I’m always open to requests but will respond if i’m not comfortable writing them. I try to make my content as gender neutral as possible as well. With that being said I’m not familiar with writing from a male readers pov
I do NOT accept requests such as
severe trigger warnings
(ex. self harm, abortion, suicide, eating disorders)
idol x idol smut
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ateez
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txt
&team
But I don’t strictly write for just them! I have other groups I am also familiar with but the list goes on
my personal favorite: shared space
current series: house crush
latest posts: house crush [7]
waited for you - Choi Jongho
en-mart - enhypen smau
shared space- txt smau
quiet- nishimura riki
`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕚𝕟 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´
Quarter Life Crisis - TXT SMAU
summary: the final part and we see where everyone is going
a/n: thank you for all the love i've gotten on this series! this is technically the final part but i have a few other parts i'll post whenever i can :)
masterlist
wc: 2.6k
summary: reader has soobin finally address the elephant in the room
masterlist
a/n: i'm saur sorry if this is bad…i'm not really satisfied with this chapter but i cannot keep rewriting it. also i plan on making a smut out of this chapter so if you want to be included on that taglist just lmk !
The venue is loud. Not louder than any of the dozens of shows you’ve worked before but every sound feels amplified today. Crew members rush past you. Voices are overlapping through your earpiece. The stage lights are being adjusted, flashing new colors every other moment.
And despite the fact that you have approximately twenty different things to focus on, your brain is stuck on exactly one thing.
Baby.
You leaned against the barricade. Your hands on the camera around your neck, your grip tightening every other moment. It takes a second before you remember the main reason you’re there. You lifted the camera, finding a good angle of the guys on stage as you took their pictures. You take a moment as you check the preview. The way Soobin looks and how he’s smiling at something, it made your heart skip.You caught yourself before your thoughts could continue on.
You have to be professional.
No...you can be professional.
You looked back up at the guys. Yeonjun and Beomgyu are tuning their guitars. Kai is looking around for his sticks that have suddenly gone missing, and then there’s Taehyun. He’s clicking a few keys on his keyboard, testing the volume for the amps. You tried to keep your eyes focused on them and away from the main source of that one little word echoing in your head but you betrayed yourself. Soobin was there, oversized hoodie on and joking about something. You tried to avert your gaze but couldn’t as you watched him throw his head back as he laughed at something Beomgyu said.
Your stomach immediately betrayed you at the sight of him. The stupid annoying flip that seems to only exist when Soobin is involved. You've been trying too hard when you acted casual around him. Too worried that others would catch on to the way his heart melts. Unfortunately, you’re surrounded by people who seem determined to make your life harder.
“Are you okay?”
You nearly jump out of your skin hearing the voice. Manager Kim appears beside you like he’s been summoned by your distraction.
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine.” You stutter over your words, eyes finally dragging themselves away from the stage.
Manager Kim studies you for a moment. The look alone is enough to make you straighten. “You finished editing the pre-rehearsal clips?”
Your stomach dropped. “Almost.”
His expression doesn’t change. “Almost?”
“I just need to—”
“The social team wants them before soundcheck.” He cut you off before you can finish.
Right. The clips. The job you’re supposed to be doing.
You glance toward the stage one more time. Unfortunately, Soobin chose that exact moment to look over at you. Your cheeks burned a soft pink at the sudden eye contact.
Manager Kim followed your line of sight, not suspiciously. Just taking inventory of the room the way he always does. Then he looked back at you. “The clips.”
“Right.” You nodded as you looked back at him.
“And the fan content schedule.”
“That’s just on my tablet.” You gesture toward your bag.
“The sponsor photos." He kept listing your tasks off.
You winced, your head tilted down. “Right.”
He paused for a split second. “Do I need to reassign something?”
Your head snapped up. "No." The word comes out sharper than intended, defensive. You hated how transparent you feel, how obvious your distraction must be.
“Then focus.” The words aren’t harsh. Just matter-of-fact.
Manager Kim gave a short nod before he moved on to the next crisis that demanded his attention.
You waited until he was gone before letting out a long breath. Then immediately your eyes drifted back towards the stage. Which is exactly the problem. You can't stop looking over at him. Can't resist wanting to be near him, even when you know you shouldn't.
By the time you finally escaped your place beside the stage, your face was warm and your patience was hanging by a thread. Yet, somehow you were still thinking about that stupid text.
Baby please. The words echoed with a weight that makes your chest ache. You've read them so many times the screen should have burned the letters into your retinas. The worst part is that it hadn’t sounded forced. It didn’t sound like a joke. It sounded natural, like he’d typed it without thinking. Like it belonged there. Like that stupid playful name belonged to you for him to say.
The rest of rehearsal felt like torture. Every time you thought you’d finally get a moment alone with him something got in the way. An intern needed approval on content, someone asking about scheduling. Then soundcheck. Then the show. Hours disappeared while the question stays lodged stubbornly in the back of your mind, pulsing with every heartbeat. Does he even know what he was doing to you?
The performance was incredible, you have to give them that. The crowd was loud enough to shake the floor beneath your feet. Fans screamed every lyric. You moved around the stage capturing content, taking photos, recording clips. Yet despite your best efforts, your attention kept drifting back to him.
