#wooin

YOO WOOIN !

personally, i'd say the first thing that caught wooin's attention that led you both to be a couple is that you looked sexy in this one specific laced strap top with a deep U collar and your cleavage was displayed. when wooin saw you at night in the club, he swore that he stared at it for at least a minute before going back to drinking again

wooin LOVES looking at it bouncing

he either uses your boobs to sleep or abuse it as he thrusts his cock deep inside you :3 both works well to his liking

whenever you're lazying around and wanting to be close to him, he'd lay you over his chest on your back on the sofa, his hand traveling forward to knead with your tits. it can be relaxing, that you once had fallen asleep to it. and it can also be aggressive, that you were moaning his name repeatedly because of how good he rubs his finger over your buds

you don't tell me otherwise that if wooin had a bad day and you greet him with a hug in front of the door, he wastes no time stuffing his face between your big boobies and mumbling about what had pissed him off today.

like hyuk, if he has his arm around your shoulders he would tease you by groping your boob for one second before anyone sees in public.

wooin likes it veeeeeery much if you push your chest towards his face when you're giving him a ride on his dick 🥺

his hands would softly caress your whole body from your asscheeks to your boobs, kissing your jawline down to your tits as he drag his uniquely shaped tongue over it.

he knows you love it when he does that. bonus point if you're near your high he would teasingly quicken his tongue rubbing your buds and the cold piercing of his just can't seem to be enough for you :( so a round two sounds good!

he loves seeing the tip of your boobs pointing out. like really. he just likes the feeling when he drag his fingers over it, the tip just flick back up in its place. he said its cute.

if you're sleeping together, sometimes his hands would be placed under your shirt on one of your tits. its relaxing okay, he couldn't help it

JOKER !

this cutie is extremely inexperienced in relationships but he knows the basic.

and he has a favourite part of your body too! one being your eyes, two being your small hands and three being your boobs. yes. boobs. its placed three because its the least he pay attention to the most.

i would say that joker doesn't really care what your body proportions is. as long as your love is as big as he has for you <3

small or big tits, doesn't matter. but hey, just because your boobs is the least he pay attention to, doesn't mean its non existent to him.

rough days are unpredictable, joker is someone who rarely opens up but he, too would like to release the tension right? my boy just wants someone to hear his problems.

so ask him to sit back while you sit on him, playing with his hair and tracing his face tats as he speaks about his problems quitely :')

its not enough to just speak up about it. he feels like he needs to do something to finally relax.

so he gently cups your boob, pull you by your waist closer and stuff his face onto it. after that you'll hear a soft sigh of tension leaving his lips after a loooong day <3

"feels nice." he says, his lips leave a small peck on your skin as you giggle.

end of fluff. if you're having sex with him naked, expect to be softly treated. for some day, he does get rough with it. but if he's not, he'll hover over you, gently thrusting in and out of you while his face presses on your chest, leaving few kisses and love bites on your cute boobiess :3

he does sucks the tip of it. its like a cherry on top he says. because he simply likes the feeling of the bud being the last one to leave his lips as he pull it up, then it bounces back down, wet with his saliva 🥹

the size difference between your boobies and his hands are BIG. your hands are petite compared to his but your tits? its almost as big as his palm, so he likes to grope them softly.

HONG VINNY !

boii he touch deprived as fuhhh!!!

this means every part of you WILL be touched and if he thinks its not enough, expect to be pressed against his bare body as he desperately moans for how good it feels to finally throw his virginity card away LMAO

i think vinny doesn't really look on body that much. but if he really needs it, he will be extra touchy. it takes time for him to act that way. he's trying his best :')

when time passes and he can finally show his love languages to you without being embarrassed each second, vinny isn't afraid to ask for a hug and get turned on by the way your tits presses against his chest.

to be honest, i think he would probably thought its a stupid thing to feel about you. but damn?? he ain't never hug anyone before and the feeling of a woman's body against his sent his head into millions of thoughts.

oh and i couldn't agree more on the fact that vinny is not a mad dog in bed because he has never even shared a bed with a woman before.

so... his shy manners never will fade away. even when he told you he likes how your tits looked under your top, braless :)

shy, even if he wants to touch you. his big hands playing with your tits softly is something he had never everrrrr done in his life. it felt good, so good that a tent is build in his pants

lets say he needs something to let his feelings out on. it'll be your tits. obviously!

kneading on it softly as you both cuddle in bed trying to sleep. his thumb will lightly brush against the tip. it sent you to heaven for how good and gentle he's being. his soft breath hits your neck just right.

and not to mention he'll tuck you closer to get comfortable to squish your boobiess <3

if its about sex, you'll be top for some time since he gets so shy being a top.

you ride him, he caress his lips against your tits as his other hand gently rubs the other one. he finds it hard to kiss you while you're bouncing on him, so to muffle his moans he would use your boobs as he sucks and bites on themm 🥺

or in general, he would just hug you and feel the way your boobs bounce, hitting his cheeks while he rests his face on your chest.

