with an accidental package swap with your neighbor, jeong yunho, the one who keeps you up at night with his constant yelling. when an opportunity to make a big check comes your way yunho somehow is the only person who can help, luckily for him he finds you hot, and who is he to pass up the chance to sleep with you.
𐀔𓂃 kais note: thank you so much for enjoying my first yunho work! i never realized how fun they are to write for and i will continue to put out more for them! i hope you enjoyed and stick around for the next short smau!
Summary: Summer heat can drive anyone insane, but what if it suddenly drives you to ignore all the signs telling you not to do something? Because how can something so sweet be so wrong? Or, when (Y/n) spends the summer in a small town she hasn't been in since she was young, and she meets 8 irresistible boys who make her summer quite interesting.
Wordcount ≈ 2.5k
Warnings: Very suggestive, mdni, a lot of kissing, half the members being shirtless like all the time, a lot of teasing, nicknames, breaking and entering, trespassing, I think that's it, let me know if I missed anything.
Thank you for the request! At first, I was so lost on what to write, but after watching the mv like 20 times, I got an idea. I hope you enjoy it!
Please reblog, comment, and/or like if you enjoyed this!
Summer vacation during your uni years isn’t always easy, sometimes spent in cities where you don’t exactly know anyone. (Y/n) was contacted by her aunt, who asked if (Y/n) could watch her house over the summer while the aunt goes on a vacation with her family. (Y/n) agreed, even getting a job at a nearby café. The town isn’t super big, but (Y/n) found it cozy.
Day 2 of watching her aunt’s house, (Y/n) goes out for a late-night drive, wanting to see the scenery under the moonlight. However, on the way back, her car decided to break down, refusing to start back up. Fortunately for her, two cars approach her, filled with eight very handsome guys around her age. They ask her if she’s having car trouble, to which she responds yes. They smile, saying, no worries, as they own the town's auto shop, they can help her out.
“Thank you, guys, I thought I’d be stranded out here all night,” “Don’t worry about it, cutie. I’m Hongjoong, by the way. This is Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, Mingi, and Jongho,” They all waved as their name was called, she smiled at them, waving back. “I’m (Y/n),” They hooked her car up to one of theirs, helping her tow it back to the shop.
Technically, the boys could have fixed her car within a day, but they were all drawn to her, wanting to spend more time together, so they came up with a scheme, tricking her into believing the repairs were going to take longer, maybe even up to a month, but she didn’t have to worry, they can be her personal drivers in the meantime.
~~~
The next day, after driving her home. Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Yunho, and San show up at her house, as she had said, she needed to drive to the town’s laundry mat to wash a bunch of clothes. So here they were, ready to help her out. The summer sun was blazing down on them, and everyone had a small layer of sweat on their faces.
While (Y/n) is loading the machines with her clothes, Hongjoong says that he, Yunho, and San would go to the café next door and get something cold to drink. This left her alone with Seonghwa for a while, and he didn’t miss the chance, to get to know her, more intimately.
He walked up closer to her, trapping her against a wall, leaning in close, whispering in her ear, “You look very sweet, did you know that? It’s hard to resist wanting a taste,” (Y/n) would be dumb to say that she didn’t find them hot, but was this really smart? Who cares at this point? She was just going to be here for the summer. “Don’t resist it then,” That was all it took before Seonghwa dove in, stealing a passionate kiss, more like a make-out session as their lips chased each other in the heat, the lights flickering above them, not even the electricity stood a chance in this heat.
They broke a part right before the others came back inside, with ice-cold lemonade for all of them. Hongjoong noticed the tension but didn’t mention it. Only handing the lemonade to (Y/n), pulling it back right before she took it, making her stumble a bit, “Sorry, darling, you’re just fun to play with,”
~~~
(Y/n) checked in on them sometimes to see them working on her car, Mingi, Yunho, and San, of course, doing it without wearing shirts, smirking at her as they noticed her staring at their abs, and they happily showed it off. Putting on a show for her. Mingi pulled her aside, with the excuse to ‘look at some papers,’ but the second they were in the office, he sat down on the couch, pulling her with him. She ended up straddling his lap, oh this was so wrong, but hey, do it for the plot, right?
“Like what you see, princess?” Mingi asked as he dragged his hands along her body, he was still shirtless, her hands lightly dragged from his shoulder, down over his sculpted chest, down to his abs, and back up. “Who wouldn’t like this view?” She responded, Mingi chuckled, pulling her a little closer, “Want a taste?” He asked as he looked between her eyes and her lips, but she didn’t respond. She leaned in, placing her lips against his.
The kiss was surprisingly more gentle than the one she shared with Seonghwa, yet still very hot. When they broke the kiss, (Y/n), got up from his lap, blowing him a kiss, “Don’t miss me too much,” Before she walked out of there, leaving him shocked and impressed.
~~~
Another night, someone suddenly knocked on her door, she opened it, finding Yeosang and Jongho there, asking if she wanted to join them for an adventure, of course, she did. She grabbed a long sleeve before following them out the door, soon enough finding herself in an empty parking garage. In a shopping cart, being pushed around as if they were playing Mario Kart, it was scary, exciting, and oh so wrong. Tresspassing, hanging out with these boys, all of it so wrong, but why did it feel so right?
As Jongho pushed Yeosang’s cart away, (Y/n) found herself alone with who she had found out to be the youngest of the group. He seemed a bit more shy than the other two she had spent alone time with, but she didn’t mind taking the wheel on this one. She was intrigued, wondering if he tasted as sweet as he looked. This time, she was the one to pin someone against a wall, leaning in towards the boy. She noticed how he looked at her, “Want a taste, cutie?” Suddenly, the shy boy was gone, replaced with a beast who needed a taste.
His lips met hers in a fiery kiss, hands moving everywhere, grabbing at everything, hands in each other's hair, lips against lips, lips against someone’s neck, all of it a blur in the dark, only breaking a part once they heard Yeosang calling out, “That was amazing!”
~~~
The next night, the person who knocked on her door was Hongjoong, asking if she wanted to take a late-night drive with him, she expected a car as she stepped out, but was surprised to find a motorcycle. “I’m not getting on that death trap,” “Come on, darling, don’t you trust me?” “If I die, I’m gonna haunt your ass for the rest of your life,” “Deal, now come on, hold on tight,”
They drove around until Hongjoong came to a stop in the middle of nowhere, with only the moon shining above them. He turned around, facing her on the bike, removing her helmet, and his, “You look delish like this, clinging to me, did you know that darling?” “Stop toying with me already, Joong” “Fiesty, I like it,”
Their lips met in a hot kiss, fighting for who would decide the pace. Even though it was in the middle of the night, everything felt hot; it was hard to control themselves at this point. Hongjong gently bit her lip, winning the fight, controlling the pace. Switching from fast to slow, his hands feeling around her body, finding their favorite place to be on her ass, squeezing it every now and then. All until, the bike slightly trembled, moving to the side as they put all their weight to one side, it kind of killed the mood. So they returned to the town, back to reality.
~~~
Yunho visits her at work, one slow afternoon, asking for something sweet. What she didn’t expect was for him to turn the open sign to closed and pull her into the back. “This is wrong, you know,” She said, although her body seemed to scream that this was right, as her hands couldn’t resist reaching out, running along his tall, toned body. “Mm, I can always leave, if that’s what you want, sugar,” “Shut up and kiss me already, pretty boy,” (Y/n) jumped up, Yunho caught her, putting her back against a wall, as they kissed.
Their lips moving slowly against each other, Yunho’s hands holding onto her thighs tightly, trying to keep calm, not wanting to lose control completely. he pushed his hips a little toward her, both of them moaning at the contact, “Is that all you got, pretty boy?” (Y/n) teased as they broke a part for a second to breath, Yunho dove in again, this time kissing her with more urgency, holding onto her tighter, rolling his hips up again, earning another muffled moan out of the girl.
Their moment was broken by a knock on the front door. Someone opened it, calling out, “Hello?” “Shit, that’s the owner of the café,” (Y/n) said as Yunho let her down, she smoothed out her clothes, jogging out, “Sorry, Mrs. Kim, just had a bit of an emergency out back, but it’s all good now,” “Good to hear, (Y/n), well, you can go home now, I’ll close out,” “Okay, bye, Mrs. Kim!” (Y/n) didn’t hesitate to run back, pulling Yunho with her out the backdoor, laughing, never having felt thrill like this.
~~~
The next day as she went over to the shop, Wooyoung was washing cars outside, shirtless, as usual, in jeans, though they were drenched, and so was he. His hair wet, clinging to his forehead, (Y/n) had to fight the urge to run her hands through it, push it away. Wooyoung smirked as he saw her. She was wearing a cami top and jean shorts, it was too good a chance to pass up. He turned the water hose in her direction, spraying water all over her until she was as wet and drenched as he was.
“Wooyoung, you asshole, why?” “You looked a bit hot, thought I’d cool you down a bit, honey,” (Y/n) ran over, chasing him around a bit, “You’ll pay for this,” eventually she managed to catch him, as he sliped on some of the water, landing on the ground, without any injuries, she pinned him down by stradling him as he laid on the ground.
“Oh, in public, daring, I like it,” “Shut up, you snake, you ruined my favorite outfit,” “I’ll buy you a new one if you allow me to ruin it a bit more,” He said as one of his hands went up, lightly snapping one of the bands against her collarbone. “I know other ways you could repay me,” She said, leaning closer, her lips ghosting over his neck, then his jawline, then his lips, giving him just a tiny peck, before getting off him.
“Hey, come back, you can’t just leave like that,” He said as he began standing up, “Oh, can’t I?” She said, raising a brow, before turning around and walking away, swaying her hips to tease him. Wooyoung bit his lip, damn she was hot. Before running after her, turning her around, smashing his lips against hers, wet skin clinging to wet skin. Water drops falling from their hair, mixing in with the kiss. “You’re still an asshole,” (Y/n) said as they broke apart, slightly out of breath, “And you’re still sweet like honey,”
~~~
Yeosang knocks on her door in the middle of the night, waking her up, asking if she wanted to go on another adventure with him. Of course, she said yes because who was she to refuse a good time? He told her to bring a bikini, or better yet, not to, but she did. Yeosang brings her to a pool house, breaking in and bringing her to the rooftop pool.
They swim around for a while, playing around. She’s in a bikini, he’s in swimtrunks. They splash each other every now and then, chasing one another around. Until eventually, (Y/n) ends up pinned to a wall, sitting on the steps, Yeosang leaning against her, his eyes looking like those of a predator. Travelling over her body, his hands following, pulling her a bit closer.
“I’ve heard most of the others talking about how sweet your lips are, and I can’t help but feel left out,” “We wouldn’t want that, would we? So, why don’t you do something about it?” (Y/n) responded, curving her finger in a ‘come here’ motion. Yeosang moved closer, his lips ghosting over hers, but he didn’t kiss her, not yet.
Instead, he kissed her cheek, moving down to her neck, sucking on it. Whispering in her ear every now and then, his voice low and thick. Her hands dragged along his back, leaving scratches from her nails, but he didn’t mind. After a few minutes, he finally caught her lips, kissing her, their tongues dancing together like a flame dancing in the wind. Their moment was interrupted by the sound of security coming closer. “Fuck, come on, let’s run,” And so they ran from security in nothing but a bikini and swimtrunks, but they managed to get away, hearts beating fast with thrill and lust.
~~~
Another night, as she was cooking dinner, a knock sounded on her door. She went to open it, finding San on the other side, he was holding a bag filled with snacks and ice cream. He held it up, “Want some company?” “Sure, come in, I’m just making dinner right now,”
San joined her for dinner, and they ate, talking about their days. It was calm and nice. After eating, they moved to the couch, putting on a movie, and opening the snacks. Now, the movie was bad, boring, and (Y/n) could think of something she would much rather do than watch it. So she tried it out.
She moved closer to San; he didn’t move away, quite the opposite, he welcomed her closer. At first, she just leaned against him, but that didn’t stop the movie from being boring. So, she climbed into his lap, straddling him. “Oh, well, hello,” He said as his hands landed on her thighs, squeezing just a little. “Hi,” She said back, as she moved around a little, until she was comfortable on his lap, something that had him clenching his jaw.
“Careful there, darling, I don’t like a tease,” “But this is so much more fun than that freaking movie,” “I can’t argue with that,” (Y/n) moved around again, slightly grinding against him, he cracked his neck a little, in half annoyance, half intrigue. The next time she moved, he brought a hand up, cupping her jaw, bringing her lips down to his.
She continued grinding on him, as their lips moved against one another, tasting of ice cream and chips, the sweet and salty mix was intoxicating, neither one could have enough. This was way better than watching some boring movie where nothing happens.
(Y/n) knew just one thing: If this was how her whole summer was going to be, full of thrills and hot guys, she never wanted it to end, because this must be what heaven is like.
