To anybody waiting on the next chapter of My Demon... I am officially 2.5k words in - hoping to make it a longer chapter (10k+) since I haven't updated in a while. Hoping to post by the end of next week (7/18) at the absolute latest!
Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong x Reader
Word Count: 6.8k
Summary: Work keeps you distracted, but not enough to escape the feeling that something — or someone — is still lingering just out of reach. A reminder from Hongjoong disrupts the fragile distance you're trying to keep, pulling you back into everything you've been avoiding. As the night unfolds, that unease turns into something far more dangerous, forcing you to confront just how little control you really have.
Warnings: Stalking, Attempted kidnapping, Physical assault & violence, Knife threat, Graphic injury (stabbing, blood, wound detail), Near-death experience, Mentions of past trauma
My Demon Masterlist
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
Tag List (open): @evieduck
"We should be able to start combing through the files tomorrow, we will keep you updated on anything we may find," the voice droned from the phone in your small conference room. After sending the email to legal yesterday, all hands were on deck to scrub through anybody's account that has access to finances. A minuscule amount of pressure lifted off your shoulders when HR responded with the green light to further the investigation because at least you aren't alone on this anymore.
"Thank you. We'll talk soon." You ended the call before looking over at Jongho who was scribbling the last of his notes from the meeting. "Are we still meeting with marketing at four?"
"Yes, and you need to approve the photos they want to use in that magazine spread." Jongho scrolled through the to do list that would never be emptied, scanning for anything else that required priority right now. "Speaking of photos, are you still able to go to that shoot on Thursday? The one for... what was it again..." he furiously tapped on his phone's screen, furiously searching for the details, "Oh yes, the 30 Under 30. They want to feature you as one of the youngest self made CEOs."
"Yes, we can make that work." You weren't fully paying attention to what Jongho had been saying, distracted for the millionth time that day by the black ink peeking from the cuff of your blouse, wanting nothing more than to forget about Hongjoong completely. You would take the tattoo. Hell, you'd even take the potential murder from that other man if it meant you could walk away with just the trauma of that night.
No, instead it felt like a ghost was following behind you everywhere you went. You swore the tattoo would radiate warmth every so often, pulling you out of whatever you were focused on at that moment just so you could remember him. You had replayed every interaction with him thousands of times over. On the rare nights you found yourself in bed at home, you stayed up until ungodly hours trying to make it all make sense. Sure, blaming everything on supernatural occurrences was an option, but that didn't explain how you found yourself in that situation to begin with.
"Y/n?" Jongho's voice cut back through, sweeping your spiraling thoughts away. "Are you okay?"
You knew you had been teasing the edge of what Jongho would find as an acceptable work-life balance, so you sent a small reassuring smile before responding, "I'm going to grab a cup of coffee, I'll meet you back in my office to look over those pictures."
You grabbed your notepad and empty mug before heading to the well-loved coffee machine that was nestled in the corner of the kitchen. You weren't sure if it was your third or fourth cup of the day. All that mattered was the comfort that the scent of fresh coffee grounds brought to your tensed body.
"Afternoon, boss," a chipper voice sounded from the doorway. You glanced over your shoulder to catch Wooyoung waltzing his way over to the fridge. "Long day?"
"Mm," you hummed, pulling your mug from under the machine and heading to where Wooyoung was raiding the fridge for a sweet treat. "Pass me the creamer, would you?"
"Everything okay? I could've sworn you were asleep waiting for that," he nodded towards your mug before pouring just the right amount of creamer to turn your coffee the perfect shade of beige.
"Just a lot going on, thanks Wooyoung." You wrapped both of your hands around the steaming mug, inhaling the now sweetened aroma deep into your lungs.
"Is there anything we can do?" he asked as he slid a cake the team was testing out from the top shelf of the fridge. "I know you hate to hear it, but we do worry about you." He did his best to give you space, well aware of your aversion to anything that can be considered pity or coddling. However, he couldn't help but offer a lifeline just in case you decided to leave the cold-hearted boss persona in the past for once.
"I'm fine," you started, taking a quick sip of your coffee before continuing, "I appreciate the concern, but it will all sort out in the end. Just make sure your team isn't falling behind. We can schedule a rundown meeting for Friday so I can catch up on everybody's progress."
"Of course," he responded, sliding a piece of cake onto a small plate. "We are almost done with that presentation for the global investors. We should have it ready to show you by then." You watched as Wooyoung covered the remainder of the cake again and slid it back into the fridge.
"Perfect, don't forget the-"
"The customer testimonies? Already on slide ten, right after the gross sales numbers for last quarter." Wooyoung's lips spread into a wide smile before he sunk his fork into his slice of cake. "San has checked over everything a thousand times. We know how particular you are."
His comment wasn't meant to be rude, in fact he knew that you would view it as a compliment. A way of acknowledging all the time and energy you put into this company. His smile grew an inch when he saw the tiniest of movement at the corner of your lips, the only acknowledgement you had ever given to your employees of your approval.
"I'll have Jongho send out the meeting invite." You pushed yourself off of where you had begun to lean on the counter, heading back towards your office.
"Oh! Wait, Ms. y/l/n!" Wooyoung called after you. "There's a delivery for you at the front desk."
Your brows furrowed in confusion. You hadn't ordered anything. Maybe it was a mix-up, sent to the wrong person or something. Wooyoung's eyes followed you as you made a left towards the reception desk, intrigued to see what your reaction would be to the gift that was waiting for you.
A flash of heat ignited along your skin as you came to a stop. Surely these weren't for you, it had to be a mistake. Or worse - a cruel joke. There was no other reason you would be getting sent flowers.
Your secretary slid the vase that was holding the obnoxiously large bouquet towards you with a polite smile, opting not to say anything in case you directed your clear displeasure in her direction. After a couple deep breaths you willed yourself to snatch the small card out from the middle of the blooms, quickly unfolding it to reveal the messily scrawled message within.
You said I didn't think. But that's not true. I can't stop thinking about you. -HJ
The audacity. To say your blood was boiling would be an understatement. Was this his way of trying to apologize? First he saves your life, then he nearly kills you trying to get whatever this tattoo was back. Your head was spinning from the whiplash his personality gave you.
"Everything okay?" You recognized Wooyoung's voice once again from the doorway. He was trying his hardest to avoid sounding concerned, but the way your face drained of color while reading was setting off alarms in his head.
"Yeah," you replied, training your expression back into one of neutrality, even throwing on an uncharacteristic smile to help cover up your spiraling. "Everything's fine."
You brushed past Wooyoung, who was still trying to decipher your abnormal reaction. Making your way back to your office, you left without taking another glance at the flowers, wishing they would disappear with every step you put between yourself and them. Seeing Jongho waiting in the seat across from your desk was the exact distraction you needed at this moment. As you took your seat, you quickly slid the card under the coaster that held your mug - praying that the out of sight out of mind proverb would finally ring true for once this week.
___
The hours had slipped away from you, much like they had for the past couple of weeks. You hadn't heard anything else from Hongjoong after the flower delivery thankfully. But that didn't stop him from continuing to haunt the edges of your thoughts constantly. Every aspect of your life was complicated. If it wasn't the literal demon on your shoulder consuming your mind, it was the investigation at work, or in the rare moments you found yourself in your actual bed - memories of your parents liked to bleed through to the forefront.
Jongho had finally reached the end of his rope, refusing to watch you destroy yourself behind your desk. It was only eleven when he turned your computer off and handed you your coat and bag, insisting that you get some rest before the photoshoot you were meant to be at in the morning.
The drive home was a rare relaxing moment for you. Playing music just loud enough to keep your mind occupied was exactly what you needed. You could barely even recall driving when you found yourself pulling into the underground parking garage of your apartment building. Most of the other residents had been home for hours, their cars neatly tucked into the rows surrounding you.
A pang of uneasiness sparked in your chest as you made your way to the elevator from your car. It was quiet, which wasn't unreasonable considering the hour, but it was quiet in the way a room is right before a surprise party is revealed. Like somebody is around the corner, holding their breath, waiting for your footsteps to grow closer.
You knew your current fear was unfounded. You had left work this late almost every day, always making the journey home alone. Why was tonight any different? Perhaps being reminded of your complicated relationship with a demon had set you on edge more than you realized. You were so sick of him invading your thoughts, your brain looping every moment spent with Hongjoong over and over again until you found something to distract yourself with. It's not like he would show up here, right? Your radio silence had to have sent a message to him. A message to leave you the hell alone...
But here you were, terrified that Hongjoong was about to pop up behind you with some new scheme to transfer his mark back. The mere thought of him being nearby spiked your heartrate, causing you to pick up your pace. I'm almost home. Just a short elevator ride and I'll be safe. Nothing to worry about-
The sound of your keys clattering against the concrete seemed to echo across the entire garage. A beat of silence, two. You weren't sure what you were waiting for, but when your surroundings remained still you let out the breath that had gotten stuck in your lungs. A few curses slipped past your lips as you bent down, snatching the mess of keychains back into your palm.
"There you are."
You nearly jumped out of your own skin at the sound of a man's voice, it was slightly familiar but you couldn't quite place it. Your brain was scrambling for where you had heard him before. He sounded close, but as your eyes scanned your surroundings you were unable to find where it came from. Your fingers fumbled with your keys, hands shaking as they searched for the key fob that would allow you to call the elevator.
"Not so fast."
You could feel the heat of his breath against the back of your neck the same instant his hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking you back against his chest. Your reflection mirrored your terrified expression in the reflective elevator doors, the promise of safety that was waiting behind them mocking you now. Tears sprang to your eyes as the stranger tugged harder, his other arm wrapping around your torso to strengthen his hold on you. You pulled against him, quickly scanning for anything that could help you. The bright red casing of the fire alarm caught your eye, immediately lunging as far as you could towards it.
"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, honey," the man grunted behind you, readjusting his hold around you to account for your sudden squirming.
Your entire body locked up as the pet name slipped past his lips. Honey. The only other person that had called you that was the man that had attacked you the night all of this mess had started. You no longer needed to see his face to know it was him - to know that your life was very much in danger again.
"What do you want with me?" You were surprised that your voice worked, even if it was only just a whisper.
"Shh, don't you worry your pretty little head about that." You could hear how he smiled as you stilled in his arms, your brain working on figuring out another escape plan. He was clearly stronger than you, barely struggling to hold your smaller frame against himself. His fingers were still tangled in your hair, encouraging you to cooperate with his movements as he began to drag you away from the elevator.
Time was running out, you assumed one of the cars nearby was his. He would need you to be unconscious if he had any hopes of keeping you with him, which meant you had about twenty seconds to do something.
"HEL-" You couldn't even get the full word out before his gloved hand was clamping over your mouth. The scent of freshly tilled dirt invaded your nostrils in an instant, your scream being effectively muffled.
"I thought we were going to do this the easy way this time, honey," he tsked. The hand covering your mouth moved to grip your jaw, causing you to wince as pain bloomed from where his fingertips dug into your skin. You were so caught up in the sudden shift that you didn't notice his grip around your middle had vanished until cold steel slid across your throat. Your breath caught as you felt a sharp sting bloom from where the metal laid across your delicate skin. "Careful now, I don't want to hurt you."
Your hands moved to pull against his forearm in a futile attempt to loosen his grip, the blade only pressed closer the harder you tugged. Knowing you were one wrong move away from your blood being spilled had you reassessing your actions, becoming still once again in his arms. Your best bet at surviving at this very moment was to listen to him, do what he wants until he's in a position you can take advantage of.
"Much better." His grip on your jaw lessened the slightest amount as he walked you towards the black SUV parked in the corner next to the stairwell. Once the two of you arrived at the vehicle, he spun you around so that your back pressed against the door, the knife still resting against your throat as a silent warning to obey. Something odd stuck out in the back of your mind. He looked different than he had the other night. His eyes were the same, the almost black irises piercing into your own. But the structure of his face differed just slightly, nose dipping lower, a mole you hadn't remembered being on his cheek, his hairline reshaping his face in a way that made you start doubting if it really was the same man. No, his voice - it's definitely the same guy. Maybe fear distorted the memories...
"Mm, forgot how pretty you look like this," his voice dipped as his free hand came up to ghost along your cheek. You couldn't help the shiver that crawled up your spine, clenching your teeth to help minimize your body's trembling. "Such a shame I have to deliver you so soon. We could've had fun."
He was leaning in now, close enough to feel his breath on your skin. Your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to witness whatever it was he planned on doing with you. Instead, you focused on your breathing, attempting to push air deeper into your lungs - counting beats to prevent yourself from hyperventilating.
"Now, be a good girl and stay still for me, yeah?"
"I'll give you two seconds to back the hell up," a new voice growled from beside you. Great. You stood there battling a vortex of emotions - you were trying your hardest to grasp onto the thin strand of hope that was just created at the same time your brain registered who that voice belonged to. The familiar flash of warmth on your wrist confirmed your suspicions, almost like the mark remembered Hongjoong.
"I don't think you're in a place to be demanding much of anything right now. One flick of my wrist and your little girlfriend here is bleeding out in front of you."
Your assailant didn't make any move to retreat, instead the knife pressed harder. Your breath hitched, the sudden movement causing the blade to nick your skin ever so slightly. The warm trail of blood streaking down your neck had you pressing as far back as you could against the car, afraid that your trembling body would cause more damage. You hated the pathetic tears that streamed down your face, frustrated with how often you had been shoved into a position with no power.
You forced your eyes open, straining to bring Hongjoong into focus. He was keeping his distance, but his posture indicated that he was seconds away from pouncing. The only thing stopping him was the very high risk of your throat being slit open at the first sign of an attack.
"He's not my boyfriend," your voice came out in a strained rasp. The attacker's head snapped back to you, taken aback by your sudden bout of confidence. His lips twisted into a sadistic grin, one that you knew you would be seared into your memory - the perfect material for your continuing nightmares.
"Well if that's true then I guess he won't mind me doing this."
His sentence was punctuated with a bolt of mind shattering pain erupting across your chest. It took a few seconds for your brain to catch up, but even then it felt like you were outside your own body. You didn't notice the blood curdling scream being ripped from deep within you, or how your blouse was quickly turning a deep crimson shade. One moment you were leaning up against the SUV, the next your cheek was pressed against the cool concrete. Your breaths were shallow, eyes glossed over and out of focus. You just wanted it to stop, you would do anything for the pain to stop.
"y/n? Shit, stay with me." Whoever was speaking sounded like they were several rooms away. Everything was muffled - his voice, your thoughts. You could tell he said something else, but the words were just out of reach, only able to focus on the excruciating pain that was radiating from the gash in your chest. The edges of your vision began to darken, a clear sign that the blood loss would soon be irreversible. But just as your eyes fluttered closed, an all too familiar blanket of warmth wrapped around you.
It was hard to describe the feeling. Similar to how the sun feels as it hits your skin after spending too many days locked away inside, or how a warm cup of cocoa can help defrost you after battling through a snowstorm. But this ran deeper. As if the warmth ran through your very veins, spreading into every corner of your being.
"Come on, come on." Words began to string themselves together again, your head becoming less fuzzy. You could finally make out the light pressure of something wrapping around your wrist. Using that connection to ground yourself, you slowly blinked your eyes open.
"H-hong-" Your attempt at speaking was quickly shushed by Hongjoong who you now noticed was kneeling next to you. You could blame the loss of blood for how your head began to spin, but somewhere deep within you knew it went further than that. The vulnerable state you found yourself in lent way for his presence to sneak past your usual walls. The thought of him saving you once again from a threat beyond his control, it had to mean something.
"-check your wound. Is that okay?" You only caught the end of his sentence, but still you nodded along, trusting him to protect you for the time being. His one hand stayed linked around your forearm, thumb mindlessly rubbing small circles over the mark that still hummed with an energy you couldn't quite place. His other hand reached for the top buttons of your now tattered blouse, making quick work of them to reveal where you had felt the blade slice through your skin just moments ago.
The mixture of the cool night breeze brushing across your now exposed skin and leftover adrenaline had you shaking like a leaf. Your teeth began to chatter as you attempted to curl in on yourself. Hongjoong was quick to stop your movements, placing his free hand on your shoulder.
"Hold on, just let me see," his voice trailed off, eyes scanning for any signs of unhealed skin. "Interesting." His expression was frustratingly indifferent as he looked down at you. You were unable to pick up on any reaction he might be having.
"Am I going to die?" Your voice was small, broken - a version of you that hadn't seen the light of day since you were a child.
Hongjoong's eyes softened as your question registered, finally remembering how little you understood about his world. "No," he reassured you, "no dying tonight. You'll probably be light headed for a while, maybe a little tender to the touch, but you're okay now."
"How did you-?"
"I won't bore you with the details, but there are some perks to being a demon." His answer lacked any explanation. You could tell he was withholding something from you, but you were in no shape to question him currently.
"Where did-" your words were cut short as you winced, attempting to sit up on your own wasn't as easy a task as you thought it would be.
"Easy now," Hongjoong mumbled, moving to support you before you ended up hurting yourself. "He's gone. You're safe."
"Safe?" Your laughter echoed through the parking garage. It wasn't funny, not really, but you couldn't stop your outburst. "Do I need remind you that I have somebody actively hunting me down? That- that psycho keeps finding me. What's going to stop him from doing it again? When will I nearly be kidnapped next, hm? I don't think that qualifies as safe, Hongjoong."
"He can't do anything to you, not when I'm around."
"You won't always be around, Hongjoong. My life is busy," you countered, your energy slowly coming back to you, "too busy, really. I can't count on you to always be waiting in the shadows." You were always a realist when it came to things, refusing to waste time on hoping for the unlikely outcome. This situation being no different, clearly it was impossible for Hongjoong to always be watching over you. He had his own life, his own job.
"I could be." You wait for him to continue, curious at how serious he was being, "I could find a way to be here. Walk you to and from work, make sure you get home safely..." His gaze drifted past you, unable to meet your eyes as he offered his protective services.
"And you would do this because..?"
He didn't have to answer, his hand tightening against where it still held your wrist was enough to reveal his intentions. Of course he doesn't want to protect me. It's always about this stupid tattoo. Your jaw clenched, rage simmering beneath your skin.
"I should've known," you started, "none of this is about actually keeping me alive. I'm just a host for your stupid mark." You let out another dry chuckle as you managed to haul yourself out of Hongjoong's grasp, stumbling to your feet. He instinctively reached out to help steady you, but was met with your hands shoving against his. "Don't touch me."
You managed to lean yourself against one of the cement pillars a few steps to your left, fighting every ounce of exhaustion that now pressed against you. Your reaction caught Hongjoong off guard. He froze in place, arms still outstretched towards you, watching as you attempted to gather yourself.
As the silence stretched between the two of you, so did the realization of how horrible the scene around you looked. Both of you were splattered in now dried blood, crimson tire tracks showing where the black SUV once sat. Looking down at yourself you cringed at your tattered blouse that lay hanging open, a twinge of embarrassment flaring up as you realized how indecent you looked.
"I'm going to bed." You trudged past Hongjoong, not waiting to hear if he had anything else to say. The elevator dinged immediately after you pressed the button, saving you from any further interactions. You refused to look back up as you tucked yourself into the corner of the small room, instead focusing on how good the hot water was going to feel as you scrub away yet another eventful night.
___
The high collar of the sweater you chose to wear today was already getting on your last nerve. No matter how you adjusted it, the fabric rubbed against your skin in all the worst ways. It was the only way to cover up the evidence of last night though, as you prepared for the photoshoot you now found yourself at.
A team of stylists had fussed over every miniscule detail, ensuring that your portrait would turn out as perfect as it could. You were sure the two hours of sleep was evident when the third coat of concealer was swiped under your eyes. Thankfully you could blame your appearance on extra stress at work with this group of people.
Jongho, however, saw right through your lies. He waited for the last of the stylists to leave the small dressing room before questioning you.
"I didn't send you home early just for you to stay up just as late working, you know," he started, leaning on the counter filled with makeup and hair products in front of you. "You were supposed to be resting."
"I know." Your eyes dropped to where you were spinning your father's ring around your thumb, unable to meet Jongho's disappointed gaze. "Something just came up, I didn't mean to lose so much sleep."
"Something new with the case?" he asked, worried that you had received a not so positive update on the money disappearance.
"No, no. It had nothing to do with that. Don't worry it's all taken care of for now." You weren't sure if your words were meant to reassure him or you at this point.
"And what exactly was it that insisted taking your hours of rest?" He was being persistent, noticing that something was slightly off about the way you were talking around the events of last night. Usually you would just tell him about the project that required your immediate attention, but you were doing your best to stay vague enough without having to lie.
"Just an annoying little altercation. It's fine, really Jongho. I'll even go home early again today to actually get the extra rest." You threw in a small smile, hoping your behavior could be deemed normal enough for him to let it go.
"Don't lie to me."
Shit.
"What do you-"
"I'm not stupid, y/n. You've been acting weird ever since I picked you up that day from the hospital. Getting distracted, always on edge. You got another new phone days after we replaced your last one. So cut the crap and tell me what exactly is going on."
Be careful. Tell him enough half-truths to satisfy him.
"I think..." you paused, sifting through your words until you found ones that wouldn't make you sound like a complete basket case. "I think somebody is stalking me."
"You what? Is it that guy that was at the hospital? He looked odd, I swear if I ever see him again I'll-"
"Jongho," you interrupted. "No, not him." You needed to keep Hongjoong out of the conversation, knowing you wouldn't be able to lie yourself out of explaining him. Instead, you focused on directing Jongho's attention elsewhere. "I don't know who this guy is, he just keeps showing up. Following me at night. He got into my parking garage last night..."
"And you didn't call me?!" He was in utter disbelief at your indifferent attitude. "Or the police? Jesus, you could've gotten hurt!" If only he knew... "We have to get you a body guard or something. I'll call security while you have your picture taken. They'll want a description of your stalker. Anything you can tell them. Have you seen him up close?" His mind was going a million miles a minute, frantically throwing together a list of people to call.
"I'll be fine, Jongho. Just some crazy guy that probably thinks I'll fall in love and give them money. I can handle it." You did your best to minimize the effects of your sudden confession, not wanting to add anything else to your already overflowing plate.
"This is you handling it?" Jongho's voice had gotten quiet, a tone he saved for when he was truly being sincere. "Y/n, I've seen you overworked, exhausted, burnt out. This-" his eyes trailed down your body, taking note of how you sat as if you were caving in on yourself. "This isn't that. This goes deeper. What happened last night?"
Your face drained of color, too slow in trying to cover up your response to his question. You were doing your best to push the vivid images of last night’s attack out of your mind, desperately clinging to the few facts you could reveal to Jongho.
“He tried cornering me as I waited for the elevator, talking complete nonsense I couldn’t make sense of anything he said. Somebody else showed up and he ran away. Just strartled me, that’s all.” Your story was weak and you knew it. You could feel Jongho picking apart your sentences, his silence only adding to the weight of the room.
“Did he touch you?”
“Jongho-“
“Did he touch you?” You had never heard Jongho speak like this. His voice was like rolling thunder, barely controlled, pressure building beneath the surface.
“Yes,” you breathed your response. You were too scared to look at the man in front of you, unsure of if his anger was directed at you or the stalker you spoke of. The partial story you gave him was starting to sound just as bad as the truth. You had to dig yourself out of this hole. And quickly.
“It happened so quickly.” Finally a truth. “I fought him off, then my neighbor showed up and he ran.” Close enough… “I just.. had to process everything before going to sleep. You know how much I overthink. I’m okay, seriously.” You were beginning to convince yourself with the words that poured from your mouth. You were never one to let things unsettle you for too long. Time was a precious resource. There was always a solution to every one of your problems. Surely you find a solution to this one as well.
“The security comments stand. I’m finding you a body guard.” Jongho didn’t beat around the bush. Your safety was now his top priority. In fact, he was still upset at himself that he hadn’t asked you what was wrong earlier. He could’ve prevented last night had he not been so terrified of being on the receiving end of one of you verbal lashings.
“There’s no sweet talking you out of this one is there?”
“Not a chance.”
____
After your confession earlier, Jongho took it upon himself to drive you home. Even going as far as to walk you to your door, only leaving after promising him you would notify him if you left for any reason before he came to pick you up the next day for work.
Your apartment had begun to feel foreign to you having been weeks since you had done anything other than shower and sleep here. The fridge was nearly empty, only housing a few condiments and a bottle of wine you had purchased months ago. It was bound to be a long evening having nothing to do but sit with your thoughts.
Another shower helped release some of the tension that had become almost permanent knots in your muscles. The wine, you decided, was just in your glass to coax a little more relaxation out of your exhausted mind and body.
At around seven, you decided to finally place an order for delivery from your favorite restaurant around the corner. You thought you would take the night off from fearing for your life, and you knew Jongho would be tracking your location, having made you share it with him before he left your doorstep earlier. Plus you just didn't have it in you to explain why you needed to leave the safety of your apartment for a bowl of noodles. Instead you lounged happily on your couch, mind numbing reality television playing on your living room TV as you waited for the notification that your food had been delivered.
When the fated ding sounded from where you had thrown your phone a few cushions away, you dragged your pajama clad body to the door, ready to dig into the small feast you had accidentally ordered. As you bent down to collect the bag your brows furrowed, noticing a thick envelope leaning against the wall next to your door. There was no writing on it, no indication of if it was even for you.
Alarms were sounding in your ears, red flags flashing behind your eyes with every blink. You shouldn't touch it. You should call somebody, send a message to your team asking if somebody dropped this off. But you were now in a committed relationship with making questionable decisions, so you plucked the envelope off of your doorstep and tucked it under your arm as you carried your food to the coffee table in front of your couch.
It took a little while longer before you gathered the courage to open the envelope. Your meal had been cleaned up for at least twenty minutes and another glass of wine was poured before you undid the string that held the packet closed. You carefully slid out the stack of papers within, carefully placing them on your lap.
Your eyes scanned the cover page, reading and rereading the line of text you were met with.
Classified Documents Enclosed: All individuals handling this information are required to protect it from unauthorized disclosure in the interest of Jeong Co. & all affiliated companies.
What in the absolute hell is this?
Your curiosity won over common sense as you quickly started thumbing through the pages. Account statements, emails, text messages - page after page of personal information flitted by as you attempted to string together what it all meant.
And then you saw it. A text message thread - names redacted.
█████ ████████: Is everything ready? We are ready to send
███ ███████: All clear. No paper trail. Phone will be deactivated tonight - you know how to reach me
█████ ████████: Perfect. Pleasure doing business
The money. All of this is evidence. Somebody was piecing it all together, but why did they send it to me anonymously? Why not submit it to the team that was investigating? It must not have been legally obtained. It was the only feasible reason for dropping this off at your doorstep without warning. Great.. another headache to untangle.
You nearly fell off the couch when your phone suddenly started ringing, you thoughts scattering as you stretched across the cushions to reach it. The bright screen flashed Yunho's name, his timing impeccable as always. You debated sending it to voicemail, unsure of his reason for calling. For all you knew he could be reporting yet another disaster for you to have to clean up. Against your better judgement, you swiped your thumb across the bottom of the screen before pressing the phone up to your ear.
"Hello?" You put on your best everything is totally fine and I am so not freaking out about anything right now voice, hoping it was slightly more believable considering he couldn't see you.
"Hey, y/n! Hope I'm not interrupting anything." You could hear some shuffling around on his end before he continued, "uh, I just didn't get a chance to see you today, and I uh... I know it's your birthday so I just wanted to wish you a... a happy birthday."
Right. Today is my birthday.
You had managed to go the entire day without thinking about it. It was a new personal record, really. Not going into the office was a blessing in disguise you supposed, easily avoiding the well wishes from your employees. Jongho knew better than to mention it during your time spent together. And you had already gotten the pleasantries out of the way with your grandmother on Sunday.
You knew Yunho just meant well, probably even beating himself up over not saying it earlier in the day. Which is exactly why you reached deep within yourself to muster up an appropriate response that wouldn't come off as rude.
"Oh, thanks Yunho. It's really sweet of you to call."
"I'm just happy to know you weren't holed up in your office all day. Hope you were off doing something actually enjoyable," he chuckled.
"Um, I wouldn't say enjoyable. Had to take a few pictures for an article and Jongho refused to let me back in the office afterwards so I've just been sitting at home." Your fingers found a loose thread in the blanket that was draped across your legs, mindlessly twirling it back and forth as you spoke.
"Remind me to thank him next time I see him. You deserve the rest."
You did your best to ignore the small flutter in your chest at his words. Knowing he also cared about your wellbeing was an odd realization. One that you refused to dwell on as you remembered everything else you were currently dealing with.
"Don't worry, I'm actually taking the night off. Glass of wine in hand, laying on my couch, trash TV playing, the whole thing." You gathered the papers that were still sprawled across the couch as you spoke, pinching your phone between your shoulder and ear so that you could slide them back into the envelope.
"Wow, I'm so proud of you. I didn't know you were capable of such a feat!"
As you tossed the packet back onto the coffee table your phone gave two short buzzes indicating an incoming text message.
"Shoot, one sec Yun. Let me see who this is real quick."
You swiped out of your call and opened the messaging app, sending a silent prayer that it wasn't anything that needed your immediate attention. Maybe it was just one of those automatic messages telling you about a free appetizer you can claim for your birthday. Anything would have been better than what was waiting for you.
Unknown Number: Happy birthday, sweetheart. I'll see you soon
You hadn't saved the number, didn't feel the need to save his number. You had deleted the text chain immediately after unboxing your second new phone.
"You still there?" Yunho's voice drifted through the speaker, slicing through your daze in an instant.
"Yeah, sorry." You quickly clicked back to your call with him, attempting to once again push the ever invasive thoughts of Hongjoong back to the recesses of your mind.
"All good, everything okay?" His voice was tinged with worry.
"Yeah, just another mess to clean up," you forced a laugh. "Nothing new."
And as Yunho carried the conversation back to the show you had thrown on for the night, you couldn't stop Hongjoong from creeping back into the forefront of your mind. What did he mean he'd see you soon? And how did he know it was your birthday?
CH. 1
Pairing: Shifter!San x demi-Fae!Reader (eventual OT8)
Word Count: 7.4 k
Summary: Aurorion - The Sunrise City. Where magic and technology blend together. Where Deihan–the immortals, Fae, Shifters, Angels–and humans live together in a unique harmony. As a demi-Fae, you fit somewhere in-between, but this city is your home, your heart, your soul. Days are spent working in the Fae Archive. Nights are spent partying and dancing until you're passed out in the bed of whichever male you followed home; though more often than not, you end up beside San, your best friend, your lover, your constant. You know your place in life, and you're content with it. For now.
Warnings: NSFW, Explicit sexual content, kissing, teasing, slight degradation, mild d/s vibes, mention of breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, multiple orgasms,
Chapter Masterlist coming soon
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
A/N: this is a shameless rip off of Crescent City. I don't care. I wanna write urban fantasy ATEEZ.
You hum along to the music that plays from the crackling radio beside you. The wards that protect the Fae Archive, and the ancient tomes and artifacts housed within, block out most technology, but the signal from the nearby radio station is rudimentary enough for the magic to ignore. Computers don't work inside the building, and your phone turns into a useless brick, but you at least have music to keep you entertained during your long shifts.
It's a slow day–an unusually slow one. Most of your time is spent cataloguing books and testing relics for authenticity. But the Archive hasn't received a new shipment this week, and you don't expect to get one for a while now. Not with the Solstice Festival this weekend, and not after what happened at the Sunrise Temple earlier this month.
The Aurorion Auxiliary hasn't released much information, but you've managed to get some information out of your best friend. San's pack runs routine AurAux patrols in the area near the temple, and he mentioned something being stolen. He wouldn't say what exactly, but you have a few ideas. The temple houses some old pieces from when Aurorion was first established, some several thousand years ago by the first Fae to land on the continent. However, you can't fathom why anyone would steal such old, dusty antiques, since according to the Archive's records, nothing at the temple was of any worth beyond sentimental.
With thoughts of San, you check the time, glancing up at the analog wall clock. It's not even noon yet. You heave out a sigh of annoyance. You still have more than an hour before you get to see him like you do every Friday for your standing lunch date. He's not your boyfriend, not exactly. He's your best friend, has been since you moved into the city proper during your second year of high school. The two of you have always been basically joined at the hip, only separated by your own duties as Fae nobility, and his role within his shifter pack. You didn't start hooking up until college. The both of you attended Sunrise City University together, and the first time you slept with him was a drunken accident. So was the second time. And the third. By the fourth, you couldn't deny that the two of you were down bad for each other.
But commitment was not your style. Not in the way San wanted. Not yet. You know you could be happy with him. In fact, a small part of you looks forward to the day where you're finally able to tell him yes. To the day, once you've both Ascended, when you can look at him and see not just Choi San, your best friend and lover, but Choi San, your Mate. You may only be demi-Fae, your Deihan blood diluted by your human ancestry, but that feral instinct to find your mate exists somewhere deep within you. You can ignore it for now, but you know that once you take the leap and become truly immortal, when you give into your Fae powers, you know that the mating bond will fully set. And once it does, there's no going back. Even...even if it's not San. Even if it's some other male.
The fact that it could be someone else is what causes you to hesitate. You love San. You've loved him for years, you've admitted that both to yourself and to him. The words are easy to say, and he's said them back with the same enthusiasm and frequency. But he knows you, knows your heart–sometimes more than you know yourself it seems. Even though you haven't been able to put it into words, he understands that you crave more love than he's able to give alone. And maybe it will be different when you find your mate. Maybe your heart will finally be satisfied. But until then, you have San, your best friend and lover, and whichever males happen to catch your eye in the meantime.
Your stomach lets out a low rumble of hunger, and you know you won't be able to focus on the task at hand while you're this hungry. You shove aside the pile of documents you were supposed to be authenticating. The old Fae language is scribbled in messy handwriting, and you aren't even able to read most of the old ink, so you don't even know why it was given to you. Part of you wonders if your boss is being pressured by your father to make your work as miserable as possible. If so, it's working.
Habit has you reaching into your purse for your phone, but the screen won't even turn on while you're this deep in the building. The wards make sure of that. Your father in particular makes sure of that. He upholds Fae tradition to an annoyingly intense degree. Several archivists, both from Aurorion and from the old continent, have tried telling him that the wards can be adjusted to allow for technology to work while still maintaining their protective nature. But does he listen? Of course not. He insists on keeping things difficult, always has. You can't fathom what your mother ever saw in him.
You drop your phone back into your bag. You've just about decided that you're willing to watch paint dry just for something to do when you hear a gentle knock at the door. You have a few coworkers that also work in the back of the Archive, though they typically don't have any need to pester you except when they need something translated from the old language.
"Come in!" you say over your shoulder.
His wolf-scent hits you immediately, the drafty hallways of the Archive move the air quickly through the doorway. You spin around in a second, his name already forming on your lips.
"San-ie!"
In a few quick strides, you're in his arms. He holds you close, burying his face into your hair, breathing in your scent and letting out a happy sigh. Every reunion with him is like this, no matter how long you've been apart. Which, unfortunately, has been often lately. He's been pulled in every direction trying to figure out what happened at the temple, while still maintaining his usual patrol with his pack. And you've been stuck here, getting your soul drained day after day working at the Archive.
"What are you doing here?" you ask. "We aren't supposed to meet for another hour. Aren't the pack alphas getting strict about patrols?"
San's hands settle on your waist. "Yeah, but I wanted to see you." You now notice that his cheeks are a little flushed, and he's a little out of breath. It makes you wonder how fast he ran to get here this early. "And I needed somewhere to put my gym bag, and you never use your locker."
"That's fine. I don't even think I remember the combination anymore," you mutter. And then you give him a look. "So are you actually here for me or just to store your shit?"
He returns the look. "Am I not allowed to visit you at work?" he asks, a teasing challenge in his tone.
You roll your eyes. "You're always allowed to see me at work," you tell him. "Except when it's raining. My coworkers don't like it when you come in smelling like wet dog."
His features contort, displaying his offense at your words. "I never smell like wet dog, y/n. How dare you say such a thing?"
You giggle at his dramatic tone. "When you've been in wolf form all day, running down the streets in inclement weather, you do get a little stinky." Though your words are laced with teasing, there is plenty of honesty in them. You nose isn't nearly as powerful as a full blooded Fae, like your coworkers, but it's sensitive enough. And when San, or any canine shifter really, gets their coat soaked, it tends to be very noticeable and hard to ignore. It clings to them even when they shift back into their two-legged form.
He's pouting at you now. It's a look you're incredibly fond of, and you can't help but reach up and press a kiss to his cheek. He takes full advantage of your invitation of intimacy and turns his head so he can properly kiss you. His hands tighten on your waist, making sure you don't pull away, not that you had intentions of doing so. Your lips melt against his, and you sigh into his mouth. His lips move on yours, deepening the kiss, and you feel his tongue teasing its way in. You happily let him in, savoring the taste of his mouth as his tongue explores beyond your lips.
You press your body closer until you're completely flush with him. Your arms wrap around his neck, clinging to him with more desperation than you usually show. He's been so busy with the AurAux and his pack that even though you spend most nights in bed with him, there hasn't been much time for anything like this. You've hooked up with others on occasion, but you've been craving San after not having him for the last few weeks.
But you remember where you are, and you pull away from the kiss. Not far, not out of reach, just enough so you can speak. Your lips ghost against his through your words.
"San-ie," you whisper, hearing the heavy need in your voice. "Not here." The walls of the Archive are thick, solid stone. Sound doesn't travel easily through it. Even with heightened senses, the others in the building shouldn't be able to hear you, not with where your workstation is, but the risk of getting caught is still present. And the two of you are one more incident away from your father banning San from the premises permanently.
He closes the distance between you again. The kiss is clumsy, landing on the side of your mouth. He doesn't seem to notice. "I need you, y/n." He peppers a few kisses on your cheeks and then moves down to give your neck some attention. You can't help but tilt your head back to let him.
You curse under your breath when you feel his hands move over you. Your breath catches when his fingers find the hem of your shirt and slip under to brush across your stomach. You whimper out his name again, but you don't tell him to stop. You don't want him to stop. His hands move up, fingers coming into contact with your bra. A low growl of annoyance rumbles from his chest at the lack of easy access to your breasts. If it were up to him, you'd wear nothing underneath your clothes, allowing him to touch you with no barrier or interruption.
He moves his hand around to your back to undo the clasp, but you grab his arm, stopping him. He pulls back to give you a look, as if to say really? Rolling your eyes, you shake your head, telling him no, the bra stays. He sighs, but obeys your silent command. You've told him a thousand times what a hassle it is to get it on and off, especially if you need to appear presentable in seconds, gods forbid someone walks in on you.
You guide his hand back around to your front, placing his palm right over the button of your jeans. His breath is hot on your face as he quickly gets them undone, shoving them midway down your thighs. He pauses for a moment to breathe in the scent of your arousal, and you can see the satisfaction in his smug expression. Any other male you might berate for such behavior, but you'll make an exception for San.
He nudges you back a few steps until your back comes into contact with one of the sturdy shelves that houses rows and rows of organized Fae documents. You know you can trust it to support your weight. This isn't the first time San has done this exact thing here, and it certainly won't be the last. He's taken you on most surfaces; against the shelves, the walls, over your desk. And while the two of you have broken a bed frame or two, you know these shelves will hold.
San squeezes your thigh and nudges your legs apart with his knee. You open for him, biting your lip as you stare up at him. You know your cheeks are flushed red, and you can already feel yourself beginning to pant with need. A whimper escapes you when you feel his fingers tease at your already soaked thong. The small strip of fabric is easily moved aside for him to caress between your folds. You can already feel your pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled.
San lets out a satisfied grunt at your warm wetness. "All this for me?" he asks, leaning in close to press a kiss on you neck. He purrs into your ear, "Answer me, y/n."
You whimper and nod, trying to grind on his hand for any kind of friction. "Y-yes, San-ie," you manage to get out. "For you."
He kisses you neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. He's bitten you before, left countless marks all over you. Some are easier to hide than others. Though there has been a few times where you've begged him to leave his mark on you just so you could show it off. Usually to piss off your father.
He moans your name, his voice a low rumble in your ears. His fingers move with intention, gliding through your slick, teasing at your entrance. You let out a soft gasp when he slowly presses one into you. Your walls flutter at the feeling, but you still need so much more.
"San," you moan quietly. "More."
"Where are your manners, baby?"
You whine, the words difficult to find while his fingers go still. Your thighs are shaking, fighting to keep you up. You lean most of your weight onto him, needing him to keep you upright. You try to move against the hand that's between your legs, but he takes the other one and pins your hip against the shelf, holding you still.
