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currently ~ this night together (omegaverse yungi x reader)
please don't message and ask when the next chapter of a work is coming or when i will post book 2 of aurora. as soon as things are ready, i post them otherwise they are being worked on. i do not abandon works, i'm just slow ♡
summary: after he left you, you never heard from ji-yong again. or, that was the case, until you finally saw him again at a fashion show---where the walls you had spent so long building up around your heart finally crumbled down.
word count: 5062
tags: angst to fluff; exes to lovers, arguments, dramatic asf, you have a slight panic attack so please click off if you feel it's too much, hurt/comfort
ao3 link -- smau bonus
The air inside the Chanel afterparty was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and fine champagne, a blur of murmured conversations and polite laughter. Paris had a way of making everything feel ethereal—timeless—but the moment you locked eyes with Kwon Ji-yong, time felt like it had stopped altogether.
He stood near the bar, one hand lazily wrapped around a crystal glass, the other tucked effortlessly into his pocket. Even in a room full of icons draped in couture, he stood out. Always had. And yet, it wasn’t the sharp lines of his suit or the effortless way he carried himself that held your attention. It was his eyes. Dark, searching, and unreadable. They traced over you like a memory long buried, one he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to unearth.
Your chest tightened. You should’ve known he’d be here. Fashion and Ji-yong went hand in hand—just like you and him once did. Still, nothing could’ve prepared you for the way seeing him again would make your pulse stutter, for the way his presence still felt like a song you hadn’t heard in years but somehow still knew the lyrics to.
He didn’t look away. Neither did you. So, you did the only thing you could—you closed the distance.
Ji-yong watched as you approached, his lips curving slightly—not quite a smile, not quite a smirk. "Didn’t think I’d see you here," he murmured, voice smooth as ever.
"Paris is big enough for the both of us," you replied, tone casual, though your heartbeat told a different story.
"Is it?" He tilted his head slightly, studying you. "Funny. I feel like I see you everywhere."
"Sounds like a personal problem."
You refused to be the first to break. A quiet pause. He probably didn’t mean it literally, but the weight of his words settled between you. Did he mean in headlines? In music? In memories?
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he took a sip of his drink. "Still quick with the comebacks, I see."
You shrugged. "Some things never change."
His expression flickered—just for a second. Barely noticeable, but you caught it. A shadow of something deeper, something raw. "Some things do," he said quietly.
That—that was the first real crack in his composure.
Your chest tightened, but you forced yourself to keep your expression unreadable. "Well," you exhaled, glancing around, "it’s good to see you’re still doing well."
"Are you?" His voice was softer now, but there was an edge to it—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer.
"Of course," you answered, maybe too quickly. Too smoothly. Because what else were you supposed to say? That seeing him still made your heart ache? That Paris, no matter how romantic, still felt empty without him?
Ji-yong hummed, swirling the liquid in his glass. "Good." But he didn’t sound convinced.
You should’ve walked away. Should’ve let the moment pass, let him become just another face in the crowd, another ghost of your past that didn’t deserve to be resurrected. That would’ve been the smart thing to do—the safe thing. Just two people who used to know each other, exchanging polite words in a city meant for strangers and lovers alike. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Ji-yong had never been just someone you used to know. He had been your beginning and your ending, the song that played in the quiet corners of your mind long after the music had stopped. And now, standing in front of him again, feeling the weight of his gaze, hearing the softness in his voice that made old wounds ache—you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to pretend he was just another person in the room.
"Did you ever miss me?"
His voice—so much quieter, so much heavier—cut through the space between you.
"Did you?" You shot back immediately.
Ji-yong didn’t answer right away. He just stared, gaze unreadable, jaw tightening slightly like he was debating whether or not to tell the truth. Finally, he exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You always did know how to turn things around on me."
You smirked, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. "Guess some things really don’t change after all."
A flicker of something crossed his face—something almost nostalgic. Almost sad.
Before either of you could say anything else, someone called his name. His momentary distraction gave you the chance to take a step back, breathe, and remind yourself that you weren’t that person anymore—the one who used to fall so easily into his orbit.
His gaze flickered back to yours, as if considering whether to pull you back in or let you go. And then, with one last lingering look, he gave you a slow, almost reluctant nod.
"Enjoy your night," he murmured before turning away.
Ji-yong didn’t look back as he disappeared into the crowd, but he felt you lingering—like a song stuck in his head, like the one thing he thought he’d buried but never really could. His grip on his drink tightened, his pulse a little too quick, his thoughts a little too loud. He had spent so long convincing himself that time had dulled the edges of what you once were, that he had moved past the ache of losing you. But seeing you tonight? Hearing your voice, sharp as ever, watching the way your lips curled into that familiar smirk—it unraveled something in him. You still got under his skin. And maybe the worst part? Some small, stupid, hopeless part of him wanted to believe that he still got under yours, too.
The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of Paris beneath it—the soft wail of a saxophone from a street musician, the muffled laughter of strangers, the city breathing all around you. The elegant wrap draped over your shoulders did little against the chill, but you weren’t sure if it was the cold or the lingering weight of Ji-yong’s presence that sent a shiver through you. The party inside carried on without you—glasses clinking, laughter rising and falling, conversations blending into a meaningless hum. But out here, on the secluded balcony overlooking the city skyline, everything was still.
The cigarette between your fingers burned slowly, thin wisps of smoke curling into the night air. You took a slow drag, letting the warmth settle in your lungs, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. You exhaled, watching the smoke dissolve into the sky, your thoughts spiraling. You shouldn’t have come tonight. You knew there was a chance he’d be here. A part of you had even tried to prepare for it—but how do you prepare for seeing someone who once made you feel like your entire world revolved around them?
"You never used to smoke."
Ji-yong.
Your fingers twitched around the cigarette. You turned your head slightly, just enough to see him standing there, hands in his pockets, watching you with an unreadable expression.
“Not everything stays the same, y’know.” You mutter before taking another slow drag.
His gaze flickered, his jaw tightening for a fraction of a second before he stepped forward, resting his forearms against the railing beside you. Close, but not close enough. He let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. "Didn’t think I’d ever see the day."
You arched a brow, finally looking at him fully. "What, me smoking?"
He tilted his head, studying you the way he always used to—like he was peeling back layers, searching for something just beneath the surface. "You hated it. You used to steal my cigarettes just to throw them away."
You exhaled a humorless chuckle. "Maybe I just wanted to piss you off."
"Is that what this is, then? Still trying to piss me off?"
"Not everything is about you, Ji-yong."
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached over—slow, deliberate—and plucked the cigarette from your hand. You let him. He studied it for a second, rolling it between his fingers like he was trying to understand something unspoken. Then, just as slowly, he lifted it to his lips, taking a drag. Your stomach twisted. The sight was familiar and foreign all at once.
He exhaled, watching the smoke curl into the night, before finally speaking—softer this time.
"You used to say my name differently," he said quietly, tapping the ash off his cigarette.
Your breath hitched. "Don’t do that."
"Do what?"
"Talk like—like we’re still the same people we were back then."
A humorless chuckle escaped him, low and bitter. "We’re not. That’s the problem, isn’t it?"
You didn’t answer. Because he wasn’t wrong.
He took another slow drag, his shoulders rising and falling with the inhale before he turned to fully face you. "You never answered me earlier," he murmured.
"About what?"
"If you ever missed me."
Your stomach twisted. He said it so simply, like it wasn’t the very question that had kept you up on too many nights, staring at the ceiling, wondering if he had ever done the same.
You wanted to lie. You wanted to tell him no. That you had moved on, that the years apart had erased him, that the sight of him standing in front of you now didn’t make old scars ache.
But your silence said more than words ever could.
Ji-yong’s lips pressed together as he studied your expression, as if searching for something—an answer, a confession, proof that he wasn’t the only one who had spent all this time wondering what if.
And then, barely above a whisper, he spoke.
"I missed you."
It shouldn’t have mattered—it shouldn’t have felt like a punch to the chest, like something raw and aching unraveling inside of you. But it did. You tore your gaze away, focusing on the city lights in the distance, anywhere but him.
"Don’t do that, Ji-yong." You repeated.
His brow furrowed. "Do what?"
"Say things like that," you muttered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. "Like it changes anything."
"You think it doesn’t?"
It was your turn to huff out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "It’s been years."
"And?" His voice had an edge now, something frustrated, something almost desperate.
"And we ruined each other," you shot back, finally meeting his gaze again.
Ji-yong flinched, just barely—but you caught it.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was deafening, stretched tight between you like a thread on the verge of snapping. The air felt heavier out here, thick with the past, with every unspoken word, every unsent message, every lingering memory that neither of you had truly let go of. It was in the way Ji-yong’s gaze flickered, searching your face for something—a sign that you still felt it too, that he wasn’t alone in this quiet ache. It was in the way your fingers curled against the railing, gripping it as if it could steady you against the pull of him. So much had been left unsaid between you, but standing here, so close yet so impossibly far, you realized something terrifying. Maybe the past had never really let go of either of you.
"You really believe that?" he asked quietly.
Your fingers curled into your palms. "I have to."
Ji-yong inhaled slowly, like he was trying to keep himself together. Then, before you could react, he took a step closer. Too close. Close enough that you could smell his cologne, something familiar, something that shouldn’t still feel like home. Close enough that the warmth of his body seeped into yours, despite the cold air.
"Then tell me to walk away.”
Your pulse jumped. "What?"
"If you really believe that—if you really think we ruined each other—" he tilted his head, voice low, challenging, "then tell me to walk away."
You opened your mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.
He searched your face, something vulnerable breaking through his mask. "See?" His voice softened, barely more than a breath. "You can’t."
"That doesn’t mean—"
"It means everything," he interrupted, his fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. "We don’t end like this."
Your throat felt tight, emotions clawing their way up. "Ji-yong—"
He leaned in just a fraction more, voice barely above a whisper.
"Say it," he murmured. "Say you don’t miss me, and I’ll leave. Right now."
Your heart pounded. Because he was calling your bluff. Because you couldn’t say it. Because, no matter how much time had passed, no matter how much had broken between you—he was still the one person who could undo you completely.
And he knew it.
"You think this is fair?" You shot back, voice sharper than you intended. “Showing up after all this time like it means something. Like you didn’t—" You stopped yourself just in time, but it was too late. He caught it.
His jaw clenched. "Like I didn’t what?"
You swallowed, pulse hammering against your ribs. Walk away? Give up? Break me? The words were right there, but you couldn’t say them, because then he’d know. Then he’d see just how much of you was still tangled up in him.
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. "I’m not playing games, if that’s what you think."
"That’s funny, coming from you."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means this is what you do," you snapped. "You disappear. You come back when it’s convenient. You say just enough to make me wonder, just enough to make me—" You cut yourself off, breath shaking.
Ji-yong took a step closer. "Make you what?"
You clenched your jaw. "I don’t owe you an answer."
His expression flickered, something breaking through his mask for just a second before his voice dropped lower, rougher. "And who do you think lost?"
You huffed a bitter laugh, voice rising. "I don’t know, Ji-yong! You tell me! Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell wasn’t you."
His eyes flashed. "You think I walked away easily?" His voice was sharp, almost disbelieving. "You think I just—what? Moved on? Forgot about you?" He let out a humorless laugh. "You have no fucking idea."
"Then why did you?"
"Why did I what?"
"Leave!"
Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. The word rang out between you, cutting through the tension like a blade. Ji-yong’s breath hitched, his entire body going still.
"You think I wanted to?" He finally said, voice low, hoarse.
You scoffed. "I don’t know what you wanted!" You were almost yelling now, hands shaking. "Because if you wanted me, you should have fucking stayed!"
"You think I didn’t try?"
"You didn’t try hard enough!"
The words came out louder than you intended, your chest heaving with the weight of them. And for the first time tonight, Ji-yong flinched. The silence that followed was suffocating. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted to reach for you, like he had to physically stop himself. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter but no less intense. "I still love you."
Your breath caught.
Ji-yong swallowed hard, his gaze burning into yours. "Not past tense. Not something I got over. I still fucking love you, and I think you know that."
Your fingers curled into fists, nails digging into your palms. "I—"
He took another step forward, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him, close enough that your body betrayed you, leaning ever so slightly in his direction. "Tell me to stop," he murmured. "Tell me to let you go, and I will."
Your chest rose and fell rapidly. You should say it. You should end this now before you drowned in him all over again. But the words wouldn’t come, and he saw it. His lips parted slightly, his hands twitching at his sides, like he was holding himself back from touching you. And then—
"I can’t do this," you whispered, stepping back.
"Why?"
"Because," you breathed, voice breaking now. "Because if I let myself believe you, if I let myself want this again—" You exhaled shakily, blinking up at him, heart on the verge of breaking all over again. "I don’t think I’d survive losing you twice."
Ji-yong’s expression crumbled. His mouth opened, but for the first time tonight, he had nothing to say. And neither did you. The silence between you wasn’t thick with anger anymore: it was replaced with heartbreak.
"That’s all you’re going to say?"
"What else do you want from me!?"
"I want you to tell me the truth," he shot back. "I want you to stop acting like you don’t feel this."
"Feel what?" Your voice was sharp, a desperate edge creeping into your tone. "Whatever this was, it ended. You made sure of that."
His jaw tensed. "You think I had a choice?"
"You always had a choice!" You snapped, stepping forward, your anger swallowing the hurt. "You could have fought for me, for us. But you didn’t. You left, and you—" Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to keep going, keep pressing where it hurt. "You let me think I wasn’t enough for you."
Ji-yong's eyes flashed with something unreadable, something raw. "That’s not fair."
You let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, and what part of this is fair?"
He clenched his fists, exhaling sharply. "You think I wanted to leave? You think I just walked away without looking back?" His voice was rising now, matching yours, the heat between you bordering on explosive. "You have no idea how much I wanted to stay. How many nights I lay awake wishing things were different. Wishing I could be selfish enough to keep you—"
"Then why wasn’t I worth it?"
The words came out before you could stop them, loud and broken, filling the space between you like a gunshot.
Ji-yong inhaled sharply yet again, as if the weight of your words had knocked the air from his lungs. His mouth opened, then closed, his expression crumbling for a split second before he masked it again.
"Don’t," he murmured, his voice hoarse. "Don’t say that."
You let out a shaky breath, your throat burning. "Tell me I’m wrong, then. Tell me that when you left, it wasn’t because you decided I wasn’t worth the effort."
He stepped even closer, his voice low and urgent. "I never stopped loving you."
"Then why did you break my heart?"
The question shattered between you, both of you breathing hard, chests rising and falling as the weight of everything you’d buried finally cracked open.
"I don’t know," he admitted, his voice almost desperate. "I don’t fucking know. All I know is that being without you felt like hell."
Your breath stuttered, the world tilting beneath your feet, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a tidal wave. Too much. Too much. Too much. It clawed at your chest, curling tight around your ribs, making it impossible to breathe, impossible to think. This was dangerous. He was dangerous. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the room that mattered. The way his voice softened when he said your name, like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers all over again. The way your body still knew him, still ached for him, even after all this time.
And it terrified you.
Because if you stayed, if you let him keep talking, keep looking at you like that, keep picking apart the walls you spent so long building—you knew you’d crumble. You’d let him in again. You’d let yourself hope. And hope was the most dangerous thing of all.
Your hands curled into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms, grounding yourself in the sharp sting of it. You had to get out of here. Now. Before your heart could trick you into believing this could end any differently than it did before. Before you drowned in him all over again.
You took a shaky step back. Ji-yong’s eyes tracked the movement instantly, his entire body tensing like he knew exactly what you were about to do.
"Don’t," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but it might as well have been a plea.
Your throat burned. Don’t what? Run? Leave? Break his heart the way he broke yours?
"I can’t do this," you breathed, shaking your head as you took another step back. Then another.
Ji-yong moved instinctively, reaching for you, his fingers just barely brushing your wrist before you yanked away.
"Wait—"
But you were already turning, pushing past him, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you shoved open the balcony door and disappeared into the dimly lit hallway. You didn’t stop. Didn’t let yourself look back, didn’t let yourself hear the way his breath hitched when you slipped through his fingers.
You wove through the crowd in the main room, your pulse pounding in your ears, drowning out the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. The air inside was suffocating, thick with perfume and cigarette smoke and everything you needed to escape. You barely registered the curious glances thrown your way as you reached the entrance, shoving the door open and stepping into the cool night air. Only then did you finally exhale, your breath shaky as it left your lips in a sharp rush.
But it wasn’t enough.
The city lights blurred as you stumbled forward, needing distance, needing space, needing to outrun the ghosts of his words—I never stopped loving you.
You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to breathe, to push him out of your head, out of your heart, out of your bones.
But even as you walked away, every step putting more distance between you and the only man you’d ever truly loved—you knew it wasn’t over.
Not yet.
You pushed yourself harder, each step taking you farther away from the noise of the venue, from him. The streets blurred around you as you walked, each step fueled by the need to get away, the need to breathe air that wasn’t saturated with him. You didn’t want to be there anymore.
Eventually, you found a quiet alley, tucked away between two tall buildings, far enough from the crowd to feel safe, but not too far that you’d lose yourself completely. You sank down to the cold concrete, pulling your knees to your chest, desperately trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. You tried to force your breathing into something steady, something normal. You were fine. You had to be fine.
You were fine.
But then the panic started to creep in. That tightening feeling in your chest, the same feeling that had gripped you all those months ago. The fear, the helplessness, the suffocating weight of the past, of the break-up, of everything you hadn’t been able to say or let go of. The walls you’d built around yourself trembled. You weren’t fine.
The panic slammed into you full-force, and for a second, it felt like you were falling apart all over again.
This was dangerous.
Just like before. Just like the night he left.
You gasped for air, but it wasn’t enough. Your chest constricted, your vision blurred, and you swore you could hear your pulse pounding in your ears. You weren’t going to make it. You weren’t going to survive this. You needed to breathe, you needed to stop thinking about how close you were to that awful, broken place you’d sworn you’d never return to.
And then, you heard it—footsteps.
No.
You jerked your head up, eyes wide with panic, just in time to see him standing there—Ji-yong, standing in the dim light of the alley, his gaze locked onto you like he’d been tracking your every movement.
You tried to push yourself up, to move, to run. But your legs were weak, too weak, your knees buckling as your breath came in jagged gasps. You couldn’t escape this, couldn’t escape him.
“Stop.”
His voice was firm, but not harsh. His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your wrist before grabbing your arm. Not painfully, but just enough to hold you still, enough to make you realize you couldn’t keep going.
You froze. The panic still gripped you, tightening your chest with every labored breath, but when his touch grounded you, something about the way he held you still made it worse. You hadn’t expected him to follow you. And now, here he was, like he’d found you in your most vulnerable moment.
He didn’t say anything else at first, just stood there, his grip on your arm gentle but firm, as if he was waiting for you to speak, to explain why you were falling apart, why you couldn’t keep it together. And then he spoke again, softer this time, with that quiet urgency that made your insides twist.
“You don’t have to pretend, you know.”
The words hit you like a wave.
You didn’t have to pretend. And that was all it took.
The tears you’d been holding back came crashing forward, hot and fast, spilling down your cheeks as your body started to shake. You tried to stand, tried to push through it, but the moment your legs gave out, Ji-yong’s arm shot around you, pulling you into his chest, catching you before you could hit the ground.
“Hey, hey,” he whispered, his voice full of surprise, full of something else you couldn’t quite name. His arms tightened around you as you gasped for air, your whole body shaking from the intensity of it. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
You shook your head against his chest, unable to stop the tears, unable to stop the sobs that tore their way out of you. You hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to be here, hadn’t expected to break down in his arms again. But somehow, despite everything, despite how much you tried to push him away, you felt something in you soften, a part of you finally willing to let go.
He didn’t say anything more. He just held you, letting you cry against him, his grip never tightening, never too forceful, just enough to remind you that he was there.
Ji-yong's chest tightened as he held you close, his heart breaking into pieces with each sob that wracked your body. The way you trembled in his arms, the rawness of your pain—it was all too much. His mind replayed every moment, every misstep, every word he’d said or hadn’t said, and it all came crashing down on him. He had been the one to walk away. He had been the one to push you out of his life, to let pride and fear dictate his actions. And now, seeing you broken in his arms, it felt like he had destroyed something precious. The guilt gnawed at him, sharp and unforgiving. He was the reason you were hurting, the reason you’d built walls around your heart. His choices, his mistakes—he had caused this. The weight of it threatened to crush him, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you, that he had broken something that could never be fixed.
"I—" You choked on the air, the pain in your chest too much. Your heart ached, and you thought you might break again. But you couldn’t keep pretending. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore. "I still love you, Ji-yong… I—I never stopped. But I’m so… so scared."
He didn’t say anything, didn’t even try to pull away or give you a soft smile to ease your discomfort. Instead, his arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as though he wanted to absorb your pain, to make it his own.
“I can’t open up and have you leave all over again.”
His voice cracked as he whispered, “I’m so sorry… for everything. I—God, I was stupid. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you, how much I was pushing you away. I thought I could handle it, thought I could fix everything, but I only made it worse.” He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “I’m sorry for leaving you when you needed me most, sorry for all the things I didn’t say, all the things I didn’t do. I’m sorry for every mistake, every time I made you feel less than—less than everything you deserve.”
His hands, which had once been so sure, trembled as they cupped your face, lifting your gaze to meet his. He could barely hold himself together, his own tears falling freely now. “Please… I’m begging you. Give me another chance. I—I swear I won’t mess it up this time. I can’t lose you again. I love you. I never stopped. Please, just—please don’t give up on us.”
The raw desperation in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world, made your heart ache all over again. He wasn’t just apologizing; he was pleading, his voice breaking with the weight of everything he had failed to say before. And even though every part of you screamed in hesitation, you couldn’t help but feel the tiny spark of hope that maybe—just maybe—this could be the moment everything shifted.
“I’ll never give up on us,” he continued, his voice steady now, full of resolve. “I swear.”
A shaky laugh escaped you, despite the tears that still clung to your lashes. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
And with that, Ji-yong’s lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, before deepening into a kiss that spoke of all the things you’d both been too afraid to say. It was gentle, full of longing and the sweet promise of healing. The kiss was the beginning of something new, a new chapter where the mistakes of the past could be forgiven and the love between you could bloom once more.
When he pulled away, his thumb gently stroked your cheek, and he smiled—a smile that was as soft and loving as the words he had just spoken. “I love you. I love you so much.”
summary: jiyong goes on a work trip but then your baby gets sick...
Packing should have been simple.
It was only two days.
But Jiyong was good at stalling.
You were folding one of his shirts while he lay sprawled across the floor, halfheartedly tossing things into his suitcase like a petulant child being forced to do chores.
Diva, ever his little shadow, stood beside him, clutching one of his headscarves in her tiny hands.
“Give that to Appa,” you encouraged her, nodding towards the soft silk.
She gripped the fabric tight before proudly handing it over.
Jiyong gently took it, thanking her, before dramatically tossing it into the suitcase like it physically pained him.
Diva watched this carefully.
So, when you handed her one of his hats next, she did the same - aiming for the suitcase but missing completely.
Jiyong sat up. “See? She doesn’t want me to go. It’s a sign.”
You rolled your eyes, picking the hat up off the floor. “No, she’s just copying you, as always.”
“Exactly. And if I don’t want to go, she doesn’t want me to go.”
Diva gave a little nod, though she definitely didn’t understand what was happening.
Jiyong gave you a smug look.
You ignored him, instead pulling out another jacket. “Do you want to take this one?”
He barely glanced at it before his eyes drifted to the open closet.
And there, hanging neatly beside both of yours -
Was Diva’s tiny, pink dressing gown.
Jiyong immediately groaned, falling back to the floor again. “I can’t go.”
“Jiyong.”
“I can’t!”
You sighed, shoving the jacket into the suitcase yourself. “I’ll finish packing for you, since I know neither of you are going to be any real help.”
Diva, now fully siding with her Appa, sat on his stomach watching you as you moved around the room.
He stared up at the ceiling of your room. “I hate this.”
You laughed. “You’ll be gone for two nights.”
“Two nights too many.”
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
He was late.
His flight was in an hour, and he was standing in the doorway, hugging you both like he was about to be exiled forever.
“I don’t wanna go,” he murmured into your hair, his arms tightening around you and Diva.
“I know.”
He pulled back with Diva perched on his hip in her little matching Chanel outfit - because of course she had one. She stared up at him, blinking slowly, her little hands clutching his shirt.
Jiyong sighed and pressed his lips to her head. “I was supposed to take my baby with me.”
“She’s been a little off these past few days,” you reminded him gently. “I think it’s better if she stays home.”
This would be the first time he was separated from her overnight since... well she was born. When you two were younger and touring the world for your careers, you had been torn apart many times. But since having your baby, the three of you travelled together everywhere.
