im back (sorta) + a sneak peek to what im working on :D
hello! I left the fandom for a bit, and im still debating whether to come back fully.. It took a lot of my time and I was lowkey using it as a distraction from stuff I had to figure out.. REGARDLESS... I love writing for txt, and I never actually stopped... as a way to come back I wanted to give anyone interested a sneak peek to the fics Ive been writing!
The Bucket - popular!Yeonjun x loser!reader
Yeonjun has everything. Reliable friends, a popularity that surpasses him, a doting mother, an evil stepdad, and an academic hold on his graduation. After convincing the hermit, no life yet professor's pet y/n to tutor him in exchange for help on her weird bucket list, he might have a chance to make his mother proud and his stepdad eat his words.
Yeonjun wasn't wrong. It was technically still winter break, you still had a week's worth of movies to binge, and Kai was supposed to take you and Beomgyu to the pier before break was over, but when you heard the name slip out from the other side of the phone, it halted the rehearsed rejection. You would be tutoring…Choi Yeonjun? Like the residential campus hottie, Choi Yeonjun? For the rate of $100 a session? You were more than intrigued. So many spoke of him like a folklore, like someone that only existed in those vivid dreams you would wake up giggling from or in a random rom-com movie where the plot didn't matter when you had a male character that hot. He flirted, he fucked, he partied and he had a personality that only drew people closer in, sweet and charming and charismatic, pretty and rich and daring, and…just look up what it takes to run a cult and hes got it all. It was nearly impossible to never hear of him, impossible to never see him at some random part of the campus, surrounded by people as they laughed at his jokes, and stuck to him like glue. Saying no would have been like rejecting a Greek god himself.
So imagine your surprise, when he seems to come off as the biggest brat you've ever met.
“How long is this?” He says, cutting off your rambling.
“How long is what?”
“This session.”
“You mean the one that just started?”
He looks around condescendingly before nodding.
Oh No Darling! - college student!Taehyun x spoiled! reader (set as a comedic series? Episode format)
Taehyun finds a runaway bride outside home. Taehyun invites her inside. Taehyun can't seem to get her out of his apartment.
Before Taehyun can reply with a snark comment about Yeonjun being the worst person to drink with, Kai’s panicked voice breaks the unspoken agreement of whispering.
“Oh thank god. You guys are here. We have a problem.”
“You burned the house down.”
“you killed someone.”
“no and no. even worse.” Kai’s eyebrows are never that curled, so stressed taehyun realizes, and hes starting to think if he does it hard enough they’re going to stay like that permanently.
The two semi sober figures were more confused once they faced the situation than when they heard about it. If that beer taehyun had babysat at the bar held any effect on his body, it was gone now and replaced with questions.
“Okay Kai, what the fuck.” Soobin voice cracks as he readjusted yeonjuns dead weight, Yeonjun stirring in his hold.
“oh piss off, im just as confused as you are!”
“you didn’t think of… god hes fucking heavy…I don’t know calling the police?” Soobin reaches for the door, before aggressively motioning Kai to grab it instead. “Bro. Help.”
“The police? Look at her! They’d only make things worse!” Kai follows behind the struggling duo inside.
Taehyun was looking at you, and Kai had a point. You looked scared, and so incredibly in distress it physically caused a chill down his arms. You rubbed your face in the dirty white dress, your knees acting as a shield, and while the wails stopped, the tears flowed steadily down your already stained cheeks. The sniffles continued to be the only thing in the silence that surrounded both of you as Taehyun tried to think of what to say. He tried to think about the last time he saw Haewon cry, how he sat there awkwardly patting her back, until she broke the weird tension with a kiss, and when they woke up the next morning, naked and late, Haewon never brought it up again, watching her getting ready for work as if the night before didn’t happen.
That obviously wasn’t the way to go now.
He clears his throat softly, before kneeling, skeptical eyes finally landing on him and he felt the dread of awkwardness seeping into him.
“Are you okay? Are you in danger?” he finally says.
You shakes your head, rolling your eyes as your fingers plucks at the thread, face puffy and red, wiping your irritated nose on the fabric again. From this angle he notices your shoes, not typical to the type you’d wear with such an expensive looking dress. The dress was up to your ankles, the bottom practically ripped and torn, smeared brown from the mud that appeared this morning from last night’s rainfall. Taehyun isn’t sure if it’s safe enough to be close to this random person like this, but he didn’t feel threatened, he felt bad.
Is there anyone we can call for you? A sibling? Relative?”
Despite the few posts regarding this type of situation, I really feel like people need to be aware because this is actively happening on Tumblr right now.
Hi everybody, I hope you’re all doing okay. Unfortunately, I need to raise a flag about something that could easily happen to any of us, even if you think you’d never fall for a scam.
A few days ago, oomf told me and a few other creators about a new method scammers are using to target Tumblr accounts through DMs. And now that it almost happened to me, I’m taking it seriously enough to make this public.
Here’s how the scam works:
You receive a DM from someone claiming they “accidentally reported your account,” since you had the same picture as the account they were intending to report. They sound apologetic, friendly, and insist they need to “fix the report” by adding you on Discord. Once you accept, they ask you to change the email associated with your Tumblr account under the excuse of “verifying you” or “reversing the report.”
That is the scam. If you change your email, you’re handing over full access.
It’s manipulative, and it preys on creators who don’t want their accounts taken down, plus they use those suspicious “do you write with AI?” messages and other baiting tactics that have been circulating recently.
Someone close to my friend almost lost all their information because of this exact trick: Here's the evidence:
And here's mine. Thankfully, I remembered the message and I didn't fall for that:
Also, it's not your normal bot account that does that, it leggit looks like a normal fan account (but it could be that the account also got hacked and is impersonating as that person), so please, please stay alert. Tumblr will never ask you to switch emails, join Discord, or speak to a third party to “fix” a report. If you ever get a message like this:
Do not add them anywhere.
Do not follow any instructions.
Do not change your email, password, or settings for them.
Just block, report, and move on.
I’m sharing this so no one else gets caught off guard. Stay safe, protect your accounts, and look out for each other. If you’re a creator, writer, or artist, you’re especially a target.
If anyone needs help figuring out whether a message is legit, feel free to ask me or others who’ve been warned about this (one example can be this post by @4doras)
⊹ ࣪ ˖ lawyer soobin choi is lonely. why not get a hybrid? easy, right? no. not easy at all.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ soobin choi x hybrid! puppy! fem! reader | word count: 1803 | dystopian-ish themes in a society where hybrids do not yet have rights; romance; eventual smut; angst;
⊹ ࣪ ˖ this fic has no title but is predicted to be at least 25 chapters long
──────────────── .✦
“The Elizabeth Blackwell Center for Ladies is among the top facilities in New York State. We pride ourselves on our expert care and comfort for the lady hybrids in our station. Founded in 1924, the Center has been a staple in ladies health, advocacy, and awareness. Just take a look at our premier facilities.”
Soobin’s lip twitched.
The preening smile with which the consultant spoke drove him wild with annoyance. Customer service at his prime. False smiles and reassurance. Soobin didn’t come here to check in on the welfare of the Ladies Center. Still, if the consultant can make a good impression, then maybe the shelter will have one less lady on their hands. It’s no secret that the Center loses more money then it brings in. The state of New York pays taxes to house lady hybrids aged twenty four and younger. For every lady hybrid older, the Center relies on generous donations. The consultant would never mention that, though, not when she’s trying to persuade Soobin to take a lady in his home. The consultant would do well to avoid even mentioning the housing crisis for older ladies and gentleman-the politically correct term for hybrids in this day and age. Soobin knows. He knows full well that the Center just evicted over one hundred and fifty hybrids to work as undocumented labor on farms and factories. Cruel is the modern society which aims to house hybrids for sexual pleasures and then bar them from sourcing legal income.
A lady hybrid cannot drive, maintain a job, legally marry, or institute a higher education beyond ninth grade. It seems a random number to Soobin, but the law had been in place well before he was born. A gentleman hybrid cannot drive, maintain a job that sources hours at more than thirty per pay period, legally marry, or seek higher education beyond the eleventh grade.
It’s a mind boggling thought for Soobin. Ladies and gentleman-or rather, males and females, though disparaging news outlets had advocated for the term change-don’t appear any different than other people. Soobin is even hesitant to say that males and females aren’t ‘normal’ because they seem increasingly so. There are no physical differences. Not in height, weight, skin, eye, and hair color. Neither stature nor stoutness differs hybrids from ‘normal’ humans. It just so happens their biological rhythms differ in greatness. Personality, too, perhaps.
“For example, the library,” the consultant said happily. She opened the door to the depressing room. It’s large, Soobin notes. That’s well enough.
“There isn’t a single window in here,” Soobin commented aloud. It’s in his nature to push people’s noses into the bitter truth. Might as well point it out. It’s obvious. Stone walls, linoleum floor. He’d seen gas station restrooms with more vibrance.
“The ladies get their sunshine in day-to-day exercises, as well as windows in their bedrooms,” the consultant smiled.
Soobin wondered if she ever gets sick of that ridiculous smile and the voice to match.
“What books does the library have stocked?” Soobin asked. “If these girls aren’t allowed to even continue school beyond freshman year, what’s here for them to read?”
He can’t help the sharp tincture in his voice. A cold lawyer’s voice.
The falter in the consultant’s eyes is just slight. What’s her name again? Cindy; it’s on her stupid name tag. “The girls receive an education parallel to what we deem standard for ourselves upon entry into the Center. They have a tutor until age twenty one. Even after that, however, they are all welcome to continue coming here. The library is stocked with classics to modern young adult fantasy, history, and everything in between. At the center, we encourage every lady to keep reading, writing, and keeping up with her arithmetic.
Soobin snorted. “Arithmetic? Do any of these girls know a math beyond pre algebra?” he inquired.
Cindy floundered at that.
“Whatever,” Soobin backtracked. “Listen, I’m not here to get a full tour. I’m just here for…”
“For…? For a companion?” Cindy asked hopefully.
The word made Soobin’s mouth go bitter. “No. Yes, but not-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “Sure. A companion.”
This wasn’t a choice he’d made easily. However, since he graduated law school and actually started practicing, he found that there’s an emptiness inside him nothing can fill. He’s deliberated for a long time that he’s fundamentally broken, doomed to fail all relationships, never even have a family. He can’t even keep a secretary.
Taking a hybrid in was not something Soobin ever thought of doing on his own. Most people taking in hybrids are like him, however. Lonely.
So, the young, pretty ones are snatched by perverts. The little ones are taken in by couples who raise them like any other child. The idea of raising a hybrid child as your own is a concept introduced by newer, younger generations. Millennials started that trend. Still, of all the sour shit millennials have done, that’s by far the best. Giving hybrids a chance to grow up in a home rather than a facility in the first place?
Regardless, between adopting infants and taking in perk, young adults means there’s a large amount of older hybrids being left with the short end of the stick.
Soobin had someone in mind. An idea of someone. Old, lonely, likes to cook, needs a friend. Done. That’s it.
He feels rotten at the idea of taking someone in who would otherwise be noted as a convenient commodity.
His cousin had pointed out the idea that if Soobin did take in a female his own age, there’s a strong chance romance will flourish. It’s ridiculously common these days. Incels will scramble to get the cutest hybrid at the nearby centers. And male hybrids? Male hybrids, in general, have an easier time. They’re taken in for manual labor around the home, a helping hand here and there. Probably, too, for lonely MILFs who otherwise have no spice in their marriages.
The cold truth for hybrids is they’re sex appeal carries them forward. At least now the new generations of hybrids are going to at least grow up being taught that they’re not just someone to keep around to avoid loneliness. The perpetuated standards of hybrids are pretty much soldifiied in that hybrids cannot marry, cannot drive, and cannot work. Though, there are many work arounds and petitions. Advocates have pushed the Senate to discuss a bill to at least let hybrids have a driver’s license.
Not to mention more and more of these couples-be it man and female, women and male-are applying for domestic partner certificates. Not quite marriage, but a step in the right direction.
Either way, the idea makes Soobin’s blood curdle. In his mind, it would be subtle manipulation to bring a female home. A guy and a girl? Living in a house together? And the girl goes through wild heats every one-to-two months?
Like that’s not the number one to manufacture a relationship.
Soobin isn’t an idiot. And he’s not an asshole.
So, yeah, he wanted an old, old, old woman. Someone who just needs company and friendship in her final days.
“I was informed over the phone that the center is one of the only ones in the state that didn’t evict females over the age of forty,” Soobin explained.
Cindy paused. “I apologize, Mr Choi, but you were informed incorrectly,” she said carefully. “The statewide notice mandated males and females aged forty years or older be sent to retirement facilities.”
Soobin scoffed. “Oh, that’s what they’re calling them? Retirement facilities?” He shook his head. He can tell he’s got that look; the look that makes people anxious.
“Let’s head back to the office and get a better look at the sort of companion you’re looking for,” Cindy suggested.
The long walk back to the top floor, where the consulting center overlooks a pretty fountain, is cold. Soobin makes out the spaces he’s not shown. In passing glances, he can see rooms lined with cribs. Girls sitting in plain, tiny rooms, cramped up and silent. But sure, save the pretty fountain overlook for the people who have the luxury to do whatever they’d like.
Soobin has never been the sort to consider himself a social justice warrior. He still wouldn’t describe himself as a person who gives a fuck. And yet here he is, confronted by the stifling ache for every girl and woman in this place that just can’t leave. It’s part of why he became a lawyer in the first place.
He wanted to be a pastry chef. In high school, anyways. Then life happened.
And here he is, half listening as Cindy drones on about the benefits of taking in a hybrid.
“What age range are you seeking?” Cindy asked. “Are you looking to adopt a child? We have infants in need. There is a background check, a CPS meeting, and-”
Soobin shook his head. “No. No, no, no. Who’s the oldest? I mean the oldest.”
Cindy tilted her head. “An unusual request.”
“I’m sure,” Soobin scoffed. “I just want an old, quiet lady who will sit and watch the news with me at night. Can we do that?”
Cindy hesitated. “I can look…” She logged onto her work station. The quiet tapping and clicking goes by for about ten seconds.
“Twenty four.”
Soobin’s eyes widened. “Twenty four?” he repeated. “You said forty and over were deported, where are the mid thirties and forty year olds?”
Cindy shook her head. “We don’t have any in our care. Twenty four.”
Soobin took a steady breath. “Okay…” he said calmly.
“Would you like to meet her?” Cindy suggested.
Uh, no, no thank you. It’s Soobin’s immediate inner response.
“I assure you, Mr Choi, even though she is young enough to appear that she’s not ‘in need’, she is,” Cindy said softly. “You would be doing any of these young women a great service.”
Say less, Soobin thinks.
“She’s twenty four. She has no family. Not even a sibling. Dead mother, father didn’t sign the birth certificate.”
Of course. Please, continue telling me about the tragic girl that has nowhere to go and no one to rely on.
Fuck.
“Alright. Fine. I’ll meet her,” Soobin sighed.
He really has no fucking back bone.
It’s almost ridiciulous how easy he is to be swindled into this shit. Because Cindy is already on it, already sending for someone to bring the female in.
Soobin is already bracing himself to break someone’s heart. She’s probably wide eyed and naive, probably packing her things like Annie preparing to be adopted by Daddy Warbucks.
He’s not doing it. He’s not taking her home. He’s not doing it.
The door opens.
Oh.
Soobin seriously has no back bone.
He’s already certain that she’s going to come home with him.
— pairing: idol!yeonjun x fem!reader
— genre: angsty comfort
— word count: 1437
— disclaimers: the friends are a bit... but you gotta love them for loving u!
— synopsis: yeonjun eavesdrops your conversation with your friends, they thought he wasn't good enough for you, and he knew that.
— series masterlist
— author's note: one day, i swear will write a happy, fluffy af choi yeonjun story. just not today.
Choi Yeonjun was late.
He was stuck in traffic, taillights bleeding red into the dusk as the city hummed on without him, and every minute that ticked by was another knot of guilt tightening in his chest.
Your messages had scrolled across his phone, gentle reminders—no blame, just: “Don’t rush, I’m here with the girls,” and, “Drive safe, xx” But it only made him feel worse. He should have been there already. He should have managed his schedule better, should have said no to one more rehearsal, should have put you first for once.
Not thought has never not crossed his mind before, it just hasn't happened.
By the time he finally arrived, the restaurant’s golden lights were already glowing against the street, and his hands shook as he parked. He checked the time—twenty-four minutes late. He could picture you at the table, glancing at the door, smiling at your friends and pretending you weren’t disappointed. The thought made his throat ache.
Through the sliver of a half-open door, he saw you—bathed in candlelight, laughter spilling from your lips as Mina, Hyunji, and Sarah, your friends from high school, leaned in. He couldn’t hear the words but he knew the cadence, the way you let the others talk first, the way you pulled a strand of hair over your lips when you were about to say something honest.
For a moment, he let himself hope you looked happy because of him. Maybe you were telling them something sweet he’d said, some private joke. Maybe you were bragging about him, how he could cook the perfect soft-boiled egg, how he never let you carry the groceries alone.
He started to move toward the door, but your name caught his ear. He hesitated, just out of sight, the weight of lateness making him cowardly. He shouldn’t have listened. He knew that. But he did.
Mina’s voice was unmistakable—quiet, but edged with concern. “Hey, Y/N, are you sure about Choi Yeonjun? I mean, you’re always waiting for him. Doesn’t it ever eat away at you, being alone so much?”
The words came through the wall as if designed for him to hear, a knife’s edge beneath the laughter.
Hyunji’s words cut deeper, each one a stone in Yeonjun’s gut. “He’s younger, and you always come second to his career being an idol and all. If it was you, wouldn’t you want to be the priority for once?”
“You deserve someone who puts you first," Sarah chimed in.
He froze, every muscle tense. He shouldn’t have listened. He should have walked in, made a joke, broken the tension.
But he stood, rooted, and let the pain wash over him because he knew every word was true.
He wondered how many times you had defended him, how many times you had lied to your friends for his sake.
You were quiet, and every heartbeat was a countdown to your answer. When you finally spoke, your voice was soft but carried a strength he had never managed for himself.
“He is busy—it’s his life. I knew that. But he loves me, and he tries his best, even if it costs him sleep or time.”
Sarah’s sigh was a blade. “But is that enough? Youngjae adored you. He was stable, predictable. He never made you cry.”
The table fell silent, the unspoken things heavier than any words.
“It’s not too late to start over, Y/N,” Mina advised, her voice gentle. “We’re still young and you’ve only been together for a few years.”
You knew your friends meant well, so you stayed silent as you thought of what to answer.
Yeonjun’s heart cracked at the thought of you considering starting over. He remembered every missed birthday and anniversary when he was on tour, every apologetic text sent from a dance studio at midnight, every excuse about exhaustion that hid the truth: he was scared to let you down, and did anyway.
He saw you waiting in a dark apartment, candles burnt low for no reason but hope, the dinner cold on the table as you paced the hallway, checking your phone and pretending you weren’t disappointed.
How many times had you forgiven him without complaint?
How many times had you comforted him first, even when he was the one who had failed?
The memory unspooled: the first time he confessed he loved you, blurted out under a neon sign while you both shivered in the rain after his clumsy attempt of asking you out for coffee. He had been so sure then, so earnest, promising you the world. Now even his promises seemed small, brittle things.
Your answer was a lifeline, even as it shredded him. “I don’t want safe. I don’t want to look back and wonder ‘what if.’ With Yeonjun, I want us to build something, hit those milestones together—struggle, yes, but grow. He’s the one I want that with. No one else.”
The words settled in his bones. He wanted to believe them, but part of him wondered if you deserved better., if he was just selfish for holding on.
He almost couldn’t stand the relief and guilt warring in his chest. You forgave so easily, and he wasn’t sure he deserved it.
You checked your phone, forced a smile for your friends. “I should call him, see if he’s almost here.” The others nodded, and you stepped out, dialing with a thumb that shook.
Yeonjun swallowed his shame and stepped in as if nothing had happened. “No need,” he said, voice too bright, too practiced. “I’m here.”
He watched you turn, surprise and something softer flickering across your face. You looked at him like he was the only person in the world, and it broke him.
You looked up. Your eyes were warm, searching. The others greeted him out of obligation, but he felt exposed, raw, every word still ringing in his ears.
Mina avoided his gaze, Hyunji offered a polite smile, Sarah’s eyes lingered a moment too long—he wondered what she saw, if she was counting the ways he could shatter you.
Dinner was a minefield.
He asked safe questions, laughed when he should, but every comment was a reminder of the gap between him and your world.
They talked about high school, old boyfriends, the time you snuck into a club together.
He tried to play along, but he didn’t belong in those stories, and he knew it. You reached for his hand under the table, and he clung to it, anchorless otherwise.
Afterward, he helped you into the car, careful with the door, and buckled up with a practiced flick.
The drive was silent at first, the city a blur outside. He focused on the road, knuckles white on the wheel, lane markers flashing by in a rhythm that threatened to lull him into panic.
Finally, you spoke, almost a whisper: “You’re really quiet.”
He couldn’t look at you. “I… I heard what your friends said. What you said.” He expected you to be angry, to call him out for eavesdropping, but you didn’t.
You waited, steady. “I knew you might.”
He laughed, bitter and small. “I’m sorry. For making you defend me. For not being there, for making you feel like you have to wait. I didn’t realize—maybe I didn’t want to realize—how hard it’s been.”
Your hand slipped over his, grounding him. “You’re not perfect. But you’re mine. I knew what I was choosing, Yeonjun. I choose you, every day, even when it’s hard.” You squeezed, and he felt it all the way through, the slow thaw of fear that maybe you’d leave.
Maybe he wasn’t irredeemable.
He shook, finally letting it show. “I’m scared I’ll keep failing you. That you’ll wake up and realize you deserve someone who can give you everything.”
You squeezed his hand, voice trembling but sure. “I don’t want everything. I want you. Even if it’s messy, even if it hurts sometimes. You’re worth it. I never felt second—not once.”
Tears pricked at his eyes. He pressed your hand to his lips, needing you to feel the promise in his touch. “I’ll do better. I swear, I’ll find a way to be what you deserve. I'm going to give you the best years.”
You brushed a tear from his cheek, thumb tracing gentle circles. “Just love me, Choi Yeonjun. That’s all I’ve ever needed.”
You leaned over the console, resting your head on his shoulder, and for the first time, he let himself breathe, let the moment settle with all of its imperfections.
For the first time in months, the ache in his chest softened, replaced by a fragile hope.
Under the city’s neon haze, with your hand in his, Yeonjun finally let himself realize—he had to give you the best years from here on.
i checked your acc cs you reblogged one of my friends fics but but but i looked further and reblogged threeee of my friends posts!!!!11!! so i think ure epic
soobin stands in front of you, his fingers nervously flipping the heart-sealed envelope. his weight shifts, gaze low to the floor, nervous to meet your own. he knows he’s been caught red-handed, cheeks flushing instantly with a warm pink hue. “i… yeah,” he finally admits, barely above a whisper. “i didn’t want you to figure it out this way.”
you smile, heart fluttering as everything suddenly clicks — the decorated notes with love poems written on them, each written in black ink and folded with care. quiet delicate words full of metaphors and love, the kind of words that only someone you know would craft. lines about how your laugh sounded like spring, the way your presence made ordinary hallways feel like someplace worth staying in a little longer. every single one was perfect in a way that made your chest ache — like whoever wrote them didn’t just notice you… they understood you. wanted you.
“why didn’t you just tell me, soob?” you ask gently, tucking your hair behind your ear. he lets out a soft, breathy laugh — half embarrassed, half relieved. “because you’re… you,” he says, eyes lifting to finally meet yours. “and i didn’t want to ruin anything by saying the wrong thing.”
he has got to be kidding.
saying the wrong thing?
you nearly let out a chuckle, how could someone who writes like that ever say the wrong thing? this is the same boy who left you poems so beautiful, they made your heart ache, verses spun from quiet longing, plucking the words straight from a fairytale. you step a little closer, tilting your head teasingly. “and what would you have said?” soobin hesitates — then exhales, shoulders relaxing like he’s finally decided to stop hiding. “i would’ve told you that i like you,” he murmurs. “a lot. and that every time you smile at me, it does something to my heart that i can’t explain.” your breath catches at the sincerity in his voice. warm, hopeful, nervous.
