KQ stan

The soft glow of your phone illuminated the dimly lit room, the only light cutting through the late-night quiet of your tiny apartment. You flopped back on your bed, sighing as you stared at the screen, reading through the last text you had exchanged with Junmin.

[junminie 💓] Good morning, love! Just finished the first shoot. How’s your day going? I miss you so much already…

That message had come hours ago, but your reply was left unread—probably because he was still busy with his hectic schedule. Being an idol meant he barely had time to breathe, let alone check his phone during a packed day of interviews, performances, and fan meetings. Still, you couldn’t help but feel the emptiness without his texts or calls.

"Ugh," you groaned, pulling the covers over your head. You missed him more than words could express. It had only been a few days since Junmin had flown out to Japan with his group, Xikers, for their schedules, but it felt like forever. The two of you had been dating for a few months now, and you’d quickly become inseparable—texting, calling, and spending every free moment together. Now, all you had were the little pings on your phone to keep you close.

Just as you were about to close your eyes and try to sleep, your phone buzzed on your bedside table. Your heart skipped a beat.

[junminie 💓] Are you awake?

Smiling, you quickly typed a reply.

[you] Yes, still awake. Miss you.

A few moments passed, and then your phone rang. The familiar name lit up the screen: Junmin. You immediately answered, your heart lifting just at the sound of his voice.

"Hey," his voice came through, a little tired but full of warmth. "Sorry I couldn’t text back earlier. We’ve been non-stop since this morning."

"I figured," you said softly, adjusting the pillow behind your head. "How are you holding up? You sound exhausted."

Junmin let out a low chuckle. "I’m tired, but hearing your voice makes it better. I’ve missed you so much today. This schedule is brutal."

"I’ve missed you too," you admitted, your voice small. "It’s weird not seeing you every day."

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "The members won’t stop teasing me about how much I talk about you. They say I’m whipped, but I don’t care."

Your heart fluttered at his words. “Oh really? What exactly are you telling them about me?”

Junmin laughed, his voice lightening as he said, "They know everything. Minjae keeps imitating me when I’m texting you. It’s so annoying, but I guess I deserve it."

You could practically hear the grin in his voice. "Is that so? You should tell Minjae that teasing you won’t stop me from missing you."

"I’ll let him know," Junmin chuckled, and you could hear the sound of voices in the background. “Speaking of the devil—hold on, Minjae’s here.”

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line, followed by another voice suddenly popping into the conversation. “Y/n! Is that you?” It was Minjae, as loud and energetic as always.

“Hi, Minjae!” you greeted him, smiling at how easy it was to get along with Xiker's members. They had all been super supportive of your relationship from the start, even though you were just a regular college student and Junmin was an idol.

“You won’t believe how whipped Junmin is over here,” Minjae teased loudly. “He’s been staring at his phone like a lovesick puppy all day. We were starting to get worried.”

“Hey! That’s not true,” Junmin protested, his voice muffled as though he was trying to pull the phone back from Minjae.

“Oh, it’s totally true,” another voice chimed in—it sounded like Yechan this time. “We had to physically take his phone away during the rehearsal.”

You burst out laughing, imagining Junmin’s flustered expression as his members piled on the teasing. “You guys are mean,” you said between giggles.

“No, but seriously, he talks about you all the time,” Yechan continued. “It’s kinda cute, though.”

"Alright, alright, give me my phone back," Junmin’s voice returned, followed by the sound of him wrestling the phone back from his members.

"Sorry about them," Junmin apologized, sounding slightly embarrassed but also amused. “You know how they are.”

“I think it’s cute,” you teased him gently. “I’m glad you’re thinking of me, even when you’re busy.”

“Of course I am,” Junmin said, his voice dropping to a softer tone now that the others had wandered off. “You’re always on my mind, love. Even if I’m halfway across the world, nothing changes that.”

Your chest tightened at his words, a mix of longing and affection flooding through you. “You have no idea how much I miss you, Minnie.”

“I think I have an idea,” he replied, his voice tender. “But it won’t be too long now. Just a few more days, and then I’ll be back. We’ll go on that date we talked about, yeah?”

You smiled at the thought, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I can’t wait.”

Junmin let out a content sigh. “Neither can I. But until then… I’ll keep calling you, no matter how tired I am. Hearing your voice makes everything feel a little easier.”

“Same here,” you whispered. “Even if it’s just for a few minutes, it helps.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you, the distance feeling a little less overwhelming now that you were connected, even just through a phone line. Junmin’s breathing was slow and steady on the other end, and you could tell he was close to falling asleep.

“You should get some rest,” you said softly. “You have another long day tomorrow.”

“I know,” he murmured, sounding reluctant to hang up. “But I don’t want to stop talking to you.”

You chuckled quietly. “We can talk tomorrow. Get some sleep, Junmin.”

“Alright,” he relented, his voice heavy with sleep. “Goodnight, darling. I love you.”

Your heart fluttered at the words, even though he had said them a few times before. Each time still felt like the first. “I love you too, Junmin. Sweet dreams.”

With a final soft laugh, Junmin hung up, leaving you with a smile lingering on your lips. Though he was far away, somehow, just hearing his voice made everything feel a little closer, a little more bearable.

You lay back down, clutching your phone to your chest as you drifted off to sleep, knowing that no matter the distance, you and Junmin would always find a way to be close.

The days dragged on after that. Though you had gotten used to the brief messages and late-night calls, the longing to see him in person had become almost unbearable. Each morning started the same way—checking your phone for his good morning text.

[junminie 💓] Good morning, love! It’s another crazy day here, but we’re almost done! I miss you like crazy.

And you would always reply.

[you] Good morning, babe. I miss you more.

Each text was short but filled with affection, the messages a small lifeline between the two of you while he was halfway across the world. Whenever he had a spare moment, Junmin would sneak in a call, and even though his voice was sometimes laced with exhaustion, he always made time to talk, no matter how late it was.

One day, you sent him a picture of the sunset from your apartment window, the sky painted with hues of pink and gold.

[you] The sunset looks beautiful today. Wish you were here to see it with me.

Not long after, your phone buzzed with his reply.

[junminie 💓] I wish I was there too. The sunset’s got nothing on you, though.

His cheesy compliments never failed to make you blush, even if he wasn’t there to see your reaction, and even if they were lame. You quickly typed back.

[you] Flirting over text now?

[junminie 💓] Always. It’s all I can do until I get back and hold you again.

The days passed slowly, each one feeling like a countdown until he was back in your arms. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the day of his return arrived. He hadn’t texted as much that day, which made you feel a mix of anticipation and nerves. You knew he’d be exhausted, but you were beyond excited to finally see him.

You were pacing around your apartment when your phone buzzed.

[junminie 💓] Just landed! Heading over to your place now. I can’t wait to see you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you hurried to tidy up your apartment, even though Junmin had been over dozens of times before. After what felt like hours but was only about thirty minutes, there was a soft knock at your door.

You nearly sprinted to the door and flung it open, and there he was—Junmin, standing in your doorway with his suitcase and a backpack slung over one shoulder, looking tired but radiant. His blond hair was slightly messy, his eyes soft as they met yours.

“Babe!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him without hesitation. His familiar warmth enveloped you as he dropped his bag to hug you back, holding you so tightly it was as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

“Hey, love,” he murmured, his voice low and full of affection. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you whispered, burying your face into his chest. “You have no idea.”

Junmin pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you for a few moments longer before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes scanned your face as if to memorize every detail.

“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” he said, his voice filled with awe, making you blush.

“Stop,” you giggled, playfully pushing his chest. “You’ve only been gone for a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of very long weeks,” he corrected with a grin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

You pulled him inside, closing the door behind you as he dragged his suitcase over to the side. Once you were both inside, he let out a small, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, noticing his sudden shift in mood.

“I, uh… I got you something,” Junmin admitted, looking a little shy. “Well, more like a lot of things.”

You blinked, confused for a moment. “What do you mean?”

He knelt down and started unzipping his suitcase, pulling out a few small bags, each one filled with various things—cute trinkets, snacks, and clothing. He kept pulling out more and more, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he glanced at you.

“I, um, went shopping with the members while we were in Japan,” he explained, clearly embarrassed. “And I just… kept seeing things that made me think of you. Like, this sweater,” he pulled out a soft, oversized knit sweater in a color you loved. “I thought it would look so good on you.”

Your eyes widened as you reached out to touch the fabric. “Junnie… you didn’t have to get me all this.”

“I know,” he said quickly, his nervousness making him ramble. “But every time I saw something cute or pretty, I just thought of you, and I couldn’t help it. The guys were making fun of me the whole time, but I don’t care. I just wanted to spoil you a little.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him fidget with the hem of his jacket, clearly embarrassed by his own generosity. He always had this way of being so effortlessly sweet, even when he was nervous.

“Junmin,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “This is so thoughtful. I love everything, but you really didn’t have to go through the trouble.”

“It wasn’t trouble,” he replied quickly, standing up and taking your hands in his. “Honestly, it made me feel closer to you. I was missing you so much, and… I don’t know, seeing all these things made me feel like I was bringing a part of Japan back for you.”

You smiled, feeling your heart swell with affection. “You’re too cute, you know that?”

Junmin’s ears turned pink as he ducked his head slightly, clearly embarrassed by your compliment. “I just wanted to make you happy.”

“You do, babe,” you reassured him, squeezing his hands. “You always do.”

He let out a small sigh of relief, a smile finally breaking through his nervousness. “I’m glad. I was worried I’d gone overboard.”

You laughed softly and reached up to cup his face. “Even if you had, I’d still love it. Because you thought of me.”

Junmin leaned into your touch, his eyes soft as they met yours. “You’re all I think about,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “I missed you so much, y/n. I don’t know how I survived without seeing your pretty little face in real for this long.”

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his words. “Well, you’re here now. And that’s all that matters.”

He pulled you into another hug, resting his chin on top of your head. “Yeah, I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

You stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, the distance that had separated you for weeks finally gone. After a while, you pulled back slightly and looked up at him with a teasing smile.

“So, how many times did the members make fun of you for buying all this?”

Junmin groaned playfully, rolling his eyes. “Too many to count. Yujun kept calling me ‘the world’s most whipped boyfriend,’ or something, and even Hunter joined in.”

You laughed. “Well, you are pretty whipped.”

“And proud of it,” he replied with a grin, his embarrassment finally gone as he leaned down to kiss you softly.

Junmin had a habit of waking up early, and one of the things that made his mornings so much better was texting you, as he did every day. You were his “baby,” his “sweetheart,” and sending you a “good morning” text was always the highlight of his routine.

He sat on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his messy hair as he unlocked his phone and typed out the message.

[Junmin] Good morning, baby. I hope you slept well. Can't wait to see you today. Let’s grab lunch between classes? ❤️"

After sending the text, he put his phone down, expecting the usual quick reply from you. You always texted him back within minutes—usually with something playful like, “Morning, Junnie 💕,” or “Miss you already!” But today, there was nothing. Not even the “typing…” indicator.

Junmin frowned. Maybe you were still asleep. It wasn’t that strange, but the fact that you hadn't shown up for your first class worried him a little. Usually, you’d meet up between lectures for a coffee or just a quick chat, but today, you were nowhere to be found.

He tried to shake off the feeling of unease, but it was hard to ignore. His professor’s voice droned on in the background as Junmin’s thoughts swirled. Where were you?

It wasn’t until he was halfway through his lecture, his phone buzzing quietly in his lap, that he finally received a message. His heart leapt, thinking it might be from you. But when he opened it, the sender’s name was different: Dayeon, your roommate.

[Dayeon] Hey, Junmin. I don’t want to worry you, but y/n is really sick today. She’s been stuck in bed all morning, and she didn’t look good at all. I have to head out to work soon, and I can’t leave her alone like this. Could you come over and check on her? I think she’d really appreciate it.

Junmin’s stomach dropped as he read the message. You were sick? Why hadn’t you told him? Without thinking twice, he shoved his laptop and notebook into his bag, not caring if anyone noticed the hurried movement.

He raised his hand, interrupting the lecture. “Professor, I’m sorry, I have to go. It’s urgent.”

The professor gave him a confused look but nodded. “Alright, Mr. Park, take care of whatever you need.”

He muttered a quick thank you and bolted out of the lecture hall. His mind raced as he walked quickly, almost running, through the campus.

You were sick and alone. And knowing you, you’d probably tried to play it off as nothing, thinking you didn’t want to bother anyone. That was just like you. But not today. There was no way he was going to let you be sick and suffer on your own.

It didn’t take long for Junmin to reach your apartment. He knew the way like the back of his hand by now, having spent countless evenings there with you and your roommate. He knocked gently, just in case you were asleep. After a moment, he heard soft footsteps approaching, and the door opened to reveal Dayeon.

“Junmin, thank God you’re here,” she said, her face looking a little relieved. “She’s in her room. She’s been in bed all morning, and I’ve tried getting her to eat something, but she’s barely touched anything.”

“How bad is it?” Junmin asked, his voice full of concern.

Dayeon shrugged helplessly. “She’s got a fever, and she’s so weak. I wish I didn’t have to go to work, but there’s no one else I can ask.”

“I’ve got it,” Junmin said, already stepping inside. “Thanks for letting me know.”

Dayeon smiled gratefully and slipped on her coat. “Good luck. She’s stubborn when she’s sick.”

Junmin smirked, though his worry still lingered. “I’ll handle it.”

Once Dayeon left, he quietly made his way to your bedroom door. He knocked softly, waiting a few seconds before pushing the door open.

There you were, lying in bed, curled up under a mountain of blankets. Your face was pale, and your eyes barely opened when you heard the door creak.

“Junnie…?” Your voice was weak, barely more than a whisper.

He rushed to your side, kneeling by the bed so his face was level with yours. His hand reached out to brush a few stray strands of hair away from your face. “Yeah, baby, it’s me. I’m here. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling this bad?”

“I didn’t… want to bother you,” you mumbled, closing your eyes again. “You were in class…”

Junmin sighed softly, his thumb gently rubbing your forehead. “You’re never a bother, sweetheart. I don’t care if I’m in class or halfway across the world, if you’re sick, you tell me, okay?”