Not just because he was performing, but because he’s different. The comments you read earlier while doomscrolling weren’t wrong, he’s lighter. Still dramatic and always sarcastic during his ments like always. But still Soobin, just a happier version. He looked like he finally learned how to breathe again. It looked like he finally stopped carrying every burden by himself and every time he smiled, you caught yourself smiling too.
At one point during the show he laughed so hard at something Beomgyu said that he doubled over. The sight hit you so unexpectedly that you missed the photo op entirely. You lower the camera once the opportunity had passed and smiled. Immediately annoyed with yourself, but your smile stayed, stubborn and real.
The annoyance isn't because of him technically and that was exactly what was becoming the problem. Somewhere along the way, his happiness started feeling important to you. Important enough that seeing him smile could change the entire direction of your day. Which feels wildly unfair. Especially considering he has no idea what he has been doing to you. How he lived in your head now, occupying space you didn't invite him into. How you wake up thinking about him and fall asleep doing the same.
The show finally ended but the night didn't just yet. Crew members began tearing everything down, equipment got packed away and people slowly filtered out of the backstage area. You carefully moved around the commotion as you finally spotted him near one of the equipment cases backstage. For once, he’s alone.
No members. No managers. No staff hovering nearby asking questions.
Just Soobin.
He had a towel draped around his neck from the show, dark hair damp with sweat from the stage lights, skin flushed and glowing. He looked electric and beautiful in a way that made your throat tight. His sleeves were still rolled to his forearms, veins visible beneath flushed skin. He’s looking down at his phone when your eyes landed on him. Completely unaware that you’ve spent the entire day thinking about him.
About one stupid text. About one stupid word. About how desperately you want to hear him say it again, out loud, with his actual voice instead of pixels on a screen. As if he can feel you staring, his head lifts. Your feet stop moving immediately. This was the goal all day. To find and ask him. To stop thinking about that stupid text and now that the opportunity is finally here, your brain decides this is a terrible idea.
You could leave, pretend you never saw it. Pretend he never sent it and pretend you’ve spent the last ten hours functioning like a normal person. His expression shifted as he watched you. Not dramatically but enough. A smile spread across his face with the blissful unawareness of what his words did to you all day. It's the kind of smile reserved for one specific person. The kind that appears before he can stop it.
Your stomach immediately flipped. It’s so deeply annoying now that you have realized his effect on you. You walked over quickly not letting yourself think about it.
You stopped right in front of him, clearing your throat. “So.”
He looks up to the sound of your voice. A smile immediately appearing on his face.
“So?” He echoes you with confusion.
You cross your arms. “Baby?”
The reaction you get is instant. His entire face changed, his smile disappeared, Returned, then disappeared again. “Oh my God.”
You pointed at him. “No.”
He let out a nervous laugh. “You really opened with that?”
“You called me baby.” You raised an eyebrow.
His face turned a deeper shade of red. “I know.”
“Twice.” You kept looking at him, waiting for some response.
“I know.”
“And then you vanished.” You pouted slightly.
“I was embarrassed.”
You stared at him and he stared right back. Neither of you said anything. For the first time, since your date there isn’t a screen between you. No typing bubbles, no deleted messages, no chance to rethink what you’re about to say.
Just the two of you face to face and suddenly he actually looked nervous. The realization stole the teasing right out of you. Because you suddenly see this isn’t a joke to him.
You softened. “Soobin.”
"I tried really hard not to." He paused as he swallowed hard, throat working. "Like you." The admission hung between you, fragile and enormous. You felt it in your chest, warm and terrifying.
Your heart immediately tripped over itself, stuttering and wild. You felt it in your throat, your fingertips, everywhere. “Soobin—”
“I’m serious.” He shook his head. “I knew it was a bad idea.”
You stared at him as he spoke.
“I work with you.” He continued. “It's also bad because you’re also mean to me.” He exhaled dramatically.
“I’m not mean to you.” You looked at him in absolute disbelief.
“You absolutely are.”
That almost made you laugh.
His cheeky smile faded after a moment. “But then I started looking for you.”
Your chest tightened.
“Every room.” His eyes stay fixed on yours. “Every schedule. Every event. Every conversation.”
Your breath caught as you listened to him speak so delicately.
“And somewhere along the way…” He swallowed. “You stopped being the person I worked with. You became my favorite part of the day.” His eyes met yours. Something shifted and his smile disappeared completely. “I like you.”
Your heart stumbled, not because you didn’t know. You did, but hearing it out loud is different. It’s real and not just a hope that has been fueled by Harua's texts.
“I know that’s probably obvious.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
You laughed softly. “A little.”
“A little?” He held back his own laugh.
“A lot.” You corrected yourself.
That earned a small smile from him. He looked down before he kept going. “I think about you all the time. I try not to.” A quiet laugh escapes him. “It doesn’t work.”
You couldn't look away, not from him. Not when he’s talking straight from his heart.
“When something good happens, I want to tell you first.” His voice is softer now. “When something bad happens, I want to tell you. When that article came out, my first thought wasn’t the company.” His eyes find yours again. “It was you.”
Your eyes locked in on his, watching the way he tried to keep his eyes steady. It felt wrong to see him so nervous.
“I was scared you’d think there was someone else.”
“You know I wouldn’t.” You spoke softly.
“I know.” He paused. “But I still cared.”
