City of love. Full of romance, art and culture. Ideal vacation.
Unfortunately you weren't here for fun. No, you were here to manage South Korea's most insufferable bad boy. Chosen to be the handler of Song Mingi was supposed to be a privilege, given his achievements and popularity.
Privilege it was not.
Three words summed him up; obnoxious, egotistical and wild.
Constant scandals plastered over social media, causing nothing but grief for the stream of managers he'd previously had. He was beyond hard work. It was a miracle he still had a career. Then again, you'd been his manager for a year now and had miraculously cleaned up any potential messes he'd made. Something he loathed. All his former managers had been mousy, barely uttered a word to him. But, you? You were the only one able to tackle him head on and he despised that.
Every chance he got, he did his best to get under your skin. Seeing if there was a breaking point you had, any way that you would crack and he would win. But you never gave him the satisfaction.
--
Paparazzi swarmed the hotel as your limo pulled up outside; security already in position. A small sigh left your lips, energy levels already drained from the flight.
"Is the princess tired?"
Mingi's voice cut through your fatigue, immediately setting off your defences.
"A black eye really wouldn't be good for your image, Mingi."
Subtle warning murmured as you opened the door and stepped out into the horde of adoring fans and eager journalists. Mingi's lips curled into a smirk as he placed his sunglasses on, watching as you slammed the door behind you.
--
"Surely there's been a mistake. There should be two rooms."
There was no way this was happening. No way the company would book yourself and Mingi into one room. They were more than aware of the tumultuous relationship you and their bad boy shared.
"I'm sorry, Miss. It's one room under the name Song Mingi."
Scrunching your nose up in frustration, trying to keep calm as you asked the clerk to check one more time.
"What are the chances it's just one bed too?"
Stiffening at the sound of his voice inches from your ear, you tried to ignore the possibility he had brought to light.
"Then I hope you make the floor comfy."
By now you'd mastered how to keep your voice low enough that no-one else could hear, but loud enough that Mingi knew you were insulting him. Faintest brush of his fingers along your lower waist caused a stir inside of you, his breath now ghosting your ear.
"You know it turns me on when you play hard to get."
Drawing your elbow back, you jabbed him in the chest, not too hard, but enough for him get to the idea. Directing your attention back to the apologetic clerk, you could tell from his expression that there really was only one room. Fuck.
Mingi plucked the key card from the clerk, giving him one of his signature winks before nudging you towards the elevator.
"Come on, princess. Let's find our room."
--
Some days you missed the simplicity of your old life. No early mornings, no late nights. The ability to do whatever you liked and not have to worry about the implications it would cause the reputation of the company. Being a manager meant you were just as much in the spotlight as the models. Which also meant wearing the designer labels and acting the part. For this specific event you were showing off the latest wear from Dolce and Gabbana. Catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror, you touched up your lipstick before facing Mingi.
Decked head to toe in Christian Louboutin, his attention fully on whatever he was posting on social media. For a moment, you stripped away his frustration inducing personality and focused on the fact he was a handsome guy. Ridiculously blonde hair, cheekbones that were so defined it made you jealous, two moles on his face that would make any person's heart flutter.
"Last person who looked at me like that ended up sucking my-"
"Do not finish that sentence if you value your life."
Throwing a hand up, stopping in his tracks.
"I do not need a run down of your sexual encounters, enough of them have been on the internet."
Shaking your head, you plucked the phone from his hands, placing it down on the oak table behind him.
"Please just for once will you behave? You know tonight is an important night. It isn't just your career on the line, it's mine too. And so help me God, if you fuck this up for me..."
Without sounding like you were begging him, you absentmindedly fixed the chain around his neck as you spoke. Mingi arched an eyebrow, his large hands clasping over yours, catching you off guard.
"If I'm a good boy, does that mean I get reward?"
Low whisper rumbled in his chest, lips curving into the too well known smirk of his. Caught in his grasp, aftershave dulling your senses, you faltered for a split second. Then you were hit with reality, snatching your hands from underneath his, your eyes narrowing into a hard stare.
"Stop fucking around."
Mingi tilted his head, blonde strands falling across his forehead as he did so.
"That's twice you've cursed now, not something I'm used to hearing. Say it again."
Constant mind games between the two of you. That's how it worked. But something about this time felt different. Usually there was a lot more distance between you, barely any advances made by Mingi, just the usual flirty taunts. Silence flared around you both as you didn't give into the request, causing Mingi to sigh softly.
"It's okay, you'll say a lot more when I'm fucking you."
Electricity pulsated through the atmosphere, nothing but pure unadulterated shock smacked you straight in the face. Many times Mingi had implied situations, never had he been so direct. Heat instantly smattered itself across your cheeks, the first time you had truly blushed at someone's actions. At Mingi's actions. Your body was ablaze as his eyes never wavered from you. If anything, even behind the dark lenses of his sunglasses, you could see the intense way he was observing you. Fingers skimming your jawline as he tilted your chin upwards, directing your gaze to meet his.
"Don't act so surprised baby. I've made it clear how much I want you. Just like you've made it crystal clear how much you need me."
Obnoxious certainty wove it's way through his tone, thumb tracing circles on your jaw.
"I don't want you."
A reply so pitiful, you, yourself didn't even believe it as the words left your mouth. Mingi peered over the top of his sunglasses, disbelief from your lie visibly rolling off him.
"So you just get yourself off to my photos for what? Sexual research?"
Eyes widening at the accusation Mingi made, nothing but embarrassment snaking its way up your body and suffocating you. This was not happening- he couldn't know- there was no way he could know.
"Don't be shy, I think it's hot. My pretty little manager playing hard to get, but fucks her own fingers while she thinks of me."
Specific lines are not supposed to be crossed with professional relationships. Those lines had been completely muddied.
"We are done here."
"We are done when I say we are done, baby."