You let out a soft groan in response, too exhausted to argue. Junmin smiled despite the situation, his heart aching to see you so weak.

“Alright, I’m going to get you some medicine and something to drink,” he said softly, standing up. “Stay put, don’t even think about moving.”

You mumbled something incoherent, but Junmin could tell it was an attempt at protest. He shook his head with a small smile as he left the room.

It wasn’t long before Junmin came back with a glass of water, a cool cloth, and some medicine. He sat beside you on the bed, gently helping you sit up enough to drink.

“Here, baby, take this. It’ll help with your fever,” he coaxed, holding the pills out to you.

You blinked groggily at him but opened your mouth to take the medicine. Junmin then placed the cool cloth on your forehead, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he did.

As Junmin sat by your side, watching you lie there with a fever, he could see just how miserable you were, and yet, you still had that stubborn spark in your eyes that he loved so much.

"Junnie," you muttered, your voice scratchy from your sore throat, "you should really go. I don't want you to get sick too."

He frowned, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your sweaty forehead. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart," he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You gave a weak, groggy huff. "You'll get sick, and then we'll both be miserable. Just go back to class or something."

Junmin let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "You know I don’t care about getting sick. I’ll take care of you, and if I get sick, you can take care of me later." He winked at you playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

You turned your head to the side, groaning in frustration. "You're impossible."

"And you’re adorable when you’re grumpy," he teased, kissing your forehead again. "Now stop arguing and let me take care of you."

You didn’t have the energy to keep fighting, so you just gave a half-hearted grumble in response, closing your eyes as the fever pulsed behind your eyelids.

A little while later, you smelled something faintly delicious from the kitchen, and it stirred you enough to blink open your eyes. Junmin had slipped away while you’d been dozing, and you could hear the sound of pots clanging and water boiling.

Moments later, he reappeared, holding a bowl of steaming soup and a spoon. He had that proud, excited look on his face, like he’d just prepared a five-course meal.

"Look what I made," he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside you. "Chicken soup, just like my mom used to make when I was sick."

You glanced at the bowl but immediately shook your head. "Junnie, I’m not hungry."

His smile faltered for a moment, but it quickly returned. "Come on, baby. Just a few bites, okay? It’ll help you feel better, I promise."

You groaned and turned away from him, pulling the blanket up to your chin. "No. I don’t want it. I’m too tired."

But Junmin wasn’t giving up that easily. He leaned in close, resting his chin on the bed beside you, and then he gave you the look. The look he knew you couldn’t resist. His big, round puppy eyes—eyes that practically begged you to just give in.

"Please, sweetheart," he pouted. "For me? Just a little bit? You don’t want to see me sad, do you?"

You opened your eyes and glanced over at him. Damn it. He knew exactly what he was doing. Those puppy eyes were your kryptonite.

"You’re so annoying," you mumbled, but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"I’ll take that as a yes," Junmin grinned, scooping a spoonful of soup and carefully bringing it to your lips.

Reluctantly, you opened your mouth and took a small sip. The warmth of the soup actually felt soothing against your throat, but you weren’t about to admit that just yet. Junmin's face lit up when he saw you eat, as if you'd just made his entire day.

"There we go!" he said, clearly pleased with himself. "Tastes good, right?"

You gave him a sidelong glance. "It’s… okay."

"Just okay?" He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "I spent time preparing food in that kitchen, and all I get is 'okay'?"

"Fine, it’s good," you admitted with a sigh, rolling your eyes.

"That’s what I thought," he said, satisfied, and he offered you another spoonful.

This time, you didn’t fight it, and you ate a few more bites, though you still kept up the grumpy act. But the truth was, Junmin’s care—and his terrible, cute attempts to coax you into eating—made you feel a little better.

After a few more bites, you pushed the bowl away. "Okay, okay. I’m done. I’m going to sleep now."

Junmin chuckled softly, placing the bowl on the nightstand. "Alright, baby. Sleep as much as you need to. I’m not going anywhere."

"You better not get sick," you mumbled sleepily, closing your eyes as the exhaustion overtook you again.

Junmin leaned down, his lips brushing your forehead. "I won’t, I promise. Now rest."

You were out like a light within minutes, and Junmin let out a quiet sigh of relief as he watched you finally drift off into a peaceful sleep. He stood up carefully, making sure not to disturb you, and tiptoed out of the room.

As he closed your bedroom door gently behind him, he glanced around the rest of the apartment. To say it was a mess would be putting it lightly. The kitchen had dishes piled up in the sink, a blanket and books were strewn across the couch, and the laundry basket was overflowing with clothes.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, I guess I know what I’m doing while you sleep," he muttered to himself with a determined smile.

First, he tackled the kitchen. He washed the dishes, scrubbing them carefully and putting them away as quietly as he could. Then, he wiped down the counters, making sure everything looked spotless.

Next, he moved on to the living room, folding the blankets and organizing the books that were scattered around. He straightened up the pillows and vacuumed the carpet, making sure not to make too much noise.

Once that was done, he turned to the laundry. He gathered all the clothes, throwing them into the washing machine with detergent, then moved on to mop the floor, making the apartment shine in a way it hadn’t in a while.

When he finished tidying up, he stood back and admired his work. The apartment looked like a different place now—clean, organized, and peaceful.

A couple of hours later, you slowly blinked your eyes open, feeling the remnants of sleep clinging to your body. The fever had broken, leaving you a bit groggy but significantly better. As your vision cleared, you looked around your room and saw Junmin sitting at your desk, one earbud in, his laptop open in front of him. He was typing away, deep in thought, his brow slightly furrowed as he worked on what looked like an essay.

The apartment was quiet, except for the soft clacking of his keyboard. The sight of him there, casually working in your space, made your heart warm. He looked so comfortable, as if he belonged there—and in a way, he did.

You shifted in bed slightly, letting out a soft groan. "Junnie…"

Before you could say another word, Junmin immediately stopped typing, cutting off mid-sentence in his essay. He pulled out his earbud, turning in his chair to face you with a concerned expression.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said softly, getting up and walking over to your bedside. He knelt down beside you, brushing a hand over your forehead like he’d been doing all day. "You’re awake. How are you feeling? Better?"

You blinked up at him, still adjusting to being awake. "Yeah… a little better. My head's still fuzzy, though."

"That’s good," he said, his voice filled with relief. "Your fever's gone down, and you’ve been sleeping for a few hours. I was getting a little worried." His thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand as he spoke, his concern palpable.

As you started to wake up more, you noticed something different about the apartment. The floor was spotless, the air smelled faintly of lavender from the mop water, and the clutter that had once filled the room was gone. Everything was clean and tidy. You frowned, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

"Wait… did you clean everything?"

Junmin smiled sheepishly, sitting back on his heels. "Uh, yeah. I did a little tidying while you were asleep. Just the basics."

You narrowed your eyes at him, a grumpy frown forming on your face. "Junnie, I told you not to get sick, and here you are, running around cleaning everything. You should’ve just rested."

He chuckled at the scolding tone in your voice, clearly amused by your attempt to sound stern. "Sweetheart, you know I love cleaning. It’s not a big deal. I couldn’t let you stay in a messy apartment. Plus," he leaned in a little closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "you know how much I love taking care of you."

You huffed, crossing your arms as best as you could while lying in bed. "You’re going to make yourself sick doing all this. I don’t need you cleaning and cooking and—"

"I won’t get sick," he cut you off, laughing softly. "And besides, I’d rather be here helping you than sitting in class worrying about you. You know that."

You shot him an exasperated look, though deep down, you couldn’t deny how much you appreciated everything he was doing. Still, you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. "You should’ve at least waited until I wasn’t half-dead with a fever before you started doing my laundry."

Junmin raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Wait until you see the folded towels. They're perfect."

You couldn’t help but crack a smile despite your grumpiness. "You’re ridiculous."

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter. "Come on, you know you love it when I clean up. Admit it, you were secretly hoping I’d tidy everything while you napped."

You tried to keep your frown, but his teasing tone and the obvious affection in his eyes made it impossible. "Maybe," you muttered under your breath, pretending to pout.

Junmin laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "There’s my grumpy girl." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’re adorable when you’re like this, you know that?"

"I’m not adorable," you protested, though you felt the warmth rising in your cheeks. "I’m sick and miserable."

He grinned wider, brushing his hand through your hair. "You’re still adorable to me."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the tiny smile from tugging at your lips. "You’re impossible."

"And you’re stuck with me," he replied, his voice filled with playful affection. "Now, do you want anything? More soup? Water?"

You shook your head. "No, I’m okay. Just tired."

"Alright," he said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking your hair gently. "Then rest a bit more. I’ll be right here if you need anything."

As he sat there, you glanced around the apartment again, taking in how spotless it looked. You had to admit, it was impressive. He’d even cleaned the kitchen, which you hadn’t dared touch in days.

"You really cleaned everything, huh?" you muttered, half-admiring, half-annoyed.

Junmin shrugged casually, as if it were no big deal. "Like I said, I couldn’t leave you in a messy place. Plus, it gave me something to do while you were sleeping."

"Still, you didn’t have to do all that," you murmured, the stubbornness in your voice softening slightly.

He gave you a warm, reassuring smile. "I know. But I wanted to. Now, stop worrying and just rest, okay?"

You sighed, feeling the last bits of your grumpiness slipping away. He was right—you didn’t have the energy to keep arguing, especially not with him looking at you like that.

"Fine," you muttered, sinking back into your pillows. "But don’t think you’re off the hook."

Junmin chuckled, standing up and heading back to the desk. "I’ll take my chances." He gave you a wink before sitting down and putting his earbud back in, though you noticed him glancing over at you every few minutes, making sure you were comfortable.

Despite your lingering annoyance, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. You watched him for a moment, typing away on his laptop again, his brow furrowed as he focused on his homework. He was so thoughtful, always doing whatever he could to take care of you, even when you didn’t ask for it.

You let out a soft sigh and closed your eyes, the sound of his typing lulling you back to sleep, feeling safe and cared for with Junmin by your side.

As the evening wore on, the soft golden light of the setting sun filtered through your curtains, casting a warm glow over your room. The fever that had plagued you all day had mostly subsided, but your body still felt weak and achy. You shifted under the blankets, trying to get comfortable, but nothing seemed to help the lingering exhaustion that clung to your bones.

Junmin was still at your desk, finishing up some homework. His earbud was in again, and he was typing quietly, glancing over at you every few minutes like he had been doing all day. You could see the worry etched on his face every time his eyes flicked toward you, and it made your heart flutter knowing how much he cared.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the fatigue pressing down on you. You didn’t want to be alone in bed anymore. You wanted him close.

“Junnie…” you called out softly, your voice laced with a whiny tone that you didn’t even try to hide.

He immediately paused, mid-sentence in whatever essay he was working on. He pulled out his earbud and turned to you, his eyes instantly softening as he took in your tired face.

“Yeah, baby?” he asked, his voice gentle and full of concern.

You pouted, blinking up at him with wide eyes. “Come to bed with me.”

Junmin’s heart flipped in his chest at the sound of your whiny voice, and he couldn’t help the fond smile that spread across his face. He stood up from the desk, closing his laptop and leaving his work behind without a second thought.

“Of course,” he said softly, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside you. “You want some cuddles?”

You nodded, still pouting slightly. “I’m tired, and I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Junmin chuckled softly, his heart melting at how vulnerable and adorable you were being. “You don’t have to be alone, sweetheart. I’m right here.”

He climbed into bed beside you, sliding under the covers and wrapping his arms around you without hesitation. His body was warm against yours, and you instinctively nuzzled into his chest, sighing contentedly as his strong arms pulled you close. His hand gently stroked your back, tracing soft patterns that sent shivers of comfort down your spine.

“There we go,” Junmin murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “Better?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as you nestled further into his embrace. His warmth, his scent, everything about him was comforting. It was like your body finally relaxed, tension melting away as you clung to him.

“Much better,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Junmin pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ll stay here as long as you want,” he whispered back. “You’re my priority right now.”

You let out a soft whine, tightening your grip on his shirt. “I don’t want you to leave.”

His chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, and he kissed your forehead this time, the gesture full of tenderness. “I’m not going anywhere, baby. I promise.”

For a few minutes, you lay in silence, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. It was soothing, a reminder of how much he cared for you, how he was always there when you needed him most. His hand continued to rub slow, comforting circles on your back, and you felt yourself starting to drift off again.

“I’m sorry I’m so whiny today,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt.

Junmin’s fingers stilled for a moment before he chuckled softly again. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” he said, his voice gentle. “You’re sick and tired. You’re allowed to be whiny. Besides…” He paused, pulling back just enough to look down at you, his lips curling into a playful smile. “You’re kinda cute when you’re whiny.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment. “Stop,” you muttered, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

He laughed softly, wrapping you tighter in his arms. “Never. You’re too adorable right now.”

You felt your face heat up at his words, but instead of protesting, you just nuzzled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His hand resumed its gentle strokes along your back, and you let out a soft, contented sigh.

“I really love you, Junnie,” you whispered, your voice sleepy but sincere.

Junmin’s heart swelled at your words, and he leaned down to kiss your temple. “I love you too, baby,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “More than anything.”

You smiled, feeling safe and loved in his arms. The world outside seemed to fade away, and all that mattered was the warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your ear.

As the night slowly deepened, you could feel the last of your energy fading. But this time, instead of the exhaustion feeling heavy and overwhelming, it felt peaceful. You were wrapped up in the warmth of the person you loved most, and nothing else seemed to matter.

“Stay with me,” you mumbled sleepily, your grip on his shirt loosening as you started to drift off.

“I’m right here,” Junmin whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “Always.”

And with that, you finally let yourself fully relax, falling into a deep, peaceful sleep in the arms of the one person who always made you feel better, no matter what.

Junmin sighed softly, his heart swelling with relief as he watched you sleep, your soft breathing and the peaceful expression on your face making him smile. He held you close, refusing to move even an inch, wanting to keep you wrapped up in his warmth for as long as you needed.