“you should’ve said that sooner,” you whisper, cheeks heating up. “because maybe i… like you too.”
his eyes widen, lips parting in disbelief. “really?”
instead of answering, you reach up and gently cup his face — and then lean in, pressing your lips to his in the softest, sweetest kiss. his breath hitches in surprise, but the shock melts into something tender and shy as his hands find your waist and he kisses you back — slowly, carefully, like you might disappear if he moves too fast.
when you finally pull away, both of you smiling like idiots, you can’t resist adding with a little grin:
“secret admirer… kind of dramatic, don’t you think?” soobin laughs, ears turning bright red. “yeah… but it worked, didn’t it?”
and judging by the way you kiss him again — it most definitely did.
genre: fluff, best friends to lovers, crack, little angst
synopsis: after yeonjun hears you referring to him as someone who's like a brother ...he tries his hardest to make you see him as a potential boyfriend.
or in which you're perplexed at all the movie hangouts your friend has been initiating.
warning: mature language, reader is assumed to be fem
notes: honestly, i always try to cut down the word count to make it more available for people who only read drabbles/blurbs but i just CANT. so here's another short oneshot T-T and as always, reblog to help the algorithm pick up on this :D
yeonjun was confused walking back home -- no, the whole day, he was disturbed. the reason for this was yesterday...when he went to get drinks for both you and him at a frat party.
the crowds were insanely hard to get through (and it didn't help that people kept on stopping him to 'catch up' or whatnot) so it took him more than fifty minutes to come back with the drinks he promised to get.
but it looked like it was too late because the people you were surrounding yourself with when yeonjun was there...disappeared. instead, you're bundled up, alone in a corner, with a guy he does not know. which was already weird because yeonjun knew everybody, and that was enough reason for him to hurry his ass up through sweaty frat drunks and make sure the unknown guy isn't some sleazeball.
that time he wasn't aware that he rolled his eyes but he did conciously plan to squeeze himself into the conversation...and technically cockblock.
but when he neared you...that's when his world shattered...on more dramatic terms. it was more like his confidence was shot down to the deepest depths of hell.
"oh, yeonjun? pfft, he's like a brother!"
even though it was almost barely audible due to the blasting music, 'brother' to his ears were magnified -- the word circling through his head.
brother. brother?!
and as a result of this baffling situation, he had backed himself in an opposing corner with your cup in his right and his cup in his left, way further than you now, thinking of where did it go wrong?
he's never had someone friend-zone him -- for heavensake, he's yeonjun, he's aware of how attractive he is. but brother-zone? that was even worse of an attack!
it doesn't matter that you said it -- come on, that's barely the case. it's the fact that someone was so unattracted to him that he was seen as a sibling.
sure, you and yeonjun were a sort of bunch that have been together since... forever, really. seriously, you were friends since elementary -- when you joined the school, fourth grade, mindlessly kicking rocks at recess he approached you like the social butterfly kid that he was, asking you if you wanted to come play with his friends.
once he took another sip of the red cup in his right hand, the fruity punch being way too overbearing (just how'd you like it), he furrowed his brows together.
he definitely doesn't see you as a sister.
he'd have to admit that when middle school hit and his puberty was acting up around ...the seventh grade? he was convinced that he would eventually marry you like the way his parents were. a brother wouldn't have felt that way about his sister! normally that is...
granted, he mostly blamed that on the first strikes of puberty because right after middle school, he moved on from the thought -- completely abandoning his pre-puberty dreams, but that was besides the point!
he was getting nauseous from the sweetness of his drink and the further he thought about the way you thought of him, he felt that he would ruin the party by vomiting on someone.
his night was officially ruined. absolutely, fundementally, literally ruined.
and thats how he found himself unfocused on everything around him the next day, finally making the decision to consult with his roommates about this frankly, very big conundrum.
"you can't just purposefully leave out important details? like, how am i supposed to diagnose you properly bro?" beomgyu asked as he spammed the keys on his controller.
"you're not diagnosing me--" yeonjun exhaled, wanting to to keep the banter to the minimum in respect to the issue he's facing. "literally what do you think we're doing right now?"
"i'm going to be completely honest and say ...i have no idea-- shit, what the fuck are you doing heeseung? jump! jump!" he yelled towards the big screen in front of him.
yeonjun groaned, turning his head to behind the couch. "soobin, it's not too late to help out your only friend!" he yelled out in hopes of it reaching the guy's bedroom.
and with no response, he turned back to watching the game beomgyu was playing. "god, you know how many times i gave that guy life changing advice on women?"
"and this is how he repays me?"
beomgyu nodded along to whatever yeonjun was mumbling about until the brunette magically connected dots and euphoric realization hit him. beomgyu almost scrambled around to completely face him this time, "hold on, hold on. yeonjun you lost me, are you having girl problems?"
to that, yeonjun rolled his eyes. "i wouldn't call it 'girl problems', that sounds like a problem soobin would have."
"uh-huh ...uh-huh. no, no yeah." beomgyu said nodding mindlessly to save the guy some face. "heeseung i'm logging off dude, yeonjuns got girl problems."
yeonjun just deadpanned to the back of the guys head, having no will to correct him.
he wanted to get the pending issue out of the way first.
it was more situated a few minutes later. instead of beomgyu sitting on the floor criss crossed, leaned on the couch yeonjun was sitting on, beomgyu was now sitting on the chair next to the couch, his elbows on his knees, brows deeply furrowed.
and not to forget yeonjun's pen and paper in hand.
"so... you're trying to get a girl to like you?"
"not like. i want her to see me as someone she would want as a boyfrie--" when he saw beomgyus brow raising up as to say 'whats the difference' he cleared his throat. "yea, basically."
"don't you know how to do that though?"
he shrugged, "it's different this time."
"how?"
"trust me, it's very different."
"okay but how?"
"you'd be the last person i'd ask for an interrogation beomgyu, that'd be a task for like... taehyun or something."
"i'm sorry that i need to understand my client first--"
"i am not your client" yeonjun said, rolling his eyes.
"what's going on here?", yeonjun turned his head to see soobin behind the kitchen island, scooping himself some icecream.
"dude, where were you when i needed you?", yeonjun asked.
"me and yj are holding a dating therapy session."
yeonjun turned his head to beomgyu, "again, it's not a therapy sessio--"
"you're getting dating advice from beomgyu?" soobin asked, his face scrunched up doubting if it really got this bad.
and back to soobin. "when you say it like that.."
"soobin can you please leave yeonjun alone? he's in a very vulnerable state right now"
then beomgyu again. "i'm seriously going to beat you up." he said, biting his bottom lip and raising his fist against his roommate. beomgyu immediately jumps dramatically, shielding himself with his arms up.
"see? he's getting violent!"
soobin finally plopped on the couch next to yeonjun with his cup of icecream. "explain it to me, maybe i can help you out."
"i'll save you the trouble, he's not explaining for whatever reason--"
"a girl said that i'm like a brother to her." yeonjun reluctantly mumbled.
a wave of silence hit the dorm, for a minute yeonjun thought they just didn't hear him and to be completely honest, he was about to thank the gods because he regretted saying anything the moment he did, but that thought was immediately shot down when both sides of his ears were being blasted by humiliating laughter.
soobin got up, patting yeonjun's shoulder as reassurance, still laughing. "yeah, good luck with that hyung."
"okay, it's not even that bad--"
"dude, not even cha eunwoo would survive the sibling zone." beomgyu said, a hard reality check for yeonjun. "though hyunbin might.." he mumbled to himself. yeonjun caught it though, but it didn't matter. yeonjun was no hyunbin.
"fuck." he breathed out, the utensils he was holding had lesser grip on them as he just stared into nothingness. beomgyu was right. he's forever stuck as a brother in your eyes.
but then a ring of his phone snaps him out of it.
when he checks the id, his ambition is restored almost immediately for whatever reason; it was you.
"yo why are you smiling?", beomgyu said trying to peep at yeonjun's phone, but yeonjun reflexes took over, and he immediately turned his phone off.
"beomgyu, don't you think i kind of resemble hyunbin?" he said with a head tilt and an overconfident smirk, talking like he just had an epiphany.
"the one from crash landing on you? uh no."
yeonjun jumped from the couch a new man, his pen and paper in one hand and his ringing phone on the other. he finally faced beomgyu as the man he was, choi motherfucking yeonjun. "i gotta answer this call...and also, if you ask anybody who my celebrity doppelganger is, everyone would proudly say its hyunbin dumbass."
then yeonjun left with a smile and a surge of new confidence overtaking his face as he spoke away on the phone with you, while beomgyu was left in the living room more than confused as he looked up the actor on his phone.
instead of finding the difference, beomgyus brain was tasking him into finding the similarities...which, there was one to yeonjun's credit.
black hair.
"when are the others coming?" you asked looking around the crowded floor as yeonjun was buying popcorn and drinks. "the movies about to start.." you mumbled, checking your phone for the hundredth time.
"oh, i guess its just me and you again." he said with the popcorn and bottle of coke finally in his arms.
"again? don't you think this is getting suspicious?" you said as you walked alongside yeonjun, not noticing the way yeonjun just gulped.
you stopped in your tracks, in turn yeonjun bumping into your back a little, a few popcorns dropping on the floor.
"hey...you don't think.." you furrowed your brows, in deep thought. this has been on your mind for a while now. "you don't think they're trying to set us up or something do you?"
after the third time your friends stood you and yeonjun up, you were starting to think they were pushing, what they called, the 'ynjun' agenda..but it was the first time you'd ever bring it up to yeonjun, so you just laughed it off -- scolding your friends will come on a later date.
"nevermind, lets go inside the movie theatre jun."
"ya' y/n, wait."
you turned around to an awkward standing yeonjun at first, but he immediately straightens up and clears his throat, with a smile you've grown so attached to -- the smile that reached his eyes. for something so simple, it made your heart beat a little quicker than normal.
"can you hold the coke for a sec? i'm trynna--i'm trynna do something."
you break into a light laugh, "um, okay." that snapped you out of it because you remember who he was again -- your platonic best friend.
you took the cola bottle off his right arm, expecting him to take his phone out of his pocket to check something.
but as you stared at your sneakers, checking if they're untied, you felt his hand on top of your head, which startled you.
you looked up to meet yeonjuns eyes, a brow raised.
before you could say anything, he ruffled the top of your hair gently, leaning towards you a bit, to shorten the height difference.
"y/n, let this be our first date." your platonic best friend's voice, so warm and gentle you thought you would only hear in dreams, said those words...to you.
"so you asked her out on a date but you don't even like her...? that doesn't make any sense." soobin said, sitting on the couch watching beomgyu hog up the tv screen, his use time running out.
"bros an asshole..but i feel like we knew that already-- fuck you heeseung. you fucking suck ass you need to get off my team." beomgyu yelled.
"okay, first of all, it's not that bad. she doesn't like me at all, plus the date was how we would usually hung out anyway."
soobin just shook his head -- being the only guy with a functioning moral compass amongst the people he called his friends was exhausting.
as soon as he was about to lecture yeonjun, the tv timer goes off -- and that makes his plan a fleeting thought.
"it's my turn now, throw me the remote."
"bro give me a second, let me finish this gam--"
"no! unplug your console." soobin yelled impatiently, he knew better than to let beomgyu go over the timer again.
beomgyu groaned, abandoning heeseung in the game and unplugging his console. when soobin got control of the tv and opened up netflix, beomgyu stood up to sit next to yeonjun -- who had gotten a notification from you.
"yj, who's the chick? you never told us."
"uh, you don't really know her." he mindlessly answered, focused on the messages from you.
[y/n, 9:16 pm] that serenade ..as cringe as it was..
[y/n, 9:16 pm] like lets be serious, there was NO reason for u to get on top of the cafeteria table lol
he hadn't yet told his roommates what he did this morning, thinking that he'd get a longer lecture by soobin.
but he had took inspiration from the movie you guys were watching the other night at the cinema. you talked his ear off about how romantic it was, how you would fall at the feet of dicaprio if he did the same to you..
he was no dicaprio, but he could try is what he thought. and though you forced him to get down half way through, he could still enjoy sharing the laughter, your laughter, that was ringing in his ear.
[yeonjun, 9:17 pm] as cringe as it was...? you're in love w me ;)
he typed it as a joke, a smile tugging on his lips waiting for your reaction to his teasing.
but beomgyu hovered over his phone out of boredom again, and out of instinct yeonjun threw his phone -- the three chois looking at the phone on the floor in shock.
"bro, why are you being so secretive? were you sexting?" beomgyu yelled, accusatory.
"can we collectively have some decency in this house, jesus fucking christ beomgyu." soobin muttered.
"shut up church boy, yeonjun's hiding something for sure."
"or maybe he just wanted some privacy dude?" soobin retaliated.
yeonjun jumped up pointing at soobin, "exactly! exactly! listen to soobin, you were invading my personal space. so not cool beomgyu."
"yeah, okay. you've never agreed with me with this much enthusiasm before. he's hiding something. quick, check his phone." to soobins order, beomgyu was prepared to run to the phone when he made eye contact with the owner -- but yeonjun was quick.
"good god, wait wait. what do you want beomgyu--fuck, if you wanted her name it's y/n alright? the chick's y/n!" yeonjun doesn't do well under pressure, at all.
"what are you talking about--" beomgyu's face morphed into shock with his mouth agape. "--oh my fucking god. yeonjun, y/n's the chick? the one who brother zoned you?" beomgyu yelled.
"yeah...?" he said hesitantly.
"i can't--i just can't. soobin knock some sense into him." beomgyu turned away dramatically, shaking his head.
"yeonjun--" soobin started.
"dude, y/n has been in love with you for like a decade!" beomgyu blurted out, turning to face yeonjun again, interrupting soobin.
"uh..no? guys, i literally told you that she said she sees me as a brother. i saw her telling some guy that at the frat party last week."
beomgyu walked towards yeonjun, grabbing both of his shoulders, shaking him, "she. didn't. brother. zone. you. you stupid fuck!"
"she's been saying that to people because its so obvious that every time she tries moving on, she still likes you." soobin added in.
yeonjun, with his brows furrowed, tore beomgyu's hands off his shoulder -- walking towards his phone.
and it felt like a million thoughts were racing around his head the three seconds it took for him to get his phone, like a storm, a big tornado clouding his mind. but the most heavy was...how long? a fucking decade? and he never noticed?
he found it hard to swallow, almost nervous...that it was true.
the two other chois were staring at him, exchanging glances.
and when he picked up his phone, it was like he feared.
his text was left on read.
yeonjun's roommates were right for once.
all the secret glances he'd catch, a smirk twitching on his face as he pretended not to see, all the times you'd practically asked him out -- he shot it all down subconsciously thinking it was nothing more than coincidences on top of coincidences.
"you know, i was thinking it was weird you freaked out so much about the brother thing. yunjin told you that right to your face like last month and you didn't say anything." beomgyu said as he let himself fall on the couch.
beomgyu was right, he didn't care when yunjin said it.
yeonjun looked at beomgyu, eyes confused. "so...what are you trying to say?"
"maybe you feel the same way...? god, do i have to spell it out for you every single time?" he said dramatically, groaning.
"okay yeonjun. drama's over, go do your walk of shame to your room." soobin said, getting comfortable on the chair again to watch the premier of his show.
"and reflect!" beomgyu shouted out as yeonjun went over to his room, obeying soobin with his phone tight in hand.
"what are we watchin?" beomgyu finally asked, soobin giving him a side eye in response.
"we? beomgyu, i'm not watching another show premier with you again."
"just because my commentary is too good doesn't mean you have to get all jealous--"
yeonjun bursts out of his room through the narrow hallway that lead to the main door, a coat hanging on his right arm as he hurriedly slipped on his sneakers.
it startled both of the guys on the couch, looking over at him with brows raised: what is yeonjun doing?
no one could get a word in, not even beomgyu, before he was totally out of sight.
only adrenaline was rushing through his veins as he shut the door behind him, putting his arms through his padded coat, and sprinting to the elevator -- frantically spamming the button to make him falsely hope the elevator would reach his floor any faster
it wasn't like he had to do something in the ten minutes his head thought he had left, no, it was the realization that had him acting in urgency he never thought he'd have for a girl. all of his stupidity dawning on him -- for fucksake, of course it mattered that you said he was like a brother, it was you.
and as he ran out the building -- his head felt dizzy, not because it was overwhelmed with thoughts, no, this time he only had a few but those were harder to manage his head.
did he ever give up on you in middle school?
did he ever move on from you in highschool?
did he really dump a dream, you -- the dream he had as a boy, with all the other dreams he never thought would happen?
when yeonjun was finally in front of your family house, the one you still chose to live in through your college experience, he moved to where'd he guess the window of your room was.
"y/n?" he shouted out with all the energy he could muster up. he had to bend over his knee to catch his breath, because he would shout your name again.
again, and again, and again.
blood rushed up to his cheeks, not because of the cold, because he was embarrassed -- what if you weren't even here?
he waited, staring up at the window which showed no sign of your room light being on.
but he wouldn't give up, he'd have to try something else.
yeonjun looked down at his feet, the absence of the sun being harder on his vision. there were no rocks, the only thing visible to his eyes were branch sticks which only made him hope that his aim was good enough to get your window a few times.
it wasn't.
when the last stick that he found hit a window that wasn't the one he was trying to aim at - he cursed under his breath, defeated. yeonjun concluded that this was a bigger fail than the fucking time he found out that he was flirting at a family--not a class, reunion.
he could just go back to his dorm and call you is what he thought as he exhaled, a fog escaping his lips into the cold, feeling even more of a loser.
"yeonjun?!" he turned around at the familiar voice calling out for him and his eyes widened, lighting up as they set on your face, finally out of the window, with your room light making it a little easier for him to see your features.
"y/n?" he shouted back, ecstatic.
"what are you doing out here?", you shouted the words slowly so he could pick it up. then add, "it's fucking cold!"
"i just wanted to know" he inhaled, the cold air burning his nostrils, "why you didn't answer my text!"
it was silent, yeonjuns lips agape waiting for a response.
"you're fucking insane!" you said laughs slipping between your words, yeonjun scoffs lightly, a wide smile on his face.
he put his hands up as walls to his mouth to echo his words louder, "for you!" he shouted out in response.
"shut the fuck up!" it was a distant yell, one you both assumed, as you met eye contact, was y/n's neighbors. and then you laughed again at the untimely part of it all.
when you turned away from the window, yeonjun found himself yearningly waiting for you to come back. hands that were in his pockets felt a vibration -- his phone.
he took it out just to see a notification from his, quite frankly, favorite person ever.
[y/n, 10:26 pm] lets talk on here lol
he looked up and saw you at the window again, with you waving your phone at him -- it earned a smile tugging once more, on the ends of his lips.
just how did he manage to ignore overwhelming feelings about you, of you, for the past decade?
[yeonjun, 10:27 pm] come down. i'm not gonna tell u this thru text
[y/n, 10:27 pm] why not?
[yeonjun, 10:27 pm] don't wanna
[y/n, 10:28 pm] youre asking me to get out of my cozy ass room just bcs u dont wanna??
"yeah! basically dumbass!" he shouted, startling your poor self out of your focus on your phone. you glared at him, yeonjun most likely missing it.
[y/n, 10:28 pm] STOP DONT DO THAT THOSE PSYCHOS ARE GOING TO CALL THE COPS ON ME
[yeonjun, 10:29 pm] ok then come down before i freeze my fingers off
when you slid your window closed, closing your curtains, he immediately turned to quickly run towards the front of your house. yeonjun leaned on the fence of your porch, smiling with thoughts of you clouding his mind, as he looked up at the moon.
it was all so cliché -- the type of scene his roommates would squeal over and one that he would roll his eyes to, but if he were to watch this part of his life, again and again -- the moment you opened the door, the moment you both exchanged looks that communicated 'we feel the same way don't we?', a short awkward laugh that was shared, the moment you hesitantly opened your mouth to say something -- and then, the final moment of his longing lips crashing onto yours, his cold hands warming up the moment he cupped your face, the repocracy from your side making him smile into the kiss, the euphoric realisation that he wasn't late, you didn't stop loving him yet, and when he cut the kiss short, both your lips barely apart, yeonjun whispered an i love you, and to it you smiled, pulling him into your house, to finish your kiss -- he would too, squeal over the scene, kicking his feet like a highschool girl.
ending a/n: YOU FINISHED IT YAY :D yeonjun was lowk an asshole for wanting to lead on mc at first for his own benefit, but hes such a cutie im sorry, its easy to forgive T-T let me know what you feel about this piece, it was so fun to write!!
ik i alr said this but you put me on to Shiver i read ur fic a while ago but i still listen to that song DAILYYY ur lit an angel sent from heaven bye😭❤️
AHHHHHH I LOVE SHIVER !!!! IT JUST NEVER GETS OLD !!!!!! i feel like we would have the same music taste >.< do you have anything you would recommend 🫣
Hi, any txt member is fine but i’d prefer Hueningkai and anything to do with a gut wrenching angst with a build up plot on how she fell first and he fell harder, i don’t know how to word it exactly i’m sooo bad at this 😅🤭 but i do hope you get what i meant
Almost Something pt.1 / idol!Hueningkai x Reader / angst
It started slowly.
Little things at first. A shorter reply here. A canceled plan there. An unread message that stayed that way for days. It wasn’t like Y/N wanted to hurt him. She was just trying to protect herself.
From what, exactly? Even she couldn’t explain it in words.
Hueningkai had always been in her life. Since she met his sister Lea, they’d become an accidental trio. Movie nights, coffee runs, dance practice… memories folded into years like pages in a worn-out photo album. He had always been the sweet younger brother with too-long limbs and too-soft eyes. She never meant to fall for him.
But she did. Silently. Painfully. First.
And now that he was everywhere — on screens, on posters, in every comment section of her own posts — it felt like the universe was mocking her.
So she pulled away.
It was easier to call it boundaries. Easier to pretend she was just busy. But deep down, she knew it was fear. Fear that the longer she stayed in his orbit, the more she'd lose herself to a fantasy that could never be real.
He was an idol. She was just his sister’s friend.
She tried to convince herself she was okay with that.
But late at night, when her phone lit up with a message from him, and she stared at it for minutes before locking the screen again… she knew she wasn’t.
She'd fallen. And now she was trying to unfall without a parachute.
The video wasn’t supposed to go viral.
Lea had dragged her into it — a harmless dance challenge. Just the three of them in her living room, laughing, joking, moving like they used to. For a few minutes, it felt like nothing had changed.
Until it did.
"Did you see the comments?" Lea had messaged her that night.
Y/N clicked. Her heart dropped.
"IS NO ONE GONNA TALK ABOUT THE WAY KAI LOOKED AT HER???”
"His eyes were SCREAMING."
"They’re totally in love and no one can convince me otherwise.”
Her fingers hovered over the screen.
She watched the video again.
There it was. A moment — just one — where she’d looked away, laughing, and Kai had looked at her like she held the moon in her hands.
She closed the app.
She couldn’t breathe.
The room felt smaller. Her heart beat in her throat.
Because part of her wanted to believe it meant something. That the look was real. But the louder part screamed, don’t be stupid.
He was kind. He looked at everyone like that… right?
But no matter how much she tried to rationalize it, that one frame kept playing in her head. Rewinding. Repeating.
And that night, she lay awake until 3 a.m., wondering if it meant something to him too. Wondering if she was being a coward.
Kai noticed before she even realized how obvious it was. The way she stopped staying over. The way her texts lost the spark. The way her laughter didn’t reach her eyes anymore.
It bothered him. More than he wanted to admit.
At first, he thought she was going through something. He told himself to give her space. But space turned into silence. And silence turned into an ache in his chest that wouldn’t go away.
He started staying up late, wondering if he said something wrong. If he had missed something. He scrolled through their old texts — the endless conversations, the inside jokes, the midnight confessions about music and dreams and dumb things like cereal preferences.
Now she barely replied with more than a "lol" or a thumbs up.
"Did I do something?" he’d asked Lea once.
She’d shrugged. "You’re not the only one who notices, Kai. She’s different. Guarded. Like she’s trying not to feel something."
He didn’t ask what. Maybe he already knew.