It started with something dumb.

Like, real dumb.

The kind of dumb that’s just supposed to be his usual post-race wind-down—kick off the shoes, scroll through Instagram, look up that fine chick he saw from LOS the day after their first race.

Yumi Lee—not exactly a state secret. Her @ was right there in the crew’s tagged posts, and hey, not his fault the Tarantula girls had a roster worth a good five minutes of his attention.

Enough for him to jump from one profile to another, clicking whatever account was tagged in a photo he deemed hot enough to catch his eye.

Five minutes turned into twenty. Twenty turned into how the hell did I end up here?

Because somewhere between “just looking” and “I swear I’m not creeping,” he clicked too far. Dug too deep. Swiped himself straight out of Yumi’s world and face-first into yours.

Your profile.

The same one he remembers blocking three years ago—back when his pride was bigger than his sense of direction and the breakup was still fresh enough to feel like chewing glass.

He hadn’t thought about that in a while.

Or, well—he told himself he hadn’t.

Now? He’s scrolling your feed like it’s his morning newspaper. Clicking through your highlighted stories like he’s an archaeologist uncovering relics from a life he used to live.

Latest post? Cute. Oldest post? Ouch. He’s not even sure when he started smiling at stupid little things in the captions—inside jokes that aren’t his anymore.

And then—because his life is a sitcom with no laugh track—Hyuk happened.

One second, Wooin’s sitting at the dining table, hunched over his phone like a gremlin. Next thing he knows, Hyuk’s leaning over his shoulder, peering down without a single ounce of personal-boundary awareness.

And then—tap.

Double tap.

A bright, cheery little heart blooms right on your smile in a picture from two years ago.

The sound Wooin made was somewhere between a choke and a gasp.

“What the—?! HYUK!”

Hyuk just blinks, shrugs, and takes a bite of his banana like he didn’t just ruin Wooin’s social life in under three seconds.

Meanwhile, Wooin’s staring at his screen like it’s a live grenade, watching that stupid heart sit there, broadcasting his relapse to the world.

He jabs at the screen, unliking it in a panic.

“She’s gonna see that! You know Instagram tells you instantly, right?!”

Hyuk swallows his bite. “Then she already saw it.”

“That’s not—shut up!” Wooin’s fingers are flying now, opening your profile, closing it, reopening it like that’ll somehow erase the notification from your end.

He’s mid-scroll when Hyuk leans over again, smirking. “Oh, this one’s nice,” he says, tapping another post before anyone can stop him.

Another heart blooms.

“FUCKER, I WILL—” Wooin practically tackles the phone out of his hand, nearly spilling the rest of Hyuk’s stupid banana onto the table.

“Are you trying to make me look like a desperate stalker?!”

Hyuk snorts, leaning back in his chair. “You’re already scrolling two years deep. The damage was done before I got here.”

“That’s different!” Wooin hisses, already unliking the second post with trembling fingers. “Scrolling in silence is stealth. This is a fucking crime scene now.”

He sets the phone down like it’s contaminated, rubbing his face. “She’s gonna think I’m crawling back.”

Hyuk raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you?”

Wooin opens his mouth, closes it, glares at him instead. “…That’s not the point, but I'm not.”

Two days passed.

Two whole, dragging, quiet days.

No notification from you.

No snide message calling him a creep.

No passive-aggressive post about “certain people” lurking. 

Not even a single sign you’d noticed Hyuk liking those buried photos from years ago.

Wooin should’ve been relieved.

Hell, he should’ve been celebrating—no drama, no embarrassment, no reason for you to block him, and salt the earth behind you.

But no.

Instead, he was exactly where he’d been that night—slouched over the dining table, hood pulled low over his head, a lollipop cracking between his teeth from how hard he was biting down on it.