│synopsis: the one where hongjoong finally makes a move
│genre: fluff
│trigger warnings: none
│roulette prompt 4 + hongjoong
You were sprawled across the sofa in Hongjoong's studio. Being his best friend meant regular visits to his studio were mandatory - especially when armed with his favorite iced coffee. Though if anyone asked you, the coffee was just a bonus - you were the real gift, a fact you never failed to remind him whenever he pretended to be annoyed by your surprise appearances.
"...and the deadline is in two days! TWO DAYS! How am I supposed to finish this track when the company keeps changing their mind about the direction?" Hongjoong ran his fingers through his blue hair, sprawling on his chair.
You watched him with a small smile playing on your lips, finding his passionate rant endearing. His dedication to his work was one of the things you admired most about him.
Mid-rant, he caught your expression and stopped abruptly. "What?" he asks as your smile only widens, making him suddenly self-conscious. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
You smile. "You're just really cute when you talk."
Hongjoong's face flushes a deep red, and he quickly spins his chair back to face his computer screen. "I-I'm not cute," he mutters, but you can see the tips of his ears turning pink. "And stop distracting me, I need to work."
You got up from the sofa. "Alright, if you really want me to go..." you tease as you take your bag.
Hongjoong's head snaps up immediately, his eyes widening. "Wait, no - I didn't mean..." He trails off, looking torn between his work and not wanting you to leave. "Just... stay a bit longer? Please?"
"Only if you'll agree that you are cute," you say as you come close to him, ruffling his blue fringe. It always surprised you how he maintained his hair so soft while bleaching it at least twice a month. He takes your wrist, his eyes searching yours. "I don't want you thinking I'm cute," he almost whispers, tone suddenly serious as the atmosphere changes. "Y/N... do you really see me only as your cute friend?"
Your heart skips a beat at his question, at the intensity in his gaze as he still holds your wrist. The playful atmosphere from moments ago has shifted into something charged with unspoken feelings. You open your mouth to answer, but the words catch in your throat.
"What do you mean?" you ask softly, though your racing heart tells you that you know exactly what he means.
Hongjoong's grip on your wrist loosens, but he doesn't let go. His thumb traces small circles on your skin, "I mean... when you look at me, when you come here with coffee and make me laugh even on my worst days, when you stay despite my workaholic tendencies... what do you feel?"
You let out an awkward laugh, the sound coming out more like a puff of air than anything else. Your heart is thundering in your chest.
"I..." you start, trying to find the right words while fighting the urge to deflect with humor like you usually do. Your palms are sweaty, and you're terrified of ruining years of friendship with what you might say next. "I come here because..." you pause, swallowing hard. "Because I like being around you, you’re my best friend..." The last part comes out barely above a whisper, and you can't quite meet his eyes.
Hongjoong's hands tighten slightly around your wrist, and you can feel him tense at your words. "Best friend," he repeats, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. "Fuck it," he mutters, rising from his chair abruptly. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls you closer, leaving barely any space between you. His eyes flicker to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "Maybe this will change your mind," he whispers, and before you can process what's happening, he closes the remaining distance.
His lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, soft and hesitant at first, as if he's giving you a chance to pull away. But when you respond by sliding your hands up to his shoulders, he deepens the kiss, one hand moving to cup your face while the other wraps around your waist.
You pull back, your heart racing as you try to catch your breath. "Well," you say with a nervous laugh, "I don't remember this being in the friendship contract. Did we miss a clause somewhere?"
Hongjoong rolls his eyes, giving you a light push. "Really? That's what you're going with right now?" He drops back into his chair, crossing his arms with an exaggerated pout. "Here I am, pouring my heart out, and you make dad jokes."
"It's part of my charm," you say, but your voice wavers slightly, still affected by the kiss.
"You're impossible," he mutters, but you can see the corners of his mouth twitching, fighting a smile.
"I like you too," you blurt out suddenly, making Hongjoong freeze. "And not just as a friend. I... I've liked you for a while now."
His eyes light up, a genuine smile breaking across his face. "Yeah?" he asks softly, reaching for your hand.
"Yeah," you confirm, intertwining your fingers with his. "Though I have to warn you, the coffee deliveries might get more expensive now that we're dating."
Hongjoong's eyebrows shoot up, and he gives you an incredulous look. "Oh, so we're dating now? Just like that?" He leans back in his chair with an amused smirk. "I don't remember being asked on a proper date yet. The audacity!"
You laugh, squeezing his hand. "Are you saying you want me to woo you, Kim Hongjoong?"
"I'm just saying," he says with an exaggerated sniff, "that a person of my caliber deserves at least a proper dinner invitation before being claimed as someone's boyfriend."
"Fine," you say, rolling your eyes fondly. "Kim Hongjoong, would you like to go on a date with me? Maybe somewhere that serves better coffee than what I bring you?"
His face breaks into that bright smile you love so much. "Now was that so hard?" he teases, pulling you closer. "And for the record, no coffee tastes better than the ones you bring me."
You pull him into another kiss, softer this time, filled with all the unspoken feelings you've held back for so long. When you finally break apart, you rest your forehead against his, both of you wearing matching grins. "So, about that date..." you start, but Hongjoong's already reaching for his coat.
♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│
It's been a few months since you and Mingi got together. It's your first Christmas as a couple but not your first one together. As he watches you re-organize the tree in his living room, he can't help but reminisce on the key moments that made him realize you're his person.
PAIRING: mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: stablished relationship, holidays special!
WORD COUNT: 7k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI), mingi's pov, a loooot of fluff and love talk, pet names (love, my love, babe), mistletoe kisses, heart felt gifts, messy kisses, mingi and reader briefly discuss something that i've come to learn is called sweater fetish but i don't know if the scene counts as that but just letting you know, oral sex (f receiving), reader asks mingi to 'use' her, hard but romantic sex, unprotected sex (booo, wrap it up please), marriage discussion at the end omg?
NOTES: happy holidays everyone! I've been wanting to write mingi's perspective of everything that went down in s&t for a while so I took the chance to write it for the holidays because what better time to reminisce about everything you've ever lived than december am I right? [nervous chuckle]. I hope you're having a wonderful month and i hope next year treats you even better! THIS IS PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH SERIES BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: december 25th 2024.
Mingi remembers the first time he saw you like it was yesterday. It's an image so vivid, so impactful in his life that there's no way he could ever, ever forget.
He was playing soccer on the street, with two friends who moved away that same year and he doesn't really remember them all that well now. He kicked the ball so hard it landed in your yard as you were doing something else. Playing with dirt? He doesn't really remember, you might've been but it didn't matter because it was also the first time he realized he could fall in love.
Granted, he didn't fall in love immediately. He was, after all, just a fourteen year old boy and he didn't understand those feelings just yet. It was that transitional period of a kid’s life where the desire to connect with someone else was strong but definitely not a priority.
Besides, he didn't realize, until many years had gone by, that the first time that he saw you and he felt time stop, he also saw a life with you: the five seconds it took for the ball to roll over to your feet after almost punching you in the face and he sort of assumed you were going to be in his life forever.
And you are going to be in his life forever. In one way or another, but he promised you that forever a while ago, in his head, in his dreams and in the way he cares about you, for you. In the way his heart hurts when you're not around, when you two fight. In the way his heart sings when he kisses you, the way it dances and beats against his chest when you smile at him, because of him, around him.
And when he hears you laugh? Pfft. He melts at the sound.
He's melting even now, after being officially together a little over a year, as you laugh with your mom and his mom while decorating the Christmas tree at his house.
Well, not decorating it exactly. You three went shopping earlier today and somehow your mom convinced his mom that the old ornaments did not go with the living room aesthetic anymore and she bought new ones for them.
The only ones that are old now, that the redecorating party is finishing with the tree, are the ones you and him have shared over the years.
The one you got at fifteen, that resembles a snow globe with two snowmans inside of it, holding hands and with your names engraved in wood underneath it. The one he got at seventeen that's a little simpler but you say it's your favorite: two gingerbread cookies holding a heart sign with your initials in it, one of the cookies kissing the other’s cheek.
You two have been alternating years of getting each other ornaments and deciding which house they're staying at. This year, however, you went for a different approach to the tradition. Each of you painted an ornament, a traditional one, with something festive that alludes to one another.
He, seeing that you've been talking snoopy for half a year, tried his best to paint the character on top of his dog house, decorated by Christmas lights and with a red ribbon to tie it to the tree that illuminates your living room up the street.
Now, he watches carefully as you hang near the other ornaments, the one you hand painted to look like a chicken. Initially, you tried to convince him it was a penguin but it can't possibly be. It's more yellow than black or white and even if you tried to tell him it's a specific type of penguin you saw in happy feet there's nothing that indicates that it's not a chicken.
“Oh, well, it fits him.” His mother says at your explanation, hugging your mother tightly as she fondly watches you hang the ornament up. You turn around when you finish, tongue out at him childishly.
He pretends to be annoyed, rolling his eyes and getting up to playfully tug at the tongue you're sticking out to him still “Mom, you're supposed to be on my side.”
“I am!” She defends herself, smiling like she's totally not on his side. “It does look a little bit like you, dear. Even your little mole here.”
You take the opportunity to press on your tippy toes and kiss the mole his mom is pointing out, only to get more aws from them.
“I win.” You whisper to him, proud of yourself and he can't help but smile at you as you pull away.
Mingi remembers the first time he realized he was in love with you. It was the first time he called you by his favorite endearment: love.
He remembers the ice cream shop you both were at, he remembers the conversation being more of a confession that you had a crush on a friend of his, he remembers the guy serving the ice cream complaining about the fridge hardly working and he remembers the blush on your cheeks as you admitted to want to be called love because…
“That's what good boyfriend's do,” you said, ice cream on your fingers that you quickly wipe away with an already sticky napkin, “So we're going to get together and I'm going to be called love from that moment on.”
He knew you were talking about his friend but his heart skipped a beat anyway. He had to focus on what you were telling him, not on the pretty smile you gave him or the relief he felt when he realized the one thing that would lead you straight (or not so straight) to disappointment.
His friend was a very proud but not that out gay man.
But Mingi decided to not mess with it, he always let you fight your battles alone if those battles ended up with you learning a lesson and without a scratch, anyway.
“Good luck with that, love.”
“Ugh, no, you don't get to call me that!”
The nickname stuck either way. Even if, at the time, he pushed those feelings down deep inside of him.
Because you were his love, but you were also his best friend ever and he was just a dude. A boy, even.
He didn't know better and so, eventually, you got a boyfriend. Great dude, worshipped you like you deserved and all.
Mingi remembers the way he felt when you told him you loved Han. He hated the guy, hated the way he made you smile, hated the fact that he trusted him of all people because, well, there was and there will never be someone who loves you more than Mingi.
Han thought he was the one, you didn't. But even after breaking up with Han, Mingi stood still. He understood his feelings, his protectiveness over you, as something platonic. But he didn't really have time to think about it with your head on his chest, on his bed, over the sheets and with the door wide open because it was a school night after all.
School night meant no sleepovers, but his mom didn't ask you to leave when she saw you with tears in your eyes at their front door. Mingi didn't ask you to leave as you soaked his sweatshirt with said tears, either.
“I don't know why I did it, Mingi. I don't… He did nothing wrong.”
“You said you felt he was not the one.”
Your regretful eyes looked up at him “But what if he was?”
“He's not,” he whispered back to you and, at the time, he didn't know why. He had no reason to tell you Han wasn't the one for you, but his subconscious knew things he didn't accept back then. “You wouldn't be doubting it at all if he was, love.”
You ended up sleeping over that night, door wide open still, your mom texting him when she couldn't reach you on the phone.
He helped you through that breakup, just like you helped him with his first breakup as well.
He helped you mend your own wounds, he saw you grow stronger after the pain went away, he felt proud of you when you started showing up to your first uni parties without him having to convince you to go.
Mingi remembers the first time he realized he wanted to kiss you. You two were laying under the stars, a little hazy and on a rooftop you definitely shouldn't be up in.
That probably wasn't the actual first time he wanted to kiss you, just the first time he admitted it to himself. Your friends were on the rooftop as well, dancing around, yelling, being silly, just as drunk as you two were or worse but, for a moment, it was quiet. Now that he thinks back to it, he probably imagined it.
The noise quieting down, that is.
Mingi remembers that he had turned to you to ask what you thought was going on but your eyes were closed. He remembers the breath he took in as he traced the side of your face with his eyes, carefully, like the staring alone would get you out of whatever peace you were enjoying at the moment.
Have your lips always been so perfect and inviting? He answered himself immediately: Yes, of course they are perfect, she's perfect.
He doesn't really know how he didn't realize it right then and there. When his heart soared at the thought of it, of disturbing your peace only to kiss you.
And then the noise came back, laughing and screeching and something alarming came out of Jongho’s mouth.
“Shit, shit. Security!”
You opened our eyes and found him already staring at you. He should've felt embarrassed to be caught, but you smiled at him before rushing to your feet, offering your hand and shaking it for him to take it.
“Can you get up or should I stay and be escorted out with you?”
No one got caught that night except, maybe, his heart.
