raising them to scratch his back, and play with the nape of his hair, running your fingers through the locks as you let him breathe you in.

"Y'know, for someone who's not in Paboracha, you seem like you'd be a perfect member, jagiya."

"Hey!" he lifted his head in annoyance, meeting your eyes.

"What? It's true." you chuckled. You cup his face, thumb brushing his lips down slightly to show to yourself the shiny metal geared into his mouth. "Do you really think I'd leave you for this?"

He didn't reply, ashamed that he thought so.

You leaned into his face, kissing slowly around his lips, then his eyes, then his cheeks. Not rushed, but firm enough to leave a warmth in its wake.

You pulled away to see your boyfriend's irritated face, pouting his lips to show you where he wanted to be kissed the most.

So, you did.

Soft, tentative pecks had been placed on his lips by yours, before you deepened the last one, hard enough for him to grab onto your waist to steady himself.

"Yang Jeong-In. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with me, no matter what you do to your stupid face." you kiss him one more time.

"But I thought you liked kissing my stupid face." he retorts.

"Oh, I'd like to do more than just kiss it, baby. . ."

The kisses shared between you and him had turned more sensual as they continued, your legs caging his as you straddle him, his hands wandering your body as yours ruffled through his hair.

"Mmm," he hummed into the kiss when you had adjusted yourself on his lap.

You'd merely changed your seating position, yet he jolted a little from the friction.

His hands grip had settled on your waist, gripping a little firmer as he pulled away.

"Jagiya, it feels. . . weird," he vaguely states.

"What feels weird, baby?" you ask innocently, quickly understanding what he meant, but you'd rather he spit it out.

You grind down on his lap again, finding the seam of his sweatpants growing under you.

He let out a slight hiss from the friction again, before letting out a shaky, "That. It makes me want to. . ."

You didn't need him to finish his words, merely burying yourself in the crook of his porcelain neck, starting to suck and bite.

"Hah! I— jagiya, wait a sec. . ." with every suck and nibble that you leave on his neck, a desperate whimper dies in his throat.

What makes it even worse is that kept grinding on him, the tent in his pants noticeably larger.

"Innie-ah, do you maybe wanna. . ." you whisper in his ear, saccharine and full of need.

"I— Now? We're on the couch!" he pulls you away from his neck, making you face his flushed face.

"No?" you sulk, your expression pouty as you wrapped your arms our his shoulders.

"Jagi, someone could come in," he reasoned, but your whiny demeanor didn't fall.

You knew he would fold.

He sighed deeply. You smiled, already knowing his answer.

"I. . . just once, if we do it quickly."

Safe to say that what happened after was not just once, and it definitely was not done quickly.

BONUS ENDING ;

so. . . yeah im surprised i was even aware enough while i was drinking to write this lol, anyway braces jeongin pls come back the kids miss u—

this was only supposed to be a small part 2 to my imagine, but i lowkey would want to make more smau's of this jeongin like this, would u guys want more in general or more of this? idk :PP

ah. there it is.

jeongin's shoulders sag, sulking at the question. he should've known where this conversation as going.

"ahh, halmeoni. . . i'm a singer, remember? i don't really have time for that—"

the older woman's voice booms through the phone, the clicking on her tongue evident that she wasn't taking a roundabout no for an answer.

"when you find the right one, jeongin-ah, you will always want to make time for her, no matter the problem."

and maybe, just maybe, his grandmother would be right.

he finally found the right time, the right window of opportunity to visit his dear grandmother.

it was supposed to be a surprise, knocking on his childhood home door with a suppressed giggle at the expected joy he'd get, already expecting the scolding but caring voice, saying, "why didn't you call in advance, jeongin-ah? i would've prepared something special".

what he didn't expect, though, was for him to be the one caught off-guard.

the door swings open, showing someone significantly younger than his grandmother, clad in his grandmother's gingham patterned apron, standing like a deer in headlights.

your face pauses, until you blink profusely at a revelation.