Fuck. 

Why weren’t you reacting?

Wasn’t that enough to piss you off at least a little? To make you text him something, just so he’d know you still had it in you? Or had you forgotten him completely? Did Hyuk’s little stunt just get buried under a pile of other notifications—other people, other lives, all of them pulling you further from where he still was?

The thought made his head throb.

He dragged his hand down his face, trying to shake it off, when a familiar, smug voice cut through the low hum of his place.

“Oh? Back at it again?”

This time, when Hyuk leaned in over his shoulder, Wooin was quick—phone flipped closer to his chest, chin dipping under his hood like an animal guarding a kill. His scowl was sharp enough to cut, but Hyuk didn’t even blink. 

Joker stood just behind him, blank as ever, while the fuckass wore that infuriating look of someone ready to keep poking until something broke again.

“Fuck off, asshat,” Wooin groaned, raking his fingers through his hair like it might clear his head. “I’m gonna hit you for real this time.”

“With what? Your whining?” Hyuk’s voice came flat as a brick wall, unbothered, as he reached over Wooin’s counter to pluck another banana without so much as looking at him. 

He peeled it with the same slow, deliberate motion of someone who knew they were about to piss you off and was savoring every second. 

“Still stalking your lil girlfriend?” he deadpanned around the first bite.

Wooin barely turned his head, shoving at Hyuk’s shoulder with a lazy flick that carried more irritation than force.

“Ex—I said fuck off,” he groaned, dragging a palm down his face. “You’re so fucking invested in this, you psycho.”

“He didn’t deny the stalking, great.” Joker deadpanned.

“Of course I am.” Hyuk didn’t even blink. He leaned his hip against the counter like he owned the place, banana halfway gone already. “The only time you were calm was when you were dating her.”

From where he shifted, Joker’s voice cut in again, flat as ever. “He can be calm?”

Wooin shot him a glare sharp enough to cut glass, but Joker didn’t even flinch—just shoved his hands deeper into his jacket pockets, looking bored in that way only Joker could.

“Yeah,” Hyuk went on, chewing noisily for effect, “and his face wasn’t full of holes yet.” His gaze flicked to the piercings on Wooin’s lip and brow, the faint glint of metal catching the low light. 

“Back then you looked like some harmless golden retriever. Now?” He gestured vaguely with the banana, like he was pointing out a crime scene. “Now you just look like you’re trying to scare off feelings.”

“Or people,” Joker added, and though his tone was even, there was something about it that made the air tighten for a beat.

Wooin bit down on his lollipop hard enough to hear the crack, trying not to let the sting of their words show.

“Wow, this must be really stressing you out,” Hyuk’s voice cut through the silence like nails down a chalkboard, just as Wooin’s jaw tensed around his lollipop.

Wooin didn’t even look up, just muttered, “Shut up,” under his breath.

“Want me to lend you hands?” Hyuk said casually.

“You mean lend a hand,” Joker corrected without missing a beat from where he leaned on the counter, eyes half-lidded in that deadpan way he always spoke.

But Hyuk just shook his head, hooking a banana between his teeth as his free hand shot out—smooth as if he’d done this a hundred times—snatching Wooin’s phone right from his grip. 

“No,” he said around the fruit, his voice muffled, “I meant hands.”

“Oi—what the fuck—!” Wooin nearly knocked his chair back as he lunged, but Hyuk was already spinning away like it was a game.

“Hold him for a sec, Joker. I’ll pay you later,” Hyuk called over his shoulder, thumbs flying across the screen without an ounce of shame.

Joker didn’t even hesitate.

One second Wooin was on his feet, the next his arms were wrenched back and his hoodie collar was half choking him. 

“That’s a million won, you freak,” Joker said flatly, like this was just another business.

“AHH FUCK—STOP IT!” Wooin kicked back, trying to shake Joker off, but the man had a grip like steel.

Hyuk was grinning now, tapping away with infuriating calm. “Relax. I’m just doing what you’re too chicken to do.”

“I swear to God—Hyuk, I’ll kill you!” Wooin thrashed again, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Then kill me later,” Hyuk replied, still typing. “She’s gonna think this is cute.”

“CUTE?! I’M GONNA FUCKING—” Wooin jerked forward hard enough to make Joker grunt, almost slipping free—until Joker shifted his weight and reeled him back in.