Later that night, he sat in the dorm’s practice room long after everyone had left. Just staring at the mirror, the song on loop. He should’ve been reviewing the choreo. But his mind was stuck on her. On how he missed her laugh. Her teasing. The way she called him out when he got too in his head.
He missed her like a habit he wasn’t ready to break.
The next day, during rehearsal, Yeonjun noticed.
"You’re off today," he said, tossing Kai a towel.
Kai just shook his head. "I’m fine."
"No, you’re not. You look like someone stole your cat."
Kai let out a breath. "It’s Y/N."
Yeonjun paused, then gave a slow nod. "You miss her."
Kai didn't deny it.
"What happened?"
"She pulled away. And I don’t know why."
Yeonjun tossed the towel back. "You sure you don’t?"
It was Lea who finally broke the dam.
They were in her apartment, just the two of them. Y/N hadn’t expected the question. It came like a punch.
"Why are you avoiding Kai?"
Y/N looked up from her tea, startled. "I’m not."
Lea raised a brow.
"Y/N, I’ve known you since high school. Don’t bullshit me."
Y/N’s hands tightened around the mug. Her voice dropped. "It’s just... easier this way."
"Easier for who? For him, who’s been miserable for weeks? Or for you, who cries in my bathroom when you think I don’t hear you?"
Y/N looked away.
"You liked him first, didn’t you?"
She hesitated. Her throat tightened.
"I still do."
The words cracked as they left her.
"I didn’t want to. I kept telling myself he’s off limits. That it’s stupid. He’s an idol. He’s your brother. We live in two different worlds."
Lea got up, walked around the table, and sat on the floor in front of her.
"He’s also a person. A person who looks at you like he’s never seen color until you walked in."
Y/N’s breath shook.
"I’m scared, Lea. I’m terrified. People online rip girls apart just for breathing near idols. I couldn’t stand it if it was me. If they hated me. If I ruined his image."
Lea grabbed her hand. "He can protect himself. But who’s protecting you?"
Y/N’s tears spilled over. "I thought pushing him away would make the feelings stop. But it just made everything worse. And now I’ve broken something I don’t know how to fix."
Lea whispered: "Then let him fix it with you."
Kai didn’t mean to lose his patience. But he’d had enough.
That night, after dance practice, still in his hoodie and sweatpants, he walked straight to her apartment. No call. No warning.
He hesitated at her door. She opened it, startled.
"Kai?"
"We need to talk."
She stepped aside. He walked in, jaw clenched.
"Why are you shutting me out?"
"I’m not—"
"Don’t lie to me!" he snapped. "You used to talk to me. You used to trust me. Now I’m some distant memory you’re trying to erase."
"It’s not like that—"
"Then what the hell is it?!" he shouted, eyes burning. "Because you don’t get to decide this alone. You don’t get to push me out and pretend I don’t notice."
"I was trying to protect myself!" she cried.
"From me?!"
She flinched. "From everything. The fans. The pressure. You."
"So that’s what you think of me?" His voice dropped to something deadly quiet. "You think I’d let anyone hurt you? That I’d stand by and let the world tear you apart?"
"I don’t want to ruin your life."
"You think being without you isn’t ruining me already?!" he shouted again. "You think it doesn’t kill me seeing you pretend I don’t matter?"
She started crying, her voice shaking. "I just thought... if I disappeared, it would be easier. For both of us."
He stepped closer, furious and heartbroken all at once.
"So that’s how little you think of me? That I’d just forget you? After all these years? After everything?"
She looked up, trembling.
"You don’t get to make this decision without me, Y/N. Not about us. You don’t get to decide we’re nothing without even asking me what I want."
"Then what do you want?!" she yelled.
He grabbed her hands. "You. I want you. Every confusing, terrifying, impossible part of this."
She sobbed. "I don’t know how to do this."
"Then we learn. Together. But don’t you ever push me out like that again. Don’t treat me like I’m just some idol in your phone screen."
"I was scared."
"So was I!" he snapped. "But I didn’t run. You did. And it fucking hurt."
Silence. Just the sound of two people trying to catch their breath in the aftermath of emotional collapse.
genre: slowburn (bc i love them), borderline secretive love, angst-ish
summary: In which a tour stylist tries to keep things professional, but accidentally falls for the most chaotic member of the band — somewhere between mic straps, missed cues, and one very inconvenient kiss.
w/c: 8.2k (lwk thought it was longer)
warnings!!!: nothing i think, stupidity lwk and mild angst
a/n: i like completely forgot halfway how it started so i got no clue if it makes sense but i hope so, plus i had like no plan for this. promise i dont ship taegyu idrk what that idea was or if i executed it well. also im obsessed with upside down kiss & beautiful strangers.
You learned early that on tour, sleep was optional, but appearances weren't.
Which is how you found yourself standing under the worst possible fluorescent lighting in an arena locker room at 6:42 a.m., caffeine patch barely clinging to your skin, trying to detangle a pair of in-ear monitors that weren’t yours.
Beomgyu was already late.
Someone brushed past you with a rolling rack, muttering something about missing accessories and divine punishment. Another stylist sighed at a pile of sweat-soaked rehearsal shirts. And you?
You just inhaled, tucked your clipboard tighter to your chest, and kept moving. Day one of being assigned as Beomgyu’s stylist. No one had said the words aloud, but it was clear: you'd been promoted because the last person in this role barely survived three cities before quitting. The rest of the crew gave you a kind of distant sympathy usually reserved for funeral attendees.
You didn’t mind the challenge. You minded the expectations. The ones that came with a name like Beomgyu.
He was brilliant on stage. Always had been. But off-stage? A fuse looking for fire. Quick-witted, chaotic, unpredictable. The kind of person who left a mess behind and made you laugh while cleaning it up. And now, somehow, he was your responsibility.
You checked the list again: outfit steamed, shoes lined up, hair product requested and ready. Only the wearer was missing.
“You’re looking for me?”
The voice came from behind you.
You didn’t jump, but you did exhale slowly before turning.
Beomgyu was leaned against the doorway, hood up, eyes half-lidded, a lollipop stick hanging from his lips. Sleep still clung to the corners of him, but his grin was already sharp.
“You’re late,” you said.
He raised a brow. “So you are looking for me.”
You didn’t answer.
Instead, you handed him the first layer of his outfit and turned back toward the rolling rack.
Behind you, you heard him laugh once, low and amused.
“No name tag? Not even a hello? Cold.”
You finally turned your head, meeting his gaze without flinching. “You don’t need a hello. You need to be dressed.”
He tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to see through you. Then he stepped forward, slow and loose-limbed, until he was close enough that you caught the faintest scent of stage sweat and sugar.
“You always this charming in the morning?”
You looked up at him. He was tall. Not in the way that towered, but in the way that lingered.
“Only when I’m working with professionals,” you said.
His smile sharpened. “Guess we’ll both have to adjust.”
And then he pulled the shirt over his head, without another word.
You stepped back.
Professional. That’s what this was.
You weren’t here to fall into whatever game Beomgyu liked to play.
You were here to dress him. Style him. Get him onstage looking like every beat had been deliberate. Like the chaos didn’t bleed past the lights.
He didn’t have to know that even in the first ten minutes, you already felt it: the kind of attention that stuck. Not attraction, exactly. Not yet. But interest. The dangerous kind.
The kind that could turn into something you weren’t paid to manage.
You turned back to your clipboard.
The second day felt quieter.
Not backstage — that was still chaos. Lights humming, dancers rushing, techs shouting across headsets. But him. He was quieter.
Beomgyu didn’t flirt when he came in this time.Didn’t smile like he already had the upper hand.
He said nothing at all when you held out the outfit.
And still — somehow — it felt louder between you.
“Hair down or styled?” you asked, scanning the clipboard.
He shrugged. “Whatever’s clean.”
“Not helpful.”
“Not my job.”
You looked at him. He didn’t look back.
That was new.
You grabbed a comb from your kit and gestured. “Sit.”
He obeyed, surprisingly. But when you reached to brush through his hair, he leaned just slightly away — like being close would cost him something.
That annoyed you more than it should’ve.
You worked in silence for a while.
He didn’t fidget. Just sat still, fingers playing with a stray thread on his sweatpants. And then, very quietly:
“Do you always talk like that to the artists?”
You paused. “Like what?”
“Like you don’t care.”
You met his eyes in the mirror. “I care about the work.”
He looked back down. “Right.”
Another beat passed.
“And people?” he asked.
You didn’t answer.
Not because you didn’t want to. But because you weren’t sure what he wanted you to say.
So instead, you stepped back and handed him the mirror.
He barely looked.
“Looks good,” he said, voice flat.
“Of course it does.”
You didn’t wait for him to leave the chair.
You were already across the room, checking Soobin’s jacket, adjusting a stray hem, pretending your chest wasn’t hot with something unnameable.
Later, you’d find the gum wrapper he left folded neatly on your table.
Written on the back:You should care about yourself too.
You still weren’t used to the way Beomgyu watched you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.
He didn’t flirt anymore.Didn’t tease. Not like he used to.
But he noticed things.
He passed you water bottles before you realized you were dehydrated. He adjusted the lighting in the dressing room when it was giving you a headache. He made space when things got tight — without being asked.
He was… present.
Which was somehow worse than him being a nuisance.
Because it meant he was paying attention.
And you didn’t know what to do with that.
“Does he like you?”
The question came from Kai, whispered through a mouthful of rice as you both sat crouched on a crate behind a set wall.
You blinked. “Who?”
He grinned. “Beomgyu. You don’t see how he acts around you?”
You did. You just didn’t want to say it out loud.
So you said nothing.
Kai nudged your knee. “I think it’s cute.”
“He doesn’t like me,” you said flatly.
Kai just smiled wider. “Then why does he act like it’s illegal to look at anyone else when you’re around?”
You sighed. “Maybe he’s just dramatic.”
“Exactly,” Kai said.
You didn’t have time to unpack it.
Soobin called out for a button repair, and you were gone in an instant.
But that night, in the back corridor of the arena, as you stood waiting with Beomgyu’s backup outfit in hand, he walked up to you — flushed from stage, hair clinging to his face — and stopped just a little too close.
You offered him the shirt.
He didn’t take it right away.
“You’re good at this,” he said, voice low.
“At folding shirts?” you asked.
He smirked. “At seeing people.”
You didn’t answer.
You just handed him the shirt and turned to go.
But he caught your wrist before you did.
And for a split second, you felt it: the silence thick with something almost.
Almost a question. Almost a pull. Almost something you couldn’t take back.
But then someone shouted his name.
And he let go.
You didn’t turn back.
Dinner was late. Rehearsals had run over. Everyone was hungry, a little bit cranky, and sprawled across the floor of the green room like overworked children.
You sat between Taehyun and Hueningkai, passing around leftover fries and watching Yeonjun try to convince Soobin to join a round of charades.
Beomgyu sat across the room, legs stretched out, arms crossed behind his head like he was bored of everything except whatever song was playing from his phone.
He didn’t look at you. But he hadn’t left the room either.
“So what’s it like?” Taehyun asked, gesturing vaguely toward your side of the couch. “Being assigned to him full-time?”
You shrugged. “Efficient. Occasionally hazardous.”
Kai laughed. “Sounds about right.”
Taehyun looked amused. “Has he tried to charm you yet?”
“Tried?” you repeated. “Past tense?”
That made Yeonjun look over, grinning. “Oh, he absolutely tried.”
You shook your head, smirking. “He gave up.”
Someone across the room scoffed.
When you glanced over, Beomgyu was no longer looking at his phone.
“He didn’t give up,” Soobin said casually, sipping from a water bottle. “He recalibrated.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Meaning?”
Kai leaned in conspiratorially. “Meaning he started actually caring.”
That time, Beomgyu stood up.
The room went a little quiet.
He didn’t say anything — just crossed the room, dropped into the space beside you, took one of your fries, and popped it in his mouth.
“Comfortable?” you asked.
He didn’t answer. Just leaned in slightly and said low enough for only you to hear:
“You’re not easy to forget, you know.”
You stared at him.
He grinned. “Even when I try.”
You didn’t know what to say to that.
So you shoved the fry carton at his chest.
“Eat something before you start sounding poetic.”
He laughed. But his knee stayed pressed against yours.
And he didn’t move away.
The arena looked different at night.
Most of the crew had cleared out. The lights were dimmed, the soundboard on standby. It was the rare lull between madness — that strange pocket after dinner, before the final run-through, when time stretched thin and everything echoed.
You had your toolbelt strapped on again. One earpiece in. Hair clipped up. You weren’t supposed to still be working, but a strap had broken on Beomgyu’s stage harness during the last set, and you didn’t trust the quick fix someone else had done. So here you were. Backstage. Alone.
Or at least you thought you were.
“I knew it,” a voice said, half-hidden in the dark near the lighting rig. “You do sleep here.”
You didn’t turn right away. Just smoothed the fabric over the adjustment hook. “I’m fixing something.”
Beomgyu’s footsteps padded closer. He was in sweatpants, a muscle tee, hair pushed back with a headband like he’d just finished cooling down. But his voice was all energy.
“Of course you are.” He leaned against the frame beside you. “Do you ever turn it off?”
“The job?”
“Yeah. The… intensity.”
You scoffed softly. “Look who’s talking.”
Beomgyu tilted his head, looking at you fully now. “Touché.”
You kept working.
He didn’t stop watching.
“I was gonna practice alone,” he said after a beat. “But this is better.”
You glanced at him. “Practice what?”
He pulled out his phone, queued a track, and before you could argue, music began to echo through the half-lit space — a slow version of their encore song. More acoustic. Intimate.
You frowned. “You’re not in choreo for this.”
He shrugged. “No. But I wanted to try something.”
And then, wordlessly, he stepped out into the center of the floor.
It wasn’t a performance. Not exactly. It was something softer, more internal. Less flash, more feeling. A mix of improv and leftover choreo bits you recognized from older sets, ones they hadn’t done on this tour.
He moved like he didn’t expect anyone to watch.
Which made it impossible not to.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t look for attention. He was just… in it. Honest. Raw in a way you hadn’t seen before.
You didn’t realize you’d stopped working until he caught your eye mid-spin and stilled.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said, breathless.
“Like what?”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Like I’m not just figuring it out as I go.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “You are figuring it out.”
“Yeah. So are you.”
You didn’t know what he meant — or maybe you did — but your chest tightened anyway.
He walked back over, still warm from movement, but quieter now.
“I don’t think you realize how obvious it is,” he said.
You swallowed. “What is?”
“That you care.”
You didn’t answer. Didn’t move.
He stepped in closer.
Too close.
“You act like you don’t,” he murmured, voice like smoke. “But you do. About all of it. The costumes. The tech stuff. Me.”
Still, you said nothing.
So he reached out — just barely — and fixed the clip on your toolbelt that had come loose.
“Let me guess,” he said. “You hate feeling seen.”
You hated how accurate that was.
“You’re annoying,” you muttered.
“I know.”
And then he stepped back.
But not far.
“Come to rehearsal early tomorrow,” he said.
“Why?”
“Because I’ll be there,” he said simply. “And I think you want to be.”
You didn’t agree. But you didn’t say no.
Not that night. Not after watching him move like that.
The next morning, you were already backstage when the lights came on.
So was he.
No teasing. No smirk. Just a nod as you handed him his gear and an unspoken truce.
“Looks good,” you said, adjusting the collar.
He smiled, small and honest. “Thanks.”
He left the dressing room without another word.
But when you turned around, folded neatly beside your sewing kit, was a small square napkin.
A doodle of your face — exaggerated, but not unkind — with the caption: Seen. Still cool.
You rolled your eyes.
But you kept it.
And this time, you smiled too.
The travel day was supposed to be simple. A short flight, a drive to the next city, early check-in at the hotel. Easy.
But then a storm grounded every outbound flight.
So the staff split up: half the team went ahead, the rest were rerouted. You ended up on the later connection, stuck in a tiny departure lounge with two exhausted stagehands, Soobin half-asleep in a hoodie, and Beomgyu — who was very much not asleep.
“You ever notice airports feel like purgatory?” he asked, sprawled across two chairs beside you, hood up, fingers busy with a sleeve hem he’d already unraveled twice.
“Constantly,” you said, not looking up from your notes. You’d been updating the wardrobe sheet by hand, just to feel like something was under control.
“So we agree: hell isn’t fire,” he said, tapping his pen against your notebook. “It’s recycled air, bad lighting, and overpriced muffins.”
You swatted his hand away, but you were smiling now.
Soobin snorted quietly from the other side of the room.
You and Beomgyu had been dancing around something fragile for days — not quite friends, not quite coworkers, not quite anything. Just… orbiting. Close enough to feel it. Careful not to name it.
But something about being stranded like this loosened the edges.
“Let me guess,” Beomgyu said after a pause. “You’re the type who packs her entire toolkit in her carry-on just in case.”
You shrugged. “Have you seen how often your mic straps snap?”
“So you admit you care.”
You shot him a look.
He grinned. “Kidding. Mostly.”
He leaned back again, this time resting his head against the window.
“I don’t think I could do what you do,” he said, quieter now. “Be around people all the time but never part of it. Always the background.”
You stared at him. “Who said I’m not part of it?”
He tilted his head, surprised by your tone.
“I watch every take,” you said. “Every rehearsal. Every call time and every sweat stain and every panic minute before you go onstage. I adjust the straps so they don’t pinch. I pin the sleeves so your hands don’t shake. I notice.”
Beomgyu blinked. Something flickered in his expression.
Then his voice dropped. “Do you notice me?”
You didn’t answer right away.
The moment felt too exposed, like a wire strung too tight between two points.
You closed the notebook. “Of course I do.”
He sat up, eyes still locked on you. But before either of you could speak, Soobin groaned loudly and stretched.
“Can you two not start a romance arc in front of me?” he said. “I’m trying to pretend I’m unconscious.”
You flushed, heat rising in your ears.
Beomgyu just laughed — but it was a quieter, softer thing. Almost embarrassed. Almost proud.
By the time you landed, the tension hadn’t gone away.
It had only deepened.
That night, after check-in, the group split up again. Some went out for food. Others stayed behind. You stayed too — your suitcase still unpacked, your hands still busy, stitching a hem that didn’t actually need fixing.
A knock on your door made you jump.
You weren’t expecting anyone.
Beomgyu stood there in sweats, hair damp from a shower, a bag of snacks in hand.
“I brought peace offerings,” he said. “And by that, I mean seaweed chips.”
You blinked. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Didn’t want you to be alone.”
You let him in.
You didn’t sit beside him on the bed. Not right away. But he didn’t move to leave either.
“Can I ask you something?” he said after a while.
You nodded.
“Do I make this harder for you?”
You hesitated. “Define this.”
“This whole thing. Tour. Work. Me.”
You exhaled. “Not harder. Just… complicated.”
He nodded like he expected that. “I don’t want to make it worse.”
“You’re not,” you said, surprising even yourself.
He looked at you then. Really looked.
There was something quiet in his face — no smirk, no mask. Just honesty.
“Good,” he said. “Because I don’t think I can stop.”
You swallowed.
“Stop what?”
“Wanting to know how you’d look if you weren’t always holding back.”
That was almost too much.
So you turned away.
But he didn’t push.
He just sat there, inches away, seaweed chips unopened.
And for the first time, the silence between you felt safe.
Like maybe, finally, it was okay to stay.
You woke to five missed calls, a half-eaten bag of seaweed chips on your nightstand, and a text from Kai that simply read: “Emergency. Wardrobe. SOS. Bring snacks.”
By the time you reached the venue, chaos had already broken out in the dressing room.
“Why are Taehyun’s pants fused to his leg?” Yeonjun asked, somewhere between horrified and hysterical.
“They’re not fused,” Taehyun said, deadpan. “Just aggressively clingy.”
“It’s static,” you said, dropping your toolbelt onto the counter. “Or a polyester betrayal. Either way, fixable.”
“Is it also fixable that Beomgyu forgot his mic pack again?” Soobin called from the hallway.
Beomgyu appeared in the mirror behind you, half-smirking, holding said mic pack in the air like a prize. “Didn’t forget. Just wanted attention.”
“You always want attention,” Kai said.
Beomgyu pointed at you. “Except from her. She won’t give me any.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Maybe because you keep showing up late, half-dressed, and trying to ‘charm’ your way out of it.”
“Excuse you,” he said, dramatically clutching his heart. “This is natural charisma.”
You shoved a lint roller at his chest. “This is lint. Roll it.”
He took the roller with mock solemnity, but not before brushing your fingers on purpose. You ignored the zing it sent through your arm.
Barely.
An hour later, during the lighting check, you were adjusting backup jackets side stage when Beomgyu appeared beside you again. This time, quieter.
“Hey.”
You turned. “Don’t say you forgot something again.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he held out something small: a single fabric flower, clipped from the busted hem you’d fixed last night.
“I saved it,” he said, awkwardly. “For you.”
You stared.
“I figured you always fix things for us. Thought maybe you should keep something that didn’t need fixing.”
You blinked.
“…That’s actually kind of sweet,” you said.
He grinned, triumphant. “So you do think about me when I’m not in the room.”
“I think about how much you shed glitter,” you muttered.
He stepped closer.
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“You’re impossible.”
“And yet you’re still here.”
You hated how true that was.
“I have a job,” you said.
Beomgyu’s voice lowered. “So do I. Doesn’t mean I don’t want more.”
Your stomach flipped.
And then, without warning, Yeonjun’s voice rang through the speakers.
“Hey! Are we doing the fake kiss rehearsal or not?”
You turned so fast you nearly dropped the flower.
“What kiss rehearsal?”
Beomgyu winced. “Ah. Right. That.”
“You have a kiss in the set now?”
“It’s staged. Yeonjun’s idea. Fan service, he says.”
“With who?”
Beomgyu scratched the back of his neck. “…Taehyun.”
You blinked. “Taehyun?”
“Yeah. It’s more of a near-kiss. Like a tension thing. Nothing real.”
And yet, for reasons you did not care to examine, something in your chest twisted.
Beomgyu noticed. Of course he did.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Totally,” you said, breezing past him. “Why would I care if you fake-kiss Taehyun on stage in front of 30,000 fans?”
He jogged after you. “That’s not what I meant. I just—hey, wait—”
“Shouldn’t you be rehearsing your tension?” you snapped.
He grabbed your hand. Stopped you.
You looked up, breath shallow.
“You’re jealous,” he said, amazed.
You yanked your hand free. “I’m busy.”
“I like you better when you’re honest,” he said, softly.
You glared. “And I like you better when your mic’s working.”
He grinned.
You walked away.
But that flower? It stayed in your pocket the rest of the day.
You should’ve known it was a trap.
When Yeonjun suggested a team dinner — “just the core crew and members, super chill” — you expected chaos. But not this.
“Who booked a restaurant that doesn’t serve carbs?” Soobin muttered, staring at the menu like it personally offended him.
“There’s a quinoa risotto,” Taehyun offered helpfully.
“That’s not food,” Soobin deadpanned. “That’s punishment.”
Beomgyu, seated directly across from you, was already stacking the coaster tower he’d built from drink holders and smugness.
“You okay?” he asked, eyes gleaming. “You look tense. Need to talk about your feelings again?”
“Only if we also talk about your tragic dependency on eyeliner and chaos,” you replied, stabbing a cucumber ribbon like it owed you money.
Kai let out a choked laugh beside you. “They’re flirting again.”
“We’re not flirting,” you and Beomgyu said in unison.
Yeonjun raised his glass. “To denial.”
The server arrived with drinks. Beomgyu immediately swapped his iced tea with yours. You didn’t notice until halfway through the sip.
“Gyu!” you gasped, mouth puckering. “This is—this is some weird floral berry explosion!”
He beamed. “I know. It’s mine. You’re welcome.”
“You did that on purpose.”
“Maybe. Consider it penance for doubting the Taehyun kiss.”
“I didn’t doubt it—”
“Oh, you doubted me.”
“Can you two go outside and resolve your enemies-to-lovers arc like adults?” Taehyun muttered, deadpan.
You ignored him. Or tried to. But Beomgyu was watching you again — not with smugness this time, but something warmer. Softer.
After dinner, the group wandered out into the warm evening air. Someone mentioned dessert. Someone else sprinted after an ice cream truck. Somehow you ended up alone with Beomgyu under a flickering streetlamp just outside the restaurant.