"You were being such a good girl," he whispers, his lips trailing over your neck. "What happened?"
"Mmm...I am good," you mumble. "San-ieee, please."
He pulls back and angles his head to the side. He looks so much like the wolf he is when he does that. It makes your already weak knees turn into jelly underneath you. His eyes are predatory as he looks you over, as he takes in your desperation. You stare up at him, a pout on your lips, and bat your eyelashes at him. His lip twitches just slightly, the only indication that what you're doing is having an effect on him. You could be smug about that, let it show that you know you've won. But that might have the opposite effect. So instead, you double down.
"Please, San," you beg, letting yourself whine. "Please please please."
And just like that, he folds. He leans back in, covering your mouth with his. He breathes a moan into your mouth, a sound of primal need from the back of his throat. His hand begins moving again, a second finger finds its way into you, pressing deep. His fingers curl perfectly to give some much needed attention to your favorite spot. Your reaction is instant, and you let out a moan, half formed words fumble out of your mouth.
He keeps his fingers moving, pulling them out slightly before burying them deeper and deeper each time. And if that wasn't enough, his thumb finds your clit. The sensitive bud is already swollen with arousal, and the first brush of his fingertip sends a bolt of lightning up your body. The pleasure is blinding and nearly enough to make you finish instantly. San seems to sense this because he immediately backs off. He slows his fingering and moves his thumb in lazy circles, carefully avoiding the aching bundle of nerves.
Your heart is racing in your chest, and your breaths come out in uneven pants. Your head is dizzy with pleasure, and you know satisfaction is right around the corner. But you're all too familiar with how San works. You know he won't stop at giving you one orgasm. He probably won't even stop at two, if you're lucky. And he's going to draw this first one out for as long as time allows. You don't know when he has to leave to go back on patrol. It could be in ten minutes, or it could be in two hours. Either way, he'll keep his hands on you or in you the entire time.
He kisses you slowly, lazily, but not without intent. His lips move in time with his fingers. Every part of him that is in contact with you is moving like a dance, to a rhythm only he knows. It's not a beat you can follow, not now. Not with how horny and dazed you are. All you can do is let your body go limp, and let him keep you upright while he plays with you.
He coaxes the orgasm out of you with surprising gentleness. Your body shudders as pleasure pulses through your veins. You feel your walls tighten around him while he continues to finger you. You let moans slip out, your throat almost forms coherent words, you're almost able to say his name. But most of it is just soft, whiny babbling.
"That's it, baby," he croons softly, praising you for your performance.
As you come down from the high of finishing, he slowly removes his fingers. You feel empty without them, but you don't have time to think about that because all you can focus on now is how he brings his hand to his own mouth. You watch, unable to look away, as he licks your slick. His tongue swirls around his finger, not wasting a drop. His eyes dart to yours, catching you watch him. There's a gleam of wickedness in how he smirks at you.
"Open." The word is short, curt. Not a request, not a question. An order. A firm one at that. His tone leaves little room for disobedience. There's something about the way he says it that speaks to that primal part of you. The part of you that craves a mating bond. The part of you that calls back to the feral beasts your Fae blood hails from.
And you can't resist it. Not right now. Not while you're dripping with need still, while you can feel the walls of your pussy clenching around nothing. You let your jaw go slack, let your mouth fall open. The same fingers that were just buried in your cunt are now pressed against your tongue. A lesser female might choke on the size of his fingers, but you've always prided yourself in the skill of your mouth. You moan around him and suck on his middle and ring finger. You can taste yourself, taste the arousal that San drew out from you. It's almost intoxicating, and you can understand why the males you bed get drunk off your pussy.
"Good girl," San says, continuing with the praise. You bask in it, need more of it. You suck on his fingers, wanting to prove even more how good of a girl you can be. A pleased growl rumbles in his chest at your display. He keeps his hand in place for a few moments longer before pulling away. Your split and slick still cling to him, but he pays it no mind. Now it's your mouth that feels empty, and you're seconds away from sinking to your knees to take another piece of him. You're further encouraged by the quick sound of his zipper.
But you're stopped from moving by his hands finding your waist again. He lifts you up, just a little bit at first, mostly to get your attention back. You blink up at him, and you're met once again with the gaze of a predator. His knees nudge at your thighs again, and his question, though unspoken, is loud and clear. You nod, giving your complete, continuing consent.
Your tighten your arms over his shoulders, latching around his neck. He lifts you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your bodies know each other's just as well as your own. His cock knows right where to go, drawn to your slit like a magnet. He grinds his tip against your clit, smearing his warm precum over the sensitive spot. You moan at the smooth friction of the movement. You're starting to pant again, and you're mere seconds away from pleading for him to fuck you.
San spares you from begging for his cock. He slides into you, meeting little resistance. You're so wet still, practically dripping, that you take him easily. Your pussy stretches around his thick shaft, your walls fluttering in excitement at the friction you're met with. Or lack thereof. San presses himself in deeper, keeping his movements slow to allow your body to adjust as needed. He's fully aware of his size, and when he first inserts himself each time, he always makes sure to not go to fast, to not hurt you. He would never hurt you.
A groan works his way out of him once he's fully buried in your warmth. He nuzzles your cheek with his, a gesture of affection that is so primal and purely animal. You can't help it, can't stop the soft purr that builds in your own throat. Only like this, only when a male is doing these things to you, do you find yourself unable to resist your Fae nature. But San doesn't seem to mind hearing it, he never does. In fact, you feel him begin to move, as if encouraged by your soft ferality.
He pulls out, not far, not even half way; just far enough that you can feel when he presses back in. You moan as he moves, your noises hitching when the tip of his cock hits your very core. You've seen how big he is, you've held him in your hands, taken him in your mouth. You still impress yourself every time you take all of him. It's like your pussy was made, designed by something divine, to envelop him.
Thinking becomes difficult when he moves again, and when he finds a rhythm and begins to thrust at a steady pace? Thought become fucking impossible. All you care about is where you end and where San begins. The only coherent thing going through your mind is his name. It's a chant that your consciousness repeats every time his cock hits its mark–San San San.
You've been fucked in countless ways. In beds. On the floor. The back of cabs. Once even in the middle of your favorite club while everyone else danced around you, none the wiser. You've seen the best and worst of males, allowed yourself to be used in any way they please. You're not ashamed of it, not one bit. You love the attention, love the feeling of letting yourself give into the pleasure.
But there's something about how San fucks you. It's not lost on you that this is still just a booty call. That he showed up at your workplace with the goal of getting into your pants, intending to leave and go about the rest of his day once he's done. But there's so much more to him that that. It's not just because he's a male, and you're the female he's decided he wants as his Mate. It's not that you're friends with incredible benefits. He respects you. Even when his cock, hard and throbbing, is inside of you, he respects you. More than that, he worships you. With all that he is–body and mind.
Being demi-Fae, society already has a preconceived opinion of you. Humans see you as an oddity. Similar to them, but alien enough that you don't quite fit in. But the Deihan? Those born with pure magic in their veins? The Angels with their gods-given superiority complexes? You've witnessed their sneers your entire life. It's the Fae, your flesh and blood, that stings the most. Though some of them, only once they learn of your heritage, regard you as they might regard the offspring of a prized dog–not an award winner herself, but perhaps a bitch they can breed to bring forth the next generation of champions.
But not San. Never San. You are something precious to him, something to be treasured. With him, you never doubt your worth. Even when strangers see you with him, and you know they can smell the scent of other males on you, judgement burning in their eyes. He pays them no mind, his focus always on you. Always on loving you. Even the parts you struggle to love about yourself.
He's moaning loudly in your ear now. His movements are turning frenzied, desperate. Each thrust gets rougher and rougher, and you feel the shelf digging into your back. The pain against your spine is second only to the pleasure that's flooding your every cell. You dig your nails into his back. Your acrylics have shredded through his skin before, but his Shifter body heals remarkably fast, even without him Ascending yet.
"Fuck, y/n," he groans out, words finally making their way out of him. His shoulder muscles roll under where your nails are. You can tell the pain of your grip is only adding to his pleasure, and you press harder. You wish you had the claws of a Shifter, talons to latch onto him and never let go.
Until now, he's had both of his hands on your hips, keeping you in place, at the proper height to fuck deeply and surely. But his composure is crumbling. One hand flies out beside you, and a screech of metal bending pulls you out of your sex filled daze for a moment. Just long enough for you to see where his hand grips the shelf's support beam, his fingers digging into the metal like it's putty. You knew San was strong, but this is another level. And fuck, you find it really hot.
Your tighten your legs around his waist, having to hold yourself up at least a little bit, since he only has one hand still on you. Your roll your hips in time with his frantic thrusting. Your motions make his movements that much deeper. You know you're close. You know he is too. You can feel it. The heat is building in your core, the fires of your shared thrill are reaching a boiling point. And it's only a matter of time now before both of you melt into each other.
Somehow San is able to find your mouth again. His breath hot against yours, and you can feel your name on his lips. You moan against him, needing him to swallow the noise, to devour your sounds. You need his tongue. Need even more of him inside of you. You coax it between your teeth and suck on it once you have it where you want. He curls it against the roof of your mouth, tasting you, savoring you. A small part of you wonders if he's still able to detect the slick he made you taste.
"Mmmclose," he says against your lips, your kiss interrupted only for that second.
You can only whimper in agreement. You can't speak, your mouth is too busy, and the part of your brain that controls speech might as well not exist. Not while every other synapse is being out-shined by the ones that handle the pleasure centers.
San manages to pull out almost all the way, only to bury himself in completely again. He repeats this, over, over, and over. The sound of your bodies meeting, the sound of your slick, messy pussy being ruined, it's downright filthy. You're incredibly grateful for the thickness of the walls here, sparring your coworkers from hearing you, and sparring your from the embarrassment of knowing they've heard.
San lets out a deep growl, this one even lower than his previous noises. If he wasn't right in front of you, doing what he's doing, you would have sworn he was in his wolf form to make such a noise. And only a second too late do you realize that his growl was a warning.
He thrusts himself as far as he'll go. Somehow deeper than every prior thrust. You feel him shudder inside of you, his cock twitching, the muscle pulsing slightly as he comes. His orgasm is hot, filling you with his warmth. He pulls out a touch, and shudders again, but he's not done yet. His cock swells slightly, your walls stretch to allow for him, the pleasure blurs with pain, and you feel tears in your eyes. It hurts so good.
And he's still moving in you, still working to make sure you finish too. Each time he pulls out, you feel some of his release leak out and drip down your thighs. You keep a package of wet-wipes at your desk exactly for this reason. The two of you tend to make a mess of each other. You'll need it when you're done.
The walls of your pussy flutter and pulse around his still swollen length. You roll your hips. The angle isn't quite right, but you're almost riding him like this. You move yourself, chasing your own pleasure. In the short moments before you come, you don't care about San. Don't care about how overstimulated he might be. You're faintly aware of him letting out a half gasp, half whimper. Your walls tighten around him, squeezing hard, clamping down like a vice. He lets out a string of pathetic noises as his cock twitches again, and your pussy milks another release out of him. He's shaking between your legs now, and fuck, that does it for you.
Stars implode behind your eyes as an orgasm courses through you. You feel the release travel at light speed through your veins. It makes you a little light headed. The panting breaths you're taking don't help matters. You should open your eyes, but seeing the world spinning might make matters worse. Fuck, you feel good. A giggle slips out of you, a near manic sound.
San's lips are on your neck a moment later, and he's whispering gentle words, soft praises. You hear several good girl's and a few deep breaths, baby. You try to obey, and it's difficult at first, but eventually the oxygen finds your lungs. Slowly, your head stops spinning, and the ringing in your ears goes quiet. You can hear your shared breaths, and both of your erratic heartbeats, and still playing music on your desk is the radio.
Only when your feet touch the ground do you realize that San pulled out of you several moments ago. You already miss the feeling of him between your legs, but you're comforted in knowing you'll have him again soon enough. Possibly tonight if his afternoon patrol doesn't kick his ass.
San presses a kiss to the top of your head. His hands squeeze your shoulders before slowly pulling away. You sway a little bit, but keep your balance, though you're relying heavily on the shelf to keep upright. He seems confident enough that you won't fall, and he steps towards your desk. In the second drawer, behind a box of tampons, he pulls out the aforementioned pack of wipes. He makes quick work of wiping you both up. He's gentle with you, knowing how sensitive the skin of your thighs can be afterwards.
You hum along to the song playing on the radio. The music helps ground you even more, your post sex daze fading. You can hear San humming too when he moves close to help get your jeans back on, knowing you struggle with the button sometimes.
"You know this song, San-ie?" you ask quietly.
His smile is shy, almost boyish. "I, uh, yeah." The blush that creeps along his cheeks is too fresh to be from the sex you just had.
You angle your head to the side. "You're being weird."
Oh, yeah. He's definitely blushing about the song. "I'm surprised you don't know why I know this song."
You move against him, bumping his shoulder with yours. "Why would you? It's not your taste." It's true. It's too singer-songwriter. Honestly, it's not even your favorite kind of music, but it's catchy.
"It played at that party," he says.
You blink in confusion at him. "Which party?"
He gives you a look. "You know which party, y/n."
"San, I've been to hundreds of parties," you say. "At least a third of them have been with you. You need to be more specific."
"Jackson's party," he says. "SCU. Spring fling, freshman year."
You wrack your brain, trying to remember the exact occasion he's referencing. Most of your time at the university was a blur of lectures and alcohol. You partied your way through two years of classes, showing up to class hungover more often than not. Somehow still managing to get your degree in half the usual time. You barely slept in your own dorm, and you can't even remember your roommate's name. If you weren't hooking up with someone on the sunball team, then you were usually sleeping in San's bed. But freshman year? It wasn't until after spring break that you–
"This played at the frat party," you say, repeating his earlier words. "The one where we–" It's your turn to blush. Which is an ironic thing to do, considering he just finished cleaning up his cum from all over your legs.
He kisses your warm cheek, a smile on his lips. "Yeah, y/n. That party." He pulls you into his arms, turning you around his your back is flush with his chest. You feel safe like this. Protected. Loved. "This song was playing when I finally worked up the courage to ask you to meet me somewhere quiet."
You smile and giggle at the fuzzy memory. You were both drunk, borderline shit faced. You know you had been flirting with any male who would look at you, even taking a shot at Jongho, San's slightly younger cousin, before the latter cornered you, suggesting you come outside. You were giggling then, too, when you followed San out to the backyard of the frat house. It was quieter out there, thought the music was still blasting from inside, having switched to some electronic beat. Hidden behind a garden shed, it felt like the two of you were in your own little world.
You don't remember what was said, if anything. Or who moved first. But somehow you ended up kissing and eventually stumbling back to his dorm. There was a shared regret the following morning, and a promise to not have it happen again, not wanting to risk your friendship. That promise was broken a week later at another party. And then a third time before the month was up.
You close your eyes and lean your head back against his chest. You love him. Love your relationship with him. Love that your friendship hasn't been diminished by the fact that you regularly have sex. He's not your boyfriend, he doesn't need to be. He's not your Mate, though he could be, and you wouldn't mind it at all. He understands you like only a rare few ever have. And you love him for it.
You open your mouth to speak, to tell him how you love him, but a sharp noise from the radio interrupts you before you can get anything out. It's a jarring noise, not quite a siren, but close. It's supposed to catch your attention, to make sure you listen to the announcement to follow.
'Good afternoon, Sunrise City!' The radio host is as enthusiastic as always. 'What a beautiful weekend it's looking out to be for this year's Summer Solstice. Our good friends and winged protectors from Sector 1 have some important updates to share with you all living and visiting the lovely Aurorion.'
You feel San tense around you at the mention of Sector 1. He runs patrols for the AurAux, which is basically the city's first line of defense. The pack Shifters are the peacekeepers of the neighborhoods, handling low level crime prevention duties. But it's the Angels of Sector 1 who have the final word in law enforcement. Their authority is divinely granted, their orders coming not from other Deihan, but from the Halazim themselves.
The Shifters have their packs, loyal to their alphas, and answer to their Prime–the strongest of them. The Fae have their courts, and live under the rule of their kings and queens–the Fae of Aurorion being the subjects of the Summer Court. The humans have no such organization, but they must submit themselves to the Deihan, follow their laws, nonetheless. The Angels are the heralds of justice, acting as both jury and executioner on the whims of the only true immortals of this world.
The Halazim are not gods, not quite. They don't require worship or sacrifice. They take no offerings, have no temples built in their name. They simply Are. They watch from their heavenly thrones, and bear the burden of ruling over a world of beasts and magic. Their sovereignty is absolute. To question them is to die. So people rarely do.
But with their rule, comes their protection. Though the Deihan have the ability to change form, to wield supernatural power, to live a millennia and never age–their magics are rarely enough to defend against the hell-born, the Demons, the beasts who wish to drain this world of its ether. It was the Halazim that defeated Hell's armies tens of thousands of years ago. The Halazim who continue to fend off the attacks from beyond the veil.
You would be grateful for their benevolence, for their watchful eyes that look out for you and yours...
If they weren't such assholes about it. If the Angels who do their bidding weren't smug and condescending, and so fucking out of touch with reality. And if they didn't constantly fuck with the AurAux patrols and make San's job a million times harder.
The radio host continues his report, 'Over the last few weeks, our city has seen an uptick in crime. I'm sure our listeners are aware of the recent murders the Fever Districts. A trusted source within Sector 1 has confirmed that the governor's office is now considering these homicides to be connected.'
San tenses behind you, but stays quiet, listening for whatever else is to be said.
'They have also confirmed that the governor himself has taken a vested interest in the recent theft that occurred at the Sunrise Temple. He is stated to be assembling a Formation to investigate.'
San actually growls this time at the news. "That asshole always sticks his nose where it doesn't belong," he says. "He's going to mess up the whole investigation the pack has been working on."
"San, it'll be okay," you say, trying to help. This isn't the first time the city's governor has interfered with AurAux business unnecessarily. You know San isn't a fan of the Angel that manages the city. In fact, he's made it incredibly clear that he hates the guy.
His arms are tight around you. He isn't gripping you hard, not hurting you at all, but you don't think you could get out of his hold easily. His heart is thudding in his chest, and you can feel it against your back. He moves his chin and buries his nose into your hair. You feel his chest expand with a deep breath. This is something he does often. When he stressed or upset, , he breathes in your scent. It calms him, he says, grounds him, reminds him of what's most important.
He relaxes after a moment, his hold on you lessening. "I should get back with the pack," he says eventually. "Figure out how we're going to deal with this."
'–no curfew in effect at this time,' the radio host continues. 'The last update of this afternoon comes from an anonymous source. Now, I know what you're thinking, Sunrise City. But I can assure you, this tip has been validated.' He pauses, perhaps making sure he has the city's full attention. Though, you don't know if anyone even listens to this station besides you and anyone else surrounded by wards.
'Last year, our Aurorion Auxiliary arrested the political extremist, Jeong Yunho. Charges included Arms-dealing, Unlawful Assembly, and Disturbing the Peace. We have just been informed that he has been cleared of all charges and is expected to be released from detainment this evening."
"Did he just say Jeong Yunho?"
You spin around in San's arms. "What did you say?" you ask once you're face to face.
He repeats the name. And it bounces around your mind like a marble in a pinball machine. Yunho Yunho Yunho. It can't be.
"He was supposed to be the big bust for the AurAux last year," San says, displeasure written all over his features. "I didn't realize they ever released his name. Remember around Hallow's Eve when the packs got assigned all those extra patrols?"
You do because you were really annoyed by it because it meant San couldn't come to Yeosang's costume party. "Yeah, you said it was a gun smuggler."
"Turned out to be a little more than that, but yeah," San says. He frowns and looks over his shoulder to the door that leads to the exit.
You pout at him. "You're leaving? What about lunch?"
San gives you a pleading look. "Baby, I promise to make it up to you," he says. "I'll bring you breakfast in bed for a week. I gotta tell the pack, figure out what we're doing about...all this."
You sigh before sneaking a quick kiss. "Okay. Fine. But I want pancakes," you say. "Stacked a meter high."
He smiles at you. "No shorter," he says, giving your waist a squeeze. "I'll see you later, okay?" He kisses your cheek before releasing you. "Love you."
"Love you, San-ie."
You're alone in the Archive again, such is fate. The radio newscast has ended and there's music again. You try to listen to the song being aired, but something else is playing in your head. Someone else. Jeong Yunho. And he won't get out. Not until you know for sure if it's the same one or not.
You grab your purse and turn off the desk lamp. You don't bother neatening up your workspace. You can do it later, the matter at hand is more important. You have to go through three different runed archways to get to the hallway that leads to the exit of the Archive. Your skin tingles under each of them, the magic of the wards in action.
It's blindingly bright outside. The summer sun in full swing, baking the city under its strong rays. You blink your eyes, trying to get them to adjust quicker. Your phone is in your hand a moment later, and you spam press the power button, hoping you're far enough away from the wards for it to work.
The screen comes on a moment later, and you impatiently tap until it responds. Your fingers are quick to open the browser and type out your search. The web icon spins for a moment while the results load, the connection slowed by the proximity to the wards. But eventually they populate. And you get your answer from the first article linked.
Jeong Yunho Terrorism Charges Dropped
And just below the title is his mugshot from when he was arrested last year. You stare at it, frozen, for a long time. It's been a decade since you've seen him. He never had social media, he didn't even have a phone when you left your mother's village to move to Aurorion. You had no way of keeping touch with your best friend. He looks so different and yet the same. Older, obviously. But still him. Still Jeong Yunho. Still your Yunho.
Finally pulling you eyes away from his image, you skim the article. There's not much publicly released for the case, just the bare bones. But it does talk about the pack that got him. It even names the Shifter that placed him under arrest. And you stare at that name longer than you stared at the picture.
Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong x Reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: Hongjoong finally drops the teasing façade and confesses the truth about the bond tying him to you, forcing you to confront just how deeply entangled you've become with him. His words blur the line between danger and something far more intimate, leaving you shaken and unsure what you truly feel. Seeking grounding, you turn to your grandmother, whose conversation brings both comfort and quiet pressure about love, fate, and the path ahead.
Warnings: emotional distress, family pressure, grief mention, anxiety, strong language
Tag List: open!
My Demon Masterlist
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
This is such a stupid idea.
You clasped your hands together as you sat in your car waiting for Hongjoong to arrive at the location he had sent last night. The conversation had been short, your need to express how irritated you were with him evident in the text messages.
And now here you sat. Your car parked in a lot edging the same cliff that hovered above the bay that had filled your lungs just two nights ago. The memories alone sent an ache through your body even though no physical evidence of your struggle had remained. You would do anything to stop feeling the ghosting of hands gripping against your legs or the lingering sting of chemicals invading your nose. Flashes of your attackers cold stare had interrupted you countless times that day. You were hoping that whatever Hongjoong's plan was tonight would bring an end to the painful distractions once and for all.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard somebody's knuckles tapping against your window. Your head whipped to the side, coming face to face with Hongjoong. His usual smirk was nowhere to be found. Instead his mouth was turned down at the corners, dark circles beginning to form under his eyes like he hasn't slept since you saw him last. He raised an eyebrow. Shit you were staring.
Your cheeks were tinged pink by the time the window rolled all the way down, the cool night breeze helping to cool your burning skin.
"Walk with me," he stated flatly. You weren't given the opportunity to respond before he had turned and made his way towards a pathway nearby. Quickly, you shut off your car and stepped out to follow.
"Why are we here?" you asked once you had finally caught up to him. Your strides matched his for a few steps before he moves to snatch your arm. Your body immediately tensed, unable to decipher if he was a threat or not. Your instinct was to fight back, yanking against his grip with all of your strength. Ice filled your veins as you felt hit grip get tighter. Suddenly it was like you were in the backseat of the car again, the weight of your attacker's body pressing against you.
"It's still there?" he asked. His grip released, but his hand still hovered hesitantly over your arm.
His question snapped you out of your spiral with dizzying efficiency. However, it took a moment for the words to unscramble themselves which caused you to stand there, your wide-eyed gaze fixed on Hongjoong's face that was much closer than you had realized.
"The tattoo," he added on after your lack of response, "you still have it?"
"Of course I still have it," you replied, shoving the embarrassment of the last ten seconds back down. "It's a tattoo Hongjoong, how on earth would I lose it?"
"You humans tend to surprise me in the worst ways." His eyes flicked down to your arm where you noticed his fingers twitch, ghosting the fabric of your long-sleeved blouse. He was hesitant to touch you again considering how you had just responded, but something deep within him was screaming at him to check that the marking was in fact where he had last seen it.
"Why do you keep calling me human? Is this some weird superiority complex thing that I should be worried about?"
You watched as Hongjoong considered your question, his lips flattening into a tight line as he carefully chose his next words. "I'll explain everything once we get there," he said, finally pulling away from you and starting off down the path once again. Of course you would never get a real answer out of him that easily, how silly of you for even thinking it was a possibility at this point.
With the promise of a potential explanation you continued to follow him further down the winding path. You could still faintly smell the water nearby, even through the dense cropping of trees that stood between the bay and where you now were. Lampposts scattered shadows across the paved ground as you struggled to keep up with Hongjoong's long strides.
"Where exactly are we going?" You couldn't stop the twinge of anxiety from edging it's way through your body. You sort of were following a man that could still be considered a stranger to an unknown location and had definitely failed to mention to anybody where you were going tonight. The only comforting thought you could conjure up was that you had shared your location with Jongho when he first started working for you, so at least he could help locate your body if this did indeed head south.
"Somewhere private," Hongjoong answered, not exactly helping ease your mind.
"The empty parking lot we started in wasn't private enough?" You pressed, growing impatient with his incessant need for the theatrics
"No," he replied flatly. It took everything within you to suppress the groan that built deep within you, instead choosing to silently roll your eyes. "You can stop grumbling back there, we're here."
"I am not grumbling," you countered immediately, which didn't exactly help your case.
"Your footsteps turned into stomps about forty-five seconds ago, sweetheart." Hongjoong came to a stop where the path ended at a decently sized lookout area. A couple of benches lined the clearing looking out into the bay below. You could clearly hear the waves softly lapping at the shore now, the scent of seawater filling your lungs as you took the last few steps to where he now stood.
You trained your breath to stay even, shoving every memory of what had happened on the road nearby deep down into the box you kept all of your most painful moments. It was getting harder and harder to keep that latch closed, but your sheer determination to not cry in front of Hongjoong was enough to keep your emotions in balance for the time being.
"Okay, we're here. Care to explain what the hell is going on now?"
Hongjoong didn't respond for a moment. Instead, his eyes focused on the horizon, matching his breathing with the pull of the tide. The juxtaposition of your moods was laughable. Hongjoong meditatively calm, eyelids dropping in slow blinks to match his breaths, while your body couldn't discern whether or not you were being held at gunpoint - every muscle tense and one second away from bolting back to the safety of your car.
"Do you believe in God?" Hongjoong's voice floated just above the waves. You weren't sure if you had heard him correctly. Surely he wasn't asking about your spirituality at a time like this.
"What are you talking about Hongjoong? Why does that matter?" You should've known better than to follow him all the way out here. The chances of you receiving any helpful information about your current situation were slim to none. It was like he loved the idea of stringing you along, seeing what he could get you to do without giving anything in return.
"It matters a great deal, sweetheart." He tilted his head down to look at you, eyes glistening with the reflection of the moonlight. "So, is that a no to God? What about the Devil? Angels?"
"Is that what you're saying you are? An angel?" His sharp laugh made you jump, your heart racing nearly twice as fast as it had been at his sudden outburst. He couldn't stop himself from doubling over, clearly quite amused by your confusion.
"Me? A-an ang-?" He was now wiping tears away from the corners of his eyes.
Your temper flared the longer it took for him to compose himself. The audacity of this man - leading you all the way out here just to ask more cryptic questions and then laughing at your attempts to fit the pieces together. It was infuriating enough to send you trekking back through the night to your car. He needs me you reminded yourself, he's the one that lost something. If this was all just a game to him then you had no problems leaving him high and dry when it came to returning his mark.
He caught your arm before you had even turned halfway back towards the parking lot, the mood of the clearing snapping back into the seriousness of just a few moments ago.
"Not so fast." His grip loosened before your brain could send the distress signal throughout your nervous system to pull away, remembering how you had reacted at the beginning of the night to his touch. Hongjoong let out a sigh, frustrated at how poorly this was already going. He knew he needed your trust - at least for a little longer. It was the only way his plan would work tonight. So once he was sure you weren't a second away from bolting he continued, "No, I'm no angel. Although some would argue that's what my kind used to be."
"Your kind?" you asked. Why is he making it sound like he is some type of cryptid?
"Yes, I am what you humans like to refer to as a demon. Except without the whole grotesque, hide in the shadows, eat your soul thing." He spoke like this was a typical conversation people had on Wednesday nights in the middle of the woods, as if your breath hadn't caught the moment the word demon left his lips.
"A demon?" you repeated incredulously, eyebrows furrowing as you attempted to sort out what exactly he was saying. "So you, what? Kill people? Haunt them?" You knew you sounded ridiculous. Of course there were no such things as demons. They were just a character religions had created to herd people towards worshiping their gods.
"I don't just go around murdering people on a whim. There's a process," Hongjoong begins to explain.
"There's a process to killing people?" You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled past your lips. Oh great, I am definitely getting murdered now.
"Yes, I only take the lives of those that make a deal with me." Hongjoong's scanned your features, attempting to discern how you were digesting everything he had just told you. "You see, I find people that are looking for some divine intervention in some aspect of their life - usually money or relationship issues - and I offer to help them."
His words held an air of truth that you had a hard time denying. You weren't sure what you were expecting as an answer for all of this, but learning about the existence of demons certainly did not make your list. And yet instead of denying his claim, you found a strange comfort in the idea that everything that had happened was in fact supernatural.
"And in exchange you..." the pieces were finally fitting together in your mind. If he was telling you the actual truth then that meant-
"Take their lives, yes. Usually I give them ten years, five if they piss me off. When their contract ends, so does their time on earth."
He was so calm about it all. No teasing glint in his eyes, no smirk hinting at the fact that this was all a huge prank. He was talking about all of this like he was reading from the morning paper. You felt compelled to believe him. Mostly because there was no reasonable explanation for anything that had happened while Hongjoong was around.
"That's how you found me the other night." The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, every ounce of color draining from your face. He wasn't your guardian angel. He was there to make a deal.
"Well I must say, you were quite loud." Hongjoong's mouth upturned at the corner, glad to see that you were finally figuring it all out.
"You didn't make me sign a contract though, why?" You were waiting for the catch. For him to reveal that bringing you here was really just his way of getting his payment for saving you.
"If I recall correctly there wasn't much time to sort out the terms of agreement."
"And that's why I'm here now, right?" You were painfully aware of his hand that was still enclosed around your forearm, preventing any escape plans that attempted to take root in your mind.
"In a way, I suppose."
"But you won't kill me," you stated rather confidently. You could've sworn a look of pride flashed across Hongjoong's features as you continued to unwind his convoluted plan, "You would have done it already if that was your idea," you continued. "And you won't kill me because I have whatever this is." You pulled the sleeve of your top up just enough to show the cross that was still staining your wrist. Hongjoong's jaw clenched signaling that you were spot on with your assumption. "So I'll ask you one more time, Hongjoong. Why are we here?"
The silence was heavy, neither one of you backing down. It was impossible for you to react in time. His grip on your arm tightened followed by his other arm winding around your waist. He pulled against you, your feet easily lifting off the rocky path. Before you could scream, an all too familiar weightlessness cascaded against your body. Your instincts kicked in, gripping onto the only solid thing around you which happened to be Hongjoong's shirt. The salted air whipped past your cheeks as your mind accepted the fate that had been bestowed upon you.
As your body once again braced for the impact of the freezing water, a swell of warmth radiated from your wrist. Your eyes had shut tight almost immediately after sensing the descent, but a soft glow pressed against your eyelids as if the sun had suddenly risen. The bay was as unforgiving as you remembered, water quickly filling your lungs since you forgot to prepare yourself. You felt his hands digging into you skin. First against your arm, right where the mark stained your skin. While the warmth from that particular place calmed your racing mind, it seemed to upset Hongjoong further. His hand lifted, gently caressing your cheek before understanding his need to keep the two of you alive. A feeling of desperation pulsed from him, his hands finally wrapping around you as he kicked towards the surface.
You immediately began gasping for air as soon as your face met the surface. Hongjoong's arms held you securely as you bobbed above the waves, still disoriented from the sudden cliff dive. It didn't take long before he brought you to the shore, your breathing still hindered by the seawater you were working out of your lungs.
"What the fuck Hongjoong," you spat after gathering enough breath to speak. You quickly shoved his hands away from you, hating how his warmth pressed against your shivering body.
"I just thought-"
"You didn't think!" You slowly rose to your feet, fighting against the urge to cough up a liter of water. "I don't know what you hoped would happen, but leave me the fuck out of it."
Your words were daggers, efficiently slicing against Hongjoong's resolve. He didn't stop you as you walked away from the shore, only allowing his eyes to follow your drenched form as you climbed the stairs leading back to your parked cars.
Frustrated didn't even begin to explain how Hongjoong felt. His plan to get his mark back was, in hindsight, foolish, but his research into power transfers had left him empty handed considering there was only so many books in existence that even mentioned the existence of his kind. He figured attempting to recreate the scenario in which it happened in the first place was a good bet, but clearly he was mistaken.
Tonight wasn't a complete failure, however. Hongjoong could at least walk away from the beach with the knowledge that his powers hadn't disappeared for good. In fact, he was still able to access them to their full extent, having just used them to ensure the safe return to shore a few minutes ago. The only problem now was that the usual constant warmth of his powers beneath his skin was growing dimmer and dimmer. And soon enough, the comforting pull had fully slipped from his body, leaving him irritated at the emptiness.
He had to find a solution, and fast.
____
Your grandmother's at home office was a pleasant contrast to the harsh décor of the skyscraper that donned the Jeong name. The quaint room you now found yourself in was filled with antique wooden furniture and more plants than you could count. The atmosphere was usually one that calmed your nerves, the two of you often chatting over a cup of tea in the early Sunday afternoons after she had returned from church service. Today, however, there was an uneasiness to the air as you stepped into the space, tightly gripping the file you and Yunho had scrounged together at 3AM.
After your surprise nighttime swim four nights ago, you threw yourself even more into work (if that was even possible). It was the only way to keep your fury towards Hongjoong at bay. If you didn't allow yourself the time to think about his puzzling confessions, then you could maintain your usual façade, therefore not alarming anybody of the dramatic turn your life had seemed to take in the past week.
To be truthful, you were an absolute wreck. Anytime you found yourself alone, you couldn't stop the memories from flashing behind your eyes with every blink. You still hadn't figured out what Hongjoong was trying to do when he forced you into the bay again. Even more confusing was his obsession with the tattoo that still graced your wrist. There must have been something more to it, something to do with his unique background. You were still weren't able to wrap your mind around the idea that demons even existed. It made you wonder what other secrets this world was hiding from you.
All of this of course led to you losing copious amounts of sleep, having woken up curled over your desk just a few hours ago. You must have passed out there after insisting that Yunho go home, promising him that you would do the same after typing up the final reports. He didn't need to know how it took you another two hours to do just that.
"You look horrible." Your grandmother barely spared a second to glance at the state of you before returning to the pile of paper she was reviewing.
"It's nice to see you too," you huffed, flopping down in your usual spot on the soft chesterfield sofa that sat in the middle of the room. You knew the bags under your eyes were impossible to conceal, opting for large sunglasses during your drive to her house. There was no hiding from your grandma though, she always knew when something was wrong. Hopefully you would be able to pawn your stress off on the troubles at work and avoid sounding like a lunatic trying to explain your predicament with Hongjoong.
"I hope these late nights at the office have resulted in some answers, y/n." She rested her pen on the desk before leaning back and finally taking a good look at your disheveled appearance.
"We found a few things worth investigating," you started, opening up the folder that was now resting in your lap. "A new account was created two months ago with the company's name, but there has been no activity that we have been able to trace. No money in or out. Nobody on our finance team knows anything about it. We even scrubbed through their emails to check for any links to the account, but there's nothing."
Your grandma had made her way to sit next to you while you summarized the hours of work you had done searching for the missing money. She hummed in response as you handed her the folder, her eyes quickly skimming over the report. "Are you sure it was somebody on your team?"
"That's what I was wondering," you trailed off, nervous to accuse anybody working under your grandmother of stealing money. "Is this enough evidence to extend the search to anybody that has access to company accounts?"
There was a beat of silence, the only sound being the soft rustling of papers as your grandmother flipped through the file. "Your work is thorough, it should be enough to get the ball rolling. Send everything you have to legal and they will draw up the subpoenas." She tossed the folder on the oak coffee table lying in front of the couch and turned to get a better look at you, sighing as she took in your attempt of looking put together. "How are you ever going to find a man going around looking like you got ran over by a bus?"
"Halmeoni," you groaned, not ready to have another one of these conversations. "Stop fussing over my love life, it's bad for your health."
"How can I when you are throwing away your precious youth to waste away behind a desk?" You felt her piercing gaze boring into the side of your face, but couldn't bring yourself to meet it. Instead, you let your head fall back against the plush cushions and let out a deep sigh.
"I've told you, work is important to me." You were sick of this back and forth every time the two of you spoke. The whole finding a suitable bachelor quest began almost two years ago, and ever since then your grandmother had been obsessed with the topic. "Plus, why do I need a husband when you are doing perfectly fine without one."
"Because I don't want you turning into me."
Oh...well that's a new development. You slowly sat back upright, turning to face your grandmother. "You're the most successful female CEO in Korea right now, top ten in the world. I would love to become you."
"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it." Her voice was stern as usual, but now there was a note of something more. Sincerity maybe? You two could normally be considered emotional brick walls when it came to opening up, but you could sense a small crack forming in her - enticing you to push against it ever so slightly.
"I just don't see how a man can bring anything positive to my life right now," or ever. "If I want to secure that global distribution deal this year then I don't have time to be spending at dinner dates and walks in the park. I pour my heart into my brand, it's all I care about now."
You began to fidget with your fingers, suddenly feeling the weight of more than just the past week on your shoulders. Hongjoong and financial crisis aside, you were always under tremendous pressure to be successful. You owed it to your parents to make them proud. They had done so much for you, making sure you had the best childhood and were able to follow whatever dreams your heart settled on. You were their little star, a miracle gifted to them after years of struggling to conceive. It made it all that much more painful when you were the lone survivor of that car accident. How would you ever thank them for the sacrifices they made for you?
"You know they would be proud of you," her voice was soft, an uncommon luxury you knew not to take for granted. Your grandmother was surprisingly the one person that understood your ways of thinking incredibly well. She was the one there to put you back together when your entire world fell apart - the only one you would allow near you after the accident. "Don't feel like you have to kill yourself for this job. Things are tough right now, but you are the one that got the company where it is now. Not me. Not the family name. You."
You didn't realize you were crying until a tissue was passed to you from the side table, quickly using it to pat your cheeks dry. It wasn't often that you cried. It was even more rare that you cried in front of somebody else. But the lack of sleep and overwhelming stress must have cracked your usual stoic composure, making way for this small moment of vulnerability.
"I know this time of year isn't the easiest for you, either," she continued, clearly alluding to the anniversary of your parents' death coming up. "Why don't you take a day off this week? Visit a hot spring or book a spa day, hm?"
"I don't take days off," you reminded her, trying your hardest to keep your sniffling to a minimum. Your eyes were drifting between the various hanging plants above you.
"You should. Let yourself relax. What about Thursday? Spend your birthday somewhere nice for once." She was always careful about mentioning your birthday, knowing the memories that were tied to what was meant to be a special day. Instead your mind would usually catch on the funerals you attended all those years ago, or the way you sobbed as you opened the last presents your parents would ever gift you. "I think I overheard those dimwits from your marketing team talking about balloons and party hats."
"They wouldn't dare." You sat up straight, plucking your phone from your pocket to send Jongho a very strongly worded message about controlling Wooyoung and Mingi's surprise plans. You encouraged him to threaten their jobs if anything was even whispered about your birthday this week.
"Y/n," you turned back to your grandmother after placing your phone facedown on the armrest, knowing that Jongho would take care of everything. "You're going to burn out if you try to keep this up for much longer."
"But the missing money, I have to figure out what happened. The board is going to be up my ass about answers and I barely have anything." Your grandmother gave you a pointed look as you cursed. "Sorry, just-" you sighed, bowing your head, "I'll take a day when everything is settled again." You didn't want a day that allowed your mind to dwell on the recent events with Hongjoong, afraid that you would end up searching for answers from him once again.