And then it happened—Hyuk froze for just a second, smirking at whatever he’d just sent. The sound of a notification leaving the phone seemed to echo in Wooin’s ears like a gunshot.

By the time he managed to twist halfway out of Joker’s hold and grab Hyuk by the collar, dragging him in close enough to strangle him on the spot—

—Hyuk was already holding the phone up like a trophy. 

“Too late. She’s seen it.”

Wooin’s heart slammed into his throat, his rage short-circuiting into cold panic as he saw your name at the top of the screen, the little “typing…” bubble already appearing.

And just like that, all the fight drained from his knees, Joker’s grip the only thing keeping him upright as the realization hit:

You were typing back.

And if the universe had any sense of mercy, you’d be typing something short.

But knowing his luck? He was about to fucking die.

To be fair, the moment his name lit up your notifications after years of radio silence, your first instinct was to bury your face in a pillow and scream.

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what he’d been up to—you weren’t living under a rock. His social media had been public enough, his posts loud in more ways than one. Photos of races, nights out, friends draped over him, that wild grin plastered across his face—he was living.

And you were happy for him. 

Honestly, you were—but you never planned to wedge yourself back into his orbit. 

Even if things had ended cleanly—kindly, even—and you’d made peace with being a quiet bystander. Every so often you’d check in from afar, see if he was still cycling, still chasing the things he loved back when you were both younger and tangled up in each other’s days. 

That was enough—Or it had been, until now.

Y.WOOIN — 2m ago

“Are you a banana? Because I’m going bananas over you🍌”

A corny pick-up line as his first words after years? Hell yeah.

The laugh hit you so hard you had to bury your face into your pillow again, shoulders shaking as you scrambled to type back something that matched the absurdity.

Your thumbs flew, mashing out a chaotic HAHAHSHSHASHAHSAHSHASHASHASHAHSA before you flopped onto your back, phone still in hand, grinning like an idiot at the ceiling.

And maybe it made you easy.

Or maybe it was just that you were still… too tangled up in the old you-and-him—still holding onto the shape of those memories like they hadn’t already yellowed with time. 

Whatever the reason, here you were. Only a day after that ridiculous, awkward little reconnection, sitting across from him in a cramped café near your workplace. 

As if the two of you hadn’t been quietly dodging each other’s existence for the past three years. As if three years of silence could be erased with one stupid message and a seat between chipped mugs and the smell of burnt espresso.

“…Bananas, huh…” you started weakly, your voice dipping into that uncertain place between teasing and testing the waters. 

The steam from your coffee curled in the air, a small amused grin barely hidden behind the rim of your mug.

Across from you, his reaction was instant. His eyes squeezed shut like you’d just stabbed him with the memory, a groan escaping as his hand came up to cover his face. Even with his palm hiding most of him, you could still catch the faint flush that had bloomed high on his tanned cheeks, creeping up to the tips of his ears.

You snickered, the sound bubbling out without effort.

“Jesus—I told you, it was Hyuk!” he said, voice breaking with mock outrage as he peeked at you through his fingers. “He was the one who sent that after taking my phone.”

“Or so you’ve said,” you hummed into your drink, deliberately letting the skepticism drip from your tone. “If you said so…”

That earned you the kind of look you remembered too well—the one where his brows pinched, like he was torn between annoyance and the urge to smile. He leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking beneath him, and muttered something about “unbelievable” under his breath.

The café wasn’t busy, but it wasn’t quiet either. The hiss of the espresso machine, the clink of cups, the low hum of someone’s playlist—it all wrapped around you like a buffer, a reminder that this wasn’t the same bubble you used to live in with him. 

Back then, conversation came so easy. Now, it felt like the two of you were prodding at each other’s edges, testing if you still fit anywhere in each other’s lives.

You lowered your mug, resting your fingers against the warm ceramic. “So… Hyuk’s still around?”

He nodded. “Yeah. We ride together sometimes. He’s still an idiot, though. Some things don’t change.”

You smiled faintly at that. “Guess not.”

For a moment, it was just the sound of you both sipping your drinks. That weird, careful silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly—just… foreign.

The last time you’d sat across from him, you’d been able to read his mood without thinking, fill in the gaps without asking. Now, it was like you were working from a faded copy of the map.

He was the one who broke the silence next.

“So—you’ve been… good?”