Heart was erratic in your chest as Mingi picked up the champagne bottle gifted to him. Popping the cork so effortlessly, pouring the alcohol into the champagne flute before turning back to face you. Whilst he sipped and savoured the taste, you took the opportunity to defend yourself.
"I never wanted to be your manager, I never had the choice. Privileged is what I was told it was. They were wrong. It's punishment."
Despite your best efforts, the statement fell flat, your words harbouring the tiniest fracture of a lie.
"Turns me on seeing you try and convince yourself that you aren't affected by me. Falling apart and I haven't even touched you."
Anger slashed through you at his mocking tone. Bold amusement flowing off him.
"I hate you."
Three words you'd whispered, shouted and sighed at him many times before.
"And yet, you're soaked for me, aren't you?"
Mingi's assumption caused your thighs to involuntarily press together, heat tearing through you, mixed with shame. That was all it took. Tossing his sunglasses behind him, icy gaze pinning you to the spot as he ran a hand through his hair.
Swift and fast, you were tugged into him, caged against his body. First time you'd been enclosed in his grasp, no space left between you both.
"You're going to ride my fingers until my rings are soaked."
Hand encircling your throat, a rush of air leaving your lips as he bunched your dress up with his free hand.
"Then I'm going to taste just how wet I make you, before I fuck the hate out of you."
Not a shred of hesitation left him as his fingers teased along the waistband of your underwear, hand dipping in, an immediate growl leaving him.
"You're so wet. Fuck, I knew you got off on this."
Applying pressure around your throat, his thumb brushed your clit before he pushed two fingers into your heated core. Lips parting, as the pleasure overrode your senses, his rings grazing your clit as he worked his fingers meticulously.
"All that playing hard to get and really you just wanted to be fucked like the insatiable little slut I know you crave to be."
Mingi's words vibrated against your lips as he kissed you. Hungry and rough. Fingers sliding in and out, causing you to let a moan escape. Mingi swallowed your moan, biting your bottom lip as he did so. You could feel your body starting to shake, the sizzling pleasure setting your bones alight.
"That's it baby, you know what you have to do. Soak my rings and I'll fuck you."
Tipped over the edge from his encouragement, your hands desperately clung onto him as your hips bucked against his fingers, coating them. Withdrawing his fingers instantly, inspecting his drenched rings. Eyes flicking to yours, holding your gaze as he sucked both of his fingers clean. Tasting the mess you'd made.
Pulling you forward, still with one hand around your throat, he kissed you roughly again.
"I knew you wouldn't disappoint."
Trying to regain your breath felt impossible, your thighs were slick and you were sensitive more than ever. But you knew this was far from over and the twisted part of you was thrilled.
Releasing your neck, Mingi spun you around to face the lengthways mirror. The reflection of you both stared back at you. You'd never taken notice of the height difference before; you couldn't shake it off now it was right in front of your face.
"I'm going to fuck you in front of this mirror."
It was a fact. Hard, simple fact.
"You're going to scream my name so everyone in this hotel knows I own you professionally, mentally and physically."
Any kind of attempt to speak was squandered. What could you possibly say back to him? His icy blue eyes were penetrating yours in the reflection. Fucking contacts, you hated yourself for suggesting he wear them.
"Words baby. Tell me you understand."
Professionalism had gone out of the window. Not a single remnant of it left. Your heart was in your mouth, the line already crossed- it was a dot now. If you did this, if you gave in and did the unthinkable, it would be game over. No coming back from it. Mingi's hand once again lacing around your throat as he pressed himself into you. A shallow breath left your lungs as you felt the sheer hardness of his cock pushing into your lower back. Lips grazed the shell of your ear as he continued holding your eye contact in the mirror.
"Want to know a secret, jagiya?"
Featherlight whisper, the pet name striking an humiliating rush of emotions to filter through your veins. A pet name only used for those that were deemed special enough to wear it.
"After every meeting we had, every encounter, every time we were in a room together... I would fuck my fist thinking of you. Didn't matter where we were, I'd find somewhere private and envision that pretty mouth sucking my cock."
Pressure increased around your throat, his rings digging into your flesh as his eyes darkened with every word. You were fucked. So beyond fucked. Confession from him, matching your dirty secret. Unsure of how he knew about your shameful skeletons in the cupboard; knowing you'd pleasured yourself to him- it was something you didn't bear thinking about.
"So, use your words and tell me you understand that I'm going to make you mine in every single way."
"I understand."
Two words of confirmation.
"Good girl."
A small purr of approval as his hand slinked away from your throat and he took a step back, once again reaching for the bottle of champagne. Mingi brought the bottle to his lips, taking a deep sip before tapping your lips with a free finger. Instinctively you parted your them, opening your mouth for him. Towering over you, the champagne trickled from his lips, filling your mouth. Intoxicated by the way you obeyed his demand, his gaze glowing with raw hunger.
"Swallow."
And you did. Swallowing the champagne he'd shared with you, not breaking the eye contact as you did so. Satisfaction etched it's way into Mingi's face as he watched.
"So fucking obedient for me, even if you hate it."
Another harsh kiss against your mouth before he placed the bottle down, next move already in motion. Dragging the chair from the corner, he positioned it in front of the mirror, Mingi sat down, manspreading as he nodded for you to stand before him.
"Take the dress off, jagiya."
Mingi toyed with the rings on his fingers, waiting for you to do as you were told.
"Mingi we have to leave soon-"
"The entire industry know I'm always fashionably late. Stop deflecting."
"Mingi."
A warning that fell limp. Leaning forward, hands splayed across his lap.
"Either you take the dress off or I'll rip it off you, your choice."
For a moment, you were tempted to test his theory, but you knew him well enough to know he absolutely would rip the dress from your body. Slowly, you pushed the straps of the dress off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. Heat seeped through your body, fanning the flames that were already roaring inside of you.