As the night continued, he stayed there with you, content just to be by your side. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping much tonight, but he didn’t care. Being there for you was all that mattered.

You and Minjae hadn’t been together long—just a couple of months—but things had fallen into place so naturally. He had this way about him that made everything feel easy, as though being together had always been the plan, even when you didn’t know it.

So, when he called you up one morning, his voice full of that familiar warmth, and asked, “Hey, do you want to go shopping with me today?” you didn’t hesitate for a second before saying yes.

The two of you met up in the city center, his hand instantly finding yours the moment you saw each other. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his favorite little gesture of affection. “You look beautiful,” he whispered against your skin, sending a shiver through you.

“You always say that,” you teased, though your cheeks warmed at the compliment.

“Because it’s true,” he replied easily, squeezing your hand before pulling you along. “C’mon, I know a place.”

He led you to a high-end boutique, the kind of place you normally wouldn’t even dare to enter unless it was just for window-shopping. The mannequins were dressed in sleek, designer clothes, and you could already tell that everything here cost more than you wanted to think about.

“Minjae, this place is expensive…” you mumbled, glancing at him nervously as the glass doors swung open with a soft chime.

He just grinned, that mischievous little smile of his that always made you feel both comforted and a little bit nervous at the same time. “Don’t worry about it. Just look around and pick something you like.”

The first rack you browsed through had beautiful dresses, all delicate fabrics and intricate details. You paused, your fingers grazing over one particular dress that caught your eye. It was a soft blush color, simple but elegant, with a subtle shimmer woven into the fabric.

Minjae noticed immediately. “You like that one?” he asked, stepping up beside you.

“It’s nice, but—” you hesitated, glancing at the price tag. Your stomach dropped a little when you saw the number, and you quickly shook your head. “It’s way too expensive. I don’t need something like this.”

Without another word, Minjae took the dress off the rack and handed it to the sales assistant who appeared at his side as if by magic. “We’ll take this. Thank you.”

“Minjae!” you protested, grabbing his arm. “No, really, it’s too much. I don’t need it.”

But he just smiled at you, that soft, reassuring smile that always seemed to melt your resolve. “I want to. You deserve nice things. Don’t worry about it, okay baby?”

You sighed, knowing there was no arguing with him when he had his mind set on something. He loved spoiling you, and while you felt guilty sometimes, it was clear that it made him happy.

The rest of the shopping trip continued much the same way. You’d pick up something to look at, admire it for a second, and Minjae would swoop in, insisting on buying it. If you lingered too long on an item, even if you didn’t say a word, he’d ask, “You like this one, baby?” and before you could even respond, he’d have it in the arms of the sales assistant.

At one point, you found yourself in the shoe section, admiring a pair of sleek black heels. They were gorgeous but definitely impractical for someone like you who didn’t wear heels often.

“Try them on,” Minjae encouraged, already picking up the right size for you.

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I’ll fall on my face if I wear those.”

He knelt down in front of you, his fingers gently helping you slip your foot into the shoe. “Then I’ll be there to catch you,” he said softly, looking up at you with those deep, sincere eyes.

“Minjae…” you whispered, your heart swelling at the tenderness in his voice.

He stood up, grinning as you took a few wobbly steps in the heels. “See? You look stunning.”

You were about to argue again about the price, but he cut you off, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “Nope. Don’t even start,” he murmured against your mouth. “You’re getting them.”

He continued to pick things out for you, clothes you hadn’t even considered but ended up loving once you tried them on. He had a surprisingly good eye for fashion, and every time you came out of the dressing room, he’d light up like he’d just won the lottery.

“You look like a dream,” he’d say, his voice low and full of admiration, or “My girl’s the most beautiful in the world.” And every time, he’d pull you in for a kiss, just a brief press of his lips, but enough to make your heart race.

Eventually, your arms were full of shopping bags, and you couldn’t hold any more even if you tried. Minjae, of course, offered to carry them all for you, despite your protests.

“Minjae, this is too much,” you insisted for what felt like the hundredth time that day. “You really didn’t have to buy me all this.”

He paused in the middle of the sidewalk, setting the bags down for a moment so he could wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you close. His forehead rested against yours, and he gazed at you with that soft, affectionate look that always made your knees weak.

“I know I don’t have to,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “I do it because I want to. You make me happy, and I like spoiling you. It’s my way of showing you how much I care.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the right thing to say. Instead, you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, hoping it would convey everything you were feeling.

When you finally pulled away, Minjae smiled down at you, his hand still resting on your cheek. “I love you, you know that?” he whispered, his voice soft but sure.

“I love you too,” you murmured, your chest feeling impossibly full.

With one last kiss, he picked up the bags again, and you continued walking together, hand in hand. You couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest person in the world, not because of the clothes or the gifts, but because of him—because of the way he loved you so openly, so completely.

As the day drew to a close and the sun began to set, casting a warm golden light over the city, Minjae squeezed your hand gently, glancing over at you with a soft smile.

“You know, I think we should do this more often,” he said, his voice teasing but full of affection. “Spoiling you is my new favorite hobby.”

You laughed, shaking your head but feeling more loved than ever. “Just don’t spoil me too much,” you warned playfully, though you knew he would anyway.

Minjae just grinned, pulling you closer as you walked. “No promises, baby.”

After the shopping spree, your arms laden with bags, you both decided to grab something to eat. You were still reeling from the number of things Minjae had bought you. It felt surreal, as if you were in a dream, walking around with designer clothes, shoes, and accessories that you’d never imagined owning.

“I’m starving,” Minjae said, flashing you that familiar grin as he glanced at his watch. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Hmm,” you hummed, pretending to think. “Something simple? Like pasta or something.”

He laughed at that, gently nudging you with his elbow. “Okay, something simple it is.”

You ended up at a cozy little restaurant, nothing too fancy, just the kind of place you both loved. The soft hum of conversation filled the room, along with the delicious smell of food being cooked. You felt yourself relax as you slid into the booth, Minjae sitting across from you, his gaze still lingering on you like you were the only person in the world.

“You know, you didn’t have to do all that,” you started softly, glancing at the shopping bags that were now piled on the seat beside you. “It’s too much, Min.”

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles as he gave you a lopsided smile. “I wanted to. Besides, it’s not too much if it’s for you.”

You were about to protest when the waiter arrived, interrupting the moment. You both placed your orders, keeping it simple as promised. When the waiter left, you decided that you’d pay for the meal this time. After everything Minjae had done today, the least you could do was take care of dinner.

The food arrived shortly after, and as you both ate, you found yourself feeling even more comfortable. Minjae was his usual playful self, making you laugh with stories and little jokes. He kept calling you by his favorite pet names—“baby,” “angel,” “my love”—each one sending a little thrill through you.

You noticed that the check was on the table before you even finished your meal. This was your chance. You reached for your purse, determined to grab the bill before Minjae could even think about it.

But just as you were about to take the check, Minjae’s hand was already there, faster than yours. He picked it up with a casual, almost smug smile.

“Minjae!” you exclaimed, sitting back with a huff. “I was going to pay this time.”

He didn’t even blink as he pulled out his card and handed it to the waiter. “You're too slow,” he teased, giving you a playful smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, not finding it quite as funny as he did. “I’m serious, Minjae. You’ve already spent so much today. You bought all those clothes, shoes, stuffs—and now this? You’ve practically spent your entire paycheck in one day!”

Minjae leaned back in the booth, crossing his arms as he looked at you, utterly unbothered. “So what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m just taking care of my girl.”

You sighed, exasperated but also slightly flustered by how nonchalant he was being. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it—I do, more than you know. But you can’t just spend that much money on me all the time. It’s not… it’s not responsible.”

He gave you a long look, and then his smirk softened into something warmer, more sincere. “Y/N, listen to me.” He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as he looked you straight in the eyes. “You’re important to me. I like doing this for you. I like making you happy.”

“I am happy,” you admitted, your voice quieter now, “but I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this. I don’t want you to waste all your money just to make me happy.”

Minjae chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not a waste if it’s for you. I don’t care about the money, baby. I work hard, yeah, but I also want to enjoy what I earn—and part of enjoying it is spoiling you. It makes me happy when I see you smile, when I see you light up over something you love.”

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. You loved how thoughtful he was, how much he cared, but it still felt like too much. “But… what about saving? You don’t need to spend it all in one go.”

He laughed again, this time more softly. “Trust me, I’m fine. I’ve got savings. I’m not going to go broke from buying you a few dresses and some dinner. Stop worrying, okay?”

You tried to scold him again, but there was something about the way he said it, so calm and assured, that made it hard to argue. He was always like this, so confident and sure in everything he did. And right now, he seemed sure that spoiling you was just part of how he showed you love.

Still, you couldn’t help but try one last time. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do this to show me you care.”

Minjae’s expression softened further as he reached across the table to take your hand again. “I don’t do it because I have to. I do it because I want to. Taking care of you, spoiling you… it’s just one way I show you how much I love you. And besides…” He gave you another playful grin. “I kind of like being the guy who gets to spoil the most amazing person in the world.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, and despite your best efforts, a smile crept onto your face. It was impossible to stay mad at him when he said things like that.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed, giving in a little, but you couldn’t resist one more tease. “But next time, I’m paying. I mean it.”

Minjae chuckled, squeezing your hand. “We’ll see, baby. We’ll see.” His tone was full of affection, but there was a smugness underneath, as if he already knew he’d win that battle too.

When the waiter returned with the receipt, Minjae didn’t even look at it as he signed the bill. He leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to your hand, and then looked at you with that familiar, teasing glint in his eyes.

“Now,” he said, standing up and grabbing the shopping bags once again, “let’s get my spoiled little princess home.”

You and Yujun had been dating for a little while now—just a few months, but long enough for you to feel comfortable around him. It was a quiet Saturday evening, and you had both agreed to study together for an upcoming exam. The thought of spending time with him made the stress of the exam feel lighter somehow.

When you arrived at his dorm, you immediately noticed how cold it was. You hadn’t expected it to be this chilly—it was still early fall, and you had dressed in a light sweater and leggings, thinking it would be enough. But as soon as you sat down at his desk, flipping open your notebook, you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Yujun glanced up from his own notes, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle. You could hear the worry creeping in as he leaned a little closer, his dark eyes scanning your face.

You tried to play it off, rubbing your arms and giving him a small smile. "A little, but it's fine," you said, not wanting to make a fuss.

But Yujun wasn’t having it. He stood up from his chair, rummaging through his closet for a moment before pulling out a sweatshirt—one of his favorites, you noticed. It was a soft, oversized gray hoodie, the one he usually wore when he was relaxing in his dorm.

“Here,” he said, his voice warm and insistent as he handed it to you. “You’ll freeze if you don’t wear this.”

You hesitated for a second, taking the hoodie from him. It was big, much bigger than anything you usually wore, but it was also warm and it smelled like him—like a mixture of fresh laundry and the subtle hint of cologne that was distinctly Yujun.

“Thanks,” you murmured, pulling it over your head. The fabric immediately engulfed you, the sleeves hanging well past your wrists, the hem almost reaching your thighs. You couldn’t help but laugh a little at how oversized it was on you.

Yujun watched as you adjusted the hoodie, his mouth slightly open like he was about to say something. But then he didn’t. His eyes lingered on you for a moment, longer than usual, and you noticed how his expression softened. His breath hitched audibly, and you saw his chest rise and fall, like he was struggling to catch it.

You blinked, confused. “What?” you asked, tilting your head. “Do I look ridiculous or something?”

“No, no,” Yujun said quickly, shaking his head. His voice was a little breathless, almost like he had just run a mile. “You just… you look really cute.” His words tumbled out before he could stop them, and you saw a blush creep up his cheeks, faint but undeniable.

You felt your own face heat up at his compliment, your heart doing an involuntary flip. “It’s just a hoodie,” you replied, trying to downplay the way his words made your stomach flutter. But inside, you were thrilled.

Yujun didn’t move at first, his gaze still locked on you like he was mesmerized. Then, all of a sudden, something changed in his expression. His eyes sparkled with an intensity that caught you off guard, and before you could react, he lunged toward you with a playful grin.

“Yujun, what are you—” you barely had time to finish your sentence before he tackled you onto his bed, his arms wrapping around you as you fell backward onto the soft mattress. You let out a surprised yelp, the two of you landing in a heap of laughter.

He hovered over you for a second, his face inches from yours, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting you to look that adorable in my clothes,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and your heart was pounding in your chest.

Before you could respond, Yujun leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, gentle and sweet. Then, he kissed your nose, then your cheek, and then another on your temple. Each kiss was light and soft, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he peppered your face with them, his lips trailing down to your jawline, then back up to your forehead again.

“Yujun,” you laughed, squirming under him as his kisses became more playful. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t help it,” he murmured between kisses, his voice warm and teasing. “You look too cute in my hoodie. It’s driving me crazy.”

Your laughter filled the small room, and you tried to push him away, but his arms were still wrapped around you, keeping you firmly in place. “Okay, okay! Enough!” you giggled, trying to catch your breath as he finally paused his attack of kisses.

He leaned back slightly, resting his forehead against yours, both of you panting softly from the laughter. For a moment, the playful energy between you shifted into something softer, more tender. His eyes met yours, and you could see the affection there, clear as day.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he said quietly, his voice filled with warmth. His hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

You felt your heart swell at his words, and for a moment, the coldness in the room didn’t matter. The only thing you could feel was his warmth, his presence next to you, and the quiet beating of his heart that seemed to match yours.

“Thanks for the sweatshirt,” you whispered, smiling up at him.

“Anytime,” Yujun replied, his lips curving into a soft smile. He leaned down, pressing one last, gentle kiss to your lips before pulling away, leaving your skin tingling from his touch.

For the rest of the night, neither of you studied much, but you didn’t mind. You were wrapped up in Yujun’s hoodie, his scent surrounding you, and every now and then, he’d sneak another kiss as if he couldn’t resist.