Because he realized he loved you around a week after that, as he saw you do the most mundane task ever: washing your teeth in front of your bathroom sink, still trying to rant about something that pissed you off in one of your classes. He remembers pressing his shoulder against the doorframe and looking at your and your frown through the mirror. He also remembers the frantic beat of his heart as he realized he wanted to do just this with you every day of his life.
Going to bed together, waking up next to you and listening to you rant about things you're going to forget the next day. He never wanted that with anyone else, only you.
You, you, you. He got so lovesick the next year after that he tried desperately to cover it up. With different activities, with people kissing his neck at parties after dancing for a while, with anything and everything that could distract him from the fact that he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you.
Not because he didn't want to explore but because every single time he tried to say something, the words would die down under the weight of years of friendship and loyal companionship.
He couldn't lose you, he didn't even know how to make sure you liked him back!
And so the yearning got unbearable enough for everyone in your friend group to notice it, except for, well, you.
“At some point you have to tell her about it, right?”
No one in the group presses on things. Woo and Gyuri (Woo’s ex girlfriend who, somehow, is still his friend and everyone's friend as well) maybe, but when it comes to matters of the heart, they let everyone be. So it surprised him when Seonghwa, of all people, spoke on it.
“You can't keep looking at her like that from a distance and waiting for it to pass, Mingi. It's not going to pass.”
He remembers sighing and then giving you one more glance before turning to his friend.
“She probably doesn't feel the same.”
“Who cares? You're never going to find out keeping it to yourself.” Seonghwa gave him a tiny smile before bumping his shoulder against his, both teasingly and reassuring. “Besides, she loves you too much to allow some romantic feelings to get in the way. Just… Think about it, yeah? Not forcing you here,” he shrugged, “but we all do, kind of, maybe, want you two to kiss.”
Snorting a laugh, Mingi remembers shaking his head no and then thinking about it for, at least, three months after that before actually making a move.
He remembers feeling humiliated by one of his attempts to put his feelings for you to rest, he remembers confiding in you and your friends, he remembers when you agreed to tell him how to make it right the next time he slept with anyone else. He doesn't really remember asking you to show him.
His mind disconnected after he saw the blush painting your cheeks beautifully, his heart took over him when he kneeled in front of you to kiss you that first time, when he allowed himself to give in and touch you like he had wanted to for so long.
And then the days and the months blended so gracefully after that summer that he doesn't really recall when the weather started getting cold, just that the color of the snow contrasts against your winter coat when you both go outside after having Christmas dinner at his house, with both your parents and his present.
They were friends before, but now? They see each other more than you two.
Well, that's a lie, but almost. And, like all best friends do when spending the holidays together, they get lost in good conversation and company, in a bubble made out of wine and laughter, cozy enough that it allows you and Mingi to slip out of his house hand in hand easily.
You have a little smile as you look around the street like you don't know the houses you pass on the way to yours. He wants to indulge you, but the words slip out his mouth without even thinking about it.
“Am I walking you home because you wanted to change into something more comfortable or because you want to give me an additional Christmas gift, love?”
“Stop ruining it! You know I'm not good at hiding things,” you click your tongue, pretending to be disappointed and kick the snow with your boot when you stop and pull him close, “We haven't got alone time in forever.”
“Two days,” he says with a nod, arms going around you and head going down to kiss your lips tenderly for a quick second, “Three, if we count today.”
You pout “That's like… A lifetime.”
“I know,” he gives in, chuckling against your lips, “I'm going through withdrawal symptoms and all.”
He watches as you close your eyes and lean in. He gets ready for it, inhaling cold air that hits his lungs as a reminder where you two are, what he's allowed to enjoy in public, and closes his eyes as he waits for your kiss that never comes.
Instead, your nose nuzzles his softly, barely nudging the skin and you take a step back, taking his gloved hand and intertwining it with yours “I also may or may not have a gift for you.”
Smiling in victory, Mingi fakes an annoyed gasp “I knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah, you're so smart,” you scoff, rolling your eyes and entering your front yard without letting go of him. “Hurry, I'm freezing!”
“This was your idea, love.” He deadpans but hurries anyways and afterwards, as the warmth of the foyer allows him to shrug off his coat and leave it in its designated spot by the door, he laughs at your clear enthusiasm.
You're already shoeless, coatless, gloveless and scarfless and waiting at the third step of the stairs, impatiently blinking at him as a signal to hurry up, again. And when goes upstairs with you, you make him promise to keep his eyes closed as he walks towards your room.
“You're too tall, I can't cover them with my hands so promise, Song Mingi.”
“My eyes are literally closed!”
He hears a door open. It has that creaking sound the door to your room has and when the smell of your perfume hits him as you press your hands to his chest to stop him, he doesn't have to open his eyes to know where he is. He knows his way around these halls anyway.
You turn him, so that his back is probably facing your room, and then instruct:
“Look up and open your eyes.”
Mistletoe. That's what he sees when he opens his eyes: mistletoe that is badly tape to your door frame, just above him. It makes him smile and then the best friend in him takes over when he looks down at you and your blushed cheeks.
“Love… That's so chees—”
“Just kiss me, you idiot.”
And he does. He lifts you up from the floor and you bury your fingers in his hair before securing your legs around his waist and he walks the room he knows like the back of his hand until he reaches the bed. He doesn't sit down or puts you down yet, lazily opening your mouth with his tongue when you sigh against him.
“Wait— Mm,” you speak against his mouth, words silenced by his eager tongue a second later. He has to physically throw his head back to stop himself from kissing you further, but when his eyes return to his face, his will almost falters. “That was not the gift.”
“Okay.” He breathes out, smiling.
“Sit on the floor.”
He does and the carpet is soft under his fidgeting hands as he watches you move around the room. You go into your closet (literally, you disappear behind the closed doors) and when you come back with a large box he blinks a few times in astonishment.
Huge box, really. It almost doesn't fit the space between you when you sit down in front of him and glance at him excitedly, a shy color to your voice when you speak again “Open it!”
There's no way he can help the smile that curves his lips when he opens the box and finds an assortment of handmade things. Yes, the ornament that you made may have looked like something else entirely, but he starts to believe you made it on purpose when he pulls out the first gift: a bouquet made out of candy, his favorite sweets.
“This is beautiful, love…”
He lets out a chuckle when you steal one immediately and he promises to dig into it once he goes through all the gifts.
There's a box with a card underneath that he goes to pick up but you stop him with a trembling hand “Save that one for last.” And he notices you're a little bit nervous, so he does, his own heart skipping at what might've inside the box, a similar yet smaller one weighing on the pocket of the coat he left downstairs.
The other things left on the box are a few bills in the shape of hearts and a wooden sphere that he finds out, seconds later, it's a picture museum.
“I couldn't fit every important picture we took together in a regular shaped box so I had to get this one.” You explain as he looks at the inside of the sphere. It looks like a miniature museum and Mingi feels like crying a little, so he takes your hand in his and gives it a kiss to ground himself “They're in chronological order, too, I had to consult the ancient texts to get them all right!”
He laughs, confused “The ancient texts?”
“Yes, my Instagram story archive.” You return, nodding and he gives your hand another kiss before letting it go to set down the museum next to the bills and the bouquet.
You let out a shaky breath when he returns his attention to the box and picks it up. You pick up the card.
“Before you open it, let me read this to you.”
“Of course,” he returns softly and takes the trembling hand you're extending in his direction.
“First of all, look at how cute this is,” you turn the card and inside of it, it's decorated with kisses. Your kisses. Mingi would recognize them anywhere and he tries to take the card from you but you bat his hand away with it. “Later, let me read this to you. Um…
“Dear Mingi,” he giggles at the formality of your tone and then forces himself to stop at the look you give him. “Dear Mingi,” you start again, “I don't have a way with words and I've re-written this letter a thousand times but I think I have come to terms with the fact that there are no words invented, no language discovered, that can accurately immortalize my feelings for you. The love I hold for you transcends everything and everyone, every concept ever created and every new idea future generations come up with. And, as I try to come up with a joke that can give this overdone confession any lightness, I have also come to terms with the fact that you're it for me. I already knew this, of course,” you laugh and he has to laugh a little, heartbeat on his throat and eyes full of tears and all, “I already knew how much I loved you. Platonically, romantically, it all has just blended into one because it doesn't really matter how I loved you, it just matters that I have the opportunity to do so, my love. I love you.”
When your eyes catch his, the tears are already wetting his cheeks.
“And now what didn't fit in the letter, because I chose this tiny ass card,” you laugh again, eyes already wet even though he can see you're telling yourself not to cry. “Our first Christmas together was the time I realized I wanted you in my life forever. It just felt right, like we belonged somehow and we do, Mingi. So I— Open the box.” You quickly say and when he does, the whole thing falls apart.
Kind of.
When he pulls the rope tied in a bow at the top and the sides fall he makes a noise of surprise that makes you laugh.
The sides have more pictures of you two and in the middle of the box there's another tiny box that he opens to find a necklace.
With a ring that could fit him as its charm and a silver chain that's not too delicate but not too rough, just like the one he uses on a daily basis.
The ring has your initials engraved on the inside and his initials engraved on the outside. He lets out a sob that prompts your tears to flow freely down your face and he catches you wiping them.
“I didn't want to give you this with the rest of your gifts this morning because, well, I'm shy and—”
“You are not shy.” He speaks over you, wiping his tears.
“And I didn't want our parents to scream marriage at us. I don't want to scream marriage at you either, my love,” you say before he gets any ideas. And it did cross his mind a second ago, but he's far from terrified of it. “But I wanted you to have something to remember me by, with our initials in it, as a token of how much I love you, Mingi.”
He doesn't even know what to say.
“A lot. I love you a lot, if you couldn't tell.” You add and he laughs and manages to scoot around the box of gifts to wrap his arms around your frame. You laugh into the skin of his neck, hugging him back.
“I love you too,” he whispers, his lips close to your ear and his heart beating fast still. When he pulls back, you try to give him a kiss and he stops you, which prompts a confused look on your side. “You know that they say that overtime couples start to think alike?”
“Look alike,” you correct with a tilt of your head and he gives you a look, so you backtrack, smiling. “No, yeah, couples start to think alike.” You nod and then let out a noise in protest of him getting up.
He points his finger at you “Wait here.”
And then he bolts downstairs, to his coat.
It really does say something about you two, about the way your minds sync up at most needed time. Because as he enters your room, box in hand and knees hitting the carpet in front of you, he can tell you got his point immediately.
“I'm not screaming marriage at you yet, love and I also didn't get you a letter or a chain to go with it, but—” He hands you the box and lets you open it, head immediately trying to paint into his memory the way you gasp at the ring, the way you take it delicately into your hands and examine it with care. “But I bought this months ago, in that antique shop you like so much because it reminded me of you and how could it not? Do you see how beautiful it is?”
It sparkles under your bedroom light, but he can see it from a distance: all the delicate details that make it look like there's two hands holding the pearl in the middle. In a way, it looks like two hands holding a heart.
Just like you hold his heart.
“As a token of your much I love you, Y/N.”
You pout as he takes the ring and puts it on your finger.
“You can't just steal my speech, Song Min—”
He kisses you again. He can't not kiss you, he can't help but get you into your arms and thank you for choosing the ground to present your gift because he's anything but careful as he stands up, drags you with him, and sits on the bed with you on top of him.
“Shit, hold on—”
“Hm?” There's concern in the way your eyebrows crease and Mingi gets briefly distracted by how kissed out and breathless you look for a second before reaching for the floor.
“My necklace,” he explains, reaching for the box and successfully getting it in his hand without having to take you off his lap. “Put it on for me, love?”
“So you liked it?” You ask nonchalantly as you take the necklace, legs opening a bit more so that you're sitting further into his lap.
“You literally made me cry, Y/N. Tears,” he says, making a face that you catch before closing the clasp behind his neck.
“Of joy?” You return in a whisper, eyes so sweet and smile so shy it makes him want to cry all over again.
“I love you.” He says instead of answering the question, lips touching yours again, softly, wanting, forgetting you don't have a lot of time before your parents wonder where you went.
There's no way careful thoughts can get through the fog your sighs against him create, in the way your teeth sink into the plush of his bottom lip and pull until he's moaning, the sting of pain passing by as your tongue caresses his.
You've been getting a little bold lately, the nature of your encounters is always passionate but, somewhat, normal. Mingi loves every second you decide to give yourself to him but he also fucking loves when you do shit you like.
Like taking control of the kiss, pulling his hair so his head can fall back and you can slowly make it messier, sloppier, even after the sweet moment you two just shared.
Hands start to roam freely and, by the time you pull on his hair to detach your mouth from his fully, he's already breathless and hard against the fabric of his pants, mouth wet with shared spit.
He's sure his pupils are blown, he's sure he's red on the face and fucked out already. He knows his expression mirrors yours as you take him, and the necklace, in, eyes scanning his frame before you roll your hips against him.
He moans pathetically.
You smile at the sound.