The words were simple enough—small talk, harmless—but the way he said them, low and unhurried, with his eyes flicking to yours only to drop away again, made your stomach tighten in a way you weren’t ready for.

His voice didn’t sound like it used to. Deeper now. Less restless.

“Yeah,” you said after a pause, like you needed to check the word before letting it out. “Busy. Work’s been… you know.”

“Mm.” He nodded slowly, fingers drumming once against the side of his cup. “You back for good?”

“…Yeah. I plan to stay here for work.” You tilted your head toward him. “You?”

His mouth curved—not quite a smile, but close enough. “Still cycling. Still… me, I guess.”

You let out a small laugh, one that felt oddly self-conscious. “Still you.”

He leaned forward a little then, forearms resting on the table. And it wasn’t the gesture that caught you so much as the way he was looking at you—steadily, quietly—like he was searching for the edges of something you hadn’t said yet. That same watchfulness you remembered from before, but sharper now. 

“You didn’t have to say yes, you know,” he murmured.

Your brows knit. “To coffee?”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, though the motion felt heavier than it should have. “We could’ve just… left it at that message.”

Your thumb traced the curve of your mug’s handle, more to keep your hands busy than anything.

“Maybe,” you murmured, glancing up at him. “But I wanted to see you.”

Something shifted in his face at that—his eyes softening, just enough to be noticeable. He didn’t answer right away, only gave a single, slow nod, like he was filing the words away somewhere private.

The air between you felt different after that. Looser in one way, tighter in another. You found yourself leaning in too, elbows on the worn wood between you, close enough to catch the faint scent of his cologne. Definitely not the same one he wore in high school.

“I thought you’d hate me,” you admitted before you could stop yourself.

His head tilted slightly. “Why would I hate you?”

You shrugged, gaze dropping to the swirl of coffee in your cup. “Because I left. When you were… when you weren’t at your best.”

“I never hated you,” he said, cutting you off, the firmness in his tone pulling your eyes back to his. “I was the one who told you to go. Who was I to stop you from getting out of here for your own damn future?” 

The last part came out like a short, almost disbelieving laugh. But then he went quiet. His gaze slid away, not like before, but in a way that felt hesitant.

“I just thought… you didn’t want me around anymore. Even when you got back from the US.”

Something stuttered in your chest. 

You looked at him—really looked at him. The lines in his face were different now. His hair was styled and short instead of messy. His shoulders broader, hidden under his baggy clothes but wide enough for you to notice. 

A man.

Not a boy hunched over a desk anymore—not even close.

“I did,” you said softly. “Want you around, I mean.”

He didn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he almost wanted to.

“Yeah?” he scoffed lightly, tilting his head, the lenses of his yellow-tinted glasses catching the light.

You looked away before you could stop yourself, warmth crawling up your neck like it had been waiting for the perfect excuse to humiliate you. And it was definitely not because you’d just realized he was… more attractive now. 

Absolutely not.

It was just coffee. Or the heating. Or maybe the way the sunlight caught the steam curling up from your cup—anything except the fact that his jaw looked sharper than you remembered, or that his voice had deepened just enough to sit lower in your chest.

From there, the conversation began to soften at the edges, bleeding into safer territory. You traded small updates like they were foreign currency—careful, tentative, but with a surprising amount of value.

Mutual friends. Jobs. The weather. That one teacher who’d mysteriously vanished mid-year

And then—

“Remember that time we got caught sneaking snacks into the library?” you asked, hiding your smile behind the rim of your mug.

He huffed a laugh, leaning back into his chair. “You mean when you nearly choked trying to eat a whole bread roll before she reached us?”

“You’re the one who told me to hide it in my mouth!”

“And you listened,” he said, grinning in that way that made the lines by his eyes crinkle—a detail that, absurdly, felt like proof that time had actually passed.

Each story shaved away a little more of the stiffness, until you could almost pretend the gap hadn’t been years wide. Almost.

Because underneath the easy laughter, there was something else. Something heavier. You could feel it in the pauses, in the way his eyes kept catching yours and holding just a fraction too long.

When your cups were empty, neither of you moved to stand. The afternoon light shifted through the wide cafe window, streaking warm gold across the table. He noticed you looking, and for once, didn’t glance away.

“You’ve changed,” he said, voice quiet enough to almost be lost under the soft clink of dishes behind the counter. It wasn’t unkind—if anything, it sounded… careful.