"oh. . .!" you visibly light up, like a lightbulb had finally gone off in your head. "you're her grandson, right?"

"uh, yes. hello," he greets, bowing formally, unsure of what to do. "is. . . she here?"

"ah. . ." you vocalize, before shrugging nervously. "she went out earlier for her daily walk, actually, heh. . ."

"do you want to come in?"

he isn't sure what to feel.

he normally felt so used to being here. but with an unfamiliar—well, not necessarily unfamiliar with how much his grandmother talked about you—person here in the house, he felt like a fish out of water.

he felt small as he sat on one of the dining table chairs, your own self busy at work, frying a few vegetables, stirring, focused.

"so. . ." you draw the word out, "you're a singer, right?"

he's a little surprised at the ice-breaker. he thought you'd be closed off, but maybe his grandmother was right.

"ah, yeah. i'm actually an idol." he blurted out, nodding eagerly.

he knows he shouldn't be dropping those words as easily as he just did. god, you could literally be some weirdo trying to get close to him via his sweet grandma, but he couldn't help but be honest when he looks at you.

you nod back at him, smiling genuinely as you say, "oh, that's nice. makes sense too, especially with your good looks."

he chokes a little on his spit. he quickly collects himself.

"i- thank you."

"don't mention it. just stating the obvious." you smirk.

his ears feel warm. he touches one of them in habit, maybe a way to calm his mind.

you're really pretty. even in his grandmother's memorable but vile-colored apron. your hair is held back so it doesn't fall in the food, but a few strands fall to frame your face.

"so, what do you do?"

"i'm a teacher here at the local kindergarten, actually." you shrink a little at his unintentionally fierce gaze, focusing your sights on cooking the food properly.

"it's a little bit embarrassing compared to your job, now that i think about it—"

"it's not."

"huh?" you pause, your eyes meeting his.

your sight connects with his for a mere moment, before he looks down at his fingers.

"it's a really important job, y'know. . ." his hands fidget on the table, "teaching kids at such a developmental age is pretty cool."

"aww," you smile at his compliment. "thanks, you're sweet."

"it's— ahem, it's nothing."

the conversation flows freely, talking about anything, ranging from how you deal with rowdy children to what he experiences with his career.

before you both knew it, the door clicks open, jeongin's grandmother walking into view.

it goes exactly as he expected—a warm embrace from her, talking about how she missed him so much, and an immediate scolding for not informing her.

you observe him while it all happens, just there. smiling. grinning.

he finds that it makes his heart feel fuzzy when he glances at you.

you greet his grandmother—who's also your neighbor—once more, before reminding everyone that the food is gonna get cold, ushering everyone to sit.

the food's already on the table as you continue to chat, your body instinctively going to sit at the seat you always go for to sit across from his grandmother, which just so happens to be next to his chair.

the meal is warm and tastes nostalgic in the dark-haired boy's mouth, subconsciously sagging his shoulders in relaxation.

you notice it from your peripheral vision. you chuckle a little.

the house is filled with regular silence as you eat, the only thing making noise is the constant clanking of utensils and bowls.

jeongin's grandmother decides to add more to the noise.

"so. . . jeongin,"

"mmm, halmeoni?" he hums, a bite of rice in his mouth.

"did you know she's a kindergarten teacher?" she points to you, the attention of everyone suddenly on you makes you shrink a little.

"ah, halmeoni, i already told him that. . . haha," you let out a faux laugh, a little unsure of where she was going with this.

jeongin agrees with you, nodding as he takes a sip of his water.

"oh, okay. . . did she also tell you she's single?"

he sputters out his water, choking as he tries to cough. instinctively, you pat his back. "are you okay?" you ask, trying to hide your grin.

"h-hal— cough! halmeoni. . ." his voice is hoarse from choking, unable to defend himself.

"what? i'm just saying, jeongin-ah. you're not getting any older and i'm not getting any younger. . ."