“Like anything you see?” He tries to tease you to no avail.
“You look so hot like this…” The hand tangled in his hair moves and he closes his eyes to welcome the feeling of your nails softly digging into his skin as they make their way into his neck, over the necklace and the ring resting against his collarbone.
“With the necklace on?”
“And the sweater.”
He glances at his beige sweater with an arched brown and then he looks at your sweater, a warmer tone of beige than his, the neck a little high but not high enough to be considered a turtle neck, with the same expression.
He puts the pieces together and then scoffs out an impressed laugh.
“Where did you learn this kink, love?”
“It's not a kink,” you defend yourself immediately, laughing when he looks at you like he doesn't believe it and then he leans in again, peppering your jaw with slow, open mouth kisses, “I just saw a video the other day and…”
“And?” He encourages you with a shift of his hips of his own, gaining a curse that slips past your lips.
“And then I saw you today in this.” The palm of your hand slips from his neck and into the fabric of the sweater, thumb passing over his nipple with purpose. He hisses in response. “So… We could leave it on, hm? What do you think?”
He raises an eyebrow, trying to bite his smile back “What did they do in the video, love?”
“Oh,” you giggle into his shoulder as he kisses every inch of skin available to him, “it was a homemade video. I don’t watch anything super produced, you know that. They, uhm… Fuck, babe,” he licks his way up the side of your neck, successfully making you melt against him. “She was looking at her phone and he was eating her out,” you manage to get out. “And then she got on her stomach, legs straight a-and closed while he fucked her. Used her, kinda.” He pulls back at that, both intrigued and wanting to see if that’s what you actually want.
“Used her to get off?”
You nod and he leans in, nose brushing yours.
“Is that what you want me to do with you?”
“After you get me off,” you whisper back, smiling without any shame at your request “yeah.”
Mingi takes his time to think about it. On purpose, letting the tension linger as he presses both palms against the mattress, leaning back just enough so you can catch him checking you out unapologetically. Truth being told, his dick is twitching in his pants at the thought of helping you explore. This has always been your dynamic in bed: exploring, searching, discovering new things that make you wet, researching new ways of making you come and there’s nothing that gets him off more than the idea of you getting away with what you want.
Even if that means sweating the fabric of this expensive sweater through. It’s okay, he has a washing machine. The way you wait for an answer, with eyes so bright and expectant, makes him bite his lip in return.
Yeah, there’s nothing he enjoys more than pleasing you.
He also knows you enjoy this.
The anticipation. The teasing, the way his hand returns to your legs and slides the material of the sweater up slightly, only to neglect the idea a second after and, instead, turning his hand and letting his knuckles brush against the fabric of it deliberately, with laced intention into the touch even though his expression remains pensive at the proposal.
A proposal he accepted, like, the second after you said it outloud.
“Do you know how much I love your tits, love?”
You let out a sigh as your answer and one look at you is enough to encourage him to keep going. Knuckles brushing upwards, he catches your firm nipple through the fabric. It's a little hard to do; considering you're probably wearing two layers underneath to shield you from the December cold; but he manages and you let out a needy whine.
“Do you know how much I love you if I’m going to fuck you without taking one look at them?”
Damn. He doesn’t really mean for his voice to sound so raspy but it does and the way your lips curve in mischief let’s him know that you catch it for what it really means: He’s so lost in it, in the sensual bickering, that he can’t help but show how affected he is, one way or another.
And then there’s the urgency of getting on with it because you don’t know how much time you get alone, until someone calls your phone and asks for you or until your parents get tired of the wine and come back home.
So it really does happen in a flash when you grab the collar of his sweater and smash his lips against yours with need, with a newfound spark that excites him. He practically rushes to take your bottoms off, to slide down until they pool at his ankles, to turn on the bed until you’re laying on your back and his mouth is marking your inner thighs, adding new color to the bruises already lingering there.
You’re twitching under his touch and he has to press your hips down to keep you still when he takes your panties off and dives into your folds. Usually, he would be prepping you to make a mess. You teached him how to make you squirt months ago, the day before you officially got together and he has had the pleasure of making you see stars since then.
Today, there’s not enough time.
So he wastes no time in devouring you like he knows you like it. Your leg thrown over his shoulder, the sweater and the shirt underneath rising just enough for him to thrust his hips against the bed at the image of your skin.
You try to keep it down, he sees you trying to contain yourself and under any other circumstances, he would scold you for depriving him of the sounds you make. But this time around, the view edges him. He wonders briefly what other scenarios he can propose to have you gulping down your moans, to make you gasp for air after pressing the palm of your own hand over your mouth so no more whines slip out of your lips.
He doubles his efforts, just to see you trying to contain yourself and failing to do so, again. It makes you double your efforts as well, probably just to spite him as you thrust your hips and chase your high, but it doesn't bother him.
If anything, it makes him harder than ever. The way you ride his face, the tongue that flattens out and then curves around your clit and your conviction falters, hips falling still at the way he sucks into your sensitive nub. Your hand in his hair pulls a little and the sting of pain almost makes him come untouched.
Chuckling into your heat, Mingi catches the exact moment your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels your limbs locking, he tastes your release when your orgasm hits you, he helps you ride out the sensation while pleased moans fill the room.
And, usually, he would kiss his way up to your lips. He could right now too, over the sweater, the idea of the fuzzy material mixing with your orgasm it's tempting but he remembers you have to see people after this as well.
He remembers he doesn't have much time.
And your words are ringing on the back of his head when his mouth latches onto yours again, when you moan after tasting yourself on his tongue.
He pulls away to silently ask the question: Do you want to keep going?
You nod, nose nuzzling his briefly before he turns you around. Harshly, like he knows you like it. He sees you grasp the comforter and a pillow between your fingers when he sinks himself into your wet heat, he hears the muffled cry when he adjusts a little and when you close your legs to lie flatly on the bed and in-between his, he all but sees stars at the feeling.
You're not tight. That's good, that's a sign that you're comfortable with him, trusting of him, a sign that you want you. This position makes it a snug fit, though, and when you purposefully squeeze around him he presses on his hands on your lower back with a groan.
“S-stop stalling, baby, we're running out of ti— Fuck, Mingi!”
Pulling out and then slamming his hips back down with measured force, he marvels in the feeling of you genuinely squeezing around him, out of pleasure and not to tease him.
“Is this what you wanted?” He asks, forehead connecting with the soft material of the sweater when he leans over you, on your shoulder and smiles when you moan at the way he picks up the pace.
“Yes, yes, yes, f-fuck,” you mumble in response, head turning and breath fawning on his cheek that you attempt to kiss a second later, so he complies and turns his head to kiss you sweetly, a complete contrast of the way he's thrusting into you.
He falters when he notices just how hard he is going but your hand shoots back, attempts to grab his hip and your head shakes in disapproval.
“Don't stop,” you ask, breathless, eyes scanning his face to see if he's not into this but he assumes you don't find that because he is into it, “use me, my love. That's what I want.”
You don’t have to repeat yourself. He leans back up, hands finding a secure spot on your hips and uses you like you asked. He’s hardly the one to seek his own relief so soon. He likes to take his time with you, even when you don’t have much, and that means making you come undone at least twice before he even allows his dick to be touched, but now?
With how turned on he is? With how full of love he is for you?
He remembers the time, the years he didn’t allow himself to see you in nothing but platonic light. He remembers the feeling of your lips on his for the first time, he remembers the love you professed to him today and the way you make him feel so wanted, so adored, so—
“Oh— fuck.”
His pace falters, his orgasm so close he’s unable to keep chasing for it with the same measured force he was using before.
“Yes, Mingi,” you encourage, somehow managing to move your body upwards, meeting his own, “don’t stop, baby, please, I want to feel you inside of me.”
He vaguely registers himself moaning, babbling nonsense as his movements pick back up. He hears your voice distantly, like he’s underwater, like the way you tell him to come inside of him and that you love him it’s what’s pulling him back up.
And when he releases inside of you, his ears ring slightly and his forehead meets your back, eyes closed and chest heaving. He feels his heartbeat on his throat, he feels your heartbeat on your back and its rhythm matches his beautifully.
No one says anything for a few minutes where you both try and recover from the intensity of what you just did. Something new, something that leaves you both exhausted and he can see it on your sleepy and content smile when he pulls out and you turn around, not giving a fuck that you’re bedding is probably going to get sticky with his cum.
He throws himself besides you and your nose touches his cheek immediately.
“That was…”
“So good,” you say and he hugs you close, breath still ragged, “and we should definitely look into sweater fetish or whatever it’s called. I think you enjoyed it more than me.”
He gasps in feign offense.
“Stop projecting, love.”
“Am not—”
“Yes, you are,” he sing-songs back and you weakly hit his arm with your fist. You don’t say anything afterwards and Mingi stops staring at the stars in your ceiling to look at you.
You’re staring at your ring. He smiles, all the emotions that your words brought to him coming right back.
“I want to marry you, Y/N.”
He says it without really thinking it through. He doesn’t regret it even when you look up at him with a little panic behind your eyes.
“Now?”
He laughs “Someday,” shrugging, his lips connect with your hairline and you sigh, snuggling up to him a bit more “There’s going to be two more rings that I’m going to give to you and only you.”
“Good thing you got my ring size right.”
Your joke makes him laugh and you lean up against his chest a bit to look at him.
“I’m going to say yes, Mingi,” you whisper and he melts against the pillow, his hand on your cheek a second later. He sees your eyes go down to the ring on his necklace and the smile that brings to your lips makes his heart pick up again. “And then I’m going to show off my ring to everyone and I’m going to be insufferable as a wife. I hope you’re ready.”
You fall back down on his chest, cheek just above the beating of his heart and eyes closed. The smile lingers on your lips and, as he brushes your hair back with his hand and smooths his hand under your sweater, he can’t help but smile back.
“I don’t want it any other way, love.”
If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH and happy holidays! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
can you do which ateez habit you would have picked up from being around them for too long?
I struggled with this more than I should have I’m sorry 😭😭😭😭 Happy reading!!!
Habits you pickup from Ateez
Synopsis: little habits you pick up from ateez
Pairing: ateez members x gn!reader, idol au
Genre: fluff
Word count: 2.4k
Warnings: none:)
masterlist
• Hongjoong
Falling asleep in random places
You never thought you'd pick up such a peculiar habit from Hongjoong but here you were, dozing off on the couch in his studio. It had become somewhat of a routine lately. Hongjoong often found himself working late into the night, composing music and writing lyrics, and you couldn't bear to leave him alone. So, you stayed up with him, keeping him company and offering moral support.
Tonight was no different. The studio was dimly lit, save for the soft glow of the computer screen where Hongjoong was tirelessly tinkering away. You sat beside him, occasionally offering words of encouragement or fetching him a snack to keep his energy up. But as the hours passed, fatigue started to weigh heavily on your eyelids.
"You okay Y/n?" a familiar voice chimed in, bringing you back from the brink of slumber.
You blinked a few times, trying to shake off the drowsiness. "Huh? Who? What?" you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.
Seonghwa chuckled softly and gestured towards you. "You fell asleep in a chair, I think you’re spending too much time with Hongjoong. You should get some real rest before you start falling asleep in random places, like him, too."
Glancing over at Hongjoong, you realized he was completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to the conversation happening around him. You laughed sheepishly, realizing Seonghwa was right. Lately, you had indeed found yourself dozing off in various places – the couch, the kitchen table, even leaning against the wall.
"It's just... I can't leave him alone when he's working so hard," you explained softly, a small smile playing on your lips.
Seonghwa's expression softened as he understood. "I know, and I'm sure Hongjoong appreciates it too. But you need to take care of yourself as well, okay? "
You nodded, grateful for Seonghwa's concern. As you settled back into the couch, you made a mental note to try and get more sleep, even if it meant leaving Hongjoong to his work occasionally. But for now, you allowed yourself to succumb to the comforting embrace of sleep, knowing that Hongjoong was just a few feet away.
• Seonghwa
Acting motherly towards the members
Seonghwa watched with a bemused smile as you flitted around the dorm, straightening pillows, picking up stray socks, and tidying up the kitchen. It was a sight he'd grown accustomed to – you, inadvertently taking on the role of the dorm mom, just like he did. It wasn't something you consciously did, but rather a habit you'd picked up from spending so much time around him and the other guys.
You had a thing for neatness and sometimes acted much like a mom in your friend group, but lately, you found yourself slipping into Seonghwa's shoes more often than not. It was something he found endearing and amusing, seeing you scold the other members for leaving their belongings strewn about or for forgetting to do their chores.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" Seonghwa asked, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen.
You turned to him, a blushi tinting your cheeks, wondering just how long he had been watching you. "Oh, just tidying up a bit. It was a mess in here."
Seonghwa chuckled softly, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don’t need to do all that, you know"
You laughed, shaking your head. "I can't help it. You guys are like family to me, and I just want to take care of you."
The other members wandered into the kitchen, groaning as they saw you fussing over the cleanliness of the space.