The plan had been for Diva to accompany Jiyong whilst you went to rehearsal's but for the past couple days she hadn't been sleeping through the night and was turning her nose up at any food placed in front of her.
You smiled, squeezing his arm. “You're going to miss this your flight again.”
“They can move it.”
You sighed. “Jiyong.”
He huffed, pouting, and cupped Diva’s little face in his hand. “You promise to be good for Eomma?”
She nodded, her little spiky pony-tail bobbing. He carefully handed her to you, hands lingering.
He kissed her forehead. Then kissed you. Twice. Then Diva again.
You rolled your eyes. “Ji, you’re going to miss your flight.”
“Then I’ll have an excuse to stay.”
“Go.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Go.”
He finally, finally stepped back, dragging his feet toward the car.
You didn’t tell him that you watched from the window as he lingered outside, checking his phone like he was hoping you’d text him to come back.
You didn’t tell him that Diva started calling for him when he got in the car, her little hand pressed against the window.
And you definitely didn’t tell him that later that day, something happened.
Something that would make him turn the plane around.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
Diva loved rehearsals.
Normally, she’d sit with her Appa, tucked under his arm, sipping her juice while watching you dance.
But today, she was too quiet.
You glanced over, expecting to see her watching, but she was barely paying attention - just sitting cross-legged with her iPad in her lap.
You frowned, crouching beside her, brushing her hair back. “You okay, baby?”
She gave a tiny nod, but she looked… off.
Maybe she just missed her Appa.
To cheer her up, you handed her some juice.
And that’s when it happened.
She gagged.
Your eyes widened.
And then -
She started throwing up.
“Oh, my angel,” you gasped, immediately scooping her up, holding her close as she whimpered into your chest.
Rehearsal was over.
You didn’t care.
By the time you got home, she was still fussy, clinging to you, barely drinking anything.
You bathed her, changed her into soft pyjamas, and rocked her to sleep in your arms.
She felt so small.
Jiyong FaceTimed the second he landed, still on the plane.
“Where are my girls?” he grinned, expecting to see Diva running around behind you.
Instead, you flipped the camera, showing her tiny form snuggled under a blanket.
“She just fell asleep,” you whispered.
His smile softened. “My baby.”
You didn’t tell him she had been sick.
No need to panic him.
She’d be fine by morning.
Right?
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
She wasn’t fine.
She cried through the night, throwing up a couple more times until you were concerned enough to bring her to bed with you.
Both of you slept terribly and had matching messy buns as you watched a show on the tv, much in need of a quiet morning.
She was sat propped up against Jiyong’s pillow, holding onto his glasses that he’d left behind.
Your chest ached.
You pulled out your phone.
He answered immediately.
His face lit up. "Jagi!"
You could tell he was in the middle of something - a fashion show, probably. There were cameras around him, producers talking in the background. But the second he saw you, nothing else mattered.
He grinned, turning his phone around. “Look, everyone! My babies!”
The people around him smiled and waved, some even cooing at the screen.
Meanwhile, you tried to stay out of frame, knowing full well you looked a mess.
“Ji,” you hissed, “don’t show me!”
He pouted. “Why not? You’re so beautiful.”
He wouldn't share with you then how he'd been in the middle of sharing some of his favourite photos of you two for the camera for his show. You'd see it anyway when the fans reposted that particular photo of you holding your baby girl after she'd just covered your face in ice cream. One of his many screensavers.
You rolled your eyes but felt warm all the same.
But the second he saw Diva in her little pink dressing gown, his expression softened into something warm and longing.
“You miss Appa?” he murmured.
She didn't say much but held up his glasses.
Jiyong whined. “Shall I just come home?”
You chuckled. “No, no. We just wanted to see you.”
"I know you're busy with rehearsal today but can you call me when you two have lunch? I'll eat with you," He says, even though he was a few hours behind.
"Um, sure." You nod, but you knew you were staying home today and weren't sure if your baby would be willing to eat. You didn't want to panic him, knowing full well he'd cancel everything and come home if he caught wind that she was even just a little bit under the weather.
He kissed his phone and you handed yours to Diva so they could say their own goodbyes.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
She didn't eat.
She couldn't keep anything down - not even water.
That’s when you started panicking.
You called everyone.
Your husband's mom.
Your mom.
Hyorin.
“She’s probably just got a stomach bug.”
“Just keep her hydrated, she’ll be fine.”
“If you’re really worried, take her in.”
And you were worried.
So you went to the hospital.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
"It's a typical case of norovirus," the doctor explained. "She'll be okay but we'll keep her overnight since she's dehydrated."
You nearly burst into tears.
Overnight?
Your baby, in a hospital bed with an IV in her tiny hand?
The guilt pierced through your calm bubble and that’s when you finally called Jiyong.
And that’s when he lost it.
“She’s what?!”
“She’s going to be okay, but - ”
“I’M COMING HOME.”
“Ji - ”
“I’M COMING HOME.”
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
Jiyong moved heaven and earth to get back.
Left everything behind - his team, his manager, his luggage.
He didn’t wait for a private flight.
He didn’t care that he was flying commercial, stuck in economy with no security or leg room.
He didn’t even care that fans were taking pictures of him wiping his eyes with his hoodie sleeve.
All he cared about was getting to his family.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
When he arrived at the hospital, he burst into the room, breathless, hoodie pulled low over his eyes, but they were still red-rimmed and teary.
His gaze immediately locked onto the tiny form in the bed.
Diva, pale and sleepy, her IV-covered hand resting on her chest.
He kneeled on the bed, leaning over her.
“Baby,” he choked, brushing her hair back.
She stirred, blinking up at him with a small, sleepy smile.
“Appa…”
That was all it took.
Jiyong broke.
Tears slipped down his cheek as he leaned in, pressing a thousand kisses to her forehead, her hands, her little cheeks.
“I’m here, princess,” he whispered. “Appa’s here.”
You ran a hand down his back. “Ji, don’t cry.”
But you were crying too.
He pulled you close, both of you climbing onto the bed with her, wrapped up in each other.
And when it was finally time to sleep, Jiyong refused to leave her side.
His voice was barely a whisper:
“I’m never leaving again.”
And you knew he meant it.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
a lovely request! i actually had norovirus recently and it was brutal. poor diva ;(
Not Who I Want to Be
The Beauty of Vulnerability
Fuscia Pink Kisses
Performance of a Lifetime
Vacation Mode
The Fear of Feeling Nothing
Synopsis: In a bid to help Choi Su-Bong move on from the heartache caused by his father, you surprise him with a new four-legged friend.
A/N: These are the vibes I want Su-Bong and Reader's dog to have (Spoiler Alert! This fic is about them getting a dog!):
You could tell Choi Su-Bong was stressed. You could see it in the bags under his eyes, the lines etched into his permanently furrowed brow. He was constantly tense, his jaw muscles clenched, his teeth grinding against one another. He tossed and turned at night, and on more then one occasion you’d awoken in the middle of the night to find his side of the bed empty. You’d pad through to the living room and find him staring silently out of the window, the weight of the world resting heavily on his shoulders. You’d guide him back to bed, holding him as you lay together in the darkness of your bedroom.
The issues with his father were getting on top of him, suffocating Su-Bong and affecting every facet of his life. In the end, he’d blocked his father’s number, saving himself from any further heartbreak the man might try and cause. He’d been a fool to ever entertain the man’s wishes, to ever believe for a second that he could change. Despite deleting his number, Su-Bong couldn’t help but feel the same crushing heartbreak he’d endured for most of his childhood. He wasn’t himself at the moment, and you desperately wanted to help him.
From the outset of your relationship, Su-Bong had always talked about how much he loved dogs. You knew he was desperate to adopt a four-legged best friend, and you wondered if a dog might help heal his broken heart. You’d spent hours researching shelters around Seoul, finally landing on one not too far from your house.
It was a Saturday morning when you broke the news, Su-Bong still passed out in bed, catching up much needed sleep. You wished you could let him rest, but your appointment was in an hour and you didn’t want to be late.
“Hey,” you whispered, gently rousing him awake. “I have a surprise for you.”
His thick hair, now back to its trademark dark purple, stood haphazardly on end, the creases from his pillowcase etched into his handsome face.
“What?” He asked, his voice hoarse with sleep, his eyes still half shut.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, silly,” you smiled. “Get dressed. We have to leave soon.”
You were buzzing with excitement and nerves as you drove to the shelter. Part of you was worried that Su-Bong wouldn’t find a dog he connected with, and part of you worried that he’d want to bring all of the animals home.
“No way!” He cried, reading the shelter sign as you drove up to the gates. “Seriously?!”
“Mhmm,” you smiled, “I know how much you want a dog, so I thought now was as good a time as any.”
The whoop of joy he emitted made your ears ring, and you’d barely undone your seatbelt before Su-Bong was out of the car, practically skipping towards the entrance like an excited kid.
The shelter was full to the brim with dogs needing homes, and you took your time with each one, giving them the opportunity to get use to you. Just as you’d expected, Su-Bong wanted every animal there, from the poodles to the German shepherds. There was one dog though that stole your heart. A beautiful golden retriever, his boisterous energy and unending love reminding you so much of Su-Bong.
“What about this one?” You asked, laughing as the dog’s tongue planted a sloppy kibble-scented kiss across your cheek. The dog did the same to Su-Bong, smothering him in kisses and coating his black sweater in golden hairs. the connection was instantaneous, the three of you forming a bond that would last for many years to come.
“Biscuit,” he smiled, reading the dogs name on the side of the kennel door. “You want to come home with us?”
As you were signing the papers, Biscuit jumping excitedly between the two of you, the shelter manager mentioned that they were always looking for volunteers.
“Could be fun,” Su-Bong said, “It would be nice to give back and spend time with the dogs.”
You signed yourselves up as volunteers, before heading home with your new fur baby, the car full to the brim with dog food and toys.
The change in Su-Bong was almost immediate, his eyes bright and his smile wide as he showed Biscuit around his new home. You watched the two of them bounding room to room, Biscuit barking excitedly as he explored the apartment.
That night, you squeezed yourself between your boyfriend and your dog, clinging to the side of the mattress as the two of them took up most of the room. You didn’t mind though, smiling sleepily as you listened to their combined snores.
You hoped that bringing Biscuit home could be the start of a new chapter for you and Su-Bong, one that was free from the shadow of his father. He’d been through so much, had suffered unimaginable pain at the hands of the man who had raised him, and it broke your heart to see him so sad.
For the first night in weeks, Su-Bong slept soundly, his face pressed against Biscuit’s soft fur. The next morning he awoke to you and the dog perched on the end of the bed, a thermos in your hand as you geared up for your new routine of morning dog walks.
As you strolled along the river hand in hand, Biscuit stopping every few feet to explore his new domain, Su-Bong thanked his lucky stars for you. You’d come into his life exactly when he needed you most, and despite the pain he’d suffered, it had been worth it. If even one thing in his life had played out differently, he wouldn’t be walking in the early morning sun with you and your pet, wouldn’t get to wake up each morning next to the woman of his dreams.
Despite the challenges he’d faced, Su-Bong knew that so long as he had you by his side, everything would be ok.
and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky (teaser)
genre: poly doctors!ateez x doctor fem!reader, hospital romance, established relationship, slow burn, fluff, angst
length: 1.6k (teaser) + approx. 37k (full fic)
c/w: slightly aged-up characters, slow burn except it's burning in reverse, lots of medical themes, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic
synopsis: after transferring during the last year of your residency program, you work alongside your eight boyfriends at kq hospital. it becomes harder to keep your relationship the same as it used to be as you all navigate the respective challenges of being doctors and nurses. you come to experience love and loss in both warmth and coldness, but only one of them will keep your relationship alive.
a/n: not my titles becoming increasingly longer with each oneshot i write 💀 but this is probably my fave one yet and i hope it slaps when the full fic drops
your feet drag against the floor as you trudge listlessly back to your locker, body heavy as if you are caught in the very midst of a snowstorm. your shoulders cave even further in on themselves when you check your phone to see no reply from hongjoong.
you want nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriend’s arms, nose pressed against the soothing rumble of his chest as he listens to you complain about your day. it will not change anything about the situation with dr. lim and dr. nam but at least you will be able to release the hot steam that has built up from the bubbling pit of lava in your chest.
if hongjoong is still working, perhaps you can sit in his office and wait on his couch. his presence will be enough to keep you grounded.
some of the nurses in the neurology ward greet you cordially as you exit the elevator and you return their smile before sitting on a bench further down the corridor to avoid being in anybody’s way. you test your chances and call hongjoong’s number, only to hear the line ring until it sends you to his voicemail. when another attempt ten minutes later yields the same result, you send a text telling him to call you when he is finished.
you resign yourself to the bench with a passive sigh and wait, all the while a tempest swirling inside of you. eventually, one of the junior residents tilts her head at the sight of you still sitting on the bench, having passed by you almost twenty minutes ago in the same position. she calls out, “doctor l/n?”
you jerk up from where you are fiddling with your phone. recognising her as hongjoong’s colleague, you ask, “i’m just waiting for doctor kim. do you happen to know where he is?”
“doctor kim?” she furrows her brows, “he left already. he actually left early today.”
“oh.”
the heat in your chest suddenly dissipates, immediately replaced by a frigid hollowness that makes your mind go blank instead. horrified, you feel your eyes involuntarily start to prickle with tears no matter how hard you will for them to disappear.
“do you want me to pass a message on for you?” the resident looks at you with a twinge of concern, but mostly curiosity.
you shake your head and mumble, “no, that’s okay, thanks,” then rush away to avoid embarrassing yourself any further. deciding against asking one of your other boyfriends to drive you home, you forgo catching the bus too in favour of walking through the streets.
it’s not even a big deal. we’ve all forgotten about dates before and hongjoong would never deliberately blow you off.
you know that. you know this is not something you need to be upset over and you know that your boyfriend must have a reason. yet knowing does nothing to stop the trembling of your lips as you swipe furiously at your dripping tears with the back of your hand. on top of everything that has piled up today, hongjoong forgetting about your date is enough to topple it over completely.
the light snowfall from earlier has already stopped but the temperature remains just as low. as you tread through the chalky streets home, thoughts creeping through your mind like the fractal branches of a snowflake–fragile and delicate–you welcome the numbing chill around you instead and let it paralyse your emotions like an anaesthetic.
by the time you reach the front door, you have collected yourself enough. the rims of your eyes and the tip of your nose still have a slight redness to them but your appearance can easily be dismissed by the biting cold outside. you unlock the door and walk in.
you are met with immediate warmth; from the residual heat of shared dinner, from the streaming glow of lights, from the peals of low laughter. walking through the corridor almost feels like walking through a warped tunnel of dissociation–so familiar yet so foreign at the same time.
san sits on the couch, languidly scrolling on his phone with an arm wrapped around yeosang’s shoulders, who is flicking through a thin booklet of paper. sitting cross-legged at the coffee table in front of them in a stark contrast of mess is hongjoong–hongjoong who is hunched over his own booklet with a newly-made carpet and tablecloth of thesis and journal articles, textbooks and tablets.
you are so caught up by the hurricane of a scene that you do not realise you are about to step on the corner of a textbook until hongjoong’s head snaps up to look at you.
“be careful!” his warning cry is sharp with alarm.
your body jolts and you step backwards. “sorry.”
despite san and yeosang’s chirpy greetings, you remain frozen to the spot. the two of them clamber up to pull you into an excited hug, only to pause when they realise there is no way to navigate the landmine of paper scattered around the room, so they settle back into the cushions instead.
“don’t mind the mess,” yeosang giggles, unaware of the sudden onset of unease that courses through your body. “even seonghwa has given the okay for him to do this.”
your words come out thick and sticky as you ask, “what is hongjoong doing?”
san’s voice is sympathetic, “there was a last-minute change to his presentation that he’s doing at that annual neurological association meeting. his department head wants him to do a different topic.”
“he could’ve told me, i don’t know, five fucking months ago,” hongjoong curses fiercely at his tablet, “but he just had to wait until my presentation was basically done to let me know.”
you have had a bad day…but so has hongjoong.
the door opens behind you. fumbling for a moment, you try to make yourself smaller against the wall to make room for whoever of your boyfriends has returned. it is mingi back from his shift which tells you just how long you had waited for hongjoong, considering mingi’s shift ended almost two hours after yours did.
“y/n?” mingi’s eyes widen slightly as he smiles, the sight of you a pleasant surprise. he asks, “did you and hongjoong come back from your date already?”
you wince at the bomb he has unwittingly dropped; the very one you yourself were still unsure how to navigate.
“shit,” hongjoong’s head snaps towards you again but for an entirely different reason this time. “holy fuck. oh my fucking god.” his hands flutter as he upturns the scattered notes around him in search of his phone, face draining of all colour as it dawns on him he had silenced his notifications. “the date–i forgot. fuck, i am so fucking sorry, y/n.”
your boyfriends on the couch watch with darting eyes and mingi glances at you cautiously. in some twisted reality, you almost feel immobilised by guilt as hongjoong stumbles to his feet, grasping the phone he has finally found from where it had been tossed under the table.
nothing changes the fact that he forgot nor the fact that you have had a rough day. but just as you had realised, hongjoong has also had a rough day, if not worse than yours. and as with any relationship, one will always have to yield under pressure lest both people break.
swallowing thickly, you manage to force out, “that’s okay. i forgot too.”
a white lie, but a white lie has never hurt anybody.
mingi catches the slight twist of your fingers in the side of your jacket. he murmurs, “let’s go inside,” then tugs you by the elbow. he steps you carefully through the landmines further into the living room, gingerly toeing papers inches aside to reveal the floorboards underneath for the both of you to step on. hongjoong is still looking at you remorsefully as you near, his hands itching to reach out but afraid they will not be met with forgiving ones.
“it’s okay, joong, really,” you extend your fingers in his direction and gently squeeze his hand. “sorry to hear about your presentation. i know how hard you’ve worked on it the past few months.”
sadness still lingers in your boyfriend’s eyes at having made such a careless mistake despite the grateful smile he gives you. “i’ll make it up to you after the presentation is finished,” he vows. “i’ll take you out for a nice dinner and i promise i won’t forget this time.”
you chuckle softly with a reassuring nod, “okay.”
“what about you? how was your day?” hongjoong asks.
an hour ago you wanted nothing more than the comfort he could offer while you vented about your day and you are almost certain fatigue and frustration are smeared across your face right now. yet you simply answer, “it was a long day but it was good.”
another white lie.
before your boyfriends can probe any further, you state, “i’m going to take a shower first. might head to sleep early today.” you lean forward to give hongjoong a chaste kiss, who easily relaxes into it with relief. you turn to rise onto your tiptoes to give mingi one too before meeting yeosang and san halfway from where they kneel on the couch to also kiss you goodnight.
then you turn and retreat to your room. it is not all too bad, you reconcile with yourself. alone time would be good after today’s events.
a third white lie.
but again, that is fine, because a white lie never hurt anybody…nobody except for yourself.
taglist pt. one | apply | comment to be tagged for this fic only
When He Takes Your Child To The Studio ~ Big Bang Reaction
T.O.P:
The smile on his face was wide as Jiyong pointed out to Seunghyun, your son in the corner of the studio, trying his best to copy the four boys.
It quickly got the attention of all four of the boys as your son got lost in his own little world. “He’s having a right boogie.”
“He takes after his daddy,” Seunghyun proudly told them all, “he constantly wants to watch our videos back at home and tries to copy the dances.”
“You want him to be a dancer in the future?” Daesung asked him.
Seunghyun shrugged as he didn’t tear his eyes away from your son, “it would be pretty cool if he was a dancer, I mean look at him, he’s a natural, right?”
“He’s already a better dancer than you,” Jiyong teased, “how does it feel to be shown up by your four year old son at the studio, at your own place of work?”
“He’s not showing me up,” Seunghyun tried to dismiss, “hopefully one day this will be his place of work too.”
“Dancing his heart out,” Youngbae chuckled, “and being the best dancer in the Choi household.”
“Hey, the second best Choi, thank you.”
Taeyang:
A shrug of the shoulders came from Youngbae as Daesung voiced his concerns about the fun activities that he had prepared for your daughter.
Daesung looked questionably as he met Youngbae’s eyes, “you know that Y/N doesn’t like her eating sweets during the day.”
“I’m doing Y/N a favour,” Youngbae reminded him, “if sweets are needed to keep Y/D/N under control then she’ll just have to deal with the consequences.”
“Are the sweets needed?” Seunghyun asked as he watched on.
A hum came from Youngbae as he watched your daughter closely, “probably not, but I’ve got a reputation as the fun uncle that I need to try and keep.”
“I’m so glad you’re taking Y/D/N home to your sister tonight and not us,” Jiyong jokingly told him, “I can already imagine her going crazy knowing what you’ve done.”
“Y/D/N knows what happens with Uncle Younbae stays with Uncle Youngbae,” he assured them, “it’s our little promise.”
“One day Y/N will find out,” Seunghyun warned him, “and you won’t be doing this anymore.”
“Y/N needs me to take care of Y/D/N.”
G-Dragon:
A weak smile formed on Jiyong’s face as he walked into the studio with your son in tow, feeling the eyes of all three of the boys watching him closely.
Your son quickly ran off to greet the three boys as Jiyong dropped his bag. “Y/N isn’t feeling well, so daddy duties today it is.”
“And we have to babysit too?” Youngbae asked him, throwing his arms up into the air. “We signed up to sing and dance and not take care of Y/S/N.”
“It’s just for one day,” Jiyong quickly assured them all.
Seunghyun nodded as he walked over with your son in his arms, “I’m sure we won’t lose too much time if we spend the day dancing and messing with Y/S/N.”
“You won’t even know that I’m here,” your son jokingly told them all, copying what Jiyong had prepared him to say in the car, “it’ll be like I’m at home.”
“We know your daddy bud, we know that you’ll be here,” Daesung replied to him, “you make as much noise as he does.”
“I guess one day wouldn’t hurt,” Youngbae eventually decided, “but you owe us for babysitting.”
“He’s your nephew, don’t you forget.”
Daesung:
A sigh came from Daesung as he watched your daughter do another lap of the studio, full of energy, and not looking ready to tire any time soon.
His hand rested over his head as Jiyong chased after her, “Y/N’s going to go crazy if I take her home with this much energy.”
“We’re having fun!” Jiyong called out to him, picking your daughter up and throwing her in the air, “daddy’s being boring, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, don’t be boring,” your daughter noted with Jiyong.
A roll of the eyes followed from Daesung as Seunghyun appeared beside him, “if she doesn’t sleep tonight, I’ll throw you guys under the bus with Y/N.”
“You can’t do that,” Seunghyun groaned, hitting against his arm, “Y/N’s scary, especially when it comes to Y/D/N, she’ll go crazy if you tell her this is our fault.”
“Stop chasing her around the studio then,” Daesung told the three of them, “or you can come home and do bedtime.”
“Are they coming home with us?” Your daughter excitedly asked, “are uncles coming for tea?”
“every season is one of becoming, but not always one of blooming. be gracious with your ever-evolving self.” — b. oakman
the essence of youth is summers with you
poly surfers!ateez x childhood best friend!reader (38.7k)
when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands–choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?
our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom
poly hockey team!ateez x coach!reader (37.6k)
you become the new coach of the elite men's ice hockey team, the red devils. but with both yourself and the team carrying burdens of the past, you all find it difficult to see eye to eye. as you lead them to the championships in the korean ice hockey league, you discover that teamwork and trust is not as straightforward as it seems.
and if it stops snowing? then count the stars in the sky
staring at the sun | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader
pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, sneaking around, hair pulling, pet names, dirty talk, a smidge of self doubt sprinkled around.
note: this is my take on combining a few requests i got, because i got inspired from a couple of edits i saw on tiktok and listening to a tvotr song. i tried writing this a little differently than I normally write, and i had this vision of ‘deleted or extended scenes’ of certain moments described here, which is something i’ve never done before. maybe it’s silly, but if you guys like this then I’ll expand on those scenes and give you some more from this story’s universe. also don’t chat to me about this being pink hair era, it is my favorite so maybe I’ll be writing about it the most. so what. anyway, enjoy!
———————
The first time you kissed Seunghyun was an accident — well, maybe not an accident, because he intended to kiss you, but it certainly was unexpected. It was in the middle of one of the band’s performances when the boys stepped off the stage for a brief break in between songs, and as a stagehand, you were responsible for the hydration of Seunghyun that night. You waited for him at the stage exit, two bottles of water in your hands and a welcoming smile on your face.
When he walked towards you, there was a frenzied look in his eyes; not panicked, but more energized, wired from the show. As much as he likes to keep a stoic demeanor about him during most performances, you know he adores what he does. It brings him a joy that you seldom see in people, and it makes you both jealous and grateful that he’s able to feel such satisfaction — he deserves it.