"ah. . . i think he can't speak right now, halmeoni." you reply for him, smiling politely.

as much as you didn't want to be on his grandmother's side, you weren't entirely opposed to the idea. ever since his grandmother had started talking about him to you, you were interested.

now, seeing him in person and seeing his personality—and his incredibly handsome face—in person, you weren't sure if you had it in you now to reject the idea. so, you try to sway his grandmother instead.

"and i don't think he really wants to, i wouldn't want to force him—"

"no! i—" with one last cough and pat to his chest, he tries his best to collect himself.

"it's, it's okay."

"really?" your eyebrows raise a little, caught off-guard.

"yeah, it's. . . i wouldn't mind." he nods, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

"well. . ." you let out a slight breathy laugh, "if you want to, then sure."

"oh, i want to. don't worry."

his smile is mischievous. like he's doing something he shouldn't be. well, technically, he is—sorry jyp, forgive him—but you don't know that. and the company doesn't need to know also.

"i. . . uh," you nod to compose yourself, "great, then. i'll give you my number after this."

"thank you."

jeongin almost forgets that his grandmother was still here. keyword, almost.

"i want grandchildren in 3 years, okay, jeongin-ah?"

"ugh, halmeoni!" he groans in embarrassment, hiding his face in his bowl.

you laugh out loud at the directness from his grandmother, cheeks warm, flushed. he likes hearing and seeing you laugh, and with how you guys will be from now on, he hopes he'll see it more.

and subcosciously in his mind, he says to himself,

'thank you, halmeoni!!!"

part 2 ; possible future bf!

so. . . lowkey wanna make smau imagines to this. . . LOWKEY HIGHKEY HUEHUEEHU it's so hard writing on a phone dude, pls unban the tumblr website pleek😭

"this is seriously going to fuck with my idol image."

"don't be too sad about it, baby." you coo as he looks up at you, eyes glassy as if he would almost cry from irritation. god, he looks so good like this.

you never thought you'd ever see your boyfriend with a metal-clad smile ever again, the phase a momentary era of his to be remembered fondly, so you were (secretly) overjoyed when he had to. you remember him calling you a few days ago with a sulky voice, saying:

"jagiya, they're making me go back to braces. braces! this is ridiculous! this day is literally the worst day of my life. anyway, what did you eat today?"

cut back to the present, you still try to hide your enjoyment over this whole 'braces being the end of the fucking world' debacle jeongin was still spiraling in.

"i bet the STAY's would be more than overjoyed to have their cute innie back." you tease, hand still scratching at his hair.

"but that's not what i want, jagiyaaaa. . ." he sulked, head falling to your chest.

you sigh fondly at his upset state.

you want to make him better. make him feel better.

and that's exactly what you do.

grabbing his chin with your free hand, you move and caress his cheek softly. "innie, you know what i think?"

"hmm?" he hums, focused on your eyes, then flitting to your lips, then back at you again.

"i think they're hot."

his face pauses, then he smiles, sincere and full of shyness. his grin shows the thing he was despising a few moments ago, the shiny metal on each tooth glinting in the low light of his room's bedside lamp.

"really?" he asks, his head pushing into your hand holding his jaw.

"mhm," you shut up any more of jeongin's retorts as you pull him in for a kiss, soft and chaste, until you stuck your tongue in his mouth.

he twitched a little at the intrusion, before he hummed out a moan as you licked his teeth, you tongue dragging through his braces.

you continue to makeout with him, his confidence growing as he reciprocates the action.

it's a messy scene, saliva exchanged and breaths intermingled, but both of you don't care.

you pull away first, jeongin zeroed in at the saliva string still connecting the both of you, before breaking.

"is that enough proof for you that i think they're hot on you?"

he grins, "hmm, i dunno. . . i think you should do it again, just for good measure." his fox-like eyes piercing through yours as he pulls you in for another messy make out.

this is kind of a 'sorry' cause i haven't finished the jisung fic. . . huehuehue anyway, i am literally so fueled for jeongin rn, he is literally so UGHHHH

Jeongin has been known by literally almost anyone who's watched a single piece of video content of Stray Kids that he doesn't like being touchy.