"Come on, Y/N, we already have one Seonghwa," Yunho teased, flashing you a playful grin. "We don't need you turning into another one."
You rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at your lips. "I'm just trying to help keep things organized around here. Someone has to do it."
Seonghwa wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "We appreciate it, really. Just don't forget to take care of yourself too, okay?"
You nodded, leaning into his side. "Of course. But someone has to keep you guys in line."
The others laughed, knowing deep down that they were lucky to have both you and Seonghwa looking out for them – even if it meant enduring occasional scoldings for their messy habits.
• Yunho
Picking at or biting your lips
Yunho had always been the type to immerse himself completely in whatever task he was working on, often biting or touching his lips in concentration. You, on the other hand, had never noticed this about yourself until Yunho pointed it out one day.
You were sitting together at the studio, both lost in your respective work. You were so engrossed in what you were doing that you didn't even realize your hand had wandered up to your lips, fingers lightly touching and occasionally biting at them in a habit you had unknowingly picked up from Yunho.
"Y/N," Yunho's voice broke through your concentration, causing you to look up, startled. "Don’t do that," he said, nodding towards your lips.
Confused, you furrowed your brows. "Hmm? What do you mean?"
Yunho sighed, his expression turning slightly serious. "You keep biting your lips. You might hurt them if you're not careful."
You blinked, suddenly becoming aware of what you were doing. "Oh," you muttered, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your neck. "I didn't even realize I was doing that."
Yunho's lips twitched with amusement, but he quickly composed himself. "It's a bad habit. You should try to stop."
You couldn't help but feel a bit defensive. "Well, you do it too," you scoffed and pointed out.
Yunho's cheeks flushed slightly, and he looked away. "I... I do?"
You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. Maybe we've just been spending too much time together," you teased.
Yunho's embarrassment was palpable now, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Maybe," he muttered, unable to meet your gaze.
But despite the awkwardness, there was a warmth in your chest knowing that even your unconscious habits were intertwined with his. It was just another reminder of how close the two of you had become, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for it.
• Yeosang
Clapping while laughing
You and Yeosang had spent such a long time together and over the course of it, you became attuned to each other's habits, quirks, and gestures without even realising it. One particular habit of Yeosang's that seemed to have rubbed off on you was the way he would clap his hands when he found something particularly amusing.
The way your hands would subconsciously come together and follow the rhythm of your laughter felt natural and neither of you actually noticed how a habit, once Yeosang’s, was now shared by you.
However, that was until one lazy afternoon when Yeosang excitedly showed you his phone, "Hey, check this out," he said with a grin, pushing it towards your face.
Curious, you glanced at the screen, finding yourself staring at a Twitter thread created by an ATINY. The thread was a compilation of gifs and videos, side by side, showing you and Yeosang laughing together. What caught your attention, however, was the caption accompanying the thread: "Am I the only one who noticed that Y/N and Yeosang have the same adorable habit of clapping while laughing? #YeoY/N."
"Oh my god they’re adorable."
"They look like cute little seals when they're laughing together, it's like they're synchronised."
You couldn't help but smile and giggle as you scrolled through the thread, amused by how certain things never went unnoticed by their fans, even if you yourselves were oblivious.
Yeosang glanced over at you, his expression softening. "I guess we really do spend too much time together, huh?"
You chuckled, leaning closer to him. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have it any other way."
• San
Covering your mouth while laughing
It was just one of those habits you picked up without even realising it – covering your face while laughing. It was something you'd seen San do countless times, his hand rising instinctively to his mouth as his laughter bubbled up. Maybe it was the contagiousness of his joy, or perhaps it was the familiarity that made you do it, but whatever the reason, you found yourself unconsciously mimicking his actions more and more as time went on.
You didn't think much of it, not until one fateful day when you and San were doing a live stream together. The comments were flooding in, a flurry of emojis and supportive messages from fans all over the world. Amidst the sea of text, one comment stood out:
"OMG, look how they laugh the same! 😍 SanYn are the cutest! 💕"
Curious, you glanced at the screen, only to see San's eyes widen in realisation. He turned to you, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Looks like we've been caught," he teased, nudging you lightly.
You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but there was also a warmth spreading through you, a sense of fondness at the thought of sharing such a small, intimate detail with San. "Guess we spend too much time together," you joked back, unable to suppress a smile.
But as the live stream continued, you couldn't help but notice how often you and San found yourselves laughing, your hands rising simultaneously to cover your mouths. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the bond you shared, the way you seemed to sync up without even trying.
After the stream ended, you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to San’s cheek, you couldn't help but giggle at how much these little quirks affected you, maybe making life more comfortable along the way.
• Mingi
Making the 🥺 face
To the people outside, Mingi seemed to be very intimidating, with his deep voice and built 6ft stature but inside the comfort of his he couldn't be more different. He knew he was cute and he knew how to use it against people. One quick look sent your way with his puppy eyes and pouty lips and you would melt, at some point this habit of his rubbed off on you.
The members weren’t safe from it either, like when Seonghwa had just finished making a delicious batch of ramen for himself. The aroma wafted through the room, teasing your senses and making your stomach growl loudly. You and Mingi couldn't help but stare at the steaming bowl with longing eyes.
"Seonghwa hyung, that smells amazing," Mingi exclaimed, his eyes widening with hunger.
You nodded enthusiastically, finding yourself unintentionally mirroring Mingi's expression, your lips slightly pouting like the 🥺 emoji.
Seonghwa chuckled at your antics, shaking his head. "Sorry guys, this is just for me. I only made enough for one."
"But hyung, we're starving!" Mingi whined, his voice tinged with desperation.
You glanced at Seonghwa, your eyes pleading as you continued to unknowingly imitate Mingi's puppy-dog expression.
Seonghwa sighed, feeling the pressure of your combined adorable stares. "Oh no, I have to deal with two Mingis now, don't I?"
You and Mingi exchanged a glance before bursting into giggles, realising your unintentional synchronisation. Seonghwa couldn't help but laugh along with you.
"Fine, fine," Seonghwa relented, dividing the ramen between the three of you. "But next time, make your own!"
• Wooyoung
Smacking people while laughing
You couldn't help but laugh at the way Wooyoung told a recount of the recent Wanteez episode the boys shot, adding his own commentary in between. He always had a way of making you laugh wholeheartedly, even when you fought he would be the one to apologise first and crack a joke to make you smile. However, what you didn't realise was that you had picked up one of his habits along the way.
In the midst of your laughter, your hand instinctively swung out and smacked San's thigh, eliciting a surprised yelp from him. It wasn't until he looked at you with a mix of amusement and slight irritation that you realised what you had done.
"Oops, sorry, San!" you apologised, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you tried to suppress your laughter.
San rubbed his thigh, shooting you a mock glare. "I already have to take abuse from Wooyoung, and now you're doing it too?"
You couldn't help but giggle at his playful complaint, but Wooyoung nudged you with a grin. "Looks like my habits are rubbing off on you, huh?"
You chuckled, realising how similar you two acted these days. "I guess so. Sorry, San, I’ll try not to do that but I can’t make any promises." You winked at him.
San shook his head and scoffed at your mocking, a smile breaking through his faux irritation. "Ahh so much I have to go through,"
You and Wooyoung giggled at his words, knowing how much he loved you both the same, with the occasional physical abuse of course.
• Jongho
Scrunching your nose while smiling/laughing
As you sat on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, you stumbled upon a video compilation titled "JongYn Couple Moments" ,obviously your curiosity got the better of you and you clicked on it, not fully knowing what to expect. What unfolded on the screen was definitely not what you were expecting, it sent a sudden blush creeping up your cheeks.
The video was a compilation of moments featuring you and Jongho, through the fans’ eyes, complete with dramatic commentary about how cute you two were together. Especially about the way your noses scrunched and crinkles formed around your eyes as you both laughed, with your faces making the same endearing expression.
You couldn't help but be amused as you watched, realising that you had subconsciously copied Jongho's habit of scrunching his nose when he smiled.
Suddenly, you felt a presence beside you. Glancing over, you found Jongho peering over your shoulder, his eyes fixated on the screen. As he watched the video, a wide grin spread across his face, small giggles leaving his lips.
"Wow, we really do look alike sometimes," Jongho remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
You nodded, still giggling at the sight. "I never realized I picked up on your habit."
"It's adorable," Jongho said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. "I guess I've rubbed off on you, huh?"
You chuckled, leaning into his touch. "Looks like it. But hey, I don't mind sharing a few habits with you."
Pairing: Ateez x Reader
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 5.5k
Summary: The boy's reaction to you talking negatively about yourself
Hongjoong
In the confines of his studio, you were perched on the plush couch, surrounded by scattered makeup brushes and palettes, meticulously applying your makeup while he immersed himself in crafting a new track. The rhythmic tapping of his fingers on the keyboard harmonized with the gentle hum of the equipment, creating a soundtrack that was uniquely his. As you focused on perfecting your eyeliner, a wave of frustration washed over you, prompting you to let out a soft sigh. The sound caught Hongjoong's attention, and he removed one headphone, though his focus remained steadfast on his work. He was in his element, but the connection between you was palpable, a silent understanding that transcended words.
Another sigh escaped your lips, this one heavier, accompanied by a self-critical remark about your appearance. "Why do I look like this?" You glanced at your reflection in the small mirror, feeling the weight of your insecurities. The moment hung in the air, and you could sense his curiosity piqued as he swiveled in his chair to face you. His gaze swept over you, a hint of irritation flickering in his eyes, as if he were trying to decipher the source of your discontent.
"What do you mean?" he inquired, his voice laced with concern. The question hung between you, and a blush crept across your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. You hesitated, searching for the right words, but they felt trapped in your throat.
"I look so… bad," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. In a moment of self-doubt, you hastily began erasing the makeup you had just applied, feeling as though you were trying to wipe away the very essence of your confidence.
His annoyance flared at your words, and you could see the protective warmth in his gaze intensify. "Don't talk about my girlfriend like that," he admonished gently, his tone firm yet tender. The way he said it made your heart flutter, a reminder that he saw beauty in you that you often overlooked.
He stood up from his chair, crossing the distance between you with purposeful strides. Kneeling beside the couch, he took your hands in his, his touch grounding and reassuring. "You are beautiful, just the way you are," he insisted, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. The space between you felt charged, filled with unspoken words and emotions. He reached out, gently taking the makeup remover from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Let me show you," he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. He gestured for you to sit back, and you complied, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement. As he took a seat beside you, the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, grounding you in the moment.
With careful precision, he delicately wiped away the makeup you had put all over your skin. His touch was gentle, almost reverent as if he were revealing a masterpiece underneath the layers of makeup. As he continued to work, you found yourself relaxing, the tension in your shoulders easing. The way he focused on you, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration, made you feel cherished, as if you were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
"See?" he said, a playful smile breaking through as he stepped back to admire his handiwork. "You’re already looking better." You caught a glimpse of your reflection and couldn’t help but smile, your face bare, every mark visable.
"You really think so?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief but laced with hope.
"Absolutely," he replied, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. "You’re stunning, and I want you to see that too." His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and for the first time that evening, you felt a flicker of confidence ignite within you. The insecurities that had plagued you began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of belonging and acceptance.
Seonghwa
Seonghwa's heart sank at the sound of your self-deprecating words, "I'm ugly." The weight of your statement hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. After spending the last half hour trying on various outfits (to him, each one more beautiful than the last) you still felt a wave of insecurity wash over you, especially with a night out with friends approaching. The mirror reflected not just your image but also the turmoil within you, the doubts that clouded your mind and dimmed your spirit.
To him, your beauty was undeniable, a radiant light that shone brightly even in the darkest of moments. He had watched you transform in front of the mirror, each outfit accentuating your figure, each accessory adding a touch of flair. Yet, despite the stunning reflection staring back at you, you remained blind to it, fixated instead on the flaws you believed you saw. Seonghwa felt a pang of anguish at the sight of your frown, the way your shoulders slumped as if the weight of the world rested upon them. It pained him deeply to witness you doubt yourself, to see the sparkle in your eyes dimmed by insecurity.
Unable to bear the sight any longer, he rose from his seat, his heart racing with a mix of determination and tenderness. He approached you slowly, as if afraid to startle you, and without a word, he enveloped you in a warm embrace. The world outside faded away as he held you close, his chin resting gently on your shoulder. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to shield you from your own harsh judgments, to remind you of the beauty he saw so clearly.
As he gazed at your reflection in the mirror, he whispered softly, "You are so beautiful, you know that?" His voice was a soothing balm, meant to penetrate the walls of self-doubt that surrounded you. He could see the way your eyes flickered with uncertainty, but he hoped that his presence would help you see what he saw—a stunning, vibrant person who deserved to feel confident and loved.
"Look at yourself," he urged gently, his fingers brushing a stray hair behind your ear. "You light up the room, and anyone who can't see that is blind." He tightened his grip slightly, as if to anchor you in the moment, to remind you that you were not alone in this battle against your insecurities. "You are not just beautiful on the outside; your heart, your kindness, your laughter—those are what truly make you shine."