The honesty settled somewhere deep inside your chest. Too big to ignore.
“I don’t want to pretend we’re just friends anymore or this something in between.” He looked at you.
You take a step closer. “Then don’t.”
He blinks. “Don’t what?”
“This.” You gestured between the two of you. “Let us linger in the almost.”
Understanding immediately crosses his face.
You shook your head. “No more dancing around it.”
He looked anxious that you could practically feel his nerves burning.
“Either we’re doing this or we’re not.” Your words came out strong and as if it was final.
The answer came from him instantly, without hesitation. “We’re doing this.”
You smiled. “Then ask me.” You waited for a moment as silence took over. You let it linger for only a brief minute before finally speaking again. “Soobin...?”
His eyes lifted and suddenly you forgot every sarcastic thing you planned to say. Because he looked nervous. Not stage nervous or interview nervous. This was the kind of nervous that comes from caring too much. The kind that can’t be hidden behind a microphone or a camera.
For a second, neither of you spoke. Then he laughed quietly and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I had this whole thing planned for when I asked you.”
Your brows lift. “A speech?”
“No.” A beat of silence passed. “...Maybe.”
You laughed. His shoulders loosened slightly at the sound, then immediately tensed again as he spoke. “Now I don’t remember any of it.”
“Good.”
“What?” His eyes winded slightly.
“Speeches are usually terrible."
That earned a real laugh but sound faded quickly. His eyes stayed on yours as his smile disappeared. Not because he’s unhappy, he's far from that when you're standing in front of him. Especially since you're waiting on him to ask what feels like the scariest question he has to pose.
Every ounce of confidence disappeared as he looked at you. It’s almost impressive. The same man who performs in front of thousands of people suddenly looked terrified. Only because you matter so much to him. He laughed nervously. “I thought you already knew the answer.”
“I still want you to ask.” You smiled up at him.
He studied you for a moment. Then took a breath, like he was stepping off the edge of some life threatening cliff. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
You didn’t answer right away. Mostly because watching him panic was a little entertaining. The way he stared at you like a deer in headlights, nervously swallowing making his adams apple bobbed. It looked like complete torture until you grinned. “Finally.”
His eyes widened slightly. “That’s not an answer.”
You laughed at him. “Yes. I would love to be your girlfriend, Soobin.”
For a second, he just stared at you. The answer taking a moment to register. Then his entire face changed. The tension left first, then the panic and then something softer wrapped around him. Relief. So much relief that it almost made your chest hurt.
A laugh escaped him, quiet and disbelieving.“Really?”
You rolled your eyes immediately. “No, Soobin. I made you confess your feelings for fun.”
His grin appeared instantly. “Yeah, yeah.” He shook his head at you.
You barely finish speaking before he stepped closer. Not rushed or desperate. Just certain with the decision that’s been made. Like he’s spent months wanting to do this. His hand found residence on your waist as your fingers curled into the front of his jacket.
His plush lips pressed onto yours. The first kiss is soft, almost careful. Like he’s still making sure this is real. You kissed him back before he could overthink it. That seems to be all the encouragement he needs. His hold on your side tightened as he pulled you closer to his body.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that." He mumbled against your lips.
You feel your face warm immediately. “Then why haven't you?”
“I wanted you to be ready.” He pulled away to look at you. Pupils wider than before. "I also wanted to be ready for you." His smile only widened as he kissed you again.
warnings: soobin and reader are more flirty now (kinda)
a/n: i'm sorry if the last couple of images don't fit with everything (i think i just had too many ideas that my brain just went with it), also please pretend that the time on the lock screen is accurate… i didn't realize i couldn't change it to 8am and also the typo...
masterlist
secret.bf!beomgyu x colleague.gf!reader .ᐟ headcanons
warnings: SMUT! p in v, dom!beomgyu x sub!reader, office sex (duh!), takes place interchangeably between their offices, rough sex (i think), unprotected sex (don't!), he has a slight pain kink, creampie, mentions of fingering & squirting, teasing, sexting, mentions of getting married, dirty talk, jealousy, possessiveness, sexism in the workplace, beomgyu is down bad, attempted fluff at the end
scznote: these were supposed to purely be headcanons then it became a bit of a drabble >< woops (1.2k words) may contain errors!