Like, an arm over his shoulder by his hyungs is fine. A quick hug? Sure, why not. A head on his lap? Ehh. . . he'll tolerate it.

But he'll cringe outwardly. and everyone will know he's uncomfortable by it. He just. . . doesn't like getting touched, a lot.

One would think he'd be an absolute nightmare when it comes to makeup artists doing his makeup. But no! Surprisingly not.

Why? well, because his makeup artist is you.

When you weren't his makeup artist back then, the person who would be doing his facial makeup would have to deal with his constant flinches.

Don't get the wrong idea, though. He isn't flinching away 'because he doesn't like their touch.

He just. . . doesn't like getting touched. By anyone. Period.

It felt like going through a literal military-exercise in his head when it came to Jeongin with trying to stop himself from subconsciously flinching away when the makeup artist had to lift his chin or grab his cheek to adjust them.

But when you came?

It was like a breath of fresh air when you first did his makeup.

You were a new hire, hand-picked specifically by their manager. You checked all their requirements with flying colors. Someone who did their client's makeup efficiently, perfectly, and—most importantly—with the least amount of skin ship from you as possible.

The first time you came into the backstage, you were immediately assigned to Jeongin, who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone until you had walked up to him, bowing and formally introducing yourself.

He had smiled and politely greeted you back, his attitude carefree and relaxed. But inside? he was letting out a deep sigh, his mind groaning, 'oh shit, here we go again' as he starts to ready himself to stop flinching for the next 20 to 30 minutes.

But when you had started doing his makeup, you hadn't even touched him once. And it just. . . kept going like that.

Most makeup artists would have already grabbed his chin to move him every once in a while, but you? You'd adjust for him. You would move around his chair flawlessly, as if you were floating around him.

You need to move his face? You use the tip of your makeup brush, or you softly coax him into the direction you want him to face.

Anything to not touch him. To make him uncomfortable.

It felt. . . nice. Like he had finally been able to let out a deep breath he never knew he was holding.

And it showed. As much as he thought this was only in his head, it definitely was not.

As a result, "SKZ—TALKER" episodes had more clips of him getting his makeup done, and even more clips of him dozing off from being too comfortable getting his makeup done were posted.

And the STAY's? They obviously noticed.

user1 : aww jeongin being super comfortable with the makeup artist is acc so sweet :(( ↪ user2 : he literally MELTED your honor, omggg user3 : more clips of innie finally getting the right makeup artist given to him? yes please user4 : imagine being SOO good at your job that someone who is literally known for being so reluctant to touch by strangers is super pliant in your care. . . im dead user5 : give that makeup artist a raise right NEOWWW we're getting so many innie makeup clips bc of her GODDKDJDAJ

But what they didn't notice—or what they thankfully cut out in the videos—was how he looked at you when you did his makeup.

It wasn't news to you that Yang Jeongin had an intense stare. He was known for his signature animal being a fox, for Christ's sake. His stare was literally made for models, with their sharp gazes and whatnot.

But even with that information, it still gave you an involuntary chill down your spine whenever he stared at you when you did his makeup.

Eyes sharp and focused. Not glaring, but concentrated. On what? You're honestly not sure—his eyes would dart to your eyes, then your lips—and you really hope he would stop doing it.

Recently, you've started directing his face away from you even more, pushing his face to the left or right with the end of your makeup brush almost every time he tried looking at you in the eyes.

His stare was getting to you. It was embarrassing, knowing that someone who was your client was just looking at you, but you already felt a little hot under your collar, your cheeks feeling warm under your mask. So, you'd push his face away to make him stop staring under the guise of getting the right powder placement on his cheeks.

You thought he wouldn't notice.

But he did.

And he finally had enough of it.

"Look that way please, Jeongin." you pointed to his left, your tone was formal. Polite. Distant.

He didn't like it.

He obeyed anyways.