Seunghyun had a determined walk that night to go along with his intensity, like he couldn’t wait to get off of the stage because he had to do something. You held the bottles towards him as he neared, smiling still. He stopped too close to you, that was the first thing you noticed. You didn’t have a problem with him being in your personal space, not in the general sense of the word anyway. It was more of a disadvantage, maybe a hindrance — you couldn’t operate at 100% with him that close.
It would happen each time Seunghyun even brushed you as he tried to walk by, or when he gave you the friendliest of touches. Your skin would flush, your breath would catch in your throat, and you’d find it hard to even speak. That night was no different, if possible, it was even worse. Not only was he standing in your space, you could feel the heat radiating off of him, he was so close.
“How is it?” he asked, taking a water from your grasp and twisting the cap off. He threw his head back to take a large glug of water; you couldn’t help but fixate on the sweat on his skin, and his throat as he swallowed. Your mouth went dry at the sight. “Well?” You hadn’t realized he was finished with the bottle and was focused on you again, a faint grin on his lips. You couldn’t answer him, your words were caught in your throat and the more he stared at you, the worse it got.
That’s when he leaned towards you, stooping just enough to dip his head closer. The moment felt almost cinematic. The buzz from the fans that still cheered on the other side of the curtain, the bright lights that shone from every direction, the way he paused just before his lips met yours. When you let out a shuddered breath and leaned closer to him, Seunghyun took the hint, and closed the distance between you.
The kiss was soft and quick, just a peck, before he pulled back to look into your eyes. You don’t remember what face you made in response, but it was enough for Seunghyun to place his hand on your hip, gently pushing you backwards until your back hit a wall. You were out of view of anyone who would have walked by, secluded yet surrounded by thousands of people. This time when he kissed you, he was pressed against you harder, more intensely.
He didn’t kiss you like he was frantic, or he needed it, but instead like he was curious, almost scientific. He admitted later that he was nervous but you didn’t get that sense at the time. He didn’t even act like he enjoyed it, and before you knew it, the kiss was done and he was needed back on stage. He took the other water bottle from your hand and was gone before you uttered a word. You were confused to say the least.
Seunghyun didn’t talk to you about it afterwards. The band had another show the following night, and when you stood in the same spot, two more bottles in your hands, you were nervous. As he walked in your direction, you were certain you’d pass out from the way your heart pounded in your chest, but thankfully, your feet were firmly planted.
This time, when he reached you, Seunghyun once again drank a whole bottle of water before planting another kiss on your lips. Since it was a different venue than the night before, the secluded space you shared was no longer an option. Instead, he backed you against a stack of trunks, one hand on your hip to pin you in place.
In the moment, you weren’t sure if it was some sort of fantasy that your brain was making you believe was reality. There’s no way that this highly sought after man would be kissing you in private during his shows. It didn’t make sense. But the kiss was different this time, as he slipped his tongue into your mouth to deepen it briefly. Before you could fully enjoy the kiss, it was over again, and he left you standing alone in seclusion.
That was the start of a tradition. Each night, during their very brief intermission, Seunghyun would meet you backstage and hide behind anything nearby so you could kiss. It was sneaky and clandestine, and it gave you a knot in your stomach each time.
It took you until the fifth night for you to put your hands on him — both hands set simply on his hips; until then, you’d stayed still, too worried that if you tried to touch him, it would spoil the moment. Seunghyun told you later that he felt the same way, overthinking the moments and thinking that if he touched you too much or said anything about it, you wouldn’t want to kiss him anymore.
By the eighth night of kissing in secret, you felt something switch inside of you, and when you put your hands on his hips, you slid them up his body, feeling the heat of his skin under his sweat soaked shirt. You vividly recall the way you could feel his heart pounding as you pressed your hands flat against his chest. He responded by wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
That night, when Seunghyun pulled away from you, that same switch inside of you drove you to grab his belt buckle and pull him in for one last quick kiss. As your lips were connecting, you could see a very small amused smirk on Seunghyun’s lips — at least he wasn’t mad.
Two weeks of kissing and gentle, explorative touching backstage at concerts. Away from your secret rendezvous, you had initially not treated each other any differently; friendly, joking, cordial. But at the end of week two, you started to notice the looks Seunghyun would give you when no one else was looking, along with the way he seemed to linger in your personal space. That made you more nervous than the kissing did.
“Why do you stare at me when the guys aren’t looking?” you asked him one night while he was kissing you. It made him stop altogether, peering into your eyes breathlessly. You were momentarily worried that you’d spoiled it by asking, as neither of you spoke during these moments before. It took him a few seconds of thought before he could answer, during which your eyes didn’t leave his face.
“I want to kiss you all the time,” he admitted. “I think about it whenever you’re around. Sometimes when you’re not.” You blushed, not expecting the softness and candor in his response. “This is my favorite part of each night,” he added.
“Can I tell you a secret?” you asked. Seunghyun nodded, staring directly at your mouth as he waited for you to continue. “I really like doing this in secret,” you began, feeling your nerves spread through your whole body. “It’s sexy.”
You’d never forget the glint in his eyes when you said it, excited and something almost devious. You wished you could have a picture of the way he looked at you, but it ingrained itself in your memory anyway. He looked like he was overcome with desire, for you.
The signal for him to return to stage came far too soon after that. He didn’t get to truly respond to what you had said, but he told you later that it was all he could think about for the rest of the night. You agreed with him, remembering the way that you trembled with excitement at what could come of the conversation.
The next night of the tour something changed. It wasn’t ideal to say the least. One of the other stagehands said they wanted to switch positions, and of course, your manager agreed to the change. You didn’t have time to tell Seunghyun of the change ahead of time, but you still tried to make yourself visible when he exited the stage.
The obvious look of disappointment and confusion on his face would have been funny if you didn’t feel the same way. He had glanced beyond the other stagehand to where you stood, mindlessly rolling up some cables, staring directly at him. He changed the look on his face quickly, shifting back to the stoic persona he usually presented, and acted as though nothing was wrong.
Later that night, after the show ended, you wandered through the corridors of the venue, making sure all of the leftover equipment had been gathered. You were so focused on the task, you didn’t hear Seunghyun sneaking up behind you, so you let out a surprised yelp when he grabbed you and pulled you into a nearby utility closet.
It was pitch black in the room, but you could tell it was him. His breathing, his smell, his energy, it was all around you and as you felt the warmth of his body closing in on you, all you could do was throw your arms around his neck to pull him in.
It was the first time he touched you. Like really touched you. You didn’t miss the slight tremble in his hand as it slid up your stomach, stopping just as his fingertips touched your breast. His hesitancy to not cross a line is what made you feel empowered; you took hold of his hand that barely teased your breast and dragged just a little higher to press his palm against you. He took the hint and wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing gently.
“I hated not being able to kiss you earlier,” he admitted, kissing your cheek as he held you close.
“I got reassigned.”
“I’ll take care of that.”
The way Seunghyun said it, without a single shred of uncertainty, because he knew whatever he would say to the team would happen…the power that he had…
You kissed him again, so worked up with excitement, you bit his lip. Not too hard, but enough to make him chuckle into your mouth. You didn't realize right away, not until he let out a moan, but your hand had worked its way down to touch him through his pants. You worried for a moment that you crossed a line but he was already getting hard before you touched him.
“Is this how you want our first time to be?” Seunghyun asked, kissing your neck as he ground himself against your hand. “In a utility closet? In the dark?”
“You can have me wherever you want me.”
“But you love the secrecy,” he teased. “You love hiding but you love the thought of being caught. You love being my secret, don’t you, princess?”
“I do,” you admitted. Seunghyun let out a soft gasp, a little rumble of that deep voice, as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
“You’re a good girl,” he said, gently. “But we don’t have time to do this here.” You were disappointed, of course, but you knew he was right. You had a job to do and it would be suspicious for him to be missing for too long. “We have two days off of the tour next week,” he continued. “In Melbourne. We’ll get a hotel.”
“Okay,” you replied, breathless from excitement.
“I’ll make sure you’re back in your regular assignment, as well,” he added. “I won’t be able to handle not kissing you for a week. I love being able to see you like that every night.”
You’d never expected Seunghyun to be so open to admit what could be perceived as weakness. He always came across very closed off, and protective of his emotions around most people apart from his fellow bandmates — even then, he didn’t seem quite as open.
The next several days seemed to drag on forever as you waited to have alone time with Seunghyun. Still, you had your stolen glances and private make out sessions every night, each kiss more desperate than the last, hands moving heavier with more determination.
The last show before the two day break, Seunghyun unbuttoned your jeans and began to slide his hand into your panties. You tensed, and he froze, panic spreading across his face, thinking he crossed a line. You stared into each other’s eyes and his hand stayed just barely past the elastic of your panties, unsure of what to do. You nodded slowly to give him permission to continue, and then you lowered your gaze to watch between your bodies as his hand traveled deeper into your panties.
You could recall that first sensation when his fingers, surprisingly cold, gently touched your folds. He didn’t tease you, no, there wasn’t enough time and you were so close to your hotel date so he wouldn’t do it just yet. Instead he made sure his fingers were wet with your juices before he pulled back, sliding his fingers into his mouth as he kept his gaze on you.
You worried you’d faint from the sight of him savoring your taste, but he gave you a wink, and headed back to the stage before you had the opportunity to even respond. Seunghyun told you later that he could taste you on his lips and tongue for the rest of the show, and that he had to focus not to get hard in front of everyone. You told him that you could feel his cold, soft fingers touching you for the rest of the night, and that you would let him fuck you on stage if that was what he wanted to do. He blushed but you could tell he definitely envisioned it.
You weren’t sure what to expect when it came to being alone in a hotel with Seunghyun, so your mind came up with hundreds of different scenarios that could potentially play out. During your secret rendezvous with him, he was tender for the most part, with the occasional moment of audacity like when he touched you between your thighs.
The first time you had sex with Seunghyun was gentle, the kind of thing you feel like you’d read in a romance novel. There wasn’t a lot of talking apart from the occasional soft whispers of encouragement from him, but your head was too foggy for you to even think of anything else to do except breathe and whimper. You would have been embarrassed by how composed he was compared to you, but you knew he wouldn’t want you to think that way.
You stayed tangled together in bed for what felt like hours after, telling stories of your lives and dreams for the future. As you listened to him open up to you, telling you about all of his hopes and dreams and demons, all you wanted was to kiss him and hold him for the rest of your life. But maybe that wasn’t what he wanted from you.
“Is this it?” you asked him, trying to make your voice stronger than you felt. “After today, are we back to the way things were?”
“Is that what you want?”
“No, not at all,” you said, earnestly.
“Neither do I.”
Things changed from that moment onward, the start of your relationship with Seunghyun. You both agreed that it would be best to keep it between the two of you as long as you could, not ready to deal with the attention of his fans or his bandmates. Beyond that, sneaking around was still so fucking hot.
Once, Taeyang almost caught you. The group had a performance at an award show in Japan that your team wasn't required for. After several days of rehearsals and fittings during which you spent no time together, you finally found a brief moment, maybe ten minutes of time, where Seunghyun wasn’t being pulled in a million different directions. He gave you a quick nod towards the bathrooms, and you knew what he was suggesting.
It was an individual bathroom, no stalls. You snuck inside first, staying at the far side of the room to wait for him to join you. Only a few minutes went by before he finally entered the room, hurriedly locking the door and moving towards you.
“I missed you,” he breathed, crashing his lips into yours for a kiss that he clearly had been waiting too long for. You grabbed his hips and pulled him against you, longing to feel his body again. “Being around you and not being able to touch you like I want to,” he began, kissing along your neck. “Drives me crazy. I don’t know how I’ll manage the next few days not being able to see you.”
You slid your hand to the back of his head, your fingers threading through his short hair, to guide him to a spot on your neck that you love when he kisses. His hands grabbed your sides hard, pinning you to the wall and keeping you in place to grind himself against you.
“Don’t get too worked up,” you warned. “We won’t have time for me to get you off, baby. And I’ve been wanting it so bad, I’ve been dreaming about it. You can’t leave me hungry for you like that.” Seunghyun bit your neck, sucking harder on your skin, clearly trying to leave a mark. “Are you trying to claim me?” you asked, tugging on his hair to get a groan from him. “You want them to see that I already belong to someone?”
“I want you to remember it,” he muttered against your skin. “When I can’t be with you in the next few days, I want you to look in the mirror and see this mark so you’ll remember the way that only I know how to make you feel.”
That was the first time he showed his possessive side, and you were elated. You wanted to return the favor, maybe scratch up his back or his chest to give him something to think about while you weren’t near him but you worried that would be the fastest way to get caught. Sure, Seunghyun seldom showed much skin to anyone, but you knew that his friends enjoyed teasing and pranking one another, which has previously included sneaking pictures of one another while in compromising situations — like in the shower.
The knock on the bathroom door scared you both, and Taeyang’s voice made you even more terrified. All you could do was stare at one another with panic in your eyes.
“Hey, man, we have to leave soon for the next fitting,” Tae called out, knocking again. “Then to the airport for the flight.”
“Okay,” Seunghyun replied, hoping it would be sufficient.
“Are you alright?” came Tae’s response, and she shook the door handle as if he wanted to get in the room. “You sound odd.”
“Be out in a minute.” Seunghyun sounded as irritated as he looked, but thankfully, Tae took the hint and you heard his footsteps retreating. Seunghyun put his hands on the wall on either side of you, looking at you, discouraged. “Text me every time you think of me,” he said. “Especially if it’s dirty.”
“That will be a lot of messages,” you admitted, which made him grin.
“You think about me that much?” he inquired and you nodded, transfixed on his mouth. “Good. Give me details, so I know what my girl daydreams of me doing to her. I’ll miss you.” You make sure to give him another kiss, knowing you won’t see him for several days. “Stay here for a minute after I leave,” he directed. “I’ll make sure no one is around.”
Seunghyun exited first, casually to not draw attention. You counted to thirty before you made your exit, thankfully no one was in sight to be any the wiser.
You sent him fifteen texts that day, which was showing a tremendous amount of restraint compared to how frequently you actually thought of him. Your mind was almost entirely on him from the moment he left your side: sweet thoughts of how you’d love to hold his hand and walk through a market together, tender thoughts of kissing endlessly in his bed, filthy thoughts that you refused to elaborate on via text message but you made sure he knew you needed him in every imaginable way.
That night was the first time you had phone sex with Seunghyun. You couldn’t make it twenty four hours without each other. The sound of Seunghyun trying to keep his moans to a reasonable volume to not get caught by his bandmates in the next room was something you’d think about forever; you wished you could record the sound in your mind and play it whenever you wanted. The slightly static and muffled distortion of his voice coming through the phone somehow made his voice deeper, and when he told you what he would have done to you if you were there with him that night, you switched to a video call so he could watch you touch yourself.
You slowly found out about each other’s kinks. He liked watching you touch yourself because if anyone knew what you liked the most, it would be you. He also liked being called ‘baby’, and having his hair pulled. You told him you liked being more submissive, and you especially enjoyed dirty talk. He said he liked lingerie, the lacy kind, and he ended up buying you three different sets to wear for him. Though you were most nervous to admit this one, and you tried to avoid it altogether, you told him the contact lenses and costume for ‘Bae Bae’ were sexy.
“I’ll wear them for you one day,” he promised. “But you’d better be a dirty girl for me if I do, princess.” You tried to hide your excitement and embarrassment, but Seunghyun saw it immediately. “I love when you get shy,” he smirked, stealing a gentle kiss.
“I love everything you do,” you responded.
The first time you both actually said ‘I love you’ was during one of the intermissions about two months after you started your relationship. You both admitted later that you felt it much earlier on than that, but didn’t want to pressure the other.
Seunghyun said it first. The roles were slightly reversed from usual, as he was the one pressed back against the wall with your hands touching his body over his shirt. Your mouth was leaving a wet trail of kisses along his sharp jawline, tasting the sweat on his skin. His hands were on your backside, pulling you against him hard, letting you work your magic on him.
“I love you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss below your ear then resting his head against yours. You stopped kissing his neck, staying in place, breathing slowly as you let the words sink in. “Is that okay?” he questioned, his hands shifting to your hips now, rubbing soothingly.
“More than okay,” you whispered, nudging your head against his gently. “I love you, too.”
Seunghyun let out a small, excited yell in response to your words, roughly wrapping his arms around you and spinning you both in a circle. You laughed along with him holding on tight as he got out his excited response.
“I knew it, princess. You can’t get enough of me.”
“That’s funny, coming from you,” you retorted, playfully shoving him against the wall again and standing in front of him, both of your hands pressed to his chest. “I’m so fucking in love with you,” you whispered, wistfully.
Seunghyun gave you one last passionate kiss before he had to go back onto the stage. He told you later he felt like it was the best performance he ever gave because he couldn’t stop thinking about how much love was in your eyes when you looked at him.
When Jiyong almost caught you, it was enough to cause you and Seunghyun to have a conversation about the future of your relationship. It was after a show, when Daesung asked you to join the guys and a few others to go to a club. Ordinarily, you would have refused as you didn’t spend a lot of time clubbing, but when you glanced past Daesung towards Seunghyun, you noticed the hopeful look on his face — so you agreed. Maybe the night would give you an opportunity to dance with Seunghyun.
What you hadn’t thought of, however, was what happened a couple of hours before, during your intermission make out session. You decided to tempt Seunghyun, just a little bit, and you wore a skirt. You knew immediately that it worked, because his hands were under your skirt, groping your thighs, as soon as his body touched yours.
The issue was that you had slipped your panties off and handed them to him just before he went back on stage; hot pink panties from a set he had bought. You could see the surprise on his face initially, but his expression changed to something different, more intense. He shoved the clothing into the pocket of his jacket, swooping back towards you for another kiss before he went back to the stage. He told you later that it was one of the sexiest things you ever did, and that he tried to think of a way to do something similar for you, but he didn’t think handing you his briefs would have the same impact.
Fast forward to the club, when Seunghyun took his jacket off and draped it over his seat, only to have your panties fall from his pocket to the floor. Neither of you noticed it until Jiyong spoke.
“Lose something?” he laughed.
“Huh?” Seunghyun asked, prompting Jiyong to point to the clothing on the floor. Your heart leapt to your throat and you were thankful that the lights were low in the club so no one could see the look of shock and embarrassment on your face.
“Pink to match your hair, is that it?” Jiyong teases, taking a sip of his drink. Seunghyun scooped the panties up from the ground, stuffing them into the pocket of his pants this time.
“Caught them on stage,” he explained casually, sitting down again.
“And you decided to carry them with you after you changed clothes,” Jiyong continued, a smirk on his lips as he watched Seunghyun for any signs of deception.
“You don’t have to act so jealous because you didn’t catch any,” Seunghyun responded, a sly smirk on his lips. Jiyong laughed at his friend’s response.
“That’s a shame — I thought you’d finally found someone willing to put up with all of your quirks.” Seunghyun didn’t need to respond, and he told you later that if he didn’t relent when he did, Jiyong would have kept pushing until he figured out your secret.
The best moment of the night was dancing with Seunghyun. Even when you were just friends, you didn’t share a dance together, so you weren’t aware of how good it felt to slow dance and grind with him. To make sure no suspicions were raised, you danced with the others as well, and even though Seunghyun agreed it would be a good idea, you could tell he hated to watch it happen.
Later that night, Seunghyun sent you a video of him, a little tipsy from the drinks that night, and a little frustrated from the lack of time spent with you. He spoke deeper than normal, trying to avoid being heard by anyone through the walls.
“I didn’t like their hands on you,” he muttered. “Touching you like they had the right. It makes me crazy not being able to touch you when I want, princess.” He sounded needy in a way you hadn’t heard from him before, and it made you wish he was with you in your room right then.
It wasn’t until the next day that you had a few moments to spare together where Seunghyun asked you if you were serious about him. You were frustrated with the question at first until you realized why he was asking: you two were getting closer to being caught, and he wanted to save you from the relentless teasing and jokes you’d be subjected to once the others found out. You told him you didn’t care and you loved him, so that was all that mattered. You’d enjoy sneaking around while you still could.
The first time you played a prank on him wasn’t your choice. Daesung and Jiyong talked you into it, because they knew that Seunghyun would expect strange behavior from them during a prank war. You were an objective third party as far as they knew, and you thought going along with their plan would be the best way to keep the heat off of you.
You didn’t think it was a great idea because you knew how much Seunghyun didn’t enjoy showing off his body, but Daesung convinced you to steal Seunghyun’s clothes while he was in the shower. You agreed, and before you knew it, you found yourself sneaking into the shower room in search of his clothes. Until he caught you, all of his clothes bunched up in your hands while he stood opposite you with a towel around his waist.
“You turned on me, princess?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips. “You joined their team?”
“It’s just…for fun,” you explained, cheeks flushing.
“Are you blushing because you’ve been caught or because you want me to drop the towel?” He stalked towards you, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to run away or run closer. “Both?” he smirked.
“Maybe a little,” you mumbled.
“Take the clothes,” he nodded, finally in front of you. “I’ll make a big scene about it, don’t worry. But tonight, I want you to come by my hotel room, and you can pay me back.” He stole a quick kiss from you before gently shoving you in the direction of the exit.
You both acted perfectly together, convincing the other guys that you had pranked him. They laughed uncontrollably as Seunghyun cursed them for talking you into a stupid prank war. After you finally relented and returned his clothes, he spared a quick glance to the others to make sure they weren’t looking when he whispered in your ear.
“My room later,” he said. “You owe me.”
He got you off four times that night before he let you relax. It was a new record for both of you.
The next day was the first time one of the guys suggested Seunghyun ask you out. You weren’t around when it happened, working elsewhere in the arena setting up for the rehearsal, but Seunghyun was practically giddy when he told you later.
From Seunghyun’s retelling of the conversation, Tae was the first to bring it up, mentioning that he could see a spark between the two of you at the club. Jiyong agreed but Daesung mentioned that he felt he had more of a chance with you than Seunghyun did.
“Dae would be my second choice,” you joked with Seunghyun, and thankfully, he laughed in response.
According to Seunghyun, he played the whole thing as casually as possible. At first he denied that there was any sort of spark between you, and then he allowed his friends to make him see it. Still, he shrugged it off, saying he didn’t have time for a relationship. By the end of the conversation, he seemingly dissuaded them of the notion altogether.
“I don’t think I’m ready to tell them,” he admitted. “It’s fun sneaking around, and I’m happy being private. Besides, that’s one step closer to the rest of the world finding out. I don’t want you to face them until you’re ready.”
It was sweet how he wanted to protect you, but you felt in a certain part of your mind that maybe he wasn’t ready to tell the world because he wasn’t proud of you. It was a silly notion, and you knew from the way he looked at you that he would do anything for you, just as you would for him. Still, you couldn’t help but hear that small whisper of doubt if you thought too hard about your relationship.
The whisper got softer, and eight months into your still secret relationship with Seunghyun, you couldn’t hear it at all anymore. The tour had ended and you were able to spend more time together without as much worry of being caught. You spent most of your days in his apartment, sometimes yours, watching movies together or staying in bed. You were sometimes treated to the sight of Seunghyun at his desk, writing new music; you think those were your favorite days.
It all brings you to this moment right now. You’re tangled up in the sheets of Seunghyun’s bed, on your back with your hips at the edge, while he’s knelt on the floor with his head between your legs. He has your thighs spread wide for him, pinned down against the bed so he can get at you without issue.
“Fuck, baby,” you moan, fisting his hair to hold him in place where he sucks on your clit. “That feels so good, please don’t stop.”
“Mhm,” he hums against you, and you’re sure you can feel him smirking. He thrusts his fingers into you faster, sensing that you’re close from the way you’re squeezing and grinding against him. “Good girl,” he breathed into you. “Come for me, baby.”
Every time Seunghyun makes you come, it feels better than the last. Your body trembles and you moan out his name so much and so hard, you feel like you’ll lose your voice. This time is no different, and you ride out each and every wave of your orgasm, then dropping back into the sheets, panting.
“I’ll never get tired of the way that sounds,” Seunghyun says, licking the taste of you from his lips and fingers. “You, calling my name, breathing like you’re desperate for air. You’re so beautiful.” You reach towards him, cupping his face with both hands and urging him closer to you. He grins up at you, climbing on top of you on the bed to kiss you passionately.
You’re both so lost in the feeling of one another you don’t hear the front door of the apartment open, and you didn’t hear your friends talking idly while they changed their shoes in the entryway. If you had overheard them, you would have had more time to cover yourselves up or even hide before they entered the bedroom.
“Oh, damn!” Jiyong exclaims, laughing. “I’m sorry!” He covers his eyes and turns from the doorway, but is quickly joined by his two other bandmates who are hurrying to peer into the room.
“No way!” Daesung laughs.
“I knew it,” Tae laughs.