based on this ask i received from an anon a while ago! majority of this became filth, ah! hope you like it anonie! x
secretbf!beomgyu who is the secretary of your company’s ceo. he's sharp, quick on his feet and carries an effortless authority that makes entire departments bend to his command, under the instruction of his superior, of course. most people in office are just as intimidated by him as they are your boss – considering he ranks far above you within the company's hierarchy
secretbf!beomgyu who first fell head over heels in love with you after watching you fight relentlessly for the women in your marketing department. he had watched you advocate for the recognition and promotions you all deserved. he had watched you demand accountability in a workplace where the men constantly resold your ideas as their own and god, beomgyu had admired the way you had refused to shrink yourself to keep the peace
secretbf!beomgyu who had quietly raised your department’s concerns to the appropriate executives, having made sure the issue would no longer be ignored
secretbf!beomgyu who believed in you when your male colleagues dismissed you and your own female coworkers chose to be passive
secretbf!beomgyu who, when promotion season arrived, had made sure that your name was finally attached to the work you had been carrying all along – putting in a good word for you with the chief executive at the official board meeting – his heart having soared when the other executives and shareholders had agreed at the mention of your name, securing your promotion
secretbf!beomgyu who had kept in touch with you even after you'd earned your promotion. lunch together had turned into dinner and dinner had eventually turned into late nights and hushed confessions at his place – and the rest is history
secretbf!beomgyu who does a brilliant job at keeping your relationship under wraps – or so he thinks
— aside from the countless bouquets of your favourite flowers sent right to your office under the guise of an anonymous secret admirer, along with your usual order of coffee every single morning, secretbf!beomgyu is terrible at hiding that he's hopelessly in love with you, his gaze alone giving him away
— and if your boss notices, he doesn't say anything, simply shooting you and beomgyu amused looks
secretbf!beomgyu who fails to control the way his eyes soften and his grin widens whenever you enter the room or the way the executives exchange knowing glances every time he personally volunteers to “review” marketing reports that only happen to come from your division
secretbf!beomgyu sends you risky texts during meetings with your marketing department, just to see your cheeks flush a deep pink while he looks ahead, putting on an innocent act as he adjusts his glasses – the casual "you look extra good today. sit on my face?" making you short-circuit
secretbf!beomgyu who can't keep his hands off of you, lord
secretbf!beomgyu who sneaks you into his office for a steamy makeout session, like routine, every single day at lunch or especially after said meetings, even more so when you're working together on overtime. he just can't help himself
secretbf!beomgyu who, against your better judgement, almost always turns your makeout sessions into quickies – locking his office door the second you step over that threshold
— and who are you to say no when your handsome, tall, charmer of a boyfriend backs you against the nearest wall or desk, or seats himself in his leather chair, pulling you right into his lap
"have i ever told you how sexy you look when you're pitching all your ideas to the board? sitting through those meetings gets a lot harder when you’re the one presenting"
— you give in every time, weak when his hands grip at your stockings, when he ruts his hard-on against the already soaking fabric of your panties, lips and teeth licking, sucking, biting at the skin of your neck
secretbf!beomgyu who only tuts when you whine, "beomgyu, not here—" , shutting you up with a hungry kiss. your moans are all swallowed greedily by his mouth, bringing every protest to a halt. "shh, sit back for me" , he commands in that tone that sends shivers down your spine and you obey him within seconds
secretbf!beomgyu who loves that you're barely able to keep quiet as he takes you rough, the desk – or whatever surface he's got you against – shaking and squeaking vigorously beneath you
secretbf!beomgyu who mocks you for every slip of your mouth, for every needy whine and sobby whimper that accidentally tumbles from your lips
secretbf!beomgyu who stuffs his tie in your mouth, biting back grunts and moans when your hands pull and tug at his hair – hard
secretbf!beomgyu who can actually keep it down, save for the breathy, gruff sighs that manage to escape him and the occasional hisses through his teeth when your cunt squeezes around him
secretbf!beomgyu who has to fight the urge to land a loud smack against your ass when he has you bent over, gripping at the flesh like an absolute beast
secretbf!beomgyu who rams even harder into you when one of your male colleagues, specifically hueningkai from the IT & tech department calls and knocks at the door of your office – reveling in the way your eyes widen and you clamp a hand over your mouth
oh, how secretbf!beomgyu despises the sweet smiles and texts hueningkai leaves for you on your desktop whenever he's fixed a bug on your workstation. he's greatly annoyed that the blonde even thinks he has a chance
secretbf!beomgyu who grits things out like, "should put a ring on your finger so everyone knows you're mine" , "look at you, all fucked out on my cock. he could never fuck you like this" , "pretty head full of marketing plans runs empty when you're full of me, yeah?" and "what would the board say if they saw you now, hm?"
secretbf!beomgyu knows all your sweet spots, relentlessly working his thick, heavy length against them, rendering you brainless, his name right on the tip of your tongue when he gets you to cum, spasming wildly around him
secretbf!beomgyu cums inside of you, claiming you – tempted to fuck his release back into you with every rhythmic pulse of your cunt
secretbf!beomgyu who loves watching his cum dribble out of you when he pulls out, keeping wipes in your cabinets to clean it all up
secretbf!beomgyu who's always holding back from sliding two long fingers up your slit and into your pussy, solely to push his cum back into you – tempted to work you until you finish and squirt it all out, ruining his pristine suit. no, he always reminds himself, he'll just have to save that for when the two of you are at home
secretbf!beomgyu who only chuckles when you gawk at the mess that is your desk, grinning smugly as you scramble about to tidy up, the slightest limp in your step
secretbf!beomgyu who unknowingly confirms every dating rumor when he steps out of your office without his–
"glasses! i forgot my glasses in your office!"