"Mua-ssi, do you not like me?" he spoke low after a while of silence, like he didn't want anyone but you to hear.

The nickname was a bit silly, but you'd rather have him call you that than your real name. It felt rather too personal when he called you your first name. Too intimate.

"Hmm?" your hand had stopped brushing on a whisper of powder on the corner of his eyes for a millisecond. "Why would you think that Jeongin-ah?"

He wanted to pout at your absent-minded tone, like his question was something trivial.

He wanted you to notice him. Focus on him.

Turning back to look into your gaze, your movements stopped. "You always make me look away from you."

Your eyes crinkled, your voice starting to become nuanced from the formal tone you used before. "That's cause I'm trying to reach the right spot on your face."

"But you're always doing it. . ." His focused gaze seemed morph into a pouty one, looking down at his fidgeting fingers.

You smiled under your mask. "I'm just doing my job, Jeongin-ah," you leaned back into his space, thinking this conversation was over. But it wasn't.

"I know," He faced you again, his fox-like eyes focused onto you, giving you that specific gaze that made your knees want to buckle. "But that means I don't get to look at you."

You let out a chuckle of disbelief, "Oh, I. . . you—" you stumbled over your words, ". . . Just shut it." your voice was involuntarily shaky.

Trying to end this weird interaction, your free hand made it to his chin, your index and thumb directing him to look away gently as you continued doing your job.

You saw his smirk. His eyes not on you, but you could tell they looked like they were victorious.

You were both regretful and thankful that you had your mask on. It felt like you were running a fever with how warm your cheeks were. Your neck felt hot.

God, this was annoyingly hot.

And Jeongin? He was enjoying the ripe of his victory. All he could focus on was your hand still steady on his chin, until you stopped.

For once in his idol career, he had never wanted to be touched by a makeup artist more than you.

And he did as much as he could so you would.

Trying to tease and rile you up just so you could finally have enough and subconsciously push his gaze away from you, your hand warm on chin.

Jeongin liked seeing you like that. Flustered and shy, trying to stop him so you could properly do your job, your eyes blinking away the nervousness.

He should've been content with that. But he wasn't.

He wanted more.

Which was what had led you to what happened today.

It was day one of shooting for the music video for the group's new song, so it was already known that it would be hectic as fuck.

What made it worse was that you were one of the two makeup artists that were available.

The other six makeup artists had fallen seriously ill or had an unavoidable event that they couldn't miss. Bummer. So, here you were, constantly on your feet, doing touch-ups of every member of Stray Kids in each video take.

You were so focused in on doing the other member's makeup and the whirlwind of noisy chaos of the set, that you didn't even notice Jeongin's intense glare.

Not directed at you. Never at you. But his eyes couldn't stop glaring at your touch coming so easy onto his hyungs.

Like right now.

You were currently zeroed in on Hyunjin, your hand steadying his face by gently grabbing his chin as you swipe a dab of lip gloss onto his lips.

That wasn't what made Jeongin act. What made him act was how comfortable you were.

Hyunjin was looking at you. Staring into your eyes as you did your job, and you? Your eyes were crinkled, smiling as you focused. You were relaxed by his gaze. Or better yet—which was what Jeongin was hoping for—you were unfazed.

He wasn't going to be called by the video director to be in a take for a while, so he took the chance to scheme.

Subtly rubbing off the product on his lips, making sure no one was watching him, he had called your name, then said you needed to help him with his lips.

Not your nickname. Your actual name. Your heart jumped. That was the first sign you should've known that something was off.

You turned at his call and replied that you'll be there. As you focused back onto Hyunjin's lips, you could see the morph of his neutral lips form into a smirk.

"What's so funny?" you ask, your tone absent-minded as usual, concentrated on finishing his lip makeup.

"He has a crush on you," Hyunjin's nonchalant tone had caught you off-guard, your hands stopping what they were doing. "It's cute watching him try to make you notice him."

"Huh?" you paused, but your heart skipped a beat.