As soon as the material hit the floor, Mingi was shrugging out of his designer shirt, revealing his ridiculously toned chest; something you had never even got a slither of a look at. The heavy silver chain laying neatly against his honeyed skin. Looping his arm around your waist, he drew you into him, sliding the shirt over your arms and letting it drape against you.
Finger's trailed down your bare stomach, glidning against your hipbone.
"You should wear my clothes more often."
Unbuckling his belt, freeing his cock with one hand as the other hand interlocked with yours, tugging you towards him as he sat back down. Silently guiding you, turning you to face the mirror, fingers pulling your lace underwear to the side. Anticipation built up inside of you, Mingi steadying you as he lowered you onto his aching cock.
Nothing could have ever prepared you for the way Mingi felt. Hands securing you, moving his hips against you. Uncontrollable moans left your mouth as your head fell back, completely submerged in the bliss he was feeding you.
"Don't look away, jagiya. I told you, eyes on the mirror. Watch us."
Hushed demand breathed against the nape of your neck as he traced wet and hot kisses against your shoulder blades. Fingertips denting your skin as he clung onto you, upping his rhythm, teeth sinking into your shoulder. A cry of pleasure and pain ripped through you, causing your hands to grip his thighs.
"Cry for it, baby."
Rough and harsh, Mingi growled as he lifted his eyes above your shoulder, watching you crumble against him with nothing holding you back. So many of your walls were cracking, your shields smashed to pieces as you allowed Mingi to fuck you like you were his own personal toy.
"Such a beautiful slut for me."
Nothing in his tone implied he was being harsh, if anything it was as if he was praising you. Both of you were caught in a storm of passionate hate fucking. Kiss swollen lips, bruised skin and soaking wet. But, he wasn't done. Before you could reach your high, Mingi slid you off him, immediate emptiness was felt. Not for long though. Turning your around so you were facing him this time, not as gentle as before, he pushed himself back inside of you.
"Look at me."
Half lidded eyes found his gaze, your arms involuntary hooking around his neck as you rocked your hips against him.
"Ruining you was my greatest victory."
This statement ignited some lost defiance in you, last revival of your sanity. Without thinking, you raised your hand, palm connecting with his cheek. Not once did his thrusts stop, if anything your pissed off action caused him to increase his pace. Biting his lower lip, he wrapped his arms around you, pushing you further onto his cock.
"That's it, remember you hate me."
"You're fucking insane-"
"And it gets you wet."
Last of the verbal abuse, you both marred your moans together. Heat engulfing the room as Mingi made good on his promise and fucked every last ribbon of hatred of of you.
"You're leaving here with my cum dripping down your thighs. A reminder that you belong to me."
Muffled words echoed in your mind as you both hit your peak, reaching the high together. Panting against him, you relaxed against his sweat sheened chest, already feeling the shame of what you'd done.
"Ah, ah. None of that, jagiya."
Two fingers brushed your chin, encouraging you to look at him.
"We shouldn't-"
"If I didn't fuck you tonight, it would have been tomorrow. Or it would have been on the flight home. I was going to fuck you, it was just a matter of when."
Unbelievable how self assured he was. Never an ounce of regret in the way he spoke or moved.
"And that was just the beginning."
This caused your eyebrows to pull together in confusion.
"What? Did you think I was going to just fuck you and throw you under the bus?"
Your silence give away your answer.
"Oh, baby. Why would I jeopardise the one thing that makes me feel alive?"
Pad of his thumb ghosted your swollen lips, a tender touch.
"I intend on being your shadow every second of every day, fucking you until you fall in love with me."
this is such a random question but any authors you'd like to recommend (skz specefic) whose works you personally love reading??
and i also love reading your works they're so fun!!
hey!!
ohmygod there are So Many its insane but tysm for asking im gonna make a list hehe <3
1. @feelbokkie - easily number 1, shes the angst queen so tread lightly but also her fake texts are hilarious and shes a mood and a half lol i love bokkie
2. @imagine-a-life-like-this - this woman got me hooked onto fake texts in the first place AND SHE HAS SO MANY like woah !! also check out her wifeys @maeleelee and @mxnsxngie they hv lots of smaus too
3. @leviackermanscleaningbuddy - aka the first person i ever followed on blr, im in love with the skz pack series but i love a lot of the older bts work as well
4. @sunboki - has these really long pretty fics and theyre very unique and i really need to read the recent ones lmao 😅
5. @rachalixie - has lots of fluffy oneshots and tbh i started following for the reactions lol theyre very fun to read
6. @nonranghaes - loads of oneshots and drabbles for not just skz but ofc theyre always amazing
7. @ivyues - their works ARE SO FUCKING BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN
8 @h-dw - yes this is my sister yes this is a shameless plug she hasnt written that much stuff YET yes her work is awesome anyway
now for many smau makers (?)
@charmerchannie @bluejutdae @strayflowersstarsandlove @chlix @imfoive @havenhyunjin @skzgo @strrykais @bunniestial @seungmins52ndhairstrand @bahngarang @sereia4skz @chancloud8 @linoxpudding @quokkisms (i cannot tag them) @animesugas
woah thats a lot but theyre all realllyyyyyyyy great and i love their work and now im realising this is so many people— (ps. a of them have written works too!)
and thank you so much! i hadnt realised making fake texts would be so fun lol, im glad you enjoy them <3
I’m just a girl, thinking about Switch!Mingi. Switch!Mingi who on his Dom days makes you wear a day collar. A lovely little dainty thing that he can admire when he makes you get on your knees and bark for him. Switch!Mingi who on his Subby days begs you to pick out a day collar for him to wear and will look up at you with the biggest most innocent eyes form his knees, waiting for your orders. Switch!Mingi who you can always tell which side you’re getting based on how clingy or how rough he is with you when he gets home. Just, Switch!Mingi. That’s it. That’s the post.
Warnings: mentions of food. Everything else is fluff!