“Fucking go!” Seunghyun yells, pointing at them with one hand as he tries to help you cover yourself with a sheet. “Have some respect!” The other three men almost fall over one another as they scramble from the room, still in a fit of excited laughter. “I’m so sorry,” Seunghyun says, softly, as he turns to check on you. “Are you okay? I didn’t know they were coming over.”
“It’s okay,” you nod, your cheeks still flushed in embarrassment. “I guess the truth is out now.”
“So much for privacy,” he chuckles, grasping your jaw tenderly and pulling you towards him for a kiss. “I’m sorry, princess. If you go get cleaned up, I’ll talk to those idiots, and try to calm them down before you come out there.”
“Okay,” you smile. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he replies. You smile, tossing the blanket from your body and moving to stand up from the bed. “Wait,” Seunghyun says, catching your hips, and pulling you to stand in front of where he sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m not upset that they know. I’ll miss sneaking around because it was sexy…but at least we can be open about it. And we can start moving you in here tomorrow.”
“That’s how you ask me to move in with you?” you chuckle, putting your hands on his shoulders.
“You love it here,” he responds, one of his hands slipping between your thighs, touching your still wet and tender folds. “I‘ll be able to touch you anytime you want me to. And we both know…you always want me to touch you.”
“Mmm,” you hum, closing your eyes and letting out a soft sigh. “Maybe. But I’m not going to let you finger me while your friends are in the other room.” Seunghyun laughs, removing his hand from between your legs and making sure you look at him before he slips his fingers into his mouth to clean them.
“Go clean up,” he commands, gesturing to the bathroom. “If I get them to leave before you’re out, I’m coming in there and fucking you in the shower.” You laugh, playfully slapping his shoulder.
“Don’t make a promise that you don’t intend to keep.”
“Oh, you doubt me?” he laughs. “Now I’ll have them out of here in sixty seconds, so you’d better be in that shower waiting for me. Or else you’ll be in trouble.” You wish you could identify what it was about Seunghyun threatening you like this that set your inside alight with arousal, but you figure that’s an internal conversation for another time. “Go now,” he says, smacking you on your backside. “Be a good girl and listen to what I told you.”
As you enter the bathroom, you feel an excitement radiating through you unlike you’d felt before at the thought of being in a relationship with Seunghyun. Now that the truth is out, the possibilities are endless. And the likelihood of Seunghyun keeping his promise to meet you in the bathroom is now a certainty as he stands in the doorway, thirty seconds faster than he had predicted.
Synopsis: While celebrating what should be a special occasion, a knock at the door changes everything.
A/N: typed on my phone so there may be errors
It was hot today, the sun beating down on you as you laid out the picnic blanket on the grass. Your blue sundress matched Na-Yeon’s, at the little girls insistence. She loved matching her clothes with you, always making sure you had the same colours on. It made feel grown up, and she’d already firmly decided that when she grew up, she wanted to be just like you. Her crotched strawberry hat had been replaced by a cotton daisy printed one and she sat cross legged on the grass as you set out lunch.
Park Gyeong-Seok couldn’t believe how much his life had changed over the last few months, still couldn’t quite believe that he got to wake up every day and live the dream he’d always wanted. As he slathered extra sun cream on his daughter’s arms and legs, you caught each other’s eyes, smiling. He tactfully tapped his shorts pocket, making sure the ring box was still tucked safely away.
He’d known he wanted to marry you for a while now, and with Na-Yeon’s cancer now stable, he had a little more money to play with. He’d found you the perfect ring, a simple silver band with a single pink zirconia gem set in the middle. It wasn’t anything fancy, but him and Na-Yeon had picked it together, and he hoped you’d realise how special it was. He’d sworn his daughter to secrecy, telling her he was going to ask you to be his wife, and then the three of you could be a proper family. He wasn’t entirely sure she understood completely, but she’d been surprisingly good at the keeping the secret.
“What are you smiling about?” You asked him, settling yourself down on the blanket. Gyeong-Seok had been acting strangely the last few days, a cheesey grin always plastered to his face.
“It’s just a really nice day,” he said, leaning forward to give you a kiss. He was going to wait until after you’d eaten to ask you, but could feel the nerves creeping up on him. He just wanted to hear you say yes.
“In fact,” he said, pulling Na-Yeon onto his lap, “I think Na-Yeon had something she wanted to ask you.”
He looked at his daughter, giving her the nod to say what they’d spent several days practicing.
“Will you marry my daddy?” She asked you, giggling as your jaw dropped.
“What?” You whispered, your hands clapped to your mouth. “Really?”
You’d never imagined this would happen, had never thought he’d be ready to marry again. His ex-wife had left him so heartbroken, and even though you’d never spoken about marriage, you’d always assumed he’d never be ready again.
“Really,” he Gyeong-Seok smiled, pulling the box from his pocket.
“I picked the ring!” Na-Yeon squealed, making sure you knew just how important a job she’d had.
“It’s perfect,” you smiled, tears streaming down your face. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He slipped the ring on your finger, a perfect fit, and pulled you and his daughter into him.
“You have no idea how happy you make me,” he whispered into your hair, squeezing you into his chest.
You couldn’t stop looking at the ring as you ate lunch, the silver band and gem sparkling in the sun. It was so perfectly you, the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. You stared at it the whole way home, Na-Yeon gripping your hand, mesmerised by the way the light caught the pink stone.
You weren’t sure how you’d pay for a wedding, your finances already tight, but you’d marry Gyeong-Seok at a bus stop if you had to. You didn’t need anything fancy; you only needed him.
You were so blissfully wrapped in up the celebrations, so caught up in the love for your fiancé and his daughter, that you almost didn’t hear the doorbell go. You’d just gotteb Na-Yeon down, a struggle that required both you and Gyeong-Seok. She’d been determined to stay awake and celebrate with you, and very loudly rejected the idea of going to bed. She’d finally fallen asleep, through sheer exhaustion, and the two of you had snuck back into the living to open a bottle of wine.
“Are you expecting anyone?” You asked, pulling two wine glasses down from the shelf.
“No,” Gyeong-Seok shook his head, wondering if maybe your friends had arranged for flowers or something to be sent. News had travelled fast, and you’d already had a slew of phone calls and text messages congratulating you.
“You pour the wine, I’ll grab the door,” you smiled. “I bet the girls from the office have sent something.”
You pulled open the front door to find a woman standing in front of you.
“Can I help you?” You asked. She was a short, petite woman with sharp features and long, black hair. She didn’t return the smile you offered, peering around you into the apartment.
“I want to see my daughter,” she snapped, barely acknowledging you.
“I’m sorry,” you said, “I think you’ve got the wrong house.”
“No, I haven’t. Na-Yeon. I want to see Na-Yeon.”
Your blood ran cold, your hand gripping onto the door so hard your knuckles turned white. Gyeong-Seok couldn’t see the figure at the door, but he could tell by your stance that something wasn’t right.
“Is everything ok?” He asked, coming to stand next to you.
He saw the woman standing before him, the woman who had walked out of his life, leaving their daughter without a mother.
“Mi-Na?” He said, his voice no more than a strangled whisper.
This morning, Park Gyeong-Seok’s life had been perfect. And now, in one single second, it had all come crashing down around him once again.
summary: you and yunho have worked together for years, idol and makeup artist, but until today you’ve never touched him skin to skin. when the world tilts on its head from just a brush of his cheek, you realize he’s so much more than a crush, he’s your soulmate.
one | two (*section one); (section two) | three | four
🔗read on ao3✨ across stardust pinterest board
note: i hope everyone enjoys this chapter. it's wildly fluffy and wildly romantic, and then deliciously smutty so i hope everyone enjoys.
tags/warnings: idol!yunho, makeup artist!reader, fem!reader, soulmates au, soulmate identifying marks, soulmate tattoos, tattoed!reader, suggestive language, allusions to a past ex who pressured her into things she wasn't ready for, anxiety etc., and finally the smut; heavy makeouts, grinding, oral f!receiving, convos about oral m!receiving, lots of fingering, lots of cock touching, earth shattering soulmate sex, rough sex, soft!dom/pleasure!dom yunho and wide eyed sub!reader, heavy on the dirty talk, HEAVY on the praise. we got a lot of good girls in this one, and good god tagging for gratuitous use of pet names from yunho. lots of missionary and missionary adjacent positions, spooning sex to idk he's on his back and she's on top but laying on him it's hard to describe but by god is it hot please enjoy
pairings: yunho x reader
genre: fantasy, romance, smut || soulmates au
word count: 28.1k
**this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the second half of this part, here!
The tour ends in Paris of all places. After weeks of concealing your growing relationship with Yunho from everyone, it feels like the universe is rubbing salt in the wound bringing you to the so-called city of love.
For weeks as you hopped city to city, a whirlwind of language and culture and food, you found yourself living for the quiet, stolen moments with him. Quick visits to each other’s hotel rooms and even faster kisses, but never a full night. He hugged you briefly in Amsterdam, left a single rose on your station in Rome, bought you a cashmere scarf in London when the weather took a turn. You catalog these moments in your memory, and scribble down musings in your travel journal, and try not to judge yourself for saving every little scrap of your secret relationship down to the gift receipt in the bottom of the bag and one of the rose petals (pressed dry between the pages of your latest read).
Paris feels different though. Everywhere you look there are couples snuggled close in the winter chill, and though you aren’t necessarily one for public displays of affection, seeing it like this makes your heart ache. You’d at least like the option. But despite his little gifts, you and Yunho have been doing your best to be subtle, mitigating even the smallest glances, and getting to know him over text. It wasn’t enough, but you could cope, until now. Until this city. You weren’t supposed to walk through a city this romantic alone, not when your soulmate was a few blocks away in a hotel room. You were supposed to be with him.
He feels your ache though, and you feel his.
Besides, it’s almost, almost over.
In Paris, you all have an extra two days to account for the end of the tour and flights home, and the electric energy of being almost finished and almost home has everyone buzzing. The members are jittery with anticipation but so is the staff, so close to being back home and in the arms of their loved ones and with a belly full of Korean food.
On the last show, after soundcheck runs perfectly smoothly and the pre-show rituals have all been checked off without a hitch, it goes to shit. Venue delays, an issue outside getting the fans inside, leaving the stadium only half full at the call time.
It’s not the first time this has happened of course, but it is the first time for this tour and to have it happen on the last day leaves everyone groaning.
“They couldn’t tell us this twenty minutes ago?” Hongjoong asks one of your production team.
They had been moments away from starting the introduction lights and music, the boys had already gotten up onto their rising platforms when a member of the venue staff had jogged all the way backstage waving her arms and trying to explain in a mix of French and English that they had to wait.
“They said thirty minutes,” The staff member replies, “we won’t have to make any cuts, but anything over an hour we’ll need to start,”
“Fuck,” Hongjoong’s jaw tightens, “Sorry, I apologize,”
The boys are gathered tightly around management and the production staff and you, Iseul, and the other members of makeup and hair step forwards to listen in.
You can’t quite catch all of the conversation, but then there’s some nodding in the center circle and Sunhee, the head of tour production, turns and addresses everyone as they shuffle into a semi-circle around him, “Alright, we’re running on a thirty delay,”
Everyone nods.
“If we hit 60, we’re electing to cut Deja Vu, Silver Light, DLWB, and Eternal Sunshine,” He explains, “We’ll shift Wave into the 8th block behind Dreamy Day, yes?”
Everyone nods again.
“That’s a setup we’re already prepared for, correct?” He addresses the sound team who nods, and then looks to every other team who follows suit before he continues, “If we need to cut more, we need to be prepared for a lot of small changes. It’s possible we lose Win and Fireworks, and that’s not something we want to do. Everyone needs to be on strict standby until we get rolling, I don’t want to be looking for anyone in the bathroom or finding out someone stepped out for a smoke, clear?”
There’s a chorus of responses.
“If you need a break, do it in the next five. Every ten until lights, we’re right here.” He’s a clear, no nonsense leader, but everyone has their marching orders.
The group breaks up after that, several staff hurrying off to the bathrooms now and a couple of the BB Trippin dancers slipping out the back access door for a cigarette.
The members are talking amongst themselves in a tighter circle, planning choreography changes and ment changes to tighten up the time, and you try your best to not look at Yunho for more than a passing glance. His back is to you, and you ache to reach out and see how he’s doing, ease the bubble of stress you feel in your gut, but you can’t.
Iseul bumps you gently with her hip and nods her head back towards your stations. Dahan and Eunji are back, thankfully, having gotten over Covid fairly quickly and started testing negative, and the four of you huddle up to do your own planning session.
“This doesn’t change much for us except how fast we work,” Iseul says, “we can make some strategic cuts around the unit stages too, no added eye enhancements, keep the focus on skin, lips, and brows.”
“Done,” Dahan nods and then settles back into the chair at her station, “I don’t think there’s much more we can do,”
Iseul nods, “It’s not a makeup heavy set,”
Eunji collapses into her own chair and pops open an energy drink, “That just means their foundation has to look better,”
“They look good,” You assure her, “and lord knows we use enough setting spray,”
Eunji laughs and takes a swig of her drink, her carefully manicured nails clicking against the aluminum can as drops it back down on the table, “Hmm,” her leg bounces nervously, “we should check them again,”
“They’re fine,” Iseul says, “plus, wardrobe has them.”
You look back up, and sure enough the wardrobe team is fluttering around them as they talk, taking every opportunity to re-steam a jacket or fix a pant hemline.
You lean back against the long table of snacks and water bottles along the one white wall and watch the chaos, your fingers drumming restlessly along the lip of the table.
“Hey!” One of the wardrobe staff leaps forwards and you look up, “Don’t sit on the couch, I’ll just have to press those pants again!”
Wooyoung leaps up from the couch and groans, “Sorry, sorry,”
“Let me check you,” She inspects his pants with a sharp gaze, “these crease too easily,”
Wooyoung cracks a joke you don’t hear, but everyone within earshot is laughing and you smile at the scene. You’ve all worked together for so long it really does feel a bit like family.
Staff starts to gather back up, and Sunhee makes another clear announcement, “Still running on a thirty,”
Everyone echoes back their understanding.
Now there’s nothing to do but wait. Chewing the inside of your lip you fish your phone out of your brush belt pocket and idly scroll, flicking through photo after photo on Instagram and barely absorbing any of it.
A body shifts in your periphery and you look up to see Yunho, leaning on the table next to you but leaving an appropriate amount of space between your bodies. His head is angled away from you, talking animatedly to San about something, and though you know he’s ignoring you on purpose you also know he sat here for a reason.
Your chest warms, and so does his.
Feeling him this close feels like you’re standing in a rising tide, the sensation of him filling the space around you so wholly and completely, and you know if you were to just surrender to it would carry you right out to sea.
San’s eyes flick to yours, “What about you?”
You blink, “Hmm?” You might have been looking in their direction but not a single word made it into your brain.
San’s eyebrow quirks up in amusement, “That dance challenge with Bada, have you seen it?”
“Oh,” You nod, realizing what trend they’re talking about on Tiktok, “yeah, for sure, it’s everywhere right now,”
“I’m trying to get Yunho to do it with me,” He explains, “it’s cool right? I think we’d kill it,”
Yunho swivels his head to look in your direction and your stomach flips and you fight to keep your face somewhat professional and neutral when you nod, “It’s definitely cool, a lot of idols are doing it, you should,”
“Well,” He smiles, his expression warm, “I guess I’ll have to,”
San snorts softly, and you wonder briefly if he involved you in the conversation because he knew Yunho would cave if you said something.
The moment is short though, when Wooyoung cuts between San and Yunho, “Budge over I need a water,”
Yunho slides to the side just a few inches, but it’s enough to feel the heat of his body from shoulder to thigh as he gets closer to you and your breath quickens. Even after a few weeks, his proximity still makes you feel a dizzy kind of elation and you swallow tightly to keep your own reactions under wraps.
“You good?” Yunho’s focused on Wooyoung’s serious expression though.
“My calf keeps cramping,” He complains, uncapping a water bottle and locating a packet of electrolytes to pour into it.
“You need to stretch,” San says, “drink that and come here,”
Wooyoung grumbles something and Yunho chuckles.
“Yeah, yeah,” San rolls his eyes, “don’t complain when you know I’m right,”
“Fine,” Wooyoung downs the water bottle, drinking half of it in three thirsty gulps and then spins on his heel to follow San to the far wall that’s empty.
For a moment, Yunho doesn’t move.
You stay frozen in place, unsure of exactly what to do, if you should move or if you should let him move, but he makes the decision for you.
The back of his knuckles brush along yours for just a moment, and then he’s up again and walking towards his members. Your heart flutters, and you’re sure he can feel it with the way he looks at you, just one quick glance back before he starts stretching again with Wooyoung and San.
You’ll have to add that one to your notes then, he brushed your hand in Paris.
Blissfully, they announce again that the delay is only going to be thirty minutes. No cuts to the show, no panic. In ten minutes everything will start and you’ll be one step closer to home.
In the wings at the new call time, you prep them again with a final pat of powder, smoothing out any whisper of a pore. When they move past you, Yunho’s hand brushes yours again, and you wonder if he knows he’s doing it. It feels unconscious the way he gravitates towards you, and though he keeps the contact decidedly subtle, you can feel the way his nervousness eases with just a touch of your skin on his.
You watch him as he jogs out to the stage risers, you can’t quite tear your eyes away. He’s so handsome, so commanding of the stage, so unlike the soft, gentle man you’ve come to know off screen. You’re starting to really love them both, or perhaps you already do, and quietly you send him as much warmth and confidence through the link as you can.
His eyes flick over to the wings, a flash of a smile on his lips, but then he refocuses and adjusts his in-ears, and the risers lift into the roar of the crowd once again.
Your eyes track him as he goes up, and sensation bursts through the link from his side, only this time it doesn’t take you down to your knees. You’ve gotten used to it the past few shows, and now it just rings in your body like background noise.
A hand closes around your forearm and pulls, yanking you out of your dazed thoughts, and you whirl to catch Iseul’s serious expression.
“Come with me,” She murmurs lowly, “right now.”
Your stomach twists but you keep the panic to a minimum, you can’t do this to him again. Following her to the backstage door, she grabs her coat and tugs it on and throws you yours. She tugs you outside before you can even properly get your arms through the sleeves and you yank your arm back, “What’s going on?”
“You’re asking me?” She says quietly even though the stage door is shut tight and there’s no one in sight, “Are you kidding?”
She shoves a hand into her pocket and fishes out a pack of cigarettes, ones that she usually only smokes after a few drinks, “I started to think in Amsterdam that it was one of them,”
Your stomach sinks like a stone.
She sparks the lighter and leans in to light the smoke, “You were watching them differently,”
“Iseul,”
“But, I guess it’s Yunho, isn’t it?” She takes a drag and levels you with a serious expression.
“Please,” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, she’s your best friend, but the fear of the unknown still crushes your chest, “don’t,”
“He watches you too,” She says, “I wasn’t sure at first, he’s always been friendly with us, but this is different,”
“I don’t know what to say,” You manage.
“How about you don’t lie to your best friend,” She takes another drag, “that would be a good start,”
“It’s not what you think,” You step closer.
“I don’t think you know what I think,”
“Iseul,” You wrap your arms around yourself.
“Fine,” She tips the ash off the end of the cigarette and pushes her pin straight hair back over her shoulder, “I’ll tell you what I think,”
You stay silent, stomach tight.
“You’ve been weird,” She says, “I’ve never seen you act like this over a guy, and I really doubt you just noticed him for the first time, so either you’re an excellent liar or you’re in love with him,”
You blanch.
“And if you’re in love with him,” She points out, “so suddenly after years, then there’s more to it. So I started paying attention,”
She takes a long drag of her cigarette and sighs out the smoke.
“You’ve been sneaking off,” She points out, “checking your phone constantly,”
Your eyes flick down to the pavement.
“But the weirdest part,” She says, “is that you’ve been changing in the bathroom and we’ve been friends for years. I’ve seen your tits like a hundred times,”
Your head snaps up.
“You’ve been too happy lately for it to be something bad,” She says, her voice softening a bit, “so it’s something good, something like your mark changing.”
”Iseul,” Your voice comes out weakly.
“Fuck,” She looks over your expression, “he’s your soulmate,”
“We didn’t know,” You stumble through the words, “I swear, we didn’t,”
“I believe you,” She nods, “I just want to know why you couldn’t tell me. I’m your best friend, I would have helped you, I wouldn’t… I would never tell anyone,”
“I know,” You reach for her, “I know you wouldn’t do that.”
“Then why?” She pulls her wrist from your touch and ashes her cigarette again, “Because it really hurts that you couldn’t trust me with this.”
“It’s not that,” You press, and it pours out of you, “we don’t even know what we’re doing. It’s really overwhelming, everything I’m feeling and he’s feeling, and then there’s the contracts and the job and the fucking public, and I just… I don’t know what to do, we don’t know what to do. We decided to wait until we got back to Korea to figure it out properly,”
She nods.
“I was going to tell you as soon as I got the nerve up,” You promise, “I haven’t even called Hana,”
Her eyes widen at the confession that you haven’t told your sister after weeks, “Babe,”
“If you know,” You manage, “and she knows, then it’s happening, and I,”
Iseul flicks her cigarette to the curb and throws her arms around you, tugging you close for a hug, “Oh, you nervous idiot,”
“I promise,” You hug her back, “I was going to tell you,”
“Don’t you want it to be real?” She murmurs the question, “It’s your soulmate,”
“I do,” You nod, “I want him, it’s just,”
She rubs your back as you sigh.
”It could be easier,” You finally admit, “if he wasn’t who he is, then it would be simple.”
She nods and pulls back from the hug, giving you a final squeeze, “Simple’s for fairytales,”
“I guess,”
“We’ll work it out,” She nods, “I’ll help.”
“I should have told you weeks ago,” You confess.
“Probably,” She nods, “I would have helped cover for you at least,”
You smile, “Yeah?”
“Totally,” She nods.
You sigh into the cold air, your breath making a cloud of vapor.
She pushes her hands into her coat pockets and then stops, “Who else knows?”
“San, he saw it when we touched,” You tell her and her eyes widen, “and Seonghwa… he found us in bed that morning in Berlin,”
“I’ll be mad about them knowing before me later,” Her nose crinkles, “but that’s good, let’s keep the circle small for now.”
“Definitely,” You nod, “we want to tell people, but just not… it’s better at home,”
She chews the inside of her lip, sighing and pulling out another cigarette, “You haven’t slept together?”
“Not yet,”
As she lights the second cigarette her eyebrow quirks up, “So you’re just tormenting yourselves for fun, or?”
Iseul was, without a doubt, the biggest believer in soulmates you’ve ever met. Everyone in her family was lucky enough to have found their match young, from her parents to her siblings, but she’s been waiting. Out of anyone without a soulmate though, she knew exactly how difficult the time between initial touch and fulfillment of the bond was.
“We nearly did,”
“And?” She takes a drag.
“He wanted to do it right,” You explain, your cheeks heating.
She nods, “He seems like that type,”
Your gut tightens and you exhale, “I was also a little terrified,”
“You and relationships,”
“This is different,” You cross your arms.
Iseul smirks at your sudden defensiveness, “I know it is,” she says, “but it’s still freaking you out, obviously,”
“It was,” You admit, “maybe it is, but not in the way you’re thinking.” The logistics have you stressed beyond belief, but him? Those fears have been fading fast since that first night.
“So, you do love him,” She smiles, flicking away her half smoked cigarette.
All you can do is nod.
Iseul softens at that, after so many years of friendship and watching each other try relationships on for size. Every almost match that withered into nothing, every missed connection, every late night wondering.
“I’m happy for you both,” She says earnestly, reaching for the door and clearing her throat to shove away the emotion there, “but I swear if you lie to me again,”
You laugh, “Got it.”
She punches in the key code to the door and twists the handle when it goes green, but then she stops short, “Listen, we’ll talk about the rest later, but you’ve got to tone it down with him in there. No more longing looks, no more little touches, if I saw you someone else will too.”
Your stomach twists, “Fuck,”
“It’s fine,” She says, “I was looking for it, but eventually someone’s going to notice.”
“Okay, you’re right” You nod.
“Let’s get back in there,” She pulls the door back open and you stumble inside.
Everyone is gathering up again for the first costume change, and you do your best to shake off the conversation. Iseul squeezes your shoulder once, and then slips back to her station like nothing ever happened.
You don’t look at him again the rest of the show.
Iseul’s warning lives in your mind and you try to keep some distance. You give him the same polite congratulations on the tour that you give to every member, ignoring the little crease between his brows when he realizes you’re being funny.
At the team dinner, you keep to the far side of the table and keep the soju to a minimum.
You ignore the buzzing phone in your pocket and his quick glances.
Iseul keeps you busy, keeps you steady.