He leaned against the brick wall beside you, a little quieter now.
“You’re not really mad, are you?” he asked.
You sighed. “No. I just… I don’t know what we’re doing.”
He glanced down. “Me either.”
A beat passed.
Then, with a faint smile, he added, “But I know I don’t want it to stop.”
You met his eyes.
It would’ve been so easy — too easy — to kiss him right there.
But instead, you nudged his elbow. “Next time, bring snacks I actually like.”
He grinned. “Next time?”
You didn’t answer.
But when he took your hand, you didn’t pull away.
And when Kai came back, holding a double scoop cone and yelling your names like you’d vanished into an alternate rom-com dimension, Beomgyu laced your fingers tighter.
You walked back with the group, hand in hand, pretending it didn’t mean anything.
But it did.
Of course it did.
You should’ve been used to the noise by now.
Not the crowd noise — that came later. It was the behind-the-scenes chaos that had its own soundscape: the static of headsets, the heavy thunk of rolling crates, the squeak of sneaker soles across slick vinyl floors, and the endless chatter of stylists, assistants, managers, and dancers all trying to do a hundred things at once while pretending they weren’t seconds from collapse.
You’d learned to move through it like a shadow. Clipboard tight to your chest, toolbelt snug, hair pinned back in a style that said, "I haven’t slept in 42 hours, but by god, these epaulettes will be centered."
But today, the air felt heavier. Not in a physical way — the AC was blasting, and Soobin had commandeered a fan and was dramatically swooning in front of it between rehearsals like a distressed Victorian widow. No, it was something quieter. Thicker. Something unspoken curling around your ribs.
It had started when the final dress rehearsal was announced. The run-through before the real thing. The last chance to lock everything in. You’d seen these before. You knew the stakes.
What you didn’t know was that today’s set included a new segment. A dramatic, choreographed number that was part fanservice, part artistic reinterpretation of emotional betrayal. Cue melancholic lighting, slowed beats, and… Beomgyu.
Of course it was Beomgyu.
And of course, someone decided he’d be perfect for the role of tragic romantic lead.
Which, fine. He was expressive. Dynamic. Could turn a hair flip into a Shakespearean monologue.
But it also meant you had to watch him onstage — shirt half-untucked, hair artfully mussed, eyes brimming with what could only be described as weaponized longing — dance his way through a faux love story.
The object of his theatrical angst? Taehyun. Stoic, unbothered Taehyun, who was clearly in it for the clean lines and performance points, not the drama.
You adored Taehyun. He was calm, competent, and had once stitched a ripped jacket backstage with one hand while eating a banana with the other. A king among men.
But in this moment, watching him slow-dance with Beomgyu to a reworked ballad version of their title track while the stage lights cast dramatic shadows over their intertwined silhouettes?
You wanted to fight God. Because deep down a part of you wished it was you with him.
“Uh-oh,” Kai whispered from beside you, where he’d appeared like a well-dressed ghost. “Is that your eye twitching?”
You didn’t blink. “No.”
“Your jaw’s doing the thing again.”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m emotionally invested in your denial,” Kai said cheerfully, passing you a pack of tissues. “In case you need to sob into something other than Beomgyu’s mic pack.”
You elbowed him, but not hard enough to do damage.
Back on stage, Beomgyu and Taehyun separated with a dramatic flourish, hands lingering in the air like their fingers were tied together by invisible threads.
The song ended. The lights dimmed.
Applause erupted from the crew. The director called out something about blocking tweaks. The dancers scattered.
And Beomgyu looked straight at you.
It wasn’t smug. Or cocky. Not even teasing.
It was… careful.
You turned away first.
He found you later near the costume table, rearranging accessories that absolutely did not need rearranging.
"Did I do something wrong?"
You didn’t jump — you were used to him materializing like a caffeinated poltergeist — but your hands did freeze over a stack of cuffs.
You didn’t look at him. "No."
“Then why are you avoiding me like I dropped your sewing kit into a volcano?”
You straightened a necklace clasp. “Dramatic.”
“I learned from the best,” he said. “Seriously though. What is this?”
You didn’t answer.
He waited. Quiet. Patient. A rare and dangerous combination.
Finally, you said, “It looked real.”
Beomgyu blinked. “What did?”
“The routine,” you said, still not meeting his eyes. “The—stage bit. You and Taehyun.”
Silence stretched.
“Ah,” he said finally.
You braced yourself for teasing. For a smirk. For a bad joke about jealousy or fanservice or how you clearly couldn’t resist his stage persona.
But instead, he said — soft and low —
“It wasn’t.”
You looked up.
He was watching you with an intensity that felt like a pressure system all its own. “It was just blocking,” he said. “Direction. Theatrical tension. You know that.”
“I know,” you said.
“But?”
You hesitated.
“But you’ve never looked at me like that.”
He blinked. “Like what?”
“Like you meant it.”
A pause.
Then, quietly: “That’s because I was scared to.”
Your breath caught.
Beomgyu stepped closer, slow and careful, like he was approaching a wild animal or a tightrope. “Do you want me to?”
You couldn’t speak.
So he took one more step. “Because I do,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been trying not to. But you—you make it really hard to keep pretending.”
You opened your mouth. Nothing came out.
His hand lifted — not touching, but close enough that you felt the heat of it. Waiting.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said.
You nodded before you even realized you’d moved.
And then he did.
It wasn’t dramatic. Or messy. Or loud.
It was quiet. Focused. Gentle in a way that made your knees weak.
He tasted like sugar and something you couldn’t name.
When he pulled back, neither of you moved for a long second.
Then, in true Beomgyu fashion, he said, “So… are we dating now or was that just a medically necessary kiss to restart your emotional heart?”
You smacked his arm.
But you were smiling.
You didn’t notice Kai peeking around the curtain with Taehyun behind him, both whispering in scandalized glee.
But you did notice Beomgyu’s hand find yours again before the next cue was called.
You didn’t let go.
Not yet.
You’d made it exactly nine hours post-kiss before spiraling.
Which, all things considered, was a personal best.
It started somewhere between boarding call number four and the gentle chaos of customs, when Beomgyu tossed his hoodie over his head, leaned back against the window of the airport shuttle, and bumped your knee like he’d always been allowed to. Like it hadn’t changed everything.
It wasn’t the bump that did it. Or the soft way he said, "You okay?" when you stopped responding to group chat memes. Or the heat that radiated from where your arms accidentally touched for thirty-two minutes on the ride to the hotel.
No.
It was the silence.
Because Beomgyu wasn’t doing his usual thing. He wasn’t teasing or poking or tossing bottle caps at Yeonjun. He wasn’t filling the empty space with noise like he always did.
He was quiet.
And you didn’t know what that meant.
The hotel was glossy, modern, and smelled faintly of lime-scented wealth. The crew had been booked into two floors of neatly boxed rooms, each with too many throw pillows and not enough storage.
You were halfway through untangling a curling iron cord when your phone buzzed.
[gyu 🧃]: you busy?
You stared.
Then typed, erased, and typed again.
[you]: why?
His reply was immediate.
[gyu 🧃]: come to the roof
[you]: why. again.
[gyu 🧃]: i stole kai’s keycard and snacks
[gyu 🧃]: that felt like a date invitation. it’s not. unless u want it to be. but also it’s chill. very chill. god why am i still typing
You snorted.
Then grabbed your hoodie.
The rooftop wasn’t fancy. Just gravel underfoot, a few benches, and one very committed potted palm. But the view? Unreal.
City lights blinked around you like the whole place was wired to a heartbeat.
Beomgyu was perched on the ledge (unsafe, always), hoodie up, bag of gummy candies half-eaten beside him. He held one out without looking as you walked over.
“You didn’t respond,” he said casually.
“I brought judgment instead of RSVP.”
He grinned, still watching the skyline. “I accept. But only if you eat this hideous neon worm I sacrificed for you.”
You sat beside him. Took the candy.
Silence again.
But this one felt different. Not loaded. Not heavy.
Just full.
“You okay?” he asked, voice quieter.
You nodded. “Are you?”
He thought about it. “I think so.”
A beat.
“Earlier…” he started.
You looked at him.
He didn’t finish the sentence. Just rubbed the back of his neck. “Was it a mistake?”
You blinked. “The kiss?”
He nodded.
You didn’t answer right away.
Because the truth was, you didn’t know. You’d spent the last nine hours feeling like your body had been rewired. Like every inch of you was humming, overstimulated and underprepared.
But also?
You’d wanted it.
Still did.
“No,” you said finally. “It wasn’t.”
Beomgyu exhaled.
“Okay. Cool. I just—” He fidgeted. “I don’t want to ruin this.”
“This?”
He glanced at you. “Whatever we’re doing. The us part. You’re kind of… important.”
You didn’t look away.
“Then maybe don’t kiss me and panic after.”
He groaned, flopping backward dramatically onto the bench. “I wasn’t panicking! I was just—processing. Internally. With anxiety.”
You smirked.
“Fine,” he mumbled. “Mini panic.”
You let the silence sit again.
Then: “Do you want there to be an us?”
He sat up slowly.
“Yeah,” he said. “But I don’t want it to be a secret. Or a side thing. I don’t want to pretend it doesn’t matter.”
Your throat felt thick.
“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted.
“Same,” he said. “But I want to learn.”
You didn’t kiss him again.
Not up there.
But when he took your hand, you laced your fingers through his.
And when he leaned his head on your shoulder, you didn’t move.
You stayed.
Even when the rooftop wind kicked up.
Even when someone — probably Yeonjun — shouted from a lower window, “USE PROTECTION, YOU LOSERS!”
Beomgyu flipped him off without lifting his head.
You laughed so hard you almost dropped the gummies.
The next morning, something changed.
Not in a bad way.
Just in a way that made it real.
Beomgyu walked into the dressing room like usual. Hoodie half-zipped, lollipop in his mouth, energy turned to eleven. But when he saw you, he didn’t joke. Didn’t flirt.
He just smiled.
Soft. Easy. Private.
You smiled back.
And the rest of the team? They noticed.
“Oh my god,” Kai whispered, poking Taehyun. “Did you see that? That was a couple smile. That was a ‘we held hands on a rooftop’ smile.”
“I hate it,” Taehyun deadpanned. “I support it. But I hate it.”
You pretended not to hear them.
Beomgyu didn’t.
But instead of engaging, he walked over, took the lint roller from your hand, and said, “You missed a spot.”
He rolled your arm with exaggerated precision.
You blinked at him.
“…My outfit isn’t even fuzzy.”
He grinned. “Just making sure you’re taken care of.”
You blushed.
Kai audibly squealed.
Taehyun left the room.
And for the first time, in the middle of all that chaos — the hum, the rush, the blinding momentum of tour life — you let yourself hope.
Maybe this wasn’t just a detour.
Maybe it was something worth arriving at.
It unraveled fast.
Not like a dramatic fall-out or cinematic heartbreak. More like a slow unpicking — thread by thread — of something that had only just started to feel real.
You weren’t sure when the shift happened. Maybe during a post-show dinner you weren’t invited to. Maybe the morning after, when Beomgyu barely looked at you during fittings. Maybe it was when he said “thanks” instead of “looks good” and left before you finished adjusting the hem.
But it happened.
And it hurt.
You told yourself it was stress. Tour burnout. A blip. Everyone was exhausted. So were you.
But when the group sat clustered in the corner of the arena lounge — laughing, shouting over bubble tea orders — and Beomgyu didn’t save you a seat, something in your chest twisted too sharply to ignore.
So you found an excuse. Disappeared backstage. Blamed inventory.
Didn’t cry.
Didn’t even really breathe.
The real blow landed two days later.
You were sorting accessories by light temp in the greenroom when Yeonjun walked in, sipping a smoothie with the chaos of someone who had never once quietly entered a room.
“Did you hear?” he asked.
You didn’t look up. “Hear what?”
He plopped into a chair. “Beomgyu’s solo got pulled. They're subbing in the unit stage instead.”
You froze. “What?”
“Yeah. Company said the schedule’s too tight. No time for his acoustic number.”
You stared at the table.
Beomgyu had been planning that stage for months. You’d watched him tweak his own wardrobe, experiment with silhouettes that felt softer, more exposed. Something honest.
“Did he say anything?” you asked.
Yeonjun shrugged. “Not to me. He just… shrugged too, I guess. Said it was fine.”
But it wasn’t fine. You knew it wasn’t.
So you went looking.
Found him alone in the hallway near the loading dock, hoodie up, headphones in. He was pacing like he couldn’t quite stay still.
He rubbed the back of his neck. “It was just one stage.”
“It wasn’t just a stage to you.”
He looked at you. Really looked. And for a second, something cracked.
Then he looked away.
“I didn’t want to make it a thing.”
“You didn’t even give me the chance to care.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” you said, throat tight. “It’s not.”
Silence stretched between you like wire.
Then he said, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
You stared. “What?”
“Us. All of it. The timing’s—bad. Everything’s a mess. And I’m not good at this. At being—close to people. Not when I can’t give them what they need.”
You flinched.
“I didn’t ask you to give me anything.”
“I know,” he said. “That’s the problem.”
You left before he could see your face break.
The week blurred.
You kept working. Kept fixing. Kept pretending it didn’t feel like something precious had been dropped from a great height and left for someone else to sweep up.
Beomgyu didn’t avoid you. Not really. But he didn’t seek you out either.
And every time you passed him in the hallway, something inside you curled smaller.
You stopped staying late.
Stopped checking your phone.
Stopped hoping.
The night of the new unit stage, the crew stood side-stage, watching the boys run through a rehearsal set.
Kai nudged you gently. “You okay?”
You nodded.
He didn’t believe you. But he didn’t press.
Then Beomgyu walked out, laughing at something Yeonjun said, eyes bright under the fluorescents — and didn’t look your way.
That’s when it hit you.
You missed him.
Not the chaos. Not the tension. Not even the rooftop softness.
Just… him.
The version that saw you. Really saw you.
And it made you ache.
So after rehearsal, you found the flower.
The one he gave you backstage. The one you’d tucked in your kit, pressed between two layers of fabric like it was sacred.
You didn’t throw it away.
You didn’t even move it.
You just sat beside it.
And let yourself grieve what it could’ve been.
You thought space would help.
That if you focused on the job — on fittings, schedules, stitching seams too small for anyone to see — the ache would dull. That if you pretended the air between you and Beomgyu hadn’t changed, it might not hurt so much when he didn’t meet your eyes.
It didn’t work.
In fact, the space only made everything louder.
Every time he passed by without a joke. Every time he sat across the room but not next to you. Every time your hands brushed and he didn’t flinch — but didn’t linger either.
You couldn’t ignore it. Not anymore.
Especially not when Soobin pulled you aside before their final stage check.
“Hey,” he said, hesitating by the dressing room door. “I don’t want to meddle, but…”
You looked up. “But?”
He exhaled. “Beomgyu’s been off. More than usual. I think—whatever’s going on between you two? It’s eating at him.”
You blinked. “We’re not—there’s nothing going on.”
Soobin gave you a look. One part exhausted leader, one part big brother. “Right. Well. Maybe someone should tell him that. Or not.”
You didn’t answer.
Because you didn’t know what you wanted anymore.
The call time was early. Too early.
And yet, you were already backstage when the crew arrived.
You couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d say if you saw him again.
But when he walked in, he didn’t look surprised to see you.
He looked tired.
You kept your voice steady. “Your mic strap’s fraying. I need to swap it.”
He nodded.
Silence swelled while you worked. You didn’t dare meet his eyes.
Then, softly:
“Are we okay?”
You froze.
He didn’t look smug. Or defensive. Or anything but painfully, genuinely unsure.
“I don’t know,” you said.
He nodded again, but slower. Like he expected that.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “For what I said. For what I didn’t say. I just—things felt like they were getting out of control. And when stuff gets messy, I get stupid.”
You swallowed. “I’m not asking you to be perfect, Gyu.”
“I know. That’s what makes this worse.”
You finally looked up.
And there it was — the real version of him. Not the performer. Not the flirt. Just the boy with tired eyes who wanted to get it right.
“I liked you better when you annoyed me,” you said.
A tiny smile. “That can still be arranged.”
But it faded just as fast.
“I meant what I said. About not being good at this. At people.”
“I don’t want perfect,” you said again. “I just wanted you to let me in.”
He reached into his hoodie pocket. Pulled something out. Small. Folded.
It was the gum wrapper. The one he’d written on weeks ago.
“I kept this,” he said. “Even when I thought you didn’t care.”
You blinked hard. “I did care.”
“I know,” he said, voice cracking. “That’s why I’m here.”
And for a second, the silence felt like safety again. Not distance.
But the stage manager called five minutes to show, and the moment broke.
Beomgyu stood. “After the set. Can we talk properly?”
You nodded.
And when he walked away, you noticed it:
His mic strap wasn’t frayed anymore.
But the flower was still tucked into his back pocket.
The show burned bright. Louder than the crowd. Bigger than the weight between you.
And when he looked toward your side of the stage before their final bow — eyes searching until they landed on you — you didn’t look away.
The crowd had started to thin, but the adrenaline in the air still crackled like static. You stood in the corridor behind the main stage exit, badge still clipped to your collar, phone in one hand, flower still in your pocket. Waiting.
He was taking too long.
Or maybe you were just impatient.
You were adjusting your toolbelt — for no reason other than something to do — when you heard footsteps. Then his voice.
“Hey.”
You turned. There he was. Sweat dampening the ends of his hair. A towel around his neck. Smile small. Real.
“I said we’d talk,” he said. “I meant it.”
You nodded. “Good. Because I’ve got at least four speeches ready and I’m not sure which one’s gonna come out.”
That startled a laugh out of him. “God, I missed that.”
You both stood there a second too long.
Then you blurted, “You hurt me.”
His face crumpled a little. “I know.”
“I didn’t want anything from you. Not really. I just… I liked being seen. I liked seeing you.”
He looked down. “I got scared. Which is a terrible excuse, but it’s the only honest one I have.”
“You ran.”
“I didn’t want to lose control.”
You blinked. “You never had it, Gyu.”
That pulled a breathy, almost-laugh from him. He looked up again, eyes wide.
“So what now?” he asked.
You stepped in closer. “Now, I ask you something.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
You reached into your pocket. Held up the fabric flower.
“This?” you said. “Was really unfair.”
His brows knit. “Why?”
“Because I kept it. And then I started hoping.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then stepped closer, so close your elbows nearly touched.
“I was hoping too,” he said, voice low. “I still am.”
Then, slowly, carefully, he reached out — not to grab, not to pull — but to press his palm against yours.
You let him.
“I don’t want to mess this up,” he whispered.
“Then don’t,” you said.
And finally — finally — he kissed you.
It wasn’t fireworks. It wasn’t some huge dramatic swell. It was quieter. A soft, unsteady exhale. The kind of kiss that felt like falling back into your own skin.
When you broke apart, he smiled against your forehead.
“I’m really annoying,” he warned.
“You’re also late to fittings, allergic to organization, and probably going to drive me insane.”
“So we’re doing this?”
You leaned up and kissed him again.
“We’re doing this.”
They found you half an hour later sitting backstage, sharing a protein bar and laughing over an old video clip Taehyun sent to the group chat.
Kai just looked at you both, then back at Soobin, and said, “Told you so.”
Soobin sighed. “I was rooting for them before it was cool.”
Yeonjun walked past, dropping a packet of tissues into your lap. “For when he inevitably says something dumb again.”
“Hey!” Beomgyu shouted.
“Think of it as prep,” Yeonjun called.
And you?
You just laughed.
Because for the first time in weeks, everything felt like it was stitched together just right.
No frayed edges.
No missed stitches.
Just two people — trying.
And this time, not pretending it meant nothing.
Encore
You didn’t expect things to shift so fast.
Not in a dramatic, everything’s-changed-now way. Just… ease. Comfort. Like the knot in your chest finally loosened. Like you could breathe without bracing for something to snap.
It was still tour. Still long days, late nights, tangled cords and last-minute changes. Beomgyu was still Beomgyu — chaotic, mildly allergic to call sheets, always armed with a sarcastic comment. But now there was something else beneath it. Something softer.
He lingered in dressing rooms. Waited for you after rehearsals. Texted you photos of busted seams like they were crime scenes. (“Who did this. I just want to talk.”)
He brought you snacks before soundcheck.
He kissed you behind lighting rigs.
You still tried to keep things low-key around the others, but that didn’t stop the teasing.
“Are you two officially annoying yet?” Yeonjun asked one afternoon.
You didn’t answer. But Beomgyu pressed a sticker onto your clipboard — a tiny cartoon sheep wearing sunglasses.
“It’s a yes,” Kai said cheerfully.
Taehyun just nodded. “Called it in week two.”
Soobin groaned. “Just don’t make me watch you share a mic on stage or something. I will leave.”
The last city on the leg was Seoul.
The hometown crowd was loud enough to shake your bones.
Everyone was running on adrenaline and instant noodles. Your checklist had seven highlighted sections, four half-crossed items, and one very aggressive sticky note that just said “FIX KAI’S COLLAR!!!” in all caps.
Beomgyu found you halfway through pre-show chaos and pulled you aside.
“I have a surprise.”
You narrowed your eyes. “If it’s glitter again, I swear—”
“No, listen.” He pulled out his phone. Hit play.
A new track filtered through the tiny speaker. It wasn’t one you recognized — slow, layered, bittersweet.
“I wrote this,” he said. “Well. We all did. But the bridge is mine.”
You looked up. “Why are you showing me this now?”
“Because it’s going on the encore setlist. Tonight. We wanted to end different. Real.”
You swallowed. “It’s beautiful.”
He grinned, sheepish. “It’s about someone. Obviously.”
You didn’t ask who. You didn’t need to.
The final bow felt like a blur — the kind of blur that etched itself into memory anyway. You stood at the wings, arms crossed, heart pounding, as the crowd screamed for one last song.
And then the lights dimmed. And the new track started.
The boys stepped forward in a loose line. No choreo. Just presence. Beomgyu’s voice carried the bridge.
You should care about yourself too.
And when he sang it — low, clear, and soft — he looked at you.
Direct. Steady.
The arena disappeared. You could’ve sworn you forgot what noise even was.
After the show, the chaos reignited. Equipment being hauled, fans screaming from the barricade, staff high-fiving. Someone was crying in the tech booth. You didn’t know who.
Beomgyu found you behind a curtain, arms still full of backup outfits you hadn’t packed yet.
taehyun should really thank his parents for making him look like this, how else is the drunk, pretty girl gonna kidnap him only cause he looks like her deceased cat all alone in front of the bar. the cat distribution system works in mysterious ways.
imagine uncle beomgyu ends up changing eunjae's diaper when he babysitted him lmfao???? and uncle tae holding a cute toddler eunjae and just throwing him up in the air imagine the cute giggles 😭 uncle yeonjun would steal him from his parents and have a cute little ice cream date with uncle kai helping eunjae thats holding a huge ass ice cream walk 😭😭😭
saw this and immediately flew to my computer the second i got home!! i know you wanted cute moments, but i decided that i needed some crack after i went through hell writing angst for both parts of the series. i promise these are still cute, just sprinkled in some comedy into them!
synopsis: soobin's friends get a taste of what being a parent really takes | wc: 3.2k | requested | part of soobin parenthood au
Soobin promised he’d be back in 10 minutes. That he was just going down the road to buy milk from the convenience store. He said it’d be fast.
But now Beomgyu is starting to think he isn’t getting milk and that his best friend is already across town on his way to the airport to hop on the first flight out of the country. It’s been more than 10 minutes since Soobin has left, and Beomgyu is panicking. Why?
Well, because his nephew is screaming his heart out like he’s dying, strapped into the bouncer Yeonjun bought as a gift last month.
“H-Hey Eunjae,” Beomgyu calls from his hiding spot behind the couch. “No more crying, alright? The neighbors might put in a noise complaint!” He tries his best to sound jovial, but this just angers the three month old even more.
Little Eunjae’s face is beet red, his lips contorted into a deep frown as he cries over and over again. “Are you hungry? Wanna eat?” Beomgyu asks, but of course the only answer he gets are screams. He ventures to the kitchen where he finds the prepped bottle Soobin had left on the counter before he left.