"I'll hold you to it," she responded. "Now, before you leave, I have something for you." Your brows furrowed in confusion. You couldn't remember the last time you had received a gift from your grandmother. Or anybody really. Your aversion to any and all holidays definitely didn't help in that department.
"You didn't need to get me anything." You watched as she walked back to her desk and opened one of the side drawers, grabbing a small velvet box and making her way back over to where you sat.
"It's not from me," she said, setting the box in your now outstretched hand. You tilted your head in confusion. Why would she have a gift for you if it wasn't from her? Instead of explaining, she just nods towards the box. Your fingers curl over the lid, pulling up to reveal two rings nestled inside. They were both thin silver bands, one engraved with a delicate floral pattern, the other set with a small diamond.
Your chest ached as memories resurfaced. You knew these rings, had seen them worn by the hands that helped you read your first book, the hands that pushed your bike after you insisted the training wheels should come off, the hands that held you close when you got scared. You tore your gaze away from the rings, looking back at your grandmother with tears blurring your vision once again.
"I was waiting for the right moment to pass them on," she explained. "Something told me it was finally time."
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice shaky as you slipped the rings onto your right hand. Your mothers rested perfectly on your ring finger, your fathers needing to go on your thumb due to it's size. You could almost feel your parents embrace as the rings fit into place on your hand, bringing another round of tears streaming down your face.
"They loved you so much." Your grandmother leaned over to place a hand on your shoulder, somewhat taken aback at your reaction. She hadn't seen you upset since you had those horrible night terrors as a child. And even then, she wasn't the best at consoling you, usually just sitting at the end of your bed until you had exhausted yourself back into a fitful slumber.
"Yeah," you mumbled, swallowing down the sob that was crawling up your throat. Your fingers brushed against the engraved metal, allowing the coolness of it to sooth your jagged breathing. You couldn't help but feel slightly guilty, knowing the true intentions behind your grandmother's sudden gift. There wasn't a doubt in your mind that she was hoping to see that ring on somebody else's hand soon. But you were too exhausted to rehash the same conversation, opting instead to move on with your day.
Once you'd managed to quell the waves of grief and pack all of those emotions back into your neat little box, you stood, grabbing your bag before turning back to your grandmother. "I'll go get started on that email to legal, thanks for the advice."
And that was that. You made your way out of your grandmother's office without another word about your emotional outburst. She didn't say anything as you softly shut the door behind you. Thankfully, you made it back to your car before the box of emotions burst open again, finally allowing the sobs to wrack your body. Your forehead rested against the leather steering wheel as you gasped for air, your chest constricting more and more as memories of your parents and Hongjoong mixed together. It was like your mind decided to pull together a highlight reel of your worst days. Fiery wreckage morphed into the ice cold chill of the bay before ambulances and hospital rooms danced behind your eyelids.
It took probably five minutes before your frayed nervous system finally stopped ringing every alarm in your body. Your eyes stung and chest ached, but soon enough you began to push air in and out of your lungs at a far more regular pace. You could feel your heart rate even out as you sat back up in the drivers seat, avoiding the rear view mirror knowing how wrecked you probably looked.
"I miss you." You breathed out the confession between the hiccups you were left with once your eyes ran dry. Brushing your fingers against the rings once more as you took another deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the things you could control right now. Work was a shit-show, but it was the one constant in your life. And that's exactly why you set out on the familiar route to the office, already creating a to do list that would stretch well into the night.
___________________________________
"And what about the collection of Moon Jars? Those were supposed to be sent a month ago." Hongjoong had his head propped against his fist as he scanned over the mess of papers sprawled across his desk. Clear frown lines graced his upper brow as he shuffled a few sheets around looking for the receipt from the specialty shop he had purchased from.
"We got a delivery notification today claiming they should be dropped off tomorrow. I think the shipping was delayed to ensure the packing to be more secure." Seonghwa responded from where he sat across from him, scrolling through email correspondences on his tablet. "We should also be getting the selection of Jeogui from the National Palace Museum in the next few days. We need to work on the display for those."
Hongjoong's fingers rubbed against his temple as he squeezed his eyes shut. It wasn't the mountain of work that needed to be done before his exhibit on the Joseon dynasty could open that was causing the nearly constant headache. No, this he could handle in his sleep. It was thoughts of you that clogged his mind. It was nearly impossible to focus on anything aside from the fact that you held his powers, and he had no clue how to get them back.
"Okay, what is going on with you," Seonghwa's voice dripped with concern, having never seen his boss act like this for as long as he had known him. "You've had that scowl on your face for three days now, fess up."
"It's nothing, Hwa." Hongjoong attempted to brush his assistants worrying aside, mindlessly pushing papers around into haphazard piles.
"Bullshit. Like it or not, I know you pretty well. And I can tell something is bothering you, so spill." Seonghwa leaned back in the cushioned chair and crossed his legs, clearly waiting for a response from him.
This was how things always went between the two men - Hongjoong being his typical hardheaded self until Seonghwa's maternal nagging wore him down enough to open up about what was bothering him. Things must have truly been dire with how little he had to press the matter, Hongjoong almost immediately sighing and starting to explain his predicament.
"So can you even consider yourself a demon still?" Seonghwa's eyes had grown larger with every detail shared about the past couple of weeks, completely stunned at just how deep the hole his friend had dug was.
"I still have some power. I can still make deals, and follow through on them." The implication of his words were not lost on Seonghwa who nodded along as he continued. "I just feel drained. Like a dead battery or something. I don't know how much longer I can hold out without having access to my full abilities. I don't know what kinds of side effects this could trigger."
Hongjoong couldn't lie, it felt good to finally get all of this off his chest. Even though he knew Seonghwa wouldn't be able to help him with any of it, at least he could bounce some ideas off him before acting on instinct - considering where that had landed him now.
"And this y/n, you think she somehow has your powers now? Like, can she use them?"
"I'm not sure. She definitely didn't know how to when I saw her last, but that was before she knew what exactly was going on." Hongjoong paused to think back to the last night he had seen you, scraping through every second of the memories for any clues to a solution. "When I held her...I could feel the energy coming from her. It was like I could siphon my powers back from her. But as soon as she left they faded again."
"Hm, interesting." The room fell silent as both men continued to contemplate the complicated situation Hongjoong now found himself in. "Sounds like you better come up with one hell of an apology, then. I mean seriously Joong, you nearly killed the poor girl twice. What on earth were you thinking?"
Hongjoong's temper flared, his eyes darkening as he was reprimanded by the man that was supposed to be his subordinate. "I was thinking that I could reverse the transfer by reenacting the very thing that made it happen to begin with. It wouldn't have been an issue if it worked," he trailed off.
"Your confidence astounds me, truly," Seonghwa laughed dryly. Hongjoong huffed in response, irked at the direction this conversation was now headed.
"I just need to talk to her again, make her understand the severity of the situation." Hongjoong continued to think aloud.
"Yeah good luck with that. Sounds like she's gonna tear your head off if you even get close."
"Thanks for reminding me." The two men fell into silence again, both attempting to string together a plan that even had half a chance at succeeding.
"Well," Seonghwa's voice had Hongjoong leaning forward in his chair, eyebrows raised in anticipation. "There is one idea I have in mind," he trailed off, debating if he should really suggest something that will most likely land his boss in even hotter water.
"Which is..." Hongjoong's patience was quickly running out, not that he had much of it to begin with.
"You could always use your annoyingly good looks and magnetic charm to your advantage like always."
"Are you saying I should try to seduce her?" Hongjoong's words came out as a strained whisper, complete shock written all over his face. It wasn't that the tactic was beneath him. Oh no, Hongjoong was very well acquainted with using his looks to get what he wanted. But with you it seemed different. Too dangerous, too personal.
"I'm saying it's probably your only shot after how badly you fucked up."
Pairing: Demon!Hongjoong x Reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Summary: After nearly dying several times, you wake in the hospital with more questions than answers… and a mysterious cross-shaped mark burned into your skin that Hongjoong claims belongs to him. Trying to regain control, you throw herself back into work, where Yunho’s steady presence becomes your only source of comfort amid boardroom humiliation and corporate chaos.
Warnings: near drowning, unconsciousness, hospitalization, grief (parent loss), strong language
My Demon MasterlistMatz-rpiece MasterlistA/N: Reuploaded because this website is a hellscape
Weightlessness.
It was terrifying and peaceful all at once.
Your cheek was pressed against Hongjoong's chest, attempting to block your face from the wind that was whipping past the two of you. Your fingers were growing numb with how tightly you were holding onto him. There wasn't even time to scream before the two of you were plunging into the water.
As much as you tried to brace for the impact, it still slammed into your body like a slab of concrete. It took every bit of strength you had left to stay conscious. The cold bite of the water sank through to your bones as the weight from the fall began to register in your mind. Your body was tangled with Hongjoong's, limbs frozen in place as the two of you sank deeper underwater.
This is it. Your mind couldn't come up with any plans that would lead to your survival. You had been completely exhausted. The familiar sting of your lungs searching for oxygen began to fade as you finally accepted your fate. There was no more escaping. No more running.
You had slipped through death's grip far too many times for one night.
Your body began to relax, muscles releasing the tension they had been holding. Your fingers slipped away from where they had been holding on to Hongjoong, ready to experience your final moments. The peaceful promise of your ending started to tug at you, ushering you into whatever the afterlife entailed. Maybe your parents would be there, waiting for you like they used to after school.
Your peace was shattered when Hongjoong's hand gripped around your wrist like a vice. A sharp sting bit into your arm where his fingers were working deep bruises into your flesh. However, instead of a new wave of pain flooding through your system, a smooth blanket of calmness wrapped around you. It was like your whole body just got a reboot, your lungs not screaming quite as loud for a breath, joints unlocking, muscles relaxing.
Your feet began to move on their own, rapidly kicking and pushing the two of you upwards. You adjusted your connection to Hongjoong, wrapping your left hand around his and using the other to help propel the two of you.
You used every ounce of strength you had left to push the two of you towards the surface. Your body was desperately searching for air again as you moved. Darkness started to creep into the edges of your vision, reminding you of the watery grave that was awaiting both of you if you stopped. Still, you pushed harder and harder. The weight of his hand in yours igniting what little energy you had left. You could come to terms with letting your own life slip away, but you'll be damned if you were the reason Hongjoong didn't live to see another day.
The streetlights beyond the surface of the water were glowing brighter and brighter, taunting you with their proximity. Your muscles screamed in protest, each stroke pushing you towards total exhaustion again.
You had never experienced the level of relief you felt when your fingers finally broke the surface. As soon as your face was above water you gulped down as much air as you physically could. The choppy waves were making it harder and harder to stay afloat as you yanked Hongjoong's arm upwards. A terrified laugh slipped through your lips once you saw his head bobbing above the tide.
"Hongjoong!" your voice cracked. Your next challenge was getting him coherent enough to swim on his own. You were doing your best to keep the two of you above water, but you knew you weren't going to last much longer alone. "Come on, open your eyes," you pleaded.
A larger wave came crashing down on the two of you, your head being pushed underwater just as you went to suck in another deeply needed breath. Your lungs burned as they took on the foreign liquid, your body beginning to flail in an attempt to bring you back to the surface.
You felt a tight squeeze around your hand before the world tumbled out of focus. The swirling rapids that had been tugging against you were swept away, your body thumping down against something much more... solid. You must have finally fallen unconscious. Or maybe death had finally beaten down your door. It was the only explanation for how you were now waking up on the sandy shore that had seemed lightyears away just seconds ago.
Your frail body was crumpled haphazardly on the beach, breaths still coming in erratic fits. Your head turned as you attempted to cough the remaining water out of your respiratory system. It was a futile attempt, really. Your body didn't have enough strength to push far enough. Each attempt to expel the water only had you choking more. The dark spots were back, dotting your vision with their promises of a painless slumber.
The last thing you recall before the world faded away was a warm hand pressing against your back and your name slipping from somebody's mouth.
"No, she's still sleeping. We will reschedule the marketing meeting. Have San send over the new numbers tonight." You could hear somebody speaking in hushed tones as you began to stir from sleep. The man's sentences turned to soup in your brain, none of the words stringing together in a way that made sense.
Where am I?
What happened?
As if the universe could hear your thoughts, memories slammed back into you like a freight train. The car crash, the murder attempts, Hongjoong...
"Hold on, I think she's waking up. Keep me updated."
Your thoughts were jumbling together, unable to focus on any one thing for longer than two seconds. You winced as a headache quickly developed, wanting nothing more than to fall back into your dreamless slumber.
"y/n," the man spoke again, this time accompanied by a warm weight falling on your arm. His hand you supposed, still refusing to open your eyes. Maybe if you kept them closed you could act like everything that had happened was just a bad nightmare. You'd rather come to terms with those coming back into your nightly routine than accept the events of last night.
"Are you awake?" The voice was gentle, familiar. You let out a groan as you accepted your fate and cracked your eyes open. "How are you feeling?"
You glance over to see that your assistant, Jongho, was the one next to you. His attention kept bouncing back and forth between you and his phone that never seemed to stop vibrating with messages.
"They said somebody found you passed out on the beach. I'm not going to ask what on earth you were doing out there." He gave you a pointed look. Even though his words said one thing, you could feel him waiting for your explanation for why the CEO of a very well known company was found unconscious nowhere near their home on a Tuesday night.
"I, uh-," you tried your best to come up with an explanation. Anything that would save you from the impending psych eval you were positive was headed your way. "I was just-"
"You're up."
Another voice interrupted your hopeless stammering. Both of your heads turned to the doorway, clearly not expecting to have any company at this very moment. Especially not him. His appearance was aggravatingly perfect compared to the state you were in. He donned a fresh suit - just as exquisitely tailored as the last, not a single hair was out of place, and of course that smug smirk was pasted across his lips.
"Hongjoong, what-" you began.
"And who exactly are you?" Jongho interjected, staring quizzically at the stranger that had now stepped into the small room.
"I'm the one that found her," Hongjoong responded, his eyes scanning your body just as they had last night. The smallest flash of relief crossed his features once he determined you weren't on death's doorstep any longer.
There were thousands of questions waiting to burst from your mouth. How had he found you? Why did he help you? Why is he here now? You couldn't focus enough to choose one to ask so you simply laid there, staring at who you could only consider a guardian angel at this point.
You should've been dead.
You should've been dead three times over, but he was there. What kind of astral alignment had occurred for him to show up exactly when you needed him to?
"Do you mind if we have a moment alone?" Hongjoong broke the silence, eyes finally sliding over to Jongho who had busied himself with another urgent email.
"Uh," Jongho looked to you, head tilting in the slightest to ask what you wanted. All it took was half a nod before he was walking out of your hospital room, his phone already pressed to his ear before he entered the hallway. That's what you loved about Jongho - he never questioned your decisions. Loyal to a fault some would say, but that's exactly what you needed in an assistant. The last thing you needed was another person doubting you. Your grandmother was enough.
"How do you feel?" His question snapped you out of your daze, focusing back on where he was leaning against the wall close to the door.
"Like I nearly drowned," you deadpanned. You took a second to actually assess your current state, puzzled as to why you weren't in more pain considering everything that had happened. "Why are you here?" you asked before you could dwell on those thoughts for too long.
"Just..." he took a second to think, stepping forward to stand at the foot of the bed. You winced, hoping he hadn't noticed the slight increase in tempo to the beeps of your heartrate monitor. "Wanted to make sure all my hard work wasn't lying in the morgue."
You scoffed, unable to refrain from rolling your eyes. "You are taking a lot of credit for somebody that should've also be laying at the bottom of the bay right now."
"I'm the only reason we aren't there, sweetheart," he grinned, clearly loving the thought of having the upper hand against you.
"Why are you really here?" Your frustration seeped into your tone, the words spitting out into the already tense atmosphere. His gaze suddenly dropped to your arm, his eyes swimming with an emotion you couldn't quite place. Something about the way his eyes bore into you had you squirming, the scratchy hospital sheets rubbing against your already sensitive skin. You watched him for a moment, puzzled at why he seemed unable to tear his gaze away from your forearm.
An involuntary gasp escapes your lips as your eyes connect with the patch of skin that pulled Hongjoong's attention so adamantly. There, in the middle of your previously untainted skin, laid a simple black cross. There was no pain radiating from that spot, no blotchy red irritation around it signaling a drunken night that swept you away into a desperate tattoo parlor. If anything, the mark radiated a kind of warmth that settled deep within your bones. A warmth that had your stomach twisting in knots over the implications.
"What the fuck?" Hongjoong flinched ever so slightly as you furiously rubbed against the mark, praying to any god that was listening that it was just a permanent marker fueled prank. Much like everything else that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, it didn't make sense. The date, the accident, the beach - none of it added up. There was only one thing that connected all of these events. Him.
Your blood boiled as you lifted your eyes back to Hongjoong, your rage becoming laser focused on the mysterious man that had waltzed into your life less than twenty-four hours ago. The animosity behind your scowl probably could have killed any other man, but unfortunately he remained standing. "What did you do to me?"
"Trust me, sweetheart," your eyes rolled instinctually as the infuriatingly familiar pet name slipped past his lips, "if it were up to me I wouldn't even be here. But you have something of mine, and I intend to it back."
"Yours? What are you talking about Hongjoong. I swear it's like you speak in riddles," you huffed, your annoyance growing with every second of silence.
"We just need to figure out how to reverse the-"
"Oh good, you're awake." A new voice sounded from the doorway, clearly unaware that they were interrupting anything. "We can get you out of here as soon as we check a few things, Ms. y/l/n." The nurse made her way through the small room, already checking your vitals and taking notes in your chart. Your eyes shifted back to meet Hongjoong's, doing your best to silently communicate the fact that you were very much not done speaking with him.
"I'll let you rest," Hongjoong said, bowing his head slightly as he brushed past the nurse.
"Wait," you called out, panic rising within you as you realized he was leaving without answering anything. "Hongjoong!" His steps didn't falter as he slipped back out into the hallway. His indifference about this entire situation had you seconds away from chasing after him. The only thing really stopping being the IV that was still dripping fluids into your recovering system.
"Miss, please sit back," the nurse instructed you. "While you can go home soon, the doctor still wants you to rest for a couple of days."
"Sorry, just," you caught yourself before you could make yourself sound like a complete basket case. "Just want to get home," you smiled politely, laying back against the sad excuse for a pillow under your head as the nurse continued checking you over. At least they are discharging you, you reminded yourself. You'd only been awake for maybe twenty minutes and you could already feel yourself becoming stir-crazy, the too bright fluorescents and antiseptic aroma felt like a cage slowly closing in on you.
It wasn't a surprise that you hated hospitals, avoided them at any cost really. Having to relive the worst moments of your entire life every time you stepped foot into one was an easy deterrent. Luckily you didn't need to visit the doctor often, so you were able to happily keep your distance from the prison-esque buildings entirely. Not like you had time to be sick anyways when your job was a constant weight pressing down against you.
"Alright, everything looks good. I'll have your paperwork finalized and you'll be out of here within the hour," the nurse closed your chart and gave you a soft smile. "You're a lucky girl. That boyfriend of yours was quite worried when you came rolling in off the ambulance. Almost had to call security on him to get him to leave your side."
"Oh," your face heated in an instant, palms growing clammy enough for you to quickly rub them against the blanket you were still tucked beneath. "He's... he's not my boyfriend..." You stuttered, mentally kicking yourself for getting so flustered over the simple thought of dating him. He was a complete jerk, asshole even. And you were very much not looking for a relationship right now. Or ever really. Clearly your reaction was due to the extreme stress your body had been put under. Yes, that had to be it. You would be back to normalcy in just a few short hours, and would never have to think about him again. In fact, you could probably convince yourself to chalk all of last night up to a series of incredible strange coincidences... as long as you didn't think too hard about any of it.
The nurse gave you a pointed look over her glasses as if she knew the exact thoughts running through your head before humming, clearly not believing anything you said. Thankfully she didn't push any further and left you on your own to calm your now racing heart.
The first few seconds of silence were peaceful. Tension you didn't even know you were holding in your shoulders eased away as the rhythmic pulsing of the machines around you ticked away like a steady clock. It wasn't often that you found yourself in a position to take a break. The last one you could remember taking was after spending three sleepless nights holed up in your office, frantically pouring over every finance report trying to find where a specific discrepancy in profit margins had spawned from. Jongho had all but thrown you over his shoulder in order to get you to leave the building. He apparently drew the line at brewing coffee with a 5 Hour Energy as replacement for water and decided to put you on house arrest for the next twenty-four hours.
Soon enough your thoughts drifted back to your conversation with Hongjoong, a familiar anxiety weaving its way back around your chest as you dwelled on his words. You brought your arm up to eye level, rubbing your thumb over the mark once again in hopes that it would wipe away this time. It was pointless, and you knew that. Something deep within you knew that whatever had occurred to give you the tattoo would not be so easily reversed.
Your thoughts got caught on something he had said. I intend to get it back. Had he meant the tattoo? You were sure he couldn't have left anything else with you considering you had nothing around you from the previous night. No clothes, no phone. Everything was most likely destroyed after your late night dip in the bay. And the way he had looked at your arm... It was almost like he didn't want to believe it either. Like he wanted the mark to dissolve beneath your fingertips just as badly.
"No, tell Wooyoung that won't be necessary. We will be there soon. No fanfare, you all know better. Just act like business as usual." Jongho's conversation drifted into the room as he neared the door. You made a mental note to thank him for warding off the welcoming scene Wooyoung and Mingi were most likely trying to concoct back at the office. If they weren't so good at their jobs, their idiotic personalities would have gotten them fired years ago. But alas, the product ideas that came out of those two morons never failed to have sales skyrocketing so you were forced to deal with their antics.
"Yes, the board meeting is still happening this evening. Those reports better be finalized by the time we arrive." Jongho stepped into the room as he ended the phone call, tucking his phone into his pocket and setting a bag down at the foot of your bed. "I stopped by your place while you were still sleeping to grab some clothes. Hopefully something is to your liking. If we get out of here within the hour we can still make it to the finance rundown at one before the board meeting this afternoon."
That was it. No questioning of what you had been doing last night or who Hongjoong was, no pestering to talk about anything. He really was your favorite for a reason.
"How big are the fires we are going to have to put out?" you asked as you sat up, reaching for the bag to start rifling through your options.
"Well it's not completely engulfed in flames, but we are going to need some major breakthroughs in the next couple of hours if we don't want to have our asses handed to us by the board," he explained, reaching for the pieces of clothing you thrust in his direction.
"Finance still hasn't tracked down where that money disappeared to?" you paused, sighing as Jongho shook his head. "God, what do I even pay these people for?"
And just like that the unanswered questions from your bizarre encounters with Hongjoong were whisked out of your mind. Saving your company from the impending corporate shitstorm had taken priority, leaving the tattoo on your wrist as the only evidence that you had even met the man at all.
__
Brutal didn't even begin to cover the embarrassment you faced during that afternoon's board meeting. You had prepared as much as you could to stand in front of the other shareholders of your company's parent corporation, doing your best to not shrink away from their deepening scowls. It didn't help that half of them were in the family.
Oh yes, the joys of being part of the elusive Jeong dynasty. To the outside world the family was untouchable: successful, intelligent, filthy fucking rich. But what they didn’t know was just how cut throat everybody was behind the scenes.
Jeong Seokhoon sat at one end of the long conference table. You were used to his disappointment whenever you spoke, so his nearly permanent frown lines weren't shocking in the slightest as you fumbled through an answer to an oddly specific question about your company's Q1 earnings from last year. You swore he asked things just to make you look like an idiot in front of everybody. It had been like this since his mom had taken you under her wing. The evidence of no longer being the favorite was obvious in the way he constantly found ways to belittle you.
A few seats down, Jeong Yunho. A finance whiz that had saved the company from complete ruins on multiple accounts and the only other person in the room that was your age. He was usually the one friendly face in this room of sharks, but today was different. He was stressed. You could tell from the way he kept picking at his fingernails, nervously brushing strands of hair out of his face and pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he read through the reports your team had gathered. If there was any hope of digging your way out of this hole, Yunho would find the answer.
At the other end of the table sat Jeong Yoonji, another person that was less than thrilled to see you. Her position on the board was mostly vanity, not owning a company or contributing much of anything to the meetings. She was there because she was a Jeong and everybody knew it except her. Thankfully her glares were easy to ignore since they held no meaning whatsoever.
Of course at the head of the table sat your grandmother. Or, who you called your grandmother. She had taken you in when your parents passed, seemingly pissing off the rest of her biological bloodline. She wasn't usually known for her compassion, so the decision to adopt you had sent everybody into a tailspin. You knew your father had worked with her closely, often spending late nights in the office to help finish important projects. You had resented her in your childhood, hating that she kept him from your life - countless piano recitals and soccer games attended solo by your mother. Of course you understood now, having dedicated yourself to your work just as he had. However, that didn't make it hurt any less.
"You have one week to come up with a solution," your grandmothers voice held it's usual sharpness. You couldn't meet her eyes as she speaks to you, already aware of how great a disappointment you were at the moment. She had made no indication of knowing that you had spent the night in the hospital, but you were certain she was aware. Nothing slipped past her.
"Of course, it will be dealt with." you said, bowing your head slightly before sitting back down. It felt like you could finally exhale now that the attention of the room shifted to the next presenter. You were already coming up with a to do list in your head, taking note that you were most likely living in your office until everything was sorted.
The sun had already dipped below the horizon by the time the meeting ended. You exited the conference room with your phone already pressed to your ear, relaying your plan for the night to Jongho so that he could make sure the last few files you needed were handed over before the rest of the employees left for the night.
"Hey! Y/n!" You turned back towards the door as you hang up, slotting your phone back inside your bag. "Are you headed back to your office?" Yunho asked as he closed the gap between the two of you.
"Yeah, it's gonna be a late one for me. Did you need something?" You had to tilt your head back to look at him. Even in heels Yunho towered over you, which was nice when you needed him to play the part of scary guard dog at the insufferable galas you had to attend throughout the years.
"I was just wondering if I could be of any help? These reports, they uh," he held up the file between you, thumbing through the pages quickly, "they're flawless. Everything lines up until it just... doesn't."
"I don't want to tie you up with a project that isn't yours to handle. I really appreciate the offer though," you replied, smiling softly up at him.
"I really don't have anything else going on right now," he insisted. "I'll go grab us those dumplings you like from down the street." You knew there was no use in trying to change his mind. Yunho often did this when his mind was set on something it was nearly impossible to change it. Plus, it would be nice to have another pair of eyes combing through everything.
"Fine, don't forget the-"
"Extra sauce? Trust me, I'm never making that mistake again," he laughed. "I'll see you in a bit." You took a step back to let him pass, watching as he made his way towards the elevators. It was a rare thing to feel at ease while in this building, but you couldn't help but notice it only seemed to happen when Yunho was around. Like his presence alone was calming. Maybe because he was the only one around that didn't look at you as if you didn't earn your success. He was the only one outside of your team that truly wanted your company to flourish. The only one that knew what you were capable of, and would do whatever he could to help.
___
"No, here," you slid another file across the glass surface of your desk at Yunho. "I already read that one three times. Check this one. I think the numbers were melting off of page nine the last time I looked at it."
"Isn't that a sign we should take a break?" he asked for the fifth time. You glanced at your computer - 11:46PM. Takeout containers and empty coffee cups littered the edges of the table, proof of how long the two of you had spent combing through report after report. "Come on, I'm pretty sure I saw you fall asleep with your eyes open like ten minutes ago."
"I did not!"
"A five minute break won't kill us, y/n." Yunho stood up, tossing the report you had handed him back onto the desk. "We can go see what your R&D team has waiting for us in the fridge." He waggled his eyebrows, doing his best to tempt you with the promises of a sweet treat.
"I hate that you know my weaknesses," you groaned, lowering your feet from where you had them crossed underneath you and slipped your shoes back on. The two of you made your way through the dark and empty office. The space wasn't huge, only needing room for twenty people. Most of your employees worked in the main room - desks scattered about, personal mementos littering the tops of them. A small plush was knocked onto the ground as Yunho passed.
"Oops," he leaned down to place it back from where it fell, "aw, it's so cute!" Yunho's eyes shone even in the darkened room as he held up the small Shiba stuffed animal.
"You better put that back. San is very protective over it." You giggled as the memory of him chasing Wooyoung around the office last week after the younger had hidden the dog on top of the fridge. "I am not responsible for any injuries acquired after touching that thing."
"Don't worry. It's like nothing ever happened," Yunho set the plush back on the corner of San's desk, patting its head twice for good measure before following you into the kitchen.
The size of this room rivaled the one that you had just left, except this one was crammed full of the nicest baking equipment money could buy. You flipped on the lights before making a beeline straight for the stainless steel fridge. Usually you knew what new recipes were being tested, setting aside time to trial some new bakes throughout the week yourself. But lately the paperwork had piled up, meaning your kitchen time was basically nonexistent.
"Oh, they've been busy." Your eyes widened at what was displayed in front of the two of you. Almost every square inch of the fridge was full of delicious looking desserts. It was your favorite time of the year, the middle of berry season. Your mouth watered as you weighed your options. The strawberry shortcake looked enticing, but you found yourself reaching for the berry tart instead.
"You're sharing that, right?" he asked before grabbing a slice of lemon merengue pie.
"You know the rules. You share with me, I'll share with you." You were already grabbing forks for the two of you, handing one to him before sliding up onto the countertop. This was very much not the first time the two of you shared a late night treat together. In fact it was almost a tradition at this point. If he was still around after hours and your office was still illuminated, the two of you would find yourselves in this very same position.
He leaned lazily against the counter opposite you, doing his best to focus on the pie instead of how beautiful you looked in the low light. Your hair framed your face in an effortless way, your blouse fitting just right around your curves. Yunho watched as your feet lightly tapped against the cabinets. You were lost in thought as you brought another bite up to your mouth, zoning out for the nth time that night.
"So I heard you went on a date last night." His voice sucked you back into reality. You blinked a few times, trying to knock the exhaustion out of your system.
"Oh." Your cheeks ignited, memories of your time with Hongjoong resurfacing for the first time in hours. "Yeah, you know how our grandmother is. I had to bribe her in order to go to the doctor so."
"So you didn't like him?" Yunho winced at how excited he sounded. He knew you well enough to understand your uninterest in dating. This business was your top priority. Always was. Always will be. But there was a piece of him, a tiny sliver, that always hoped you might give him the time of day. If he could just take you on a date. Show you that side of him, the romantic side, maybe you would reconsider.
"He was... different." You weren't sure how to describe Hongjoong. So much had happened. So much that you couldn't tell him, couldn't explain. Your hand instinctually went to cover your wrist, forgetting that you had chosen a long-sleeved top to ensure nobody questioned your sudden decision to get a tattoo. "He wasn't like the usual men she sends after me," you continued after noticing how Yunho leaned towards you, clearly wanting more details. "He didn't seem to care who I was or what I did. It was all very... strange."
"Strange indeed."
You brought another forkful of tart up to your mouth, letting your mind wander back to the date. So much had happened since then. That uneasy feeling settled low in your gut, the same feeling you always got when you thought about Hongjoong. You were certain he was hiding something. Something that he clearly never wanted to reveal to you.
"Are you going to see him again?" Yunho's question made you pause. Were you? He said you had something of his, something he wanted to get back. You weren't sure how you had gotten the marking in the first place, much less how to give it back to him. All you did know was that you would do whatever was necessary to return your life back to normal, and put Hongjoong in the past for good.
"Uh... I'm not sure." You found it hard to lie to Yunho. He was probably your closest friend, always showing up when you needed him. But you couldn't help but remain reserved with him, scared that he would read into your vulnerability as an invitation to make a move. You supposed if you had to get romantically involved with anybody he would be the clear choice. He was good looking, kind, smart... But once again, relationships were not in the cards for you. This company was your pride and joy. It was the only thing left tying you to your family. Your real family.
"You're usually so ready to trash talk the suitors my grandmother sends. What's different about this one?" Yunho trained his voice to not sound too disappointed, aiming to come off as his usual concerned friend persona.
"It's complicated," you admitted. It wasn't a lie. Things were complicated. You were a dead girl walking, a marked wrist being the only indication that last night wasn't just an incredibly vivid nightmare. You had no clue how or why you were still alive. Or why billions of won had disappeared from your company's accounts. Or why you still felt Hongjoong's hands on your skin no matter how much you tried to shut his existence out of your mind.
"Complicated as in you might like him?"
"I don't like him." You were quick to correct him. "He's just..."
And as if the universe was listening, your felt your phone buzz in your pocket. You sighed, sliding it out of your pocket to see who was up at this hour to bother you.
Unknown Number: Meet me here tomorrow night @9
Attached to the message was a link to a pinned map. Exactly where you had been last night.
Synopsis:
After a disastrous blind date, your carefully structured life begins to unravel when you cross paths with Hongjoong—a man who seems to know far more about you than he should. Strange coincidences turn dangerous, and you soon find yourself caught between unexplained supernatural events and a growing threat that refuses to stay in the shadows. As you search for answers, the steady comfort of Yunho offers you a sense of normalcy, while Hongjoong pulls you deeper into a world you never believed existed.
With your family history resurfacing and someone determined to silence you, you must navigate secrets, shifting loyalties, and a bond you can’t escape. The closer you get to the truth, the more your heart is divided between safety and something far more dangerous.
Tag List is open!!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5 (coming soon)
Kissing ATEEZ at midnight on NYE
Members Included: Seonghwa, Yeosang, San, Wooyoung (Other members can be found in pt. 1)
Word Count: Each member ~1 - 1.5k words
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
Seonghwa
"You're sure it's okay for me to be there, Hwa? What about cameras?"
"We already did the professional photo shoot last week. Any pictures taken are not going to be published. Promise. It's just a party."
You replayed your boyfriend's earlier reassurances in your head, but his words weren't doing much to calm your nerves. You had been dating Seonghwa since April, and yes, he had taken you out plenty of times, both on private dates, and less privately with the other seven boys. But this felt different. Being at the KQ Headquarters for the company's New Year's Eve party was different on so many levels. Cameras were everywhere capturing candid moments, and you were terrified that you would wake up as tomorrow's headline.
You spent the evening glued to Seonghwa's side. He always always had a hand on you in some way or another; holding your hand in his, arm thrown around your shoulders, or even squeezing your waist, your body flush with his. The one and only time he let go of you was when you went to the bathroom, and even then, he probably would have guarded your stall if you asked.
It was nearing midnight, and the party was moving to the roof. It was too cold outside to spend the whole night up there, but just for 20 minutes before and after the countdown, it was probably okay.
Hand in hand, you and Seonghwa entered the elevator along with a few other KQ staff members. You leaned your head against his shoulder on the short ride up, and he sneaked a kiss onto the top of your head. The butterflies in your stomach soared once more at the sweet gesture. You still couldn't believe he was yours and you were his.
You braced yourself for the cold as you stepped out of the elevator and through the doors that led to the roof. It was expertly decorated out here, no expense spared. Heated lamps were arranged every few feet, but they only did so much against the winter chill. You clung closer to Seonghwa, stealing whatever warmth he could spare.
"Do you want a drink, darling?" he asked, gently leading you to the bar.
"Do they have anything warm?" you asked, your teeth starting to chatter slightly.
Seonghwa took a moment to look at the small menu. "Hot cider, mulled wine," he told you. "Or hot chocolate if you don't want anymore alcohol."
"Hmmm." You considered the choices. You'd had a couple beers downstairs, and you weren't typically a heavy drinker, but a hot cider sounded too good to pass up. "The cider," you said. "Please."
He stole a kiss from your cheek before getting the bartender's attention and ordering both of you a cider. Minutes later, you had the hot drink between your hands. A careful sip told you it was the perfect temperature. The spices worked perfectly with the apple, and the bourbon warmed you from the inside out. The mug was doing a good job of keeping your fingers from freezing too.
"Mmmmmm, so good," you whispered. You bumped your shoulder against his to get his attention. "Thank you for bringing me, Hwa."
He smiled at you, a bright, beaming smile. "Of course, y/n. I'm glad you came."
You grinned up at him. "Love you," you whispered softly enough that only he could hear. You had said the words to each other plenty of times before, but you still liked how pleasantly surprised he was to hear them. Like he couldn't believe it was true.
"I love you too," he said, his smile only growing.
You brought the mug up to your lips for another sip, but right as it reached your mouth, an incredibly loud explosive bang sounded off right from the side of the building. It startled you enough that you dropped your drink, cider splashing all over your clothes and Seonghwa's.
But you didn't have time to care about that, the panic that flooded your veins at the loud, sudden sound was overwhelming. You didn't like unexpected noises like this, not one bit. You had spent the evening mentally preparing for the midnight fireworks. You were going to cover your ears and cling to Seonghwa while you watched them. But this? This came out of nowhere. Your heart was pounding in your chest, blood rushing in your ears. You were not okay. Not one bit.
There was a ringing in your ears, and you could see your vision going blurry. You were disoriented, lost, confused. Where was everyone? Where was Seonghwa? You felt your throat tighten in your panic, and your lungs constricted in fear. Part of you knew it wasn't that serious, but your body didn't understand. You needed off this roof. Now!
Hands were suddenly on either side of your face, and your eyes focused for just a moment. On Seonghwa. Concern was embedded deep into his features. You saw his lips move, but you couldn't make out the words. Was he even speaking in a language you knew?
"Y/n," he said, his words finally coming through. "Look at me, my darling."
You blinked at him, words impossible to find. You felt your features crumble as tears began to pour from your eyes. You were still panicking from the rogue firework (you only just now figured out what it was), but you were also fully aware of the scene you were causing. Reality hit you hard, you were just some girl ruining an idol's party.
Seonghwa put an arm around you, tucking you tight into his side. "Let's go inside."
You didn't protest. You couldn't. You buried your face into his shoulder and let him lead you inside. When he pressed the button for the elevator, another firework went off. It was dulled from being inside, but it was still enough to make you jump. You let out a whimper and latched onto your boyfriend. As if he could protect you from the noise.
Alone in the elevator was a little better, but you could still hear everything. It was all ringing in your ears. The thumping bass from the party, both on the roof and inside. It was too much. Too much. Too much.
Seonghwa kept his arms around you as he led you out of the elevator and to a floor you hadn't been to before. You didn't know where he was taking you, but you didn't really care. You just wanted quiet.
You were vaguely aware of a few doors closing behind you as you were escorted down a dark hallway. You heard a light switch click on, and another door closed. And only then did you notice just how quiet it is. The only noises were the rustling of you clothes and Seonghwa's, and the sounds of your breaths and his. Complete. Utter. Silence.
You opened your eyes and looked around. You hadn't been here before, but between pictures and video calls, you were familiar with the space. Their recording booth. Suddenly the lack of outside noise made sense. And it melted your heart a little bit that Seonghwa was quick enough to think to bring you here. The only place safe from the fireworks.
Seonghwa rubbed his hand against your back in soothing circles. "You're okay now, darling," he whispered.
"I'm sorry-"
"Don't be," he interrupted your apology. "It wasn't your fault that the fireworks started early. I know how you are with things like that. If anything, I should be the one apologizing."
You started to shake your head, but his hand was there, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushed away the few stray tears that lingered.
"Not much of a party in here," you mumbled, feeling like you'd ruined his night.
"Stop that," he said, but there was no scolding in his tone. "You're the most important thing to me. We can have a party with just the two of us. Anywhere, anytime."
You couldn't stop the smile that formed from hearing his affection spoken so clearly. "We're gonna miss the countdown."
He shrugs. "Who cares? We can have our own." He got his phone out to check the clock. 11:58. "Just in time."
He pocketed it and took your face into his hands again. You felt your cheeks warm at the intimacy of the action. You turned your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand. His hold on you made you feel safer than anything. You loved him so much, and that look that was in his eyes? There was no doubt in your heart that he loved you just as much.
"Happy New Year, y/n."
"Happy New Year, Seonghwa."
As the year changed from one to another, in the silence of a recording booth, he kissed you. There was no music, no fireworks, no fanfare, no cheers. Just you. Just Seonghwa. Your breaths mixed, and your hearts raced together, forming a symphony for just the two of you to hear. And that alone was a beautiful sound to ring in the new year with.
Yeosang
You weren't sure what to expect when you were invited to Wooyoung's apartment for a NYE party, but here you sat - pleasantly surprised by the relaxing vibes the night had so far. It was just the boys and a few other friends gathered. Enough people for there to be multiple conversations going on, but not so many that you felt the need to retreat into a corner.