⚠️Minors do NOT interact with this au⚠️
Word Count: 964
Authors’ Note: I was inspired by how tired Mingi was looking at the end of the Japan leg of the tour and how excited he was running to the car at the airport. I just want baby boy to get the love and care he deserves so I decided to make it happen 😌 ALSO! Huge shoutout to my lovely soulmate @imagine-a-life-like-this for making this LOVELY moodboard for this blurb for me, she is an absolute angel! 🥰 She also has some great writing so go check her out if you haven’t already!
You hummed as the smell of the soup you were stirring on the stove hit your nose, smiling to yourself.
The boys were returning from Japan today and you wanted to surprise your boyfriend. You knew he had a low blood pressure issue, but the last couple of shows he had looked more exhausted than usual. You’d even seen a couple of clips circulating online where it looked like he was about to fall asleep during some of their ments during the recent tour stops.
You knew that he always kept his condition in mind and he tried to be careful when he noticed it getting bad. And that the boys were keeping an eye out for him while they were on tour. But it was only natural that you still worried about your boyfriend. So here you were, trying to surprise him when he got home.
Mingi had always loved egg drop soup when he wasn’t feeling his best since he grew up with his mom making it, so you thought it might be nice to lift his spirits. It wouldn’t be the same as his mom’s, but it was the thought that counted and you knew he’d appreciate the thoughtfulness.
As you were finishing up the soup, you heard voices outside the dorm be the door turning, signaling the boys were home.
“I’m so glad to be home” you heard Seonghwa say as he walked in, followed by the sound of shoes being taken off and left at the door.
“Me too. Tour was fun, but I’m glad to be back and be able to rest a little” San said as he walked in, taking his shoes off as well before hearing the door shut. “Wait, what’s that smell?” He commented as he walked further into the dorm.
“Smells like egg drop soup” you heard your boyfriend mumble tiredly as he came around the corner, seeing you in the kitchen, eyes going big. “What are you doing here?” He said, shuffling over and hugging you tightly as he took in your familiar and comforting scent.
You smiled, hugging him back and hearing the sigh of relief that left him as he relaxed in your arms. “I wanted to surprise you. You’ve seemed so tired so I thought you’d like to come home to your favorite soup” you said as you held him. You saw the other two out of the corner of your eye, giving them a small nod and smile in acknowledgment as they waved and headed to their own rooms, undoubtedly tired as well.
Mingi hummed in response as you held him, smiling “That’s so sweet, I really appreciate it” he said softly, exhaustion still evident in his voice.
“It’s no trouble, you deserve it” you smiled, kissing him lightly. “Come on, let’s get you some of this and head to your room so you can get comfortable. Go get changed and I’ll meet you in there with this in a second” you said softly.
You felt him nod before he let go of you and shuffled off to his room. As he went to get changed you poured the soup into two bowls for you both and grabbed his favorite drink before heading to his room.
Mingi was crawling into his bed as you walked in, fresh clothes on and looking happy to be in his own bed. He saw you come in and lifted the covers, reaching for you tightly join him. You giggled to yourself as you set the bowls and drink on his nightstand and crawled in with him. He always got a little clingier than normal when he was tired or not feeling his best and it was honestly the cutest thing.
You felt his arms wrap around you as you leant back against his headboard, his head resting on your chest as he rolled over and clung to you. You smiled, reaching a hand up and running your fingers through his hair repeatedly. He hummed in content at your touch, causing you to chuckle.
“I’m glad you’re here” you heard him mumble quietly against you as you played with his hair.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, I’ll always be here for you and to take care of you” you whispered back with a small smile, kissing the top of his head.
You felt him smile against you as he reached up to grab your free hand, taking it and kissing it before playing with your fingers for a moment.
“Come on, let’s get you some of this soup before you get too tired. We can put on whatever anime you want while we eat” you smiled as you grabbed the remote to the tv.
Mingi nodded, adjusting himself to lay between your legs as he faced the tv, scrolling through the options before putting on Attack on Titan. You smiled, handing him his bowl and drink before grabbing your own bowl, starting to eat as one hand still played with his hair.
He started to eat the soup, humming at the taste as it warmed him. “Thank you for this. Just what I needed” he said as he smiled up at you.
“Any time baby” You smiled, leaning down and kissing him lightly with a hum.
You both finished your soup and you set the bowls to the side, putting your arms around him as you both turned your attention back to the show. As you both watched the show in the dim lighting of his room, he slowly fell asleep in your arms where he had been laying.
The last thought you had before you drifted off to sleep as well was how lucky you were to have him and to be able to care for him on the hard days.
Tag List: @maeleelee @imagine-a-life-like-this @babyboyquokka @acrylishly @cadenonlinelive @hobasimp89 @canigotosleep--plz
Hello hello lovelies!! I promise you I’m working on getting some more silly fake texts for the boys out soon! Unfortunately, work has been completely draining me and by the time I’m home I haven’t had a lot of motivation or brain space for making those, but I should be able to work on those again here soon for you all!!
Hello! Could I request a one shot with yeosang and female reader where they are best friends, super close to the point the boys swear they’re together but they aren’t, and they accidentally kiss. They panic a little because they like each other but didn’t know if the other did and it makes them realize feelings. Maybe leads to some smut. Thank you!! 🥰 -mxnsxngie
Unspoken
Yeosang x Best Friend Reader
Warnings/tags: smut, friends to lovers, drinking, mutual pining, angst, fluff
Your phone buzzed with a notification at 3 AM. Without even checking, you knew who it was.
Yeosang: You awake?
You smiled in the darkness of your bedroom. This had become your routine—late night texts when Yeosang couldn't sleep after practice, or when you were stressed about work.
You: Always for you. Rough day?
Yeosang: Just can't turn my brain off. The usual.
You: Want me to come over? I can bring those honey chips you like.
There was a brief pause before his reply came through.