KIM JUNGHOON

The sun was setting, casting a soft orange glow over the quiet park where you and your boyfriend, Junghoon, were walking. The air was crisp, the kind of early evening that promised the perfect blend of relaxation and coziness.

As you strolled along the path, you were dressed in an outfit you’d carefully chosen to look a bit more fierce—dark jeans, a leather jacket, and boots that clicked softly against the pavement. You wanted to project confidence, maturity, and maybe even a little bit of mystery. But no matter what you wore or how you tried to act, your natural cuteness always seemed to bubble to the surface, much to your frustration. And somehow, Junghoon always managed to notice it, even if he didn’t always react the way others might.

He was walking beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. His face, as usual, was mostly unreadable, his eyes gazing out at the trees swaying gently in the breeze. He was calm, composed, almost as if he was lost in thought, though you knew him well enough to know he was very much present.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but start talking about your day, your voice animated as you recounted a funny incident that had happened in class. You didn’t notice at first how your natural excitement caused your voice to rise slightly, or how your eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. But Junghoon noticed. He always did.

“And then, just as the professor was about to turn around, the projector—” you were saying, your hands gesturing as you spoke, but you stopped mid-sentence when you realized Junghoon was looking at you with a slight curve at the corner of his lips. Was that a smile? It was hard to tell, given how subtle it was, but you could swear he was amused.

You blinked, suddenly self-conscious. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Junghoon seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what had caught his attention either. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused, his expression as unreadable as ever. But then, before he could stop himself, he said it. “You’re cute.”

The words hung in the air between you, and both of you froze. It wasn’t like Junghoon to hand out compliments, especially ones that seemed so spontaneous. His usual calm demeanor seemed to falter as he realized what he had just said, his eyes widening slightly, the only hint of his own surprise.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your cheeks start to warm. “I’m… what?” you stammered, not quite sure if you’d heard him correctly.

Junghoon blinked, his face still not giving much away, but you could tell he was flustered. His eyes darted away from yours, focusing on some random point in the distance as he tried to compose himself. “Uh… I mean, you’re always cute. But, um… I didn’t mean to say it out loud.”

You stared at him, equally flustered by the unexpected compliment. Junghoon was always so composed, so in control of his emotions, that hearing something like this from him felt like a major event. “You think I’m cute?” you asked, your voice softening, the earlier fierceness in your demeanor melting away.

He cleared his throat, still not meeting your gaze. “Well… yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re always trying to be fierce and stuff, but… you’re just naturally cute.”

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions—embarrassment, warmth, and a tiny bit of pride. It wasn’t often that Junghoon showed this side of himself, and knowing that he found you cute despite his usual stoicism made your heart swell.

“Hoonie,” you began, trying to gather your thoughts, “I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”

He finally looked back at you, his expression softening just a fraction. “I notice a lot of things,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I just don’t always know how to say them.”

You felt a smile tugging at your lips, the earlier flustered feeling gradually turning into something warmer, more intimate. “Well, thank you,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. “It means a lot to me, coming from you.”

Junghoon’s fingers curled around yours, his grip gentle but reassuring. “I didn’t mean to make you embarrassed,” he said, his tone sincere, even if his face was still mostly expressionless.

“I’m not embarrassed,” you replied, your smile growing. “Just… surprised. But in a good way.”

He nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over the back of your hand. “Good,” he murmured, his voice soft, almost as if he was relieved.

PARK SEEUN

You and Seeun were out shopping, as usual. He loved shopping and you liked to tag along most of the time. Your boyfriend was the epitome of arrogance and confidence. He was the kind of guy who always seemed to have everything under control, who could charm anyone with just a smirk. But behind that confident facade, you knew there was another side to him—a side that was completely whipped for you, even if he tried to hide it.

You, on the other hand, were naturally cute. It was something you’d never been entirely comfortable with, especially since you wanted to be seen as fierce and strong, not just adorable. You tried to dress the part today, wearing a sleek black outfit that you hoped would give you a more mature vibe. But no matter how hard you tried, your natural sweetness always seemed to shine through, much to Seeun’s amusement.

As you walked into a trendy clothing store, Seeun was right by your side, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. He watched as you started browsing through the racks of clothes, his eyes following your every move with a mixture of affection and something else he would never admit—utter adoration.

“So,” he said, leaning casually against a display table, “what are you looking for today? Something cute, I’m guessing?”

You shot him a glare over your shoulder, though it was more playful than serious. “I’m trying to find something fierce, thank you very much,” you replied, emphasizing the word.

Seeun smirked, clearly enjoying this. “Fierce, huh? Are you sure? Because you’re pretty much the definition of cute.”

You groaned softly, rolling your eyes as you flipped through the hangers. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, that smug smile never leaving his face. “But you make it so easy. Every time you try to be fierce, you just end up being even cuter.”

You huffed in frustration, though you couldn’t deny the warmth creeping up your neck. “Seeun-a, I'm not cute. I’m older than you, remember? I’m supposed to be the mature one.”

He chuckled, pushing off the table and walking up behind you. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Older, yes. But still cute,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You shivered slightly at the closeness, trying to maintain your composure. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though your voice lacked the usual bite.

“And you’re adorable,” he shot back, his tone filled with that same smug confidence that always drove you crazy—in both good and bad ways.

You turned around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know, for someone who’s always so collected, you seem to enjoy teasing me a little too much,” you pointed out, narrowing your eyes at him.

Seeun just shrugged, his expression infuriatingly calm. “What can I say? It’s fun watching you get all flustered.”

You were about to retort when a sales associate approached, offering help. You politely declined, deciding to continue browsing on your own. But as you reached for a particularly sleek jacket, Seeun grabbed it first, holding it up as if examining it.

“Hmm,” he said, his tone casual, though you could see the mischief in his eyes. “This could work. But I think you’d look great in something like this instead.” He reached over to a nearby rack and pulled out a soft, pastel-colored sweater, holding it up with a raised eyebrow.

You groaned, feeling your patience wearing thin. “Seeun, I’m trying to be fierce, not cute!”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Yeah, but this is more you. Admit it.”

You snatched the sweater from his hands, feeling a mix of frustration and warmth. “You’re doing this on purpose,” you grumbled, though you couldn’t help but notice how soft the fabric was.

“Of course I am,” he said, his smirk growing wider. “Because no matter what you wear, you’re going to be cute. It’s just who you are.”

You huffed, feeling the blush rising to your cheeks. “And you’re just going to keep calling me cute, aren’t you?”

“You know i live to annoy you,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at you with that same infuriatingly confident smile

JUNG YUJUN

You were sitting on your boyfriend's bed, Yujun's, legs crossed, surrounded by a sea of pillows. Yujun was next to you, leaning back against the headboard, one arm casually slung over a pillow as he told some ridiculous story from earlier in the day. His room had always felt cozy, a little haven where the two of you could just relax and be yourselves.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. He had this way of making everything sound funny, even the most mundane things. You were laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt, your natural cuteness shining through no matter how much you tried to suppress it.

He was leaning back against the headboard, watching you with that familiar playful smirk on his face. He loved making you laugh, not just because it was fun, but because he found your laughter completely irresistible. There was something about the way your eyes sparkled and the way your face lit up when you laughed that made his heart skip a beat every time.

As your laughter started to die down, Yujun looked at you, his smirk turning into a soft smile. “You know, you’re really cute when you laugh like that,” he said, his voice full of teasing affection.

You immediately stopped laughing, your smile faltering as you shot him a glare. “Yujun, I’m not cute,” you protested, swatting his arm lightly. “I’m supposed to be fierce, remember?”

He chuckled, clearly not taking your protest seriously. “Sure, sure, you’re fierce and all that,” he said, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But you’re also really, really cute. Especially when you’re trying not to be.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you tried to look serious. “I’m not cute,” you insisted, though the pout forming on your lips was doing nothing to help your case. “And you need to stop calling me that.”

“But it’s true!” Yujun teased, poking your side lightly just to annoy you. “You’re the cutest girlfriend ever, and you can’t even deny it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your attempt to stay annoyed. You were trying to swat his hand away as he continued to poke your side until he grabbed your wrist mid-swat, pulling you closer. “Come on, admit it.”

“No way,” you said, shaking your head as you tried to pull your hand free. “I’m not admitting anything.”

Yujun just laughed, clearly enjoying this little game. He suddenly shifted, pinning you down on the bed with a playful grin. “Fine, if you won’t admit it, I’ll just have to make you,” he declared, his voice full of mock seriousness.

You squealed in surprise as he tickled your sides, squirming beneath him as you tried to get away. “Yujun, stop!” you laughed, your voice breathless as you tried to push him off. “That’s not fair!”

“I don't play by the rules, you know that,” he quipped, his fingers still dancing along your sides as he grinned down at you. “Come on, just say it. Say you’re cute.”

You shook your head stubbornly, though your laughter made it hard to maintain your defiance. “Never!” you declared, trying to wriggle out of his grip.

But Yujun was persistent, his hands still lightly tickling you as he leaned in closer, his face just inches from yours. “You’re gonna give in eventually,” he teased, his voice dropping to a soft murmur.

You glared up at him, but the twinkle in his eyes and the warmth of his smile made it impossible to stay mad. “Fine,” you finally relented, your voice still breathless from laughing. “Maybe I’m a little cute. But tiny, tiny bit!”

Yujun’s grin turned triumphant as he stopped tickling you, his hands resting on either side of your head as he looked down at you with that same affectionate smile. “I knew you’d admit it,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth.

You pouted up at him, still trying to hold on to the last remnants of your defiance. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

“And you’re the cutest girlfriend ever,” he replied, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned down, his lips brushing lightly against yours. “But that’s why I love you.”

PARK HUNTER

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow over the park near campus, where you and Hunter had decided to spend the afternoon. Hunter, your boyfriend, was walking beside you, his hand loosely holding yours. He had this air of maturity about him that often made people assume he was older than you. With his tall frame, confident posture, and that deep, calm voice, he exuded a kind of steadiness that you found incredibly reassuring. But despite his older appearance, he was actually younger than you—a fact he liked to tease you about, especially given your naturally cute appearance.

No matter how hard you tried to appear older or more sophisticated, your baby face and the natural cuteness that came with it always shone through. Hunter found this endlessly amusing, and he loved to playfully flirt with you, knowing just how to make you flustered.

As you walked together, chatting about your day, you suddenly noticed a little dog—a fluffy, white ball of fur—trotting along the path ahead of you. Your eyes immediately widened in delight, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft gasp. “Oh my gosh, look at that dog!” you exclaimed, your voice filled with excitement.

Hunter couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction. He turned to see the little dog, which was indeed adorable, but what caught his attention more was the expression on your face. “You’re really into dogs, huh?” Hunter said, his tone light and teasing.

You nodded enthusiastically, not taking your eyes off the dog as it playfully rolled around in the grass. “I love dogs! They’re just so cute and fluffy and—”

“And just like you,” Hunter interrupted, his voice dropping to a soft, flirtatious murmur.

You blinked, finally tearing your gaze away from the dog to look up at him. “What do you mean, ‘just like me’?” you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly.

Hunter grinned, clearly enjoying this. “You’re just as cute,” he said, his voice full of playful affection.

You huffed, feeling your cheeks warm at his words. “I’m not cute,” you protested, though your voice lacked conviction. “I’m supposed to be mature. I’m older than you, remember?”

He laughed softly, pulling you a little closer as you continued walking. “Maybe, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re adorable. Especially when you get excited over something like a little dog.”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Hunter, I’m serious. I’m not cute. I’m supposed to be the older, more mature one in this relationship.”

Hunter tilted his head, pretending to consider your words. “You can be both, you know. Mature and cute. But right now, you’re definitely leaning more towards cute.”

You groaned softly, feeling the familiar warmth of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, though there was no real bite to your words.

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back, his grin widening as he gently tugged you to a stop. He turned to face you fully, his eyes meeting yours with that mischievous sparkle that always made your heart skip a beat. “Come on, admit it. You know you’re cute.”

You shook your head stubbornly, though your resolve was already wavering under his intense gaze. “I’m not admitting anything,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest in a futile attempt to look serious.

Hunter just laughed, his hand reaching out to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can deny it all you want,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, affectionate murmur, “but I can see it in your eyes. You’re absolutely adorable, and it’s one of the things I love most about you.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. “You’re just saying that to make me blush,” you accused, though you could already feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Is it working?” he asked, his grin turning slightly smug.

“Maybe,” you admitted, finally giving in as you looked down at your feet, trying to hide your flustered expression.

Hunter’s smile softened, and he reached out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze again. “You know,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth, “I love when you get like this. All flustered and shy. It’s one of the reasons I fell for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt your resolve completely crumble. “You’re really good at this, you know that?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, leaning in closer until his lips were just inches from yours. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he whispered back, his breath warm against your skin.

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It was sweet and gentle, yet filled with a depth of emotion that made your heart race. You kissed him back, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as you melted into the moment.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed as he smiled. “See? Cute and irresistible,” he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

LEE YECHAN

You were sitting across from your boyfriend Yechan, still in your casual class outfit—a fitted leather jacket over a dark tee, paired with jeans and ankle boots. You’d gone for a look that you hoped was a little more fierce, something that matched the image you wanted to project. But as usual, your natural cuteness kept sneaking through, no matter how hard you tried to suppress it.

Yechan was leaning back in his chair, watching you with that easygoing smile that always made your heart skip a beat. He had a relaxed, almost boyish charm, but with a playful edge. The two of you had always been playful with each other, and today was no different. You’d spent most of the meal laughing over inside jokes and sharing stories about your day.

As the waiter set down your plates, Yechan’s eyes lit up at the sight of the food. “This looks amazing,” he said, picking up his chopsticks. He took a bite of his dish and his eyes closed in delight. “Oh, you’ve got to try this,” he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

You smiled, already enjoying your own meal but curious about what he was having. “What is it?”

“It’s some kind of spicy stir-fried beef,” he explained, holding out a piece with his chopsticks. “Here, try it.”

You leaned forward, accepting the bite he offered. Without even thinking, you let out a small, delighted sound, your eyes widening as you chewed. “Oh my gosh, that’s so good!” you exclaimed, the pure joy of the taste evident on your face.