He stepped back slightly, still holding your shoulders, encouraging you to meet his gaze. "I know it’s hard to see it right now, but you have to believe me. You are so much more than the insecurities that cloud your mind. You are unique, and that uniqueness is what makes you beautiful. The world needs more of that light, and I need it too."
You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. The sincerity in his gaze was unwavering, and for a moment, the storm of self-doubt began to quiet. Seonghwa continued, his voice steady and filled with affection, "Every time I see you, I’m reminded of how lucky I am to know you. You have this incredible ability to make everyone around you feel special, and yet you don’t see how special you are yourself."
He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts, wanting to convey everything he felt. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, just for a moment. You would see the beauty that I see—the way your smile lights up your face, the way your laughter is contagious, and how your heart is so full of love and compassion. You are not ugly; you are a masterpiece, and it breaks my heart to see you not recognize that."
As he spoke, he could see the tension in your shoulders begin to ease, the frown on your face softening. He gently squeezed your shoulders, hoping to instill a sense of strength within you. "You are worthy of love and admiration, not just from others but from yourself too. Please, promise me you’ll try to be kinder to yourself. You deserve it."
"Let’s go out on a date tonight instead, and I want you to wear whatever makes you feel good. I’ll be right by your side, cheering you on. You are going to shine, and I can’t wait to see it." With a small, hesitant nod, you finally allowed a flicker of hope to break through the clouds of doubt. Seonghwa smiled, a warm and encouraging smile that reached his eyes.
Yunho
As you gazed into the bathroom mirror, a soft sigh escaped your lips, "I look so unattractive," you murmured, taking in the reflection in the new bathing suit. The fabric clung to your skin in a way that felt foreign, and the bright colors seemed to highlight every insecurity you had. You turned slightly to the side, scrutinizing the way the suit fit, wishing for a different silhouette, a different body. Just then, as if sensing your self-doubt, Yunho burst into the room, startling you.
His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, you could see the concern etched across his features. He quickly approached you, his voice filled with warmth and urgency. "What are you saying, love?" he asked, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that made your heart race. You felt a blush creep across your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and something else—something that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.
"You are absolutely stunning," he declared, his voice steady and sincere. The way he looked at you, as if you were the most beautiful person in the world, made your insecurities waver. He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing you into him, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest, and for a moment, the world outside faded away.
You searched his eyes, looking for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was genuine admiration. The way he spoke made you feel like you were the only person in the room, the only one that mattered. "But I just—" you started, but he shook his head gently, silencing your doubts.
"Stop right there," he said, his tone firm yet tender. "You are beautiful, inside and out. I love you just the way you are." His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you felt the weight of your self-criticism begin to lift. "You have to believe me. You deserve to see yourself the way I see you."
You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. It was hard to reconcile the image you had of yourself with the way he saw you. You had spent so long focusing on your flaws, on the things you wished you could change, that it felt almost impossible to accept his praise. But there was something in his gaze, a sincerity that made you want to believe him.
"Yunho," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I just don’t see it. I feel so… exposed in this." You gestured to the bathing suit, the vibrant colors and snug fit feeling like a spotlight on every insecurity you harbored. "What if everyone else sees what I see?"
He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "That’s the thing, love. They won’t. They’ll see you—the real you. The you that lights up a room, that makes people smile just by being there. This suit? It’s just fabric. It doesn’t define you. You define you."
His words wrapped around you, soothing the jagged edges of your self-doubt. You took a deep breath, letting his warmth seep into your bones. "But what if I don’t feel that way?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly.
"Then let me help you," he replied, his tone earnest. "Let me remind you every day how incredible you are. You don’t have to do this alone." He stepped back slightly, giving you space to breathe, but his hands remained on your waist, grounding you. "You are so much more than what you see in the mirror. You are strong, kind, and beautiful in ways that go beyond appearance."
You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his sincerity. "Yunho, I—" you started, but he interrupted you again, this time with a gentle finger pressed to your lips.
"Just listen," he said softly. "I know it’s hard to see yourself through my eyes, but I promise you, if you let me, I can help you find that beauty within yourself. It’s there, waiting to be discovered."
Yeosang
Yeosang hears you whisper your insecurities, the soft, trembling words that spill from your lips like fragile petals falling from a wilting flower. You call yourself ugly, your voice barely above a murmur, laced with a vulnerability that tugs at his heart. It pains him to hear you speak so harshly about yourself, to see the way your shoulders slump under the weight of self-doubt.
With a gentle smile that radiates warmth, he leans closer, closing the distance between you. His eyes, bright and sparkling with sincerity, hold a depth of understanding that makes you feel seen in a way you never thought possible. In that moment, the world around you fades, and it’s just the two of you, suspended in a bubble of connection.
“Listen to me,” he says softly, his voice a soothing balm against your inner turmoil. “You are beautiful in every way that matters.” His words are not mere platitudes; they are a heartfelt declaration infused with the kind of truth that can only come from someone who truly cares.
He takes a moment to let his gaze linger on your features, as if memorizing every detail—the curve of your smile, the way your eyes light up when you talk about your passions, the unique quirks that make you who you are. “Beauty isn’t just about what you see in the mirror,” he continues, his tone earnest. “It’s about the light you bring into the world, the kindness you show to others, and the strength you carry within you.”
As he speaks, you can feel the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The sincerity in his eyes reflects a truth you’ve struggled to accept: that beauty is multifaceted, and it radiates from within. You find yourself leaning into his words, allowing them to seep into the cracks of your self-doubt, slowly mending the fragile pieces of your self-image.
“Every scar, every flaw, every part of you tells a story,” he adds, his voice steady and reassuring. “And those stories are what make you uniquely you. You are not just beautiful; you are extraordinary.”
He pauses, allowing his words to settle in the air between you, creating a space where your insecurities can begin to dissolve. “Think about it,” he urges gently, his eyes never leaving yours. “The way you laugh, the way you care for those around you, the passion that ignites when you talk about what you love—those are the things that truly define your beauty.”
You can feel the tension in your shoulders begin to ease, the weight of self-criticism lifting ever so slightly. His unwavering gaze holds you captive, and for the first time in a long while, you feel a flicker of hope igniting within you. It’s as if he’s shining a light into the darkest corners of your mind, illuminating the shadows of doubt that have lingered for far too long.
“Remember,” he continues, his voice a gentle caress, “the world is full of people who will try to define you by their standards, but you are the one who gets to decide who you are. Embrace every part of yourself, even the parts you think are flawed. They are what make you real, and real is beautiful.”
His words resonate deep within you, echoing in the chambers of your heart. You can feel the warmth of his belief in you wrapping around you like a soft blanket, comforting and reassuring. It’s a stark contrast to the harshness of your own inner dialogue, and you find yourself wanting to believe him, to trust in the truth he sees.
“Let go of the need for perfection,” he whispers, his voice low and intimate. “Perfection is an illusion, a fleeting moment that doesn’t exist in the real world. What matters is authenticity, the courage to be yourself, flaws and all. That’s where true beauty lies.”
"Also… for the record… You are the most beautiful person I've ever met." As he speaks, you can feel the walls you’ve built around your heart beginning to crumble. The vulnerability you’ve held onto for so long starts to transform into a sense of liberation. You realize that perhaps, just perhaps, you are worthy of love and acceptance, not just from others, but from yourself.
San
As you gazed into the mirror, frustration bubbled up within you. "I look terrible," you sighed, unaware of the turmoil your words stirred in San's heart. He sank to his knees, a pained expression crossing his face as he clutched his chest, prompting you to rush to his side, concern etched on your features. "San?" you murmured, resting a gentle hand on his arm. "Are you alright?"
His eyes met yours, filled with sincerity, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. "Hearing you say that hurts me, baby," he replied, his voice low and earnest. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his theatrics, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the heaviness in the air. "You're just being dramatic," you teased, trying to lighten the mood, but he shook his head, determination blazing in his gaze.
"If you think you look bad, then I’m failing as your boyfriend!" he declared, his voice rising slightly, a mix of frustration and passion. The intensity of his words caught you off guard, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. You knelt beside him, your heart softening at the sight of his earnest expression.
"You’re beautiful, inside and out, and I can’t stand to see you doubt that," he insisted, his voice steady despite the emotion swirling within him. The sincerity in his tone made your heart flutter, and you felt a rush of affection for him.
It was as if the weight of your self-doubt began to lift, replaced by the glow of his unwavering belief in you. "You really mean that?" you asked, searching his eyes for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was a deep well of affection.
"More than anything," he replied, his voice steady and sincere. "You have this incredible light that shines from within, and it breaks my heart to see you not recognize it." He reached out, gently cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt a sense of safety in his presence.
"You see me," you whispered, the realization dawning on you. "You see me in a way I can’t see myself."
"Exactly," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "And I want you to see that too. You’re not just beautiful on the outside; it’s your kindness, your laughter, the way you care for others that makes you truly stunning."
His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, and you felt the corners of your mouth lift into a genuine smile. "You always know what to say to make me feel better," you admitted, your heart swelling with gratitude.
"That’s my job," he said with a playful grin, his earlier anguish replaced by a spark of mischief. "To remind you how amazing you are, even on your worst days."
You chuckled softly, the tension in the room dissipating as you leaned into his touch. "Okay, okay, I’ll try to be a little kinder to myself," you conceded, your voice lightening. "But only if you promise to stop dropping to your knees like I’ve just declared the end of the world."
San laughed, the sound bright and infectious. "Deal! But only if you promise to believe me when I say you’re beautiful."
You nodded, feeling a newfound sense of resolve. "I promise."
With that, he pulled you into a warm embrace, and you melted against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear. In that moment, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could start to see yourself through his eyes. And as you held onto him, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you, a promise of self-acceptance waiting to bloom.
Mingi
Mingi radiated an irresistible charm, his striking looks paired with an aura of confidence that captivated everyone in the room. His dark hair fell perfectly into place, framing a face that seemed to be sculpted by the hands of a master artist. The way he moved, with an effortless grace, drew the eyes of everyone around him, and his laughter rang out like music, infectious and warm. In stark contrast, you felt a wave of insecurity wash over you, especially in the snug, short dress that had once made you feel beautiful. The fabric clung to your curves, but now it felt like a spotlight, highlighting every perceived flaw. Just moments ago, in the comfort of your apartment, Mingi's words filled you with a sense of confidence, and his compliments made you feel seen and appreciated. But now, surrounded by the vibrant energy of the club, with its pulsating lights and thumping bass, you longed to fade into the shadows to escape the scrutiny of the crowd.
The laughter and chatter of partygoers swirled around you, a cacophony of voices that only amplified your feelings of inadequacy. You could see Mingi across the room, effortlessly engaging with a group of friends, his smile bright and genuine. It was as if he belonged to this world, while you felt like an outsider, a mere observer in a scene that felt too grand for you. The confidence that had once buoyed your spirits now felt like a distant memory, replaced by a gnawing sense of self-doubt that clung to you like a second skin.
Seeking solace, you slipped away to the bathroom, hoping for a moment of reprieve from the overwhelming self-doubt. The moment you stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The bathroom was dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights casting a soft glow on the tiled walls. You leaned against the cool sink, taking a deep breath as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The girl looking back at you wore a mask of uncertainty, her eyes betraying the turmoil within. You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to smooth down the strands that had begun to frizz in the humidity of the club, and took a moment to collect your thoughts.
The bathroom door swung open, startling you as you turned to find your boyfriend standing there, his gaze warm and inviting. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping you in a comforting warmth. His hands found their way to your waist, fingers splayed possessively, yet tenderly, as if he were afraid you might slip away. The sound of the latch clicking shut felt like a promise of privacy, a moment just for the two of you. "What are you doing in here, beautiful?" he asked, his voice low and soothing, a melody that wrapped around your heart. For a fleeting moment, you considered fabricating a response, conjuring up a lighthearted excuse to mask the vulnerability that bubbled beneath the surface. But as you looked into his eyes, you realized he could see right through you, the depth of his understanding disarming.
"I just feel so… unattractive," you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could catch them. The confession hung in the air, heavy and raw, and he paused, his expression shifting to one of disbelief mixed with concern.
"You… unattractive?" he echoed, his brow furrowing slightly as if he were trying to comprehend the very idea. You nodded, feeling exposed under his scrutiny, the weight of your insecurities pressing down on you. "But babe, you are stunning," he replied, his voice firm yet gentle, as if he were trying to convince not just you, but also himself. His grip tightened around your hips, anchoring you in his unwavering affection as if to remind you that you were safe here, in this moment, with him. The sincerity in his eyes made your heart flutter, and you felt a warmth spread through you, battling the chill of self-doubt.
"But I—" you began, your voice trailing off as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
"Stunning, babe," he insisted, his eyes sparkling with admiration as they roamed over your reflection.
"My hair is—" you tried to protest, running a hand through the loose waves that framed your face.
"Absolutely gorgeous," he interjected, stepping closer, his gaze unwavering.