Yeosang: It's 3 AM. You have work tomorrow.
You: So? When has that ever stopped me?
Twenty minutes later, you were punching in the door code to the ATEEZ dorm, grocery bag in hand. You'd been there so often that Hongjoong had given you the code months ago, joking that you might as well move in since you were practically Yeosang's shadow anyway.
Yeosang was waiting in the dimly lit living room, his hair tousled from running his hands through it—a habit when he was overthinking something. His face softened when he saw you.
"You really didn't have to come," he said quietly, careful not to wake the others.
You plopped down beside him on the couch, pulling out the chips and two banana milk cartons. "That's what best friends are for. Besides, I couldn't sleep either."
This was your safe space—the quiet hours you shared when the rest of the world was asleep. It had been this way since you met Yeosang in high school, years before ATEEZ debuted. Back then, you'd stay up talking about your dreams—his of becoming an idol, yours of working in your current field. You'd supported each other through every step, every setback, every triumph.
"So," you said, poking his side gently, "what's keeping the great Kang Yeosang awake tonight?"
He smiled slightly, accepting the milk you offered. "Just thinking about the new choreography. I can't get this one section right."
"Show me," you encouraged, standing and pulling him up by his hands.
"Now? Everyone's asleep."
"So we'll be quiet. Come on, I know you won't rest until you work it out."
This was familiar territory. In the small space between the coffee table and TV, Yeosang demonstrated the move that was troubling him. You watched attentively, offering suggestions even though you had no dance training. It wasn't about expertise—it was about giving him someone to explain it to, helping him process it out loud.
"Maybe if you shift your weight here instead," you suggested, demonstrating awkwardly.
Yeosang laughed softly at your attempt, the tension leaving his shoulders. "That's definitely not it, but thanks for trying."
"Hey, I'll have you know I'm an excellent bathroom mirror dancer," you protested with mock indignation.
"The best," he agreed, his eyes crinkling with affection. He tried the move again, incorporating a slight adjustment. "That feels better actually."
"See? I'm basically a choreographer now. You can tell your dance instructor I'm available for consultations."
Yeosang shook his head, amused, as you both settled back on the couch. This easy banter was the foundation of your friendship—the ability to be completely yourselves with each other.
"San was asking about you today," Yeosang mentioned casually as you opened the chips.
"Oh? What about?"
"The usual. 'Are you sure there's nothing going on between you two?'" he mimicked San's teasing tone.
You rolled your eyes, settling deeper into the couch beside your best friend. "We're just friends, San. How many times do I have to tell you?" you responded, as if San were actually there.
Yeosang nodded in agreement, though you missed the way his eyes lingered on you a moment too long. "Yeah, stop making it weird," he echoed.
"The members are convinced we're secretly dating," he continued. "Wooyoung even had a theory that we're hiding it because of some company policy."
You snorted. "Right, because we're so good at keeping secrets. Remember when you tried to surprise me for my birthday and ended up telling me three weeks early?"
"That was different," Yeosang defended himself. "You did that thing with your eyes that makes it impossible to lie to you."
"What thing?" you asked innocently, widening your eyes dramatically.
"That thing exactly," he laughed, throwing a small cushion at you.
The ATEEZ members had collectively decided you were secretly dating, despite both your insistences to the contrary. It had been like this for months—ever since you'd become a regular fixture at their dorm, having been Yeosang's friend since before their debut.
What they didn't understand was how deep your friendship ran—how Yeosang had been there when your parent was hospitalized last year, sitting with you in the waiting room for hours without a word; how you'd stayed up all night with him before his debut, calming his nerves and reminding him how far he'd come; how you knew exactly how he took his coffee and he knew precisely which songs would lift your mood on bad days.
If only they knew how your heart raced whenever Yeosang's shoulder brushed against yours, or how you sometimes caught yourself staring at his profile when he wasn't looking. But you'd buried those feelings deep. Your friendship meant everything, and you weren't about to risk it over what you assumed was one-sided attraction.
"I brought something else," you said, reaching into your bag to pull out a small sketchbook. "Look what I found while cleaning yesterday."
Yeosang's eyes lit up with recognition. It was the sketchbook you'd kept during your high school days, filled with doodles, quotes, and notes you'd passed in class.
"I can't believe you still have this," he said, carefully turning the pages.
"Of course I do. It's a historical artifact now. Look—" you pointed to a page where you'd written 'Kang Yeosang, future K-pop star' with little stars around it. "See? I always believed in you."
He looked at you then, something unreadable in his expression. "You've always been there," he said quietly. "Even when no one else was."
The sincerity in his voice made your heart flutter. "And I always will be," you promised. "That's what we do, right? We show up for each other."
A comfortable silence fell between you as you continued flipping through the sketchbook, shoulders touching, the occasional laugh when you found something particularly embarrassing.
"It's late," Yeosang eventually said, glancing at the clock. "You should stay over. The spare room is made up."
This wasn't unusual either. You'd spent countless nights in the dorm's spare room, especially when your hangouts ran late. The members joked it was basically your room now.
"I'll stay," you agreed, stifling a yawn. "But only if you promise to actually sleep instead of overthinking that dance move."
"Deal," he said, getting up to fetch you a clean towel and the spare toothbrush you kept there.
As you followed him down the hallway, Wooyoung's door cracked open. He peeked out, hair sticking up in all directions, and gave you a knowing smirk.
"Just friends, huh?" he whispered theatrically.
"Go back to sleep, Wooyoung," Yeosang sighed.
"I'm heading to the kitchen. Want anything?" Yeosang asked later, his voice pulling you from your thoughts as you settled into the spare room.
"I'll come with you," you replied, ignoring Wooyoung's theatrical whisper of "See? They can't even be apart for five minutes!" as you passed his room again.
In the kitchen, Yeosang leaned against the counter as you rummaged through the fridge for water. The quiet moment between you felt comfortable, as it always did.