“So have you,” you returned, equally soft.

His gaze lingered, steady. And you were suddenly aware of the sound of your own heartbeat, like it had chosen this exact moment to move into your throat. There was something unsaid there—something fragile, still wrapped in the same kind of silence that had kept the two of you apart for three years.

But you didn’t get up. And neither did he.

The air between you seemed to thicken, not with tension, but with a strange pull. Like both of you were standing at the lip of a memory, toes curling at the edge, wondering if you should step back or let yourselves fall.

“So…” he began, voice lower and rougher than before, like the word had been sitting on his tongue for a while, “was it really that funny?”

It took you a second to catch on—your mind still lingering in the calmer rhythm you’d both slipped into—but then the corner of your mouth curved when it clicked. 

The banana line. Of course.

“Yes,” you said, your voice carrying a little too much certainty.

His eyes darted away with a sharp exhale through his nose, half a scoff, half a laugh. “I swear it wasn’t me.”

“Sure,” you replied. But your tone was softer this time—less pointed, more like you were leaving the door cracked for him to keep going if he wanted.

He took it.

“You know how ridiculous Hyuk is,” he muttered, the words coming with a grumble that didn’t quite match the faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Mm,” you hummed knowingly, leaning back against your chair. “Hyuk’s always been the one pushing you around, after all.”

That earned you an exaggerated roll of his eyes, his head tilting just enough that you could catch the tiny twitch of his mouth like he was fighting a grin.

“Pushing me around, huh…” he echoed under his breath, but there was no real bite to it.

“Well, I’m glad you’re still riding together,” you said after a beat, your tone slipping into something gentler. “At least… you weren’t alone.”

The words seemed to settle heavier between you than you expected. His gaze didn’t lift immediately, and when it did, it was only long enough to flick toward you before he raised his mug higher, letting it shield the lower half of his face.

You didn’t push.

Instead, you took a sip from your own cup, watching the way the light through the window cut across his profile this time—the sharpness of his jaw, the glint of piercings on his features that weren’t there before. He looked different, older, but there was still something in his eyes that felt the same, even when they kept avoiding yours.

Somewhere in the middle of reminiscing about a class trip, he shifted, leaning forward just slightly, elbows on the table. His voice softened when he asked more about your time away, his interest not the polite kind you offered to acquaintances but the sort that made you feel like he was tucking every detail away to keep.

You answered, and when he smiled at something you said, it was faint but real. The kind of smile that carried the weight of knowing what you used to sound like when you were truly happy.

When you asked about him, he hesitated. Not long enough for it to feel deliberate—just long enough for you to notice. His stories were lighter, less personal. You didn’t push. But it made you wonder what had filled those three missing years for him, and if he’d ever tell you.

The minutes blurred. Outside, the shadows of passersby stretched long across the sidewalk. A couple nearby got up to leave, the scrape of their chairs loud in the comfortable quiet between you.

“You ever think about…” he started, then stopped, his jaw tightening like the words were caught somewhere between his chest and his mouth.

“About?”

His eyes found yours again. 

“Never mind.” He smiled—small, almost sheepish—and it was the kind of smile you’d seen on him years ago, right before he’d dared you to do something stupid.

Your chest tightened.

The truth was, you’d spent years teaching yourself to think of him less. You’d filed away his laugh, his voice, the way he used to look at you when you said something unexpectedly funny. You’d told yourself it was just another chapter, something that didn’t need revisiting.

And yet—here you were.

When the barista cleared your cups, she asked if you wanted another round. Neither of you answered right away. You could feel his gaze even as you glanced down at the menu, pretending to consider it.

“I could,” you said finally.

“Me too,” he replied, but his voice carried something quieter underneath.

Relief, maybe. Or maybe just the smallest thread of hope.

By the time the second round of drinks arrived, the air between you felt different. Not heavier—more like the careful hum before a bridge in a song. You weren’t sure if it was coming from you or him, but it was there, steady and low.

He caught you looking at him again, and this time, he didn’t smile.

Instead, he said, “I missed this.”

Your fingers tightened around the warm ceramic of your cup. There were a dozen ways you could’ve answered—light, teasing, deflecting—but none of them felt right. 

“I missed you.” you murmured.

And he seemed to hear it, with how his hand snaked closer to yours—not quite touching, but lingering eough to keep the warmth.

And you both knew then—it’s a start.