He quickly mixes the formula and water, rushing back to the infant. “Here we are!” He sings, placing the nipple into Eunjae’s gaping mouth.
But instead of his ears finally hearing the sweet silence he prayed for, Eunjae continues to scream and cry, throwing his arms around as he pushes the bottle away.
“Come on little dude, I know you’re hungry, just eat-” Beomgyu suddenly chokes. His nose is plugged with a strong, dense, thick, familiar scent: Shit.
“No,” He steps back, dropping the bottle to the ground. “No please! I can’t-” His words are caught in his throat as he begins to choke at the overwhelming smell of poop.
“Help me!” He claws at his throat as he makes his escape outside to the balcony. He inhales the fresh air, gripping the railing for dear life. Inside Eunjae only cries for help.
That had to be it. He had shit himself and was feeling uncomfortable.
“He loves to be clean,” You had joked to Beomgyu the last time he visited. “He always cries when he has a dirty diaper.”
“I can't go back in there, I’ll die!” He tells himself. But Eunjae’s cries were so sad and impatient, his heart couldn't handle it. Plus his ears need a break.
With a sigh, Beomgyu pulls his shirt above his nose and dives back inside. He digs around the kitchen and finds a pair of cleaning gloves and even better a mask. He quickly puts them on, then picks up the diaper bomb he called his nephew from his bouncer.
Beomgyu holds the sobbing Eunjae as far away as he can (not because he doesn’t love him, but because the stench was atrocious) as he speeds to the master bedroom, where the changing station was.
He lays the baby down and mentally prepares himself for the worst. With his gloved hands he undoes Eunjae’s onesie, revealing a diaper so full of shit, it was about to burst at the seams.
“Oh my God,” He whispers to himself. Eunjae seems to have calmed down a bit, recognizing he was about to be cleaned.
Just as he’s about to undo the diaper, Beomgyu has a sudden realization: he doesn’t actually know how to change a diaper.
Every time Soobin or you would change your son, he looked away. Out of respect for Eunjae of course. He might be a baby but hey, balls are balls.
But Eunjae begins to whine again, and Beomgyu is reminded of his mission. So he grabs a wet wipe and carefully pulls back the tabs of the diaper.
The smell intensifies as soon as it’s out in the open. It fills his nose, running through his brain and he swears he can feel it enter his bloodstream.
Beomgyu almost pukes, he can feel it sit in his throat. But he swallows it down and blindly begins to wipe.
He goes through five wipes in three seconds, tossing them in the garbage pail right by the station. He’s practically emptied the entire bag by the time he finishes wiping Eunjae clean.
“Okay, now for a new diaper,” He hypes himself up, walking through the process. It takes him a few seconds to learn how to open the diaper, and even longer to figure out which side is the front.
He’s looking at the two sides, flipping them back and forth when something wets his glove. “Huh?” Beomgyu looks up confused, then horrified.
Eunjae was peeing. Not only that, he was peeing at Beomgyu.
“AHHHHHHH!” Beomgyu screams as he barely dodges the fountain of piss aimed right at his face. He falls to the ground, shielding himself with his hands.
His scream must have scared Eunjae, as he begins to cry again. But Beomgyu cannot offer him any comfort at the moment, as he also cries.
“What the hell happened? I was gone for 20 minutes!” Soobin asks exasperated, confused as to why his son was crying butt naked on the changing table, and even more confused why his best friend was laying on the floor in a fetus position.
“Soobin!” Beomgyu jumps up, clawing at his legs. He’s got actual tears in his eyes. “You said you’d be quick, where were you?!”
“They ran out of milk, so I had to go to the other store a bit farther down,” Soobin explains, pushing him off him, hurrying to put a fresh diaper on his son and soothe his cries.
“What happened? Why is it wet over here? And why are you wearing my gloves?” Soobin questions. Beomgyu mimics the hiccups of Eunjae, who also seems relieved to have his dad back home.
“H-He exploded man! Everywhere! Then he pissed on me and-” Beomgyu looks horrified, tearing up again. Soobin only sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“Promise me you’ll never have kids.”
Taehyun didn’t realize he actually loved children until Soobin and you had Eunjae. It was a new discovery of his, and he loved every moment he got to spend with his nephew.
“He’s getting so big!” He says excitedly, poking at the eight month old little baby sitting on your lap. “The doctor said he’s really healthy compared to other babies his age.” You tell him.
“Ah! He just smiled at me! Oh my gosh,” He tickles Eunjae’s tummy, making the baby boy grin again.
You pet Eunjae’s hair, smiling. “Did Soobin tell you guys? He’s starting to crawl a little! He does this cute little army crawl across the floor,” You inform him.
“Really? He’s growing up so fast,” Taehyun pouts. “Before we know it he’s gonna be a teenager who doesn’t even want to hang out with us anymore,”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “That’s a bit far out, don’t you think?” Taehyun only shrugs, he knew it was far away, yet time was flying by so fast.
“Wanna hold him?” You ask suddenly, and Taehyun immediately nods, sitting beside you on the couch. You pass your son over to him, standing up after.
“Do you mind watching him for a couple of minutes? I’m gonna go fold some laundry really quick and clean the kitchen.” Taehyun nods, not minding at all as you skip down the hall.
Eunjae wobbles around in his lap, tiny head turning around to look everywhere he can. Taehyun giggles to himself, spinning the infant around to face him.
He begins to make funny faces, opening his mouth wide, blowing raspberries, winking at him. Eunjae seems to enjoy it all, only laughing and giggling as Taehyun entertains him.
His little giggle is so cute, it brings pure joy to Taehyun’s heart. He can’t help but try to get the baby to laugh more and more.
Eventually he sets Eunjae down on the carpet, lying on his tummy. “Can you crawl for Uncle Tyun? Please?” He talks to Eunjae as if bartering with him was even an option.
The baby boy instead rolls over and begins to munch at his hands. Taehyun watches him lovingly, just enjoying the moment.
“Is he doing okay?” You ask as you reenter the living room to check on them. “Yep, just chilling,” He gives you a thumbs up, and you head into the kitchen. He hears you begin to wash some dishes as he returns his attention to his nephew.
He begins to tickle Eunjae again, soliciting the cutest little chuckles from him. As the two bond, Taehyun gets an idea.
He stands up, leans over to pick up Eunjae, holding him up to admire him. Then he begins to toss him into the air.
As a kid he remembered how much he loved it when his parents would toss him in the air, the thrill always made him laugh hysterically.
And just like he assumed, Eunjae begins to laugh. His smile wide as he looks at his uncle with pure happiness. Taehyun tosses him up over and over again, shouting as he is also enjoying the view.
“Uh, Taehyun?” You call from the kitchen. “Yeah?” He responds, still throwing and catching Eunjae around.
“You might want to be careful,” You say from the sink, looking over the counter attentively. “Don’t worry! I’m not gonna drop him,” He assures you.
You shake your head. “I know you won’t, but Eunjae-”
Before you can finish your sentence, Eunjae’s laughs are interrupted by the gurgling of vomit shooting out right onto Taehyun’s face.
The half digested milk drenches his hair, skin, and clothes. Taehyun freezes, still holding Eunjae high up.
“Eunjae still has a sensitive stomach, he’s gonna puke if you shake him around.” You finish, face grimacing.
It’s safe to say Taehyun is no longer going to play rough with your son.
“Say bye to Mama and Papa! Uncle Jjunie is gonna steal you forever!” Yeonjun coos as he buckles up an excited Eunjae into his carseat.
“Don’t forget Uncle Hyuka!” Kai grins as he jumps into the backseat, sitting right next to the one year old.
“Drive carefully, and don’t forget the diaper bag,” Soobin hands over the bag to Yeonjun, who places it in the passenger seat.
“We’ll be fine! Right Kai?” His friend nods eagerly as he leans over to rustle Eunjae’s hair. “Mama loves you Eunjae,” You pressed a kiss to his little lips. “Be good to your uncles,” You squish his cheeks.
“Mama bwye!” Eunjae smiles, making you laugh. “Have fun, kiss Papa too!” Soobin begs, and Eunjae leans over, lips puckered to place a kiss on his dad’s cheek.
“Send us photos!” You tell Yeonjun, who salutes obediently before hopping into the driver’s seat and pulling out of the parking garage.
“Ready to go get ice cream Eunjae? Uncle Jjunie’s treat!” He chuckles, peering into his rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of the baby.
“No!” He shouts enthusiastically. Kai laughs and Yeonjun playfully rolls his eyes. Soobin had informed them recently of Eunjae’s new favorite word: No. Even when he meant yes, he said no.
On the drive to the ice cream shop, the two grown men entertain the one year old by singing popular nursery rhymes and pointing out interesting things outside the window.
“Eunjae, do you like Uncle Hyuka?” Kai asks. “No!” Eunjae laughs. Kai dramatically falls to the other side of the car, holding his heart tenderly. He pretends to cry in order to gain some sympathy from the toddler, but Eunjae just laughs harder.
“What about Uncle Jjunie? Do you like Uncle Jjunie?” Yeonjun asks curiously. Eunjae looks at him through the mirror, smiling cutely. “No!”
Yeonjun pouts, just as he parks the car. “Why? Uncle Jjunie and Uncle Hyuka are taking you to get ice cream,” He tries to reason with the baby.
“No!” Eunjae giggles, kicking his feet excitedly. “Do you like Papa and Mama?” Kai questions. “No,” Eunjae says, but he nods his head. It was obvious he was just saying the word No for fun.
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” Yeonjun unbuckles his seatbelt. “No, no!” Eunjae cheers, gesturing for Kai to help him out of his carseat.
On the street, they each hold one of Eunjae’s hands, bending over to accommodate for his height.
“Why did we go all the way downtown for this ice cream shop again? There’s one right by the apartment,” Kai frowns as he struggles to slow down for Eunjae’s careful steps.
“Bro, are you D-U-M-B?!” Yeonjun scowls at him. Kai pauses. “You can say the word, he’s only one,”
“And when he repeats all the S-H-I-T we say to his parents, it’s gonna be us getting our A-S-S-E-S beat,” Yeonjun reminds him.
“But have you not noticed? Girls love kids. Last week Soobin and I went to get lunch together with Eunjae, when Soobin went to the bathroom, five different girls came up to me and gave me their numbers!” Yeonjun brags.
Kai looks suspicious. “Are you sure they weren’t just looking for a babysitting job?” Yeonjun waves him off. “No way, you just had to be there.”
Just then, two women passing by stop to wave at Eunjae. “Oh my gosh! He’s so cute!” He stares at them shyly. “He is, isn’t he?” Kai smiles. “Is he yours? You are such a good dad!” One of them suddenly compliments.
“Oh-” “And so handsome! You’re handsome like your daddy,” The other woman kneels down closer to Eunjae. Kai looks flustered. “Um, actually-”
“Actually he’s mine, thank you so much.” Yeonjun smirks, running a hand through his hair.
“How cute!” The first one giggles, standing up again. “Thank you, you could say we’re practically twins,” Yeonjun lies, picking up Eunjae as if to show off the nonexistent resemblance.
“I’m Yeonjun by the way. We were just about to get some ice cream. Did you want to join us?” He asks smoothly.
“Aww! I’m Jisu. This is my friend Yuna.” The first one introduces them. “That sounds like fun, I think we've got a couple of minutes to spare,” Yuna nods, letting the men lead the girls inside.
“I’m Kai, this little guy’s uncle,” Kai winks, making Yuna giggle. They find a free booth, Eunjae is so excited he can’t sit still as he is placed between Jisu and Yeonjun.
“Kai, go order for us,” Yeonjun forces the younger man to the register. Kai tries to hide his annoyance, listening well and leaving the two alone with Eunjae.
“So, are you guys just hanging out with this cutie today?” Yuna asks, politely asking Eunjae for a high five from across the table.
“Yeah, you know, it’s hard being a single dad, but Kai helps me out every once in a while,” Yeonjun lies, pretending to sigh.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know his mom wasn’t in the picture.” Jisu apologizes. “You’re alright. This little guy is the light of my life,” Yeonjun brushes Eunjae’s hair.
“Mama no?” He looks up at Yeonjun confused. “Yeah, no Mama, isn’t that right Eunjae?” Yeonjun pouts.
Jisu frowns, patting Eunjae’s head softly. “But you love your dad, right?” She asks, pointing to Yeonjun.
Eunjae looks at Yeonjun, then back to Jisu. “No!” He shouts. Jisu looks stunned. “Haha! He’s in this weird phase where he says no to everything,” Yeonjun quickly explains.
“Oh, okay-” “No! No Papa!” Eunjae stands up, getting upset. “Papa no!” He shakes his head. Yeonjun laughs nervously.
“What’re you doing son? Be nice, the pretty ladies are watching!” Yeonjun says through his teeth. “No! No! No!” Eunjae stops his little feet. Jisu is no longer smiling, eyeing Yeonjun suspiciously.
“What’s going on?” Kai asks, walking back notably empty handed. “Where’s the ice cream?!” Yeonjun asks, trying to calm an angry Eunjae. “They said they could bring it to our table,” Kai answers, attempting to sit beside Yuna. She glares at him.
“No Papa! No!” Eunjae begins to push Yeonjun away, tearing up. “Hold on,” Jisu speaks up. “Eunjae, is this your daddy?” She points to Yeonjun, who is silently praying Eunjae says yes, he’d even take a nod.
“No! Papa no!” Eunjae furiously shakes his head. He suddenly begins to cry, the entire store is staring at them.
“Shh! Eunjae shh!” Kai begins to panic. “You guys aren’t his family, aren’t you?” Yuna asks, getting up from the table. “No we are- I mean not actually- but his parents let us-”
“Oh my God, you guys kidnapped this poor boy!” Jisu gasps, grabbing Eunjae and picking him protectively.
“No we didn’t! We’re his uncles! Right, Eunjae?” Yeonjun drops the facade in order to save face. Both he and Kai look at the boy, begging for him to help.
“Eunjae,” Yuna speaks softly, wiping Eunjae’s tears. “Do you know these guys? Are they your uncles?”
Please Eunjae! Tell her the truth! Yeonjun is praying while Kai tries to make himself look as non threatening as possible, putting on a big smile.
Eunjae stares for a few seconds, his eyes scanning over his desperate uncles who were painfully single, and turns back to the two women.
“No!”
“Hello?”
“Soobin! Thank God you answered.” Yeonjun gasps.
“Yeonjun? What’s going on, are you guys coming home soon? Y/n and I are kind of worried, you and Kai haven’t been answering our texts.”
“Uh, about that,” Yeonjun laughs awkwardly. “Do you actually think you can pick us up? I don’t have my phone” He hears Soobin stand through the line. “Why? What happened? Is Eunjae okay?”
“Yeah! Yeah he’s fine. I think he misses you guys.” Yeonjun assures him. “But uh, do you think you could hurry up?”
“What’s wrong? Where are they? Is Eunjae there?” Yeonjun hears you ask in the distance. You sound just as, if not more, worried than Soobin.
“Where are you guys?” Soobin asks, he sounds like he’s putting on his shoes. Yeonjun gulps. “Uh, not too far,” He struggles to speak. He’s more scared of Soobin than of where he was right now.
“Yeonjun,” Soobin’s voice goes cold. “Where the hell are you guys and where is my son??”
“Eunjae is fine! I promise!” The older man’s promise does nothing to ease the tension. “Tell me right now!” Soobin shouts through the phone. “Fine! Fine,” Yeonjun groans.
“We’re… at the police station downtown,” Yeonjun confesses. He hears you scream in the background.
“The police station?! What the hell Yeonjun?!! I leave you guys with my kid for two hours and-”
“You’ve got one minute left on the phone,” The officer informs Yeonjun. Soobin and you obviously hear, as you start to scream even more now.
“Look! I’ll explain when you get here, but just know Kai and I did nothing wrong! Eunjae wouldn’t listen!” Yeonjun tries to defend himself.
The line goes quiet, and he begins to think that he’s run out of time. That is until Soobin growls into the mic.
“Choi Yeonjun, I’m going to kill both you and Kai when I get there.” The line dies and Yeonjun swallows thickly as he hands the phone back to the officer. “What’d he say? Are they gonna come and save us?” Kai asks innocently.
Yeonjun ignores him and turns around. Sitting at an officer’s desk was a giggling Eunjae, right in between Jisu and Yuna. Yeonjun exhales, then takes a deep breath.
“I swear to God! I’m his uncle! He’s just a baby! No is the only word he knows!” He screams.
synopsis:from the moment you two made eye contact he hasn't been the same. it's like you've got him completely under your spell, not that he was complaining. when he wants to be more than a stranger in your bed you push him further away. choi soobin has what it takes to be your lover and more, he's sure of it. but after all he's done for you, was it worth all the pain and frustration?
word count: 17.3k
warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, intoxication, foul language, stds and other sexual diseases, depression, parenting struggles, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, sex while inebriated, voyeurism, sex while pregnant, oral sex (m&f receiving), and breeding kink
note: tada! the long awaited part two of atilwat has arrived! I'm very happy with how this came out, i've been grueling over this fic forever now and i can confidently say this and atilwat are my magnum opus of 2025!! (also this is not proof read sorry) i hope you guys enjoy it, it's a bit long so take some time to read! also p.s. today is my birthday! i've been trying hard to release this on time, i wanted to celebrate with this lmao. but thank you for all the support an love towards this series, i really appreciate everyone who thugged it out with me bc ngl i was going through it with school and work, which really affected my writing time and abilities. but we made it!! let's go! cheers and happy reading!!
Soobin doesn’t know where he’s going. He’s been driving down various roads for how long now. He just knows he needs to get away from you.
Was he being immature? Rude? Irresponsible? Yes, but so were you.
He’d just confessed his undying love for you, expressing how you mean the world and more to him, and all you did was dismiss him. You lied straight to his face.
While he was usually level-headed, like any normal person he has a breaking point. And today was that day.
Without much of a thought, his feet took him outside and into his car, and Soobin began to drive.
It’s been 20 minutes since he left the apartment. He contemplates turning around.
But as he stops at a red light he closes his eyes and as if it’s been burned into his retinas, he sees your crying face. You’re shaking your head as you refuse to face him.
“No I don’t,” You whisper.
The sound of your voice echoes inside his brain, it's haunting.
The car behind him honks, and Soobin’s eyes shoot open. The light is green now.
He begins driving again, farther and farther away.
Maybe this was for the best, he thinks to himself. He’s been entranced by you the moment you two first locked eyes, this could be him finally waking up from the illusion you presented him.
Another 45 minutes later Soobin pulls into the parking garage of his sister’s apartment complex, putting his car into park and turning off the ignition.
He noticed during his drive that the sky was pitch black, not a single star up above.
Soobin can’t even bring himself to leave the car. He sits in the driver’s seat, quiet and alone. And all he can think about is how you’ve made a permanent home in his heavy heart.
With a sigh, he closes his eyes and leans back into his seat, jaw clenched as he tries to figure out where it all went wrong.
Wedding bells.
That's the first thing Soobin hears when you two make eye contact for the first time. They’re loud, rattling his brain. Or maybe that was just the music blasting from the speaker right by his ears.
He’s currently forced up against the wall of some random’s living room, gripping his red solo cup of Sprite for dear life, all alone.
Yeonjun has ditched him to lock himself in a vacant room with a girl he just met. Taehyun and Beomgyu are stoned out on the balcony, and Kai’s thighs are currently a comfy seat for a pretty little freshman with bleach blonde hair.
And Soobin was pulled into this mess to be the designated driver.
He’s in an uninteresting conversation with a couple of classmates he kinda knew when his eyes linger to observe the crowd.
He’s taller than 98% of the people here, (the other 2% were getting their dicks wet) so it immediately catches his eyes when he notices someone the same height as him, maybe even taller.
It takes him a second but he realizes you’re in fact not taller than him, but instead you’re sitting on the kitchen counter surrounded by friends.
Your side profile seems to glow as you’re turned away from the yellow ray of the ceiling light of the kitchen. You’re in nothing but a short denim skirt and a floral hand tied halter top. Your hair flows down your back in waves as you tuck a lock behind your ear.
He’s so busy admiring you, he doesn’t realize you’ve turned away from your conversation with your friends and caught him in the act.
Your eyes are intense, even in the dimly lit room. It’s like you can read his thoughts, his soul, his desires. Pair that with your plump and juicy lips seducing him, your messy hair framing your face.
One look from you and Soobin is sold.
He feels his heart begin to race, his cheeks heating up it’s almost painful. His hands are sweaty and his throat closes up. He has to look away, but his eyes find their way back to you.
You’re unmoving, gaze trained on him like a lioness on a hunt for her prey.
Soobin chugs his soda, and for the sake of his life he excuses himself from his acquaintances, and hurriedly rushes down the hall to the bathroom.
After forcing a couple out, he leans against the bathroom counter with his head in his hands. There’s only one thing on his mind and it’s shaped identically to you, the mysterious girl sitting on the kitchen counter.
Soobin looks at himself in the mirror, yet he can’t since it’s covered in watermarks and slightly scratched in the center. But he looks at his reflection regardless, trying to control himself. Even he’s never seen himself look this… disturbed. With a sigh and scratch of the head, he stands back up.
Was there such a thing as love at first sight?
The look of fear, confusion, and surprise is apparent on your face as you wake up. Soobin didn’t expect you to remember last night, mainly because he had little memory of the events that led to this moment as well. But seeing your expression harden at the sight of him had his stomach turning in unpleasant ways.
He can’t seem to pinpoint the reason for your reaction though. Maybe it’s because you were hungover, maybe you didn’t want him here, or maybe it’s because you’ve caught him in the act of trying to leave. He’d already slipped on his shirt.
You suddenly begin to cough and turn away, trying to get your throat under control.
He doesn’t know why, but Soobin waits for you to stop, there’s an inkling of worry building inside him as your coughs begin to subside.
“Fuck, my throat is so dry,” You croak, voice crackly as you were fresh from sleep. Soobin’s head swivels away before you turn back around, unable to even look in your general direction.
He reaches over and picks up his pants from the floor and quickly pulls them on. He glances at you, your attention is now on your blankets as you rub the sleep from your eyes.
“I-I’m sorry,” He sputters out, unaware he’s even apologized until you look up at him in surprise. You blink, likely processing this information.
“Why?” You ask him. You’re hugging your blanket protectively against your chest, your hair is sticking out in random directions, and you still have remnants of last night’s makeup on your face.
Despite all of this, your eyes still hold the same intensity from last night. Pair that with the warm bright sun peeking through your window and the softness of your sheets. It’s a view that Soobin never imagined he’d witness, a juxtaposition to yesterday’s setting, yet his heartbeat speeds up nonetheless.
“For what happened. It’s a little weird, don’t you think?” Soobin shuffles in his place. He stuffs his hands into his pockets as you both are stuck in silence. He waits for your answer patiently.
You suddenly scoff, a smirk lacing your lips as you run a hand through your messy hair. “Is this your way of telling me you gave me something?”
Just like that, Soobin's calm facade crumbles. “No! Oh God, no!” He immediately shakes his head, like an excited dog’s tail. Is that what he made it seem like?! Soobin was clean- he was sure of it. He wasn’t the type to sleep around, and he went to every yearly check up-
Your laughter has him quickly realizing this was a joke.
“I’m joking,” You chuckle, lips curved up in a smile. Soobin sighs, his stress levels lowering. As you giggle to yourself, Soobin quietly watches as he finishes pulling on his socks. You have a pretty smile, and an even prettier laugh.
You look up at him again from your spot on the bed, and Soobin swears his heart skips a beat, a single smile from you could heal all of his problems.
“Don’t take what happened last night too seriously, it’s not like we’re dating or anything.”
Those words specifically have Soobin’s fantasy disappearing faster than a plume of smoke.
The air suddenly grows stiff and stale, it’s like time has suddenly stopped and trapped him inside of your room.
He’s ashamed to have even thought he had a chance with someone like you. Of course, he was nothing but a good fuck to have around. You could have anyone, you’d probably pick someone more entertaining and social than himself. To you, this was simple fun.
So Soobin just nods, grabbing his wallet and keys off the floor and excuses himself.
“Wait, you slept with L/n Y/n?!” Beomgyu sounds flabbergasted as Soobin takes a giant bite of his pizza. He nods innocently as he chews.