You were currently listening nestled into the corner of the couch between San and Yeosang. A small group of you were listening to Jongho tell a story about Yeosang getting lost at an arena on tour. You couldn't help but giggle as Yeosang's cheeks turned pink as he tried to explain how confusing the hallways were at that particular venue.
"I'm sure it was very confusing," you teased, laying a hand lightly on his leg in feigned sympathy.
"I just wanted to find some lemonade," he whined, hiding behind his hands. As the rest of the group continued their teasing you squeezed your hand slightly, silently asking if he was okay. Yeosang peeked out from behind his hands ever so slightly to send a hesitant smile your way.
"I thought I heard somebody say something about a round of slap cup?" You seamlessly changed the subject, happy to see Yeosang visibly relax next to you now that everybody was gathering to set up the game.
"Thanks, y/n." You took Yeosang's hand that he had offered, carefully unsticking yourself from where you had sunk into the plush cushions of the couch.
"Anytime Yeo. Now I think we team up against Jongho in retaliation. What do you think?" you asked as the two of you made your way to the table that was now packed with red solo cups.
"Sounds like a perfect plan to me," he agreed. You instructed Yeosang to stand so that Jongho was in the middle of you two, a perfect position for your coordinated attack against the younger member.
"Let's make this a little more exciting," Wooyoung said, raising his voice over the last few conversations that had now fizzled out into silence. "Whoever loses is subject to seven minutes in heaven. The person who slapped their cup gets to choose who with." The room erupted into hoots and hollers, everybody intrigued by the new stakes.
You would be lying if you said the thought of losing didn't affect you. Honestly, you were scared shitless of who Jongho would send to you if he ended up winning. He could choose somebody that would create the most violently awkward seven minutes of your entire life, or worse - he could send Yeosang. It was a well known secret that you had been crushing on him for months. Almost everybody knew about it except for Yeosang, and you weren't sure if you were excited at the prospect of him being sent to you or terrified.
You shoved the thought of being locked in a room with him out of your brain as best as you could while the game started. Now was not the time to be flustered over your silly schoolgirl crush standing a few feet away from you. Nor was it the time to imagine what exactly he would choose to do with those seven minutes were he chosen.
Cups had already begun to fly, laughter and shouts filled the space. The intensity of the game was palpable. It was clear that nobody wanted to be the loser tonight. You managed to scrape by your first two rounds, dunking your ping pong ball seconds before Jongho was able to - avoiding the half full cups in the middle of the table. The third round, however, is where it all turned south.
You started with a small lead, the next cup being four people behind you when you started. But a few overzealous bounces and multiple embarrassing bouts of chasing the ball across the room, your cup was slapped away by Jongho. Lunging forward, you grabbed a new cup and downed the room temperature beer in it. The mood had shifted around the table. People were shouting about there only being two cups left, the loser would be crowned soon.
Your freshly empty cup was placed back on the table and you took aim once again. As the ball ricocheted off the rim of the cup everybody cheered. Mingi had just sunk his on his first try, sending the cup back to Jongho. Your cup was slapped before you could even try again.
"Come on, y/n. You can do it!" Yeosang was the only one cheering for you at this point. Almost everybody else was just hoping you would be the one to lose and save them from the dreaded punishment.
Chugging another cup of beer so quickly after the last brought a fogginess to your movements, the effects of the alcohol clinging to your senses immediately. This was a recipe for disaster. It was your last chance. You had to make it or the game was over.
Yeosang rolled the ping pong ball down the table to you after you missed once again. It probably would've been better if you had just given up and just accepted your punishment. That would've been a lot easier to watch than what actually occurred.
It was Yunho this time that sent the cup back to Jongho. The table was growing louder, cheering for him as he lined up his shot. It was over in a second, the sound of the small plastic ball swirling around the rim of the cup signaled your defeat. You bent in half, pressing your forehead to the table attempting to regain some composure.
"Drink up!" Wooyoung yelled across the table as he pushed the last cup towards you. This was the easy part of losing the game. In fact you were thankful for the extra liquid courage, snatching the cup and downing it all at once.
"Now for the fun part," Jongho smirked, already making a show of trying to choose who would be meeting you shortly.
"I'll be in here I guess," you said over your shoulder as you walked to one of the closed off bedrooms of the apartment, closing the door behind you before you could hear any of their teasing remarks.
You chose to forgo turning the overhead light on, and instead flicked the small desk lamp on before sitting on the edge of the bed. You weren't sure when your leg started bouncing, or when you had chewed off the last of your fingernails, but your nerves were pulled taught across your entire body. Your body clearly couldn't tell the difference between being chased by a lion and the predicament you had landed yourself in.
It had been at least five minutes since you had closed the door behind you, or was it ten? Time had a fun way of stretching when you were left with your own thoughts. After another minute you were starting to wonder if they were just playing a cruel joke on you. Were they really going to send somebody in? Or were they all sitting back on the couch taking bets on how long you would sit there on your own.
Your spiraling thoughts were clipped short when you heard the doorknob jostle. The door squeaked just slightly as it opened. You couldn't quite make out who had entered in the low lighting, but you watched as they delicately closed the door behind them and took a few steps towards you.
You could've sworn your heart skipped a beat (or five) when Yeosang's soft features came into focus. He stopped a step away from you, hands in his pockets - eyes glued to the floor.
"Sangie?" Your voice was barely a whisper, unsure of how he felt being pushed into this situation.
"You uh-" he cleared his throat, "we don't have to. I-if this is weird or you don't uh-" He stumbled over his words. "I'm sure you were hoping for somebody else, I'm sorry."
"Yeosang." You poured as much confidence as you could into your voice to keep it from wavering, "I'm actually really glad it's you."
His head rose as your words processed in his brain, eyes meeting yours in search of any sign of dishonesty.
"Really?" he asked, shock still written all over his face. You pushed yourself off of the bed, reaching forward to grab his hands in yours.
"Really." His fingers squeezed yours ever so slightly, your secret signal for checking in on each other. Instead of squeezing back like you usually would, you leaned in, brushing your lips across the corner of his. It only took him half a second to recover before he was back on you. The kiss was slow, both of you testing the waters to ensure neither one of you ended up regretting what was happening.
When a soft sigh escaped your throat, he knew you were enjoying it just as much as he was. One of his hands disconnected from yours, quickly coming up to cup your cheek. Your hand followed his, gently resting against his warm skin. The two of you became lost in each other, tuning out the party ringing in the new year on the other side of the thin wall.
Yeosang broke away first, taking a second to catch his breath before squeezing your hand once again. Words weren't needed. All you had to do was send a confirming squeeze back and he was bringing you back to him, the new year not being the only thing you two were celebrating anymore.
San
"But we wanna stay up!" the tiny voice coming from the kitchen table had you laughing quietly as you washed the last of the dishes from dinner.
"Girls, we talked about this," San responded. "We will celebrate before you go to bed and then you get to wake up in a brand new year! How exciting is that?"
"But you and mommy are gonna be up. Why can't we?" Your older daughter pouted. She knew exactly how to manipulate your husband into doing exactly what she wanted. He was a sucker for those tear-filled eyes, almost always caving immediately after she pulled them out.
"Not this year," you chimed in, offering San some much needed backup.
"Come on girls, there is still plenty of fun to be had tonight. I promised you could give me one of your famous princess makeovers before shower time, didn't I?"
The mention of a makeover had both of the girls giggling and sprinting to their shared bathroom to gather all he necessary supplies. Their absence gave you the perfect opportunity to pad over behind San and wrap your arms around his middle.
"You're such an amazing dad," you mumbled as you squished your cheek into his shoulder blade.
"You're an even better mom," he said, placing his own hands on top of yours.
"Daddy!! Can we use the unicorn spray?" Your daughter shrieked down the hallway. You felt San tense under your grip and his head fell in agony knowing exactly where this night was now headed.
"Of course sweetie, whatever you two want tonight."
"You are such a sucker for them," you laughed.
"Well if you hadn't made them so damn adorable, then maybe I would have the ability to say no." He turned to face you, his signature pout creasing lines into his forehead.
"Hey, you helped make them. No shoving all the blame on me!"
"And I'm always willing to make more," he smirked. Your face turned his favorite shade of pink as you felt his hands reach down to cup your ass.
"Slow down there partner." You reached around and removed his hands from your backside, bringing them up to your face so that you could leave a few pecks on his knuckles. "Give me a few more months of bottle free living and I might take you up on that offer."
"You make a great point," he replied, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I better not keep those two waiting or the glitter will be in our toothbrushes again."
San slipped away from you, dragging his feet towards his imminent death. You took a moment to pray that your daughters wouldn't poke him in the eye too many times tonight. It only took one makeover for mascara to be banned from the bucket of makeup you kept for the girls.
You took the opportunity while they were all distracted to pick up around the house. All the new toys the girls had been gifted needed to find homes within your meticulous storage system. Usually you grabbed your headphones when you tackled tasks like this, but tonight there was a special soundtrack you were much more interested in listening to. The swell of giggles from the bathroom down the hallway followed by your husband's gasps of surprise was enough to keep you entertained while you tidied the living room.
You had always known San would make the best dad. He was always so gentle with your nieces and nephews when you were still just dating. In fact, you were usually the one beating back the baby fever he came home with after spending time with kids. So it was no surprise that just a few months after getting married he was beginning to talk to you about having kids of your own.
Five years later and you couldn't be happier with the little family you had created. Sure it was exhausting, and life could get pretty messy sometimes, but you wouldn't trade it for the world. Especially not when you got to experience San turning the corner into the living room after the princess makeover had concluded.
It was nearly impossible not to laugh as you inspected the beautiful work your girls had done. A bright shade of purple surrounded his eyes which nearly blended into the hot pink blush that was caked onto his cheeks. Your favorite part though, was the blue lipstick that was smeared haphazardly across his lips.
"Daddy's so pretty!" your youngest squealed as she jumped around San's legs.
"He is! So, so pretty," you brought your hand up to try to conceal your laughter.
"I found them!" your other daughter came sprinting down the hallway from her room waving the ceremonial tiaras wildly in her tiny fist. She passed one to her sister before making San kneel down in front of her, brows furrowing as she placed the bedazzled plastic into the glittery gel mess that was his hair. "Pretty princess!"
"Oh this is one of my favorite princess looks you two have done," you gushed. San's head swiveled to look at you as the snap of your phone camera went off. You were in so much trouble now because he knew exactly which group of people you planned on sending that photo to.
"Don't you dare," he warned. Unfortunately for him, your thumbs moved faster than he could and the rest of ATEEZ now had perfect blackmail material. "Y/n."
The tone of his voice had your brain screaming at you to run, and run you did. You made it all the way through the kitchen and to your bedroom door before San's arms yanked you back against him, trapping you against his chest.
"San!" you shouted, playfully slapping at his chest. "Let me gooooo!"
"Nope, you deserve this." His sticky blue lips started pressing against every inch of your face leaving an incredibly unpleasant residue in their wake.
"Girls! Help! Your princess has gone feral!" Within seconds San had a girl tugging on each arm, fighting to free their damsel in distress mother from the crazed princess.
"Ahhh, you're too powerful!" San playfully struggled against their small hands before sinking to his knees in feigned defeat.
"Thank you ladies, you saved me!" You scooped the two of them up, showering their faces with kisses. "And now I think it's time for our brave princesses to take a bath."
Their groans only lasted a few seconds, being replaced by cheers once you told them they could pick out a bath bomb from under the sink to use tonight. San, being the saint he was, followed them back down to the bathroom and started setting up the bath.
Your family's nighttime routine had become pretty standard. San would give the girls baths and you would make tea for the two of you to drink after reading a bedtime story. While the girls were still going to be going to bed after their bath, you decided the tea could wait until after midnight. Instead, you started pulling out the supplies for your special skincare routine. On nights that called for little extra pampering, you and San would spend extra long cleansing and moisturizing the day away.
You had just finished slipping into your pajamas when you heard the door to your bedroom softly close behind you. San made his way towards the master bathroom, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he made his way past you. You wordlessly followed him to where he now sat at your vanity, eyes closed in preparation for your makeup removal services.
"Took a while for them to settle down tonight," you commented as you began wiping the masterpiece your daughters created away.
"It took three books for them to lay still. Another two before they were sleeping," he explained. You could see the tension releasing from his shoulders the longer you worked. And once the sheet mask was delicately placed, you were afraid that he too had fallen asleep.
"All done," you whispered, rubbing his shoulders from where you stood behind him. When his eyes blinked open they instantly locked on yours and you were slammed with a wave of affection. He looked at you as if he had never seen the stars until this moment.
"I love you," he smiled.
"I love you, too." San turned in his chair, concealing a yawn behind his hand as he stood up. "You look a little tired. Should we give in to our prehistoric ages and go to bed early?"
"What about our midnight kiss? We haven't skipped it since we started dating." His protests were proven completely useless as he yawned again, his eyes starting to gloss over with exhaustion.
"I really don't mind, babe. Plus, it's already midnight somewhere else in the world! Maybe we just pretend like we are there so we can get our beauty rest. The girls were a handful tonight." You stepped forward to rest your hands on San's chest before smiling up at him.
"Happy fake new year," he whispered, leaning down to press his lips softly against yours. You could feel every ounce of love he put behind the kiss, hoping that he felt even a fraction of it in return. It didn't last long, but it didn't have to. The message was clear - this year was going to be a good one.
Wooyoung
It was supposed to be a small party. "Just us and the guys," Wooyoung had promised. And yet, you now stood surrounded by dozens of people. Friends of friends, family, and even some KQ staff. The little get together at Hongjoong's penthouse turned into a blowout party. And being your typical anxious self, you couldn't hold a conversation with a stranger to save your life. So, instead, you drank.
You stopped counting after the fifth refill. You weren't even sure what was in your plastic cup, but whatever it was, it was strong. A multitude of flavors danced on your tongue, each one impossible to place, but you didn't taste the alcohol. Which was both a blessing an a curse, but you were too drunk to care about your future hangover. That was a problem for next year.
You threw back the last dregs of your drink, and in a swirly daze, looked to the kitchen. The punch bowl was constantly full, and it was calling out your name again. But you stopped mid-first step when you realized it was surrounded by people you didn't know. The thought of asking them to move was enough to turn your stomach.
In fact, between that and the way your head was floating off your shoulders, you figured it was best to leave your cup empty for now. Being surrounded by all these people was really starting to get to you. You didn't even remember the last time you saw your friends. Seonghwa was talking to some producers an hour ago, and you're pretty sure you saw San passed out on a couch after three beers. Yunho and Mingi tried starting a conga line, but they gave that up pretty quickly. As for everyone else, you had no idea.
The penthouse was big, but even then, it started to feel stifling in here. You knew there was a door to the balcony around here somewhere. It was too cold outside for the party, but maybe that was a good thing. Cool air and quiet might calm your nerves a bit.
You squeezed between shoulders, mumbling apologies here and there, and finally reached the door to the outside. You were relieved to find the sliding glass door unlocked. It slid open easily, and cold air hit your face, stinging with a harsh chill.
But the relief was instant. The loud music was muffled through the thick glass, and your uneasy stomach was calming down a little bit. You headed towards the edge of the balcony and took in the view of the city. Light twinkled from all the buildings, fireworks went off in the distance, party boats floated down the Han River. It didn't take long for the veritgo to set in at looking down from such a tall height.
Head swimming even more than before, you turned away from the edge and froze when you saw someone else out here. Embarrassment flooded your veins, and an apology formed on your tongue for interrupting their privacy.
"That you, y/n?"
"Wooyoung!" His name was off your lips before your brain even fully comprehended the sound of his voice. It took a lot of focus, but you made your way over to him. "What're you doing-out-here?" Shit, your words were all slurred.
Half smiling, he looked you over, eyes lingering on the empty cup still clutched in your hand. "Thought you left a while ago?"
You shook your head, the world spinning with the motion. "Mmmmstill here," you shrugged. "You didn't-answer mmquestion."
"Oh, uh," he said. "Got loud in there, I guess."
You didn't mean to get so close to him, and you were surprised to feel his warm breath on your cheeks. But there was something enticing about the mixing of his cologne and the alcohol he's had. Maybe it was all the alcohol in your own system, but...was he always this cute? Was it the cold or the alcohol that was making him blush like that? Or was it something else?
"Yeah," you mumbled. "Loud."
"Not really either of our thing, huh?" he asked.
Before you could answer, a loud burst of cheers erupted from inside, muffled by the glass walls but still loud enough to draw attention. You both looked inside, and saw that the new year countdown was fast approaching. Thirty seconds now.
"Almost midnight" Wooyoung said.
"Mmhmm."
"You, um, have any resolutions?"
Did you? You hadn't set anything in stone. The usual ones crossed your mind. Exercise more. Eat better. Read more books. But those were all boring and never actually stuck. So instead, you shrugged again.
"What about you?" you asked.
"I dunno," he admitted. "Between the comeback soon and the tour we're gonna announce....Not too sure I have the time for anything else. I mean..."
Ten.
He said something under his breath. Something you couldn't quite catch.
"Huh?"
Nine
He shook his head quickly, but the blush on his cheeks was impossible to miss. You couldn't help from reaching for his arm and shaking it.
Eight.
"Tell me."
Seven.
"Nope."
Six
You tugged on his wrist. "Tell me, Wooooo."
Five.
He ran his fingers through his hair, a familiar nervous tick of his. One that you were suddenly finding incredibly endearing.
Four.
You don't know who moved first.
Three.
You were vaguely aware of the shouting of the countdown coming from inside and from the other rooftops.
Two.
But the next thing you knew his breath was mixing with yours, warming the chill from your lips.
One.
You melted against your best friend's mouth. The very same mouth that's teased you endlessly for years. The very same best friend you pushed to become an idol. The very same boy you were never brave enough to ask out. And here he was. Kissing you. On New Year's.
He started to pull away, but you chased after him, keeping your lips on his. You grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him closer. He laughed against your mouth, but didn't resist. His hands rested on your hips instead, pressing his body flush with yours.
Only when your head was spinning and your lungs aching for air, did you pull away. You blinked up at him, butterflies dancing in your stomach as the weight of reality set in.
Shit.
Was that real? Did you really just kiss him?
"Y/n?" he asked, his eyes suddenly full of worry.
Dizzy. So. Fucking. Dizzy.
The world was doing cartwheels around you. And those most definitely were not butterflies in your stomach.
The dubious concoction of juices and alcohols was a lot more volatile on the return trip. There was no way you were making it to the toilet, or even to the trash can. The potted plant would have to do. You could apologize to Hongjoong later.
You felt your hair being pulled back, out of your face while you emptied the contents of your stomach. A gentle hand rubbed circles against your back. A groan slipped out of you once you were able to catch your breath.
"You're okay, y/n," Wooyoung said softly from right beside you.
"Mmmsorry."
You wanted to say so much more, but words were not on your body's list of priorities right now. You head was still doing pirouettes, and now your vision was going dark. But Wooyoung was still there, his hands gentle and sure.
"Just let it out, baby," he said. And then he added in a mutter you aren't even sure you heard, "You won't remember it anyway."
Kissing ATEEZ at midnight on NYE
Members Included: Hongjoong, Yunho, Mingi, Jongho (Other members can be found in pt. 2)
Word Count: Each member ~1 - 1.5k words
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
Hongjoong
You had meant to go to bed hours ago. There was no reason to be up this late, alone, on New Year's Eve. It was not helping the ache in your heart that had been growing for the past week and a half. In fact, it was driving that crack deeper and deeper. Every time you convinced yourself to go to bed, the weight of your loneliness pushed you further into the cushions of your sofa.
You knew you had signed up for this when you started dating Hongjoong. He was an idol, his schedules were unpredictable and perpetually full. And you couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty when the loneliness trampled you like this. It wasn't that you didn't want him working. You just wanted there to be a limit to how long he could be away from you. Mandatory weekly boyfriend time seemed like a simple enough request...
You were vaguely aware of the hosts on your TV getting ready to start the minute countdown to midnight. Your thoughts continued to spiral as the screen flashed through various shots of party-goers, couples clinging to each other as they waiting to ring in the new year together. And here you were, ready to do the same thing all alone.
"One minute left of the year! Make sure your special someone is close by," the host giggled, sending a wink at the camera. The comment sent a pang of sadness straight through you, your heart sinking down to your stomach.
Maybe he's not busy. I can try calling him
You blindly patted around the couch for your phone, cursing to yourself as you came up empty handed. The damn couch and it's ability to swallow anything you placed down for a minute. You groaned as you hauled yourself up to sit, sliding your right hand down between the cushions that most likely harbored the lost device.
"30 seconds now!" the countdown continued.
Your hand came back empty, a fresh wave of annoyance settling over you as you angrily shook your blanket out. A loud thunk sounded as your phone met the hardwood flooring. "Ugh," you groaned having to scrape yourself off the couch to retrieve it.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you went to stand, hearing the front door swinging open without warning behind you. Having nothing resembling a weapon within arms reach, you opted for a pillow - winding your arm back, ready to attack the assailant.
"We have got to work on your self defense skills, babe."
Somehow, someway Hongjoong was standing in the doorway. His small suitcase that the two of you had packed together before he left was tucked next to him, his clothes slightly disheveled from the day of travel. He wasn't supposed to be back for another week. You were sure they had a schedule in Japan starting the next day, and yet he was here.
"Are you gonna throw that at me still?" He asked, nodding towards your arm that was still primed to fling the pillow.
"Why- How? How are you here?" You asked incredulously.
"Surprise!" he laughed, finally stepping fully into the apartment. "I wanted to make sure we started the year the right way. And I couldn't do that from a hotel room in another country. So I shifted some things around... I thought you would be in bed..." he trailed off, his smile faltering as he watched your reactions.
You weren't sure when the tears started falling, but your cheeks were damp as your feet began to shuffle towards him. Hongjoong's arms opened immediately, tugging you against him as soon as you were within grabbing distance.
"I missed you so much," you mumbled into his chest where your face was now buried.
"I missed you more," he whispered against the crown of your head. There was a beat of silence between the two of you, enough time for the voices from your TV to make sense again as they counted the final three seconds of the year away.
Hongjoong moved before you had the chance, his body leaning back so that he could cup your face with one of his hands. He leaned down, lips finding yours just as the fireworks began to light up the screen. You melted against him, fingers quickly tangling in his hair and pulling him closer - afraid that he would disappear if you didn't hold on to him.
The world faded around the two of you, time no longer holding any meaning as you lost yourself in the way his warmth flooded through the cracks in your heart.
"Happy new year, y/n." Hongjoong mumbles against your lips.
"Thank you," you replied, giving yourself enough room to tilt your head back and look up at him.
"For what?" he chuckled, eyes sparkling in the dim light of your living room.
"For already making this year my favorite one."
Yunho
The party was loud. Bodies were pressed into every corner of the apartment - some dancing, others talking, a handful participating in things that should definitely be moved elsewhere. You found yourself in the kitchen for the fourth or fifth time that night, browsing the endless supply of alcohol that was spread across every flat surface in sight.
"Y/n!" you heard somebody shout from the doorway to your left. Your heartrate increased, recognizing the timbre of his voice almost immediately. And still, nothing could have prepared you for seeing Mingi standing there, his lazy smile easing across his lips just like always. "I didn't think you would be here. It's been ages!"
"Good to see you Ming," you smiled politely, immediately grabbing the strongest drink within your arms reach and downing half of it. It's not that you didn't think they would be here at all - the host of the party was a mutual friend of yours and the boys, but you just hoped that they would all be way too busy to show up to some house party on New Year's Eve.
"How have things been?" he makes his way closer to you, leaning past you to grab another beer.
"Same old, same old. How about you and the guys? Still galivanting across the world? Living your dreams and all that?" You were trying to keep things light for the sake of your own mental sanity. It had been two years since you and Yunho broke up. Both of you had moved on by now, or at least you did... mostly.
"Yeah, yeah. Everything is great." The pause in conversation was awkward. You know he wanted to ask more questions. Mingi had spent months after the breakup trying to patch things over between the two of you, but there was no taking back the words you and Yunho had said to each other. There was no fixing it. "I'm sure they would love to see you-"
"I don't think it's a good idea," you interrupted him.
"Y/n," he pleaded, moving to grab your hand.
"No, Mingi." You took a step back, avoiding his touch. "Tell everybody I say hi and happy new year. I'm going to go find my friend." You left the kitchen before he could respond.
Somehow, the packed living room allowed for you to breathe easier. You slipped into the sea of bodies, allowing the mixture of bone-rattling bass and cup of whatever you had grabbed to melt away the sharp pangs of anxiety. The alcohol was working wonders as it seeped it's way deeper into your consciousness. Your thoughts were starting to get fuzzy as time slipped away from you.
You weren't sure how you ended up dancing with the stranger you now had your arms wrapped around, but it felt good. You needed a little bit of harmless fun. Desperate to erase the conversation with Mingi out of your mind for good. And this was just the right thing to keep you distracted.
That is, until your eyes met his from across the room. He was next to Mingi, half listening to whatever was being said. His posture was relaxed, but you saw straight through it. You knew that look. You had fallen in love with that look. And if you were smart, or maybe less inebriated, you would have turned around and walked right out the front door away from that look.
But no, you craved bad ideas like the one that had now wormed its way into your brain. You could see Yunho’s jaw ticking every time your body pressed against your dance partner. He was always so possessive, getting jealous over anybody even thinking about you. It was one of the reasons you broke up in the first place, unable to deal with how pissed off he would always get when the two of you went out. But now he had no reason for the jealousy. You weren’t his, and you planned on reminding him of that.
One song bled into the next, and soon enough your back was pressed against the man you still didn’t know the name of. It didn’t matter, he was just a pawn in your and Yunho’s game of chess. You welcomed the hands that explored every inch of you, encouraged them even as your dance moves became less about staying on beat and more about making a statement.
You turned your head to glance back at where Yunho had been to find the spot vacant. Mingi caught your eyes and gave you a look as if to say you've done it now...
"I think that's quite enough." His voice set a chill down your spine, the usual lightness to his words was nowhere to be found.
"Dude, she's clearly enjoying herself. Get lost." Your dance partner had some balls, you'll give him that much. But you knew it was pointless, Yunho gets what he wants - always.
"I said get your hands off of her." His gaze darkened and you could sense that he was seconds away from doing something entirely too stupid. Which is exactly why reached for Yunho's arm, yanking him through the crowd to hopefully defuse his bubbling rage.
"What was that all about?" you turned to him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Did you forget what year it was or something?"
"As if you weren't trying to undress me with your eyes from across the room while grinding up on whoever that was," he countered.
"In your dreams, Yunho," you scoffed.
"Yeah, it does happen in my dreams," he admitted. You choke on air, unsure if you had heard him right. "Almost every night. You're like a damn ghost, y/n, haunting me for years."
"I-" you tried to calm your thoughts down. Thousands of questions were begging to burst through your lips, but nothing was sticking long enough to make it's way out of your mouth. "I thought you had moved on."
"You thought-" he let out an incredulous laugh. "I would have done anything to move on. It would have been so much easier to forget everything - everything we did, everything you meant - but I couldn't." He took a deep breath before hesitantly taking your hand in his. "I can't"
A familiar warmth spread from where he touched you, reminding you of every memory of him you had shoved deep down. You had gotten so good at ignoring the pain, ignoring the desire to pick up the phone and call him. It took months and months of work to feel comfortable in your own space again. And here he was tonight, undoing all that work in just a few short hours.
"I miss you."
Yunho's eyes widen, unsure if he heard your whispered words correctly. You don't dare repeat yourself. In fact you were already kicking yourself for admitting it in the first place.
"You do?"
Before you can explain yourself the crowd goes wild, everybody shouting the countdown to midnight over the music that was still shaking the walls.
"FIVE!"
You stepped forward, hands resting lightly on his chest.
"FOUR!"
One of his arms wraps around you, tugging you closer to him.
"THREE!"
You look up at him, smiling at the familiarity of your actions.
"TWO!"
His free hand finds the same spot it always did on your neck, thumb rubbing light circles on your jaw before
"ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!"
His lips collided with yours as the cheers rang out. Your heart sang as the last of your carefully constructed walls fell apart. He kissed you as if you were slipping away already, hands holding you firmly in place against him. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, hungry for more. Thankfully you didn't need much convincing to allow him to deepen the kiss, your tongues now darting into each other's mouths - reacquainting yourselves after so much lost time.
If it weren't for your body's need for oxygen you would have stood there, attached to him, for hours. But you begrudgingly broke apart, not moving too far - just enough to catch your breath.
"We still have a lot to talk about," you warned him.
"Yes, but that's a problem for tomorrow us. Tonight us has 2 years to make up for," his eyes glinted with mischief.
You rolled your eyes, but he knew it was all just an act. He had you exactly where he wanted you, and this time you didn't think you were going to fight back.
Mingi
"Come on, this is my favorite song!"
"You've said that about the last four songs!" you shouted over the ear-splitting music. You had allowed your friend to drag you out to some club to celebrate New Years, and as the night grew closer and closer to midnight, you realized just how lame you had become in your ancient years. Your feet hurt, a headache was forming, and you craved nothing more than to be wrapped up in the warm blankets of your memory foam bed.
"It's almost midniiiight," your friend slurred, tugging against your arm in hopes of getting you back onto the dance floor. "We still gotta find some boys to kiss!"
And there was the other thorn in your side currently. She was obsessed with finding somebody to kiss at midnight - for both of you. It had been fun at first, eyeing all the potential candidates as you sipped your first two drinks of the night. But as the night grew longer, the pool of bachelors was getting incredibly sparse. Almost everybody on the dance floor had paired off - dancing, drinking, groping. Not that this was going to stop your friend from scanning the room yet again.
"Come on! Maybe tall dark and handsome is back out there!"
The nickname had your cheeks heating immediately. About half an hour into your escapades that night, your eyes had caught on a guy across the club from you. He was at least three inches taller than everybody else around him, dazzling smile, devastatingly sharp features. You would bet money on him being a model of some sort. Any other line of work would be such a waste of potential.
You hadn't meant to stare at him. He was just so pretty. You were trying to figure out how a human could even look like that when his eyes scanned the room and landed on you. A knowing grin broke across his lips - you had been caught gawking. The embarrassment was enough to send you plunging deeper into the crowd, moving along with the pulsing beats until you forgot what he looked like.
That was until you caught his gaze an hour later. This time he found you first, waiting until you twirled around in your friends grasp to pull that lazy smirk across his lips. Even the four vodka sodas couldn't stop you from wanting to hide away, the room suddenly becoming ten degrees warmer under his stare.
"Ooh, nice catch!" your fried giggled against your ear. "You should go say hi!"
"No way in hell, he belongs in like an art museum or something." Even after denying her, your friend wouldn't let it go. It had turned into her favorite game of the night. She dragged you across the club three different times in a thinly-veiled attempt to get you in his proximity. (Thankfully) none of it had worked. The guy was clearly wrapped up with his friends, having his own fun night out.
You figured you could entertain her last ditch efforts to push you together with the mystery man, letting her tug you away from the booth you had claimed an hour ago when you were seconds away from sawing your own feet off. The dancefloor was somehow even more packed than before, the floor sticky with spilled drinks.
The two of you wandered around the edges of the crowd before your friend yanked you through people that definitely were not trying to create space for you.
She found him.
Not only had she found him, but she had now placed you back to back with him.
“Come on, dance or he’s gonna think we’re weird!” She shouted
Her hands grabbed yours, forcing your body to start moving with the beat. You loosened up after the first song, not needing her guidance much anymore to keep you dancing.
You were just on the verge of having some genuine fun when an incredibly over served girl fell into you, pushing you backwards. Your arms shot out, bracing for an impact that never came. Instead you felt a pressure around your waist, somebody’s hands steadying you back on your feet.
“You okay?” You felt his breath against your neck as he leaned in to speak. And of course even his voice was attractive. You were glad he was still supporting you, afraid that if he let go you might turn into a puddle from the small interaction.
“Yeah,” you nodded, trying your best to even out your voice. “Sorry about that."
“No complaints here. Especially not when it’s you that fell into my arms.” His words had your cheeks burning. “I was hoping you would get the confidence to walk over.”
“And why exactly is that?” Two can play at this game, pretty boy.
“You don’t wear a dress like that without wanting people to notice you, sweetheart.” His eyes dipped down to the neckline of your dress that left little to the imagination. You should thank your friend later for encouraging you to wear it.
“And are you saying it worked?” You teased, an eyebrow lifting in question.
“One thousand percent. Even had me thinking about finding you myself. But here you are, falling into my arms.”
“How convenient.”
“Convenient indeed. Now that I have you though, care to dance?” His head tilted to the side, his perfectly straight teeth flashing at you behind his crooked smile.
Once you agreed, his hands adjusted to pull you closer to him. Your bodies started moving naturally to the rhythm as you focused on keeping your heart rate down to a manageable pace. It was nearly impossible considering how close you now were to the man you had been eyeing all night.
“What’s your name?” He purred against the shell of your ear.
“Y/n,” you responded, pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes to ensure he heard you.
“Y/n,” the way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m Mingi. Now I won’t feel as weird when I do this.”
You were still processing his name when you felt his soft lips press against yours. Your body reacted before your brain could catch up, hands wrapping around his neck. He tasted like a mix of spearmint and whatever drink had been in his glass that night. He was intoxicating. The longer your lips melded together, the fuzzier everything around you became. You didn't break away until you felt something bounce off of your shoulder, then another, and another. Your eyes took a second to refocus before you could make out the silver and gold balloons bouncing around the crowd, confetti slowly sticking to everybody's sweaty bodies.
"Happy new year," Mingi said, pressing another kiss to your lips. "You wanna maybe.. get out of here?"
Your eyes flicked over to where your friend now stood, giving you an overexaggerated thumbs up.
"Absolutely," you answered before pulling him in for one more kiss. Taking his hand in yours, you led him back through the sea of bodies - maybe going out tonight hadn't been such a horrible idea.
Jongho
"That is absolutely vile," you shrieked, watching as Mingi takes a sip of the disgusting concoction Wooyoung had just mixed up. You were pretty sure you saw him add three different kinds of hot sauce to the lukewarm cup of beer that Mingi was now clutching.
There was no mercy in tonight's game of truth or dare. It had only been thirty minutes since you had started playing and San was already a permanent shade of red from having to give a detailed explanation of his last hookup, Seonghwa was still trying to do damage control after having to upload a questionable selfie to his instagram story, and Jongho was... well annoyingly calm.
He was always the best at these games, never showing the others any weakness that could be used against him. He was methodical, practiced, and frustratingly too damn good at this.
"Alright, y/n. Truth or dare?" Yunho asked, recapturing everybody's attention after listening to Mingi dry heave for far too long.
"Ummm truth," you answered. It wasn't that you were too scared to do a dare - in fact you usually completed them with little to no issue - it was just that you saw how Wooyoung was still eyeing the bottles of hot sauce and figured you would try to protect yourself from the impending stomach ulcers.
"If you had to kiss somebody in this room, who would it be?" Half of the room broke out into laughter, the other half ooh-ing at the high stakes question. Blush creeped up your neck and the sweater you were wearing suddenly became suffocating.
"Uh," you tried your hardest to control the waver in your voice. How you reacted was only going to make things worse when you finally spat out an answer. If you looked too nervous they would all know that you had been hopelessly in love with Jongho since you had been introduced to him. "I-I don't know."
"Come on, you've never thought about kissing any of us?" Wooyoung butt in, leaning so that he was now touching your shoulder.
"Not really," you lied. "But if I had to... I guess I would maybe go with Jongho?" you cringed as you stuttered through your sentence.
The room erupted into chaos. Wooyoung was shaking you - jokingly pleading his case for why he should have been chosen, Yunho and Yeosang were poking Jongho trying to get a reaction, the rest of the boys cheering on the ridiculousness of everybody else.
"Alright, calm down everybody," Hongjoong's voice sounds out over all of the commotion. "Jongho, you're next. Truth or dare?"
You were incredibly grateful for the captain's interjection, fearful that one of them would have pressured you for more of an explanation in your choice.
"Dare." Everybody knew what he would choose, very rarely did he ever select truth - always claiming it was too boring.
"Okay, this one is a secret. You have to complete it when I tell you to." Hongjoong's grin had everybody on their edge of their seat trying to make out what he whispered to the maknae. Whatever it was had Jongho's eyes growing wide, the first reaction of the night from him.
"And I have to-"
"No sooner, no later," Hongjoong smirked, easing back into his chair and sipping on the beer he had been nursing most of the night.
"This is so not fair," San whined.
"Yeah how come he gets it easy," Mingi huffed, clearly still upset about the cup of mystery liquid he had been forced to sip.
"You just need to trust the process. I'm not letting him off easy." Hongjoong reassured everybody. And just like that the game continued. Yeosang was dared to lick Wooyoung's foot, Hongjoong had to call his mom and ask who her favorite member was (which gave Seonghwa perfect ammo to use against him in the future), and Yunho had to go live for thirty seconds and just stare at the camera.
"Oh shit, it's almost midnight," Wooyoung said after checking his phone.
"Anybody need a refill?" you asked, peeling yourself from where you had started to sink between the couch cushions. A chorus of yes's were flung at you as you crossed the living room towards the kitchen.
"I'll come help you," Jongho said, following in step behind you.
His proximity sent a flurry of butterflies loose in your stomach. You did your best to focus on the cold sting of the tiles beneath your feet in a futile attempt to calm your nerves. The fridge opened halfway before your arm met resistance. You looked over to see what was in the way and were met with Jongho's hand pressing against the door. You tilted your head, wondering why he was stopping you from grabbing the very things you came to the kitchen to retrieve.
"Y/n." His voice was a stark contrast to the mood of the other room, dipping lower than his usual tone.
"Yeah Jongho?" Sweat started to bead on your forehead as you considered whether or not this was him cornering you over your answer to the question earlier.
"Did you really mean what you said?" As if his words hadn't trapped you enough, his arms moved to cage you against the counter. He smirked as he saw you squirm under his gaze, your reactions only seeming to add fuel to his fire. "You would really choose me?"
"Jjong," you pouted, hoping that you could cute your way out of the situation. Luck didn't seem to be on your side tonight because Jongho didn't move a muscle, calmly waiting for you to answer his question.
"I've got all night."
"No you don't!" A voice called from the hallway, Hongjoong you were pretty sure.
"What-" before you could get your question out the other room began the ten second countdown until midnight. "We should go."
"Actually, I'm right where I need to be," he said, leaning further towards where you were trapped between his arms. The tension in the air was palpable. His words, the look that had settled across his features - you were still trying to figure it out when you heard the cries of the new year ring out a room away.
Not even a second later, Jongho's lips were pressing against yours. It was a quick peck. So quick you didn't have time to respond before he was pulling away.
"Wait," you gasped, throwing your arms around him and pulling him back in for another kiss. His lips were firm against yours, uncertainty melting away into desire as the kiss deepened. You weren't sure where the confidence came from, maybe it was the look he had given you when you answered your truth question, or perhaps it was because he had kissed you first. In any case, you didn't want to stop any time soon.
A new round of cheers erupted from the doorway. What were they up to now?
You reluctantly pulled away from Jongho and glanced over his shoulder, wanting to do nothing more than crawl into the cabinets behind you when you saw all seven boys crowded in the hallway watching the two of you.
"He did it!" Wooyoung shouted, jumping excitedly next to Yeosang who looked like a proud brother.
"Hyung, does this have anything to do with your super secretive dare from earlier?" San asked, sending a pointed look over to Hongjoong.
"I promise that's not the only reason this happened," Jongho whispered hurriedly, not wanting your feelings to get hurt thinking this was all just part of the game.
"Even if it was I'm glad it did," you smiled, pecking him quickly on the cheek before leaning around him. "And I guess I should thank you, Joong."
"Just don't expect any more help when you're ready to take your relationship further. I draw the line at getting my members laid."
Pairing: Yeosang x Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: There is no better way to spend Yeosang's day off than snuggled together watching your favorite holiday movies.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, grinding/thigh riding, dirty talk, praise kink (“good girl”), light D/s dynamics, teasing/edging, possessive language, multiple orgasms, explicit language. MDNI
Holiday Masterlist
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
"Pajamas?"
"Check."
"Fuzzy socks?"
"Check."
"And you're stopping at that Thai place down the street before you get here?" you asked, phone pressed to your ear as you paced around your freshly cleaned apartment. You and your boyfriend had made these plans a month ago, knowing how busy his schedule got around the holidays. It was three days before Christmas which made it the perfect opportunity for the two of you to snuggle up on your couch and watch all the holiday movies you possibly could in one day.