devil. he just came back for seconds after spotting hueningkai in the hallway, his sly smirk betraying his true intentions – and you pray, just like every other day, that the two of you are able to finish before the time ticks for lunch to be over – even if you know beomgyu's going to continue what he started the second the two of you get home
how can you resist? you just hope no one in office catches on – after all, you don't think they know
.ᐟ.ᐟ extra .ᐟ.ᐟ
bf!beomgyu who fucks you as hard, loud and long as he's been craving to at home. he holds nothing back when it's just the two of you – all the pent up, suppressed desire searing to the surface
bf!beomgyu who, when you're all cleaned up and your eyes become droopy, kisses you goodnight sweetly – whispering affirmations of adoration and devotion to you, the deep timbre of his voice lulling you to sleep
bf!beomgyu who falls asleep with a smile on his face, subconsciously matching the one on yours – dreaming about finally putting the ring he's kept hidden, on your finger
scz note: i had to make it fluffy at the end! ah! hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! don't be shy to comment or reblog! <3
to the sweet anon who shared their idea with me, i hope i did your ask justice! x
hello everyone :) i just wanted to put out there that i am open to requests! as im finishing up on Quarter Life Crisis im realizing im truly lacking ideas 😭😭
please send any request you may have! i’m open to smut, regular fics, fake texts, reactions etc!
wc: 4.2k
warnings: none i think? soobin keeps checking in on reader the whole night
a/n: i hope you enjoyyy! i truly hate editing so i skimmed over this while getting the small font and everything like that so i apologize for any mistakes
masterlist
By the time the car pulled up outside your apartment, you had already convinced yourself Soobin had lost his mind. Not in a bad way. But he probably did. You stood by the window with your arms crossed, staring down at the sleek black car parked against the curb in disbelief. It wasn’t a limo, thankfully. It wasn’t flashy enough to make you immediately turn around and change back into sweatpants, but it was nice enough to make your eyes narrow.
Your phone buzzed in your hand.
soobie :)
car’s there
You looked from the message to the car, then back again.
you
soobin
His reply came almost instantly.
soobie :)
yes?
you
what did i say about dramatic or insane
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
soobie :)
it’s just a car
there’s no show i promise
You paused.
you
why would you say that unprompted
soobie :)
because i know you're thinking it
Despite yourself, you smiled. That was the annoying part. You were trying very hard to be normal about this. You had spent the last hour getting ready with the kind of nervous focus that made everything feel more serious than it needed to be. You changed your outfit twice. Then changed back into the first one. Then stood in front of the mirror wondering if you looked like you were trying too hard, only to realize you were literally going on a date with a man who had already admitted to planning something private because he wanted to do it right.
So maybe trying was allowed. Still, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.
you
if i pull up somewhere with cameras i’m leaving
soobie :)
no cameras
you
if there are staff members clapping i’m leaving
soobie :)
no clapping
you
if you rented out an entire restaurant i’m leaving
This time, his response took longer.
soobie :)
please just get in the car
You stared at the message. Then at the car. Then your eyes went back to the message.
“Oh, he’s guilty,” you muttered to yourself.
You grabbed your bag anyway and made it out of your apartment. The driver was polite, opening the door for you without making a big production of it. The inside of the car smelled faintly expensive, like leather and something clean you couldn’t place. You settled into the backseat and tried not to look like someone who was deeply, embarrassingly curious.
The drive wasn’t long. Which made your curiosity return back to your original suspicion. You watched familiar streets pass by, your brows slowly pulling together as the car turned into a neighborhood you recognized too well.
No…there was no way.
The car slowed in front of Soobin’s house. For a second, you just sat there. Then you looked down at your phone.
you
soobin
The front door opened before he answered. He stepped outside wearing a white button-up with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, hair soft around his face, expression caught somewhere between nervous and proud. The second he saw you through the window, his smile broke through before he could stop it.
You hated how much that smile worked on you.
The driver opened your door, and you stepped out slowly, still looking around like there had to be some hidden trick.
“So,” you said, turning to him. “Your big date plan was making me come to your house?”
Soobin’s smile faltered immediately. “No—well, yes, but not like—” He stopped, inhaled, then tried again. “It’s not just my house.”
You lifted a brow.
“That sounded worse,” he said.
“A little,” you agreed.
“I can explain.”
“You have thirty seconds.” You teased. Even though you both knew you would stay no matter how long he took to explain.
He nodded quickly, then stepped aside and gestured toward the side gate instead of the front door. “Just come see first. And if you hate it, we can leave. Or order takeout. Or I can pretend this never happened.”
“You’re spiraling.”
“I’m not,” he said, then paused. “Okay, maybe a little.”
That made you soften before you meant to. Soobin noticed. Of course he did, but he didn’t reach for you. Didn’t crowd you. He just waited, giving you the choice.
So you walked toward him. “Fine,” you said. “Show me.”
His shoulders relaxed. “Okay,” he said quietly. “Come on.”
He led you through the side gate, and the second you stepped into the backyard, your teasing disappeared. It didn’t look like his house anymore. Granted you were only here once before but you could still see the difference. The patio had been transformed with warm string lights hanging overhead, soft and golden against the evening sky. A small table sat near the garden, dressed simply with candles, flowers, and two place settings. Nothing too grand. Nothing screaming for attention. Just thoughtful and carefully planned out.
There was music playing low from somewhere, barely loud enough to recognize. A private chef stood near an outdoor setup, focused on plating something while pretending very hard not to notice either of you.
No cameras. No crowd. No performance.
Just his curated plan and him. Just like he had promised.
You looked at Soobin. He was watching your face intently as if your reaction mattered more than anything else in the world.
“I know you said no big scene,” he said softly. “So I tried not to make one.”