Yechan just stared at you for a moment, his chopsticks frozen mid-air as he watched your reaction. There was something about the way your eyes sparkled with delight, the way you wrinkled your nose slightly as you savored the food, that left him completely captivated. It was a look he’d seen a hundred times before, but it never failed to make his heart skip a beat.

You noticed the way he was looking at you, and your brows furrowed in confusion. “What? Why are you staring at me like that?”

Yechan blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and his lips curled into a soft smile. “Nothing,” he said, shaking his head lightly.

You weren’t having it. “No, seriously, channie. Why are you looking at me like that?” You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes slightly, though the effect was more cute than intimidating.

He hesitated for a moment, his smile widening as he realized there was no way out of this. “It’s just…you’re really cute, you know that?”

The word “cute” immediately made you frown. You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not cute! I’m fierce, okay? I’m supposed to be badass or something.”

Yechan chuckled, leaning forward slightly as he rested his chin in his hand. “You can be fierce and cute at the same time, you know. But right now, you’re definitely more on the cute side.”

You pouted, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “I don’t want to be cute,” you insisted. “You’re younger than me—you’re supposed to be the cute one, not me.”

“But you are,” he said simply, his tone soft but filled with affection. “And it’s one of the things I love most about you.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain your irritation, but it was hard when he was looking at you like that, his expression so full of warmth and fondness. “I hate you,” you muttered, though the corner of your lips betrayed you by twitching upwards.

“And I love you,” Yechan shot back, his playful grin returning as he reached across the table to gently poke your cheek. “Come on, admit it. You know you’re cute.”

“No way,” you said, leaning back and crossing your arms more firmly over your chest. But the way you said it was more playful than serious, and Yechan could see that you were starting to give in.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Admit it, or I’ll keep calling you cute for the rest of the night.”

You stared at him, trying to hold your ground, but the look on his face—those sparkling eyes, that mischievous smile—was too much. You sighed dramatically, finally letting a small smile break through. “Fine, maybe I’m a little cute,” you admitted, though your tone was still filled with mock reluctance. “But just a little.”

Yechan’s smile turned triumphant, and he reached over to take your hand in his. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You’re such a dork, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he replied with a grin, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles gently. “But I’m your dork.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, feeling your heart swell with affection for him. “Yeah,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “You are.”

KIM MINJAE

Laughter and the sound of children’s excitement filled the air as you walked hand-in-hand with Minjae, your boyfriend of a few months. The two of you had decided to spend the day at the amusement park, enjoying the thrill of roller coasters and the sweet treats sold at every corner.

You had worn black jeans, a leather jacket, and combat boots carefully for the day. You wanted to project a fierce image. The truth was, though, that you were naturally cute. Your big, expressive eyes, soft features, and how you tended to get excited about small things made it hard for people to take your “tough girl” act seriously.

Minjae, walking beside you, was a year younger, but there were moments when he felt like the older one. He found your attempt to be fierce endearing, especially because your true nature always came through, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. And honestly, he loved it. But you hated being called cute, and Minjae knew this—though that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it.

The two of you approached the entrance to a towering roller coaster that twisted and turned in all directions. Your eyes widened slightly as you looked up at it, a small part of you feeling nervous despite your best efforts to appear cool.

Minjae noticed, of course. He always noticed. “Nervous?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You shook your head. “No way. I love this stuff,” you said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Minjae chuckled, a sound that made your heart skip a beat. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to act tough.”

Your reaction was immediate. You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, a small pout forming on your lips. “Stop calling me cute,” you demanded, your voice filled with mock irritation.

Minjae’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he looked at you. “But you are cute. Look at you, pouting like that. How can I not call you cute?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to glare at him but failing miserably. “I’m not cute. I’m fierce.”

“Oh, really?” he said, leaning in closer. His tone was teasing, and you could see he was having too much fun with this. “Prove it, then. Let’s see how ‘fierce’ you are on this ride.”

“I will!” you shot back, but your voice faltered slightly as you glanced back up at the roller coaster. It was much taller than you’d remembered.

Minjae chuckled again, and before you could protest further, he took your hand and led you towards the entrance. “Come on, let’s go, baby.”

You tried to keep your cool as you got strapped into the roller coaster, but the nerves were starting to creep in. The ride started with a slow ascent, the click-clack of the chain pulling the cars up the steep track echoing in your ears. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you looked over at Minjae. He was watching you with that same amused expression.

“You’re gonna scream, aren’t you?” he asked, clearly enjoying this way too much.

“No,” you insisted, though you weren’t so sure anymore. “I’m not.”

The coaster reached the top, and for a brief moment, everything was still. The park spread out below, people tiny like ants. Then, with a sudden rush, the ride plummeted downward. Your breath caught in your throat, and before you knew it, you were screaming—loudly. The coaster twisted and turned, throwing you from side to side, your hands gripping the safety bar with all your might.

When the ride finally slowed and came to a stop, you were breathless. Your hair was a mess, and you could feel your cheeks burning. You looked over at Minjae, who was grinning from ear to ear.

“You screamed,” he pointed out, still holding your hand as you both exited the ride.

“Shut up,” you muttered, embarrassed. “That ride was intense.”

Minjae just laughed, pulling you close as you walked away from the roller coaster. “You know, you’re even cuter when you’re flustered.”

You glared up at him, your cheeks still warm. “I told you to stop calling me cute.”

“Then stop being cute,” he replied easily, his voice full of affection.

“I’m not cute!” you insisted, stomping your foot slightly—a move that only made Minjae laugh harder.

“You keep telling yourself that,” he said, leaning down so his face was just inches from yours. “But no matter what you say, I think you’re adorable. And I’m not going to stop saying it.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but before you could, Minjae closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you kissed him back, momentarily forgetting all about your earlier annoyance. When he pulled back, his eyes were twinkling with that familiar mischief.

“You can be fierce and cute, you know,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

You couldn’t help but smile, despite yourself. “Maybe,” you admitted, feeling your resolve weaken in the warmth of his gaze.

Minjae grinned, kissing you on the forehead this time. “That’s my girl.”

PARK JUNMIN

The cafe was cozy, with warm lighting and the gentle chatter of other customers providing a comforting background. You sat across from Junmin, your boyfriend of nearly six months, recounting an amusing story from earlier that day.

You had dressed in light pastel colors, a soft lavender blouse paired with a cream skirt that swished just above your knees. A delicate bow sat perched in your hair, holding back a few stray strands that would otherwise fall into your eyes. The outfit was simple yet cute, though you preferred not to think of it that way. You hated being called cute—something Junmin knew all too well—but it was hard to deny that the look suited you perfectly.

Junmin sat with his chin propped on his hand, his gaze fixed on you. He was trying to listen, really, but the way the sunlight filtered through the window and caught the soft colors of your outfit, the way your eyes sparkled as you animatedly told your story—it was all too much. His thoughts began to drift, and he found himself more focused on the way your lips moved, the slight tilt of your head, and the way you absentmindedly played with the ends of your hair as you spoke.

“And then, I realized I had walked into the wrong room! It was so embarrassing, but everyone just laughed it off…” you were saying. But Junmin wasn’t hearing a word. His mind was entirely occupied with how adorable you looked, with that bow in your hair and the way you were dressed so sweetly. Before he could stop himself, the thought slipped out.

“You’re so cute,” he said, almost dreamily.

You paused mid-sentence, blinking in surprise. “What?”

Junmin snapped out of his trance, realizing what he had just said. But it was too late to take it back. “Uh, I mean, you look really cute today,” he clarified, though he knew it wasn’t going to help.

You frowned, a familiar mix of frustration and embarrassment rising in your chest. “Junmin, I told you, I don’t like being called cute.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender, trying to suppress a smile. “I know, I know. But you really are cute, especially with that bow in your hair. It’s impossible not to think so.”

You pouted slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not cute. I’m just…me.”

“That’s what makes you cute,” Junmin said with a soft chuckle, leaning forward. “The way you get all flustered when I call you cute, the way you dress, the way you smile—it’s all adorable.”

You tried to maintain your frown, but it was difficult with the way he was looking at you. His eyes were so warm and full of affection that it made your heart melt just a little. You opened your mouth to argue, to insist that you weren’t cute, but the words got caught in your throat. Instead, you felt your cheeks heat up, and you quickly looked down at your coffee cup, stirring it absently.

Junmin watched you, completely enamored by your reaction. “You can deny it all you want,” he said softly, reaching across the table to take your hand in his. “But you’re cute, and I love every bit of it.”

You glanced up at him through your lashes, the corners of your lips twitching as you tried not to smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you’re irresistible,” he replied with a grin, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “So, are you going to keep arguing, or are you going to admit that you’re cute?”

You shook your head, a small laugh escaping despite yourself. “I’m not going to admit it because it’s not true.”

Junmin leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You might not think so, but every time you pout like that, I just want to kiss you.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, and before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away, the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of the kiss making your heart flutter.

When he pulled back, Junmin looked at you with that same adoring expression, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles, as a content smile spread on his face. “See? Adorable,” he murmured.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but the smile on your face was undeniable now. “Fine, maybe just a little bit,” you admitted, though your tone was teasing.

Junmin laughed softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’ll take that as a win.”

CHOI SUMIN

You and Sumin had planned to study together, a quiet, productive evening to prepare for the upcoming exams. Textbooks and notebooks were spread out on his desk, but the focus had already shifted from the study materials to something else entirely.

You were sitting cross-legged on his bed, trying to concentrate on the notes in front of you. You had chosen your outfit carefully—a fitted top and jeans that you hoped would give you a more mature vibe. But no matter what you wore, your natural cuteness always seemed to shine through. Your big, expressive eyes, soft features, and the way you couldn’t help but act a little shy around Sumin all contributed to the aura of sweetness that surrounded you.

And Sumin noticed. He always noticed. You’d been dating for a few months now, and while he admired your efforts to appear more grown-up, he found your natural state absolutely irresistible. The way you pouted when something confused you, the way your cheeks flushed when you got flustered—it drove him crazy. He loved to tease you about it, even if he knew it embarrassed you.

Today was no different. As you sat there, nibbling on the end of your pencil and trying to focus on your notes, Sumin couldn’t take his eyes off you. You had tied your hair back in a loose ponytail, but a few strands had escaped, framing your face in a way that made you look even more adorable. He leaned back in his chair, his textbook forgotten, and just watched you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You were so engrossed in your studying that you didn’t notice his gaze at first. But when you finally looked up, you caught him staring. “What?” you asked, blinking in confusion.

Sumin grinned, shaking his head slightly. “Nothing,” he said, though the mischief in his eyes told you otherwise.

You frowned, feeling a familiar flush creep up your neck. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked, playing innocent.

“Like…” You struggled to find the words. “Like I’m some kind of cute animal or something.”

Sumin chuckled softly, pushing away from his desk and walking over to the bed. He sat down beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body next to yours. “I can’t help it,” he admitted, reaching out to gently brush a stray hair from your face. “You’re just so cute.”

You groaned, dropping your pencil onto the bedspread. “I’m not cute, Sumin. I'm not trying to.”

He tilted his head, pretending to consider your words. “Hmm, I see what you’re going for,” he said, his tone teasing. “But honestly, I think you’re at your most attractive when you’re just being you. And that happens to be really, really fucking cute.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes even as your heart fluttered at his words. “I hate you.”

As a response, he simply closed the distance between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. You tried to hold on to your frustration, but it melted away almost instantly under his gentle touch.

“Susu,” you murmured, your voice a mix of exasperation and affection.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “What?” he asked, his tone light but filled with adoration. “I’m just appreciating how lucky I am to have a girlfriend as cute as you.”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re so whipped,” you accused, though the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth betrayed your attempt to sound stern.

Sumin didn’t even try to deny it. “Totally whipped,” he agreed easily, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “And I don’t mind one bit.”

You shook your head, but you couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through your chest. Sumin always had this effect on you—he made you feel cherished, adored, even when he was teasing you. Especially when he was teasing you.

Before you could protest further, Sumin gently pushed you back onto the bed, hovering over you with that same mischievous grin. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, a mix of excitement and anticipation flooding through you.

“Sumin, what are you—” you started, but he cut you off with a kiss, this one soft and sweet against your lips.

He pulled back just enough to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re too adorable for your own good, you know that?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but all that came out was a soft laugh as he began peppering your face with kisses. First your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally back to your lips.

“Sumin!” you squealed between giggles, trying to squirm away, but he just laughed along with you, his arms caging you in as he continued his assault of kisses.

“I can’t help it,” he said between kisses. “You’re just too cute, and I’m completely whipped for you, baby.”

By the time he finally stopped, you were both breathless, your faces inches apart. You stared up at him, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. The teasing had stopped, replaced by a warm, tender expression in his eyes.

“You know,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his cheek, “as much as I hate being called cute… I don’t mind it so much when it’s you.”

Sumin’s smile softened, and he leaned down to press one last, lingering kiss to your lips. “I’m glad to hear that,” he whispered against your lips. “Because I’m never going to stop thinking it.”

HAM JINSIK

You were curled up on Jinsik's living room couch, reading your book, while Jinsik sat across from you, scrolling through his phone. It was one of those lazy afternoons where neither of you had any pressing plans, so you had decided to spend it together, enjoying each other's company.

Jinsik, your boyfriend of nearly six months, was seated on the opposite end of the couch, his legs stretched out, casually leaning against the armrest. Every now and then, you caught yourself stealing glances at him. He was effortlessly handsome. Sometimes, you had to remind yourself that he was real, that this gorgeous guy was actually your boyfriend.

What you didn’t know was that Jinsik often felt the same way about you. Despite your attempts to appear mature and sophisticated, he found you irresistibly cute. Your big, expressive eyes, the way you unconsciously pouted when you were lost in thought, and the soft, feminine way you carried yourself—it all drove him crazy. And as much as he loved when you tried to play the role of the confident, mature girlfriend, he adored the cute side of you even more.