"Yes, sweetheart. I will be there in thirty minutes with all the Pad Thai you could wish for," Yeosang's voice filters through the speaker. "I'll see you soon okay?"
"Alright Yeo, I love you."
"I love you too." Your arm dropped as you heard the call disconnect.
What to do while I wait... You had already set up the living room with every blanket you could find, pillows from your bed that were now thrown haphazardly across the couch, and your and Yeosang's favorite snacks piled on top of the coffee table.
You weren't sure why anxiety decided to ease itself into you. Yeosang had been to your apartment plenty of times. Stayed the night plenty of times. But still, you felt a strange twist in your stomach as you came to terms with the fact that he was very much on his way to see you. Maybe you were still unsure of how exactly a man that could ever love somebody like you. But as soon as those thoughts bloomed, they were shut out by his comforting promises he never failed to leave you with.
The candles resting on your kitchen island were begging to be lit, so you made your way over to find the lighter. The soft scent of pine relaxed your nerves that seemed to be permanently stretched taught against your frame. There was nothing to worry about - just your incredibly attractive, globally loved, jaw-dropping boyfriend. You still weren't sure why he chose you, but for his sake - you did your best to own up to his commitment. It's not that you questioned his love, you were just afraid of it.
You decided that the safest place for you was nestled deep within the pillows and blankets you had conjured. Perhaps the warmth would be enough to soothe your racing heart. After about five minutes you could feel your muscles relax, fully enjoying the comfort your haphazard nest of comfort items offered.
Your eyes closed for a minute, two max - you swore. A sharp knock startled you back awake, stumbling towards the door of your apartment. As soon as the door opened a crack, warmth rushed around you. Yeosang's arms found purchase around your waist as they always did, one of them weighed down by the carry-out he so graciously brought you.
"Hi baby." His lips were curled into a smile before leaving small pecks across your cheeks.
"Hi!" You couldn't hold back how excited you were to finally have some time with your perpetually busy boyfriend. "I uh, I think everything is ready. You said Home Alone first right?" Your hands slipped down to his free one, tugging him further into the space you had prepared for today.
"Yeah, I can't believe you haven't seen it," he said, following you deeper into your apartment.
Soon enough the bags of take out were torn open, the movie beginning to play. You leaned against him as your chopsticks brought every delicious morsel of Pad Thai to your lips. This meal had been a staple in your relationship, the closeness of the restaurant to your apartment coming into play more frequently than you cared to admit.
"Still your favorite?" Yeosang asked, taking the empty takeout tray from your hands to place back on the coffee table.
"Always," you leaned back against him, focusing back on the movie that was playing on the TV. You giggled as you watched how Kevin warded off his enemies, unaware of what traps he might have waiting for the intruders.
Yeosang's arms were a constant presence against your waist throughout the entirety of the movie. They weren't needy per say, but definitely held a bit of possessiveness. A possessiveness you loved - so much so he often reminded you of their feeling every time you met. You savored his touch, his hands dancing across your abdomen. The heat that pooled within you was embarrassing at first. Did he mean to do that?
As his hands continued to massage circles against your hips you had your answer. This afternoon was in his hands, and you were willingly going to let him guide you. Your eyes were still trained on the TV screen - brain fully trying to comprehend the movie as you felt Yeosang's fingers graze across your sides.
It wasn't long until you let out a breathy moan as his hands worked across the sensitive skin of your midsection- his fingers suddenly becoming ever so slightly more bold. You didn't care that you had never seen this movie, you could watch it later. All that mattered right now was the delicate gliding of Yeosang's fingers against your scorching skin.
His hand ran across the hem of your shirt, fingers dipping below ever so slightly. The warmth of him had your thoughts running a million miles a minute. You wanted so badly to push against his hands, showing him exactly where you needed him. But you knew he was aware of how to take care of you, his practiced hands kneading against the skin of your hips.
"Yeo," you couldn't help whimpering, His fingers dug into your skin in response, finally pushing under the waistband of your pajamas just barely.
"What do you need angel?" his voice dipped, dripping with desire. His fingers stalled against you, waiting for your response.
"I-" your mind was already partially melted, knowing what exactly was in store for you. "I need you." you huffed.
"I'm right here, sweetheart." He pulled you up so that you were sitting, back resting against his chest. "What do you really need."
Your hips pushed involuntarily up against his fingers, attempting to find any type of pressure. Instead of the promising friction you sought after, his fingers trailed away from where you needed him most. His light chuckle had your hips slamming back down against the couch, immediately knowing what type of mood he was in.
"Use your words sweet girl." His voice came across as a breath against the shell of your ear, sending shivers down your entire body.
"Need you." Your voice came through as a breathy wine, squirming back against the warmth of your boyfriend - trying to convince him of touching you in any way at this point.
"Need me where?" he continued to tease. "Here?" His fingers brushed the underside of your bra before trailing lower. "Or here?" His hands kneaded the delicate skin at your hips, rubbing in slow circles. "Maybe," he paused - dragging his fingers over your clothed core ever so lightly before sliding between your thighs. Your legs opened for him in an instant, breath catching as he pulled one of them up and over his. "Still waiting for an answer, angel."
"There," you respond before even trying to think. "Everywhere, anywhere."
Yeosang's chest vibrated with laughter, loving how easy it was to get you desperate for him. His teasing touches seamlessly slipped into more demanding grabbing against your thighs, still refusing to move any closer to where you really needed him.
"Sangie, stop teasing," you pouted, turning just enough so that you could stare up at him and bat your eyelashes - a known weakness of his that you had learned about only one month into your relationship. He was absolutely wrapped around your finger since day one no matter how much he tried to deny it. Today, however, he was doing his best to fight against your charming ways.
"What about our movie, hm?" he tore his eyes away from yours, nodding up towards the screen that was still playing the long forgotten film. "This is my favorite part."
You knew he was lying. He was a horrible liar. The way the corner of his mouth twitched was a dead giveaway as he attempted to suppress his grin. This was a game to him, seeing how far he could push you before you all but threw yourself at him. Lucky for him, you were already at that point.
You pushed yourself up from where you had been laying against him, turning around so that you could sit back down straddling one of his legs.
"Please, Sangie?" you pouted, grinding down against his fleece covered thigh. "I've been so good." Your hips dragged back against him, finally creating the much sought after friction you desired.
"This is you being good?" he questioned, fighting against the need to grab your hips. "I thought we were supposed to watch movies today?"
"We can-" your sentence was broken off by a breathy moan that slipped from somewhere deep within you, pushing you to move your hips faster - chasing the high that began to coil deep in your belly. "We can watch more later."
"Hm," Yeosang acted as if he was deep in thought, as if the growing bulge in his pajamas wasn't a big enough sign of what his decision would be. "Make yourself come just like this and I might pause the movie."
His words alone had you nearly tipping over the edge. Your eyes squeezed shut as you focused on the steady pressure his thigh offered. Each drag of your hips had pathetic mewls tumbling out of your lips. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. You were desperately grinding against him now - close but not close enough. There were too many damn layers. It would feel so much better if-
"Take these off," Yeosang's request had you stilling in an instant, feeling one of his fingers dip below the waistband of your pajamas ever so slightly. He always knew what you needed, sometimes before you even did. You stood up just enough to peel your pajamas down your legs, hands quickly coming back up to do the same with your underwear.
"Ah, not so fast," his hand caught yours before you could rid yourself of the delicate lace. "Keep those on."
"Yeo," you whined.
"y/n," his voice dropped, erasing any and all thoughts you had about complaining. A chill ran down your spine as you registered his seriousness, quickly climbing back to your previous position to avoid any further disappointment from him.
Having one less layer between the two of you was doing just enough to send you hurtling straight back towards the edge. Yeosang's arms finally came up to wrap around you as your rhythm began to falter. He could tell you were close and he couldn't stop himself from helping you reach the finish line.
White hot pleasure exploded through every nerve in your body, your eyes shot open immediately finding Yeosang's darkened gaze. A string of curses mixed with his name slipped out of your mouth as you worked through your orgasm. Your body fell forward, your head resting against his chest as you trembled against him. Your vision slowly came back into focus, thoughts piecing back together as the lust filled haze lifted from your mind. His hands ran smooth circles up and down your back, grounding you back in reality.
"Maybe you are being good," he smiled as he brought one hand up to push some of your hair behind your ear. "And do you know what good girls get?"
"Hm?" you hummed, still not quite able to produce words.
"Rewards." His answer hung in the air, anticipation starting to wind itself around you. "Unless you're too tired. Maybe we can watch another movie?"
"No!" your body snapped back upright, ready to prove that you were ready for whatever he had planned. Yeosang chuckled at your reaction before pulling you up farther against him, your legs now straddling either side of him. Your oversensitive core brushed against his hardened length, sending shivers down both of your spines.
"Always so hungry," he mumbled as he brought his lips to your neck. You were back to a moaning mess as he continued to mark your skin - kisses turning into bites that left you craving more and more. Your hips started grinding against him again, needy and just as desperate as when this had all started.
His fingers made their way around you, deftly working to unhook your bra before sliding it away from you and onto the floor. Before you could even feel the cold air against your now exposed skin, his hands were kneading against the soft skin - fingers pulling at your hardened nipples. You pushed your mouth back against his, afraid of what sounds might come out of you if left unoccupied.
Your fingers tangled in Yeosang's freshly bleached hair, lightly tugging as the kiss deepened. He knew he had you right where he wanted you, utterly lost in the promising pleasure he could deliver. It was evident in the way you continued to grind against him as though you hadn't just came against his thigh. Your insatiable hunger for him would never get old.
"Ready for your reward?" Yeosang pulled away from you just enough to speak, your heavy breaths still mingling together in the space between you. All you could do was nod furiously, reattaching your lips to him to show your excitement and need.
You felt him readjust below you before pushing the lace covering your drenched core to the side. Something warm pressed against your entrance, collecting your juices before pushing ever so slowly into you. The stretch of your walls around him had you near tears, doing your best to adjust to his size.
"Too much?" he asked, concerned when he noticed you had stopped breathing.
"Y-yes, but d-don't stop," you stuttered, pushing down so that you sank onto him further. The pain was a delicious juxtaposition to the pleasure you were filled with. Usually he worked you up to taking him, starting with his fingers until he deemed you prepped enough. But today, oh today he wanted to see what you could handle.
"Mmm, always so tight. Made just for me, right?" he asked, pulling you the rest of the way down until your hips met his. Full. You were so full. You swore you could feel him in your stomach. And as if he could read your mind you felt him press against your lower abdomen, exactly where he was creating a bulge against your skin.
"Look at that," he pressed harder - eliciting a moan from somewhere deep inside you. "Haven't even started fucking you and you're already cock drunk. Show me how badly you want me."
That's all it took for your body to start moving, only letting him pull halfway out before you pushed yourself back against him. It was by no means graceful, your movements were sloppy and desperate - the only thing on your mind being how perfectly Yeosang fit inside of you. Which is why after a minute of watching you fuck yourself against him, he decided to grant you a bit of mercy and take over.
His hands reached around you, gripping under your ass to help lift you further off of him before dropping you back down. With every stroke of him against your walls came a pitiful moan. You were starting to lose any ability to form sentences, let alone words. The only thing that seemed to come out of your lips that had any meaning was, "more."
And more he gave - his hips now rising to slam against you as you dropped back down. Another orgasm was building, and quickly. You could feel yourself clenching down against him, the only warning you were able to give him in your current state.
"That's it angel, come for me. I want to feel you," he said, his thrusts becoming harsher as you gripped the couch behind him for dear life. He didn't let up as you tensed around him, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed against you as he pulled every last second of your release from you.
"So pretty, so good for me," his praises slipped out as he stilled his movements. You were ruined and he knew it. Your legs were like jello as you collapsed on top of him, his length still deep within you - twitching with anticipation. He knew you just needed a moment - that soon you would be looking up at him with those eyes that were begging for more. So he was content with just holding you for a minute, doing his best to not move too much in you.
Your breaths began to even out, finally noticing Yeosang's soft touches along your spine. He was always so patient, ensuring that you were okay before chasing his own pleasure. It was such a heartwarming gesture that it was almost laughable when you considered what he was just doing to you.
"I didn't lose you did I?" he asked.
"Mm, no," you mumbled, using all of your strength to lift your head and meet his gaze. "I don't think I can move though," you laughed.
"Well good thing you don't have to," he grinned, quickly flipping the two of you so that your back was now pressed into the soft fabric of your couch. He pulled away just enough to slide your now drenched panties down your legs. Yeosang pushed your legs up, resting them against his shoulders as he slowly dragged his length out of you.
"Sangie," you moaned as he drove back into you, the new angle hitting your favorite spot. Every thrust was measured, his hips pushing forward quickly before drawing out of you excruciatingly slowly. It was enough to have your mind blanking out almost immediately.
"Such a good pussy," he muttered, watching where your bodies were connecting - loving the sight of him disappearing within your warmth. "You're doing so good for me."
It should have been impossible how quickly he had you close to another orgasm, but there was no denying the warmth that was clawing its way from within you. He could feel you tensing again, shock and pride washing over his features as you writhed beneath him - lost in the intensity of his movements. He was holding on to his own sanity for dear life, praying that he could hold off on his own release until he was sure you would be unable to take any more of him.
"I'm- mm 's too much," your words were slurring, but he knew you weren't asking him to stop. In fact that was your code word for more. Which he gave you in an instant. His pace quickened, fingers finding your swollen clit and rubbing quick circles. He watched as your eyes rolled back, walls squeezing against him again and again. He would never get sick of watching how perfectly you fell apart for him. It was like a drug - the sight alone driving him harder and deeper into you.
"Just a little more angel. Stay with me." He leaned down, capturing your lips with his before leaving sloppy kisses down your neck and chest. Yeosang released your legs from his shoulders, allowing you to wrap them around his waist. You fought against the haze that was clouding your brain. It was so hard to stay focused, exhaustion starting to creep its way through your bones.
Just as your body began to surrender to the fatigue, an overwhelming sting of pleasure reignited your nerves. It was his damn hands again, pressing against your lower abdomen. The external pressure from where his tip pressed against your walls was intoxicating. Tears sprang up instantaneously.
It was too much.
Not enough.
Exactly what you needed.
"Taking me so well," he grunted, smirking as the sounds of your arousal filled the room. You were a mess - tears trailing down your cheeks, back arching, hands gripping at the couch beneath you. "Does my angel want me to fill her up?"
"Yes, yes please. I need it," your high pitched moans had him barreling closer and closer to his own release.
"Need what?" he teased. He loved making you say the dirtiest things, often saving voice notes of you begging him for various sexual favors for when he was unable to access you.
"Need your cum, please Yeo." And who was he to deny his love of anything she asked for? His pace gained a new intensity, both of your releases in sight. It only took a few more thrusts before he was spilling deep within you, rocking his hips until the sensation was too much. You vaguely felt him as he slipped out of you, the warm mixture of your releases sliding down your thighs.
You weren't sure how long it had been - or when you had been moved, but the next thing you recall is being curled up against Yeosang. Your muscles burned as you twisted enough to look up at your boyfriend.
"Hi," he smiled as his thumb rubbed circles against your arm. "You okay? I lost you there for a few minutes."
"Mm." It was all you could manage. Your throat was scratchy, brain still lagging behind as if you had just woken up from a nap.
"Should we clean up then get back to our movies? I think Elf is up next," he asked as if he hadn't just been literally fucking you stupid.
"Sounds perfect," you said, nuzzling into him more. "Maybe more Pad Thai too?"
Pairing: Yunho x Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Summary: It's your first Christmas together with Yunho and of course he wants to go on a cheesy date to pick out a Christmas tree and decorate it with you.
Holiday Masterlist
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
It was a picture perfect day. Snow had begun to fall just as you and your boyfriend, Yunho, entered your local Christmas Tree farm. The flakes were sticking ever so slightly to the rows upon rows of trees that now surrounded you both, making it look like a scene straight off of a Christmas card. The domesticity of it all had your cheeks tinted pink since he had picked you up from your apartment.
The two of you had only been dating for a couple of months now, so everything you did was still new and exciting. Butterflies still erupted deep in your stomach every time he looked at you.
"This one looks nice," Yunho says, pointing to another one of the lush pines that were surrounding you.
"Hm," you took a step back, imagining how your decorations would adorn the branches before shaking your head. "It's a little too short. You underestimate how many glitter glue encrusted ornaments my mom kept from when I was a kid. This tree needs to have some major real estate."
"Ah yes, I didn't account for your army of popsicle stick reindeer," Yunho laughed. You allowed him to tug you by your intertwined hands to the next row, the two of you inspecting the new potential candidates.
You were trying your best to keep your eyes on the trees, you really were. But he was so close. And your hand was in his. And you still couldn't believe he was your boyfriend.
It had happened so quickly. His eyes had been glued to you the entire night at your friend's party. Unbeknownst to you, he had been working up the courage to come introduce himself for an embarrassing amount of time - trying to decide if you would laugh or cringe at a cheesy pickup line. By the end of the night he had you giggling over his dumb jokes, numbers exchanged, and the promise of a coffee date in the coming days. You would have rolled your eyes over how cliché it was if you weren't so madly in love with the giant dork - not that you've told him that.
"You're staring," Yunho's voice was soft, gently breaking you out of your heart eyed trance. It wasn't the first time he had caught you, which made it embarrassing. The fact that it wasn't even the first time today had your cheeks warm enough to immediately melt the snowflakes that continued to brush across your skin.
"Sorry," you mumbled, scrambling to focus on anything but him.
"Don't be," he smirked. He turned so that he was now facing you, his free hand coming up to cup your burning cheek. "You're cute when you're flustered." He ducked down to brush his lips softly against yours, grinning as your cheeks somehow reached a deeper shade of crimson.
"Yunho," you whined, pouting slightly at his teasing. But your scowl melted away as his lips came into contact with yours again. You brought your hands up to rest against his chest, allowing him to deepen the kiss ever so slightly. You still weren't used to how easily your lips molded to his, or how your heart always felt like it was going to beat out of your chest when his fingers delicately grazed against your skin.
As if both of you remembered that you were in public at the same time, you broke apart. "You're such a jerk," you muttered.
"Yeah, but I'm your jerk," he chuckled.
You couldn't stop your eyes from rolling as you lightly shoved against his chest.. "Yeah, yeah," you huffed before moving past him, determined to appear more invested in the prospective pines on this row. Yunho quickly recovered, using his long legs to catch up to you within three strides. His hand naturally slid into yours as the two of you leisurely surveyed more and more trees.
"Ooh!" your attention was drawn to a tree down the row a bit further, "what about that one?" You used your free hand to point as the other tugged Yunho behind you. It was impossible for his smile to get any wider as he watched you make your mental calculations of ornament density.
The way your brows scrunched together and fingers danced along a few of the branches had Yunho's heart fluttering. He hadn't admitted it to you, or really even himself fully, but nobody had ever made him feel like this. He could feel himself falling - and quickly.
"I think you're perfect." The sentence slipped out of his mouth as he continued to focus on how adorable you looked as you concentrated. There was a beat of silence before Yunho's cheeks turned red, "It! I meant.... it's perfect."
“Smooth,” you laughed, enjoying being on the other side of the teasing for once. "But I think I agree." You took a step back, once again visualizing how your living room would look with this tree in it, lights strung up and ornaments on every branch. It really was perfect.
"Should I go find somebody to chop it down for us?" Yunho closed the distance between the two of you, resting his chin on top of your head and wrapping his arms around you. He often found himself surrounding you like this, enjoying how perfectly you fit under his tall frame. And you never complained, in fact something about it made you feel safe - even when you didn't need comforting.
"Yes please," you tilted your head back, looking up at him with a soft smile. This was another thing Yunho was getting used to - the cuteness aggression. Even when you were just minding your own business, completing mundane daily tasks like brushing your teeth or reading a book had him seconds away from squishing your face out of pure inability to control himself.
"Alright, don't let it out of your sight. I'll be right back." With a surprising exhibition of self control, Yunho simply left a soft kiss on your forehead before wandering back to where you had entered the farm to search for an employee. You immediately missed his presence, hoping that he would be quick to return.
After two minutes of waiting you slid your phone out of your pocket just in case he had gotten lost on his way back. You clicked the side button, heart skipping a beat when it lit up with one of the first pictures the two of you had taken together as a couple. You wondered if it would always feel like this - the spiked heart rates and sweaty palms as soon as you were reminded of who your boyfriend was. It was like you were back in grade school experiencing your first crush all over again.
"There she is!" Yunho's voice had your head turning immediately, giggles slipping past your lips as you saw his head peaking between a couple of trees a few yards away from you. "It didn't run away from us right?"
"Do you really have such little faith in me?" You brought your hand over your chest in feigned offense.
"Okay, are you not the same person that lost her glasses on top of her head? Twice?"
"You're lucky you're cute Jeong Yunho," you shot back, shaking your head at his antics. The use of his full name had him in sad puppy mode instantaneously. An overdramatic frown and watery eyes had you sighing and opening your arms for him to come racing into. "Such a child," you mumbled into where your face was now buried in his coat.
The sound of somebody clearing their throat broke the two of you apart, a fresh coating of pink tinting your cheeks as you realized the overworked, and most likely underpaid, employee was waiting for you to show him the tree you wanted.
"This is the one!" Yunho said, gesturing to your chosen spruce. The two of you watched as the trunk was sawed away, Yunho stepping in to help the worker carry it to the front. He, of course, insisted on paying for the tree even though it would be residing in your apartment. That was a battle you don't think you were ever going to win, the man just loved spoiling you too much - dinners, flowers, your favorite snacks from the convenience store he always stopped at on the way to your place.
"Ready to decorate?" he asked as he opened the passenger door of his car for you.
"If you mean am I ready to use your height for perfect ornament distribution, then yes! I'm super ready," you laughed, reaching around to buckle yourself in. His fingers brushed across your cheek once more before leaving a small peck on your lips.
It had taken the two of you what was probably far too long to get the tree upright in your living room. A thin layer of sweat now clung to your body as you pulled your tub of ornaments out of the hallway closet.
"Oh you weren't kidding," Yunho gasped as you pried the lid off, uncovering years of Christmas memories. The bin was packed to the brim with ornaments of varying quality. At least a quarter of it was the Barbie ornaments your mom had bought you annually growing up. Another handful of boxes held ornaments that had tracked your interests over the years - characters from your favorite movies, souvenirs from family vacations, trinkets marked with the years of major life events.
And then there were the handmade monstrosities. Every year you debated throwing most of them out, embarrassed by the lopsided snowmen and cross-eyed Santa's. But every time you held one over the trashcan you could hear your mom crying over losing the precious memories. So here they sat, staring up at you and Yunho, ready to claim their rightful place on your tree.
"Alright, lights first," you said as you grabbed the neatly wound up strings of lights. You handed the spool to Yunho, helping him unwind a few rounds so that you could plug the end into the wall. "You walk in front and I will follow and place them," you explained.
"Aye, aye," Yunho saluted in mock seriousness. You shoved his arm lightly before concentrating on the task at hand. As the lights reached higher and higher, the two of you began singing along to the holiday playlist that had been turned on when you arrived home. Conversation flowed easily between you, mostly reminiscing on previous Christmas's spent with your families.
When the lights got above your tippy toed reach, Yunho took over which allowed you to enjoy how the soft glow from the lights twinkled in his eyes. There it was again. That warm fuzzy feeling you got after looking at him for too long edged it's way from where it bloomed in your chest, spreading across every inch of you. He was handsome - gorgeous even - had a huge heart, and never failed to make you smile. And he was yours.
You weren't sure which deity to thank for crossing his path with yours, but you owed them your life it seemed. Never in a million years did you think you would find somebody that fell so naturally into the rhythm of your life. It felt like you had known him for years when in reality it had only been a couple of months.
"You're doing it again," he whispered as he tucked the end of the lights into their respective branches. "What is going on in that head of yours?" His head tilted, eyes meeting yours which triggered another wave of whatever this feeling was.
No. You knew what the feeling was - you were just too afraid to admit it. The fear of rejection was a poisonous thread that wound itself through every fiber of your being. Was it too soon to tell him? You weren't sure if you would ever pick yourself up off the floor if your admission ruined things.
Nevertheless, you sucked a deep breath in and let the words you had been holding back all day tumble out of your mouth.
"I love you."
Silence.
Oh god. Your eyes widened in panic. Breathing was suddenly an impossible task. Yunho's face was frozen, mouth slightly open as he attempted to collect his own thoughts.
Stupid. Stupid. Everything is ruined. You wanted to run away, hide from him and pray he forgot you had ever said a word.
"I love you too," his voice broke through your anxiety ridden thoughts. Your face must have had confusion written all over it still as he continued. "I love you so much." He stepped towards you, hands rising to gently cup your face. "I've wanted to say that for so long," he admitted.
"Me too," you replied, relief flooding your body. "I just didn't want to ruin anything."
"Ruin?" His eyebrows rose in shock, not expecting your confession. "Baby, you could never ruin what I feel for you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I've never felt so..." his words trailed off, searching for exactly what he wanted to say. "You're like home to me. No matter what is going on - recording, filming, concerts - I can always come back to you."
His words wrapped around you, calming your racing heart and nearly sending you into a puddle on the ground. Luckily his arms snaked around your waist, allowing you to lean against him before your lips collided. His lips were familiar, but there was something new behind them. It was like he was trying to show you exactly what he had just admitted. You did your best to match his intensity, desperate to reciprocate the overflowing love that was in your heart.
Suddenly his arms reached lower, gripping around your thighs so that he could lift your feet off the ground. It was a strange feeling, your head now being a few inches above him, but you smiled against his lips as you wound your arms around his neck. You reconnected your lips to his, attempting to devour one another as if it was your last moments on earth.
"Merry Christmas, Yunho," you whispered against his mouth, peppering his face with light pecks.
Summary: Christmas is here, and so is a blizzard. The town of Hollyleaf braces for the storm of the decade, and you brace your heart, not knowing if you can make it through the holiday unscathed. You haven't responded to Hongjoong's text, and you're beginning to wonder if it's already too late.
Warnings: NSFW. Explicit sexual content, dirty talk, D/s dynamics (Dom!Hongjoong), brat-taming, possessive language, jealousy, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex without protection, and explicit language. 18+ only. MDNI
This is part 2 -> part 1 here
taglist: @mingimangomu , @seungmins-strawberry
a/n: thank you for your patience! enjoy, xoxo -matz-rpiece
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
It gets colder with every hour that passes, but that doesn't stop the town of Hollyleaf from enjoying the Christmas market on the eve of the holiday. Shoppers, locals and tourists alike, browse the booths in the town square, trying to sneak in those last minute gifts. Joy is all around. It's in the faces of the children awed by the lights and colors, in the voices of the carolers who have yet to run out of songs to sing. The cheer of the season surrounds you, but you feel like an outsider. An onlooker. Like you aren't a part of it. The storm isn't here yet, but you feel a dark cloud looming over you. Chilling you to the bone.
You hold your hands out over the small, battery powered space heater that your mom borrowed from the neighbor. It does little to warm the inside of the booth, but it's better than nothing. You still don't have gloves, you kept forgetting to ask your sister to borrow a pair. You're tempted to light a few of the candles you're supposed to be selling, but your mom was very adamant about keeping the stock straight.
"Do you have anymore of the big cinnamon pine ones?" a young woman asks from the other side of the table.
You look at to where she's pointing. There's only one of the scent she's referring to. "Let me check," you say quickly. You flip through the pages of the stock log looking for that specific one. It's not under the 'baking' category, so you go to 'trees' next. "We should have two more of the 8oz ones, but it looks like we're sold out of the 16oz."
The woman frowns and says, "That's too bad, hmm." She looks at some of the other scents available. "What about the maple bourbon? In the 16oz?"
You flip through the book again, going to the baking section. "Um....yes, we should." Your eyes scan over the table, looking for the light brown candle. Not seeing it, you turn around to check the piles of boxes behind you. You silently curse your scatterbrained mother for her organization skills. But, under several other boxes, you find a lone maple bourbon candle amongst some waffle scented ones. "Anything else?"
The woman looks over the table again and hesitates before grabbing the small cinnamon pine one. "I'll take this too," she decides. She hands it over to you so you can package it for her and make note in the sale log.
"Okay," you say when you're done. "That'll be $32 total."
"Sales tax?" she asks.
"Included."
She hands over the exact amount in cash, and you give her the candles with a smile. "Enjoy the rest of the market," you say, putting as much cheer into your voice as you can manage. "Merry Christmas."
"You too," the woman smiles before heading to the next booth.
You settle back into the folding chair and put your fingers almost directly on the heater. It really is getting colder, but you aren't sure if that's because of the blizzard on the way, or if you're just so used to southern California's warmth. You shove your hands into your coat pocket instead, hoping to warm them that way. You touch your phone and out of pure habit, you take it out to check for messages.
Nothing new has come through. Not that you're anticipating anything, not really. You thumb lingers over the chat with the unsaved number. The two messages in there have been haunting your every waking thought for the last several days. You've read and reread the words so many times that you're pretty sure you have them memorized.
But you haven't responded.
You've come close. You've typed out several messages. Each one different from the last. Sometimes you say something kind, sometimes you don't. But everything you say ends up erased. You haven't been able to come up with the right thing to say to Hongjoong yet. And the more time that passes, the more you think you'll never say anything at all.
Part of you is okay with that. Content to leave things as they are. Not quite settled, not quite satisfactory. It's the easy way out. Not exactly something you can move on from, but you've never been very good at moving on from things anyway. It's a little painful, but you know that it'll fade into numbness, as these things tend to do. It'll be easier when you're back on the west coat, far from this cold. Far from him.
But another part of you...the broken remnants of your heart...that part of you is clawing at your chest, at your mind to do something. Say something. Text him. Call him. See him. To tell him you're sorry for all of it. Sorry for running away, for saying what you said. It would be easy to do too. Easy to admit you were wrong, and that California was not the answer you thought it was. That you miss him. You need him. Love him.
And he would forgive you. For all of it. For the two years of absolute silence between you. He would smile as the words pour out of your mouth. He would want to interrupt, and he would almost do it several times, but he would let you speak. Like he always has. And only when you've said all that can be said, when you've run out of words. He would say them back. I missed you too. I need you too. I love you too.
But the doubt sets in, creeps into your mind like the venom from a snake bite. It's been too long. Too long since you closed your front door on him two Christmases ago. Too long since he sent the text. You've run out of time. He's patient, but everyone has their limits. And you don't see any reason why he hasn't reached his. No amount of fondness can make a person wait forever.
You stare at the words. All 93 of them. That's how much they have consumed you. You counted them. Those 93 words that contain both so much and so little. An apology? Most definitely. A farewell? Possibly. An open hand, offering a second chance? Maybe you're reading into it a little too much. You'll never know if you don't respond. So why don't you respond?
"Thank you for watching the booth, honey."
You look up to see your mom approaching, a cart full of boxes dragging behind her. "So that's what took you so long," you say when you see the candle logo on the side. "I thought you were just getting lunch with Rose?" You put your phone back into your pocket, any response to Hongjoong forgotten for the moment.
"She needed to get something from her cousin's place in Mumsford," she says, handing a box to you over the table. "We had to pass the storage unit anyway. And I figured we'd be selling through them with the weather that's coming."
You grunt at the weight of the box but manage to set it down without breaking any glass. "You should just bring that around back," you say, wanting to save yourself from any strain.
She does as you suggest, and it's much easier work to unload the boxes of candles this way. You refill the table, and adjust the logbook to be accurate with the restock. You're only interrupted twice to sell to a pair of families. They leave with four and five candles, respectively.
"Okay, now shoo," your mom says once everything is in place.
"What?"
"I only needed you to cover the booth while I was gone," she says. "Go. Enjoy the market before it closes."
You were actually enjoying tending to the booth more than you expected, but you know better than to argue your mother. There's no doubt you inherited your stubbornness from her. Besides, it will be nice to stretch your legs. Moving around should help warm you up, and you're pretty sure you saw a fiber crafts booth near the center of the market. Maybe you can buy something for your hands.
"See you later," you say as you leave, venturing into the crowded square.
It's busy, shoulder to shoulder in some places where spaces between the booths get narrow. You aren't going anywhere specific, just following the flow of the market, taking in the sights, the sounds, the smells. A jazz band plays somewhere in the distance, putting out rich, holiday music. You pass by a stand selling hot chocolate, and the warm cocoa aroma is too tempting to pass up. A minute later, your hands wrap around a paper cup holding the rich beverage.
You take a careful first sip, not wanting to burn your mouth. To your delight, it's the perfect temperature. Hot, but not scalding. It warms you from the inside out. The dark chocolate flavor mingles perfectly with the creamy foam that floats on top left by the melting marshmallows. You couldn't ask for a better drink on such a cold day.
Your only mistake is closing your eyes as you savor it. You take a step forward, lost in a chocolatey euphoria, and run right into someone. The cup is crushed in the impact, spilling on both you and your unsuspecting victim. You don't know what upsets you the most: the loss of your drink, the new stains on your sleeves, or the embarrassment of ruining a stranger's day.
"I'm so sorry!" you quickly exclaim, scrambling to do something, anything to mend things. You look around for any booths that have napkins, anything you can use to clean up this mess. "I'm so sorry. Let me just get-"
"Y/N. It's okay."
You freeze. Your body reacts viscerally to hearing your name on his lips. Spilling your drink on a stranger is mildly unlucky. Spilling it on someone you know is annoying and embarrassing, but recoverable. But spilling it on Hongjoong? It's the cruelest of ironies. A wicked intervention of fate. If there is some greater being out there that watches over you, then surely they must be laughing.
You can't move. You don't know if you even want to. Maybe if you stay still, don't react, don't respond, then maybe it won't have actually happened. Maybe you imagined it, and you really did just spill your hot chocolate on a stranger. Maybe you only heard him call your name because he's currently living rent free in your head.
But you feel hands on yours, followed by a rough napkin patting them dry, then tending to your coat sleeves. And you know those hands. Know that touch. It's him. Without a doubt in the world.
"Hongjoong," you whisper. And only now are you able to look up at him.
He remains fixed on getting you dry for just a half second before his eyes flick to yours, his brows knit together in concern. The effects of eye contact are almost immediate. Words build in your throat, but there's too many of them fighting for dominance. You don't know what to say, so instead, you stand there and stare at him.
"It didn't burn you, did it?" he asks. You feel him flip your hand over as he looks for any signs of injury from the hot liquid. And it's only when you glance down to get a look for yourself, that you realize your hands are still in his.
You should pull away. That would be the smart thing to do. But you can't. You're still frozen. And you don't know if it's the lingering heat from the spilled drink, or if it's him, but for the first time since you've been home, your hands don't feel quite so cold.
"No burns," Hongjoong says when you still haven't answered. But he doesn't let you go. Not yet. "You didn't hit your head, did you?"
You blink a couple times before shaking your head. "I'm fine," you whisper, finally pulling your hands away and shoving them into your pockets. You dig your nails into your palms, hoping that maybe a little bit of pain will clear whatever this brain fog is. It helps a little. "Are you okay? Did any get on you?"
"Just a little splash," Hongjoong say, not sounding at all upset. "It'll wash out."
A moment of silence passes between you. And then another. You think you see his mouth move, but you don't remember hearing any words.
"Did you say something?"
"I asked if I could buy you another drink," Hongjoong says. "To replace the one I ruined?"
"You didn't ruin anything," you say. "It was all my fault."
"It was a joint effort."
The brief silence that follows makes you wonder if either of you are really talking about the hot chocolate at all.
"But yes," you quickly say, needing to move along. "You may buy me another one."
The surprised look on his face tells you plenty. He didn't expect you to take him up on the offer, but he's certainly delighted by it. Whether he's expecting you to give a response to the words he sent the other night or not, he gives no indication. For now, he is content to walk beside you back up to the hot chocolate booth.
"Which one do you want?" he asks when it's your turn in line.
"The regular one," you answer. "Extra marshmallows."
Hongjoong smiles. "No need to mess with perfection," he nods in agreement.
A moment later, the barista has poured fresh cups of hot cocoa for the both of you. "For you," she says handing over the first one. "And your girlfriend."
Hongjoong doesn't correct her, and neither do you. Not because you are his girlfriend, you certainly aren't, but it's just too awkward to explain it to strangers. At least that's what you tell yourself. For now.
The two of you step to the side, out of the way, and when Hongjoong goes to hand you the cup, he freezes. Only when you see the shape of the marshmallows do you understand why. They're in the shape of hearts. A dozen little white symbols of love float over the dark liquid, already starting to melt.
"I didn't mean for-"
"Just give it to me, Joong," you say, reaching for it. It's just a silly shape. No need to read into it. Not right now. You take a quick sip before it can cool anymore than it already has, sighing happily as it warms your mouth.
Hongjoong drinks his too, sighing the same way. He pulls his cup away and smiles at you when he catches you watching him. You can't help but laugh when you see melted marshmallow clinging to his top lip.
"What's funny?" he asks, the picture of innocence.
"You have some-" You giggle, the words fighting against your laughter and losing. "On your face-... Some of the marshmallows."
He quickly wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Stop laughing," he tells you. "You have some on your face too."
You shake your head. "I do not."
"Yes, you do." And to prove his point, he reaches over, and with his thumb, he wipes away the little bit of sugar at the corner of your lips.
All you can do is blink your eyes up at him at the intimate gesture. It feels so natural to have him take care of you like this. To buy you a replacement drink, to make sure you face is clean and presentable. You wish talking, communicating were as easy as this. Being with him was never hard. Life with Hongjoong...made sense. It was as easy as breathing, as blinking. It was just the rest of life's messes that made it difficult.
"I wanted to text you," you say softly, your voice no more than a whisper. And before he can say anything, ask why you haven't, you quickly add, "I just...couldn't figure out what to say. I'm sorry."
He shakes his head, the movement so slight that you almost miss it. "You don't have to apologize," he says. "I'm the one who needed to apologize."
There's more you need to say, but the words are difficult. You're terrified you'll say the wrong thing, and it'll send the both of you running again. He's right here in front of you. You need to say something. Before it's too late. The words are on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out.
And then your phone rings.
And rings.
And rings.
"Are you going to answer that?" Hongjoong asks when you haven't moved to get it from your pocket.
"It's just Paige," you say, knowing from the ringtone. Your hands remain firmly wrapped around the cup of cocoa as you bring it to your lips to savor once more. You're careful not to get anymore on your face, but you really wouldn't mind him touching you again if you do.
He raises his eyebrows. "Is there a reason you're ignoring your sister?"
You start to shake your head no, but that's not true. There is a reason to ignore her. And he's standing right in front of you.
The ringing stops after a little while, but before you can say anything else, it goes off again.
"You should probably answer it this time," Hongjoong says. He reaches for your cup. "Let me take this, so you can take that."
You want to protest, but your big sister instincts kick in, and you're suddenly worried that she might be in trouble. You let him take it, and you fish your phone out of your pocket, your cold fingers already missing the warmth of your drink. You swipe across the screen to accept the call.
"Hello?"
"Hey, you busy?" she asks.
"Uh..." You look up at Hongjoong who has conveniently looked away, trying to be subtle about eavesdropping. "Kinda."
You hear your sister sigh. "Like how busy?"
"What do you need?" you ask, avoiding her question and needing her to get to the point.
"It's kind of a little but really big favor?"
It's your turn to sigh. "What is it?"
"I need you to meet Mr. Kim and pick up the truck," she says. And before you can respond, she continues, "I know things are....shitty with Hongjoong, but I really really need you to do this for me. I'm super swamped here with donations and meal prepping. I will owe you a million favors in return."
You look up at Hongjoong who is still pretending like he doesn't hear every word your sister is saying over the phone. Are things still shitty with him? Maybe twenty minutes ago you would have agreed with her. But now? He bought you hot chocolate. He touched your hands and your face. He's laughed with you. Even though things haven't been officially resolved, it doesn't feel bad. In fact things almost feel...like what a normal relationship with someone should feel like.
"How will I get to the truck?" you ask. "It's still at the edge of town."
Your words cause Hongjoong to look at you. He mouths the word Truck? You hold up one finger, signalling you'll explain in a moment. He keeps his attention on you, slowly sipping his drink.
"Mr. Kim offered to swing by and pick me up, but like I said, I am super duper busy. And I know you're with Mom, which is super close by. You are still with Mom, right?"
"I, uh, went for a walk," you say. Which is true, but not the entire truth.
"So, you're not busy?" She sounds hopeful.
"I'm with-" You cut yourself off before you can completely give yourself away.