Your chest tightened. “Soobin…”
“I wanted it to feel like somewhere else,” he continued, quieter now. “But still private. Somewhere you didn’t have to worry about people watching us or someone recognizing me or making it weird.” He swallowed. “And I wanted to do something nice. Not because I’m trying to prove anything. Just because you deserve nice things.”
For once, you didn’t know what to say right away.
He shifted on his feet, nervous again. “Is this okay?”
You looked back at the lights, the table, the private chef working away off to the side. The care tucked into every detail. Then you looked at him. “Yeah,” you said, voice softer than you expected. “It’s okay.”
His smile came slowly this time, relieved and shy.“Good,” he said.
You tried to roll your eyes, but it didn’t quite work.“You’re still insane for sending a car.”
“It was a normal car.”
“It was a suspicious car.” You waved your finger as you teased.
“I’ll take that feedback.”
“You better.”
“I will,” he promised.
And the strange thing was, you believed him. He led you toward the table, but he didn’t pull out your chair immediately. Instead, he stopped a few feet away like he wanted to give you a second to look around without him hovering over your reaction.
That was the part that got you. Not the lights. Not the flowers. Not the private chef pretending not to exist near the outdoor setup.
It was the restraint.
The old Soobin would have wanted your reaction right away. He would have watched your face too closely, needing every flicker of approval, every softened breath, every sign that he had done enough.
This Soobin still wanted it. You could see that much, but he wasn’t reaching for it greedily with both hands.
“You’re staring,” he said, voice quieter now.
You blinked, realizing you had been looking at him instead of the setup.
“So are you.”
His mouth twitched. “I’m allowed. You’re my date.”
The word date landed between you, warm and terrifying.
Your stomach dipped. Soobin seemed to catch it because his smile softened into something less teasing. “Too much?”
You shook your head. “No.”
“Okay.”
He didn’t ask again. Didn’t make you prove it. He just nodded once and finally stepped forward to pull out your chair. You sat down slowly, smoothing your hands over your lap while he moved around to the other side of the table. For a second, you watched him instead of the candles. The way he adjusted his sleeves. The way he glanced at the chef, then at you, then down at his own place setting like he was trying to remember how normal people behaved on dates.
It made you smile.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“That was not a nothing smile.” He raised an eyebrow.
“It was.”
“It was mean.” He pushed out his bottom lip in a pout.
“It was fond.”
His expression changed at that. You regretted the word almost immediately. Not because it wasn’t true, but because it was. Because fond felt dangerously close to admitting how much of you had already softened before the night even began.
Soobin didn’t tease you for it. He only looked down, smiling to himself like he was trying to keep the moment somewhere safe.
“Fond is good,” he said quietly.
You looked away first, pretending to study the table. “Don’t get used to it.”
“I won’t,” he said.
But his smile said he absolutely would.
The private chef introduced the first course with a polite smile, explaining something about roasted vegetables and a sauce you immediately forgot the name of because Soobin was still looking at you like he was waiting for permission to breathe.
You waited until the chef stepped away before narrowing your eyes at him. “You can relax now.”
“I am relaxed.”
“You look like you’re waiting for me to grade you.” You let your expression relax as you watched him.
His mouth opened, then closed.
You pointed your fork at him. “See?”
Soobin laughed under his breath, glancing down at his plate. “I just want you to have a good time.”
“I am having a good time.”
“Already?”
“Yes, already.” You smiled softly.
“That fast?”
“You’re fishing.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
He smiled and the tension in his shoulders finally eased a little.
Dinner was easy, that surprised you most. Not because being around Soobin was hard. It used to be easy in a different way. He was loud, reckless, magnetic. The kind of easy that made you forget to check where you were stepping until the ground disappeared beneath you. This version was quieter. He asked about your week and actually listened when you answered. He didn’t interrupt to make a joke when the conversation got too close to something real. He didn’t fill every silence like silence meant failure.
Sometimes, he just let the night sit between you. Warm lights, soft music, the soft clink of silverware. His knee brushing yours beneath the table once before he immediately pulled back, eyes flicking up to yours.
“Sorry.”
You shook your head. “You’re fine.”
He nodded, but he still didn’t move closer again. That was different, not new like your original thoughts tried to tell you. You were starting to understand the distinction. By the time the second course came, you had stopped waiting for the catch.
Soobin noticed that too. “You’re less suspicious now,” he said.
You took a sip of water to hide your smile. “Don’t get cocky.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“You absolutely would.”
“Maybe before.” The words landed softly but they still felt loaded.
You looked up. Soobin’s gaze dropped to his plate for a second, like he hadn’t meant to say it that plainly. Then he exhaled, fingers brushing the stem of his glass without lifting it.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
“You didn’t.”
He looked at you then as you held his gaze. “You can say things like that.”
His expression shifted, careful but open. “I’m trying not to overdo it,” he admitted. “The whole… talking about myself thing.”
“That’s not what I meant when I said I didn’t want to carry everything for you.”
“I know.” His answer came quick. Then he paused, like he realized that too, and tried again. “I’m starting to know,” he corrected softly.
You set your fork down. Soobin watched the movement, but he didn’t panic. Didn’t rush to explain himself before you could react. He just waited. That alone made your chest ache a little.
“I used to think being honest with you meant telling you everything,” he said. “Every bad thought. Every insecurity. Every time I felt like I was falling apart.” His mouth pulled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “And I told myself that was trust.”