Today, though, Jinsik was in a particularly playful mood. The last few days had been busy for both of you, and now that you finally had some time alone together, he couldn’t resist the urge to tease you. He had been waiting for the right moment, and as you sighed softly, flipping another page of your book, he decided that moment had arrived.

“Hey,” he called out, his tone light and teasing.

You looked up, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“You know,” he began, setting his phone down and leaning forward slightly, “you’re really cute when you’re focused like that.”

You rolled your eyes, closing the book and setting it on the coffee table. “Jinsik, we’ve been over this. You’re the cute one in this relationship. You’re younger, remember? So, by default, that makes you the cute one.”

Jinsik grinned, but instead of backing down like he usually did, he decided to push a little further. “Maybe I’m cute,” he agreed, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re cute too.”

You shook your head, trying to maintain your composure. “Nope. I’m older, so I’m supposed to be mature and sophisticated, not cute.”

“But you are cute,” he insisted, scooting closer to you on the couch. “Like, ridiculously cute. It’s honestly a little unfair.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, but you refused to give in. “Babe, seriously. You’re not going to win this one. I’m not cute.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying this more than he should. “Oh, I’m definitely gonna win this one,” he said confidently, reaching out to gently poke your side. “You know, the more you deny it, the cuter you look.”

You tried to bat his hand away, but he was quick, dodging your attempt and poking you again, this time on the other side. “Stop that!” you protested, squirming slightly.

“Admit it,” he said, his grin widening. “Admit that you’re cute.”

“No!” you insisted, though your voice was starting to waver as you tried not to laugh.

Jinsik, now fully committed to his playful teasing, reached over and gently grabbed your wrists, holding them above your head as he leaned in close, his face just inches from yours. “Come on,” he coaxed, his voice dropping to a soft, playful whisper. “Just say it. Just once.”

You stared up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. He was so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. “You’re being ridiculous,” you said, trying to sound stern, but the proximity was making it hard to focus.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “but you’re still cute.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile. He was so persistent, so annoyingly charming, that it was impossible not to feel your resolve slipping. But you were determined not to cave. “You’re not going to make me say it,” you declared, though your voice lacked the conviction you were aiming for.

Jinsik’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in even closer, his lips now almost brushing against yours. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t think of anything to say. All you could focus on was how close he was, how his playful grin made your heart race even faster. He was irresistible, and he knew it. Before you could muster a reply, he tilted his head slightly and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek.

Your resolve crumbled entirely. “Okay, fine!” you finally blurted out, your voice breathless. “Maybe I’m a little cute, but just a little.”

Jinsik’s grin widened in triumph. “I knew it,” he said, releasing your wrists and letting his hands slide down to cup your face gently. “And for the record, you’re a lot cute, not just a little.”

You huffed in mock annoyance, but the smile on your face gave you away. “You’re terrible,” you muttered, though there was no real heat in your words.

“And you’re adorable,” he replied, his voice softening as he leaned in to close the distance between you. “And now that we’ve established that…”

Before you could respond, Jinsik kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a slow, tender kiss that made your heart flutter. His hands slipped from your face to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

When he finally pulled back, just enough to look into your eyes, he was smiling that same playful, yet affectionate smile that always made your heart skip a beat. “You know,” he murmured, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek, “I love that you’re both cute and mature. It’s one of the many reasons why I’m crazy about you.”

CHOI HYUNWOO

The crisp autumn air was filled with laughter and distant shrieks as you and Hyunwoo walked through the bustling Halloween festival. The event was alive with the energy of costumed people, flickering jack-o'-lanterns, and spooky decorations adorning every corner. The centerpiece of the night was the haunted house—an old, creaky mansion.

You had insisted on going, determined to prove to yourself (and to Hyunwoo) that you could handle it. You wanted to appear fearless, confident, and maybe even a bit daring. But as you stood outside the haunted house, staring up at the looming, ominous structure, you couldn’t deny the nervous flutter in your stomach. Hyunwoo, ever observant, noticed the slight tremble in your hands as your jacket.

Hyunwoo, your boyfriend of several months, was handsome, undeniably so, with an air of arrogance that he wore like a second skin. But despite his teasing and his playful arrogance, you knew he cared for you deeply. Tonight, though, he seemed especially entertained by your attempts to appear brave.

“You’re not scared, are you?” Hyunwoo asked, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he noticed the way you kept glancing at the entrance of the haunted house.

“Of course not,” you replied quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly. You straightened your back and tried to keep your voice steady. “It’s just a haunted house. How bad can it be?”

Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow, his smile growing. “Really? Because you look a little pale. You sure you’re not going to scream and cling to me at the first jump scare?”

You shot him a glare, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your cheeks. “I won’t. I’m going to be fine.”

He chuckled, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes. “We’ll see about that,” he said, his tone playful. “But I’m warning you now, if you do get scared and grab onto me, I won’t let you forget it.”

With that, he took your hand—his touch warm and reassuring, despite his teasing words—and led you towards the entrance. The creaky door groaned as it opened, revealing a dark, narrow hallway lined with flickering candles and eerie decorations. You swallowed hard, steeling yourself as you stepped inside, with Hyunwoo right beside you.

The haunted house was immediately unsettling. The sound of distant whispers, the creaking floorboards beneath your feet, and the occasional flicker of shadowy figures darting in and out of view all combined to create an atmosphere of pure tension. You tried to maintain your composure, but every nerve in your body was on high alert.

It didn’t take long for the first scare to happen. A ghostly figure suddenly lunged out from a hidden corner, letting out a bone-chilling wail. Without thinking, you let out a startled yelp and instinctively grabbed onto Hyunwoo’s arm, clinging to him tightly. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could feel the adrenaline surging through your veins.

Hyunwoo burst out laughing, clearly amused by your reaction. “Not scared, huh?” he teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. “You’re practically shaking, babe.”

You tried to regain your composure, but the haunted house wasn’t giving you a break. More scares came—creepy dolls, sudden loud noises, and eerie figures that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Each time, you found yourself clinging to Hyunwoo, who seemed to be enjoying this far more than he should.

“Woo, stop laughing,” you hissed after a particularly loud scream escaped your lips. “This isn’t funny!”

“It is,” he replied, his voice dripping with amusement. “This is hilarious. You’re so cute when you’re scared.”

You groaned, trying to push away from him, but he kept you close, his grip firm yet comforting. “I’m not cute,” you insisted, though your voice trembled slightly. “I’m just… I’m just startled, that’s all.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, his tone clearly not convinced. “But I gotta say, this is the best part of the night. I should take you to haunted houses more often.”

You would have retorted, but another scare had you burying your face against his chest, your hands gripping his jacket tightly. Hyunwoo’s laughter softened as he held you closer, rubbing your back gently. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice still tinged with humor but also genuine affection. “I’m here. I won’t let anything actually get you.”

Despite his teasing, his presence was incredibly reassuring, and you found yourself relaxing just a little. “You’re impossible, you know that?” you mumbled into his chest, your voice muffled.

“And you’re adorable,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you if you admit it.”

You lifted your head to glare at him, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way you were still holding onto him. “I’m not admitting anything,” you said stubbornly.

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Fine, be stubborn. But you can’t deny that you’re clinging to me right now.”

You were about to argue, but you realized he was right. Your hands were still gripping his jacket, and you were pressed against him as if he was your only lifeline in the haunted house. Sighing, you reluctantly let go, though you stayed close to him as you made your way through the rest of the house.

By the time you finally exited the haunted house, you were visibly shaken. The cold night air hit you like a welcome relief, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. Hyunwoo, ever the observer, noticed the way your hands were trembling slightly, and his expression softened.

“Hey,” he said gently, turning to face you. “You okay, baby?”

You nodded, though your body was still on edge. “Yeah, just… that was more intense than I expected.”

Hyunwoo’s smug demeanor softened as he reached out, taking both of your hands in his. “You did good,” he said, his voice sincere. “I’m proud of you for making it through. Even if you were scared.”

You pouted slightly, still a little embarrassed by how you had reacted. “You’re going to tease me about this forever, aren’t you?”

He chuckled, nodding. “Oh, definitely. But not because you were scared—because you were so cute trying to be brave.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a soft kiss, his lips warm and reassuring against yours. The kiss was slow and sweet, a stark contrast to the adrenaline-filled moments you’d just experienced. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling with that familiar, playful light.

“You know I love you, right?” he whispered, his voice soft and affectionate.

You smiled, finally letting go of your stubbornness. “Yeah, I know,” you replied, leaning into him. “I love you too, even if you’re a smug, arrogant tease.”

You and Yunho had been together for nearly two years, sharing an apartment that had become your sanctuary. The two of you had built a life of comfort and love, one that was filled with laughter, late-night conversations, and lazy evenings spent in front of the TV. Tonight was no different. You were curled up on the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs, while Yunho sat beside you, one arm wrapped around your shoulders as you both watched a random show on TV. He was always so sweet, so attentive, and you adored him for it. He was the kind of boyfriend that made your heart flutter with joy, and you often found yourself thinking how lucky you were to have him.

"Want me to get us some snacks?" Yunho asked, his voice soft and warm.

You smiled up at him, nodding. "Yes, please. You know I can't resist popcorn."

He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before standing up and heading to the kitchen. As he disappeared around the corner, you picked up the remote and began flipping through channels. The TV stopped on a news channel, where a reporter was standing in front of a police station, speaking about the latest updates on a serial killer that had been terrorizing the city. You hesitated for a moment, your curiosity piqued. You weren't usually one to watch the news, especially regarding such dark topics, but something about this story drew you in.

The reporter’s voice was grave. "Police have released a sketch of the suspect, based on eyewitness accounts. The individual is considered extremely dangerous, and citizens are advised to stay indoors and report any suspicious activity immediately."

Your heart froze as the screen flashed to a detailed sketch of the suspect. The image was unmistakable—high cheekbones, sharp jawline, intense eyes that seemed to bore into your soul. It was Yunho. There was no mistaking it. The man you had shared your life with for the past two years was being identified as a serial killer.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. This couldn't be true. It had to be a mistake, a horrible, horrible mistake. Yunho was the most loving person you had ever met. How could he possibly be capable of such heinous acts?

Footsteps approached, and your heart began to race. Yunho returned from the kitchen, a bowl of popcorn in hand and a gentle smile on his face. But as his eyes flickered to the TV screen and he saw the sketch, his expression changed instantly. The warmth in his eyes turned cold, calculating. The sweet, caring Yunho you knew vanished in an instant, replaced by someone—or something—completely different.

"You know," he said quietly, his voice devoid of the tenderness it usually held.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing to process what was happening. "Yunho... what is this? This can't be you. This has to be some kind of mistake, right?"

He set the popcorn down on the coffee table and slowly turned to face you fully. His eyes were dark, void of any emotion. "It's not a mistake, love," he said, his voice unnervingly calm. "I was kinda hoping you wouldn’t find out. At least, not like this."

Panic surged through you. The man standing before you, the one you had loved so deeply, was not who you thought he was. You began to tremble, the reality of the situation sinking in.

"What... what have you done?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

He stepped closer, and you instinctively moved back, but there was nowhere to go. You were trapped between him and the armrest of the couch.

"I did what I had to do," he said simply. "And now, you know. You know everything." His gaze turned predatory, a twisted smile creeping onto his face. "And I can’t let you run around with that knowledge."

You shook your head desperately. "No, Yunho, please! I won't say anything, I promise. We can forget about this, we can pretend I never saw it. Just... just let this go."

He laughed softly, a sound that chilled you to the bone. "Oh, darling, you’re so sweet,’’ he traced along your jawline with his fingers smoothly, making your breath itch. ‘’But you know better than that. Once you know the truth, there’s no going back, love. You should have never turned to that channel."

You realized then that there was no reasoning with him. He had transformed into someone else entirely, someone who no longer cared for you in the way he once did. You felt a surge of fear and adrenaline, and before you could think, you bolted from the couch, running toward the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" he called after you, his voice laced with amusement. "You can hide all you want, but I will always find you, y/n. There’s no escaping me."

His words sent a shiver down your spine as you stumbled up the stairs, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You had to get away, had to find a place where he couldn’t reach you. You reached the top of the stairs and darted into the bedroom, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

The closet. You threw open the door and squeezed inside, pulling the door shut as quietly as you could. The darkness enveloped you, and you pressed a hand over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound of your heavy breathing.

For a moment, all you could hear was the deafening silence of the house, your mind racing with fear and confusion. How could this be happening? How could the man you loved, the man who had been so gentle and kind, be capable of such monstrosity?

But as you crouched there, hiding in the darkness, a strange realization began to creep into your mind. The way he had looked at you, the way his voice had changed when he revealed his true nature—it should have terrified you, and it did, but it also stirred something else inside you. Something you hadn’t expected. An involuntary thrill ran through you, the idea of his dark side awakening a primal, forbidden desire. You could feel your panties getting soaked with the thrill of hiding, what was wrong with you? 

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of those thoughts. This was not the time. You couldn’t afford to be distracted. Yunho was no longer the man you loved; he was a threat, and you needed to survive.

Suddenly, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps echoed up the stairs. He was coming for you. The door to the bedroom creaked open, and you could hear his soft chuckle.

"Where are you hiding, love?" His voice was a singsong mockery, dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

You held your breath, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. The closet door was thin, and you knew it wouldn’t take much for him to find you. But you had to try. You had to stay as still and as silent as possible.

The footsteps grew closer, and then stopped right outside the closet. You could feel his presence, could almost sense him on the other side of the door. The silence was suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity.

And then, the closet door was yanked open.

There he stood, his dark eyes gleaming with a twisted kind of satisfaction. He found you. Of course he did.

"Found you," he said softly, almost lovingly.

Before you could react, before you could even think of what to do, his hand shot out, grabbing you by the arm and yanking you out of the closet with a force that sent you stumbling into him. His grip was ironclad, unyielding, and as he pulled you against him, you could feel the raw power radiating from his body. There was no escape.

In one swift motion, Yunho spun you around and slammed you against the wall, pinning you there with his body. His forearm pressed against your throat, restricting your air flow just enough to make you gasp, your hands instinctively flying up to try and push him away, but he was too strong. You were trapped, completely at his mercy.