"And this dress—" you continued, glancing down at the fabric that hugged your curves, feeling a mix of uncertainty and self-consciousness.
"Simply irresistible," he declared, a playful smile dancing on his lips. He interrupted your words, determined to make you see that no matter your doubts, your beauty shone through in every way. You searched his eyes, finding a depth of love and conviction that made your doubts begin to fade.
"Okay," you whispered, a small smile breaking through. "I’ll try to see myself the way you see me."
"That's all I ask," he said, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Now, let’s go out there and show the world just how stunning you truly are." With a newfound sense of confidence, you took a deep breath, ready to embrace the evening ahead, knowing that no matter what, you were cherished just as you were.
Wooyoung
"How does it look, darling?" Wooyoung's voice floated in from the other side of the changing room, a playful lilt in his tone. You had ventured out together for a shopping spree, and he had insisted you try on a dress that caught his eye. It looked stunning on the hanger, but as you gazed at your reflection, doubt crept in.
"The dress is lovely… I just feel so ugly," you called back, a frown tugging at your lips as you examined the fabric draping over you. Without warning, the door swung open, and Wooyoung stepped into the tight space, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that made your heart race.
"You’re breathtaking," he declared, locking his gaze with yours, and you couldn’t help but scoff in surprise. The intensity of his eyes held you captive, making your heart race in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. "But honestly, you shine the brightest when you wear nothing," he teased, his fingers brushing against the zipper of your dress, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Wooyoung," you stammered, warmth flooding your cheeks, yet a playful smile danced on your lips at his boldness. His confidence was intoxicating, and despite the embarrassment creeping in, you found yourself drawn to him even more. "I truly mean it, babe; there’s nothing more alluring than you, completely bare."
His words hung in the air, heavy with promise and mischief. You could feel the heat radiating between you, a magnetic pull that made the world around you fade into the background. The way he looked at you, with such unabashed admiration, made you feel both vulnerable and empowered.
You felt your heart flutter at his words, a mix of embarrassment and warmth flooding through you. "You always know how to make me blush," you replied, trying to maintain a semblance of composure as you turned back to the mirror. The dress, with its delicate lace and flowing fabric, was undeniably beautiful, but Wooyoung's unwavering gaze made you feel like the most cherished person in the world.
"It's true, though," he continued, stepping closer, his presence filling the small changing room. "You could wear a potato sack, and I’d still think you’re the most stunning person in the room." His playful grin was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in your shoulders easing.
"Okay, okay, I get it! You think I'm perfect," you said, rolling your eyes again, but this time with a smile. "But seriously, what do you think of the dress?" You turned slightly, giving him a better view, hoping to gauge his honest opinion amidst the teasing.
Wooyoung took a moment, his expression shifting from playful to sincere. "The dress is beautiful, but it’s you who makes it shine. It hugs your curves perfectly and highlights your figure in all the right ways. You should feel confident in it." His words were earnest, and you could see the admiration in his eyes.
You drew closer, planting a soft kiss on his lips. "Thank you, Woo," you murmured, and his smile radiated with joy at your newfound confidence.
"If you ever need a reminder of just how beautiful you are to me, I’d be delighted to help," he playfully replied, his voice low and teasing. He drew you tightly against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours, creating a delicious tension that made your heart race. His lips began to trail along the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. Each gentle kiss ignited a fire within you, a spark of unspoken desire that danced between you like a living thing.
Jongho
Your words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, casting a shadow over the moment, and Jongho felt a pang in his chest as you lamented about your appearance. Each syllable dripped with self-doubt, and it pained him to hear you speak so harshly about yourself. To him, you radiated beauty in every way—your laughter, your kindness, the way your eyes sparkled with life. It was as if you were a vibrant painting, and he was merely a spectator, captivated by the colors and strokes that made you uniquely you.
When your eyes met his, he could see the flicker of frustration in your gaze, urging him to remain silent, to let you wallow in your thoughts. But he couldn't hold back; he needed you to know how he felt, to understand the truth that lay beyond your own perception. Taking your hands in his, he caressed them softly, his thumbs gliding over your skin as if trying to erase the harsh words you had spoken. The warmth of your hands in his felt like a lifeline, grounding him in the moment.
"Listen," he began, his voice steady yet gentle, "I understand the struggle of feeling less than perfect." There was a hint of vulnerability in his tone, a crack in the armor he often wore. He wanted to reach you, to break through the cloud of negativity that surrounded you. "But I want you to know, in my eyes, you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
He paused, searching your face for a flicker of understanding, hoping his words would penetrate the fog of self-doubt. "It's not just about how you look," he continued, his grip on your hands tightening slightly, as if to emphasize the weight of his sincerity. "It's the way you light up a room when you walk in, the way your smile can turn a bad day into something bearable. It's the kindness you show to everyone around you, the way you listen and care. That’s what makes you beautiful."
As he spoke, he could see the tension in your shoulders begin to ease, the storm in your eyes slowly calming. He wanted to wrap you in his words, to shield you from the harshness of your own thoughts. "You deserve to see yourself the way I see you," he added softly, his heart aching for you. "You are so much more than the flaws you focus on. You are a masterpiece, and I wish you could see that."
He watched as your expression softened, the lines of frustration on your forehead smoothing out. It was as if he could see the gears turning in your mind, the realization slowly dawning that perhaps, just perhaps, there was some truth in his words. Jongho felt a surge of determination; he wanted to break through the barriers of self-doubt that had been built up over time.
"You know," he continued, his voice gaining strength, "we all have our moments of insecurity. I do too. There are days when I look in the mirror and wonder if I’m enough. But I’ve learned that those thoughts don’t define who we are. They’re just fleeting shadows that try to cloud our vision." He squeezed your hands gently, willing you to absorb his message. "You are so much more than the sum of your parts. You are a beautiful soul, and that’s what truly matters."
As he spoke, he could see the flicker of hope igniting in your eyes, the shadows of self-doubt beginning to retreat. Jongho felt a rush of warmth in his chest, a sense of purpose in lifting you up. "I want you to see yourself the way I see you," he said earnestly. "You deserve to feel that beauty, to embrace it fully. You are worthy of love and admiration, not just from others, but from yourself."
Hi I'd like to request something for the 500 follower event. Is it possible to do a dilf yunho × reader where reader has to babysit his kid. Reader is a broke college student that is desperate for any job that pays. She happens to see a listing for a babysitter even though she doesn't have experience. She takes the job any way. I'm bad with details but I would like smut in it. I would also like some tension between reader and dad yunho even though they don't vocalize their feelings. But he definitely finds her attractive when they first meet. That's all! Thank you
"A babysitter, huh?" Y/N pondered as you scanned the job advertisement. As a cash-strapped college student, any paycheck was a lifeline, so you decided to go for it, despite your lack of experience.
You never thought that you would be hired. The employer is a thirty-something single dad with a daughter who is more than four years old. You made your way to the address provided in the message and found yourself standing at his doorstep.
The sound of the door bell echoed as you fidgeted nervously, waiting for an answer. The thrill of being hired still lingered, though a shadow of uncertainty loomed over you—why had he chosen you? Suddenly, the door swung open, and there stood a tall, muscular man, his sharp jawline highlighted a serious, almost intimidating expression.
"You must be the babysitter, Y/N right?" He said, sizing you up with a critical glance..
"Yes, I am," you replied, trying to sound confident despite the butterflies in your stomach. He ushered you inside, and you followed him into a sprawling penthouse apartment. The high ceilings and pristine white walls were a stark contrast to your cozy one-bedroom.
"My daughter is asleep in her room," Yunho said with his low voice, leading you to the child's room. "I need you to watch her while I'm away for the night."
"Alright." You nodded, still nervous. "Any special instructions?"
"Just make sure she stays in bed," He said, gesturing towards the little girl in the room. "Her name is Aurora."
"Aurora…what a pretty name." You moved closer to her bed, admiring her soft, peaceful features. She looked like an angel, her small hand clutching a plush toy close to her chest.
Yunho followed close behind, the click of his footsteps muffled by the thick carpeted floor. He stood by the bedroom door, his gaze never leaving you, as if assessing your every move. The intense scrutiny made you want to squirm, but you maintain your composure, focusing all your attention on the tiny girl.
"Anything else?" You inquired.
"No," Yunho said curtly, his eyes still drilling into you. "Just put her to sleep and make sure she doesn't get out of bed. I shouldn't be gone for more than a few hours." You nodded silently.
"I'll be in my office if you need me," He nodded, turning to leave but pausing briefly at the door to look back at you with those intense eyes. "And Y/N?"
You looked up at him, startled. "Yes?"
He hesitated for a moment, a flicker of something almost like concern passing over his features, before he nodded in dismissal. "Nothing, just…take good care of my daughter."
You nodded with a smile and he went back to his room. He watched you from the hallway outside Aurora's room, his expression stoic and almost unreadable. He observed intently as you softly caressed Aurora's cheeks and gently brushed her hair. He noted how delicately you handled his precious daughter, how your touch seemed so natural and soothing.
Yunho's gaze moved to a collection of framed photos that stood on a nearby table. They were photos of him and his late wife, a beautiful woman with a warm smile that radiated affection.
As he looked at the photos, he couldn't help but draw comparisons between you and her. The way you tilted your head, the way you smiled, the way you talked to Aurora – it all reminded him of her. It was uncanny.
He was taken aback when he stumbled upon your application. You resembled her in her youth, just as he remembered from their first encounter. The urge to bring you on board was irresistible, even in the absence of experience. A thought flickered in his mind—perhaps, just perhaps, fate had conspired to reunite him with her once more.
But a sense of melancholia washed over him at the same time. This wasn't right. You were just a babysitter. He had no right to feel this way, to see you as a replacement for his lost love.
He took a deep breath, trying to shake off these confusing feelings.
—---
This job isn't as challenging as you imagined, perhaps due to the presence of a little angel. Aurora, unlike her father, is perpetually cheerful, her smile lighting up the room as she eagerly shares her delightful school adventures. Who could resist such an adorable girl? Aurora thrived on your attention, often taking your hand to invite you into her world of toys or to share her favorite stories. Each time you interacted with her, her bright smile seemed to shine even more brilliantly.
The stark difference between her and her father creates an unspoken rule: you always steal a glance at him. Curiosity gnaws at you, wondering if he might crack a smile. His expression is perpetually serious, leaving you anxious about whether you've upset him. Yet, as time passes, you realize that his demeanor is simply a reflection of his serious nature. Initially, it feels a bit unsettling, but you gradually acclimate to it. Your eyes are drawn to him, almost as if an invisible force compels you to look, turning it into a familiar habit.
As you cared for his daughter, you found yourself stealing glances at Yunho. Your eyes would linger on him, taking in his tall, muscular frame and his strong, chiseled features.
Despite your best efforts to resist, you couldn't help the growing attraction you felt towards him. His commanding presence, the intense look in his eyes, and his deep, melodic voice all stirred something within you. It was a confusing mix of curiosity and desire, and you weren't sure how to handle it.
Every time Yunho looked at you with his sharp gaze, your heart would skip a beat. You couldn't shake off the feeling that he was assessing you, trying to decipher your thoughts. There was something about the way he looked at you, a combination of intensity and curiosity, that left you slightly unnerved but also intrigued.
You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, but they seemed to intensify every time he was near. You found yourself wondering what it would be like to be closer to him, to have his full attention focused solely on you.
Your feelings were complicated, conflicted. On one hand, you knew it was inappropriate to feel this way towards the man who had hired you merely to watch over his daughter. But on the other hand, you couldn't deny the attraction you felt, the way your body responded to him in a maddening way.
You both remained quiet, exchanging only fleeting looks filled with unspoken words. Yet, Aurora caught the slight exchange of glances between you and her father. Her bright eyes sparkled with mischief as she made up her mind to playfully poke fun at you.
"Y/N?" she said, her voice filled with a mischievous tone, "You like Papa, right?" You were taken aback by her sudden question, your cheeks flushing slightly. You tried to brush it off, but Aurora was determined to get a reaction out of you.
"C'mon, you can tell me," she said with a cheeky grin. "My Papa is handsome and it is normal you like him."
"I'm not..!When did you learn this?huh?" You tried to steer the conversation away, but she wouldn't let up. She seemed to delight in the idea of a romance between you and her father, even if it was just a harmless tease.
"Don't lie~~ I know that~"
"Ah!You spoiled kid." you pretended to be angry but you couldn't hold back the smile. "Stop it. You're just imagining things."
"No~~"
"YES!" You pulled her onto your laps and held her firmly. "Don't say it in front of your father."
"Why not??"
Your Papa is just really tired, okay? So let him be. You stammered, trying to come up with a reason for her to back off. "And look, it's already 9 PM. Time for you to hit the hay."
"Ah no~ You still haven't answered me~" She whined, clearly not satisfied.
"Absolutely not. Your dad is on his way home. Do you really want him to catch you awake and give you a lecture?"