"They're never going to stop, are they?" you asked with a small laugh.
Yeosang shook his head, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. You resisted the urge to brush it away. "Probably not. Does it bother you?"
"No," you answered honestly. "I'm used to it by now."
What you didn't say was that sometimes, in moments of weakness, you wished their teasing had some truth to it. You didn't see how Yeosang's fingers tightened around his glass, or the way he swallowed hard before nodding.
"Me too," he said softly, his thoughtful eyes meeting yours for a brief moment before looking away. "It's funny how convinced they are."
Little did either of you know that you were both harboring the same secret—a longing that remained unspoken, a love that felt too precious and too dangerous to confess.
---
The dorm was alive with laughter and music, bottles of soju scattered across the coffee table as the members celebrated the end of their latest comeback promotions. You sat cross-legged on the floor, cheeks warm from the alcohol and the proximity of Yeosang beside you.
"Let's play a game!" Wooyoung announced, his voice carrying over the music.
San clapped his hands. "Truth or dare!"
A chorus of groans and enthusiastic agreements followed. You caught Yeosang's eye, both of you sharing a look of amused resignation. These games always led to chaos with this group.
Several rounds later, the questions and dares had grown increasingly ridiculous. Hongjoong had rapped while standing on his head, Mingi had prank called their manager, and Seonghwa had revealed his most embarrassing training memory.
"Yeosang, truth or dare?" Jongho asked, his powerful voice softened by a slight slur.
"Truth," Yeosang replied cautiously.
Jongho's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Have you ever thought about kissing Y/N?"
The room fell silent. You felt your heart hammering against your ribs as you stared intently at your half-empty glass, afraid to look at Yeosang.
"I—that's not—" Yeosang stammered, his usually composed demeanor cracking.
"Too late! You chose truth!" San singsonged.
Yeosang stood abruptly. "I need some air."
Without thinking, you followed him to the small balcony, closing the door behind you to shut out the whistles and teasing comments from the others.
"Hey," you said softly, leaning against the railing beside him. "Sorry about that. They're just being stupid."
Yeosang stared out at the city lights, his profile illuminated by the soft glow. "It's fine. I'm used to their teasing."
"Still..." you began, turning to face him. The words died in your throat as he turned simultaneously, bringing your faces inches apart.
Time seemed to freeze. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol, the moonlight, or years of suppressed feelings, but neither of you moved away. Instead, as if drawn by an invisible force, you leaned closer until your lips met his.
The kiss was gentle, hesitant, a question neither of you had dared to ask aloud. For a blissful moment, everything felt right—until Yeosang suddenly pulled away, his eyes wide.
"I—I'm sorry," he stammered, panic etched across his features. "That was... that was the alcohol. A mistake. I didn't mean..."
Each word felt like a knife to your heart. You forced a smile, even as you felt something breaking inside you. "Of course," you said, your voice surprisingly steady. "Just the drinks. Don't worry about it."
You stepped back, creating physical distance to match the emotional chasm that had suddenly opened between you. "We should go back inside before they start another round of teasing."
Back in the living room, you sat as far from Yeosang as possible, laughing at jokes you barely heard and avoiding his gaze for the rest of the night. If the others noticed the sudden tension, they didn't mention it.
But inside, your heart was shattering. The one thing you'd feared most had happened—you'd crossed a line, and now your friendship with Yeosang might never be the same.
---
Two weeks had passed since that night, and you hadn't set foot in the ATEEZ dorm. Your phone was filled with unread messages from the members—everyone except Yeosang. His silence spoke volumes.
You'd made excuses—work was busy, you weren't feeling well, you had family obligations—but the truth was, you couldn't bear to face him. The memory of his words echoed in your mind: *"A mistake. I didn't mean..."* How could you go back to being just friends when now you knew exactly what you were missing?
At the dorm, Yeosang wasn't faring any better. He moved through rehearsals like a ghost, his usual quiet thoughtfulness replaced by a distracted melancholy that concerned his members.
"Okay, that's it," Wooyoung declared after Yeosang had missed his cue for the third time during dance practice. He grabbed his friend's arm and dragged him into the hallway, ignoring the curious looks from the others.
"What did you do?" Wooyoung demanded once they were alone, his usual playfulness replaced by genuine concern.
Yeosang blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb. Y/N hasn't been around for weeks. You look like someone stole your favorite hoodie and set it on fire. Something happened, and I want to know what."
For a moment, Yeosang considered deflecting, but the weight of carrying his secret alone had become too much. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, head in his hands.
"We kissed," he admitted quietly. "That night we were all drinking."
Wooyoung's eyes widened. "Finally! But wait—why is that a bad thing? You've been in love with her forever."
Yeosang looked up sharply. "What? How did you—"
"Please," Wooyoung scoffed. "You look at her like she hung the moon. We all know. So what's the problem?"
"I panicked," Yeosang confessed, shame coloring his voice. "I told her it was a mistake, that it was just the alcohol. I was scared, Wooyoung. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if I ruined our friendship?"
Understanding dawned on Wooyoung's face. "So instead you rejected her and now she's avoiding us all. Brilliant move."
"I know," Yeosang groaned. "But what was I supposed to do? I've been in love with her for years, and I was afraid to lose her."
"And how's that working out for you?" Wooyoung asked pointedly. "Seems like you've lost her anyway."
The truth of those words hit Yeosang like a physical blow. He had been so afraid of rejection that he'd ended up pushing away the person he cared about most.
"I've been such an idiot," he whispered.
Wooyoung nodded sagely. "Yes, you have. But luckily for you, I'm an expert in grand romantic gestures." He pulled Yeosang to his feet. "Go to her. Tell her how you feel—the truth this time. Before it's too late."
For the first time in weeks, hope flickered in Yeosang's heart.
The knocking at your apartment door came just after 9 PM. You weren't expecting anyone, and for a moment you considered ignoring it. You were in no mood for company, dressed in your oldest sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, hair piled messily on top of your head.