"Mua-ssi. . .!" Jeongin called, not hurried in the sense that he was impatient, but merely confused at the lack of presence.

You turned to the noise. Hyunjin chuckled. "Go, he wants to see you."

You quickly walked to the quiet corner where Jeongin was waiting for you, trying to block out Hyunjin's words from worming back into your mind.

The corner where he had been waiting was secluded, and when he saw you, you could feel the twinkle in his eyes when he saw your presence.

Cute. But you'd never say that out loud.

He stood up and walked over to you, pointing to his lips to gesture how he lost the product on them, his smile turning bashful, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

You sighed, then leaned into his personal space. You were close to his lips, applying product like normal, but you kept your hands close to you, only tilting his chin up with your makeup brush.

Everything was going well, until you looked at his eyes.

He looked weirdly upset, his eyes somehow downturned.

"What's wrong, Jeongin-ah?" you took a step back—well, you tried to, until Jeongin's hand had grabbed your wrist, lifting your hand to meet his eyes.

The shock had kept you in place. Are you having a hallucination? Is this real?

"Why do you not touch me, Mua-ssi?" he dipped his face into the palm of your hand, his voice mumbled as you felt his lips move, his eyes shut, like he was trying to bask in the feeling of touching you.

"Ah. . . J- Jeongin," you tried to say more, but your nerves were on fire with his constant touch, making you distracted.

"Seeing you touch Hyunjin hyung so easily. . ." you felt him melt into your touch.

"It makes me upset, noona." the sudden nickname sparked a flame in the pit of your stomach, swirling wih a feeling you weren't sure was good.

He leaned into you, taking a step closer. But you took a step back, your free hand on his chest to stop him, but that seemed to just spur him on.

Jeongin-ah. . ." your voice was unsteady, your head tilted down to look at anything, anything but him.

He took another step closer to you, your hand applying no pressure to stop him.

"Noona, look at me," he leaned into you, "Please."

Going against your better thoughts, you did as he begged, unable to reject his order. Looking up hesitantly, you were met with focused eyes boring into yours.

But you could see the sadness in them.

Your hand was still stuck to Jeongin's cheek, his hand caging yours in a warm entanglement.

"I want you to touch me more, Mua-ssi." he said, with only a small bit of embarrassment in his tone.

You didn't know what to say.

Hell, is this real?

"Just like how I see you touching my hyungs so brazenly."

"I. . . Jeongin-ah, fine. I'll touch you more when I do your makeup." you quickly said, before wriggling your hand away from his warm grasp, then patting his outfit down.

"Now, let's go, the director is probably trying to find you—" you babbled as you tried to walk away, but a firm grab of your shoulder and a gentle push of your back to the wall had knocked the breath out of you.

"Not just when you do my makeup, Noona," he continued, his lips parting then closing, trying to find the right words. "But more than that."

". . . Like what?"

His hand that grabbed your shoulder had creeped up to your neck, his touch feeling hot as it grazed the skin, before slotting it under your chin. "Like this."

You still had a mask on, and you weren't sure anymore if it was because of Jeongin or the mask you were wearing was the reason that you were having a hard time regulating your breathing.

He leaned in for just a few centimeters, he looked at your lips, then flitted back at your eyes. "Is this, okay?"

With nothing in your mind but the moment, you nod.

You didn't know if you leaned in, but his lips had reached yours, the only barrier between them was your cloth mask. Your hands were tense at first, but you all but melted at the contact.

It was only for a moment.

He pulled back, checking your expression. If only he could take a picture of you like this, pupils blown out and shoulders sagged.

But Jeongin was a busy man, needed almost immediately after he pulled away.

He could hear it, the faint shout of the director, "Where is Jeongin?! I need him for this take!"

He turned to the noise, then looking back at you. As if nothing ever happened, he morphed back into the sly fox maknae that Stray Kids was known for, his cheeky smile directed at you.

"Guess that's my cue, huh. . . too bad." he mused.