"With who?"
You want to curse. You walked yourself right into this. And you know not to even bother with lying. She'll see right through it.
"Yeah, I, uh...rant into..." You cringe as you say his name out loud, knowing he'll hear you. "Hongjoong."
And as expected, he looks back at you when you say his name. He angles his head to the side, his curiosity showing. And you'll be damned if it doesn't look cute on him.
The silence from your sister is deafening. You know she's coming up with a million responses. She's like you in that regard. The only difference is she tends to be more blunt with how she says things. "Really." Her voice is complete deadpan. No judgement, no disbelief. Just...blunt.
"It's..." Your words trail off, and you know you're still cringing. You know she can hear it in your voice, and you know Hongjoong can see it all over your face. It's embarrassing. It's complicated. "I really wanted to spend some more time at the market." You change the subject, hoping she won't ask about him more.
"You mean you want to spend more time at the market with him," she says.
She isn't wrong. You hate that she isn't wrong. "How urgent is getting the truck?"
"Pretty urgent," she says. "The storm, remember? I don't want it buried under feet of snow."
You curse out lout this time. "Shit, you're right." You look back at Hongjoong. His eyes are on you as he patiently waits out your phone call. You had hoped you could actually talk things out while a the market together. And you suppose things can still be talked out. Maybe you can even convince him to get the truck with you. You know he would say yes. "Okay," you say. "Fine. I'll get the truck. But you owe me."
"I owe you everything, Y/N," she says. "The keys are in the glove box, by the way."
"See you later," you say. "We'll come pick you up once we get the truck."
She blows a kiss into the phone before hanging up. You let your arm fall and you huff out a sigh, reaching for your hot chocolate again. Hongjoong's fingers brush yours as he hands it over.
"So what's going on?" he asks. "Something about the truck?"
You nod, taking a sip of your drink before speaking. "She's super busy with the donation drive, but the truck needs to get taken care of before the storm comes through tonight. She said your dad can help, but we gotta do it soon." And, as if the weather was listening, a heavy gust of wind blows through the market, bringing with it an arctic chill and the start of flurries.
"Okay," Hongjoong says. "I, um, do you want me to come with you?" There's hope in his voice, bordering on desperation. He wants you to say yes.
Nodding is easy. "Yes, if you'd like to," you say. And you add, for good measure, "I want you to."
The way he smiles is enough to warm you from the inside out, almost making you forget about how near unbearably cold it's becoming outside. He quickly throws back the last of his drink and gets out his phone. "Let me call my dad, see if he can pick us up nearby."
You finish the dregs of your drink too, wishing you had more of it. You offer to take his empty cup while he makes the call, and when you come back from finding a trash can, he hold his hand out to you. There is no hesitation in your movements. Your hand meets his, your fingers interlocking. A perfect fit.
You press in close to his side, craving whatever warmth you can get from him. You can only hear his half of the call.
"-Main Street is closed," he says to his father. "Yeah, we can head up that way. The corner of Bronson? Yeah....shouldn't take long.... Okay. Love you too."
He squeezes your hand once he hangs up the phone. You look up at him expectantly.
"Dad is gonna meet us by the library," he says. "It's not far."
You nudge him with your shoulder, letting yourself roll your eyes at him. "I know how close it is, Joong," you say. "I grew up here to."
It's his turn to roll his eyes as he pulls you along in the proper direction. The market is still busy, despite the worsening weather. People are still trying to get their final sales in, find that last, perfect gift. You feel a wave of disappointment in yourself for not getting him anything. An unfortunate oversight on your part. You'll have to think of some way to make it up to him later.
It's a short walk, but the cold is biting, cutting right through your jacket, and you can't help but shiver. You cling to Hongjoong, wondering why he isn't has fazed as you are by the chill. His hand is warm around yours, and only now do you realize he also isn't wearing gloves. You call him out on it.
"You were giving me such a hard time about my gloves, and yet," you say, trying not to chatter your teeth. "Your hands are just as exposed as mine."
You feel him tense just a little bit before relaxing, letting out a soft laugh. "I may have forgotten mine too," he admits. "But you're on the one who's always had the freezing fingers."
"If we have time after getting the truck," you say. "Remind me to get you a pair from a booth I saw."
You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, "You pick out some for me, and I'll pick out some for you."
Your own lips form an easy smile. "Deal."
You make it to the corner of Main Street and Bronson Avenue, right in front of the library. There are very few people around, most of them are finishing up closing their businesses for the storm or trying to get home. It's quiet here, away from the market. The only sounds are the crunching of footsteps over ice, the rare passing of a car, and the soft sighs of the snow falling. Peaceful. The calm before the storm.
The two of you enjoy the silence for a long while. There's so much between you that needs to be said, but you're content to let it hang there for a little while longer. You lean your head against his shoulder. You missed this. The gentle comfort that just being beside him provides. You should have called him, texted him. And not just after what he said this week but two years ago...you should have talked to him. Not done...whatever the hell that was. You know you should apologize too.
"Hongjoong." "Y/N."
You speak at the same time, both just louder than a whisper. The laughs that follow are quiet too. You keep your head on his shoulder, but you look up at him. He's already looking at you. Despite the words you both want to say, you both take in the other.
Hongjoong has always been attractive. Cute, handsome. You always thought so, even as kids growing up on the same street. A childhood crush that only grew as the both of you did. Middle school was unbearable. Early high school even more so. He was always the town looker. Him and his brother. You weren't in the same social circles back then, but you remember how you filled the corners of notebooks with his name written in sparkly ink. But it wasn't until the summer after sophomore year that he finally noticed you.
Your mother didn't want you sitting around all summer doing nothing productive, so she told you to find a job, or she would find one for you. You ended up working afternoons at the local radio station, sorting CDs and records. The place hadn't gone digital yet at that point. And Hongjoong was there too, somehow having gotten out of working at his dad's shop. It started with recommending music to each other. Then listening to music together on break. Which turned into listening to music together after work.
After that, the two of you became inseparable. Where Hongjoong went, you followed. Wherever you were, he was your shadow. You can't count the number of times you got reprimanded for sneaking off to go make out or mess around. He was your first love, and even now, you can't imagine anyone else taking his place.
His gaze, somehow, someway, softens even more as he looks at you. He closes his eyes and rests his chin on the top of your head.
"Merry Christmas," you hear him whisper. "I miss you."
It's the easiest thing in the world to say the words back to him. "Merry Christmas," you echo. "I miss you too."
He pulls away, but still stays close. You feel him turn, and suddenly his other hand is under your chin, angling you to look up at him. You think you see tears in his eyes, but you know they aren't tears of sadness. Not completely anyway. They're tears of hope, joy. And this time, it's your turn to wipe them away.
He flinches a little when the tips of your fingers touch him. "You hands are fucking cold, Y/N."
"Sorry!" you say quickly, pulling your hand away. But he catches it with the hand that was under your chin, wrapping his fingers around your fingers, trying to warm them up as best he can. "Thanks," you say, feeling your cheeks heat with a blush.
The two of you stand there, both hands holding each other. You move in, needing to be closer still. Your head is tilted back so you can keep looking at him. And almost in sync, you both lean in. You feel his breath on your lips, and you close your eyes.
The honking of a truck horn comes before the kiss does. You both jump in surprise, your forehead and his meet violently. Pain explodes behind your eyes, and you're both hissing out curses. Your brief moment of intimacy is forgotten as you rub the painful spot between your eyebrows.
"That's my dad," Hongjoong says between clenched teeth. "We should go." He doesn't wait for a response, or for you to accept his hand. He takes yours, half pulling you towards his father's tow truck. You almost slip on the slick concrete by the curb, but he has a good hold on you, keeping you upright.
Hongjoong opens the passenger door for you and helps you up the big step into the cabin. There's only the bench in the front seat, so you end up sitting between him and his father. You sit as close to Hongjoong as possible, squished against him, both out of necessity and because you simply want to. And you can tell he doesn't mind. He's never been shy about intimacy, even around family, and puts his hand on your thigh, giving it a firm squeeze. The message it gives is loud and clear: keep close, you're mine again.
"Good afternoon, Y/N," his father says, starting to drive the truck.
"Thank you for doing this on such short notice, Mr. Kim," you say to him.
"Better to get it done before it's buried under six feet of snow," he says, leaving it at that. He's never been a man of many words.
You rest your head on Hongjoong's shoulder, relaxing for the short drive. The truck goes over bumps in the road, avoiding piles of snow here and there. The weather is gradually getting worse, not storming just yet, but snow is falling faster, heavier. You know that before long the streets will be impassable.
Just as described, you sister's red pickup truck sits in a ditch, just past the city limits sign. You can see the shredded back tire from here. You're glad your sister didn't end up crashing into the sign or a tree or another car. It should be easy work to get the truck onto the road and the tire replaced.
"You two can stay in here," Mr. Kim grunts. "Keep warm."
He positions the tow truck before hopping out to hook up the pickup. Once alone, Hongjoong gives your thigh another squeeze, making you look at him. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, and possibly your closeness as well. You can't help but smile at him being this close.
"Hi," you whisper, something of a giggle in your voice.
He smiles back at you, and you want to kiss him so bad, but before you can lean in and get what you want, he pulls back. His hand goes to your cheek and he tilts your head back, away from him.
"What are you doing?" you ask him, mildly annoyed, but you don't pull away.
"Your forehead," he says softly, pursing his lips. "You might have a bruise forming."
You reach up and touch where your head had smacked against his, and suck in a sharp breath at the pain that blossoms. "I'll be fine," you insist. You reach for him too, wanting to see if he's hurt. "Are you in pain?"
"I'm fine," he brushes off. But you touch his forehead and he jerks away slightly. "Ow."
You poke him in the side. "You're a rotten liar." And then you remember about his fall on the ice the other day. "How's your butt?"
That gets him to smirk. "You tell me. You're the one always looking at it."
You jab your finger into his side that time. "Pig," you scoff. "I meant after falling? Are you okay?"
"No permanent damage, nothing broken," he assures you. "Just...can't sit on anything too hard."
"Maybe I'll take a look at it later," you say coolly. "Just to make sure."
It's his turn to blush beet red at the insinuation of checking out his ass. The two of you lean in again, close enough that the tip of his nose brushes yours. But once again, your kiss goes interrupted.
Hongjoong's father knocks on the door from the outside. Hongjoong whispers a curse before calling out. "Yeah, Dad?"
"Get out here, I need your help."
Hongjoong sighs with his whole body, and gives you one final look, his eyes burning with the promise of making sure you get that kiss. "I'm not done with you, darling. Be right back."
And suddenly you're alone in the tow truck. You actually have to take off your scarf to get some relief from the heat your body is putting off. Even with Hongjoong gone, you're still hot and bothered. There's so much that needs to be said before you fully give yourself over to him, but once the words are out of the way... Oh, you plan to have fun with him. There's two year's worth of tension to let out.
Just when you've gotten yourself a little calmed down, the passenger door opens. Freezing air assaults you in an instant, and you scramble to get your scarf back on. You look down at Hongjoong holding his hand out for you.
"Are we going somewhere?" you ask, taking his hand. He helps you down and out of the truck. He helps adjust your scarf before answering.
"Dad has to help some tourist who crashed into a tree by the railroad tracks," he says, annoyance seeping into his voice. He's extra grumpy about this new development for some reason.
"Oh," you say, not quite sure understanding why that's so bad. "Is the truck fixed? We can go, right?"
Hongjoong waves his father off, who gets in the tow truck to leave. He leads you to the bed of your sister's truck. The shredded tire is off, and the spare sits beside it, waiting to be put on. You freeze, and not because of the weather.
"Are you going to fix it?" you ask, trying to mask any emotion in your voice. In all the years you've known him, you've never once seen him work on a vehicle.
He gives you a look, a warning. "I know what I'm doing, Y/N," he says. But he doesn't sound convinced. Not entirely.
You cross your arms, you aren't convinced either, but you stay silent and watch him get to work. You've seen tires get changed before, watching your dad do this exact thing a handful of times to this exact truck. It used to be his, after all. But you've never watched someone do it while a blizzard blows in. Snow is coming down fast, starting to pile up all around. it clings to the truck, to you and your clothes. And it's cold. So fucking cold.
You hear Hongjoong curse loudly when he drops a bolt into the snow. It's almost painful watching his fish it out with his bare hands. You wish he had gloves, you wish you had your own gloves you could give him. You know better than to comment or offer help. You won't be of much assistance right now, and you don't want to distract him. So you don't. You keep watching, holding your jacket tighter around yourself. You could easily get into the cabin of the truck and start it for some warmth. But if Hongjoong has to deal with the cold, then so will you.
It takes a long time. Too long. You almost want to tell him to stop, tell him to get inside the truck where it'll be warm. You can call someone to come pick you up before the weather gets worse. There has to be someone, anyone who can come get you. The police or fire department, doesn't matter. It's getting dangerous out here, and you're worried for his safety and your own.
"Joong," you say, your voice barely louder than the wind. "Hongjoong!" You have shout so he can hear you.
He looks up at you, frustration burning in his eyes. "What?" You know his tone isn't directed at you, but you don't like hearing it.
"We need to get somewhere else," you say. You reach for your phone. "I can call-"
"I'm almost done," he says, his tone much less hostile, more assuring than anything. "Just need this last bolt in place, I swear."
You just nod, having no choice but to trust him. You'll give him three more minutes before you call for help. You stand beside him, hoping to block the wind and snow to make it easier for him to work. He notices because he pauses for a split a second to touch the back of your leg before resuming.
"Hongjoong," you say when those three minutes are up.
"I'm done," he says, sighing out a deep breath. He looks up at you from the ground, defeat heavy in his eyes. "It's not perfect, but it should get us home."
"We have to pick up my sister from the shop," you say. You hope she isn't panicking. In fact, you should probably call her. You get your phone out as you make your way to the front of the truck. But when you unlock your phone, you immediately notice that there's no signal. The snow must have already knocked the cell phone towers out. Not a good sign. "We need to go."
Hongjoong is on his feet a moment later. You don't comment on how strained his walking looks. Maybe his falling injury is more serious than he's on. Or maybe it's just the cold, which is highly possible. Your own muscles don't want to work much either. But once you get the heat going in the truck, both of you should warm right up.
The doors are unlocked, and the keys are right where your sister said they would be. You fish them out of the glove box, but before you can get them into the ignition, Hongjoong has both of his hands on your face. His fingers are freezing, they feel like actual popsicles on your cheeks. You don't get a chance to complain and pull away because his lips crash against yours.
It's a kiss and an attack all at once. His mouth is demanding, devouring. And you turn into a puddle against him, melting into the seat of the truck. The earlier almost kisses were sweet and tentative, but this one is as powerful as the blizzard that rages around you. Your mouth fits perfectly against his, your lips move in perfect synchronicity. The movements a familiar dance of tongue and teeth. You let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of his breath mixing with yours. You missed this. Fuck, you missed this. You missed him.
"Hongjoong." You can't help but moan his name into his mouth.
"Y/N." He says in the same way. He says it not like a word or a name. But like a prayer. Like a promise.
It kills you, breaks your heart, but you pull away. You have to. But you don't go far, just enough so you can speak clearly. You stay close enough to rest your forehead on his, careful not to hurt either of you. "We need to go," you whisper. "Now."
"I know," he says, his voice matching yours. "I just...had to do that."
You press you lips to his again. This time the kiss is much more controlled, but no less impactful. You give him everything you can for right now, making sure he understands that there's more to come. "Let's get back," you says. You pull back fully this time so you can look at him. His lips are swollen from the kiss and the cold, his pupils blown with emotion. "Joong...will you stay with me? Through the storm?"
He's nodding. Nodding so quickly like he's afraid you won't see him answering. "Yes," he says, his voice breathless. "Yes, I will. It's all I want."
You give him a kiss on the cheek that time before turning to the steering wheel. You start the truck, not even putting the thought into the universe about what you would do if it stalls out. Luckily, it doesn't. The engine roars to life, as reliable as always. You put the heat on full blast, knowing it won't take long for the ancient engine to warm up.
And it's only then, when you finally look out through the windshield, that you realize what kind of trouble you're in.
It's a white out. The kind of snowstorm they warn you about but never actually happens. Except now it's happening. And you're caught in the middle of it.
"Y/N," Hongjoong says, but you don't hear him. He has to reach across and put his hand on yours. "Y/N, look at me."
You tear your eyes away from the road that looms ahead of you and look at him. Seeing him, seeing the way he's looking at you, immediately brings you calm. You feel your body relax, despite all that is facing you, you are okay because he is here. He is with you.
"Do you need me to drive?" he asks. He's serious, there's no teasing, no joking of who is a better driver. He's asking because he cares, because he loves you.
You shake your head. "I can drive," you say. "We have to go slow."
"Slow and steady," he says. He leans over and kisses you cheek, tucking your hair back as he does. "I'm right here."
You nod and put the truck into drive, and you begin the task of getting the both of you back safely into town. It's slow going. You can barely see five feet ahead of you, but you know Hollyleaf like the back of your hand. You know these roads, their twists and turns. You spent years of your life driving them. With your father, mother, sister. With Hongjoong.
You feel the winds fighting against the truck, pushing at you from all sides. The snow is piling up everywhere. On the sides of the road, in the middle of it. But you keep going. Because that's all you can do.
"Tell me about California," Hongjoong says after some time. "What's it like?"
"Warm," you say, because that's the first thing you can think of. "Sunny."
"So nothing like this." Out of the corner of your eye you see him gesture to the nonsense that is outside.
You allow yourself to laugh. "Couldn't be more different," you say. "I think you would like it out there."
"Yeah? Why's that?"
"It's laid back," you say. You're grateful for what he's doing right now. The light distraction from the situation you're in is helping more than you expected. "Very...go with the flow. And don't get me started on the music scene. You'd be in heaven in LA."
"And you're out there too," he says. "It really would be heaven."
"Joong," you say, no more than a whisper. "I...-"
"Don't," he interrupts. "Don't make any decisions. Not right now."
You grip the steering wheel tighter. Somehow he knew what you were thinking, what you were about to offer. So instead, you ask, "Will you visit me? In LA?"
"If you'll have me."
"Of course, I'll have you."
"Then I'll be there."
Somehow, miraculously, impossibly, you make it to the town square. The falling snow blocks out everything. There's no sign of the booths or the Christmas trees that line the thoroughfare. You park the truck as close to the building your sister rented out as possible. You can't tell from here if the lights are still on, but they must be. She must still be in there.
You intend to leave the engine running while you go get her, but Hongjoong reaches over and takes the keys. You look at him quizzically.
"There's no way we'll make it to either of our houses," he says. "We should get inside. Wait out the storm here."
"Here?" He can't be serious.
"Your sister was donating food and blankets, emergency supplies," he says. "We'll be okay. At least for the night."
He's right. Of course he's right. "Okay," you say. "You ready?"
He nods, reaching for your hand to give it a quick squeeze. "Just run for the door. I'll see you inside."
You open the truck door, and the wind immediately slams it shut on you. Cursing, you force it back open. The air, so cold it feels like needles stabbing into your skin, hits you hard. The snow blinds you for a moment, disorienting you, but you recover enough to take a step towards the door that leads inside, to warmth, to Hongjoong.
You manage to make it to the door without slipping on any of the treacherous ice that has formed at your feet. You have to fight the wind again to get the door open, but you do. A wall of warm air and darkness is there to greet you. You slip inside, the door slamming shut behind you. The wind of the storm whistles on the other side of the wall, but you're safe. Warm and safe.
Hongjoong is in front of you a moment later after having found a light switch. His hands on you, making sure you're unharmed. "Y/N, are you okay?"
You sigh and let yourself half lean against his chest. "Mmmfine, Joongie," you say. The adrenaline of the drive and the short walk inside is subsiding, and you're exhausted. You want to sit down, lay down, anything. But something catches your attention, or rather, the lack of something. The lack of anything. "No one is here."
It's just the two of you in here. The building, the place that was once a dance studio turned Subway, is void of life. Dozens of boxes are piled high on folding tables, an old futon is shoved against a wall covered in old blankets and clothes. The old sandwich arranging station is clean, but you can smell the remnants of whatever meals your sister put together for the donation drive. But Paige is nowhere to be seen.
"She must've gotten a ride home," you mumble. You want to be annoyed, but you can't be. It's for the best. She's safe, you have to believe that. And besides, had you and Hongjoong kept driving to where your houses are on the other side of town, you might not have made it at all. The weather is just getting worse, more dangerous. Here is likely the safest place you could be in this storm. It's safe here.
But you aren't warm yet. Fuck, you're colder than anything. With your adrenaline gone, your cold, wet clothes are chilling you to the bone. You let out a shiver, and it turns into full body spasms. Hongjoong notices, of course he does. However, he looks just as freezing as you are.
"Let me find the thermostat," he says. He looks around at the remaining boxes of donations. "There has to be something for us to wear. I doubt your sister will mind."
You nod in agreement, understanding your assignment. Find something warm for the both of you to wear. You take off your soaked scarf and your damp jacket. It's done well up until now, but not even the nicest of winter coats can fight off the elements you've endured in the last hour. Your jeans are still wet and clinging to your legs, and at least a gallon of snow has melted into your boots, pooling around your socks.
You dig through one of the boxes. Kids' clothes. Nothing useful there. The next few are the same, but eventually you find the adult sizes. You find a fleece sweatshirt that looks to be Hongjoong's size, and a sweater that should fit you. The next box is a jackpot of woolen socks, perfect. It's several more boxes before you find a dozen flannel men's pants. The size of these doesn't matter nearly as much. You can roll the pant legs as much as you need to. Warmth is what's important.
"Found it!" Hongjoong yells from a corner in the back room. You hear the air kick on from the vents above you. Precious heat pours out of it, warming your face. He comes out a moment later. "It's electric, but there's some of those food warming burners still left if it gets bad."
You try not to think of the worst case scenario and hand him his pile of clothes. "Should keep you nice and toasty," you say with a smile.
"Thank you, darling," he says sweetly. As he takes them, he leans in and gives you a kiss. Just a quick peck, but it causes warmth to pool in your core.
You turn around, wanting to get out of your wet clothes, but you suddenly feel incredibly self conscious. You have no idea why. He's seen you naked so many times. Granted, not in well over two years, but there was a time where he could have mapped out your body by memory. He probably still can. And yet...here you are, blushing like a school girl at the thought of undressing in front of him.
And he knows. You don't need to turn around to see his smug grin, you can hear it in his voice as he says, "I'm not looking. But I sure want to."
Part of you wants to forget about the clothes and warm each other up in other ways, but that would be reckless. In a storm like this, even being inside with the heat on can still be dangerously cold. That sort of activity can wait. Just hopefully not for too long. You're suddenly very grateful that you don't have to wait out this weather with your sister around.
You peel your layers off, tossing your bra with it. You pull on the donated sweater. It smells of fresh laundry detergent, lavender and vanilla scented. Then you start the process of getting out of your soaked jeans and boots. They put up a fight, and you almost slip on the cold concrete, but you get them off and step into the flannels. Your toes freeze for just a moment before you get them into socks. But eventually you're dressed head to toe in donated clothes, already feeling much warmer.
You toss your own clothes into a pile to be dealt with later, and turn around just in time to see Hongjoong's bare back. He's no bodybuilder, but he's muscular in a subtle sort of way. You know what those muscles feel like under your fingers, and you want to reach out and touch him. But you don't. It can wait. For now.
He turns around, using his undershirt to dry the melted snow from his hair, and he smiles when he catches you watching him. He tosses the shirt to the side and holds his arms open to you. "Come here."
You don't need to be told twice. In three steps you're wrapped in his arms. You nuzzle into his chest, happily surprised to be able to smell the little bit of his cologne that still clings to his skin. It feels right to be here like this. It feels like home.
You don't know what your breaking point is. If it's him putting his chin on the top of your head, or in the way he runs his hand over your hair and down your back. But a sob builds in your chest, fighting its way up your throat. You let out the noise, half anguish, half whimper. And the tears flow freely from your eyes.
You feel him tense, but he doesn't pull away, and he doesn't comment. He let's you cry. Let's you get out all the emotion that has been building up this past week, the past two years. He holds you as every sob comes out, each more violent than the last. He continues to touch your hair, rub your back, coaxing the noises out of you.
You hold onto him for dear life. Terrified that he might disappear right now when you need him the most. But he doesn't go anywhere. He stays and holds you like it's the only thing that matters to him right now. And knowing him, knowing what you mean to him, you know it's true. You're all that matters. He's all that matters.
The tears slow to a trickle, and you slowly pull back to look up at him. His eyes are swollen with emotion too, but it seems the crying has done both of you some good. He offers you a tentative smile which you gladly return. He brings a hand to your cheek, wiping away a stray tear and then pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He cups you cheek, and you quickly turn to kiss his palm.
He looks to the side, at the lumpy futon covered in more boxes of clothes and blankets. "Shall we move somewhere more comfortable?"
You nod, not quite ready to trust your voice yet. He kisses your forehead before stepping away. You work together to move the boxes and lower the futon into a bed. Then you pile on the blankets, the more the better. The softest of them get rolled up and folded into makeshift pillows since that seems to be what you're lacking. But after some work, the futon has been transformed into a decent looking place to settle in for the night and wait out the storm.
You climb onto it, scooting back so you can lean on the pillows against the wall. Hongjoong follows, settling in beside you. You don't wait for an invitation to scooch in close, cuddling up against him. He wraps an arm around you, tugging you in even closer before throwing a blanket over the both of you. You steal a kiss, the first of many of the night. You want to keep kissing him, but you need to talk first. The words that have been eating away at you for so long have finally settled in your mind. For the first time in a long time, you know what to say.
"Hongjoong." You start with his name, it just makes sense. He raises his eyebrows at you, but doesn't speak, wanting to hear what you need to say first. "I want to start by saying I'm sorry. For so many things....I am sorry. What I said two Christmases ago...I was grieving. Losing my dad it...I shouldn't have let it affect our relationship the way it did. I'm sorry for running away. For telling you not to call me. I had so many opportunities to fix that, to text you, call you. But I never took them. I was scared that...that you would see me the way I see myself, a coward, a...a bitch. I'm sorry, Hongjoong. I...I missed you. I love you. More than anything, and I'm sorry."
The words hang in the air between you, finally spoken. You feel lighter without them weighing you down. You should have said them sooner, but you're happy to have been able to say them now, in person, face to face. A phone call, a text, would not have done them justice. Even if it took two years, you're glad to have said them.
"I love you too, Y/N," he says. "I missed you an impossible amount." His hand rubs gentle circles against your arm, a mindless touching, but a comforting one at that. "And I'm sorry too. I was only thinking about myself two years ago. You went through an unbearable loss, and I could only focus on how it affected me. I had all these grand plans for our future. I wanted to move you into my apartment, and, like a goddamn fool, I didn't even ask you if that's what you wanted."
"I should have asked if you wanted to come to California with me," you say.
"I would have said yes."
"I know. And I think that's what scared me the most. I could feel the distance between us growing, and I was terrified you would blame me for dragging you out there, getting you stuck."
"I wouldn't have thought that," he assures you.
"I know that, but...back then, I...didn't," you say sighing. "I've had a long two years to think about how poorly I handled things."
"That makes two of us."
"I don't want to be that stupid again. Because it was stupid. Running away was stupid. Leaving you on my doorstep on Christmas Eve was stupid."
Hongjoong lets out a half chuckle. "It, um, didn't feel good," he says.
You angle yourself to get a better look at him. "I'm really sorry about that part the most. It was mean."
He shrugs. "I would say I got over it quickly, but that'd be a lie."
"When did you get over it?"
He doesn't even take a moment to answer, "Probably when I saw you at the airport a few days ago." Ouch. But he continues, "I didn't expect to see you, but there you were. Leaning against the wall, looking...damn fine. It nearly knocked the breath out of me. I practically ran inside to keep myself from talking to you."
You blink in surprise at him. "You saw me outside? I didn't think you noticed."
"You were very hard to miss with all that designer stuff on," he says, teasing.
You laugh, "Oh like you're one to talk, Mr. Gucci shoes."
He throws his head back and laughs, really, truly laughs. "So what if we both have fine tastes?"
"Our taste doesn't really fit in here in Hollyleaf, does it?" you ask, your tone surprisingly serious. It's a nice town to be from, quaint, but you think you and Hongjoong know that both of you were never meant to stay put.
"And what do we do about that?" he asks, matching your energy.
"We leave," you say, leaning in again. "But together this time."
His eyes light up at that suggestion. "Together?"
"Together. I know I'm in California, and you're in New York, but I want to be with you, Joong," you say. "Again. Like we're supposed to be."
He smiles, nodding along. "I would like that a lot, Y/N."
You lean up and kiss his cheek. "Like I said, you'd like LA."
He angles himself toward you and puts a hand on your cheek, drawing you in again. "And if I said you would like New York?"
Your lips brush his as you say, "You'd have to convince me. Show me the city. Everything you love about it."
He closes the distance between your mouths, pressing a kiss to you. "Gladly," he whispers against your lips. "And you'll do the same for me?"
You nod, moving to be able to kiss him better. "I'll show you everything I love about California," you promise.
Hongjoong kisses you, deeply, slowly. Like he has all the time in the world to memorize the feel of your mouth on his. And with the storm that rages outside, he does. For now, he does.
You don't remember laying down, but somehow you end up on your back with Hongjoong hovering over you, his mouth still on yours. One hand is on your cheek, the other beside your head, holding himself up. You want him closer still, need him closer. You need to touch him, reacquaint yourself with every inch of him. You slip a hand under his shirt to touch his stomach, his chest. He lets out a yelp, shrinking back, pulling away.
"Your goddamn cold hands," he hisses, grabbing your wrist. You can't help but smile as he brings your hand to his mouth, kissing each finger. "No touching until your hands are a reasonable temperature."
You pout at him. "That's not fair. What are we supposed to do until then?"
The look burning in his eyes could set you on fire. This time it's his hands that go under your shirt. His warm, soft hands. You let out a gasp when he touches the curve of your waist and squeezes. You don't stop him, you wouldn't dare put an end to what he's starting. He moves his hand up further until he brushes the tips of his fingers along the underside of your breast. His thumb moves over your peaked nipple, teasing at the sensitive spot. His smirk is impossible to hide.
"Joong," you say, warning him about what might happen should he keep teasing you.
He ignores it, sliding his hand back down over your stomach then to your waist again. He leans down to kiss you, his mouth distracting you from his teasing touches for the moment. You wrap your arms around his neck to keep him close, sighing into his mouth as his tongue finds his way between your lips. You submit to him easily, and he rewards you with a squeeze of your thigh. Your legs spread apart as if by instinct.
"That's my girl," he whispers, the praise making you weak.
"Touch me, Joong." You aren't begging, but you're close to it. If he presses you, you just might resort to it.
But you don't have to. He gives you what you want, slipping a hand under your waistband cupping you, claiming you like you belong to him. And, fuck, you just might. He rubs his fingers against you from the outside of your panties, the friction not anywhere near satisfying.
"Hongjoong," you whine out his name. Need building in your core.
He does it again, a little more pressure this time, but it still isn't enough. You writhe under him, needing, demanding more. He kisses you harder, cutting off your whining. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, nipping at him. Not enough to cause pain, but enough to get his attention. He laughs into your mouth.
"So sassy," he chides.
He moves your panties to the side with one finger. Just one, pressing between your folds. You feel his lip twitch into a smile, and you know he's pleased with how soaked you are. He keeps at it with just one finger, toying with you, playing with you. He doesn't go anywhere near your clit, no, you haven't earned that yet. He just swirls a finger, teasing at your entrance. Not going in, just playing.
You let out another needy whine. You won't beg. You won't. You try to take control of the situation by deepening the kiss, and he entertains it for a minute, opening his mouth to you. He let's your tongue explore his mouth, teasing back with his own. Fuck, he knows how to drive you absolutely crazy.
You move your hips, trying to get an sort of satisfaction from his hand, but he's not ready to give you want you want just yet. And that's when you realize what he's doing. Why he's making you wait, why he's making you earn your pleasure. It's for the two damn years you spent out of reach. The bastard.
So maybe you do need to beg. Or at the very least say something you very rarely say in bed.
"Please." The word comes out in a gasp, so breathy you aren't even sure if it's a word. "Please, Joong."
And that was it, that was what he was waiting for. He moves his mouth off yours, but keeps his lips on your skin, moving down, kissing his way down your neck. Another finger finds it's way under your panties, pressing, teasing. He rubs against your clit in slow circles, giving it the lightest pressure. The sensation is enough to drive you mad. You want your clothes out of the way already, needing him on you, in you.
But he's still going to draw things out. Because he's nothing if not a perfectionist. He pulls his hand away, out of your pants. And you watch, jaw hanging open, as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking your taste off of them. Fuck, you could cum just from the sight.
He moves, settling between your legs, hands on your thighs again, squeezing them, spreading them apart. He looks you over, like a predator assessing his prey.
"I'm not going to undress you," he says, his voice firm, slipping into the dom territory you love so much. When he sees your pout, he explains, "It's too cold to be completely nude. But I'll remove only what I need to, how's that sound, darling?"
You nod, words already difficult. His hands are at your waistband again, but he doesn't make you wait before he pulls at them. You lift your hips, helping the pants slide off. The cold air hits your thighs and your ass, and you let out a shiver. You're grateful for the wool socks that cover your feet up to your calves. You don't have much time to focus on the chill before Hongjoong has his hands on you again.
Two fingers tease at your pussy, massaging your clit again, building up your pleasure. But you're still nowhere near an orgasm. And he knows that. His fingers move to tease at your entrance, going in just a touch, not enough, not nearly enough. You're sick of him playing with you, but even with all the time spent away from him, he has you well trained. You'll wait as long as he makes you, because you know he'll make it worthwhile.
"Look at me, Y/N," he says, his tone even, but you hear an edge to it that you are familiar with.
Your eyes flick to his, your lids heavy with desire. "Yes, Joongie?" You let some brattiness slip into your own voice, knowing it will drive him just as crazy.
He keeps his fingers moving slowly, taking his sweet time with you. "Now be honest with me, darling." Pleasure fog is setting in and it's getting hard to focus on his words. "Were you with anyone while we were apart?"
You blink at him. That's not what you expected to hear right now. "Joong."
He angles his head to the side when you say his name. Full predator. Uh oh. Those eyes mean danger. Slowly, he eases a finger into your, curling slightly. Right. Where. You. Like. It. "Answer me."
You let out a short gasp at the sensation. "Joongie."
He moves his finger against his favorite spot to tease, causing a moan to slip off your tongue. "I'm being patient, Y/N. But it won't last forever. Answer my question. Were you with any other men?"
Fuck, he's hot when he's jealous. Always has been. Not that you've ever given him a real reason to be jealous. You're not a cheater, you wouldn't dare break that kind of trust. But two years is a long time. And you weren't talking to him. And you can explain that to him if he'd just stop it with his damn finger.
He slips his finger out only to press two more back in, filling you a little more. The pleasure building again as he works them deeper, stretching you that much more. You gasp again, ready to beg him to not stop. But that damn look in his eyes. You won't be getting anything else until you answer.
"Once!" you gasp out. It feels like a biblical confession to tell him this. "Just one time."
"Are you being honest with me?"
You nod, gasping out yes, yes, yes. It really was just one time. A little under a year ago, New Year's Eve. Your mom and sister had left to return home, and you were lonely. So fucking lonely. It was a guy from work, the cute one who was an insatiable flirt. But respectful still. You didn't plan on running into him, but he was at the club at midnight. And so were you. You danced. You kissed. You went home with him.
Hongjoong's hand is moving faster now, slipping easily in and out of your wet pussy, his digits soaked by you. "And how did he compare to me?"
You cry out another moan when he hits that spot over and over. "He didn't, Joong!" You feel tears, not of sorrow, but of pleasure, form at the corners of your eyes. And you're being honest. The sex was good, not great. Just good. He was a decent size, and he made sure you finished first, but it wasn't this. Wasn't Hongjoong.
As a reward for your honestly, he keeps his fingers in you and uses his other hand to give some much needed attention to your clit. You cry out his name, louder that time. Your back arching off the bed as he takes good care of you. You've tried to replicate the way he touches you, but toys, your own fingers...they simply don't compare.
Your orgasm crashes over you, flooding your mind with pleasure, leaving you breathless and panting. You think you see stars floating above you, and you blink as you try to watch them. One blink later and Hongjoong is over you again, his stupid mouth curved into a smug smirk. But you don't care. He has a right to be smug. You reach for him, needing his mouth on yours.
"That's my girl," he says against your lips, letting you control the kiss.
You thank him with tongue and teeth, worshiping his lips with your own. His fingers are still touching you, still playing between your folds. You know he isn't done, not even close. Which is good, because there's still plenty you want to do to him too.
He kisses you until you both need air. You're breathing heavily, breathless from the kissing, the orgasm, and the way he's still touching you.
"What do you want next, darling?" he asks in a whisper.
"Anything," you breathe out. "I want to take care of you too."
He smiles, something wicked in his eyes. "Oh, I'll get what I want from you, there's no doubt about that," he muses. "But right now is all about you."
Of course it is. If he's involved, it's always about you. But you want him taken care of too. You attempt to reach for him, blindly reaching for his waist, his pants. He catches your wrist and shakes his head.
"What did I just say, my darling?" he asks, but you know better than to answer. Even after two years apart, he has you well trained. Instead you just pout again and let him take care of you. "Good girl. Now, hands above your head. Behave."
All you can do is nod and do as you're told, watching as he moves. He kisses you on the lips one more time, and then your neck, and then lifts you sweater just enough to place a kiss on your stomach. And then he moves lower still, until his head between your thighs. You stare, wide eyed, down at him, and the look he gives you in return is downright sinful. He presses a kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh before giving it a little nip of his teeth.
"Joong!" you gasp at the small bite.
His only response is a short chuckle, and then his mouth is on you. The first flick of his tongue sets you on fire. You let out a half gasp, half moan. You want to touch him so bad, but you keep your hands where he instructed you to. And you plan to listen. At least for now.
Hongjoong is talented, to say the least. His tongue swirls between your folds, over you clit. He nips at you with his teeth, sucks you with his lips. He's devouring you like he's been starved, and you suppose, for two years, he has. His fingers dig into your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide while he feasts.
Your core heats again, and you feel another climax building. Your moans deepen, coming out quicker with each movement of Hongjoong's tongue. He feels you tense and let's out a satisfied growl of his own when your pleasure builds. His mouth stays on you while your body spasms through your completion. Your moan subside into satisfied whimpers.
You moan out his name, "Hongjooooong."
And only then does he come up, propping himself over you, hand beside your head. That damn smug smirk still playing on his lips. You try to glare at him, but it doesn't stick. Yo end up giving him a soft smile, completely melted underneath him.
And the motherfucker licks his lips as he looks down at you. "Tastes just like I remembered." He leans down towards you and presses a kiss to your neck, keeping his lazy pace.
"Joong," you whisper. "Want to touch you."
You feel him sigh, contentedly, against your neck. Though he's been focused solely on your pleasure, he's gotten plenty of satisfaction from this. His hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers as he brings his lips to yours. You can taste yourself as he slips his tongue into your mouth again. You wrap your legs around his waist, trying to grind against him despite your position underneath him.
You take your other hand and run it down his chest, his stomach, feeling the muscles firm muscles of his abdomen under his shirt. You wish it wasn't so cold so you could get it off of him. But that can be saved for later. As much as you want nothing between your skin and his, some things must be sacrificed.
But it doesn't stop you from reaching under the hem of his shirt and touching him anyway. He hisses against your mouth at your cold fingers touching him, but he doesn't stop you this time. Maybe your hand has warmed up a little by now. You missed the feel of him, of touching him. And you know he must feel the same, which is why he hasn't been able to keep his hands off you.
You move your hand to his waistband, fingertips teasing at the elastic. He pulls away, just enough to look at you. His cheeks are flushed, and he blinks at you. Like he's in awe you want to touch him like that. You close the distance between your mouths again, kissing him while you slip your hand into his pants. It's your turn to have fun.
You wrap your hand around him, and he twitches slightly at the contact. You're more than pleased to find him already hard, and you give him a slow stroke, rubbing your palm against his full length. He groans into your mouth, purely guttural. You do it again and again, working him slowly, building his pleasure. You hear his breath catch when your rub your thumb over his tip, you're pleased to feel a little bit of precum already leaking out.
"Y/N," he whispers into your mouth, more a moan than a word.