But the knocking persisted, growing more urgent. With a sigh, you padded to the door and peered through the peephole.
Your heart skipped a beat. Yeosang.
For a moment, you considered pretending you weren't home, but you knew you couldn't avoid him forever. With trembling fingers, you unlocked the door and pulled it open.
He stood there, slightly out of breath as if he'd run all the way to your apartment. His hair was tousled, his eyes intense in a way you'd rarely seen.
"Yeosang," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you—"
You didn't get to finish your question. In two steps, he closed the distance between you, his hands gently cradling your face as his lips found yours. Unlike the hesitant kiss you'd shared before, this one was certain, deliberate, filled with an urgency that took your breath away.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched yours. "That wasn't a mistake," he said firmly. "And I'm completely sober."
You stared at him, afraid to believe what was happening. "But you said—"
"I lied," he interrupted. "I was scared. I've been in love with you for years, Y/N. Years. I thought you only saw me as a friend, and I was terrified of ruining what we had." His thumb brushed over your cheek. "But these past weeks without you have been unbearable. I'd rather risk everything than spend another day pretending I don't love you."
Tears welled in your eyes as the words you'd longed to hear finally reached your ears. "I love you too," you confessed, your voice breaking. "I always have."
Relief and joy washed over Yeosang's face. He kissed you again, deeper this time, backing you into your apartment and kicking the door closed behind him. His hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.
"I've imagined this so many times," he murmured against your lips. "Being with you, telling you how I feel."
Your fingers tangled in his hair. "Show me," you whispered.
That was all the invitation he needed. His kisses grew more intense, trailing from your lips to your jaw, then down the column of your throat. Your hands slipped under his shirt, exploring the warm skin beneath, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.
His shoes and jacket were discarded as you made your way to your bedroom, neither of you willing to break contact for more than a moment. In the soft glow of your bedside lamp, Yeosang looked at you with such adoration that it made your heart ache.
"You're so beautiful," he said softly, his usual quiet demeanor giving way to passionate conviction. "I've dreamed of this moment."
"No more dreaming," you replied, pulling him down to you. "This is real."
Yeosang's confession still hung in the air, vibrating with hope and panic.
For a heartbeat, neither of you moved. The space between you was small, but it crackled with things unsaid—the years of laughter, quiet companionship, late-night confessions, longing glances, words hidden behind "just friends." All of it condensed into this one breathless moment.
Yeosang lifted a shaking hand, brushing a flyaway strand of hair from your cheek, thumb lingering on your skin as if memorizing the shape of you. His touch was hesitant, reverent, and you turned your head into it, letting your lips ghost against the pad of his thumb. You felt, more than heard, his inhale.
"Can I…?" he whispered, voice rough, as if afraid to finish the sentence.
You nodded, almost imperceptibly, your answer coming out as a trembling sigh.
The first kiss was more an exhale than a meeting of lips—a tentative press, careful and soft, as if he was certain you'd vanish if he pushed too far. It was slow, so painfully slow, all gentle coaxing and exploration. Your hands found his shoulders for balance, fingers clutching fabric as if you needed the anchor, needed him to ground you to this new, impossible present.
His other hand slipped to your waist, warm through the thin cotton of your shirt. His thumb traced delicate circles just above your hip, hesitant yet possessive, and the gentleness of it made tears sting your eyes. When his mouth slanted across yours a second time, you both melted into the kiss—soft, searching, tasting what you'd both denied yourselves for so long.
Yeosang made a quiet, needy sound as your lips parted for him. Your tongues met in a slow dance, less about lust and more about revelation. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breath mingling, letting his eyes flutter shut as if he was savoring the moment, tucking it away to keep forever.
"You're so beautiful," he breathed, careful, awestruck, like he was saying it for the very first time—even though you'd always seen it in his eyes.
You reached for the hem of his shirt, looking up for permission. The way he nodded—swallowing hard, gaze never leaving yours—made something fragile inside you come undone. You pulled the shirt up and over his head, your hands skating over the planes of his chest—a place you'd known in comfort for years, but never allowed to discover like this.
Yeosang was warmth and muscle and nerves, skin prickling beneath your fingers. A faint scar at his ribs caught your attention; you traced it gently, looking at him in silent question.
"Training accident," he murmured, smiling wryly, "back before we debuted. You remember?"
You nodded, recalling the night you'd bandaged him in your college bathroom, your hands trembling as you tried not to let your fears show. Now your hands shook for an entirely different reason.
He gently tugged your shirt upward in return, giving you time to change your mind. You lifted your arms, baring yourself under his gaze, heart racing as his eyes swept over you—awed, hungry, yet still reverent. He pressed feather-light kisses to your shoulder, the hollow of your throat, the space just above your heart, as if paying tribute to every inch.
His hands found your waist again, and you gasped as he guided you toward the bed, never breaking eye contact. There was nothing hurried—every movement was deliberate, filled with years of longing finally spilling over. When you lay back, he followed, settling beside you rather than atop, propping himself on one elbow so he could still see your face.
You studied him in the warm light—his flushed cheeks, the way his lashes fanned against his cheekbones, the way his hair kept falling across his eyes. You reached up and finally—finally—swept it back, letting your fingers tangle in the dark silk.
His breath stuttered. He leaned in to kiss you again, deeper now, lazy and exploratory. His palm flattened over your stomach, sliding up your ribcage, the roughness of his touch contrasting with the soft slide of skin on skin.
He murmured your name between kisses, worshiping every reaction—a gasp here, a shiver there. He traced patterns along your torso with careful, unhurried hands, learning you by touch as if memorizing a favorite song. When his thumb brushed the edge of your bra, he paused, lifting his eyes, waiting for your go-ahead.