Pulling his hand away from your face, he quickly took your relaxed hand, bringing it to his lips, giving a quick peck.

"Don't forget what I said, mua-ssi."

And just like that, he walked away.

You were left to bask in your own thoughts, your fingers touching the place where he had kissed.

"Where's mua-ssi? Mua-ssi!"

Hearing the staff's shout for you in urgency had switched off your brain from thinking entirely, putting you back into work mode.

But as you work your way through the day, as you touch up more of the Stray Kids' members makeup, you subconsciously touch them less with your hands, the moment and words from Jeongin earlier still fresh in your mind.

But that was for you to think about another day, when things weren't so hectic, and Jeongin had more time to cage you in again, whether you liked it or not.

BONUS TRACK ♬⋆.˚

"Mua-ssi," Changbin called as you patted away the sweat on his forehead to touch up his face, with you humming in reply. "Why is there some lip product on your mask?"

"Huh?" you paused.

The other members were close together, focused on practicing the dance in their heads, or just scrolling on their phones. But when Seo Changbin had boldly stated that odd question, they had decided that listening in secretly was a better pastime.

Your mind had finally connected the words you wanted to say to your mouth, with you quickly sputtering out, "Ah, this? This is nothing, hah. . ." you waved your hand around dismissively.

"Really?" He leaned in closer to you, "It kind of looks like it's in the shape of a kiss mark, though—"

Quickly clapping your hands together, you blurt out, "Y'know what, maybe I should change my mask, I don't want my mask to be messy and all. . ."

You walk away quickly, escaping with your tail between your legs and your feet speedwalking away.

When you had finally turned to a corner out of sight, the members had looked at each other, a knowing glint in their eyes as they flitted from each other's gazes, then to their maknae, who was currently doing a video take.

Bang Chan chuckled, "Huh, never knew he was that brave." he mused, his head shaking in disbelief. The other's followed suit, saying their own opinions about it.

"He really took 'Maknae on Top' seriously,"

"That's kinda gross. Cute, but gross."

"How and when did he get the balls to do that?"

"To think he was gonna be a priest, diabolical behavior."

"Ahhh, this one's a juicy question. . ." the MC interviewer had mused, her face turning cheshire-cat-like as she grinned.

"Wah, I'm nervous," Jeongin patted his chest, his body was tense, but his face showed otherwise, his charming smile flashing through the glint of the camera's flickering red light.

He was currently in a one-on-one interview in a variety show, the presence of his hyungs absent, making him a little antsy from the start when he had walked in and greeted the interviewer.

It wasn't until your name was suddenly mentioned by the MC, in which Jeongin's body language had seemed to concentrate even more on the interviewer, his head tilting.

"Can you please explain how you two. . ." the interviewer's hand seemed to gesture while she read the question card, as if trying to find the right words to convey, "Came to be connected with one another? "

The raven-haired idol had sighed dreamily. A small huff to show he was relieved. But it was more to cover his nervous mind. Jeongin wasn't born yesterday, he knew what the MC was implying with the question's vague wording. And the fact that he was put on the spot like that with no preparation gave him a small bit of verbal whiplash.

"Oh. . .!" he called your name with a certain endearing tone to it, before quickly chaining it with the "Noona" suffix.

"Chan-hyung had actually introduced me to her, they were friends in elementary school, and surprisingly me and Noona had a lot in common when we talked,"

That was a lie. Well, a half-lie. You were a old friend of Chan, and he had introduced you to him when you came to visit him for their latest comeback.

Jeongin had all but bombarded you with lovesick-puppy eyes and stumbled over his own questions that you couldn't help but fall for his nervous self when he timorously asked if he could take you out on a date some time, even with his hectic idol schedule.

"Now, we're kind of like long-distance friends 'cause my schedule's been so busy," the MC had hummed as he talked, Jeongin gesturing with his hands as he tried to word his sentence as vague and as media trained as possible.

"She's. . . just like my older sister, we're pretty close."