If Wooin noticed two shady-looking idiots peeking out from the café’s bathroom hall, trading smug and lazy smirks in his direction, he didn’t let it show. 

He just kept his eyes on you.

Joker was as good as dead—but maybe, if he was feeling generous, Hyuk would live long enough to regret it.

he could hear the water in shower stop flowing, you wrapped yourself in a towel and slipped out of the bathroom. picking and putting on your pajama the inescapable process has been started. Jung Gun learned your skincare routine perfectly - you always start with your face adding toner, letting it dry while you adding extra products on your hair, then you using millions of bottles - moisturizers, essence, serums, creams on your face, then switching to your body, and finally drying your hair and final step - adding that tasty smelling oil on your hair and boom! you are ready for… bed… “Hun, admit it honestly, you really enjoy all this stuff and not getting tired every time?” he said, getting comfortable and pulling you towards him “It’s one of the ways of meditation you know, Gun?” you murmur softly into his chest

Ma Taesoo

Taesoo enjoys 100% of time when you staying in his apartments. he honestly asked you few times to move in with him, but you politely rejected this idea (i headcanon that Taesoo live in stereotypical bachelor designed apartment… imagine bathroom with no place to put all your bottles? and rooms with cold/neutral lights? brrr, my horror honestly)

and here he are - sprawled out in bed, with his hands behind his head and leaning on the headboard, watching you. in turn, you occupied the table in his room, laying out your makeup bag, hair dryer and some other little things there, and now you were fussily rushing from the bedroom to the bathroom to wash your hands, looking in the mirror with this terrible cold-white lighting in the bathroom. Taesoo chuckled softly, when he saw how you add another cream on your body - specifically on your thighs, saying with his husky voice “Chill woman, enough marinating yourself in all that jojoba creams, im not gonna eat you alive, while you sleep” he grinned at you and pulled you into your shared bed. “Maybe not gonna eat, but you know sweet” he said hugging you from behind, burrowing his nose into your neck “You smell so good and nice that i might change my mind.”

Vinny

it was nice to came to Vinny in apartments that Juwon give to him, honestly better than his previous home. the soft glow of bedside lamps cast a warm ambience across the room, painting shadows that danced along the walls. Vinny lounged in bed, his attention divided between a phone in his hands and the anticipation of your return. you finally took your time after preparing for final exams, allowing yourself to indulge in the luxury of self-care, a small act of kindness to soothe both body and soul. you slowly going through your skincare routine, gently massaging essence into your cheeks and admiring yourself in mirror.

Vinny shifted against the pillows, his gaze drifting to the doorway as he eagerly awaited your return. the soft shuffle of footsteps drew his attention, and his heart skipped a beat as you appeared in the doorway, bathed in the soft glow of the moon and city lights outside the window. as you settled beside him, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch gentle against your skin. "Hey," he murmured, his voice filled with warmth. "I've missed you." you leaned into his touch, your heart overflowing with love for the man beside you. "I missed you too," you replied, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. in that moment, as you curled up together beneath the covers, everything seems right in the world, every problem just disappeared.

Wooin

he always like to violate and invade your personal space. not that you were against it, like now, when he flatly refused to wait for you in bed while you completed your six-step skincare routine and chose to join you. he insisted that he wanted that black mask be put on his skin, while you muttered that he should clean his skin first and then add serum and only after put that mask on. "Babe, why so many unnecessary steps, you know that this mask won't make big changes anyway, right?" he whine like a child who tired of shopping for groceries, when he only agreed to came because his mum promised to buy him some chips. "Because it's the whole thing about skincare, hun!!! You doing it not because of effect, but for the process!! Trust the process you know??!" you said turning to him with annoyed face and that funny crab hair band that Wooin bought for you last time he went to shopping center. he said it looked cool and reminded him of you when you blushing.

after the last five minutes of him hovering around you like an annoying fly, whining about how he wanted a mask too, you finally gave up. going to the refrigerator and deftly pulling out a black bubble mask, you went into the room. and Wooin looked out of the bathroom in bewilderment - where did you go if he was in the other room? as you returning to bathroom, you made him sit on the side of the tub and pulled the same hairband over his head, only green in the shape of a toad, “They didn’t have anything with snakes, so i thought another amphibian would be a good idea too.” you said pulling his hair up and putting that most wanted black bubble mask on his face.

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⊹ xo - xo ⊹