His friends all look at one another. It was rare for Soobin to have romantic feelings for someone, even rarer for him to date, but to sleep with a complete stranger? That was practically unheard of.
“Was she good?” Taehyun asks shamelessly, he leans over the table, wanting to hear every detail. Soobin shrugs. “No idea, I can’t remember a thing.” His friends groan, disappointed and annoyed.
“Then how do you know you guys even slept together?” Beomgyu argues, stealing some of Yeonjun’s french fries. “I mean I woke up in her bed, bare ass naked, I’m pretty sure we fucked.” Soobin scoffs before he takes a sip of his soda.
“Or! You two went to sleep and later got really hot so you both stripped and slept naked?” Kai suggested. “Yeah, like that’d be possible.” Yeonjun chews with his mouth open.
Soobin rolls his eyes. “Can we stop talking about this? It was a one time thing, she made that very clear.” He sounds almost sulky as he says this, taking another bite.
His friends shrug and change the subject back to their original topic: how Beomgyu ended up almost getting arrested last night.
Soobin wasn’t exactly following along with his best friend’s grandiose story. If he was being honest, he didn’t know your name until today. His friends had obviously figured out Soobin had ditched his position as DD that night, but had no idea as to why.
When he revealed the reason, all he had to do was describe you for the boys to immediately know who you were.
Apparently you were one of the best friends of Yu Jimin, Lee Heeseung’s ex and current girlfriend to Shin Ryujin. You didn’t necessarily have a reputation, but you were known to have a big personality and lots of friends, aka the exact opposite of him. You would never in a million chances hang out with someone the likes of Soobin.
As he’s lost in thought mindlessly eating, he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He pulls it out to see an unknown number calling. He reads over the contact, it seems familiar.
“Who is it?” Kai asks. Soobin shrugs, answering it. “Hello?” He clears his throat.
“Hey, is this Soobin’s number?”
The sound of your voice has him standing straight up at the table, knocking his chair over in the process. It’s so abrupt he causes Yeonjun to jump in his seat.
“Y-Yes, yeah this is him,” He prays he doesn’t sound stupid. You're quiet on the other line, as if you’re thinking. He hears you hum, there’s some shuffling.
“It’s Y/n. Do you think you could spare me a minute?”
Soobin could spare you more than a minute. He could spare you an hour, a day, a week, the rest of his life if you wanted. Of course if it meant he got to see you like this.
Your tight little crop top is now pulled up over your breasts, your panties pushed to the side as Soobin’s raw cock slips in and out of your heat like a mad man. You lay underneath him with your legs wide open, moaning as you grip his sheets, eyes fully rolled back.
What started as a simple conversation about last week ended with you both fucking like two dogs in heat.
“Harder,” You moan, eyes blown out as you selfishly cry for a release. Soobin does as he’s told, because right now with the way you look under him, he’d be a fool to not listen.
“Kiss me.” You order again, and Soobin dives in, snatching your lips in a tantalizing sloppy kiss. You’re so soft, warm and inviting, he can’t resist you at all. It’s like he’s been put under a spell the second you entered his life.
He feels you clenching around him and Soobin lets out a whine, how the hell did he spend an entire night with you and now he can’t even last 10 minutes?!
He doesn’t get the chance to figure out the answer, because you suddenly push him away.
Immediately Soobin begins to panic.
“W-What- Why’re you-” He’s cut off when you push him against the mattress, your hands dance their way to his hard yearning dick, and you begin to tease him.
“How does a quiet guy like you have such a big fucking cock?” You mutter as you begin to pepper kisses across his face. Your question has Soobin feeling both embarrassed and proud. He thought he was pretty average.
“I- didn’t know- ah!” Soobin gasps when you delicately run a finger over his tip. The feeling of you leaning over him, your chest pressed against his, your legs tangled together, and your soft gentle hands rubbing his hard on, Soobin can’t think straight.
You distract him even further by littering his neck with hickeys, earning more and more soft whimpers from him.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Soobin grunts, eyes closed shut as you jerk him off. His announcement has you sitting up again, your hand moving faster and faster.
“Cum for me baby,” You urged, your voice so sweet and alluring. He feels you kiss his tip and that completely sends him over the edge.
Soobin can feel his body shake as he cums, he’s out of breath and as he comes down from his high, you’re still sucking his cock.
His chest is rising and falling dramatically as he finally opens his eyes to take a peek at you.
You’re looking up at him with those innocent eyes, tongue tracing the length of his softening dick. You pause and lick your lips, before asking him a simple question.
“My turn?”
Everything about you has Soobin in pure awe. From the gentle curves of your body to the fine details of your soft eyelashes, he observes you as you sleep soundly in his arms.
You two were currently cuddling in his bed, you’re smushed against his side while he cradles you like a doll.
Well, it was more like you passed out from exhaustion after Soobin pounded you for almost 2 hours straight to be exact.
But you look absolutely too adorable right now for Soobin to not admire you. Your little snores make him smile, and the way you fit perfectly into his favorite hoodie has his heart fluttering.
He’s no longer watching TV, but he doesn’t care because he’s already seen the entire series twice now. All of his attention is focused solely on you.
It’s not very often he gets to see you like this.
Usually after spending time together, you had a habit of either leaving as soon as possible or kicking him out. This would mark the first time you ever spent actual time with him.
In a peculiar way, Soobin finds it entertaining to see you act so docile and vulnerable with him. It’s an odd juxtaposition to how you act in bed: bratty and bossy.
You like to be manhandled, but always have something to say to him. Whether it be instructing him how to eat you out, telling him to shut up, and most often, teasing him to the edge, you always knew how to push his buttons.
Soobin is unfortunately a pushover. He lets you do all these things in the hopes of you returning his budding feelings.
Sure during sex he can be dominant if he wants, but really it’s because he knows you want it too. Your eyes are so telling. He can read you like an open book with a single look.
So he also knows that you have no interest in him other than sex.
He hasn’t found the courage to ask you out on a real date yet, and his friends are horrible at convincing him that you’d say yes.
You suddenly sigh and turn to lay on your back, head still tilted in his direction.
Soobin watches you as your breath regulates again, you’re still deep in your sleep. He brushes a stray hair out of your face and decides to get some rest too, finally closing his eyes.
He dreams of you and wakes up hours later to an empty bed and his favorite hoodie missing.
Soobin doesn’t know exactly what entails in being someone’s fuck buddy. His friends have way more experience than him when it comes to doing these kinds of things, but this? No one ever warned him about this.
You assured Soobin that you two wouldn’t get caught, that no one would even know. And of course he listened, he trusted you. But when you pulled aside your bikini bottoms, sitting atop him and his hard cock, Soobin began to realize why you were insistent on doing this.
The thrill of others catching you two in the heat of the moment, it was enough to have him bucking his hips up into your cunt like a madman.
The water in the hot tub was already erupting with bubbles, add splashing of water from you bouncing on his cock and you had created a nasty sea storm.
Your lips are locked onto Soobin’s your hair is wet and stuck to your skin, but neither of you could care less.
Soobin can’t believe it, your pussy was hotter and wetter than the actual jacuzzi, and he might actually lose his mind if you kept teasing him like this.
He can feel your erect nipple piercing through your thin bikini top, pressed against his chest. You’re whining against his mouth as you can’t seem to stop the movement of your hips.
His lips travel down to your exposed neck, and he suddenly decides he must cover you in marks. You’re moaning so loud right into his ear, it’s true music.
“Someone’s gonna hear you,” Soobin murmurs, as if he wasn’t also panting like a dog. “Why, you want them to join?” You laugh as you grind yourself on top of him.
He doesn’t take your joke lightly, grabbing you by the ass cheeks as he slams you down harder onto his cock.
You have to bite your tongue to shut up, your face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure.
“No one gets to see you like this, only want you wet and pretty for me,” He growls into your ear, his jealousy rising at the mere thought of having to share you.
He’d rather consume you whole than even let a sliver of you be taken from him. And you let him devour you with no resistance.
u free tmrw? let’s grab coffee need to talk
Soobin reads your message over and over again as he sits in his car in the parking lot of the cafe you suggested.
He’d arrived a couple of minutes earlier than the time you agreed on, he was so worried that traffic would set him back that he left 15 minutes early.
Luckily for him, there was no traffic, unluckily he didn’t want to seem too desperate so now he’s hiding out in his car.
But right now his heart is racing, his fantasy has turned into a reality. He was finally going on his first date with you. Granted, he didn’t get to ask you out like he’d originally planned, but he didn’t mind when you messaged him first.
As he sits in his car, his attention is stolen by a familiar figure. You’re walking across the street to the cafe, looking gorgeous as ever. You’re in nothing but a simple pair of pants and a hoodie thrown on, your hair is a bit messy from the wind but he thinks you look perfect.
As you disappear from his view as you enter the cafe, Soobin looks down at his own outfit, suddenly feeling overdressed. Would you be able to tell he was excited?
He fiddles with his glasses, cleaning the lenses and adjusting them as they sit on his nose. After a few more minutes of stalling, Soobin takes a deep breath and exits his car.
Maybe you guys could go for a movie after, or maybe visit the river. He wanted to spend as much time with you as he possibly could.
Soobin slows to a stop as he approaches the large glass windows of the cafe to peek at you from outside. You’re sitting at a table tucked in the corner.
Leaning against your seat, you busy yourself by sipping your mug and looking around the cozy interior of the cafe. The warm lighting is so soft against the cold gray sky outside.
Snapping back into reality, Soobin builds the courage to finally walk to the front door. He opens it and steps inside, he’s greeted by the warm air and strong, dense smell of coffee. He barely hears the doorbell ring as he starts making his way towards you, wearing a shy smile and his heart on his sleeve.
Soobin notices your knees are facing the passenger door as he drives you back to your apartment.
Actually, your entire body is leaning away from him, as if trying to jump out of the car as soon as possible.
Soobin holds in a sigh as he tries to focus on the road ahead, but it’s hard when he’s trying not to have a mental breakdown. All because just one hour ago you’d made a confession: you were pregnant with his child.
You’d dropped the bomb at the cafe, successfully crumbling all of Soobin’s expectations.
The music plays softly in the background and fills the void as you two drive in silence. But there’s a lump in Soobin’s throat that is fighting to get out. He wants to say something, needs to.
He promised you he’d be there for you, that he’d be a helping hand. Soobin didn’t need to read your eyes to know you didn’t believe him. And if he were being honest, Soobin wasn’t sure if he could believe himself either.
A baby. His baby.
There was so much that came with bringing life into the world, and as a college student, Soobin wasn’t sure if he was ready for that.
He’s not even sure why he agreed to support you if he were honest. You just looked so scared, so vulnerable, he couldn’t bear to see you so helpless.
You said you would give the baby up for adoption upon giving birth, which meant no real responsibilities for the two of you, but the fear and guilt still weighed in the air.
Your apartment couldn’t arrive fast enough. Soobin slowly pulls into the lot, putting his car in park in an empty space. You quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and jump out of the passenger side before Soobin can even reach for his buckle.
“Wait-” He’s barely able to catch the sleeve in time, forcing you to stop and look back at him.
You two don’t say anything, as if you were scared that speaking would make everything worse. The words pile up in his mouth, Soobin can only stare at you. His hand is shaking as his fingers tightly grip the thick cotton material of your hoodie.
You look panicked. His stomach drops.
“I-I’ll call you, yeah?” He stumbles over his words as he finally lets go of you. His hand falls to your seat. You just nod and your arm resumes your side, you step out of the car.
He watches from the comfort of his car as you hurry inside. You don’t turn around to wave goodbye.
Not that you ever did before.
It takes longer than expected for Soobin to actually call you back, but three weeks later you’re running out of Soobin’s apartment in angry tears.
And he’s stuck standing at the bathroom door holding a bottle of water in shock.
All he’d done was tap you on the shoulder to hand you the water, and you slapped him away before dashing out the front door.
He breaks out of his daze and finally shuffles to the door, its gaping wide open.
Soobin’s apartment building was massive, a total of 15 floors with more than 30 rooms each. You could be anywhere, but he ventures down to the garage anyways.
There he finds you crying to yourself as you sit in your car, all in your lonesome.
He watches from a distance for a while as he contemplates whether or not to go and comfort you. But ultimately he feels guilty, because you wouldn’t be crying if it weren’t for him.
Had you never met Soobin, you might be living an entirely different life right now.
You wouldn’t be experiencing constant nausea and pain. You wouldn’t have moved out of your apartment into his.
You wouldn’t be pregnant.
Soobin swallows thickly and sluggishly makes his way back to the elevator. He rides it all the way back to his floor and he quietly reenters his apartment.
The water bottle sits alone on the kitchen counter unopened. He ignores it and sits on his sofa with his head in his hands. The only thing on Soobin’s mind is you.
What were you thinking right now? How could he comfort you, make you feel better? You’ve suffered so much, the least he could do is make the situation a little more bearable.
As Soobin tries to think of an answer, he soon realizes he doesn’t have one because of one simple reason: He doesn’t actually know you.
He has no idea what you like and dislike, how you think, how you like to be comforted. You’re the idol of his affection, the one person who could make him fall to his knees with a single plea, yet you’re also unfamiliar and unwilling. An extreme case of one-sided love.
He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting here, but eventually there’s a knock at the front door. Soobin is slow to get up and answer it.
You stare up at him with red eyes and pouty lips. Even when you cried you were pretty, it was baffling.
He steps to the side and you come in, your entire demeanor has shifted to someone who is full of shame. It’s heart wrenching to watch.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You cough out, refusing to make eye contact. You’re focused on the floor, shoulders slumped as your hair hides your face from him. Soobin notices the sleeves of your shirt are still stained with your tears.
Instead of accepting your apology with words, Soobin leans down and tilts your head up to look up at him. There’s something about your flushed face and teary eyes that makes him feel territorial.
He enraptures you into a soft kiss, one that quickly evolves into a kiss of sloppy hunger. He pulls you down the hall and into his bedroom, hands slipping underneath your shirt to feel the heat of your skin.
Because Soobin does know one thing about you, and that’s how to make you feel good.
Soobin wakes up to your hair in his face. Your back is pressed against his chest as he has his arms thrown over your figure. His nose is nestled into the crook of your neck, he can hear your gentle snores as he struggles to open his eyes.
He must have not closed his curtains all the way last night, because the morning sun peaks through and shines right into his eye.
WIth a groan, Soobin rolls over and checks the time on his phone. It's 7:37 am. He has a class at 8:10. It takes him 12 minutes to drive to school, 9 on a good day with no traffic. He should probably get out of bed and get dressed so he could leave right about now, but the warm heat of your body underneath his blankets is much too alluring right now.
So instead of getting ready, Soobin decides he can skip a lecture for today and snuggles back into bed with you. He could probably beg Wooyoung later for his notes.
Just as he’s about to fall back asleep you begin to rustle around, conveniently rubbing against him. Your movements actually cause Soobin to hold his breath. His eyes shoot open and he lies beside you frozen.
You calm down and find a comfortable position, but that does nothing for Soobin’s half hard dick poking at your behind.
A part of him wants to wake you up, just so he could indulge in himself, the other knows you’ve also woken up three times in the middle of last night to either pee or puke.
So Soobin decides the best thing to do is to torture himself and stay as still as humanly possible so that you wouldn’t notice, and hopely by the time you wake up for work his morning wood is gone.
But again, things never go as planned.
Soobin is busy trying to distract himself by imagining all of the least attractive things he can think of when he suddenly lets out a strangled moan.
You’re rubbing him. With your hand. You were awake.
“W-Wait,” He hiccups, turning you around so you can face him. You still look sleepy, but you smirk at him nonetheless.
“Should I call out today? Hmm?” You hum, your hand is now fully in his boxers, your thumb running over the head of his cock.
“Fuck yes please,” Soobin exhales as he closes his eyes. He feels you shift, then you tug at the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off.
You sit up and stretch your arms before climbing on top of him, sitting atop his hardening cock. Soobin sucks in a breath, God he loves being engulfed in you.
You rock your hips slowly, finding a comfortable rhythm for this lazy morning. You both don’t bother to fully undress, just enjoying the moment together.
He’s so consumed by his own sensual pleasure, Soobin doesn’t realize you had reached over and grabbed your phone from your nightstand until you start to speak.
“Hi, can I speak to the manager?” You ask, slightly out of breath. You’re still on top of him, hips bobbing up and down as you talk to your management on the phone.
“Yeah, I can’t come in today, feeling sick again.” You moan, one of your hands falling onto Soobin’s chest. His heart is beating rapidly, his lust growing by the second.
Your movements slow, making him frustrated. Your attention should be on him. “-have enough hours to co-over!” You gasp as Soobin lifts you slightly, holding you by the hips so he can take control, thrusting into you hungrily.
“I-I’m fine! Just got a really bad cramp.” You lie, glaring at Soobin. He only scoffs, he knows you like it, you wouldn’t be clenching around him like a vice if you didn’t.
You quickly hang up the phone, tossing it to the side. “You sound so hot when you lie, did you know that?” Soobin teases as he lets you resume control.
“Shut up and fuck me already,” You groan. He smirks, proceeding to flip you over so you lay on your back.
You two share a soft and sweet kiss, tongues meshing together as he slowly fucks himself deeper into your cunt.
“Always so needy,” He jokes, but you don’t hear him, basking in the pleasure.
The blank page on his screen is blinding. His cursor blinks at him, waiting for him to begin typing. But the words never come, because how can Soobin even write an essay when all he can’t think about is this morning.
Just hours ago you and Soobin were sitting in the doctor’s office, getting your first ultrasound. The little pea-sized dot in your tummy was his baby.
“Actually,” Your doctor clears her throat. “You’re just far along enough that we can try and see if we can detect the baby’s heartbeat.”
Soobin’s eyes go wide as she moves the transducer around your gelled belly. He’s laser focused on the screen trying to search for the little blob the doctor referred to as your baby.
“Here we are,” Your doctor hums as she slows to a stop. Soobin holds his breath, he doesn’t realise he’s leaning closer to the screen. The entire room is in complete silence, the anticipation has his stomach twisting.
Then, from the scratchy low quality speaker of the computer screen, out bellows a single thump. And then another. And another. It’s fast yet regular, it feels familiar to Soobin.
“Oh my god,” He whispers, it’s barely audible, but the doctor hears and it makes her chuckle. “Isn’t it unreal?” She asks him, and Soobin can only nod, eyes still stuck on the screen.
He knew you were pregnant, but to hear the baby’s actual heart, it was so- Soobin whips his head around to you.
He doesn’t know what to expect with your reaction, but he never really expected to see you with your eyes closed shut and wearing a frown of discomfort.
And now he’s sitting at his tiny dining room table, trying to focus as he has to write about how minimum wage affects the economic state of the nation and how the problem of poverty can be solved. But how can he when he can’t get the look of pain on your face out of his head?
He’s dazed when you come waltzing in. You changed out of your old outfit into something more comfortable: yoga pants and his sweatshirt.
“I’m going to work, want me to pick up dinner?” You ask, opening the fridge to grab a cup of juice. But Soobin doesn’t answer, his eyes are glazed over. “Soobin?” You ask, still digging through the fridge.
“Soobin, hey!” You snap your fingers in front of his face and he magically comes back to reality.
“Huh? Sorry.” He shakes his head.
“Are you okay?” You ask, looking at him concerned. “Yeah, just tired.” He lies, rubbing the back of his neck. You step back and nod slowly.
“Okay, well did you want me to pick up dinner tonight?” You ask again, and this time he responds.
“Sure, whatever you feel like.” He complies, looking back at his blank screen. You watch him, confused but also curious. He starts to type slowly, but ends up deleting it all. His head ends up in his hands as he struggles to even form a sentence.
“I’m gonna get going, okay? See you later.” You say. Soobin grunts you goodbye, just as you lean over and ruffle his hair. His head shoots up, eyes wide as you giggle to yourself and leave with a mischievous smile.
You shut the front door as you leave and Soobin is left alone, his cursor still blinking against the blank sheet of paper. At this rate he’s never gonna pass his class.
With a sigh he slumps in his seat. He can’t get the image of the ultrasound out of his head.
It’s then that he remembers: the doctor gave you photos of the ultrasound. Last he saw the photos, you were holding them in your hand as he drove you two home. Where did you put it?!
Soobin soon finds himself digging around the bedroom, hoping you hadn’t thrown the photos away or taken them with you. But luckily for him, you’d tucked the strip of photos into the back of your nightstand drawer.
It was slightly bent, but he smoothed it over, his thumb grazing over the familiar little fuzzy white dot in the sea of black.
He makes his way back to the kitchen, holding the photos gently as he sits back down at the table. His document is still blank, but Soobin doesn’t care and he opens a new tab. He begins to type immediately:
What to expect when pregnant?
“So! What was it that you wanted to talk about?”
Soobin finds it hard to breathe at the moment as he squirms in his chair. Sitting across from him, his boss Jung Hoseok smiles unknowingly.
“You know, I’m actually surprised you asked to speak to me personally. You’re a diligent worker Soobin, I’m loving your results.” Hoseok grins as he overlooks a file on his desk. “Keep up the good work and I’m willing to promote you from assistant manager to manager. Maybe even the branch manager!” He chuckles as he tosses the file to the side.
Soobin clears his throat, sitting up straight. “Actually sir, that relates to what-” “Oh come on Soobin! You don’t have to call me that here, we’ve known each other long enough. Call me by my first name.” Hoseok interrupts.
Soobin is sweating. Hoseok’s good mood was making him nervous. “Well, uh, Hoseok. Sir.” His mouth feels numb as he repeats his name, but the other man gets a good laugh out of it.
“I wanted to talk to you about my position actually.” Immediately his boss’ smile falls. The air grows thick and it’s like there’s a loud buzzing noise filling the room.
“What exactly are you telling me Soobin?” Hoseok’s eyes are dark, they scare him. Soobin has to look away, focusing his attention on the wall behind him as he forces the words out of his lips.
“I-I-I’m ex-expecting.” His voice is small, it’s like he’s whimpering. Immediately Soobin’s eyes meet the ground.
For a couple of seconds, no one moves. His head remains slumped, his hands shaking as they rest on his knees. Then his boss adjusts his seat and sighs.
“... Expecting what? Am I missing something here?”
Soobin whips his head up in surprise, he actually raises a brow at Hoseok, looking at him like he’s lost his mind. His boss is equally confused.
“I’m expecting… a baby, Hoseok.” He speaks slowly this time, but by the time he finishes his sentence, Hoseok’s signature smile returns.
“Really?! Oh my, congratulations! And here I thought you were resigning! I would’ve really thrown a fit if you tried leaving haha!” He laughs hysterically, and Soobin finally loosens up.
“Uh, thank you. I just wanted to see if I could request more hours or ask for a promotion of some sort.” Soobin tries to shrug his worries off. “Oh yeah, sure sure. I’ll talk to Seokjin and Yoongi, I’m sure we can figure something out.” Hoseok waves him off.
“Now tell me, when is your baby due? Boy or girl? Do we have any names picked out yet?” Hoseok leaned over his desk as if he wanted to gossip.
If he were being honest, he believed this meeting to go a lot rougher. Hoseok was notorious for being a dedicated and hard worker who pursued professional perfection like a rocket. Soobin half expected to get demoted, or worse, fired.
But there was a spark of excitement in his boss’ eyes that was shocking. It seemed like he had a soft spot for children, lucky for Soobin.
“In August, it’s still too early so we don’t know the gender yet. I’m not sure about any names.” Soobin answers.
“But thank you, really. My partner's been really sick recently. She hasn’t been able to go to school or work much. I don’t want her to worry about our finances right now on top of the baby.” He admits.
Just last week you came home crying angry tears. You confessed your manager decided to reprimand you for all of your call outs by giving your shifts away to other coworkers. “We’ll be okay,” He patted your back as you cried into his shoulder that night. Soobin’s sad attempts to comfort you did nothing to soothe your wails. Hearing your frustrations led him to wanting to do better for you.
Hoseok’s smile softens. “Oh I completely understand. My sister was always tired or in pain when she was pregnant. I tried to be helpful when I visited her. I can’t imagine what your girlfriend is going through.”
Girlfriend. That word makes his cheeks hot.
“Y-Yeah, I really want to relieve her stress in any way I can.” Soobin coughs.