You don’t let yourself look at the text messages on your phone until you’re back in your hotel room and able to finally relax. A string of texts from him make your heart twist.
everything alright?
you seem tense, did something happen during the show?
alright now i know you’re avoiding me….. jagi, what did i do? tell me so i can fix whatever it is
you look so beautiful tonight, i wish i was across the table from you. i wish we didn’t have to hide this. i wish you’d tell me what’s wrong so i can make it better.
let me know you get to your room safely.
“You good?” Iseul asks as she flops back on her bed, “You look freaked,”
“Yunho,” You pass her the phone so she can see for herself.
She skims the messages quietly, one eyebrow raising, “Girl,” she looks up at you, “I said be subtle, not emotionally terrify your new boyfriend,”
Your cheeks heat, “He’s not my boyfriend,”
“Yeah he is,” Iseul rolls her eyes and tosses your phone back, “and the sooner you accept that this is good for you, the sooner you can get a handle on this with him and actually make a plan,”
Chewing the inside of your lip you sink down onto the edge of your own bed, “I keep fucking this up,”
She shakes her head, “You’re fine, but you’re also wound so tight some strings are bound to break. Call him,”
“He’s probably so pissed at me,” You breathe.
“He’s probably worried,” She counters, “but babe, he’s not any of your shitty exes. At some point you have to stop being scared that every guy is going to break your heart, especially this one.”
“Ouch,” You grimace at her words.
“Am I wrong?”
You sigh heavily and run a hand through your hair, of course she wasn’t wrong. Iseul had watched you couple up time and time again only for it to be another failed attempt at not being alone. That combined with your only significant relationship being littered with gaslighting, cheating, and a truly terrible sex life meant she wouldn’t let you settle, or let a good thing pass you by just because of your anxiety and less than stellar history with the opposite sex.
“Call him,” She interrupts your thoughts again.
You swallow tightly, but at her unwavering gaze you finally look down and press the call button next to his contact picture, pressing the phone to your ear, your fingers drumming nervously on your knee.
Yunho picks up on the second ring, “Baby?”
He doesn’t sound mad at all, all you hear is relief in his voice and your shoulders drop, “Hey,”
“Are you okay? What’s going on?” You hear the rustle of sheets on his side as he sits up.
“Nothing,” You let out the air trapped in your chest, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,”
He’s quiet for a second, but then he speaks up, “I can feel your stress, y/n,”
You wonder how heavily it’s pouring out of you for him to feel it so clearly through the link.
He takes a slow breath and then continues, “If it’s something I did, I’d like to know so we can talk about it. If it’s something else, I’m here,”
There’s a brush of warmth against your mark, and all your tension starts to melt, “You didn’t do anything wrong, Yunho, I promise.”
“Okay,” He murmurs, letting you know he’s listening, waiting for more.
You look up and meet Iseul’s gaze. She nods at you, waving her hand towards you in a ‘get on with it’ motion, silently pushing you through this.
“Iseul knows about us,” You tell him in a nervous exhale, “she noticed we were being familiar, that there was something going on,”
Sheets rustle again and Yunho clears his throat, “Oh,” he says, “I mean, you’re friends aren’t you? Is she upset?”
You open your mouth to say more, but Iseul groans and pushes herself off the bed, snatching the phone from your ear and taking over the call. You jump up to grab it back, but she holds you back with one arm outstretched and a growing smile on her face.
“Yunho?” She says, “It’s Iseul,”
You hear a short response from Yunho, but you can’t make out the individual words he says.
“Of course I’m not upset,” Iseul says, “I’m honestly really, really happy for you both, even if I had to figure it out myself,”
You watch as Iseul listens to his reply and she laughs sharply.
“Yeah, you two giving each other puppy eyes for the last few weeks was not subtle, no,”
Another beat, and you nudge her side, whispering, “Iseul,”
“No, no,” She shakes her head and steps away from you to keep talking to him, “I told y/n this, but I was looking for it. She was acting weird so I knew something was up, but I just wanted you both to be careful in front of everyone,”
Yunho says something you can’t hear and Iseul nods to herself.
”She’s okay,” Iseul looks back to you, a soft expression in her eyes now, “you’ll learn this, but she’s a little skittish.”
“Iseul!”
She rolls her eyes at you, but listens to him and nods again, “Listen,” she finally says, “I’m going to give the phone back to your girl, but before I do I just want to remind you that she’s my best friend. I think you’re a good guy, Yunho, but if you so much as make her cry, I’ll kill you. Clear?”
His reply is short and she laughs.
“Good,” Iseul grins, “she deserves someone good, and I know you can be that person for her.”
You reach out your hand for the phone again, needing to talk to him and pull your best friend back from whatever emotional speech she might let loose next.
“I’m glad,” Iseul says, “now let me put y/n back on, I think she’s about to have an aneurism.”
You can hear Yunho’s laugh as she passes back the phone and you take it eagerly, “Hi, god, I’m so sorry about that,”
Iseul laughs and walks towards the bathroom to wind down and do her skincare and give you a brief moment of privacy, and you spin and walk towards the far end of the room near the window.
“It’s fine,” Yunho sounds warm and not at all upset, “I’m glad you have a friend like her,”
“Still,” You curl up into the armchair, “I didn’t mean to act so weird today or to corner you like this after such a long show,”
“Don’t apologize,” He soothes you, “I know this is a lot, and Iseul’s right, we need to be careful if we want to do this the right way,”
“Yeah,” You sigh, “still, I could have texted you and told you. I just got nervous,”
“I know,” He murmurs, “but in the future, you don’t have to be alone in that. I’m your guy.”
A smile tugs at your lips, “You are?”
“Mhm,” He says softly, “you don’t have to handle anything alone anymore, jagi.”
Tightness sinks into your throat and you nod, pushing back the telltale sign of tears, “I’d like that,”
“Good,” He murmurs, “now are you up for doing me a favor?”
“A favor?” Your brow furrows, “What’s wrong?”
“Not wrong,” He sounds so relaxed, so comfortable, and it puts you at ease, “but get your coat and map yourself to the location I’m sending you,”
“What?” You laugh, feeling your phone buzz as his text comes through.
“We’ll keep our distance,” He assures you, “but sweetheart, it’s snowing, and I am not missing the first snow with my soulmate in Paris,” he emphasizes, “so bundle up and get out here.”
You pull the curtain to the side, and sure enough there’s snow swirling in the air, falling in soft fluffy flakes.
“Oh, wow,” You breathe, taking in how a white blanket has already started to thicken up on the streets outside.
“Call me back when you get there,” He says, “okay?”
“Yeah,” You smile, soft warmth spreading through your body, “I’m on my way,”
You’re a whirlwind as you tug your coat back on, lacing up your boots and searching your bag for a pair of gloves. Iseul gives you one look when she sees you getting ready, but she smiles, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,”
“I won’t be long, I’m sure,”
She shrugs, “Be safe,”
“I will,”
She searches for something on the side table and tosses it to you, a small black piece of fabric, “Mask, don’t forget,”
“Got it,” You nod, affixing the mask to your face. The likelihood of you being photographed in Paris during a snowstorm when you weren’t even going to be next to Yunho was close to zero, but the risk wouldn’t be worth it.
“Go get your man,” She arches her brow suggestively and you groan, rolling your eyes and darting out of the hotel room before she can embarrass you anymore.
As quickly as you can, you map yourself to the pinned spot he sent and start walking. It’s hard to tell from the map, but as you get closer to the spot a few streets up from your hotel on the far side of the Seine you realize this is all it is, a street corner by the edge of the bridge.
There’s barely anyone around, especially with the weather, and you can’t see Yunho anywhere.
Tucking your coat closed around you, you find your phone and follow Yunho’s instructions.
He picks up your call immediately, “You there?” he asks, his voice sounding a little muffled.
“Yeah,” You breathe, looking around to see if you can spot him now, “Are you coming?”
“I’m already here,” He says, “look up, across the river under the light by the steps,”
You step close to the stone railing at the edge of the river, and sure enough under the street lamp directly opposite your corner, Yunho stands unmistakably tall under the light. You can’t make out the details of him from this far away, the river is wide enough that he could be just about anyone at this distance, but then the figure waves.
You can hear the smile in Yunho’s voice when he says, “Hi, baby,”
“Hey,” You relax into the railing, your stomach flipping pleasantly. You’re still not used to the way he’s tender with you, his pet names and how easily he sunk into being soulmates, but you trust him. It doesn’t matter how fast or how hard you’re falling, despite those fluttering nerves, you know he’s going to catch you, you feel it.
He hums pleasantly through the phone and you imagine him smiling, “Take a walk with me?” he asks brightly.
“Love to,” You murmur.
“I have a surprise for you,” He says, “it’s just around the bend of the river,”
“How did you have time to do anything? We just got to Paris last night,” The figure across the river starts to walk and so you follow, slowly making your way up the length of the river by the stone railing.
“Don’t get too excited,” He laughs softly, “I didn’t do anything,”
“Mhm,” The air is crisp and sharp, and you take in a deep breath, “I love snow,”
“Me too,”
“People always say I’m crazy, but I prefer winter over summer,”
“I do too,” He says, and you can almost picture him smiling, “I hate the heat,”
There’s a natural lull, a gentle pause in conversation, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. You feel his presence with you as if he were walking right at your side, and it keeps you warmer than any scarf or padded coat.
Finally, Yunho breaks the companionable silence, “I always try to take a long walk in a new city,”
“Late night, like this?” You ask.
“It’s usually the only time I have,” He sighs, “I’m getting used to exploring places by street lamp,”
“I’d like to actually explore here during the day,” You say, “I’ve always wanted to come here,”
“Where else have you always wanted to go?”
You step around a couple nestled close together near the wall and continue on, boots crunching on the layer of snow ahead of you, “Everywhere,” you admit, “but I don’t know, there’s more of America to see, and I’ve never been to Australia. Vietnam maybe, or, oh, Iceland, I’d like to see the northern lights.”
“I’d love to take you there someday,”
“Take another long walk in the snow,” You offer, glancing across the river. It takes you a moment to find him as you both pass through a busier spot, but you see him pass under another street lamp and your heart is back at ease.
“y/n,” Yunho says after a beat, “are you sure you’re alright with Iseul knowing about us?”
You swap your phone to your opposite hand, tucking your frozen fingers into your pocket and nod even though he can’t really see that from this far away, “I am, she’s my best friend, I should have just told her.”
“I don’t think either one of us knows what we’re doing,” He reminds you, “and that’s okay.”
“Mm,” You sigh, a heavy cloud of vapor blooming in the icy air, “I do know one thing,”
“What’s that?”
Your stomach flutters nervously, but you press on, “I haven’t felt this happy or this cared for in a long time,”
He’s quiet for a moment, and then you hear his breath, “I feel the same way,”
“I just want to be on the plane now,” You admit, “at least then we’d be almost home,”
“Well,” He says, “don’t wish for it too soon,”
“What do you,” You start to say but he swiftly cuts back in.
“Look to your left, sweetheart,” He says warmly.
Your head snaps up, and you turn only to have the breath knocked out of you by this city yet again. There, across the river and beyond a large bridge in the distance is the Eiffel Tower, standing golden against the night sky.
“Oh,” You breathe.
“Wait for it,” He murmurs.
“What did you do?” You can’t stop yourself from grinning like a fool, but you expect that’s a common experience for tourists in love in this city.
“I didn’t do anything,” He laughs, “I just got the timing right, just wait,”
You step closer to the wide bridge, ornate with golden statues and arched to offer ferry boats passage underneath. All the while you keep your eyes locked to the tower, and blink away the dust of snow collecting on your eyelashes.
“Yunho,”
“Just,” He starts to say, his voice getting far away as if he moved the phone, “another minute,”
You tuck your scarf up around your face and wait, and then it starts to glitter. Blocks away but still standing tall before you in the distance, the golden monument starts to sparkle with the fast flicker of silvery lights.
“Oh,” You breathe, “I didn’t think I’d see it,”
“Mhm,” He murmurs, “you might have mentioned it in London,”
“Did I?” You can’t tear your eyes away.
“I’m sorry I can’t take you there properly,” He confesses, “or anywhere properly yet, but, someday I will,”
The glittering stops and you finally look away to try and find him again across the bridge, only he’s closer now and walking directly along your side of the bridge towards you. Your feet are moving before you can convince yourself otherwise, a magnetic pull straight to him.
The bridge is thankfully quiet, barely anyone on either side, and you both stop in the middle, both of your phones tucked into your respective pockets.
“Hi,” His eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles beneath his mask.
“Hey,” You sigh, “should we be doing this?”
“No one’s here,” He says, stepping closer, “just one minute,”
You nod, “One minute,”
“Listen,” He says, his hand brushing against yours again, “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too,”
Your heartbeat quickens.
“But we are almost home,” He says, “and once we’re there, we will make a plan. We will make this work, and I promise you, I’m more afraid of losing you than of losing all this,” he gestures towards the city around you.
“There’s got to be a way, other people who have done this,” You nod.
“We’ll find out,” He assures you, “just please, don’t pull away from me when things get hard or if you’re afraid. You can rely on me, you can trust me, I swear to you, y/n.”
You can feel the nervous knot in his chest, and you step close, resting a hand where you know his soulmark loops on his chest. When you let yourself feel him, focus on him, it’s clear to you just how anxious about your growing relationship he’s been. Soulmates or not you still have to walk the path together, and of the two of you, you’ve been less clear. His gestures, his gifts, the way he’s tried his best over the past few weeks to show you his true feelings and intentions, but you haven’t given him enough back to soothe that knot in his chest.
“Baby,” The endearment slips out and you feel him soften under your touch, “I’m here, I’m with you. I’m so fucking terrified, but not of you or of this.”
Snow sticks to his lashes, swirls in the air around you, but his exhale of ragged breath isn’t the cold, it’s relief.
“I’m worried I’m going to fuck it up somehow, of what will happen when people find out,” You confess, “and I’m so scared you’ll wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth the mess,”
“y/n,” He shakes his head, reaching for your cheek.
“I know, I know,” You catch his hand against your face, press a fast kiss to his palm through the fabric of your mask, “it’s just a fear, I just want you to understand where my head has been,”
He nods, a little crease between his brows.
“But I do trust you,” You tell him, “more than anyone, and I’ve been alone a long time, so I’m learning how to let myself rely on you, but I’ve never doubted you. Not before and definitely not now,”
“Come here,” He tucks your bodies together and tugs his mask down, “kiss me,”
You pull yours away, and you press up on your tiptoes to meet his eager mouth.
His nose is cold, and his fingers are icy against your cheek, but his lips are warm and soft and his broad body blocks the gust of wind and snow.
The knot of anxiety in his chest starts to ease, and you brush your fingers over his mark to seal your own promise back to him.
“Sweetheart, I,” He sighs, kissing you once more, letting his words fade on his tongue, “thank you.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t said it like that before,” You say, “but I’m here,”
He nods, a soft smile on his mouth, and he leans over to kiss you once more in the snowy Paris street, the golden glow of the Eiffel tower still in your periphery.
When he pulls back, he rights his mask and you follow his lead, “It’s cold, let’s get back inside,” he says.
You can barely feel it, but you nod, “Okay,”
“Call me again,” He squeezes your hand once and then lets it drop, “I’ll walk you back,”
You smile, finding your phone and dialing him.
Yunho pulls his phone out, and starts to walk back across the bridge, but then he picks up, “Hello?”
“Hey, again,” You walk backwards slowly, watching him as he tucks the phone closer to his ear.
“Hi,” He says warmly, and then he turns to catch sight of you when he says, “I just met the prettiest girl in Paris,”
Butterflies roll through you, “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm,” He murmurs, “I think I’m falling for her,”
Easy warmth spreads through your chest despite the chill, “That’s so funny,” you tell him as you turn to round the corner of the bridge again, “I just met this guy,”
He laughs, and slowly you make your way back to the hotel. The conversation comes more easily now, the lingering threads of any tension dissipating with the wind. You talk about everything and nothing, how to tell the members and what you’re planning to have for coffee in the morning, and by the time you’re at the hotel the snow has slowed to a stop and the streets are empty except for you both, two long-distance lovers across the Seine.
The final day in Paris passes by in a blur just like the plane home. It’s always like this after a tour, the absolute exhaustion after weeks of adrenaline and travel, but this time all you want is to be home and it feels like you’re doing the epitome of just going through the motions to get there.
Yunho had texted you to sleep well on the flight, and you did, only to be shaken awake hours and hours later by Iseul when you were preparing to land. You had only woken up for one of the flight meals and a quick bathroom break, but now as you descend into Incheon you’re itching to get out of the seat more than you normally would be.
Home.
You can see it out the window, but you can feel it too.
Up until this moment, everything with you and Yunho had been on a delay, the reality of what you were to each other only something to fully reckon with after the tour, and now here you were.
Your fingers start to nervously drum against your knee as you prepare for landing, your heart picking up as you touch down, your leg bouncing in anticipation while the plane takes its time taxing to the gate.
Iseul gives your hand a squeeze when you finally make it off the plane and into the interior of the airport, only this time it’s not to calm your nerves, it's to remind you that you have a role to play. Today the crowd is thick, rows and rows of screaming, clawing girls and you feel your heart rate pick up immediately. They’re not here for you, they could honestly care less about you, but you still have to make your way through them as quickly and painlessly as possible.
The support staff is always split, half in front of the boys and half behind, an extra layer of bodies between them and the hands that so badly want to touch them. Girls that want their one moment, a quick press of skin on skin, seeking a confirmation of the bond they’re so convinced exists between them and their bias. It’s never bothered you before, just a hazard of being famous, but now you can’t help but feel like they know. One look at you and they can see right through all the careful lies, they can see your tattoo and his, a string knotted from your ribs to his, and you think they might kill you for it. It wouldn’t be the first time a deranged fan took things too far, and your stomach churns with every step as you leave the relative safety of the main gate.
Getting from the plane to the cars is a well oiled production. You’re used to sticking close to your team and a set of the support staff, head down, hat low, moving swiftly. There’s not much you can do about it unless you happen to be on a different flight, which has happened a time or two while you’ve been working with Ateez but it’s rare.
For weeks since you first felt the link between you and Yunho, you’ve been able to feel some echo of his emotions through the connection, but as you file off the plane and group up to start working through the crowd, the sensation of him goes quiet. You’ve seen the members as they walk, a crafted persona of friendliness over the full disassociation, but you never expected to feel some shadow of that yourself. Your nerves are swirling, but you take a few slow and steadying breaths, and alongside Iseul and the rest of your coworkers, you start walking.
It should be quick, it should be painless, but it isn’t.
Halfway to the doors, a body breaks through the guards to your side, making a desperate beeline for one of the boys behind you, the girl’s face streaked with tears and hands outstretched, her shoulder checking yours hard as she pushes her way through into the interior circle.
You stumble hard, footing unsure on the slick linoleum, your heart pounding suddenly in your chest.
You make a tight noise of surprise, hand outstretched to brace your fall as you collapse hard onto your left knee. Bodies bump into you on all sides, stumbling to not knock you over and trample you, but you still struggle to get your feet under you.
It’s loud in here, the sudden sound of fans and bodyguards, but you feel a spike of alarm shoot through your gut as he comes back online and reacts to your fall. You can’t turn around, but you feel him, and then all at once there’s hands hooking under your arms and you’re stumbling back up to your feet.
Yunho’s several paces back behind you, layers of bodies away, but despite that he lurches forwards, forgetting himself in the fray. There’s no cameras, no crowd, no thought of familiarity in his mind, only the singular truth that his soulmark is hurt and the need to get to you is all encompassing. A hard hand locks down on his bicep, another on his opposite shoulder. He has half a mind to throw whoever has him off, and then reality clicks back into place.
He watches as Iseul and one of the other managers hauls you back up to your feet while the bodyguards close ranks and remove the cloying girl.
San, his hand still locked around Yunho’s arm, leans in tight to his ear, “She’s fine, don’t.”
“You don’t,” Yunho starts to say but Seonghwa claps him on the shoulder again, squeezing him and trying to silently remind him the stakes here.
“Look,” San urges him as they keep moving, “she’s up, use your head.”
He focuses, and he watches the way you walk. Iseul is still pinned to your side but you’re not injured, just keeping your head down. He takes a tight breath and focuses on the feeling of the link, searching for your emotions under the bubbling rush of his own.
Seonghwa’s hand falls away as the group makes it closer to the door, but San stays steady bracing Yunho’s bicep.
Yunho blinks and focuses, and then he feels you. Your own heart is beating fast, a blanket of anxiety mixed with discomfort and blushing embarrassment. There’s no fear though, no pain, and he shudders a sigh in relief.
This kind of connection with another person is so singular and so maddening. He’s always cared for you, he would have wanted to help even if you weren’t his soulmate, but knowing that you are and feeling it all has him ready to tear the world apart for your smallest needs. He can understand now with perfect clarity why companies are so protective of skin on skin contact with their artists, why there’s no room for exceptions until positions are far more established. A young man with a soulmarked bond would ruin every scrap of his own career if it meant he could touch her, hold her, have her for just a moment.
“Breathe,” San bids him, “you’re staring,”
Yunho rips his eyes away from your back and looks to San, “It’s too much,”
San gives him a wide, idol smile and shakes his head, “Cameras, Yunho,”
He blinks and refocuses, finding his own photogenic smile and nodding towards the crowd. He waves, he nods, he does all the things a good little idol would do.
Warmth brushes over his chest, the feeling of your fingers along the loops of your tattoo and the tight fist around his heart loosens, breath finally filling his lungs the right way. Silently, you’ve told him you’re safe, you’re well. He can breathe.
You’re in separate cars though, and as you climb into the SUV with the rest of the makeup and hair staff, your hands start to shake.
“You okay?” Iseul finally asks as the doors close.
“Mm,” You sigh, leaning back into the soft seat, “I hate those crowds,”
She nods, “Security should have never let that girl get through,”
“She just pushed me aside,” You rub your tired eyes, “I can’t even believe someone would be that unhinged,”
“Mhm,” Iseul rolls her eyes, “well, when it’s her one chance to see if her precious Yunho-ya is her star crossed soulmate,”
A flicker of jealous anger sparks in your gut, “Is that who she was after?”
“Yeah,” A look of disgust passes over her face, “as if fate would actually match up an idol and a saesang, get real.”
You laugh, and someone else makes a comment about how cruel it would be if that actually happened, but you and Iseul are sharing a private look. Of course none of those girls are his soulmark, not when you’re sitting right here.
You shiver, you can’t stop thinking about the girl’s tear streaked face as she shoved you to the side. What would a fan like that think about you being her bias’s soulmate? You don’t even want to know.
The car pulls away, and you feel your phone start to buzz in your pocket. You fish it out and keep it close so no one next to you can see the screen.
Your body melts at the message.
Are you hurt, jagiya?
You tap out a quick reply, needing to not keep him waiting - I’m alright, it just startled me.
Bubbles pop up immediately as he types - I’ll have a talk with security, there’s no reason for staff to be that close to the fans like that. Too risky.
You’re in love with him already, it’s impossible not to be when he talks like this. You smile and write back - Don’t, we shouldn’t draw any attention. But it means a lot that you were worried about me.
Of course I worry - His first message flies in, and then another - I felt you fall, I nearly ran to get to you.
I’m glad you didn’t. We really can’t give anyone a reason to question things.
I know. But I wanted to, I never want anything to keep me from you when you need me.
Jeong Yunho…. - You write back, butterflies in your belly at his words - Are you trying to make me like you?
I thought we covered this, you don’t already like me? - You feel his warmth through the bond and you know he’s teasing.
You know I do. - If you said more you’d probably reveal how far in this you already are after a few weeks of a bond.
It takes a moment for him to respond, but when he does your cheeks heat - I’ll have to work harder then, to make sure you feel as strongly as I do.
Your mark warms, a punctuated touch of his heart to yours.
Before you can reply he sends another message - You promise you’re not hurt at all?
Embarrassed mostly, and my knee hurts a little, but I promise it’s nothing serious, I wouldn’t lie to you. - You reply, touching your mark gently with your fingers to send back the same warmth, the same truth of your words.
When can I see you? I don’t think I can go days until our next schedule.
Tonight? You can’t help yourself.
Where?
Your stomach flutters at the thought of being alone with him again - My place? I live alone in Seongsu. It’s nothing special, but it’s private and it’s home.
Text me the address, I’ll find a way over.
You tap out your address and send it through - Please don’t get in trouble trying to come by.
I won’t - He replies instantly.
Iseul’s hand gently touches your knee and you look back up at her, “What’s up?”
“You want a ride home from the office?” She asks, eyes flicking down at your phone briefly.
“You don’t mind?” You ask.
She shakes her head, “You’re on the way,”
You nod, pulling your phone back out to send him a message - Iseul’s driving me home when we get to the office. Are you going to your apartment now?