You keep moving your hand, stroking, squeezing. His breath catches, choking on a gasp, and he buries his face into your neck, groaning against your skin. You know he's close, you can feel it in the tension of his body. He's barely holding himself up over you. He grinds into your hand, chasing more friction.
"That's my Joongie," you whisper the praise to him.
The words are his breaking point. He pulls away quickly, suddenly out of your reach. And only when you see the wildfire in his eyes do you understand why. He gets his pants off quickly, fueled by desperation and pure need. And then he's over you again, between your legs. And you feel him. Nudging at your entrance.
"Y/N," he says again. His voice cracks on your name, and you realize he's asking permission.
You throw your arms over his shoulders. "Yes, Hongjoong. Yes. Please!"
He presses into your slowly, and drawn out thrust that gives your body plenty of time to adjust to him. You let out a soft gasp as he fills you. The feeling of him inside you is so familiar that it makes your chest ache. You missed his presence, his voice, his laugh...but you also missed his body. His absence affected you more than you ever realized. And only being with him like this does it suddenly all make sense. It makes you wonder if he's experiencing the same sort of thing.
But you don't have time to dwell on it, because once he's full buried in you, your mind short circuits. And thoughts become very, very difficult. He slowly pulls out, and you feel every inch of him leave until just his tip remains. You dig your nails into his shoulders, needing him again. He gets the message loud and clear, and he thrusts back in. Quicker this time, repeating the motions until he finds a pace that works for the both of you. You hear him grunt with each movement, and then the grunts turn into panting. His breath is hot on your face with each exhale. You can't hold in your own noises, moaning every time he moves in you.
You feel your walls flutter around him, and you know what sort of effect it has on him too. He curses under his breath between his own moans. Sometimes his says your name again, sometimes it's just noises of pure pleasure and ecstasy. And he's in no rush, neither are you. It's not about the finish line, not right now. It's about the moment itself, the time you have together. And right here, in this old shop while a storm rages outside, nothing matters except you and him.
This isn't just sex. It's more than a frenzied fucking. The words never really made sense before, but there's no other way to describe it. You and Hongjoong...you're making love. Pure and simple.
You feel your body tense, and you know you're close to another orgasm. You moan, trying to form words, to say something to tell him how close you are. But you can't make any sensical noises. You arch your back, crying out as the waves of pleasure build into a tsunami of bliss.
Hongjoong let's go of whatever control he was still hanging onto and slams into you. Hard, rough. It's enough to tip you over the edge, you body shaking with release. And he fucks you through it, thrusting hard with each shudder of your body. He's adding to your pleasure and chasing after his own at the same time. It takes only seconds for his body to tense in the same way, and he buries himself deep into you as he finishes. A moment later, you feel the warmth of his orgasm leak out around him and onto your thighs.
You're both breathing heavily, panting for air. He rests his sweaty forehead against yours while you both catch your breaths. You feel him slowly pull out. You want to protest, beg him to stay just a little while longer, but you're both spent. You know that there will be time for more later.
"I love you," he whispers. He starts to pepper your face with kisses, making sure to get every inch of your cheeks and forehead with his lips.
You're limp underneath him, and all you can do is smile while he showers you with affection. "Love you too," you manage to get out.
He kisses you on the lips, just a quick kiss, before his strength gives out and he collapses on the futon beside you. You half roll over to put your body flush with his. You're sweaty and hot and still wearing the sweater you put on, but for as much as you wish it was off, you know better than to remove it. You're warm now, but you can feel the chill in the air on your bare legs.
You nuzzle against his chest, cuddling in close. He wraps an arm around you and holds you tight. He pulls away just for a moment to throw a blanket over your legs and his. You tilt your head back to be able to look at him. He's smiling at you, a sleepy sort of smile.
Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader
Word Count: 3.3k
Summary: Wooyoung begrudgingly lets you take over his kitchen to make cookies for your workplace's annual Christmas cookie competition. Neither of you were expecting quite this much chaos, however.
Warnings: NSFW. Explicit sexual content, dirty talk, D/s dynamics (Dom!Wooyoung), brat-taming, praise & light degradation kink, possessive language, spanking/light impact play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, and explicit language. 18+ only.
MDNI
Holiday Masterlist
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
"I thought you said this wasn't going to destroy my kitchen?" your boyfriend's voice sounded from behind you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you flicked the stand mixer on to beat together the eggs and sugar you had just measured.
"It's not destroyed!" you countered, already trying to figure out how to dig yourself out of the flour caked hole you had dug yourself. "You know I'm going to clean up when I'm done. I always do!" You turned and shot him your patented puppy dog eyes that always worked in your favor.
"What are you even doing in here?" His curiosity drew him into the kitchen, surprisingly calm considering the disaster that you had created in his state of the art kitchen. Wooyoung stopped at the racks of freshly baked cookies you had just taken out of the oven, inspecting the rows of baked goods.
"Baking cookies for work. I thought I told you about the competition a few days ago," you explained, turning back to the batch you were currently working on.
"Okay not my fault I was half asleep when you told me," he retorted, picking up one of the barely cooled peanut butter cookies and taking a bite out of it.
"Hey! Not for you!" you shouted, throwing the hand towel that had been draped over your shoulder at him. "Wooyooooung," you whined, pouting as a triumphant smile spread across his lips.
"What? I'm just inspecting them. Somebody has to make sure they aren't poisonous!" he joked, dodging the crumpled up paper towel that now flew directly at his head.
"This is exactly why I tried doing this when you were busy. You always eat everything before we finish," you complained, measuring out a half cup of sugar.
"Okay, I promise no more snacking," he walked over to wrap his arms around your waist, wiping the crumbs from his fingers on his t-shirt. He pulled you back into his chest, his nose pressing into your hair that you had hastily thrown up into a bun before starting your bakes that afternoon. You felt him press a kiss into the crown of your head. A soft hum fell from your lips in response to his affection.
"Can you grab the vanilla?" you nodded in the direction of the small bottle that had been left at the other end of the counter.
"I can think of several things I would rather do right now," his voice dropped in pitch, breath suddenly hot against your neck.
"Wooyoung," you warned. If he had it his way, you would probably never leave his bedroom. And as enticing as that sounded, the (annoyingly) rational part of your brain fought against the idea on a daily basis.
"You're no fun," he pouted as he begrudgingly left your side to retrieve the small bottle.
"Oh I'm plenty of fun. You're just mad that I'm making you keep it in your pants for longer than an hour," you giggled, accepting the vanilla and measuring out a teaspoon before adding it to the half completed dough recipe. Wooyoung reclaimed his spot behind you, hands strategically placed where your shirt had ridden up slightly when you had reached for a new bowl in the cabinet above you.
"Do you ever behave?" you huffed, scooping a cup of flour into a sifter.
"Do you?" he shot back, thumbs now rubbing in small circles against your exposed skin. "How am I supposed to function when you're in here looking like this, hm?"
"Like what? An icing covered hot mess express?" you replied, dumping another cup of flour before beginning to sift it into the larger mixing bowl.
"You got the hot part right," Wooyoung whispered as he launched his twofold attack - his hands squeezed against your hips while his lips met the sensitive spot just under your ear. The sudden assault made you jump, flour flying out of the sifter and all over your black sweater.
"Wooyoung!" you shrieked, placing the sifter back on the counter and turning to smack his arm. "Look at what you did! What a mess," You gestured at your top that now looked like you had dove straight into a pile of snow.
"First of all, I didn't do that." His mouth broke out into his signature shit eating grin as your scowl deepened. "Secondly, I think we can make a bigger mess."
His words hit their mark, heat pooling in your stomach. However this time, you refused to let him win. He always won. You chose to stand your ground, focusing back on your baking.
"Well I think you can work on cleaning up the mess you've already made." You pushed his shoulders lightly, making him take a step a back and giving you space to remeasure the displaced flour. "And I swear if these cookies don't turn out right because of you I'll-"
"You'll what?" He smirked, knowing you had nothing to leverage against him.
"Let's just say you and your hand will get to rekindle your relationship." You flipped the mixer back on, watching as the flour slowly incorporated into the rest of the dough. Wooyoung's hand reached around you, turning the mixer back off before grabbing your arm and spinning you around. The eyes that now met yours were missing their playful glint from earlier, now darkened in warning - letting you know exactly what will happen if you continued.
"You might want to rethink those words, babygirl." He moved his arms to either side of you, effectively trapping you in place against the counter. You couldn't help the slight tremble of your body as you took a shaky breath.
"No I think I said exactly what I meant," you doubled down, chin rising as you met his gaze.
"You aren't going to be doing much thinking by the time I'm done with you."
It took every ounce of strength within you to not immediately fold at his words. You wanted to see just how far you could push him, craving how hot his hands burn when he loses control.
"I have to finish these cookies, babe. I refuse to lose to Josh's gingerbread village aga-" Your words were clipped short by Wooyoung's lips crashing against yours. The sheer force behind the kiss was enough to have you melting into a puddle in his hands.
His tongue swiped across your bottom lip, eagerly asking for entrance. You felt every muscle in him tense as you pulled away from him, your hand lightly pushing against his chest. The smallest whimper left his throat as his brain processed your denial.
"My snickerdoodles are going to burn," you tried explaining as you glanced at the timer that blinked back fifteen minutes remaining.
"I'll make you new ones. Now stop-" he lunged forward, attaching his lips to yours before trailing them down your chin and onto your neck, "being a brat." His final word was punctuated with his hands gripping under your thighs to pull you up onto the counter. Your legs moved without question, spreading enough for Wooyoung to slot perfectly between them.
The grin that spread across his face was enough to tell you he knew he won. And if you were a stronger woman you would have pushed back, but you needed him desperately. Your hands threaded through his hair, lips clashing against him again in a flurry of sloppy kisses. He swallowed each and every moan that left your lips as his hands trailed up and down your body, unable to choose where to focus on first.
"So easy," he growled, his teeth nipping at the sensitive spot on your neck he had mapped out long ago. "Already melting for me." His hands found purchase on your hips, kneading the skin until you were sure bruises would bloom in the morning.
"Woo," you sighed. His hands were leaving burning trails in their wake, your body responding to each and every grip. Your hips scooted towards the edge of the counter craving any whisper of contact he would grant you. His fingertips teased along the hem of your sweater, dipping under it as his lips dipped to your collarbone.
"Gonna be good for me now?" he mumbled against you. All it took was half of a nod before your top was quickly ripped off, his lips reattaching to your skin as soon as the pesky fabric was discarded. His mouth trailed lower, peppering kisses along the cup of your bra. Another moan slipped from your lips as he slowly marked the soft flesh of your breasts. His teeth sank down for no more than a second before his lips and tongue were soothing the agitated skin, causing your brain to enter full shut down mode.
Your quiet whimpers had his hands creeping up your back, massaging your muscles as they worked up your spine. Adept fingers made quick work of the hooks on your bra, the fabric slipping away before you could say a word. Your head tilted back, resting against the cabinets as Wooyoung's mouth found your hardened nipples, his tongue swirling around them with precision.
"Still care about those cookies?" You could hear his smirk, loving the way you fell apart for him.
"I will if you don't touch me," your voice came out in a needy pant, hips pushing forward again in want.
"So greedy," he chuckled, looking back up from where his mouth was leaving marks across your chest. "You think you deserve my hands?" His palms fell flat against your thighs, dragging downwards.
"Please," you begged. Lust clouded every corner of your brain, only being able to focus on your need for his touch. When his hands didn't move any closer to where you needed him you knew what he wanted to hear. "Please Woo, I'm sorry for being a brat I need-" your breath hitched as his fingers found the waistband of your shorts, stilling as he waited for you to finish your sentence. "I need you so badly."
Your admission granted you exactly what you craved. His slender fingers slipped below the waistband of your pajamas. A deep groan sounded from his chest as he found how wet your panties were, his fingers teasing you over the thin fabric.
"What's this?" His voice had a teasing lilt to it as he pressed against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through you. "Soaked and I haven't even started touching you properly, angel." He pressed harder, eliciting a guttural moan from deep within you.
You were doing your best to not get lost in his feverish touches, clawing onto the small bit of sanity you still had. But Wooyoung knew you too well. Knew exactly how your body responded to his touches, unraveling you in a way only he could.
His hand slipped under the waistband of your underwear, fingers collecting your slick before rubbing gentle circles against your clit. You were no longer in control of your motions, your hips grinding against his hand asking for more. Wooyoung, however, had his own ideas for this afternoon. His touches remained consistent, pushing you closer to the edge without giving you the release you so desperately wanted.
"You'll have to work a little harder," he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His fingers annoyingly stilled against you, waiting for another response. He loved it when you begged. Craved it.
"Please, please," your voice came out in whiny breaths, "Woo, please. I'm sorry. I'll - I'll do anything, please." Your words granted you exactly what you needed, his fingers working against you in the way only he knows how to.
"Anything?" he asks, digits digging into your sensitive nub. It was dangerous what you had just said, and you knew it. You weren't sure what he had in store, but you knew it would be exactly what you needed. So when you nodded, pupils blown in desire. You weren't surprised when his fingers urgently entering you, two of them plunging deep into your drenched walls. His fingertips brushed against his favorite spot. The one that sent you cross eyed, vision blurring as pleasure ignited across every cell of your being. "You're playing a dangerous game babygirl."
His fingers were set in a relentless rhythm, coaxing you higher and higher until your high pitched whines were broken pleas to cum.
"Can I-" your previous training kicked in, reminding you to ask before coming undone on his fingers. "Please Woo. I need-" your words turned into mindless babbles as he coaxed his that spot within you.
"Go on, angel. Cum for me." His words sent your body tipping over the edge, clenching down on his digits. A string of profanities slipped from you as you rode out your high, his fingers never halting. The stimulation quickly became too much. You tried moving away from his hands, gasping as his fingers continued their assault against you.
"Too much," you tried uttering, body still twitching after your last orgasm. Wooyoung's hands only picked up speed as you squirmed, clearly choosing the punishment you deserved for your previous actions.
"You will take what I give you." His lips attached to your neck once again, teeth promising dark bruises by the time he was done with you. "And you won't complain. You're going to thank me. Right, babygirl?"
As if you weren't already putty in his hands. He knew how you would react - hips bucking up against his hand once again, chasing another high. His fingertips brushed against the spot that sent stars dancing across your vision. Your back was arched, head lolling back as you neared your second orgasm of the day,
"Thank you, thank-" your words were slipping from your subconscious, knowing it was what he wanted to hear.
"Too easy," Wooyoung mumbles as he attaches his lips to your nipple once again, knowing that it would send you over the edge. Your body twitched against his, nonsense leaving your lips as you clenched around his fingers. His hand continued to thrust into you a few more times before stilling, granting you a small moment of peace to come back into your body.
"You okay?" he asked, searching for permission to continue what you had started. Your breaths were heavy, body still trembling around him. This is what you loved about Wooyoung. He knew how to take you apart, but also how to piece you back together afterwards.
"Need."
It was all you could say. He had already pushed you over the edge twice, but you needed more. You needed him. And he had trained you to need him exactly like this. So many nights spent seeing how far he could push you, how far your body would bend and break for him. And only him.
"Oh now you need me? I thought you wanted to bake your cookies?" His hands pulled your hips off the counter, your legs barely holding your weight now. "Is my poor baby too tired to take me, hm?"
Your head shook immediately in protest. "Please?" Your voice was broken, pleading for his touch. Wooyoung brought a soft kiss to your forehead. You basked in the calmness of his gesture, nuzzling into his hand as it cupped your cheek.
Before you could appreciate his gentleness for too long he spun you around, pushing you over the counter you had just been sitting on. You trembled as your shorts were pushed down your legs, your panties following in quick succession - strings of your previous releases sticking to the fabric as he pulled it away. Wooyoung's firm grip pulling you apart so that he could admire you, his eyes marveling the feast you laid in front of him.
"Fuck y/n." His voice was dripping with desire, enamored with your dripping pussy. His thumb pressed against your folds, eliciting a moan from deep with you. "So beautiful," he muttered, thumb pressing through your folds without entering where you needed him the most.
"Woo," you pushed back against him. He removed his hand letting you press against his clothed bulge, need possessing you to the fullest. The groan you received in return sent a fresh wave of wanting through you, causing your hips to press back against where your boyfriend was standing behind you. Suddenly, you hear the sweet sound of him unclasping his belt and his pants hitting the floor behind you.
He could have predicted your response to his undressing. Your head swiveled back, searching for his gaze. Your body was braced against the counter, tits kissing the cold surface in anticipation.
"Always so good for me." His hands smoothed across your backside, goosebumps spreading across your sensitive skin. "Too bad you earned some punishment."
His words barely left his mouth before his entire length plunged into you. Pain and pleasure mixed into a delicious concoction that left you begging for more. His thrusts were impossible deep and deliciously relentless. His hand smacked across your ass with a sharp sting. The pain quickly dissipated as he continued to pound into you, a wet squelching sound eliciting from where you were connected.
Wooyoung's fingers threaded through your hair, pulling your head back so that your back arched just perfectly against him. Tears began to stream down your cheeks as he continued to pound into you persistently. This is exactly how he liked you, soft and pliant under his fingertips - feeling every inch of him that he gave you.
As oversensitive as you were, Wooyoung pushed you towards another high. Hips slamming against yours, eliciting vulgar sounds from deep within you. Thoughts were no longer an option in your current state, holding onto the cold bite of the countertop to ground yourself. Stars danced across your vision as you felt yourself clamp down around him.
"Shit, shit." You could feel Wooyoung stutter, enjoying the clenching of you around him. He was holding off as best as he could, but the way your pussy pulsed against him was testing him. "Want me to fill you up that bad?"
His question had you pressing back against his thrusts. The only thing keeping you semi-coherent was the idea of his release dripping down your thighs. His rhythm grew sloppy, clearly chasing his high as he continued to relentlessly pound into you.
"Yeah, you're mine aren't you?" Wooyoung's hand collided with your ass with a sharp slap, quickly kneading the reddened skin before delivering another. "Say it."
"Yours!" The sharp bite of the granite countertop against you was a welcome payment for the earth-shattering orgasm that was knocking at your door. "Yours, yours, I'm yours."
"Good girl," he growled, his fingers wrapping around you to press against your swollen clit. Each circle of his digits coaxed wanton sounds from deep within you, your cheeks burning red by the time you were close to another orgasm.
"Please Woo, you're so big. Feel so good, please," you were mindlessly babbling at this point, so cockdrunk that you couldn't even see straight. Wooyoung's fingers picked up speed in response to your walls clenching around him, ripping a third orgasm from you. Your whole body was convulsing against him as he continued to drive into you, his tip pressing against your g-spot with relentless precision.
His hips faltered as your walls continued to pulse against him. The sight of your body melting against the counter, tears and drool dripping deliciously down your face was enough to send him over the edge. A few more thrusts had him filling your pussy to the brim with cum, some of it slipping out as he thrust a few final times.
As the two of you caught your breath, you finally noticed the faint sound of your alarm going off - indicating that your cookies needed to come out of the oven.
"Told you my cookies would burn," your words slurred together, your body already craving the bath you were sure your boyfriend was about to run for you.
"Just send me the recipe, angel." His words slipped through your subconscious as you fought to stay awake. "Not like you'll be standing when I'm actually done with you."
Summary: You used to spend every Christmas in your hometown, but since your rough break up two years ago, you've avoided the place...and him. This is your first time back to Hollyleaf since, maybe it's fate or purely bad luck, but you can't seem to stay away from Hongjoong...or the feelings that refuse to leave you alone. You don't miss him. You don't...
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
Two layovers and several overpriced cups airport coffee later, your final plane touches down at the regional airport an hour away from your small hometown. With Christmas less than a week away, the place is busy with travelers arriving and departing. It's a short walk to the baggage claim from the terminal, and an even shorter one to the pick up zone. Your eyes scan over the line of cars, looking for your sister's red pickup. You bribed her with promises of baking cookies, sipping hot chocolate, and helping with errands in exchange for driving all this way to get you. You may both be well into your twenties, but some sister traditions never die.
Not seeing her truck, you settle against a the wall. You pull your coat tighter around you and adjust the scarf you hastily threw on before stepping outside. It's been two years since you came home, and it's colder than you remember. The years spent living in southern California have definitely thinned out your blood. You can only hope you're able to keep warm for the two weeks you'll be home.
Me: Waiting by door 8
You shoot off the text to your sister, and a pocket your phone. You rub your hands together in an attempt to warm them up, annoyed at yourself for forgetting your gloves. You consider stepping back inside to where it's warm, but before you can grab your bags, something catches your eye. Or rather...someone.
You completely freeze when you see him. You don't know why you're acting surprised by the sight. Your hometown is his hometown too. And of course he's also come home for Christmas. That too should come as no surprise, he was always the consistent one on that front.
You press your back against the wall and tuck your chin into your scarf. You don't want him to spot you, you really don't. Because if he sees you, he might approach you. And if Hongjoong approaches you, then he might talk to you. And if he talks to you...well, the last time he talked to you, it certainly didn't end well by any means.
But despite that. Despite not wanting anything to do with him, your curiosity is urging you to sneak a longer look at him. You give in too easily to the temptation. He's aged well in the two years since you last saw him in person. His hair is longer than he usually keeps it, well kept, but slightly falling into his eyes. He's dressed nicely too. Nicer than anyone else around, except maybe you. The both of you have always favored classy styles. And it's very evident now that you can both afford the nice designer brands.
He has his phone in his hands, texting someone. Maybe his mom, you think. You want to look away, but you can't. You see him take in a deep breath and pinch the bridge of his nose. He's annoyed. You know him well enough to know his tells. He sighs and turns to go back inside, disappearing into the crowd.
You feel some ease settle over you now that he's out of sight. You knew there was a risk of seeing him on this visit, but hopefully you can avoid him the rest of your time here. You don't need to open those old wounds. You don't have much planned for this trip. Most of your time is to be spent at your family's house, baking cookies and staying warm by the fire, and maybe a visit or two to your grandmother's nursing home. You might go out to the holiday market in the town square, but aside from that, there will be no reason to run into him again.
Fifteen minutes go by. And then thirty. The crowd has dispersed and there are very few people outside still waiting for their rides. You get your phone out just in case you missed your sister's text. But there are no notifications. And that's when you curse when you realize your phone is still in airplane mode.
You quickly change the setting, and a flood of messages and missed calls come through. Four texts and two missed calls from your sister, and a text from your mom.
(9:12PM) Paige: Leaving now. See you soon
(9:58PM) Paige: Call me when you land.
(10:09PM) Missed Call from Paige
(10:23PM) Paige: Please call me when you can.
(10:47PM) Missed Call from Paige
(10:49PM) Missed Call from Mom
(11:02PM) Paige: I'm really sorry!
(11:12PM) Mom: Paige blew a tire. She's okay, but she can't pick you up. Call me when your able. You might need to rent a car.
You curse again when you read through the messages. It relieves you to know that your sister is okay, but now you have to figure out a way to get home. But you should probably call your mom first. She picks up on the first ring.
"Y/N! Honey, how were your flights?"
"They were fine, Mom. What's going on? Is Paige okay? Is the truck okay?"
"Paige is a little shaken up, but she'll be fine. We'll be able to get a better look at the truck tomorrow when it's light out. But Mr. Kim said it was probably just the tire. He'll tow it out of the snow when he's able."
Your stomach drops at the mention of the name Kim. You mutter a silent curse. How could you forget that Hongjoong's family owns the only tow truck in the township? But it's his father's business. It's not like Hongjoong will be there to hook up the truck.
"Is that okay with you?" your mother asks.
"What did you say?" You must have zoned out for a second there.
"I said you should rent a car," she tells you. "I'll pay you back for it. And you don't even need to keep it rented your entire time here. Just until we get the truck back."
"You don't need to pay for it, Mom. I've got it. I have my big girl job, remember?"
Your mom laughs softly at the reminder. "You should probably get a rental car before they close at midnight," she says. "Drive safe, okay, honey? It's starting to snow here. I'll leave the porch light on for you, but I need to get to bed. I'm helping Rose set up the candle booth at the market tomorrow morning."
"I'll see you soon, Mom. Love you."
"Love you too."
You gather your things and head back inside. It's mostly cleared out given the late hour and the fact that your flight was the last one in for the night. A few workers finish up cleaning, and a small family lingers by the rental car booth. A pair of exhausted children cling to their mother who is muttering into the phone.
"-lucky since Paul only knows how to drive automatic," she says to whoever is on the other line. "Thanks for reminding me to make that reservation. Just waiting for him to get out of the bathroom."
There's only one booth still lit up, and luckily, the only customer ahead of you steps to the side, key in hand. You make a beeline for the desk, but right when you get a few feet away, the worker turns off the light.
"Excuse me," you quickly say. "I need a car."
"Sorry, miss," the worker says, apologetic. "We're out of cars, just handed over the last keys."
"What? You don't have-?"
"It's the holidays," she shrugs. "We might have some returns in the morning."
"Am I supposed to spend the night here? How can I get home at-?" You check your phone for the time. Midnight. Shit.
"I don't-"
You don't let her finish, you just turn around before you cry in front of a stranger. You blink your eyes and fumble to get your phone out. You have to manually add your childhood's home address since you've never needed to use Uber here. It takes an agonizingly long time for it to calculate the anticipated cost. All you can do is stare at the number that pops up on the screen. $1107 not including tip. You didn't even know Ubers could cost that much. Not even in LA did you ever see such a ridiculous number.
You feel the weight of the situation looming over you, ready to crash down. You've been traveling all damn day, you're an hour and a half away from home with no way to get there. Just as the tears threaten to fall down your cheeks you hear your name.
You don't even need to turn around to know it's him. He calls out to you so naturally. Like he does it everyday, every time he gets home. Like no time has passed. Like what happened before...never happened at all.
"Y/N," Hongjoong says again.
You wipe your cheeks with your sleeves and turn around. "What do you want?" Your tone carries more venom than intended, but it doesn't seem to phase him whatsoever. He just looks at you with raised eyebrows.
"I want to offer you a ride home," he says. Before you can even think about refusing him, he speaks again. "I know you saw me get the last rental. Put the Uber away, and let me take you home."
You stare at him, dumbfounded, for an eternity. Okay, maybe for like five seconds, but it felt like forever. "My sister is coming-"
"Your sister's truck is in the ditch by the city limits sign."
You blink in surprise. "How the hell-" And then you remember, that it's his family that owns the only towing and mechanic shop in town. "Your dad told you."
"Sure did," he says, a smile teasing at his lips. "Now, are you going to let it snow harder, or are you joining me?"
"The Uber is on its way," you lie.
"Then let me pay for it," Hongjoong offers. His phone is suddenly in his hands. "What's your venmo again? Is it still-"
"I can pay for it myself," you interrupt him. "Just...leave me alone."
"Leave you alone in an airport at midnight? Sure. Let me go take candy from some babies while I'm at it. I'm not a monster, Y/N."
"I never said-" you huff in annoyance. "I can handle myself, Hongjoong. I don't need you to take care-" You cut yourself off before saying something you both know isn't true.
"I know that. I know you can," he says. "But it's late. It's the holidays. Just let me do you this favor. As...a friend, at the very least."
You want to say no. You want to tell him to leave and never talk to you again. To keep his distance. To not make this more painful than it needs to be. But there's a small part of you that is rejoicing at his mere presence. A microscopic little piece of you that has been looking for something like this, some opportunity to be face to face with him. To remind yourself how you still feel about him, deep down.
"Only because I've been awake since 4AM, and only if you let me drive."
"If you've been awake that long then there's no way I'm letting you drive. Beside, I have to pass your house to get to mine anyway." Before you can say anything, he moves past you, grabbing your suitcase as he does.
"Hey!" you say, walking after him. "I didn't agree yet."
"Too bad." He's already to the automatic doors that lead outside to the rental lot. It's obvious which of the two vehicles out here is for you. The large gray van is being loaded up with sleepy kids and a pair of bickering parents. The only other vehicle is a beat up, well-used sedan. It's gotta be at least twenty years old. Hongjoong has to use the actual key to get the trunk popped open. Your suitcase and his both fit in perfectly next to each other.
"I thought you would have reserved something a little nicer," you mutter as you walk around to the passenger seat.
"Didn't plan on needing a rental," he says, shutting the trunk of the car. "Flight was delayed a couple hours. Didn't want to make my mom drive out this far this late."
You take a seat in the car and wrinkle your nose at the scent of stale cigarette smoke and old upholstery. Before you an comment on the stink of the car, Hongjoong sits down beside you and as he shuts his door, the scent of his cologne envelops you. It's the same exact one you picked out for him all those years ago. The one you saved up all year to get him for Christmas when you were just sixteen. The one you purposely avoid now because it reminds you of him. It is both a torture and a comfort to smell it.
Hongjoong starts the car, and you both go to turn on the heat. His fingers brush over the back of your hand, and you pull away like you touched something hot. He makes no comment on it, moving to turn on the radio next. It's set to a channel playing instrumental Christmas music.
"Is this okay?" he asks.
"It's fine." You look out the window as you speak, it's easier than looking at him. You cross your arms, tucking in the hand he grazed. You hate how you can still feel the electricity of his touch.
He reverses the car out of the spot, but when he goes to put the car in drive, he pauses.
"Something wrong?" you ask.
"Yeah...no," he says, almost too quickly. "It's nothing."
You notice how his hand is awkwardly held above the gearshift. "Do you not know how to drive manual?"
"No, I do!" he says, rather defensively. "I swear I do. It's just...been a few years."
You stifle a laugh. "Your dad is a mechanic and you can't drive shift?"
"I can drive it, Y/N," he says firmly. To prove his point, he gets the car out of the parking lot and onto the road that leads to the highway. "See? Easy."
"Uh huh." There's a lightness in your tone that you haven't heard in so long. "We still have 80 miles to go. You sure you don't want me to drive."
"I've got it," he says, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "You should try and rest."
"You know I can't sleep in a moving car," you say, keeping your face towards the window. You refuse to look at him when he's sitting this close to you.
"I didn't say sleep," he huffs. "I said rest."
"It's the same thing."
"No, it's not." He sighs, giving up on the petty argument you baited each other into. "Look, I get that you don't want to talk to me-"
"Oh, gee. What gave you that idea?"
He sighs again. "Y/N."
You finally look over at him. His attention is fully fixed on the dark, icy road that stretches out ahead of you. He gives no indication that he's aware of you looking at him. And you take the moment to get a better look at him. He looks...tired. And not just because of the late hour or the day full of travel. There's a weariness about him that runs deep, you can see it in the set of his shoulders and the way his hands grip the steering wheel. "Hongjoong."
He pulls his attention from the road to look over at you. His eyes meet yours, and suddenly, two years of words are on the tip of your tongue. There's so much you could say. Some of it mean, some of it sweet. But all of it honest.
But not right now. Not tonight.
You avert your gaze before you can say something you know you'll regret in the morning.
"How's your work?" he asks after a moment. "Are you still at that firm?"
You nod, even though you can't be sure if he's still looking at you. "Yeah, I am. Work is good. Doing what I love."
"You don't sound so sure about that."
You're happy he can't see your expression, because it would absolutely betray you. "I don't see how it's any of your business." You wish you weren't so cold to him, but it's easier this way. It'll hurt less in the long run.
"It's my business because-"
"It's not, actually. You don't need to concern yourself with my-...just forget it, Hongjoong." You reach over and turn the music up. It's not unbearably loud, but definitely too loud to have an easy conversation. It's better this way.
As frustrating as he may be, he isn't stupid. He gets the message loud and clear. You don't want to talk. The silence that lingers between you is awkward and tense. It would be so easy to turn the volume down and let him speak. If he turned it down himself, you would let him. You know you would. And he knows that too. He's always known you too well. But he respects you. Despite all that's happened between you two, he respects you. So he lets the music play, he lets you glare out the window at the dark landscape that passes by. And he drives you home.
~~~
"Okay, go over that again."
Your sister hits you on the shoulder with her to do list. "Were you not listening at all?"
You laugh, the joyful sound bubbling out of your lips. "I'm just teasing," you assure her. "But how do you plan on doing any of this without the truck?"
Paige hits you a second time. "You really weren't listening, were you? First thing on the list: call Mr. Kim to see if he can get the truck out for us."
"And if he can't?"
"Then you call your boy toy and see if he'll do it."
"Hongjoong is not my 'boy toy'," you hiss. "He's not my anything."
Paige giggles. "Right. Because someone who means nothing to you would totally not drive you home at midnight."
"We were going to same direction," you say, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. "It was simply polite."
"Suuuure."
You angrily sip your morning coffee to keep from saying something mean to her. You know she's right. And you hate that she's right. But you've ignored it for this long. You can keep on pushing these truths away until you forget about them.
"Do you want me to call, or do you?" she asks after a moment.
"You're the one that crashed the truck. You do it."
"I didn't crash-...whatever." She gets out her phone and quickly finds the right number to dial. "Good morning, Mrs. Kim. Yes, Merry Christmas to you too. Uh huh...yes, I'm okay....uh huh. She's right here. She-....oh yes. You do?" She holds out the phone to you. "She wants to talk to you.
You stare at the phone in your sister's extended hand. Hongjoong's mother is on the other end of it. The woman you spent years warming up to. The woman you had always imagined as your mother-in-law. The woman who, when you were taking pictures for junior prom, pulled you aside and warned you not to hurt her youngest son. The woman who treated you like the daughter she never had.
No. You mouth the word to your sister. You shake your head and take a step back, putting distance between you and his mother.
Paige holds the phone out further. Take it.
You shake your head, but she grabs your wrist and forces the phone into your hand. You glare daggers at her as you bring it to your ear. "Hello?"
"Y/N," she says, her tone sweet and warm. "You made it home okay last night?"
"Yes, ma'am," you say politely. "My flights were late, but I made it okay."
"Yes, dear. Hongjoong told me. I'm glad he was there to get you home safely."
You cringe at the thought of him talking to his mother about you. You need to change the subject. "Paige and I were wondering if your husband could make it out to get our truck today."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she says. "He has to help the mayor haul in the booths for tomorrow's market. Since Hongjoong has the rental car, I told him he should offer to help you and your sister."
It takes a long while for the words' meaning to make sense to you. A few of them stick out starkly in your mind. Hongjoong. Help. You.
A nervous laugh fights its way up your throat. "Oh, um...that really won't be necessary. We can-"
"She's doing pick ups for the donation drive, right? Can't do that without a car. Hongjoong will-" She cuts off, and you can hear a far away voice on the other end of the phone. You can't make out the words, but you hear her muffled reply. "Yes, you are going to help these girls. They already agreed." You can't make out if anything is said in response, but a half second later, Mrs. Kim is back, her voice loud and clear. "Y/N?"
"I'm still here."
"Yes, good. Hongjoong is leaving now. He'll be there in five."
"Wait-" you start to say, but the phone beeps, telling you that you've been hung up on. "Shit."
"Something wrong?" Paige asks, staring at you with raised eyebrows.
You hand her the phone back. "It's...um." Words are hard. There's only one word bouncing against your skull. Hongjoong. Hongjoong. Hongjoong. You shake your head, trying to get it to stop. "Mr. Kim has to help the mayor," you manage to say. "Um...Hongjoong is going to help us today."
For her sake, your sister at least manages to keep something of a straight face. "Oh, that's...are you okay with that? You don't have to help me-"
"No, I said I would," you say firmly. "It's fine. It's just some errands."
"Thank you, Y/N."
You give her a quick nod and go to put on your boots since Hongjoong will be here in less than five minutes. You stop by your room to grab your socks and pause for a moment. A wave of familiarity washes over you. You've done this before. Not this exact thing, but you've run into your room to get ready because Hongjoong is on his way to pick you up. It's almost like nothing has changed, but that isn't true. Everything has changed.
Lacing your boots helps calm any nerves that were able to build in the minutes between the phone call and when you hear the ancient rental car pull up into the driveway. Your sister is out the door first, eager to get her errands done. Before you can make a decision of your own, she is climbing into the passenger seat. Good. That's good. Sitting next to him would be a bad idea. This way you don't have to worry about accidentally touching his hand again.
You climb into the back seat behind your sister, purposely keeping your head down, not allowing yourself even the briefest glimpse of Hongjoong in the daylight.
"Good morning, Hongjoong," Paige says in her usual sweet manner. "Thank you so much for driving us around today. Y/N and I really appreciate it."
"Good morning, Paige," he says, the picture of politeness. "And it's my pleasure to help you and Y/N." Without looking, you know he's turned around in his seat to face you. "Good morning, Y/N."
"Morning," you mutter while you look for the seat belt. It takes a few seconds of fondling the backseat for you to realize the seat belt is missing. You ungracefully scoot to the other side only to be unable to find another one. The only seat belt in the backseat is in the middle. Which, in any other situation would be just inconvenient, but in this car it's a nightmare scenario. Sitting in the middle seat means you're eye level with the rear view mirror.
Hongjoong notices when you do. His eyes flick up to the mirror, and he freezes when his eyes meet yours. You want to look away. You should look away. But you can't. You're frozen in place. Staring into the warm brown depths with which you're intimately familiar. He caves first, tearing his gaze from yours. You manage to turn away too, but not before seeing the flush of pink across his cheeks that you know isn't from the cold.
He clears his throat. "Where to first?"
Paige pulls out her list. "The hardware store for the boxes, and then Murray's for the produce I ordered, then-"
"One place at a time," you interrupt her. "He probably needs to put it in his GPS."
"I know where to go," Hongjoong says as he starts driving in the direction to the store. "I'm back here more often than you are."
"No, you-"
"Where did you spend Christmas last year?" he challenges. His eyes meet yours in the mirror again. His gaze his more intense than you expected. He reads your expression like a book, and before you can answer, says, "That's what I thought."
God, you want to hate him so much. But, for as intense as his eyes are, there's no hostility in his words. He says them so matter-of-factually. There's no judgement behind them. No anger or malice. If anything, perhaps just some somber disappointment lingering between the syllables.
"Oh, I love this song," Paige says, breaking the short silence. She turns the radio up just a touch. Your sister is younger than you, but she isn't naive. You never told her what happened between you and Hongjoong. You don't even know if you can put it into words that an outsider to the situation would understand. But she knows enough to know that you both need a short reprieve. Even if it's just a single Christmas song during the short drive through town.
The hardware store is a block from main street. Luckily the side roads aren't closed for the Christmas market like the main thoroughfare is. Hongjoong pulls up right to the front of the store.
"I'll be right back out," Paige says to the both of you. "Shouldn't need help. Just pop the trunk."
She's out of the car in seconds, closing the door behind her. With the absence of your sister, the tension between you and Hongjoong is strung taut. You hear him clear his throat and tap the steering wheel. You can't do this. You undo your seat belt and reach to open the door. But it clicks and doesn't budge. Child locked.
"Let me out," you say.
"For what? She said she didn't need help," Hongjoong says.
"I'm going to help anyway," you say, refusing to look at him.
"And if you end up just being in the way?"
"Then so be it."
He still doesn't unlock the door. "I'm beginning to think you're trying to run away from me." His tone is light, pure teasing. It's insufferably, annoyingly endearing.
"What gave you that idea?" you grit through your teeth. Now you're just being obnoxious with the door handle, pulling at it over and over.
"Where did you spend last Christmas, Y/N?" The question comes from left field. Enough so that you look up, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
"That is none of your business, Hongjoong."
His thumbs rap against the wheel. "You've never missed a Christmas in Hollyleaf." He says it in barely more than a whisper.
"Did you miss me?"
He rolls his eyes. "Of course I didn't miss you." He says the words quickly. Too quickly. And you immediately know he's lying. And then he adds, "But I can't help but blame my- Oh, she's back."
You look up. He's right. Of course he is. Paige steps out of the building her arms full with a tall stack of cardboard boxes. Hongjoong, his words left hanging in the hair, reaches to open the trunk with the latch, but it clicks and nothing happens. You hear him mutter a curse of annoyance at the defective part before getting out to help her.
For a little more than a minute, you're alone in the car. Alone with your thoughts. You can hear the short, muffled conversation between Hongjoong and your sister. But you don't care what they're saying to each other. You're too busy thinking about how you spent last Christmas.
You didn't initially plan on staying in California, but time got away from you. And every time you pulled up flights, the events of the previous year's holiday season flashed through your mind. The arguments, the broken promises, the whole thing ending in disaster. You knew it would just be too hard to go back and relive it all over again, and you couldn't fathom seeing your house without your father there. So you didn't go. You paid to fly Paige and your mom to you. Even if not being able to see your grandma was devastating to your conscience. You only came back this year at your sister's insistence. And the fact that you promised yourself you would avoid the root of your frustrations.
Said frustration taps on the glass beside you, pulling you back into the moment.