Hoseok suddenly claps his hands. “Well that settles it! I’ll talk to the guys, we’ll get back to you as soon as possible about this.” He smiles as he stands, signaling for Soobin to be on his way as well.
“Thank you sir, I’m really, really grateful.” Soobin tries his best to convey his thanks. “Don’t mention it! Just invite me to the baby shower,” Hoseok winks as he leads Soobin out of his office.
Soobin wasn’t even sure if you wanted a baby shower, given your circumstance, but he nods anyway. “Yes, of course.” He says before turning around to head back to his desk.
“Oh! Soobin!” Hoseok calls out, and he backtracks. “Yes?”
Hoseok pats him on the shoulder. “Don’t forget to talk to HR and apply for paternity leave, you won’t want to miss out on special quality time with your little one.”
You’re so quiet, Soobin has to gently kick your leg to get you to talk.
“S-Sorry! What was the question?” You stutter, laughing at yourself in embarrassment as you try to smile your pain away.
“What are you going to school for my dear?” Soobin’s mom asks you from across the table. She has a sweet smile on her face as she holds her mug of tea.
As you nervously explain your career path to his parents, Soobin watches intently, sitting next to you.
Today was the day he introduced you to his parents. And tell them about your pregnancy.
If anything, Soobin should be the one who is nervous. His stomach feels like it might collapse on itself, and he can’t stand up properly without gripping onto something for stability.
The entire 30 minute drive was so nerve wracking, that Soobin actually had to pull over and calm himself down for 10 minutes.
He shifts in his seat and makes eye contact with you. You give him a sheepish smile which oddly comforts him. He guessed he liked knowing you were also anxious.
“So remind me again how long you guys have been dating? His last girlfriend lasted 5 months,” His dad jokes, laughing loudly.
Soobin cuts in before his parents can say anything else embarrassing. “Since August, so about two months? Almost three.” He lies. You laugh awkwardly as you nod in agreement.
You and Soobin decided it’d be best to let his parents assume you two were dating. That way they’d feel less awkward about the pregnancy, but also so that they wouldn’t react like your parents, whom you’d visited just two weeks.
You two haven’t exactly figured out what to tell his parents after birth, but he assumed you two would decide eventually.
“Oh that’s so nice! I’m so glad Soobin and you are getting along so well.” His mom smiles and stands up. She pinched Soobin’s cheek, making him whine, before walking to the kitchen.
“Now, who’s hungry? I’ve made some mandu-guk, kimchi, and japchae. I also grilled some meat and made spicy pork!”
She sets the plates of food out, everything looks appetizing. But your face contorts at the strong scents, and you quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom.
“Sorry, uh, she really has to pee I guess.” Soobin laughs. His parents stare at him with an unsure expression. “Soobin, you never really bring your girlfriends to visit us. Are you sure this girl is the one? She seems awkward and stiff.” His dad admits.
“I know, just trust me.” He winces. “I mean she barely speaks to us! I don’t know if I can trust my baby with someone who can’t even hold a conversation with your father and I.” His mom sighs.
“She’s just nervous, she’s usually not like this.” Soobin defends you. Hearing his own parents nitpick at you begins to make his blood boil, slowly forgetting his nerves.
“And now she won’t eat your mother’s cooking? Now that’s just plain rude!” His dad exclaims.
Soobin slams a hand on the table, scaring his parents and even himself.
“Sorry sorry, I’m sorry. We wanted to tell you this later, when she’s ready, but I guess we can’t keep hiding it.” Soobin rubs his hands over his face.
“What is it? Soobin?” His mom sounds worried. Fuck. He wishes you were here to help him, but you were probably trying to hide the vomit from your nausea in the bathroom down the hall.
“Don’t tell me you’re in trouble with the law and you’re covering for her.”
“What? No.” Soobin sighs. “Mom, dad. Y/n is pregnant. We’re having a baby.”
The room becomes so silent you can hear the ticking of the clock that hangs in the hallway. And with every tick, Soobin’s heart pounded with fear.
Suddenly he hears a sniffle, and he immediately looks up to find his mom crying. “Mom, please don’t-“
“I’m so happy!” Her voice breaks as her husband leans over to hug her. He gives Soobin the warmest smile. “You’re all grown up, aren’t you?”
Soobin feels his own tears well up in his eyes. He blinks them away, nodding with assurance. “Yeah. I am.”
“You told them?” You step out from the hall looking ashamed and scared. “Mr. and Mrs. Choi, I’m so sorry, I never meant to burden Soobin. I get it if you hate me but please don’t hate him-“
“Y/n, it’s okay.” Soobin smiles at you, and pats your seat for you to sit.
You look confused, almost in denial. “…It’s okay?” You squeak, your eyes looking at him for approval.
“It’s more than okay.” His dad interjects, wiping a tear. “We’re so blessed! Oh my baby is having a baby!” His mother weeps.
You stand still unable to move your eyes from his joyfully woe parents. Soobin has to stand up and guide you back to your seat.
“What’d I tell you? It’s okay.” He whispers into your ear, and you finally relax.
He’s staring. A lot. It’s too obvious for anyone to not notice.
But Soobin can’t find it in him to tear his eyes away from the little stuffed bunny plush stuck in the claw machine. It sat pretty on a little shelf, its light gray fur looked so soft, paired with the plush pink nose, the stuffed animal was unarguably adorable.
Personally, Soobin didn't really care for any plushies. But he knew you did. When you moved in with him, you created a designated spot on the bed for your favorite little bear.
And this stuffed bunny was the perfect companion in Soobin’s eyes. So after staring through the glass for a solid five minutes, he finally fishes out some cash out of his wallet and inserts it into the machine.
It dances alive, corny music playing as lights blinked to the beat. The automated voice instructs him that he has 2 tries to win a prize and cheers him on.
Soobin moves the joy stick around, trying to get the right angles before he hits the button. The claw goes down, and narrowly misses the bunny. He frowns and huffs. This second time he moves the claw a bit to the right. He’s off by a couple centimeters again.
As the claw machine turns off, Soobin quickly pulls out another bill, stuffing it into the machine. It turns on again, repeating the same process. He was determined to win this bunny, even if it meant he’d go broke.
By his 12th try, Soobin is starting to get increasingly frustrated. He’s contemplating sticking his arm through the hole and just snatching the plushy himself.
“Soobin! Dude, we were supposed to meet at the lobby, what the hell?!” Yeonjun shouts as he and the others approach him.
We’re gonna miss our reservation if we don’t leave right now.” Taehyun reminds them. “Okay, just give me a second,” Soobin waves them off as he tries to use his height to see the best angle.
“Okay your second is up, let’s go.” Beomgyu says sarcastically, only to earn a cold glare from Soobin. “Shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”
He presses the button once more, only to fail another time. He lets out a long and tired grunt, closing his eyes. The bright neon colors of the claw machine were starting to burn his retinas.
“What’re you trying to get? Let me try,” Kai suddenly speaks up, wiggling his way to the front. Soobin concedes, allowing Kai to pay for his own turn. “The bunny.” He mumbles. Kai only nods and in three swift moves him aligns the claw perfectly, catching the stuffed animal in one try.
“Damn, that was smooth as hell,” Beomgyu laughs. Kai pretends to tip a hat before handing the prized bunny plush to Soobin. He swipes it, looking more glum than he did before.
“What? I thought you wanted it?” Kai asks as they all begin to make their way to the restaurant they reserved.
“I did. Thanks I guess.” He mutters. Just like he suspected, the plushy was incredibly soft. He hopes you like it.
“I didn’t know you liked plushies too Soobin, when’d you start collecting?” Kai asks enthusiastically. Soobin looks away embarrassed, stuffing a hand into his pocket. “It’s not for me, it’s for Y/n,”
“Bro you are such a simp.” Beomgyu suddenly guffaws. Soobin doesn’t hesitate to punch him in the arm.
“Fuck off,” He growls. “I’m just trying to be nice.”
“You do know you guys aren’t dating, right?” Taehyun asks, and now Soobin is even more ashamed. “I know we’re not.”
An awkward silence fills the group. Soobin knows they’re all staring, exchanging looks as he walks ahead of them.
So instead of talking about his feelings, he looks at the stuffed bunny, petting its soft fur. He wonders what your reaction will be.
Somehow he pulls himself out of his car and into the elevator, going up to the 5th floor. It was late, Dokyung was probably already asleep. His sister and his brother in law might be too. Maybe he should just go back home.
But the thought of facing you again is more painful as time passes.
You and Soobin have been together for 10 months, almost an entire year together, yet you can’t seem to admit you’re in love with him. He’s in denial, he knows you love him.
But what if you really didn’t?
There were multiple times he could point out where you treated him more like a friend or a brother rather than a partner.
You used him constantly, it was painful.
He steps out of the elevator and makes a beeline to his sister’s door. He raises a hand to knock but hesitates.
Was this right? Was it worth it? Was he making a mistake? Soobin cut his sister off after she exposed his ruse, but in the end she had good intentions. He and you were planning on fooling his parents, especially his mother.
His sister might have been harsh and stern to you, but he also knows that she probably had predicted this exact moment would happen. Her words that freezing night in February were colder than the ice, maybe he should have listened.
Soobin’s hand falls to his side, he’s lost all his confidence.
How could he face his sister? After all the mistakes he’s made since then, she’d only make him feel worse by bragging about how she was right. It would grind his already shattered heart.
He should just go home and talk to you-
The door to the apartment swings open suddenly, and Soobin comes face to face with his sister. She looks frazzled, her hair is thrown into a messy ponytail, she’s still in her pajamas, but she has a jacket on top. She wears slippers, her purse lays over her shoulder.
But the second she realizes it’s Soobin standing in front of her, she lets out a giant sigh. “Oh my God.” Her voice is shaky, and she immediately pulls him into a tight hug. She then pulls away to grab him by the cheeks, checking him for any signs for injuries or mess before hugging him again.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” She breaks down, crying into his shoulder. Soobin hugs her back, feeling relief for the first time tonight. But he suddenly pulls away, grabbing his older sister by the shoulders.
“What do you mean you’re glad I’m okay?”
Soobin feels a bit relieved learning you were having a boy. He’s only ever babysat Dokyung a handful of times, and the idea of raising a little girl was frightening to him.
But then he’s reminded that you two were not in fact raising a baby, just growing one.
He didn’t have to worry or think about these things, because they would never come to fruition.
Yet he still fantasizes.
He goes to bed and dreams of taking his son to the park, going shopping together, and playing around the house.
He sees you in every dream too. Sometimes you’re smiling serenely from afar. Others you’re right there next to him, being a mother looks good on you he likes to think.
The only disturbing part of his dreams were the fact that he could never actually see the face of his son. Whether it be blurred or he’d be turning away, it’s as if he can never see his face clearly. It bothered him, he was so curious, what would a baby between you and him look like?
As he turns to your napping figure on the couch. You lay on your side, a throw blanket over your legs as you snore gently. You’re so tired you don’t even realize that the Tv is still on, playing the next episode of the show you were watching.
Soobin quietly pads over to the couch, leaning down to pick up the remote that had fallen to the ground as he turns off the TV.
He kneels beside you, watching as your chest slowly rises and falls in a rhythmic pattern as you sleep. If he could choose, Soobin would hope that your baby boy would look like you more than him.
Sure, he understood he was above average when it came to looks, and he’s sure you’d probably want your son to have his height, but Soobin would feel more satisfied knowing he could look at his own son and see you in him.
You and your soft eyes and pretty smile. Your soothing voice, your healthy hair. Your smooth skin, your wonderful laughter, all of the above he wishes for.
You suddenly sigh and turn over and Soobin leaps back up to pretend he was never there. You don’t wake though, and he calms down.
You look so comfortable, the thought of joining you was enticing. Falling into his urges, Soobin lifts the blanket and scoots you over to make room for him. Even though half of his body is hanging off the couch, he hugs you close and closes his eyes.
Just as he’s about to fall asleep, you wiggle yourself around to face him. Soobin opens an eye to find you yawning as you blink yourself awake.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” He mumbles. You only grunt and nod, snuggling into him. You go back to sleep, and as Soobin holds you in his arms, he can only imagine what it’d be like to nap with not only you, but your son.
To hear the word “Dad” come out of his son’s own lips seems like a dream far away.
“Still haven’t told me what all this is for,” Soobin groans as he fishes his dick out of his pants, unzipping his jeans and letting them fall down to the floor.
You ignore him, pulling away from his kiss to sit on the bed, legs wide open and waiting for him. You’re uncharacteristically sweet today, wearing a soft smile and adoration filling your eyes.
“You’re being really nice today,” He smirks, throwing off his shirt before laying you down on the mattress. “Is it because it happens to be a certain someone’s birthday?” He plays dumb.
“I know another way we can celebrate you if you insist,” You tease, pushing him away, but he playfully yanks you back towards him. “I’d rather not,” He murmurs against your lips, capturing you into a kiss.
Today was Soobin’s birthday, December 5th, and so far he’d argue this was the best birthday he’s had yet.
This morning you snuck out and bought his favorite pastries from the local bakery down the street for breakfast. When he went to class after you sent him off with a sweet smile and a wave.
After acing his last final exam, he went straight to work, where his coworkers gifted him a mini cake and a signed card, and even sang him a cheesy birthday song. As soon as he was off the clock his friends whisked him away to go get dinner and drinks.
But all day you’ve been sending him the most risque texts: of you begging for his cock, a photo of your bare ass, an audio of you moaning his name as you touch yourself, and lastly an old video of yours where he had recorded you in the mirror as you rode him in his desk chair.
Now it’s late at night, he’s slightly drunk, and you’re wearing the prettiest lacy lingerie set he’s ever laid eyes on, with a wet pussy on full display.
“Happy birthday Soobin,” You whisper as if it’s a secret. He thanks you by stuffing you full of his cock.
Outside the snow falls rather hard than delicately, yet it’s still a beautiful scene to watch from the comfort of his bedroom window.
Soobin yawns. It’s late and practically everyone in the house has retired for the night except for you and him.
Both you and Soobin were spending Christmas with his family this year. He’s just finished laying out the little cot on the ground beside his bed for him to sleep tonight, making it as comfortable as he can. His mother had originally been so worried when she found out you two were going to spend the night.
But Soobin assured her he’d be fine sleeping on the floor for one night, it would have to be done because his twin bed would not fit the both of you, nor would the snow let up enough for him to drive you guys back to the apartment.
Feeling more tired by the second, he sits on his old mattress just as you walk into the room.
There’s something that makes Soobin’s stomach flip as he watches you make yourself comfortable in his childhood room.
You’re fresh from the shower, drying your hair with your towel as you wear an old large pair of sweats and a long sleeve. Both of them were his.
“You might want to hurry if you want hot water,” You warn him, standing in front of his mirror. “The water was getting a little cold as I finished.”
Soobin hates cold showers with a passion, but he doesn’t mind suffering from them if it means he gets to see you like this.
So instead of hurrying to the bathroom, he pats the empty space beside him on his old bed for you to sit. You don’t hesitate to plop down next to him, letting him take the towel from your hands as Soobin begins to gently dry your hair for you.
With your back to him, he thinks your eyes are closed, enjoying the quiet serene moment. That is until you speak up.
“So,” You hum. “When were you going to tell me you have a furry fetish?”
Soobin drops the towel. “What?!”
You raise your hand and point across the room. On his wall was a hung poster of his favorite girl group Kara, the members all posing as each one of them is wearing a variant of animal ears and fuzzy matching gloves.
Soobin physically spins you around to face him, you give him a teasing grin. “I don’t- It’s a poster! I got it for free when I was a kid, leave me alone!” He complains as you begin to laugh.
As he pouts, you stand to hang your wet towel on his old desk chair. “I’m just joking with you, I know,” You chuckle and stand between sulky Soobin’s legs to pull him into a hug. He gratefully does so, resting his head atop your tummy. You run a hand through his hair, the other one rubs small circles into his back.
Soobin closes his eyes and sighs. He loved being close with you like this, a fantasy he wishes he could live in forever.
“Your nephew’s really cute,” You say, but it’s so quiet it’s practically a whisper.
Soobin hums in agreement, eyes still closed as he listens intently to the sounds of your womb and growing son. “He’s funny too, kept poking my belly earlier.” You giggle. He feels the baby kick as you laugh.
There’s a new unique sense of comfort and familiarity as you cradle him.
Soobin cracks his eyes open, taking in the scene: the room he grew up in, lit by the dull yellowing light of his lamp. The quiet hum of the A/C unit blowing warm air throughout the house. Your soft skin and the gentle smell of your santal body wash. It all seems too good to be true.
Your right hand moves from his hand down to cup his chin. You gently guide him to face you, peering up at you like a curious puppy. And to him you’re an angel heaven sent.
“Come on, go shower so we can go to bed.” You say delicately, sweeping his bangs out of his eyes.
Soobin frowns, but stands up anyways. He often forgets how much taller he is compared to you. He doesn’t exactly keep a record of it. But he towers over you, your head tilted up to look at him curiously.
His hand comes up to caress your cheek and he leans down to kiss you.
It’s unlike any other kiss you two have shared, where sex is usually involved and made of raw lust. This kiss was innocent, full of endearment and vulnerability. A simple kiss to convey his true feelings.
You kiss him back with the same vehemence and Soobin feels hopeful.
In January you seem happier, even though you spend your days going to work and doing nothing all day. You barely passed this last semester, all thanks to Soobin’s help, but with your pregnancy progressing you decided to take a break and skip out of qthis upcoming term.
Soobin notices your new relaxed state quite quickly.
“Uh, whatcha doing there?” He tries to hold his laughter in as he walks up behind the couch.
You don’t move from your spot, eyes focused on the TV. You spoon yourself another bite of your ice cream, not even paying attention to him. “Eating ice cream,” You say monotonously.
He watches you with amusement, leaning over to observe you closer.
You’re slouched down, a fluffy blanket laid tucked on top of you, and your bowl of Ben & Jerry’s sits not in your lap, but rests right on top of your bulging belly. Your hands rest on your sides when you’re not feeding yourself.
The image of you using your own stomach as your own personal table was incredibly entertaining to Soobin, so much so that he pulls out his phone and snaps a photo.
You hear the click of his camera and actually turn around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and concern. Soobin giggles to himself as he looks at the photo, his hand covering his childlike grin.
“What? Did you take a picture of me? Why?” You ask, holding the bowl in your hand now as you try to lean over to get a look.
Soobin’s laughter slowly dies down, and he ruffles your hair before showing you the photo. You scoff, pouting even as you realize why he’s been giggling at you. “It’s not funny,” You pretend to be upset, but he can see through you.
He hops over the couch to sit next to you, snuggling into your side. “Oh but it is,” He teases. You roll your eyes and sigh, returning your bowl back to its spot on your tummy.
“Want a bite?” You ask, offering him a spoon. He opens his mouth and allows you to feed him. “This is good, holy shit.” He’s astonished, having never actually had a bite of your favorite ice cream.
“I told you!” You laugh. “Want some more?” You spoon him another bite, which he graciously eats.
“As long as you feed me.” He continues to joke. You pretend to scorn him, wagging a finger in his face as if to lecture him.
“You’re playing dirty.” You hum. His grin widens. “I thought you liked me better when I played dirty.” He retaliates, smirking at you.
Instead of fighting back like he thought you would, you sigh and sit up, pushing him off you.
“Come on Soobin, don’t act like you’re my boyfriend, we aren’t dating.” You say in a joking tone as you walk to the kitchen.
He stays stunned on the couch, smile fallen and body limp.
Soobin watches with pure adoration as you are sat on the ground, legs splayed out as his nephew shows you every single one of his toy dinosaurs he has in his room.
Dokyung’s current obsession was dinosaurs, and the young boy was happily yapping to you about the many figures he’d brought from his toy box. You’re sitting beside him, listening to every little thing he has to say, nodding along and even asking questions.
You and Soobin have come to visit his sister and her family, a request from Dokyung after he enjoyed your company at Christmas. You didn’t mind seeing his nephew, as you found him amusing. In fact you liked him a lot.
The two of you are busy reenacting a dino fight when Soobin’s sister taps his shoulder.
“Hey can we talk?” She asks, already leading him to her bedroom. “Uh, what’s up?” He asks nervously, hanging by the door as his sister settles atop her mattress.
“Nothing, just wondering why you never told me you were expecting?” She hides her irritation behind a stiff smile.
Soobin knew this would happen. He’d been anticipating it all day. All week actually. He’s been mentally preparing for this moment that he’s already got his responses memorized.
“It was a surprise, really.” He recites. “Neither of us were really expecting for this to happen.” He shrugs.
“But I want to be there for her, She’s already going through a lot with the changes of her body, it’s the least I could do.” His sister nods as she listens.
“How chivalrous of you.” She chuckles. “But raising a kid is hard, there’s so many things you have to consider before deciding to have a baby.”
“I’m worried Soobin, you’re both so young and still in school. Mom and dad are excited but they aren’t gonna always be able to help. They’re getting old too, you know.”
Soobin feels guilty as his sister speaks. If only she knew what you planned to do after birth, none of these were a concern of yours for that exact reason.
“You’re going to have to make a lot of sacrifices, I know my husband and I did with Dokyung, but we’re grown adults with stable jobs. You and Y/n should have thought about this more.”
Soobin’s heart grows heavier with each word. The concern in his sister’s voice is killing him inside. This woman practically helped raise him. Him and his siblings have a large age gap, his sister being 10 years older than him. She would take Soobin with her on errands, babysit him every summer break, feed him meals when his parents were working late.
Does he have the heart to hide the truth from her?
“Soobin, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, I promise. I just want you to make the right decision. Okay?” She looks at him with earnest eyes and he just nods.
His sister stands, walks over to him and gives him a hug. “You know you can always come to me for help, right? I’m here for you.”
She pulls away and gives him a soft smile. Soobin can’t dare to look at her and lie. So he swallows thickly, lips thin.
“Sis, there’s something I need to tell you.”
The drive to the hospital is unbearingly slow despite the fact that Soobin was driving 20 kms past the speed limit.
“Slow down,” His sister hisses, she’s gripping the door handle stiffly. But Soobin ignores her and speeds up.
In fact, he doesn’t even hear his sister and her warnings of him being pulled over or causing a crash. Instead all he can hear is your name. Over and over and over again, he can hear your name, see your face, feel your touch. It’s fleeting and that scares him.
Upon entering his sister’s apartment, Soobin was quickly informed that you had suddenly gone into labor and could not contact him. You called his mother and let her know that Soobin was missing and that you were going to the hospital. His mother contacted his sister who was just about to go out and search for Soobin, just to find him standing at her doorway.
And now Soobin is zooming to the hospital, his body is moving on his own without any control.
Everything was his fault. He shouldn’t have left, he shouldn’t have yelled at you, he shouldn’t have made you cry. Soobin felt guilty beyond belief. His tears begin to flow, and suddenly he’s blind, he can’t see.
“SOOBIN STOP! BRAKE! BRAKE!!” His sister is slapping his arm as she screams, and he instinctively hits the brakes, stopping centimeters from the car in front of him. The car lurches to a stop. Soobin’s knuckles are white as they are wrapped around the wheel, but they’re shaking.
“Get out.” His sister’s voice is coarse yet quiet. He doesn’t move, still breathing heavy as he tries to calm his heart. “Soobin, get out.” She’s stern this time, unbuckling herself and his own seatbelt. She steps out and runs around the car and opens his door, practically dragging him out of the front seat.
“Go sit in the passenger,” She instructs, and he nervously follows her directions. His sister now sits in the driver’s seat and continues the drive.
Soobin sits lifelessly in the other seat, tears silently flowing down his face as he tries to fight his own emotions before it’s too late.
Soobin looks around the empty apartment. Since you’ve moved in, it feels more like a home now. Before you lived with him, Soobin’s apartment was plain, he only had the necessities, with barely any decor.
But the second you stepped inside you changed everything, with your houseplants, copious amounts of throw blankets and pillows on his couch, and your need for a candle to be found in every room.
He likes how your clothes filled the empty gap in his closet. He likes how your skincare and makeup litter the bathroom counter next to his toothbrush. He likes how you hung up frames and posters on his bare walls.
He likes you. And you like him back too. At least he thought so.