You stayed quiet, not because you had nothing to say. You just knew he wasn't finished.
He exhaled a moment before he continued. “But sometimes I think I was just handing it to you because I didn’t know what else to do with it,” he continued. “Like if I gave it to you, then maybe it wouldn’t be mine anymore.”
Your throat tightened. “Soobin…”
“I know that wasn’t fair,” he said, voice gentle but steady. “And I’m not saying that so you’ll tell me it was okay. I know it wasn’t.”
That stopped you. There had been a time where he would have said it and waited for comfort. Waited for you to soften the guilt for him. Waited for you to tell him he hadn’t hurt you as badly as he thought. He wasn’t doing that now. He was just telling the truth and letting it stay there. Not covering up for himself with excuses.
You looked down at your hands for a second, trying to gather yourself. “I wanted to be there for you,” you said quietly. “I still do.”
“I know.”
“But I didn’t want to feel like if I stepped back, you’d fall apart.”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded. “I know,” he repeated, voice soft.
“I didn’t want to be the only thing keeping you okay.”
“You shouldn’t have been.” The answer came so simply that it hurt more than if he had made excuses.
Soobin looked at you with something raw in his face. Not desperate or pleading, just honest. “I’m sorry I made you feel like that.”
You breathed in slowly. “I know you are.”
His fingers flexed on the table, close to yours but not touching. “I’m getting help with that,” he said after a moment. “Not just saying I will. I’m actually doing it.”
Your eyes lifted to his. He looked nervous, but not ashamed.
“I’ve been talking to someone, you know that.” he continued. “And I’ve been trying to talk to the guys too. Not about you,” he added quickly. “I mean, not in a weird way. Just… letting them know when I’m not okay instead of waiting until I’m impossible to be around.”
He looked down, smiling faintly. “I don’t want you to be my emergency contact for every feeling I don’t know how to handle.”
Something in you went still.
Soobin glanced up again. “I want you to be my person,” he said. “But not my only person.”
For a second, all you could do was stare at him. Because that was it. That was the difference you wanted him to see. Not that he didn’t need you or that he had suddenly become perfectly healed, easy and uncomplicated. You just needed him to see that he wasn’t asking you to disappear inside the need anymore. You reached across the table before you could overthink it. His eyes flicked down as your hand covered his.
He didn’t grab on. He didn’t cling. He just turned his palm up slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. You didn’t. His fingers curled gently around yours.
“I like being there for you,” you said.
His thumb brushed once over your knuckles. “I like when you are,” he admitted.
“But I need to know you can stand even when I’m not holding you up.”
He nodded, eyes shining a little in the candlelight. “I can,” he said. Then, quieter, “I’m learning how to.”
You believed that too. Maybe not blindly or without fear, but enough. Enough to sit across from him under warm lights in the backyard he had turned into somewhere softer. Enough to let his hand hold yours without feeling trapped by it. Enough to think, for the first time in a long time, that maybe safe didn’t have to mean untouched by hurt.
Maybe safe could be this. Someone who had hurt you while learning how to not do that. Someone who had needed too much learning on how to ask for less without loving you less. Someone sitting across from you, hand open, waiting.
Soobin looked at your joined hands, then back at you. “Is this okay?” he asked.
You squeezed his fingers. “Yeah,” you said softly. “This is okay.”
After dinner, the chef packed quietly and left through the side gate with a polite goodbye, taking the last bit of formality with him.
The backyard felt different once it was just the two of you. Quieter, more intimate. The candles were lower now, small flames flickering in the glass holders between empty plates and half-finished drinks. The music still played softly from the speakers, something soft enough that it almost blended into the night.
Soobin stood to clear the table.
You reached for your plate at the same time. “I can help.”
He gave you a look. “Absolutely not.”
“Soobin.”
“No.” He took the plate from your hand before you could argue. “You are on a date.”
“And you are?”
“Also on a date,” he said, carrying the dishes toward the outdoor kitchen. “But I’m trying to be impressive.”
“You already hired a chef.”
“I’m trying to be domestically impressive then.”
You laughed, and he glanced back at you like the sound had caught him off guard. It was subtle. The way his expression softened. The way he looked down right after, as if he didn’t want to get caught wanting too much from something as simple as your laugh.
But you saw it.
You were starting to see him more clearly now that he wasn’t constantly demanding to be seen. When he came back, his hands were empty, but his nerves had returned.
You tilted your head. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You look suspicious again.” Your eyes narrowed.
“I’m not suspicious.”
“You are extremely suspicious.” You retorted.
He exhaled a laugh, then looked toward the open space beside the table where the lights hung low and golden. “I was going to ask something, but now I feel like you’re going to make fun of me.”
“I’m definitely going to make fun of you.” You teased.
“Great.”
“But you should ask anyway.” Your tone was still light but more serious now.
Soobin looked at you for a moment. Then he held out his hand. “Dance with me?”
Your heart did something stupid in your chest.
It wasn’t a big gesture. No sweeping music change. No sudden spotlight. Just Soobin standing in front of you under string lights, hand extended, asking instead of taking.
You looked at his hand. Then at him. “You planned this too?”
His mouth twitched. “No.”
“Liar.”
“I planned the dinner,” he admitted. “I hoped for this.”