“You shouldn’t have hidden from me,” he hissed, his face inches from yours. His breath was warm against your skin, contrasting with the coldness of his actions. “You know there’s no point in running. I always find what’s mine.”

Your vision blurred slightly as your lungs struggled for air, your chest heaving against the pressure of his arm. Fear coursed through you, but beneath it, something else stirred—a dark, unwanted thrill that you couldn’t quite suppress. It twisted your fear into something more complicated, something you didn’t want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore.

Yunho’s free hand reached into his pocket, and when he pulled it out, a glint of silver caught your eye. It was a kitchen knife, the blade sharp and deadly, and the sight of it sent a fresh wave of terror through you. He brought the knife up to your face, the cold metal grazing your skin as he dragged it slowly, deliberately, from your cheekbone down to your jawline.

“Should I kill you with this?” he murmured, his voice almost thoughtful as he traced the blade along your skin. “Or should I use my bare hands? Crush the life out of you until there’s nothing left but your pretty little corpse?”

You whimpered, the sound barely escaping your lips as the knife continued its cruel path. The coldness of the blade was a stark contrast to the heat building within you, a confusing mix of fear and arousal that left you trembling. You didn’t want this—didn’t want to feel this way—but you couldn’t help it. The danger, the way he held your life in his hands, the way his sheer presence overwhelmed you, it all triggered something deep within you that you didn’t understand but couldn’t deny.

Yunho’s eyes narrowed as he watched you, as he felt your body react to his touch in a way that you couldn’t hide. A twisted smile curled his lips, and he let out a dark, mocking laugh. He could see your inner thighs glistening as your arousal dripped past your panties. 

“Oh, what’s this?” he taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. “Are you actually enjoying this? Does the thought of me killing you turn you on?”

You shook your head desperately, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you struggled against the sensations flooding your body. But he wasn’t fooled. He could feel the way your pulse quickened under his arm, could see the way your body betrayed you, and it only seemed to amuse him more.

“What a shame,” he murmured, his voice suddenly soft, almost regretful. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful, you know that? I actually loved you. But now, look at you. You’re pathetic, clinging to life even as the idea of your own death turns you on. How sick is that?”

A shudder ran through you at his words, the mixture of disgust and arousal twisting into a knot of confusion and shame deep within you. You hated him for what he was doing, for the way he was toying with you, but you couldn’t deny the raw and fucked up response he was pulling from you. It was as if he had tapped into some dark corner of your psyche that you didn’t even know existed, and now that it was unleashed, you couldn’t control it.

“You know,” he continued, dragging the knife down to your throat, just above where his arm still pressed against you. “I could slit your throat right here, right now. Watch the life drain from your eyes as you bleed out. Or,” he paused, his smile widening, “I could do it with my hands, feel your pulse weaken under my fingers until you’re nothing but a memory. I haven’t made up my mind yet, what do you prefer, love? Mmh?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were not just tears of fear—they were tears of frustration, of confusion, of the overwhelming intensity of the situation. You didn’t want to die, didn’t want this twisted game to continue, but the way he held you, the way he controlled every breath you took, it sent a surge of dark desire through you that you couldn’t stop.

Yunho’s smile grew crueler as he saw your tears, his mockery turning into something more vicious. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? You sick little thing,” he sneered. “Does the thought of being killed by me make you feel alive? Does it turn you on that much?”

You choked on a sob, your hands weakly gripping his arm as you tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge. His grip tightened, the knife pressing just a little harder against your throat, not enough to break the skin, but enough to remind you how close you were to the edge. You shook your head desperately, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you tried to deny the accusations. But the truth was, you couldn’t hide it—not from him. The way your body responded to him, the way fear twisted into a sick kind of desire deep in your core, it was all too obvious. And he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

“Don’t lie to me,” Yunho growled, his voice taking on a harsher edge. His hand, still pinning you by the throat, tightened its grip just enough to make your vision blur. “You know I hate liars. Or do you want to see me mad? Because believe me, darling, you don’t want that.”

The threat hung heavy in the air, and you could feel your body trembling beneath his touch. The fear was overwhelming, a suffocating presence that made your skin prickle and your heart race—but beneath it all, the dark thrill of it was undeniable. You hated it, hated how you couldn’t control the way your body responded to his words, to the knife against your skin, to the raw power he exuded. It was twisted and wrong, but it was there, pulsing beneath your fear like a dark undercurrent.

“Say it,” Yunho commanded, his voice cutting through your thoughts like the knife at your throat. “Say how much this turns you on. How much you love being at my mercy.”

You bit your lip, trying to keep the words from spilling out, trying to hold on to some shred of dignity. But Yunho was relentless. His free hand slid down your body, his fingers brushing over your waist before pressing between your legs, finding the heat and wetness there. He smirked, the sensation making you jolt in surprise and shame.

“Oh, what’s this?” he mocked, his tone dripping with condescension. “Soaking wet already? I knew you were a little slut for this kind of thing, but I didn’t think you’d be this eager.”

You whimpered, your face burning with humiliation as he rubbed against your soaked panties, his touch deliberate and slow, designed to torment you. The knife remained steady at your throat, a constant, icy reminder of the danger you were in. He had you completely trapped—body and mind—and he was taking full advantage of it.

“You’re disgusting,” he sneered, his voice filled with venom. “Getting off on this—on me threatening to kill you. You’re nothing but a pathetic little whore, aren’t you? My pathetic little whore.”

The words stung, cutting deeper than the knife ever could, but the worst part was how they sent another wave of unwanted arousal through you. His dominance, his cruelty, the way he degraded you—it all twisted together in a sick, intoxicating mix that made your knees weak, made you crave more even as you despised yourself for it.

“Admit it,” Yunho pressed, his voice hardening as he continued to toy with you, his fingers sliding over your wetness and grazed at your clit. “Admit that you love this, or I swear I’ll make you regret it.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought to keep control, but it was no use. He had broken you down, layer by layer, stripping away any resistance you might have had. The fear of what he might do if you didn’t comply—mixed with the sick pleasure you couldn’t help but feel—finally shattered your resolve.

“Yes,” you gasped out, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and shame. “I… I love it.”

Yunho’s smirk widened, a dark satisfaction lighting up his eyes as he heard your confession. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I knew you would. My little slut, always so desperate for attention, even if it’s like this. It’s pathetic, really, but I can’t say I’m not enjoying it.”

He pressed the knife just a little harder against your throat, enough to make you gasp in a mix of fear and twisted pleasure. “Maybe I should reward you,” he mused, his tone deceptively light. “Or maybe I should punish you for being such a depraved little thing. What do you think, hmm?”

You were trembling uncontrollably now, your body reacting to his words in ways you couldn’t control. The threat of the knife, the humiliation of his degrading words, the way he held all the power—it was all too much, and it made you feel dizzy with a mix of terror and desire.

“Please…” you whispered, though you weren’t even sure what you were pleading for. Relief? Release? Escape? Or more of his twisted, cruel dominance? The line between fear and desire had blurred so much you could no longer tell the difference.

Yunho chuckled softly, a low, sinister sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Please, what?” he mocked, his tone cruel and teasing. “Please hurt you more? Please fuck you until you can’t think straight? Or do you want me to kill you, just like I said I would? Tell me, sweetheart, what do you want?”

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice breaking as tears finally spilled over, mixing with the shame and arousal that burned in your veins.

“Such a fucking mess,” Yunho sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “You know,” he began, his voice laced with mockery, “I used to think you were so pure, so innocent. But look at you now. You can’t even figure out what you want. But that’s okay, because I do. I know exactly what you need.”

His fingers pressed harder against your core, rubbing slow, torturous circles over your clit as the knife remained poised at your throat. The dual sensations—pleasure and danger—melded together in a way that made your head spin, made you feel like you were on the edge of something terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

With that, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was rough, dominant, and full of possessive hunger. The kiss was a stark contrast to the cold blade against your throat, the heat of his body overpowering you as he claimed your mouth with brutal intensity.

You kissed him back, unable to resist the way he overwhelmed you, the way he made you feel like you were losing yourself completely to his will. And maybe that was exactly what you wanted—what you needed. To be consumed by him, to be taken and controlled.

“You were always so sweet, so obedient,” he continued, his tone almost conversational as his fingers slipped past the fabric of your panties and plunged inside you without warning for the second time. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, a mix of pain and pleasure hitting you like a tidal wave. His movements were rough, aggressive, and completely devoid of any tenderness. He wasn’t making love to you like he was used to—he was claiming you, using you, and the knowledge of that only made the knot of desire in your core tighten further.

“What happened to you, huh?” he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension as he pumped his fingers in and out of you with a brutal rhythm. “You used to be so good, so innocent. Now look at you, getting off on being treated like a dirty little whore. It’s pathetic.”

His words made you wince, but they also sent a jolt of arousal through you that you couldn’t control. Yunho noticed, of course, and his cruel smile widened as he could feel your gummy walls tightening around his fingers. He continued to finger you, his pace unrelenting, almost punishing.

“You like this, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear. “You like it when I’m rough with you. When I remind you of how worthless you really are.”

You wanted to protest, wanted to deny the accusation, but the words caught in your throat. The feeling of his fingers inside you, the sharp contrast of the cold knife against your skin as he continued to play with it—it was all too much. You were drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions, of fear, shame, and desire that left you utterly helpless.

Yunho’s free hand continued to toy with the knife, the blade tracing a delicate line from your throat down to your collarbone, then lower still, until it hovered just above your chest. The sensation of the cold metal against your heated skin sent shivers down your spine, the danger of it making your heart race even faster.

“You’re so easy,” Yunho sneered, his fingers curling inside you, hitting a spot that made you moan loudly despite yourself. “So desperate for attention, for any kind of touch, even if it’s like this. How pathetic can you be?”

Tears of frustration and humiliation welled up in your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the way your body responded to his cruel touch, couldn’t stop the wave of pleasure that built with every rough thrust of his fingers. He could see it in your eyes, could feel the way your body clenched around his fingers, and it only made him more vicious.

“Does it feel good?” he mocked, his tone icy as the knife trailed down your chest, resting just above your pounding heart. “Does it feel good to be used like this, to be treated like nothing more than a plaything for my amusement?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape, but Yunho wasn’t having it. He pressed the knife a little harder against your skin, just enough to make you gasp in fear.

“Fucking answer me,” he demanded, his voice dark and commanding. “Tell me how much you love it, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Yes, fuck” you choked out, the tears spilling over as the shame and arousal tangled together into something you could no longer separate. “I love it.”

Yunho let out a harsh laugh, his fingers plunging into you even harder, the force of it making your knees buckle. “Of course, you do,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re nothing but a pathetic little slut, aren’t you? My pathetic little slut, who gets off on being degraded and hurt. It’s almost sad, really.”

He feigned a look of sympathy, his eyes narrowing as he pretended to consider your plight. “Maybe I should feel bad for you,” he mused, his tone mocking. “But then again, why should I? You’re enjoying every second of this, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, the mix of pain and pleasure becoming almost unbearable as he continued to finger you with a roughness that bordered on cruelty. The knife in his hand was a constant reminder of the danger you were in, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat building in your core. It was a twisted, dark fantasy come to life, and as much as you hated to admit it, it was turning you on more than anything ever had.

Yunho could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you battled with your own desires, and it only spurred him on. “I can feel how wet you are,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “So fucking wet, just from me being mean to you. You’re sick, you know that? Almost as sick as me.”

His words cut deep, but they only served to heighten the arousal that was building to a fever pitch inside you. You hated yourself for it, hated how much you wanted this, needed this. But there was no denying the way your body responded to him, no denying the way his dominance and cruelty made you feel more alive than anything else ever had.

Certainly, here's the scene with the tone and details you requested:

Yunho’s eyes glinted with a sadistic pleasure as he watched you, completely pinned against the wall. His demeanor was so different now—gone was the sweet, caring boyfriend you once knew. In his place stood someone dark, cruel, and twisted, a man who reveled in your fear and submission. The kindness that used to fill his eyes was now replaced with a cold, calculated malice. It was like looking into the eyes of a stranger, and yet, some part of you was still inexplicably drawn to him.

“You know,” Yunho began, his voice laced with mockery, “I used to think you were so pure, so innocent. But look at you now.” He slid his hand between your legs, his fingers finding the wetness there with an ease that made you shudder. “Soaking wet just from the thought of me hurting you. Disgusting.”

His words cut deep, filling you with shame, but that shame only seemed to heighten the twisted arousal coursing through your veins. You hated yourself for it, hated how your body betrayed you, but there was no denying the way you reacted to him. He knew it, and he was going to exploit every last bit of it.

“You were always so sweet, so obedient,” Yunho continued, his tone almost conversational as his fingers slipped past the fabric of your panties and plunged inside you without warning. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, a mix of pain and pleasure hitting you like a tidal wave. His movements were rough, aggressive, and completely devoid of any tenderness. He wasn’t making love to you—he was claiming you, using you, and the knowledge of that only made the knot of desire in your core tighten further.

“What happened to you, huh?” he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension as he pumped his fingers in and out of you with a brutal rhythm. “You used to be so good, so innocent. Now look at you, getting off on being treated like a dirty little whore. It’s pathetic.”

His words made you wince, but they also sent a jolt of arousal through you that you couldn’t control. Yunho noticed, of course, and his cruel smile widened as he continued to finger you, his pace unrelenting, almost punishing.

“You like this, don’t you?” he taunted, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear. “You like it when I’m rough with you, when I degrade you. When I remind you of how worthless you really are.”

You wanted to protest, wanted to deny the accusation, but the words caught in your throat. The feeling of his fingers inside you, the sharp contrast of the cold knife against your skin as he continued to play with it—it was all too much. You were drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions, of fear, shame, and desire that left you utterly helpless.

Yunho’s free hand continued to toy with the knife, the blade tracing a delicate line from your throat down to your collarbone, then lower still, until it hovered just above your chest. The sensation of the cold metal against your heated skin sent shivers down your spine, the danger of it making your heart race even faster.