Yes - He replies - Yeosang keeps yawning, when our managers leave and he goes to bed I’ll come by.
Aren’t you tired too? - You ask him.
I slept on the plane - He replies, and then another message comes through - If you’re tired you can sleep, I just need to be with you right now.
I slept too - You assure him - I’ll be up. Just message me when you’re close.
I will - He says.
You send him one last bit of instruction, a little safer if he can let himself into your place just in case anyone sees him coming by - It’s apartment 26B, Door Code is 10824*
He sends a heart in reply, and you tuck your phone back into your lap.
Soon, you’d finally be alone. After weeks and weeks of waiting, the ache in your chest would finally be soothed.
Even after Iseul drops you off at home, it takes him hours. By the time you get a message that he’s on his way you’ve nervously cleaned your tiny apartment three times over and ordered far too much take out just to be sure he has something to eat if he hasn’t gotten anything already.
When you hear him keying your door code in, your heart starts to beat double time.
He slips in quietly, dressed in a dark gray long coat, black ball cap, and black face mask, and if you didn’t know him just from the cut of his shoulders you could have easily mistaken him for just about anyone in a crowd.
“Hey,” You feel at ease immediately, and he looks up at the sound of your voice.
Your apartment amounts to a double wide hallway, your lofted bed above the entryway and bathroom, a small galley kitchenette along one wall, built-in storage and a desk, and then an extremely modest living space. The sight of him in your apartment is strange, he’s so tall he seems to fill up the space of the entryway, a surreal sight now that you’re home and not in random hotel rooms.
He kicks off his shoes to leave them by the door, and then he steps up into your apartment as he pulls his mask off, crossing the room in three easy strides to get to you.
“Hey,” He replies, his cold hands cupping your cheeks as he gets close, “there you are,”
“Here I am,” You smile, stepping closer to him and relaxing into his touch.
“I,” He shakes his head and his words falter a little, “I know you said you’re fine, I just… it’s nice to see for myself, I couldn’t shake that feeling,”
You soften at that, “Oh, Yunho, I’m okay,”
“I know,” He sighs, “I’m sorry it took me so long,”
“It’s alright,” You slide your hands into his jacket and rest your hands on his chest, “you’re here now,”
He folds you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you properly and cupping the back of your head with his broad hand, “I’m so glad to be home,”
Your heart flutters, “The tour felt like years,” you murmur, nuzzling into his chest.
“Mm,” He sighs, his body melting around you, “our managers wanted to talk about the upcoming week, and Hongjoong had schedule changes, and then Yeosang wouldn’t go to bed, he kept sitting in the living room, I thought I was going to scream,”
”It’s fine,” You smile against his sweater, “do you have a schedule tomorrow, then?”
“No,” He unfolds himself from around you, pulling his cap free and running a hand through his messy locks, “I’m off, I don’t have anywhere to be.”
Warmth fills you, “For how many days?”
“Three,” He grins.
“Me too,”
“Any plans?” He drops his hat and mask down onto your side table where your own keys and gloves are and steps close again.
”None,” You murmur, “sleeping,”
“Want some company?” He wraps his hand around yours.
“For three days?” Your eyes widen, “There’s no way you can get away for that long,”
“I worked it out,” He says, “waiting for Yeosang to get tired,”
“Okay,” You don’t want to let yourself be excited too soon.
“I’ll have to go back and pick up a few things,” He tells you, “but I told my manager that my brother might be coming up to town to see me after tour,”
“Okay,”
”And that I might drive down to Gwangju with him,” He smiles wider, “and that he could drop me back off before schedules pick back up.”
“Really?” Your hand tightens on his.
”Really,” He nods, “if you want me here, I’m here.”
For a split second you feel like you could cry, relief washing through you, and you dive forward to wrap your arms around his neck, “Stay, please, stay,”
He bends to accommodate your height difference, and ends up wrapping his arms around your back and lifting you in the air, “Good,” he sighs, “I hoped you’d say that,”
“Yunho, thank you,” You pull back enough to find his face, “god, I missed you,”
“Me too,” He confesses, “seeing you everyday but not really seeing you, I don’t want to do that again,”
“It’s so much harder than I thought it would be,”
He nods and gives you a soft smile, “We made it, though,”
“Yeah,”
He dips in and presses his lips to yours, and the last threads of tension unravel, everything else forgotten with his body so close to yours. Yunho sighs pleasantly, pressing close lipped, familiar kisses to your lips, before setting you back down on your feet and straightening back up to his full height.
Your hearts feel like they’re in sync.
He smiles at you again, and then finally glances around to take in the space around him, “Oh,” he says as he takes it in, “I like your place,”
“It’s small,” You shrug, “but it works for me,”
“That view,” He nods towards your floor to ceiling glass window, truly the only selling point of the apartment, “that’s something.”
You follow his eyes to the glittering city outside and nod, “It really is,”
It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the view, and then he sighs and looks back to you, “It feels nice to not have to rush away,”
You nod, “I know,”
You’re dancing around each other again, now that there’s no deadline hanging over your heads or threat that someone might walk by. You can simply exist.
“I’ve got takeout,” You offer, making the first move, “if you’re hungry, but if not it’ll keep,”
He smiles, “In a bit,”
“Let me take your coat at least,” You stretch out a hand, “get comfortable,”
He slides it off his shoulders and folds it as he hands it to you, “Thanks,”
You find a home for his coat in the entryway nestled on a hook next to yours, his shoes already placed neatly side by side with your sneakers. It looks so right, your life against his, and you let your fingers skate down over the back of his coat as you take it in, a smile pulling at your lips. He belongs here, in every way, and for the next three days you’d pretend his presence in your apartment was permanent, solid and immutable in the way it feels in your heart.
His coat, his shoes, and in a flash you see it all, flickers of a real life together. Toothbrushes, coffee cups, letters in the mail, his keys kissing yours in a dish by the door, books slotted together on the shelf, clothes tangled up in the laundry basket.
Your chest aches with need, but he just walked into your apartment for the first time, so you shake off those thoughts and turn to him, “What did you have in mind for tonight?”
“Honestly,” He grins, “being able to talk to you face to face is as far as I let myself get,”
“Way better than texting,” You smile back, “you want a drink? Beer? Wine?”
“Sure,” He nods, “Beer?”
You nod and take the two steps into the kitchenette to locate glasses and two cans of beer, calling over your shoulder, “Make yourself comfortable, are you sure you’re not hungry?”
”I’m okay,” You hear him settle onto the couch and it occurs to you that you’ve never had a man in your apartment, at least in the sense of a romantic partner. For years you were going to their places, strangely protective of your own little haven between these four walls, and yet with Yunho you feel comfortable enough already not just to let him inside, but to give him your door code without a thought.
You blink at the realization, almost letting his glass overflow onto the countertop as you pour. How strange the last few weeks have been, how different you already are.
“How long have you lived here?” Yunho asks, and you let the thoughts about what it all means fade into the background as you turn towards him.
“Um,” You do the math in your head, “a few years? Almost four now,”
“It’s a great place,” He says again.
You leave the two empty cans on the counter and cross the room towards him, “Yeah,” you nod, “It’s small, but it’s nice and accessible, and in this area anyways I really can’t beat the rent,”
“Mm,” He nods, “I wish I could say I know what you mean, but idol life is strange.”
“That’s right,” You nod, “you don’t pay for your place?”
You settle onto the small couch next to him as he answers, “It’s part of our contract so it’s provided, but if we were to leave the group before contracts are up we’d owe the money back,”
You grimace, “That’s terrible,”
He nods but it’s with a slight shrug, “Some companies are worse, KQ being small has its benefits in other areas so that’s never been much of a concern for us,”
“That’s good at least,” You nod, “and they treat us pretty well, all things considered.”
“Did you ever work anywhere else?” Yunho takes a sip of beer and makes a noise of satisfaction at the flavor.
You smile and tuck your legs under you, angling towards him on the couch, “After cosmetology school I worked at SM for about a year,”
“And?” He asks.
“Awful,” You groan, “The pay was terrible, and the schedules were worse. It felt like being an intern,”
“And then you came to KQ?”
You sip your beer, nodding as you do, “Iseul and I went to school together, she got me in as soon as a position opened up, really vouched for me considering I had a smaller portfolio than she did at the time,”
“I’m glad she did,” He smiles warmly.
“What about you?” You ask, “Was KQ your first choice?”
He turns towards you on the couch, his knees pressed against yours and he rests one arm on the back of your couch, “Not initially,” he admits, “but I had two other competing offers, and something just didn’t feel right about either. Then I met Hongjoong, and I guess you know, that’s it,”
“A little bit of fate,” You smile.
“Mm,” He nods, “fate, maybe luck, I don’t care what it was, I’m just happy to be with you now,”
Your cheeks heat a little, and you look down at the popping bubbles on the surface of your drink.
”I just wish it happened sooner,” He admits, his hand sliding over the cushions to touch your forearm.
You nod and look back up, “I know what you mean, but, maybe that’s another thing fate got right, maybe we’re finally ready for each other now.”
He laughs, “What was the word Iseul used? Skittish?”
You sigh, “Yeah, she’s not totally wrong. I used to have terrible taste in guys, or maybe I wasn’t comfortable opening up, I don’t know, but,”
Yunho gives your arm a gentle squeeze, “I get it,”
You cock your head, asking him a silent question.
“I’ve dated a bit,” He explains, “and I always thought maybe it was me, but no matter how nice or compatible someone was on paper it was just…”
“Dull?” You offer.
He nods, “Like I was sleepwalking through it,”
Your stomach bubbles with a nervous thrill, your chest constricting with anticipation, “And with me?”
His mouth turns up in a small smile, eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I’m more than awake with you.”
“Me too,” You confess.
It’s quiet for a moment, Yunho’s thumb sweeping a soft line over the veins in your wrist, and then he exhales and drops his glass off on the table.
“Yun?”
He smiles at the abbreviation of his name and takes your glass away too, “As much as I want to talk all night, and I do, I think I might actually die if I’m not touching you after all these weeks,”
He reaches for you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you over to his half of the couch. You squeak in surprise, bracing yourself with a hand on his chest and another on the cushions, but you end up pressed up against him and almost laying across his chest. Your body relaxes into him instantly, and Yunho lets out a relieved sigh. This, this is what you had been waiting weeks and weeks to feel again, the sureness of his body under your fingertips, the way your heart seems to slow and soothe with every touch.
“Anyways,” His voice cracks a little, a soft smile on his face, “you were saying,”
You’re nearly nose to nose, close enough to hear his breath, to feel the thump of his heart under your palm. His eyes flick over your face, his lips part, pupils dilating wider with every passing moment.
You try to remember where you were in the conversation, but with him so close and his hot hands on you, it’s all like a distant memory and you laugh lightly, “I have no idea,”
He grins, his hand brushing your face, the pad of his thumb tracing your cheekbone, and then without a single conscious thought you’re surging forwards to press your lips to his.
Yunho groans, hands tightening on your back, and when he starts to kiss you back it’s like the catch of a match under your skin, a crackle of need through every nerve ending. He kisses you with unmasked urgency, pulling little pants and moans from your lips every time you break for a breath.
His hands slide down, cupping your backside, and you hitch a leg over his as you push yourself higher on the couch, desperately seeking more of his hot mouth.
“Baby,” He breathes between kisses, his tongue flicking against yours as your mouth opens to him.
Your body rolls on instinct, pressing your clothed core against his thigh.
He groans again, pulling your body tighter against him and shifting the position of his leg so that his foot is flat on the floor, providing a hard, stable straddle for you.
You wish so badly in this moment you weren’t wearing jeans, uncomfortably stiff denim that doesn’t let you properly feel the heat of him, but that doesn’t stop you from rocking your body once, twice, and again as you pant against his mouth.
His fingertips slip under the waistband of your jeans, resting on your lower back while his free hand wanders around to your front, sliding up to cup your breast, his thumb ghosting over your pebbled nipple.
You feel dizzy, and you press back from his mouth to take a sharp inhale, “Ah, Yunho,”
He shudders, cupping your neck and pulling you back to his mouth. Mumbled against your lips he offers, “We can talk more,”
You shake your head, “You really want to talk, right now?” You smile, pushing yourself further onto his lap, nearly straddling him now as you dive back in for another heated kiss.
He groans, his hands flexing as they find anchor points on your hips, and he tugs you right into place with your pelvis slotted right over his. One of his hands skims up the back of your shirt, hot skin on skin, and you moan pleasantly into his mouth.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” He pants between wet kisses, “you’re killing me here,”
“Yeah?” Your stomach flutters with butterflies.
He hums a yes, tongue dipping into your mouth to catch on yours.
You can’t stop the little whine that leaves your lips, “Oh,” you roll your hips, “Yunho,”
His hips twitch under you, and you can feel the start of his erection as it hardens under your ass.
“Please,” You kiss him again, pushing your hips down and clinging onto his shoulders.
His hand snakes up higher under your shirt, and his fingers deftly close over the clasp of your bra. In a second he slides the fabric in just the right way to open the clasp, and you feel the support release as his hand slides up and down the bare expanse of your back.
“Fuck,” He shudders, “I’m sorry, I should have asked,”
“Shut up,” You dive back in, your fingers tugging at his sweater, “take this off,”
He kisses you hard once more and then pulls back, and you lean away still perched on his lap while he awkwardly tugs off the sweater, tossing it to the other side of your couch.
“Can I,” His hands slide under your shirt, circling your bare waist, his eyes tracking the way your shirt slides up, “Jesus, you’re gorgeous,”
“Off,” You raise your arms and he slides his hands up, pushing the shirt up and over your head until he’s discarding it on the floor.
When you look back down it nearly knocks the breath out of you. He’s staring at you like you’re a marvel, like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, and it draws your frantic pace to a blinding halt. He smiles softly, and his eyes skate down your body. Your bare neck, black bra straps loosely held on either shoulder, tattoos stretching down over your upper arms, over your elbows, stopping at mid forearm. The sheer mesh of your bra loosely cupping your breasts, nipples standing hard at attention through the fabric and the center of the underwire covering the top half of your red, looping soulmark.
He reaches for you slowly this time, one hand sliding to the back of your neck while the other skims up and down your arm, “Can I?” He asks again, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your bra.
You nod, breathless.
He hooks his fingers under one side and pulls, letting the strap drop and the mesh cup falls slack. His adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and slowly he loosens the other strap, your bra falling away and landing in your laps.
Your heart is hammering in your chest now, and your fingers tighten on the fabric of his crisp white t-shirt.
“So beautiful, baby,” He sighs, looking back up to your eyes, “you’re so perfect,”
You can’t find any words, the way he looks at you and touches you has you rooted to the spot.
“Can I kiss you again?” He slides his hands over your skin, still stroking your back and sides.
That snaps you back into reality, and you dip forwards to crash your mouth to his.
His arms wrap around you as yours knot into his hair, both of you a panting mess as you cling to each other on your sofa. Your bodies move in sync, his hands pressing just right as you roll your hips, only this time you can feel the hot press of his cock on your cunt through layers of fabric and you both moan at the contact.
“Yunho,” You exhale sharply, rocking again to try and catch more sensation.
“Jesus,” He pants, his hands locking down harder.
You shudder at the contact, and you’re about two seconds away from begging him to take you right here on the couch when he puts the brakes back on.
His hand slides up to catch your cheek, pushing your hair back and drawing your face away from his so he can look up at you, “y/n,” he says, voice a little hoarse, “that time on the phone,”
You nearly moan at the memory of your silent orgasm, his voice in your ear, but you manage to nod.
“DId you,” He starts and then backtracks, “I mean, you didn’t mind, or I guess what I’m asking is you weren’t, you know, uncomfortable,”
His cheeks are turning pink as he talks, and you have half a mind to let him muddle through the thought, but you want his mouth on yours again and you cut him off, “You mean the best orgasm I’ve had in years?”
He blushes properly then, his ears a frighteningly dark shade of pink and he clears his throat, “So you liked it?”
Warmth blooms in your chest and you smile, leaning closer to him, your fingers tangling into his hair again, “Yunho,” you murmur, “are you asking if you can boss me around a little?”
You’re nose to nose again, and his eyes search yours, “A little,” he concedes.
“Boss away,” You grin, pressing your lips back to his, but he shakes his head.
“Slow down,” He catches your hands in his and closes them together, pulling you back from him.
Your brow knits together, “I’m getting mixed messages,” you glance down at your bare chest.
His eyes flick to your breasts and back up and he huffs a soft laugh, “Sorry,” he manages, “I just meant we should talk,”
“So much talk with you,” You tease him lightly, “I think I liked the kissing,”
“Think?” His eyebrow quirks but then he shakes his head, “You’re a flirt, you do a hell of a job distracting me,”
“Distracting you from what?”
He reaches up, brushing the pad of his thumb over your lips, “Stop pouting,” he says, “I’m trying to be respectful, here,”
“I’m feeling pretty respected,” You slip one hand out of his grip and tug at his t-shirt, “kiss me again, let’s double check.”
He laughs properly this time, shaking his head, “I don’t know if it’s a soulmate thing or a you thing, but God, you know all my buttons, already, don’t you?”
“I’m confused,” You relax in his lap a little, arms folding over your chest to cover yourself, “we were making out and it was perfect and now,”
He nods, “I know, let me explain,”
You wait for him to say more, the soft silence his opening.
“We know each other,” He finally says, “but I don’t know what you like in bed,”
“Oh,” Your shoulders relax a little, “well, traditionally we would have sex and figure that out,”
He rolls his eyes at you a little, a smile still on his lips, “y/n,”
“Sorry, sorry, go on,”
His hands settle over your thighs, “Every time we touch it feels like a fire,” he confesses, “and I’m trying not to lose my mind before we have a chance to talk about any of the important things, I don’t want to cross a line, I don’t want you to feel rushed or uncomfortable with anything,”
You sigh, about to say more but he shakes his head and continues.
“Without talking I won’t know what you don’t want,” He says, “or even if you want tonight to be the night, if you’re on birth control or if we should use condoms,”
The thought of that sparks a clarity in you like no other and you realize he’s right, you were both so close to losing yourselves you could have made a mistake of the whole night. You blink, nodding this time.
“And I’m afraid if we keep going like this,” He continues, “if we go upstairs without talking, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to walk away without fucking you and making you mine tonight.”
Your heart thumps in your chest. You’ve never been held like this, talked to like this, no one in your life has ever searched for your boundaries on their own quite like this, with sex or otherwise and you know suddenly with perfect truth what this night is going to be.
You nod, and then you smile, “Can I talk now?”
“Please,”
“I’m on birth control,” You start off with the easiest answer, “and I’ve been tested since my last partner, so as long as you have too we can go without condoms,”
“I have,” He nods immediately, “it’s been a while and that’s part of our regular health screenings,”
“Good,” You let your arms relax now, resting your hands on his shoulders as you keep going, “so that’s one thing cleared up,”
He smiles.
“As for the rest,” You hold his gaze, “I liked how you talked to me on the phone very much,”
He swallows hard.
“I’m pretty sure I know what you’re asking,” You let your thumb rub over the pulse point in his neck, “so let me be clear, I like that. I like that you want to take control, and I like that you want to tell me what to do. Very much.”
He nods, “And,”
“I’m not the type to do something I don’t want to,” You promise him, knowing it’s as much of a promise to yourself after everything you’ve experienced in past relationships, “if something isn’t right for me, I’ll say it.”
His shoulders relax under your touch, “Good,”
“My guess though,” You nudge him, “is that we’re pretty compatible if the universe thinks so too,”
“I thought so,” He murmurs appreciatively.
You lean a little closer to him, and his arms slide around your back to hold you as you muster up the courage for the next part of answers to his questions, “For what I like,” you start, “let’s figure out the details together.”
He nods.
“For what I don’t like,” You tell him softly, “um,” your voice cracks a little with nerves and discomfort, a tone you were hoping to conceal at least for tonight.
He watches you fumble over the words, a little crease between his brows as he tries to parse out what’s behind your tone, his thumb dragging a comforting line over your vertebrae.
You sigh heavily and tell him your boundaries in a rushed breath, “Don’t pull my hair too hard, and if I’m ever using my mouth on you, just tell me before you move, alright? We can figure the rest out as we go,”
His expression smooths, and his eyes study yours with the start of a question. You didn’t want to go here, not for a while, but something about your connection with him or maybe even just his earnestness makes you tell him more than you ever normally would.
Again, as he always seems to, he senses the sudden tension in your chest and simply nods before touching your cheek gently, “Anything else?”
You shake your head.
He watches you carefully, his touch soft, and then with easy comfort he finds a question, “Do you want to tell me?”
There’s no demand in it, no insistence, only the offer of an outstretched hand, a listening ear. The momentary tightness relaxes inside you and you shake your head, “Not tonight,”
He wants to ask more, you can see it, but your past sexual experiences no matter how clumsy or good or borderline traumatic should have no space in your night here with him. He’s worried though, you can see that too.
It’s quiet for a beat as you take that in, and he nudges you gently, “You okay?”
“Mhm,” You nod, “I promise, but let’s not talk about it tonight,”
“Alright,” He draws you close, a soft kiss to your lips.
You return the kiss warmly, pressing the promise of later honesty into your intention and he nods, reading you with ease.
“Yunho,” You murmur as you part, “I do want it to be tonight,”
“You do?” He confirms, hand sliding up and down your bare back.
“I want this,” You cup his cheek, “I want us, and I don’t want to wait anymore,”
“Say that again,” He lets your words from a moment ago fade, focusing on what you’re telling him now.
“I want this,” You pull at his t-shirt again, restless energy creeping its way back into your body.
“Not that,” He dismisses, “the other thing,”
You know just what he wants to hear, but you play dumb for just a moment, “I don’t want to wait anymore?”
His hand tightens on your backside, “y/n,”
“Us,” You smile, “I said I want us,”
“That’s it,” He kisses your smile, “I like the sound of that,”
“I want us.” You repeat for him, lips to his, “Now, please, will you take me to bed and make me yours? Or do I have to beg?”
He groans, “Let’s go to bed,”
“So easy,” You tease him, sliding off his lap and reaching for him.
He pushes himself off the couch but slides his hand into yours and tugs you close again, “I’ll make you beg another time,”
Your stomach flip flops, arousal spiking through you and he smirks at your dazed expression.
“Cute,” He taps your nose and steps towards the stairs, “you’re sure?”
You’re about to protest again, a heavy sigh brewing in your gut, but he clears his throat and continues.
“On tour,” His eyes shift to the floor for a moment, “I know you were anxious about us, and we talked about waiting. I’ll… I know I want you, and I’m going to keep wanting you. I can wait if that’s what you need, we can date,”
The one good thing about the tour and all your sleepless nights was how long you had to think about this, about him. Your initial panic and fear over logistics and what-ifs had faded in days. He’s here, standing in your apartment, so you trust your gut, and you trust fate, and decide for once in your life to let someone in.
You step close and pull him towards you, “Yunho, I don’t want to date,”
His eyes flick to yours, his irises dark, “You don’t,”
“I said I want us,” You take his hands in yours and direct them to your hips, “I know what that means,”
His eyes study yours for a moment, and then he sighs, “Good,” he pulls you up into his hold and crashes your lips together.
This time there’s nothing between you, no schedules or secrets, no indecision or questions keeping you from letting go. With both eyes open you’re diving into each other, and nothing in the world could stop you from tying yourself to him tonight, body and soul.
You feel him shift on the landing as you kiss, and you pant a single word against his mouth, “Bed,”
He nods, stumbling up a few steps without breaking your lips apart, one of his hands secure on the railing to guide him upwards.
You giggle as he tips to the side and rights himself, leaning back and looking down to see how far up he managed to get you both, “Let me down,”
He eases you to your own step.
“Get up here,” You tug his hand and take the familiar steps to your loft bed as quickly as you can, dragging him behind you the whole way.
Once you hit the landing you take your hand back and start unbuttoning your jeans, but you stop at the sound of a soft thump and Yunho’s soft curse under his breath.
Turning you realize the issue, he’s too tall for your landing’s slanted ceiling, and he must have bumped his head on the way up to your bedroom. You laugh sharply, covering your lips to stifle the sound, “Sorry,” you grin, “are you okay?”
“Fine,” He rubs the spot, but shakes it off.
You turn back to the bed and tug the downy comforter open, “You’re too tall, when we get our own place we’ll get high ceilings,”
Something warm floods your chest and then he’s on you again. Yunho spins you around and dips to kiss you, only this time there’s an edge to it, a neediness. He walks you back until your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and then he wraps his arms around you and pushes you down in one smooth motion.
Yunho slots himself between your thighs, and you hitch your legs onto his hips as he presses you into the mattress with hungrier and hungrier kisses.
His lips travel over your jaw, your throat, “You said when,”
“Hmm?” Your brain feels cottony and light already and you turn your head just a little to hear him again.