"No way!! Papa is scary." She quickly broke free from your hold and dashed back to her bed. "Y/N, please don't tell Papa I'm still awake."
You shook your head, a soft sigh escaping your lips as a light chuckle followed. Stepping into her room, you carefully tucked her in and turned off the light. "Sleep well, sweetheart." you whispered, gently closing the door behind you, finally exhaling the breath you hadn't noticed you were holding.
As you turned around, your heart skipped a beat as you saw Yunho coming back from work, loosening his tie and shirt. "She's sleeping?"
"Ye…yes." A hesitant smile crept across your face as you nodded, your eyes glued to him, unable to look away. His delicate fingers danced down the line of buttons, unfastening them slowly, deliberately. With a flick of his wrist, he pushed the tie aside, tilting his head slightly as he stretched. You felt a lump in your throat, your heart pounding wildly as the fabric of his shirt slipped to reveal his collarbone.
The room felt unbearably silent as you stood there, caught in Yunho's gaze. It seemed as if time had stopped, with only the sound of your own beating heart filling the air.
Yunho's expression was unreadable. He didn't smile or sneer, just held your gaze with a steady intensity that made your heart flutter.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice deep and melodic. "Enjoying the view?"
Your cheeks flushed even deeper at his comment. He caught you red-handed, and now he was teasing you about it. You tried to come up with a witty reply, but your mind was blank, consumed by the mixture of embarrassment and attraction you felt.
"I...I wasn't-" you stuttered, trying to compose yourself. "I was just-"
Yunho raised an eyebrow, his expression amused, as if he was enjoying your flustered state. "Just what? Admiring the wallpaper?"
"I... I was just lost in thought," you finally managed to say, your voice slightly shaky.
Yunho leaned against the doorframe, his intense gaze still fixed on you. "You seem to get lost in thought a lot," he remarked, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.
You felt your heart flutter at his response. It was as if he was aware of the effect he had on you, and he was enjoying every moment of it.
You tried to regain your composure, straightening your shoulders and clearing your throat. "I... I should probably check on Aurora," you said, desperate to escape the intensity of his gaze.
Yunho chuckled softly, a low, melodic sound that sent chills down your spine. "She's already asleep. Doesn't she?"
"I…I guess…?But it…it's better for me to check…"
"Hm?No worries…she's a deep sleeper. You should know that…" Yunho mused, stepping closer to you. He took a look at your face…you really looked like his lost love…but you were different.
You lack her level of maturity; instead, you possess a certain innocence that stems from your limited experiences in life. You constantly attempt to conceal the yearnings that simmer within you, yet the harder you try to suppress them, the more they reveal themselves. A mere accidental brush of hands sends a flush to your cheeks. The way your body quivers slightly and your face warms ignites a deep desire within him once more.
His emotions for you might be intertwined with memories of a past love, yet what truly matters is the newness you introduce into his life. Each time he reflects on how tenderly you cared for Aurora, a wave of warmth washes over his heart. He yearns to hold onto that feeling indefinitely.
Yunho raised a hand, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, but it sent shivers down your spine. His thumb traced the outline of your lips, the touch electric and intimate. "Now there's no one here…how convenient.."
You looked at him, realization dawning. Without Aurora around, it meant that you would be spending the entire night with him. Your heartrate quickened at the thought, a strange, flustered sensation settling in your chest.
He leaned closer, his face just a few inches from yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, the scent of his cologne enveloping you in a heady cloud. His eyes searched yours, as if looking for something, some hint of hesitation or resistance. But he found none.
"That gives me all sorts of ideas," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Ideas that involve spending the night together…doing something other than work." He lifted his other hand, gently caressing your cheek with his knuckles. "And I think we both know what that's something is…" He murmured, his eyes locked onto yours, a hint of desire in his gaze.
His mouth hovered over yours, the space between you almost non-existent. You could feel his body pressing against you, the heat from his skin seeping through your clothes. It was all too much, the intensity, the proximity, the overwhelming connection between you.
"But," he continued, his thumb tracing the contour of your lips. "I don't want to make any assumptions. I want to hear it from you…tell me dear, what do you want to do with your free night today? With me?"
The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. You met his gaze, your mind racing with a million different thoughts and feelings. But there was something undeniable growing between you, a force almost too powerful to ignore.
You wet your lips nervously, your eyes flickering from his gaze to his mouth and back again. Your heart thrummed in your chest, your body trembling slightly with the intensity of the moment.
"I...I want you," you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "All of you."
"More specifically…how do you want me to claim you? Where do you want me to claim you?"
"I…guess…the…the bed…?"
"Ah, the bed." His eyes darkened with lust at your unexpected response. "I like the way you think…" But then, he took a step back, a coy grin on his face. "But why stop at the bed? I've got the whole house…and all night."
"I…I…" You stammered, unable to form a sentence as your brain blank. He chuckled at your blush, finding it amusing. "What do you say we make the most of your free time…and have some fun together?" His hands were still firmly on your hips, squeezing them from time to time. "After all, the possibilities are…endless,"
He nipped at your earlobe, sending a shudder through your body. "And I'm eager to explore all of them with you,"
"Yunho…I want you…"
Yunho's eyes darkened at your words, a low growl escaping from his throat. He pushed you back against the wall, his body pressed flush against yours, almost trapping you in place.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. "Once we cross this line, there's no going back."
You met his gaze, your heart hammering in your chest. You knew what he was implying, what he was asking. And despite the risk, the danger, you wanted it. You wanted him.
Your hands found their way to his chest once more, your grip tight and desperate.
"I'm sure," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. "Please, Yunho. I need you."
Once you finished your words, his lips collided with yours in a passionate, commanding kiss, ignited by the fervor of your words and the rising heat that enveloped you both.
"Fuck..the things I'm going to do to you.
As the kiss deepened, his hands moved lower, trailing down your sides and resting on your hips. With a firm grip, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing you back against the wall. "Hold onto me," The sudden change in positioning made you gasp into the kiss, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist."And don't let go," he adds, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'm about to take you on a ride you won't forget.
He took advantage of your momentary distraction, his mouth moving from yours to your neck, nipping and biting at the sensitive flesh. You moaned softly, feeling his teeth graze the column of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. He moved lower, his lips tracing a path of kisses along your collarbone, his hands roaming across your back, exploring every inch of you.
You felt your body respond to his touch, your heart racing and your breath coming in ragged gasps. He seemed to sense your need, his touch growing rougher, more possessive.
Yunho's hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his fingers teasing the soft skin of your stomach as he pulled it up and over your head.
He took a moment to admire the sight of you, your chest heaving as you struggled to regain control of your breath. His eyes roved over your half-naked body, drinking you in with a look of unbridled desire.
"So beautiful…" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He couldn't seem to look away, his gaze burning with need.
Yunho's gaze never left yours as he hooked a finger through the elastic of your panties, pulling them down with one swift motion.
His eyes raked over your nearly naked body, taking in every curve and contour. He let out a low, guttural sound of appreciation, his hands moving to your hips, his grip tight as they traced small circles on your skin.
"Perfect..." he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Just absolutely perfect."
Yunho pressed himself against you, his body flush against yours, his breathing ragged and thick with desire. His lips found yours, his kiss rough and possessive, claiming you as his own. He positioned himself between your legs after pulling out his cock, his hardness against your thigh, teasing and tantalizing.
"Are you ready for this, dear?" He whispered against your ear, his words rough with need. "For me?"
You nodded, unable to form words, only able to feel the heat and desire coursing through you. Yunho noticed your silence and pulled back slightly, his eyes searching your face.
"Use your words, dear. I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want."
Your cheeks grew red, but you forced yourself to speak. "I...I want you, Yunho. I want this."
The moment the words left your mouth, Yunho smirked, his eyes darkening with an intense hunger. "That's what I wanted to hear."
His hands found your hips once more, shifting your position slightly to fit himself between your legs even more snugly. You could feel the heat and friction between you, the anticipation building with each passing moment.
With a swift motion, he pressed himself against you, his hardness pressing at your entrance, a subtle warning of what was to come. His eyes met yours, the intensity in his gaze making your heart race.
"Let me in, dear." He murmured, the words barely more than a guttural growl. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with your own. "Let me make you mine."
You nodded, your voice caught in your throat, unable to speak through the intensity of the moment. Yunho took your wordless response as the answer he was looking for, and with a swift, smooth motion, he surged forwards.
The heat and friction was almost overwhelming, and you gasped, your body arching involuntarily as he filled you, as if fitting exactly where he was supposed to go. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, then began to move, slowly and deliberately, pulling you close to him with the grip he had on your hips.
He groaned, feeling your tight heat clench around him, your body responding to his, as if made for him, and only him. His lips found your neck again, biting and kissing the sensitive flesh.
"You're so good for me, so good," he murmured against your skin. "So tight, so perfect." He punctuated each word with a deeper thrust, driving himself further into you.
"All mine." He growled the words, the sound deep and territorial, marking you as his for all to know. You were his, and he was yours. And in that moment, nothing else mattered but the feel of his body, the way he made you feel. It was pure, unbridled ecstasy. You belonged to him, and he belonged to you. And there was no turning back. You were his, and he would be yours. Always. Forever. Until the end of time.
Yunho was quick with his movements, his body a symphony of action. He was a flurry of motion, his hips rolling into yours with a practiced and fluid motion. He set a punishing rhythm, his pace demanding and relentless. His hands gripped you tightly, your body moved and molded to his desires, his wants.
"You're mine, darling," He quickened his pace, his movements becoming more urgent. "Mine to claim, mine to possess. Say it. Say it for me."
"I'm yours…oh gosh…I am…fuck…"
You writhe and squirm under his touch, your body responding to his every move. Your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with an intensity of sensation you had never experienced before.
He picked up the pace, his hips moving faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you, claiming you. He moved his mouth to your neck, kissing and biting, leaving behind marks to show that you were his.
He changed the angle of his hips, seeking a deeper connection, as if trying to make you a part of him, to make you one with him. The way his cock battered your spot and rubbed along your wall made you insane, the urgency of release reaching the peak.
"Close…close…fuck…yunho"
"I'm here. I've got you." He murmurs, his words as sweet as honey yet his tone holding an edge, as he knew this would overpower you.
"Let go. Give yourself to me."
The heat was growing, overwhelming every sense, as you could feel it taking control.
His lips brushed your neck, kissing it softly, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered again, "Let go for me. Say my name." he commanded.
You felt so vulnerable yet safe in his arms, you surrendered. Giving him more power and control of this moment. His power over you took over your mind and soul, your own thoughts were lost, replaced with his presence.
Your release was intense, an explosion of pleasure that shook your entire body.
Yunho's name escaped your lips like a prayer, the words leaving your mouth in a cry of ecstasy. He held you tight, his arms wrapped around you as you rode out the wave of pleasure. He whispered words of comfort and reassurance, his voice soft and tender, as he held you in the aftermath.
"You're incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing your hair. "You're so beautiful. So good for me." He rained kisses on your face, your neck, your shoulder, his touch gentle and possessive all rolled into one.
"Yu…yunho…"
"Shh…don't be too loud…" He smirked, dropping a kiss on the mark he made. "We're not done yet…" His cock twitched as your wall squeezed hard, his pre-cum soaking your depth and creaming your velvet wall. "I'm still not cumming…" He pushed his length deep until you couldn't take it, your breath catching in your throat, struggling to adjust the overwhelmed pleasure.
"We still have a long night…"
—---
Yunho gently shook Aurora awake, running his fingers through her hair.
"Morning, sweetie," he said softly.
"Mmm, morning, Papa…" Aurora yawned, rubbing her eyes as she fought to wake up. "Where's y/n? Isn't she supposed to wake me up?"
"Oh, she's still sleeping because she's really tired. So it's Papa's job to wake you up."
"Hm... okay... can I see her?"
"Nope. Let her sleep a bit longer, alright? You can hang out with her after school."
"Alright..." She pouted a little. "Papa?"
"Yeah, what's up?"
"Did we have an earthquake last night?"
"Huh? No way. Why do you think that?"
"Hm?? Then why did I feel the wall shaking?" Yunho's eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard. But he quickly composed himself and came up with an excuse.
"Maybe your bed is just a bit wobbly…?"
"Maybe? But I also heard y/n yelling. Is she okay?"
"No, no, no! She's perfectly fine. Just a little tired. There was no earthquake, no one got hurt, and no one yelled." Yunho rushed through his words, clearly a bit anxious. "Let's get ready for school, okay? Sounds good? Haha."
Aurora squinted, sensing that her dad was keeping something from her, but she just couldn't figure out what it was.
"Papa, you can't pull a fast one on me, alright?"
"Haha. I'm not lying. When have I ever lied to you?" Yunho forced a smile, his ears were blushing due to embarrassment. Maybe he should find a more private place next time…no he should do it when Aurora isn't here. Hmm…maybe it's time to bring her to her grandparents for a week.
He thought.
tag list: @angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615, @monsta-x-jagi, @sunnysidesins