Your chest tightened, but you didn’t run from it. You placed your hand in his. His fingers closed around yours carefully, like he still couldn’t quite believe you had given him permission. He guided you away from the table, slow enough that you could change your mind at any second.
The music wrapped around the two of you as he turned to face you. For a second, neither of you knew where to put your hands. That made you smile, and Soobin huffed out a nervous laugh.
“Don’t laugh.” You gave him a serious look.
“I’m not.” He defended.
“You are.”
“I’m trying to be romantic.” He defended quickly.
“You’re doing okay.” You shrugged, still teasing him.
“Okay?” he repeated, feigning offense.. “Just okay?”
You stepped closer, your hand settling on his shoulder. “Don’t ruin it.”
His teasing faded into something softer.
“I won’t.”
His free hand found your waist, light at first. Barely there. His palm settled over the fabric of your dress like he was afraid of pressing too hard, fingertips barely curving into the soft material. The touch was careful, but it still sent warmth through you, slow and distracting.
You saw the moment he noticed it too. Noticed the way your breath caught. The way your hand tightened on his shoulder. The way you didn’t move away.
His thumb shifted once, almost unconsciously, brushing over the seam at your waist. His eyes flicked down for half a second, then back up to yours, darker than they had been before.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
“You keep apologizing.”
“I keep wanting to touch you more than I should.”
The honesty of it stole whatever teasing response you had ready. For a second, neither of you moved. Then you stepped closer, just enough for his hand to fit more securely against you.
“You’re allowed to want me,” you said softly. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
Soobin’s breath caught again and this time, he didn’t apologize.
For a while, you only moved together. Slowly. Awkwardly at first, then easier. His thumb brushed once against your waist, and your fingers tightened at his shoulder. His eyes flicked down to your mouth before returning to your face so quickly you might have missed it if you hadn’t been watching him just as closely.
“Soobin,” you said softly.
“Yeah?”
“You’re thinking too loud.”
A faint smile touched his mouth. “Sorry.”
“What are you thinking?”
He swallowed. “That I really want to kiss you.”
Everything went still. The music. The lights. The night around you. Or maybe that was just your mind playing tricks.
His hand stayed at your waist, but he didn’t pull you closer. His eyes searched yours, open and careful and painfully restrained.
“But I don’t want to assume,” he said. “And I don’t want to make you feel like you have to because this is going well.”
Your throat tightened.
This was what undid you. Not the dinner. Not the lights. Not the car or the chef or the effort he had folded into every detail of the night.
It was this. It was Soobin wanting you and still leaving room for your answer. You looked at him, at the nervous hope he was trying so hard not to turn into pressure, and something inside you finally gave.
“You can kiss me,” you said.
His expression changed. Not into triumph, it wasn't really relief either. But it was something softer. “Yeah?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
He leaned in slowly. So slowly it almost hurt. Your eyes fluttered shut just before his mouth touched yours.
The kiss was gentle at first. Almost feeling like a question pressed against your lips. Then your hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck, and Soobin made the quietest sound against your mouth, like the last of his restraint had cracked.
The kiss deepened. Not rushed or reckless yet. His arm wrapped more securely around your waist, pulling you closer only after you leaned into him first. Your fingers curled into the ends of his hair, and he kissed you like he had been waiting weeks to do it right. Like every apology, every boundary, every careful step back had led him here.
He knew not to take, not to demand, but to meet you where you were finally willing to stand. You felt it everywhere. In the warmth of his hand at your back. In the way his fingers spread over the soft fabric of your dress, not gripping, not taking, just holding like he was memorizing the shape of you through it. In the way he tilted his head to kiss you deeper and how he still paused, barely, giving you space to breathe.
You kissed him again instead, not wanting to accept the gap between you. The second kiss was less careful. Still gentle, still patient, but there was no pretending anymore. His hand slid a little farther around your waist, fingers flexing once against the material as your body leaned into his before your mind could argue. Soobin accepted the closeness with a quiet breath against your mouth.
He didn’t rush you. That somehow made it worse. Every pause felt intentional. Every brush of his thumb against your side felt like a question he knew how to ask properly now. Your hand moved from his neck so you could wrap your arms around his shoulders and he shivered beneath your touch, the reaction so immediate that your stomach tightened.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” he whispered against your lips.
“Doing what?”
“Making it hard to be good.” He mumbled against your lips.
Your mouth curved faintly. “I thought you were reformed.”
“I’m trying,” he said, voice low. “Very hard.”
The words hung between you, warm and dangerous. Yet he still didn’t take more than you gave him. He only held you there under the lights, hands at your waist like he was reminding himself that wanting you didn’t mean forgetting how to wait.
Soobin’s breath trembled when you pulled back just enough to look at him. His forehead rested against yours, eyes still closed, mouth parted like he was afraid speaking would break whatever fragile thing had just settled between you.
You smiled faintly. “You okay?”
He let out a breathless laugh. “No.”
Your brows lifted. His eyes opened, soft and dark and overwhelmed in the best way.
“But in a good way,” he said quickly.
You laughed, and his hand tightened gently at your waist.
“Don’t make fun of me,” he murmured.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“A little.”
His smile came slowly. Then his gaze dropped to your mouth again. This time, he didn’t ask with words. He asked by waiting and you answered by closing the distance yourself.