His hand drags down to the top of your jeans, tugging at the zipper, “You said when, not if,”
“Yunho,” You smile, gasping as his teeth nip at your throat, “we’re about to tie ourselves together for life, did you think I haven’t thought about living with you?”
He groans, “You’re perfect,”
You thread your fingers through his hair, “So are you,”
He tugs artlessly at the top of your pants and sighs, “Need these off,”
“Take them off me,” You relax your legs, and he shifts back to stand, looping his thumbs in your belt loops so that when he tugs your jeans, they slide off in one smooth motion and drop to the floor.
“Oh,” He says softly, getting a good look at your now bare legs and the lines of ink that cover so many inches of your skin, “wow,”
You’ve never been self conscious about your tattoos before, not like this, and you find yourself letting your legs fall closed, “Oh?”
”I didn’t realize you had more,” He comments but his expression softens into a smile, “they suit you,”
“Yeah?”
“Mm,” His hands slide up and down the plush curve of your thighs, “later you can tell me all about them,”
Your stomach flips pleasantly.
“Right now though,” He pushes your legs back open and drops back over you, slotting your bodies together and capturing your lips.
You sigh pleasantly against his lips, wrapping your limbs around him and drawing him closer, and when his hips drop just enough for your core to press firmly against the front of his jeans you moan.
Yunho groans, his hands wandering.
You roll your hips, pressing yourself more firmly against the hard bulge of his clothed cock, “S-shirt off,” you pant, tugging at the fabric.
He reaches back with one hand and grabs the back of his t-shirt and tugs, yanking it free with ease with only the briefest interruptions to your locked lips. When he presses closer to you this time, your bare chest is pressed against his.
Your brain feels like dizzy stars, like someone picked you up and turned you around in endless circles until you couldn’t help but stagger in his direction, falling over yourself to hold onto him. His hips thrust gently, pushing his hardness insistently at your cunt and you moan into his mouth, your hot breath mingling together in panting sighs.
“Yunho,” You whine, your core pulsating with need.
“Yes, pretty girl?” He smiles against your lips, his hand skimming over the curve of your breast, down your side to anchor on your hip.
You can’t wait anymore, if you do you might combust, and you reach between your bodies to tug at his belt buckle.
He huffs a laugh, “Yeah?”
“Please,” You work the leather loop free, “I’m way more naked than you,”
“Patience,” He nips at your lip.
His button is open with a frantic tug of your fingers, then his zipper, “I’ve been patient,” you push at his jeans, “baby, please, I need you,”
“I need you too,” He balances himself on one hand braced on the bed, shimmying out of his pants, and you hook your fingers in the elastic of his boxer briefs to push at those too.
“Please,” You find yourself begging so easily at the thought of this man pushing inside you.
“Relax,” He kisses your forehead, tapping your hand out of the way so he can take off his own underwear, “I got it,”
You ease back on the bed, but between the space of your bodies you watch him. Your mouth runs dry when he’s finally bare for you, and your heartbeat starts to pick up.
The size of him is intimidating to say the least. He’s long, at least nine or ten inches if you were guessing, but what’s more is how thick he is. His cock is heavy, the kind you’d see in porn and wonder how the women on screen could take it. You can see every vein, the way it stands perfectly straight, the velvety mushroom head already dark pink and slick with the first few beads of precum.
Yunho settles back above you, his hot, thick length resting on the top of your pubic mound, only the thin cotton of your panties keeping you from feeling him fully.
”God,” You breathe, still taking him in, “I hope you’re good at foreplay,”
He squeezes your hip, “We’ll take it slow,”
You nod, still fixated on the sight of him between your legs, and you try not to think about how far up your stomach his cock comes and what that means for when he tries to put it inside you. Instead you focus on the fact that he’s yours, “We were made for each other right?” You joke softly, “I can take you,”
He smooths your hair back and tilts your head up, finding your eyes, “We’ll go slow,” he reiterates, “have you ever been with someone my size? Or used any toys like that?”
For all the sex you’ve had, his question makes you feel a bit like a blushing virgin and you shake your head.
Something flashes in his eyes, and you feel the twitch of his cock against you.
“You like that?” You bite the inside of your lip to keep from teasing him too much.
He brushes past your question, “Let me warm you up,”
Easy relief blooms in your chest, your muscles starting to relax, and he settles his body over you properly to take you right back into a tender kiss. You can feel him hard and present between you, but he distracts you with open mouthed kisses, his hands exploring you slowly until your hips are twitching on their own.
You’re dripping wet, there’s no way you’re not soaking through the thin fabric of your panties, but his kisses continue like that’s the last thought in his mind. He makes his way across your jaw, sliding lower down your body as he lavishes attention on your neck, over the jut of your collarbones, across the smooth plane of your chest and tops of your breasts.
“Oh, yes,” Your voice is breathy as he slides even lower in the bed between your thighs, his mouth skimming over the swell of your tits, ghosting past your nipples.
“You’re so beautiful,” He murmurs, hands cupping your chest and drawing your breasts together, his teeth sink into his lower lip at the sight.
“Y-yeah?” Your hips arch beneath him, “You like me?”
A smile tugs at his lips, one hand sliding up to your cheek as he looks up, “I more than like you, y/n,”
Your breath is caught in your throat, your heart quickening in your chest.
Yunho smiles a little at that, feeling the echo of your emotions himself, and then he dips his face to kiss your chest again. This time his lips travel in a smooth, reverent line down your sternum until you feel his breath against your looped tattoo.
Pleasure sparks inside you and you moan softly, one of your hands threading into the back of his hair.
He hums pleasantly, and then kisses your mark.
“Yunho,” You sigh, heat flooding your body.
He kisses you again, pressing a peck to each of the four corners of the knotted diamond, before centering another again and pouring every ounce of his feeling into it through the link. This time, he murmurs what you already know against your skin, “I love you,”
Tears gather in your eyes, the feeling spilling over into you so all encompassing that it fells you. You tremble in his arms, your eyes locked to the white ceiling above you as you try desperately to steady yourself in the wave of emotion and sensation.
His kisses start to travel lower, and your fingers card through his hair, “Y-Yunho, I,”
“Shh,” He shakes his head, lips moving down over your belly as he shifts lower, “just relax,”
A little piece of you wants to protest, wants to tell him that you love him too, but he settles between your thighs and slides your legs open wider to accommodate his broad shoulders, and every coherent thought flutters right out of your brain.
Yunho kisses your inner thigh, easing himself into the perfect position, and then he wraps his arms around your hips under your splayed thighs, one hand braced on your rib cage and the other closing over your abdomen.
His nose gently, gently nuzzles against your clothed mound and you hear him breathe you in.
You shudder, moaning softly, your hand finding his hair once again.
“I’ll take good care of you,” He murmurs low, kissing your cunt, “I love you so much,”
“Oh,” Your breath catches as he tastes you through the fabric of you underwear, “p-please,”
His hand on your abdomen shifts, and he reaches between your thighs to tug your underwear to one side, hooking it under his thumb to hold it in place. You gasp as his warm breath caresses your slit, your hand sliding to brace his shoulder.
“I got you,” He soothes you, his free hand sliding up and down on your ribs, “I promise,”
A needy sound stutters from your throat.
At the first swipe of his tongue through your slick folds, Yunho groans and you start to tremble properly in his hold. It feels like liquid fire, better than any touch you’ve ever felt, partner, toy, or or own fingers. Yunho’s lips, his tongue, each little brush of his fingers, every bit of him feels like it was divined for you, and you won’t last a minute.
“Feel good?” He checks, sliding his tongue through your lower lips again.
“Incredible,” You pant, your hips canting to try and catch more sensation, “I, I c-can’t,”
He chuckles, the vibrations running straight up your body, “You taste like heaven, baby,”
Moaning, you grip down on his shoulder.
“Mm,” He dives in properly, nestling close and all but kissing your cunt, “god,”
His tongue drives any coherent thoughts out of your head as he gets the feel for your body, the firm tip sliding over your clit and making you jolt under his hands.
“Y-yes,” You manage, nodding into the pillows.
“Here?” He breathes, flicking your swollen clit again.
“Oh, yes, god,” You grip the sheets.
He hums, his hands tightening on your skin, and then he closes his lips over your bud and sucks.
“Oh!” You arch back, hand flying up to catch his head and brace yourself, “Fuck, fuck,”
He stays steady this time, sucking and lapping at you in a perfect rhythm, holding you in place as he finds the perfect combination to have you scrambling in the sheets.
“Baby,” You moan, the word turning into a heady whine.
He groans against you, dragging you tighter to his mouth with a flex of his arms. Your head spins as you slide down the mattress, a bubble of taut pleasure building inside you fast and hot.
“Please,” You moan, your back arching as he delivers a sharp suck.
His broad hand slides up from its place anchored on your side to cup your breast, and you look down to watch him move. His fingers deftly find your nipple, twisting and pinching gently, and as he takes a breath between licks and sucks to your dripping cunt, his eyes flash up and meet yours.
A smile flicks across his wet face, and your eyes roll as you collapse back into the bedding to let him work.
“That’s it,” He huffs as he sucks in another breath, tongue diving back inside you, pulsing and thrusting.
Your thighs start to shake, your body jerks on its own, and he finds the perfect tempo to take you through - his thumb swiping sharply over your nipple back and forth, his mouth working you up higher and higher with a sustained pressure.
The bubble of pleasure arcs up your spine and then settles back down, low in your belly, and you gasp sharply, “God, oh, god,”
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t change a single thing, he stays steady and that brings you right up to the very edge.
“I’m,” Your eyes snap shut, your body shuddering, “I’m, c-coming, Yunho, I’m… baby, I’m,”
He moans through your babbled pleas, and then you break apart beneath him. Your orgasm crashes into you like a wall of heat, and your body wrenches up tight into fits and starts, legs snapping shut around his ears, fingers knotted in his hair, your free hand braced on the wall behind you as your body jerks itself in rolling grinds against his eager mouth.
He eases you through it, transitioning from sucks to lazy licks with the flat of his tongue, until you’re boneless and melted under him, your legs falling slack open as your eyes stay unfocused on the ceiling.
“Okay,” His low voice comes back to you, and you feel his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs, a kiss to your knee, “that’s it,”
A shiver runs through you, your body suddenly cold at the lack of contact and you take in a sharp breath.
“I got you,” He shifts over your legs, crawling up the bed so he can collapse along your one side, and he wraps you up in his arm.
His cheeks are pleasantly pink, hair a chaotic haystack, his mouth is still glistening from your slick wetness, and he grins down at you breathlessly, “Hey,”
“H-hi,” You sigh.
“Feeling good?” He cups your face, thumb brushing over your cheekbone.
You nod, relaxing into his touch, “Mhm,”
“Good,” He presses a warm kiss to your forehead and draws you into him to let you recover.
You melt into his touch, cheek to chest.
Yunho brushes his fingers up and down your spine and gets his own breath back.
After a few more moments, you sigh, shaking out the post-orgasm haze and kiss his skin, “I’d say I’m warmed up now,”
He huffs a laugh into your hair, “Eager,”
“Aren’t you?” Your hand slides over his bare side.
“I am,” He squeezes you.
Feeling starts to come back into your body and you smile, wriggling in his arms until you’re in a better position and able to follow his earlier lead. You nip gently at his chest and pepper him with kisses, and you smile when you hear his contented sigh and pleased hum. His fingers slide up and down your back as you try to give him a taste of every sensation he gave to you.
At his mark, you follow his kisses exactly, and you feel him twitch, his hard length pressing into your belly where you have his cock trapped between your bodies.
You linger here a moment, “You feel that?”
At your punctuated kiss against his soul mark he sighs, “I can feel you,”
You nod, nuzzling into him, “You’re mine,”
“Completely,”
“I’m yours,” You murmur, promising him the same.
“Mine,” He breathes.
Your kisses travel lower as you work your way down the smooth plane of his abdomen, his muscles twitching under your lips, but as you settle yourself over his hips and work your mouth closer and closer to the base of his cock he shifts under you.
“Hey,” He catches your hands, closing them in his own, “I’m fine,”
“I want to,” You smile, a tender kiss to the underside of his shaft before you let your tongue trace up the seam of his thick member.
He gasps, hips twitching, but he shakes his head, “Wait, wait,”
You pull back immediately and look up, a swirl of feelings knotting in your gut, “What?”
He swallows hard and slides his hands up your arms, hooking under your upper arms so he can tug you back up to lie next to him eye to eye, “Not tonight,”
“I want to make you feel good,” Your hand snakes between you, searching for him.
“You do,” He sighs as your hand closes around him, “you are, but after what you said,”
It feels like a bucket of cold water and your hand falls away from his cock. You hate your ex so much for being anywhere near your head at this moment with this man, but he is. He never hurt you, but the way he pressured you and pushed you into things you weren’t ready for has been an ever present shadow in your sex life even now, years and multiple partners later.
Yunho kisses your lips and tries to keep his tone light, “Another time,” he tells you, “I don’t want to hurt you,”
“It’s not,” You fumble over your words again, “it’s not bad, I’m alright, I want to,”
He smiles and shakes his head, “I’d be more comfortable,”
That takes the wind right out of your sails, and you sink into him, “Oh,”
“You want to make me feel good?” He asks.
You nod.
His hand slides down your arm, drawing your own hand to his aching cock, and he closes your fingers around it, “Touch me, then, we’ll have time for the rest later,”
He’s hot in your hand and you take in the weight of him as you slide your fist up and down to explore him.
He groans, “Again,”
You pump your hand once more, base to tip, rolling your wrist experimentally this time as you work his tip. Leaving any thoughts of the past behind, you focus on him entirely.
“You’re s-so good at this already,” He sighs, “just like that,”
Your bodies shift to accommodate, he cuddles you closer with one arm wrapped around you and your legs tangled together, and slowly you start to learn his body too. The way he twitches as your fist drops down to the base and squeezes, his gasp when your knuckle brushes up over the seam of his cockhead. His eyes blow wide when your thumb collects a bead of precum to rub up and down his shaft, and he moans when your fingers tighten and release.
His free hand snakes between your bodies, finding your slippery center again like he’s been touching you for years.
“Oh, Yunho,” You part your thighs.
He groans, eyes slipping closed for a moment, “You’re so wet,”
You moan as he slides his fingers lower, teasing your entrance with his fingertips.
“Needy,” He murmurs.
You do your best to focus on him, but the pressure of his fingers at your wet opening has you jerking your hips. Your hand tightens on his shaft and he sucks in a sharp breath, nodding. His cock feels so right in your hand, thick and pulsing, and you shiver, “I should have known you’d be huge,” you giggle against his shoulder.
He smirks, “Yeah?”
“You’re tall,” You start.
He pulls his fingers back away from your pussy, dragging the pads of his fingertips over your clit as he does and you moan, a whiny needy sound from the center of your throat.
“Not all tall guys,” He starts to say but you pump your hand just right and he curses.
“Mm,” You slide closer to him if at all possible, “but you’re big everywhere,”
You punctuate your words with a gentle tease of his cockhead, the pad of your thumb rubbing a circle into the seam that made him pant before, and he twitches, his eyes rolling.
He swallows tightly and smiles, “Am I?”
“Mhm,” You nip his chest lightly with your teeth, pumping your hand again nice and slow, “big feet, big hands…”
“Been thinking a lot about my hands, sweetheart?” He teases, dragging his nails lightly up and down your thigh.
“Shut up,” You duck your face, planning to double down your efforts on his cock, but he pushes your hand away and rolls you smoothly onto your back. You drop back with a squeak, your eyes flying up to his.
“You have,” He teases, sliding his palm down your body, a slow and torturous pace on the path to your cunt once again.
“Maybe,”
”Fantasizing about my fingers?” His voice is low, warm in his chest, and he slowly presses his middle finger over your clit.
“Oh, fuck,” Your head drops back, eyes finding the ceiling once again only this time Yunho makes a soft noise, his tongue against his teeth and he shakes his head.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” He murmurs, his fingers rocking gently over your swollen bud.
You are a little, but there’s something in his tone that tells you he likes it and you think about the way his eyes flashed at the idea of being your first partner his size. With every little touch you’ve been figuring him out, and this suddenly feels like he’s allowing himself to want you in the way he needs. If he wasn’t so good at pressing all your buttons you’d try to tease him again, but when you meet his eyes and see the heat behind them, all you can do is melt.
His next words leave you breathless, “I fantasize about you,”
“Y-you do?”
“All the time,” He nods, his hand between your thighs getting bolder as he explores your wet folds.
“Please,” Your hips arch as the tips of his fingers pass over your entrance again.
“Oh baby,” He groans, and you feel his hard cock twitch against your thigh, “you need it?”
You nod, reaching down to find his wrist, tugging him to communicate while your head feels so full of fuzzy pleasure.
“Fuck it,” He bites his lip as he looks down at you squirming in the sheets, “I’ll tease you later,”
“Thank g-,” The words die on your lips, punched out of you when he slides two of his impossibly long fingers deep into your cunt in one push.
He doesn’t wait for you to beg this time, with his eyes glued to your every expression, he reads your pleasure and starts to pulse his hand, pumping his fingers in and out of your fluttering core with strong, steady strokes.
“Yes, yes,” Your legs widen, and you collapse into his shoulder, “oh my god,”
His fingers feel thick and warm in your cunt, crooked just right to reach spots you could only hit with toys, and even then the feeling of those pale in comparison to him.
“I knew you’d feel good,” He pushes your legs open wide with his free hand, “can’t wait to have you wrapped around my cock,”
Pleasure arcs up your spine and you moan, your hand flying to his bicep and gripping down hard, “Fuck,”
He presses a kiss to your shoulder as he adjusts his position and in torturously slow pumps of his hand, he starts to work you open. He scissors his fingers wide as draws them out, and when you feel him push in a third finger as deep as he can go, you shudder against the sheets.
“So tight,” He murmurs, the words sounding like praise on his lips, “you’re squeezing my fingers, pretty girl,”
Your cunt clenches in response and he chuckles.
“Exactly like that,” He smiles and thrusts his fingers in and out again, increasing his pace as your breath starts to quicken.
“Y-Yunho,” You jerk against him, the bubble of a building orgasm once again gathering low in your gut and you scramble in the sheets until you’re legs are open as wide as possible, one leg hitched over his. You can’t stop watching him now, the lean muscle of his arm, the way the tendons in his forearm twitch with his movements. Pushing up on your forearms you catch sight of his index, middle, and ring fingers gathered tightly together, glistening with your wetness as they plunge in and out of your fluttering cunt.
“So beautiful,” He groans, kissing your temple and wrapping his free arm around your back to adjust to the position change, giving his arm enough leverage that he can keep thrusting in and out.
You moan at the heady sensation of his fingers at your g-spot, hips pushing down into his hand.
“Want you to come again,” He says hotly against your hair.
You nod, heels digging into the mattress as your body jerks, needily meeting each stroke of his fingers with your hips.
“Tell me,” He says.
“H-harder,” You beg him, sensation cascading through you, “harder, baby, please,”
“God, yes,” He adjusts, and suddenly you’re pinned back to the mattress flat on your back, one of Yunho’s broad hands stretched wide on your sternum to pin you in place as he fucks you open with the other.
Perfect, almost painful pleasure has your eyes slamming shut and a desperate whine on your lips, “Oh, oh, oh,” each push in of his fingers punches out a breathy moan, your pussy fluttering as he draws you up to the peak.
“Tell me you’re close,” He pants, “I want to hear it,”
Your nerve endings light up, your body arching under the hard press of his hand, “I’m so close, I’m so f-fucking close,”
“Come for me, baby,”
Your nails dig into his thigh, the pressure mounting inside you, “Again,” you manage, begging for more.
His fingers curl, just a little more, “Come,” he says it again, only this time his tone is sharper, deeper and more direct. It’s not a question, not a wish or a hope, it’s a command.
Your free hand claps over your mouth, stifling a moan and you bite down on the fleshy heel of your hand to keep from screaming.
“Come,” He holds you steady, “that’s it, let go, let it all go, baby,”
Your body erupts into ecstatic shakes, pleasure rolling through in wave after wave, but all you can do is let it.
“Just like that,” He groans, “fuck yes,”
This time, as your orgasm starts to abate, he doesn’t kiss you tenderly or wrap you up for a cuddle, this time he’s just as frantic as you are.
“I need you,” He pants, his body over top of yours once again, “y/n, fuck,”
You blink hard, still a trembling mess, and you see his own desperate expression. His cheeks are pink, brow slick with sweat, pupils dilated with desire as he opens your legs and crowds you with his body.
“T-talk to me,” He manages, his hand directing his weeping cock to your throbbing entrance, “tell me you still want this,”
“I want this,” You reach for him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging him closer, “I want you,”
“God,” He’s shaking, his body taut like a rubber band about to snap, and somewhere inside you you can feel the amount of self control he’s exhibiting just to go slowly.
You moan sharply when his tip drags over your throbbing clit.
“You’re so wet,” He pants, watching between your bodies as he slicks the head of his cock between your folds.
“For you,” You breathe, your head feeling cottony.
“So pretty,” The head of his cock nudges against your entrance and you shiver.
Need sparks through you, “Please,” you tug at his hip, just a little and he smiles.
“Tell me if I need to stop,” He manages, his weight collapsing a little as he slowly starts to push his hips forwards.
You gasp as you start to feel him, your cunt still swollen and pulsing from two back to back orgasms, and his eyes snap up.
Yunho watches your face carefully as he moves, his body strung tight as he tries to hold onto a thread of composure. It feels normal at the start, but as he pushes in past the head, you feel yourself start to stretch wide in a way you’ve never experienced and your breath starts to quicken.
“Oh, fuck,” You look between your bodies, watching his slow sink into your wet heat, and swallow tightly at just how much of him is left to take.
“You okay?” He asks breathlessly.
“Uh-huh,” You manage, “I can feel everything, but god, don't stop,”
He hisses, gripping your thigh with his free hand, fingers still slick with your juices, fighting the urge to lose himself. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his eyes flicking over the expression of tight pleasure on your face.
“Don’t you dare pull out,” You grip down on his shoulders and roll your hips roll a bit, taking him in another inch, “you feel so good,”
He lets out a heady breath, and moves in just a bit more, “Yeah?”
“Never felt anything this good,” You moan as he pushes in further, your walls fluttering and clamping around his hot length.
He rolls his hips this time, just a little experiment to drag himself in and out without fucking into you fully, and he moans when your muscles lock pleasantly around him, “God, you really were made for me,”
“Yours,” You say it like a vow, and in a strange way somewhere in the back of your mind you know it is. A dizzy promise in an almost marriage bed as your bodies sink together.
His breath hitches, cock shifting inside you, his head dropping so that you’re forehead to forehead, “And yours,” he agrees softly.
Your body feels hot suddenly, hotter than before, everything a hazy glow in the dim lighting of your bedroom. You feel all at once like you’re in the moments before a wave, the sudden suck back of the water with all the sand slipping away from underneath your feet, leaving you unsteady and sinking into the earth. Your ears catch with a dull ring.
Your breath is comes quickly now, warmth flushing your chest and cheeks, and your nails tighten on his skin, “Yunho,”
He adjusts to meet your gaze, and you realize he’s feeling exactly what you are, the thrumming sensation of it all but swirling around you in the air. He blinks hard, “I’m.. I need,”
You understand him without words, you know exactly what he needs because you need it too. Through the fog of sensation, you pull lightly on his shoulders and hitch your calves on his hips, drawing him in deeper, “Please,”
His hips drop, seating himself just a little more and you moan at the stretching sensation. He’s holding himself back, clinging to the one clear thought that he promised he’d take care of you, but his resolve is crumbing apart before your eyes.
“Yunho,” You cup his cheek, begging him with your expression to let go, “I need you,”
He swallows hard, his chest flushed red, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.
The words flood out of you, a whispered confession just for him, “I love you, please,”
He exhales in a rush, a wide smile breaking across his face, his eyes shining, and without any more hesitation he thrusts forwards and sinks his full length inside you.
You moan sharply, wrapping your arms around him as he drops his body down on yours, sweat slick skin pressed flush together. The hot dizziness grows, and he finds your lips, moaning against your mouth as he kisses you hard. Your bodies start to move in sync, a tandem push and pull as he rolls into the cradle of your hips, your breath tangled together as you rock in the sheets.
Yunho leans his forehead against yours, pumping his hips slow and firm, “I love you,”
The sensation grows, filling the air around you and a chill rushes up your spine, the hair on your arms standing up at attention, the magnetic pull between your bodies so forceful you don’t think a single thing in the world could drag you away from him. Emotion rocks through the link, and then all at once you feel it snap into place.
Your tattoo burns, the brand igniting just like when you touched his cheek for the first time, and you suck in a sharp breath. Yunho’s hips stutter in pace, sinking himself deep until your bodies are nestled together with every inch of him buried inside you.