Yesterday was Valentine’s Day.
Soobin bought you flowers, chocolates, reserved your favorite restaurant for dinner, and gifted you the purse you’ve been eyeing online for the past month. He never asked for anything in return, because just being with you was a gift enough for him. He couldn’t care less about gifts, he just loved spending time with you.
But when you saw all of this, all that he did for you, you looked at him confused.
“Thank you, these are beautiful,” You smile as you hold the flowers and glance at the purse.
“But Soobin,” You have to look away as you put the flowers in a vase. “Isn’t Valentine’s Day for couples? We aren’t dating.”
Those words from last night lead him to his question now: What was he to you?
Your actions and words never matched up, and Soobin was constantly filled with confusion.
One day he acts as your boyfriend, your lover, your husband if you will. And the others he was a stranger. You treated him like he was expendable.
You two weren’t a couple, this was something you constantly insisted on, but neither of you can’t seem to pull away from each other no matter how hard you try. This awkward stage of will-you-won’t-you was frustrating to him.
The only thing was that Soobin was a bit of a coward. He’s always struggled to express his true feelings, and with you it’s even harder when he has what feels like his entire life on the line.
Sometimes when he’s alone, his brain reminds him of the consequences of his actions- more like the consequences of his inaction. With his inability to convey to you his own desires, you walk all over him like a rug.
But Soobin knows deep down you do care for him.
He can tell with the way you look at him, how your eyes always soften when he’s in view. You speak to him with such a sweet tone, even when you’re unhappy.
He notices the little things you do, like how you called his mom a week before his birthday to learn how to cook his favorite meal. Or whenever he’d come home late from work you’d stay up to help him get ready for bed.
That time he went out with the guys for Yeonjun’s birthday, and he got so drunk that you had to pick him up from the club. You held his hand the entire drive home and tucked him into bed with a kiss on the forehead and a promise to see him in the morning.
You might not outright say it, but you like Soobin. Your actions scream louder than any word.
He just wants you to be happy, and if that means he has to suck it up and let you ruin him for your own dignity, he’d do it, absolutely.
The sound of the front door opening has him sitting up, his senses high alert. You were finally home.
Yesterday after you had rejected his gifts, you unexpectedly spent the night at Minjeong’s. You claimed it was because she was feeling extra lonely since Valentine’s Day would have been her anniversary with her ex, but Soobin knows better than that.
You open the door and immediately you two make eye contact, faces frozen in fear.
“Hi,” You choke out, hurrying to lock the door and take your shoes off. “Hey,” Soobin stands up, awkwardly stuffing his hands into his pockets.
You purse your lips and drop your bag onto the dining table, almost waiting for him to speak first. He doesn’t want to, but he does.
“How was Minjeong?” He asks, voice dry. “She’s holding up alright,” You clear your throat. He nods though you don’t see as you busy yourself in the kitchen.
“So, um, I was thinking we need-” “Hey Soobin,” You interrupt him. He looks up and sees you staring right back at him.
“I-” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry about how I reacted yesterday, You were just being nice, and I see that now. Thank you, really, for the gifts.” You smile at him, but it’s not genuine.
“It’s nothing,” He lies through his teeth and returns your smile. You sigh and look relieved. As you disappear into the bedroom, Soobin remains standing in the middle of the apartment, just as confused as before.
You’re staring so hard at the couch, Soobin is starting to think you’re trying to mentally set it on fire or something.
“No, it’s too long, and the color is too light and I don’t like the material.” You decide and shake your head. He scoffs, and follows you as you walk down the aisle to the next one.
Currently, he was stuck inside of an Ikea with you, in search of a new couch. And you were taking it very seriously.
The only thing was that his old one was completely fine, it was a little beat up from the last couple of years of wear and tear, but it was still sturdy.
But he needed to get you out of the house, and what better way than making up a fake excuse to go out and furniture shop?
After Seollal at his family’s house, you’ve been depressed, and for good reason. His sister’s forced confession damaged not only his reputation, but your mental health. To Soobin that was not acceptable.
You already struggled with your own family, he’s seen it with his own eyes how broken you become when your parents disowned you.
Not to mention your recent mental breakdown at 2 am. You’d woken up in tears, sobbing so hard he was afraid you’d break.
He refused to see you hurt like that again, so he was going to use everything in his power to make you feel better.
“What about that one?” He drags you to a different showroom, this one was a stark difference from the fake and moody one you two were just at. It’s bright with pops of color coming from the house plants and window drapes.
But you frown, shaking your head as you watch Soobin sit on the neon blue sofa. “No, that thing looks so uncomfortable. And it’s way too small, your legs barely fit.”
Soobin gets up and sighs, following you as you examine each and every showroom with the eyes of a hawk. You guys barely arrived 30 minutes ago, but he was already wanting to go home.
“How about that one? It’s kind of nice.” He suggests, pointing to an earthy green mid century modern sofa.
“The color isn’t cute, I want something practical.” You argue, already onto the next showroom.
He doesn’t even know why he’s trying to help when you already have a vision. But seeing you act all serious has him worked up. He liked it when you were direct and stern, it turned him on.
“Oh what about this! This is cute! And it’ll fit in the living room.” You plot yourself onto a beige loveseat, sinking into the cushions.
“Whatever you want.” He smiles, enjoying your interests. You pat the seat beside you and he sits down, leaning all the way back.
“Not bad, right?” You look at him expectantly. “It’s kind of stiff, but we just have to break it in.”
He turns to you and smiles, you looked like you were actually enjoying yourself for once.
“Come on, let’s go to the next one, maybe we should get a sectional!” You stand up and pull him with you, leading him to another room.
One by one you try out each couch, not fully satisfied.
“This is the last one, “ Soobin warns. “Just sit,” You roll your eyes and the two of you sit side by side. This sofa was dark gray in color, three seats with a chaise lounge included, and extra soft.
“Woah, it’s like sitting in cotton candy.” You sigh. “I don’t want to get up, this is bad.” Soobin nods in agreement. You close your eyes and lean against him.
“I think this is the one. I could nap here all day.” You yawn. “Are you sure it’s not just because you’re tired?” He teases. You pinch his side, making him giggle.
I want this one. Maybe a lighter shade of gray if they have it,” You add. Soobin hums, too lazy to find the tag right at this moment to keep note of which sofa to buy.
Right now, here with you was perfect. Even if you guys were in a crowded furniture store with hundreds of other people who were busy shopping.
He couldn’t care less where you two were, it could be in the middle of nowhere, a haunted house, a busy freeway. Soobin would go anywhere for you.
As long as he’s got you, everything will be okay.
Soobin thought that when you got pregnant, your lust would die down.
It did not. In fact it was amplified.
“We can’t do this here, I’m at work.” He tries to push you off him, but you’re persistent, kissing up and down his neck.
“We’re at a work party, you're off the clock, and no one is here. We’re alone.” You insist, rubbing his hard on through his pants. “You like it don’t you? You like it when I let you fuck me anytime anywhere.” You mock him.
It was true, while he lived the comfort of having sex at home, he can’t forget the adrenaline you give him when you two are out and about.
But fucking inside of conference room where just a few feet away all of his coworkers are socializing and could potentially hear or catch you two? That was a bit terrifying.
“Please? Fuck I’m so horny,” You whine, already unbuttoning his shirt. “You look so good I can’t help it.”
This is news to Soobin. The theme for this year’s annual work celebration was Blast from the Past! so he’d gone and worn a denim on denim look: a denim button up paired with a random tie and jeans. His hair was down and messy, and he’s been eating barbecue chips for the past half hour straight.
“What?” He has to laugh, thinking you’ve gone crazy. But you don’t relent and continuing to unbuckle his pants and shoving your hand down his boxers.
He’s ashamed to admit he’s already half hard the second you pulled him into the empty room. Now your soft hands are massaging his erect cock like it’s your job, kissing up and down his exposed chest.
You’re getting on his nerves. You always act like a brat when he’s under pressure.
So he removes you from him, earning a grin from you as he pushes you against the table, seating you so that your legs are wide open for him.
“You never listen,” He scowls, lifting your dress up and pushing your panties to the side. “I’ll listen now,” You blink up at him innocently. You begin to play with yourself in order to relieve the tension, head rolling back.
Soobin slaps your hand away, grabbing your wrist and pinning you down. “Liar, you always like to test me, don’t you?” He doesn't let you answer as he quickly lines his cock to your seeping hole, sliding in without warning.
You let out a sensual moan, fully laying down on the table now. Your free hand pulls down the top half of your dress to reveal your plump and aching tits. You look like you’re fresh from a painting.
“Why aren’t you moving?” You groan, trying to grind yourself against him. Soobin stands there taking you in with a smirk plastered all over his face. He sees how your face begins to turn red as he refuses to look away from you.
He finally leans down, grabs you by the jaw and whispers, “Always a slut for my cock, aren’t you?”
You gasp and clench around him. He can’t take it anymore. Without warning he begins to thrust into you like a piston, fast, swift and hard. You can’t control your moans, you’re breathing heavily as he holds both of your wrists in one single hand above your head.
The other hand quickly goes to cover your lips. “Be quiet, want someone to find us?” Soobin growls into your ear. He’s barely holding on himself as he mocks you.
“You want my boss to come in here and see you all fucked out on my dick, yeah baby?” He threatens and you can only bite your tongue. “Don’t worry baby, no one but me gets to see you like this,”
“All hot and wet for me and me only, right?” You nod desperately and he removes his hand from your mouth. “You love my cock so much you just had to have my baby, didn’t you?” His hand goes to rub your swollen stomach, before traveling down to your clit.
“F-Fuck!” You squeak out as he simultaneously plays with your clit and pumps you full. “God you’re so fucking tight, I-I’m gonna cum,” His tough act begins to crumble as he struggles to chase his own high.
“Want me to cum in you baby? Or you wanna drink it up like a good girl?” He brushes a lock of hair out of your face, caressing your cheek.
“Don’t pull out I’m so close,” You cry, hands searching for him. You were always pretty, but seeing you beg for him was something else. Soobin can’t help but kiss you, ramming into you with so much intensity and vulgarness he completely forgets where you two are.
You cum in seconds, he follows you with insane speed, the way you convulse around him has him falling through the cracks. You’re both breathless and tired, but your lips stay connected.
Eventually he peels himself off you, pulling his softening dick out of your warmth. Both of you are sticky and wet, sweating like you’ve run a marathon. But his eyes are trained on your pussy as his cum leaks out, thick and white.
Unconsciously he sticks a finger into your sore hole, pushing it back in. You wince, catching your breath. “Soobin-”
He shuts you up by sticking that same finger into your mouth. “I don’t want to waste a drop.”
“Beomgyu! Get your ass over here and help me with this banner!” Jimin orders, she spots Beomgyu hiding behind a tree. The man sulks as he’s been found, trudging over to the canopy.
“I never signed up for this! I just came to drop off the catering” He whines, but Jimin doesn’t care, handing him the banner to hang.
“Can you shut up? At least you’re not lugging around the damn table!” Yeonjun yells. He’s currently dragging the folding table all over the patio area, under orders from Ningning.
“More to the left- no my left! No go back, more to the right now- your right!” She tells him and he obediently listens, though he seems tired.
“Hi! We picked up the cupcakes!” Minjeong sings as she and Aeri arrive, though they’re not carrying a thing. “Uh, where?” Soobin asks, confused.
“Here! We offered to help,” Taehyun announces as he and Kai waltz over to the canopy, carrying the boxes of cupcakes. “Low sugar with whipped cream frosting,” Aeri recites as she and Minjeong begin to organize the food on another table.
“We need chairs! Where are the chairs? Beomgyu you were supposed to bring the chairs!” Jimin glares. “I would grab the chairs, but I’m holding your stupid banner!” He argues.
“Go get the chairs! Ugh, Kai, help me with the banner, you’re taller.” She waves off Beomgyu.
“Well, looks like the baby shower planning is going well,” Soobin jokes as Yeonjun approaches, finally free from Ningning’s grasp.
“What are you doing? Don’t just stand there, do something!” He complains. “Nope, I’m gonna go pick up Y/n’s dress and drop it off, then I’ve got to grab the drinks and ice.” Soobin states.
“Save me!” Beomgyu sobs, only for Jimin to glare at him again. “Hurry up! We need more chairs!”
“Actually, I can grab the dress, Minjeong and I are gonna leave to go do Y/n’s hair and makeup anyways,” Aeri checks the time. “But you can take Beomgyu with you, I think Jimin might burst a vein if she has to be with him for another minute.” Minjeong whispers.
Soobin sends her a thumbs up and pulls his best friend away from starting a spat with Jimin. “Let’s go grab the drinks! We’ll be back.” Soobin waves a goodbye.
“Turn on the A/C, I’m melting,” Beomgyu groans as he jumps into the passenger seat. The cool air hits his face, refreshing the pair.
“So, why are you guys throwing a baby shower again? I thought you guys were gonna chuck the baby or something?” Beomgyu asks. Soobin punches his arm, making him cry.
“We are not chucking the baby, we’re just giving the baby up for adoption for the time being.” He corrects.
Beomgyu looks confused. “For the time being? You mean you plan to get custody later?” Soobin goes quiet.
If he were being honest, he might be a bit attached already to your unborn son. He hasn’t said anything, but he can’t bear to even think about signing the adoption papers.
“No,” He sighs. “I just- I might just ask for full custody if Y/n says no.” He admits. Beomgyu’s eyes bulge out of his head. “So you’re saying you’d become a single dad?!”
Soobin slowly nods. The idea was daunting, but he believes he could do it. He knows his mom will help, they’ve spoken a few times privately since Seollal. He considered moving back home to make his life a bit easier if it came down to it.
“Soobin, you can’t be serious, this isn’t some kind of game you can speedrun. This is a real human being that you’re gonna have to raise for 18 years-” “I know Beomgyu,” Soobin says tensely.
“But you don’t get it.” He clenches his jaw. “You won’t get it until you’re in that room, and the doctor shows you the ultrasound and you get to see your baby grow- did you know you can hear their heartbeat?!” Soobin stops at the red light, looking over his best friend with desperation in his eyes.
“I can’t get the sound out of my head.” He reveals. Beomgyu goes silent.
“And what about Y/n? You said you’d do anything for her, right?”
Soobin continues the drive, eyes trained on the road. “Yeah, but maybe not this time.”
The car is quiet again, the radio so low it’s a whisper. Beomgyu suddenly lets out a howl, his head leaning against the glass window.
“You’re insane,” He mumbles. “But you’re also my best friend. So if you’re really going to go through with this, I’ll be there.”
Soobin smiles. “Thanks Beomgyu, I appreciate it.” The other man just nods, looking out the window.
“Just so you know, I’ll help out but I am not changing any poop diapers. Give those all to Yeonjun.” Soobin begins to laugh, feeling relieved from his friend’s support.
He waits until you’re asleep. Outside on the balcony, the air is cool and there’s a slight breeze. It’s way past midnight and he’s struggling to keep his eyes open as he presses the call button. It rings five times before his mom picks up.
“Hello?” She sounds like he’s just woken up. ‘Hey mom, sorry, did I wake you?” He worries.
“Huh? No, no, I’m fine,” She lies. “How are you? Did you eat today?” She asks. “Yeah, yeah,” He answers.
They go through the formalities, checking on each other’s health, asking about their days and such. But eventually, as the night goes on, the topic changes to something more serious.
“And how is the baby?” Soobin goes stiff. “Fine, the doctor says he’s healthy.” He hears his mom hum on the other line.
Silence.
“Are you still going to give up my grandbaby?”
He hates this question.
“Soobin, are you listening to me?” She repeats and he fights the urge to yawn, losing as he leans against the railing of his balcony. “I’m listening.” He assures her.
His mother sighs, mumbling something under her breath. “You do know what you’re doing right? That baby deserves to be with his dad and mom.”
“No yeah, I know,” He hums. This was the fifth time they’ve had this conversation in the last two months.
“I know that you and Y/n are struggling, but that’s why your father and I are here. We love you Soobin, and we love Y/n too, please don’t do this.”
He closes his eyes, making a face. “Don’t say that.” He urges. “But why? You two are so good together. You love her, why can’t you two make this work for your son? Put your differences aside! Couples have differences and fight all the time, you two need to learn to compromise.”
Maybe it was because it was late and he was extremely tired, or maybe it was because he hated the way his mom talked about his relationship with you like she knew better. But either way Soobin snaps.
“Y/n and I- We- stop acting as if we’re dating mom, you know we aren’t.” He sighs and rubs his face. “You can stop pretending.” The line is quiet, and he wonders if he should just say goodnight and end the call.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something from inside move. “Hold on,” He murmurs. “I think Y/n’s up.” He immediately mutes the call, tip toeing inside. He makes his way to the bedroom, from the door he sees you cuddled up with the blanket. Your back faces him.
“No she’s still asleep,” He says into the phone as he unmutes the call. As he turns to leave, he shuts the door. He doesn’t want you to hear any of this.
“Soobin, I just want what’s best for you,” His mother finally says. “How do you know this is good for me? For all you know, I could be digging my own grave,” He argues, stepping back outside onto the balcony.
He hears his mom shuffle, then hum. “Well, I see how you are with her, and my son, you glow.” His heart aches as he hears her speak with such sincerity. “You look at each other with love, and now you can share that love with your baby. You two just need to sit down and talk.”
“I-”
Soobin sucks in a breath. He can’t speak. He can’t respond, argue. Because he wants his mother to be right, he desperately does. Just the idea of living that fantasy of growing a family with you was enough to bring him to his knees.
He’s tried so hard to get you to like him back, so hard to break down your walls. He just wants to be able to love you openly. No more lies and secrets.
The only thing stopping him is you.
“I’m gonna go to bed mom,” He bites his cheek, holding back. “Okay,” he can hear the tone of his mom. She’s disappointed. He hears that more often these days.
“I’ll talk to you next time, okay?” They bid farewell and instead of going back to bed with you and sleeping his stress away, Soobin goes to the living room and sits on the couch.
The one you picked out and he built.
He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep there until the early morning when the sun blinds him. Quietly he slips back into the bedroom and into the mattress next to you.
Just like last night, your lonely back faces him.
“Y/N!” Soobin bursts into your hospital room looking like he’s run through hell and back. He scares you awake, Beomgyu jumping up from his spot on the waiting chair.
“You made it! Thank God,” Beomgyu looks more relieved than Soobin. “I was starting to get worried, they said I would have to go into the room with her when it was time to push,” He gags. “Thanks,” Soobin pats him on the back as Beomyu slips out of the room as soon as possible.
His attention turns to you.
You’re sitting on the hospital bed, wearing your gown and hair in a mess. Just like him your tears have dried up on your face, leaving streaks.
He hesitates.
His body wants to move, his legs are screaming at him to run to you, pull you into a hug, kiss your face and promise to never leave you alone again.
But his brain stops him. Just hours ago you’d rejected him and broken his heart into a million pieces.
You suddenly start sniffling, and his body reacts automatically, coming to your side. He can’t bring himself to hold you just yet, so he settled by petting your hair as you cry.
“I’m sorry,” He begins to apologize. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I should have- I was being stupid and I-” He shuts up when you lurch forward and hug his waist, sobbing into his shirt.
He finally relaxes and leans over to sit on the edge of the bed, pulling you closer. “I’m an idiot I know,” He murmurs and kisses your head. “Please forgive me,”
You can’t even answer him properly, you're crying so hard your body is shaking violently. So instead he just holds you, holds like you're made of glass until you fall back asleep from the pure exhaustion this entire night has been.
Soobin lays you back down, wiping your tears from your cheeks.
You didn’t deserve him. He was a jerk, and he could never forgive himself for what he’s done to you. He was selfish for trying to force you to pursue him, for feeding into his own desires. If only he could go back in time.
Quietly, he attempts to leave you to rest on the little stiff loveseat by the window. Except the grip tightens around his hand. He looks up to find you awake again.
“You should try to rest, you’ll need the energy.” He tells you, though he doesn’t move.
You shake your head, confusing him. But suddenly you scoot over, and gesture for him to lay with you. Soobin is surprised. After everything tonight, you still want him around.
Feeling guilty, he struggles to squeeze in without hurting you. But once he’s next to you, you snuggle into his side, your head resting on his chest. He holds you dearly, his other hand playing with your fingers as if to distract himself.
“You were right, you know,” You suddenly speak up, breaking the comfortable silence. Soobin quirks an eyebrow, confused on what you were talking about.
You shift so that you could face him.
Even with your tired eyes, tear stained cheeks and pouty lips, your beauty amazes him. He feels lucky just to have made eye contact with you.
“I love you,” You whisper, as if you were scared to speak up. “What?” He mumbles, unable to believe you.
“I love you Soobin,” You repeat. “I… I’ve been lying to myself, to you. I’ve loved you for a long time now. I’m sorry.” You look away, feeling ashamed. Your tears return and he does you a favor by gently guiding you to look at him again.
Delicately, Soobin kisses you. His heart begins to bloom as you two become intertwined. This was all he could ever want, and you’ve finally gifted him his greatest award: your love.
“Do you hate me?” You ask in between kisses. He smirks. “How could I ever hate you baby?” He teases, kissing your salty tears away. “Because I’m such an asshole, and you always treat me so well,” You hiccup.
His lips return to yours as a way to reassure you. “I love you so much. There’s nothing you could do that could make me hate you.”
You shudder under his touch, pulling him by his collar, trying to get closer. Your anguish has him pulling away faster than you or he wants.
“You need to rest,” He insists, despite the fact that he’d rather kiss you for longer. But he can see and tell you’re exhausted. He can sacrifice his affections for the time being.
“Don’t go.” You pout. “I’m not going anywhere, never again.” He promises, fixing the pillows to make the both of you more comfortable.
He watches as you yawn, your sleepiness consuming you. Just before you fall asleep though, he whispers in your ear.
“Can you say it again?”
You glance at him, eyebrows furrowed. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck and sigh. “I love you Soobin,” You mumble into his soft skin.
And his heart soars, he’d been waiting to hear those words all along.
“I spend nine- almost ten months carrying him in my womb, and he comes out looking just like you,” You frown. “It’s like I’ve been scammed.”
“He’s got your uh, your eyebrows I think? Baby it’s okay, look how cute he is,” Soobin giggles as he sits beside your hospital bed, carrying your sleeping son. He’s been in the outside world for a total of three hours, yet he’s the cutest baby ever.
“Eunjae, you’re gonna be handsome just like your daddy, huh?” You lean over to gently boop the baby’s nose.
“Eunjae? When did you pick a name?” Soobin asks, you two had never really talked about names ever. “He picked it himself,” You shrug.
Soobin is even more confused now. “What do you mean he picked it himself, Y/n he’s three hours old.”
Before you can answer, there’s a knock on your door. “Hi mom and dad! How are we doing?” The nurse asks as he comes in holding what seems to be paperwork.
“Good so far.” Soobin answers. “Great! I’ve actually got some documents for you guys to sign, as well as the birth certificate,”
He hands you the papers, and you read over them. As you flip through the documents, you stop at a specific one.
“Um actually, we aren’t going to be needing this one anymore,” You hand the nurse the paper, he reads it over. “Sounds good, I’ll come back later once everything is filled. Let one of us know if you have any questions.” He says as he departs.
“What was it that you gave back?” Soobin asks. You’re already signing some papers as you speak. “The adoption papers.” You don’t look at him, but Soobin is smiling.
You finally look up at him and smile back, this one was real and filled with pure love.
“We can’t give up on this little guy, he’s too adorable,” You coo as you poke your son’s cheek. The baby squirms in his arms before resuming his sleep.
Soobin watches as you fill out the birth certificate, there’s a weird sense of pride he feels as you complete the documents.
“You know I like the name, Eunjae.” He agrees. “Well you better like it, I already wrote it down on the certificate with permanent marker,” You joke, making him chuckle. He leans down and presses a kiss to your temple.
“I love you,” You say. He smiles at you. “You’ve told me that like 150 times since last night.” He pretends to complain.
“And I never get tired of saying it.” You grin, sealing your vow with a kiss. And for Soobin, he never gets tired of hearing those three words, patiently waiting for the next time they slip from your lips.
He’d wait for you tomorrow, the next day, a week from now, a month, a year, a decade, a century and for eternity.
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