"Car is locked," Hongjoong says, his voice muted by the glass between you.
What? you mouth the word to him, even thought you know exactly what he said.
"Not funny, Y/N," he says, pulling at the driver door. "Unlock it."
You can't resist the smile that forms on your lips when you see the annoyed furrowing of his brow. He glares at you through the window, though it's really more of a pout. He pulls at the door again.
"Come on," he says to you. "Open the door."
Say please.
Now he's really pouting at you. "Okay, fine," he sighs. "Please."
His pout is gone now as he looks at you. Despite the glass separating you, this is the closest you've been face to face. You can't help it. You reach up and put your hand to the window. He does the same, placing his fingers opposite yours.
You mouth the next words without thinking. Say you missed me.
His expression changes immediately. The laughter that was teasing the corners of his eyes has vanished. His brows knit together into an all too familiar pattern. He opens his mouth to speak, and his lips form whatever he was going to say, but he's cut off by your sister rapping her knuckles on the back window.
"Unlock the doors, Y/N!" Paige shouts loud and clear. "We have places to go."
You don't hesitate for a moment to reach over the driver's seat to unlock the doors. You quickly retreat back to your middle seat, putting on the seat belt again. You take the risk and lift your eyes to the rear view mirror. Hongjoong's meet yours, his expression is different this time. Not as piercing or defensive, but instead, almost anticipating. As if he's waiting for you to say or do something before he says what's on his mind.
He turns his head to the side to ask your sister, "Did you say Murray's next?"
She nods. "Yes, and then to the butcher shop."
~~~
You spend the next hour driving between businesses, while trying to fit everything into the small sedan. It gets to the point where you're pressed against the door, no seat belt, to make room for boxes of donations. All the food products were able to fit in the trunk. But after stopping by several houses and offices, the backseat was slowly overrun by clothes, and blankets, and shoes.
Your breaking point comes when Hongjoong hits a deep pothole and a pair of sneakers hits you in the nose. "I can't do this," you hiss. "Paige can we drop some of this off? Where is all of this even going?"
"I told you," she says quickly. "I was able to rent that one shop front on the corner of Main St and Lemon. You know, the one that was the jazzercise studio back forever ago. And then it was the weird jewelry store. The one with the guy who just vanished?"
"The place that was Subway for one summer?"
Paige nods. "Yeah! I rented it for the duration of the market. I don't get access until after 4 though."
You check the time. Almost noon. "Do you have more to pick up?" you ask.
"Yeah, we still haven't been to-"
"We need to drop some of this off at home then."
"If we keep going back home, we won't be able to stop everywhere on my list." She holds it up to reiterate the seriousness of the matter. "Because I have to be there at 4 to get the keys and then sign for the table rentals."
"Okay." That complicates things. But before you can even begin to try and come up with a solution, Hongjoong speaks.
"Paige, you can take the rental," he says. "Just drop me off at my house and bring the car back when you're done."
Paige scans her list and checks her watch. "We don't have time to go back to that side of town. I'm already running late as it is."
"Then I'll let you take the car at the next stop," he offers. "Y/N and I can walk around for a bit while you finish up."
You roll your eyes at Hongjoong's not so subtle suggestion. "I'll pass," you say dismissively.
You're happy you can't see his eyes in the mirror when he says, "We're going to Gracehaven next, right? Isn't that where your grandma is?"
You wish you could hate the fact that he remembered the nursing home that takes care of her. But you can't hate that sort of thing. Even if it is Hongjoong. Only someone like him would would remember such a detail even two years later.
"She is," you say, wishing you knew where he was going with this. "We're bringing her to breakfast tomorrow and then to the market." You don't want him thinking you're not going to see her while you're in town.
"Why not spend some time with her now?" Hongjoong says. "Paige can take the car, and she'll have room for more stuff. She can pick us up when she's done. I thought more time with your grandma would be something you'd like."
"It is," you say quickly, your voice sounding far away. "I...would like that a lot." You can't refuse this. Any time with her is precious. You were already feeling guilty about not seeing her today, your first day back. But now Hongjoong has given you an unexpected gift.
It's a short ride the rest of the way to the nursing home. The entire time is spent in your own head. You really thought you would be able to avoid Hongjoong this trip. Initially that's all you wanted. But now...he got you home last night, he's helped your sister with her errands, and now he's taking you to see your terminally ill grandma. You can't help but feel like he has ulterior motives, even if he's never been that type of man before.
"Just don't put it into a snow bank, okay?" Hongjoong says as he puts the car into park.
"That wasn't my fault!" Your sister whines at him teasing her. "I'm a better driver than you."
"At least a better driver than Y/N, that's for sure."
You don't take the bait, even though you want to. You simply ignore him. Barely. "I'm going inside. See you, Paige."
You manage to squeeze out of the backseat without letting any donations fall out. You're grateful for your boots because the sidewalk is icy. If you were wearing anything else, you know you'd have slipped
"Oh, shit!"
You look up at the sound of cursing just in time to see Hongjoong do exactly what you just managed to avoid. It's not funny. Not one bit. Totally not a hilarious sight to see your smug ex on his ass because of the ice.
"It seems I'm better at both driving and walking," you tease him.
"Oh, buzz off."
But despite his words, and despite yourself, you walk around the car and hold out your hand to help him up. He takes it without question. And for the second time, in less than twenty four hours, you touch hands. That same feeling is back, the electricity that exists only where your hands meet.
Once he's on his feet, you quickly pull your hand away, shoving both of them into your pockets to protect them from the cold. You clear your throat. "You have a little bit on snow on your...um..."
Hongjoong looks down at the snow that has clung to his pants, covering the majority of his backside. He quickly brushes it off, shaking his hands from the cold. When he looks back at you, you can't miss how pink his cheeks are. You know you're the same color. And you also know that neither of you are blushing from the cold.
"I'll text you," Paige says from behind. "Tell Grammy I said hi and that I'll see her tomorrow." She takes the car around to the back of the building where she will pick up the donations. Leaving you and Hongjoong alone.
"Are you hurt?" you ask when you notice he hasn't taken another step.
"I'm fine, Y/N, but thank you for your concern."
"Not concern," you correct him as you walk off towards the doors. "Just making sure you can keep up."
You don't look back to see if he follows you inside. It's nice and warm in the lobby and well decorated for Christmas. There's a tree in one corner and garland across the ceiling. You take your scarf and coat off just as the receptionist greets you.
"Is that you, Y/N?" Margaret says from behind the desk. She's worked here forever.
You smile at her as your approach. "Hi, good afternoon," you say cheerfully. "Was in the area, and thought I'd see if my Grammy was feeling well enough for a visit."
Margaret nods. "The residents just finished up lunch. I'll page the nurse to see where she is." The door shuts behind you, and she smiles again. "Oh, Hongjoong! I don't know why I'm surprised to see the two of you together," she says with a soft laugh. "Some things never change, right?"
You force a smile. "Right." You both love and loathe small town intricacies.
"You two can take a seat until I hear back from the nurse."
You thank her and retreat to the couches set up in the corner. You sit down on the plush sofa, made even cozier by the nearby space heater. You hold your hands close to it, warming them. You feel his presence lingering, looming.
"Sit down," you tell him without looking up. "You're being weird."
"I'm fine standing," he says, not moving.
"Sit down, Hongjoong," you say with a little more force.
"I said I'm fine."
You look up at him to glare at him for being weird, but you freeze when you see him without his winter coat on. He's wearing a thick sweater, dark brown. Cozy. Warm. It's not one you've seen on him before. Must be new. But it's exactly what you would pick out for him if you were still-
You need to stop. You're exes for a reason. A good reason. You think. Shit. You're staring. You need to look somewhere else. Anywhere else.
You look up at his face, which for once offers a good distraction because you can tell from his expression exactly why he's being weird. You're annoyed with yourself for being able to read him so easily.
"Your butt hurts, doesn't it?" You try to keep from laughing. Because it's not funny. Not one bit. Not at all.
"No-...no." He's shaking his head, but you know he's lying. He's avoiding eye contact like the plague, and his jaw is clenched tight.
"I'm sure we can get you some ice from a nurse," you offer, knowing it's just going to tick him off further. "Or maybe a hot water bottle? Which would you prefer?"
"Maybe while they're at it, they can find you some gloves," he throws back. "It's in the negatives outside. Did you forget yours again?"
You don't get a chance to make a snide reply before Margaret calls out to you. "Y/N? Your grandmother is in the lounge. The nurse says she's good for a short visit."
You get up from the couch quickly. Too quickly. With where Hongjoong was standing, your shoulder hits his chest when you move past. You're not typically clumsy, but you're so thrown off by his presence that you almost lose your balance. Almost.
Hongjoong catches your elbow and keeps you standing. You're not on the floor, but you're still in a predicament. You're closer to him than you were when you helped him off the ground. His hand is still on your arm, and even though your sweatshirt is between your skin and his, you can feel his touch like fire.
You step away from him, out of reach. No need to get burned right now.
Margaret waves you through the sliding doors that lead to the rest of the nursing home. You pass by a few nurses and residents who all greet you with smiles. You could probably greet everyone here by name if you took the time to stop. You're grateful that such a small town has such a nice nursing home for elderly residents who need the extra support. It made it easy when your mother sat you and your sister down to tell you she was moving your grandma in. That was right around when your dad got sick. You push away the thought of him as you go through the archway that leads to the lounge.
Just like the lobby, the large gathering room at the back of the building is decorated for the season. There are three huge Christmas trees. One massive one in the middle of the room, and two more modest trees are beside the lit fireplace. All of which are overflowing with piles of presents for the residents and staff.
You don't even need to look around to know where to go. Your grandma is in her favorite spot; the bay windows beside the fireplace that look out into the greenhouse. Even this time of year, the space is green and lush with life. It reminds you of the garden your grandma used to keep at her home in the spring and summer time. You know that's why she likes it.
She's sitting on a loveseat, a half knitted pile of yarn on her lap. She doesn't hear you call for her, but you easily get her attention by touching her hand. She looks at you as you take a seat beside her, careful not to mess up her craft.
"Hi, Grammy," you say sweetly. "It's me."
It's a moment. It always takes a moment for her to recognize you. And this time is no exception. But she knows who you are, and she smiles brightly. She puts her hand over yours, squeezing you with what little strength she has.
"Paige," she says in barely more than a whisper.
"Close," you say, keeping your voice even as you shake your head.
Her smile falters, but doesn't vanish. She shakes her head, mostly at herself. "Y/N," she says, sounding very sure of herself.
"Yeah, that's right." Your voice cracks there a little bit. "I'm home for Christmas."
"Christmas already?" she asks, looking around. She pauses when she sees Hongjoong lingering a few feet away.
You immediately regret letting him come with you. You should have told him to wait in the lobby. He doesn't need to see her like this, and him being here is just going to confuse her. She's not going to know who he is. When you introduced him as your boyfriend for the first time was right when she started declining.
"Yes," you say quickly, hoping to get her attention back. "Paige is doing donations today and needed room in the car so she dropped me off for a bit. We're still getting breakfast tomorrow, though. We're going to the Bakehouse. You still like the waffles, right?"
The mention of her favorite treat gets her too smile at you again. "Just don't tell your dad," she says, whispering like it's a secret. "You know he'll go on and on about my blood sugar."
You swallow back the heavy emotions at the mention of him. "I won't," you say, whispering back. "It's girls only, he'll never know."
Your grandma smiles at that. "Good, a girls' day it is." She looks between you and Hongjoong, but says to him, "I'm sure you're okay with me taking your girl for the day?"
You really wish he had stayed behind, but he surprises you by saying, "Being with you makes her happy. That's all I want for my girl."
"Well sit down, son," Grammy says. "Y/N, scooch closer so there's room for him."
"That's okay."
"I'm okay."
You both speak at the same time, and look to each other when you do. His eyes hold yours for a long time before he speaks again. "I'm really okay, Mrs.-"
"Please call me Grammy," she says. "You're almost family, right? Now, sit."
Neither of you are willing to say no to her. Hongjoong is too polite, and you know your grandma too well to know that she would make a scene about it. You move as close as you can to her to give him room to sit. But it's a small couch. And you don't want to crowd your grandma too much. Which means Hongjoong is close. Very close. His shoulder touches you, and his leg presses against yours. His cologne overpowers the musk of old wood and cleaning product of the nursing home, and it's all you can smell.
"What are you working on, Grammy?" you ask, motioning to the yarn. You need some conversation to distract you from Hongjoong's closeness.
"A scarf," she says. "Or socks. I'm...I'm really not sure."
"That's okay," you say quickly, before she can get upset at not remembering. "I'm sure whatever it is will be beautiful. I'm wearing the scarf you made me in middle school." You reach for it around your neck before remembering its with your jacket in the lobby. "Oh, never mind."
"Would you like me to get it for you?" Hongjoong offers. He's on his feet before you can respond. "I'll be right back."
Stunned, you watch him quickly leave for the exit. You didn't necessarily want him to leave, not that you had any say in forcing him to stay. But maybe you can admit that you're enjoying-...No. You won't admit that. Because it's not true.
Your grammy squeezes your hand again. "He's a very sweet boy, you know?"
"He is," you agree. You can lie to yourself, but you can't lie to her.
She lifts your hand, and when she does, you realize it's your left hand that she's holding. "So why haven't you married him yet?"
"It's complicated, Grammy," you say. "I live in California now."
"And is there some beach boy out there you're seeing?"
"Grammy." You let some whine seep into your voice. You're too old to be talking about boys with your grandma. "I'm not seeing anybody. Hongjoong...he's....just a friend now."
"Does he know that?"
You're saved from answering the question by the topic of said question. He has your scarf in hand, holding it out to you. It takes one look at him to know that he overheard the last few beats of the conversation. But this time, you have no idea what's on his mind. You have no idea what he thinks about you calling him just a friend.
"Thanks," you say, because that's all you can manage right now. You run your fingers over the well-loved yarn. "Do you remember making this for me, Grammy?"
She touches the ends of the scarf with her arthritis-swollen fingers. "I made you a pair of matching mittens too," she says.
"That's right," you say with a smile. "But I forgot those at home."
"You're too like your father," she chides you. "Always forgetting the important things." She looks to Hongjoong who has sat down beside you again. "You make sure she stays warm, okay?"
"I'll try," he says softly. "But she doesn't like to listen to me much these days."
You hold your tongue for your grandmother's sake, but you make a mental note to yell at him later. He won't get away with saying these things, not if you have anything to say about it.
You spend the next hour or so talking to your grandmother and sometimes, when it can't be helped, you include Hongjoong in the conversation. You tell her about living in California and about your job. She asks the same questions several times over, but you try to answer them every time with the same enthusiasm. But after the fifth time of her asking about your father, it's Hongjoong, once again, who saves you.
"It's been a lovely time spent with you, Grammy," he says when you choke on your words. "We have a lunch reservation down the street, and I want to make sure you're well-rested for your brunch tomorrow."
Your grandmother smiles at him and then at you. "Thank you for visiting me, honey. See you tomorrow."
You give her a squeeze of the hand and a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up. "See you, Grammy," you whisper. You feel Hongjoong right behind you as you return to the lobby. You can't put into words how grateful you are for him in the moment, and you want to tell him, but you don't know what you'd even say.
Jackets on, you both step outside. You turn to him, but he speaks before you can. "Your scarf," he says, motioning to your neck.
You reach to touch it, but it isn't there. "Shoot, I must've left it on the couch." You hesitate going back inside. You love your grandma, dearly, wholly. But seeing her fading in the last ten minutes of your visit affected you more than you realized. The thought of going back in fills you with immense dread.
"I'll get it for you," Hongjoong offers when he sees your face. "I'll be quick."
You only nod at his offer, words being difficult once again. You pull your coat tight around you to fight off the cold while you wait. It's a clear day, but the sun does very little against the freezing temperatures. You wish you hadn't forgotten your gloves. In the car you were okay, but now that you're outside, you want them. You shove your hands into your pockets to try and warm them.
Hongjoong is gone for longer than you expected. It shouldn't take more than a minute to get to the lounge and back. You don't know what time it was when you got outside, but it has to be pushing past five minutes since he went back in. You debate going after him, but you don't have to. He steps outside a moment later, your scarf in hand once more.
"Sorry," he apologizes quickly. "A nurse put it with the rest of her yarn." He approaches you, but this time he doesn't hand it over. Instead, he moves in close and puts it around your neck himself. The action is both familiar and foreign, something he's done a thousand times, but not with this much tension between you two. But you don't protest and just silently look up at him as he tucks it into place. Just how you like it. Your whole body feels instantly warmer, but you don't know if it's the wool...or him.
Hongjoong steps back and clears his throat. "I, um..." You watch him struggle to find his words. "It's almost 4," he says. "Are you hungry? We've been out all day."
"You don't actually have reservations for us, do you?"
He quickly shakes his head. "No, of course not. That was a...little lie," he says. "I could tell you were getting upset being in there, and I thought-...My grandfather was the same when he-...I know what it's like. And I thought-"
"Thank you, Hongjoong," you say, and you mean it. Wholeheartedly. "I'm happy I was able to spend time with her today, but when she started mentioning my dad, I-..." You feel tears in your eyes, and you try to turn away before they can spill onto your cheeks, but you're too late. The tears happen anyway.
But Hongjoong's hand is there in an instant, cupping your cheek while his thumb brushes away the drop. You can't help it, you close your eyes and press into his touch. His hand is warm on your cold skin, and you desperately don't want him to pull away. And he doesn't. He keeps it there, firm and sure. It helps ground you, keeps you steady. Like he always has.
Another tear falls and his thumb is there to take care of that one too. You don't know how long you stand there like that. It could be seconds or minutes or hours, but it doesn't matter. He says nothing, no judgement, no mention of how neither of you should be okay with this.
You don't know how many tears he catches, but eventually they stop coming. You don't step away, not yet. You grant yourself this small moment with him. You allow yourselves to exist here with no thoughts of anything beyond it. Just you. Just Hongjoong. His hand on your cheek, your tears on his fingers.
"I should have called," he whispers, so softly that you aren't even sure if he said it.
You slowly open your eyes to look at him. "Hmm?"
He drops his hand, taking the warmth with him. "Let's get something to eat," he says, louder this time. "I'm famished."
You want to press him to explain what he meant, but you can tell that he would just brush it off. You'll give him a pass this time. It's the least you can do after crying in front of him all of a sudden. "The diner isn't too far of a walk," you offer.
"Sounds perfect."
Almost out of habit, you start to reach for his hand, but he's already walking in the direction of the restaurant. You ball your hand into a fist, regretting the action, and hoping and praying that he didn't notice. He doesn't give any indication that he did, but you know he's observant. You shove your hands into your pockets and follow him, hating everything about him, and nothing at all.
Rosie's Diner is a staple of Hollyleaf. It's one of the oldest buildings in town, and it's where everyone's family celebrates every possible occasion. Countless birthdays and graduations, wedding receptions and even funerals have been held within these walls. The same family has owned and operated the place for decades. And even in the middle of the afternoon, days before Christmas, it's fairly busy inside.
Hongjoong holds the door open for you and silently offers to take your coat. You let him without protest. You feel his hand brush your shoulders, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. Something changed between the two of you during the short walk here. Something fueled by tears and cold. You don't know if you have a name for what it is, but you don't think you mind it.
The both of you are greeted by name by the waitress, she's someone you went to school with. She leaves menus at the table with the promise to bring back waters. You don't bother picking up the menu, you don't need it, you always get the same thing anyway. You know Hongjoong's order by heart too. You don't need to wonder if he remembers yours, you know he does.
"Y/N."
"Hongjoong."
You say each other's names at the same time.
"Go ahead."
"You first."
You both laugh, and you feel your cheeks warm with a blush. It's hard to tell in the dim light of the restaurant, but you think you see some color on his too. He says nothing, but he motions for you to speak.
"Sorry about...outside," you say after a moment. "I didn't mean to-...it just..." Your voice trails off.
"It's okay," he says. "I know it's hard being back here. And...and I know I'm probably making it all the more difficult-"
"The opposite, actually," you cut him off. "I...I haven't been very kind to you, and-"
You're cut off by the waitress setting down waters for you. "Have you decided on what to order?" she asks.
"I have," Hongjoong says. He motions to you, "Y/N?"
You nod to him and then to the server. "I'll have the pumpkin soup," you say. "With extra crackers on the side, please."
"And I'll do the grilled cheese," he says after you. "But fries instead of the tomato soup, if you don't mind."
You smile hearing him place his specific order, and your smile turns into a laugh once the waitress is gone. "Still refuse to order the soup, huh?" you tease him.
"I don't like eating vegetables," he reminds you, though he knows you remember. "I certainly won't drink one from a spoon."
"Soup is different though," you say, settling into your favorite thing to argue with him. "The tomato soup here is good, too. It's creamy."
"Then you can order it next time." His tone is light, refreshing. You both notice his implication that there will be a next time for the two of you here, but neither of you comment on it.
"Maybe I will," you joke back as you for your water because you just realized how thirsty you are.
Hongjoong shakes his head. "But you won't. You're in a committed relationship with your pumpkin soup."
You laugh, the sound coming out effortlessly. "The one true love of my life. Rosie's pumpkin soup."
"I never even stood a chance," he says, laughing too.
You allow yourself to smile at him. Truly smile, with nothing held back. You missed this. Missed the banter. The back and forth that comes so easily with him. And okay, maybe you're ready to admit it finally. You missed him.
And the way he's smiling back at you...maybe...maybe he missed this too. Missed you.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, distracting you for the moment. "It's Paige," you tell Hongjoong. "The tables are being dropped off, and then she should be done. I can let her know to pick us up here."
For a second, it looks like he's about to say something else, but he chooses to say, "Sounds good. Sorry you had to endure the day with me."
You shake your head at his words. "That's-...Hongjoong, I...I actually enjoyed spending the day with you. A lot."
He smiles again, but this time it doesn't fully reach his eyes. "You don't need to lie-"
"I'm not," you insist. "I'm serious."
He brings his hands together on the table and looks out the window. You know he's looking for the right words to say. You give him all the time he needs, knowing he would do the same for you. He opens and closes his mouth several times, second guessing himself every time. Finally, after what feels like forever, he speaks.
"Do you remember what you said to me?" he asks, still looking away.
"I've said lots of things to you." Some kind. Some silly. Some downright cruel.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you don't," he says. "But it..." He shakes his head. "Never mind. It's...forget I asked."
"Hongjoong. Tell me."
"Our food is here," he says. His words are short, curt. All the warmth that has been building in his voice today is gone, drained in an instant.
The soup is set down in front of you, but it could be a million miles away for all the attention you give it. You wait until the server is gone before talking again. "Hongjoong," you say his name with a firm tone. "Talk to me."
He doesn't look at you still. He speaks as if he's talking to his sandwich. "Eat."
You know there's no getting through to him. Not right now. Not at this table. Whatever he was going to say has soiled the mood. You can't even enjoy the soup you love so dearly. It tastes bland, boring. The crackers turn into ashes in your mouth. You manage to swallow a few spoonfuls from the bowl, unable to stomach more than that. Hongjoong eats half of his sandwich, and you don't know if he even touches his fries.
And it's this. This feeling that is all too familiar. This is why you didn't come back last year. This is what you wanted to avoid. And it's not just his fault. It's yours too. You're both just...too much. Too much for this. Too much for this town. Too much for each other.
And so you do what you do best. You run away. You put down $50 on the end of the table. More than enough to cover the cost of both meals and a nice tip for the waitress. You say nothing as you get up. You don't even look back at the table. You put your jacket on, and your scarf, and you go outside to wait for your sister to return with the car.
You don't even feel the cold while you wait. You don't feel anything. It's all numb.
Paige pulls into the parking lot, and Hongjoong must have been watching from inside because he's suddenly next to you. He leaves several feet of space between you, and the message couldn't be more obvious. Keep your distance, and I'll keep mine.
The ride back to your house is completed in silence. You avoid the middle seat, not wanting to meet his eyes in the mirror. It doesn't matter that you have to go without a seat belt. If Hongjoong crashes the car, then so be it. You know you'll have to explain it to your sister when you get home, but for right now, you keep quiet. If you open your mouth, you might really regret whatever words come out. It's better this way, you tell yourself. You and Hongjoong...it didn't work before. It won't work now. That much is obvious.
~~~
You're alone in the living room later that night. Evening has come and gone, nighttime envelops the house. The only light in the room comes from the dying embers in the fireplace and the glow from the tv. The news channel was left on from before your mom went to bed, the day's weather report is being rerun.
"Looks like it'll hit the region during Christmas Eve and into Christmas morning," the weatherman says. "Make sure you're prepared, folks. These early winter blizzards are just as serious as those later in the season."
"Let's just hope Santa Claus and the reindeer make it through the weather okay," the anchor jokes when the camera pans back to him.
Your phone lights up with an incoming message. Just one. And even though the number isn't saved in your phone, you know those digits by heart. Part of you wants to delete the message without even reading it, knowing that whatever he has to say to you could have been said earlier before both of you went and ruined everything all over again. But another part of you, the pieces of your heart that never let him go, that have been crying out to you since you got up from that table...that's the part that makes you open the message.
(11:17PM) UNSAVED NUMBER: I'm sorry for today. And for every day before. I shouldn't have let things end the way they did. And I'm sorry. I wanted what was best for us, but I only focused on my half of things. Not yours. And when you told me not to call you, I took that to heart. I should have called. Even if you said not to, I should have called you everyday until you answered. I'll never forgive myself for that and I don't blame you if you never forgive me either.
(11:17PM) UNSAVED NUMBER: Merry Christmas, Y/N
~~~
Christmas Eve, two years ago
Hongjoong paces his bedroom, his hands alternate between pulling at his hair and shaking in fists at his side. He never been quick to anger, and these feelings, the ones burning through his chest, have been building for weeks now, months. He should have known you were serious about California. You've never been one to joke about things like that, but he thought it was a fantasy. A what if. He didn't think you would fly out the day after Thanksgiving for an interview. Or that you would come back having taken the work contract and signed a lease for a studio apartment in LA.
"What about us?" he had asked you when you told him what you had done. "What about me?"
He'll never forget the look on your face when you said, "What about you? What about me, Joong?"
"Your mom?" he asked. "Your sister, your Grammy? What about them?"
And then, when you said again, "What about me?! What about what I want?"
He had wanted to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you. "California, Y/N? Is that really want you want?"
The answer had been yes. You had made your decision countless times. When you accepted the interview and then the job offer. When you signed the lease and booked that final flight to LAX with no return ticket. You'll be leaving in two days. The day after Christmas. And Hongjoong is terrified you won't look back once you're gone.
He grabs his jacket from the hook on the wall. He has to do this. Even if it means begging you to stay, he can't lose you. He'll be damned if he lets you slip through his fingers.
He almost runs into his mother in the kitchen as she finishes cleaning up dinner. "Hongjoong?" she says when he blows past her. "Where are you going?"
"To see Y/N," he says, not stopping.
"Are you sure that's a good idea. She said-" The door closes behind him before she finishes her sentence. He'll apologize to her later, but right now, he needs to get to you.
He has the drive to your house memorized. He could get there blindfolded, both behind the wheel or on his feet. It's pure muscle memory that gets his mom's van into your driveway behind your dad's old red pickup. The truck being there, and the lights on inside, are almost a guarantee that you're home. If this was any other visit, he would let himself inside with the key he's had since senior year. But with how things have been between you, he makes the decision to knock.
He hears muffled voices behind the door. He picks up on yours instantly, but while he can't make out specific words, he knows you don't sound happy to hear that he's here. Your sister opens the door, and you're nowhere to be seen.
"Hi, Paige," he says to her. "Is Y/N home?"
"You should go," she says.
"Please. I need to talk to her."
"She doesn't want to talk right now." She looks to her side, down the hallway that's draped in darkness. She shakes her head at whoever is there. "You should really go, Hongjoong."
He puts his hand on the door in a poor attempt to keep her from shutting him out. "Paige. Please. Tell her-"
"She wants you to go home."
"Y/N!" he calls out. "I know you can hear me. Please come out. Please. Let's talk this through."
"Go away, Joong!" your voice calls out from around the corner.
"Please. Five minutes. That's all-" He cuts himself off when you set into view. You've always been the most beautiful woman to him. And even now, hair a mess, eyes swollen from weeks of tears, you're stunning. "Y/N," he sighs in relief.
You step past your sister and over the threshold, closing the door behind you. Hongjoong takes a step back to give you space, but then he notices you aren't wearing any shoes. Or pants. Or coat. You're wearing sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt. He immediately starts to shrug off his jacket.
"Stop that," you say. "I won't be out here long."
"Y/N," he says. Your name is all he can say. It's all he can get out.
"Hongjoong."
That catches his attention hard enough to give him whiplash. It's never been Hongjoong with you. Always Joong or Joongie or some other shortened variation of his name.
"I know I said some things-"
"Let me talk," you say. You aren't looking at him, your eyes are fixed on some far-away point. Though you said you wanted to talk, you take a long time to decide what to say. Hongjoong is prepared to wait however long it takes for you to say what you need to, but he's worried about the cold. "I need to do this," you say. "I need to go to California. For myself. I can't stay here. I can't stay in this house, this town, this state. I can't do this." You motion to everything around you. And then you look at him, and the weight of your stare is crushing, ruining. You motion between you and him. "I can't do this."
"Us?"
"I need to go," you say, turning toward the door. Hongjoong catches your arm in an attempt to keep you from going back in, but you pull away quickly. He knows better than to try it again.
"Y/N, let's talk this through-"
"We have!" You turn around to him and yell. "We have talked it through! I told you what I want. I went over everything with you, but you didn't listen one bit! You want what's good for YOU. Not us. Not me. You, Hongjoong."
"Don't run away like this," he says. "Wait a week. Let's get through Christmas. Please. Stay. A little while longer. I'll pay for a new flight."
"Good night, Hongjoong."
"It's Christmas. Don't do this on Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," you say, opening the door. You step inside, and without looking back, you spit out, "Please don't call."
Summary: A collection of stories of how Ateez would spend the holiday season with you.
A/N: Stories will be uploaded periodically throughout December!
❄️ = smut MDNI
Hongjoong: Sleigh Ride - Hongjoong takes you to the Christmas Market in town and ends the date with a special surprise that leaves you speechless.
Seonghwa: Silver Bells - Your yearly tradition of going to the zoo's Christmas light display with Seonghwa is the perfect way to catch up with your perpetually busy boyfriend.
Yunho: Underneath the Tree - It's your first Christmas together with Yunho and of course he wants to go on a cheesy date to pick out a Christmas tree and decorate it with you.
Yeosang: This Christmas ❄️- There is no better way to spend Yeosang's day off than snuggled together watching your favorite holiday movies.
San: It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year - Your favorite part of the holiday season is helping others, so San decides to go with you to volunteer at your local charity that's handing out toys to families.
Mingi: Baby, It's Cold Outside - The first snow of the year has you and Mingi gearing up and heading out to play in the winter wonderland. Sledding, snowmen, and maybe a few snowball fights have you both fully immersed in the Christmas spirit.
Wooyoung: Mistletoe ❄️ - Wooyoung begrudgingly lets you take over his kitchen to make cookies for your workplace's annual Christmas cookie competition. Neither of you were expecting quite this much chaos, however.
Jongho: Step Into Christmas - You agree to a mystery date with your boyfriend, Jongho. All he told you was to be ready at 7 and to dress warm.
Pairing: Seonghwa x Reader (hj cameo)
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: Your yearly tradition of going to the zoo's Christmas light display with Seonghwa is the perfect way to catch up with your perpetually busy boyfriend.
Holidays with ATEEZ masterlist
Matz-rpiece Masterlist
The line to get into your local zoo was long, everybody excited to see the lights that now adorned the park. It was the first weekend of Zoo Lights and it was a yearly tradition for you and Seonghwa to enjoy the sights and holiday cheer together. So here the two of you were, bundled head to toe in your warmest clothes, surrounded by families trying to keep track of their energetic children. You could almost taste the hot chocolate that was waiting for you on the other side of the entrance gates.
As you focused on your plans for the evening a kid zipped past you being chased by their older brother, nearly knocking you off your feet. An arm wrapped around your waist, helping you steady yourself.
"Sorry miss!" the older boy shouted over his shoulder as he ducked his way through the middle of another family.
"It's okay!" you tried calling after them, giggling as the two boys disappear into the crowd. You leaned into your boyfriend's touch, already excited to spend this much time with the busy idol. It had been months since the two of you were able to go on a date, and that wasn't for a lack of trying. Seonghwa was always trying to find time in his hectic schedules for you, but it usually just resulted in phone calls and texts littered with I miss you's. All that to be said, nights like these - when you could finally act like a normal couple - were held close in your hearts.
"Ooh, look! I think the line is moving finally." Seonghwa said, pulling your focus back to the gates. Sure enough, the bundled up masses in front of you began to waddle forward, finally able to make their way into the zoo. Seonghwa's hand slipped from your waist, opting to hold your glove covered fingers instead. He gave a quick squeeze before the two of you made your way into the park.
This was Seonghwa's favorite part of taking you to see the Christmas lights every year. The way your eyes widen and smile grows when you see the first light displays make his heart swell. Your gaze would always be glued to the twinkling bulbs, his glued to your priceless reactions.
"Where are we going first?" he asked even though your answer was the same every year.
"Penguins first!" you replied giddily, yanking him in the direction of your favorite flightless birds. If you wanted to see any of the animals awake you would need to head to them right away during the after hours event. This meant that every year the two of you rushed to the corner of the zoo that held the penguin exhibit.
You slowed down as you approached the building, taking a moment to appreciate the snowflake shaped light displays that adorned the outside of the building. The double doors slid open as you approached, allowing you to see the large panes of glass separating the room from the frozen habitat. It was just your luck that most of the penguins were up and active still.
You pulled Seonghwa behind you, nearly running to the wall of glass. Your eyes darted from penguin to penguin, unable to decide which one to focus on. After a few seconds of adoration, Seonghwa's eyes drifted back to you. Your gloved hands were pressed up against the glass, nose centimeter from them. Your smile, god he would never get sick of your smile. It was bright enough to outshine all the strung up lights combined.
"Look, babe! There he is!"
You were excitedly pointing towards the corner of the exhibit to where a few penguins were huddled together. He knew exactly what bird you were talking about, softly laughing as he observed the shortest penguin in the group.
"I knew Hongjoong would be here!" you laughed.
It was a joke the two of you had made the very first time you came to the zoo. It was early on in your relationship, maybe two months after he had officially asked you to be his girlfriend. A few of his bandmates had tagged along that day wanting to meet the girl Seonghwa wouldn't stop yapping about. The day was perfect, everybody getting along and you getting to spend some much desired time with Seonghwa.
When the group made it to the penguin exhibit you all decided to give the penguins names. Most of them had been long forgotten, but you would always remember Wooyoung declaring that the smallest penguin in the whole habitat would be named Hongjoong. All of you had laughed until tears were in your eyes. Well, all of you except the namesake himself. Hongjoong's pout lasted until you guiltily bought him an ice cream sandwich at the cart down the path.
"Quick send a picture to him." You turned to face Seonghwa, pointing up at the group of penguins while he snapped a few photos. The two of you giggled as he sent it off to Hongjoong, knowing the exact frown that would cross his face upon viewing it.
You turned back to watching the penguins before Hongjoong's crying emoji lit up Seonghwa's phone, back to searching through the enclosure to see if you could find the other named birds. The two you were looking for had been named during the next visit, when it was just you and Seonghwa spending one of his rare days off at the zoo.
"I don't see them," you sighed.
"Wait, come over this way," Seonghwa guided you a few feet to the right exposing a few penguins that had been hidden by one of the large rocks in the habitat.
"That's them!" you gasped, hopping from one foot to the other in excitement. You blindly reached behind you, tugging Seonghwa closer to you until he wrapped his arms around your waist. He bent down slightly and rested his chin on your shoulder, basking in the breathtakingly domestic moment the two of you were sharing.
The penguins you were both gazing lovingly at had been named after the two of you after you had witnessed the taller of the two bring a small rock to the other. Seeing them express the greatest sign of affection the species had left a mark on both of your hearts, causing a small rock emoji to be added to your names in each others phones.
The memory warmed your heart once again, reminding you of how much you loved the man standing behind you. Your relationship hadn't been easy per se, but you wouldn't trade away a second of your time spent being his. Four years and counting now. You had been with him through all the had work and success, as well as the struggles. You were his person. He knew that no matter what happened, you would be right by his side. Supporting, encouraging, loving.
The silence between you two stretched into a comforting blanket that wrapped around your forms. Neither of you had to say a word to understand what the other was thinking. Seonghwa's breath was warm against your cheek as he turned to leave a peck on your soft skin.
"I love you," he whispered. You could hear his smile. He was never able to hold back his affection for you. The other boys would always tease him about his lovesick heart eyes. Never failing to turn his ears a violent shade of red.
"I love you, too." You turned in his arms so that you were now facing each other, your eyes immediately finding his. You leaned in to leave a proper kiss on his lips, savoring the way the two of you melted so perfectly into each other.
"You know how every time we come see our penguins I say that I'm going to find the most beautiful rock to give you?" His fingers nervously twitched against your hips.
"Yeah, I always tell you I'll wait for you to search every corner of the world if I have to," you responded hesitantly, unsure of where he was headed with this.
"Well," he paused, taking another deep breath that sent your heartrate skyrocketing in anticipation. "I think I might have finally found the rock."
Your eyebrows knitted in confusion before rising to your hairline in realization. Seonghwa reached into the pocket of his coat and retrieved a small box before sinking down to one knee. One of your hands sprang up to cover your mouth that now hung open. You weren't sure when you started crying, but your cheeks were now splashed with tears.
"Y/n, I have been so incredibly in love with you since the day we met. There wasn't a second of time I wasn't hoping for this day to finally come. I don't want to spend another second without promising you a forever with each other. So, I wanted to know if you will accept my rock and marry me?" There was a slight tremble to his hands as he opened the box to expose the diamond ring of your dreams.
You were pretty sure you had forgotten how to breathe. Words died in your throat, so you simply nodded. The look on Seonghwa's face was unforgettable. You would've thought you had just gifted him the moon and all of the stars, and in his eyes that is exactly what you had done.
He was quick to peel the glove off of your left hand, sliding the brilliantly shining ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, the image of it sending a fresh wave of tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I love you," Seonghwa repeats, standing back up and taking you into his arms. His lips pressed against yours with a new fervor. This wasn't your boyfriend kissing you. It was your fiancé. The man that one day soon you will get to call your husband. Butterflies were thrashing around violently in your chest at the thought of getting to marry your best friend.
"I love you so much," you whispered against his lips, thankful that you were able to find your voice once again.
You suddenly became acutely aware of the small crowd that had now gathered around you. Their clapping and well wishes for the two of you came into focus as you broke further apart from Seonghwa, still allowing him to hold you in his arms.
"You two are so lucky I don't hold grudges," you heard a familiar voice break through the lingering cheers of congratulations. Your head turned to immediately spot a grumpy Hongjoong holding his phone up to capture the special moment.
"Come on Joong, you know we tease you out of love!" you giggled.
"Yeah, yeah. Now scoot over so I can get a picture of you and your feathered twins together," Hongjoong grumbled, walking towards the two of you to set up the perfect shot.
You turned slightly to face the camera, bringing your new diamond accented hand up to rest across Seonghwa's chest. A few clicks later, the three of you were making your way back towards the rest of the zoo - once again teasing Hongjoong over his uncanny resemblance to the small penguin.
As your stomach began to hurt from laughter, a fresh set of tears threatening to spill over, you are suddenly pulled back by Seonghwa. His grip on your hand tightening, his eyes twinkling. Not just from the endless rows of lights that were being reflected, but because of the love that was radiating from every cell in his body. He looked at you as if you were a priceless treasure that he had finally gotten his hands on.
"Where to next Mrs. Park?" he asked, knowing his choice of words would send his favorite shade of pink across your cheeks.
"I think we might owe our photographer a hot chocolate to make up for the jokes," you answered, only slightly flustered by his use of your soon-to-be surname.
"Alright, I suppose he's earned a treat," Seonghwa chuckled, allowing the man in question to lead the way towards the snack cart.
That's when it hit you - what had actually just happened. You were engaged. The man you had spent years loving just promised to be there with you for the rest of your lives. You would get to grow old with your best friend. Experience the world with him by your side for forever. You never doubted his commitment, but you weren't opposed to this new feeling of comfort that now surrounded you.
Because just like your penguins, gifting a rock meant you were mated for life - and you couldn't be more enchanted by that idea.