You arched your chest upward—a silent invitation. He smiled, breathless, and hooked his fingers under the band, easing it away with gentle insistence, his lips following the path to kiss the bare skin he uncovered.
You sighed, hands weaving into his hair as he lavished slow, reverent attention; he nuzzled and kissed each sensitive peak, his tongue tracing light circles until you shivered. His name slipped from your lips, barely a whisper, and he moaned at the sound, growing bolder as the line between friendship and something softer, deeper, inevitable, blurred then snapped altogether.
He kissed his way back up your body, settling over you. "Tell me if anything's not okay," he whispered, voice hoarse with need but sweet and careful as ever.
You pulled him in, fitting your mouth to his, pouring years of longing and loneliness and hope into a single, searing kiss. He pressed himself to you, skin to skin, and you both trembled with the enormity of what was finally, finally happening.
Clothes were eased away with patience and awe, hands and lips and whispered reminders: "You're perfect," "I love you," "I've wanted this for so long.”
Yeosang’s kisses grew hungrier as you drew him down to you, the taste of his lips becoming addictive, each press deeper and more desperate than the last. His shyness fell away under your hands—each caress and sigh fanning a fire you’d both kept banked for too long.
He trailed kisses down your neck, teeth scraping lightly over your skin and drawing soft, startled gasps that he swallowed eagerly. His breath was warm, lips gentle at first but quickly growing demanding as he mapped your body with his mouth—the hollow of your throat, your sensitive collarbone, the rapid pulse beneath your skin. Your hands roamed his back, feeling every muscle tense and ripple under your touch, each reaction proving how deeply he felt this.
Your bodies pressed closer, too close for shyness, not nearly close enough for the want threatening to undo you both. Yeosang slipped his hands over your bare waist, sliding lower, fingers digging into your hips with a need you hadn’t seen in him before. “I never thought I could want anything this much,” he whispered, voice rough.
You arched beneath him, emboldened by every tremor you could coax from his body. “I want you, Yeosang. I want all of you.” The words fell from your lips with abandon; you wanted him to know, to never doubt what he meant to you again.
He groaned—an honest, needy sound that settled low in your belly—and pressed himself to you, completely bare, letting you feel every inch of him, the hard proof of his longing flush against your skin. You opened your legs, inviting him between, and he settled in the cradle of your thighs, grinding slowly, unhurriedly, making you both shudder.
Your hands fumbled, greedy and reverent, over his chest—feeling how his heart thumped furiously, tracing down his stomach to grip his hips and pull him even closer. He hissed, pleasure and disbelief blurring in his voice. “You drive me crazy,” he gasped. “Tell me if you want me to stop. Please—”
You shook your head. “Don’t stop. Please, Yeosang.”
He kissed you again, slower but deeper, one hand slipping between your bodies to touch you—gentle at first, then firmer as he discovered exactly how you liked to be touched. His finger slid through your wetness, circling, teasing, learning what made you gasp and moan. He watched your face, drinking in every reaction. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, breath trembling. “So beautiful—I could stay here forever.”
You couldn’t bear to wait. You pressed your hips against him, curling your fingers around his wrist, silently urging more. “Yeosang, I need you,” you pleaded. “I can’t wait any longer.”
He lined himself up, touching your cheek for one heartbeat longer, his gaze asking, Are you sure? When you nodded, he pressed forward, filling you slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. The stretch was exquisite—both familiar and completely new, an ache and a relief all at once. You gasped, clinging to him as he pressed in fully, groaning at the sensation of being joined at last.
He stilled, forehead pressed to yours as he breathed through it, giving you time to adjust, his hands shaking where they gripped your hips. “You feel…god, you feel incredible.”
“Move,” you begged, barely coherent. “Don’t hold back.”
He did—rolling his hips, withdrawing and thrusting slowly, then faster as your bodies found a rhythm that sent molten pleasure streaking through you both. His control frayed quickly in the heat of your body and the intensity of your gaze. He thrust harder, deeper, his hand sliding under your thigh to hitch your leg higher, changing the angle and making you cry out his name.
Your head fell back against the pillow; he kissed down your neck, nipping, soothing with his tongue, marking you as his. Your nails sank into his back, holding him close, feeling the tension building between you, the feeling that you could fly apart at any moment if you didn’t hold on.
He fucked you with a reverence that bordered on worship, but his voice was guttered now, every word raw with want. “God, you’re mine—say you’re mine. Let me hear you.”
You met his hips on every thrust, letting go of any shyness, letting him see all the need and love in your eyes. “I’m yours, Yeosang. I’ve always been yours.”
He kissed you hard then, devouring, as his rhythm grew frantic, chasing both your pleasures. The bed creaked beneath you, sheets twisted in your fists as you came, the pleasure cresting and breaking you apart with his name on your lips. He groaned, coming moments later, deeper than before, clutching you like a lifeline as his body shook against yours.
You stayed tangled in each other afterward, damp skin pressed together, hearts pounding in tandem. Yeosang tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your lips, your jaw, your eyelids, murmuring your name between soft, stunned laughs.
As you lay in his arms, Yeosang traced patterns on your bare shoulder. "I should thank Wooyoung," he mused.
You raised an eyebrow. "For what?"
"For knocking some sense into me." He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "He told me I was being an idiot, and he was right."
You laughed softly. "Remind me to thank him too."
"The others are going to be insufferable," Yeosang groaned. "They'll never let us hear the end of this."
"Let them tease," you said, nestling closer to him. "They were right all along."
Yeosang's arms tightened around you. "Worth it," he whispered. "You're worth everything."
As sleep began to claim you both, one last thought drifted through your mind: sometimes the greatest risk isn't taking a chance on love—it's never taking that chance at all. Thankfully, you and Yeosang had finally found the courage to cross that line from friendship to something far more beautiful.
In the morning, you would face the world—and the inevitable teasing from seven other K-pop idols—together. But for now, wrapped in each other's arms, you were exactly where you both belonged.
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