“You’re so easy,” Yunho sneered, his fingers curling inside you, hitting a spot that made you moan despite yourself. “So desperate for attention, for any kind of touch, even if it’s like this. How pathetic can you be?”

Tears of frustration and humiliation welled up in your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the way your body responded to his cruel touch, couldn’t stop the wave of pleasure that built with every rough thrust of his fingers. He could see it in your eyes, could feel the way your body clenched around his fingers, and it only made him more vicious.

“Does it feel good?” he mocked, his tone icy as the knife trailed down your chest, resting just above your pounding heart. “Does it feel good to be used like this, to be treated like nothing more than a plaything for my amusement?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to escape, but Yunho wasn’t having it. He pressed the knife a little harder against your skin, just enough to make you gasp in fear.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice dark and commanding. “Tell me how much you love it, or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Yes,” you choked out, the tears spilling over as the shame and arousal tangled together into something you could no longer separate. “I love it.”

Yunho let out a harsh laugh, his fingers plunging into you even harder, the force of it making your knees buckle. “Of course, you do,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You’re nothing but a pathetic little slut, aren’t you? My pathetic little slut, who gets off on being degraded and hurt. It’s almost sad, really.”

He feigned a look of sympathy, his eyes narrowing as he pretended to consider your plight. “Maybe I should feel bad for you,” he mused, his tone mocking. “But then again, why should I? You’re enjoying every second of this, aren’t you?”

You whimpered, the mix of pain and pleasure becoming almost unbearable as he continued to finger you with a roughness that bordered on cruelty. The knife in his hand was a constant reminder of the danger you were in, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat building in your core. It was a twisted, dark fantasy come to life, and as much as you hated to admit it, it was turning you on more than anything ever had.

Yunho could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you battled with your own desires, and it only spurred him on. “I can feel how wet you are,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “So fucking wet, just from me being mean to you. You’re sick, you know that? Absolutely sick.”

His words cut deep, but they only served to heighten the arousal that was building to a fever pitch inside you. You hated yourself for it, hated how much you wanted this, needed this. But there was no denying the way your body responded to him, no denying the way his dominance and cruelty made you feel more alive than anything else ever had.

“You want to come, don’t you?” Yunho taunted, his fingers still working you mercilessly. “You want to come from this, from being treated like the worthless slut you are.”

You nodded, the tears streaming down your face as the pleasure built to an unbearable level, your body betraying you completely. You were on the edge, teetering between shame and ecstasy, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. You tried to grip the wall, but in vain, as your legs were starting to give up on you. 

“Beg for it,” Yunho commanded, his voice a low growl. “Beg me to let you come, or I’ll stop right now and leave you empty.”

“Please,” you gasped, the desperation clear in your husky voice. “Please let me come. I need it. I need you.”

Yunho’s cruel smile widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he heard your desperate plea. “That’s more like it,” he purred, his fingers picking up speed, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Come for me, slut. Show me how much you love being used like this.”

And with that, your body finally gave in, the wave of pleasure crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and gasping for breath. Yunho watched you with a mixture of contempt and satisfaction, his fingers slowing but not stopping as he dragged out every last bit of your orgasm, making sure you felt every second of it.

As the last waves of pleasure washed over you, Yunho withdrew his fingers, leaving you panting and weak against the wall. He wiped his fingers on your shirt, his eyes cold and distant as he took in your disheveled, broken state.

“On your knees,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You swallowed hard, the implication of his words sending a fresh wave of shame and arousal through you. But you knew you had no choice. Slowly, you sank back to your knees, the cold floor pressing against your skin as you looked up at him, waiting for whatever he had planned next.

Yunho watched you with a dark satisfaction, his lips curling into a smirk as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. “You know what to do,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “And you’d better do it well, or you’ll regret it.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pulled himself free, the sight of him hard and ready making your mouth go dry. You had done this for him before, of course, but never like this—never with him looming over you, his eyes filled with a cruel, commanding power that made you feel small and insignificant.

“Go on,” Yunho taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. “Show me how much you love being my little slut.”

With trembling hands, you reached out to take him in your grasp, your fingers wrapping around the heat of him as you looked up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and submission. He was so different now—so much darker, more dominant, more… everything. And despite the fear, despite the shame that gnawed at your insides, you couldn’t deny the way he made you feel, the way his dominance called to something deep and primal within you.

Slowly, you leaned forward, your lips parting as you took him into your mouth. The taste of him was familiar, yet the context made it feel entirely different—like you were doing something forbidden, something dark and twisted. Yunho let out a low groan as you began to move, your tongue swirling around him, your lips sliding up and down his length in a rhythm that you knew would please him.

But Yunho wasn’t going to let you off easy. His hand came down to tangle in your hair, gripping it tightly as he guided your movements, forcing you to take him deeper, harder. He wasn’t gentle; there was no tenderness in his touch—only a brutal, dominating force that made your eyes water as you struggled to keep up with the pace he settled.

“Look at you,” he mocked, his voice rough and filled with a dark pleasure. “On your knees like the good little whore you are, choking on my cock. Is this what you wanted? To be degraded like this? To be used?”

You whimpered around him, your tears spilling over as you fought to breathe, fought to keep up with the relentless pace he set. But no matter how hard it was, no matter how much your throat burned and your jaw ached, you couldn’t help the arousal that still thrummed through your body. The way he controlled you, the way he dominated every part of you—it sent a dark thrill through you that you couldn’t deny, no matter how much it shamed you. And you found yourself soaking wet yet again. 

Yunho’s grip tightened in your hair, pulling you even closer as he thrust deeper into your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. “Fuck, I love that little pretty mouth of yours” he growled, his voice low and commanding. 

Your response was muffled by the fullness in your mouth. His words cut deep, but the dark pleasure in his voice only served to heighten the arousal that pulsed through you, the heat pooling in your core even as he degraded you. You hated yourself for it, hated how much you needed his approval, his dominance, his cruelty. But there was no escaping it now—no denying the way he had twisted you into something you barely recognized.

Yunho’s thrusts became more erratic, more forceful, as he neared his release. His grip in your hair was almost painful, his dominance overwhelming as he used your mouth for his pleasure. You could feel him pulsing against your tongue, his breath hitching as he got closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re going to swallow every last drop,” he ordered, his voice rough with need. “And you’d better not spill a single bit, or you’ll be punished. Understand?”

You nodded as best you could, your eyes wide as you looked up at him, desperate to please, desperate to avoid his wrath. His eyes darkened with satisfaction as he saw the fear in your gaze, and with a final, rough thrust, he came, spilling into your mouth with a low, guttural groan.

You fought to keep up with him, swallowing down everything he gave you, your throat working desperately to obey his command. The taste of him was intense, and overwhelming, but you didn’t dare let a single drop escape, knowing that his punishment would be swift and unforgiving if you failed.

When he finally pulled back, his chest heaving with exertion, he looked down at you with a mixture of disdain and dark satisfaction. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “At least you know how to follow orders.”

He lowered himself at your kevel and took your chin in his fingers, kissing you softly. For a brief second, you even feel like getting your old Yunho back. His kiss was soft and loving, like he used to kiss you before everything happen. But when he pulled back and you saw his cold eyes looking right onto yours, it was like a reality check. He grabbed your arm and yanked you up, pushing you towards the bed. You stumbled a bit, your heart pounding. 

‘’Get on the bed,’’ he commanded, his voice cold. Tears started to well up your eyes again, out of fear or depsration for his cock, you honestly did not know anymore. 

You got on the bed, your body trembling. He followed you, his eyes never leaving yours as he climbed onto the bed on top of you, the knife back in his hand. He smirked when he saw the teats on your eyes, and gently brushed his right thumb on the stained marks on your cheeks. ‘’You’re so pretty when you cry, angel,’’ he collected your tears on his thumb and brought it to his lips, kissing his thumb slowly, growling at the slaty teaste on his tongue. ‘’Spread your legs for me.’’

You hesitated for a moemnt, but the sharp glint in his eyes and his eyebrow that was slowly raising spurred you into action. You spread your legs, feelings the cool air againt your glistening heat. He positionned himself at your entrance, his eyes dark. ‘’So eager for my cock, aren’t you, pretty?’’ 

You nodded frantically, to which he chuckled. He held the knife lightly against your skin and you shivered at the sensation. You could feel yourself even more aroused by it. Without warning, he trhust into you roughly, filling you up completely. The sudeen sensation mad eyou cry out and arched up against him. He didn’t give you a moment to adjust to his size like he usualy dyd, instead he set up a relenting pace that left you gasping. 

‘’Yunho, fuck,’’ you screamed, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming you. 

As he thrust into you roughly, you felt the blade of the knife against your neck, dragging the cold blade lightly across your skin, leaving shallow cuts that stung and thrilled you equally. He felt your walls around him tighten every time the blade cut you and he chuckled again, placing his mouth against your ear. ‘’So that’s what turns you on, huh? You like it when I cut you?’’ 

You didn’t even respond, your brain already too much a mush to form proper sentence. You just moaned as a response. You felt him bite roughly your ear lobe as he picked up his pace even more. ‘’Already too dumb because of my cock in you sweetheart? Fuck you’re so tight,’’ he moaned against your ear. ‘’That’s what you wanted, huh? To be fucked like this?’’ But when you did not answer, he quickly brought the kinfe against your neck, his eyes boring into yours. ‘’Answer me.’’ 

‘’Y-Yes..’’ You gasped, tears streaming freely down your face now as you could feel the familiar coil ready to snap in your lower belly. Yunho's pace never slowed, his thrusts relentless and deep. You could feel the knife pressing a bit harder against your throat, not enough to cut, but enough to remind you of the danger. The mixture of sensations was overwhelming, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice low and demanding. "Show me how much you need this."

You screamed as your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. Yunho's thrusts never slowed, driving you through the waves of pleasure with a ruthless pace. The knife remained a cold, thrilling presence against your skin, amplifying every sensation.

"That's right," he murmured, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Come for me. Scream for me."

As you came down from your high, gasping for breath, Yunho finally withdrew the knife, tossing it aside. He grabbed your hips, pulling you even closer as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless intensity.

Yunho positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes dark and filled with a cruel satisfaction. He held the knife lightly against your skin, the cold metal a constant reminder of his control and dominance. His free hand gripped your thigh tightly, holding you in place.

"Look at you," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "So desperate, so eager. Beg for it again. Beg for me to fuck you."

"Please, Yunho," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Please fuck me. I need you. I need you so much."

He chuckled darkly, his grip on your thigh tightening. "Pathetic," he murmured. "But I suppose you've begged enough."

Without any further warning, Yunho thrust into you roughly, filling you completely. The sudden, intense sensation made you cry out, your body arching off the bed. He didn't give you a moment to adjust, instead setting a relentless pace that left you gasping for breath.

"Yunho!" you screamed, the mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelming you.

He laughed, a dark, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "That's right," he taunted, his voice low and cruel. "Scream for me. Show me how much you love this."

Each thrust was hard and deep, sending jolts of sensation through your body. Yunho's eyes never left yours, watching with a twisted satisfaction as you squirmed and writhed beneath him.

"You're so tight," he murmured, his voice filled with a dark pleasure. "So wet. Is this what you wanted? To be fucked like this?"

"Yes," you gasped, tears streaming down your face. "Yes, Yunho. I wanted this. I needed this."

"Of course you did," he sneered, his thrusts growing even harder. "You're nothing but a desperate little slut, begging for my cock."

The degrading words mixed with the intensity of his movements, driving you to the edge. You could feel another orgasm building, the pressure inside you almost too much to bear.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice breaking. "Please, Yunho, I can't... I can't take it."

"Oh, you can take it," he growled, his eyes gleaming with a dark satisfaction. "And you will. You're mine, remember?"

He moved the knife to your throat, the cold blade pressing lightly against your skin. The fear and arousal mingled, sending a new wave of heat through your body. Yunho's eyes darkened with satisfaction as he watched you react.

"Do you like this?" he taunted, his voice a dark whisper. "Do you like the danger? The fear?"

"Yes," you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Yes, Yunho. It turns me on."

He laughed, the sound filled with cruel amusement. "Pathetic," he sneered. "But it's good to know you're honest."

Yunho's pace never slowed, his thrusts relentless and deep. You could feel the knife pressing a bit harder against your throat, not enough to cut, but enough to remind you of the danger. The mixture of sensations was overwhelming, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me, baby" he commanded, his voice low and demanding. "Show me how much you need this."

You screamed as your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. His thrusts never slowed, driving you through the waves of pleasure with a ruthless pace. The knife remained a cold, thrilling presence against your skin, amplifying every sensation.

"That's right," he murmured, his voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Come for me. Scream for me."

As you came down from your high, gasping for breath, Yunho finally withdrew the knife, tossing it aside. He grabbed your hips, pulling you even closer as he continued to thrust into you with a relentless intensity.

"You're fucking mine," he growled, his voice filled with a dark possessiveness. « I wanna hear you say it."

"I'm yours," you gasped, your voice trembling with the weight of his words.

He smirked, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. ‘’Damn right you are. And don't you ever forget it."

Yunho's pace quickened, each thrust sending jolts of sensation through your overstimulated body. You could feel him getting closer, his breathing growing more ragged. The intensity of it all left you breathless and trembling, completely at his mercy.

"Look at you," he taunted, his voice filled with disdain. "So desperate. So eager. So dirty."

You nodded weakly, unable to form words, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. Yunho's thrusts grew even harder, pushing you to the edge once more.

"Come for me again, angel’’ he commanded, his voice a low growl.

With a final, rough thrust, you screamed as another orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing with the intensity of it. Yunho groaned, his own release following shortly after, filling you completely. The intensity of your final orgasm left you trembling and breathless, your vision swimming as the sensations overwhelmed you. Yunho's relentless pace, combined with the sharp, thrilling edge of fear, had pushed you beyond your limits. As the waves of pleasure finally subsided, you felt your consciousness slipping away, your body giving in to the exhaustion.