He’s breathing heavy, arms wrapped tight around you, hands trembling, “I can feel you,” he leans up an inch, smoothing your hair back from your face, “you’re,”
His words die on his lips but he touches his chest and you nod, you feel him too. One single heartbeat, one breath. The link before was nothing, a mere echo of this, a blurry photograph now sharply in focus, and you reach up to brush your fingers along his cheek, his lips, a ghost of the sensation along your own face.
“How is this real?” Tears prick at your eyes. You’ve seen the movies, read the books, you’ve talked to people who have found their soulmates before, but nothing could have prepared you for this. You feel him inside you as if he were a part of you, his skin your skin, his emotions, even the shape of his thoughts.
You understand all at once why people say it’s possible to die of a broken heart. If you ever lost him, lost this…
“I’m here,” He interrupts your internal spiral, dipping to press a kiss to your lips, “I’m not going anywhere,”
“How did you,” You shake your head in strange awe of the feeling, “what is this?”
“I don’t know,” He kisses you again, “I just knew, I felt it,”
Tears spill over, snaking back into your hairline, and you press your palm to his chest, sliding down over his tattoo. Words fail you, all you can feel is the overwhelming breadth of your souls together. How could anyone live without this, how could anyone believe this isn’t real?
“Don’t cry,” He soothes, wiping the tears from your temples with his thumb.
“I’m happy,” You manage, finding his eyes again, “Yunho, I’m so happy,”
He grins, his breath catching in his throat as he lets his forehead rest on yours again and he nods, “Me too,”
His love thrums through you, tangible and solid, a truth you didn’t know you could have. You’re grinning too now, an elated laugh on your lips as you wrap your arms around him, “Fuck,” you thread your fingers in his hair, nuzzling into him, “you love me,”
“So much,” He confesses quietly, “I didn’t know I could love someone like this,”
“Me too,” You press your lips to his, sighing into him, “I love you too,”
The kisses feel like his love actualized, nothing more true than his mouth, his need, and yours reflected back in the mirror of his desire. You moan as another wave of heat floods through you, and Yunho shudders.
For a moment, there’s nothing more to say, tangled together in your bed in the middle of Seoul, time seemingly standing still just for you. Tightly locked together, you both start to move again. Each slow pump of his hips down is met with an upward roll of yours, his cock slowly stroking in and out of your pulsing center, your arms wrapped around each other as you pant and moan.
You crumble apart together, still deep beneath the dizzy waves, his mouth hot against your ear as he releases inside you, your cunt fluttering and spasming around him, drawing him in, holding him inside.
**this part was too long for tumblr's new word count guidelines! please check out the second half of this part, here!
The Girl at the Gig - Gyeong-Su loves music, but he can't sing to save his life. But you can, the girl who loves music as much as he does. The two of you follow bands around the country, but maybe with his lyrics and your voice, you could bring the house down with your own performance.
*ੈ Y’all know that position where the girls giving a guy a handjob and he’s kind of like draped over the girls lap while sucking on her tits? ‘Cause that position is so Dae-ho coded
cw: titty sucking, lowk sub!Dae-ho, handjob
You let out a soft moan, biting your lip as Dae-ho groaned around your nipple. Your hand both tightening and speeding up around his cock. You looked down at Dae-ho, mostly being able to see his hair while he sucked on your tits like a lifeline. His hands messily fondling with your tits, thumb brushing over your perk, neglected nipple.
You chuckled as you circled the pad of your hand over his sensitive tip, eliciting a louder moan to escape his lips as he pulled back. He bit his lip to help silence his groan as he watched your hand work wonders on his cock with half closed, lusted over eyes. The pleasure making him feel almost too weak to move, due to the fact he came mere seconds ago, Head leaning back as he let out a pathetic whimper.
Your free arm was resting along his back to help Dae-ho support his own body weight. You shifted your arm slightly so that your arm is supporting more of his arm instead of his back, snaking your hand up to grip his chin and turn his face up to see you.
“Feel good?” You asked teasingly, tightening your grip as you made way up to the tip of his cock. His previously droopy eyes widening slightly as you made him look up at you, nodding at your words while his gulped down saliva that gathered up in his mouth.
“Yeah, feels s’good.” He mumbled in reply, about to go back to your tits before your lips landed on his, eliciting a surprised but rather welcoming gasp from him. Quickly leaning into the kiss, middle and ring finger enveloping and tugging at one of your nipples.
A whine fell from his lips as you pulled away, just to move his arm push him down onto the bed. His eyes watching your every move, his breath catching in his throat, watching you throw your leg over to the other side of his legs and lean up over top of him. Hands running up and down his chest, smirking down at him and as your voice took on a more teasing, excited and seductive edge. “Good. Let me make you feel even better,”
Synopsis: Desperate to start afresh and build a life for the both of you, Nam-Gyu searches for a new job. But, with no qualification and no experience, will anyone take a chance on him?
A/N: I saw this gif and it instantly made me think of his itchy interview suit i’d pictured 🥹
Nam-Gyu’s suit was itchy, the fabric pinching at his skin as he sat in the waiting area. His tie was too tight, the uncomfortable compression around his neck making him squirm in his seat. He wasn’t sure why he’d let his brother talk him into borrowing his old suit; it was poorly fitting and the beige colour did nothing for him.
But Nam-Gyu had been desperate, and had nowhere else to turn. You’d been living together for two months now, both of you searching for different jobs that would hopefully lead to better prospects and more money. You’d manage to find a job in a florist, and although it paid almost as poorly as the hostess job, you were so happy. It was what you’d always wanted to do, and your boss was incredible.
Nam-Gyu had decided to take his father’s advice and find a proper job, something in insurance or finance. He’d always been so scared of having a “normal” job, so terrified of becoming another nobody. But he didn’t feel like that anymore; not with you. You made him feel like he could do anything, and for the first time in his life he was happy to blend peacefully into the background. He had you, and you were all he needed.
He’d been looking for jobs for weeks but had been turned down at every corner. He had no real experience, and had never stepped foot inside an office before. This junior finance assistant job was quite probably his last chance, otherwise he’d have to go searching for a job as a waiter. He wanted a job that could support you, that could relieve some of the financial stress you were both under. He’d been awake most of the night thinking about this interview, and as he sat waiting his palms were sweating.
His parents hadn’t spoken to him since the night they kicked him out. Nam-Gyu was hoping that if he got this job he could show his father how hard he’d been working, that he’d finally decided to grow up. He really wanted them to meet you as well, to meet the girl he’d fallen head over heels for. His brothers had met you, and while they would never admit it to Nam-Gyu, they thought you were perfect for him. You grounded their little brother, kept him stable but at the same time made him happier than they had ever seen him. He was an entirely different person around you, no longer cocky and brash, but sweet and gentle. You two were made for each other.
“Park Nam-Gyu?”
His head snapped up at his name to see a woman in a sharp suit eyeing him through a doorway.
“We’re ready for you now.”
Heading into the interview room, he tried to swallow his nerves, wiping his sweaty hands on his itchy suit. A group of two men and one woman sat opposite him, their faces stony as he sat down. His throat suddenly felt impossibly dry, his lungs no longer seemed to work. He couldn’t take a full breath, and he was desperate for a glass of water.
“Tell us a bit about yourself,” one of the men said. “Do you have any experience in finance or accounting?”
“Uh… well…” Nam-Gyu knew the interview was over before it had even begun. He had no experience of anything other than standing out in the cold handing out leaflets that nobody wanted. He’d been rejected for every job he’d applied for, and he knew this one wouldn’t be any different. So what did he have to lose?
“No, not as such.” He admitted. “I was a club promoter for many years. I spent most of my time trying to attract customers to different venues around Seoul.”
“And were you successful?” The woman asked, her razor sharp eyebrow raised high.
“For the most part,” he lied. He wasn’t going to make himself look like a complete idiot.
“So why the change of career?” She asked him.
“Well,” he smiled as he pictured you. “I fell in love. I didn’t think I ever would but I’ve met someone I want to spend the rest of my life with, and that means I need a job; a real job.”
He couldn’t tell how the rest of the interview went. He wasn’t able to answer any accounting related questions, but they asked him lots of questions about his life in general.
He had a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach as he made his way home, eager to shed the uncomfortable suit.
“How did it go?” You squealed, as soon he came through the front door. You’d been a bag of nerves all day, checking your phone every two minutes in case he’d texted you.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, hastily removing his suit jacket and pants. “I was honest and told them I didn’t have experience.”
You could sense his frustration, and you wished there was something you could do to help him. He’d been working so hard the last few months, studying accountancy books he picked up at the library, staying up until the early hours of the morning apply for jobs. You wished someone would take a chance on him, to see the hard worker he was.
The two of you spent the rest of the day on the sofa with the TV playing a show neither of you could concentrate on. Nam-Gyu kept checking his phone, refreshing his email every five minutes to see if anything had come through. With each passing minute, his hope waned. No one was going to take a chance on him; not that he blamed them. There was a cafe down the road that was looking for part time workers. He’d head there tomorrow and fill out an application.
It was late when his phone rang, the two of you half asleep in front of the TV. Nam-Gyu shot up at the sound, noticing a number on the screen he wasn’t familiar with.
“Oh my god! It could be them!” You cried, “answer it! Answer it!”
You clapped your hand over your mouth to stay silent, the nervous excitement almost bursting out of you.
“Hello?” He answered the phone, his voice shaking.
“Park Nam-Gyu, this is Kim Ha-Ri from the interview today. I’m just calling because we’d like to offer you the job.”
Nam-Gyu couldn’t speak for a few moments. He’d been so sure he hadn’t got it, was so sure he’d been passed over that he didn’t know what to say.
“Mr Park? Can you hear me?”
“Y-yes,” he stammered, shooting you a quick thumbs up, his face beaming. “That’s incredible, thank you much.”
“Can you start tomorrow? 8am?”
“Absolutely! Thank you so much, I’ll see you then.”
The call ended and he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, finally things were starting to come together.
“I’m so proud of you,” you smiled, pulling him close to you. “You just watch. It’s only up from here, I promise.”
Nam-Gyu was determined to make this new job a turning point. He was going to make good money, find a new place for you both to live that wasn’t cramped and damp, save up enough that he could take you on holiday. He wanted to show his parents that he had changed, that he was capable of becoming a son they could be proud of.
For the first time in months, you both slept soundly, the prospect of a new life so close you could almost touch it.
Ateez was about to go on tour again. This time they’re finally going to perform in many new cities they’ve never been before. It was exciting to be able to see new Atinys. One of those new cities was San Diego and you when looking at their schedule you noticed something.
The day after Ateez’s concert there, Comic Con will be held!
When you realized this, you knew your boyfriend has to go. So you asked his managers about the in depth schedule and for permission to let him go to the convention.
After going back and forth a little bit, going over how long you can be there, his and your safety etc. You got the green light.
“YUYUUUU!! YUYU! I have a surprise for youuuuu!” You yell out as you run to him when he got home from practice.
“Woah baby?? What’s up?” He asks surprised as he catches you in a hug.
“You’re going to San Diego this tour right??” You ask with a big smile.
“Yeah! Yeah I am. Why??”
“Yes you are! I realized that and realized that.. Comic Con is being held a day after your performance there!! And I just ask your managers for permission and they’re letting you go!” You explain.
“Woah wait really?! Comic Con?? Isn’t it that big convention for like.. marvel, disney, anime and video games??” He asks with wide excited eyes.
“Yuuuuuppp!!! And I cheeecked.. they’re gonna have a panel for the new Spider-Man movie!!!! And saw there’s gonna be a Valorant booth!”
“…I’m so fucking in love with you! Omg thank you thank youuu!!” He exclaims as he picks you up and spins you around.
When he puts you down, he leans down to give you a big kiss.
“You’re welcome baby!! And actually I have one more surprise! Come!”
“More?! Baby you’re spoiling me!”
“Only the best for the love of my life!”
You dragged him to the bedroom and made him sit down. You go to your desk to pick up a box and handed it to him.
“Open!”
He smiles at you before opening the box to reveal an authentic Spider-Man mask, and a Spider-Man hoodie.
“Sweetheart!! Oh my god this is awesome!!!”
“Well my Spider-Man needs a mask! And I think you should wear this when you go to Comic Con!”
“Wait really??”
“Comic con is crowded love.. And while I don’t think most people would recognize you, not that you’re not famous enough! Just.. different demographic yknow.”
“I get it darling.” He cuts you off momentarily to reassure you he understands what you meant.
“I’m saying that the managers told me that you still need to hide your identity out there. And I thought rather than you going in with a plain black mask and a hat. You can wear this!! Dress for the occasion! Like this!” You explained to him before pulling out your phone to show him some casual Spider-Man cosplays that you know would suit (pun not intended) him.
“You’re such a genius! God I couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend. Thank you so much my love!” He thanks, nothing but pure love and gratitude in his eyes.
“Of course sweetheart!” You reply, giving him a loving kiss.
.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.
It was the day of Comic Con and Yunho couldn’t be more excited. He was absolutely buzzing with excitement in the car ride. You were actually kinda worried he’d be too tired to go since he absolutely killed it at the concert the night before. Yet when you finally arrived he practically leaped out of the car.
You had nothing to worry about.
“I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours.” His manager said.
“Got it!” You giggled as you hoped out to chase after him.
You almost lost him since there were a few Spider-Man cosplayers but you did eventually catch up to him.
“Omg Yuyu calm down!” You giggle.
“I’m just excited!” He exclaimed.
“I know baby.” You laughed.
“Thank you again for this surprise! It really means the world to me!”
You simply smiled up at him, lifting up his mask and giving him a soft kiss.
He smiled back before pulling down his mask and pulling you closer to him.
Comic con will be comic con! It was absolutely packed so Yunho always made sure you were right next to him. Holding your hand or waist tightly to make sure you two don’t get separated.
Walking around you both were amazed by all the cosplayers and booths. You two splurged a little and bought some merch of all of your favorite franchises. You even got to meet and take pictures with some Youtubers and streamers that were there. It was really so fun.
And actually to your surprise some people wanted to take pictures with you too.
Since of course today you decided to dress up as well. So while Yunho went as Spider-Man you went as your favorite character. It was a very simple costume but very recognizable like Yunho’s. It was also an experience for Yunho when people wanted his photo for the first time ever not as Yunho from Ateez but as Spider-Man.
“Wow love, I didn’t realize you’d be more famous than me here.” Yunho chuckles after another person asked for your photo.
“Well what can I say? I guess I’m just irreeesistableee!” You giggle. (5 points to anyone who gets this reference)
.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.
“Phew, this mask gets hot after a while.” Yunho chuckles taking off his mask while you two were sitting down, waiting for the Marvel Studios panel.
“I can imagine.” You say as you gave him a water bottle and wiped off some of his sweat for him.
“Thank you darling.” He smiles, giving you a kiss before taking a sip.
Soon enough the panel started and you both were thoroughly hyped and entertained throughout the entire thing. Yunho almost jumped out of his seat and fell when they announced what the new Spider-Man movie was gonna be, the release date and who was gonna be in it.
“Oh We’re SOOOOO watching this movie!” He exclaimed.
You could really only giggle at his antics.
Once the panel was over you knew you were gonna get picked up soon. So when in the far distance you finally saw the Valorant booth you grabbed your boyfriend by the hoodie and dragged him there.
He was so confused but let you do it anyway. And when he finally saw the booth he was so fuckin floored. He then picked you up and sprinted to the booth.
“OMG Yuyu put me doooown!”
“WE HAVE NO TIME!”
He eventually did put you down to look around and of course splurge on more merch. You stood behind him as he did this and you just had the biggest smile.
You always love how giddy your boyfriend gets when it comes to his hobbies and interests. It’s just a delight and an adorable sight. If Spider-Man right now had a tail it’d be wagging so bad.
Soon his manager gave you the call.
It was time to leave as he had another show in two days and he needed to rest. He honestly didn’t want to leave yet but he knew he had to. So hand in hand you two left the building and got into the managers car. Once inside you two felt the exhaustion actually.
Yunho eventually did fall asleep on the way to the hotel, you had to take off his mask for him. Once back in the hotel and in the comforts of your room, you both got ready for an early night in.
“Thank you again for this day baby. It meant so much.”
“Anything Spidey.” You giggle giving him a kiss before snuggling closer.
“I mean it though. I had the best day, and it’s all thanks to you.” He smiled.
“I know sweetie, I had a blast too.”
“I love you.”
“Love you more.”
The next day, Yunho actually posted about his day at Comic Con on his IG and to Ateez’s twitter to the surprise of many.
They were FREAKING out. ‘Cause not only did Yunho look hella fine as Spider-Man. It made a few Atiny realized that they actually met Yunho at there and had a photo with him. It was so funny and adorable seeing Atiny’s reaction to it.
summary: you find yourself drawn to dae-ho, and it’s becoming harder and harder to hide it, even from yourself; especially during the quiet nights when it’s just the two of you keeping guard.
warning: mutual doting, lovesick but stubborn reader, mention of squid game themes such a death and despair, other than that it’s just fluff, this is my first post so feel free to give me feedback if you’d like to read more, and now please enjoy 🥹💖
word count: 1.7k
Dae-ho had a laugh that made your chest ache. Big, bright, and unrestrained, it echoed through the cold dormitory like sunlight breaking through cracks in a prison wall. It was absurd, really, how easily it pulled at the corners of your lips, how it made your heart feel too big for your ribcage.
He was an exception; you didn't know why, but he was. He was the opposite of death. Of fear. Of blood and betrayal. Quite the opposite of everything that reminded you of this hellish place. He didn't belong here. And you were confident, that even a blind person would see that for he was warmth and light, he radiated it, throughout each day you survived. You didn't know how he managed it, how he could smile, laugh, and joke even in the face of the horrors around you. It wasn't fake; you'd learned to recognize false optimism in this place, no, Dae-ho's joy was real, a stubborn defiance against the darkness threatening to swallow you all whole.
You sat across the room, waiting for the guards to let you out to the bathrooms once the other group returned. Your back rested against the wall as you watched him animatedly recount some ridiculous story from his military days to Jung-bae, with other players listening in. Mentally, you were already preparing for the night ahead, after all, you and Dae-ho were tasked with keeping watch together, a plan Gi-hun had devised in case any of the other players decided to attack. The group had agreed to take turns, so it was nothing out of the ordinary.
And yet, it was.
You and Dae-ho, all alone while the world slept? Why did the thought of that suddenly make you nervous?
Dae-ho's hands moved in exaggerated gestures, his grin wide enough to rival the cheshire cat's. Even in this pit of despair, his energy was magnetic, drawing people in like moths to a flame. And you weren't immune to it, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise.
His eyes caught yours mid-laugh, and for a split second, the world seemed to freeze. His smile softened, his gaze lingering on you just a little longer than it should have. Your stomach flipped, a sudden rush of butterflies that made you look away, feigning disinterest even as your pulse quickened.
You weren't used to this feeling, this fluttering in your chest, this heat that rose to your cheeks every time he said your name or brushed against you in passing. It was ridiculous. You weren't the kind of person who got swept up in someone else's orbit. You were guarded, careful, a fortress built from years of self-preservation. But Dae-ho... he was different. He didn't just knock on the gates, he scaled the walls with that infuriating smirk of his.
It wasn't just his smile or his laugh that drew you in. It was the way he saw people, not just as competitors or threats, but as humans. The way he helped were he could, even though it put himself at risk. The way he noticed when someone was on the verge of breaking and managed to say just the right thing to pull them back from the edge. The way he noticed you.
You hated how easily he could read you. You prided yourself on being unreadable, untouchable, but with Dae-ho, it was like he saw straight through every mask you wore. He never called you out on it, never pressed, but the way his gaze softened when you spoke or the way he offered you his rations without a word told you everything you needed to know.
It terrified you.
And yet, here you were, stealing glances like a lovesick teenager, your mind betraying you with thoughts of how his golden skin glowed under the dim lights, how his broad shoulders looked like they could carry the weight of the world, how his laugh felt like a secret you wanted to hoard, to keep for yourself.
He was the sunshine to your shadows, the golden retriever to your black cat. His warmth threatened to melt the ice you'd spent years cultivating around your heart, and you weren't sure if you wanted to stop him. But you'd never say any of this out loud. You barely allowed yourself to even think all of this. No, you weren't foolish enough to let yourself hope for something in a place like this.
Because no matter how sweet the what if's could be, your reality was cruel, always has been. So instead, you decided to watch him from afar, heart aching with the weight of unspoken words, as the seconds ticked closer to the night which would give way to the next day and the next game that might tear you apart.
Thirty minutes later, the dormitory was dim and quieter than usual, the faint hum of the fluorescent X and O on the ground and the transparent piggy bank full of blood-money above, the only sounds aside from the occasional snoring and shuffling of restless players. Most had fallen into an uneasy sleep, and here you were, being tasked with keeping watch.
You and Dae-ho were sitting across from each other near your group, shielded by spare mattresses. You sat on the cold metal floor, your back resting against a stack of unused bunk beds. Dae-ho was perched across from you, one leg bent, the other stretched out in front of him. His head was tilted back slightly, his eyes scanning the room, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips as though you weren't both surrounded by people who'd kill you without a second thought. You didn't know how he managed it, how he could find light in a place like this.
"You're staring," he said suddenly, his voice low but playful.
Your cheeks burned, and you looked away quickly, your arms crossing defensively over your chest. "I'm not."
He chuckled softly, the sound like a warm breeze cutting through the icy tension of the room. "Sure, you're not."
"Focus, Dae-ho," you muttered, trying to mask your embarrassment. "You're supposed to be watching for threats, not making jokes."
"I can multitask," he replied, his grin widening. "Besides, I'd argue you're more distracting than anyone sneaking around here."
You shot him a glare, but your heart fluttered at his words. "You're impossible."
"I've been called worse," he said, leaning back. His dark eyes softened as they met yours. "But you... you're something else."
You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened, brushing his words off with a scoff. "Flattery isn't going to keep us alive, you know."
"No, but it's better than sitting in silence," he said. Then, after a pause, his voice turned quieter, more serious. "You don't talk much. Why is that?"
Your gaze flickered to him, surprised by the sudden change in his tone. "What's the point?" you asked after a moment. "It's not like anyone here is worth trusting."
He tilted his head, studying you. "Do you trust me?"
You hesitated, the weight of his question pressing down on you. The truth was, you didn't know. You wanted to, desperately, but trust was dangerous in a place like this.
"I don't know," you admitted finally. "Do you trust me?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. "I think I do," he said softly. "You've got this... thing about you. Like you're always a couple steps ahead of everyone else."
You raised an eyebrow. "That's a nice way of saying I'm paranoid."
"Smart," he corrected, his grin returning. "And I like smart."
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't hide the small smile tugging at your lips. "You're ridiculous."
"And you're stubborn," he shot back, his tone light but affectionate. "But this just adds to the list of all the things I like about you. We make a good team, you know."
The words hung in the air, heavier than they should have been. You glanced away, your cheeks warming despite the chill of the room. "You shouldn't say things like that," you muttered, your voice quieter now.
"Why not?" he asked, his tone teasing but curious. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"No," you shock your head quickly, though the butterflies in your stomach betrayed you. "It's just... we don't know how this is going to end. It's better not to-" You stopped yourself, unsure of how to finish.
"Not to what?" he pressed, his voice softer now. "Care?"
You looked at him then, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes were steady, searching, but not pushing. It was so unlike the Dae-ho you were used to, the loud, laughing sunshine of the group. This version of him, quiet and sincere, was harder to guard against.
"It's dangerous," you finally said, barely above a whisper.
His lips quirked into a small smile, but there was no teasing this time. "Everything here is dangerous. Doesn't mean it's not worth it."
For a moment, you didn't know what to say. The silence stretched between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt... warm, somehow. Safe.
"Why do you do that?" you asked quietly, breaking the silence.
"Do what?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Act like everything's fine," you said, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. "Like we're not all fighting for our lives."
His smile faltered, just for a second. "Because someone has to," he admitted. "If we all give in to the fear, what's left? I can't control what happens tomorrow, but I can try to make today a little less awful. Even if it's just for a moment."
Your chest tightened at his words. He said it so casually, like it wasn't the most selfless thing you'd ever heard.
"You should get some rest," you said, focusing on the shadows dancing across the floor, your voice quieter now, "I'll take it from here."
"And leave you all alone? Not a chance," he decided, stretching his arms behind his head. "Besides, I'm enjoying the company."
You didn't reply, but your heart betrayed you, beating a little faster at his words. As the night stretched on, you sat together in the dim light. And for the first time in days, you felt a faint sense of calm, not because you believed things would be okay, but because, for now, you weren't alone. Neither of you said it aloud, the weight of unspoken feelings heavy between you, but for now, it was enough.