"Aww," The interviewer cooed at the wholesome turn his answer went to. "That's actually quite sweet."

"Yeah," he sighed out, his smile beaming at the compliment as he let out a slight chuckle. "Thank you."

Yeah, right.

You snorted and paused the YouTube video on the television. Just as you did, Jeongin had walked into the room, drying his hair with a towel.

"What are you watching?"

"See for yourself, baby." you smirked as you pointed the remote to the big television.

His sleepy eyes had drifted to you, then to the large screen, immediately recognizing his face and the interviewer, letting out a groan as.

"Why are you watching that?" he plopped down on the couch next to you, expecting to feel some sort of physical touch with you, but as soon as he sunk into the plump furniture, you scooted yourself away from the far side of the couch, hugging the arm.

"Ah-ah-ah. . .!" you tutted, "We're just friends, Innie."

He sighed out a smile, shaking his head. He doesn't ever hear you use that name, well—not when you're in public, that is—only when you want to rile him up.

"I'm also your Noona, remember? and we don't do things like that," you used your own words against him, but while you spoke, he grabs your wrist, pulling you to him.

It's as if you were made from the same cut, your body moving fluidly against his as he pulled you to his lap, your legs on either side of his, trapping him between you.

"And just like you said, I'm like your older sister, Innie-ah." you smiled as you put your hands on his shoulders, the ridges of his body fitting perfectly with yours as you move your wrist up and down the expanse of his broad shoulders.

"But you're not," he smiled as he leaned in to touch his nose with yours, just a graze of your lips touching his.

He tried to lean in, finally taste your lips against his, but you ducked your chin, pulling away as he tried to chase you, his eyes flitting to your lips, then to your eyes.

"But I could be," you smiled.

"But you're not." he ducked his head to finally meet your lips. You meet him halfway. the kiss was chaste, for only a mere moment, up until Jeongin's hand that was on your waist had crawled up your spine and to the nape of your neck, cradling it as he deepened the kiss.

He pulled away, only to kiss the shape of your jaw, before kissing right back to where he came from.

You gasped at the sudden change, suddenly opening your mouth, he used it to indulge himself, licking his tongue into yours. You could hear the vibration of his moan when you allowed him to.

Now, that made your thighs clench.

Better yet, you accidentally buck into him, the body under you responding in a positive, Jeongin pulling away his eyes absent with nothing but you as his focal point.

He ducked his head, placing his head into the valley of your chest as he pulled you in for a hug, you presumed.

Your hands traveled to the back of his neck, slightly tugging and playing with the stray hairs.

He held you for a few seconds, his arms swaying just a little bit.

You grinned.

This was wholesome, domestic even.

Until he had raised his head, only to leave small kisses and nips on the open expanse of your clavicle.

His hands caressed each side of your hips, lazy doodles of circles. "Can we. . ." was all you heard, his words mumbled as he talked while he took an experimental bite at your skin.

"Ah," you hissed. As much as you wanted him to keep going, you tugged at his hair, pulling him away from going further. "What was that, Innie?"

As you asked, he seemed to whine, his head going back to kiss your clavicle. Eventually, he sighed and looked back up at you.

"Can we go further. . .?" he trailed off, his lust-filled eyes meeting yours. As his words shyly made its way out of his mouth, his hands had subtly dropped, driving dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

You grinned as you looked down at him, your hand still gripping his hair. "Ah! use the right honorifics, baby." you teased, which only seemed to make Jeongin groan, as he dove back into devouring your neck.

"Oh, please," you retorted, running your fingers through his scalp, "Don't act like this isn't turning you on."

Your hips had ground down on his painfully obvious hard-on, the shape completely seen through his gray sweatpants.

"Ngh!—" he whimpered, his head lolling back in surprised pleasure. Now his hands were definitely on your ass, his large hands gripping the soft plush globes.

". . .N-Noona."

"Hmm?" you hummed sweetly, acknowledging his use of honorifics.

"Can I please fuck you?"

And who were you to say no when he asked so nicely?